Saint-Saens: Symphony No 3 “Organ Symphony” (SACD review)

Also, Poulenc: Concerto for Organ, Strings and Timpani;
Wider: Symphony for Organ No. 5. Christopher Jacobson, organ; Kazuki Yamada,
Orchestre de la Suisse Romande. Pentatone PTC 5186 638.

By John J. Puccio

If you went to the catalogue of classical recordings, I’m
sure you’d find that the “Organ” Symphony of Saint-Saens ranks right up there
in popularity with the symphonies of Beethoven, Brahms, and Tchaikovsky. It’s
that well liked. So it’s inevitable that we get new recordings of it every
year. This new one under review is an international affair: the music is, of
course, French. The conductor, Kazuki Yamada, is Japanese. The organist,
Christopher Jacobson, is American. And the ensemble, the Orchestre de la Suisse
Romande, is the Swiss orchestra co-founded by Ernest Ansermet in 1918. Whether
this array of global talent does any better a job of interpreting the music
must be left to the individual listener, naturally, but I can tell you after
having sat through most of the recordings currently available, the new one does
a pretty good job with it.

The French composer, organist, pianist, and conductor
Camille Saint-Saens (1835-1921) wrote his Symphony No. 3 in C-minor,
“Organ,” Op. 78, in 1886. It is probably the most-popular thing he ever wrote
and, as I say, remains one of the most popular pieces of classical music of any
kind.

Saint-Saëns called the work “a symphony with organ,” and
he remarked, "I gave everything to it I was able to give. What I have here
accomplished, I will never achieve again." Apparently he knew what he was
talking about because even though he lived on for thirty-five more years, he
never wrote another symphony, organ or otherwise.

The composer divided the work into two major parts, with
two divisions in each part. It’s an odd arrangement, but it essentially works
out to a conventional four-movement symphony. What’s more, although most people
today know the work as the “Organ Symphony,” Saint-Saens himself labeled it Symphonie
No. 3 "avec orgue" (with organ). In fact, the organ only plays a
part in two of the four movements, the second and the last. But it makes enough
of an impression for folks to remember it.

The first movement has always seemed to me the least distinguished,
the least characterful, but Maestro Yamada and the orchestra do the best they
can. They establish a sweet, leisurely tempo in this section, which, if
anything, leads effectively into the second, slow movement.

The second movement Adagio always reminds me of
soft, warm waves flowing over and around one’s body on a tropical beach
somewhere. Here’s where the organ (Christopher jacobson, organist) makes its
first entry, coming in with what should be huge, gentle, undulating washes of
sound. Unfortunately, I didn’t really hear or feel those waves from the organ,
which stays remarkably aloof from the proceedings. While it’s not unpleasant,
it’s not what I expected, either. Actually, Saint-Saens labels this movement Poco
Adagio, or a little bit slow. In other words, not quite as slow as a
traditional Adagio. Yet Yamada and his team take it at a pace that seems
almost drowsy compared to many other recordings.

The two movements that comprise the finale can be fiery
and exhilarating, if not a little bombastic, with the organ blazing the trail.
Here, Yamada maintains the unhurried atmosphere he set in the beginning, giving
us a relaxed, almost tranquil close. Again, not what I expected and not at all
unpleasant, but different. Some listeners will no doubt find the reading
lyrically rewarding. However, I found it a far cry from the more electrifying
performances by Louis Fremaux and the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra
(Warner Classics/EMI), Charles Munch and the Boston Symphony (RCA/JVC), or the
steady yet still heady version by Jean Martinon and the National Orchestra of
France (EMI or Brilliant Classics), all of which remain my first-choice
recommendations.

Coupled with the Symphony are two more organ works
by French composers: Francis Poulenc’s Concerto for Organ, Strings, and
Timpani; and Charles-Maria Widor’s Toccata from his Symphony for
Organ No. 5. The Poulenc work seems especially well suited to the
understated style of Yamada and Jacobson, and it comes off with an
appropriately energetic, yet spiritual and inspirational tone. Well done. As an
encore, Jacobson gives the Widor Toccata a good, healthy flourish.

Producer Job Maarse and engineers Erdo Groot and
Jean-Marie Geijsen recorded the music at Victory Hall, Geneva, Switzerland in
August 2017. They made the recording for hybrid multichannel SACD, two-channel
SACD, and two-channel CD playback. I listened in two-channel SACD.

The hall nicely complements the sound of the orchestra,
giving it a degree of depth and resonance that some venues lack. The sonics are
smooth and natural, not particularly transparent or “audiophile” but lifelike
in their presentation. The SACD recording ensures that dynamics are there when
needed, both in range and impact, although here, too, it isn’t quite in the
audiophile class of clarity but more subtle. The organ makes a different
impression on the ears in each of the three works on the disc. It’s restrained
and a tad recessed in the Saint-Saens, more aggressive in the Poulenc, and
finally comes into its own in the solo Widor piece. Of more important note, the
organ is always well balanced with the orchestra, and that’s good to hear.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

7/5 of Beethoven: Part 2 (CD/SACD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

In Part 1, the focus was on three recordings of
Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 that featured smaller orchestras (~60
members) playing original instruments. For each of those recordings, the
conductor and/or musicologist provided liner notes that explained how the use
of such an ensemble was a key element in their quest to reproduce what they
considered to have been Beethoven’s true musical intentions.

Here in Part 2, the focus is on four recordings performed
by modern orchestras (~100 members) playing modern instruments. Even though in
this case none of the conductors needs to justify why he is employing a small
orchestra playing original instruments, all of the liner notes offer insights
into what the conductors were trying to accomplish, typically citing a desire
to reveal an authentic insight into what Beethoven had in mind as he composed
this symphonic masterpiece; two of the conductors offering their own extended
commentary.

As in Part 1, the conductors are presented in alphabetical
order. Here we go…     

Manfred Honeck, Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra.
Reference Recordings FR-718SACD (SACD) (with Symphony No. 7, released in 2015)

In the liner notes for his recording, the Austrian
conductor Manfred Honeck (b. 1958) offers several pages of thoughts and
commentary on both the historical trends in the performance of Beethoven and
his own thoughts about the Fifth and Seventh symphonies and his
approach to performing and recording them. Early in his remarks, he points out
some of the different approaches to performing the symphonies that have evolved
over the years and then observes that “there exists an unbelievable amount of
sound documents that enable us to have insights into the ‘supermarket’ of these
various interpretations. We know much more today -- and interpretations can
even come face to face and confront each other. I personally had the luxury as
a musician to play under the baton of very different conductors -- Bernstein,
von Karajan, Kleiber, Harnoncourt, Muti, Abbado, among many others.
Additionally, I hesitated for a long time before conducting the Beethoven
Symphonies. Of course, I studied them all, but I waited to program them as it
was first necessary to organize my impressions and then have a certain distance
from a variety of influences. There were also still the questions to address
which every conductor must answer with each work: Firstly, what is Beethoven's
will and what are the peculiarities of the piece? Under what circumstances was
it composed? At the time that Beethoven composed the work, what was new? What
should happen in a particular way? Which tradition, if any, should be followed?
Is it possible to find something revelatory?” He then goes on to explain in
more detail his approach to both symphonies in an essay well worth reading
should you ever come across this release.

