RECORDING OF THE MONTH
Olivier MESSIAEN (1908-1992)
Turangalîla-Symphonie (1946-1948)
Steven Osborne (piano); Cynthia Millar (ondes martenot)
Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra/Juanjo Mena
rec. 20-24 June 2011, Grieghallen, Bergen, Norway
HYPERION CDA67816 [77:07]
Juanjo Mena is not only Chief Conductor of the BBC Philharmonic but also Principal
Guest Conductor of the Bergen Philharmonic. He could scarcely have chosen
more of a blockbuster work for what I believe to be his first recording with
the Bergen orchestra and for what is certainly his first appearance on the
Hyperion label.
My colleague Dan Morgan recently gave a
very warm welcome to the download version of this release. I haven’t
heard the Tortelier version on Chandos that he mentioned but I share his admiration
for Previn’s reading. Also highly estimable are the recordings by Rattle
and by Nagano. Nor must one overlook the very fine Ozawa traversal (review).
However, I’m unsure if the Ozawa recording is currently available. There
are several other versions of this huge score in the catalogue - and I’ve
read particularly good things about the recordings by Chailly (Decca) and
Myung-Whun Chung (DG) - but these haven’t come my way.
Turangalîla was commissioned by Serge Koussevitzky for the Boston
Symphony Orchestra in 1945 and it seems that Messiaen was given a pretty free
hand in terms of what he was to write and the forces for which he was to score
the work. As Nigel Simeone writes in his very interesting booklet note, the
work, which wasn’t completed until 1948, began life as a four-movement
work and, like Topsy, just grew. Everything about this vast score is on an
epic scale. Cast - eventually - in ten movements, it plays for nearly eighty
minutes; the orchestral forces are massive, though interestingly neither a
harp nor timpani are required, and the percussion section, which often functions
as a kind of gamelan, is particularly impressive; not only is there a prodigious
concertante piano part but also Messiaen throws in for good measure
a crucial part for the exotic early electronic instrument, the ondes martenot,
which had only been invented in the late 1920s.
By the time the symphony was completed Koussevitzky was too frail to undertake
the première and, though apparently delighted with the finished score,
he entrusted the responsibility of preparing and leading the first performance
to his young and richly talented protégé, Leonard Bernstein.
I had suspected that, after the first performances, Bernstein never returned
to the score and Nigel Simeone confirms that. Indeed, he goes further, quoting
a letter from Aaron Copland to his fellow composer, Irvine Fine, in which
he refers to “the Messiaen Monster” and describes Bernstein’s
reaction to it as “cold, in spite of a brilliant job of conducting”.
In some ways that surprises me since I would have thought that Turangalîla
would have appealed to Bernstein’s sense of the theatrical if nothing
else. Some years ago the Boston Symphony Orchestra issued a lavish CD set
celebrating the centenary of Symphony Hall and this contained a tantalising
snippet of Bernstein rehearsing the sixth movement prior to the première.
What one would give to hear a recording of one of those first performances
under his baton!
I first heardTurangalîla over forty years ago in the Ozawa recording.
I was completely baffled by it but persevered and gradually came to know it
and to surrender to it, almost exclusively through recordings and broadcasts.
Live performances proved elusive, however, though I did get to one, in 1978,
when what was then the BBC Northern Symphony Orchestra gave it, under Gilbert
Amy, with Yvonne Loriod playing the piano. To my surprise and delight Messiaen
himself was present to acknowledge an enthusiastic reception from what I recall
as a fairly sparse audience in Manchester’s Free Trade Hall. I had to
wait over thirty years to experience the symphony again in concert just recently
(review)
and I limbered up for that concert by spending most of that day doing the
bulk of my listening to this disc, including some comparative sampling; the
things one does for MusicWeb International!
Listening several times to Mena’s fine performance has been an enthralling
experience. Inevitably, in such a large and complex score, there are a few
things that one feels don’t work quite as well as in other versions.
