Mahler: Symphony No.9 - Bamberger Symphoniker, Nott

Gustav Mahler
Symphony No. 9
Bamberger Symphoniker, Jonathan Nott
Tudor - 7162(SACD)

I include three reviews. Two are very positive, one (by Hurwitz) isn't.
He has excellent reasons for this:
1) The Orchestra is European
2) The Gramophone liked the performance a lot
3) Almost everyone else (apart from Hurwitz) liked this performance a lot

Audiophile Audition Rating: *****
The Mahler 9th is a symphonic universe, a summation of that form initiated by Haydn and sculpted by Beethoven and Bruckner. Listener involvement in the 9th is heady stuff. The work deals with the trials associated with living with always the nearness of death. If, as Keats puts it, “death is life’s high mead, then life’s journey is the story. As did Stauss in Ein Heldenleben (1898), the 9th Symphony cites Mahler’s earlier works. But these references, rather than heroic, are invariably ironic. The visceral joy found in the second movement Landler becomes progressively bitter and farcical. The third movement Burlesk reaches an ultimate whirligig of ironic energy. The final movement Adagio initially emulates Bruckner, but becomes increasingly unadorned until it is an empty shell, skeletal, bereft of life. The first movement Andante Comoto summarizes Mahler’s life journey. It is a treatise upon the ebb and flow of human existence, the ups and downs of the body and spirit, an overview of the movements to come.

Familiar with recordings by Walter (two), Szell, Giulini, Bernstein, Dohnanyi, Gielen, Barbirolli and Karajan, I find this new version by Jonathan Nott and The Bamberg Symphony comparable or surpassing those recordings in interpretation and sound quality. Nott reveals a consistently coherent view of the 9th from the opening three notes of Andante Comoto through the terminal hushed string phrases of the final Adagio. He takes great risk with extreme dynamics and tempi to achieve the correct dramatic emphasis . Very fine playing is drawn from The Bambergers. The winds bray and crackle with energy. In the final movement the string section does indeed play stets grossen ton, yet are never strident. They glow throughout the performance.

Tudor’s multichannel SACD recording becomes the ideal vehicle to deliver this magnificent work to the listener. Hall ambience, orchestral placement, depth and balance are magically provided. Only the spontaneity of witnessing the live performance is missing. I cannot praise this recording highly enough. It presents the majesty of the Mahler 9th with near perfection.

-- Ronald Legum


Musicweb-International
Jonathan Nott’s Mahler cycle has now reached the fourth instalment. Recoridngs have already been issued of the First Symphony (see review and review), the Fifth Symphony (see review) and the Fourth (see review). This is the first in the series to come my way.

Before considering the performance I think a few words about the recording itself may be helpful – I listened to these hybrid SACDs as conventional CDs. When I first started listening I thought that the sound appeared almost too close. In fact, I found that my ears soon adjusted as the performance continued and that I didn’t find the closeness to be as much of an issue on further hearings. I suppose the effect is rather akin to sitting just a few rows back from the stage in the concert hall. The orchestra sounds very ‘present’. There certainly seems to be a good spread of sound from one side of the platform, as it were, to the other but I’m less sure that there’s adequate front-to-back perspective. Another feature of the recording is that Nott has divided his violins left and right – of which I heartily approve. However, until the finale, where the strings dominate the scoring for much of the time, I couldn’t hear much of the viola, cello or double bass lines. In fact the strings as a whole are too easily swamped by the wind and brass sections in the first three movements.

For comparison I put on Simon Rattle’s Berliner Philharmoniker recording, which I so much admired in 2008 (see review by Tony Duggan). Here too the recording is fairly close but much more inner string detail is evident. I strongly suspect that the Tudor engineers have used a limited microphone array in an effort to present a truthful concert hall sound image whereas the EMI team have probably used multiple microphones placed within or above the orchestra in order to capture much more detail. I think the Tudor sound does indeed present the sort of sound that you’d hear in a concert hall – and Mahler’s scoring is very often wind- and brass-heavy – and it depends whether you want a recording for home listening to give you a concert hall perspective or whether you want as much detail as possible.

So you might want to sample the recording before purchasing. However, even if the sound is not quite your ideal – and, as I say, my ears adjusted quite quickly – sonic considerations aren’t everything here for Nott leads a fine performance of this magnificent, complex symphony.

