That Organ Symphony of Saint-Saens has attracted so much
attention that his other four symphonies have been almost completely upstaged,
which is a pity, for they are all fascinating and approachable, and make
rewarding listening.
This BIS release has arrived at the same time as a repackaging of
Martinons recordings of the five symphonies (minus Africa) as
a two-CD EMI reissue, thus giving me an ideal opportunity to compare the
considerably different approaches of both conductors.
Some readers might be surprised to learn that there are five Saint-Saens
symphonies, for it has often been claimed, erroneously, that the composer
wrote only three. The misunderstanding arose because two of them were not
published during Saint-Saens lifetime. The Symphony No. 2 in A Minor,
op. 55, on this disc, was the fourth symphony that he composed - it was written
in 1859 but not published until 1878, which accounts for its relatively high
opus number.
The other symphony here, the early, unnumbered, Symphony in F Major, known
as Urbs Roma (actually, the third to be written) was composed
in IX56 when Saint-Saens was 21 years old. The famous Organ
Symphony, known to us, confusingly, as No. 3, was composed last of all
in 1886.
The Second Symphony is classical in idiom with influences of Mozart, Beethoven,
and Mendelssohn. Saint-Saens orchestration is restrained. He uses no
trombones and only two horns. It is the stern, crisp, classical, almost
Beethovenian approach that Kantorow adopts throughout this Symphony (and
in the Urbs Roma Symphony); his tempos are consistently
faster than Martinons. Kantorow generates considerable tension and
excitement, and armchair conductors will have difficulty in restraining
themselves. On the other hand, Martinon prefers a more relaxed, more rhythmically
flexible approach. On the whole, Martinons Symphony sings; Kantorows
marches. I hasten to add, though, that Kantorow is warm, gentle, and elegant
enough in the Adagio, but it is Martinon who is the more Romantic, his readings
having those telling little extra nuances and more light and shade. In the
Prestissimo finale, Kantorows breathless dash, stretching his strings
to the limit I would imagine, obscures all the detail that Martinon reveals-and
he manages to make the tarantella whirl excitingly enough.
Urbs Roma means the City of Rome, but there are no real points of
reference to it, either biographically or musically, in Saint-Saens
symphony. The opening Largo begins imposingly, however, suggesting former
Roman splendour. Once again, Kantorow opts for the no-nonsense, hard classical
line, but tempered, this time, with more charm and tenderness. Martinon,
once more, chooses the sunnier, more Romantic and relaxed route. His Poco
allegretto has some delicious woodwind phrasing discreetly, and hauntingly,
backed by pp brass chords. In this movement, Martinon closely rivals
Kantorow for excitement, and he somehow invests the music with added heroism
and dignity.
The jolly and colourful Africa for Piano and Orchestra, full of good
tunes, was composed in 1890 when Saint-Saens had visited Cairo and Alexandria.
It is a sonic picture postcard of North Africa, featuring a Tunisian folk
melody. It is a virtuoso showpiece for the piano, and Laura Mikkolas
fingers flash over the keys in response to Kantorows relentless speeds.
Her interpretation is brilliant, every note and chord clearly delineated;
and she has an engagingly light touch that clearly conveys that she is enjoying
the music tremendously.
Africa is also available in a very enterprising concert, on the Cala
label, of little-known and very exotic Saint-Saens music that includes three
world premiere recordings of short orchestral items as well as the
composers Requiem. The Cala soloist, in Africa, is Gwendolyn
Mok, who has not quite the brilliance and assurance of Mikkola but she is
served by a more illuminating and atmospheric accompaniment (the woodwind
playing is especially evocative of sinuous North African rhythms) by Geoffrey
Simon and the London Philharmonic Orchestra.
Summing up, personal choice will dictate between Kantorow and Martinon. I
am sitting firmly on the fence on this occasion: I like both styles of
interpretation.
Reviewer
Ian Lace
"This review originally appeared in Fanfare (Nov/Dec 1997) and is reproduced
by kind permission of that publication"