Accord has consolidated
a triptych of Chausson recordings from
1955-66. Two of them have achieved near
classic status and one will be less
well known but all three derive from
the catalogues of Mercury, Philips and
Decca.
The Symphony was accorded
a typically resplendent Mercury recording.
Taped in Detroit, successive remastering
has served it well – you may well have
caught it on Mercury 434 389-2MM when
it was coupled with vintage Lalo from
Paray and the Detroit. It had the misfortune
to emerge at a time when the slightly
earlier Monteux recording still held
sway and just before the emergence of
the 1962 Munch recording, against which
the Paray was judged and found wanting.
It’s true that the Munch has a degree
of incisive and dramatic interplay that
the Paray can’t quite summon up – but
then Paray’s intentions here seem different
from those of Munch. The turbulence
has a refined contour that marks it
out and that distinguishes it from more
explicitly volatile readings.
Paray certainly doesn’t
stint the repeated Wagnerianisms and
he elicits finely balanced and nuanced
playing from his orchestra. Listen for
instance to the well judged and clearly
well rehearsed wind line ascent from
around 9.00 in the first movement. The
strings have a good, light burnish to
their tone in the second movement with
Paray managing to impart tension to
their great melody from 4.30 as indeed
he does the strenuous Wagnerian brass
peroration that climaxes the movement.
The finale is judiciously paced, coalesced
structurally, coherent and convincing.
It doesn’t run riot – nor should it
– but its Tristan inheritance is alluded
to without being punishingly exposed
and the sense of apt orchestral weight
is palpable. Those interested in vintage
Paray will find in his reading great
understanding of the symphony’s structure
and refreshing directness. Those wanting
to explore the symphony will doubtless
want to start elsewhere, given the 1956
provenance.
Coupled with the symphony
is the Poème for violin
and orchestra. As with the Symphony
there is some residual tape hiss at
very high volume but it’s not at all
problematic unless you’re avidly listening
out for it. The soloist is Grumiaux
and that means class. His tone takes
on a myriad subtle shadings and colours
and the level of expressive depth is
notable. More even than this, and often
overlooked, is Grumiaux’s regal sense
of rhythm - one that gives such lift
to the music.
Probably the least
well known of the three recordings is
Poème de l’amour et de la
mer with Greek-French mezzo Irma
Kolassi. It’s the earliest of the recordings,
dating from 1955 but still sounds pretty
well though there’s a lack of real bloom
in the strings. Kolassi was a much under
appreciated mezzo, whose neglect in
the French repertoire is a real loss,
though Testament has restored a chanson
recital disc - and not before time.
There’s a melancholy expressive quality
to her singing here that is very touching,
the voice warm, splendidly even over
the range, and resisting a certain worrying
unsteadiness that could sometimes afflict
her. For me this performance was the
most unexpected coup.
These are well-selected
classic discs then. The notes are negligible
but the focus is on restoring the performances
in a cohesive piece of programming.
So far as I’m concerned this is mission
accomplished.
Jonathan Woolf