Something you notice immediately about this performance is
that the famous opening notes, those eight immortal notes that just about
anybody can hum, are played slowly. Quite slowly, in fact. Honeck
justifies his interpretation by writing that “the use of the more deliberate
tempo gives the opening bars a grandiose weight, power and vehemence. For me,
it was essential to capture the greatest possible drama with this first statement
so as to depict the heroic character of the movement.” To my ears, at least,
his way with the opening seems an affectation, although yes, it does make
things seem more dramatic.

Honeck brings a great deal of expressiveness to his
performance, which were recorded in concert, with subtle shifts of tempo and
phrasing. His account sounds personal, but not idiosyncratic. In that respect
it is something like the Currentzis recording reviewed in Part 1, but Honeck
comes across as less rigid in his approach than Currentzis, more interested in
communicating the beauty and glory that he finds in the score rather than
exhibiting his desire to master it. Again, I would point you Honeck’s extensive
liner notes, which are well worth reading, where he explains his approach to
performing this music in some detail.

As you might expect from Reference Recordings, the
engineers (Soundmirror) have captured it all in detailed yet spacious sound,
vivid and dynamic. This is an excellent recording, well worth an audition.

Carlos Kleiber, Vienna Philharmonic. Deutsche
Grammophon 447 400-2. (CD) (with Symphony No. 7, LP was released in 1975, CD in
1995)

Since its release in the mid 1970s, this recording by the
late Austrian conductor Carlos Kleiber (1930-2004) has been considered by many
to be the gold standard for recordings of the Beethoven Fifth. It has
long been my go-to recording, which I first owned on vinyl. However, I will
confess that I had not listened to it very much over the past few years, mainly
because I simply have not listened to the Fifth all that much over the past few
years. (So many CDs, so little time…) However, as I started pulling together
CDs from my collection that I planned to use for this survey, I was startled to
discover that I owned three copies. A true embarrassment of riches!  

In contrast to the majority of the recordings in this
survey, the skimpy liner notes for the Kleiber do not feature any words from
the conductor himself. Rather, there is a brief essay by music critic Peter
Cosse, who begins by writing, “in the world of recording there are three kinds
of artist. One kind regards the medium as a permanent opportunity to place
themselves and their musical comrades before the public. They treat discs as
pages in an audio diary. A second, minute group turns its back. They refuse to
document big musical occasions, insist on the impossibility of repeating the
experience, and thus place all their faith in their listeners’ memories. A
third group, also a rather small one, does not dismiss the medium altogether
but is very, very choosy. Carlos Kleiber is one of these last… His all too
infrequent ‘Philharmonic Subscriptions Concerts in Vienna have each and every
one set the musical world ablaze, and, like these performances of Beethoven
here, left it in a state of enlightened, redeeming enchantment.”

For those music lovers who may be unfamiliar with Kleiber,
I should point out that he is widely regarded as a legendary conductor, one of
the all-time greats. One of the reasons you may not have heard of him, though,
is that he made only nine studio recordings. That’s right, nine. And two
of them are included on this CD.  

Having been impressed by some of the more modern releases
that I have come across over the past couple of years by orchestras both large
and small in recorded sound of impeccable quality, I found myself wondering how
well the venerable Kleiber version would hold up against such formidable
competition. In brief, it holds up pretty darn well. Like Honeck, Kleiber seems
to bring a personal touch to the score, more flexible in tempo and dynamics
than the two conductors listed below. This is epic-sounding Beethoven. It is
easy to see why so many critics and classical music fans have considered this
to be a reference version. It certainly seems quite capable of leaving
listeners in a “state of enlightened, redeeming enchantment.” It has certainly
done that for me on occasion.

I was pleasantly surprised to note who well the
engineering has held up. It might not be quite as transparent or spacious as
the Reference Recordings or Telarc discs, and there is just a touch of hardness
from time to time in the massed strings, but overall, it still sounds quite
acceptable. Actually, better than acceptable. No, not quite “audiophile
quality,” but pretty darn good. Those DG engineers made a lot of recordings in
Vienna and obviously knew what they were doing.   

Benjamin Zander, Philharmonia Orchestra. Telarc
CD-80471. (CD) (with Symphony No. 7, released in 1999)

English conductor Benjamin Zander (b. 1939) is probably
best known to classical music fans with an audiophile bent for his series of
Mahler recordings for the Telarc label back in the late 1990s through the early
2000s. This Beethoven release proved to be his only Beethoven recording on
Telarc; like the Mahler releases, it includes a bonus disc on which Zander
presents a lecture on the music and his approach to the performance. Well known
for his strong opinions, he throws down the gauntlet in the liner notes with an
attitude similar to that of Currentzis: “It will surely come as a surprise to
most listeners that works as familiar as Beethoven’s Fifth and Seventh
Symphonies have rarely received performances that realize Beethoven’s stated
wishes as to how the music should be played, and that this tradition of
ignoring the composer’s intentions began in Beethoven’s own time! It
seems that from the very beginning conductors chose to disregard -- or simply
didn’t look at -- the metronome marks Beethoven left for his symphonies. In
doing so they radically altered the ‘meaning’ of the music and established a
tradition of performance that is far removed from what Beethoven seems to have
intended… But how did this situation arise? Is there a right and a wrong way of
performing this music? Or is its interpretation purely a subjective matter?

Let's take the opening of the Fifth Symphony --
certainly the most famous four notes of music ever penned. If we hear it
performed as slowly as it was by such great conductors as Furtwangler,
Stokowski, and Klemperer, the music speaks with majesty, force, power, ‘Fate
knocking on the door.’ If, on the other hand, we hear it at the tempo indicated
both by Beethoven’s Italian direction Allegro con brio and by his
metronome marking...it seems driving, violent, impetuous, headlong, as though a
gauntlet were being thrown down in defiance. But which is the ‘true’ version?
Clearly, when Beethoven was composing that opening he must have had some
particular ‘meaning’ or sound in mind. He cannot possibly have heard it both at
the slower tempo and at the faster one, and it is unlikely that he was
indifferent about the matter -- just as unlikely as that he would have been
indifferent about which notes were played. For Beethoven cared so deeply about
the tempi at which his works were performed that, according to his friend Anton
Schindler, whenever he heard about a performance of one of them, ‘his first
question invariably was: “How were the tempi?” Every other consideration seemed
to be of secondary importance to him’ In fact, Beethoven cared so much about
such issue of tempo that he left more detailed instructions on the subject than
did virtually any other composer… So why should his tempo indications for the
symphonies have been so rarely observed in performance? Most conductors have
rejected the indicated tempi because they consider them too fast. Ironically,
though, both the final movements of the Fifth and Seventh are traditionally
played faster than Beethoven’s indicated tempo, demolishing the argument
that since all his tempi are too fast, it is reasonable to assume his metronome
was broken. Moreover Beethoven’s letters make it clear that he took great pains
to have his metronome in good working order.”

