To mark Britten's 100th birthday, Mariss Janson's conducted the composer's best-known and most moving work, War Requiem, in March 2013. In addition to the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, the Tolz Boys' Choir can also be heard. An outstanding ensemble of soloists rounds off this remarkable recording.

SONDHEIM Sweeney Todd • Ulf Schirmer, cond; Mark Stone ( Sweeney Todd ); Jane Henschel ( Mrs. Lovett ); Gregg Baker ( Anthony Hope ); Rebecca Bottone ( Johanna ); Jonathan Best ( Judge Turpin ); Adrian Dwyer ( Beadle Bamford ); Diana DiMarzio ( Beggar Woman ); Ronald Samm ( Pirelli ); Pascal Charbonneau ( Tobias ); Bavarian R Ch; Munich R O • BR 900316 (2 CDs: 123:59) Live: Munich 5/6/2012


Composer-librettist Stephen Sondheim maintains that Sweeney Todd is not an opera, and so does the annotator for the present release. Nevertheless, Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (its full title), since it premiered on Broadway in 1979, has been revived by several opera companies, including the New York City Opera, the Houston Grand Opera, and the Chicago Lyric Opera. Why? Musically, it is highly sophisticated, and operatic voices are not wasted on it. Furthermore, with its larger-than-life dramatic themes, including mistaken identity, lust, vengeance, obsession, madness, and murder, how more operatic could a theatrical work be?


There have been several recordings of this work, including the unforgettable original cast recording on RCA with Len Cariou in the title role, and Angela Lansbury in the role of Mrs. Lovett, his cheerfully amoral partner in crime. That version will never be eclipsed, but each new recording adds a welcome new perspective. The one reviewed here, recorded in the Munich’s Prinzregententheater, is the most operatic yet, even more than the one with the New York Philharmonic which features singers such as Heidi Grant Murphy (Johanna), John Aler (Beadle Bamford), and Paul Plishka (Judge Turpin). This time around, we have legitimate operatic singers in all of the main roles; only DiMarzio appears not to be a “classical” musician per se. In other words, here we have an ensemble of acting singers, as opposed to singing actors such as Cariou, Lansbury, George Hearn, Patti LuPone, and Michael Cerveris, who all have made major contributions to this opera’s . . . I mean, musical’s performance history.


It turns out fairly well. I was immediately pulled in by Ulf Schirmer’s conducting, which is tense, taut, and stylish. In fact, you might not hear a better conducted Sweeney Todd anywhere. The Bavarian Radio Choir also adds much to the success of this performance. Although their diction is less clear than that of English-speaking ensembles who have recorded this music, their dramatic involvement is high, as is their musicianship.


This is an actual performance. Apparently the time, funds, or energy to correct the inevitable live lapses was unavailable, and thus we have oddities such as Henschel at one point rechristening Beadle Bamford as “Beadle Rumford.” A few memory lapses are covered professionally, but will leave those who know the show well asking, “What did (s)he just sing?” These issues are minor, though.


I’m more concerned about two other points. One is the lack of (black, very black) humor in this production. For example, I can’t understand why, in “A Little Priest,” the wonderfully uncomfortable pun about a meat pie made from a general (“With or without his privates?”) has been removed. This is a grim show, still there is much about it that can be very funny, and allowing it to be so makes the gore and horror even more effective. As the original Mrs. Lovett, Angela Lansbury was charming and endearing; she might bake you into a meat pie, but you couldn’t stay angry with her for long! Henschel can’t inspire that kind of affection, and she makes it clear that her murderous instincts were present even before opportunity allowed them to come out. The other thing that concerns me is the way in which some of the big dramatic moments are almost thrown away. Todd’s aborted murder of Judge Turpin (interrupted by Anthony’s untimely arrival) should be a big moment, but it isn’t. Similarly, soon after, in Todd’s “Epiphany,” we should feel his mind crack and his murderous rage insanely swell to encompass all of mankind, not just the Judge, but Mark Stone is not that fine an actor, the direction is too hurried, and one of the show’s most Brechtian moments doesn’t come off. The last segment of the show, with its string of murders and its Grand Guignol effects, moves forward jerkily, sometimes grinding to a halt, and sometimes not pausing long enough to make its points. On Broadway, Harold Prince would have fixed these miscalculations, but, at least as I am hearing them on CD, they were not addressed in Munich’s Prinzregententheater.


All of the singing itself is very fine. One curiosity is a baritone Anthony; Gregg Baker’s voice is darker than Mark Stone’s. Anthony is supposed to be an inexperienced sailor, newly arrived in London, and the early scenes between him and Todd feel strange, because the voice relationships have been inverted from the original production. I really missed hearing a tenor’s voice soar into “Johanna,” one of Sondheim’s most rapturous love songs. Also, the multinational cast presents a variety of accents. In 1979, Cariou had almost no accent at all, while Lansbury made the most of hers. Here, we have the reverse: a cockney Todd in Baker, and a Mrs. Lovett of no particular nationality or region in Henschel. Someday, there will be a production of this work in which everyone gets on the same page with dialects.