He takes a fairly spacious view of I. In fact, at 29:46 his is one of the longest performances I know. Rattle is slightly quicker overall (28:56) but it’s interesting to note that some, though by no means all, conductors of the previous generation have taken less time over this movement. Barbirolli, for example, took 26:53 in his famous EMI Berlin recording, while Kubelik’s live 1975 reading (Audite) took 26:44. The celebrated 1938 Bruno Walter recording flashes by in 24:47. Have Mahler performances broadened over the years?

Nott may be spacious but throughout the movement his control and concentration are impressive. His reading isn’t as passionate as Rattle can be at times; it’s more patient. There were one or two occasions when I thought his speeds were just a little bit too measured but as a whole his reading is impressive. The climaxes are thrust home – at these points one has the impression that the orchestra is playing flat out – but the quiet passages often impress. For example the ghostly passage between 8: 01 and 9:47 is imaginatively presented with lots of good detail – I like the distanced muted horns, for instance. I think it would be fair to say that sometimes the violins sound just a little thin in alt and the string bass line is certainly underpowered – no doubt because one is so used, with many other conductors, to hearing the cellos and basses prominently through the right hand speaker. But, set against that I must say straightaway that much of the playing is vivid, the orchestra’s response is totally committed and there’s a lot of fine solo playing to admire. I have heard more dramatic, angst-ridden accounts of this amazingly rich movement but drama isn’t the whole story by any means and Nott’s account is very convincing and never less than wholly musical. He seems to see the whole movement in one long sweep and I admire his way with it very much.

The two inner movements go very well. There’s a good deal of sharply etched, piquant playing in II. Nott paces the music very well and he judges the many tempo modifications expertly. His reading of III is dynamic and thrusting. He and the engineers bring out a great deal of the teeming contrapuntal detail in the score. The trio (from 5:55) is taken at a suitably relaxed pace. This is nostalgic music but I like the fact that Nott never wallows in the sentiment; on the contrary, forward momentum is nicely maintained – and praise too for the solo trumpeter, whose silvery tone is just right. When the Rondo resumes (10:23) the music is turbulent and exciting right to the last bar.

The strings come into their own in the finale. The opening paragraphs are full-toned but the emotion is not overdone – Nott doesn’t play his cards too soon. The string playing is very good, the tone just weighty enough - and now we do hear a satisfyingly strong bass line. One rather special moment occurs between 4:05 and 4:54 where Nott obtains the most atmospheric playing imaginable from his strings. At this point the bass line is spectral with a wafer-thin violin line on top.

Nott unfolds the finale compellingly and the Bamberg strings and horn section in particular do him proud. Once again, this isn’t perhaps the most overtly emotional reading I’ve heard but the patience – perhaps even a degree of reserve? – brings its own rewards. Nott’s ability to take the long view and to build the movement incrementally means that when we reach the sustained ardent passage that lies at the heart of the movement (14:18 – 17:03) the effect is all the greater. The closing pages of this movement are always a huge test for players and conductor alike. Here the test is passed very successfully. During the last four minutes or so, starting with the second violin entry at 21:07, the music gradually winds down, all passion spent.

This Mahler Ninth is a very fine achievement. A host of great conductors and leading orchestras have essayed this symphony on disc over the years and though the seventeen versions on my own shelves don’t quite go from A to Z they do go from Barbirolli to Walter. This new version can certainly contend with the best of them and it’s one to which I’m sure I shall be returning frequently in the future.

John Quinn


Classics Today Rating: 6/7
There was a time when it was difficult to find a mediocre performance of this symphony, but no longer. Jonathan Nott's interpretation has many personal touches, but they are all of the same type. Briefly, he emphasizes clarity of texture to the point where he loses sight not just of the long musical line, but also of the passionate intensity of Mahler's tragic vision. There are basically two problems with pursuing transparency at all costs. The first, and most serious, concerns the fact that the kind of control that Nott requires means that all of his climaxes sound inhibited. "With the utmost power", Mahler urges at the climax of the first movement, but this is nowhere near what Nott and his players achieve. They are at their best in the quiet moments between the loud bits, where the texture is less complicated--but then anyone can play the game of "bring out the subordinate part".

Similarly, Nott's subdued opening of the finale is very beautiful, its restraint emphasizing the passion simmering below the music's surface. Unfortunately, that is where it stays, and so the contrast between the main theme and those "without expression" interludes fails to tell as it should, and the coda comes across as expressively bland. Nott's handling of the second movement doesn't come close to doing justice to the first dance's rustic clumsiness (the waltz goes much better), and while the opening of the Rondo:Burleske is a marvel of contrapuntal clarity, Nott's obsessive attention to vertical detail quickly lets the music degenerate into a mere mechanical exercise, choppy and unconvincing.

