As winter draws on I’m tempted to play Nielsen’s
delightful; Springtime in Fünen. A more joyful,
wide-eyed piece it is hard to imagine, and so very different
from his worldly-wise Fourth and Fifth symphonies. These Danish
recordings - originally released on Dacapo - are very welcome,
especially at this bargain price. I much enjoyed their coupling
of the First and Sixth - see review
- so I had high hopes for their Fourth and Fifth.
That said, the competition is fierce, not least from the likes
of Ole Schmidt and the LSO - all six symphonies on Regis 3002
- and Herbert Blomstedt’s Danish Radio set on EMI (see
Rob Barnett’s review).
The craggy grandeur of Schmidt’s readings is without equal
- he ‘terraces’ those great climaxes in a way that
no-one else quite manages - but I’m impressed by Jukka-Pekka
Saraste’s Finnish Radio performances as well (Finlandia
3984-21439-2). There are other fine versions, some of which
Leslie Wright alluded to in his recent review
of Schønwandt’s Fourth and Fifth.
Nielsen’s Fourth Symphony, intended to express ‘the
elemental will to live’, opens with wild outbursts underpinned
by muscular timps and restless strings. Contrast that with the
gentle, life-affirming melodies that follow - poignantly played
by the Danish band - and the dialectic of this symphony is revealed.
It’s easy to be riveted by Saraste’s more immediate,
visceral view of this music, which is quite different from Schønwandt’s
loftier, far-sighted approach. As a recording the Naxos disc
sounds warm and spacious, with plenty of growl to the brass
and bite to the strings. Moreover, the all-important timps are
crisp and clear, especially in the quiet bridging passage that
links the first two movements.
There’s plenty of detail and point in the chamber-like
Poco allegretto, the scampering string pizzicati and
solo cello tune delightfully expressive. What a strange interlude
this is - a moment of quiet reflection before the imperious
timps’ return. Schønwandt is much more engaging
here than Saraste who, as good as he is, doesn’t find
nearly as much character and warmth in the notes. And at the
start of the Poco adagio the latter’s timpanists
are nowhere near as commanding as they can be, although they
do make amends in the Con anima’s epic ‘duel
of the drums’.
Saraste is the impulsive one here, relishing the big moments;
but it’s Schønwandt’s patient, more measured
reading that best conveys the music’s inner tensions,
its overall structure laid bare for all to see. It’s a
simple choice, really; either one tends towards the more volatile
Finnish performance - the build-up to the final peroration is
especially thrilling - or one opts for Schønwandt’s
more forensic approach. Alternatively one could be pusillanimous
and plump for both - as I do - since both are very persuasive
indeed. That said, neither matches the sheer authority and power
of the Schmidt performance, which sound remarkable for their
age.
Nielsen’s next symphony - in the tradition of great Fifths
- is probably his finest. It’s also one of the oddest,
cast in two movements divided into six parts. Schønwandt
certainly captures the sinister, somewhat lopsided, character
of the Allegro giusto, epitomised by those weird bassoon
calls. The invasive side-drums and the brutish march that follows
add a sudden twist of Shostakovich to the proceedings. This
is gritty stuff, the Danes playing with startling precision
throughout. In the ensuing Adagio the horns may be a
little less than unanimous but, as ever, Schønwandt never
allows the pace to flag or pulse to flutter, even when the music
subsides, only to be reinvigorated later on. The playing is
wonderfully mellow here, which only highlights the raucous side-drums
even more. And if you think Schønwandt is too reticent
in the Fourth he proves otherwise in the gaunt climaxes of the
Fifth.
After that enigmatic conclusion to the Adagio, a robust,
big-boned second movement cast in four parts - Allegro-Presto-Andante
poco tranquillo-Allegro (Tempo 1) - it’s a mélange
of competing moods, the delicate fabric of the Presto
torn apart by the savage timps. Schønwandt and his band
play with unusual ferocity here - just listen to the screeching
brass - before modulating to that restorative Andante.
The poise and purity of this music - in marked contrast to what
has gone before - is superbly realised, although I did long
for a more full-bodied string sound. No quibbles about the trenchant
finale, though, which the Danes bring off with commendable energy
and thrust, Schønwandt goading them on to a thrilling
finish.
Yet another barnstormer from Naxos and a disc that makes me
even more impatient to hear Schønwandt’s readings
of Nielsen’s Second and Third. My loyalty to Saraste isn’t
entirely eroded, though, as the latter has his moments in the
Fourth and brings real fire to the Fifth. Also, there is an
edge to the Finnish performances - helped by a more astringent
recording - that is strangely compelling. That said, the warmer,
weightier Naxos sound will probably appeal to more listeners.
But it’s Schønwandt’s unwavering grip on
these scores that sets him apart. Indeed, for that reason alone
these performances deserve their place alongside Schmidt’s
pioneering versions.
Dan Morgan
see also review by Leslie
Wright
Masterwork Index: Nielsen symphonies
Danish
National Symphony Orchestra/Michael Schønwandt 
