Alternative reviews by John
Quinn and Rob Barnett
Recording of the Month - February
That Vasily Petrenko has had a major impact on collective psyche
of the Classical Music world is not open to doubt. Every disc
that he has released to date has been greeted with at least
praise and in most cases adulation. Given that my own collection
is rather saturated with Manfred Symphonies and Shostakovich
symphony cycles for purely economic reasons I’ve managed to
miss hearing any of his recordings until now.
Anyone coming new to this repertoire via this disc can rest
assured that they will be buying well recorded, superbly played,
convincingly argued versions of all three works. Would any of
these go straight to the top of my preferred playlist? – I would
have to say no. As it happens, I took part in the blind reviewing
test on this website recently comparing ten versions of Isle
of the Dead [review].
One of those versions was the performance recorded here and
whilst the other two reviewers did place that at the top of
their lists I did not. Returning to that performance as part
of this review and listening to it again my reservations hold
true for the entire programme. But back to the work that opens
the disc, Rachmaninov’s last major orchestral score the Symphonic
Dances Op.45. For a man who wrote barely a dozen orchestral
works Rachmaninov’s handling of a large modern symphony orchestra
is never less than superb and the RLPO are fully equal to the
severe technical demands the music makes of them. Quite whether
the ‘progress’ the orchestra has made under Petrenko is down
to any shaman-like quality of the conductor or the economic/employment
reality that means that the lowliest rank and file post in this
– and any other - British orchestra will receive literally hundreds
of applicants from all over Europe is open to question. Orchestras,
as performing groups, are getting better for the simple fact
that more better trained players are applying for fewer posts;
as they say – ‘you do the math’.
I’m in comparative review mode again here – although this time
I know who the rival versions are by! From my point of view
this performance is strongly challenged by Previn/LSO on EMI,
Svetlanov/USSRSO on Regis (crude, live, thrashed to within an
inch of its life and utterly compelling), Ashkenazy/Concertgebouw
on Decca, Jansons/St Petersburg Philharmonic also on EMI and
even the often-overlooked Fedoseyev/USSR Radio SO on deleted
Olympia. On the plus side it is always a pleasure to hear an
individual, carefully thought out interpretation. This is not
an anonymous run-through at a rehearse/record session. Petrenko
is very happy to impose his personality on both the orchestra
and the music – take it or leave it you know who is in charge.
Obviously the greatest interpretations are those where the combined
sum of the composition, interpreter, and performers seems greater
than the sum of the individual parts. Clearly – this disc having
received rave reviews elsewhere – many think it does just that.
I do not. I find that Petrenko falls into some interpretative
mannerisms which he does not quite bring off. In essence – in
the tradition of many of his conductor countrymen – he goes
for extremes of dynamic and tempo.
This is an exciting and dramatic approach but one that relies
on these extremes still having a degree of inter-relation. My
main problem is the way in which the slower passages lapse into
languor and a kind of torpidity. The Symphonic Dances
do have extended reflective passages but as Anthony Bateman’s
interesting liner-note points out the work’s origin was as a
ballet for Fokine. His death thwarted that project but these
are, in some way, dance originated even if at several
removes. Previn, in the second dance in particular, at a very
similar overall movement timing, manages to keep the lilt of
the waltz gently pulsing. In turn this allows the decorative
woodwind filigree passage work to twist and adorn the string
lines. At Petrenko’s slower speed the waltz is all but lost
and the wind lines – perfectly executed though they are – are
unable to register as the snow flurries they surely are. The
first dance, after a typically urgent and incisive opening becomes
positively becalmed [3:00 – track 1] and the famous saxophone
solo – beautifully played – seems to my ear soporific. As this
passage develops and the tutti strings enter I don’t feel the
emotional temperature rising. Also, this is one of the passages
where I have an issue with the actual recording. Modern recordings
do make a virtue of offering extraordinary internal detail in
complex scores. The engineering here is a model of that approach
and I am sure many listeners will revel in elements of these
scores that they can hear (although oddly the contrabassoon
stays well back in the mix). Personally – and I do understand
this is a personal view – I prefer a balance that reflects the
sound as it would arrive at a centre stalls seat. Composers
double instruments very carefully to produce a resultant sound
– they do not want a listener to hear that it is a horn
AND cellos AND second bassoon for example. So here, when then
strings take up the saxophone melody you hear the violins and
the cellos not the combined string section – Previn is
particularly successful here in both engineering and performance
terms and actually I rather like the coolly sinuous Fedoseyev
as well – this section being a logical extension from the flowing
(rather watery) saxophone that preceded it.
Another prime example for me where sections simply do not logically
relate is at the very end of the work. Petrenko works up a thrilling
head of steam for the closing pages [track 3 – 11:00 onwards]
pursued into the maw of hell by as many nightmarish huntsmen
as one could imagine. In any performance the moment when the
massed (hunting?!) horns hurl the Dies Irae theme that’s
has been lurking in Rachmaninov’s consciousness for the previous
fifty years or so is magnificent [track 3 – 12:14] – and here
it is as good as any and better than most. It IS viscerally
exciting but at complete odds with the central panel of this
dance where Petrenko pulls the tempo back to the point where
the music stalls. One person’s sensuous dalliance is another’s
indulgent wallowing – you take your pick! The analytical recording
prevents the brass choir sounding as one – the microphones picking
out (very fine) individual lines before the acoustic has had
a chance to blend them. Quite often Rachmaninov does use the
brass as a massed choir – echoes of the Russian Orthodox church
in the great chorales they play - and I definitely prefer a
blended sound there.
