.png)
IN TAILS: Christopher Wilkins conducts the Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra and recently spoke about Beethoven and his 'Ninth Symphony.' (Courtesy of John Christopher Fine)
When the word Maestro comes to mind so does an image of a baton wielding eccentric, long white hair, rumpled tuxedo with tails, leading an orchestra into the far reaches of musical mayhem.
At a recent performance by the Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra, Maestro Christopher Wilkins artfully described Ludwig van Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony” with energy and verve, minus the white hair, and, he was impeccably dressed. Wilkins’ every nuance from his baton provoked the best from musicians and 310 chorale singers grouped on stage for the performance.
“Beethoven waited all his life to write the ‘Ninth.’ He thought about the ‘Ode to Joy.’ The words resonated with him. A lot of people think the symphony reflects his philosophy. It touched him deeply,” Christopher Wilkins said.
The performance was over. In their seventeen years of existence the Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra never produced Beethoven’s "Ninth."
“The orchestra rivals any throughout the country. To coordinate three choral groups and organize 310 singers on stage with the intricacies of the symphony was a major undertaking,” Alan Villaverde said. Mr. Villaverde is a member of the Philharmonic’s Board of Directors, President of the Peabody Hotel Division and General Manager of Orlando’s majestic Peabody Hotel. He orchestrated a lavish wine and cheese reception following the performance.
Musicians, soloists, choir members and Florida society gathered to pay homage to the momentous performance. The Maestro and performers heard the applause, Beethoven didn’t. He was completely deaf when his “Ninth Symphony” was presented on May 7, 1824. At the end of the premiere he had to be turned around to see the tumultuous applause. Beethoven wept.
Concepts for his “Ninth” began to form in his mind in 1815. He had faith and hope in Napoleon Bonaparte until his conquest went very wrong. Vienna was attacked and the dictator’s ambition was revealed for what it was. Beethoven scratched through the paper furiously eradicating Napoleon’s name from a dedication to his music. With it went his misplaced confidence in Napoleon as a tribute to the hope and freedom of the French Revolution.
Born in Bonn, Germany in December 1770, he moved to Vienna when he was in his early twenties. Beethoven studied piano under Joseph Hayden. It is uncertain that he met Mozart, but it is possible since their circles overlapped. Beethoven was certainly influenced in his early compositions by Mozart.
THE MASTER: A wax likeness of German composer Ludwig van Beethoven stands in Berlin's Madame Tussaud's wax museum. (Clemens Bilan/AFP/Getty Images)
Despite his early successes and the patronage of wealthy and influential people in Austrian society, Beethoven’s life began to deteriorate with his hearing as early as 1796. Despite high levels of lead found in hair samples removed when his body was exhumed some 35 years after his death, and a contemporary autopsy that found liver damage from alcoholism, he continued to compose. His performances were peppered with rancor. He would terminate a performance if full attention wasn’t given or if any in the audience talked. His manners and physical appearance began to degenerate and fits of anger tracked his public life.
When his brother died, Beethoven sought custody of his son. Court documents reveal that he attacked the boy’s mother with lawsuits and character assassination. He prevailed in court through bribery of judicial officials.
Beethoven’s father was an alcoholic that may have accounted for child abuse much touted in a Columbia Pictures film "Immortal Beloved, The Untold Story of Ludwig van Beethoven." There is no proof that the father beat his son on the ears after a failed performance, depicted in the film, thus making him deaf, nor is there historical proof that he was physically abused as a boy. In these things, however, he became an abuser of alcohol and power over Karl, the boy, who eventually left his custody and attempted suicide.
In Beethoven’s fourth movement of the “Ninth Symphony” he used poet Friedrich Schiller’s ‘An Die Freude,’ the 'Ode To Joy.' Beethoven saw it as a hymn that transcended war and struggle and reached out to human desire for brotherhood.
“It is his musical utopia. It’s the anthem of the European Union,” Christopher Wilkins said. Wilkins was elated to describe that classical music is being performed by more than 2,000 orchestras and 800 youth orchestras in America today.
“In China 35 million children study classical piano, 10 million the violin,” Maestro Wilkins observed.
Wilkins has been with the Orlando Philharmonic as Music Director for four years and also serves the Akron, Ohio Symphony in the same capacity. He is an advisor to the Opera Theatre of the Rockies in Colorado Springs and has been Music Director of the San Antonio Symphony.
“Our mission is to reach out into the community, to develop youth programs. This performance was amazing,” David Schillhammer said. As Executive Director of the Orlando Philharmonic, David is responsible for insuring that the $3 million annual operating budget is balanced, not an easy task in today’s economic times. That he is able to do it reflects broad community support for classical music in Central Florida.
“We had a total community assembled here tonight. Professionals, amateurs, students. Does anyone want to warm a choir up?” Wilkins asked with a smile, even white teeth flashing a winsome salute to the achievements of the choirs during the performance.
“I told them to come warmed [up]so as not to waste time. I can’t wait to hear that.
“We had three different choirs. They each rehearsed separately. Tuesday they all got together with me. We got together with the orchestra Thursday and this afternoon. They’re quick, very quick. This is the first time we put together a choir of this size,” he added.
It was a momentous performance from the musical mind of Ludwig van Beethoven. “I’m a product of the Leonard Bernstein Childrens’ Concerts in New York,” Alan Villaverde said. “My mother took me to them. It is a shame more young people are not exposed to classical music. The overall emotion is how enjoyable it is. The education system is doing an injustice to them, not exposing them to it. Talent is not only trained; you are born with that talent. I was in Singapore, went to the symphony. Little kids were sitting in the aisles. It was a family deal. You could feel the passion in the audience. They went crazy. The kids ran up and went crazy when it was over. It was like a rock concert,” he concluded.
Beethoven went crazy. It was the torment of his musical mind. In deafness he put a rod against the soundboard of his piano, held the end in his teeth so vibration would increase transmission of sound. His was a world of musical genius; once in a century that great creativity is born and given a chance to develop.
A French poet of long ago entitled his work “Mozart Assassinee.” The poet boarded a train when World War II ended. The cars were packed with refugees: people without hope, hoping to find something better than the nothing they came from. He looked into the face of a child held in its mother’s arms. The thought provoked the words: “Mozart Assassinated”—perhaps a little Mozart forever doomed, never to be discovered.
In the case of Beethoven’s musical mind, the world has studied and restudied his internal tortures in life; dissected him in death. More palatable are the joys of his music performed with grace and diligence with instruments and voices raised in an ode to joy.
John Christopher Fine is the author of 24 published books. His theater, music, and restaurant reviews appear in newspapers throughout the United States.
