Classical Music

Also available on Blu-ray

Live Recording from the Lucerne Festival, Summer 2011

‘Abbado’s approach to the music of Bruckner is soft and songlike, at times tense and urgent, but constantly filled with warmth of feeling’ – not only the Neue Zürcher Zeitung is full of praise when Claudio Abbado and the Lucerne Festival Orchestra play Bruckner. Their interpretation of his awe-inspiring Fifth Symphony reflects the composer’s burgeoning powers and exquisite compositional artistry. As The Guardian poetically states: ‘The composer himself, one suspects, might have leapt to embrace Abbado as an ideal interpreter.’

Also available on standard DVD

BRUCKNER Symphony No. 5 (Nowak ed.) • Claudio Abbado, cond; Lucerne Fest O • ACCENTUS ACC 10243 (Blu-ray: 80:33) Live: Lucerne 8/19–20/2011

Claudio Abbado formed the Lucerne Festival Orchestra in 2003 after his return to musical life following successful treatment for stomach cancer. His appearances each summer with this group, built upon the core of the Mahler Chamber Orchestra plus first-chair players from many top ensembles, are highly anticipated events. So, when Lucerne videos are released during the year following a festival, it’s like returning to a favorite summer vacation town. What’s the same? What’s changed? As the cameras scan the orchestra, we see that the older female cellist (Natalia Gutman) is missing, but many other familiar faces are back, including violist Wolfram Christ, flutist Jacques Zoon, and the eccentric-appearing principal trumpet (Reinhold Friedrich, who, for some reason, is permitted to wear an extravagant velvet jacket and as a result looks like a cross between Ben Franklin and a circa 1910 patent medicine salesman). Plus, as always, there is a healthy number of young musicians who must be marveling at their good fortune to be participating in such an extraordinary endeavor. Because of the degree of continuity from year to year, a strong sense of artistic purpose and, of course, the man on the podium, the orchestra consistently performs at a level equal to the very best permanent ensembles on earth, even though they are together only relatively briefly each summer.

Bruckner’s Symphony No. 5 is a work that can be condescended to. If a conductor begins with the premise that the Fifth is a piece that—however powerful and popular—is constructed from simplistic elements and lacking refinement, well … you’ll get a performance that’s simplistic and unrefined. Abbado finds layers and layers of nuance and meaning in the symphony. (Benjamin Zander is another conductor who shows the work a similar respect.) Any aura of ritual or of a grinding symphonic machine is banished and something much more organic is in evidence; it’s less a sonic cathedral (to use the standard Bruckner cliché) and more of a Beethovenian or Mahlerian evocation of the natural world. The chorales—strings in the second movement or the “11 apostles” in the Finale—are thankfully shorn of any Hollywood religiosity and just seem to blossom inevitably from musical seeds planted much earlier on. Abbado leads the Scherzo with exceptional lift and lightness, but still allows the obsessive quality to come through without nearly as much hard-headedness—the “country bumpkin” cliché—as is often the case. And then there are the felicities provided by all those world-class instrumentalists. For just one example, listen to the seamless manner with which phrases are passed from horn to oboe to flute at the very end of the second movement.

The sound is glorious in stereo and, especially, with multichannel—richly sonorous, dynamic, detailed, and dimensional. I’ve never witnessed a large audience listen so quietly before; everyone present in the Concert Hall of KKL Luzern for the two performances generating this video last August knew, I’m sure, that they were witnessing something special. They seem afraid to breathe, much less cough or fidget in their seats. As has become the custom, flowers rain down on the performers after the concert’s conclusion. The audience rises to its feet, something that doesn’t happen all that often in Europe (as opposed to the U.S., where every performance, however routine, typically gets a standing ovation). Abbado will be 80 next year and he looks well. Here’s hoping there are many more of these Blu-ray treasures to come.

