Orchestral Realisations by Luciano Berio
Franz SCHUBERT (1797-1828)
Rendering for Orchestra (after fragments for Symphony No.10 in D major D.936)
(1828/988-89) [32:36]
Johannes BRAHMS (1833-1897)
Clarinet Sonata Op.120 No.1 (1894/1986) [23:55]
Gustav MAHLER (1860-1911)
Six Early Songs from Lieder und Gesänge aus der Jugendzeit (1880-1890/1987)
[16:10]
Michael Collins (clarinet); Roderick Williams (baritone)
Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra/Edward Gardner
rec. Grieghallen, Norway, 16-19 August 2011
CHANDOS CHSA 5101 [73:33]
This is a typical Chandos disc; interesting repertoire ripely recorded by
fine performers.
It came as a passing surprise to realise that Luciano Berio died nearly a
decade ago and so already these 'contemporary' arrangements
of 'historical' works are assuming their own patina of the past.
Calum MacDonald contributes the typically cogent liner-note and I can do no
better than to paraphrase him. Berio, for all his status as Italy's
leading contemporary composer experimenting with electronic, aleatoric or
serial composition, had an abiding fascination with music of the past. Much
of his music entailed the quest to reconcile influences, styles and often
direct quotations into his own original scores. This reached a peak in the
third movement of Sinfonia which incorporates quotes by some fifty
other composers. He also famously produced a completion of Puccini's
Turandot radically different from the 'standard' Alfano
ending.
The three works on this disc represent what might be termed three facets of
the arranger's art. This centres on the degree of arranger input. I
would characterise these three styles as respectful, imaginative and interventionist.
In turn these correspond to how close the arranger stays with or strays from
the original perceived intention. Without doubt Berio was a masterly composer
and orchestrator so it is a given that all the music here is exactly how he
meant it to be; it will be down to a listening individual's taste how
much they feel that Berio's involvement adds to or detracts from our
knowledge and/or appreciation of the original.
Simply put, for this listener there is one palpable hit, one interesting attempt
and one that I do not yet comprehend. The fact that my reactions match in
exact reverse the three 'phases' of arranging outlined above
probably says more about my blinkered outlook than anything else.
The 'hit' are the Mahler songs. I have not heard them in their
original piano versions but here Berio has chosen a path of creating a sound-world
recognisably Mahlerian. Given that even early Mahler lies closer to Berio's
own modernist aesthetic than either Brahms or Schubert if there are any Berio-isms
lurking in the music they are less obvious to my (ignorant) ear than in the
other works. Baritone Roderick Williams is becoming very much a Chandos house
artist and it strikes me he sings this miniature cycle with great finesse
and subtlety. In the main these are lyrical, indeed intimate settings, from
Mahler's Wunderhorn years. Williams sings with ideally artless and
unforced beauty. He is helped greatly by some wonderful sleight-of-hand engineering
by the ever-reliable Chandos team. Much of the time Williams sings beautifully
quietly, floating the gentlest of tones on the barest whisper of breath. Yet
the engineers manage to keep his voice in an ideal balance with the detailed
orchestral texture without it sounding synthetically forward. Orchestral detail
is superb too and the fine Bergen orchestra - the wind soloists especially
- revel in their opportunities to shine. Conductor Edward Gardner is wholly
at ease with this idiom too. With his years of opera conducting standing him
in good stead the fluid accompaniment of the voice is attentive and impressive,
pointing and supporting the songs as required. Given the enduring vogue for
all things Mahler it surprises me that this has not entered the repertoire
where programmers want to avoid the usual options of Lieder eines fahrenden
gesellen or Kindertotenlieder.
The Brahms Clarinet Sonata No.1 is "adapted for clarinet and
orchestra" by Berio. MacDonald makes the valid point that this post-dates
the Mahler songs but in spirit it looks backwards as the Mahler looks forward.
For me this falls into the 'interesting but ...' category. Important
to say straightaway that soloist Michael Collins is excellent in every respect.
In the main Berio has chosen an 'imaginative' or one might say
a 'respectful plus' arranging style here. Again MacDonald points
out that Berio stays true to the essential harmonic vocabulary of Brahms so
none of the added chromaticism that Schoenberg teasingly incorporated into
his orchestral version of the Brahms Piano Quartet. Berio does add
his own extended introductions to the first and second movements but this
is done in a spirit of matching the grander scale of the new orchestral work.
Without a score it is hard to know where the Berio ends and the Brahms begins
so skilfully is one grafted onto the other. Even his addition of a contra-bassoon
is very much in the style of the Academic Festival Overture and as
such wholly idiomatic. All of this leaves one asking the questions: is the
resulting 'concerto' successful in its own right and if so is
this a good performance? My answer to both questions would be that they are
good but not great. Hearing a Romantic clarinet concerto - for that is what
this becomes - does make one realise that there is pretty much a hundred year
chasm in the history of the clarinet concerto from say 1830 - 1930 (a deliberate
generalisation but sufficient for this argument's sake). Factor out
the Stanford concerto - not exactly mainstream in any case - and there is
practically nothing for the virtuoso clarinettist to play in concert. Most
of the successful twentieth century concertos have worked by placing the soloist
in with a smaller instrumental group where the clarinet's tone does
not have to force its way through a full orchestral texture. Here, in the
Brahms/Berio he does. Again the Chandos black-magic mitigates this issue to
a great degree but for all Collins' skill it all too often feels that
he is fighting through the waves of orchestral sound rather than riding them.
