LEONARD BERNSTEIN - THE ROYAL

There are pages here to rival even Bernstein. Come the finale, Slatkin well and truly throws down the gauntlet: his "Fanfare" is impressive, and within bounds—the right side of credibility— but it's the contrapuntal jubilance, the dance of life at the heart of the movement that really begins to set the adrenalin flowing. And nowhere more so than at the moment when we see this raunchy music for what it really is: counterpoint in search of its theme—namely, the "Fanfare" itself. Slatkin forges a toughly syncopated climax in its wake, driving home the halting dissonance which by now seems somehow inevitable—a moment of truth. The most moving pages of all then ensue, and Slatkin is still unassailable weaving Copland's piccolo-led tracery (woodwind, harps, piano, celeste) towards a tremendous peroration. Ihe anvil and xylophone hammer through terrifically at the close, heavy brass, bass drum and tam-tam ensuring a formidable pay-off.

So where are the drawbacks? Are there any? One or two: I am not entirely happy with the sound. Warmth, perspective and weight (handsome bass extension) are not a problem, but there is what can only be described as a curiously 'covered', unfocused quality which makes for a degree of opaqueness, particularly in the more densely scored tuttis. You need plenty of volume for the best effect. Not that Bernstein's live recording (DG, coupled with Quiet City) was ideal. Best for sound so far has been the 1987 EMI Mata/ Dallas Symphony Orchestra disc (nla). Sound apart, though, I don't think Slatkin quite catches the sheer audacity of the scherzo. Bernstein is second-to-none here: the raucous trumpet cackles and side-drum rim-shots—their effect in the Slatkin is somewhat muted, though he does pull off a swaggering climax as the trio tune reappears unexpectedly in canon. Again, though, I should like to hear it in more sharply focused sound.

Slatkin's first and third movements seem to me ideal. He certainly honours Copland's instruction "with simple expression" as the New England/ Quaker hymnody unfolds at the outset (Bernstein is inclined to burden these bars with 'significance'). The Saint Louis orchestra play very sweetly indeed as the words dolce, sonore and intensivo begin to appear on the page. The archlike superstructure is surely drawn, its two climactic edifices like great pillars of support. In the slow movement, Bernstein achieves a greater sense of dream-like remoteness in the opening bars though Slatkin is by far the subtler of the two as solo flute spirits us into nostalgic reverie. The texture is gorgeously light and airy, even as the dancing grows more boisterous (Bernstein does rather rush his fences here), and Slatkin's control of the long, slow wind-down (the dream fading gradually into the deepest recesses of the mind) is masterly. I only wish he had held the pause on the final diminuendo in the strings just a shade longer (lunga, Copland marks) so as to heighten the moment at which the flutes so magically announce both "Fanfare" and finale. This is a performance of real distinction, though. Bernstein's burning conviction, his unique electricity, set him apart, but there's always room for more than one view.

Slatkin's coupling might sway some collectors. Copland's own 1966 CBS recording of Music for a Great City, his reworking (for the LSO's sixtiethbirthday season) of the score for Jack Garfine's 1961 film Something Wild, has not yet resurfaced on CD. But Slatkin's reading is a winner: gritty and urgent in Copland's suitably frantic evocation of the New York City "Skyline" with its jazz and latino explosions, not least the movement "Subway Jam"—a kind of angry Rumba, fractured brass and percussion to the fore. "Night Thoughts" is Edward Hopper/Quiet City territory: now languid, now anxious, now wistful—a telling reminder of just how well Copland understood the soul of both rural and urban America.

-- Gramophone [2/1991]

Copland: Orchestral Works

This concert film made in the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in Los Angeles in 1976 captures a memorable performance conducted by the doyen of American composers, Aaron Copland (1900–1990). It includes some of his greatest and most attractive music, from the patriotic flourish of Fanfare for the Common Man and the spirited orchestral fantasy El Salón México, to the colloquial warmth of his suite from the opera The Tender Land. Of particular importance is the collaboration with the great Benny Goodman in the masterwork he commissioned and premiered, the Clarinet Concerto.

