The Rite of Spring
was a succès de scandale
in 1913, yet even today some
listeners find this wild-eyed score
too much to bear. Others, more blasé
perhaps, may think it’s less of a challenge,
especially when it gets so many routine
readings. There are around 140 recordings
of The Rite in the catalogue,
some of which are high points in the
history of this work. Stravinsky’s own
performance with the Columbia Symphony
Orchestra (CBS Masterworks 42433) and
Bernstein’s white-hot reading with the
New York Philharmonic – available as
part of Sony’s Original Jacket Collection,
catalogue no.89750 – are among this
elite group. More recent outings include
Yoel Levi’s spectacular Atlanta disc
(Telarc CD 80266) and the much-praised
Gergiev/Kirov recording on Philips 468
035, the latter used for comparison
here.
There are many other
fine interpreters, Abbado and Haitink
included, so Jaap van Zweden and his
Dutch band are in a hotly contested
field. I had misgivings about this disc,
primarily because an earlier Exton release
– the Edo de Waart Zarathustra
(see review)
– was so disappointing. As hybrid SACDs
go that is one of the most bizarre recordings
I’ve heard in a long time.
Not the most auspicious
beginning, but I’m pleased to report
van Zweden’s Adoration of the Earth
starts with a most atmospheric bassoon
solo – not as recessed as that on the
Gergiev disc – which blossoms nicely
as the introduction progresses. The
orchestral detail on both discs is impressive
but the Exton has an astonishing ‘hear
through’ quality that augurs well for
this Rite. Gergiev is swifter
here – 3:23 to van Zweden’s 3:34 – and
he hints at the more febrile music to
come. That said, van Zweden is very
persuasive, the Dutch band sounding
rich and weighty.
The tramping figure
with its strong off-beat accents that
opens The Harbingers of Spring: Dance
of the Young Maidens, not to mention
the percussive collapse at 1:15 and
the mighty drum thwacks at 3:02, are
superbly caught by the Exton engineers.
Perspectives may seem a bit flat and
very occasionally van Zweden’s performance
sounds a little tame next to Gergiev’s
menacing rhythms and more abandoned
bass. The raucous sound Gergiev encourages
also seems more apt here.
The same is true of
the Russian’s Ritual of the Abduction,
which arcs and sputters with enormous
energy. By comparison van Zweden is
more elegant and precise – suave, even
– but in the Spring Rounds he
summons up some stupendous sounds, notably
in that series of percussive outbursts.
A small caveat: van Zweden tends to
relax a little too much in the quieter
moments, while Gergiev is inclined to
press on regardless. Still, no one can
deny the latter’s punch and power, especially
in the near hysteria of Ritual of
the Rival Tribes and the
Procession of the Sage. Again,
van Zweden is more refined, deep and
spacious; indeed, I can imagine this
disc being used as a demonstration disc
in hi-fi showrooms, particularly for
its hefty bass.
We come to the end
of Part I with the mysterious, muted
chords of The Adoration of the Earth
and the dervish-like Dance of the
Earth. In the latter van Zweden
may not match Gergiev for sheer abandon
but he scores well in terms of orchestral
poise and discipline. Whether that’s
what’s needed here is a moot point,
and I imagine many will find the abrasive
nature of Gergiev’s reading more convincing.
And that really sums up these two approaches;
van Zweden may be more considered but
he’s alive to instrumental detail, whereas
Gergiev tends to focus on rhythm and
overall excitement.
Part II begins with
a brooding evocation of pagan night,
well executed in both accounts. I found
myself warming to van Zweden at this
point, as he distils so much of the
inner magic of this score, even if he
sometimes misses its broader brutishness.
This is particularly true of Mystic
Circles of the Young Maidens, even
if this attention to detail means the
musical pulse becomes a little weak.
Nothing at all hesitant or indistinct
about those huge beats that take us
into the Glorification of the Chosen
One, where the Exton team conjure
up a deep, vivid sound picture. The
ever-changing metres are well handled
by van Zweden and his band, although
he must yield to Gergiev in terms of
atavistic appeal.
Honours are more evenly
divided in Evocation of the Ancestors
and Rituals of the Ancestors,
although Gergiev’s drums are noticeably
earthier. Again this is a point where
van Zweden’s more manicured approach
doesn’t work so well, although he does
compensate by highlighting details that
Gergiev misses with his broad-brush
approach. But it’s the rhythmically
complex Ritual Dance of the Chosen
One that springs a surprise or two;
van Zweden is measured and coherent
but still exciting, whereas Gergiev
is just plain ponderous. What on earth
persuaded him to slow things down? Not
so much tempo di hoochie-coochie
as tempo di rumty-tumty. The
Russian’s ending strikes me as ill-judged,
too.
I suppose one could
characterise these two recordings as
Dionysiac (Gergiev) and Apollonian (van
Zweden), so it’s appropriate the latter’s
filler is Stravinsky’s neo-classical
ballet Apollon Musagète.
Be warned, though, the break between
the two works is much too short, so
you’ll need to be quick with your remote.
A commission by that
doyenne of the arts, Elizabeth Sprague
Coolidge, this work centres on Apollo,
who is visited by Terpsichore (the muse
of dance), Calliope (the muse of poetry)
and Polyhymnia (the muse of song). It’s
scored for 34 strings and cast in two
tableaux, the first dealing with
the birth of Apollo, the second offering
a series of variations and dances for
these four characters.
I find neo-classical
Stravinsky rather dry but in Apollon
Musagète the composer strikes
a perfect balance between form and content.
The music is remarkably lithe and carefully
proportioned, the Dutch strings playing
with a good combination of weight and
precision (take the start of the Coda,
for instance). The recorded balance
is rather close but not unpleasantly
so, and van Zweden directs a generally
refined and nicely nuanced performance.
He points rhythms rather well – the
Coda again – and gives the music plenty
of momentum where necessary. But it’s
the Apotheosis that has some of the
loveliest, most eloquent, passages.
The upper strings are rich and creamy,
the lower ones clear and nimble, the
mood one of general inwardness and grace.
A very rewarding performance of what
must be one of Stravinsky’s most winning
scores.
I was cautious at first
but repeated hearings have persuaded
me this is a very fine Rite indeed.
If you want spectacle Levi’s your man,
and if you want adrenaline go for Gergiev,
even if he does come unstuck in the
final dance. Couplings may be an issue
as well; Gergiev offers a passable performance
of Scriabin’s Poem of Ecstasy
– Muti’s EMI account is far more sensuous
– while van Zweden’s filler is a delight
from start to finish.
One of my discs of
the year.
Dan Morgan