The second problem with Nott's approach is that he's only partially successful at his own game. Again, it's the tuttis that spell his downfall. Where are the horns (with the "bell" motive) at the forte counterstatement of the first movement's opening theme? Where is the trumpet at that theoretical "with the utmost power" climax? There are other misjudgments as well. Nott's handling of transitions is particularly fallible. Check out the lame trumpet and timpani fanfares and stiff accelerando leading into the opening movement's second "collapse" episode, or the awkward return to the Rondo after the calm central episode. And why does Nott accelerate so obviously and so soon before the point where Mahler actually asks him to?

Finally, there are the sonics. It may be that the diffuse engineering accounts to some extent for the lack of impact at the big moments, never mind the balances that favor the strings (not very flatteringly) at the expense of the high brass and woodwinds. But the fact remains that Nott's interpretation signally fails to inspire the players to surpass themselves. So he must take responsibility for their comparative timidity. I have no doubt that they are better at what they do than he is, and could be more impressive if he would simply get out of the way and turn them loose where the music demands it. In short, this performance has all the hallmarks of being carefully rehearsed in many of its less important details, and neglected in the areas that truly matter.

--David Hurwitz

Respighi: Pini di Roma, Fontane di Roma, Feste Romane - Philadelphia Orchestra, Muti

Ottorino Respighi
Pini di Roma, Fontane di Roma, Feste Romane
the Philadelphia Orchestra
Riccardo Muti
EMI- 47316(CD)

Some more late baroque Russian music: the famous "Moscow Triptych": "Pines of Moscow", "Fountains of Moscow", "Moscow Holidays"...or am getting something wrong???

Classics Today Rating: 10/9
This trio of sumptuous orchestral travelogues would seem to be natural candidates for high-definition multi-track recording, but as of this writing it hasn't happened. Until then, we can be grateful to Arkivmusic.com's on-demand CD production for restoring to the catalog one of the best standard digital recordings of Pines, Fountains, and Festivals. Among discs providing all three symphonic poems, Riccardo Muti's 1984 Philadelphia production is at or near the top in all criteria: the performance is passionate and fully Italianate throughout, the orchestra has the special luster that comes with world-class ranking, the wind solos are the most ravishing on disc, and the sound is wide-ranging and natural. Readers should not let the sound's slight tendency to get splashy in the thickly-scored sections prevent enjoyment of this, the best all-around "Roman Trilogy" available.

For those who insist that sound be without reservations, Massimo Freccia's well-regarded 1968 account is superbly remastered on Chesky, and the Philharmonia Orchestra comes close to that elusive world-class quality. Tortelier (Chandos) has stunning sound and is about on a par with Muti, although his version just misses the latter's Italian flair. For top picks for the individual works, see the reference recordings, with this caveat: Avoid Maazel's Sony recordings of Respighi, and if Mata's Dorian stunner reappears, put it on your list. [1/30/2008]

--Joseph Stevenson

Stravinsky: Petrouchka, le Sacre du Printemps - Cleveland Orchestra, Boulez

Igor Stravinsky: Petrouchka, le Sacre du Printemps
the Cleveland Orchestra, Pierre Boulez
Deutsche Grammophon - 435 769-2

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The next masterpieces of the late baroque :-). I've always liked the cover of this CD, with Boulez who wants to tell you: "why don't you just shut up and listen to me?" I did and and am very happy with the results.

Musicweb International (see CD2 concerning this particular CD)

Until reading Stephen Walsh’s excellent biography of Stravinsky, I hadn’t realised quite the involvement there had been between him and Pierre Boulez. This ranged from the uneasy anti-neoclassical stance of the younger composer against Stravinsky and his ally Nadia Boulanger in the early 1950s, their symbiotic relationship across the Atlantic, through and beyond the success of a 1963 celebratory concert of which Pierre Souvtchinsky said of Boulez, “... anyone who starts conducting like that will soon stop composing.” Whatever you think of Boulez as a conductor or composer, what you are getting here are top class recordings from someone who forms a bridge back to the time that Stravinsky, though already an establishment figure, was still a source of debate and controversy amongst members of the creative melting pots in the western world.

This new box set from Deutsche Grammophon brings together all of their Stravinsky recordings directed by Boulez, made over a period of about 15 years between 1980 and 1996, into one slimline package. The chances of your having one, more or all of these discs in your collection is fairly large, so I’ve included the cover art of the originals discs to jog your memory and provide an at-a-glance reference to current stocks. If you keep score, it will soon become clear if purchasing this budget re-issue will be worth your while.

