Whilst not amongst the top rank, L’Orchestre de la Suisse Romande 
                under its principal conductor, Ernest Ansermet, gained an enviable 
                reputation for its acclaimed recordings - notably of the music 
                of Debussy and Ravel. Ansermet was respected for the clarity and 
                transparency of his readings and for his meticulous attention 
                to composers’ score markings.  
              
A 
                  number of composer’s works including Eine Faust-Symphonie 
                  were inspired by the Goethe’s diabolical creation, notably 
                  Berlioz – and, later, Gounod. Indeed Liszt had already begun 
                  work on a piece based on the Faust legend in the 1840s but it 
                  remained tentative until he heard Berlioz’s Damnation of 
                  Faust - itself dedicated to Liszt - in Weimar. Liszt then 
                  began work in earnest basing his symphony on three character 
                  sketches of the story’s three protagonists: Faust, Gretchen 
                  (Marguerite in some versions) and Mephistopheles with a finale 
                  tacked on. Really this is less a symphony than a collection 
                  of symphonic poems, not far removed from Les Préludes 
                  and Mazeppa. The original version was first performed 
                  in the presence of both Berlioz and Wagner. Criticism prompted 
                  him to add trumpets, trombones and percussion as well as a final 
                  chorus based on the Chorus Mysticus in the finale of 
                  Part II of Goethe’s play. The premiere of this revised version 
                  took place in 1861 conducted by Liszt himself. It is dedicated 
                  to Berlioz. Liszt added another 16 bars to the slow movement 
                  in 1880. 
                
The 
                  27-minute opening movement Faust is a multi-dimensional 
                  character study. No less than five main themes (or leitmotifs) 
                  are stated, each assigned to different character traits. All 
                  these themes are constantly transformed to indicate Faust in 
                  various contexts and emotional states. A slow introduction indicates 
                  his mystical side, the second with an oboe solo represents his 
                  emotional state, whether passionate, amorous or melancholy. 
                  A turbulent third theme is heard on strings, then on woodwinds 
                  to depict Faust as lover as the fourth theme. Finally a quasi-noble, 
                  assertive theme in E flat is heard on brass to indicate Faust 
                  as man-of-action. Ansermet brings excitement and tenderness 
                  in full measure to this intense music. 
                
Gretchen, 
                  as one might expect elicits a far more tender approach and as 
                  Greg Keane remarks in his erudite notes for this release, 
                  the movement epitomizes Liszt’s idealized concept of womanhood. 
                  As such the scoring is light and intimate, quite chamber music-like 
                  in its sonority - particularly at around 11:00. 
                  Again quoting Keane, “Gretchen herself is represented by a duet 
                  between oboe and viola, suggesting both beguiling innocence 
                  and trepidation in the face of temptation.” Faust’s entrance 
                  is indicated by brass and low tremolando strings plus 
                  Faust’s amorous oboe theme from the first movement, that interrupts 
                  her gentle reveries. She is clearly urged towards passion as 
                  her second theme heard on strings and marked dolce amoroso 
                  indicates. Mephistopheles brings out all of Liszt’s 
                  trade-mark diabolical musical figures. The music is quicksilver, 
                  fast-moving and filled with sardonic wit – well they always 
                  said the Devil has the best tunes. Again quoting Keane, “Mephistopheles 
                  is seen as the negation of all humanity, a purely destructive 
                  force and generates no new music of his own … Gretchen’s themes 
                  are heard intact, unsullied by Mephistopheles whereas Faust’s 
                  various themes are fragmented, parodied and distorted continually 
                  in a travesty of the first movement.” Liszt introduces into 
                  his coda a choir and tenor solo - Krenn nicely tender and sincere 
                  in his supplication - to achieve the celestial effect of an 
                  apotheosis as the soul of Gretchen/Marguerite is saved from 
                  damnation. 
                
Ansermet’s 
                  orchestra deliver a polished and tremendously thrilling performance 
                  of Liszt’s orchestral masterpiece. 
                
