I bought Rostropovich’s Tchaikovsky cycle when it first appeared
on LPs - remember them? - and was rather disappointed. Having
become used over the years to the sheer – and often quite raw
- excitement brought to these scores by other Russian conductors
like Mravinsky and Svetlanov, I was struck most, I recall, by
a sense of sheer dullness. Adding, I considered, nothing
much to the cycles I already owned, the whole project seemed to
me rather pointless.
Expectations at the time were probably too high. After
all, even the greatest artistic insight and technical proficiency
need not necessarily mean that a solo instrumentalist will successfully
make the transition to inspiring and leading a full orchestra.
And while it is true that within three years of his expulsion
from the Soviet Union he was leading the National Symphony Orchestra
in Washington D.C., one might legitimately speculate whether
Rostropovich’s elevation at the height of the Cold War owed
as much to his celebrity status as a heroic political dissident
as to his real ability on the podium.
Maybe, though, a further thirty years of listening to
a wealth of other Tchaikovsky interpretations has made me a
little more kindly disposed towards these recordings. My preference
admittedly remains for the brassy raucousness of Soviet orchestras
- what, I wonder, has happened to the magnificently-named USSR
Radio and TV Large Symphony Orchestra? But I now concede immediately
that the London Philharmonic of the mid-1970s - still benefiting,
as they were, from the welcome stability provided by Bernard
Haitink’s appointment as principal conductor in 1967 - was in
excellent shape. Throughout these discs, all sections of the
orchestra can be heard producing some ravishingly beautiful
sounds. Moreover, the superb balance conjured up by Rostropovich
and the EMI engineers allows us to hear virtually every orchestral
texture – many of them largely obscured in other recordings
– with admirable clarity.
Continuing on a positive note for the time being, these
interpretations are consistently marked by another welcome characteristic
not always found in Tchaikovsky recordings – careful control
of dynamics. The wide range employed here gives far more variety
of colour to these interpretations, even though it sometimes
made for rather irritating home listening - it proved difficult
to find a level where I wasn’t turning up the volume for the
quietest passages and then having to turn it down again when
things got a little too noisy.
It is also worth noting that Rostropovich can be admirably
flexible in his approach. Listening to these recordings, I
lost count of the number of times I was forced to backtrack
and modify my own jottings as I went along. In Romeo and
Juliet, for instance, I first of all noted that the “love
theme” was presented in a somewhat cool and detached fashion,
but was later forced to qualify that judgement with the word
initially after it had later returned in full, pulsating
Romantic glory.
There
are, though, negative points too. Just a few months ago my colleague
Mark Sebastian Jordan gave this cycle a generally warm welcome
(see
review). He, too, was impressed both by the orchestra’s full,
rich sonority as well as by a certain sense that we could hear
a tyro conductor examining these scores afresh with the orchestra
in an organic creative process. I would certainly agree with
the first claim and can see how he could arrive at the second.
But in using the adjective broad no less than nine times
– plus one instance of broadness – Mark’s review also pinpointed
a consistent musical characteristic that is unlikely to appeal
to all listeners.
Many will, I think, see Rostropovich’s interpretations
as just a little too careful and risk-averse. There were certainly
times when I yearned for just a little less of the intense drama
and a little more sheer excitement. I have no idea
whether Rostropovich the cellist ever played under the baton
of Nikolai Golovanov – their dates make it a possibility – but,
if so, he certainly never absorbed any of the wild abandon that
characterised that particular Soviet conductor and others of
his ilk. It goes without saying that that are some passages
of great excitement here – but they do tend to sound rather
contrived and artificial as they emerge out of nowhere and often
disappear just as quickly.
Looking at each of the works here in turn, my notes on
the Symphony no.1 confirm many of the general points. After
an opening movement that feels rather cautious and restrained,
the adagio lacks, to my ear at least, the specified element
of cantabile. The scherzo makes a marked improvement,
with alert, incisive playing and the appropriate giocoso
swing, and the finale is impressive too, although the lugubre
element is plastered on rather too thickly for me.
The first disc concludes with Francesca da Rimini,
a work that allows the London Philharmonic to show its virtuosity.
Unfortunately Rostropovich fails to integrate its contrasting
sections as effectively as, say, Stokowski in his classic 1958
recording with the “Stadium Symphony Orchestra of New York”
(the New York Philharmonic in mufti), as well as failing to
conjure up anything like the stupendous emotional kick that
the older conductor delivers in spades.
The Symphony no.2 is a fairly routine performance, I’m
afraid. There is one of those instances of artificial whipping
up of excitement to which I referred earlier at about 6:59 in
the opening movement and, once again, it is the scherzo
that goes best of all.
Symphony no.3, filling the rest of disc 2, is somewhat
better, though the dramatic slowing down at about 11:50 in the
opening movement seems to be done merely for effect and the
way that the third movement proceeds in fits and starts sounds
like an attempt to make it appear to be of greater musical significance
than is really warranted.
The well-filled third disc opens with a convincing account
of Romeo and Juliet before moving on to the Symphony
no.4. Rostropovich imposes a dramatic accelerando towards
the end of its opening movement but, coming after a generally
dull lengthy exposition it failed to sound anything other than
a contrived effect. While the central movements again show
some improvement, the fuoco element of the finale’s allegro
con fuoco emerges as less a wild forest blaze than a dimly
glowing single-bar electric fire.
Tchaikovsky’s Manfred Symphony is, as I have noted
before, something of a calling card these days for aspiring
young conductors. In the 1970s, however, it was heard – and
recorded – rather less often. Once again, Rostropovich scores
well on the elements of declamation and drama, especially in
the opening movement, but the plodding rhythms of the finale’s
bacchanale suggest anything but the wanton abandon that
would seem much more appropriate.
In a similar fashion, the allegro con anima that
we ought to expect in the opening movement of the Symphony no.5
actually lacks much anima at all, at least to begin with,
and the last movement’s allegro vivace sounds, to my
own ears, pretty un-vivace. The middle movements are
more successful. The latter point is also true for the Symphony
no.6, though once again the outer movements are rather less
satisfying with a somewhat dull opening movement and a finale
where the strings are inappropriate lush in music that should
sound utterly bleak and despairing.
EMI have, in their wisdom, packaged this set so as to
offer all six numbered symphonies, plus Manfred, Romeo
and Juliet and Francesca da Rimini, on just
five CDs. Unfortunately, the inevitable result is that two
of the symphonies – nos. 3 and 6 – have to be split over separate
discs. Less explicable – but somewhat annoying – is the fact
that breaks between individual movements are frequently very
brief indeed.
All in all, it is hard to see this set as a first choice
in this highly competitive repertoire. Indeed, it seems, to
me at least, to be one of those unfortunate cases where the
overall achievement proves to be so inconsistent – and lacking
in any really discernable artistic direction – that, sadly,
it eventually emerges as significantly less than the
sum of its individual component parts.
Rob
Maynard
see also Review
by Mark Sebastian Jordan
London Philharmonic
Orchestra/Mstislav Rostropovich
