Nielsen: Symphonies Nos. 4 (“The
Inextinguishable”) and 5. Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra conducted
by Sakari Oramo. BIS. $21.99 (SACD).
Brahms: Symphonies Nos. 1 and 2.
London Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Vladimir Jurowski. LPO. $17.99 (2
CDs).
Brahms: Symphonies Nos. 3 and 4.
London Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Vladimir Jurowski. LPO. $16.99.
Carl Nielsen gets some
respect as a symphonist, but on the basis of the excellent BIS recording of his
Fourth and Fifth Symphonies by the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra under
Sakari Oramo, not nearly enough. Oramo’s handling of this music is simply
superb, from an opening of No. 4 that will make listeners sit up and take
notice, if not fall out of their seats, through the altogether softer and more
emotionally compelling middle movements, to a finale that starts with amazingly
fast but perfectly controlled strings and ends with an upbeat positivity that is
tremendously exciting. The four movements of this symphony are played without
pause, and Oramo takes full advantage of that structure to turn the music into
a single grand sweep of emotion, pulling the audience back and forth among a
myriad of interconnected feelings, faithfully accepting Nielsen’s assertion
that this symphony was designed to express the things in humanity and music
itself that are ultimately inextinguishable – a tremendously difficult and
highly admirable goal for a work written smack in the middle of World War I
(the symphony dates to 1914-16). And then Oramo delivers every bit as
monumental and compelling a performance of the Fifth (1921-22), a frequently
bizarre two-movement work whose opening looks ahead to the first movement of
Shostakovich’s Seventh but whose use of the side drum (brilliantly played by
Daniel Kåse) is even stronger
and stranger than the Russian’s of two decades later. The Fifth is one of only
two Nielsen symphonies without a subtitle (the First is the other), and indeed
it is hard to encapsulate this work’s intentions and meaning in a few words. It
is in some respects a continuation of the struggle of the Fourth, in others a
deeper consideration of the cacophonous postwar world and the eternal battle
between the forces of dark and those of light. It is a far larger work than its
34-minute running time would indicate, being in some respects as world-encapsulating
as Mahler’s twice-as-long symphonies and in others as compressed as the
symphonies of Sibelius. Oramo has a clear vision for the complexity and
emotional difficulty of this symphony, and the orchestra communicates it highly
effectively, abetted by outstanding sound that not only allows the crashing
climaxes to have their full effect but also puts the many quiet passages of
both symphonies in just the right perspective. This is the first release in a
planned Nielsen cycle by Oramo and the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra,
and it cannot but whet listeners’ appetites for the upcoming ones.
The more-familiar symphonies
of Brahms are grand and expansive where those of Nielsen are grand and
compressed, and first-rate interpretations of them abound, while top-notch ones
of Nielsen are decidedly rarer. The cycle by Vladimir Jurowski and the London
Philharmonic Orchestra, consisting entirely of live recordings from 2010 and
2011, has a number of significant high points, coupled with some low ones that
are rather surprising in performances by this usually thoughtful conductor. The
pluses and minuses are abundantly clear in Jurowski’s reading of the First and
Second. The latter is excellent, in line with what listeners familiar with
Jurowski’s conducting will likely expect. The rhapsodic lyricism of this
symphony is everywhere apparent despite the rather quick tempos, the orchestra
plays beautifully, and the interpretation is filled with small, felicitous
touches that the fine recording brings out very well. For example, the
diminuendo at the end of the third movement and the full-throated display of
orchestral brilliance after the hushed opening of the finale are both performed
and captured beautifully. But the First, somewhat surprisingly in view of
Jurowski’s penchant for dramatic music, is disappointing. Here too the tempos
are quick, but in this case they feel rushed, and here the details work against
the music instead of with it. Most notably, the opening of the first movement
is sped up so it nearly matches the Allegro
that follows it, essentially making the movement seem to be at a single tempo
when it is really at two (and requiring some very fast timpani playing at the
start of the symphony). The whole movement has a breathless quality that
certainly results in (and from) a rethinking of Brahms, but does not work to
the music’s benefit – the whole thing seems somewhat lightweight. Also, the
orchestra itself sounds less full here than in the recording of the Second
(which was made four months later) – and the sound is thin, too, adding to an
overall impression of insubstantiality that is at odds with the music and, if
meant to be a new way to look at and hear Brahms, is an unconvincing one.
Brahms is often made, unfortunately, to sound heavy and ponderous, but having
his music come across as lightweight is no improvement.
The recording of the Third
and Fourth is more consistent and more successful. The woodwinds are particular
standouts on this CD, and here Jurowski and the sonic engineers achieve a
balance between a thinner, more-transparent sound and a full display of the
well-balanced sections of the orchestra. Most tempos here are somewhat more
relaxed than in the First and Second, and the prominent use of string portamento – while it may not be to all
listeners’ taste – gives the symphonies a pleasantly old-fashioned sound. The
best thing about these performances is Jurowski’s emphasis on the long lines of
the music – the Third almost seems like a continuous movement from start to
finish, and the finale of the Fourth, which can seem episodic as it progresses
through its 30 variations, here has sweep and vitality combined in an
attractive package that crowns the symphony as well as the entire set of
four. There is a freshness to these
performances that goes beyond the notion of a simple attempt to do something different
– that attempt appears to be what misfires in the First. This is not to say
that the readings are flawless. To attain the continuity of the Third, for
example, Jurowski takes the second movement rather quickly, certainly not as
the Andante that Brahms calls for, and
because this comes on the heels of a rather speedy first movement, the approach
takes some getting used to. And although the symphony’s finale is well-paced
and well-played, its mysterious opening gets short shrift here. In the Fourth,
the first movement has plenty of ebb and flow, but is somewhat lacking in depth
of feeling, and the third movement is taken at so headlong a pace that
listeners will likely respond to it with surprise – although it must be said
that Jurowski balances the sound well and provides, overall, a genuinely
thrilling effect along the lines that one hears more often in a Tchaikovsky
scherzo than in Brahms. Jurowski takes lots of chances in all these well-worn
pieces, providing a considerable number of insights despite drifting astray
from time to time, most notably in the First. The quick pacing and
comparatively transparent orchestral sound mark these interpretations as
“rethinkings” of Brahms, and certainly these symphonies can stand some of that.
However, there is such a thing as over-thinking, or over-rethinking, and
Jurowski is guilty of some of it: Brahms is a composer of considerable depth,
and even in the best elements of this Brahms cycle, depth tends to be missing. There
is a superficiality here that does not go particularly well with the music – but
there is, at the same time, a salutary willingness to see the works in a
different way and to try out an approach to them that, if not always
successful, is filled with intriguing touches.
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