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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
Saint-Saens: Cello Concertos, Carnival of the Animals / Jarvi, Bergen Philharmonic

The Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra and Neeme Järvi present this unusual collection of popular works by Saint-Saëns, for orchestra and piano or cello. Truls Mork, this season’s Artist in Residence with the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France, is the soloist in the two contrasted cello concertos. His ‘seemingly flawless technical command’ is tested in the suave, expressive, famous No. 1 as well as in the many taxing solo passages, huge leaps, and double-stopping flourishes of No. 2. The indefatigable duo Louis Lortie and Hélène Mercier join in the posthumously published Carnival of the Animals, after a highly successful recording of Concertos by Poulenc with Edward Gardner, Disc of the Week in The Sunday Times. They offer the original version, which features a glass harmonica (normally substituted by a glockenspiel). Louis Lortie is also the soloist in the entertaining fantasia Africa, which incorporates folk tunes of the different countries in which it was composed and which is brought off with consummate zest, as well as in the most characteristic and probably challenging of the composer’s keyboard pieces, the Caprice-Valse Wedding-cake, written for the second wedding of the composer’s virtuosic pianist friend Caroline Montigny-Rémaury.
Review:
This is one of those recordings where it seems invidious to look for faults and which just encourages you to sit back, relax, listen and wallow. Mørk brings his characteristic incisiveness and mountain-spring tone to the concertos.
The Grande fantaisie zoologique receives one of its most successful performances on disc (sans narrator) with just the right balance of instrumental virtuosity, sensitive musicianship and, where the opportunity presents itself, fun. ‘Le cygne’ is elegantly phrased and gracefully paced.
Lovely program. Lovely recording. What’s not to like?
– Gramophone
Grieg: Symphonic Dances / Gardner, Bergen Philharmonic
Grieg’s four Symphonic Dances are a late work, completed in 1898. Grieg takes his inspiration (as in so much of his output) from traditional Norwegian folk tunes, and the four movements together deliver a symphonic unity in their overall effect. Both Bergliot and Before a Southern Convent are written on texts by Grieg’s good friend the author Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson, who was also a theatre manager in Oslo. Bjørnson is considered one of the four great Norwegian authors alongside Ibsen, Lie, and Kielland, received the 1903 Nobel Prize for literature, and wrote the words for the Norwegian national anthem. Bergliot – a declamation with orchestra – tells the story of a dramatic episode involving the chieftain Einar Tambarskjelve and his son Eindride, killed by King Harald Hårdråde. Before a Southern Convent is a more traditional setting – requiring two vocal soloists, female choir, and orchestra rather than the narrator of Bergliot – of the story of the folk-hero and barbarian Arnljot Gelline. In the course of his wild escapades, he killed a chieftain, but allowed the chieftain’s daughter, Ingigerd, to live. This daughter left the homestead and wandered southwards in poverty – through Europe. At long last she arrived at a convent which granted her admittance. The album is completed by the Funeral March for Rikard Nordraak – a friend of Grieg’s, who died of tuberculosis in 1866. Grieg conceived it first for solo piano, but whilst travelling by train to Bergen to attend Grieg’s funeral, Johan Halvorsen made the orchestral arrangement heard in this recording.
Bruckner: Symphony No. 3 / Dausgaard, Bergen Philharmonic
Following a visit to Wagner in Bayreuth in 1873, Anton Bruckner dedicated his most recent symphony, No.3 in D minor, to ‘the unattainable world-famous noble master of poetry and music’ and would later refer to the work as his ‘Wagner Symphony’. Among Bruckner’s symphonies, it is the one with the most complicated genesis: the first version was followed by substantial revisions and it exists in two more versions, from 1877/78 and 1888/89. The first version was never performed in Bruckner’s lifetime – in fact, more than a century passed before the work was heard in the form that Wagner first knew and called ‘a masterpiece’. This is the version that Thomas Dausgaard has chosen to perform, as he and the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra follow up on their recording of the composer’s Sixth Symphony, praised in Fanfare for having ‘all of Bruckner’s splendor and tenderness without any excess baggage’. Dausgaard explains the reason for his choice as follows: ‘The original version stands as a monolith … what you go through is musically so strong, swinging between timelessness and drive, despair and ecstasy, divine light and hellish fire, that in the end I feel you have to let yourself go and be won over by it.’
REVIEW:
Dausgaard's Bruckner symphonies tend toward the quick side, but he has never been quite as relatively fast as he is here; his original Symphony No. 3 is more than 12 minutes faster than a version by Kent Nagano from the early 2000s, and his reading comes in even shorter than some of the recordings of Bruckner's abridged versions. This is all to the good, even for listeners who prefer heavier Bruckner to Dausgaard's rather lithe style. Dausgaard's quick tempos catch the kaleidoscope of moods, and with them, the febrile quality of Bruckner's imagination in this work, really his creative breakthrough. Dausgaard's management of his Bergen musicians is, as usual, exemplary as they skitter through the difficult passages that bedeviled the symphony's early interpreters. A high point in Dausgaard's Bruckner project.
