Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra
64 products
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Bartók: Bluebeard's Castle / Relyea, DeYoung, Gardner, Bergen Philharmonic
Chandos · Sep 2019SACD$21.99 -
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Johan Svendsen: Orchestra Works, Vol. 3 / Jarvi, Thorsen, Bergen Philharmonic
Chandos · Apr 2013CD$21.99 -
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SaleBerio: Orchestral Realisations - Schubert, Mahler, Brahms / Gardner, Bergen Philharmonic
Chandos · Feb 2012CD$21.99$10.99 -
Bruch: Violin Concerto No 1, Romanze, String Quintet / Gluzman, Litton, Bergen PO
BIS · Mar 2011SACD$21.99 -
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Holst: The Planets - Elgar: Enigma Variations / Litton, Bergen Philharmonic
BIS · Jul 2019SACD$21.99 -
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Rachmaninov: Symphony No. 2 - Liadov: The Enchanted Lake / Litton, Bergen Philharmonic
BIS · Nov 2015SACD$21.99 -
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Schoenberg: Erwartung & Pelleas und Melisande /Jakubiak, Gardner, Bergen Philharmonic
Chandos · May 2020SACD$21.99 -
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Gershwin: Rhapsody In Blue, Piano Concerto In F, Second Rhapsody / Litton, Kempf, Bergen Philharmonic
BIS · Jun 2012SACD$21.99 -
Bartók: Bluebeard's Castle / Relyea, DeYoung, Gardner, Bergen Philharmonic
Following acclaimed performances around the globe, John Relyea’s interpretation of Duke Bluebeard now appears on record, with Michelle DeYoung as Judit and Edward Gardner leading his Bergen forces with aplomb. John Relyea continues to distinguish himself as one of today's finest basses. Mr. Relyea has appeared in many of the world’s most celebrated opera houses including the Metropolitan Opera, San Francisco Opera (where he is an alumnus of the Merola Opera Program and a former Adler Fellow), Lyric Opera of Chicago, Seattle Opera, Canadian Opera Company, Royal Opera House Covent Garden, Paris Opera, Bayerische Staatsoper, Vienna State Opera, Theater an der Wien, and the Mariinsky Theater.
Schoenberg: Gurre-Lieder / Gardner, Bergen Philharmonic
Recorded live on SACD in the sumptuous acoustic of Grieghallen in Bergen, this mind-blowing interpretation of Schoenberg’s Gurre-Lieder involves 350 performers: large choral forces, six exceptional soloists, and the legendary Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra- extended for the occasion- all conducted by Edward Gardner. Marking the pinnacle of the Orchestra’s 250th anniversary celebrations, the same forces offered two evening concerts that met with unanimous acclaim in the press, including a five-star review from The Daily Telegraph praising the ‘sweep of Gardner’s conducting, by turns luminous and incisive.’ It added, ‘He unleashed the piece’s volcanic passions while never becoming mired in its high-calorific density, and somehow avoided drowning the singers’, and also congratulated the ‘heroic’ Stuart Skelton, ‘warm’ Alwyn Mellor, ‘ethereal’ Anna Larsson, and ‘powerful’ Thomas Allen.
Halvorsen: Orchestral Works, Vol. 4 / Jarvi, Bergen Philharmonic
Based on the Passacaille (Chaconne) from the Harpsichord Suite No. 7 in G minor by Handel, Halvorsen’s Passacaglia is a virtuosic duo for solo violin and viola, later made world famous by artists such as Leopold Auer and Jascha Heifetz. It starts as a simple arrangement of Handel’s original score, but after the presentation of the theme and the first three variations it gradually differs more and more, until it finally frees itself entirely from the original and becomes pure ‘Halvorsen’.
Halvorsen wrote extensively for the stage, and his lifelong fascination with ‘exotic’ elements in music is evident in the ‘Dance Scene’ from the incidental music to Knut Hamsun’s Queen Tamara, a historical play set in the Caucasus. In contrast, the Symphonic Intermezzo from the music to Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson’s The King is presented in the form of a tone poem, its language strongly influenced by the musical universe of Liszt and Wagner.
Also on this disc is Halvorsen’s orchestration of Grieg’s piano piece Norwegian Bridal Procession. Other orchestral versions exist, among others by Frederick Delius, but in Grieg’s eyes only a native Norwegian could portray rural Norway in music without becoming too romantic or picturesque. Halvorsen’s lush, but non-idealising orchestration proved an immediate success, and at concerts and in the theatre over the next twenty-six years Halvorsen conducted the work at least 140 times.
He considered his Norwegian Fairy Tale Pictures to be one of his best works. The suite is vividly programmatic, drawn from music that he had written for a children’s comedy: violins portray the fairy tale hero, the flute plays the part of the abducted princess, while the villainous troll is represented by a motif in the bass.
Tchaikovsky: Swan Lake / Jarvi, Bergen
As has been noted in previous reviews of recordings of Tchaikovsky’s “complete” Swan Lake , there may well be as many different versions of the score as there have been productions of it. The problem is that Swan Lake is both the earliest (1875–1876) and the longest of the composer’s three great ballets, and it has had so many cooks adding their own ingredients, removing others, and generally revising the recipe that no one can say for sure what made up the original soufflé.