So, if you want an operatic Sweeney Todd , or a fresh look at it, this new recording will satisfy. It has many enjoyable moments, but a few unfortunate ones as well. If you do not know this show at all, however, the Broadway cast recording—still in print, thank goodness!—is the only place to begin. This show is one of the masterpieces of American musical theater, and absolutely needs to be heard.


FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle

BEETHOVEN Piano Concerto No. 1. 1 MOZART Piano Concerto No. 18 2 • Martha Argerich (pn); Seiji Ozawa, cond; 1 Eugen Jochum, cond; 2 Bavarian RSO • BR 900701 (63:37) Live: Munich 7/17/1983; 1 Würzburg 6/22/1973 2


If there are two composers not normally associated with the kind of white-heat performances of Martha Argerich, they are Beethoven and Mozart. Though generally thought of as a pianist of the virtuoso repertoire, including everything from the Liszt Sonata to the Prokofiev concertos, Argerich here shows herself to be not only a stylish player, but a profoundly interesting one as well. While some might describe Argerich’s playing here as “holding back,” I would disagree; she has absorbed the style of the music that she’s playing here so completely that, rather than giving less than normal, it sounds like she is giving just enough.


The Beethoven is very good. The orchestra, at times seems a bit sluggish, especially in the opening tutti before the piano makes its entrance, but Argerich has an ability to breathe life into the performance. Her playing has spontaneity; one feels at times that she is almost improvising the figurational patterns. The vitality and the lightness, which Argerich brings out so well, are evident from her very first entry. The balance between orchestra and piano is maintained well throughout; the soloist and instrumentalists of the orchestra always playing off of each other well. The pianist’s dynamic control is, as always, superb. When Argerich plays the trill in the first movement at 12: 14, the notes detached, and pulls back at 12:16 to begin the trill pianissimo and legato, to only crescendo up a few seconds later, the effect is not only breathtaking, but palpable. The movements that follow are equally well done. Argerich’s ability to produce a transparent , mezza voce sound in the slow movement is ideal. The rapid scalar runs are easy for her, and the effect more of a dynamic surge than ornamental filigree. The third movement is taken at a lively pace, and the offbeat accents sound naturally done—never over the top. This recording is similar in conception to another of Argerich’s live performances with the Royal Concertgebouw under Heinz Wallberg (EMI 56974), though I prefer this rendition with Ozawa.


This is the only recording I know of Argerich playing this Mozart Concerto. As good as the Beethoven is, the Mozart is better. The balance here is even finer than in the previous Concerto, and the colors inherent in the orchestration are brought to the fore—Mozart’s mastery is in evidence here and the performers bring this out especially well. One of my favorite moments is in the second variation of the second movement, the Andante un poco sostenuto, where the strings take over the melody and the piano is left to wander about with its figurative patterns. Later, after the Maggiore section, the same treatment of the melody in the strings and the piano with figurative accompaniment is again done perfectly; this time the figurative wandering, in both the left and right hands of the piano, is even more delicately accomplished. Argerich shows her understanding of this passage and does so with sensitivity. The third movement is the epitome of jollity. The tempo, perfectly chosen, again allows Argerich to keep the scalar patterns light and graceful.


These are both fine performances, ones that I would not hesitate to have in my collection. The sound is good, the piano a bit forward at certain moments, but musically made up for in the performances. As these are staples of the concerto repertoire though, I would still recommend owning a few other fine performances: in the Beethoven, Adrian Aeschbacher with Wilhelm Furtwängler conducting the Lucerne Festival Orchestra (Music & Arts 1018), an older recording with less than modern studio sound, but a fabulous performance, and in the Mozart, Peter Serkin with Alexander Schneider conducting the English Chamber Orchestra (RCA Victor Red Seal 35123—now available on arkivmusic.com as an ArkivCD).


FANFARE: Scott Noriega

BERNSTEIN West Side Story: Symphonic Dances. Trouble in Tahiti 1 & • Ulf Schirmer, cond; Kim Criswell ( Dinah ); 1 Rodney Gilfry ( Sam ); 1 Marlene Grimson ( Trio sop ); 1 Adrian Dwyer ( Trio ten ); 1 Ronan Collett ( Trio bar ); 1 Munich RO • BR 719003 (77:43 Text and Translation) Live: Munich 10/12/2008


& German interview with Ulf Schirmer


I have not generally been impressed with German orchestral performances of distinctly American scores such as these by Leonard Bernstein—heavily dependent on Latin dance rhythms and jazz inflections, having found too many of them stiff and uncomfortable with the idiom. I rather imagine that Viennese listeners have a similar reaction when an American orchestra and conductor perform Johann Strauss. Like the subtle inflections of language, there are some things one just absorbs from the culture that are hard to master otherwise.