Two Episodes 
                  from Lenau’s Faust. These two atmospheric works were inspired by the Austrian poet Lenau’s 
                  version of the Faust legend. Lenau was the pseudonym of Nikolaus 
                  Franz Niembsch another melancholy romantic. In this version 
                  Faust and Mephistopheles interrupt a wedding feast at an inn. 
                  Faust dances with the bride, seduces her and carries her off 
                  into the woods to spend her wedding night in wild debauchery. 
                  At the end, they are damned for eternity for their immorality. 
                  Above the ending, Liszt quotes Lenau’s last line – “and they 
                  drowned in an ocean of their lust”. Dance at the Village Inn (Mephisto Waltz No. 1) 
                  is much the better known of the two episodes. It has 
                  been recorded a number of times notably by Leopold Stokowski 
                  on a BBC mono issue - BBCL 4059-2 and by Fritz Reiner with the 
                  Chicago Symphony Orchestra on RCA. Ansermet offers a thrilling, 
                  characterful alternative that, if it isn’t quite as tense or 
                  as sexy as Reiner’s reading, it nevertheless offers a greater 
                  depth of malignance and mordant, satanic wit. Nocturnal 
                  Procession is much less well-known. It is a beautiful 
                  nocturnal pastoral evocation with extraordinarily beautiful 
                  writing for strings and woodwinds. One can imagine the flight 
                  to the woods by the couple to the sounds of nature. It is intense 
                  and passionate too with a hint of supernatural menace and church 
                  bells. A note of piety serves as a contrast and perhaps as a 
                  warning. Nocturnal Procession makes demands of orchestral 
                  virtuosity to which OSR rises with dedication and aplomb.
                
Hunnenschlacht (Battle of the Huns). This rarely performed Liszt symphonic 
                  poem was inspired by a painting by Wilhelm von Kaulbach of a 
                  battle between the Romans and the Visigoths in 451AD. Of the 
                  opening allegro tempestuoso Liszt demanded that 
                  “the entire colour should be kept dark and all instruments must 
                  sound like ghosts”. The whole work bears all the familiar Liszt 
                  fingerprints: urgent pacing, tempestuous excitement, staccato 
                  blasts and hammerings, noble, patriotic fanfares and evocations 
                  of battlefield chaos. Amongst all the bombast, a solo organ 
                  and mournful strings, sounds an elegiac tone. The piece ends 
                  in a glorious hymn of victory with brass shouting and cymbals 
                  clashing. A pattern for 1812? 
                
It 
                  is a quirky fact that Alberic Magnard is one of those composers 
                  best remembered for the circumstances of his death – he died, 
                  shot, defending his country house north of Paris 
                  against advancing Germans in 1914. Magnard was born into a distinguished 
                  literary family, his father became editor of Le Figaro. He 
                  studied at the Paris Conservatoire and later transferred to 
                  the Schola Cantorum where he was influenced by César Franck 
                  and Vincent D’Indy. He later taught counterpoint there himself. 
                
To 
                  his credit, Ansermet chose to record Magnard’s Third Symphony 
                  at a time when out-of-the-way scores were practically ignored. 
                  In fact it was, for many years, the only recording of any work 
                  by Magnard. This is a shame because this Symphony is very approachable 
                  and has memorable, melodious material. Ansermet, renowned for 
                  his meticulous attention to the detail of scores, delivers a 
                  commanding performance of clarity and eloquence. The opening 
                  movement is curiously marked, ‘Introduction and Overture - Modéré’. 
                  It opens mystically with a woodwind chorale and tremolando strings 
                  leading to a lovely hymn-like melody. The main allegro section 
                  of this movement substantiates the description of Magnard as 
                  the ‘French Bruckner’. The infectious jollity of the second 
                  movement, marked Danses – Très vif is irresistible. It 
                  has an underlying musette-like drone and an unassuming rustic 
                  charm. Dvořák’s Slavonic Dances come to mind as well as 
                  something of Bizet’s L’Arlésienne. The slow movement 
                  Pastorale, is no idyll; its cor anglais reverie 
                  is interrupted by the gruff foreboding of the double-bass. The 
                  long-arched string tune - Bruckner-like again - that follows 
                  is also beset by storminess and the movement ends quite unsettlingly. 
                  The finale opens with a carillon and recaps material from the 
                  preceding movements. It ends in life-affirming, triumphal mood. 
                
A 
                  vivid, graphic Faust Symphony plus one of the very few 
                  recordings of the lovely Magnard Third Symphony make this a 
                  bargain not to be missed.
                
              
By 
                the way: Romande is the French-speaking region of Switzerland, centred around Geneva where the orchestra is based.
                
                Ian Lace