The generally known and accepted facts are these: The ballet, with original choreography by Julius Reisinger, was staged for the first time in February, 1877 by the Bolshoi Ballet at Moscow’s Bolshoi Theater. It was not well received; audience and critics alike felt it was too long and convoluted, its music too heavy, and its libretto, adapted from a story by a German author, an affront to Russian sensibilities. And thus began the tinkering and tampering. By the time the work was revived in 1895 by the Imperial Ballet at St. Petersburg’s Mariinsky Theater there was new choreography by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov, along with major musical revisions to the score by the Imperial Theater’s conductor and composer, Riccardo Drigo. It should be noted that by the time of the 1895 revival, Tchaikovsky was dead and had no hand in the new performing version. Tchaikovsky and Drigo had worked together previously, but according to accounts, they didn’t agree on much of anything and their relationship was strained.
The upshot of all this is that there is no definitive Swan Lake . It was no longer a ballet by one composer, but rather a group effort; and you know the saying about a camel being a horse designed by a committee. It’s important to bear this in mind when considering the various recordings of Swan Lake that claim to be complete, for the drastic differences in timings cannot be explained by mere tempo differences alone. There have to be other factors involved, such as omission of some movements, cuts to others, and/or reliance on differing versions/editions. Let’s look at the timings of several well-known recordings, sorted in order by duration.
| Conductor | Orchestra | Label | Timing |
| Valery Gergiev | St. Petersburg Mariinsky O | Decca | 106.59 |
| Antál Dorati | Minneapolis SO | Mercury | 131:41 |
| Felix Slatkin | St. Louis SO | RCA | 141:00 |
| Mikhail Pletnev | Russian National O | Ondine | 142.52 |
| Dmitri Yablonsky | Russian State SO | Naxos | 148:38 |
| Michael Tilson Thomas | London SO | Sony | 149:05 |
| Mark Ermler | Royal Opera House O | Conifer | 153.03 |
| André Previn | London SO | EMI | 153:02 |
| Charles Dutoit | Montréal SO | Decca | 153:56 |
| Neeme Järvi | Bergen PO | Chandos | 154:41 |
| Wolfgang Sawallisch | Philadelphia O | EMI | 158:45 |
Right off the bat, I need to offer a disclaimer: My personal familiarity with the above-listed recordings is limited to only four of them—Gergiev, Pletnev, Yablonsky, and now this new one by Järvi. Of the four, Gergiev’s version is the worst in terms of the hatchet job it does on the score. Movements are reordered—for example, the act I Waltz has been moved to act III and its ending abridged—and it’s full of egregious cuts—some 40 minutes of music are sacrificed. Gergiev’s Swan Lake is presumptively based on the Mariinsky performing version; i.e., the above-mentioned Drigo edition prepared for the 1895 St. Petersburg revival.
Looking at Pletnev’s timing of 142:52 vs. Yablonsky’s 148:58 and Järvi’s 154:41, it seems pretty obvious that that while tempo differences over the course of two and a half hours could account for the difference of approximately six minutes between Pletnev and Yablonsky and, in turn, between Yablonsky and Järvi, they’re unlikely to be the cause of the approximately 12-minute difference between Pletnev and Järvi.
Upon closer examination of all three recordings, what I found was that Yablonsky and Järvi both include two often dropped numbers from act III, the Pas de deux that was written after the fact specifically for Anna Sobeshchanskaya, and the “Danse Russe,” added specifically for Pelageya Karpakova. Pletnev omits these two additions, as do a number of others. Whether they should be included or not is a rather complex question.
Ballerinas of the day were not much different from their opera diva counterparts in terms of their egos. They had no shame when it came to demanding custom cadenzas to show off their voices or, in the case of danseuses, their fancy footwork and frilly tutus. The story surrounding Sobeshchanskaya and her Pas de deux is especially messy and borders on scandal. Originally picked to dance the lead role of Odette (the Swan) for the 1877 premiere, Sobeshchanskaya was ignominiously dropped from the cast at the last minute when a high-placed government official with whom she’d had a dalliance accused her of having taken expensive jewelry from him and then pawned it when she married a fellow danseur. On the spur of the moment, she was replaced by Pelageya Karpakova. Sobeshchanskaya survived the indignity and went on to dance the title role when the ballet was staged again a month later with no greater success than at its premiere.
But the intrigue didn’t end there. The ballerina made no bones about the fact that she hated both the choreography and the music, and so off she went to St. Petersburg, where she engaged Petipa to choreograph a new Pas de deux for her that would replace the third act’s Grand pas. Petipa complied and choreographed the new number to music, not by Tchaikovsky, but by Ludwig Minkus, the Imperial Ballet’s composer in residence.
When news of this change reached Tchaikovsky, he was miffed; his ego was probably bigger than Sobeshchanskaya’s. How dare she?! He was the composer, and he alone should take credit (or discredit) for the music. After some smoothing of his ruffled feathers, Tchaikovsky agreed to compose the music himself for Petipa’s new Pas de deux , but there was a problem. Tchaikovsky’s new music didn’t synch up with Petipa’s choreography, and Sobeshchanskaya, now back in Moscow, wasn’t about to travel back to St. Petersburg to go through the whole exercise again. She didn’t seem to care much one way or the other about the music, but she was adamant about keeping Petipa’s choreographed number. How exactly Tchaikovsky was prevailed upon to discard his newly composed music and essentially start over, this time following the outlines and rhythmic steps of Minkus’s music is not explained, but that’s what Tchaikovsky did. So, this particular episode apparently had a satisfactory ending for all involved, except, I suspect, for Minkus who surely must have felt put out. The original Grand pas with music by Tchaikovsky was replaced by Sobeshchanskaya’s Pas de deux with music first by Minkus and then by Tchaikovsky.
