Strauss’s final tone-poem,
the Alpine Symphony of 1915, is a huge
work in terms of its structural scale
and the forces required. It’s also a
huge challenge for orchestra and conductor.
Strauss makes almost impossible demands
on his players, the horn section in
particular, for whom this is one of
the ultimate peaks of the repertoire
– a veritable ‘Matterhorn’, if you like.
Indeed, the work calls for a total of
some twenty horns, twelve of them in
the off-stage band!
The structure of the
work is fascinating, as it reflects
the actual journey up and down the mountain.
The climax is the colossal outburst
at the summit, but the cleverest structural
device is the descent. For this, Strauss
was faced with the danger of anticlimax
attendant on the symphonic necessity
for a recapitulation of earlier themes.
So he contrived a thrilling storm, and,
as the party of climbers hurry home
amidst the thunder, lightning and torrential
rain, the composer is able to review
in rapid succession many of the earlier
descriptive episodes. Extremely crafty,
and highly effective.
The work is spectacular,
no doubt about that – and in that quality
it reflects its subject, for what in
this world is more spectacular than
vast mountain scenery? But the work
contains many subtle effects too; the
arrival on the summit, for example,
is at first quiet and awestruck, with
a hesitant oboe solo (track 13, 0:15),
the full orchestral panoply being saved
for a little later when the great vista
has ‘sunk in’. The little ‘peeps’ on
the oboe in the tense lull before the
storm are marvellously evocative (track
18, 0:30 and later), as are the diminishing
raindrops after the storm (track
19, 3:12), in a retreat deliberately
(I believe) reminiscent of the William
Tell Overture. Incidentally, there
are many other incidental quotations,
or rather allusions, in this
work; they include one to Strauss’s
own Arabella, one to Wagner’s
Siegfried, and even, arguably,
one to Mendelssohn’s Oh for the Wings
of a Dove. No I’m not telling you
– find them yourself!
Nearer the conclusion,
the coda is ushered in by a key-change
of breathtaking and daring beauty (track
21, 6:06), as the violins reach giddy,
pianissimo heights. For those interested
in technicalities, it’s a shift from
A major to the ‘home’ key of Bb minor,
using C#/Bb as the pivot note. Sounds
terrible, but the effect is totally
magical.
So, do Wit and his
Weimar players rise to these musical
challenges? The answer is undoubtedly
yes, for this is a really very fine
account of the work, fit to rank with
the best available. Wit takes relatively
broad tempi, allowing the multi-coloured
orchestration and sumptuous melodies
plenty of space to make their effect.
But he misses none of the energy of
the faster passages, and allows the
music to surge forward where necessary
in the early stages.
The recording is impressive,
particularly in its capturing of the
inner, teeming detail of the score.
However, the downside is that some of
the ‘tuttis’ do not make quite the impact
they should. After the long dark Bb
minor introduction portraying Night,
the sunrise (Track 2) – even more magnificent
for me than the one in Also Sprach
Zarathustra - should be overwhelming
in its brilliance. Wit and his players
don’t quite make it, splendid though
it is. Something of the same reservations
apply to the great outburst on the summit,
and the storm which follows, though
here, the percussion is undoubtedly
impressive - except that the Strauss’s
beloved wind machine can’t really be
heard. Shame! The Philips engineers
for Haitink, for example, capture it
much better, and, in part because of
that, the Storm is even more exciting
there.
But much of the playing,
under Wit’s sympathetic guidance, is
quite wonderful. The brass are a perfectly
balanced ensemble, and the principal
trumpet deserves a mention for his negotiation
of ‘Dangerous Moments’ (track 12) –
perilous stuff indeed, which has embarrassed
more than one distinguished player in
the past. And those horns? Heroes, all
of them, the high, unison passages ringing
out with great confidence and massive
decibels. The one solitary top concert
F, during the Vision passage,
can be heard distinctly, if you know
where to listen (track 13, just after
4:45).
Of course, this piece
has a great deal more to it than virtuoso
horn writing, and the other orchestral
sections, strings, woodwind and percussion,
make superb contributions too. The strings
are a really fine body, with rich, homogeneous
tone, as well as malleable phrasing
when required, and all the woodwind
soloists (particularly first oboe and
first bassoon) acquit themselves with
distinction. And I’ve already mentioned
the percussion’s terrific blood and
thunder (as opposed to ‘thud and blunder’)
in the storm sequence.
A major contender,
then, and you can cram the one hundred
and forty or so players that this work
requires into your hi-fi for just £4.99
– a miracle!
Gwyn Parry-Jones
Staatskapelle Weimar/Antoni Wit 
