Maurice RAVEL (1875-1937)
Ma mère l’Oye - Suite (1911) [19:39]
Claude DEBUSSY (1862-1918)
Ibéria (1908) [24:09]
La Mer (1905) [24:07]
Boston Symphony Orchestra/Charles Munch
rec. Sanders Theatre, Harvard University, 4 February 1958 (Ravel), 28 October
1958 (La Mer), 31 October 1961 (Ibéria)
ICA CLASSICS DVD ICAD 5014 [68:01]
Strasbourg-born Charles Munch was Music Director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra
from 1949 to 1962. He returned permanently to France in 1963, and in 1967
became the first conductor of the newly-formed Orchestre de Paris. He died
suddenly the following year.
In an interesting booklet essay, Richard Dyer, late of the Boston Globe, recounts
how Munch’s “sturdy build, shock of white hair and mischievous
smile” made him a favourite with Boston’s “mink-clad musical
matrons”. More seriously, and as these three performances attest, his
period in Boston was a highly successful one. His particular authority in
and affinity with twentieth-century French music are very much in evidence
here. Dyer also refers to the conductor’s “physicality, rhythmic
force, and baton technique … it is exciting to watch him move from a
geometrical beat pattern into wide circling arcs of controlled excitement.
Even when the stick is not doing very much, Munch is emanating …”
Now all this is true, but at the same time, viewers hoping to see something
of that “mischievous smile” will be disappointed, as the glimpses
we have reveal him to be as unsmiling as the orchestra, and that is saying
something. Using a score only in the Ravel, his conducting style is curiously
stiff, with two-handed, mirror-image gestures that convey little in the way
of phrasing but are ultra-clear in respect of the beat, which he frequently
and meticulously subdivides. The players never seem to be looking, but they
follow him slavishly and ensemble is impeccable. He barely acknowledges the
audience on arrival, nor at the end of the performance. After the final chord
of the Ravel - which is held for a long, long time - he half turns to them
and then apparently changes his mind and brings the double bassoon player
forward instead. There is a moment of humour just before Ibéria,
when Munch is obliged to wait, once arrived on the podium, as sirens from
the fire station on the other side of the street die away. The booklet has
this taking place before the Ravel, an unimportant and easy enough error.
The performances were filmed for television, in black and white, and though
the booklet carries copious warnings about the sonic and visual limitations
of the original material, it’s all perfectly viewable, though the film
of La Mer had apparently deteriorated more than the others, the picture
quality poorer and the sound less stable, with particularly acid trumpets.
Few cameras were used, and the viewer is amused to find the operator “hunting”
the woodwind soloists, and not always finding them. At one point in the opening
movement of the Ravel the picture settles on the first flute - Doriot Anthony
Dwyer, one of only two women in the orchestra - and only slipping off to her
oboist neighbour when he starts to play.
What of the performances? On this evidence, Munch was more excitable in concert
than in the studio, and not always to the music’s advantage. The reading
of Mother Goose is rather more interventionist in style than we expect
from Ravel performances nowadays, with a fair bit of variety of tempo and
exploration of expressive byways. There is a marked slowing down in the middle
section of “Laideronette”, but for the most part her bath is rapid
and lacking in charm. Indeed, in this of all works, charm is short supply.
One is surprised to see the vehemence of Munch’s gestures at climactic
points, even in the Fairy Garden, and the inevitably limited dynamic
range contributes too, everything seeming more or less forte. This
does not distract from the superbly controlled crescendo at the end of the
work.
Audiences nowadays seem to contain a fair number of people who wish to show
how well they know the piece by being the first to applaud, frequently with
a loud and obtuse “bravo!” Such individuals would be forgiven
for thinking that the Boston audience weren’t sure that the good old
thwack Munch encourages from his players at the end of Ibéria
was really the last note of the piece. The performance as a whole is superb,
colourful, rhythmically alive and seductive by turns: it certainly would have
engendered a few “bravos” in London. Richard Dyer tells us that
Debussy was particularly proud of the transition between the second and third
movements, and that passage is very sensitively managed here. La Mer
is very atmospheric too, and the orchestral discipline is remarkable. The
storm that Munch whips up in the second movement is certainly very exciting,
but it’s rather too much for me, I’m afraid. Parts of the final
movement too, are about as fast and hard-driven as I have ever heard them,
undoubtedly effective in a concert but less so for repeated listening.
The sound quality ensures that this DVD can never be a substitute for an audio
CD. Admirers of the conductor will want it, as will those interested in American
orchestral playing of the period.
William Hedley
Highly disciplined, rather hard-driven concert performances from a master
conductor in his prime.