James Levine was Chief
Conductor of the Munich Philharmonic
from 1999 to 2004. This CD is one of
a series of live concert recordings
issued by Oehms to commemorate his tenure.
Levine’s extremely long period as Music
Director of the Metropolitan Opera in
New York (since 1973), and his commitment
to that post, has restricted his concert
appearances, not least in the UK. One
feature of his work at the Met that
has attracted almost universal acclaim
has been his development of the orchestra
there. I don’t know how much development
he has needed, or been able, to do at
Munich but the performances on this
CD suggest that he established an excellent
rapport with the players who play for
him with consistent commitment and no
little skill throughout this concert.
It’s also worth saying, at the risk
of making an obvious point, that the
chances are that all three works were
new to the orchestra. If so, it was
a notable achievement on Levine’s part
to induce them to deliver this music
with evident flair.
To begin at the beginning,
Gershwin’s colourful overture is an
exhilarating piece, which the players
seem to enjoy. The rumba rhythms are
presented with the requisite swagger
and swing. The brass and percussion
sections have especially important roles
to play and they deliver the goods,
even though the brass don’t perhaps
have quite the same degree of punch
that one would encounter with, say,
the Cleveland or New York Philharmonic
orchestras.
I first got to know
Charles Ives’s Second Symphony through
Leonard Bernstein’s superb 1987 recording
for DG, also taken from live performances.
Bernstein was a great exponent of Ives
and gave the first performance of this
work in 1951. His extrovert, big-hearted
reading of this score is magnificently
played by the New York Philharmonic
in the DG recording and I always thought
it would take some matching. Levine’s
reading may yield on certain points
to Bernstein’s but I found it very convincing.
It’s a work of transition: Ives hasn’t
quite left behind the traditional European
influences of his teacher, Horatio Parker
and others, but the quirky, all-American
in him is starting to show through clearly.
I think it’s this creative tension between
two distinct sound worlds and musical
cultures that gives this work its special
fascination. In his interweaving into
this score of the native influences
that had been all round him since his
youth we truly glimpse for perhaps the
first time Ives, in Joseph Horowitz’s
memorable description, as "an American
Everyman who cherished the quotidian;
a vigorous democrat, at home with ordinary
people and things….. whose music is
equally prone to plain and extravagant
speech." (Classical Music in
America. A History of its Rise and Fall
(New York, 2005) p.233)
Levine allows the rich,
Brahmsian string material with which
the first movement opens to unfold very
nicely. It sounds natural and unselfconscious.
We’re conscious that here is a composer
who knew how to exploit string sonorities.
. The second movement has an appealing
freshness and is distinguished by some
lovely, characterful wind playing. Levine’s
handling of this whole movement seems
to me to be very successful. In particular
he knits together Ives’s trademark kaleidoscope
of melodic fragments convincingly.
The third movement
is given a lovely, restful start. The
Munich strings are rich, and the flutes
and quiet, golden horns gently join
them. Particularly ear-catching is the
beautiful cello solo (track 8, from
2’35"). There is nobility in this
movement and Levine certainly brings
that out. The short fourth movement,
again very well played, provides further
evidence of how well Ives could write
for strings. There are many passages
here that I suspect Brahms might have
enjoyed. The finale is another mélange
of melodic snippets, woven together
delightfully by Ives – and by Levine.
Particularly memorable is the gorgeously
warm and expansive horn solo over gentle
string figurations (track 10, 1’41"
to 3’32"). This passage, which
could have come straight out of a Dvořák
symphony, is superbly played here; it’s
just as ripe and nostalgic as in the
Bernstein account. The splendidly extrovert,
even raucous, end is huge fun and the
final dissonant “raspberry” chord provokes
a most enthusiastic reception from the
audience – and rightly so. This
is a quite splendid reading, which I
enjoyed every bit as much as the Bernstein
recording.
