Once past the soloist's unvaried thumping at the start - and what was
that all about? - the first-rate Totentanz is
the best thing on this program. In this work, Liszt alters his
customary harmonic syntax: instead of conventionally stringing
together diminished seventh chords to evoke harmonic rootlessness,
the composer uses linear motion in the manner of Gabriel Fauré
to form both diatonic and chromatic seventh chords, generating
in the process a subtler harmonic tension. The result, it must
be said, sounds nothing like Fauré. Oleg Marshev, whose technical
strength lies in combining rippling fluency with tonal weight,
finds ways to shape and color these more complex progressions,
even when they're divided between the hands in coruscating,
cadenza-like chords. With solid, responsive, orchestral support,
the resulting performance is unusually effective, nuanced in
expression where most others take their ponderous cue from the
Dies Irae motif.
The Hungarian Fantasy, dominated by sturdy, folk-like chordal
progressions, lies at the opposite end of the harmonic spectrum.
Accordingly, Marshev projects the tunes boldly and straightforwardly,
without letting his pingy articulation of individual notes impede
the music's long, arching lines. The flaccid trumpet fanfares
beginning at 3:48 - rhythmically secure, accurately tuned, but utterly devoid of impulse
- constitute the only mild flaw.
The two concertos receive perfectly good performances in which none
of the pieces fall into place as neatly. In the First Concerto,
the orchestral contribution is frequently thoughtful and beautiful,
but suffers from excessive politeness at key moments. The strings'
opening unison is clean but reined-in; even the trombone outburst
in the coda-equivalent - at 0:28 of track 4 - sounds uncommonly
well-mannered. I'd not, offhand, thought of Liszt as particularly
well-served by restraint. Marshev offers striking insights and
some technical accomplishment - the arpeggios at the end of
the "first movement" ripple beguilingly; the Quasi
adagio has a nice impulsive rubato. But the high trills
sound glassy, as do the strained melodic octaves in that Quasi
adagio, which don't expand into the climax. Octaves in general
seem to be a sticking point for the soloist here: the big, deep
ones in track 3, while full-bodied, are careful - though a similar
passage beginning at 7:08
in Totentanz is strong and assured.
The Second Concerto is rather better, not least because of gorgeous
contributions from the woodwind and cello principals - does
any other standard concerto offers the orchestral soloists such
expressive scope? The brass choir registers nicely in the Allegro
agitato assai, though the lead trumpet again sounds flatly
matter-of-fact playing on his own. Marshev's playing is crisply
defined and articulate, as elsewhere, yet he allows some phrases
- his offhand answer to the Allegro moderato's melting
cello solo, for example - to go for nothing. His balletic lightness
in the finale, however, offers some compensation.
Standard-rep recommendations are difficult in the digital age: rarely
will all the performances on a 70-minutes disc be of sufficiently
high quality to equal or surpass all distinguished predecessors
- Richter's magisterial Second Concerto (Philips), for example,
has not lately been seriously challenged, here or elsewhere. I
did enjoy the Danacord program overall, and if the shorter pieces
are your primary interest, you'll find much to savor here. Individual
sections are separately tracked in the concertos, by the way.
Stephen Francis Vasta
see also Review
by Paul Serotsky
