A blockbusting six
disc set of Svetlanov’s Rimsky recordings
is bound to be of interest to collectors
even when, as here, it’s a compilation
of well known performances garnered
over a two decade span and not a revealing
tranche of rare performances. Svetlanov
was the man for the totality of this
music – for the processional and the
sumptuous, for the glittering and the
heady, the musical picture and the sombre
portrait, the folk-laced dance and the
ballroom swirl. If you want a Man for
all Rimsky Seasons then you simply call
for Svetlanov.
He was certainly the
man for the First Symphony in
the 1884 version, the second. Once past
the Schumannesque introduction we find
revealed a strong, powerful and sinewy
commitment, pensive in the slow movement
and with brio to match in the finale
– the conductor generates a delightful
lilt and then unleashes a characteristically
virile dash to the tape. Antar is
the other symphonic statement on the
first disc in the 1875 version. This
is a wonderfully atmospheric performance,
imbued with fine tangy winds, a dramatic
percussion section (in the Allegro
risoluto in particular) and in the
finale a gauzy, hazy, introduction that
keeps the sense of mystery running high.
Even Svetlanov can’t
quite convince one that the Third
Symphony is without its longeurs.
The first movement is badly over extended
but there is such delightful writing
in the Scherzo and in the rising and
cresting of the slow movement that one
easily submits to the blandishments
of conductor and composer. Not one to
spurn a decisive climax he certainly
wrings all he can from the torrent that
ends the symphony. The rest of the disc
is taken up with overtures and intermezzi
– all characterised with care, with
a fine ear for balance and with verve.
The third CD conjoins
a famous pair of performances. There
are quite a few surviving performances
of Scheherazade but this
is the esteemed 1969 recording. He always
seems to have taken the opening broadly
so the much later live LSO/BBC Legends
performance was very much part of the
continuum of his Scheherazade
conducting and especially when it came
to tempo relationships. Back on home
ground we find him measured and watchful
but when those climaxes come they are
hammered home – even bludgeoned. The
characteristically braying trumpets
add their own beleaguered vehemence
to the proceedings. He’s emphatic in
the second movement, insistent on some
stolid-sounding paragraphs but ones
that soon open out. The trombone principal
had a big, fat tone reminiscent of current
jazz trombone player Gary Valente in
its moose-toned sleaze. Neither he nor
the trumpet principal made any attempt
at tone blending in their sections and
the results are, strictly speaking,
in that respect chaotic. But that’s
outweighed, indeed weirdly enhanced,
by the charismatic passion and opulent
theatricality of the playing, the rubato
– always subtle, never functional –
and the robust masculinity of approach.
The solo violin adheres to the expressive
theatricality of the performance – quite
florid in places as well. No messing
around either in the full-blooded Capriccio
Espagnol – and nothing apologetic
about it either.
The fourth disc is
dominated by suites. One simply sits
back and admires the rhythmic brio of
the Cracovienne from Pan
Voyevoda or the veiled warmth
of the Nocturne, with its little
reminisce of Vltava at the end.
The following Mazurka is wittily
suggestive. The suite from the Snow
Maiden is short but terrific.
The bird-calls, the lithe exciting phrasing
and string weight, the colossal personality
… all this makes for twelve minutes
of intoxicating fun. The virtuosic persuasiveness
of the State Academic Symphony Orchestra
– sometimes overlooked – stands revealed
in the excerpts from The Golden
Cockerel; listen to the adrenalin
saturated accelerando in Tsar Dodon
on the March for starters.
There are more suites
and processions in the penultimate disc,
the brassy fanfares of which are a tonic
in the excerpts from The Tale
of Tsar Sultan. The Introduction
to Act II had me seriously wondering
about Svetlanov as a conductor of that
famous Russophile Janáček.
He certainly performed the composer’s
works but does anything survive on disc?
It would be fascinating to hear. Every
solo fiddler’s favourite, the Act I
introduction to The Golden Cockerel,
is played en masse with suitable feeling
There’s a wealth of melodic interest
to be mined in Kitezh –
and it duly is. Frisky strings add their
allure to the Introduction to May
Night abetted by luscious dance
rhythms and prominent winds.
The final disc offers
simply a reprise of the many delights
and pleasures of the preceding five.
The Russian Overture on Three
Russian Themes is exciting but
subtly paced whilst the Easter
Festival Overture exudes nobility
and gravity at every step. A fruity
mezzo – rather torrid in the accepted
Russian way – sings From Homer
with equally fervent colleagues.
That heroically bronzed tribute to M.
Belayev, On the Tomb,
emerges with unstoppable grandeur. But
Svetlanov is careful not to overplay
the easy lyricism of the Sinfonietta
on Russian Themes – which emerges
all the stronger for it.
The fine notes compress
a lot of detail into a relatively short
space. Recording detail is woolly and
inaccurate. And I’m not saying that
you’ll never need another Rimsky disc
as long as your organs keep working
– there are obvious examples where you
can augment – but I can say that this
is now the essential Rimsky box; comprehensive,
brilliant, colourful, intense, incisive,
effervescent, grave and celebratory.
Jonathan Woolf
see also review
by Dan Morgan
The State Academic Symphony Orchestra/Evgeny
Svetlanov 
