With the exception of their very fine disc, Pilgrimage to Santiago
(SDG701), all releases to date on the Monteverdi Choir’s Soli
Deo Gloria label have been taken from their 2000 Bach Cantata
Pilgrimage. Now, with this CD they launch recordings that relate
to another important project.
‘Brahms and his Antecedents’
is the title that Sir John Eliot Gardiner has given to a series
of concerts, some of which were given in autumn 2007, with the
remainder to take place this coming autumn (2008). In these
concerts Gardiner is playing the four Brahms symphonies and
Ein deutsches Requiem. However, the crucial thing is
that he plans to set these works in the context of other choral
works by Brahms, together with choral pieces both by composers
of earlier generations who Brahms especially admired. These
include Bach and Schütz but he also plans to represent composers
who were closer to Brahms’s own time and whose music was close
to his heart: Mendelssohn and Schumann.
Gardiner made a
revelatory recording of Ein deutsches Requiem as long
ago as 1990 (Philips 4321402) and so far as I’m aware it’s not
intended to duplicate that recording in this series but he will
offer a cycle of all four symphonies. In the Bach Cantata Pilgrimage
series what appears on the discs is, with very rare exceptions,
a replica of the concert programmes that were given during the
pilgrimage. I’m not entirely sure that this same principle is
being followed in this Brahms series because the concert that
I heard on BBC Radio 3 included the ‘Haydn’ Variations and music
by Schubert as a preface to the First symphony and not the pieces
included on this disc. However, there’s still a good deal of
logic to the programme that’s presented here and listeners may
find it as fascinating as I did to listen, at least on the first
occasion, straight through. In that spirit I’m going to comment
on each performance in the order in which it appears on the
CD.
Begräbnisgesang
(‘Funeral Anthem’) is something of a rarity. It sets a sixteenth-century
text by Michael Weisse for mixed chorus and an accompaniment
of twelve wind/brass instruments plus timpani. The gravity and
nobility of the music prefigures Ein deutsches Requiem
but the accompaniment, in particular, emphasises Brahms’s debt
to Schütz. The performance here is sonorous and dedicated, with
the singing notably incisive. I notice, incidentally, that there’s
a photograph in the booklet, presumably taken during one of
the concerts, from which it appears that the choir was positioned
right in front of Gardiner and in front of the instrumentalists.
I don’t know if this arrangement was used for all the choral
pieces – to judge from the limited number of instruments visible
in the photograph, all of which are wind or brass, I suspect
that this picture captures a moment during a performance of
Begräbnisgesang.
Next we hear an
unaccompanied choral work by Mendelssohn, his Mitten wir
im Leben sind (‘In the midst of life’). This is the
third of his collection Drei Kirchenmusiken and the words
are by Martin Luther. It makes a very apt juxtaposition with
Begräbnisgesang and just serves to highlight the musical
lineage, as Gardiner clearly intended. It’s a powerful piece
– a strong prayer – and Gardiner’s finely focused choir projects
it strongly. The piece ends with a hushed ‘Kyrie eleison’ and
here the singing is impressively controlled.
The final choral
contribution is the most familiar of the three works involving
the Monteverdi Choir. Schicksalslied (‘Song of Destiny’)
is a setting of words by Friedrich Hölderlin, from his Hyperion
(1797-99). Gardiner gives a marvellous performance. The
beautiful, spacious orchestral introduction, in warm, luminous
E flat major, is unfolded most sympathetically and when the
choir enters they sustain this elevated mood. The heavenly spaces,
evoked in the first two stanzas of Hölderlin’s words, are echoed
quite wonderfully in Brahms’s generous music and in this radiant
performance. The turbulent minor key stretches of the third
stanza are delivered dramatically by chorus and orchestra alike.
Then the opening material returns, this time in C major, on
the orchestra alone for a gentle, restful postlude. Here, as
elsewhere in the performance, one relishes the marvellous clarity
of texture that the ORR achieve on their period instruments.
The disc is completed
by a gripping account of Brahms’s First Symphony. It seems to
me that the most direct competition to Gardiner’s reading comes
from the recording made by Sir Charles Mackerras and the Scottish
Chamber Orchestra in 1997 (see review).
In the complete set of the Brahms symphonies from which that
performance was drawn Mackerras set out deliberately to replicate
the orchestral forces that Brahms would have encountered in
many provincial German towns and cities - orchestras such as
the Meiningen Court Orchestra, conducted by Fritz Steinbach
between 1886 and 1903. Mackerras used an orchestra of modern
instruments but, like Gardiner, he divided his violins left
and right – hooray! The forces used on the two recordings are
pretty similar although, interestingly, Gardiner has more string
players in “the middle” – the second violins and violas. Mackerras
has a string section comprising 10, 8, 6, 6, 4 while Gardiner
has 12, 10, 10, 7, 5. In terms of overall timings – and, indeed,
timings for individual movements – the two are virtually identical.
Gardiner’s performance lasts 44:09 and Mackerras takes 44:07
– note that both conductors play the first movement exposition
repeat, unlike a number of other conductors on disc. Just by
way of comparison, Semyon Bychkov, whose performance I much
admired
a little while ago, takes 49:33 and he also takes that repeat.
