Volume
29 of Naxos’s series of Haydn symphonies. Those who have
made it this far will have decided for themselves whether
the completist’s goal is worth achieving. The Naxos set has
had its ups and downs: a project of this scale involving
different orchestras and conductors will inevitably have
its own strengths and weaknesses. With affordable price and
availability as individual purchases on their side they will
be a respectable choice for anyone – especially those who
like a collection which expands organically, rather than
with those big and tempting Brilliant bricks. I have a colleague
at work who occasionally puts on some Haydn from this series,
and I can never say I’ve found my ear offended by anything
nasty, unless her computer crashes or an orchestral student
phones in to say they’ve booked a holiday during project
week.
The
earliest of Haydn’s symphonies date from 1759 or just before,
and would have occurred during his first official appointment,
as Kapellmeister to a Bohemian nobleman, Count von Morzin.
Morzin kept his own band at his castle in Lukavec, and with
evidence from some surviving manuscript parts it can be shown
that there were two desks of first and second violins, along
with the usual pairs of oboes and horns, bass and continuo.
Although
Haydn is described as the ‘father of the symphony’, the classical
three movement form to be found in symphonies 1, 2, and 4
had already been well established in the Italianate concertos
of Torelli and Vivaldi. Symphonies 3 and 5 have four movements,
a pattern known in examples from the first half of the eighteenth
century. There is nothing exploratory or experimental sounding
about these works, which brim over with bouncy energy and
enthusiasm. Haydn seems to be relishing having his own orchestra
to play with, and judging by the technical virtuosity in
the upper string parts, they must have been a skilled and
professional bunch of musicians.
If
you have an idle moment at the listening booth, try track
8 (Symphony No.3, Andante moderato) for some typical
Haydn wit and a few scrunchily dissonant resolutions. Track
12 (Symphony No.4, Andante) has a remarkable, secretively
creeping opening accompaniment in the lower strings, and
track 17 (Symphony No.5, Finale: Presto) has some
nice skyrocket effects. Particularly noticeable in the slow
movements is the wonderful harpsichord playing of Irina Zahharenkova,
which is if anything a little too wonderful. Going back to
the Andante second movement of Symphony No.1, the
simple, almost naïve textures of the string-only orchestral
writing are over-filled with elaborate filigrees of harpsichord
improvisation. The harpsichord is recorded too close for
comfort on this disc, turning what should be a continuo which
melts into the orchestral textures into a peskily promiscuous
soloist, constantly flexing her plucking quills inside your
left speaker. In the Andante of Symphony No.2 (track 5) she
seems to have found a more appropriate stop setting, and
the balance is much better: why this couldn’t have been done
in other movements is a mystery. There are louder orchestral
moments when Irina is thankfully drowned, but even they are
richly strewn with a clattering glare which has your ears
wishing that aural Polaroid filters had been invented. Don’t
get me wrong, her playing is rhythmic, inventive and skilful,
it’s just that she needs turning down, and occasionally off.
Gallois’s
Sinfonia Finlandia are excellent in this repertoire, and
the whole set of performances exude the fresh and youthful
vigour of these works with tight tempi, and accurate and
dynamic playing. On the whole then, a recommendation, especially
if you like your harpsichord ‘cooking with gas.’
Dominy Clements
see also reviews by Gary
Higginson, Christopher
Howell and Kevin Sutton
Sinfonia Finlandia/Patrick Gallois 
