This
is one of the latest releases in EMI’s
20th Century
Classics series (see reviews of
Ravel,
Stravinsky and
Schoenberg).
It makes a very successful survey of Respighi’s “greatest
hits” and it’s a great place to start if you’re getting
to know the composer for the first time.
Muti’s
Philadelphia recording of the Roman Trilogy has been for
many - including me - the top choice for this coupling
since it was released in 1985. It is most welcome to have
it in this bargain compilation sounding as stunning as
ever. The HMV sound engineers worked wonders with this
music when they recorded it, capturing every facet of Respighi’s
glittering orchestration with a brilliance that has seldom
been equalled. Just listen to the thunder of the legionaries
on the Appian Way (CD1, track 5): with a decent sound system
your floor will shake, something very important to the
composer! The pristine production values extend to every
aspect of these works: from the sparkling winds and percussion
outside the Villa Borghese (track 2) to the bells of the
Jubilee Festival (track 11). Everything is crystal clear,
whether listening through speakers or (especially) through
headphones, and this is exactly what you need for such
orchestration, of which the composer was justly proud.
All of this would count for little were it not for the
outstanding quality of the playing. The Philadelphia Orchestra
clearly had a whale of a time as they were making this
record: Mediterranean warmth oozes from nearly every bar.
The strings whizz and fizz in the opening movement of
Pines,
making the transition to the darkness of the catacombs
all the more startling. Even there the trumpet solo sings
out beautifully before being subsumed into the climactic
chant. The clarinettist at the Janiculum plays with sumptuous
richness, placed at just the right distance from the microphone
- tasteful engineering again - while the recorded birdsong
is subtle and mercifully brief! It is wonderful to have
a red-blooded Italian at the helm. Muti launches himself
into the energy of these works, especially
Feste Romane which
he recognises as being ridiculously vulgar, but which he
nevertheless takes seriously. The effect is as subtle as
a brick, but is nevertheless mesmerising: the chimes at
the Circus (track 10) are grotesque and almost comical
as the Christians are led to the lions, while the Epiphany
Festival (track 13) sounds almost pagan in its raw energy.
It’s all wonderful stuff, and Muti can show expert control
too, not least in the way he shapes the
Fountains with
an eye to the arch-like structure: there is a palpable
sense of build from the climax of the third movement to
the gentle twilight of the fourth. All in all this is a
marvellous achievement and it is worth having this set
for these performances alone.
The
treats don’t end there, though. Respighi’s decadent post-Romantic
vocal textures are embraced with perhaps surprising vigour
by two great British singers. Christine Rice’s chocolaty
mezzo is just right for the twilit world of
Il Tramonto,
a setting of Shelley’s poem
The Sunset, while Janet
Baker is rich and lustrous in repertoire that is far from
her home territory. There are no texts or translations,
though, so you need to be ready to let yourself wallow
in the treacly textures rather than follow every word.
Those
other British stars, the Academy of St Martin in the Fields,
acquit themselves admirably in the very endearing
Trittico
Botticelliano, Respighi’s response to three masterworks
in the Uffizi in Florence.
La Primavera has an excitable
sense of awakening in its filigree orchestration and its
jaunty late theme is very well played. The frostier world
of
L’adorazione die Magi contains a version of the
Christmas hymn
Veni, Veni Emmanuel, reworked in
Respighi’s inimitable style, while
La nascita di Venere consists
of a crescendo depicting her approach to the shore, which
then recedes like a wave sinking back. It’s very successful
and their playing is every bit as idiomatic for the charming
Birds suite.
However, Marriner lets them down very badly in the well-known
prelude to the suite which is ridiculously slow, so as
to be almost elephantine! It ruins the mood of the piece
and does nothing to prepare for the delights that lie ahead.
It’s all the more bizarre because the tempo is much more
sprightly for the theme’s reprise in the finale, making
the lumpen prelude feel like even more of an aberration.
This is the only disappointing moment in the set, perhaps
amplified by the fact that everything around it is of so
much quality.
Still,
if you can get over this then you’ll find a Respighi set
to cherish, though the documentation is minimal. It’s very
well played, it sounds magnificent and it’s at superbudget
price. Why hesitate?
Simon
Thompson
Christine Rice (mezzo) 
