Album Review: Ode An Die Freiheit – Bernstein In Berlin (Symphonie Nr. 9)
Alright, so let’s talk about this absolute beast of an album—Ode An Die Freiheit, Leonard Bernstein conducting Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9. If you’re into classical music but haven’t heard this one yet, you’re missing out big time. It’s Romantic-era gold with some serious emotional heft, brought to life by a dream team of musicians and singers from Europe. Deutsche Grammophon knows how to put these things together, and man, does it show.
First off, the sheer scale of this thing is wild. You’ve got orchestras like the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, Staatskapelle Dresden, London Symphony Orchestra, and even the New York Philharmonic all contributing their magic. Then there are those powerhouse vocalists—June Anderson on soprano, Sarah Walker knocking it out of the park as mezzo-soprano, Klaus König hitting those tenor highs, and Jan-Hendrik Rootering bringing the bass thunder. And don’t get me started on Wolfgang Seeliger wrangling that massive chorus. This isn’t just music; it’s like a celebration of humanity itself.
Now, I wanna zoom in on two tracks because trying to unpack the whole symphony would take forever—and honestly, who’s got the attention span for that? Let’s start with Track 2: Molto Vivace. Oh my god, this movement is pure adrenaline. The orchestra sounds tight as hell here, especially when they dive into those fast-paced string runs. It feels chaotic at times, but not in a bad way—it’s more like controlled chaos, if that makes sense? Like watching someone juggle flaming swords without breaking a sweat. Every section of the orchestra has its moment to shine, and it’s impossible not to feel yourself getting swept up in the energy. By the end, you kind of forget you’re sitting in your living room instead of running through a field or something equally dramatic.
Then there’s Track 4: Presto – Allegro Assai, which closes the whole thing with Friedrich von Schiller’s iconic “Ode to Joy” text. This is where everything explodes into joyous madness. The choir comes in full force, backed by those soaring soloists, and suddenly it’s hard to sit still. Seriously, try listening to this without feeling goosebumps—it’s almost impossible. There’s something about the way Bernstein conducts this final stretch that feels electric, like he knew exactly what buttons to push to make everyone give 110%. When the full orchestra joins in during the climactic moments, it’s like being hit by a tidal wave of sound. I mean, wow.
What sticks with me most about this recording isn’t just how technically impressive it is—it’s how alive it feels. Like, yeah, Beethoven wrote the notes hundreds of years ago, but Bernstein and co. make it feel like it was written yesterday. It’s messy, raw, and deeply human, which is kinda ironic since we’re talking about a dude named Ludwig Van Beethoven.
Here’s the random thought I’ll leave you with: Listening to this album feels like standing under a waterfall fully clothed. Sure, you could stay dry and avoid the chaos, but why would you want to? Sometimes, you just gotta let the music soak you to the bone.
