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Stravinsky: Le sacre du printemps & L'oiseau de feu / Jansons, Bavarian Radio Symphony
Before the First World War, especially for the famous ballet ensemble "Les Ballets Russes", one of the most important dance companies of the 20th century, and its impresario Sergei Diaghilev, Igor Stravinsky composed the first three of his great ballet music works for large orchestra, indeed, the most important of his ballets in general: "L'oiseau de feu" (The Firebird) in 1910, "Petrushka" in 1911, and "Le sacre du printemps" (The Rite of Spring) in 1913. The first of these ranks as a pioneering work of the early 20th century – and the third, regarded as a key work of 20th-century music due to its extraordinary rhythmic and tonal structures, can both be experienced on this new release from BR-KLASSIK - in live recordings with the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks under its chief conductor Mariss Jansons, and in masterly interpretations. Diaghilev, a formative figure in 20th-century ballet, had founded the Ballets Russes ensemble in 1909 in Paris, where it first performed before moving to Monte Carlo in 1911. The first performance of Stravinsky's "Firebird" took place on June 25, 1910 at the Paris Opera House, and "Le sacre du printemps" premiered on May 29, 1913 in the newly-built Théâtre des Champs-Élysées - a day that went down in history as one of the great artistic scandals of the 20th century. The furious protests from the Parisian public combined with the highly negative critical reviews all ended up making Stravinsky famous. His truly futuristic music has now established itself internationally and is an integral part of concert programs, and one can still hear why it so enraged audiences over 100 years ago. (“The Firebird" can be heard in Stravinsky’s ballet version of 1945.)
Verdi: Luisa Miller / Rebeka, Scheurle, Repušić, Munich Radio Orchestra
Ivan Repušić made his debut as Chief Conductor of the Münchner Rundfunkorchester on September 24, 2017 at the city’s Prinzregententheater with a concert performance of Giuseppe Verdi's opera "Luisa Miller". The Latvian soprano Marina Rebeka – the orchestra’s Artist in Residence during the 2017/18 season – was successfully engaged for the title role of the tragic opera, based on Friedrich Schiller's "Kabale und Liebe". This highlight of the Munich music scene has now been released by BR-KLASSIK. Verdi's masterpiece was written during the year 1849 in Paris and Busseto, completed in Naples, and first performed there on December 8, 1849 at the city's Teatro San Carlo. Schiller's tragedy tells the story of the calamitous love of the nobleman Ferdinand for the musician's daughter Luisa Miller, who falls victim to a terrible court intrigue that ultimately drives both to their deaths. To turn the play into an opera Verdi worked intensively with his librettist Salvadore Cammarano; both men were fascinated by Schiller's tableau-like dramaturgy, which matched their own ideas of an "epic drama". The tragedy was given three acts, entitled "Amore" (Love), "Intrigo" (Intrigue) and "Veleno" (Poison). After its successful premiere, the work soon established itself and has remained a fixed part of the international opera repertoire to this day. In this concert performance at Munich’s Prinzregententheater, Marina Rebeka made her role debut as Luisa Miller. Marina Rebeka sings the challenging role with technical perfection, giving it a sparkling vocal splendor.
REVIEW:
This recording can’t quite oust my personal favorite recording, Fausto Cleva’s RCA set with Moffo and Bergonzi, but Marina Rebeka is a much more dramatic Luisa and the recording is worth hearing for her contribution alone—and there is so much more to admire. Inveterate Verdians should definitely lend their ears to this latest Luisa Miller, and those contemplating their first recording of this hidden away masterpiece could do much worse than starting here.