Looking through my own collection, I know there are lamentably few of these classic discs in residence. I would normally plead poverty, and in this regard can join in with the celebrations that go with seeing the arrival of this new budget collection. My main reason for coming fresh to most of these recordings is however that they have long been overtaken by other labels that offer similar quality at bargain price, and the need for them has been diminishing on fairly constant downward curve over the decades since they were first released. The Naxos Robert Craft edition for instance, which has drawn on the Koch and MusicMasters labels’ back catalogue as well as producing their own frequently magnificent recordings of this repertoire. Boulez’s own 1969 recording of the Symphony of Psalms still competes with the DG version in its Sony incarnation, and my own principal reference has more often than not been Sony’s formerly expensive and coveted Complete Edition, now available in a big bargain box which may not always deliver the utmost in refinement, but invariably delivers a flavour of the times from which the music originates, and often exceeds expectations in terms of quality given the vintage of some of the recordings. Coming to these Boulez recordings more or less fresh and finding them all at once jostling for attention in the lowlier budget sections, we can brush off their perceived elevated value and status, and judge them with their new 21st century face.

Interpretative aspects aside, what you are guaranteed with these recordings is top class playing, and Boulez’s famously intense and critical ear for intonation and detail. DG’s recordings are all pretty stunning as well. This account of The Firebird may not be the most atmospheric or exotic on record, but each moment carries the emotional weight communicated by performers who are giving their all - within strictly given parameters of refinement of course. Boulez manages to strike a balance with the segmented nature of the score, which actually suits his sense of accuracy and ability to stop and turn on a dime, along with a sense of the wide balletic arc which is also a strength of the piece as a concert work. The emotional focus reaches its climax with that Infernal Dance, which is of demonstration quality on this recording, followed immediately by the dolorous Berceuse. The sense of dark and light is presented powerfully, bittersweet sonorities dragging the warmer orchestrational style of Rimsky-Korsakov into the colder light of a revolutionary period in which social and political turmoil were constantly close at hand. This is a work Stravinsky himself conducted regularly, and his 1961 CBC Symphony Orchestra recording shows how a much more secretive atmosphere can be created in this music, how much greater the quicksilver extremes of wit and dagger-sharp violence can be conjured. Boulez is good, but not great in this regard, a worthy but overdone feeling of technical security hanging over a piece which should create a sense of passion and danger.

Another early work, the coupling with Fireworks is a logical one, and the orchestral dynamic and colour is magnificent in Boulez’s recording. Stravinsky comes in a few seconds under Boulez’s timing, creating a more desperately urgent feel of energy and spark, but with the brass sometimes barely coping with its swings and roundabouts. With the greater modernity of Quatre Études Boulez is in his element, certainly more so than the CBC players in 1962, who perform well but with an air of cautiousness, feeling their way from section to section. Familiarity with Stravinsky’s sonorities and rhythmic idiom create a greater space for Boulez to develop this music’s expressive qualities as well as its modernist if still ritualistic impact, resulting in a very fine recording indeed.

