Sibelius is well represented in articles and reviews
on the Musicweb, and I have no wish to duplicate – much less disagree
with – the views of other writers. This is a subjective view of how
interpretations of the great Finnish composer have changed over the
years and, as always, the qualities of any performance rests, in the
final analysis, with who is listening to it. However, not only has the
sound of recorded performances improved over the years, but the approach
to Sibelius’s works by orchestras, conductors and audiences has also
changed significantly.
In Musical Opinion, July 1932, after a visit to London
by the National Finnish Orchestra (quoted by Malcolm MacDonald in "Performing
Sibelius" on this site) Havergal Brian (writing as ‘La Main Gauche’)
remarks on "the divergence of playing between English and Finnish orchestras",
adding "The Sibelius symphonies played by, say, Beecham, Wood and Harty
vary mostly in the way of dynamics and rhythm: the biggest punches come
from Wood, smartly marked rhythm from Harty, and the finest musicality
from Beecham, which includes both punch and rhythm. There is no doubt
that the records issued recently by the Sibelius Society of this symphonies
played by an English orchestra under a Finnish conductor are unlike
the performances of the same works under English conductors".
Today it is difficult to recall the thrill that passed
through the world of music when HMV's Sibelius Society recordings were
released. In the late ’30s a couple of music students and I pooled our
slender resources and bought them, one by one, in their enticing brown,
gold-lettered albums, listening with growing wonder as a magnificent
new sound world unfolded. Sibelius was not unknown in Britain at the
time, but until then was represented on records mainly by shorter works,
such as "Valse Triste", the "Karelia Suite" and "Finlandia". This encouraged
a few critics to attach the "nationalist" label to his music; but when
the symphonies appeared few could deny there was far more than nationalism
to a composer who, almost single-handedly, was rescuing the symphony
at a time when many musical pundits were writing it off. Yes, here were
the "punches" and "smartly marked rhythm" already observed; but here
also was a bolder, more challenging use of symphonic form, an original
harmonic and rhythmic language and the sheer architectural grandeur
that makes the Sibelian sound immediately identifiable. Now that many
new recordings of the symphonies, tone poems and shorter pieces, together
with some CD transfers of earlier LP performances, have become available
it is, perhaps, opportune to reflect on "the divergence of playing"
that still exists.
Many of Sibelius’s works were completed when Finland
was widely regarded as being on the periphery of European music. He
worked in the enormous shadows cast by Mahler, Elgar, Stravinsky and
others, and the Second World War deprived him of an international audience.
Yet, even in a world that had, at last, assimilated Schoenberg, Berg,
Bartók, Stravinsky, Richard Strauss and others, Sibelius’s voice
was unusual. The music is strongly key-centred and rooted in post-romantic
impressionism. It does not so much challenge nineteenth century symphonic
conventions as reassert their importance to the twentieth. It is a harmless
pastime to identify composers’ "influences" but, while Mahlerian,
even Tchaikovskian, echoes can occasionally be heard, for the most part
Sibelius remains uniquely himself.
The majority of the symphonies and tone poems available
in Britain on record between the 30s and late 50s were by English orchestras
and conductors, including Beecham, Anthony Collins, Boult and Barbirolli.
A notable exception was the Finnish conductor Robert Kajanus (1856-1933),
an early champion of Sibelius who gave many impressive and authoritative
readings of his works. A few Kajanus transfers, such as a 3-CD set on
the Finlandia label, can occasionally be found in catalogues.
The LP era saw the rise of the great European and American
orchestras and their high profile conductors. Almost immediately Sibelius
became more firmly established on his lonely eminence: the intricate
orchestration, poetry and grandeur of the symphonies, the Nordic gloom
and glitter of the tone poems and accomplished scene-painting of works
such as The Swan of Tuonela, Night Ride and Sunrise, Tapiola
and The Bard are irresistible; but was there still a "secret"
Sibelius yet to be discovered? For example the 2nd Symphony with Ormandy
and the Philadelphia Orchestra (recorded in 1972 and digitally remastered
in RCA’s Classical Navigator series) makes me wonder whether such highly
polished, thrill-a-minute versions obscure something more profound under
their brilliant surfaces. Sibelius was not a particularly prolific composer
and, though he was to live for another three decades, virtually retired
from the international music scene after completing his 7th Symphony
in 1924. It is therefore easy to forget that, as well as being a magician,
he was also a remarkable innovator and, after more than 70 years, some
of his works still possess a curiously opaque quality.
Such thoughts occurred to me in the ’60s, a particularly
rich period for Sibelius recordings, when a number of LPs by Tauno Hannikainen
with the London Symphony Orchestra appeared on various labels. Hannikainen,
a celebrated interpreter of Bruckner, worked in the USA from 1940 until
the ’60s, part of that time as assistant to the legendary Fritz Reiner
and his Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and had studied and discussed the
scores with the master himself. Here, then, was a reasonable chance
of hearing some convincing, even "authentic", performances.
