In 1919 Arnold Schoenberg and a group of like-minded individuals,
including Alban Berg and Anton Webern, established The Society
for Private Musical Performance in Vienna. As Christopher Morley
puts it in his useful booklet note, this was “in the nature
of a concert-giving commune”. The aim was to put on good
performances of modern works and, in the case of substantial
orchestral scores, to present the music in arrangements for
piano or chamber ensemble. This was at a time when access to
large-scale pieces was particularly limited since the public
of the day didn’t enjoy the access to music through broadcasts
or recordings that we now take for granted. So the arrangements
of orchestral pieces made for the Society performed the same
function as piano arrangements of, say, the Beethoven symphonies
had been doing for decades in terms of making music more widely
available. The Society existed until 1921 and in those three
years or so it put on 117 concerts, encompassing 154 works.
One of the arrangements was Erwin Stein’s reduction of
Mahler’s Fourth Symphony. Stein’s scoring requires
flute, oboe, clarinet (all with the usual doublings), piano
(four hands), percussion, string quartet, double bass and harmonium.
It will be noted that among the instruments missing are bassoon,
harp and timpani. The piano and harmonium fill in a lot of the
harmonies.
I was pretty sure that I‘d heard this arrangement before
and it transpired that I’d reviewed
its first-ever recording, an Australian production, back in
2003. Looking back at that review - but only after I’d
completed my listening to this SOMM release - I see that I wrote
the following:
“I must admit to some ambivalence about this recording.
I find the reduced scoring by turns enlightening and frustrating….[the
liner note] argues that this version imparts a unique transparency
to Mahler’s lines, allowing many details to come through
with far greater clarity than is possible in the full scoring.
To some extent I’d agree….I’ll admit there’s
a certain piquant fascination in spotting where familiar lines
have been reallocated (and, on first hearing, in trying to guess
which of the instruments will get a particular solo, normally
played by an absent instrument.) However, the reduced scoring
robs us of Mahler’s complicated but very finely calculated
orchestral palette. Consequently, I’m bound to say that
I found more instances of frustration than of enlightenment
when listening.
For much of the time the re-scoring is surprisingly effective,
no doubt because this symphony has the lightest orchestration
of all the nine. However, to make perhaps the most obvious point
of all, it’s the climaxes that really suffer. Worst of
all is the great moment of fulfilment at the climax of the third
movement. Here, above all, I felt short-changed. The sun just
doesn’t burst through the skies here - how one misses
the pounding timpani and pealing horns!”
My listening notes for this Somm performance show that I haven’t
really changed my mind. The first movement, which David Curtis
takes at a lively pace, sounds somewhat brittle - and I don’t
mean that in a derogatory sense - and the more grotesque aspects
of Mahler’s writing come out well. There’s also
a good rustic feel to the second movement, especially from the
use of the clarinet. Overall, however, for my taste there’s
too much unrelenting perkiness in the sound of these two movements.
The heavenly third movement features a lovely cello line at
the beginning - beautifully played here - but although there
are passages of real felicity there’s no escaping the
fact that the climax sounds puny. Mahler’s rapt conclusion
comes off well. However, there’s a certain frisson when
one hears a full orchestra playing as softly as they can at
the end of this movement - and in other places - and a chamber
ensemble can’t quite replicate that. The reduced scoring
perhaps works best in the finale. Heather Shipp is a mezzo and
her voice is quite rich. Her timbre prevents her from conveying
the light, innocent naivety that the best sopranos bring to
this music. In fact her voice is somewhat out of scale with
the instrumental scoring.
The playing by the members of the Orchestra of The Swan is very
fine indeed; there’s no hiding place in a score like this
and under David Curtis’ leadership they make the best
possible case for this arrangement. To my mind, however, Stein’s
version is now just a curiosity. Though it fulfilled a useful
purpose at the time it’s now of its time and no
substitute for the real thing, which can be accessed so easily
these days. In fairness, however, I ought to say that others
have been more enthusiastic about the Stein arrangement than
me. Readers are referred to a review
of a rival recording by Colin Clarke. His verdict was: “More
than a curio, this Fourth has an appeal and an impact all of
its own.”
Rather to my surprise I felt that the arrangement by David Matthews
of Nuits d’Été was more successful.
The reduction was made in 2005 for an ensemble called Sinfonia
VIVA. Matthews re-scores the work for wind quintet, string quintet
and harp. On reflection, after listening, I came to the conclusion
that perhaps the Matthews arrangement works better than Stein’s
because, unlike Stein, he doesn’t actually omit any instruments
that Berlioz used. The original scoring calls for double wind
and three horns besides strings. So although some of Berlioz’s
notes may be missing we hear, in a reduced form, the timbres
to which we’re used. It’s worth saying also that
Matthews has expanded the role of one instrument. In Berlioz’s
original the harp is only involved in the second song but Matthews
has written a part for it in three more.
I think that Heather Shipp’s voice is more suited to these
songs than to the Mahler. She may not have at her disposal the
range of vocal colours that the greatest interpreters have brought
to Nuits d’Été and her words are
not always ideally clear but I enjoyed her performance - for
instance she brings fine feeling to ‘Absence’. I
think Matthews’ scoring brings a nice degree of intimacy
to much of the music. However, something of the oppressive quality
of ‘Sur les lagunes’ is lost and ‘L’Île
inconnue’ - the only song in which Berlioz deploys all
three horns, incidentally - sounds a bit thin and misses something
of the excitement of Berlioz’s writing. As in the Mahler,
the instrumentalists play splendidly.
The performances were recorded in concert. The audience is commendably
silent though there is applause after both works, which I know
bothers some collectors.
In the end I think this is a specialist release. However, if
you’re more attracted by hearing ‘Mahler lite’
than I am then this disc is well worth investigating.
John Quinn
Masterwork Index: Mahler
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