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Rachmaninov: Symphonic Dances / Petrenko, Royal Liverpool Philharmonic
Avie Records · Mar 2010CD$19.99
Mozart Legendary Interpretations - Robert Casadesus
Sony Masterworks
CD
$33.99
Dec 22, 2009
Of these four Mozart [Sony Legendary Interpretations] sets, pride of place must go to the Robert Casadesus recordings of the late piano concertos—Nos. 21-3, 24, 26 and 27 plus the Double Concerto in E flat, in which he is joined by Gaby Casadesus (Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia accompany here). The 1960 recording of the Double Concerto, made in New York's Manhattan Center, is rather dry and doesn't help the music-making to smile, although the playing itself undoubtedly has its insights. The solo concertos were recorded in Severance Hall, Cleveland between 1959 (No. 22) and 1962 (Nos. 26-7) and the venue adds enough ambience to the forward balance to make it convincing. Indeed, the piano integrates well, even if tuttis are on a larger scale than would be expected today. George Szell conducts accompaniments that are very polished and lively. The orchestral credit is shared between members of the Cleveland Orchestra (No. 21), the Columbia Symphony Orchestra (Nos. 22-3 and 26-7) and the 'full' Cleveland (No. 24).
Though the very brisk finale of No. 21 in C is performed with tremendous bravura and sparkle, Casadesus's style is seldom self-consciously extrovert; he lets Mozart speak for himself. The playing in the slow movements is exquisite; colours are delicately shaded, dynamics subtly handled. The same comment applies to the secondary material of first movements, where Szell's authority is also telling. Concerto No. 22 in E fiat is marvellously played and my own favourite, No. 23 in A, captures that special blend of brilliance and underlying nostalgia that is the hallmark of this work. The Corona/ion (No. 26 in D) and the last concerto (No. 27 in B flat) both bring really memorable performances, in fact among the finest in the catalogue. Altogether this set is an essential purchase for any Mozartian who has not already invested in the separate issues.
-- Gramophone [9/1991]
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The ravishing slow movement of K 467 has never sounded more magical than here...this is exquisite Mozart playing, beautifully paced and articulated.
-- Penguin Guide [2003/2004]
Though the very brisk finale of No. 21 in C is performed with tremendous bravura and sparkle, Casadesus's style is seldom self-consciously extrovert; he lets Mozart speak for himself. The playing in the slow movements is exquisite; colours are delicately shaded, dynamics subtly handled. The same comment applies to the secondary material of first movements, where Szell's authority is also telling. Concerto No. 22 in E fiat is marvellously played and my own favourite, No. 23 in A, captures that special blend of brilliance and underlying nostalgia that is the hallmark of this work. The Corona/ion (No. 26 in D) and the last concerto (No. 27 in B flat) both bring really memorable performances, in fact among the finest in the catalogue. Altogether this set is an essential purchase for any Mozartian who has not already invested in the separate issues.
-- Gramophone [9/1991]
----------------------------------
The ravishing slow movement of K 467 has never sounded more magical than here...this is exquisite Mozart playing, beautifully paced and articulated.
-- Penguin Guide [2003/2004]
HANDEL MARRINER: THE DECCA LEGACY
ELOQUENCE AUSTRALIA
CD
$107.23
Mar 29, 2024
LIMITED EDITION. A unique collection of L'Oiseau-Lyre, Argo, Decca and Philips albums in original covers, showcasing both the genius of Handel and the musicianship of the classic ASMF/Marriner pairing at it's most stylish. Even while a member of the London Symphony Orchestra in the early 1950s, Neville Marriner had made recordings for L'Oiseau-Lyre as a violinist in the Jacobean Ensemble. Accordingly, he took a tape of a concerto grosso to the label's legendary owner, Louise Hanson-Dyer. The artists on it were his new ensemble, the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. This modest demonstration tape ultimately led to more than 500 recordings, and the success of the Academy with Marriner as the world's most recorded partnership. Handel was an integral part of the Academy's work firstly for L'Oiseau-Lyre, then for Argo, finally for the Dutch label Philips. (Marriner and the Academy also recorded music by Handel for EMI.) Without including later duplicate versions, this box compiles for the first time all the ASMF/Marriner albums made for the Decca family of labels as well as Philips between 1961 and 1997, amounting to a comprehensive survey of the composer's orchestral music, ornamented with Acis and Galatea, Messiah, Jephtha and the Coronation Anthems. Critics from the outset praised not just the energy of the Academy and Marriner in Handel's Concerti grossi, but also their Polish, at a time when period-instrument versions were technically unreliable. Soloists such as the oboist Roger Lord emerged naturally from an ensemble of soloists in the first place. A