Vienna, Berlin or Amsterdam: Which is the best orchestra in the world?

In culture, as in sports, there is a widespread desire for superlatives: Who is the most virtuosic pianist, who is the most convincing singer, which ensembles are at the forefront of major concerts of top international orchestras? Such questions have a playful quality, because everyone knows that such rankings can only ever be snapshots and that preferences, early influences, fashions, and traditions also play a role in the answers.

Moreover, comparisons are generally difficult, as candidates for the honorary title of Best Artist or Leading Ensemble rarely perform at the same venue in close proximity. At the Lucerne Festival, however, this is exactly what happens every summer; the competition among the best of the best has been a regular feature here for years. And so, in the KKL Concert Hall, you can truly decide for yourself, with your ears pricked, who deserves the crown.

Last week, three of Europe's leading orchestras took turns at the KKL, so to speak. And all three are regularly named as contenders for the throne in surveys in specialist magazines, as well as in discussions among concertgoers.

In Lucerne, the program began with the Concertgebouw Orchestra from Amsterdam, which performed two concerts with its future music director, Klaus Mäkelä – the not-yet-thirty-year-old Finn is considered a rising star in the industry. This was followed by the Berlin Philharmonic with two evenings under its current conductor, Kirill Petrenko, who has long since stepped out of the shadow of his great predecessors, Simon Rattle and Claudio Abbado. And finally, the Vienna Philharmonic, also with two programs in which the orchestra, which traditionally operates without a permanent chief conductor, collaborated with Franz Welser-Möst, the former music director of the Zurich Opera.

The setting for all six concerts is strictly classical; there are no innovative formats, no experiments whatsoever. One could criticize this, but in this case, in the high-altitude atmosphere of these concerts, it seems irrelevant; within the framework of the tried and tested, this is a matter of final refinements. And it is precisely the comparability of the constellation that lends the summit meeting of top orchestras at the Lucerne Festival its special appeal.

So which is currently the best orchestra in the world?

If tradition and sound culture were the sole consideration, the choice would quickly be between Amsterdam and Vienna. The Concertgebouw enchants with its dark, earthy, and warm sound; one can still hear much of the so-called mixed sound of the Romantic era, in which all instruments blend harmoniously together while remaining recognizable as individual color accents. After weaker phases in recent years, during which the Dutch flagship orchestra threatened to lose precisely this characteristic sound aesthetic, it has now returned to its original playing tradition. Under Mäkelä, the orchestra is also playing with noticeably greater technical precision.

In Lucerne, however, the Amsterdam ensemble will encounter an ensemble that boasts all of these qualities – and one crucial one more: the uniquely luminous and well-rounded string sound of the Vienna Philharmonic, which remains the benchmark among classical symphony orchestras – and this is no coincidence, as its members have access to a pool of particularly valuable instruments. At the KKL, this sonic quality is exemplified in the performance of Anton Bruckner's 9th Symphony. Even in the loudest passages, Franz Welser-Möst maintains a balance between the highly demanded brass and the violins, thus avoiding the dreaded monochromatic drone to which lesser orchestras are prone, especially with Bruckner.

By contrast, the Berlin orchestra's overall sound seems more neutral, less saturated with historical playing tradition. One can hear how the German elite orchestra has been fine-tuned for precision by Simon Rattle and now by Petrenko. The price for this is a certain coolness and compactness of sound, which occasionally makes the concentrated tutti sound harsh. However, the performance of Gustav Mahler's 9th Symphony also reveals the outstanding caliber of the musicians, many of whom, like the Geneva flautist Emmanuel Pahud, also pursue solo careers. All technical problems recede into the background; they seem almost nonexistent, even in the exceptionally subtle ensemble playing—and that means a lot, especially given Mahler's horrendously demanding scores.

In the Ninth, as in Brahms's First the previous evening, this leads to a fascinating phenomenon: instead of struggling with the challenges of the material, as one occasionally hears at the Concertgebouw in Mäkelä's meticulous reading of Mahler's Fifth, the Berliners are able to concentrate at every moment on the finest nuances of expression. Nothing here seems merely superficially charged with romantic passion; rather, the emotion is cleverly dosed and thereby sublimated. This leads to a greater coherence, a feeling of this and no other, which nevertheless never risks becoming frozen in beauty; for a vibrant stream of energy is always palpable, enlivening every bar.

Swiss violinist Christoph Streuli, a member of the second violins, explained what this special energy is all about during an insightful post-concert talk at the KKL: The Berlin Philharmonic, with its modern acoustics, demands a more active effort to bring out details in vivid detail than the equally famous historic venues of its competitors, the Concertgebouw and the Golden Hall in the Vienna Musikverein. These two halls are considered prime examples of acoustics shaped by the aforementioned Romantic sound ideal. According to Streuli, this ensures that the music sounds very vivid and rich in substance; therefore, unlike in the Berlin Philharmonic, a certain restraint is even called for there.

This practical advice perhaps explained the somewhat contradictory effect of the Vienna Philharmonic's two guest appearances. While Bruckner's Ninth and Alban Berg's "Lulu" Suite benefited from the serenity and natural transparency of the colorful orchestral sound on the first evening, the restraint was exaggerated the following day.

Mozart's "Prague" truly freezes in beauty here – like a museum object in a display case. Too little is communicated about Mozart's closeness to the stage, to singing, and his incessantly inventive compositional talent. This may also be due to the fact that people in Vienna are still hesitant to embrace groundbreaking insights from historical performance practice, such as the sharpening of articulation or a rhetorical formulation of phrases. This has been standard practice for decades, not only in period-sound ensembles; ensembles like the Tonhalle Orchestra Zurich have long since embraced these and other stylistic developments. The once celebrated Viennese Mozart style seems merely dignified by comparison; it has become out of date.

The Viennese interpretation of Tchaikovsky's "Pathological Symphony," on the other hand, is worthy of discussion: Welser-Möst takes the pressure off the highly autobiographical work, in which, according to a common interpretation, Tchaikovsky anticipated his mysterious death just days after the premiere. This background sometimes weighs heavily on the piece. Welser-Möst therefore aims for a more matter-of-fact tone, presenting the piece with formal clarity and almost classical serenity. Key moments, such as the fading heartbeat at the end, nevertheless come across as very eloquent.

However, this is also where the crucial difference to the Berlin competition becomes tangible: While there, especially in Mahler, every detail glows with inner passion, the Viennese seem unmoved by their own music-making. At times, it almost seems as if they are watching themselves playing – few orchestras possess the technical mastery for that. But this approach doesn't allow one to penetrate the emotional core of the music. Therefore, all in all, in Lucerne's competition between top ensembles, Berlin emerges victorious.