Sibelius: Symphonies Nos. 1-7;
Three Late Fragments. BBC Philharmonic conducted by John Storgårds. Chandos. $37.99 (3 CDs).
Shostakovich: Symphony No. 14.
Gal James, soprano; Alexander Vinogradov, baritone; Royal Liverpool
Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Vasily Petrenko. Naxos. $9.99.
Mahler: Symphony No. 1.
Stuttgarter Philharmoniker conducted by Gabriel Feltz. Dreyer Gaido. $18.99.
Muscular and sinewy, the
Sibelius symphony cycle conducted by John Storgårds for Chandos combines near-intuitive understanding of
Sibelius’ worldview as expressed in these works with excellent playing by the
BBC Philharmonic that brings out elegance after elegance in the scoring. Warm
and expansive readings of Nos. 1 and 2, which place Sibelius firmly in the 19th-century
Romantic tradition but also show him starting to burst its bounds, lead to an
opening movement of No. 3 that fairly strides forward into new territory,
giving this less-played symphony a position of significantly greater importance
in Sibelius’ music than it usually receives. The Storgårds approach is like that, reconsidering the relative position
of each symphony within the cycle and showcasing elements of each – inner
voices, intriguing harmonies, unusual aspects of instrumentation – that usually
get less attention than this conductor gives them. The seriousness of this
cycle is undoubted, its effect exhilarating: listeners who choose to hear the
symphonies in order (a bit of a chore, since their arrangement is
non-sequential in order to get the whole cycle on three CDs) will find the
contrast between the bright and involving No. 3 and the strange, unsettled and
distancing No. 4 particularly telling. No. 5 grows organically from start to
finish, and the soaring theme of the finale – likely inspired by a flight of
swans that Sibelius saw – rises particularly elegantly here. The outdoorsy
expansiveness of this symphony stands in stark contrast with the decidedly
inward-looking No. 6, which flows gently and poetically in Storgårds’s interpretation, finally
wafting away like a sigh. And No. 7 neatly straddles the line between symphony
and fantasia, with Storgårds
shaping it carefully, paying attention to its structural elements while also
letting it flow freely and warmly. This set also includes a small bonus in the
form of three symphonic fragments that may have been planned for the
long-sought, probably destroyed Eighth Symphony. They are labeled for the Helsinki
University Library: HUL 1325, HUL1326/9 and HUL1327/2, and all have a definite
whiff of Sibelius about them – but are so short that any plans the composer may
have had for their use are impossible to determine. (There is also a fourth
fragment, HUL 1326/10, that has been recorded on BIS but is not played here.) The
reality is that the seven symphonies are almost certainly all we will ever have
from Sibelius, and having them in performances as ravishing as Storgårds’ makes the cycle seem quite
complete and very meaningful.
Vasily Petrenko’s
sensitivity to the music of Shostakovich rivals that of Storgårds to the works of Sibelius. The
penultimate release in Petrenko’s Shostakovich cycle for Naxos – only No. 13
has yet to appear – is at the same excellent level as all the others.
Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 14 is closer to a Mahler song cycle than any of the
composer’s other symphonies, but without the structural unity that Mahler
brought to, say, Das Lied von der Erde.
Shostakovich here sets 11 poems about death, considering the end of life from
many perspectives – from the legendary (“Lorelei”) to the highly personal (“At
the Santé Prison”). Petrenko’s
soloists are particularly well-suited to the music, with Gal James’ slightly
shrill soprano fitting the texts well and the deep, resonant baritone of
Alexander Vinogradov slipping warmly and firmly into the music from start to
finish. But what Petrenko does that sets his reading of this symphony on such a
high plane is to regard the work as a true symphony, accepting the groupings of
poems as being, in effect, symphonic movements, and bringing out very cleanly
the elements that appear here and are clearly symphonic in Shostakovich’s
non-vocal works – the very beginning of “On Watch,” for example. This is a
deeply pessimistic work by most standards, but Petrenko has an interesting way
of drawing some level of comfort from it – not the comfort of some sort of life
after death (in which Shostakovich did not believe), but an affirmation of the
essential humanity of all people, united through their inevitable facing of
death in some way and at some time. Petrenko’s performance is a well-organized
and deeply moving one, with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra once
again playing with eloquence and understanding, and the result is a
Shostakovich Fourteenth that stands at the same level as the other entries in
this series – and that is a very high level indeed.
The playing of the
Stuttgarter Philharmoniker is equally elegant and sumptuous in Gabriel Feltz’s
new Dreyer Gaido recording of Mahler’s First Symphony. But Feltz makes a number
of missteps in interpretation that result in a (+++) rating for the disc,
despite the quality of the orchestra and recording. The first movement raises
hopes for the overall performance quite high, with its delicacy, fine pacing ,
sense of style and careful instrumental balance. But then things go awry. The
second movement starts very slowly indeed, rendering its central section much
less of a contrast than it should be – and then the last part is taken quite
quickly rather than as a reprise of the opening, spoiling the entire structure,
which after all is that of a scherzo with trio. The third movement also wavers
in tempo in ways that Mahler did not call for, and the finale is even more
capricious in its frequent rubato,
tempo modifications where none should be, and Feltz’s overall attempt to
extract strong emotion from the music by changing its pace and flow frequently
and significantly. Although a conductor’s interpretations often include
elements not written into the music by the composer, this is far less justified
in Mahler than elsewhere: Mahler was himself a highly skilled and prominent
conductor, and he was perfectly capable of requesting special effects and tempo
changes when he wanted them. Indeed, many of his scores are littered with
meticulous instructions on how to perform them – and while a conductor may have
good reason to ignore some of what Mahler indicated (because instruments and
playing styles are different today), there is little reason to make wholesale
emendations of a score as carefully constructed as that of Mahler’s First.
Feltz has some good ideas about emphasis and sectional balance in this
interpretation, but he undermines his own intentions by turning the performance
into one in which the focus is more on the conductor than on the music.
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