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Ludwig van BEETHOVEN (1770
- 1827)
Complete Works for Piano and Orchestra
CD 1 [80:41]
Piano Concerto No.1, Op.15 (1795) [36:50]
Piano Concerto No.4, Op.58 (1806) [33:07]
Rondo, WoO 6 [10:14]
CD 2 [79:19]
Piano Concerto No.2, Op.19 (1792-8) [28:44]
Piano Concerto No.5, Op.73 Emperor (1808-9) [37:30]
Beethoven and Mozart: An Obsession? A talk by Howard Shelley [12:40]
CD 3 [78:28]
Piano Concerto No.3, Op.37 (1800-03) [34:50]
Piano Concerto, Op.61, arr. from Violin Concerto (1806-7) [43:19]
CD 4 [77:59]
Choral Fantasia, Op. 80* (1808) [18:31]
Piano Concerto, WoO4, orch. Howard Shelley; premiere recording [24:59]
Triple Concerto, Op.56† (1804) [33:51]
Howard Shelley (piano)
Tasmin Little (violin)† Tim Hugh (cello)†
Chorus of Opera North*
Orchestra of Opera North/Howard Shelley
rec. 6-8 September 2010, 20-21 June and 12-14 July 2011, Victoria
Hall, Leeds Town Hall
CHANDOS CHAN10695(4) [4 CDs: 80:41 + 79:19 + 78:28 + 77:59]
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I’ve come rather late to this party, but it still seems
appropriate to add my voice to the paeans of praise that have
been heaped upon this excellent Beethoven release. Shelley’s
communication with the orchestra is very much one of first-among-equals,
seen most evidently in his dual role as soloist and conductor.
It reaps glorious dividends throughout this music. It is helped
by lovely recorded sound, bloomy and full with just the right
amount of echo to evoke the acoustic of the venue; here the
piano comes across as a collaborator, not as a dictator.
The concertos themselves are given performances that could look
any others in the face and benefit from the comparison. The
first movement of No. 1 is bustling and majestic, before a sublime
restfulness settles over the slow movement. There is a beautiful
thoughtfulness to Shelley’s playing here, as if he is exploring
the music’s possibilities for the very first time, and there
is a wonderful swing to the finale, tempered by an almost tentative
take on the opening of the main theme. No. 2 is lithe and supple
with a lovely sense of interplay between the piano and orchestra
and a proper bounce to the finale. Shelley also manages to make
the slow movement sound strangely beautiful, evoking Beethoven’s
maturity in a way few performers manage. The opening of No.
3 has a crisp, almost business-like air that lends it an extra
air of menace, something offset entirely by the Elysian gentleness
of the Largo, and the finale is vigorous while remaining
playful – the final blaze of C major is a real treat. Shelley
also has a wonderfully communicative way with the Fourth;
throughout the first movement he and the orchestra seem to tease
the meaning out of the music, drawing it gently out of itself
with an almost tentative air that suits the music brilliantly.
That sense of drawing out comes into its own in the slow movement
as the piano gently appeases the strings with some lovely solo
work, especially around the two-minute mark. This leads to an
ebullient finale that just about overflows with energy and provides
a remarkably satisfying conclusion to the concerto as a whole.
The Emperor bristles with majesty, its first movement
self-consciously revelling in the splendour of the music and
loving every minute of it. The broad tempo for the slow movement
gives the music plenty of room to expand, and a palpable sense
of climax is reached when the piano finally arrives at its own
treatment of the main theme, about four minutes in. The finale
is rambunctious and brims with life; the vigour of the timpani
offsets the playing of the rest of the orchestra brilliantly
and creates a surge of energy which makes me want to sample
this movement again and again.
One of the real points of interest here is the youthful E flat
concerto which the 13-year old composer wrote in his Bonn years.
Only its piano part survives in manuscript form, and the orchestral
part has been reconstructed, albeit conjecturally, by Shelley.
But he does a wonderful job, recreating a work of Haydnesque
vitality in its first movement and wonderful energy in its finale.
Shelley’s finest orchestral touches come in the wonderful woodwind
lines that accompany the soloist in the slow movement, a lovely
idea that is entirely in the spirit of what the young Beethoven
may have been thinking.
Shelley also gives a turn to the piano version of the violin
concerto. No matter how many times you hear it, you’ll always
be taken aback when the piano enters for the first time. Even
though the composer made the transcription himself, it’s unlikely
to replace the original in anyone’s affections. The main reason
is that the piano doesn’t have the same lyrical arc as the violin
in some of the main melodies. This occurs most damagingly when
the beautiful alternative theme of the slow movement is first
revealed, about 4˝ minutes into the Larghetto. It sounds
earthbound here and lacks the songful quality that the best
violinists will bring to it. Still, it had the benefit of making
me focus all the more on the orchestra whose playing here, as
elsewhere in the set, is superb, full of understanding and an
opera orchestra’s ability to listen.
Even the troublesome Choral Fantasy comes up as a work worth
getting to know better. The main theme grows organically out
of the opening flourish before being bandied around and developed
extensively. The entry of the chorus feels like a genuine climax
rather than something tacked on, though the singing is a touch
on the raw side at times. More than ever, this feels like Beethoven
is engaging in a dress rehearsal for the finale of the Ninth
Symphony.
The Triple Concerto, a favourite work of mine, I found especially
enjoyable. There is a wonderful sense of collective engagement
in this performance. Of course, that’s the way it should always
be, but we’ve all heard star performances where the individuals
seem more important than the whole. Not so here: this is a performance
where each performer is subservient to the demands of the score.
There are plenty of moments where one player has to stand out
and take the limelight, but just as delightful are the moments
where the other two step back and accompany faithfully, adding
their voices as support rather than as scene-stealers. Little
and Hugh prove to be excellent collaborators here, Hugh’s cello
playing coming across as particularly stylish. The tempi are
on the fast side for the first movement, but they allow the
majesty of the music to breathe and flourish, and the orchestral
climaxes are every bit as thrilling as elsewhere. The beautiful
slow movement has a rapt, intense quality to it, while the finale
feels like a conversation between friends.
This performance sets the seal on an outstanding collection,
worthy to stand up to any equivalent set that has appeared in
recent years. Paul Lewis and Jir(í Be(lohlávek make the most
interesting comparison for having been released so recently,
and their performances are every bit as stylish, but they don’t
provide the extra works and their price is comparable to this
set, which consists of four good value CDs which have been crammed
full of excellent music in great performances. It’s this one
that I’ll be coming back to again and again, to rekindle a love
of music well known and to open my eyes anew to the genius that
Beethoven displays on every page.
Simon Thompson
See also review and Recording of the month rating by Dominy
Clements
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