Sergei PROKOFIEV (1891-1953)
 Cantata for the 20th Anniversary of the October Revolution, Op. 74 (1937)
 Ernst Senff Chor Berlin; members of the Luftwaffenmusikkorps, Erfurt;
    Staatskapelle Weimar/Kirill Karabits
 rec. live, 23 August 2017, Weimarhalle, Weimar
 Reviewed as a 24/48 stereo download from
    
        Audite
    
 Pdf booklet includes texts in transliterated Russian, German & English
 AUDITE 97.754
    [41:55]
	
	Recorded a hundred years after the seismic event it celebrates, this piece
    finds Kirill Karabits in a very different world to that of Kara Karayev,
    whose ballet music is the subject of his superb new
    Chandos
    recording. However, he’s no stranger to Prokofiev, as he and the
    Bournemouth Symphony have demonstrated with their symphony cycle for Onyx.
    Admittedly, my colleagues were rather more positive about that project than
    I was, but, for me at least, the Karayev album really marks out Karabits as
    a ‘conductor of interest’. Indeed, it was one of my top picks for 2017.
 
    As so often, serendipity has played a part in the genesis of this review.
Waiting to board a train many years ago I bought a copy of the    BBC Music magazine [Vol. 5 No. 2], barely glancing at the
    cover-mounted CD. Only when I got home I noticed it contained live
performances of the Prokofiev Cantata and Shostakovich’s    To October, the latter written for the 10th anniversary of the
    Revolution. Both feature the BBC Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, augmented
    by the Geoffrey Mitchell Choir, under Mark Elder. These works were new to
    me, but such is the proselytizing passion of the performances that they
    quickly became firm favourites.
 
    Then, a few weeks ago, John Quinn mentioned this new Karabits recording. I
    thought no more about it until a chance encounter on a web forum, which
    indicated a 24/48 download could be had, direct from Audite, for a miserly
    €4.99. Yes, it is only 42 minutes of music, but it’s far better value than
    the CD, which costs up to three times as much online. Given that high-res
    downloads are generally overpriced, this one is a bona fide bargain. What’s
    more, it includes a digital booklet with texts and translations: other
    labels, please note.
 
    Speaking of bargains, Neeme Järvi’s 1992 recording, with the Philharmonia
    Orchestra and Chorus, was reissued in 2009; the 16-bit download – with Pdf
    booklet and artwork – is available from
    
        Chandos.net
    
    for just £7.99. And that looks even more tempting when you factor in
    excerpts from Prokofiev’s ballet, The Stone Flower. It’s a fine
    album – more on that later – but it’s not in the same league as Järvi’s
sensational (R)SNO pairing of Alexander Nevsky and the    Scythian Suite; recorded in spectacular sound, these are my
    benchmarks for both works. As an aside, I’m pleased that Chandos updated
    their website a while back; not only does it look good, it also works well.
 
    Intended to chart the rise of the Soviet Union from the start of the
    Revolution in October 1917 to the consolidation of Stalin’s power in the
    1930s, this ten-movement Cantata fell victim to the political
    uncertainties of the time. Finally premiered in 1966, the piece demands a
    full orchestra, eight-part chorus, military band, bells, sirens, sundry
    ordnance and the ‘voice of Lenin’ heard through a megaphone. Karabits takes
    that role here – Gennadi Rozhdestvensky does it for Järvi – all of which
    adds to the fun. I say that because, at times, it’s not easy to take this
    music too seriously. Ditto Shostakovich’s
    
        To October
    
    , which actually sounds quite modest next to Prokofiev’s ear-battering
    behemoth.
 
    Goodness, the start of Karabits’s Cantata is hair-raising, the
    percussion seat-pinning in its presence and power. The chorus is equally
    impressive when it enters in the second movement, Philosophers, and
there’s plenty of thump and thrust when it comes to Marching    in Close Ranks and the Interlude that follows. Bombastic? Oh
    yes, but it’s oddly compelling, too. The harp figures in Revolution
    are nicely done and the singing is suitably animated; ideally, the choral
    spread could be wider, the audio image deeper, but that’s a minor quibble.
    At least the bells are bright and very audible, and the siren sounds
    terrific; as for the conductor, he makes a rousing Vladimir Ilyich, loud
    hailer and all.
 
Interestingly, Karabits often presages the style and sound of the upcoming    Nevsky, raspy brass and febrile chorus to the fore. Victory
and The Pledge, marked Andante and Andante    pesante respectively, provide some respite before the rather
attractive little Symphony and the hymn-like finale, The    Constitution. The vast forces deployed – Järvi and Elder are more
    modest in that respect – ensure a pate-cracking performance, but, alas,
    it’s not one I’d wish to revisit (although I am keen to hear Karabits
    conduct Nevsky and Ivan). Judging by the applause, the Weimar
    audience clearly felt they got plenty of bang for their buck.
 
    John Quinn felt Karabits’s Cantata had more impact than Järvi’s,
    and, in general, I’d agree. However, there’s a clarity – a seriousness,
    even – to the latter’s reading that makes this newcomer seem even more
    overblown than it is. I suppose one could argue such public paeans need to
    be played for all they’re worth, but the downside here is that Karabits
    misses much of the care and craft embedded in the score. Despite fine
    playing and singing, Järvi is probably too restrained. Nevertheless,
    Ralph Couzens– Ben Connellan assisting – provided a vivid, well-balanced
    recording that’s a pleasure to listen to. The filler is a welcome bonus.
 
    Recorded live at the Royal Festival Hall in February 1996, Elder’s
    performance – engineered by Philip Burwell – is blessed with a rare sense
    of space. The choral spread is excellent, and, thanks to chorus master
    Stephen Jackson, there’s a unanimity and full-throated fervour to the
    singing that rivals can’t match. Most important, Elder’s reading is
    intensely musical, without sacrificing raw excitement; the Maxim gun
    in Revolution, for example, is just marvellous. He also brings
    coherence and cumulative power to the piece, and, in so doing does full
    justice to the score; indeed, I can’t imagine a more thoughtful and
    illuminating account of the Cantata than this. Even better, the CD
    can be had second-hand for a few quid. Now that’s a bargain!
 
    Karabits goes way over the top and Järvi doesn’t go far enough; Elder gets
    it just right.
 
    Dan Morgan
         
 
    Previous reviews:
    
        John Quinn
    ~ Marc Rochester