The blurb on this Blu-ray trumpets the significance of this
concert; not only does it mark the 90th anniversary
of the Salzburg Festival, it also commemorates 50 years of the
city’s Großes Festspielhaus. And as performers go, this is as
stellar as it gets, with Daniel Barenboim leading the Viennese
orchestra and choirs in a varied programme of Beethoven, Boulez
and Bruckner. His long line of Beethoven recordings – starting
with that classic EMI set of concertos with Otto Klemperer –
is the stuff of legends, so chances are we’re in for a treat
with this new rendition of the G major concerto. The Boulez
may be less appealing, but the real draw for me is Bruckner’s
mighty Te Deum, which Barenboim has also recorded before
(DG).
Recently I reviewed a Blu-ray featuring Martha Argerich at the
2010 Verbier Festival, and generally welcomed her playing of
this Beethoven concerto. First impressions of Barenboim – who
directs from the keyboard – are somewhat disappointing. Where
the Swiss band brings a jovial air to the first movement the
Viennese seem rather dour and foursquare. True, there’s some
characterful woodwind playing in the extended orchestral introduction
and Barenboim is fluent enough, but this remains a curiously
staid, rather airless, performance.
Part of the problem lies with the recording. Selecting PCM stereo
from the options menu results in a narrow, boxy sound reminiscent
of radio broadcasts from the 1960s. Switching over to DTS Master
Audio 5.0 – mixed down to stereo by my Sony player – makes a
huge difference; suddenly, the soundstage opens out and there’s
far more body and detail. This is very odd indeed, but as Euroarts’
unhappy experiences with Claudio Abbado’s Mahler cycle and Dave
Billinge’s appendix to my review
of Antoni Wit’s Mahler 8 confirm, there are persistent – and
worrying – problems with these Blu-rays that really must be
addressed.
On first acquaintance this Salzburg disc falls well below the
high sonic standards set elsewhere, the piano’s lower register
and the tuttis in the Beethoven surprisingly ill-defined. Indeed,
as I’ve noticed on other Blu-rays there’s a ‘processed’ quality
to the sound that I’ve not encountered on DVDs. While the picture
is supposed to be high-definition 1080p, it’s softer than other
Blu-rays I’ve seen; skin tones aren’t very natural and contrasts
are less striking than usual. Not a huge issue for some, perhaps,
but as the format’s USP is superior pictures and sound this
just won’t do.
Back to the music, and the Andante seems very self-indulgent,
the camera focusing a little too cruelly on Barenboim’s old
hands and apoplectic colouring. The camerawork – like the miking
– is unflattering in its closeness with the players huddled
awkwardly around the piano. I’m afraid there’s little to enjoy
here. The Rondo is hectoring rather than vivacious; as for the
playing of orchestra and soloist, it’s fitful and charmless.
Indeed, there’s something old-fashioned about this performance
that hardly seems appropriate for this important double celebration.
At least the liberating textures of the Boulez should come as
a relief. And so it proves; the well-lit stage, players looking
a lot more animated, is a good visual metaphor for this splendid
performance of Notations. The oft-revised work – originally
written for piano – continues the distinguished tradition of
French music from Claude Debussy to Olivier Messiaen. The almost-Impressionist
colours of Modéré – Fantasque and Trés modéré
(I and III) are beautifully realized with the stopped brass
and assorted percussion being very well caught. Goodness, it’s
hard to believe this airy, detailed sound is part of the same
concert. Movement IV, Rhythmique, always reminds me of
Messiaen – La Transfiguration in particular –
while Hiératique, added in 1997, is full of imagination
and flair. Barenboim, flicking through a sail-sized score, chooses
to end with the aptly named Strident, which is superbly
played and recorded.
Oh, what a change from that suffocating opener, although the
applause is perhaps more respectful than enthusiastic. Buoyed
by this terrific performance I had high hopes for the Te
Deum, helped by the presence of fine soloists and choirs.
I’ve always felt this is one of Bruckner’s very greatest creations,
every bit as inspiring as his late symphonies. I well remember
Herbert von Karajan’s thrilling account on LP and his visually
austere – and rather gloomy – filmed version on VHS; but one
of the most enduring and desirable performances on CD must be
Bernard Haitink’s incandescent version, also with the Wiener
Philharmoniker and first-rate soloists (Philips).
With the latter firmly in mind I did wonder how Barenboim would
compare. Well, I needn’t have fretted, for the opening is as
rafter-raising as ever. The soundstage is deep and wide, the
choral singing wonderfully incisive. The soloists are well blended,
and one marvels anew at how Bruckner structures this huge edifice.
The mood is now fearful, now fervent. How he builds unerringly
to those vaulting climaxes rendering the hushed ‘holies’ a tingling
precursor to yet another blaze of sound. As for the Viennese
brass, they’re in splendid form throughout.
Klaus-Florian Vogt is somewhat soft-toned in the ‘Te ergo’,
but he’s always firm and ardent. The quartet sings with quiet
radiance here and the ensuing trombone postlude more affecting
than usual. Indeed, one hears a lot of telling detail that’s
often lost in a wall of sound. The plucked basses are especially
audible, as is the rasp of deep brass. Just listen to those
fire-breathing timps in the ‘Aeterna fac’, adding awesome weight
and momentum to the choirs’ stratospheric singing. Really, Bruckner
doesn’t get much better than this, and one senses Barenboim
knows just how to shape and pace this music for maximum effect,
both musical and emotional.
Röschmann and Garanča are a well-matched pair, Vogt is
nicely complemented by the warm, steady tones of veteran bass
René Pape in the ‘Salvum fac’. And when they sing together even
Barenboim smiles approvingly in their direction. ‘In te, Domine,
speravi’ is the musical and dramatic apogee of this great work,
the choirs hurling their high notes into the empyrean before
storming the very citadels of Heaven. I simply defy you not
to be moved, and mightily so, by those final perorations which
are among the most glorious in all music.
With the exception of that dull Beethoven – and bearing in mind
my concerns about the sound options – there’s enough here to
make this a worthwhile concert. I daresay most will buy this
Blu-ray for the bread and perhaps skip the filling; don’t, for
the Boulez is a splendid piece, superbly shaped and projected
by Barenboim and his band. It’s the perfect entrée to
this composer’s often knotty œuvre and, quite possibly,
it’s the hidden gem in this star-studded affair.
Despite some technical issues, this is worth adding to your
stash of Blu-rays.
Dan Morgan
Dorothea Röschmann (soprano)
[85:00] 