–MusicWeb International
Mahler: Symphony No. 5 (Live)
Beethoven: Klavierkonzert Nr. 3 c-Moll Op. 37 - Sonate f-Mol
Mozart: Flute Concerto - Oboe Concerto
Beethoven: Symphonies Nos. 7 & 8; Widmann: Con Brio / Jansons, BRSO
From a 2012 live performance in Tokyo's Suntory Hall the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks (Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra) conducted by Mariss Jansons embarks on a program presenting the 7th and 8th symphonies of Beethoven along with Jörg Widmann’s 2008 piece “Con Brio” commissioned by Jansons with the stipulation to use these Beethoven symphonies as basis and influence. Thus this deeply symbiotic collection unfolds, played with flair and great integrity within the fantastic acoustics of the hall.
Bach: Christmas Oratorio / Dijkstra, Harnisch, Vondung, Schmitt, Immler
Rachmaninov: The Bells & Symphonic Dances / Jansons, Bavarian Radio Symphony
Very much a Cinderella work, The Bells, which the composer described at different times as a choral symphony and also as a cantata, deserves wider circulation and certainly rewards repeated hearing. Rachmaninov was fired up to write the work following receipt of an anonymous text in Rome which he assumed was an original work by the Russian poet Konstantin Balmont. The text was in fact Balmont’s own free adaptation of the poem ‘The Bells’ by Edgar Allan Poe. Bells have a special significance for Russian people and one might imagine that for Rachmaninov the sound of bells in his Russian homeland evoked a bittersweet range of emotions, from intense joy to mourning. Various bell sounds are contained in Rachmaninov’s scoring: sleigh-bells, church bells, alarm bells, marriage and funeral bells. This is a striking live performance by the Chor und Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks under Jansons, supported by a fine trio of Russian soloists. In the opening movement - ‘The Silver Sleigh Bells’ - the playing conveys a crisp, wintry chill together with commitment and urgency. Singing with vitality and clarity, tenor Oleg Dolgov makes a considerable impression. In the movement ‘The Mellow Wedding Bells’, the music takes on a mysterious, rather sensuous quality with soprano Tatiana Pavlovskaya displaying clarity and an unswerving approach to the text. In ‘The Loud Alarum Bells’, marked presto, the chorus and orchestra convey a heavy sense of tension and near-angst before a more positive tone develops. The baritone Alexey Markov, in the Finale, entitled ‘The Mournful Iron Bells’, intones splendidly and convincingly the grave yet hauntingly affecting text. In the substantial part for the cor anglais, there is some lovely playing - warm and mellifluous. Inspiring and powerful are the two words that best describe this reading from Jansons and his Bavarian players. Worthy of praise, too, is Simon Rattle’s outstanding live 2012 Philharmonie, Berlin account with the Rundfunkchor Berlin and the Berliner Philharmoniker and a satisfying trio of soloists on Warner. As with Jansons’ account, Rattle’s coupling is also the Symphonic Dances. Admirable, also, is the exciting and committed 1979 account from the RSFSR Yurlov Academic Russian Choir and USSR Academic Symphony Orchestra under Yevgeni Svetlanov. Originally released on Melodiya, I have the Regis reissue. Worthy of consideration, too, is the finely judged 2000 Moscow account from the Moscow State Chamber Choir and Russian National Orchestra conducted by Mikhail Pletnev on Deutsche Grammophon.