FANFARE: Andrew Quint

Bruckner: Symphony No. 4

BRUCKNER Symphony No. 4 (Version 1878/1880) • Marek Janowski, cond; O de la Suisse Romande • PENTATONE 5186 450 (SACD: 63:27)


I’m irresistibly tempted to say the porridge here is just right, except for the fact that when you deal with Bruckner, there are far more than three bears at stake and a lot more stirring to be done over the stove. Performances of the Bruckner Fourth range from the mystical (think Celibidache) to the craggy, or at least extremely direct (think Blomstedt). Less often do we suppose the music to be graceful, rich, and beautiful as a Brahms symphony. But that is what we have here. This is an unexpectedly wonderful CD. I find it the most beautiful Bruckner Fourth I have ever heard, marginalizing even Kertész’s glowing one in memory.


Marek Janowski has become visible in recent years as a ubiquitous guest conductor, touring with mostly German repertory, which he performs with a remarkable sense of balance and formal integration. He is not generally a passionate conductor, willing to break the musical line to make a point. But he shapes everything in a fluid manner, which sets him apart from Blomstedt, Wand, and from the historical line of clipped phrase endings brought to us by Toscanini and Szell. I first took notice of him a few decades ago on a trip to Europe, encountering on Radio France the most rounded and velvety broadcast of the Brahms Haydn Variations that I had ever heard. In the years since, my assessment of Janowski has risen and fallen with the CDs he has released, some of which come across as emotionally neutral. His recent Brahms recordings with the Pittsburgh Symphony have tended to be fast and rather dry-eyed, his Strauss Alpine Symphony a bit short on mystery, but his Macbeth white hot and the one to seek out.


Similarly, Janowski’s Bruckner cycle with the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande does not always probe for brooding depths in the more apocalyptic works. But this Fourth is just about ideal, unfolding naturally and simply, every phrase more ravishing than the last. Given the history of the Suisse Romande in French music (and little else for decades), one is astonished to experience such idiomatic Brucknerian sonority from a Francophone orchestra. Janowski’s earlier recording of this symphony for Virgin with Radio France was marred by just the sort of nasal and blaring brass sound one would fear from traditional French players. But the sound of the Suisse Romande today is golden, beautifully matched, and virtuosic. And the strings are luminous and accurate in a way Ernest Ansermet would never have achieved. This is now an orchestra fully of the first rank. Victoria Hall, which verges to the eye on being a too-muchness of Victorian kitsch, sounds here like one of the great shoebox recording sites, if PentaTone’s miking is any judge. The listener is in an ideal seat for Bruckner, a bit towards the back of the hall. And the surround channels supply a glowing sense of space. There is no edge; nothing grates on the ear.


The performance, itself, is on the swift, flowing side, like Kertész, who is even two minutes faster. I do miss in it one touch we get only from Barenboim: the timpani at the conclusion of the first movement’s development chorale—a nice touch. But Janowski otherwise shapes this section beautifully, surrounding the chorale more than usual with filigree from the cellos. The slow movement usually is what kills conductors—and the audiences forced to plod through it with them. The movement essentially is about walking, stopping, breathing, and then walking on. The sense of pulse must carry it more than any melody. Most conductors miss this, attempt too much, and give the listener an out-of-shape Bruckner, lumbering forward and pausing to deal with what sounds like near-death emphysema. Here, all is as natural as a performance of Beethoven’s Pastorale . The scherzo is nimble and the brass fruity. There are many ways to make this movement whoop appropriately at the end of the hunting call, and these players are as good as any you will find. And Janowski phrases the three great declamations at the beginning of the Finale with a remarkable set of slithers that give them real profile and contour.


It is an unusual experience to emerge from a Bruckner performance—moved and satisfied—without feeling that one has also been assaulted. Shostakovich and Bruckner performances tend to suffer from a public address system syndrome. But here all comes together: thorough, extremely interesting notes, perfect hall, perfect brass and string sound. A Kapellmeister transcends himself—and the effect is emotional nourishment.


