The London Philharmonic are closely associated with
the music of Vaughan Williams; indeed, they gave the premiere of the
Fifth at a Proms concert in June 1943. They also feature in two of the
most distinguished traversals on record - Haitink’s and Boult’s
second, both on EMI/Warner. Now we have them on this tempting twofer
from the orchestra’s own label. Re-mastered by Deborah Spanton
from the original BBC tapes the Fifth and Seventh symphonies are just
too long to accommodate on one CD, but as the set is priced at around
a tenner it represents solid value. Then there’s the
frisson
of live performances, with their attendant risk-taking and potential
for unexpected energy and insights.
In its latest incarnation Haitink’s complete EMI cycle is a real
bargain. There are other surveys, among them ones from Handley (CfP)
and Previn and Slatkin (both on RCA), but the real surprise for me was
discovering the Bournemouth recordings with Kees Bakels and Paul Daniels
(Naxos). I was particularly impressed with Bakels’ Seventh, which
is very atmospheric and, where appropriate, drenched in drama. His is
one of the most gripping and truly symphonic versions of ‘Sinfonia
Antartica’ I know; his Fifth - coupled with a powerful Ninth -
isn’t far behind.
For such a self-effacing conductor Haitink ranges far and wide; quietly
refined in Vaughan Williams’ more idyllic works, lofty in Strauss’s
quasi-philosophical ones and unforgettably eloquent in late Mahler.
He can also disturb and devastate with the trenchancy and weight of
his Shostakovich and freeze one’s blood with his Bartók.
RVW’s Fifth which, for a wartime symphony, is surprisingly serene,
finds him at his engaging and spontaneous best. The silken strings of
the gently evolving
Preludio have seldom sounded so glorious,
or the pulse so natural. What shape and presence too - the tuttis are
commanding but never overblown - and the recording sounds remarkably
rich and spacious for the Festival Hall.
It’s not often that one feels - intuitively at least - that this
is how the music
should go, but that’s the abiding impression
here. Haitink unpacks and unfolds this score with consummate skill,
and the tugging rhythms of the
Scherzo are controlled with disarming
ease. As for the LPO they respond with a rare blend of alacrity and
character, and one hears their affection for this music in every bar.
The
Romanza, with its thematic links to
The Pilgrim’s
Progress, is as open-hearted as one could wish, and again I’m
astonished at the depth and sophistication of this recording, which
is far preferable to Haitink’s studio version.
Recently I had the pleasure of hearing Haitink’s live RCO Mahler
Ninth (
review);
that shares with this Fifth a calm, all-pervading certainty - perhaps
what some might call a profound humanity - borne of accumulated wisdom
and an intimate knowledge of these scores. The crisply rendered
Passacaglia
is ample proof; inner voices are clearly articulated and then subsumed
in writing - and playing - of quiet and seamless grace. As for the timps
they are simply splendid, as are the strings and woodwinds at the long-breathed
close. I just can’t recall a more luminous summation to the symphony
than this. I’m also grateful that the deep spell - so carefully
cast - isn’t broken by yelps of ‘Bravo’ as the music
fades to silence. Indeed, the audience is mouse-quiet - unusual for
London in December - and all applause is edited out.
This ‘Sinfonia Antartica’, recorded a decade earlier, may
be fractionally imprecise at the start but it steadies and builds convincingly
to those first cliff-like tuttis. The ever-reliable Sheila Armstrong
is firmly evocative in the unforgiving wastes of the
Prelude
- the accompanying timp strokes, a grim counterpoint, are very well
caught - and Haitink carves out some mighty climaxes. The brass are
thrilling in their blend and blaze and there’s considerable bottom-end
crunch to this recording. It may not sound as well upholstered as the
Fifth, but it does have impressive clarity and impact.
After that big, Promethean
Prelude the
Scherzo is altogether
more conventional in its mood and manner. Of all the music here it’s
apt to sound the most cinematically clichéd, and that’s
a crevasse that not even Haitink can avoid. Bakels has greater thrust
and weight and he draws the loose musical threads together more effectively,
both here and in the Coleridge-inspired
Landscape. That said,
Haitink is as implacable as anyone, but for sheer, ineluctable tension
and a seismic organ Bakels gets my vote every time. Still, the RFH instrument
has a Gothic, silent-film-like excess that’s not inappropriate
here.
The
Intermezzo and
Epilogue can seem anticlimactic - even
episodic - after the cumulative strength of the preceding movements;
and so it is here, despite valiant rallies in the latter. The LPO, so
refined in the Fifth, aren’t as polished in the Seventh, and like
a Revivalist preacher Haitink struggles to inspire his recalcitrant
flock. Bakels has no need for such coercion, and he carries everyone
with him in a consistently paced and eloquent
Epilogue.
Apart from boasting good performances Haitink’s EMI/Warner box
is ridiculously good value, so all RVW fans should own it. Neither of
his Sevenths strikes me as particularly memorable, but this caught-on-the-wing
Festival Hall Fifth is everything a live recording should be, but
very seldom is: it’s played from the heart and it’s free
of the musical lapses or sonic compromises one associates with a live
event.
A Fifth of rare coherence and character; a sturdy but sporadic Seventh.
Dan Morgan
http://twitter.com/mahlerei
Vaughan Williams review index:
Symphonies