After finally settling in the USA in 1939, Rachmaninov completed the Symphonic Dances, his final orchestral, work at Long Island, New York in 1940. Delighted with the score, the composer commented, “I don’t know how it happened, it must have been my last spark.” Rachmaninov was certainly in a highly reflective mood, citing quotations from some of his earlier works as well as including the Dies irae motif in the finale. Jansons and his players clearly revel in the brilliant orchestration. In the opening movement, Non Allegro, Jansons provides playing of potent drama as well as strong rhythmic impetus and a weighty percussion section. The affecting lyrical middle section is beautifully played, with the solo saxophone part especially notable. It is marked Andante con Moto (Tempo di valse) and, in Jansons’ hands, the waltz rhythms are imbued with an undertow of melancholy and a sense of near despair. The colourful woodwind and brass figures and pleasingly unified strings are a constant delight. In the Finale, the sumptuous playing from the Bavarians is quite outstanding, conveying a strong element of brooding and struggle. Jansons’ control of dynamics and transitions is striking here, together with strong and committed playing in the concluding section. Jansons’ conducts a riveting account of the Symphonic Dances, then, convincingly performed with character, passion and compelling momentum. It can stand comparison with the best recordings and probably even surpasses them. Simon Rattle’s powerful 2010 Philharmonie, Berlin recording with the Berliner Philharmoniker on Warner is certainly equal to Eugene Ormandy’s passionate and powerful 1960 Cleveland Hall, Philadelphia account with the Philadelphia Orchestra on Sony Classical. Other recordings to consider are headed by the excellent 2008/09 recording, full of character, played by the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra under Vasily Petrenko on Avie. There is much to enjoy in the recordings by the Berliner Philharmoniker under Lorin Maazel from 1983 on Deutsche Grammophon and by André Previn conducting the London Symphony Orchestra in 1974 on EMI Classics, both of which are splendidly performed and recorded.
Jansons has recorded both works at live concerts in the renowned acoustic of Herkulessaal, Munich, which the sound engineers have utilised to stunning effect, providing first class clarity and balance. Audience applause has been taken out and there is no extraneous noise to worry about. In the booklet the essay ‘Legacy of a Lost Homeland’ written by Larissa Kowal-Wolk is both readable and informative.
– MusicWeb International (Michael Cookson)
Mozart: Klavierkonzerte No 22 & 23 / Barenboim, Kubelik, Bavarian Radio Symphony
MOZART Piano Concertos: No. 22, K 482; No. 23, K 488 • Daniel Barenboim (pn); Rafael Kubelík, cond; Bavarian RSO • BR 900709 (58:48)
Twenty-eight year old Daniel Barenboim and the esteemed conductor Rafael Kubelík are heard here in two of Mozart’s most profound and appealing piano concertos. Twenty years later, in 1990, Barenboim recorded these concertos with the Berlin Philharmonic, this time as both pianist and conductor. Between these years, Murray Perahia in his early 30s, as both pianist and conductor, recorded these concertos (in the mid 1970s) with the English Chamber Orchestra, and elder statesman Rudolf Serkin recorded them (in the mid 1980s) with Claudio Abbado and the London Symphony Orchestra. Barenboim, while continuing a busy schedule as a pianist, eventually became principal conductor or music director of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and later of the Berlin Philharmonic. Perahia continues, on occasion, to conduct chamber orchestras from the keyboard. Serkin never, to my knowledge, served as conductor. These facts are a source for interesting performance comparisons of these concertos. I am wary of the practice of conducting from the keyboard when the orchestral demands are equal to those of the piano or of any other keyboard instrument, and these two concertos make such equal demands.
The first and third movements of the E? concerto (K 482) on this CD are played at rather fast tempos, producing an inappropriate tension and a consequent masking of detail, robbing the listener of the ability to savor the beauty of Mozart’s creation. The exception is the andantino cantabile middle section of the third movement, where the tempo is suitable. The second-movement variations, however, are exceptionally well played, but the thrilling effect of the right-hand C Minor against the left-hand C Major (starting at the legato at bar 13 from the end) in the final variation is not discernible. Barenboim’s 20-year-later effort as pianist-conductor is much more successful, principally because of his more relaxed tempos. The C Minor/C Major effect in the final variation, however, remains hidden. Perahia as pianist-conductor produces a more satisfying K 482 than either of Barenboim’s efforts by using not only relaxed tempos but more effective phrasing. The C Minor/C Major effect in the final variation is no longer hidden at Perahia’s command. Unfortunately, Perahia’s decision to use Hummel’s cadenzas in the first and third movements was not a wise one. The Serkin/Abbado K 482 is still my favorite because of its very many virtues. Serkin’s characteristically deliberate tempos benefit this concerto by allowing the listener to hear detail not easily discovered, even in Perahia’s fine account. Abbado’s ability to allow inner part-writing to be clearly heard matches Serkin’s attention to detail. The C Minor/C Major effect in the final variation is crystal clear, and as a result an ecstatic experience. Bars 181–182 (shortly before the andantino cantabile ) in the final movement pass unremarkably from both Barenboim and Perahia, but Serkin plays them with an agogic that allows accenting of the first note of each of the four occurrences of four 16th-note groups. The result (at 4:00 in the Serkin recording) is magic.