The resonant Grieghallen adds to this problem with the string writing coming
across with such weight that the clarinet's more plangent tone is often
all but engulfed. The opening of the central slow movement though is an honourable
exception with truly beautiful playing from all concerned - the lighter textures
allowing Collins to float a magically lyrical line. If I'm being really
picky the pizzicato bass line is rather heavy for the delicacy of the soloist's
music. Both here and more so in the Schubert I find Gardner to be little more
than efficient in his accompaniments. Not that anything is wrong but where
he intuitively found a natural ebb and flow in the Mahler this feels much
more by rote.
The acoustic of the Grieghallen proves more of a problem in the Schubert 'Rendering'
which is the work I simply have yet to comprehend. I returned to the recent
discs of Halvorsen recorded by Chandos in Bergen (volume 4 just issued as
CHAN10710) to compare acoustically. In fact - not that surprisingly - they
are very similar but where the extended overhang of the hall suited the Halvorsen
- and indeed the Mahler here - to a tee the cleaner-textured Schubert suffers
almost destructively. This is in no way meant to be treated as an arrangement
or completion of the fragments left by Schubert of his Tenth Symphony. For
that turn to Brian Newbould's conjectural completion - a version I
have not heard in any of its recordings. Berio left his own explanation of
his approach and it is worth quoting; "Rendering, with its dual authorship,
is intended as a restoration of [Schubert's] sketches, it is not a
completion nor a reconstruction. This restoration is made along the lines
of the modern restoration of frescoes that aims at reviving the old colours
without, however, trying to disguise the damage that time has caused, often
leaving inevitable empty patches in the composition." Aurally this translates
as passages of what might be termed 'real' Schubert which then
dissolve into connective music in a wholly different idiom with no attempt
at all to disguise the change. The transitions are fascinatingly managed;
they are flagged by the appearance of an anachronistic - in Schubertian terms
- celesta that chatters away as the music melts into the often static modernistic
sections. Another programme note by Berio alludes to the fact that in his
favourite musical-magpie style he has incorporated into his passages motifs
and fragments of other Schubert works. He also notes that his material should
be performed without expression and 'as if soundlessly'. Certainly
the performance here achieves that very well but the resultant effect is as
if the music suddenly drifts off into a profound day-dream drained of energy
and any kind of momentum. It is only with an effort that the original Schubert-based
material is able to reassert itself and the music shakes itself out of the
reverie. Crudely put Schubert comes to represent action and Berio stasis.
My problem is that I can hear that this is exactly what is wanted and exactly
what is achieved but I am no nearer to understanding it. For me the stark
juxtaposition of styles works to the benefit of neither. Without a doubt there
are some gorgeous crystalline textures in the Berio interpolations. Again
the basic sound-stage is not a friend of these two disparate musical worlds.
For greater contrast I feel the Schubertian sequences would benefit greatly
from a dry and more analytical acoustic. Apparently Schubert was taking classes
in counterpoint at this time and certainly one can hear all kinds of quite
complicated contrapuntal writing but blurred and weakened by the generosity
of the hall. Likewise, the climaxes become inflated - big fat brass and lower
strings - that seems quite at odds with any kind of Schubertian sound-world
even when Berio is on hand. Again Gardner proves to be a very plain - dare
one say dull - interpreter of the Schubert. This might seem to be a simplistic
observation; but if the Berio passages are marked to be played without expression
a greater emphasis on the nascent romanticism of the Schubert would have thrown
this contrast into greater relief. As it is it sounds like plain Schubert
linked by frosty Berio. Now I know absolutely that Berio is one of the finest
composers of the last half century so this lack of comprehension is my failing
not his fault. I will stick with this work for the challenge it presents but
for the moment I am struggling. My instinct is that there is a more sympathetic
version of this work to be heard. Interesting to note that the original performers
were Riccardo Chailly and the Concertgebouw Orchestra. Chailly has a well-deserved
reputation for the eclectic nature of his repertoire; I imagine he might be
just the person to find a through-line for this work which seeks to juxtapose
such divergent music. A cursory check of the catalogue does indeed reveal
a version by those original performers but I was quite surprised to see a
further six recordings, the version under discussion being the eighth. Even
though the composition is now a good twenty years old that is still a very
respectable roster of discs so clearly both record labels and interpreters
warm to it more than I have on first acquaintance.
As with the majority of Chandos CDs this is now presented in hybrid SACD form.
I have listened to it in standard CD format only so my concerns regarding
the acoustic must be read with that caveat. I have to say though that this
was the same system and set-up that had me purring over the Halvorsen series.
All credit to Chandos for their continuing commitment to interesting and challenging
repertoire and a disc worthy of serious study. Future generations will decide
whether ‘Rendering’ is a work of passing curiosity or enduring merit.
Nick Barnard
A typical Chandos disc; interesting repertoire ripely recorded by fine performers.