REVIEWS:

Copland was a precise, energetic, and alert conductor, smiling happily at the orchestra after each piece and enjoying himself enormously in the performance of the Hoedown from the ballet Rodeo. It’s a great watch, and a rewarding listen as well.

– Gramophone

Aaron Copland had an easy presence on the rostrum, totally free of histrionics, while getting a ready response from the Los Angeles Philharmonic. I guess the timpanist would have liked a retake of the opening Fanfare for the Common Man where he had intonation problems, but elsewhere the orchestra are immaculate, Copland’s face displaying his total pleasure in each of the performances. The recorded sound is very good for that period, with a reasonably good internal balance, while visually it has sharp-edged colors.

– David’s Review Corner (David Denton

If Copland’s own recordings of his music have the warmth of a soft summer night, those by Leonard Bernstein convey the blazing heat of noon. In his later remakes of several of these scores for Deutsche Grammophon, Bernstein exhibited a tendency toward overly nuanced readings. But his earlier accounts with the New York Philharmonic, recorded by CBS in the late 1950s and early 1960s, are still incomparable in their vitality and impetus. Bernstein’s way with the Western ballets is exuberantly personal and persuasive. He had the ability to move between delicacy and brashness, always getting the gestures right, and he delivers magical characterizations of both scores. The Phiharmonic’s playing, while sometimes a bit raw, is confident and rhythmically secure; there is certainly nothing to apologize for here.

There is a wonderful sense of immediacy to Bernstein’s account of the Appalachian Spring Suite, in which the New Yorkers give a virtuosic account of themselves, playing in a rhythmically incisive fashion that puts Copland’s account with the London Symphony in the shade. The couplings are a mixed bag, however. Bernstein always had the measure of El Salon Mexico, and gives a rousing account of it here. But the so-called Fanfare for the Common Man is lifted from his recording of the Third Symphony; its beginning is not the same as that of the real fanfare. Both recordings have been wonderfully remastered by their original producer, John McClure, and have excellent presence and a palpable sense of atmosphere in the quiet pages. – Ted Libbey, author of The NPR Guide to Building a Classical CD Collection.

from Daniel Felsenfeld's Liner Notes:

Copland seemed to have two separate sides, the populist and the aesthete. The Sonata for Violin and Piano seems to fall in between the two, being jaunty and full of good tunes, but also based on sophisticated harmonies and unorthodox musical schemes. The piece is dedicated to Lieutenant Harry H. Dunham, a close friend of Copland’s who died in battle, and the date of its première (17th January 1944, with violinist Ruth Posselt and the composer at the piano) shows that war was probably very much on the pacifist Copland’s mind. Cast in three movements with traditional titles (Andante, Lento and Allegretto giusto) this is truly a neo-classical work, but it is also pure Copland; as with everything, he took what he needed of the theoretical conceits, but ultimately composed to his instincts.

Two Pieces for violin and piano, which Copland wrote in the mid 1920s for himself and violinist Samuel Dushkin to play in a Boulanger-sponsored concert in Paris, is a chance to see Copland playing with new ideas, including a new fascination with jazz (this is also the period he was writing his heavily jazz-influenced Piano Concerto). Much of this music would be mined for later scores, but they do hold interest on their own. This is music that is bitonal (in more than one key at once), undoubtedly influenced by Darius Milhaud, whom Copland esteemed highly. In the Ukelele Serenade Copland is having a good time trying to make the fiddle sound like something it is not.

Copland’s piano trio Vitebsk, one of his few "Jewish" works, is here arranged for violin and piano. It is a startling piece, full of wailing dissonances, even using microtones, notes which fall in between the cracks of piano keys, not of the "Western" well-tempered system. It is based on The Dybuk, a Jewish folk-tale, which also fascinated George Gershwin and Leonard Bernstein, about spirits and doomed love in a small Hasidic community, and Copland hoped the music would, in his own words, "...reflect the harshness and drama of Jewish life in White Russia." It is, therefore, a lean, almost angry work, with many moods contained in its taut single movement.