The A-Major Concerto (K 488) fares better than its companion concerto under Barenboim/Kubelík and under Barenboim-“squared.” The more relaxed first-movement tempo of Barenboim-squared is initially preferable to that of Barenboim/Kubelík, but the latter has the distinct advantage of more discernible orchestral detail. But Barenboim’s more relaxed tempo in his dual role eventually becomes a bit sluggish. The plaintive F?-Minor Adagio has Barenboim at his best in both recordings, but Kubelík’s independence as conductor produces a more convincing emotional effect. The final movement is a Barenboim/Kubelík triumph in terms of the exuberance demanded by the music and the orchestral detail provided by the conductor. Especially noteworthy are the important bassoon passages, which are never masked, and the three appearances of the passage borrowed from the first movement of the B?-Concerto (K 456), which are gloriously bouncy. The final movement under Barenboim-squared is too subdued—too square, as it were. My preferences for the A-Major Concerto are Perahia-squared (but never square) and Serkin/Abbado. The former is the master of phrase shaping and the latter the master of attention to detail.
This is a disc worth having because Barenboim and Kubelík have something unique to say about these concertos. My preferences may lie elsewhere, but hidden details like bassoon passages and C Minor/C Major superposition are revealed enough by familiarity with the music to free them from complete hiding.
FANFARE: Burton Rothleder
Barenboim first collaborated with Kubelík when the pianist was sixteen. That encounter was in Australia. And K488 was the first concerto he played in public, back when he was eight. The conjunction of that concerto and the Czech conductor comes in this release from BR Klassik, which presents a collaboration made in June 1970 in Munich where Kubelík was music director of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra.
This was a compatible meeting of minds. Barenboim is on record as having admired the older man for his seriousness and vitality, and it certainly sounds to have been a congenial coming together of kindred spirits. Kubelík ensures that the string weight in K488 is not too saturated but remains clarified, if not exactly spruce. Meanwhile Barenboim is characteristically attentive in his exchanges with the wind principals – the warmly supple dialogue with the first flute is a case in point. The first movement cadenza is conspicuously well played but contains melancholic introspections that are fully realised in the central movement – the veiled anticipations lead with inexorable logic to the deepening expression that follows. What remains laudable is that this expression comes at no cost to the architectural continuity of the music making. Instead the clarinets offer reprieve in their flowing episodes and the grandeur of the melancholy is adroitly realised by a confluence of soloists, alert orchestral colours and detailed etching of rhythms and contours from the conductor. Released from this spirit, the finale explores more bucolic emotions – bubbling lower winds, clarity and rounded ebullience from Barenboim and if the recording somewhat favours, as so often, the soloist - meaning that some winds writing can be swamped - this deficiency doesn’t materially limit one’s appreciation of a fine traversal, a unanimous one moreover, expressively and intellectually.
These features apply equally to the companion concerto performed here, the Concerto in E, K482. The Military-Janissary quality is welcomingly celebrated by Kubelík, the crisp chording having more than a touch of imperial majesty about them. Barenboim evokes something of his hero Edwin Fischer’s simplicity of expression. His excellently conceived cadenza playing impresses and so too does the austerity and interior expression of the slow movement. The reminiscent reverie cultivated in the central panel of the finale attests to the probing introspection of these collaborations.
Naturally Barenboim’s concerto cycle with the ECO will be the first port of call for collectors of the commercial discography from around this time. But these almost contemporaneous live traversals are of lasting value given the assured and sensitive direction of Kubelík.