CD 2 brings us to two works which, if you haven’t heard them, you really need to consider having your musical world altered significantly by taking them into your experience. Both of these works are central to the 20th century’s orchestral canon, and Pétrouchka has left its stamp on a wide range of music since its composition, including some of Tom and Jerry’s best soundtracks. Le Sacre du printemps created a riot on its first performance, and like Picasso’s Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, helped push the world of the arts kicking and screaming into the hot and bloody machinery of the 20th century. Boulez once again gives us such a focus of accuracy that, familiar with the pieces, one can have a real sense of vertigo, gazing into each musical moment with both microscopic detail and a grand feel of scale and occasion. The burlesque of Pétrouchka is portrayed in an almost cinematically spectacular style in this recording, and the music responds well to such a succulently delicious recording. Rawness and energy characterise Stravinsky’s own 1960 recording, and if you can live with a less refined orchestra and occasionally slightly overloaded old analogue tape - congested rather than distorting - then the old original will probably impress just as much. There are some marvellously luminous benefits from modern technology of course. That glorious Shrovetide Fair rarely sounded so good, and as ever The Cleveland Orchestra displays its sheer class at every turn of the page. This recording of Le Sacre du printemps under Boulez has been criticised in the past for its rather leisurely tempi, and once again that undertow of threat and danger which makes this music so potent is more of a latent undertone than a direct assault on the senses. Boulez does have an authentic sense of the elemental however, and as with The Firebird builds his performance with a wider sense of architecture, saving the main impact of the musical message for true climaxes. This makes Stravinsky’s 1960 Columbia Symphony experience a good deal more gritty and intense from start to finish, but doesn’t mean that Boulez can’t pack a punch when the score demands. The question is one of believability - of conviction that you can imagine all those primeval rituals and games, or someone literally dancing themselves to death. The sheer genius of the score will always bring a tear to my eye, and does in both cases. With Stravinsky’s old recording I still however have that sense of surprise, the feeling that things might go off the rails and end differently to the last time I listened. It’s like that story of the book which never tells the same tale twice, though you can’t exactly put your finger on where the narrative alters course and brings you to a disconcertingly different place each time. Boulez has more that feel of an established pattern, of a tradition which has grown around the music, teaching us what to expect, giving us that ‘wow’ factor but never quite tearing out our own inner fears and shaking them in front of our terrified faces in a fist full of mud and sweat. It’s a personal thing I suspect, and this is still a tremendous performance and very much worth having, but the elation at having survived beyond the end of the performance is still very much Stravinsky’s own reward to us.
Re-discovering great music is one of the true benefits of reviewing, and disc 3 of this set is a genuine highlight. The programme is a bit of a mixture, but this is one of Stravinsky’s characteristics, eclectic and extreme, but instantly recognisable. With no criticism of what is an as good as perfect disc, there is just room for a few agreeable comments. The Scherzo fantastique is a brilliant youthful work, full of shimmer and shine, and this is just the way Boulez presents it - energetic and lively, effervescent, out to impress but with a romantic core which harks back to earlier times. Le Roi des étoiles is a strange and tricky piece to bring off well, the intonation of the male voices in the major/minor tonalities sounding strange even when pitched well as they are here. The sonorities are deep and affecting in this recording, and I for one hear things that must have had their effect on Olivier Messiaen. This is one of those pieces which resonates for far longer than its brief duration, and this performance rivals all comers. Le Chant du Rossignol is a blockbuster symphonic poem, and to my mind Boulez gets the balance of impact and subtle detail exactly right. Just hear the interaction of winds and those gorgeous solos, the touches of colour in the string sound, all helped with a width of spectrum in the recorded sound which is almost obscenely eloquent. L’Histoire du Soldat in its concert-suite form still breathes both a swanky jazziness and the crisp Swiss mountain air in which it was written. Boulez has this music so well under his skin that it flows with almost careless effortlessness. Such an effect is the result of meticulous preparation, but with an absolute trust in his musicians one can sense relaxed enjoyment as well as a fascinatingly intense sense of narrative. The clarinet and bassoon duo which opens and closes the Pastorale suspends time, and the deceptive simplicity in the music is carried with supremely appropriate expression, shape and sheer fun by all of the musicians involved - dig that bass as well in the final Marche triomphale du Diable - phwoaar.

Boulez: waving, or drowning? It’s a shame we lose that striking cover design with this kind of re-issue, but you can’t have everything. CD 4 is entirely symphonic, though with Stravinsky it is rarely to be expected that even the conventionally titled should follow convention. The Symphonies d’instruments à vent does what it says on the tin, the word ‘symphony’ in this case more strongly associated with its original Greek derivation, meaning a ‘concord’ or ‘harmoniousness of sound’. Strangely, Boulez again sounds slow, though his 9:16 timing barely differs from Stravinsky’s own at 9:10. Perhaps my memory is playing tricks, but I seem to recall a great deal more energy and colour from Charles Dutoit with his Montreal forces on Decca. This is a fine performance, but didn’t stir me as I might have hoped. The Symphonie de psaumes is one of the last century’s true masterpieces, combining Stravinsky’s fascination with antique contrapuntal techniques, his religious faith and sheer sense of vision. This is one of the pieces Robert Craft has conducted very effectively, available on Naxos 8.557504. Neither versions will disappoint, nor do they differ in particularly significant ways. With a marginally warmer choral sound and the Berlin Philharmonic as a rock-solid platform over which the singers can flourish I would however pick the Boulez over Craft’s recording, though I do like the way Craft allows the horns and other brass to whoop in the final Alleluia movement. The Symphony in Three Movements is a piece I used to like best on the swinging recording James Conlon made with the Rotterdam Philharmonic on the Erato label. I don’t see this available anywhere now which is a shame, but Boulez does bring us a highly effective performance. Once again, 1961 Stravinsky himself undercuts Boulez in terms of timings, particularly in the first movement at 9:23 to Boulez at 9:56. Half a minute may not seem much, but in terms of sheer visceral excitement it is very telling, and switching back to Boulez after Stravinsky and the former does seem rather leaden-footed. The second movement Andante is also rather over-intellectualised in my book, orbiting at a mythological 6:37 to Stravinsky’s more earth-bound 5:59. As you might expect, we get fine playing and gorgeous sound on DG, and there are some striking moments such as those low clarinets 1:50 into the final Con moto, the best of the three movements from Boulez in any case. This is however not really a piece to which one should be able to put up slippered feet, and I didn’t find myself climbing the walls and frightening the cat in throes of appreciative ecstasy with this one.