As I suggested at the beginning: The porridge is just right for this bear!


FANFARE: Steven Kruger

"I am more a friend of live performances and don’t believe that much in studio recordings,” commented Simone Young in an interview with Park Avenue magazine. “Our CDs are therefore recordings of live concerts. This was demonstrated with the Hamburg Philharmonic: that is an orchestra with which I can make a statement.”

The press reacted with enthusiastic reviews of the first CD out of Hamburg (Bruckner’s Second Symphony, Original Version of 1872): “More analytical than her role-model Daniel Barenboim, but more impulsive than the unforgettable Günter Wand, Simone Young awakes the works of Bruckner’s early years to orchestral life.” (KulturSPIEGEL)

Now, following the fulminate success of the first CD comes Volume 2 with the Third Symphony as a live recording, also in its original version (1873), with the unmistakable acoustics of the Hamburger Musikhalle.

REVIEWS:

With this new release the Naxos catalog now includes all extant versions of Bruckner's much massaged Symphony No. 3. Georg Tintner's imposing account of the 1873 original made a powerful and seemingly irrefutable case for Bruckner's first thoughts. But Johannes Wildner is equally persuasive in his compelling rendition of the second version from 1877. Here Bruckner tamed the sometimes discursive quality of his original inspiration, giving it a tighter and more or less conventional structure--at least as defined by Brucknerian standards. Though this came at a sacrifice of some of the music's more radical passages, the symphony remains a powerful and affecting work.


Wildner's conviction is immediately apparent in the first movement: Listen as he builds the opening's two great climaxes with arresting force, then infuses the following lyrical second subject with an ingratiating warmth. Fine as the first movement is, it's actually the Adagio and Finale that benefit most from Wildner's probing conducting, as both movements sound with a rare formal coherence married to dramatic impact. As a bonus, the first disc of this double set also includes the composer's intermediate version (1876) of the Adagio.


Bruckner's 1889 revision of the symphony is controversial for its sometimes ungainly melding of his early and late styles, as well as for the cuts--reportedly influenced by Franz Schalk--that gouge out large portions of the finale. However, Wildner miraculously smooths out the symphony's rough edges by adopting swift tempos (the first movement now has lost nearly four minutes), streamlined phrasing, and light textures; he also imparts an early-romantic, almost Mendelssohnian feel that makes this last version sound paradoxically like the earliest, contemporaneous with the Second Symphony.


The Westphalia New Philharmonic members perform with the same enthusiasm and expertise they displayed in their recording of the Ninth Symphony. And though the strings still don't match the richness of their world-class competition, the brass project more boldly and surely than before, and the orchestra as a whole cultivates an authentic yet distinctive Bruckner sound. Naxos' recording offers impressive clarity and dynamic range, though the dry hall acoustic doesn't provide much warmth. No matter--the heat generated by Wildner and his players more than compensates. [2/21/2004]
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

Every so often a recording comes out that is so powerful, so comprehensive in its interpretive vision, that it not only makes the music sound completely new, it forces a complete reappraisal of the music's overall significance. Georg Tintner's Bruckner Third is one such recording. In fact, it offers such a fundamental reappraisal of this music that it's safe to say that until you hear this recording, you have not heard Bruckner's Third Symphony. In order to understand why this is so, it's necessary to understand something of the history of the work. First composed in 1873 and dedicated to Wagner, the symphony went through at least two major revisions in the wake of its disastrous Vienna premiere. For the most part, these revisions involved cuts, but also some recasting of the basic thematic material of the first and last movement in a heavier, more "late Bruckner" style. The final, truncated version published by Nowak is the one most frequently played today, but the slightly less cut Oeser edition (the "middle" version) has been gaining favor recently, and has been recorded by conductors such as Haitink and Sinopoli.