-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International
Beethoven, Mozart: Piano Concertos / Argerich, Ozawa, Jochum
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
Brahms: Die Symphonien / Jansons, Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra
The beauty of Brahmsian symphonic creativity comes to full fruition in these live recordings from the Musikverein in Vienna and the Herkulessaal in Munich under the direction of Mariss Jansons.
Part: Te Deum / Dijkstra, Bavarian Radio Chorus

Hardly any other contemporary composer has succeeded in returning sacred music to such a firm position in the awareness of a larger audience, even outside the realm of religious services, as has Arvo Pärt from Estonia. To commemorate Arvo Pärt’s 80th birthday in the autumn of 2015, the Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks under the direction of Peter Dijsktra is releasing a cross-section of the Estonian composer’s sacred music.
Mozart: Mass in C Minor, KV 427 / Arman, Bavarian Radio Choir, Berlin Akademie fur Alte Musik
Written in 1782, Mozart's Mass in C minor - although incomplete – ranks as one of the outstanding Mass settings in European music history. The very recent reconstruction/completion of the Mass by Clemens Kemme in the spring of 2018 confines itself to the original sources, avoiding any arbitrary additions. The work was recorded in this critically acclaimed version for the Bayerischer Rundfunk during the summer of 2018, and conducted by Howard Arman. This album is thus the first recording of the definitive version of this new and intelligently edited reconstruction of Mozart's Mass in C minor. An introduction to the work is also included, enabling this masterpiece to be approached from new perspectives. In Vienna in the summer of 1782, Mozart started writing a new Mass despite having apparently received no commission to do so. On August 4, 1782 he married Constanze Mozart, and from his correspondence it appears that he had made himself a promise to “have a newly-composed mass performed in Salzburg if he brought her there as his wife.” The work may have been performed on October 26, 1783 in St. Peter's Church in Salzburg, with Constanze as the soprano soloist; concrete evidence of such a performance is however lacking. Nevertheless, the Mass can probably be seen as a kind of votive offering for Constanze. The fact that the work was not completed may be due to the church music reforms implemented by the Emperor Joseph II, who preferred sacred music to be performed on a smaller scale. In 1785, Mozart eventually reworked the “Kyrie" and "Gloria" from the mass for his cantata Davide penitente.
Haydn: Die Schöpfung (The Creation)
Mahler: Symphony No. 6 / Harding, Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra
Mahler: Symphony No 7 In E Minor / Jansons, Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra
A performance that emphasises every detail.
By accident or design, two high profile recordings of Mahler’s Seventh, both conducted by Mariss Jansons, have been released in recent months. His Oslo Philharmonic recording on Simax (PSC1271) has garnered praise in some quarters, but is going to have to beat the odds to compete with this one, which sports both SACD sound and the revered Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra. Jansons uses a new edition of the score, prepared by the International Gustav Mahler Gesellschaft, and whatever its innovations might be, he directs a performance that emphasises every detail, as if striving to make audible each minute amendment and correction.
The approach sits well with the superior audio quality. On one level, the recording functions as a catalogue of fascinating orchestral details, obscured in previous recordings by poorer orchestral standards and more homogenised sound reproduction. But it is not just the details that make Mahler’s Seventh an unusual work. Jansons also brings his interpretive clarity to the symphony’s unique structure. Other conductors - and I’m thinking of Bernstein and Rattle in particular - often treat the work’s sprawling structure and wayward progressions as problems that need fixing or covering up. Their methods include faster tempos, less rubato, and emphasis on the excitement of the louder passages over the quieter meditative ones, so as not to lose the audience. Jansons takes the opposite approach. He does not apologise for anything he finds in the score. Rather, he goes to great lengths to ensure that every passage and every counterpoint is clearly articulated, skilfully phrased and propelled as if with an inner momentum.
