When
I reviewed the first disc allotted to
me from this Ančerl Gold Edition
I raised the question whether Ančerl,
wonderfully gifted musician that he
was, was quite the “great” conductor
it is sometimes claimed today. It depends
what “greatness” in a conductor means
to you. To me it means an ability to
involve the orchestra and listener in
a very special and intense
spiritual experience. If this is what
it means to you, too, then it must be
said that the Ančerl recorded legacy
is not especially rich in works such
as the St. Matthew Passion, the Beethoven
Missa Solemnis or the Brahms German
Requiem which might let us judge
him alongside Klemperer, Furtwängler
or Walter. Or am I proposing a very
Teutonic concept of greatness?
Be
that as it may, and to return to the
disc in hand, I could paraphrase Schumann’s
comment on Sterndale Bennett and say
that Ančerl had at the very
least a great deal of a certain type
of greatness. His special quality seems
to lie in his perception of rhythm.
Not just in the sense of getting everything
spick and span and "rhythmically
vital" in that sense, though "Night
on the Bare Mountain" and many
parts of "Pictures" and the
"Spanish Caprice" show that
his technical control in that sense
was excellent. You will also notice,
if you listen to the Rimsky-Korsakov
, that there is nothing brash about
it; it is colourful and exuberant with
a vitality that seems to come from within
the orchestra rather than being imposed
upon it.
But if you go on or
if you hear the opening of "In
the Steppes of Central Asia" you
will hear something deeper at work.
This latter piece, apart from a few
introductory bars that reappear at the
end, has a bass ostinato rhythm which
continues throughout (and so does the
second section of the Rimsky). So many
conductors start these rhythmic
ostinatos off well enough, then devote
their attention to shaping the romantic
themes, often with lavish rubatos that
mean the ostinato has to just fend for
itself. Gorgeous, maybe, but go back
to Ančerl and you will find why
other interpretations of this
music can sound heavy. Listen through
the Borodin concentrating on the bass
line only, and you will notice that
the rhythmic activity is held undeviatingly,
yet it never seems rigid for it has
a life and a pulsation all of its own.
This is the backdrop against which the
romantic melodies are placed, and at
times they are very passionately sung
indeed, yet somehow an essential purity
of expression is always present because
the music’s roots are not lost sight
of.
If we add to this a
strong feeling for orchestral colour
and a sense of balance that can lighten
the most turgid texture, it is evident
that we have here a supreme example
of one particular way of playing these
pieces – the best way, was my reaction
after hearing the disc and putting the
Rimsky
straight back on for sheer pleasure
(but of course there isn’t really a
single and “best” way). And I hope I
haven’t given the idea that Ančerl
delivers pedantic demonstrations, for
there is a real sense of delight in
the music and a sense of communication
– listen to the unhatched chicks in
the Pictures prancing and squeaking
. Indeed, he seems to thrive on studio
conditions, as a comparison with a live
performance on tour in Switzerland (available
on Aura) shows to the (slight) detriment
of the latter.
The sound has come
up remarkably well. I suppose it yields
points to a modern state-of-the-art
version but right now I can’t think
of performances of these pieces that
I’d rather hear.
Christopher Howell