Because Bruckner's later thoughts on the symphony reflect his more mature orchestral practice, the Third has acquired a reputation as a hybrid, a "magnificent failure" that falls between the Schubertian world of the early symphonies and his monumental later achievement. This view was reinforced by Robert Simpson's unsympathetic account of the work in his important English language study of the Bruckner symphonies. Eliahu Inbal's first recording of the original 1873 version for Teldec did nothing to dispel this impression, being a rapid and not especially well played performance that merely set out the notes that Bruckner wrote. Tintner's spacious, epic conception of the symphony couldn't be more different. In the first place, it plays for more than 77 minutes, making it Bruckner's longest symphony after the Eighth (and in fact longer than many performances of that work). But the tempos never sound slow. Rather, Tintner gives each thematic group time to breathe, to present its themes in Bruckner's characteristic blocks of sound, and along the way we make some fascinating discoveries. The first of these reveals the exposition of the first movement to be the richest and most thematically diverse that Bruckner ever wrote, with no less than four complete subject complexes. The spaciousness of the exposition makes the development section sound unusually concentrated for Bruckner, the movement's overall form confidently poised and balanced.

After the 30-minute first movement, with its huge contrasts of dynamics and texture, the lyrical adagio comes as the ideal contrast, and Tintner's gracious phrasing, combined with his ability to find just the right tempo, keeps the music moving with a real sense of inevitability. The Scherzo has never been controversial, and Tintner captures its lightness and rustic dance qualities as have few others, but it's the finale that offers the final revelation. Here, Tintner's confidence in Bruckner's vision pays huge dividends in a movement long regarded as almost a complete bust, formally speaking. With all the "cyclical" elements that were later removed still in place (the recollections of earlier themes), and a tempo that gives the music time to reveal its clear derivation from the melodies and accompaniments of the first movement, what we really have is one of Bruckner's most ambitious and far reaching formal successes, an energetic and satisfying counterbalance to the epic expanses of the symphony's opening. Tintner's belief in this symphony reveals it to be not some sort of unfortunate hybrid, but the product of a fully mature (he was 49 when he wrote it!), even radical composer. This in turn makes its initial failure in performance all the more understandable: there was certainly nothing even remotely like it in 1873. The conventional wisdom that the "real" Bruckner begins with the revised Fourth Symphony simply will not stand. It's this work that is his symphonic manifesto, and no one hearing this performance will doubt it for a second.

The Royal Scottish National Orchestra deserves a huge amount of credit for sharing Tintner's patience and conviction. The light tone of the strings, in particular, sounds especially "right" in this symphony, and in this case preferable to the darker, heavier sound of many Continental orchestras in this music. Tintner's Bruckner series has been almost uniformly excellent, but I think that this recording is the finest of them all. Its importance to our understanding of Bruckner's symphonic achievement is such that it amounts to nothing less than a premiere performance of a newly discovered masterpiece. Recordings this significant happen all too rarely. Don't miss it.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Klaus Tennstedt (1926–1998) became an international performing and recording star relatively late in his life, and then had his career further shortened by illness. He made many recordings, but apart from a fine Eighth with the London Philharmonic, I cannot recall any authorized commercial recordings of Bruckner symphonies. That makes the present release especially valuable, for Tennstedt was masterful in all the German and Austrian classics, Bruckner included. The present release gives us a performance taped by the Bavarian Radio in April 1976, and finds the orchestra—always a good one since Eugen Jochum rebuilt it after World War II—playing with its customary zest for the idiom of Anton Bruckner. Although the 1877 version of the Third Symphony had won several converts by 1976, Tennstedt, like Jochum, Herbert von Karajan, Sergiu Celibidache, and Stanislaw Skrowaczewski, continued to perform the final, 1889 version of the symphony. By far the shortest of the three versions now in print, it can indeed be played idiomatically in 52 minutes.

