Nikolay RIMSKY-KORSAKOV (1844-1908)
Sheherazade, Op.35 (1887-88) [45:52]
The Tale of Tsar Saltan Suite, Op.57 (1899) [20:46]
Flight of the Bumblebee, from The Tale of Tsar Saltan (1899) [1:31]
Seattle Symphony/Gerard Schwarz
rec. May-June 2010, Benaroya Hall, Seattle. DDD
NAXOS 8.572693 [66:36]
Rimsky-Korsakov was one of those composers who were expert in how to
say something but did not always know what to say. That said, his most
popular work deserves its fame. In Sheherazade his invention was at
its peak, and was supported by a unique mastery of orchestration. It is officially
a suite, but due to its proportions and structure could just as well be called
a symphony. After all, its brother Antar, with a similar program, was
designated by the composer as his Symphony No.2.
The story is based on The Book of 1001 Nights. We hear some of the
tales that Sheherazade told the stern Sultan Shakhriar. The music opens with
dialogue between the powerful, angry bass of the Sultan and the sweet arabesque
of the violin, impersonating the storyteller herself. These two voices reappear
later in the course of the suite, as Sheherazade introduces her new stories.
The first movement is a vivid picture of the open sea that carries the ship
of Sinbad the Sailor. Rimsky-Korsakov, a naval officer himself, certainly
knew the subject well. His orchestral skill is on full display: one can almost
see the foam torn by the wind off the wave-tops, hear the roaring depths beneath.
In the quiet moments, the Sea is beautiful and inviting, its lulling and rocking
motion is tender. The colours here and in the following parts are Oriental:
this is the Sea seen through Sinbad’s eyes.
The second movement is a kind of orchestral ballad. It starts with the solo
woodwinds narrating their sad story over the strumming accompaniment of a
harp. This story is all hostility, galloping horses, fierce battles and clashing
swords. The gloomy mood is dispersed in the third movement, which tells of
happy love. It is subtitled The Young Prince and the Princess. The
music is built on two themes. The first is sensual and calm – probably, depicting
the Prince. The second is playful and happy: probably, the Princess. This
dancing theme is sprinkled with little bells and dotted rhythms.
In the last interlude between the Sultan and Sheherazade, the ruler is already
in a better mood, and is impatient to hear what happens next. The finale starts
with the bustling noise of the Festival in Baghdad. Amid the swirling
crowds we see familiar faces from the previous parts. All of a sudden, we
are back in the wide sea, aboard Sinbad’s ship. The sea is full of scary fascination,
and the storm carries us to a magnificent shipwreck on the Magnet Rock. There
is a return to calm, and the sweet voice of Sheherazade rises in the air for
the last time over the pacific murmurs of the tamed Sultan.
And from Sultan to Saltan. Like many composers of his generation, Rimsky-Korsakov
quenched his thirst for the Exotic in the Orient. He was also Number One in
the painted hall of Russian musical fairytale. That’s the source of Tsar
Saltan. The music was extracted from Rimsky’s opera written in 1899, on
the subject from one of Pushkin’s fairytale poems.
The first movement depicts The Tsar’s Farewell and Departure and is
a bouncy march. Were it slower, it could be called solemn; as it is, it has
a not-so-serious, almost comic air, like the Russian version of the Radetzky
March. After all, the tale is for children. The second movement is entitled
The Tsarina in a Barrel at Sea - yes, such things do happen sometimes.
The Tsarina is definitely not happy about the situation. We hear the voice
of the sea, similar to the waves that carried Sinbad’s ship, though now without
that delight. The water is dripping, and the Tsarina laments her fate. Toward
the end the sea becomes more benevolent – apparently, bringing the barrel
to the shore.
In the last movement we see the three wonders of the magical city of Ledenets
(no relation). First, the wonderful squirrel sings a merry song while crunching
nuts made of gold and emeralds. Then, 33 mighty warriors emerge from the sea
to guard the city. Finally we hear the lush, enchanting music of the beautiful
Swan-Princess. The episodes are prefaced and separated by fanfares, and the
sequence ends in a glittering coda.
From the same opera comes the famous Flight of the Bumblebee. It is
a short and effective encore, and should be considered as such. Feel free
to skip it if you don’t want to lose the enchanted mood of the Suite.
Once I had a quest for the perfect Sheherazade. I heard quite a few,
famous and not so famous, from Beecham to Gergiev. They all missed something,
here or there. They were either too down-to-earth or too ephemeral, too lethargic
or too brisk. At least, they all urged me to continue looking. Finally, I
found the 1948 Ansermet with Paris Conservatoire Orchestra, and it became
my Sheherazade, powerful and beautiful, wildly energetic yet light.
But the sound quality there was … well, not a match for the playing. In this
new recording I hear all the good of Ansermet, and more. It is even more powerful,
even more beautiful. Decisions as to tempo are just perfect, and each phrase
grabs the listener. Maria Larionoff’s violin conveys the character of the
storyteller: sweet and slender, yet very smart. The orchestra dazzles. The
recording quality is excellent. You find yourself in the middle of the sea,
the battle, the festive crowds. I can’t say if this is the best Sheherazade
ever – I haven’t heard them all, and tastes differ. However if I’m asked for
my pick, this will be it. It’s the best one I’ve heard.
Oleg Ledeniov
The best Sheherazade I’ve heard.
see also review by Brian Reinhart (March 2011 Bargain of the Month)