SCHOENBERG Pierrot Lunaire 1. String Trio 2 • 1 Arnold Schoenberg, cond; 1 Erika Stiedry-Wagner (voc); 1 Rudolph Kolisch (vn, va); 1 Stefan Auber (vc); 1 Kalman Bloch (cl); 1 Leonard Posella (fl, pic); 1 Eduard Steuermann (pn); 2 Robert Mann (vn); 2 Raphael Hillyer (va); 2 Claus Adam (vc) • SONY 45695, mono/stereo (52:53)


As in the case of several of my other CHoF recommendations, this one is for half-a-record, in this case for the 1940 recording of Pierrot Lunaire directed by the composer. It’s not that the 1967 performance of the String Trio is a poor one—it’s not—but the 1985 recording of the String Trio, also by members of the Juilliard String Quartet (for such they are) only with Samuel Rhodes on viola and Joel Krosnick on cello (Sony 47690) supercedes this one. It is the recording of Pierrot Lunaire that is wholly unique.


Directed by the composer, it was the first of Schoenberg’s mature works to be recorded (Leopold Stokowski had recorded the earlier Gurrelieder in 1932 for RCA Victor). It includes pianist Eduard Steuermann, who had been playing this work since its premiere in 1913, and soprano Erika Stiedry-Wagner, who had been speaking/singing the vocal part in performances under Schoenberg’s direction since 1921. (In Robert Craft’s book Stravinsky: Discoveries and Memories, reviewed elsewhere in this issue, he writes of a performance in Italy of Pierrot Lunaire under Schoenberg’s direction, attended by none other than Giacomo Puccini. Stiedry-Wagner was probably the speaker in that performance as well.)


Curiously for an experienced singer who had performed this work many times with Schoenberg, Stiedry-Wagner sings several wrong pitches in “Eine blasse Wäscherin”; but as Dr. Avior Byron, a musicologist and composer who is working on the book Schoenberg’s Writings on Aesthetics and Interpretation in Performance has said, these deviations from pitch were not only accepted by the composer but quite possibly encouraged as a later reconsideration of how this specific song was to be interpreted. You can read the details in Chapter Seven of his book, “ Sprechstimme Reconsidered,” at bymusic.org/images/stories/byronphd/chapter_7.pdf. To begin with, there were no less than five takes made of this song (in addition to five each of “Valse de Chopin” and “Madonna,” and four each of “Gebet an Pierrot,” “Raub,” “Rote Messe,” and “Galgenlied”), and Stiedry-Wagner deviates from the written pitch in all of them. With the composer in charge, this error could have been remedied with a 15-minute piano rehearsal; but the fact that he allowed the recordings to be made, and the take with the wrong pitches issued, indicates a much deeper level of tolerance on Schoenberg’s part. As Byron illustrates via written comments from Schoenberg, the composer wanted a stricter adherence to pitch in Pierrot Lunaire than in the spoken recitation of Gurrelieder, but in certain songs—“Eine blasse Wäscherin” was apparently one of them—the mode of expression, the curve of the voice delivering the words, the vocal melismas as it were, became more important to him than absolute fidelity of pitch. Therefore, one can indeed accept this deviation as composer-approved and not an errant mistake that the composer did not catch prior to issue.


The bottom line is that Stiedry-Wagner’s performance is utterly fascinating and enthralling in its own way. She rivets your attention much better, for instance, than does Yvonne Minton in the note-perfect recording made under Pierre Boulez’s direction. From start to finish, this Pierrot Lunaire creates an atmosphere that is spellbinding. These performers, most of whom had been doing this work for a long time under the composer’s direction, give about as authentic a performance as can be imagined; and, as Byron makes clear, even the pitch deviations are instructive to modern performers as to how the songs should be done. In tonal Western music, interpretive differences are generally given by means of variants in the phrasing and the stress given to certain words, as in opera and Lieder, but to Schoenberg, the rhythms of Pierrot Lunaire were inviolable; and though he demanded a higher degree of pitch accuracy in this work, he apparently allowed a certain degree of latitude considering the range of one’s voice and the way the music was spoken-sung. Stiedry-Wagner was an accomplished operetta soprano and particularly an actress, thus I suspect that she and Schoenberg discussed the pitch deviations in “Eine blasse Wäscherin” to some extent, especially since all of the five existing takes deviate in one way or another from score pitch and, in fact, each one is different.


So much for “historically informed” performances, eh?


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

R. Strauss: Der Rosenkavalier Suite, Le bourgeois gentilhomm

HAYDN: HARMONIEMESSE, SCHÖPFUN

MOZART: SINFONIA CONCERTANTE,

CHOEURS DE L'OPERA DE VIENNE -

MAHLER: SYMPHONIES NO 6 & 7 M

BRUCKNER: TE DEUM, MASS NO 2

CORELLI: SONATAS OP. 5 NO 7 -

"Sony's recording provides us with a player's ear perspective on the music... It is always a pleasure to hear these gifted players..." -- Gramophone [11/1993]

This is the soundtrack from the movie "Le Roi et Moi", an animated version of "The King and I" sung in French.