Convinced yet? As you can see, Zander makes quite the case
for fast tempos, and as you might expect, this is a brisk, energetic reading.
At the time of its initial release, it sounded almost maniacally fast, but part
of that perception was due to the contrast with more traditional, expansive
recordings. Since then, largely spurred by the original
instruments/historically informed practice (HIP) recordings of conductors such
as Norrington, Gardiner (reviewed in Part 1), and Bruggen, our ears have become
more accustomed to brisker Beethoven. In any event, this is an interesting recording.
The Telarc engineers did a good job of capturing a spacious sound. Although the
performance is fast, it does not otherwise sound willful or eccentric. It just
comes across as a well-recorded, fast-paced performance of the Beethoven Fifth.

David Zinman, Tonhalle Orchestra Zurich. Arte Nova ANO
496950 (CD) (with Symphony No. 6, released in 1997)

Speaking of Telarc, American conductor David Zinman
(b.1936) made some excellent recordings with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra
on that late lamented label back in the day. I can recall hearing him on some
NPR radio program back then, coming across as witty, genial – someone who would
be great to just hang with when you needed your batteries recharged. Many
classical music fans surely remember – and probably have on their shelves
somewhere – his 1992 Nonesuch recording with dawn Upshaw and the London
Sinfonietta of Gorecki’s Symphony No. 3 (“Symphony of Sorrowful Songs”),
which incredibly went on to sell more than a million copies worldwide. In 1995,
he became Music Director of the Zurich Tonhalle Orchestra, with which he soon
embarked on a series of Beethoven recordings. In addition to the complete
symphonies, he also made excellent recordings of the piano concertos, the
violin concerto, and the Missa Solemnis.

Unlike most of the recordings in this survey, there are no
remarks by the conductor to accompany this CD. The claim on the cover is that
it is the “world premiere recording on modern instruments according to the new
Barenreiter edition”. The liner notes do not discuss the symphony or its
performance; rather, they discuss the problem of finding the true textual
version of the score. One interesting note is that in the back-cover blurb
about the orchestra, the size of the Tonhalle Orchestra is said to be 97 members,
reminding us that the modern orchestra is more than half again as large as the
orchestras of Beethoven’s time.

Zinman conducts a fleet but expressive performance that
has been well-captured by the engineering team. Not quite in the same league as
the Reference Recordings or the Telarc, but certainly quite decent.  Everything about this release seems to be
well-balanced. Nothing seems to come across as overly emphasized, neither in
the sound nor in the performance. Although Zinman’s tempi are often close to
those of Zander, the Zinman performance never sounds rushed. He never seems to
be pushing the orchestra; rather, the energy just seems to flow naturally from
the score rather than the conductor. This is truly a wonderful recording. The
only drawback is that it may be hard to find, alas, at least on CD.

Concluding Unscientific Postscript: Well, that was
fun. At least for me; I hope you got at least a little something out of it. If
nothing else, I hope it makes you realize that there are many factors
involved in performing and recording a musical composition and many ways to
shape a successful interpretation. I hope it inspires you to pick one of your
favorite recordings of classical music and compare it to several others, either
from your own library, the public library, the collection of a friend, or
perhaps by way of a streaming service. Read the liner notes, get comfortable,
do some listening, maybe take some notes, listen some more, and see what you
think. You may well wind up with more than one favorite recording by the time
you are through.

As I wrote in Part 1 of this survey, I found all seven of
these recordings to be excellent. I could sit down right now and enjoy any one
of them. I own six of them and plan to keep all six. The seventh (Honeck) goes
back to the library tomorrow; I have used up my 10 renewals and must finally
return it after a couple of months or so. I will probably check it out again,
and might even pick up a copy of my own one of these days.

As much as you might want me to, I just can’t pick one
favorite. All I can say is that of the three original-instrument recordings
from Part 1, the Savall is my favorite, and possibly my favorite of all seven.
But possibly not. Of the four modern orchestra recordings, it really is hard to
pick a favorite. I am married to the Kleiber (thrice!), I love the Zinman, I
have a crush on the Honeck, and will date the Zander from time to time (please
don’t tell the Kleiber).

All seven versions have their special points of appeal.
The Currentzis sounds great in the car, its exaggerations punching through the
tire and wind noise and keeping me energized. The Gardiner is part of a
complete set that sounds great and is available at a bargain price. The Savall
is truly impressive in terms of both performance and sound; in addition, its
physical package is truly first-class. The Honeck sounds amazing, comes with a
fine Seventh, and includes detailed liner notes that are quite
instructive. The Kleiber is a remarkable performance that is also packaged with
a truly excellent Seventh. The Zander is a bracing performance that
includes not only an energetic Seventh but a bonus disc in which the
conductor discusses the music. And the Zinman just sounds just right. You can’t
go wrong with any of them, although you might go a bit astray with the
Currentzis.  

Finally, for those who care about such things, here are
the timings for all seven recordings.

Mvt	Currentzis	Gardiner	Honeck	Kleiber	Savall	Zander	Zinman
5-1	6:42	6:30	7:11	7:22	7:03	6:23	6:49
5-2	8:40	8:15	9:06	10:00	8:25	8:43	8:45
5-3	4:41	7:12	4:56	5:09	7:46	4:21	7:19
5-4	10:35	9:50	10:08	10:51	11:03	10:40	10:25

KWN

Senfter: Compositions for Two Violins (CD review)

Concerto in C minor for Two Violins and String
Orchestra, Op. 40; Ten Old Dances for Two Violins, Op. 91. Aleksandra
Maslovaric, violin; Katarina Aleksic, violin; Budapest Symphony Orchestra. Feminae
Records CD1901.

By John J. Puccio

These days most people would not recognize the name of
German composer Johanna Senfter (1879-1961), even though she wrote some 134
pieces of classical music, eight of them symphonies. Such is life that most of
them go forgotten. It was especially hard for a female composer to make much
headway in a largely male-dominated musical world. So, enter Feminae Records, a
company dedicated to promoting the work of female composers, many of them long
neglected.

Although not a lot is known about Senfter beyond her
music, she did leave behind one revealing quote: “Listen and play my music,
then you understand me.”

As the founder of Feminae Records, violinist Aleksandra
Maslovaric, writes at the Feminae Web site, “Women have been making and
composing music for centuries, millennia even! We believe that revealing and
sharing this outstanding repertoire--balancing the ‘playing field,’ if you
will--is a critical part of ensuring that concert music has genuine value and
meaning for generations to come. Therefore, Feminae Records will continue to
produce and release works by great female composers, both forgotten and
yet-to-be-discovered. Our sons and daughters deserve this legacy.”

On the present recording, Ms. Maslovaric is joined by
fellow violinist Katarina Aleksic and in the concerto by the Budapest Symphony
strings to bring several of Johanna Senfter’s compositions back to life.

