RECORD OF MONTH
Vincent d’INDY (1851-1931)
Orchestral Works - Vol. 4
Poème des rivages - Suite symphonique en quatre tableaux
(ed. Cyril Bongers)
(1919-1921) [39:37]
I. Calme et lumière. Agay (Méditerranée) [11:32]
II. La joie du bleu profond. Miramar de Mallorca (Méditerranée) [5:33]
III. Horizons verts. Falconara (Adriatique) [8:22]
IV. Le mystère de l'Océan. La Grande Côte (Golfe de Gascogne) [13:53]
Symphonie italienne (1870-1872) [37:01]
Iceland Symphony Orchestra/Rumon Gamba
rec. 27-30 September 2010, Háskólabió, Iceland
CHANDOS CHAN 10660 [76:53] 
I welcomed the first volume in this series – review
– which confirmed Rumon Gamba as a very fine conductor and the Iceland Symphony
Orchestra as a top-notch band. Not only that, Chandos did the music proud,
with a dynamic and detailed recording. I have yet to hear the intervening
discs, but I’ve no reason to think they’re anything less than splendid. For
comparative purposes I have the 24bit/96kHz download of Vol. 4, which I intend
to review on Download Roundup. Frankly, I would have preferred it if this
CD were in a high-resolution format as well, but for some reason Chandos have
stayed with 16bit/44.1kHz for the whole series.
Agay (Méditerranée), the first movement of Poème des rivages, is clearly
Debussian in its watery theme and general wash of colour; it has all the evanescence
one expects of an Impressionist painting, yet there’s a Ravel-like clarity
there as well. Certainly, the rhythms are taut, that repeated falling theme
on the lower strings is especially memorable. Gamba coaxes the most luminous
sounds from his orchestra, all faithfully caught by the Chandos engineers.
The quiet, sustained loveliness of the final bars is particularly beautiful.
The second movement – Miramar de Mallorca – is infused with a southern warmth
and played with a joie de vivre that is most appealing. It’s an intricate
piece of writing, with just a twist of Wagner, the ensuing hymn to the Adriatic
underpinned by crisply articulated timps and a thrilling – but sparingly used
– bass drum. The quieter moments confirm just how good – and how naturally
balanced – this recording is, timbres rendered with rare fidelity. As for
the undulating swell of La Grande Côte, this is as painterly as it gets; Gamba
is keenly aware of the music’s shifting colours and rhythms, a mix of fine
weather and sudden squalls. The last minute or so of this movement is astonishing,
a long, slow whisper of sound fading to grateful silence.
How does one follow that? The youthful Symphonie italienne in A minor,
rather like Mendelssohn’s in A major, is d’Indy’s response to the sights and
sounds of Italy – in this case Rome, Florence, Venice and Naples. And lest
one think this is forgettable juvenilia, just read Andrew Thomson’s exhaustive
analysis in the liner-notes. In spite of its compositional complexities, the
symphony has a fresh, open-faced character, from the Wagnerian heft of Rome
through to the vigorous Saltarello of Naples. The orchestral playing is alert
and supple throughout, Gamba drawing delectable sounds from strings and woodwinds
in particular. The brass writing – and playing – is nicely restrained too,
adding just enough ballast to this most graceful work.
True, the symphony does stray into the doldrums at times, but even then I
doubt you’ll hear a more persuasive performance than this. As always, a conductor’s
firm advocacy can make all the difference – and after four discs devoted to
d’Indy no-one could doubt Gamba’s affection for this composer. Indeed, there’s
an easeful, innocent pleasure to the music – and the music-making – that would
be very hard to beat.
Sheer, unadulterated pleasure. Go on, treat yourself.
Dan Morgan
Sheer, unadulterated pleasure. Go on, treat yourself.