It was pleasant surprise
to be introduced to a new recording
of Holst’s Savitri, and
delightful to see some Vaughan Williams
on the same CD! Completely unfamiliar
names were a further surprise, but did
not necessarily bode badly – after all,
the more people who promote this music,
the better! In actual fact, however,
my slight apprehension at discovering
that the performers were the completely
unknown Manhattan School of Music Chamber
Sinfonia and Opera Theater was borne
out. Glen Barton Cortese – principal
conductor of the aforementioned Sinfonia
(about which there was no further information
in the sleeve-notes) – conducts, and
in Savitri Jessica Miller plays
Savitri, Kyu Won Han is Death and Simon
O’Neill is Satyavan in a rendition that
could most positively be described as
an admirable attempt.
It is admittedly a
well-nigh impossible task to compete
successfully with the two brilliant
recordings of that masterpiece that
are currently available – the 1983 Hyperion
recording under Richard Hickox and the
1965 Imogen Holst recording. However,
in comparison this version, recorded
in America in 2000, is regrettably dismal.
Death’s opening proclamation – perhaps
the most thrilling, terrifying and intense
opening to any opera – is not electrifying,
as Stephen Varcoe makes it in the Hyperion
recording. Rather it is rough, hurried
and sounds somehow vaguely imprecise.
Kyu Won Han – a Korean baritone – has
a fairly harsh voice; his words are
not particularly clear and have a feeling
of inaccuracy about them. He lacks the
solemnity and the sombre power that
is necessary for Death. Whereas Varcoe’s
Death - esoteric-sounding, terrifically
powerful and with beautifully precise
enunciation - sends shivers down one’s
spine, Kyu Won Han creates tension in
the listener in case he wobbles off
the note. He does not make use of the
profound dramatic pauses that both Varcoe
and Hemsley (1965 recording) employ.
He does not lay deep, compelling emphasis
on the word "Death" in the
opening bars of the piece as they do,
and when talking later with Savitri,
he sounds almost mechanical and has
no presence whatsoever. Varcoe’s deep,
tuneful, vibrant Death can change from
being abstruse, mystical and foreboding
to serene and tranquil – almost quiet
towards the end of the work. This is
a transformation that Kyu Won Han cannot
effect; his Death is very consistent
and unvarying.
Jessica Miller is similarly
disappointing – her voice is too breathy
and light, and lacks the maturity and
ardour of both Baker (1965) and Palmer
(1983). Like Death, she also rushes
her lines (this recording is 5 or 6
minutes faster than the other two),
and a recognisable American accent does
come through. Again, important words
are not given enough urgency or weight,
nor is she moving in the deeply romantic
bits. Palmer is a bit brighter than
Baker’s grave and deep (almost subdued)
but very effectively frightened Savitri.
Although Palmer perhaps does not convey
completely the tremendous fear that
is due to one facing an apparition of
Death, yet she does bring out infinite
tenderness when calling Satyavan’s name.
Miller, throughout the recording, does
not imply any great affection – for
example, in the poignant and impassioned
"I am with thee, / My arms are
round thee; Thy thoughts are mine /
My spirit dwells with thee" and
"Like to a babe in his mother’s
robe / Thou are enshrouded in my love",
Miller gives little hint of emotion,
but hurries through automatically. On
a more positive note, however, Miller
does reflect the fear of Savitri in
the opening section fairly well, and
she has a powerful voice, so that the
lines "Ah! Death, the just one
/ Whose word ruleth all / Grant me a
boon" are among her best. She is
perhaps slightly too powerful: Palmer’s
"Welcome Lord! / Thou are called
the Just One" is evocatively peaceful
and still, whereas Miller does not create
any mood of calmness.