The first work on the disc is the most substantial, the Concerto
in C minor for Two Violins and String Orchestra, Op. 40. It’s a short work,
four movements combining for a little under eighteen minutes, but it’s a lovely
and rewarding piece. The second, slow movement is particularly enchanting,
graceful and longing. The third movement, labeled “Lustig” (“funny”) is also a
charmer--light, sprightly, airy, bouncy. Ms. Maslovaric calls the
third-movement themes “enchanting.” One can understand why. The final movement,
“Bewegt” (“emotional,” “moving”) sums up the concerto’s material nicely,
drawing the piece to a satisfying conclusion. It’s a twentieth-century
composition, but it is also a definite throwback to an earlier age of Romanticism.

For much of the concerto I forgot there were two violins
playing, the two performers so richly intertwined in the music. They both play
with poise and style, putting the music ahead of any special grandstanding.
They are an accomplished pair.

Following the Concerto, we hear Ten Old Dances
for Two Violins, Op. 91, comprising two suites. They are mainly Baroque in
nature, as evidenced by the familiar titles of the individual dances:
“Allemande,” “Courante,” “Sarabande,” “Gavotte,” “Gigue,” “Bourree,” “Minuet,”
“Loure,” and “Passepied en Rondeau.” Nevertheless, despite their Baroque
connections, these dances are clearly the products of a twentieth-century
sensibility. It’s a charming combination of styles, actually, and under the
guidance of the two soloists they bounce along quite amiably, producing a
variety of emotions with an emphasis on joy.

Producers Jonathan Shephard and Aleksandra Maslovaric and
engineer Redly Denes recorded the music at Studio 22, Magyar Radio, Budapest,
Hungary. A lot of well-recorded discs have come my way lately; this is one of
them. The two violins are clear and resplendent. The backup strings in the
concerto are well integrated into the sonic picture, the
soloists well positioned in front of the orchestra. The transparency of sound
throughout the recording is welcome to the ear,.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

7/5 of Beethoven: Part 1 (CD/SACD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

For the general public and even among avid aficionados of
classical music, Ludwig van Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 is with little
doubt the most widely recognized symphony in the entire symphonic canon. Those
first four notes have been indelibly etched into our musical consciousness
regardless of whether we associate them with fate knocking at the door
(Schindler, Beethoven’s secretary), victory (WW II), or simply as
“da-da-da-daaaaa.” My guess would be that most lovers of classical music are
familiar with the work, and more likely than not have a favorite recording, or
maybe several favorites from the myriad recordings available. The Fifth
is one of those pieces that just about every conductor and every orchestra has
had a go at over the years.

I have found myself doing a lot of listening to the Fifth
lately and going through some of the recordings in my own collection. One of
the things that struck me is how conductors seem to make a point of explaining
why they have taken the approach they have taken toward the piece, the factors
that have influenced their interpretation. Although each conductor would
certainly have his or her own reasons for interpreting any composition, it
seems as though the very ubiquity of recordings motivates conductors to explain
why they have made the interpretive choices they have made. As we read through
the thoughts of the seven conductors that I have included in this survey, we
would do well to realize that conductors make interpretive choices about any
piece of music they record, even though they do not necessarily share their
thoughts with us as they have done when recording this iconic symphony.

I have spent a good deal of time listening to these
performances, thinking about the similarities and differences in both musical
and sonic terms, but mainly just enjoying this magnificent music. To be honest,
these are all fine performances and all are well recorded. Although I have my
preferences, those preferences are not the result of night-and-day differences.
They have changed in the past and could change in the future. That is part of
the joy of being a music lover. The musical landscape is not fixed and static.
There are new compositions being written and recorded, older compositions being
exposed to new light and fresh eyes. There are always new recordings to explore
and discover, older recordings to rediscover, so many recordings, so little
time, but so much joy.

Please note that I have ordered the seven recordings
alphabetically by type. In Part 1, the performances are by orchestras of
Beethoven-era size, about 60 musicians, while the other four performances,
which will be covered in Part 2, are by modern orchestras of about 100 members.
So buckle up, here we go…

Teodor Currentzis, musicAeterna. Sony Classics
19075884972 (CD)

Teodor Currentzis (b. 1972), born in Greece and now living
in Russia, where he assembled the group of musicians that form musicAeterna,
writes in his liner notes, “what most people know about Beethoven is the result
of the performance practices of the 20^th century, entering our lives
through the legacy of famous postromantic recordings… I truly believe that the
first rule for a true immersion into Beethoven’s Fifth symphony is trying to
forget what you took for granted from the history of its interpretation, and to
reexamine nonnegotiable solid habits of performing history. In that way, I
believe, you can start taking your first steps toward the desert space of your
own intuition outside the luxurious sarcophagus of tradition. Indeed, this
difficult process took me over twenty years, until I started to see and hear
this music as something new. However, this ‘something new’ is necessary as it
gives you the shock of the first impact that Beethoven definitely wanted, but
that has been wasted in the pseudo-existential factories of recording legacy…
My only desire for this recording is to bring to the music dramaturgy of the
Fifth Symphony the so-called catharsis, in all possible states, starting from
the physical state of metronome and form, to the spiritual state of ‘music not
to be found in the notes.’”

Although it does not affect my aesthetic judgment about
the quality of this release, I do want to point out that of all the Beethoven Fifth
recordings available on CD, this is the only one of which I am aware that
contains only the Fifth. I would imagine that for some folks,
that would be a deal-breaker right there, although to be fair, I would point
out that it is available at a lower price than some of the major labels charge
(although yes, those labels are giving you more than 31 minutes of music).

That said, I will start out by observing that this is an
exciting performance. The first time I heard it, I was amazed at how energetic
it sounded and how tight and disciplined the orchestra sounded. If nothing
else, this is a recording that makes one heck of a first impression!

As I listened more closely, though, I also found myself
feeling as though the performance was in some sense too tight, too disciplined,
too earnest in its attempt to drive home the power of Beethoven’s score. There
are places where you feel that the conductor is just trying to be a bit
different, accenting notes in a slightly different way, punching them a touch
too forcefully, making the music seem more breathless, reaching at times beyond
drama toward melodrama.

The engineering is also “tight.” It was recorded in the
Grosser Saal at the Vienna Konzerthaus (not the famous Musikverein, home of the
Vienna Philharmonic). There is some hall resonance, but the recording gives the
sense of a relatively small space. To these ears at least, it sounds something
like a big studio rather than a small hall.

