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Felix MENDELSSOHN
(1809-1847)
A Midsummer Night’s Dream (William Shakespeare
(1564-1616))
Overture, Op.21 [11.44]; Incidental music, Op.61 [100.08]
(with play adapted by Adrian Farmer)
Eirian James and Judith Howarth (sopranos): Scottish Philharmonic
Singers; Scottish Chamber Orchestra/Jaime Laredo
with John Holbeck (Theseus, Snout); Susan Oliver (Hippolyta,
Helena); Ian Sexon (Egeus, Philostrate, Bottom); Helen McGregor
(Hermia, Fairy); William Elliott (Demetrius, Flute); Ray Dunsire
(Lysander, Quince, Snug); William Blair (Puck, Starveling); Richard
Greenwood (Oberon, Snout, Cobweb); Elizabeth Phillips-Scott (Titania)
rec. 1985 using Ambisonic microphones; Venue and date otherwise
unstated
NIMBUS NI 5041/2 [54.42 + 57.10]
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Mendelssohn’s incidental music to A Midsummer Night’s Dream
is one of those theatrical scores, like Grieg’s Peer Gynt,
which loses immeasurably by being given in the form of orchestral
suites without dialogue. Much of the music is written to be
performed as ‘melodrama’, that is, spoken over orchestral accompaniment.
Without the voices much of the dramatic impact which the composer
intended is lost. So it makes sense to perform the score, as
here, in the context of an abridged version of the Shakespeare
play for which it was originally composed.
When this is done, it is essential that the interplay between
music and dialogue is tightly maintained so that there are no
unseemly delays or mismatches between the two. This is certainly
achieved here, for the actors are in the same acoustic space
as the orchestra. The recording venue is not given, but to judge
from the booklet photographs it does not look like the reverberant
hall at Wyastone Leys where so many Nimbus recordings are made
although it sounds very similar. This means that the actors
are set slightly back in a realistic theatrical ambience and
not in the close-up focus to which listeners may be accustomed.
It works well, although the voices of the actors are sometimes
somewhat lacking in immediacy when they move away from the microphone.
The doublings of the actors are somewhat peculiar – sometimes
they are taking two distinct roles in the same scene, adopting
different accents. The mechanicals appear to be decidedly Scottish,
while the various pairs of lovers and the fairies - including
the proletarian Puck - are very English. Adrian Farmer’s abridgement
of the Shakespeare play is sensible, and no elements of the
disparate plot are lost; while there is plenty of sense of stage
movement in the placement of the actors. They are perhaps not
the most characterful of performers, but their nicely paced
delivery will perhaps better bear repetition than any barnstorming
would.
After the overture – written by the teenage Mendelssohn some
thirty years before the rest of the score – the whole of the
First Act of Shakespeare’s play is devoid of incidental music;
just over eight minutes of dialogue here. As we move into the
enchanted wood, the orchestral cues come thick and fast. After
the Scherzo, in the scene between Puck and the Fairy,
Jaime Laredo is not quite as prompt in picking up the cues as
one might wish. The final fragmentary reminiscence of the scherzo
- which should perhaps underpin dialogue – although the cues
in my score only give the German translation which Mendelssohn
originally used - is played between spoken phrases.
The brief snippets of music make much better logic here than
in the context which we sometimes hear them, where they are
played one after the other without any sense of the dialogue
which they are intended to illustrate. The underpinnings of
the scenes where Oberon and Puck enchant the lovers and Bottom,
for example, positively require the dialogue in order to make
any sense at all of the music. It is perhaps odd that Mendelssohn
composes no music for the song which Bottom sings and which
awakes Titania. The tune employed here fits well with the quotations
from the overture which are sprinkled throughout the scene.
The extensive melodrama passages which in the score constitute
No.6 (practically all of Act Three of the play – including the
dialogue this is by a considerable margin the longest movement
in the score) are split between the two CDs, but the break makes
dramatic sense.
Jaime Laredo uses a smallish orchestra, matching the size which
Mendelssohn might have expected. The balance is excellent with
the strings well defined and the woodwind – not too predominant
– nice and characterful. There are innumerable recordings of
this music, and listeners may well prefer a larger and more
upholstered sound, but there is nevertheless plenty of body
here. The romantic Nocturne is beautifully played with
the right sort of impassioned dreaminess, and the famous Wedding
March has all the panache that one would wish at a proper
Allegro vivace speed. The delightful reprise of a passage
from the Nocturne (with a new string counterpoint)
that underlines Oberon’s words “Come, my queen, takes hands
with me” is a real emotional highlight. Incidentally the (in)famous
passage for ophicleide in the Bergomask Dance sounds
as though a real ophicleide was used, or maybe it is just a
deliciously vulgar tuba. It is much less noticeable in the similar
passage in the Overture, and the clearly deliberate
distinction shows how carefully the dramatic side of the music
has been considered.
The play-within-a-play Pyramus and Thisbe has almost
no incidental music until the little funeral march - often played
as a purely instrumental number without the dialogue intended
to be spoken over it - at the end, and constitutes the second
longest passage of spoken dialogue (about seven minutes) in
this recording. The actors here don’t make as much of the humour
as they might. The result is the one point in this recording
which drags a little; Ian Sexon as Bottom sounds more than a
little like Billy Connolly here. The final scene, from the Bergomask
Dance onward, is a real delight. First we have the diminuendo
reprise of the Wedding March which leads into the opening
chords of the overture, sustained under Oberon’s words “Through
the house give glimmering light”. This music really only makes
sense with the dialogue. Recording both simultaneously means
that the correlation between the two can be precisely judged.
There are several other recordings of the Mendelssohn score
which make use of actors (many very distinguished) to speak
the dialogue in the appropriate places. All those I have heard
have clearly been post-dubbed, with the speaking voices set
down over previously recorded orchestral tracks. This may be
inevitable where CDs are destined for the international market,
but it seems to me that Shakespeare’s text deserves to be heard
in the original language, just as we accept much inferior spoken
dialogue when we listen to recordings of German and French operettas
by Strauss and Offenbach. The give-and-take of recording speakers
and orchestra at the same time - even if sometimes the interchange
could be crisper here - pays considerable dividends. Those who
are allergic to the speeches may be disappointed to find that
the tracking on these CDs does not allow the dialogue to be
skipped, but they will miss the essential element of drama which
is implicit in Mendelssohn’s score. Non-English speaking listeners
should however note that no texts or translations of the play
are given in the booklet.
As a recording of the Shakespeare play and Mendelssohn’s incidental
music treated as an integral unit, then, this is very much a
set which stands unchallenged in the catalogue. Its only rival
for completeness - and the text is much more heavily cut - comes
from mainly Parisian forces conducted by John Nelsons, with
a cast of genteel and anonymous actors from the “Oxford and
Cambridge Shakespeare Society” who are located in a clearly
different acoustic from the singers and orchestra. Listeners
who love this music, one of the greatest works ever written
for the spoken theatre, should experience it in its dramatic
context; afterwards hearing the music shorn of the dialogue
will be discovered to be forever unsatisfactory.
Paul Corfield Godfrey
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