This performance is intense and powerful in its outer movements, gentle and lyrical in the Andante, bewegt, quasi Adagio, and energetic in the Scherzo. The analog stereo sound is decently balanced, and generous in its range of frequencies and dynamics. However, it places the listener well back in a large and resonant space, so that inner details are sometimes swallowed by resonances. Most listeners should not mind this, as the performance always moves with assurance and, in those dynamic outer movements, irresistible urgency.

Robert McColley, FANFARE

BRUCKNER Symphony No. 3 (first version, 1873) • Jonathan Nott, cond; Bamberg SO • TUDOR 7133 (Multichannel Hybrid SACD: 63:12)


In Fanfare 28:3, I briefly described the three versions—1873, 1877, and 1889—of Anton Bruckner’s Third Symphony, while reviewing Kent Nagano’s recording of the 1873 version with the Deutsches Symphony of Berlin (Harmonia Mundi 901817, also available as a multichannel hybrid SACD, HMC 801817). For all its virtues of interpretation, execution, and sound—and sounding even better in the SACD version—I judged it not quite as compelling a performance as one by Georg Tintner and the Royal Scottish Orchestra on Naxos 8.553454. Now a new SACD from Tudor further complicates the picture. Jonathan Nott, an English conductor enjoying a major career in Europe, leads a powerful performance of the symphony, and the Bamberg Symphony never sounded better. In “super audio” five-channel sound, this is now clearly the best recording to date of the 1873 version. It is also one of the shortest; Nagano is more than five minutes longer, and Tintner more than 14! The first commercial recording by Eliahu Inbal and the Frankfurt Radio Orchestra clocked in at 65:12, and the fastest ever, by Roger Norrington and his London Classical Players, zipped by at 57:25. In placing Nott and Tintner at the head of my list, I obviously do not care how fast the music is played, but how convincing a conductor and orchestra can make their interpretation sound. Nott, like Tintner, creates drama through persuasive dynamic and rhythmic contrasts, adding up to a complete and compelling conception. It is especially gratifying to find a relatively young (born 1962) conductor creating a profound and exciting performance reminiscent of much older conductors, such as Bruno Walter, Carl Schuricht, Wilhelm Furtwängler, Otto Klemperer, and Eugen Jochum.


Tudor’s notes argue, as did Georg Tintner annotating his own performance for Naxos, that the later versions were not so much improvements as attenuations of a great masterpiece that is best heard and understood in its original form. Now that I have become thoroughly familiar with it, I can no longer argue against that view, though there is so much to admire in every version of Bruckner’s symphonies that I prefer to enjoy each on its own terms. It seems more worthwhile to argue against those who, for whatever reason, try to suppress marvelous scores like the Vienna version of the First Symphony, or the final version (1888) of the Fourth, both of which were revised and sent to the printer with the composer firmly in charge, however much help he had from his disciples.


An ethical case might be made against the publication (as recently as 1977, edited by Leopold Nowak) of this first version, because the composer never tried to have it performed or published. But every Bruckner enthusiast I know is grateful to hear these alternate versions, and conductors may now choose which version or versions they wish to perform. Similarly, serious collectors can choose which they wish to buy and keep.


Thanks to many recordings and concerts heard live or by radio, one can now accept the large number of allusions to the operas of Richard Wagner in the 1873 edition.


This was the version Wagner saw; Bruckner sought and received the great man’s permission to dedicate the symphony to him. This version is characterized by monumental length: 2,056 measures, compared to 1,715 in the 1877 version, and 1,544 in 1889. When performed with such skill and conviction, and recorded in such rich and burnished sound as in Tudor’s new release, one feels that more, indeed, is better.

