Alfredo CASELLA (1883-1947)
Symphonic Fragments from Le Couvent sur l'eau, Op. 19 (1912-1913) [23:44]
Elegia eroica, Op. 29 (1916) [15:08]
Symphony No. 1 in B minor, Op. 5 (1905-1906) [38:00]
Gillian Keith (soprano)
BBC Philharmonic/Gianandrea Noseda
rec. September 2013 and February 2015, MediaCity, Salford, UK
Reviewed as a 24/96 Studio Master download from
The Classical Shop
Pdf booklet included
CHANDOS CHAN10880 [77:14]
There are two Casella cycles in train, one from Gianandrea
Noseda and the BBC Philharmonic (Chandos) the other from Francesco La
Vecchia and the Orchestra Sinfonica di Roma (Naxos). Both have yielded
some marvellous performances of works that are, in general, of good
quality and should be far better known. That’s certainly true
of the three symphonies; late Romantic in spirit these are big, bold
pieces that speak with a very individual voice. As for Casella’s
more peripheral output it’s rather more variable; it’s still
worth hearing, especially when it’s so passionately promoted by
conductors and ensembles of note.
We start with extracts from Le Couvent sur l'eau (The
Convent on the Water), a so-called Comédie chorégraphique penned
in collaboration the French writer Jean-Louis Vaudoyer. As Gerald Larner
points out in his liner-notes Diaghilev rejected the piece, from which
Casella then created this five-movement suite. The opener, a parodic
Marche de fête (Feast-day March), certainly gets a vivid outing
here. Listening blind one might be forgiven for thinking it a superior
piece of film music from the 1940s or 1950s. Still, it’s played
with commendable brio. The recording seems adequate rather than outstanding,
but more on that later.
The Ronde d’enfants (Children’s Round Dance) is
a bright, rather brisk little number that finds the BBC Phil in highly
virtuosic mode. It’s not Casella at anywhere near his best, and
it seems a little unwieldy at times. The third movement is in two parts,
a Barcarolle and a Sarabande, both of which are winningly
played. What a pity, then, that the Barcarolle is spoilt by
soprano Gillian Keith’s unseemly vibrato. As for the darkly sonorous
Sarabande it demonstrates Casella’s skill at investing
older forms with a contemporary warmth and amplitude.
Despite some clever touches – such as the tune for two harps,
glockenspiel (four hands) and celesta in the gently humorous Pas
des vieilles dames (The Dance of the Old Ladies) – I’m
left with the distinct impression that this is Casella-lite. The two-part
finale, made up of a Nocturne and a Danse, rather
confirms that view. Still, it’s attractive music well played.
As for the recording I don’t feel the BBC Phil are well served
by their new home at MediaCity. Indeed, I’ve yet to hear top-notch
sound from this venue. The first volume in this series, recorded at
Manchester’s now demolished New Broadcasting House, is in anther
league altogether (review).
The Elegia eroica (Heroic Elegy) was composed shortly after
Casella’s return to Italy from Paris in 1915. Scored for a large
orchestra it’s a powerful piece ‘dedicated to the memory
of a soldier killed in the war’. I first got to know it via La
Vecchia’s searing performance (review).
Now this is Casella at his best, musically astute and emotionally
intense. The contrast between heroic deeds (the nightmarish march at
the start) and child-like tenderness (the gentle lullaby at the end)
couldn't be more unsettling. La Vecchia and his Roman band are both
stark and splendid here; the Naxos recording is exceptionally vivid,
too.
Turning to Noseda’s account I was struck by how highly strung
it is; it also feels claustrophobic, and that means both depth and detail
are compromised. For instance those crowning cymbals, so thrilling in
La Vecchia’s version, are lost here. That said, the BBC Phil’s
timps and bass drum have considerable impact, and Noseda makes the most
of the score’s quieter moments. Ultimately, though, it’s
a more coherent and compelling piece than Noseda would have us believe;
La Vecchia’s carefully calibrated approach gets closer to the
wrenched heart of this remarkable work. Also, I much prefer the latter’s
recording, which is both detailed and spacious.
As it happens I have La Vecchia to thank for my initial exposure to
Casella’s First Symphony. Not only is the work one of my most
significant ‘finds’ of recent years – the Second isn’t
far behind – it’s also an early opus of uncommon skill and
stature (review).
And even though Casella had just enrolled at the Paris Conservatoire
– Gabriel Fauré was one of his teachers – his maiden symphony
isn’t remotely Gallic in character. In fact Casella dismissed
the piece as a potpourri of Borodin, Brahms and Enescu. Perhaps, but
such flippancy shouldn’t deter listeners from exploring what is
actually a very individual and rewarding work.
Having said that Noseda’s account of the first movement does
suggest such a range of influences. Goodness, this is a red-blooded,
very Russianate reading in which the players give their all. As before
the timps and bass drum are very prominent, but some listeners may find
them a tad overpowering. Chandos used to be known for their warmly expansive
recordings - they could be quite fulsome at times - but I’d rather
that than an intermittently visceral but otherwise unconvincing sound
picture. I know these things are terribly subjective, but Chandos get
far better results in Bergen's Grieg Hall - Andrew Davis's Berlioz
springs to mind - and Geneva's Victoria Hall. The latter's bang-up-to-date
recording set-up csn be heard in Neeme Järvi's recent OSR recordings;
his Offenbach in particular sounds just wonderful (review).
The lyrical, often levitating Adagio is one of the loveliest
things Casella ever wrote. It’s certainly the high point of La
Vecchia’s affectionate and very spontaneous performance. Predictably
Noseda is stronger in the trenchant passages here and in the somewhat
Tchaikovskian finale. Noseda's rhythms are more pliant than usual
and he builds to a suitably emphatic close. That same air of exhilaration
and release attends the last movement of Casella’s Second; Noseda’s
superlative account of the latter was one of my Recordings of the
Year in 2010.
For all its virtues Casella’s Op. 5 is not without its threadbare
patches, but he more than makes up for that with writing of gentle radiance
and charm. La Vecchia really brings out these qualities – it helps
that his players are so utterly engaged – and that’s why
he's my first choice for this symphony. Ditto his account of the Elegia
eroica.
Not the finest volume in Noseda’s cycle; for better performances
and sound look to La Vecchia.
Dan Morgan
twitter.com/mahlerei
Previous review: Ian
Lace (Recording of the Month)