Still, this is an intriguing and stimulating recording. No
matter how familiar you are with the Beethoven Fifth, I believe you will
be struck by this recording, that it would make you hear the music as with new
ears. You might not find it your favorite recording, but you will be glad you
gave it a listen. It may well stimulate you to take a renewed interest in this
music and set some time aside to listen to some other recordings. Indeed, as I
look back upon my experience, I realize that this is the recording that led to
my wanting to do this survey. Upon hearing the Currentzis, I immediately wanted
to re-listen to some of the other recordings on my shelves to see how they
compared. It was similar to what happened when I first heard the Savall Eroica
from has boxed set – the music sounded so fresh and exciting that I wondered
how recordings I had not listened to for a while would compare, so I pulled
several Eroica recordings off my shelf and started listening with newly
attentive ears. ()

John Eliot Gardiner, Orchestre Revolutionnaire et
Romantique. DG Archiv Produktion 477 8643 (CD from box with Symphonies Nos.
1-9)

Sir John Eliot Gardiner (b. 1943), an English conductor
who is primarily known for his interpretations of music from the Baroque and
Classical eras, founded the Orchestre Revolutionnaire et Romantique in 1989. In
his liner notes to Gardiner’s boxed set of the complete Beethoven cycle, the
noted music critic music Richard Osborne opines that “the Fifth is
another of Beethoven’s great transforming journeys whose evolution from the
embattled C minor opening (‘Fate knocking at the door’) to the fervent C major
march finale is both personal and political, and enactment of the contemporary
philosophical belief that out of the French Revolution’s confrontation with the
old order, a new synthesis, a brave new world, could be born.” He goes on to
observe of the Orchestre Revolutionnaire et Symphonique, a period instrument
ensemble, that “for Gardiner the role of this new 60-strong orchestra was
central to the Beethoven cycle. Period instruments, he argued, allow us to hear
more in these symphonies; the edge is not taken off as it can be with
instruments of a later period and sophistication. The instruments also help
underwrite the revolutionary nature of Beethoven’s genius. Without the
‘traffic-jam’ sonorities modern instrument can induce, Gardiner could press
forward with tempi and dynamics that drive home the sense of Beethoven pushing
his material to its limits. This can be a shock to players and listeners, but
it is a shock, says Gardiner, which is mitigated by the music’s energy and
humanity.”

Gardiner’s Beethoven cycle was recorded in the early 1990s
and released in 1994 as a deluxe boxed set by Deutsche Grammophon, which
re-released the recordings on its Archiv budget label in 2010. Perceptive
readers may already have been struck by the thought that Currentzis was
certainly not the first conductor to question the 20^th-centrry
performance tradition. In fact, five years before the Gardiner set was released
by DG, another English conductor, Roger Norrington, had completed a traversal
of the symphonies for EMI with his own period-instrument orchestra, the London
Classical Players. Those recordings were quite a sensation at the time. I owned
several of them, found them interesting, but they eventually disappeared from
my collection. Perhaps at some point I will seek out and re-listen to his
version of the Fifth (yep -- so many recordings, so little time!), which
I do not remember that much about (my main memory of his Beethoven was that his
Eroica was exhilarating but not my favorite while his Ninth just
struck me as perverse).

In addition, in the early 2000s Norrington made another
recording of the cycle, this time with the Radio-Sinfonieorchester Stuttgart,
of which he was Principal Conductor from 1998 to 2011. In 2016 the orchestra
for budgetary reasons was merged with another Stuttgart-based orchestra, the
Southwest German Radio Symphony Orchestra, to form the SWR Symphonieorchester,
whose current Chief Conductor is none other than – you can’t make this stuff up
– Teodor Currentzis. 

But back to Gardiner. His Beethoven cycle has gained wide
acclaim and has generally been considered to be the best of the
period-instrument bunch. (One quick digression: I greatly prefer his Ninth
to Norrington’s.) His recording of the Fifth was captured from live
performances in Barcelona in March, 1994. Once again, we hear a performance
marked by energy and exuberance, but not as idiosyncratic as that of
Currentzis. The music just seems to breathe a bit easier, the phrasing and
accents not as sharply highlighted as they are under Currentzis. In addition,
the sound comes across as a bit more spacious and warm. All in all, this is a
crackerjack rendition of the Fifth, and the five-disc set is widely available
at a bargain price. If you are a Beethoven fan, you really ought to give this
set a listen.   
 
Jordi Savall, Le Concert des Nations. Alia Vox
AVSA9937. (SACD, from box with Symphonies Nos. 1-5)

In my review of Savall’s boxed set of Beethoven’s first
five symphonies () I mentioned that I would be comparing his version of the
Fifth to several other recordings. Well, here we are.

Once again, we have comments from the conductor regarding
his approach to the music, which by now should be starting to sound familiar.
Savall (b. 1941) writes in the album booklet that “all our orchestral work was
done using instruments corresponding to those used in Beethoven’s day and with
a similar number of musicians to those deployed by the composer for the first
performances of his symphonies, in other words, about 55 to 60 musicians, depending
on the symphonies... we started with the basic idea of returning to the
original sound and line-up of the orchestra as envisaged by Beethoven,
constituted by the ensemble of instruments available in his day. Moreover, we
needed to discover the original sources for the existing manuscripts, we
studied and compared not only the autograph sources and the extant parts used
in the first concert performances, but also modern editions based on those same
sources, with the aim of verifying all the indications concerning dynamics and
articulation… Our principal aim of projecting in our 21st century the full
richness and beauty of these well-known symphonies -- all too often presented
in an oversized, overelaborate form, is to restore to these works their essential
energy through a proper natural balance between the colours and the quality of
the orchestra’s natural sound. In Beethoven’s day, that sound was produced by
the stringed instruments (catgut strings and historic bows), woodwind
instruments; flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons and contrabassoons; brass
instruments; sackbuts, trumpets and natural trumpets and the period tympani
played with wooden drumsticks. The resulting brilliance, articulation, balance
and revolutionary dynamics form the basis of a dynamism based on a respect for
Beethoven’s intended tempi (barring a few rare exceptions) and the phrasing to
which they give rise, in accordance with the mood indications and the dramatic
narrative sustained by the spiritual power of its own message.”

Interestingly, this recording took place in a venue not
far from where the Gardiner recording was made, Savall in Cardona, Spain, which
is a half-hour or so away from Barcelona. Perhaps there is something in the
Spanish air… At any rate, once again we have a performance in which the
conductor backs up his words by leading a performance that shows off the
“natural energy” and “dynamism” of this remarkable music. The more I listen to
Savall’s performance, the more I am in awe of what Beethoven produced in this incredible
work that we perhaps take too much for granted these days. As you would expect
from a period-instrument performance, the tempos are brisk and the dynamics are
lively. The power of the performance is enhanced by the sound quality that the
engineering team has managed to capture. Savall seems to build his performance
upon a solid foundation of lower strings and tympani, which are well-captured
by the microphones. In addition to the warm tonal balance, there is a fine
sense of physical space, which audiophiles often term as “imaging.” This is an
outstanding performance captured in outstanding fidelity. It is my first choice
among the period-instrument recordings I have auditioned.

In Part 2, we will consider four modern-orchestra
recordings. Stay tuned.

Beethoven: Complete Sonatas for Piano & Violin (CD review)

Performed on historic instruments by Cullan Bryant,
piano, and Jerilyn Jorgensen, violin. Albany Records TROY 1825-28 (4-disc set).