Based on the foregoing, it would seem that there is every reason to include this number in complete performances of the ballet, yet many conductors, Pletnev among them, don’t. The situation regarding the “Danse Russe” (Russian Dance) is much simpler and appears to be the reverse; it’s one of deletion rather than addition. It was composed for and included in the original 1877 version of the score danced by Karpakova, the premiere’s last-minute substitute for Sobeshchanskaya. The number was then removed for subsequent performances in which Sobeshchanskaya took over the role, for reasons one can easily guess. If two competing sopranos could bitch-slap each other on stage during a production of a Handel opera, there was no telling what professional jealousy might provoke between two rival ballerinas.
This describes only some of the butchery that turned Tchaikovsky’s finely feathered swan into a plucked chicken. It’s well to remember, however, that Swan Lake was not only the composer’s first completed ballet, it was really his first major stage undertaking to survive the ravages of time, even if not entirely intact. He was working on his opera Eugene Onegin at the same time, his first opera to achieve success; and though there had been earlier operatic efforts— The Voyevoda, Undina, The Oprichnik , and Vakula the Smith —they were either destroyed by the composer, recycled, later revised, or didn’t stir much interest at the time. Thus, at 37, Tchaikovsky’s greatest works still lay ahead of him, and he had yet to achieve the self-confidence that fame would bring him to be able to just say no to those who would mess with his music.
Neeme Järvi’s Swan Lake follows his Sleeping Beauty , reviewed in 36:5. I would expect to see a Nutcracker in the near future, perhaps timed to coincide with Christmas (I’m writing this in November 2013). My only objection to Järvi’s Sleeping Beauty was his somewhat business-like approach, which struck me as missing some of the music’s fairy magic. But the Bergen Philharmonic’s polished playing, James Ehnes’s ravishing violin solos, and Chandos’s thrilling multi-channel SACD recording offered much allure.
On relistening to that release, and in listening to this present one, in which Järvi, Ehnes, the Bergen orchestra, and Chandos repeat their earlier accomplishment, it occurred to me that my criticism of Järvi wasn’t entirely fair. There are two ways to conduct a ballet performance for a strictly audio recording. You can approach it as a concert work, in which case you will tend to emphasize the melodic, harmonic, and structural elements of the score, or you can approach it as a suite of dances, in which case you will emphasize the music’s rhythmic and terpsichorean aspects. Järvi falls into the former camp, and there’s nothing wrong in that, as long as he’s not directing a live production of the actual ballet, in which tempo, pacing, and phrasing need to be molded more flexibly to accommodate the movements of the dancers.
I can’t say absolutely that this is the most authoritatively complete Swan Lake on record, though in taking up the original 1877 score and including additional material supplied by Tchaikovsky himself for subsequent performances, Järvi gives us a version that’s certainly more complete than are a number of others. What I can say is that of the four recordings of the score with which I’m familiar, Järvi’s would now be my first choice, and taking all other factors into account—superb playing by the Bergen Philharmonic, James Ehnes’s beguiling solo violin contributions, and a killer recording—I’d extrapolate from this that Järvi’s Swan Lake is now the one to have.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Johan Svendsen: Orchestra Works, Vol. 3 / Jarvi, Thorsen, Bergen Philharmonic
SVENDSEN Norwegian Artists’ Carnival, Op. 14. Violin Concerto in A, Op. 61. Two Icelandic Melodies. Symphony No. 1 in D, Op. 4 • Neeme Järvi, cond; 1Marianne Thorsen (vn); Bergen PO • CHANDOS 10766 (74:10)
This is Volume 3 in a series of discs devoted to the orchestral works of a composer who, it’s believed, composed no more than 33 works with opus numbers, of which approximately 21 are orchestral scores, if you count the cantatas for chorus and orchestra. If you don’t count them, then the four works included on this latest installment, added to the 10 included on Volume 1 (see Fanfare 35:5), plus the four included on Volume 2 (Fanfare 36:4), should wrap up this survey, but with Neeme Järvi you never know.
The famous anecdote of the volatile relationship between Svendsen and his American wife ending with her tossing her husband’s manuscript of a Third Symphony into the fire is probably fictional, but it makes for colorful reading. Sketches, however, for what was probably on its way to becoming another symphony were expanded and orchestrated by Norwegian composer Bjørn Morten Christophersen and premiered by the Bergen Philharmonic as recently as 2011. Perhaps in a follow-up album, Järvi will give us Christophersen’s speculative score.
Meanwhile, what we have on the present disc are Svendsen’s First Symphony and a very ambitious Violin Concerto, plus the shorter programmatic pieces, Norwegian Artist’s Carnival and Two Icelandic Melodies. Svendsen is what I would characterize as a Scandinavian generalist. Like his close contemporaries, Grieg and Danish composer C. F. E. Horneman, Svendsen was yet another product of the Leipzig Conservatory, studying violin with Ferdinand David (of Mendelssohn Violin Concerto fame) and composition with Carl Reinecke. But Svendsen’s works that bear national or folkloristic titles, like Norwegian Artist’s Carnival, don’t sound Norwegian the way Grieg’s music does. In fact, in both style and content, there’s little difference between the boisterous, celebratory, dance-like character of the symphony and the Carnival; and listening to the Two Icelandic Melodies, I’m not sure you would know if you were in Iceland or Finland—there’s a hint of Sibelius in the air.