Going onto Isle of the Dead I would refer readers to
my comments as part of the blind review. In essence I found
some sections thrilling but again the slower passages lose momentum.
There is another example of odd tempo relations; the central
portion of the tone poem refers to the soul’s yearning for times
past. Rachmaninov very specifically instructed that this passage
should be significantly faster and more nervy than that which
preceded it. As it happens, my favourite version of the 10 from
Svetlanov turns that notion completely upside down and starts
that section in an ecstatically luxuriant manner. BUT, the reason
that works is because Svetlanov’s eye is on the longer game.
From that point on there is an extraordinary slow long turning
of the emotional screw through to the piece’s collapse with
three brusque gestures of musical dismissal. Petrenko does the
reverse; the initial section is ideally nervy and fluid in tempo
and emotion – exactly what the composer had in mind I’m sure
[track 4 11:21] This sections builds to two great climaxes,
the second supplanting even the power of the first [13:33].
Yes the score IS marked ‘meno mosso’ after this first climax
which literally means ‘less movement’. Petrenko chooses to interpret
this as a lot less movement which means the section lumbers
and by the time the tempo does pick back up for the second climax
[15:37] there has had to be such a gear change in tempo that
the whole feels less inevitable than it should. That being said
Petrenko gets the three dismissal gestures absolutely right
– and right on the tempo that he has then reached. All of this
is down to taste and I must reiterate how refreshing it is to
hear a performance that is so clearly thought out – like it
or not you are in no doubt that this IS Petrenko’s conception
of the work and it is not a bland vision at that!
The disc is completed with the early tone poem/fantasy The
Rock. As an interesting insight into the talent of Rachmaninov
at the age of just 20 it is valuable – Tchaikovsky was quick
to recognise the ability this and other contemporaneous works
signposted. Also, as a filler it adds to the economic value
of the disc. I have to be honest and say that of all Rachmaninov’s
orchestral works this is the one I am least under the spell
of. But were a performance to sway me it would be this. All
of the Petrenko virtues of impulsive musical freedom and dramatic
extreme seem here to serve the narrative of the Chekhov short
story particularly well. Again the orchestral playing is both
powerful and deft – this is going to be by definition an unknown
work to most players and the clarity they bring to it is a tribute
to their combined technical resource. The main two works should
be in the collection of everyone who cares about great music.
One final thought; in the programming of the disc surely it
would have made more sense in every respect to place the music
chronologically. Instead we have it in reverse. I can only assume
this is to ensure the disc’s ‘title’ work comes first. How much
more satisfying it would have been to hear the composer’s progression
from promise to masterpiece – easily achieved with a little
programming of the CD player of course so not exactly a disaster
– just odd! Even the liner-notes give the music in composition
order.
So, a fine disc of wonderful music well performed by the excellent
RLPO – who were a great orchestra pre-Petrenko in case anyone
had forgotten that. Not the final word on either of the two
main works but a valid and passionate vision.
Nick Barnard
Something by way of an extended PS!
Ultimately – and this is not the fault of the conductor or orchestra
– I am rebelling against the notion that suddenly one performer/performance
suddenly supplants all others; ‘the king is dead long live the
king’. No great work of performance art can ever be defined
by a single performance – and every performer will tell you
that. Unfortunately the promoters and sellers of performance
art will try and persuade you that all you need is this (their!)
one performance. Likewise, there is this strange need for there
to be a sense that the ‘now’ is better than the ‘then’. The
sub-text on most websites for orchestras is how wonderful everything
is now – Edward Gardner is extraordinary at ENO, Stéphane
Denève revelatory at RSNO etc etc – and I’m sure they both are
- but by implication this diminishes or even dismisses what
came before – tough luck on Paul Daniels and Mark Elder at ENO
and the likes of Neeme Järvi and of course Alexander Gibson
at the SNO (as was). It’s the “new and improved” school of advertising
which always strikes me as meaning the previous version of that
breakfast cereal or washing powder was clearly rubbish! Again,
I stress that I guarantee it is not the performers themselves
who promote this notion. What struck me most forcefully doing
the comparative reviews mentioned above was how many
fine performances of this single work (by chance the ten versions
did not include three of my personal favourites at all) there
were and the more there appeared the less relevant somehow narrowing
that down to a single version became. A single version will
be a compromise – lucky the listener indeed who finds themselves
totally convinced by one performance to the exclusion of all
others, a reviewer’s choice will be the one that provides them
with their own best ‘fit’ technically and emotionally.
Isn’t the glory of classical music that a great work is an ever-evolving
landscape that can change with the seasons of one’s life? I
do mourn the fact that orchestras sound increasingly and uniformly
lean, mean and muscular yet strangely anonymous. Technical perfection
is a given from Iceland to Malaysia and Sao Paulo. Perhaps a
more interesting blind listening would be to focus on the performers
not the repertoire! My guess would be that it would be all but
impossible to ‘place’ an orchestra with about four exceptions
worldwide. The only countries which still have idiomatic orchestras
are those where the economic limitations have meant that players
from around the world do not seek out posts there. On a recent
visit to Prague I heard the Czech Philharmonic in the Dvorak
Hall sounding quite magnificent – and Czech! When I looked at
the orchestral list it was clear these were players born and
bred in the country. Clearly this is a Pandora’s box that will
never be closed and in no way am I the slightest bit xenophobic.
All I know is that I miss the buzz-saw brass in Shostakovich
and Tchaikovsky, the mellow horns and woody clarinets in Dvorak
and ‘Kingsway-Hall-string-glow’ in Elgar!
Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra/Vasily Petrenko 