By John J. Puccio

It’s music by Beethoven, so the merits of the source
material are a given. Then, too, it’s rendered by a pair of accomplished
players, so the performances are a given. And, what’s more, it’s extremely well
recorded, so the sound is a given. The “however” is that we already have a slew
of excellent recordings of this music in the catalogue, so what’s the real
advantage of this new set? The answer is simple: It’s good music played by good
performers in good sound, plus the performers play on historic instruments,
some of them actually used during Beethoven’s lifetime. There is, in fact,
nothing to dislike about this issue, unless you just don’t like Beethoven or
period instruments.

First, a word about the performers: Cullan Bryant is the
pianist. The booklet note tells us he “is among the most active chamber and
collaborative pianists in New York City, maintaining a schedule of over 50
recitals a year. Mr. Bryant made his Carnegie Hall debut in 1992 in recital
with violinist Patmore Lewis.” Jerilyn Jorgensen is the violinist. She “is a
member of the performance faculty of Colorado College and has been adjunct
faculty in violin and chamber music at the Lamont School of Music of the
University of Denver as swell as Visiting Assistant Professor Violin at the
Crane School of Music, SUNY Potsdam. From 1980-2004 she was first violinist of
the Da Vinci Quartet, as and a member of that ensemble she has performed
throughout the United States, been a prizewinner in the Shostakovich
International String Quartet Competition and finalist in the Naumburg Chamber
Music Competition and appeared on PBS’s NewHour with Jim Lehrer.”

Next, a word about the period instruments. For Sonatas
Nos. 1 and 4 Mr. Bryant plays an unsigned Viennese Style Piano, c.
1795. For Sonatas Nos. 2 and 8, he plays a Joseph Brodmann,
1800-1805, Vienna. For Nos. 3, 5, 6, and 7, he plays a Caspar
Katholnig, c. 1805-1810. For No. 9 he plays a Johann Nepomuk Trundlin,
1830, Leipzig. And for No. 10 it’s an Ignaz Bosendorfer, c. 1828-1832,
Vienna. All of the pianos were on loan from the Frederick Historical Piano
Collection, Ashburnham, Massachusetts.

Ms. Jorgensen has it a little easier. She plays the same
violin for all ten sonatas: an Andrea Carolus Leeb model, 1797, Vienna.
However, she uses a variety of historical bows: a Francois Xavier Tourte
(1748-1835); an Anonymous Cramer Head from the same period; a School of Tourte,
c. 1830; and an Anonymous German bow.

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) wrote ten sonatas for
piano and violin between 1797 and 1812, the first three of them dedicated to
one of his mentors, Antonio Salieri. Yes, that Salieri, of Amadeus
fame. Interestingly, while people today most often refer to Beethoven’s Sonatas
for Piano & Violin as simply his “violin sonatas,” the composer’s own
notations show that he titled No. 9 "Sonata per il Pianoforte ed
uno violino obligato in uno stile molto concertante come d’un concerto."
Maybe “violin sonata” is simpler after all, and, in any case, most of the
sonatas put emphasis the violin.Now, about the performances. Here, I must confess I have
been living since the 1970’s happily and contentedly with the peerless set by
Vladimir Ashkenazy and Itzhak Perlman (Decca), and I have never really looked
or even thought about replacing them with anything else. Until now. Of course,
Ashkenazy and Perlman play on modern instruments, which makes this new set from
Bryant and Jorgensen such a revelation; they play with an easy charm and adept
virtuosity. Their set doesn’t displace Ashkenazy/Perlman, mind you, but it easily
finds a place on the shelf as a period-instrument alternative.

About the music: I have never really cared much for the
first few sonatas. They seem to me a lot like Beethoven’s first two symphonies:
firmly rooted in the classical period, rather brief and formalized in the
eighteenth tradition. Yet Bryant and Jorgensen provide them with plenty of
vitality, and they spring to life with commendable ease. Then, starting with
the fourth sonata, things begin opening up. There’s a greater Romantic spirit
to the music, and the fifth sonata, the “Spring” sonata, is a special favorite
of mine for its lyrical beauty. In both Nos. 4 and 5 Beethoven
suddenly sounds more imaginative, more dramatic, more creative, and in some
cases even more operatic than he had sounded in the first three sonatas. Bryant
and Jorgensen’s rendition of No. 5 is worth the price of the whole
four-disc set.

By the time Beethoven reached Sonata No. 9, he had
achieved the pinnacle of his mastery of the genre, and Bryant and Jorgensen
play the piece with a commanding authority. Incidentally, for those of you
worried that the performers might take these period performances at a
breakneck, “historically informed” speed, they don’t. The tempos they adopt are
relaxed and beautifully judged; they serve the music well.

Anyway, by comparison to Ashkenazy/Perlman, Bryant and
Jorgensen sound a bit heavier and more sedate, but a lot of this we may
attribute to the instruments they use. The period violin is not as light or
polished sounding as a modern instrument, and the period pianos have not quite
the same vibrancy or golden, mellifluous tone of modern grand pianos.
Nevertheless, the uniqueness of the period sound is well worth the listen, and
the playing is easily up to the task.

Producers Lolly Lewis and Hector Milete and engineer
Christopher Greenleaf recorded the sonatas at Ashburnham Community Church,
Ashburnham, Massachusetts in 2016-2018. The sound is fairly close, so the
instruments loom a bit large; but the sound is not hard, bright, or edgy. In
fact, it’s quite smooth, while being well defined. The acoustics of the church
are warm and mildly reverberant, providing a realistic setting for the
presentation.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Respighi: Roman Trilogy (SACD Review)

Fontane di Roma, Pini di Roma, Feste Romane. John
Wilson, Sinfonia of London. Chandos CHSA 5261.

By Karl W. Nehring

Respighi’s “Roman Trilogy” consists of The Fountains of
Rome (1914-16), The Pines of Rome (1923-24), and Roman Festivals
(1928). The three works combined take about an hour to perform, so with the
advent of the CD era, they were often bundled together, as they are here. Of
the three, the Pines and Fountains are probably the more popular,
and in the LP era, they were often recorded together, one work per side of
vinyl. What we have here on this Chandos SACD release is the entire trilogy,
performed by the Sinfonia of London under the direction of John Wilson.

Unless you happen to follow the British music scene, you may
never have ever heard of the Sinfonia of London, which is not one of the
established London orchestras such as the London Symphony, London Philharmonic,
or the similarly-named London Sinfonietta. Rather, the Sinfonia of London is a
pickup orchestra that assembles for specific recording or concert performances.
Originally assembled in the 1950s to record film scores (a lucrative source of
income for orchestral musicians) it is now in its third incarnation, which was
assembled under conductor Wilson in 2018 to undertake recording projects. Its
members include musicians from the more well-known London orchestras as well as
some skilled chamber musicians and soloists. Wilson and the orchestra have thus
far released three recordings for Chandos, the previous two being music by
Korngold and a disc of French music titled Escales, which was reviewed
by JJP (https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/03/escales-french-orchestral-works-sacd.html).