succession of keyboard players pays testament to the determination of Marriner to find a degree of authenticity in 18th-century music that worked practically for him and his colleagues. First of all his friend Thurston Dart, who researched the sources for much of the music played here, and the mercurial choir director and harpsichordist George Malcolm. In a later generation came Andrew Davis and Christopher Hogwood, the organist on the Argo Messiah which was recorded using his edition. All the vocal works are cast from strength, including Elly Ameling and Philip Langridge in Messiah, Jill Gomez and Robert Tear in Acis and Galatea, and Anthony Rolfe Johnson and Emma Kirkby in Jephtha. Tear is also heard in a lesser-known 1969 album of German and English arias. From 1997, Dmitri Hvorostovsky is heard in Handel excerpts from his 'Arie antiche' album, testifying to the durability of a marriage between ensemble, conductor and composer which survived tumultuous artistic change. Further highlights include the classic Fireworks/Water Music pairing from 1971, ballet music from Ariodante and Alcina (also Argo), the Concerti a due cori from 1979 and the digital-era Philips album of Coronation Anthems, as well as a curiosity: two choruses from Messiah recorded in the studio as a promotional item for the forthcoming recording on Philips of the complete oratorio from Dublin. Handel was their home territory, as Peter Quantrill illustrates in a booklet essay discussing the history of the Academy and Marriner with Handel's music. Philip Stuart, author of Marriner and the Academy: A Record Partnership, contributes a 'sessionography'.
SYMPHONY 9
LSO LIVE
SACD
$14.99
Feb 11, 2014
Bernard Haitink is internationally renowned for his interpretations of Bruckner and is widely recognized as the world's leading Bruckner conductor. Bruckner's symphonies are often described as 'Gothic cathedrals in sound,' an apt description considering the composer's devout faith and early vocation as an organist. He died before he could finish his Symphony No.9 but within it's three movements can be found some of his most complete music, imbued with a sense of deep solace and resolution.
Mahler: Symphony No 9 / Nott, Bamberg SO
Tudor
SACD
$26.99
Nov 17, 2009
Jonathan Nott’s Mahler cycle has now reached the fourth installment. Recordings have already been issued of the First Symphony, the Fifth Symphony and the Fourth. This is the first in the series to come my way.
Before considering the performance I think a few words about the recording itself may be helpful – I listened to these hybrid SACDs as conventional CDs. When I first started listening I thought that the sound appeared almost too close. In fact, I found that my ears soon adjusted as the performance continued and that I didn’t find the closeness to be as much of an issue on further hearings. I suppose the effect is rather akin to sitting just a few rows back from the stage in the concert hall. The orchestra sounds very ‘present’. There certainly seems to be a good spread of sound from one side of the platform, as it were, to the other but I’m less sure that there’s adequate front-to-back perspective. Another feature of the recording is that Nott has divided his violins left and right – of which I heartily approve. However, until the finale, where the strings dominate the scoring for much of the time, I couldn’t hear much of the viola, cello or double bass lines. In fact the strings as a whole are too easily swamped by the wind and brass sections in the first three movements.
For comparison I put on Simon Rattle’s Berliner Philharmoniker recording, which I so much admired in 2008 (see review by Tony Duggan). Here too the recording is fairly close but much more inner string detail is evident. I strongly suspect that the Tudor engineers have used a limited microphone array in an effort to present a truthful concert hall sound image whereas the EMI team have probably used multiple microphones placed within or above the orchestra in order to capture much more detail. I think the Tudor sound does indeed present the sort of sound that you’d hear in a concert hall – and Mahler’s scoring is very often wind- and brass-heavy – and it depends whether you want a recording for home listening to give you a concert hall perspective or whether you want as much detail as possible.
So you might want to sample the recording before purchasing. However, even if the sound is not quite your ideal – and, as I say, my ears adjusted quite quickly – sonic considerations aren’t everything here for Nott leads a fine performance of this magnificent, complex symphony.
He takes a fairly spacious view of I. In fact, at 29:46 his is one of the longest performances I know. Rattle is slightly quicker overall (28:56) but it’s interesting to note that some, though by no means all, conductors of the previous generation have taken less time over this movement. Barbirolli, for example, took 26:53 in his famous EMI Berlin recording, while Kubelik’s live 1975 reading (Audite) took 26:44. The celebrated 1938 Bruno Walter recording flashes by in 24:47. Have Mahler performances broadened over the years?
Nott may be spacious but throughout the movement his control and concentration are impressive. His reading isn’t as passionate as Rattle can be at times; it’s more patient. There were one or two occasions when I thought his speeds were just a little bit too measured but as a whole his reading is impressive. The climaxes are thrust home – at these points one has the impression that the orchestra is playing flat out – but the quiet passages often impress. For example the ghostly passage between 8: 01 and 9:47 is imaginatively presented with lots of good detail – I like the distanced muted horns, for instance. I think it would be fair to say that sometimes the violins sound just a little thin in alt and the string bass line is certainly underpowered – no doubt because one is so used, with many other conductors, to hearing the cellos and basses prominently through the right hand speaker. But, set against that I must say straightaway that much of the playing is vivid, the orchestra’s response is totally committed and there’s a lot of fine solo playing to admire. I have heard more dramatic, angst-ridden accounts of this amazingly rich movement but drama isn’t the whole story by any means and Nott’s account is very convincing and never less than wholly musical. He seems to see the whole movement in one long sweep and I admire his way with it very much.
The two inner movements go very well. There’s a good deal of sharply etched, piquant playing in II. Nott paces the music very well and he judges the many tempo modifications expertly. His reading of III is dynamic and thrusting. He and the engineers bring out a great deal of the teeming contrapuntal detail in the score. The trio (from 5:55) is taken at a suitably relaxed pace. This is nostalgic music but I like the fact that Nott never wallows in the sentiment; on the contrary, forward momentum is nicely maintained – and praise too for the solo trumpeter, whose silvery tone is just right. When the Rondo resumes (10:23) the music is turbulent and exciting right to the last bar.
The strings come into their own in the finale. The opening paragraphs are full-toned but the emotion is not overdone – Nott doesn’t play his cards too soon. The string playing is very good, the tone just weighty enough - and now we do hear a satisfyingly strong bass line. One rather special moment occurs between 4:05 and 4:54 where Nott obtains the most atmospheric playing imaginable from his strings. At this point the bass line is spectral with a wafer-thin violin line on top.
Nott unfolds the finale compellingly and the Bamberg strings and horn section in particular do him proud. Once again, this isn’t perhaps the most overtly emotional reading I’ve heard but the patience – perhaps even a degree of reserve? – brings its own rewards. Nott’s ability to take the long view and to build the movement incrementally means that when we reach the sustained ardent passage that lies at the heart of the movement (14:18 – 17:03) the effect is all the greater. The closing pages of this movement are always a huge test for players and conductor alike. Here the test is passed very successfully. During the last four minutes or so, starting with the second violin entry at 21:07, the music gradually winds down, all passion spent.
This Mahler Ninth is a very fine achievement. A host of great conductors and leading orchestras have essayed this symphony on disc over the years and though the seventeen versions on my own shelves don’t quite go from A to Z they do go from Barbirolli to Walter. This new version can certainly contend with the best of them and it’s one to which I’m sure I shall be returning frequently in the future.
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
Before considering the performance I think a few words about the recording itself may be helpful – I listened to these hybrid SACDs as conventional CDs. When I first started listening I thought that the sound appeared almost too close. In fact, I found that my ears soon adjusted as the performance continued and that I didn’t find the closeness to be as much of an issue on further hearings. I suppose the effect is rather akin to sitting just a few rows back from the stage in the concert hall. The orchestra sounds very ‘present’. There certainly seems to be a good spread of sound from one side of the platform, as it were, to the other but I’m less sure that there’s adequate front-to-back perspective. Another feature of the recording is that Nott has divided his violins left and right – of which I heartily approve. However, until the finale, where the strings dominate the scoring for much of the time, I couldn’t hear much of the viola, cello or double bass lines. In fact the strings as a whole are too easily swamped by the wind and brass sections in the first three movements.
For comparison I put on Simon Rattle’s Berliner Philharmoniker recording, which I so much admired in 2008 (see review by Tony Duggan). Here too the recording is fairly close but much more inner string detail is evident. I strongly suspect that the Tudor engineers have used a limited microphone array in an effort to present a truthful concert hall sound image whereas the EMI team have probably used multiple microphones placed within or above the orchestra in order to capture much more detail. I think the Tudor sound does indeed present the sort of sound that you’d hear in a concert hall – and Mahler’s scoring is very often wind- and brass-heavy – and it depends whether you want a recording for home listening to give you a concert hall perspective or whether you want as much detail as possible.
So you might want to sample the recording before purchasing. However, even if the sound is not quite your ideal – and, as I say, my ears adjusted quite quickly – sonic considerations aren’t everything here for Nott leads a fine performance of this magnificent, complex symphony.
He takes a fairly spacious view of I. In fact, at 29:46 his is one of the longest performances I know. Rattle is slightly quicker overall (28:56) but it’s interesting to note that some, though by no means all, conductors of the previous generation have taken less time over this movement. Barbirolli, for example, took 26:53 in his famous EMI Berlin recording, while Kubelik’s live 1975 reading (Audite) took 26:44. The celebrated 1938 Bruno Walter recording flashes by in 24:47. Have Mahler performances broadened over the years?
Nott may be spacious but throughout the movement his control and concentration are impressive. His reading isn’t as passionate as Rattle can be at times; it’s more patient. There were one or two occasions when I thought his speeds were just a little bit too measured but as a whole his reading is impressive. The climaxes are thrust home – at these points one has the impression that the orchestra is playing flat out – but the quiet passages often impress. For example the ghostly passage between 8: 01 and 9:47 is imaginatively presented with lots of good detail – I like the distanced muted horns, for instance. I think it would be fair to say that sometimes the violins sound just a little thin in alt and the string bass line is certainly underpowered – no doubt because one is so used, with many other conductors, to hearing the cellos and basses prominently through the right hand speaker. But, set against that I must say straightaway that much of the playing is vivid, the orchestra’s response is totally committed and there’s a lot of fine solo playing to admire. I have heard more dramatic, angst-ridden accounts of this amazingly rich movement but drama isn’t the whole story by any means and Nott’s account is very convincing and never less than wholly musical. He seems to see the whole movement in one long sweep and I admire his way with it very much.
The two inner movements go very well. There’s a good deal of sharply etched, piquant playing in II. Nott paces the music very well and he judges the many tempo modifications expertly. His reading of III is dynamic and thrusting. He and the engineers bring out a great deal of the teeming contrapuntal detail in the score. The trio (from 5:55) is taken at a suitably relaxed pace. This is nostalgic music but I like the fact that Nott never wallows in the sentiment; on the contrary, forward momentum is nicely maintained – and praise too for the solo trumpeter, whose silvery tone is just right. When the Rondo resumes (10:23) the music is turbulent and exciting right to the last bar.
The strings come into their own in the finale. The opening paragraphs are full-toned but the emotion is not overdone – Nott doesn’t play his cards too soon. The string playing is very good, the tone just weighty enough - and now we do hear a satisfyingly strong bass line. One rather special moment occurs between 4:05 and 4:54 where Nott obtains the most atmospheric playing imaginable from his strings. At this point the bass line is spectral with a wafer-thin violin line on top.
Nott unfolds the finale compellingly and the Bamberg strings and horn section in particular do him proud. Once again, this isn’t perhaps the most overtly emotional reading I’ve heard but the patience – perhaps even a degree of reserve? – brings its own rewards. Nott’s ability to take the long view and to build the movement incrementally means that when we reach the sustained ardent passage that lies at the heart of the movement (14:18 – 17:03) the effect is all the greater. The closing pages of this movement are always a huge test for players and conductor alike. Here the test is passed very successfully. During the last four minutes or so, starting with the second violin entry at 21:07, the music gradually winds down, all passion spent.
This Mahler Ninth is a very fine achievement. A host of great conductors and leading orchestras have essayed this symphony on disc over the years and though the seventeen versions on my own shelves don’t quite go from A to Z they do go from Barbirolli to Walter. This new version can certainly contend with the best of them and it’s one to which I’m sure I shall be returning frequently in the future.
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
Dvorak: Symphony No 9, Heldenlied / Nelsons
BR Klassik
CD
$19.99
Apr 30, 2013
DVORÁK Symphony No. 9, “From the New World” 1. Heldenlied, Op. 111 2 • Andris Nelsons, cond; Bavarian RSO • BR 900116 (64:17) Live: Munich 1 12/2010; 2 4/2012
No jaded reaction here to just another decent but unneeded Dvorák Ninth. This may be the most spectacular “From the New World” recording to hit the listings in, well, forever. The first thing to love about it is the recording itself. It’s not an SACD, but it’s speaker-blowing and eardrum-popping dynamic, with timpani rolls that will shiver your timbers, and massed brass and string Fortissimo s that will rattle your windows. Elsewhere, there are velvet string murmurings and delicate flute fluttering so sweet as to arrest the singing of birds outside in the trees.
The second thing to love about this performance—if, like me, you believe the symphony is called “ From the New World” (as in a letter being sent home), and not “ The New World,” for a reason—is that Andris Nelsons doesn’t try to make it sound either American or Czech. Rather, he sees the score for what it is, a mainstream late-Romantic symphony in the Austro-German tradition, exactly contemporaneous with Tchaikovsky’s “Pathétique”—both were written in 1893—and among the last to be completed in the 19th century.
Nelsons’s way with the work is very refreshing; it avoids common performance clichés that have arisen around the piece, like sentimentalizing the Largo and italicizing the alleged Native American melodies. The net effect is a cleansing one, similar to the sometimes astonishing results we witness when the paintings of old Renaissance masters are cleaned and restored. Suddenly the colors are brighter and details are revealed that were long hidden. Similarly, Nelsons’s reading of Dvorák’s Ninth Symphony makes it sound fresh and “new” all over again.
If this magnificent performance and recording of the Ninth were not enough, Nelsons gives us Dvorák’s last and least often recorded tone poem, Heldenlied (Hero’s Song), composed in 1897. Though classified as a tone poem, it’s a tone poem with no specific literary program or narrative. Formally, it’s a symphony contained within a single movement, but having four distinct sections that correspond to the four standard movements of a classical symphony. The work was premiered by Gustav Mahler and the Vienna Philharmonic in 1898.
As stunning as the recording of the Ninth Symphony is, the recording of Heldenlied , taken from another live performance 16 months later, has even more palpable presence. It made my far from inexpensive B&W speakers sound like Transmission Audio’s $2-million Ultimate speaker system, not that I’ve actually ever heard one.
This is one helluva CD. I’m not on the jury, but if I were, I’d give it the orchestral disc-of-all-time award. For a great Dvorák Ninth and a spectacular sonic experience, this is a must-have purchase.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
No jaded reaction here to just another decent but unneeded Dvorák Ninth. This may be the most spectacular “From the New World” recording to hit the listings in, well, forever. The first thing to love about it is the recording itself. It’s not an SACD, but it’s speaker-blowing and eardrum-popping dynamic, with timpani rolls that will shiver your timbers, and massed brass and string Fortissimo s that will rattle your windows. Elsewhere, there are velvet string murmurings and delicate flute fluttering so sweet as to arrest the singing of birds outside in the trees.
The second thing to love about this performance—if, like me, you believe the symphony is called “ From the New World” (as in a letter being sent home), and not “ The New World,” for a reason—is that Andris Nelsons doesn’t try to make it sound either American or Czech. Rather, he sees the score for what it is, a mainstream late-Romantic symphony in the Austro-German tradition, exactly contemporaneous with Tchaikovsky’s “Pathétique”—both were written in 1893—and among the last to be completed in the 19th century.
Nelsons’s way with the work is very refreshing; it avoids common performance clichés that have arisen around the piece, like sentimentalizing the Largo and italicizing the alleged Native American melodies. The net effect is a cleansing one, similar to the sometimes astonishing results we witness when the paintings of old Renaissance masters are cleaned and restored. Suddenly the colors are brighter and details are revealed that were long hidden. Similarly, Nelsons’s reading of Dvorák’s Ninth Symphony makes it sound fresh and “new” all over again.
If this magnificent performance and recording of the Ninth were not enough, Nelsons gives us Dvorák’s last and least often recorded tone poem, Heldenlied (Hero’s Song), composed in 1897. Though classified as a tone poem, it’s a tone poem with no specific literary program or narrative. Formally, it’s a symphony contained within a single movement, but having four distinct sections that correspond to the four standard movements of a classical symphony. The work was premiered by Gustav Mahler and the Vienna Philharmonic in 1898.
As stunning as the recording of the Ninth Symphony is, the recording of Heldenlied , taken from another live performance 16 months later, has even more palpable presence. It made my far from inexpensive B&W speakers sound like Transmission Audio’s $2-million Ultimate speaker system, not that I’ve actually ever heard one.
This is one helluva CD. I’m not on the jury, but if I were, I’d give it the orchestral disc-of-all-time award. For a great Dvorák Ninth and a spectacular sonic experience, this is a must-have purchase.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Rachmaninov: Symphonic Dances / Petrenko, Royal Liverpool Philharmonic
Avie Records
CD
$19.99
Mar 01, 2010
Vasily Petrenko (b. 1976) has been leading the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra since September 2006 and has recently extended his contract until at least 2015. His work on Merseyside has been drawing many very enthusiastic notices, including several on MusicWeb International. However, until now, with the exception of his recording of Sir John Tavener’s recent Requiem (see review) I’ve not heard any of his performances. If this thrilling disc is anything to go by then I’ve been missing something.
I’ve long thought that Rachmaninov’s Symphonic Dances ranks among his finest works but this new recording really made me sit up and take fresh notice. For that Petrenko and his orchestra must take a huge amount of credit. However, the quality of the recording itself also has much to do with it. I can only describe the sound on this CD as stunning. By chance, immediately before I put this new Avie disc in my player I’d been listening to Vladimir Ashkenazy’s 1983 Decca recording of Symphonic Dances and The Isle of the Dead. Those are extremely fine performances, splendidly recorded by Decca in the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam. On that disc the sound is warm, yet very clear and there’s a good deal of space round the orchestra – I strongly suspect the orchestra was set out on the auditorium floor in the empty Concertgebouw. This Avie recording offers a very different experience for the sound is closer – though not oppressively so – and very present.
Producer John Fraser and Engineer David A. Pigott have produced here one of the best recordings of a symphony orchestra that I’ve heard in a very long time. The orchestra is, as I said, very present yet very natural also. The recording offers a wide side-to-side perspective and also very good front-to-back definition. There’s an abundance of detail to hear – the percussion thrillingly reported and the brass impressive without ever sounding domineering – yet without any sense of artificial spotlighting of sections or individual instruments. With a satisfyingly rich bass foundation and an impressive dynamic range this recording presents the orchestra in a most exciting and very musical way. The sound has terrific definition, not least in the quiet passages, and packs a real punch at climaxes. Best of all, the recording lets you hear just how impressive the performances are. For the orchestra there are few hiding places in Symphonic Dances, especially when the sound is as clear and detailed as this, but the RLPO are consistently sure-footed.
The quality of the recording and Petrenko’s care over balance got my attention from the first bars of Symphonic Dances. The very opening is light, crisp and delicate after which the bold string chords have a most impressive weight. Petrenko drives the music forward with vigour but never overplays his hand. The saxophone solo (from 3:26) is lovingly phrased, imparting just the right feeling of wistful nostalgia. In the succeeding passage (to 5:46) there’s some excellent woodwind playing – and not for the last time on this disc, either. When the strings take up the melody it sings gloriously – and between them Petrenko and the engineers balance the accompaniment of harp and piano perfectly. The eventual return to the movement’s opening material is at first suspenseful and then very exciting. Rachmaninov’s self-quotation from his First Symphony is warmly delivered but without any over-indulgence.
If I have a small criticism it concerns the brevity of the gaps between the movements. There’s a mere two seconds between the first and second dances – the Ashkenazy disc has some six seconds – and only three seconds between the second and third movements. Just a little more time would have been welcome. The second movement is a spectral, awkward waltz: in the memorable phrase of annotator Anthony Bateman “Evening has brought its ghosts”. Petrenko shapes the music with great imagination, conjuring up for this listener at least an image of a dimly lit and faded ballroom that has rather gone to seed. The RLPO strings play splendidly, with plenty of body to their tone – and their woodwind colleagues offer equally fine playing. Petrenko is alive to all the nuances and subtle inflections of Rachmaninov’s music. His is a colourful and well-imagined reading and he draws really responsive playing from his orchestra. Among many details that I relished is the nutty tone of the violas between 7:05 and 7:23 followed by the sound of really hushed violins and a doleful bassoon.
Once Petrenko reaches the main material of the third dance his reading has abundant energy but, rightly, there’s more than a sense of foreboding as well. As a sample of the impressive way in which soft passages are handled, sample the rather sinister passage introduced by the bass clarinet (5:04). Shortly afterwards (6:60 – 9:55) the long, brooding string paragraph, in which the RLPO players excel, is surely Rachmaninov revisiting his Second Symphony but with a melancholy air, knowing that those days are gone for ever. In the last five or six minutes Petrenko urges his players on to an exciting yet darkly-tinged conclusion. In these pages the tambourine, tam-tam and xylophone contributions are magnificently caught by the microphones and the dramatic last few bars bring a superb performance of the work to a tumultuous conclusion.
Recently, I was greatly taken with a live performance of The Isle of the Dead conducted by Evgeny Svetlanov (see review). I found that reading enthralling but its very expansiveness probably courts controversy and will not be to all tastes. Petrenko’s reading is more mainstream, if I may put it that way, in terms of pacing. His account, at 20:58. lasts for almost the same time as Ashkenazy’s (20:52) and is similar in length to several other recordings on my shelves. Mind you, it is salutary to note that the composer’s own 1929 recording with the Philadelphia Orchestra lasts a “mere” 18:05 and even after eighty years that recording still sounds well – and packs a real interpretative punch!
Petrenko isn’t in the Svetlanov league when it comes to expansiveness but his interpretation is still full of brooding power – and his performance affords better playing than we hear on the Svetlanov disc and, as you’d expect, comes in much better sound. This Liverpool account establishes a very potent atmosphere right from the outset. There’s dark grandeur in the playing – and in Petrenko’s conception of the work. As in Symphonic Dances the excellence of the sound supports Petrenko’s balancing of the orchestra magnificently. Between 7:22 and 7:44, for example, the balance between the cello tune and the woodwind decoration round it is outstandingly successful. Later on (8:04 – 9:40) the ear is impressed mightily by sonorous brass, pounding timpani and weighty strings.
Petrenko builds the piece to an impressive and potent central climax, thrillingly reported by the recording, but the way he winds the tension down in the following bars is just as noteworthy. Later on, he invests the urgent, surging string passage (11:23 - 12:59) with real ardour and the main climax of the piece (around 15:30) is shattering in its intensity. As Charon, the boatman, rows back across the Styx from the Isle, his work done for now, the opening music returns and Petrenko controls the sombre conclusion very effectively.
In a way I wish the disc had ended there; the piece that’s placed last would have been a more satisfying opener, I believe. The Rock is a youthful work but a significant achievement nonetheless by the twenty-year-old composer. Apparently Tchaikovsky admired the piece and it’s not hard to see why for the scoring is attractive and the invention is strong. For much of its course the nature of the music is much lighter than that of the other two works on the disc. Petrenko conducts with grace and affection but also does the powerful stretches towards the end very well. In the first few minutes the principal flute, Cormac Henry, has a lot of demanding solo work and he shines under the spotlight that Rachmaninov trains on him. Another example of finesse that caught my ear was the exquisite passage of string tremolandi between 7:04 and 7:39 – it’s details such as this that puts the stamp of distinction on this release. As a piece The Rock may not be the equal of the other works on this disc but it has many attractions and it receives a very fine performance here.
As I hope I’ve conveyed, this is an exceptional disc in every way. It’s one that I’ve enjoyed enormously but I also admire it greatly as an achievement both on the part of the musicians and of the engineers. If you’ve wondered why so much fuss is being made about the work that Vasily Petrenko is doing with the RLPO then this superb CD should provide the answer. Already, in early February, this disc is on my shortlist of Recordings of the Year.
One final thought. Could Avie be persuaded to record this team in Rachmaninov’s Second Symphony? If Petrenko and the RLPO could recapture in a recording of that great, sweeping symphony the form shown on this disc then the result would be a serious challenge to the longstanding hegemony of André Previn’s 1973 recording with the LSO (EMI). Meanwhile, don’t wait to see if that disc appears. Buy this one – now! I doubt you’ll regret it and I hope it will excite you as much as it has excited me.
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
I’ve long thought that Rachmaninov’s Symphonic Dances ranks among his finest works but this new recording really made me sit up and take fresh notice. For that Petrenko and his orchestra must take a huge amount of credit. However, the quality of the recording itself also has much to do with it. I can only describe the sound on this CD as stunning. By chance, immediately before I put this new Avie disc in my player I’d been listening to Vladimir Ashkenazy’s 1983 Decca recording of Symphonic Dances and The Isle of the Dead. Those are extremely fine performances, splendidly recorded by Decca in the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam. On that disc the sound is warm, yet very clear and there’s a good deal of space round the orchestra – I strongly suspect the orchestra was set out on the auditorium floor in the empty Concertgebouw. This Avie recording offers a very different experience for the sound is closer – though not oppressively so – and very present.
Producer John Fraser and Engineer David A. Pigott have produced here one of the best recordings of a symphony orchestra that I’ve heard in a very long time. The orchestra is, as I said, very present yet very natural also. The recording offers a wide side-to-side perspective and also very good front-to-back definition. There’s an abundance of detail to hear – the percussion thrillingly reported and the brass impressive without ever sounding domineering – yet without any sense of artificial spotlighting of sections or individual instruments. With a satisfyingly rich bass foundation and an impressive dynamic range this recording presents the orchestra in a most exciting and very musical way. The sound has terrific definition, not least in the quiet passages, and packs a real punch at climaxes. Best of all, the recording lets you hear just how impressive the performances are. For the orchestra there are few hiding places in Symphonic Dances, especially when the sound is as clear and detailed as this, but the RLPO are consistently sure-footed.
The quality of the recording and Petrenko’s care over balance got my attention from the first bars of Symphonic Dances. The very opening is light, crisp and delicate after which the bold string chords have a most impressive weight. Petrenko drives the music forward with vigour but never overplays his hand. The saxophone solo (from 3:26) is lovingly phrased, imparting just the right feeling of wistful nostalgia. In the succeeding passage (to 5:46) there’s some excellent woodwind playing – and not for the last time on this disc, either. When the strings take up the melody it sings gloriously – and between them Petrenko and the engineers balance the accompaniment of harp and piano perfectly. The eventual return to the movement’s opening material is at first suspenseful and then very exciting. Rachmaninov’s self-quotation from his First Symphony is warmly delivered but without any over-indulgence.
If I have a small criticism it concerns the brevity of the gaps between the movements. There’s a mere two seconds between the first and second dances – the Ashkenazy disc has some six seconds – and only three seconds between the second and third movements. Just a little more time would have been welcome. The second movement is a spectral, awkward waltz: in the memorable phrase of annotator Anthony Bateman “Evening has brought its ghosts”. Petrenko shapes the music with great imagination, conjuring up for this listener at least an image of a dimly lit and faded ballroom that has rather gone to seed. The RLPO strings play splendidly, with plenty of body to their tone – and their woodwind colleagues offer equally fine playing. Petrenko is alive to all the nuances and subtle inflections of Rachmaninov’s music. His is a colourful and well-imagined reading and he draws really responsive playing from his orchestra. Among many details that I relished is the nutty tone of the violas between 7:05 and 7:23 followed by the sound of really hushed violins and a doleful bassoon.
Once Petrenko reaches the main material of the third dance his reading has abundant energy but, rightly, there’s more than a sense of foreboding as well. As a sample of the impressive way in which soft passages are handled, sample the rather sinister passage introduced by the bass clarinet (5:04). Shortly afterwards (6:60 – 9:55) the long, brooding string paragraph, in which the RLPO players excel, is surely Rachmaninov revisiting his Second Symphony but with a melancholy air, knowing that those days are gone for ever. In the last five or six minutes Petrenko urges his players on to an exciting yet darkly-tinged conclusion. In these pages the tambourine, tam-tam and xylophone contributions are magnificently caught by the microphones and the dramatic last few bars bring a superb performance of the work to a tumultuous conclusion.
Recently, I was greatly taken with a live performance of The Isle of the Dead conducted by Evgeny Svetlanov (see review). I found that reading enthralling but its very expansiveness probably courts controversy and will not be to all tastes. Petrenko’s reading is more mainstream, if I may put it that way, in terms of pacing. His account, at 20:58. lasts for almost the same time as Ashkenazy’s (20:52) and is similar in length to several other recordings on my shelves. Mind you, it is salutary to note that the composer’s own 1929 recording with the Philadelphia Orchestra lasts a “mere” 18:05 and even after eighty years that recording still sounds well – and packs a real interpretative punch!
Petrenko isn’t in the Svetlanov league when it comes to expansiveness but his interpretation is still full of brooding power – and his performance affords better playing than we hear on the Svetlanov disc and, as you’d expect, comes in much better sound. This Liverpool account establishes a very potent atmosphere right from the outset. There’s dark grandeur in the playing – and in Petrenko’s conception of the work. As in Symphonic Dances the excellence of the sound supports Petrenko’s balancing of the orchestra magnificently. Between 7:22 and 7:44, for example, the balance between the cello tune and the woodwind decoration round it is outstandingly successful. Later on (8:04 – 9:40) the ear is impressed mightily by sonorous brass, pounding timpani and weighty strings.
Petrenko builds the piece to an impressive and potent central climax, thrillingly reported by the recording, but the way he winds the tension down in the following bars is just as noteworthy. Later on, he invests the urgent, surging string passage (11:23 - 12:59) with real ardour and the main climax of the piece (around 15:30) is shattering in its intensity. As Charon, the boatman, rows back across the Styx from the Isle, his work done for now, the opening music returns and Petrenko controls the sombre conclusion very effectively.
In a way I wish the disc had ended there; the piece that’s placed last would have been a more satisfying opener, I believe. The Rock is a youthful work but a significant achievement nonetheless by the twenty-year-old composer. Apparently Tchaikovsky admired the piece and it’s not hard to see why for the scoring is attractive and the invention is strong. For much of its course the nature of the music is much lighter than that of the other two works on the disc. Petrenko conducts with grace and affection but also does the powerful stretches towards the end very well. In the first few minutes the principal flute, Cormac Henry, has a lot of demanding solo work and he shines under the spotlight that Rachmaninov trains on him. Another example of finesse that caught my ear was the exquisite passage of string tremolandi between 7:04 and 7:39 – it’s details such as this that puts the stamp of distinction on this release. As a piece The Rock may not be the equal of the other works on this disc but it has many attractions and it receives a very fine performance here.
As I hope I’ve conveyed, this is an exceptional disc in every way. It’s one that I’ve enjoyed enormously but I also admire it greatly as an achievement both on the part of the musicians and of the engineers. If you’ve wondered why so much fuss is being made about the work that Vasily Petrenko is doing with the RLPO then this superb CD should provide the answer. Already, in early February, this disc is on my shortlist of Recordings of the Year.
One final thought. Could Avie be persuaded to record this team in Rachmaninov’s Second Symphony? If Petrenko and the RLPO could recapture in a recording of that great, sweeping symphony the form shown on this disc then the result would be a serious challenge to the longstanding hegemony of André Previn’s 1973 recording with the LSO (EMI). Meanwhile, don’t wait to see if that disc appears. Buy this one – now! I doubt you’ll regret it and I hope it will excite you as much as it has excited me.
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International