American conductor Jonathan Pasternack counts Neeme Järvi and
Jorma Panula amongst his teachers. At the 2002 Cadaqués Orchestra
International Conducting Competition he was awarded second prize,
runner-up to one Vasily Petrenko. The list of ensembles he has
conducted is both long and impressive, but this would appear
to be his first CD.
The coupling is a strange one, and would be, I think, even as
a concert programme. Still, we are not obliged to listen to
the CD in one sitting, so where’s the harm? The recording took
place almost three years ago, but the disc has only just been
released. The box carries the logos of both Sennheiser and Neumann,
along with the announcement that “all digital microphones” provided
by the two companies were used. We can thus expect impressive
sound, and so it is, with a depth of field, richness and analytical
quality to be envied, though you will need to turn the volume
up to achieve the necessary impact. There are helpful essays
on the Bartók by Richard Whitehouse and on the Brahms by Robert
Pascall.
The London Symphony Orchestra is one the world’s greatest ensembles,
so you would expect this performance of The Miraculous Mandarin
to be brilliantly played, and so it is. Ensemble is tight, and
the wind solos in the central tableaux are splendidly done.
One wonders, then, why so much of the performance engenders
so little excitement. The rapid triple-time rhythms of the opening
tableau, though brilliantly executed, do not propel the music
as they should, and the succeeding scenes are sadly lacking
in seductiveness. Things take a turn for the better with the
appearance of the Mandarin himself, splendidly painted by Bartók
and brilliantly executed by the LSO brass here. The playing
becomes more convincing – I’m tempted to think, more convinced
– as the Girl dances for him, and the performance as a whole
catches fire for parts of the final chase. But go back to Antal
Dorati with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra on a 1954 performance
on Mercury to hear what this music sounds like at white heat,
and there have been many performances almost as gripping in
more recent years.
Conducting is a mysterious activity. Who can satisfactorily
explain how a great conductor communicates with the orchestra?
Just as pertinent, when the message doesn’t pass, who can explain
why? The opening bars of the Brahms made so little impression
in this performance that I immediately stopped the disc and
listened to a few other versions. A live performance with the
BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra and Ilan Volkov (BBC Music Magazine)
had far more impact, as did Marin Alsop with the London Philharmonic,
in a thoroughly recommendable performance also on Naxos. And
moving on to Jochum (1953, Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra, DG)
at a considerably slower tempo, and especially Ančerl (1962,
Czech Philharmonic, Supraphon) one hears a sense of direction,
engagement, purpose and passion in the rising violin line which
is all but absent here. This first movement is remarkably varied
in atmosphere and emotion. Exciting, seductive, mysterious,
it’s all in there somewhere, but only rarely is it brought out
successfully by these performers. In the slow movement, the
accompaniment is competent and well supports the beautifully
played oboe solo, but it doesn’t swell, only fitfully becoming
something more than mere accompaniment. Leader Carmine Lauri
is rightly identified as the soloist in this movement, and again,
the playing is wonderful, except that the emotional temperature
seems low. The third movement begins after too short a pause,
and I’m bound to wonder if it has ever sounded more pedestrian,
more uncommitted than this. The astonishing opening to the finale
provoked similar thoughts, and the remainder of the movement,
difficult to fuse into a coherent whole even for the greatest
interpreters, rather falls apart, with the most wonderful moments
passing for very little.
The cruel fact is that the London Symphony Orchestra must have
played Brahms 1 so many times that it takes a huge personality
and a very special occasion to draw out of them their astonishing
best. I’m sorry not to be more welcoming to this disc, but sadly,
this seems not to have been the occasion.
William Hedley
London Symphony Orchestra/Jonathan Pasternack
