James Judd is undoubtedly
a very skilful conductor, obtaining
a disciplined response from the New
Zealand players with clear textures
and finely drawn melodic lines. In the
case of the Bridge disc by this combination
I was not able to subscribe wholeheartedly
to the enthusiasm expressed by many
of my colleagues, since I felt that
a certain static quality to the performances
showed the music in a less effective
light than those of a fairly similar
programme under Sir Charles Groves.
Unfortunately, this time too I have
to evoke another glorious name from
the past – that of Sir Adrian Boult.
Comparisons of their
versions of "Greensleeves"
are all the more instructive when their
approaches are basically similar, eschewing
the luscious, effusive manner of Barbirolli.
Boult’s 1959 Vienna recording (on Westminster)
was already a stark, Hardy-like meditation,
while his final thoughts (EMI, pub.1971)
distilled the essence of timeless simplicity.
Judd’s version adopts a similar stance,
yet one quickly becomes aware that more
is happening under the surface with
Boult – more sharply-etched movement
of the inner parts, for example. The
dividing-line between masterly understatement
and no statement at all is a thin one,
but I fear these two performances illustrate
it.
Though Judd’s overall
timing in the Tallis Fantasia is swifter
than Boult’s final version (16:30, EMI
pub.1976; the timing is not really a
question of old age since he took 16:14
in 1959), at the beginning Judd is slower,
a little fidgety compared with the inspired
simplicity with which Boult sets the
wheels turning. Judd’s more passionate
approach in the central part has its
attractions but Boult builds the piece
up more surely, ensuring that ONE climax
of all caps the others – the passage
marked "largamente" three
bars before letter S. Furthermore, I
feel the engineers, presumably with
the conductor’s approval, have exaggerated
in one respect. In a "note to the
conductor", Vaughan Williams specified
that the second orchestra "should,
if possible, be placed apart from the
First orchestra". But that doesn’t
mean they have to be carted off to Australia!
When I first heard this very distant
sound I thought it wonderfully magical,
but later on it seemed really too much
of a good thing; one’s ears strain to
hear harmony changes, and not just in
passages marked pianissimo. Much of
the contrast should come from the fact
that the second orchestra’s strings
are muted on many occasions, and I feel
that the Boult 1976 recording found
a more natural solution. Mind you, I’ve
heard this on normal CD equipment –
the effect might be out of this world
if with SACD you hear the second orchestra
drifting in from the back of the room.
I don’t have Boult
versions of the Norfolk Rhapsody or
In the Fen Country to hand and Judd
certainly shows an appreciation of Vaughan
Williams’s often Ravelian colouring
as well as plenty of atmosphere and
(later on) vitality. But he does not
succeed in convincing me that the undeniable
attractions of these pieces are not
too long-drawn for their own good; again,
there seems to be something static at
the heart of these performances.
But the real shock
comes with the Concerto Grosso, over
which Boult takes almost four minutes
more. The individual timings are as
follows:
CONCERTO GROSSO
|
I |
II |
III |
IV |
V |
Boult |
02:33 |
03:06 |
04:01 |
02:47 |
05:00 |
Judd |
01:57 |
02:36 |
03:34 |
01:51 |
03:42 |
The difference is the
more remarkable given that the timings
shown on the Naxos disc, which I have
reproduced above, are actually all wrong;
in every case Judd takes between 3 and
10 seconds less than the timing shown.
Judd interprets the
first movement, the Intrada, as a neo-Baroque
piece, with detached bowing and a lively
sense of forward movement. Boult notes
that it is also marked Largo and is
not only very broad but also has the
strings playing with a smooth, soaring
legato which to my ears is infinitely
more moving. Another notable difference
comes in the fourth movement. It is
entitled "Scherzo" and Judd
makes a very lively affair of it. But
Vaughan Williams also added (Allegro:
tempo di valse), something the Naxos
booklet doesn’t tell us, and, judged
as a waltz even Boult is pretty swift
while Judd gives no notion of the waltz
at all. In any case, Boult’s slower
pace is infinitely more "knowing"
than Judd’s brisk efficiency. And indeed,
throughout, quite apart from the matter
of tempi, it is Boult who makes the
music speak more eloquently. This is
rather important when this is a VW piece
without a great deal to say for itself
anyway.
So, as with Judd’s
Bridge disc, I fear that if you go for
this cheap and in many ways good alternative,
you are not going to hear the music
in its very finest light.
Christopher Howell