It would be churlish
– and inaccurate – to deny that this
issue contains some really superb recordings
of the great Czech composer’s work.
It is one of three sets to appear so
far in which Warner are marking the
centenary of Dvořák’s
death; the other two being devoted to
the later symphonies and symphonic poems
and to the chamber
music.
Yet I can’t help regretting
that Warner haven’t thought of commissioning
any new recordings for this auspicious
and important commemoration. I suppose
that would be a lot to ask in these
impoverished days, but this set does
have a ‘warmed over’ feel to it, brought
about partly by the odd assortment of
music – concertos, yes, but also the
Requiem, the two Serenades, Slavonic
Dances, and a couple of arias thrown
in for good measure - and partly
by the very variable performances, which
in vintage range from Neumann’s Slavonic
Rhapsody of 1972 to Vengerov’s
1997 Violin Concerto, which,
when I last looked, was still in the
catalogue.
CD1 begins with Rostropovich’s
1985 recording of the Cello Concerto.
The great Mstislav is incapable of a
poor performance, yet he is definitely
not at his best here. There is not the
intensity of involvement one usually
feels so strongly in his playing of
this work, and the orchestral contribution
under Ozawa is distinctly lack-lustre,
not helped by poor recording balance.
Vengerov’s reading of the Violin Concerto
is another matter; this is a superb
performance and he and Masur collaborate
wonderfully well. The young Russian
captures the dance rhythms perfectly,
yet is equally at home in the lyricism
and fantasy of the slow movement.
The Piano Concerto,
which begins CD2, has never been a favourite
of mine; the writing for the solo instrument
is uncharacteristically clumsy, and
there is an uncomfortable feeling of
forced seriousness about the opening
movement, which in any case, at over
eighteen minutes, rather overstays its
welcome. However, it is fascinating
to hear the clear echoes of Chopin in
the attractive slow movement. This is
where the performance is at its best,
though the piano and wind instruments
are far from perfectly in tune with
each other. The very beautiful Violin
Romance – why don’t we hear this more
often? – and the attractive cello solo
Silent Woods follow, and the
CD is completed by Vaclav Neumann’s
account of the D major Slavonic Rhapsody.
This is a mediocre piece, but it is
good to have a track from a genuine
Czech orchestra – in this case the great
Philharmonic itself.
CD3 begins with the
Serenade for Strings in a fine performance
by the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra under
Hugh Wolff. On the other hand, I had
my doubts to start with about the Wind
Serenade that follows; comparing it
with the recording I reviewed recently
by I Solisti del Vento, which is a bold,
sonorous reading, I at first found this
a bit timid. However, it grew on me,
and I ended up being very much convinced.
Whereas I Solisti produced a powerful
orchestral sound, this group treats
the piece as large-scale chamber music,
leading to a greater intimacy in the
interplay between the instruments and
groupings. All the detail is revealed,
and the music has a natural, unforced
vibrancy to it.
I wasn’t sure what
to expect from the next disc; Harnoncourt
in all honesty is not a conductor I
associate with Slavonic Dances! But
then, why not? He has produced exciting,
challenging readings of Mozart and Haydn
orchestral music, and it’s but a short
step to Dvořák in this vein. And
so it proves – the playing is alert,
supple and colourful, and Harnoncourt
has an instinctive feeling for the dance
rhythms and the subtle fluctuations
of pulse. Maybe some of the quick ones
are simply a bit too fast
for comfort, but there’s no denying
the life in these beautifully prepared
interpretations.
CDs
5 and 6 are devoted to Dvořák’s
largest sacred choral work, the Requiem
of 1891. Though it contains many
inspiring and imaginative passages,
I persist in regarding this as a courageous
failure. The composer seems to have
trouble in sustaining his inspiration
over the large structures, so that many
movements have a fidgety, discontinuous
feel to them. Perhaps I could be persuaded
to change my mind by a really fine performance
– but this certainly isn’t it. The Chśur
de Radio France simply isn’t disciplined
or secure enough to cope with the multifarious
demands of the music, for their tuning
is often wayward and their ensemble
ragged, so much so that there were numerous
places where I wondered why the producers
didn’t go for another take – but perhaps
they just ran out of time. The orchestral
playing is undistinguished, and the
four soloists, while possessed of fine
voices, struggle with their own serious
tuning problems in their quartets –
though in fairness, the composer does
make quite impracticable demands in
some of these ensembles. Another distracting
feature is that the engineers have chosen
to surround the solo voices with rather
artificial sounding reverberation.
A pity to end on a
negative note; but I have to say that
I couldn’t recommend this set as a purchase
– there are too many items that are
mediocre or worse. Only the Violin Concerto
and the Slavonic Dances (and perhaps
the two serenades) are worthy to rank
with the best versions that are available.
Gwyn Parry-Jones