The violin concerto betrays Svendsen’s training as a violinist under David in many places, but it’s not likely to find a niche among the great romantic concertos, firstly because it’s not really much of a virtuoso vehicle, and secondly, because the composer was so symphonically oriented in his approach that, as pointed out by the above Christopherson, who authored the album note, the work is more of a symphony with violin obbligato than it is a concerto, modeled along the lines of Berlioz’s Harold in Italy. It has, however, been recorded before, not that terribly long ago by Lars Bjørnkjær for Danacord, reviewed in 31:6, a disc I’m afraid I don’t have, but also by Arve Tellefsen with the Oslo Philharmonic on a 1990s Norsk Kulturrads Forlag (NKF) CD, which I do have. Though Tellefsen is every bit Marianne Thorsen’s match on the current Chandos release, unfortunately the NKF recording is a bit dull and recessed sounding.
With the exception of the Romance for Violin and Orchestra, the one work which has probably kept Svendsen from slipping below the horizon with the late-setting summer Scandinavian sun, all of the works on this third volume of his orchestral output are pleasant and attractive, and in the capable hands of Neeme Järvi, the Bergen Philharmonic, violinist Marianne Thorsen, and Chandos’s engineers, beautifully played and recorded; but—ah, the inevitable “but”—the musical nourishment Svendsen affords is probably not life-sustaining. Still, if you’re an obsessive collector, as I suspect many of Fanfare’s readers are, and you acquired Volumes 1 and 2 of this Svendsen survey, this third is obligatory.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Berio: Orchestral Realisations - Schubert, Mahler, Brahms / Gardner, Bergen Philharmonic
Berio had an abiding fascination with reconciling the past and the present, which can be seen in his orchestral realisations of works by Mahler and Brahms, and most notably, in Rendering (1990), his typically creative completion of unfinished symphonic sketches by Schubert. In Rendering, Berio - in his own words - sets himself the target of 'following those modern restoration criteria that aim at reviving the old colours without, however, trying to disguise the damage that time has caused, often leaving inevitable empty patches in the composition'. In the 'restoration', Schubert's sketches have been beautifully orchestrated in period style, and the 'empty patches' have been filled with music composed by Berio himself, in his own voice - thereby successfully combining the musical worlds of the early nineteenth and late twentieth centuries into one convincing whole. The Clarinet Sonata by Brahms embodies the composer's taut and concentrated compositional style. In transcribing the work, Berio felt that, when experienced in the less intimate surroundings of today's concert halls, the extreme compression of Brahms's late chamber music style was in need of some additional support, and his version, recorded here, includes a fourteen-bar orchestral introduction to the first movement, leading into Brahms's own, much shorter opening phrase, as well as five additional bars at the beginning of the second movement. Berio completed his orchestration of six early songs by Gustav Mahler in 1987, and conducted the first performance with the Toscanini Orchestra on 7 December that year,with Thomas Hampson the baritone soloist. The six songs in this orchestrated set are 'Hans und Grete', 'Phantasie', 'Scheiden und Meiden', 'Erinnerung', 'Frühlingsmorgen', and 'Ich ging mit Lust durch einen grünen Wald'. The Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra is conducted by Edward Gardner, with Roderick Williams the baritone soloist in the songs by Mahler and Michael Collins the soloist in Brahms's Clarinet Sonata.
Bruch: Violin Concerto No 1, Romanze, String Quintet / Gluzman, Litton, Bergen PO
Throughout his 82-year life, Max Bruch remained true to the musical ideals of his youth, formed by Schubert, Mendelssohn, Schumann and German folk songs. As a result, the same composer who in the 1880’s was regarded as Brahms’ equal, by the time of his death in 1920 was considered an anachronistic irrelevance. Nowadays, however, few would deny that his production includes numerous works of exquisite sonority, beautiful melodiousness and admirable formal cohesion: a glorious irrelevance indeed. His Violin Concerto No. 1 was a spectacular success from its first performance in 1868, and soon won over audiences both in Germany and abroad. In fact, it became so popular that Bruch in later years became increasingly worried about being considered a ‘one-hit wonder’. It is thus a staple of all violin soloists that Vadim Gluzman here takes on, after his recordings of the concertos by Tchaikovsky (‘without doubt one of the work's finest recordings in recent years’, BBC Music Magazine), Barber (‘one of the most beautiful and characterful recordings of this work’, klassik-heute.de) and Korngold (‘Gluzman’s playing lends the work a new vitality and cohesion’, Classica). Supported by the eminent Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra and its music director Andrew Litton, Gluzman couples the work with a rarity, a violin version of the Romance in F major, Op.85, composed by Bruch for viola and orchestra almost 35 years after the violin concerto. The composer also made an arrangement for violin and piano, and it is this violin part which Gluzman performs to the original orchestral score. Closing the programme is the String Quintet in A minor in which Gluzman is joined by four eminent string players: Sandis Šteinbergs, Maxim Rysanov, Ilze Klava and Reinis Birznieks. Composed in 1918, the Quintet certainly offers no indication of being the exact contemporary of modernist works such as Stravinsky’s Histoire d’un soldat; on the other hand its almost youthful energy, dramatic instinct and playful exuberance equally belies the fact that it was composed by a man in his eightieth year.
