Nielsen: Symphonies Nos. 1 and 4 (“The
Inextinguishable”). New York Philharmonic conducted by Alan Gilbert.
Dacapo. $16.99 (SACD).
Bruckner: Symphony No. 3—original
version (1873). Orchestre Métropolitain
conducted by Yannick Nézet-Séguin. ATMA Classique. $16.99.
Beethoven: Piano Sonatas Nos. 14
(“Moonlight”) and 29 (“Hammerklavier”); excerpts from “The Ruins of Athens.”
Alessio Bax, piano. Signum Classics. $17.99.
Ernst Bacon: Complete Works for
Solo Guitar. Bradley Colten, guitar. Azica. $16.99.
Alan Gilbert’s second entry
in Dacapo’s “Nielsen Project” of all the symphonies and concertos shares the
strengths and weaknesses of his first offering, which included Symphonies Nos.
2 and 3. The new SACD boasts splendid sound and far better playing by the New
York Philharmonic than it has offered since the days of Leonard Bernstein,
which ended 25 years ago. At the same time, the disc leaves the impression that
Gilbert is not quite up to the demands of this music, perhaps not fully
comfortable with it or not yet able to think it through in a way that would
give it an overarching shape to meld its disparate elements. Nielsen’s six
symphonies are highly individualistic, both singly and as a group, and each
needs a very different approach for full effect. Gilbert’s readings are more
cookie-cutter, highlighting similarities among the works (of which there certainly
are some) while downplaying the differences (of which there are many). The fact
that Nielsen repeatedly contrasts near-violent loud and fast passages with
quiet ones that seem almost to drift dreamily is clear enough here – but the
balancing of the importance of these two stylistic elements is missing: Gilbert
relishes the intensity but becomes unfocused, even flabby, in the rhythms of
the more-thoughtful sections. He also seems, oddly, to hold back a bit when the
big climaxes become too big, notably
in the “timpani duel” of Symphony No. 4, which is simply not as intense and
gripping as it needs to be in order to pave the way for the sense of positive
completion that succeeds it. Symphony
No. 1, on the other hand, strides forth tempestuously from its opening notes,
but soon calms down to a level of overdone placidity – the music need not
subside into quietude and a lack of forward impetus, but it does here. On
balance, the First is more successful in this recording, its fundamentally
classical balance providing it with a graspable structure that the Fourth –
which is essentially a single extended movement – does not inherently possess.
The Fourth tosses and turns, pulling the audience hither and yon before
eventually reaching the affirmation of its title – that music, like life
itself, is ultimately inextinguishable. But the elements of the struggle toward
that conclusion are downplayed by Gilbert, so the eventual sense of triumph is
lessened and muted. The First has less-lofty goals, and Gilbert handles the
unusual elements of its structure – it starts in one key and ends in a
different one – with understanding, if not with any particular sense of élan.
These recordings of live performances from March 2014 show Gilbert in fine
control of an orchestra whose sound has improved considerably since he became
its music director in 2009 – but they also show him undertaking a series that
includes some great music whose subtleties seem to elude him.
A lack of subtlety is also
an issue in the very well-played but somewhat superficial recording of
Bruckner’s Symphony No. 3 by Orchestre Métropolitain
under Yannick Nézet-Séguin. The original version of this
symphony, from 1873, has long been an extreme rarity in concert halls and on
recordings, but it is beginning to regain favor for its expansiveness, its
extremely monumental structure, its incorporation of a great deal of Wagner’s music
(which has led to it being labeled Bruckner’s “Wagner symphony”), and its first
establishment in Bruckner’s works of what listeners clearly recognize as the
“Bruckner sound.” The 1873 version sprawls in ways that later versions (notably
those of 1877 and 1889) do not – and Bruckner was well aware of this, calling
for very slow tempos and worrying (with reason, as it turned out) that
conductors would rush the music (much as Mahler later worried that the third
movement of his Symphony No. 5 would be rushed – as indeed it too often is). On
this ATMA Classique recording, Nézet-Séguin falls into the trap of wanting
to move the admittedly somewhat overblown 1873 version along, to get it where
it is going more quickly than it really needs to get there. This creates a
conflict between the content of the music and its pacing: Bruckner may have
been right to reduce the proportions and dimensions of this symphony in later
versions (a long-held argument in some quarters), but making a commitment to
play the 1873 version ought to mean performing it on its own craggy and
not-always-perfectly-proportioned terms. Later versions of the symphony last
under an hour; the 1873 version lasts well over one – sometimes a great deal
over. The recent recording by the Altomonte Orchester St. Florian under Rémy Ballot represents an extreme,
taking a full hour and a half as Ballot strives to use the tempos that Bruckner
apparently wanted. Nézet-Séguin’s reading goes somewhat to the
other extreme, lasting about 67 minutes. It never feels really rushed and is
always well played, but there is something surface-level about it, a sense that
the conductor is reluctant fully to engage with the expansiveness of the work
and let it bloom to its full proportions. The 1873 version is so Wagner-permeated
and so large-scale that it can be awkward both to conduct and to hear, but a
sense of streamlining is not what it needs. Nézet-Séguin makes
less of it than can be made, for all that he directs with firmness and a
certain amount of passion. He might be more comfortable with a later version of
the symphony than with this one, whose imperfections need to be fully embraced,
not glossed over, for maximum effect.