FANFARE: Robert McColley

It was a debut that will long be remembered. It was in October 2006 that Yannick Nezet-Seguin first conducted the Dresden Staatskapelle, which with its invitations to younger conductors in particular was increasingly emerging “as a talent scout for the next generation of baton-wielders” (German daily Die Welt). The 31-year-old newcoming, whose very name was a tonguetwister for most, had hitherto attracted the most attention in his native Canada; since 2000 he had been directing the Orchestre Metropolitain, little brother of the Orchestre Symphonique in his birthplace of Montreal. After debuts with orchestras in Toulouse, Goteborg and Birmingham, he was now in the Semperoper, standing for the first time in his life before one of Europe’s long-established, tradition-steeped orchestras. Nezet-Seguin was no disappointment. In fact, he was just the opposite. Straight away at rehearsals, it was obvious that this young man knew exactly what he wanted in works by Britten, Ravel and Shostakovich; in concerts, he was in full command of musicians and audience alike with his energetic and precise conducting manner, his sens of sound and rhythmic structures. Word soon got around that news of “the Great Canadian Conductor for whom this country’s classical music buffs have been waiting” (Toronto Star) was more than a mere marketing device. And people believed him when he admitted that conducting had been “like a vocation” for him ever since he was ten years old. “Today I have the feeling that I am living the dream I had as a little boy,” he confessed.

REVIEWS:
BBC Music (5/98, p.66) - Performance: 5 (out of 5), Sound: 5 (out of 5) - "...What will interest aficionados is the use here of the original 1872 version....Tintner's devotion to the work shines through....The playing is excellent, the recording spaciously warm if occasionally bass-light..."

The Symphony No. 2 has all the hallmarks of Bruckner's later symphonies. After the brilliant and aggressive 1st Symphony, the 2nd is a calmer and more introverted work. It introduces the mysterious string tremolos with their shimmering harmonic changes gliding above the melody, the heroic yet lonely main themes and the blazing flourishes which we hear in later symphonies. The 2nd Symphony also retains and carries forward the rustic scherzo and powerful, large scale finale which Bruckner was to grapple with for years to come. There are moments of great melodic eloquence in this music, particularly in the first and second movements. Yet, not counting the interesting "No. 0", Bruckner's 2nd is the least heard of the symphonies numbered 1 through 9. This performance by Orchestre de la Suisse Romande conducted by Marek Janowski, brings this contemplative lovely score into the light.

- Greg La Traille, ArkivMusic

There are at least four versions of Anton Bruckner's 2nd Symphony; the last one was written in 1892. Frequently, however – as on this recording – the original version is preferred; as usual with Bruckner, this version of 1872 is bolder and longer. Already very early on, the composer changed the order of movements in this work, which was felt by many to be a response to the dramaturgy of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. The Scherzo, as the second movement, has changed places with the ensuing Adagio. In the later version, he also almost completely eliminated the most striking characteristic of this creation, probably due to the urging of his friends and supporters, especially Johann Herbeck: eight of the nine famous tutti rests in the first movement disappear completely. Another special characteristic of the original version is the solo horn passage in the Adagio, written in an extremely difficult register for the instruments of that time – but also of moving beauty.

This first-ever recording of the original version of Anton Bruckner's sweeping Symphony No. 1 marked the final great achievement of the acclaimed Bruckner conductor, Georg Tintner, who died in 1999. Following the premiere of the symphony in 1868, Bruckner's devoted conductor friends, all of whom were die-hard Wagnerians like Bruckner himself, championed the work (and Bruckner's other compositions) while subjecting it to their own modifications in order to make Bruckner sound more Wagnerian! Regrettably, the trusting Bruckner sometimes allowed and even abetted these interventions. With the advantage of twenty-twenty hindsight, one can see that Bruckner was, from the beginning, a majestically individual composer and should have been left to his own devices. Under the knowing hand of Tintner, the Royal Scottish National Orchestra reveals this symphony's sprawling orchestral architecture as it was first conceived. The first two movements are surprisingly novel for a fledgling essay in the genre. The second movement already sets the standard for those otherworldly adagio movements, with their glacially unfolding melodies, that populate Bruckner's symphonies.