Oleg Caetani, son of
Igor Markevitch (‘Caetani’ is a matronymic),
is a student of the great Kirill Kondrashin.
He appears here with an orchestra that
boasts Riccardo Chailly as principal
conductor and Carlo Maria Giulini as
Conductor Emeritus, and the disc is
recorded in the new (1999) Auditorium
di Milano. As a recording it is impressive
(sample the cellos and basses and generally
or, in particular, the opening of the
second movement of the Fifth for a winning
combination of definition and depth).
The Fifth, of course,
enters a very, very crowded field indeed,
and this is emphatically not a version
to have one scurrying to re-evaluate
the Shostakovich shelf, despite moments
of strength. For a live performance,
performance standards may be generally
high, but where is the extra intensity
a live event is supposed to bring with
it?. The very close of second movement
of the Fifth, which should be so dismissive,
is here a damp squib; the slow movement
lacks emotional focus (this is Bernstein
territory, really); the finale is under-powered,
especially from the brass. Timpani are
muted (they need to be more incisive
– harder sticks would have been a good
idea) and the trumpet solo at 2’30 is
very recessed (all we can really hear
are swirling strings – the trumpet may
as well be off-stage).
There is some
expressive playing here (the flute and
harp duet in the slow movement is magical,
for example), but the end result is
interpretatively diffuse.
The Sixth Symphony
is a masterpiece that has been overshadowed
by the more immediate appeal of the
Fifth. A great shame – it needs more
exposure in our concert halls. It receives
a better performance overall than the
Fifth. The first movement (Largo) does
possess a rather intriguing inevitability
despite its harmonic/gestural ambiguities
(or, as the booklet notes would have
it, ‘instable harmony’!). But Caetani
can smooth out textures that Shostakovich
obviously needs to sound as bare as
possible, weakening the effect of some
passages. Problems of live performance
inform the middle Allegro, although
many will warm to the crunching climax
(4’22). A more manic approach, too,
would have paid dividends in the comic-strip
antics of the Presto finale, where again
the perils of public performance are
highlighted.
Worthwhile remembering,
too, that Mravinsky (who premiered the
work in November 1939) and the Leningraders
are available at medium price on Le
Chant du Monde, recorded in 1955 in
Prague, profitably coupled with the
Twelfth Symphony. To listen to Mravinsky
in the first movement of the Sixth is
to enter into another world from Caetani’s
entirely. Viscerally intense, memorably
disturbing to the core, Mravinsky lays
the score open for the listener like
an raw wound and leaves one in no doubt
whatsoever that this is great music.
His orchestra, of course, is the real
thing – there is an intrinsic rightness
about the woodwind tone and phrasing,
and the strings play preternaturally
together, negotiating Shostakovich’s
tricky corners with seeming ease. Polyansky
on Chandos boasts an interesting
filler (The Execution of Stepan Razin,
Op. 119) but, like Caetani, signally
fails to rise to Mravinsky’s heights.
Despite some impressive
moments, then, Caetani remains ultimately
unrecommendable. In addition, confusion
currently reigns as to the price of
this disc. International Record Review
claims full price; Gramophone
budget; Amazon budget/lower medium;
HMV medium. So, should you want it,
shop around – I have previously seen
Arts discs for super-budget before now!.
Colin Clarke
Giuseppe Verdi Symphony Orchestra, Milan/Oleg
Caetani