Prokofiev: Symphony No 6 / Litton, Bergen PO
Premièred in January 1945, Sergei Prokofiev’s optimistic and heroic Fifth Symphony had seemed to herald the victorious end of World War Two. In stark contrast to this, his Symphony No.6, which received its first performance in 1947, is one of his deepest and most personal works. Although it was greeted with enthusiasm by the audience, the Soviet authorities were critical of the work and in 1948 a Party resolution singled it out as ‘abnormal’ and ‘repellent’. In fact, the first ideas for the symphony preceded those for the Fifth, and date from a period when the issue of the war was still uncertain. Early in 1945 the composer had suffered a collapse, from which he never completely recovered and which forced him to live the life of an invalid with almost constant headaches. In regard to the work, Prokofiev himself stated: ‘Now we are rejoicing in our great victory, but each of us has wounds that cannot be healed.’ This haunted symphony is here coupled with two works which illustrate a very different side of the composer, his gift for creating vivid musical images that can sum up a scene in a few bold strokes. These are the ever-popular suites from The Love for Three Oranges, the tragic-comical opera from 1921, and from the film score to Lieutenant Kijé, a light-hearted satire from 1934. The original film score included two songs, which form the second and fourth movements of the concert suite. Often performed in a version for solo saxophone and orchestra, these are heard in this recording in their original vocal form, performed by the Ukranian baritone Andrei Bondarenko. With acclaimed previous recordings of music by Prokofiev, as well as by Stravinsky and Rachmaninov, Andrew Litton and his Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra are a tried-and-tested team in this repertoire, and once again make the most of the enormous palette of colours and moods provided by these three scores.
Prokofiev: Symphony No 5 / Litton, Bergen
Then there’s the stiff competition; Neeme Järvi’s much-celebrated cycle for Chandos springs to mind, as does Dmitri Kitaienko’s for Phoenix Edition. Sakari Oramo’s Ondine Fifth and Sixth mustn’t be overlooked either. All offer very different views of the Fifth, Prokofiev’s great wartime symphony, and that in itself suggests the work responds well to opposing interpretations. Oramo’s is a case in point, for he taps into a vein of lyricism that others don’t always find. He also has a very transparent recording that exposes much of the score’s inner workings.
The Järvi Fifth dates from the conductor’s halcyon days with the RSNO – then the Scottish National Orchestra – which yielded particularly memorable recordings of Richard Strauss, Shostakovich and Prokofiev. Revisiting his Prokofiev Fifth after a long break I discovered the performance has all the spunk and spike that I remember, although the treble is fiercer and the big moments are rougher than I recall. I have no such qualms about his Scythian Suite – coupled with a white-hot Alexander Nevsky – which is my benchmark for the piece.
Litton’s Andante is powerful enough, but alongside Järvi and Kitaienko it takes a little while to limber up. Admittedly, this is the kind of music that lends itself to large, gruff gestures, but as Oramo’s forensic reading confirms there’s more to this score than that. For sheer excitement, though, Järvi is hard to beat; as for Kitaienko he plays the music with a a bold, deep-rooted conviction that’s impressive too. Litton isn’t quite so overt, so visceral, but I soon came to realise that's no bad thing. The recording is exceptionally vivid, although there's an occasional hardness in the treble.
Moving on, Litton’s perky Allegro marcato is nicely phrased, and he captures the score’s veers and vacillations very well indeed. Now this is more like it. The Bergen Phil are well up to the challenge and the BIS balances are much more believable than Phoenix's; while that certainly helps to soften the music’s sharpest edges it doesn't undermine the thrust and energy of Litton's reading. Oramo’s version is the most pliant and personal one here, but some may feel that robs the music of its pith and piquancy. As for Järvi he's as taut and compelling as ever in this movement, a reminder of just how good a team he and the RSNO once were.
The yearning Adagio with its inner musings and gentle tread finds Litton at his most thoughtful and communicative. There’s a pleasing lucidity and openness here that's most welcome. In short, this is a very persuasive account of this lovely, multi-faceted movement. Built on a smaller, more intimate scale Oramo’s Adagio is the most lyrical and colourful; the Ondine recording has a very strong stereo spread, and it’s closer to BIS's in terms of subtlety and tonal sophistication. Unfortunately Oramo allows the pace to flag, which is a shame as I like what he’s trying to do. Both are commendably refined, and that makes for more congenial performances than either Järvi's or Kitaienko's; frankly, the latter have a raw edge and restless angularity that can be a tad unremitting at times.
In that rather forceful context Litton’s frisky Allegro giocoso may seem rather reticent, although it’s actually alert and keenly paced. Not only that, there's a joy, a sparkle, to this music that brisker and more declamatory performances tend to miss. I'm also extremely imprssed by the recorded sound, which really brings out the score's muances and competing timbres. Here and in the symphony as a whole Litton is nearer to the affectionate and reflective Oramo than he is to the volatile Kitaienko/Järvi. I can live with both extremes, but it's a relief - and a pleasure - to hear Prokofiev performances that don't sound like they're being forged on a factory floor.
The Scythian Suite gets a typically febrile outing, with thumping bass and glittering treble. Järvi may have the rhythmic edge, not to mention the most spectacular recording, but Litton’s no slouch either. As with the symphony he combines slam with subtlety, and there's a mervellous sense of a tale being told. He’s aided and abetted by wide-ranging sonics and an orchestra that's in tip-top condition. Indeed, this strikes me as the very best of BIS’s Grieg Hall productions to date, and that augurs well for the rest of Litton’s Prokofiev cycle.
Despite some initial reservations I’m delighted to welcome this addition to the Prokofiev discography. These are performances that grow in stature with each hearing; in fact, not only is Litton's Scythian Suite every bit as thrilling as Järvi's, it's also the more illuminating - the most interesting - of the two.
A terrific pairing, very well played and recorded; here’s to the next instalment.