Dipping even further into the well of Copland’s juvenilia, Two Preludes for Violin and Piano are attempts to translate poetry into music, as Liszt had done in his tone poems. The poets in whom Copland found inspiration were Witter Bynner and Wallace Stevens, both contemporaneous and American. Here we see the seed of the Copland yet to come, the off-kilter rhythms, the stark harmonies, and the sparseness of texture. The titles offer their own explanations; these are musical moment pieces, composed to a single-focused and specific idea of mood.

Originally scored for flute and piano, Copland’s Duo was re-scored by the composer in 1977 at the request of Robert Mann, the violinist for the Juilliard Quartet and Copland enthusiast. The "all-but" sonata was therefore transcribed into this version, which took a good deal less time than the composition - Copland worked for three years on the Duo, commissioned by William Kinkcaid. The famous flautist wanted something that would work "...like a sonata," and Copland certainly delivered the goods, offering a tightly formed work in three movements. The second movement in particular, the composition of which took most of the three years, evokes, in the composer’s own words "a certain mood that I connect with myself - a rather sad and wistful one, I suppose."

The ballet Rodeo was a divisive moment in Copland’s career, a complete smash hit, and yet the piece that managed to alienate him from much of his community. Copland, they thought, had sold out. Copland even incorporates some memorable American folk-tunes. It is a cowboy romance, full of wranglers and cowgirls, and culminating in a hoedown. The choreography and scenario were by Agnes de Mille, who, on the strength of her work on Rodeo, was hired to choreograph a new musical by Rodgers and Hammerstein called Oklahoma!, and Copland composed dutifully to her vision, though he preferred his idea for a ballet about Ellis Island. The 1942 première at the Metropolitan Opera was an enormous success, with a standing ovation. The suite from the work is one of Copland’s most recognizable achievements, with hundreds of performances and countless wonderful recordings.

Daniel Felsenfeld

This is another collection of American classics that deserves the highest praise. With exemplary playing, singing and an acoustic to match this is plainly indispensable.

Thankfully this isn’t the umpteenth recording of Appalachian Spring but a collection of lesser-known Copland. As always this music is quintessentially American, the suite from his opera The Tender Land, the bluesy piano concerto and the Old American Songs, the latter in choral arrangements. Appropriately enough the orchestra is the Illinois-based Elgin Symphony, which has embarked on an ambitious project called In Search of Our American Voice. Helping them in this endeavour are the St. Charles Singers, a multi-talented chamber choir founded in 1984.

Speaking of voices, Copland has a unique, instantly recognisable ‘voice’ of his own and that is clear from the first bars of The Tender Land suite. In his illuminating liner-notes Joseph Horowitz reminds us that although this has a Depression-era rural setting one could argue that, in part at least, it’s also Copland’s response to the McCarthyist witch hunt of the 1950s.

Interestingly the suite, arranged after the opera’s premiere in 1954, starts with the introduction to Act 3 and the love duet between the farm girl Laurie Moss and her drifter beau, Martin. The second movement is based on the party in Act II and the final movement comes from the quintet,’ ‘The Promise of Living’, at the end of Act I.

Whatever Copland’s intentions the music is not far removed from the Pennsylvanian hills of Appalachia, with its open, unpretentious scoring. The usual epithets ‘folksy’ and ‘homespun’ apply but there is also a degree of disquiet reflected in the brass at the start of this movement. The ensuing harp melodies are most affecting in their simplicity and directness, Robert Hanson securing warm, idiomatic playing from his orchestra.

The recording is clear and detailed, notably in the vigorous party music, and there’s no sign of strain or grain in the climaxes. Indeed, it’s an almost perfect acoustic for such a lucid score, the surging music of the last movement lovingly shaped and projected. This is vintage Copland and hearing this music may spur you to try the opera itself.

Horowitz makes the point that Copland’s piano concerto was somewhat eclipsed by Gershwin’s much better known effort, written the year before. It doesn’t have the latter’s Broadway-inspired razzamatazz but what it does have is a more sophisticated, cosmopolitan feel to it. The insouciant, bluesy first movement – introduced with the usual fanfare – has the pianist doodling quietly at the keyboard. Benjamin Pasternack captures the languor of this movement very well indeed, the piano ideally placed and faithfully recorded. Copland’s detailed scoring is wonderfully realised too, the more expansive moments thrillingly intense but never overheated.