In between the Gershwin
and Ives pieces we hear John Harbison’s
Third Symphony. The piece has appeared
on disc already, in a performance, which
I’ve not heard, by the Albany Symphony
Orchestra under David Alan Miller (TROY
390). Harbison is a fine and sensitive
musician and I’ve enjoyed the music
of his that I’ve heard, though I must
admit that in my experience works like
his Violin Concerto do not give up their
secrets easily and demand some pretty
careful listening. For me that has also
proved to be the case with the Third
Symphony, which was commissioned by
the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra and
first performed by them under their
then-Chief Conductor, David Zinman in
1991
Oehms have missed a
couple of important tricks in their
presentation of this recording. In the
first place, the work, which plays continuously,
is divided into five sections or "moods."
The titles of these moods are listed
separately on the back of the jewel
case. It would have been of immeasurable
help if each mood had been separately
tracked but, sadly, this has not happened.
To make matters worse, the liner note,
translated from German, is wordy and
earnest but, frankly, doesn’t signpost
the music at all well. I recalled reading
a short but excellent essay on Harbison’s
Second Symphony by Michael Steinberg
(The Symphony (1995), pp 183-7.).
Sure enough, when I looked it up there
was a clear, succinct and helpful commentary
on the composer and on the work itself.
In fact, the essay is a model of its
kind as an example of how to introduce
new music to listeners. If only something
remotely comparable could have been
provided here! As it is, I’m afraid
the note is of little help to listeners,
most of whom will probably be coming
to the work for the first time.
As far as I can tell,
without access to a score the five "moods"
occur as follows:
Sconsolato – Più mosso 0’00""
Nostalgico 4’42"
Militante 9’33"
Appassionato 13’25"
Esuberante 19’43"
Harbison’s language
is late-twentieth century and reasonably
dissonant. However, it is most definitely
accessible and he can and does spin
a good melodic line. He is also a colourful
and resourceful orchestrator and the
rhythmic pulse is always strong. I like
the fact that all his music that I’ve
heard to date seems to be going somewhere,
to be purposeful. It’s also economical;
there’s no mere note spinning. All these
attributes are on display in the Third
Symphony.
The symphony begins
in a mood of introspection. (The liner
note translates the title of the first
mood as "disheartened".) The
music begins quietly but more jagged,
forceful ideas soon intervene. The gentle
woodwind idea that introduces the second
mood seemed almost Copland-esque to
me. The third mood is an impressive
and vigorous section with prominent
roles for the xylophone and the marimba.
Indeed, percussion instruments are well
to the fore hereabouts and I wonder
if the array of percussion required
prompted the choice of the Gershwin
overture to open the programme? In the
Appassionato section the music is restless
and powerful, even when the dynamics
are quiet. This part of the work is
scored with particular imagination.
Eventually a big climax, which builds
quite naturally, is achieved around
18’00". The tempo picks up for
the final section, which is extrovert
and powerful. I associate the word "exuberance"
with joyfulness and I’m not quite sure
that I’d describe this music as "joyful"
– though I hasten to add that’s not
a criticism; maybe I’ve missed something
in the music up to now, or perhaps I’ve
just drawn my definition of "exuberance"
too narrowly. No matter, it’s an impressive
end to an impressive work. The applause
that the performance receives sounds
polite rather than enthusiastic and
I would have thought that both the music
and the performance deserved rather
better.
I feel that I haven’t
really described this symphony at all
adequately. In my defence I’d say again
that Harbison’s music, though far from
forbidding, needs time to make its full
impact. (Perhaps I’m not alone in this;
perhaps that accounts for the audience’s
muted response?) I am sure, however,
that it’s a significant score and it’s
one that I shall certainly want to return
to in order to appreciate it more fully.
So far as I’m able to judge on relatively
limited acquaintance with the music,
Levine and his players do the work proud.
This is a very rewarding
disc. It’s also an important collection
of American music. I recall that when
James Levine was named as Ozawa’s successor
at the Boston Symphony some critics
expressed disappointment, perceiving
him as a rather dull choice. On the
evidence of this CD I’d say Boston might
have made rather a shrewd selection.
It only remains to be added that the
performances are presented in very good,
truthful sound. I enjoyed this disc
very much and I strongly recommend it.
John Quinn
Munich Philharmonic Orchestra/James Levine 
