This well-known and
well-loved collection of Chabrier favourites
makes a welcome return to the catalogue
in remastered SACD form. As is to be
expected from this source, the sound
is quite spectacular for the 1950s;
comparable to the wonders our own John
Culshaw and Walter Legge were achieving.
Tape hiss appears quite prominent at
first, until one realises that the recordings
are cut at a very high level, so when
the music starts it emerges from the
speakers with a quite phenomenal degree
of immediacy. Brass rings out thrillingly,
bass drums shake the floorboards and
the whole aural ‘picture’ is one of
full-blooded realism and impact.
As for the performances,
I know of no other Chabrier collection
that is carried off with more panache
and life-affirming spontaneity. Although
comparisons are often odious, I did
have to hand a very serviceable disc
from Armin Jordan and the French National
Orchestra on Erato which has many of
the same items and has served me well.
Playing them side by side was rather
cruel, for in just about every case
Paray’s rhythmic grip and freewheeling
exuberance made the French set seem
mundane, workaday and even plain boring,
even in this music. It’s not just about
tempos (though in every case Paray has
more urgency), rather about getting
out of your orchestra playing of character,
charisma and the right degree of wit
and gusto. Thus the most famous item,
the ubiquitous España,
gets what must be the most sparkling
and good-humoured performance ever committed
to disc, Beecham notwithstanding. The
lovely Suite pastorale is beautifully
shaped, its disarming simplicity played
straight and for the best, although
the swift, almost aggressive, pace of
the ‘Sous bois’ third movement may pull
some listeners up short. The gloriously
Wagnerian overture to ‘Gwendoline’
gets playing of great swagger and theatricality,
and a truly uproarious performance of
Bourée fantasque finishes
the Chabrier items in fitting fashion.
The Roussel Suite
in F is more than just a filler,
it’s a real find. Anyone who responds
to this composer’s particularly vital,
bustling brand of neo-classicism (such
as the Third and Fourth Symphonies)
will love this. A Koussevitzky commission,
it dates from 1926 and is in perfectly
balanced three-movement form. It opens
with a driving, propulsive Prelude (marvel
at the unanimity of the Detroit strings),
which gives way to a lovely Sarabande,
where the chromatic harmonies and angular
melodic lines have a Prokofiev-like
intensity. The closing Gigue reverts
back to the toccata-style drive of the
opening, and makes for a memorable 13
minutes, especially in a performance
of such brilliance and virtuosity.
Good notes and presentation
complete what is an altogether outstanding
disc.
Tony Haywood
see also review
by Rob Barnett