The cover here is the coupling with the Alban Berg Chamber Concerto, but is where the majority of the pieces on CD 5 of this set were to be found in the past. This is one disc I have lived with for many years, and is another case in which I feel the Boulez/Stravinsky combination works best. Filled with masses of striking colours and little instrumental touches which are hidden in many other recordings, the plucked strings and nervy percussion of the Ebony Concerto are clear and present in this marvellous recording, and the energy and vibe which go with it make this one of my all-time favourite recordings of this stunning piece. The Ensemble Intercontemporain and the recording location, advanced electronic music laboratory IRCAM are both very much Boulez’s babies, and marvellous solos make this something of a showcase for clarinettists Michel Arrignon in the Ebony Concerto and Alain Damiens in a superb performance of the Three Pieces, and including an eloquently moving Élégie from viola player Gérard Causse. Fine, lively playing also characterises the Eight Instrumental Miniatures and the Concertino for string quartet, its rhythms reminding one of part of the Symphonies of Wind Instruments - logically, as it was the work Stravinsky wrote immediately preceding the latter. This is given a suitably hard-driven and biting performance by the players here. The Concerto in E flat major for Chamber Orchestra better known as‘Dumbarton Oaks’ is taken more briskly by Stravinsky in his 1964 recording, but here it is the composer who lacks the advantage, sounding a bit rushed, as if he had a flight to catch after the session. Boulez benefits from a more open sound, and provides the music with more ample space in which to develop its intricacies of counterpoint and playfulness of thematic treatment. Late serial works by a Stravinsky exploring atonality and engaging with the avant-garde, the Ensemble Intercontemporain players’ supreme accuracy in the miniature Epitaphium and Double Canon are exemplary.

Now thirty years old, this recording of Stravinsky’s vocal music brings us some of his most tender musical moments. Unlike more demanding pieces such as Les Noces, many of the songs here are early works and most are little gems. All of the soloists are of the very highest quality and all at the top of their game. If you don’t know Stravinsky’s songs, the youthful vocalise Pastorale introduces us very gently indeed. Highlights are a personal choice, but the pointillist morsels which are the Trois Poésies de la lyrique japonaise are breathtaking musical moments. Stravinsky in pictorial mood can be enjoyed to the full in the birds which inhabit the Three Little Songs, and the confluence of urbane French and stern Russian idioms is rarely closer than in some moments of Pribaoutki. Even cycles with more modernistic elements such as the Berceuses du chat and Four Songs are filled with delightfully descriptive wit, and Stravinsky’s restless search for new combinations of sonority in his instrumental accompaniments is a voyage of discovery in itself. Two versions of Tilim-bom back to back, the first with flute and plucked strings and the second with chamber orchestra including timpani, illustrate this perfectly. The final tracks reach into Stravinsky’s later period, exploring regions atonal, but maintaining sympathetically idiomatic vocal writing, eschewing extremes of angularity in the expressive Three Songs from William Shakespeare. Two of the pieces which mourn the loss of two prominent figures who appeared briefly in Stravinsky’s life are given beautiful performances here, the instrumental ensemble’s restrained accompaniment a counterpoint to the Elegy for J.F.K., and Dylan Thomas’s text “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night”. Stravinsky re-instrumentated Bach and others constantly during his lifetime, and the Two Sacred Songs which close this disc are beautifully crafted arrangements of songs for Hugo Wolf’s Spanisches Liederbuch.

Competition for this box from the conductor himself exists in the Sony Boulez Edition, but this only contains two discs of Stravinsky including The Rite of Spring, Petrouchka and suites The Firebird and Pulchinella. In general terms and taken as a whole, this 6 CD box has to be seen as a bargain, and a fine place to discover some of the most important music of the 20th century. The low price is reflected in the presentation however, and it is a shame that the original booklet notes for each disc have been replaced with an essay, ‘Nothing Stays the Same’ by Wolfgang Stähr which, while throwing some light on Boulez’s shifting attitude to Stravinsky’s music and status, is generalised and by its nature subjective. While I find myself left cold by Boulez’s conducting of a few of these pieces, taken in isolation they do create their own atmosphere and will certainly grab newcomers with an impressively powerful grip. There are no weak performances here, just others to be found which whip up a greater sense of danger and excitement. This is the best of times to treat yourself or a favoured friend or relative to some top-notch music, and this little box contains marvels enough for all.