The end result of the efforts of the orchestra, conductor,
and engineering team is a disc that makes Respighi’s music sound exciting
indeed. The program opens with Roman Festivals, which is generally
regarded as the musically weakest but most aurally spectacular of the three
compositions. As noted musicologist and author Nigel Simeone observes in his
liner notes, “Feste Romana was composed in 1928, completing the trilogy
and adding a new dimension to it: there is a sharper edge to the orchestration
and more dissonance in the harmonies… The orchestra is even larger than in Fontane
and Pini, including a vast array of percussion as well as organ,
four-hand piano, and mandolin. In the programme for the first performance,
Respighi was quoted as saying that Feste Romane ‘represents the maximum
of orchestral sonority and colour’ in his scores, and he is not exaggerating…
It may be the least known of the Roman Triptych, but Feste Romane is
probably the most audacious of the three: undoubtedly extravagant and even
uproarious, it is also an astonishing demonstration of Respighi’s
inventiveness.” Without embarrassment, Wilson and his forces play this music
for all it is worth, with both the performance and the sound communicating an
energetic sense of revelry with unabashed enthusiasm and panache.

Next on the program is the first-composed of the trilogy, The
Fountains of Rome. Although not as spectacular in scope as the Festivals,
it is still quite a colorful composition. Although today it is an accepted part
of the orchestral repertory, there are still some music lovers who seem to
consider it something of a second-tier piece. No, it is not as profound as
Bruckner or Mahler, but it is certainly fun to hear. Once again, Wilson and his
merry band play it with gusto, bringing energy and excitement to the score.

The program closes with what has become Respighi’s most
well-known and well-loved composition, the Pines of Rome. Arturo
Toscanini was an early advocate of the Pines, conducting its American
premier in January, 1926, in his debut concert as director of the New York
Philharmonic. He often performed it in concert over the next three decades and
eventually recording it with the NBC Symphony Orchestra in 1953. It has been
recorded many times by many conductors and orchestras over the years, with well
over 100 recordings available. (By the way, I plan to do an overview of some
noteworthy recordings in a future installment – but no, it will not cover
anywhere near 100!) As you might expect, Wilson and his orchestra also bring
energy and enthusiasm to bear in their performance, which sparkles with color
that is well-captured by the Chandos engineering headed up by veteran soundman
Ralph Couzens. Although my favorite of all Pines recordings that I have
auditioned remains the 1959 effort by Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony on
RCA, this version need not hang its head in shame. It is a good one.

So, all things considered, how does this recording of the
Roman Trilogy stack up against other versions? Obviously (at least to me), I
have not heard them all, but I have auditioned and owned some very good ones. I
would put this new Chandos version right up there with the best I have heard.
It is well-played and well-recorded. Allow me to quickly compare it to two
other versions (please note that I am talking now about recordings of the
trilogy, not of just the Pines, which I plan to discuss in a future
installment). One of my favorite recordings has been that by the Pittsburgh
Symphony Orchestra conducted by Lorin Maazel (Sony Classical SK 66843). The
performance is not as energetic as that by Wilson, but the recording is more
natural-sounding, giving a more distant, more comfortable perspective. My other
favorite is a recording that is not nearly as widely known, Respighi
Complete Orchestral Music Volume 1 by the Orchestra Sinfonica di Roma
conducted by Francesco La Vecchia (Brilliant Classics 2CD 94392). Their
performance is warmer and softer, especially in the quieter passages, with
recording quality to match. All in all, this new Chandos SACD is an excellent
recording that is well worth an audition by classical music fans, even those
who already own other recordings. Wilson and his players bring in-your-face
energy and excitement to this music that is remarkable to hear.

Bonus Recommendations: As we head into 2021, I thought it might be appropriate to look back at
some of my favorite classical recordings of 2020. As JJP said in his favorites
list (https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2021/01/favorite-classical-recordings-of-2020.html),
I am not claiming that these are the “best” recordings of the year; rather,
they are some that I particularly enjoyed about which I would just like to pass
along some quick thoughts. I had planned to do 10, but could not quite
constrain myself to that number. At any rate, here goes: 

Bach: Works and Reworks. Vikingur
Olafsson, piano. Deutsche Grammophon 4837769. With Works
clocking in at more than 77 minutes and Reworks at more than 44, richly
informative liner notes, and splendid recording quality throughout, this
release is a must-have for Bach lovers and a splendid introduction to those who
may be just getting into “classical” music.

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/03/bach-works-and-reworks-cd-review.html

Beethoven: Revolution: Symphonies 1-5. Jordi
Savall, Le Concert des Nations. Alia Vox AVSA9937. The
planning, preparation, and passion that Savall, his players, the recording
engineer, and the Alia Vox staff who produced the meticulously conceived and
beautifully executed physical package (one of the finest I have ever run
across) have brought to this project have resulted in a Beethoven box that
excels in every way. This is reference-quality Beethoven, no doubt about it.

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/12/beethoven-revolution-symphonies-1-5.html

Clyne: Dance; Elgar: Cello Concerto.
Inbal Segev, cello; Marin Alsop, London Philharmonic Orchestra. AVIE AV2419. Although the cello is pushed
too far forward in the Clyne (better in the Elgar), my enthusiasm for both the
music and the performances leads me to give this new release from AVIE a highly
enthusiastic recommendation.

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/08/clyne-dance-cd-review.html

Clyne: Mythologies. Marin Alsop, Sakari Oramo,
Andrew Litton, André de Ridder (conductors), BBC Symphony Orchestra; Jennifer
Koh, violin; Irene Buckley, voice. AVIE AV2434. This is a
wonderful recording of music by a composer who deserves wider recognition. I
fervently hope that even more recordings of music by Ms. Clyne will be
forthcoming, as she has a vivid imagination and a wondrous talent for
orchestration. Brava!

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2021/01/clyne-mythologies-cd-review.html

Dalbavie: La source d’un regard; Oboe
Concerto; Flute Concerto; Cello Concerto. Ludovic Morlot, Seattle Symphony;
DeMarre McGill, flute; Mary Lynch, oboe; Jay
Campbell, cello. Seattle Symphony Media SSM022. Interesting new music, excellent recorded sound, helpful liner notes, and a generous
length of nearly 73 minutes.

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/01/dalbavie-la-source-dun-regard-cd-review.html

Debussy-Rameau: Vikingur Olafsson, piano. Deutsche Grammophon 479 7701. Vikingur once again provides an extensive liner note essay on the music
that is fascinating and enlightening. The artwork and layout of the included
booklet are attractive and readable, even to “mature” eyes such as mine, and
the CD is packed with nearly 80 minutes of music.

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/04/debussy-rameau-cd-review.html

Esenvalds: Translations. Ethan Sperry,
Portland State Chamber Choir; Charles Noble, viola; Marilyn de Oliveira, cello; David Walters, singing
handbells; Joel Bluestone, vibraphone, glockenspiel, chimes; Florian Conzetti,
vibraphone, suspended cymbal, bass drum. Naxos
8.574124. Not only is the program outstanding, but so is the production. The liner
notes by conductor Sperry are helpful, lyrics are included, and the recorded
program is nearly 70 minutes long. The musicians, engineers, production staff,
and the folks at Naxos have all done themselves proud with this fine release. 