However, it seems to me that Mena has a tremendous grip on the score and a
real sense of its epic sweep. That sense of sweep, however, is not at the
expense of attention to detail; Mena clearly has every aspect of this score
at his fingertips. This can be heard especially in the many delicate moments
in the piece - the performance of ‘Jardin du sommeil d’amour’
is sensuous, perfumed and done with great finesse. In the aforementioned rehearsal
sequence Bernstein refers to what he calls the “quiet commotion”
of the birdsong and insect noises - the piano, gamelan percussion and exquisite
woodwind solos - that decorate the gentle love song played by the strings
and ondes throughout this movement. That’s beautifully done here.
Nor are the many loud and extrovert passages underplayed. Mena and the Bergen
heavy brass convey the sinister power of the Theme of Statues; consistently
the climaxes are truly immense and, in Hyperion’s excellent recording,
open up beautifully. There’s tremendous precision and vitality in ‘Joie
du sang des étoiles’, where the headlong frenzy of the joyful
dance is breath-taking - and always controlled. The last movement has all
the celebratory sweep and élan for which one could wish: the
music veers between a glittering toccata and imposing power while the final
apotheosis of the Theme of Love is saturated and ecstatic.
As you may have inferred, the playing of the Bergen Philharmonic is first
class. The score abounds in tricky rhythmic patterns and details but so far
as I can tell the musicians are never caught out; their playing is precise
and acute. Their dynamic range is marvellous so we get the climaxes delivered
with great punch and presence while the quieter sections are properly hushed
and atmospheric.
Mena has the benefit of two magnificent and authoritative soloists. Stephen
Osborne has a strong reputation in Messiaen, not least through his excellent
account of Vingt Regards sur l‘Enfant Jésus (CDA67351).
Here, his pianism is prodigious. In a live performance much of the piano part
can be obscured by the orchestra - the fifth movement is an obvious example
- and, after all, it’s a concertante role. However, the microphones
put the piano into better perspective and we can hear Osborne give a commanding
account of this hugely demanding part. I enjoyed, for example, his superb
cadenza towards the end of ‘Chant d’amour II’ and right
at the close of that movement he plays with hushed refinement - as does everyone
else. His birdsong in ‘Jardin du sommeil d’amour’ is captivating.
Cynthia Miller has taken part in over 100 performances of Turangalîla
- an astonishing statistic - but, surprisingly, she’s never recorded
it until now. She’s masterly in the way she puts her instrument’s
part across. She judges to perfection the sweetness of the tone of the ondes,
never overdoing that aspect so that the sweetness tips over into saccharine.
And some of her swoops up and down the range of the instrument have an unworldly
thrill to them. It seems to me that Hyperion has recorded the ondes a little
closer than on some of the other recordings I’ve heard. I welcome that.
Surely Messiaen wanted this unique timbre to register, though not dominate.
I’m particularly pleased that the music in the instrument’s lower
register comes through well because that is a vital element and at those points
the sound is amazing.
So, viewed in isolation this Mena recording is a strong proposition; but how
does it shape up in the face of the competition? I’ve been able to compare
it with Previn (EMI, Abbey Road Studios, 1977), Rattle (EMI, Warwick Arts
Centre, 1986), Ozawa (RCA, venue unknown, 1967) and Nagano (Teldec, Philharmonie,
Berlin, 2000; I believe this recording comes from live performances). I must
be honest and say that I’ve not listened to all the versions complete
- there are limits! - but I know each of the comparators sufficiently
well to believe that the samplings are representative. I compared movements
1, 5, 6 and 10.
Mena’s performance and recording is sharp and clear. I hadn’t
listened to the Previn performance for some time but I was surprised how much
impact it had. The recording has lots of presence and power; it’s typical
of EMI’s best efforts around that time. I sense that Previn is a touch
warmer in his overall approach compared to Mena. Previn’s fine pianist,
Michel Beroff, is a bit more prominent than is Stephen Osborne for Mena but
we don’t hear as much of the Ondes (Jeanne Loriod) on the EMI recording.