Dominy Clements

Strauss: Metamorphosen, Tod und Verklaerung - Berliner Philharmoniker, Karajan

Richard Strauss
Metamorphosen, Tod und Verklaerung
Berliner Philharmoniker, Herbert von Karajan
Deutsche Grammophon- 410 892-2

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Metamorphosen is, to me, Strauss's greatest orchestral masterpiece. A requiem to western civilization and to western music. The end of an entire world. No review for this one but, if you decide to trust me only once, do it this time.

Hindemith: Mathis der Mahler, Symphonische Metamorphosen, Trauermusik - S. Francisco Symph., Blomstedt

Paul Hindemith
Mathis der Mahler, Symphonic Metamorphosis, *Trauermusik
San Francisco Symphony Orchestra
Herbert Blomstedt, San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, *Geraldine Walther (viola)
Decca 421 523 2 DH

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Some of the most famous works of one of the most neglected among the great composers.

Classics Today Rating (for the set of 3 CD's with Hindemith's symphonic works): 9/9

Much great music making happened in San Francisco well before Michael Tilson Thomas arrived on the scene. Herbert Blomstedt's individual discs of Hindemith's major orchestral works were among the highlights of his decade-long, highly musical tenure there (along with his Nielsen and Strauss), a trend that continued on his arrival in Leipzig. After a brief stint in the all-too-familiar "now out-of-print" category, these performances have made their much deserved reappearance on this handy-dandy Trio set. Can better recordings of some of the individual works be had? Perhaps, but certainly not by much. San Francisco's illustrious brass section gets put through its paces to maximum effect in the glorious Konzertmusik, as well as in the "Alleluia" brass chorale coda to the Temptation of St. Anthony (Mathis der Maler).

The nearly Concertgebouw-like acoustics of the Gewandhaus help to clarify the dense and busy textures of Hindemith's over-the-top Die Harmonie der Welt (with the equally super-sounding Leipzig orchestra), a work that certainly deserves and rewards repeated listening. And speaking of deserving works, the almost completely unknown yet sunny Symphonia Serena earns the attention of even the most novice listeners, as well those suffering from modern-music-phobia--it's that good. Viola fans will receive quite a treat from super-virtuoso Geraldine Walther on Der Schwanendreher, Hindemith's somewhat subdued yet attractive viola concerto. It's hard to imagine that a better performance of it is even possible, and Decca's sound quality is top-notch throughout. In sum, this is a hugely satisfying set: great works, great conducting, great playing. Yes, it's just that simple.

--Barry Guerrero

Franck: Symphony in D Min./ Chausson: Symphony Op.20 - Janowski, Orch. de la Suisse Romande

Cesar Franck
Symphony in D Minor
Ernest Chausson
Symphony in B-flat, Op.20
Orchestre de la Suisse Romande
Marek Janowski
Pentatone Classics PTC5186078

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The Franck Symphony was one of my adolescent loves. I listened to it over and again in the school music room. The performance which fixed the work into my consciousness was contained in a Readers’ Digest album and was conducted by Sir Adrian Boult. As I grew up, if that’s what one really does, the work tended to lose its freshness. But I also came to feel that none of the performances I heard captured the same conviction and ardour as that Boult performance, no longer accessible to me. They seemed slow and heavy, Germanic and often lost their way amidst the meandering structures. Or was I just seeing the past through rose-tinted spectacles? I missed an RCA issue of the performance on LP but picked it up many years later on Chesky. It was also included in the Boult volume of “Great Conductors of the 20th Century” (7243 5 75459 2 1). Hearing it again rekindled my love of the symphony.

I have since read that as a young man Boult had heard Franck’s pupil Pierné conduct the symphony and modelled his own reading on that performance, so his Franck can claim authenticity no less than his Elgar. I know of two other conductors who took a similarly virile, impassioned view: Toscanini and Mario Rossi. Toscanini may have heard Pierné, too, but he was unlikely to model himself on anybody and presumably worked out from the score that this was how it should go. I imagine Rossi was well acquainted with Toscanini’s interpretation. I have also found much to appreciate in Munch’s recording. This is a little broader and freer, perhaps less structurally sound, but it also has much of his inimitable verve and the unmistakably French sound of the Boston orchestra.