I only found Terry Barfoot’s review of the Mackerras version
after I’d completed my listening to Gardiner and I was interested
to read that he had reservations about the Telarc recorded sound.
I must say that I didn’t remark on the lack of body in the violins
in alt as much as he did but on more than one occasion
my listening notes record that I found the Telarc sound to be
rather soft grained and this seemed to compromise the bite and
strength of the Mackerras reading.
No such reservations
about the sound for Gardiner, however. The recording is full
and present, though never aggressive in any way, and the sound
of the orchestra seems to be powerfully and truthfully reported.
Right from the start of the first movement there’s evident drive
in Gardiner’s reading – the horns contribute superbly in these
pages and, indeed, will be a telling presence throughout. The
very first time I listened to the performance I wondered if
it was a bit unyielding, for it seemed that Gardiner was disinclined
to observe any of the “traditional” bits of rubato. However,
closer listening, aided by a score, reassured me that this is
not so. It’s a fresh reading but not an iconoclastic one and
Gardiner is properly inside Brahmsian style – though, characteristically,
he doesn’t slavishly follow tradition for the sake of it.
What one does notice
early on – for example at 14 bars into the main allegro of I
– is the use of portamento in the strings. This is well judged
and not done to excess and it adds a welcome touch of authentic
expression. As the first movement unfolds I was completely taken
up by the huge energy and purpose in the music making. This
is strong, sinewy Brahms and I think there are two key ingredients
here. One is Gardiner’s characteristic rhythmic acuity. The
other is the tremendous transparency to the orchestral sound.
There’s no trace of thickness and, as I’ve already indicated,
the horns regularly provide a tangibly exciting presence, as
does the timpanist. Sir Charles Mackerras is also taut and urgent
in this movement but, aided by a much more present recording,
Sir John provides even more bite, while never underplaying Brahms’s
lyrical side.
The second movement
brings more good use of portamento from the ORR strings. At
the start of the movement the division of the violins brings
important dividends – as it does in the Mackerras performance.
The woodwind playing was excellent in the first movement but
in this second movement there’s some really distinguished work
from the wind principals. Gardiner gives the music as much space
as it needs, but never to the detriment of momentum. In the
passage just before cue C (from about 3:19) there’s real urgency
in the playing, which I like very much. The last few minutes
of the movement (from cue E, 5:37) are lovely. Sir John obtains
some superb playing from his leader (Peter Hanson), first oboe
(Michael Niessemann) and principal horn (Anneke Scott), all
of whom play their respective radiant melodic lines wonderfully.
The third movement
is marked ‘Un poco allegretto e grazioso’ and the pace adopted
by Gardiner may strike some listeners as a little brisk, given
the qualification ‘un poco’. However, it seems to me that his
approach is buoyant and fresh. In Gardiner’s hands the trio
has a Schubertian lift – I was reminded quite forcibly of the
‘Great’ C major symphony – and the ‘Poco tranquillo’ ending
is quite beautifully managed. Mackerras, I find, is a little
less energetic in this movement and this was one of the instances
where I thought that the recorded sound slightly compromised
his reading.
Gardiner leads a
very dramatic reading of the introduction to the finale. When
the great horn melody arrives, played, I assume, on valveless
instruments, it really does sound as if the tune is echoing
across an alpine valley. The allegro, with its broad theme,
has space but also abundant energy and as this section develops
Gardiner propels the music along excitingly. Yet despite the
thrust of the reading there’s time for reflection too. So, for
example, the oboist is given ample time to phrase his important
solo just after cue F (6:31) eloquently. One short passage that
caught my ear occurs at 9:38, where there’s interplay between
the first and second violins. It lasts only a few bars but it’s
an excellent example of the dividends to be reaped by dividing
the fiddles. The music making in this movement frequently crackles
with electricity yet the excitement is always thoroughly musical
– there’s no playing to the gallery. As the end approaches the
Più Allegro (14:32) is tremendously vital. Moments later (14:50),
the brass chorale has grandeur but is not grandiose – Mackerras
is a touch more stately here – and then the headlong dash for
the end is exhilarating.
I suspect that this is an account of the
Brahms First that will divide opinion. Some will find it strong
meat but for my part that’s just what I like about it. This
is a fresh, vital reading of the symphony yet it seems to be
one that is fully respectful of tradition – or rather of the
best of Brahmsian tradition. I think it’s an important and envigorating
addition to the discography of this symphony. I certainly shan’t
discard the fine Mackerras performance, for it has much to offer,
but I think that Sir John wins this “battle of the knights”
on points.
I’ve already alluded
to the good sound quality. I don’t know how much these recordings
have been patched together from the performances at the two
separate venues but I wasn’t aware of any discrepancies in the
acoustic. Presentation is fully up to the usual high standards
of the house, the booklet featuring a most interesting conversation
between Sir John and Hugh Wood. This new Brahms symphony cycle
has been launched auspiciously and, judged by this first release,
seems likely to become an important and distinguished one as
it unfolds. The juxtaposition with other, highly relevant music
by Brahms and others adds a crucial additional dimension. I
look forward keenly to the remaining instalments, noting that
next on the release schedule is my own favourite, the Second
Symphony.
John Quinn
The Monteverdi
Choir* 