In the Rattle recording there’s more space around the sound compared
to Previn - Warwick Arts Centre is a good-sized venue - and I like that. As
with Previn, the piano (the excellent Peter Donohoe) is well to the fore,
the ondes (Tristan Murail) less so.
My intention had been to compare all the recordings without touching the controls
on my equipment but after the first movement I hoisted the white flag so far
as Ozawa was concerned. His recording is cut - or transferred to CD - at a
higher level than the others and it was necessary to reduce the volume control
by three notches for comfortable listening. Even so, the performance still
packs a considerable punch. Perhaps it’s a bit too forceful at
times - the Theme of Statues is massive and deliberate, for example. Ozawa
has the inestimable benefit of both Loriod sisters for his soloists. Nagano’s
recording is billed as using the revision of the score which Messiaen made
in 1990. I don’t know how extensive the revision was; I suspect it’s
more to do with points of detail as there’s nothing glaringly apparent.
I don’t know if Mena uses this version; he’s the only other one
of our candidates who would have been able so to do. Nagano is very dynamic
at the start and his sound is closest, I think, to Mena’s in terms of
offering a concert hall balance; perhaps Nagano’s sound is a little
more distant?
In the fifth movement Ozawa is the most viscerally thrilling though I think
his gamelan percussion is too closely recorded, even when the CD is played
at a lower volume. However, all five conductors are very impressive here.
So are they all in the languorous sixth movement. Previn is particularly affectionate;
perhaps his, with some outstanding playing from the LSO woodwind, is the most
poetic account. Nagano is appreciably swifter than his peers, getting through
the movement in 10:39; the next quickest is Ozawa (11:54) and all the others
take over 12:00. In fairness to Nagano I don’t think one would be aware
of this relative swiftness if listening to his recording in isolation.
However, I’m sure you would be aware of a fast tempo if you listened
to his account of the finale. This whips by in an astonishing 6:31 - all the
others take seven minutes or more. The Berlin Philharmonic articulates the
music with jaw-dropping virtuosity but I couldn’t escape the feeling
of “because we can”. It’s too frenetic for my taste; impetuosity
and energy taken to extremes. Not long ago the Nagano version was selected
as the library choice for this work on BBC Radio 3’s CD Review programme
but, for all its other excellent features, this one movement would rule it
out for me. Incidentally, the Mena disc wasn’t considered during that
programme as it hadn’t then been released. Returning to the comparisons,
Ozawa is hugely exciting in the finale, relishing Messiaen’s primary
colours. Yvonne Loriod is commandingly emphatic at the piano in this movement.
Previn and Rattle both give fine accounts, in line with expectations raised
by the rest of their respective recordings. Mena isn’t as volatile here
as Ozawa or Nagano but there’s abundant energy and rhythmic drive in
his reading and, as elsewhere, I just love the contribution of Cynthia Miller’s
ondes martenot.
So is Mena “best in show”, picking up the equestrian metaphor
at the start of Dan Morgan’s review? I’m going to pass on that
one, not because I’m copping out but becauseTurangalîla
is such a huge, multi-faceted score that it’s asking a lot for one performance
or interpretation to emerge head and shoulders - or even by a short head -
over the competition. It’s a virtuoso score which has clearly inspired
the performers on all the discs I’ve evaluated to give of their very
best. What I will say, however, is that this newcomer is a very strong contender
for the attention of collectors. The playing is splendid, the soloists marvellous
and I think Juanjo Mena has a tremendous grip on the score and doesn’t
put a foot wrong. Factor in an excellent effort by the Hyperion engineers
and you have a splendid representation on CD of Messiaen’s ambitious,
tumultuous, superb score.
John Quinn
A splendid representation on CD of Messiaen’s ambitious, tumultuous,
superb score.
see also review by Dan
Morgan (July 2012 Recording of the Month)