Symphony No.2 in C minor (arr. Anthony Payne) [54:41]
    
, Op. 333 (arr. Alban Berg) [10:55]
    rec. March 2013, St George’s, Bristol, UK
    
 We’re riding a tide of ‘The Incredibly Shrinking 
      Romantics’ at the moment, with Gilbert Kaplan’s chamber orchestra 
      version of Mahler’s 
Second Symphony on Avie, while the BIS 
      label’s ‘Opening Doors’ series with Thomas Dausgaard has 
      also entered almost comparable territory with Bruckner’s 
Second 
      Symphony played by the Swedish Chamber Orchestra. If you are looking 
      for a full-fat symphonic orchestra recording of this work then that from 
      Marcus Bosch on the Coviello label is something rather special (see 
review), 
      but if you have an interest in alternative versions of established repertoire 
      then this 20 musician-strong arrangement of Bruckner’s 
Second 
      Symphony is taking the Romantic orchestra about as far down the road 
      as it can without exploring Hummel-esque distillations into string quartet 
      and piano or the like.
       
      As explained in the booklet, this arrangement has its origins in Arnold 
      Schoenberg’s ‘Society for Private Musical Performance’, 
      which for about three years from 1918 presented works from a variety of 
      composers in chamber music settings, including a ‘signature’ 
      harmonium as a kind of contemporary continuo. Jonathan Freeman-Attwood, 
      initiator of this project, describes how this treatment “distilled 
      the very essence of the musical language into [a] micro-oeuvre”, allowing 
      the works “to resonate in challenging ways which ultimately celebrated 
      their most durable characteristics.”
       
      This is in fact a quite straightforward summary of what we hear in this 
      recording. What you miss is the breadth and grandeur of a well recorded 
      symphony orchestra – that spread of massed strings and full winds 
      and brass sonorities – but that’s about it. The scale of Bruckner’s 
      symphonic vision and the weight of his musical ideas are certainly preserved, 
      and the performance is indeed persuasive. Anthony Payne has also contributed 
      to the booklet notes, and his insightful comments provide numerous clues 
      as to how you can approach this recording as a listener. Payne has covered 
      the core effects of Bruckner’s orchestration with a string sextet, 
      single flute and oboe, and the bulk of the larger wind sonorities covered 
      by two clarinets and bassoons, three horns, one trumpet and trombone, tympani, 
      piano and the ‘signature’ harmonium.
       
      You can’t put this performance up against symphonic recordings and 
      complain about under-powered this or that, although there are inevitably 
      some passages in which the winds beat the strings into submission. You can 
      however put your experience of the music in whichever context and decide 
      how this version measures up in terms of your appreciation of Bruckner’s 
      expressive world and symphonic narrative, with all of its characteristic 
      quirkiness and unexpected shafts of inspired brilliance. The ensemble for 
      this recording is acclaimed by Anthony Payne as “one of the finest 
      chamber groups I’ve heard in the Royal Academy of Music Soloists Ensemble”, 
      and with names like BBC Young Musician finalists Emma Halnan (flute) and 
      Anna Douglass (horn) just to drop a couple of names, this is musicianship 
      at the cutting edge of a younger generation of artists we can expect to 
      hear more from in the near future. The recording is also very fine indeed, 
      the acoustic of St George’s in Bristol perfect for this kind of chamber-music-with-substance 
      setting, with detail and resonance in an ideal balance. The stereo mix is 
      excellent, the SACD layer adding extra depth in both 5.1 and 2- channel 
      sound, effects which help the definition of the instruments and add an involving 
      spread of ambience without beating us over the head with special effects.
       
      There are too many sublime moments to pick out individual sections, and 
      I have no arguments with Trevor Pinnock’s conducting. His may be a 
      name associated with early music, but in some senses this peeling back of 
      a work to its essence is comparable to research revealing what we hope is 
      the truth about any score, be it ancient or modern. My standard reference 
      for Bruckner’s symphonies is the cycle recorded for Philips by Bernard 
      Haitink with the Concertgebouw Orchestra, and Haitink’s pace and timings 
      are comparable with Pinnock’s, only the 
Scherzo gathering 
      greater momentum with the more compact ensemble and shaving a couple of 
      minutes from Haitink’s timing. Not a huge amount of detail is gone 
      into in terms of which version of the score was used, but Pinnock has “chosen 
      to adopt some of the composer’s later adjustments”, and would 
      appear to have picked the best material for a chamber music adaptation.
       
      There are inevitably some moments which are weaker than others. The development 
      which grows from about 9:30 to 10.30 in the second movement becomes a bit 
      laboured, the difficult string figurations swarming around the slowly growing 
      wind chords like angry insects. These more awkward fragments are however 
      very few, and the general impressions are those of genuine enjoyment and 
      indeed excitement.
       
      The ‘filler’ for this CD is Alban Berg’s arrangement of 
      Johann Strauss II’s 
Wein, Weib und Gesang, about which we 
      are told nothing in the booklet notes, though Berg’s music was apparently 
      a frequent inclusion in Schoenberg’s Society programmes. Funnily enough, 
      this version opens with the most ‘modern’ sounds on the disc, 
      the atmospheric piano notes and simple melodic shapes suggesting the music 
      might leap into something pastoral by Aaron Copland rather than the waltz 
      which subsequently takes shape. Strauss’s elegant tunes suit this 
      light ‘salon orchestra’ treatment perfectly, and while you needn’t 
      expect any sonic revelations this arrangement does give the harmonium an 
      occasional chance to take the foreground. The results are richly colourful 
      and highly entertaining, and if you see anyone on your station platform 
      swaying in a gentle 
balancé then there is a distinct possibility 
      they are listening to this eminently danceable performance.
       
      I will a point of seeking out other volumes in this series, Mahler’s 
      
Fourth Symphony already having appeared. When arranging music I 
      always ask myself what the positive benefits of such a project will be when 
      weighed against the composer’s original intentions. Clearly there 
      are advantages to having huge scores available for performance by more compact 
      ensembles, but with such music easily available on recordings is there any 
      real necessity for this kind of thing? I would be the last to put recordings 
      up against live performance, but this is a recording we are reviewing after 
      all. The full orchestral version is of course a default choice, but this 
      brand new-old school arrangement can open your ears to details in the symphony 
      you probably won’t have noticed before. Jonathan Freeman-Attwood mentions 
      “a fresh and perhaps even more pervasive Schubertian dialect than 
      Bruckner’s original canvas”, and I would be the last person 
      to argue against this point of view. This recording has certainly enhanced 
      my appreciation of a Bruckner symphony which wasn’t usually top of 
      the list when it came to leafing through the box set for a Bruckner ‘blast’ 
      but this has changed, and that’s good.
       
      
Dominy Clements
      
      Masterwork Index: 
Bruckner 
      symphony 2