– MusicWeb International
Holst: The Planets - Elgar: Enigma Variations / Litton, Bergen Philharmonic
It is striking that two of the true classics in English orchestral music were composed within the short space of some fifteen years around the turn of the previous century. Edward Elgar's Enigma Variations have charmed as well as fascinated listeners since the first performance in 1899. In 14 remarkably diverse variations Elgar demonstrates his compositional mastery while creating miniature portraits of his closest friends, as well as of his wife and himself. By turns gentle, idyllic, tempestuous and boisterous, the pieces – which often run seamlessly into each other – nevertheless make up a coherent whole, like a group portrait taken during a country weekend. As for the enigma of the title, Elgar – who loved puzzles – maintained that another melody ‘went with’ the theme, and musicologists have searched for the answer ever since, without success.
In 1916 Gustav Holst completed another set of musical character sketches – his suite The Planets, in seven movements. These have little to do with astronomy and even less with the Roman deities whose names they carry. Holst was rather inspired by astrology and the suite actually concerns human character as influenced by the planets. The concept – like that of Elgar's variations – provides for a variety of moods and expressions, and in his score Holst took full advantage of these possibilities. To achieve this he made use of a large orchestra including much percussion, two harps, celesta, organ, two sets of timpani. He also included parts for certain unusual instruments such as bass flute, bass oboe and tenor tuba, and – in the final movement – a female chorus. Performing the programme in the warm acoustics of Bergen's Grieg Hall, the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra under Andrew Litton give it their all in this sonic spectacular.
REVIEW:
Established collectors will probably have multiple performances of these works in their collection. They may not have them coupled together, however, and that is a bonus, especially for those lucky youngsters coming new to these works and for whom this disc is the perfect choice. Superbly recorded and with an excellent insert note by Philip Borg-Wheeler, it carries a most convincing performance of The Planets and a revelatory one of the ‘Enigma’ Variations.
– MusicWeb International
Mendelssohn: Symphonies 3 & 5 / Litton, Bergen Philharmonic
I am new to this series of recordings, but this disc represents the last in a set of three which covers all of Mendelssohn’s symphonies, celebrating the 200th anniversary of his birth in 1809.
Both of these works have an easy-sounding and relatively sunny disposition, which hides considerable difficulties in their genesis. Started in 1829 in Scotland, the cover image for this disc is an engraving of the Grass Market in Edinburgh, one of the places Mendelssohn stayed during his trip through what was then considered a romantic wilderness suitable for artistic reflection. The symphony was only completed by 1842 however; some 12 years after the Reformation symphony. The reason for its lower opus number is that Mendelssohn was dissatisfied with the latter work, and refused to allow its publication during his lifetime. As has been stated already, the lightness of touch which has made Mendelssohn such a refreshingly attractive voice among composers of this period is very much in evidence with these symphonies, and Andrew Litton gets excellent results from the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra.
We have heard a few ‘period’ recordings of these pieces in recent years, and a trend towards smaller orchestral footprints from bands such as the Swedish Chamber Orchestra in their Schumann symphonic cycle with Thomas Dausgaard. This recording from BIS does not fall into these categories by any means. This is not to say that Litton’s approach is anything less than supple and idiomatically appropriate, and I know of several quarters which will welcome the warmly expressive strings in the playing here. Vibrato is also a quality in the woodwind, but my hat goes off to all of the Bergen players for impeccable intonation, and to the flute and other woodwinds for their expressive and thankfully non wide-and-wobbly vibrato. The weight of voicing is also very accurately placed at all times, and a superlatively good balance provides both detail and an overall orchestral texture in the tutti sections. This transparency of texture is an inherent quality in Mendelssohn’s orchestral writing, but I also have the feeling that we might owe a debt of gratitude to the kind of clarity obtained by Roger Norrington for his early 1990s recordings on Virgin Classics with the London Classical Players. In this way, Litton’s readings of these pieces fall somewhere between Norrington’s lithe cleanliness and Claudio Abbado’s more emotionally communicative performances captured through the London Symphony Orchestra on Deutsche Grammophon. Yes, Litton is clarity, dynamism and expressively warm playing personified, but he does tend to enhance the classical origins and early romantic context of these pieces. He draws superb results from the Bergen orchestra and brings out all of the rugged Beethovenian character in the Reformation symphony, but does steer an uncontroversial path which while wonderful for repeated listening and reference, may not have you in palpitations of excitement on first hearing.
I’ve read dismissive remarks on these performances as ‘middle of the road’, but extremes of interpretative license are not what we are likely to be looking for in Mendelssohn. He has his pious moments, and high octane passion and emotional hubris are not really ‘hot’ elements in this music, at least not to today’s jaundiced ears. There are some intriguing forward-looking moments as well. Listen to those calm string passages between 2:22 and 3:05 in the first movement of the Symphony No.5: Charles Ives’s The Unanswered Question? Not far off, and to my mind such spine-tingling moments lift this recording above the run-of-the-mill. Add the sheer quality of the playing into the mix, and we have a winning combination. The SACD qualities of the recording are a nice enhancement, as usual opening out the aural picture and giving a real sense of location and involvement. Still attempting to put my finger on some marginal reservations, I suppose it might come down to these performances being very much ‘studio’ in nature. Looking at the booklet, I don’t get the feeling that the impassioned photo of Andrew Litton in full action on the back is taken from these sessions or this music. One has a sense that the players might respond with just that extra ‘edge’ with a live audience rather than just the familiar if marvellous acoustic of the Bergen Philharmonic’s home concert hall, but this might as well just be my imagination looking for weaknesses which aren’t really there at all. Conductors and record producers just can’t win can they? Anything other than highly polished performances and we reviewers start moaning about blemishes; and the closer things come to perfection the more we’re likely to hit on a lack of that last nth of emotional content and excitement. Fear not in this case however: if you are looking for ‘perfect’ symphonic Mendelssohn then this disc has to come somewhere near, if not at the very top of the list.
Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International
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MENDELSSOHN Symphonies: No. 3, “ Scottish”; No. 5, “ Reformation” • Andrew Litton, cond; Bergen PO • BIS 1604 (SACD: 70:15)
I did not find Andrew Litton’s traversal of the “Lobegesang” symphony as convincing as I had hoped, so when this arrived in the mail I was full of concern. Mendelssohn’s works deserve the full-frontal SACD treatment, and Litton I had hoped was the man to do it, but the “Lobgesang” foretold that a successful complete series this was not to be. However, surprise of surprises, this new installment turns out to be all I had hoped for and more. The sound, to get that out of the way, is stunning, as are the performances by the Bergen players. They leave nothing to be desired.
But this is well-tread ground and needs groundbreaking readings to make a dent in almost anyone’s pantheon. Mendelssohn never really liked the “Reformation” Symphony, and to tell you the truth, I understand why. The thing is a hodgepodge of overblown Protestant sentimentality, uses the Dresden “Amen” in a way that is most artificial, and Luther’s well-worn “Mighty Fortress” easily degenerates into something pompous and bloated. Structurally this is one of the composer’s weakest works, and it takes a conductor with a great deal of sympathetic understanding to glue all the parts together. There are some exciting things here, and Mendelssohn’s symphonic skill is obvious, but his materials can grate when in the wrong hands.
Bernard Haitink is a conductor who understands this and was able to turn in a remarkably fluent performance on Philips years ago; it remains my favorite, at least did until a few weeks ago when I first heard this Litton. Everything is as right in this reading as it can be, and Litton presents the populist music in a manner that refuses to dwell on it as if it is populist music. The results are wonderful, and this one races to the top of the list.
The “Scottish” is Mendelssohn’s last and greatest symphony, though there have been very few really outstanding performances of the piece on record. Haitink coupled his “Reformation” with this work, and it is very well done. Leonard Bernstein knew his way around the work, though his sonics are a bit thin, and Christoph von Dohnányi also turned in a very fine reading on Telarc with his Clevelanders. Peter Maag has owned the piece for ages in my opinion, his also rather thin-sounding recording on Decca holding the fort until this Litton came along. Maag’s reading still reigns—his Decca is a classic. But this one is also extremely close to Maag’s, and the sound is simply not comparable in any way to the aged Decca. Litton’s grandeur and joyous verve in this work guarantees a place in the one-to-choose top five list, and BIS is to be congratulated for signing him and the Bergen folks to record this. Easily and somewhat urgently recommended.
FANFARE: Steven E. Ritter
Prokofiev: Symphonies Nos. 4 & 7 / Litton, Bergen Philharmonic
This is a perfect disc. Andrew Litton’s Prokofiev symphonies have been inconsistent so far, ranging from an excellent Sixth to a ho-hum Fifth. Here absolutely everything goes right. The revised, enlarged version of the Fourth Symphony can sound bloated and too long for its material. This performance, by contrast, has passion, color, and drive aplenty. Especially in the outer movements, you’d never know that the leaner, meaner first version exists, and no praise can be higher than that.
The Seventh has always been, for me at least, a better work than many commentators allow. It contains, for example, one of Prokofiev’s best lyrical melodies in its first movement and finale. The waltz-like scherzo is wholly delightful, the slow third movement touching. Prokofiev often indulges a deliberate simplicity, and Litton takes him at his word, never for a moment lapsing into artifice or affectation.
The finale, which we get to hear twice complete, once with each of its endings, is particularly breezy and exhilarating. Through it all the Bergen Philharmonic plays gorgeously, and the SACD sonics are state-of-the-art. A wonderful release.
– ClassicsToday (David Hurwitz)
Prokofiev: Piano Concertos 2 & 3 / Kempf, Litton
Separately, both Freddy Kempf and the team of Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra under Andrew Litton have recorded music by Prokofiev for BIS, resulting in highly acclaimed releases. Freddy Kempf's 2003 Prokofiev solo recital was described as 'a superb disc' in Gramophone, whose critic went on to write: 'Kempf is joyfully exuberant, flashing through every savage challenge with the assurance and instinct of a born virtuoso.' Four years later, the Bergen orchestra and Litton recorded the twenty movements from the composer's three Romeo and Juliet suites, performed in the order the music appears in the ballet score. The outcome of this original approach was widely praised, for instance by the reviewer on the German website Klassik Heute: "a European top orchestra and an American conductor with great insights into the Russian repertoire meet up, and the result is sparkling, colourful, ardent and with great presence..." Kempf, Litton and the Bergen PO now join forces in an all-Prokofiev programme that includes the most popular of his five piano concertos, namely the Third, a spontaneous work, vigorous and melodic in turns and full of striking material presented in a typical Prokofiev manner. This is coupled with the Second Piano Concerto, which Prokofiev himself premièred in 1913, shocking the audience with its modernistic sounds and jagged rhythms. The original score was lost during the Russian Revolution and Prokofiev reconstructed the work in Paris in 1923. According to the composer himself, the new version was so completely rewritten that it almost constituted a new work. Between the two concertos Freddy Kempf performs the Second Piano Sonata, a key work in Prokofiev's development and full of striking and individual ideas.