The doodler is back in the second movement, his random notes followed by raucous music that has a real swing to it. The drums and percussion are certainly reminiscent of Gershwin but there is a fresh, individual quality to this concerto. Pasternack is suitably foot-stompin’ in those repeated jazzy phrases and the Elgin players give him wonderful support throughout. But it’s the final minute or so that’s the real tour de force, with the splendid percussion chasing the pianist all the way to the finish line.

This is exhilarating stuff and quite possibly the most enjoyable item on the disc – go on, give it another whirl – so the choral arrangements of the Old American Songs needs to be pretty special to top that. Most listeners probably know these pieces in their original scoring for voice and piano; if that’s the version you want do try Willard White on Chandos CHAN 8960.

Alas, first impressions of the choral arrangements aren’t very encouraging, baritone Nathaniel Stampley’s rather wide vibrato spoiling ‘The Boatmen’s Dance’. The St. Charles singers are another matter entirely; they are clear and nimble and, to be fair, Stampley does improve in ‘The Dodger’. Those who have heard Willard White in this repertoire will know just how much character and personality he brings to bear in these songs. Well worth seeking out.

The Elgin Symphony is never less than excellent and the chorus sing eloquently in the ballad ‘Long Time Ago’. Diction could be clearer but with such heartfelt singing it seems churlish to complain. And then there’s ‘Simple Gifts’, the Shaker hymn we know from Appalachian Spring, essayed here with a wonderful sense of innocence and optimism. They even manage the farmyard onomatopoeia of ’I Bought Me a Cat’ which, if you don’t mind this kind of silliness, will probably put a smile on your face.

Really it’s the chorus that makes these arrangements stand out; their bright, focused sound is invariably pleasing, even if the music doesn’t always sound like Copland. They are also suitably impassioned – febrile, even – in the Revivalist hymn ‘Zion’s Walls’. Then Stampley and tenor Jeffrey Hunt join them for a spirited rendition of ’The Golden Willow Tree’. Both soloists acquit themselves well here and for once the quirky orchestration actually sounds like authentic Copland.

Of the two remaining songs the hymn tune ‘At The River’ could have been penned by Charles Ives, such is its mix of devotional text and strange harmonies. Hanson and his band bring this music to a stirring close before launching into the utterly delightful ‘Ching-a-ring Chaw’. If you haven’t smiled so far then this will surely do the trick, the singing and playing pin-sharp and full of fun. An upbeat finale to an enchanting disc.

Minor caveats about the baritone aside this is another collection of American classics that deserves the highest praise. With exemplary playing, singing and an acoustic to match this is plainly indispensable. And the song texts are included as well, which is a welcome bonus. Buy it and enjoy.

-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International

Aaron Copland created maybe the most distinctively “American” sound in 20th-century music, with his exuberant ballet scores Appalachian Spring, Billy the Kid and Rodeo – works that caught, as never before, the vastness and rugged beauty of the American landscape, and the hope-filled spirit of the people. Copland’s music is a virtual signature of the mythic American heartland. At the same time, he was a native New Yorker whose ambitious modernism was refined and transformed by his studies in Paris with Nadia Boulanger in the 1920s. This set includes the three great ballet scores, Fanfare for the Common Man, the Clarinet Concerto (heard throughout Ken Burns’ “The War”), Lincoln Portrait (Henry Fonda narrating) and a selection of Copland’s own film music. Many of the performances are conducted by Copland himself, but also feature Leonard Bernstein, Benny Goodman, Michael Tilson Thomas and John Williams.

Also includes: Quiet City, An Outdoor Overture, The Promise of Living from The Tender Land, The Red Pony Film Suite for Orchestra, Old American Songs (Set One), Concerto for Piano and Orchestra and music from the movies The City, Our Town and Of Mice and Men.

