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)
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