Respighi’s so-called
Roman trilogy – Pini di Roma, Fontane di Roma and Feste
Romane – are probably his best known and most played
works; deservedly so, for they are brilliant orchestral showpieces,
full of vigour and hot-blooded Mediterranean sentiment. Yet
still so many of the composer’s other works don’t get an outing,
so full marks to Naxos for their ongoing Respighi survey.
Recordings of Church
Windows and Brazilian Impressions aren’t that plentiful
either, but Geoffrey Simon and the Philharmonia taped spectacular
accounts of these two works for Chandos back in 1984 (CHAN 8317).
A quarter century later these are still remarkable performances,
far superior to Ashkenazy’s recent Exton SACD in terms of interpretation
and sound.
Church Windows
began life as Tre preludi sopra melodie gregoriane (‘Three
Piano Preludes on Gregorian Melodies’) published in 1922. Three
years later Respighi decided to orchestrate them and add a fourth
to make a symphonic suite. Curiously the descriptive ‘programme’
was only added afterwards, with the help of the composer’s friend
Claudio Guastalla. The first movement – The Flight into Egypt
– could have been lifted from the Pines of Rome, so unmistakable
is Respighi’s musical fingerprint. There really is a sense of
a lonely caravan making its way slowly across a barren landscape
– a Middle Eastern Bydlo, perhaps – and the Buffalonians
essay the gentle opening with commendable clarity and grace.
That said, as the movement progresses one might wish for rather
more ardour in those surging tunes.
Make no mistake
the American band play seductively enough and they are well
recorded to boot, but Simon adds impetus and electricity to
the music without sacrificing detail or polish. The bite of
the Philharmonia strings is particularly invigorating compared
with the rather too elegant, moulded phrasing of the Buffalonians,
although the latter do play the serene final bars with great
feeling.
Nothing quiet about
the heavenly battle that erupts in St Michael the Archangel,
with its blazing brass and thundering organ. The Naxos sound
is marvellously weighty here – not always the case with recordings
from this source – and the players really do let their hair
down for once. The quieter horns and arpeggiated strings are
well caught, while at the other extreme Satan’s banishment from
Heaven – a triple forte tam-tam crash – produces a real frisson
of excitement. By contrast the Philharmonia bring a febrile
quality to the music, but Simon manages to control the temperature
and keep it all from boiling over into bombast. That said, honours
seem more evenly divided this time round, both bands playing
with great precision and gusto.
The two performances
are also well matched in the quieter, more contemplative music
of The Matins of St Clare. If anything the Americans
have the edge in terms of beauty and elegance of phrasing (just
listen to that plainchant melody at 2:40, embellished by the
harps). Very atmospheric indeed.
Equally impressive
is the sheer weight and breadth of sound that Falletta coaxes
from her orchestra in St Gregory the Great. There is
pontifical grandeur aplenty and the lower strings in particular
underpin the solemn proceedings with real authority. Arguably
the Philharmonia maintain a greater sense of clarity and focus
in the build up to the ecstatic ‘Alleluias’ of the finale, but
their trans-Atlantic rivals are every bit as thrilling when
it comes to that great climax.
Brazilian Impressions
is not as high octane as Church Windows but it does boast
some delightful music. Respighi and his wife embarked on a recital
tour of Brazil in 1927 and the composer promised to provide
a ‘Brazilian suite’ for their return visit in 1928. Pressure
of work meant he could only produce three movements but the
result is surprisingly genial music that understates rather
than overplays the South American connection. This is particularly
true of the opening nocturne, Tropical Night, which unfolds
with Debussian languor. The Buffalo band really rise to the
occasion here, with elegant and atmospheric playing, the music
delectably sprung.
And while Simon
and the Philharmonia generally articulate rhythms more clearly
Falletta manages to make Butantan, a musical depiction
of a Brazilian reptile farm, sound wonderfully sinuous. True,
the British players come even closer to the composer’s marking
of strisciante (‘slitheringly’) but to be honest there’s
not much to separate the two performances. That said, the more
flexible Philharmonia do have the edge in Song and Dance,
where they shape and project rhythms with greater felicity.
It’s pretty much
even at this point but then the Naxos recording pulls ahead
with a refreshing performance of the orchestral suite Rossiniana.
Transcribed from Rossini’s Les Riens (‘Trifles’), this
four-movement work is lighter on its feet than either of the
other pieces on the disc. Capri e Taormina combines the
siciliana and barcarola to great effect, with
some marvellous pizzicato playing from the strings and well-blended
contributions from the brass. It is sunny music, full of warmth
and local colour, yet it retains a certain grace and elegance
throughout.
By contrast the
gong-tormented Lamento is altogether darker, more brooding,
with some characterful playing from the woodwinds. The martial
bass drum is superbly dramatic, as is the sneering brass, but
it is Falletta’s instinctive feel for the ebb and flow of this
movement that really stands out here.
The third movement,
a stately Intermezzo, has a surprisingly jaunty little
melody coursing through it, while in the Tarantella –
not as abandoned as one might expect – the orchestra really
sound as if they are enjoying themselves, with spirited playing
from all quarters. As always, one is astonished by Respighi’s
gift for instrumental colour but it’s Falletta who is most deserving
of praise here, maintaining a firm grip on the music while still
allowing it to whirl and dance.
This collection
doesn’t displace the Simon/Philharmonia in my affections but
it comes close, very close. What will probably tip the balance
for most buyers is the budget price and the ‘extras’ in the
form of Rossiniana. So, a worthy addition to the Naxos
Respighi project but, most important, an impressive and entertaining
disc as well.
Dan Morgan