So it proves here, especially in the “Symphonic Dances.” The percussion get the rhythms, and the brass have the feel as well, though the trumpets seem reluctant to wail with sufficient abandon, but generally, the woodwinds just can’t quite bring themselves to let lose in the long stretches of exuberance, and the strings are too polite by half. Add to that Ulf Schirmer’s tendency to relax momentum in the more lyrical sections—something Bernstein never did—and you have a performance that is a little too pokerfaced to take flight. It is not bad by any means—Schirmer often generates a good deal of energy and excitement—but it is simply not competitive with more idiomatic performances by the composer and others.


Some of that same orchestral stiffness infects the performance of Bernstein’s heavily ironic, autobiographical one-act opera, Trouble in Tahiti —the characters almost certainly represent Bernstein’s mismatched parents, Jennie and Sam—but this performance is harder to pass over. First of all, there are not a lot of recordings around, and more important, these singers have the style to make it work. The issue raised by this interpretation is one of genre: is it opera or is it musical theater? While most performances are cast with classically trained singers who can act, this recording straddles the fence by using an operatic baritone and a Broadway mezzo. (They also appeared in Simon Rattle’s 1999 EMI Wonderful Town .) Both are very fine: Gilfry, with his virile, flexible instrument, is a perfect self-absorbed and egotistical Sam, and Criswell, a singer with a vibrant and colorful voice, though rather limited on top for “I was standing in a garden,” is an emotionally fragile and angry Dinah. Their voices never blend, but one has to wonder if the stylistic contrast is an interpretive choice. Certainly, even if the combination gives less aural pleasure than two matched operatic voices might, it makes some sense for the antagonistic characters. And the choice of Criswell, a brilliant actress, is vindicated by an absolutely stunning performance of the show-stopping, musical theater-style “What a movie!” The Greek-chorus jazz vocal trio is classy with a reasonable sense of swing, and though the balance between the voices is not always ideal, they create just the right balance of satire and empathy.


In the end though, effective as this performance is, it must still take second place to the 1973 Bernstein-led performance on Sony 60969: very stylish and expressive, with excellent soloists and a perfect trio. There are other performances on CD: the student-cast performance by the Manhattan School of Music Opera Theater on Newport Classic 85641 is quite good, and the 2006 Calliope recording (9391) in accented English with French performers, is an interesting novelty: urbane and very coolly jazzy. But once you have the Bernstein CD, Gilfry and Criswell make this new release an ideal supplement.


FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames

Among Simon Rattle's first concert programs as the new chief conductor of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra was Gustav Mahler's Sixth Symphony. The performances marked the beginning of a new chapter in Mahler interpretation, for Rattle, like his predecessors Jansons, Maazel and Kubelík, is an ardent admirer of the composer. BR-KLASSIK has now released the live recording of the concerts.

Gustav Mahler's Sixth Symphony is perhaps the darkest work he ever wrote – its nickname is "The Tragic". And there is something almost destructive about the final movement. "But strangely enough," says Simon Rattle, "it is also a very classical symphony. Yes, it is extreme, but for long stretches it is less wild than other works of his – although of course it does convey a harrowing message. But it's like a lot of great works: there are always different ways of reading them. I've been conducting the Sixth for forty years now, and over time I’ve come to realise that it also contains hope."

In the complete edition compiled by BR-KLASSIK, the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks under the direction of its long-time principal conductor Mariss Jansons explores Mahler's symphonic œuvre. This complete recording of Mahler's impressive symphonies is further enhanced by revealing rehearsal recordings and interesting interviews. In his nine symphonies, Gustav Mahler built up an entire world for himself and his listeners. More than almost any other composer, he tried in his symphonic works to get to the very bottom of the cycle of life, that eternal process of becoming and expiring – so what better complete set of symphonies to express the finest qualities of a modern-day conductor and the unique sound of a leading orchestra?

Mariss Jansons found simple and clear words to express what it was that so fascinated and moved him about Mahler's music throughout his life. He said that the composer’s work always related to what was universal and contained absolutely everything that exists in the world. In his symphonies, said Jansons, Mahler captured nature, faith, love, death, pain, tragedy, happiness, humor, utopia, irony, sarcasm - everything that makes up human existence. Jansons regarded his music as posing questions that ultimately every thinking person has to ask, and everyone can find something in it where they recognize themselves as if in a mirror. There are nevertheless no definitive answers in Mahler, "nothing triumphant that is at one with itself." When he first encountered Mahler’s music, this experience struck Jansons like a bolt from the blue. Gradually, he developed into one of the leading Mahler conductors of his era. The fact that he had the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks as a partner here – an orchestra that can look back on a long Mahler tradition - was certainly a very fortunate coincidence.