The Copland Collection: Orchestral Works 1948-1971

About his collaborator, Slatkin said: "Gen. Schwarzkopf adds a dimension of leadership and humanism rarely encountered in performances of `Lincoln's Portrait.`

-- Chicago Tribune [8/5/92]

Premiered in 1946, a year after the end of World War II, Copland’s iconic Third Symphony was described by the composer as ‘a wartime piece- or, more accurately, an end-of-war piece- intended to reflect the euphoric spirit of the country at the time.’ The fourth movement, heard on this recording in its original uncut form, opens by quoting one of his most well-known pieces, Fanfare for the Common Man. Copland described the Three Latin American Sketches ‘as being just what the title says. The tunes, the rhythms and the temperament of the pieces are folksy, while the orchestration is bright and snappy and the music sizzles along.’ The Detroit Symphony Orchestra is known for trailblazing performances, visionary conductors, collaborations with the world’s foremost musical artists, and an ardent commitment to Detroit. As a community-supported orchestra, the continued success and growth of the institution is driven by generous giving by individuals and institutions at all levels. Esteemed conductor Leonard Slatkin became the DSO’s twelfth Music Director, endowed by the Kresge Foundation, in 2008. With growing attendance and unwavering philanthropic support from the Detroit community, the DSO’s performances include Classical, Pops, Jazz, Young People’s, and Neighborhood concerts, and collaborations with high-profile artists from Steven Spielberg to Kid Rock.

REVIEW:

Leonard Slatkin can always be counted on to offer a new take on familiar classics. He recorded an excellent Copland Third for RCA back in his St. Louis days, and this performance is almost identical in terms of tempo and expression—but not quite. Copland’s publishers, Boosey and Hawkes, in their infinite wisdom and desire to make a buck or two, have republished the composer’s Third Symphony with its original ending. If you have an older score, you might still find it there. Later printings removed the bits that Copland cut at Leonard Bernstein’s suggestion.

Now we can all hear definitively that those cuts were a good idea. The finale is already one of the most earsplitting essays in populist pomposity in the entire symphonic literature. Don’t get me wrong: it’s a blast as it stands and I wouldn’t change a note. The original, in comparison, sounds gratuitously, unconvincingly prolonged (sound clip), and before we start blathering about the revision not representing Copland’s intentions, let’s note that both of the composer’s own recordings of the symphony—made decades apart—observe the cuts (there are two, actually, one very tiny).

That said, this is in every respect a terrific performance, excitingly played and conducted, powerfully recorded, and with a nice bonus in the form of the Three Latin American Sketches. As a collector, I am happy to have the opportunity to hear Copland’s first thoughts, but one fine recording of them is enough.

-- ClassicsToday.com (David Hurwitz)

Copland: Old American Songs, Canticle of Freedom & 4 Motets

Aaron Copland wrote his rarely-heard ballet Hear Ye! Hear Ye! for Ruth Page, the dancer and choreographer who was to become the Grande Dame of American ballet. Its scenario is a murder in a nightclub and the ensuing trial in a Chicago courtroom. Copland infused the score with the spirit of his jazz-influenced pieces, controversially distorting part of the National Anthem, and infiltrating music from some of his earlier works. In complete contrast, Appalachian Spring is his most famous work, a true American masterpiece founded on transfigured dance tunes and song melodies.

In the late 1980s, Naxos released a perfectly decent bargain version of Rodeo, recorded in Bratislava under the direction of Stephen Gunzenhauser. Listening to it again it’s still very enjoyable. However, the label has steadily progressed over the years and in this latest offering Rodeo isn’t just a good bargain version. It’s a very good version at any price and should be snapped up by anyone remotely interested in the music of Aaron Copland.

In Rodeo Leonard Slatkin doesn’t match the snappy, hard driven virtuosity of Bernstein on CBS - nobody does - but many find that disc lacking in relaxation and quite wearing. The general approach in Detroit is somewhat more laid-back - refined, even - but that doesn’t imply that the execution isn’t rhythmically tight. This is playing of the highest calibre and time and again Slatkin reveals details that can be hidden or glossed over in other recordings. The timings for the opening Buckaroo Holiday are 7:00 (Bernstein) and 7:55 (Slatkin). In listening to both, putting the hair-raising Bernstein virtuosity to one side for a moment, I find the Slatkin to be more engaging and involving. It doesn’t just pass you by; it draws you in. From the opening bars you hear a deep sonorous bottom end, full-toned brass, clean string sound and biting transients. Later on the throatily realistic double bass section introduces some trombone playing that just about stays this side of becoming tasteless. The glissandi are pretty outrageous but it’s a piece that’s full of fun at the end of the day. The extended version of Saturday Night Waltz includes an entertaining honky-tonk piano solo. Corral Nocturne is suitably sensuous and the concluding Hoe-Down clocks in at 4:47 compared to 3:06 (Bernstein), 3:16 (Gunzenhauser) and 3:18 (Johanos/Dallas, a fine disc on Vox). These timings are somewhat misleading. Admittedly, Slatkin does take the music at a slightly slower tempo than usual but he also includes a substantial section of music that isn’t to be heard in the other recordings. It brings Rodeo to a very satisfying conclusion.