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/06/esenvalds-translations-cd-review.html

Cyrillus Kreek: The Suspended Harp of Babel.
Jaan-Eik Tulve, Vox Clamantis; Instrumental preludes and interludes by Marco
and Angela Ambrosini (nyckelharpa) and Anna-Lüsa Eller (kennel). ECM New Series
ECM 2620. The music, the performance, and the recorded
sound combine to make The Suspended Harp
of Babel an indescribably beautiful release. The informative liner notes
with lyrics translated into English add to the overall quality of the
production.

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/05/cyrillus-kreek-suspended-harp-of-babel_20.html

Shostakovich: Cello Concertos. Alban Gerhardt,
cello; Jukka-Pekka Saraste, WDR Sinfonieorchester. Hyperion CDA68340. My
long-time favorite recording has been a 1990 RCA recording featuring cellist
Natalia Gutman with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra with conductor Yuri
Temirkanov, but I have found this new Hyperion release to sound appreciably
better, lacking the slight glare of the older recording, not to mention that
Gerhardt’s playing is completely convincing.

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/12/some-new-releases-cdsacd-mini-reviews.html

Vaughan Williams: Symphony No. 5; Finzi: Concerto
for Clarinet and Strings. Michael Collins (clarinet and conductor),
Philharmonia Orchestra. BIS-2367. This new recording of the RVW Symphony
No. 5 is a very worthy addition to a crowded field. In addition to the fine
performance and sound, and added attraction of this release is the delightful
Finzi Clarinet Concerto.

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/09/vaughan-williams-symphony-no-5-sacd.html

Eric Whitacre: The Sacred Veil. Los Angeles Master
Chorale; Grant Gershon, Artistic Director; Eric Whitacre, conductor; Lisa
Edwards, piano; Jeffrey Zeigler, cello. Signum SIGCD630. A truly moving
composition; moreover, the recorded sound is of such excellent quality that the
listener is not likely to really even think about it. The music is just there,
sounding utterly natural and unstrained. This is a magnificent CD that I cannot
recommend too highly.

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/10/eric-whitacre-sacred-veil-cd-review.html

KWN

To listen to a brief excerpt from the Respighi album, click below:

Mahler: Symphony No. 1 (CD review)

Mariss Jansons, Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen
Rundfunks. BR Klassik 900179.

By John J. Puccio

During his career, the late Latvian conductor Mariss
Jansons (1943-2019) made a slew of recordings, many of which were recordings of
Gustav Mahler’s symphonies. Maybe we don’t always think of Jansons as a
Mahlerian in the way we think of, say, Bruno Walter, Otto Klemperer, Leonard
Bernstein, Georg Solti, Bernard Haitink, Simon Rattle, or Klaus Tennstedt as
Mahlerians in the stereo era, but Jansons recorded the Mahler symphonies
several times over with different orchestras and labels, and he often
programmed Mahler on his concert schedule. The disc under review is from his
last batch of Mahler recordings, this time with the Bavarian Radio Symphony
Orchestra. Being his last recorded set, you might think it was his last word on
the subject. That may be true, but it’s only his last word in the sense that
it’s among his last recordings. Whether it’s the best of his Mahler recordings
or the last word on the subject of Mahler performances in general are other,
more open questions. In other words, although this interpretation from Jansons
may be just fine and quite serviceable, one should not consider it definitive
or “the last word” on the subject. The aforementioned conductors might have had
more to say.
 
Anyway, Austrian composer and conductor Gustav Mahler
(1860-1911) premiered his Symphony No. 1 in D major in 1889, called it a
five-movement symphonic poem, and temporarily gave it the subtitle
"Titan." It was not long after, however, that he revised it to the
familiar four-movement piece we know today and dropped the "Titan"
business altogether, which is what we have here.

Mahler explained that in the First Symphony he was
trying to describe his protagonist (maybe himself) facing life, beginning with
the lighter moments of youth and proceeding to the darker years of maturity. In
the first movement, then, "Spring without End," we see Mahler's young
hero as a part of the symbolic stirring of Nature before a long spring. In the
second-movement scherzo, "With Full Sail," we find Mahler in one of
his mock-sentimental moods, displaying an exuberance that he probably meant as
ironic. In the third movement we get an intentionally awkward funeral march
depicting a hunter's fairy-tale burial, which comes off as a typical Mahler
parody. It might represent the hero's first glimpse of death or maybe Mahler's
own recollection of a youthful encounter with the death of a loved one (his
brother died a decade earlier). With Mahler, who knows. Then, in the finale,
Mahler breaks the reverie and conveys the panic "of a deeply wounded
heart," as his central figure faces the suffering of life and fate. Still,
because Mahler was a spiritual optimist, he wanted Man to triumph in the end,
so in the final twenty minutes or so Mahler pulls out all the stops and puts
the orchestra on full throttle.

Now, how does Jansons handle all of this? As I say, in a
serviceable manner. He creates a nice, leisurely opening as a long winter
finally closes out and spring, the youth, enters. However, for me it’s a little
too leisurely and tends to wear out its welcome before long. It may be an omen
of things to come in Jansons’s reading. The movements start well but tend to
get routine thereafter fairly quickly. If there’s any irony in the Scherzo
it seems lost on Jansons, who plays it so straight-arrow he drains it of any
significance. And so it goes.

Mahler said that his music was “a metaphor of the world in
tones.” Fair enough. So the conductor should give the listener enough musical
cues to relate the music to the real world, as in a tone poem. Jansons,
however, doesn’t seem so interested in having his listener interpret Mahler as
he does letting the listener know how beautiful the music can be. This approach
wears out its welcome pretty fast. The parodic funeral also seems more than a
bit flat. It’s only in the first half of the finale that Jansons appears
energized enough to pull off some flair, yet even here he is restrained, and
what should have been big and splashy sounds, instead, rather reserved by the
end. That big victory chorus at the conclusion where Mahler wanted the horn
players to stand up “to achieve the most powerful sound possible” doesn’t
measure up to what we get from some of the best recorded performances, and the
applause at the end of this live recording doesn’t improve things.

In the last analysis, I’d say this Jansons recording is an
also-ran. It’s a good try, but it fails to compete with the conductors I
mentioned in the opening, who provide the score with more color, more
imagination, and more passion. Jansons, on the other hand, gives us a
straightforward account of Mahler’s music, in a way taking it as Haitink always
did, without adding much of his own personality and letting the music speak for
itself. Yet Haitink was able to make the music come alive more than Jansons
does, who doesn’t just let it alone but lets much of it lie inert. On a more
positive note, the keep case comes with a cardboard slipcover, for whatever
that’s worth.

Producer Wilhelm Meister and engineer Peter Urban recorded
the symphony live at Munchen, Herkulessaal (Munich, Hercules Hall), in March
2007. For a live recording, it’s all right, a little close but not bright,
hard, or edgy. Although there isn’t much depth to the orchestral sound, it is
warm and smooth. OK, maybe too smooth as it leans toward the soft side as well.
With dynamics that are a bit limp, the whole affair is less than audiophile;
and, as I’ve said, the closing applause doesn’t help.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below: