Nielsen: Symphonies Nos. 1-6.
Janáček Philharmonic Orchestra
conducted by Theodore Kuchar. Brilliant Classics. $16.99 (3 CDs).
Nielsen: Symphonies Nos. 2 (“The
Four Temperaments”) and 3 (“Sinfonia espansiva”). New York Philharmonic
conducted by Alan Gilbert. Dacapo. $16.99 (SACD).
Carl Nielsen’s six
symphonies are among the most varied of those by any symphonist. All Mahler symphonies are recognizably
Mahlerian, all Bruckner ones clearly Brucknerian, all by Brahms decidedly Brahmsian,
all from Sibelius definitely Sibelian; but each of Nielsen’s six sounds so
different from the others that it can be difficult to recognize what they have
in common – other than extraordinary creativity of design and highly unusual
approaches to form and orchestration. A
Nielsen cycle is in many ways harder to conduct than other surveys of
composers’ symphonies: each work needs to be thought of quite differently and
handled in a different style. Theodore
Kuchar and the Janáček Philharmonic
Orchestra (the former Czech Radio Orchestra) do a more than creditable job with
the cycle, and the excellent pricing of their three-CD set makes this a very
attractive journey through Nielsen's symphonic output.
The orchestra is not
quite at the highest European level, with some harshness in ensemble,
comparatively thin string sounds, and brass that lacks the warmth and richness
found in some other orchestras. But the
musicians play with sureness and enthusiasm and give Kuchar plenty of volume
when he calls for it – and some lovely soft passages when he requires
them. Symphony No. 1, distinguished for
starting in one key (G minor) and ending in another (C major), is the Nielsen
symphony most firmly grounded in the Germanic tradition, and it gets an upbeat,
enthusiastic reading here, although the finale, marked Allegro con fuoco, is not quite as dramatic as it can be. No. 2, “The Four Temperaments,” is a highly
unusual work, combining the structural elements of a symphony with the
storytelling of a tone poem to illustrate the old idea of four types of people,
their personalities determined by “bodily humors”: choleric, phlegmatic,
melancholic and sanguine. Contrasts
among the movements need to be pronounced, with great intensity in the outer movements
and considerable relaxation in the inner ones.
An over-the-top approach works well here. Kuchar is a touch too controlled, and there
is not quite enough contrast between the opening movement (choleric: ambitious,
aggressive, passionate) and the finale (sanguine: impulsive, sociable,
charismatic). But the middle movements
are handled very well, and the very end of the finale has highly welcome
intensity.
Symphony No. 3,
“Sinfonia espansiva,” features a dual-voice vocalise in the slow movement and a
particularly effective scherzo, but a finale that can easily become plodding
because of the blandness of its thematic material. In this essentially pastoral work, Kuchar
does very well indeed, allowing each movement its own flavor and preventing the
finale from becoming a disappointment through a well-chosen tempo and a
willingness to keep pushing the movement ahead, simply not allowing it to
flag. No. 4, “The Inextinguishable,” is
tense, violent and often quite loud, more modern in sound than the first three
symphonies, more menacing and far more filled with struggle. Kuchar here is a touch too mild: the finale,
especially, could use more bite before its upbeat conclusion. The timpani explosion before the affirmative
ending is played very well but rather judiciously – something a touch more
frantic would have been more effective.
This performance is effective but not as involving as it could be.
No. 5, though, is
excellent. This is a more chaotic,
inventive and difficult symphony than No. 4, cast in only two movements,
including a banal first-movement march that anticipates the one in
Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 7 by two decades and also requiring a snare drum at
one point to try to interrupt and derail the rest of the orchestra – by playing
ad libitum. The second movement’s strong rhythms are very
well accentuated here, and the symphony’s overall effect of noisy drama (ending
in triumph, as did No. 4) comes through quite clearly. And then there is No. 6, a genuinely peculiar
work that bears almost no resemblance to any other symphony by Nielsen or
anybody else. Its title, “Sinfonia
semplice,” is tongue-in-cheek, since it is far from simple to perform or hear. It is a truly weird work, mixing delicate
beauty with sarcasm and percussion; it is nearly atonal except when it is
thoroughly immersed in tonality; it is far sparser-sounding than the earlier
symphonies; and it ends with what amounts to a stick-out-your-tongue raspberry,
cocking a snook at the audience. It is
extremely hard to make sense of this symphony, which at several points sounds
like Shostakovich – late Shostakovich
– but flexibility and a willingness to see elements of it as a colossal and very
sophisticated joke are absolutely necessary.
How else to regard the frequently and raucously interrupted waltz of the
finale, for example? Kuchar is a touch
too sober and emphatic in this symphony, missing some of the nuances of
absurdity even though he and the orchestra manage the rhythms and bizarre
sectional balances very well. This
Nielsen cycle is certainly worth having at its bargain price, although it is
scarcely the last word on the symphonies (there is unlikely ever to be one) and
presents somewhat uneven interpretations.
Perhaps “The Nielsen
Project” of all the symphonies and concertos conducted by Alan Gilbert will
prove superior on all levels, but on the basis of the (+++) first release, of Symphonies
Nos. 2 and 3, the project’s overall success is less than certain. Gilbert, music director of the New York Philharmonic
since 2009, has garnered praise from many quarters and is considered something
of a great and grand hope for the orchestra – which, in truth, sounds better on
this recording than it has in years (helped by some absolutely top-notch SACD
sound). But Gilbert has perhaps started
his Nielsen cycle a bit too soon in his career, since there is a certain
casualness to his interpretations that suggests he would do well to spend more
time with the music. Symphony No. 3 is
the better of these two by far. The
orchestra plays with outstanding warmth, the rhythms are supple, the first
movement sounds truly expansive (its tempo marking, Allegro espansivo, gives the symphony its title), and the vocalise
in the slow movement is lovely. The
finale, though, is on the plodding side, with Gilbert nicely balancing the
sections of the orchestra but allowing the movement as a whole to sag and flag
from time to time – introducing elements of rhythmic flabbiness not heard
elsewhere in this interpretation. It is
certainly not a bad finale, but it is not up to the quality of the first three
movements. And Symphony No. 2 is a real
disappointment. There is simply not
enough differentiation among these temperaments: the interpretation as a whole,
not just the second movement, is phlegmatic.
Although the playing in this January-February 2011 live recording is as
good as in Symphony No. 3, which was recorded live in June 2012, Symphony No. 2
does not seem to engage Gilbert and the orchestra as No. 3 does. The finale, in particular, is far too sedate
– very far from sanguine. The coda is
paced as if it is as stately as that of Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony – there is
no headlong rush to a finish here. On
the basis of this disc, Gilbert has gotten the New York Philharmonic to pay
close attention to what he wants and to play with more warmth and flexibility
than it has shown in years. But the
orchestra’s skill has been put at the service of interpretations that are
little better than mundane. Nielsen
deserves better, and hopefully will get it as “The Nielsen Project” progresses.
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