To me this was the case. Hannikainen’s approach is revelatory – robust,
subtly controlled and meticulously phrased, yet with a spaciousness
that lifts the music out of the concert hall transports it to the strange
landscape where Sibelius’s music lives. Incidentally, the widespread
belief that Sibelius can be fully realised only by hand-reared Scandinavian
orchestras was, at the same time, disproved: the LSO plays as to the
manner born. These LPs may now be difficult to find; try the excellent
s/h LP service offered by Spiral Classics, which is linked to this site.
A CD transfer of the Violin Concerto with Hannikainen, the LSO and Tossy
Spivakovsky {Everest EVC 9035) exists, though, I was disconcerted to
read in the sleeve note by Malcolm Rayment on the original LP that "a
pertinent question today is whether Sibelius is on the point of suffering
a period of semi-oblivion" and, in the same note, the (unattributed)
opinion "we are now told that Sibelius has been hopelessly over
rated, and that he was no more than a minor figure in twentieth-century
music", though Mr. Rayment generously allows that "if the
‘new’ attitude to Sibelius is correct then he was one of the most successful
charlatans who ever lived".
Recordings of the symphonies and some of the tone poems
made by Anthony Collins with the LSO between 1952 and 1955 appeared
in 1993 on a 4-CD set from Beulah (1-4PD8)[nla], and was enthusiastically
reviewed (with some reservations as to the recorded sound) in Rob
Barnett’s review on Musicweb in October 1999. In his valuable
introduction and comparisons on this site Gerald Fenech rates Collins
as "the best guide through [Sibelius’s] musical landscape".
This is not a discography, and a number of highly recommended CD transfers
of the complete symphonies and some of the tone poems, such as those
from the late late ’60s and ’70s by Barbirolli with the Hallé
and Paavo Berglund with the Bournemouth SO for EMI, have been well received
on this site. The five-CD
set by Barbirolli includes finely-wrought versions of more romantic
works, such as Scenes Historiques, the Karelia Suite,
Pelleas and Melisande and Rakastava (a reminder that those
who know only the symphonies do not know their Sibelius). In the symphonies
Barbirolli’s preference for restrained tempi, sharp contrasts and fine
detail discover much that can be lost in more helter-skelter interpretations.
The most exciting versions of the tone poems – at least until
Vänskä’s recently-issued performance (see below) – came, perhaps
surprisingly, from Boult and the LPO in the ’50s, rescued in 2000 on
a two-CD set from Omega Classics (OCD1927 and 1928). The temptation
to play Sibelius like a Finnish Elgar (and it has happened) is here
firmly resisted. Boult strips the music of any traces of comfortable
opulence, replacing it with passion and drama.
More recently several complete sets of the symphonies
have appeared and (with the exception of the over-stuffed approach of
Maazel and the VPO) justify, in their various ways, the critical acclaim
they have received, though I find none consistently outstanding. The
extrovert 5th with its intricate progression of themes and fragments
of themes that carry it to its impressive conclusion, that authentic
chiller-thriller En Saga and the vivid Violin Concerto rarely
fail to connect; yet I remain convinced that a re-assessment of the
ways in which Sibelius’s major works are approached by many conductors
is called for. On this site Mr. Fenech refers to "near misses"
by Ashkenazy, Barbirolli and Maazel in the 6th symphony – not, at least
superficially, a particularly complex work – and the "curiously
elusive" character of the 7th Symphony – a judgement with which
I concur.
The latest sets of the symphonies and some of the tone
poems to have appeared amply fulfil my highest expectations – the
persuasive, splendidly
played versions by Osmo Vänskä and the Lahti SO made in
2000 and 2001 have earned almost universal critical acclaim. If any
Sibelius recordings merit the word "definitive" these must
surely be them. Vänskä’s grasp of the "ground plan"
of both symphonies and tone poems is phenomenal and exciting. Tony Haywood
puts his finger on their unique appeal when he mentions (of En Saga)
in July
2002 Vänskä’s "virtually ideal pacing" letting
"the phrases and paragraphs unfold in a natural and unforced way".
This could, I believe, be said of this conductor’s entire approach.
The finely held balance, impeccable phrasing and confident moulding
of melodic lines, from quietest pianissimo to cataclysmic crescendo.
are breathtaking. The bleak 4th Symphony is an excellent example. In
the first movement (molto moderato quasi adagio) Vänskä’s
daringly slow tempi succeed in revealing the deeply personal nature
of a work that has frequently eluded other Sibelius interpreters. The
inclusion of two versions of the 5th Symphony, the original four-movement
one first heard in 1915 and the three-movement one performed a year
later, provides a fascinating insight into the evolutionary creative
process that Sibelius often used (for example in En Saga (1892
and 1902) and the Violin Concerto (1903 and 1904)). The first version
would probably have been given a respectable place in the Sibelius oeuvre,
but the final version, with its taut outlines and elemental nature is
undoubtedly the finer.
As stated at the outset, these are personal notes.
What emerges from them is, I hope, that the works merit more intensive
listening and closer investigation than, perhaps due to their immediate
appeal,, they sometimes receive. Indeed Sibelius might well have been
considered ripe for the "historically informed" treatment
that several 19th and 20th century composers have been receiving lately
had not Vänskä demonstrated that a meticulous reading of the
scores and a deep understanding of the composer’s inner world of the
imagination are the key to the true voice of the Finnish master.
Roy Brewer
