These two concertos form a pairing which is logical and convenient
but by no means ubiquitous. The Cello Concerto No. 1
is the more widely recorded of the two, with impressive accounts
from the likes of Han-Na Chang (see review),
and the more enduring dedicatee’s version, Mstislav Rostropovich
with Eugene Ormandy in 1959 and now available on Sony Classical.
One of the best discs of these two works is with Rafał
Kwiatkowski on the Dux label (see review).
Aside from Peter Wispelwey’s recording of the Cello
Concerto No. 2 along with Britten’s Third Suite
on Challenge Classics, there doesn’t seem to be much choice
in this repertoire when it comes to SACD recordings, so this
Chandos release enters the market with a useful USP.
Enrico Dindo won the Rostropovich Cello Competition in 1997
and has been performing widely since, also making recordings
which have included Bach’s Suites and Vivaldi Concertos
on Italian Decca. His playing here is remarkably rich, obtaining
deep and richly expressive tones from a Rogeri instrument from
1717. The cello sound is forward, bordering on the surrealist
as with so many concerto recordings these days, but not intolerably
massive in relation to the orchestra. In fact this is one of
the genuine strengths of this recording, with masses of colour
and detail from a very powerful sounding Danish National Symphony
Orchestra. The opening of the Cello Concerto No. 1 throws
down the gauntlet in this regard, the double-bassoon sounding
like you’ve never heard it in any other recording; dug
into with such gusto that you’d expect the floor to shake
and the keys to be shaken off by the vibrations. The excitement
in the playing is in its shaping and development, building stirring
structures rather than hitting us constantly with masses of
relentless intensity. The horn-calls are also marvellous in
this first Allegretto, woodwinds competing with the soloist
through grating dissonance and dramatic release. Perhaps the
strings could have had more presence to make the whole thing
a tad more credible. They should come into their own in that
most gorgeous and moving of Shostakovich statements, the central
Moderato. Even here though, the first horn entry far
outweighs the texture of the entire body of strings. Behind
the soloist they do seem to be rather at a disadvantage in the
balance. Just taking one comparison, that with Thorleif Thedéen
and James DePreist on the BIS label, the balance brings the
strings that much more into the picture. This allows a more
equal interaction which can carry greater emotional heft. Thedéen
is a little more heart-on-sleeve than Dindo, with a tighter
vibrato and a more vocal way of expressing the melodic lines.
I wouldn’t swap this BIS disc for the Chandos one now,
but still find it has a good deal to offer.
Whether or not you find the recorded balance a problem, Enrico
Dindo’s solo lines carry so much emotional strength that
you will find yourself gripped from beginning to end. One of
my old favourites for these pieces is from Truls Mørk
with the London Philharmonic and Mariss Jansons on the Virgin
Classics label. Certain aspects of Noseda’s approach do
remind me of the Jansons recording, but I have to admit that
Dindo gets as much and more out of the music than almost any
rival I can name. Like the texture in the inky lines of a Ralph
Steadman drawing, Dindo delights in thickening and thinning
sustained notes so that we are constantly in a state of awe
and expectation, even when Shostakovich is in passages of transition.
Listen in the Moderato to the general sonic picture at
about 7:00 and on though: the intensity of the upper strings
in the orchestra is almost entirely absent, which undermines
at least some of that good work. Dindo’s expressive playing
gives the impression of space, but Noseda’s tempi are
generally a tad more brisk and compact than many. Jansons takes
12:32 with this Moderato for instance, compared to Noseda’s
10:50.
The rough peasant feel in the final movement of this first concerto
is something to relish; the aural glue not quite holding together
as the winds advance in the balance and give us a kick from
time to time. It has an undeniable grip and snatch flowing from
Noseda’s treatment, an uncompromising approach which drags
us along mercilessly and never lets go.
Shostakovich’s Cello Concerto No. 2 is dark from
the outset, the mood superbly set through the solo cello and
lower strings in the opening bars. The imagination is teased
by fragmentary moments of brooding beauty, such as the repeated
double-stop gesture at around 4 minutes in. This is a bleak
landscape and the kind of inner journey which can lead you to
places both moving and disturbing. Dindo speaks emotively, the
sighing downward gestures weighed with tears, the parlando
moments confiding and gruff by turns. Shostakovich’s score
in the first movement is as hard as nails, and the players nail
it firmly. The bass drum thwacks from around 9:20 are an audiophile
treat as well.
The acoustic space is emphasised in the open textures of the
opening to the central Allegretto, and the sense of volume
in the 5.0 SACD surround mix is very tactile indeed. Listen
to the laughing winds from about 2:30: the playing is not only
needle sharp, but is also filled with personality and character
throughout. The theatricality of the opening to the final Allegretto
has rarely been so sharply observed, and you expect an announcement
from a melodramatic actor as much as you do the entry of the
cello. Those ‘nice’ tunes as they arrive are all
the more earth-shatteringly emotive for these extremes of contrast.
Little operatic touches and that late-Shostakovich sense of
a fatefully ticking time-bomb make the whole thing as touching
and filled with narrative import as I can ever remember hearing.
Chandos easily replaces its earlier release of this repertoire
with Frans Helmerson and the Russian State Symphony Orchestra
on CHAN 10040. This has some lovely playing and a decent concert
hall balance, but with somewhat rough-and-ready qualities from
the orchestra in some of the more technically demanding passages.
Fans of these two concertos simply must have this recording
from Dindo/Noseda. The cover photo of Red Square is strikingly
atmospheric, and there are good booklet notes and pictures inside
as well. Despite my reservations about the string balance which
admittedly affects the scoring of the first concerto more than
the second, this is a must-have and a life-changer for Shostakovich
fans.
Dominy Clements