(++++) ROMANTICISM RETHOUGHT

Verdi: La Forza del Destino—Overture; Solo from Act III; Donato Lovreglio: Fantasia da Concerto from La Traviata; Luigi Bassi: Fantasia da Concerto from Rigoletto; Weber: Der Freischütz—Overture; Concertino for Clarinet and Orchestra. Nicolai Pfeffer, clarinet; Orchestra della Toscana conducted by Markus Stenz. NovAntiqua Records. $20.

Brahms: Symphonies Nos. 1-4. Danish Chamber Orchestra conducted by Adam Fischer. Naxos. $29.99 (3 CDs).

     Everything is so doggone serious all the time when it comes to classical music that it is delightful when a CD release can be heard simply because it is so much fun. That does not mean the music itself was written to be amusing – no Saint-Saëns Carnival of the Animals or Mozart Musical Joke is involved. It simply means that Nicolai Pfeffer and Markus Stenz make music with serious dedication but at the same time make it a joy to hear. And that represents a different-from-the-usual approach to the Romantic repertoire – although, oddly enough, it gets closer to the view of the Romantics themselves, for whom opera, in particular, was popular entertainment. What Pfeffer, Stenz and the Orchestra della Toscana offer on a wonderfully played NovAntiqua Records disc is a sort-of-Verdi-focused, sort-of-opera-focused set of pieces – familiar, unfamiliar, and created/arranged specifically for the recording, then tossed off with relish. The only real unifying element of the CD is its clarinet focus, which places Pfeffer front-and-center almost throughout – indeed, he puts himself there by making his own clarinet-and-orchestra arrangements of Verdi-based concert fantasias by Donato Lovreglio (1841-1907) and Luigi Bassi (1833-1871). The fantasias hold up exceptionally well in this form (rather than as clarinet-and-piano works), and indeed shed some new light on the Victorian fascination with opera fantasies – an interest that is usually seen through the works of Liszt and Thalberg. Neither Lovreglio nor Bassi expands and develops Verdi’s themes as the best composer/pianists did, and neither of these fantasias comes across as much more than a collection of popular tunes juxtaposed in new ways. But that is just fine: again, the entertainment value of the music is paramount, and the performances are so adept and so much fun to hear that the shallowness of the musical material is pretty much beside the point. Verdi’s own La Forza del Destino overture, with its highly melodramatic approach to one of his most-melodramatic operas, is half the length of Bassi’s fantasia and less than half that of Lovreglio’s, but it packs more intensity into the material than both of them put together – and Stenz conducts it with all the fervor the score calls for. A neat little supplement to the overture is the clarinet solo that appears in the opera just after the prelude to the third act: this is lyrical music packed with the sentimentality of which Verdi was so enamored, and Pfeffer handles it with warmth and just the right level of sweetness to prevent it from being overly cloying. The two works by Weber fit rather uneasily into the concept of this disc – unless one listens with an ear attuned to the similar-but-different handling of the clarinet by the two composers. In particular, the drama of Der Freischütz has less over-the-top intensity than the melodrama of La Forza del Destino, but a greater sense of strength and solidity – not only in the clarinet part but also throughout the scoring. As for Weber’s Concertino for Clarinet and Orchestra, it really has no business in this operatic company, but it just sounds so wonderful and takes such advantage of the clarinet’s expressive and virtuoso capabilities that it needs no excuse for being here. Pfeffer and Stenz appear simply to like the music and to want to present it enjoyably and without the usual gloss of seriousness to which Romantic-era music seems particularly susceptible. On the face of it, this CD is a mishmash of largely unrelated material that just happens to include many parts with the clarinet in the forefront. But when heard as the performers apparently intend, with the emphasis on delight rather than significance, it is, well, delightful.

     A new Brahms cycle by Adam Fischer and the Danish Chamber Orchestra approaches this familiar Romantic-era music in unexpected ways that prove much more uneven. The three-CD Naxos release (which could easily have been a two-CD presentation, given the timings of the performances) uses a smaller-than-customary orchestra – although, it should be noted, one closer in size to what Brahms himself likely heard – and goes out of its way to rethink tempo choices and the overall balance within each movement of each symphony. Brahms can be turgid in the wrong hands, so the decision to treat his music as being on the lighter side aurally is a welcome one. But Fischer’s approach is not always convincing and at times seems to do things differently merely for the sake of being different. Symphony No. 1 fares the least well of the four. The first movement features light and clear lines and tempos on the fast side – but also plenty of pause-and-restart-for-emphasis instances that are not exactly rubato. The second movement is more andante than sostenuto, although the woodwinds create a pleasant pastoral feeling and the solo violin is lovely. The very light third movement leads attacca into a finale that keeps misfiring. The introductory material is very rapid, but the forward motion is stopped in its tracks by the timpani; the horns are impressive but not full-throated; and when the main theme starts, there is certainly clarity and precision, but a lack of emotional heft. The pacing is uneven throughout despite the fine orchestral playing, and the fast and dramatic coda is abruptly halted by a significantly slower chorale. There is nothing stately anywhere here, and the movement has a perfunctory quality that is surely not intentional.

     Symphony No. 2 fares better. The first movement has a pleasantly lilting pace, although it lacks real warmth: here the reduced size of the string section makes the music less effective, and the movement as a whole tends to drift. The second movement flows well, but again is missing emotional impact. The third, however, has just the right light touch: it is unfussy and propulsive, paving the way for a finale that has wonderful instrumental emphases (such as the clear, distinct pizzicati) and a rhythmic flow that is mostly first-rate despite a few instances of unjustifiable pauses. The symphony ends with one of this work’s most exciting codas on CD – raising hopes for the rest of the set (although the Second was actually the last-recorded of these performances).

     In Symphony No. 3, the first movement is rather mannered: the tempo does not hold steady and soon loses momentum, and the exposition repeat sounds quite different from its original presentation (and better: it is more delicate and more adroitly paced). The movement improves as it goes on and is impressive toward the end. The second movement has a nice sense of delicacy at the start and possesses pretty flow; the third is quiet, the rhythm a little flabby; and the fourth starts quickly and enthusiastically, growing into a movement with more drama than elsewhere in the symphony – here as in the Second, the finale is the performance’s high point. The best presentation of all in this set is Symphony No. 4, which opens with elegance, consistent pace and considerable drama. The second movement is intense and unusually dramatic, a bit too rushed in parts but very well-played. The third is quick and distinctly scherzo-ish – it is the only real scherzo in Brahms’ symphonies – although here Fischer devolves a bit too far into stop/start mode near the end. The finale, however, again caps the performance, with particularly good individuation of the variations and a sense throughout of scaling the musical heights. Hearing Brahms played by a comparatively small orchestra is a welcome experience, allowing the composer a fleetness and clarity that can be missing in more-typical performances. Fischer does take advantage of the opportunities of sectional balance and clear articulation presented by using an ensemble of this size, but his mannerisms and sometimes overdone attempts to emphasize elements of the symphonies in ways not called for in the scores result in performances that are less than thoroughly convincing. Nevertheless, they succeed much of the time in shedding a different light on Brahms from the more-familiar one with which conductors generally illuminate him.