Samuel BARBER (1910-1981)
Toccata Festiva, Op 36 (1960) [15:42]
Francis POULENC (1899-1963)
Concerto in G minor for Organ, Strings and Timpani (1938) [25:13]
Camille SAINT-SAËNS (1835-1921)
Symphony No 3 in C minor, ‘Organ’ (1886) [38:01]
Olivier Latry (organ)
Philadelphia Orchestra/Christoph Eschenbach
rec. live, May 2006, Verizon Hall, Kimmel Center, Philadelphia
Reviewed as a 16-bit download
Pdf booklet included
ONDINE ODE 1094-5 SACD
[78:53]
Given the dearth of new releases during the pandemic, I’ve resorted to
scouring the back catalogue for morsels I might have missed. And what fun
it’s been, with a lengthening list of releases awaiting review. High among
them is this live Philadelphia/Eschenbach recording from 2006, with Olivier
Latry, the distinguished French organist, as soloist. I was much impressed
with the latter’s performance of the Saint-Saëns, recorded with Pascal Rophé
and the Orchestre Philharmonique de Liège two months after this Philly one (Cypres). But the coupling, Joseph Jongen’s Symphonie Concertante turned
out to be the bigger treat. (Now there’s a piece that should be
much better known.)
For some time my top choice for the Saint-Saëns and Poulenc has
been a live recording made at the newly renovated Royal Festival Hall in
March 2014. It features Yannick Nézet-Séguin, the LPO and organist James
O’Donnell in fresh, beautifully paced performances of both works. The sound
is equally attractive, the refurbished organ especially well caught (London Philharmonic). I’ve yet to hear a first-rate recording of the Barber, although the one
with Raymond Leppard, the English Chamber Orchestra and the esteemed
British organist Dame Gillian Weir is decent enough (Linn CKD 178 -
DL Roundup, September 2009). That
said, Tonbridge School’s modest Marcussen is dwarfed by the Kimmel Center’s
6,938-pipe, 111-stop Dobson, currently the largest mechanical-action
concert-hall organ in the US.
Commissioned for the inauguration of a new organ at Philadelphia’s Academy
of Music, the Toccata Festiva was premiered by Paul Callaway, Eugene
Ormandy and his fabled band in September 1960. It’s a highly inventive and
engaging piece – it’s quirky, too – which Latry plays with all the panache
one would expect of him. But while he can certainly turn up the wick when
required, he also knows when to turn it down, and that’s very welcome in
quieter passages. As for Eschenbach, he’s a wonderfully intuitive
accompanist who elicits glowing responses from his orchestra. As for the
engineers, they’ve provided a spacious, detailed and believably balanced
recording that puts the listener in one of the hall’s very best seats.
Indeed, this sensible, beautifully choreographed performance is all the
more rewarding for not succumbing to excess. I was bowled over by the array
of colours and ear-tweaking timbres thus revealed, not to mention the
seemingly effortless nature of those floor-shaking tuttis. The snare and
bass drums, cymbals and tam tam are superbly rendered as well. And what a
finale it is, a glorious panoply of seat-pinning sound. Really, I can’t
imagine the piece better played and recorded than it is here.
The Poulenc concerto is even more satisfying, the performance brimming with
Gallic wit and charm. It’s also a reminder of just how sensitive a
performer Latry is, his playing quite ravishing at times. Eschenbach and
his band are in rapt and responsive attendance throughout, while the very
transparent recording adds immeasurably to one’s enjoyment of the piece.
Any caveats? Well, some rivals find a little more ‘bounce’ in this music -
O’Donnell and Nézet-Séguin are pretty good at that - it’s Latry and
Eschenbach who uncover the detail and nuances others tend to miss. However,
these LPO and Ondine releases have something important in common: a
reassuring sense of a shared and equal enterprise whose priorities are
entirely musical. Anyone who knows and loves this piece should hear them
both.
In this, Saint-Saëns’s centenary year, I’ve been reminding myself that,
despite the ubiquity of his Third Symphony, he’s not just a one-trick pony.
(His piano concertos have given me much pleasure of late, several of them
very well played by a group of up-and-coming artists,
Louis Schwizgebel
and
Alexandre Kantorow
among them.) No doubt, there are those who think this warhorse is ready for
the knacker’s yard. I’ve felt something similar after hearing yet another
routine reading, only to discover a very good one that proves there’s life
in this spavined old beast yet.
The opening bars of the Philadelphia performance are beautifully
calibrated, those pizzicato figures elegantly done, all of which
is most encouraging. Eschenbach seems to have found the tempo giusto already, the orchestra sounding as refined as one could
wish. Those silken strings are a special delight. As for Latry’s first
entry, it’s magical, rather like Gaston Litaize’s memorable opener in the
classic Daniel Barenboim/Chicago Symphony recording from the 1970s
(Deutsche Grammophon). Again, I was struck by the sheer naturalness
of Ondine’s presentation; underpinning pedals are discreet yet powerful,
while the airy, uncluttered mix allows even minor
contributions – the piano, for instance – to be discerned with
ease. Such felicities wouldn’t count for much if the performance weren’t so
compelling, so sure-footed. Eschenbach ensures climaxes are proportionate,
and the organ, very much an equal partner here, never swamps the orchestra.
As so often, such a carefully scaled approach seems all the more thrilling
for being so. That’s certainly true of the mighty Dobson, unleashed in the
closing pages. This finale is simply overwhelming - in the best sense – the
Philadelphia percussionists showing mettle at last. This is now my go-to
version of the symphony. In fact, that accolade applies to its companions,
too.
Unassailable performances, superbly recorded; a must for your desert
island.
Dan Morgan
