Last year I reviewed some live recordings of Elgar orchestral
works conducted by Vladimir Ashkenazy (review).
I found a good deal to admire but I came to the conclusion that
overall the recordings were not as successful as his Rachmaninov
set from Sydney (review)
and that the performances didn’t challenge the best. However,
I was intrigued by the prospect of hearing Ashkenazy in Gerontius.
It’s worth noting that the performances included here were given
over the same period of a few weeks as the other Elgar recordings.
Fresh from reviewing
the recent concert performance in Birmingham conducted by Edward
Gardner I sat down to appraise this set while I was still in
‘Gerontius mode’. Perhaps, with hindsight, that was
unfortunate. On the other hand, this Ashkenazy recording is
from live performances so it wasn’t an unfair juxtaposition.
Sadly, any comparisons would be almost without exception to
the disadvantage of the Ashkenazy performance.
Firstly, I’m afraid it has to be said that Mark Tucker is a
serious disappointment as Gerontius. He is a singer who, hitherto,
I would have associated with Baroque repertoire, though he does
range more widely. I don’t know whether these performances caught
him on a couple of evenings when he was in less than best voice
but, during Part I especially, he seems under quite a degree
of strain. As early as “Mary, pray for me” in his very first
solo, the top G at the apex of the phrase is not cleanly hit
and, indeed, top Fs and Gs seems to be a frequent problem throughout.
Shortly thereafter the pitching on the phrase “by which I come
to be” is inexact and there’s more questionable pitching at
various points in the ‘Sanctus, fortis.’ Mr Tucker sounds increasingly
taxed as that cruelly demanding aria unfolds; the phrasing is
choppy at times, probably as he snatches breaths. Any singer
can have off nights and that may well explain the issues I’ve
just mentioned. However, the other disquieting feature of his
singing is his pronunciation of the words, which often have
an almost Italianate sound. It’s inappropriate and sounds terribly
affected. In fairness, I should say that his performance in
Part II is more pleasing – perhaps the fact that much of the
role is lighter in style helps him here – and he makes a decent
job of ‘Take me away’. However, overall this portrayal of Gerontius
fails to pass muster in the face of competition on record from
the likes of Paul Groves, Philip Langridge, John Mitchinson
or Anthony Rolfe Johnson. Each of these singers, to say nothing
of the incomparable Heddle Nash, brings far more to the part.
Ashkenazy has cast the Finnish mezzo, Lilli Paasikivi, as The
Angel. She sings with a very full, rich tone and that in itself
offers no little pleasure – though occasionally she does use
a rather robust chest voice that doesn’t quite seem suited to
the music. Unfortunately, what I miss in her performance is
any real sense of identification with the text. The notes are
all there but she doesn’t penetrate below the surface. Where,
for example, is the expressiveness required at “You cannot now
cherish a wish”? It’s the same at “A presage falls upon thee”,
which sounds exactly like the phrases she’s sung immediately
before. There’s little or no sign of comforting or consolation
in her interpretation. She sings ‘The Angel’s Farewell’ nicely
enough but one has heard singers like Sarah Connolly in the
recent Birmingham performance and, on disc, Dame Janet Baker
or Helen Watts invest this passage and the remainder of the
role with so much more meaning. By comparison, Miss Paasikivi,
despite the technical merits of her voice, sounds generalised.
The third soloist, David Wilson-Johnson, brings much more to
his roles. He’s excellent as The Priest, singing with authority
and fine tone. Later on he’s equally impressive as the Angel
of the Agony.
Vladimir Ashkenazy’s conducting is something of a mixed bag.
He is perfectly satisfactory for much of the score but there
are a few misjudgements. By a long way, the worst of these occurs
in Part I. The choir’s entry at ‘Be merciful, be gracious’ is
marked in the vocal score as crotchet = 54. At the marked speed
the music has a steady, purposeful gait and that’s how every
conductor that I can recall hearing in the work has taken the
passage. For some reason best known to himself, Ashkenazy takes
the passage at a pace which my metronome tells me is between
94 and 96 crotchets per minute, well in excess of the prescribed
speed! At this pace the music becomes something akin to a brisk
march, which is an utter nonsense. Not only is this completely
at variance with the composer’s marking – and Elgar was scrupulous
about the markings he put in his scores – but it’s at odds with
the sentiment of the text. Frankly, it’s perverse. It also means
that when the tenor launches into ‘Sanctus, fortis’ the music
does not move forward at a new, much quicker tempo, as marked.
I’m not over-impressed with his handling of the end of Part
I either. After the bass solo, when the choir enters (‘Go, in
the name of Angels’) there’s an accelerando marked,
followed by a piú mosso. In fact, there’s no discernible
change in speed at all from Ashkenazy and this means that the
music sounds heavier than it should and, if anything, it becomes
heavier still just before the soloist starts to sing again so
that the end of the ensemble is enervatingly slow. Something
similar happens at the very end of the work, where Ashkenazy
draws the music out far more slowly than is good for it. As
a result the last 18 bars (from cue 136) become very stodgy,
probably in a misguided attempt at a “suitably solemn” ending:
the snag is that it’s not what Elgar wrote. There are other
instances where I’m uncomfortable with Ashkenazy’s decisions
about tempi and which make me feel that he’s decided to set
his own stamp on the work rather than to put his trust in Elgar’s
copious markings.
The choirs sing well. They deliver the Demons’ Chorus well;
the fact that the presto section is a bit too steady
isn’t their fault. The ladies make a splendid job as the Angelicals
in the lead-up to ‘Praise to the Holiest’ and when that chorus
is reached the choirs acquit themselves very well indeed. The
orchestral playing is also good.
To complete the set Jian Wang offers a good account of the Cello
Concerto. He’s an excellent and persuasive soloist – I really
enjoyed his tone in the slow movement – and Ashkenazy accompanies
him sympathetically.
When I surveyed
most of the available recordings of The Dream of Gerontius
in 2007 I noted several versions that have much stronger claims
on the attention of collectors than this one. All that has happened
since then is that the formidable performance by Sir Mark Elder
has entered the catalogue (review),
intensifying the competition still further. I’m afraid this
Ashkenazy recording is very disappointing and simply can’t match
the best on the market.
John Quinn