– AllMusicGuide.com (James Manheim)
Bruch & Tveitt / Hemsing, Aadland, Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra
Experience the rich and vibrant sounds of Europe's Romantic tradition with our latest CD featuring music by four talented composers. Discover the little-known talent of Sigurd Lie, a highly skilled violinist and composer from Norway who studied with leading teachers in Leipzig and Berlin. Immerse yourself in the enchanting folk tale inspiration of Lie's "Huldra aa'n Elland" for violin and orchestra and be captivated by the playful and seductive solo violin performed by the renowned violinist Ragnhild Hemsing. Follow in the footsteps of Lie's compatriot, Johan Svendsen, a famous violinist and composer who studied in Leipzig and Paris and is best remembered for his Romance for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 26. Svendsen's work was admired by Belgian violinist and composer Eugène Ysaÿe and was reprinted 65 times. This CD is a must-have for any lover of the Romantic era, the diverse sounds of Norway and Europe, and the virtuosic performances of Hemsing.
Neset: Manmade / Neset, Gardner, Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra
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)
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)
Rachmaninov: Symphonic Dances, Isle Of The Dead, The Rock / Litton, Bergen Philharmonic
-- Barry Brenesal, Fanfare
Nørgård: Symphony No. 8; Orchestral Works / Storgårds, Bergen Philharmonic
Having celebrated his 90th birthday in 2022, Per Nørgård is undoubtedly one of the most important Danish composers since Nielsen. His important production that covers all genres is a highly personal travel document based on his endless incursions through the sonic labyrinths of this world.
Based on material from Nørgård’s viola concerto from 1986, Three Nocturnal Movements for violin, cello and orchestra came about on the initiative of the violinist Peter Herresthal and the cellist Jakob Kullberg, two of his long-term collaborators. The work was creatively developed for two soloists by Kullberg, who decided on the form of the movement after making a selection of musical fragments described as ‘nocturnal’.
Dedicated to the conductor John Storgårds, Symphony No. 8 appears bright, transparent while its atmosphere is somewhat mysterious and filled with tension. This symphony, his most recent work in this genre, can be compared to latter works from other Nordic composers like Sibelius and Nielsen. Finally, Lysning, a short piece for string orchestra, has been described by Nørgård as a ‘glade’ and is made of an alternance of darker and brighter variations of the same musical ideas heard in different instrumental colourings and nuances.
Mozart: Piano Concertos Nos. 9 & 21 / Lazić, Vriend, Bergen Philharmonic
Nordheim: The Tempest - Suite from the Ballet / Gardner, Bergen Philharmonic
The Bergen Philharmonic and Chief Conductor Edward Gardner present Arne Nordheim's "The Tempest" (Suite from the Ballet). Arne Nordheim was Norway’s most significant and respected composer until his death in 2010, and one of the few figures in contemporary western music who proved himself able to move beyond traditional harmonic relationships while maintaining a distinct ability to communicate widely through his striking, physical music.
Mozart: Piano Concertos Nos. 23 & 14 / Lazić, de Vriend, Bergen Philharmonic
A new, great project by Challenge Classics and Jan Willem de Vriend. A new, inspiring collaboration with a first-rate pianist, Dejan Lazić, and one of European best orchestras, the Bergen Philharmonic. This is the first of three CDs devoted to Mozart’s Piano Concertos. The project aims to display Mozart’s different styles and technique. All Cadenzas and Lead-Ins are composed by Dejan Lazic himself.
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: Olav Trygvason / Orchestral Songs
Elgar: King Olaf, The Banner of Saint George / Davis, Bergen
Reviews:
What a nice idea it was to have a Norwegian choir and orchestra performing English music about a Norse hero. The combined Norwegian choirs sing very well indeed in both works, and the Bergen Philharmonic plays with verve and distinction. Sir Andrew Davis is just the man for these assignments.
– MusicWeb International
There's nothing stilted about Elgar's music: it crackles with confident vitality...the Norwegian choruses respond with crisp vigor and superb English diction, only faintly (and appropriately) Scandinavian-tinged. Davis's expansive conducting and the excellent Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra bring out Elgar's vivid orchestral textures.
– BBC Music Magazine
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
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
Scriabin, Medtner: Piano Concertos / Sudbin, Litton
– BBC Music Magazine
Yevgeny Sudbin has already demonstrated his great affinity with the music of the composers united here: in 2007, his Scriabin solo recital (BIS-1568) garnered universal acclaim – ‘the most well-chosen, brilliantly played single-disc selection of Scriabin's piano music currently available’ wrote ClassicsToday.com – and his recordings of Nikolai Medtner’s first and second piano concertos (BIS-1588 and BIS-1728) were likewise widely admired, with the first disc receiving a Gramophone Award nomination and the second being dubbed an ‘Essential Recording’ in BBC Music Magazine. For the present disc, Sudbin has written his own liner notes, stating with conviction his opinion that both concertos are ‘absolute masterworks – unjustly underperformed and constantly underappreciated’. He goes on to make a fascinating comparison of the two ‘radically different’ works, composed by near contemporaries, but 45 years apart: Scriabin wrote his one piano concerto in 1896 at the age of 24, while Medtner began his Third Concerto in 1940, at a ripe 60. As Sudbin points out, it would be natural to expect the later concerto to be more ‘modern’, especially given the radical advances that took place during this period. Nothing could be further from the truth, however: ever the visionary, the young Scriabin wrote a concerto which may appear relatively conventional compared to his later works, but still sounds more experimental than Medtner’s Third. With great empathy for, and insights into each composer, Yevgeny Sudbin takes on the great challenges – musical as well as technical – posed by their two works, with the eminent support of the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra, which under chief conductor Andrew Litton has repeatedly proven itself in Russian repertoire by Rachmaninov, Prokofiev and Stravinsky.
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.
