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Maurice RAVEL (1875-1937)
Daphnis et Chloé, complete ballet [56:49]
Claude DEBUSSY (1862-1918)
Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune [11:08]
Rundfunkchor Berlin
Orchestre Philharmonique de Monte-Carlo/Yakov Kreizberg
rec. 2-3 April, 2 June, 13-14 July 2010, Auditorium Rainier III,
Monaco (orchestra); 1-2 July 2010, Haus des Rundfunks, Berlin, Germany
(choir)
OPMC CLASSICS 002 [67:57]
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Yakov Kreizberg’s death this year was far too early, at the
age of fifty-one, and caught by surprise everyone who was unaware
of his illness. That was nearly everybody since, as his wife
Amy rather angrily pointed out in response to a Telegraph
obituary, the Kreizbergs kept the name and nature of his illness
private. It took away from us an immensely talented conductor
who, for PentaTone, had recorded nearly everything from Johann
Strauss to Shostakovich and done it all very well (his Shostakovich
Fifth is my favorite: not a second paced wrongly, and a gut-wrenching
finale). The Orchestre Philharmonique de Monte-Carlo had just
formed its own record label to preserve on disc their partnership
with Kreizberg, which, according to the booklet, he planned
to lead on tour “to major musical centers throughout Germany
and Spain, as well as to Russia.” There is a certain very sad
poignancy to the fact that this new release is blissfully unaware
of its conductor’s passing.
Listening only confirms what we knew all along: that Kreizberg
is a superb conductor who gets the best from his players. The
opening scene of Daphnis et Chloé is as warm as it’s
ever been, the war dance manages to be both spirited and balletic,
and we are treated to a luxuriously slow sunrise, six-and-a-half
minutes long but not sagging for a moment. The most impressive
sections, though, are those usually fairly anonymous transitional
passages near the end of part one: Kreizberg finds exactly the
right tempo to get through these without bogging down the ballet.
A lot of recordings (not the greats, like Boulez/DG, but the
near-greats) allow your mind to wander in scenes like the “danse
lente et mystérieuse” as Ravel’s inspiration falls from the
exalted level of the first six numbers. That is certainly not
the case here: indeed the dance cited is one of the most exquisite
moments on the disc. I also find much to admire in the woodwinds:
the extensive solos so well-dispatched in the violent war dance,
the marvelous flute work in part III.
If I have any quibble, it is the not-quite-perfect sound of
the Orchestre Philharmonique de Monte-Carlo; the ensemble is
rather string-light. True, there’s a lot of great stuff going
on in the woodwinds, but the climaxes often sound a bit like
a wind band’s. (Exception: the vivid double-bass part immediately
before the famous sunrise.) The choir is the Rundfunkchor Berlin,
recorded in Germany on separate days and added to the mix by
the engineers; I hate to say it, but there are two tiny, momentary
flashes of realization that the orchestra and choir were recorded
separately: immediately before the war dance and before the
sunrise one hears the singers betraying the slightest hesitation
or stiltedness, as if they aren’t quite sure they will line
up with the orchestra properly. The chorus is also balanced
slightly too far forward on their very first appearance, just
seconds into the work, and on their very last appearance, when
they actually drown out the entire orchestra in the final bars.
Those blemishes are not enough to prevent this from being a
moving memorial to a conductor who died far too young. Boulez
will remain my top choice, but this is a very good album: a
well-paced, well-played Daphnis, very French, imperfect
but wholly enjoyable, with a lovely bit of Debussy for dessert.
If only we could ask Yakov Kreizberg for more.
Brian Reinhart
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