The result demonstrates just what a revolutionary work the Seventh Symphony is, with its incongruous dance episodes, its evocative orchestration (guitar, mandolin, cowbell), its precisely notated string portamento, and its dizzying climaxes. Tempos are almost always on the slow side, which again emphasises the details at the possible expense of the whole. Adhering to Mahler’s notated rubato gives the composer’s structural thinking its due. It is found wanting but Jansons never goes so far as to offer a purely sectional structure as an alternative; the immaculate details are always part of a symphonic argument, however flawed.
While the overall sound quality is extremely high, some sections of the orchestra benefit more than others. The string sound is particularly impressive: the intensity of the high violins, the presence and timbral variety of the violas and the agogic weight of the cellos and basses. It may well be that the most radical aspect of Mahler’s orchestration in the Seventh is his use of the strings. Its sound-world relies on a complex vocabulary of counter-intuitive doublings, chord spacings and bowings. The combination of high quality audio, world-class playing and forensic detail from the podium allows each of these curiosities to shine through. Things are slightly less clear from the back of the stage, and the percussion in particular often seems muffled, or at least not given the clarity that a studio recording would have been able to ensure.
Those, like me, who are more familiar with British and American orchestras performing the work may be surprised by the central European brass sound, which can be quite nasal and vibrato-laden. Even the bass trombone solo in the first movement has a pronounced wobble. It is an upward trajectory throughout the work for the brass. The opening solo for Tenorhorn in Bb’ - presumably a Wagner tuba here rather than a euphonium - has a rich tone, but amazingly vie with the woodwind. The trumpets in the first movement struggle to synchronise in a number of important passages, and the horns are on the brash side. However, the horns more than redeem themselves in the solos of the second movement, while the trumpets come into their own in the finale.
In fact, the finale is the best part of this recording. The rondo structure withstands Jansons’ emphasis on detail better than the more complex structures of the earlier movements. His loyalty to Mahler’s notated rubato pays dividends, as there are many surprises in the tempo changes that would be lost in a more four-square reading. It remains a long and challenging movement, but Janson’s balances the expansiveness with a focused orchestral sound and a clear sense of direction. The result, in the closing pages, is a paradoxical sense of inevitability, the music’s goal apparently preordained, despite its remaining unconventional and unpredictable right up to the very last chord.
Although I have mixed feelings about this recording, it has a great deal to commend it. The standard of the audio is sufficiently high to appeal to the SACD buyers who would consider it for this reason alone. I would also recommend the disc to those who have heard the work and think they know it. I was in that boat and found myself continually surprised by Jansons’ many revelations. To those completely unfamiliar with the symphony, I would have reservations about recommending this recording, if only because the interpretation is so radical. But there is an admirable honesty about every interpretive decision Jansons makes, and by highlighting the many unusual details of the score, he demonstrates just what an innovative and unusual work it is. These are not the interpretive priorities of most performers approaching Mahler’s most problematic symphony, but Jansons’ advocacy, and his multiple recordings, may yet persuade other conductors to stop making excuses for it.
-- Gavin Dixon, MusicWeb International
Beethoven: Freiheit über alles
Joy to the World / Arman, Reiss, Bavarian Radio Choir, Munich Radio Orchestra
Stravinsky: Petruschka; Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition / Jansons, BRSO
Two well-known masterpieces of Russian music complement each other perfectly on the latest release of Mariss Jansons and the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks. Recorded November 2014 (Mussorgsky) and April 2015 (Stravinsky) at concerts in the intimate dimensions of Herkulessaal of the Munich Residenz and in the Philharmonie im Gasteig. With the 1947 revised version of Stravinsky's “Petrushka”, a revision ultimately preferred by Stravinsky himself and here featuring the piano of the prolific Lukas Maria Kuen, along with the 1922 orchestral version of Mussorgsky's "Pictures at an Exhibition" memorably and engagingly transcribed by Maurice Ravel elevating the piece to the pantheon of one of the most familiar of all classical works.