Heavy and deliberate as Maazel’s idiosyncratic point of view undoubtedly is, you can’t fault the execution, very much on the side of Mahler the modernist. Jagged textures stand revealed throughout, offset by richly resonant sound and characteristically warm VPO strings worked to the bone in an attempt to realise as many of the detailed dynamics as possible. I confess a personal nostalgia for the very Viennese waltzes and ländlers of this scherzo, fondly remembered from youthful impressions of the same work, players and conductor on a first-time visit to Vienna.

-- David Nice, BBC Music Magazine

I enjoyed this new Sony coupling of Saint-Saëns and Wieniawski concertos very much indeed. They are both highly rewarding works, well crafted in the best sense. Their special charm is that the quality of the invention and the manner in which the themes are discussed is exactly right for the music's modest scale. Julian Rachlin has their full measure and continually beguiles us with the spontaneous melodic flow. He is a Lithuanian prodigy (beginning his concert career at the age of ten!) and is utterly in command of the galaxy of colour his instrument can create in that special way that seems to come so readily and easily to Jewish fiddlers, when they are so naturally gifted. Not for a single bar throughout this music is his virtuosity displayed for its own sake: it is always put at the service of the two composers. The Saint-Saëns was taken from a live concert, although this is not made clear in the presentation material. Both concertos were recorded in the Mann Auditorium and there are subtle differences in the sound, although the balance is basically excellent throughout. In Saint-Saëns the audience absorbion cushions the orchestral textures, but also makes the solo image warmer, more seductive; in the Wieniawski the orchestra] focus is fresher, the body of the string tone has more tangibility, and the violin is made to 'stand tall', more positively up front. But Julian Rachlin's playing can take any amount of scrutiny and in the live performance, where there were no chances for retakes, he is just as technically assured as when recording under studio conditions. Mehta, too, is on top form and so is the orchestra.

The Saint-Saëns comes first and has many delights to offer. The first movement has a splendidly passionate lyrical impulse and the Andantino is sheer delight: it has one of the composer's most delicious inspirations, a siciliano which is relished here by one and all (including us). Note Rachlin's gentle reprise of the lovely lyrical theme, surrounded by delicate touches of woodwind colour at 4'53" and again his re-presentation at 6'41", high up and exquisite. This is what fine fiddling is all about. But the performance reaches its peak in the splendid finale, the longest movement, which has wit and fire and a memorable chorale melody thrown in for good measure. It appears ethereally on the violins at 3'55" (Mehta and his orchestra wonderfully persuasive); then at 4'18" the soloist relishes its beauty. When the brass finally get their teeth into it (843") they let rip with real gusto, and then the soloist admonishes them with a gentle riposte which includes a disarming pianissimo echo. The sinuously flowing opening of the Wieniawski is beautifully and naturally moulded by the orchestra, with fine contributions from the principal oboe and solo horn, and when the soloist arrives the music's rhapsodic feeling continues most pleasingly. The second subject is beguiling enough when it first appears, but at its reprise (6'14") Rachlin's 50110 voce playing makes one's toes curl with pleasure. At 1135" the orchestra's principal clarinet shows what he is made of in the preparation for the glorious Andante, where the violin enters gently but with a simmering, sultry tone. The chimerical finale is full of joy and has the lightest touch from all concerned. I have played this record a lot and shall return to it with much pleasure. Not all music has to move mountains like Beethoven's Eroica.

-- Gramophone [12/1992]

MAHLER: SYMPHONY NO 1 MAAZEL,

Having won a special prize for the best Mazurka interpretations during the 1955 International Warsaw Chopin Competition, it's no surprise that pianist Fou Ts'ong has a long-standing reputation for playing--guess what?--Chopin Mazurkas! I've never heard Fou's all-Mazurka Westminster LP, but his complete Mazurka cycle issued in 1993 by Sony Essential Classics now gains reissue thanks to Arkivmusic.com's on-demand reprint program.

Fou's forceful, creative Mazurka style commands attention. He dishes out lots of rubato and elongated beats, together with wide dynamic extremes and outsized accents. Yet somehow the interpretations rarely sound fragmented, and no matter how far out things get, you almost always can discern the Mazurka rhythm. What is more, Fou is not afraid to blur the pedal for coloristic and expressive purposes.

He's also fond of subjecting repeated phrases to subtle variations in nuance and touch (Op. 6 No. 1's main theme; Op. 7 No. 1's trills; Op. 63 No. 3's intense canonic dialogue; Op. 30 No. 4's dramatically contoured inner voices). Only occasionally does Fou's approach produce cloying results (Op. 17 No. 4 and Op. 68 No. 4).

The pianist also makes the most of transitional passages, be it a single, solitary upbeat or a quick succession of chords; Op. 24 No. 4, Op. 56 No. 3, and Op. 41 No. 2 are particularly striking in this regard. You easily can listen past the strident, harsh engineering, albeit not for long periods of time. That's just as well, since it's wisest to absorb Fou's multi-layered, hyper-detailed Mazurking in small doses.

Incidentally, Fou presents the Mazurkas in near-chronological order rather than according to opus, as is so often done. While Rubinstein's stereo and Ohlsson's digital Mazurka cycles remain safer, sonically superior versions of reference, Fou Ts'ong certainly casts individual and thought-provoking light on this repertoire.

--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
reviewing the complete set of Mazurkas recorded by Fou Ts'ong, Sony 53246

GRIEG: PEER GYNT SUITES, ETC