Satyavan, Simon O’Neill,
is a New Zealand tenor, and again is
a far cry from Tear (1965) and Langridge
(1983). Whereas Tear sounds young and
joyful, strong and virile, and Langridge’s
Satyavan, whilst heavier and possibly
not as attractive as Tear’s, is still
excellent, Simon O’Neill is whining
and nasal, with no real feeling. When
Langridge especially is most touching
in his loving "But thou are pale
and trembling: / What ails thee?",
O’Neill puts no passion into that significant
line at all. Although his words are
fairly clear, he, too, seems to have
picked up something of an accent, elongating
and nasalizing vowels. In addition he
has a habit, which becomes increasingly
infuriating, of aspirating the "wh"
in words such as "who" and
"what" – fairly prevalent
words in this libretto! His voice also
has a slightly harsh and rough, almost
crass quality to it. He would perhaps
be better suited to less sensitive roles,
or to ones requiring a bigger voice
– Italian opera, maybe, rather than
the delicate balance of an English chamber
opera. He reflects Miller and Kyu Won
Han in having little changes in emotional
intensity, mood or power throughout
the piece.
The orchestra and chorus,
on the other hand, play quite well and
produce a pleasing tone, although the
balance between chorus / orchestra and
soloists could be adjusted to allow
less conflict between the two. Whereas
in the Hyperion recording in particular,
the orchestra and chorus unobtrusively
support the singers, in this recording
they are too loud and blatant. The Hyperion
and Decca recordings present a unified
sound as the soloists, chorus and orchestra
come together smoothly and discreetly.
Here they almost battle and therefore
do not do justice to the score. But
the fact that I could listen to this
recording dry-eyed (a first for me listening
to any recording / performance of Savitri!)
is condemnation in itself.
Dismayed by the Savitri,
the Vaughan Williams came as
quite a relief – this is a fairly accomplished
and gratifying performance of The
Lark Ascending. Korean violinist
Ik-Hwan Bae produces an agreeable sound,
with well-articulated trills and far
more feeling and emotion than all the
soloists put together managed to muster
for the Holst. Although perhaps not
as evocative as one would have liked,
and he does not "soar" quite
enough for my liking, Ik-Hwan Bae is
still well-poised, accurate and reasonably
sensitive with a lyrical air. There
is a far better balance between orchestra
and soloist than in the Holst, and together
they produce a full and fairly rich
sound, although both soloist and orchestra
could have made more effective use of
changes in dynamics. Slightly on the
fast side at 14.55, on the whole, it
is a pleasingly lilting and poetic endeavour.
Britten’s Sinfonietta
op. 1 completes the disc. As with
all the pieces on this CD, this was
taken at swifter pace than average.
The Manhattan Chamber Sinfonia play
this inventive and concise piece well.
They bring out both its charm and energy
effectively, and perform it dynamically
and with vivacious rhythmic drive. The
lively opening is persuasively portrayed
in a vibrant rendition, and the more
romantic, lush second movement (strangely
enough entitled "Variations"
on this CD, instead of its usual Andante
Lento) is played tenderly and with
feeling. This movement is not as smooth
or gentle as it could be, and rather
lacks the haunting quality of some of
the other recordings of this piece (the
1997 Britten Sinfonia/Daniel Harding
one, for instance), yet the pastoral
mood is well conveyed. The dark and
almost dim sound of the players suits
the Tarantella, and this almost
dulled tone does not seem to detract
from the piece. The lyrical but powerful
Sinfonietta is accurately played
throughout, with emotion and understanding,
yet I still feel that it would have
benefited from a bit more fire breathed
into it.
The appearance of the
disc itself reflects the slightly amateur
feel of the performances on it – with
adequate and comprehensible – if not
particularly erudite or comprehensive
– sleeve-notes, and a just slightly
homespun looking cover/back. We are
spoilt in the wonderful wealth of Chandos
and Hyperion recordings of English music.
One wonders why the Manhattan School
of Music chose to record these particular
pieces, which they perform without any
glowing merit – competently enough in
the case of the Vaughan Williams and
Britten but rather disappointingly so
for the Holst. Why did they not choose
less demanding, or less well-known and
already brilliantly recorded pieces
instead?
Em Marshall