The ‘Leningrad’ is 
                a notoriously difficult work to bring 
                off convincingly. Gergiev on Philips 
                470 845-2 (with the combined Kirov and 
                Rotterdam orchestras) makes a fairly 
                good case; of live accounts, Masur reminded 
                us how excellent he can be live when 
                in June 2000 he brought the New York 
                Philharmonic to the Barbican. 
              
              Following hard on the 
                heels of his disc of the same composer’s 
                Fifth and Sixth Symphonies (Arts 47668-2: 
                see 
                my review), Caetani on the enigmatically-priced 
                Arts label presents the Orchestra Sinfonica 
                di Milano Giuseppe Verdi in this work 
                that hovers on the verge of being a 
                masterpiece. The orchestra clearly gives 
                its all (climaxes are hardly shied away 
                from), yet the impression is that the 
                players clutch at the music, trying 
                to get inside it, without ever really 
                getting there. The opening is hardly 
                of determined gait; but if that is initially 
                unsettling, the brass and timpani ‘comments’ 
                to the theme are subdued in the extreme. 
                Ascending scales about a minute in closely 
                resemble practice exercises, and the 
                scene is well and truly set for an interpretation 
                well and truly lacking in depth. The 
                famous extended crescendo needs a conductor 
                with a very refined ear (and rehearsal 
                time in spades). Maybe neither was on 
                offer here, as the final composed-out 
                gesture falls flat on its face. The 
                sinuous, invidious curling brass lines 
                that slink around the repeated theme 
                around 13 minutes in have little of 
                the frighteningly menacing about them, 
                speaking instead with a rather inappropriate 
                Italianate literalism.
              
              If strings are acceptable 
                in the spiky second movement and wind 
                contributions are fine, the world of 
                the grotesque remains just out of grasp. 
                The third movement Adagio plods along 
                because of Caetani’s lack of long-range 
                hearing. So, despite a desolate flute 
                duet (around 5 minutes) and some good 
                pianissimi, the various parts 
                fail to gel. Again, the finale is ultimately 
                uninvolving (it is by this stage very 
                hard to believe that this is a live 
                performance – what frisson there was 
                has jumped ship!). It is perhaps inevitable, 
                therefore, that the ending does not 
                come off, despite the decibel level. 
                Everything about this reading seems 
                mediocre. The playing is often ‘quite’ 
                good, textures are ‘quite’ well defined, 
                but Caetani routinely fails to evoke 
                an exact mood and never, never draws 
                the listener in. 
              
              Colin Clarke