I have never heard Dance Panels before and quite frankly I’m amazed that such a great piece has been so overlooked. The music is closer to the sound-worlds of Quiet City and Appalachian Spring and makes a welcome contrast to the preceding Rodeo. The music is gentle, ruminative and sophisticated in nature. Even in the more invigorating passages such as the Scherzando of the third movement and the mercurial Con brio of the fifth section (a percussion showcase) the orchestration remains controlled and the very opposite of brash. The woodwind excel throughout and there are some gorgeous sonorities and beautiful tunes. This is Copland at his finest and it’s quite a find. I challenge anyone not to fall for this music.

The two fillers are despatched with aplomb. El Salón México is superb, opening as it does with its sleazy trumpet solo and cheeky bassoons. Slatkin yet again demonstrates that music such as this doesn’t have to be fast and furious to make its mark. The slow sections conjure up scenes of lazy days in the sun and that’s what Mexico, as pictured by the composer, should be all about isn’t it? The playing is never over the top. It’s done with great taste and refinement but there’s not one boring bar to be heard. All the orchestral soloists have a field day. The closing bars are as thrilling as you could wish for. The concluding Danzón Cubano, one of Copland’s real pot-boilers, brings the disc to a rousing end.

In summary, this is a great CD featuring top recommendations for Rodeo and El Salón México and a wonderful rarity in the shape of Dance Panels that I urge everyone to hear. The Detroit Orchestra, in superb form for their inspirational conductor, are captured in spectacular and beautiful sound.

– John Whitmore, MusicWeb International

Although it's played and recorded frequently, there is a genuine difference between a decent performance of Rodeo and a really excellent one such as we have here. This difference can be summed up in two words: rhythm and tempo. When it comes to rhythm, it's not merely a question of hitting the syncopations in the opening movement and concluding Hoedown, but of being both accurate and relaxed enough to let the music swing. This is a quality that Bernstein's performances always had, and JoAnn Falletta understands it too. This gives the music both the necessary verve in the outer sections and real balletic grace in the two inner ones, reminding us that we are, after all, hearing a story told through physical movement.


When it comes to tempo, the issue is at once simpler and less impressionistic. In Buckaroo Holiday, speeds have to be quick enough to prevent the music from breaking up into discrete, detached bits. Once again, Falletta & Co. come through with flying colors. The music never sounds mechanical, disconnected, or excessively "Stravinskian". Copland disliked excessive sentimentality, but his music is never dry (the rich, warm, but clear sonics also help in this department). And what turns out to be a successful recipe for Rodeo works just as well in all of the other pieces here. Prairie Journal (a.k.a. Music for Radio) is one of the least known of Copland's "Westerns", but it's every bit as enjoyable as the three great ballets, and this is as fine a performance as you will hear anywhere. Letter from Home is an exercise in nostalgia that never turns overly sweet.


Best of all, perhaps, is The Red Pony, one of the great film scores of all time, and a glorious work that for some reason seldom gets played live. Copland's invention is of exceptionally high quality throughout, and once again you can hear from the unusual freshness of the opening bars how effortlessly Falletta and the Buffalo players get into the spirit of the music. There are so many delightful moments, from the raucous Circus Music to the unforgettable Walk to the Bunkhouse, a piece that has become the very essence of musical Americana. Finally, it's great to see one of the very popular pieces, like Rodeo, coupled with some less ubiquitous examples of Copland's genius. A wonderful disc! [10/20/2006]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com