Beethoven: Symphony No. 9
Mahler: Symphony No. 1
The 2007 recording that has now been reissued by BR-Klassik or Mahler’s First Symphony, with the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks under its chief conductor Mariss Jansons, can be regarded as an album premiere- in that this recording has only so far been available as a bonus release forming part of the audio biography of Gustav Mahler “World and Dream.” (BR Klassik)
Bernstein: Trouble In Tahiti, Symphonic Dances From West Side Story / Schirmer, Munich Radio Orchestra
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
Shostakovich: Symphony No. 7 / Jansons, Bavarian Radio Symphony
Dmitri Shostakovich was one of the most important composers of the 20th century. With his works - most notably his fifteen symphonies, which took Late Romantic music and transferred it to the modern age – he has shaped the repertoire. His aesthetic is determined by the impact of the Second World War and also by the political conditions in the Soviet Union under Stalin. Forced to work for the dictator, he also had to make numerous concessions to him. It was in the war year of 1941 that Shostakovich composed his Symphony No. 7 in C major, opus 60. It comes in the approximate middle of his oeuvre and was named the “Leningrad” symphony because Shostakovich dedicated it to his native city (today’s St. Petersburg). The marching theme in the first movement was composed even before the outbreak of the German-Soviet war, in around 1939 or 1940. He wrote further movements in Leningrad, during its siege by German troops from September 8, 1941 onwards, and finally completed the symphony in Kuibyshev (Samara) on the Volga, having been evacuated from the war-torn city together with his family on October 1, 1941. It was there on March 5, 1942 that the symphony received its world premiere, performed by the similarly evacuated orchestra of Moscow’s Bolshoi Theatre under the direction of Samuil Samossud. The Moscow premiere on March 27 took place in perilous circumstances, but even an air raid alert could not convince the audience to go to the shelters, so captivated were they by the music. The music has retained its fascination to this day, and the Seventh Symphony is considered Shostakovich's best-known work. Mariss Jansons, who himself ranks as a specialist in the Slavic repertoire as well as the symphonic music of the 19th and 20th centuries, has tackled this masterpiece on numerous occasions. This performance, released for the first time, was recorded at concerts on February 11 and 12, 2016 at the Philharmonie in Munich’s Gasteig. Here, under Jansons' baton, the musicians of the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks interpret Shostakovich's Seventh Symphony as a shattering testimony to the epoch in which it was written as well as a profound expression of our present age. The live recording of those concerts is now being released by BR-KLASSIK in an exemplary interpretation of one of the most important symphonic works of the 20th century.
Hartmann, K.A.: Simplicius Simplicissimus
Schubert: The Symphonies / Maazel, Bavarian Radio
Schubert’s last two symphonies, with their grander gestures and grander orchestral palette, actually sound just a bit small-scale in these performances, and I think that reflects an interpretive trend rather than any outright lack on the part of conductor or orchestra. Basically, these are excellent readings, fully idiomatic, without an ounce of extraneous rubato or other grandstanding gestures that conductors often impose on this music, especially the Great C Major. The comparative lightness of texture in Maazel’s interpretation recalls recent performances I’ve heard by the likes of the Northern Sinfonia under Thomas Zehetmair (Avie) and the Budapest Festival Orchestra under Ivan Fischer (Channel Classics). A far cry from one of my favorites of another era, Georg Solti leading a hefty Vienna Philharmonic (Decca). Both approaches seem valid to me. Certainly, Maazel brings great nobility to this score; the sense of momentum with which he invests the last movement makes this the worthy high point of the set.
The Bavarian orchestra plays with expected fervor but with great discipline as well; in fact, you could be forgiven if in a blind test you thought these performances were set down in a studio—at least before you heard the applause at the end of each symphony. And except for the usual balance problem here and there, the recordings are quite good. There are a number of fine recordings of the eight Schubert symphonies available; I now count Maazel’s among them.
—Lee Passarella, Audiophile Audition