Alessio Bax certainly
embraces the grandeur and difficulty of Beethoven’s “Hammerklavier” sonata on a
new CD from Signum Classics. This is a sonata with the heft of a symphony (and,
at 45 minutes, a typical symphony’s length). Conquering the sonata’s enormous
technical challenges is not enough to make a performance special: truly understanding
the music is required, and having enough discipline and intellectual fortitude
to keep the music flowing while making its extreme physical demands (notably in
the final movement’s fugue) seem entirely incidental. Indeed, they are incidental to the music’s
communicative power, and the prowess Bax shows in this (++++) recording comes
as much from his knowing that as it does from his sheer virtuosity. Perhaps the
greatest challenge of this work is its extremely long Adagio sostenuto, which is about as difficult to sustain as
anything in the piano literature. Bax keeps the underlying rhythmic pulse
strong and clear while allowing the emotional impact of the music’s progress
freer rein, the result being a soul-stirring delving into some of the greatest emotional
depths that Beethoven ever plumbed. Bax’s handling of the “Moonlight” sonata is
less exceptional but still very fine indeed: here he plays with a limpid
quality whose intimacy brings forth the many beauties of this music, which is
so much simpler than that of the “Hammerklavier” but no less emotive. Bax
rounds out the disc with his own transcriptions of two pieces from The Ruins of Athens: the well-known Turkish March and much-less-known Chorus of the Whirling Dervishes. The
transcriptions are knowing and effective, and Bax’s playing of these encores is
as involving and attractive as is his handling of the sonatas.
Fine solo playing is also a
hallmark of an Azica recording of the complete solo-guitar music of Ernst Bacon
(1898-1990), a little-known American composer whose complete solo-guitar works
can be performed in less than an hour. Bacon primarily composed songs – more
than 250 of them – and there is a songfulness to most of his solo-guitar music,
too, although calling these works “songs without words” would be stretching
things. Bacon was one of the composers most interested in creating what they
deemed an American sound in music; he was also strongly influenced by
Transcendentalism. His songs frequently set words by Walt Whitman and Emily
Dickinson, and his solo-guitar pieces seem to speak of similar concerns in
their poetic elements, their forthright emotionalism and their occasional
outright twanginess. The music is interesting and pleasant, solid enough to
give the CD a (+++) rating although not so involving or profound as to turn the
disc into a must-have for lovers of 20th-century Americana. Bradley
Colten’s excellent performances are a major reason to own the CD: Colten
rediscovered most of this music, carefully edited and reassembled it, and even
gave titles to pieces that lacked them. Guitarists will surely celebrate this
disc for widening their repertoire – the works lie well on the instrument and
offer plenty of opportunities for virtuosity, although they are something more
than mere display pieces. Fans of classical guitar will also welcome a full CD
of previously unknown works for the solo instrument. The disc as a whole will
have rather limited appeal beyond the core group of guitarists and guitar fans,
but members of that group will rejoice in it and in the fine playing that
Colten brings to this well-constructed, energetic and pleasantly rhythmic
repertoire.
No comments:
Post a Comment