Named Gramophone Magazine Editor's Choice for December 2022!

For the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, the performances on November 26 and 27, 2021 in the Isarphilharmonie marked the beginning of a new chapter in its Mahler interpretation: with its designated new principal conductor Simon Rattle, the orchestra is now headed by a Mahler admirer every bit as ardent as his predecessors Mariss Jansons, Lorin Maazel, and Rafael Kubelík. The musicians dedicated the benefit concert on November 26 to the memory of conductor Bernard Haitink, who died in October 2021 and was associated with the renowned orchestra for 61 years. The very long silence after the final chord was one of those “goosebumps moments” that one goes to concerts for – and for which music is made in the first place.

Gustav Mahler’s Ninth Symphony, in particular, is understood as the composer’s reaction to a heart ailment that was diagnosed shortly before he wrote the first drafts in the summer of 1908. He was in deep despair, but still scarcely aware of how few years he actually had left to live. With Mahler, it was always in and through music that he tried to come to terms with his life experiences and such topics as farewell, the meaning of existence, death, redemption, life after death and love. He wrote his Ninth Symphony in Dobbiaco, in a kind of creative frenzy, between 1909 and 1910. Its premiere took place in Vienna on June 26, 1912, when the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra performed the work under Bruno Walter. Mahler did not witness the premiere of his last completed work – he had already died on May 18, 1911.

REVIEW:

I would rank Rattle's performance here with the best of the competition and would add that even the classic recordings of Bernstein, Giulini, and Karajan have no significant advantage over Rattle's. In the end Rattle would be my top choice among newer versions and probably the equal of the classic performances on disc.

-- MusicWeb International (Robert Cummings)

If he has always shown very sensitive affinities with Symphony No. 9, Simon Rattle delivers his most accomplished recording to the Bavarian Radio. Recorded live between November 24 and 27, 2021, at the Isarphilharmonie im Gasteig in Munich by Winfried Messmer, [this] powerful orchestral mass presents both great volume and precise definition of timbre and range.

-- Diapason (citation for a Diapason d'or)

The Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra and its designated principal conductor dedicated one of the two concerts used for this recording to the conductor Bernard Haitink, who died in October 2021. It is a great tribute to this outstanding Mahler conductor, and Rattle once again proves what a major Mahler interpreter he is as well.

Right in the first movement, he succeeds in drawing the whole Mahler world in its gripping originality with magnificent breath. Rising and collapse are always close together, and the exciting alternation between tension and release is maintained throughout the symphony. At the same time, this reading is not lacking in sensuality. There is both lyrical beauty, full of abyss, and the light-hearted (and artfully illuminated) play of sound and movement. The three-movement back-and-forth of emotions leads to the Adagio finale, which Rattle conducts thoughtfully and in moderate tempo. The music dies away in a deeply moving 24 minutes with nostalgia, sadness and also some thoughts of hope.

The orchestra is brilliantly disposed and fascinates with both differentiated coloration and the greatest possible transparency. Under Rattle’s direction, Mahler, the orchestral musicians, and he himself merge into a single instrument.

-- Pizzicato

Superbly played and recorded, from November last year (Isarphilharmonie im Gasteig), a memorial concert for Bernard Haitink, Sir Simon’s third recording (following Birmingham and Vienna, both EMI/Warner) of Mahler Nine sports a first movement, if not without a few cosmetic touches, that is a flowing and feisty affair, defiant, better to be alive than not, with impassioned fortissimos, and only in the concluding few minutes does the music issue calmness as well as bittersweet sentiments, although it seems too sudden as well as much too soon – bearing in mind how the Symphony will end, spare and fading to nothingness. The second movement, with its competing waltz and ländler, has its tempo contrasts well-managed, but is perhaps a little too manicured – it needs to be rougher, more rustic and pesante. Poker-faced sophistication suits the ensuing ‘Rondo-Burleske’, its counterpoint wonderfully clear (antiphonal violins swirl either side of the podium) albeit greater bite is sometimes required, and it’s a surprise that Rattle doesn’t linger more in the central section (his is a tempo-related ‘trio’), and the conclusion is thrillingly fast and rendered with A+ virtuosity – the abyss awaits. The final Adagio follows more or less attacca (I can vouch for such a joining from an LSO concert years ago) and is a dignified if intense leave-taking, powerful (vibrant strings, eloquent woodwinds) and ethereal, with a cathartic climax and a hypnotically controlled paring down of resources as expression becomes more and more off the radar.

-- Colin's Column