Having encountered Janowski previously only in a thoroughly German-sounding Brahms cycle I feared something heavy and Teutonic. I got quite a surprise. After an expectant, mobile opening the following tremolando string passages move forward strongly, with flexible paragraph-shaping and an acute sense of orchestral colour. In the Allegro sections Janowski is closer to Munch than Boult in his wider range of tempi, yet his control of the structure is magnificent. No less than Boult, he succeeds in making each climax more overwhelming than the last, rising to a triumphant conclusion.

The Allegretto is again fairly mobile – not so much as to rob the famous cor anglais melody of its grave charm, but enough to give a certain volatility to the scherzo sections Franck has built into the movement. The Finale is a notable success. Janowski is a shade broader than Boult and succeeds in welding the whole into a developing argument. He never gets stuck, even when the second movement melody is recalled. The moment where this theme comes back as a thumping climax rung out on the trumpet has embarrassed some commentators. Boult is terrific here; he takes it at face value, letting the trumpet play his heart out with a rallentando at the end. Janowski skilfully integrates it into the general flow – an original and effective solution. Incidentally, Janowski takes one second (!) longer than Boult over the symphony, though in detail he is a little faster in the first two movements and a little slower in the last. Munch takes slightly longer over all three.

The Boult recording sounds extraordinarily well for 1959, but it is nearly fifty years old and there is no doubt that the new SACD recording - which I heard as a plain CD - has added depth, range and detail. Janowski also shares with Munch a very French-sounding orchestra, with wonderful braying brass. The Suisse Romande has had a number of conductors since Ansermet who were not exactly cultivators of the French sound – Sawallisch for example – so it’s heartening to hear that they can still produce these timbres when required.

I shall no more jettison Boult than I shall abandon hearth and home, but for those who have no sentimental attachment to it, or who wish to have superb modern sound, or who find it easier to relate to living artists, I’m delighted to be able to recommend a version of this much maligned and often maltreated work that matches the great versions of the past. It’ll be a toss-up whether I get out this or Boult myself for future listening.

The Franck Symphony made an enormous impression on French musicians and spawned a number of imitations, of which Chausson’s – of just two years later – is generally considered the most important. Some have even rated it above the Franck, though I find its themes lack the sheer “stickability” which Franck attained in every one of his themes in his Symphony. In a sense more subtle, it is also more cluttered. But this is not to deny that it can still offer both excitement and magic. Moreover, Chausson is very much his own man. Though it’s a cyclical work in three movements, like the Franck, it has none of the latter’s religious fervour, combining hedonism, Hellenism and sultry decadence in fairly equal proportions. And, while many a lesser work opens with a wonderful surge of inspiration that gradually peters out, Chausson reserves his finest cards for the end. Janowski plays it with total conviction, mixing the colours with a sure hand and never letting it get sticky.

I’m sorry I didn’t have the Ansermet versions of these works to hand, to compare the orchestra then and now, but I think the great Swiss maestro would have been proud of his old band.

Christopher Howell

Hagen: Sonate à liuto solo - Robert Barto

In Bernhard Joachim Hagen [1720–1787] we find a worthy exponent of the lute in its last days. His music is full of surprises. At times moving, spirited, brilliant or humorous, it is always elegant and expertly crafted. Although the occasional lute piece is still found into the beginning of the 19th century, Hagen's works are the last substantial contributions to the lute repertoire. He can truly be called the last great lute virtuoso.
Robert Barto (from the album notes)

Although Hagen was employed at the Bayreuth court as a violinist, he was a virtuoso lute performer and his respectable output of compositions for the instrument includes those on this recording plus a number of chamber works and concertos. When I heard the opening of the first piece, the Sonata in B-flat major, I knew I'd heard it before somewhere. I still don't know where, but Hagen's music has that effect: it's so easy to listen to, so perfectly proportioned and harmonically well-developed, that it sounds familiar--the musical equivalent of a pair of shoes that fit the first time you try them on. The Locatelli Variations are Hagen's own transcription of some selections from a piece for violin written by the Italian master, with an additional original variation by Hagen. Lutenist Robert Barto really captures the style of this ardent, graceful, often eloquent music. His technique, his richly resonant instrument, and the fine sound engineering bring clarity to the melodic lines and a glowing warmth to the lower registers, while allowing the top notes to ring.
David Vernier, ClassicsToday

Barto plays an Andrew Rutherford lute (1988, after Jauck)
Symphonia SY98164 (1999) out of print