Rachmaninov: Symphony No. 2 - Liadov: The Enchanted Lake / Litton, Bergen Philharmonic
Since his appointment as chief conductor and later music director in 2003, Andrew Litton and the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra have richly proven a particular affinity for Russian repertoire, both on their numerous tours and in recording. Works by Prokofiev, Stravinsky, Rachmaninov, Tchaikovsky, Medtner and Scriabin have featured on discs which have been welcomed by the international music press with distinctions such as Editor's Choice (Gramophone), Disc of the Month (Classic FM Magazine and ClassicsToday.com), Empfohlen (Klassik-Heute.de) and IRR Outstanding (International Record Review). As Litton now steps down from his post with the Bergen orchestra, the team marks the event with their rendition of Sergei Rachmaninov's gigantic Second Symphony, with its playing time of 60+ minutes as broad and expansive as the Russian steppes. The work followed upon a first symphony which in 1897 had had a disastrous reception, and it took the intensely self-critical Rachmaninov ten years before making another attempt at the genre. Fortunately the first performance of the work in 1908 was a complete success, the broad melodic gestures and the arduous journey from the brooding melancholy of the symphony’s introduction to the triumphant liberation at its close speaking directly to the St Petersburg audience. Later criticism of the symphony’s broad scale prompted Rachmaninov to sanction several cuts, however, and it was only in the mid-1960s that it became common practice to perform the symphony complete – as in the present recording. Rachmaninov is joined on the disc by his older colleague Anatoly Liadov, whose brief and shimmering tone poem The Enchanted Lake provides an atmospheric ending to the recording – in the words of Liadov himself an image of nature, as ‘fantastic as a fairy tale’, in which the listener will feel ‘the change of the colours, the chiaroscuro, the incessantly changeable stillness…’
Review:
Rachmaninov’s Second Symphony is often accused of being gargantuan, schmaltzy and overblown. In Andrew Litton’s new recording with the Bergen Philharmonic, it sounds gargantuan, schmaltzy – and just blown enough, if you like your Rachmaninov big and extrovert.
– Guardian (UK)
Schoenberg: Erwartung & Pelleas und Melisande /Jakubiak, Gardner, Bergen Philharmonic
REVIEW:
Gardner keeps the music’s sumptuousness on a tight rein, favouring faster tempi than most other interpreters. But he makes sure the shape of the huge musical structure is never compromised, and there’s no lack of tonal weight when required from the Bergen Philharmonic. Jakubiak is a compelling soprano soloist too, far less histrionic and squally than some.
– Guardian (UK)
Gershwin: Rhapsody In Blue, Piano Concerto In F, Second Rhapsody / Litton, Kempf, Bergen Philharmonic
The arresting clarinet glissando at the start of George Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue is probably the most famous opening in American music. It also serves as a symbol for an important current in 20th century music - that of merging popular genres and art music into something wholly new - and as such becomes even more significant through the fact that it wasn't even in the score when the composer first started rehearsals with the Paul Whiteman Orchestra, before the première in 1924: this particular feature, oozing of smoky jazz clubs, was arrived at in collaboration with the clarinettist of the orchestra. At the time, Gershwin was was a mere 25 years old, but already a celebrated jazz pianist and songsmith, with a string of hits to his name. Due to a lack of time, he entrusted the orchestration to Ferde Grofé, the regular arranger of Whiteman's jazz band. The immediate success of the work created a demand for a version for symphony orchestra, however, and for a long time that was the one most usually heard in concert and on disc. On the present recording, Freddy Kempf and the conductor Andrew Litton - himself a noted soloist in Gershwin's works for piano and orchestra - have opted for the original orchestration, allowing the musicians of the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra to revel in the role of a classic American big band. Following the première of Rhapsody in Blue, Gershwin was commissioned to write a 'proper' piano concerto. He did so the following year, this time providing his own orchestration. Also highly successful with its original audience, Concerto in F employed the rhythms, melodic structures and bluesy harmonies of popular music, but its form is resolutely classical. Also included on the disc are Gershwin's two remaining works for piano and orchestra, the Second Rhapsody (here in his own, original orchestration) and the infectious Variations on 'I Got Rhythm'. The performers on this disc have previously collaborated in a highly acclaimed recording of works by Prokofiev - a disc shortlisted for a Gramophone Award in 2010. The reviewer in International Record Review found it 'an exciting performance, with soloist and conductor working as one' with 'wit as well as virtuosity in Kempf's playing' - qualities that are in rich evidence in this new release too.
Grieg: Norwegian Dances, Symphonic Dances, Lyric Suite / Ruud, Bergen PO
Another BIS first. Not the music this time but the way it is packaged. BIS breaks new ground by offering the public the first surround-sound version of Grieg's justly popular Symphonic Dances. Like all our hybrid SACD releases, this disc is compatible with all CD players but will also provide a surround-sound performance - at no extra cost - to those who are equipped with the relevant hardware. This highly atmospheric music, which so easily removes the listener to the lonely beauty fo the Norwegian fjords, gains especially from the striking realism of a musically balanced surround-sound recording. Further enticement is added by the inclusion of both the Norwegian Dances and the Lyric Suite on this disc. The performances are by Grieg's own orchestra, the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Ole Kristian Ruud. This disc follows the recently released SACD1191 containing, among other works, the famous 'Piano Concerto' in our Grieg-Bergman PO - Ruud cycle.
