Vladimir Fedoseyev plays the first movement of the Leningrad
straightforwardly and with a clear sense of direction, avoiding
the interpretive extremes of inflation and casualness. Some
may want more incisive attacks at the start, or more emphatically
marked accents in the march's climactic statements after
13:15 -- as the passage stands, it's effective but generic
-- but there's something to be said for allowing the
composer's effects to register on their own. The resulting
performance, while suitably epic, also feels somehow more accessible
and user-friendly than most.
That's not to say that Fedoseyev is indifferent to niceties
of rhythm and structure. In the transition between themes, the
flute phrases offer a palpable relaxation within the established
pulse; a bit later on, the conductor renews the forward impulse,
again without pushing the actual tempo. Nor does the conductor
leave expressive details to fend for themselves, encouraging
beautiful, sensitive playing. Note the expressive oboe in the
third theme; the violin solo at 5:53, a fragile echo of the
flute solo preceding; the mournful bassoon weaving through stark
pizzs at 21:03. Cool, crisp flute soli register strongly, especially
against spare accompaniments. Even in the juggernaut march,
pure intonation and poised attacks temper the cheeky E-flat
clarinet. The string passage at 23:26, with violins wending
their way above a vibrant chordal accompaniment, injects a cautious
optimism into the proceedings, as does the gentle, soaring passage
at 24:47.
Fedoseyev brings enough profile to the remaining movements so
that they're not an anticlimax, underlining their kinship
with the analogous movements of the Fifth Symphony. The Moderato
(poco allegretto), like the first movement, could be crisper
in attack, but the composer's irregular scansions and
angular melodic contours keep the mood edgy, as do the quiet,
flutter-tonguing flutes later on. The conductor maintains a
buoyant lilt in the waltz passages, even when the brasses are
hammering away. The brief calm at 10:18 proves deceptive.
The Adagio attains some of the precision, and the sense
of importance, that was in abeyance earlier. The organ-like
wind chords at the start, cleanly attacked, are imposing; the
strings' theme is stoic; yet another waltz-like flute
solo is wistful. In the episode at 7:20, the pumping syncopations
are vigorous and agitated. The fierce, proud brass chorale at
9:33 suggests a triumph over adversity, though the mood is short-lived.
At 12:48, the midrange strings sing their hushed theme - still
another waltz! - with an understated dignity.
The finale is steady and propulsive; the brass chords impede
the momentum a bit at 4:09, but the dotted rhythms are alert
in the weighty passage after 7:32. But surely the horns'
unison theme at 13:08 should cut through the accompaniment more
strongly? The conclusion is another sweeping tutti,
but dissonances and skittish moving parts suggest that the triumph
is not complete, the struggle not yet ended - an accurate reflection
of the situation on the home front at the time.
For all my reservations, this is an affecting and well-realized
performance - much of it actually came off better the second
time around. Besides, it's not as if there's a
clear alternative recommendation. I don't share the general
enthusiasm for Bernstein's Chicago Symphony account (DG),
finding it a bit too spacious, and coldly reproduced
to boot. His earlier New York Philharmonic version (Sony), taut
and dramatic, takes in some rough playing, as does Svetlanov's
Melodiya issue. Jansons's scrupulous, musical account
(EMI) doesn't command attention as did his stunning Oslo
Fifth. Bychkov (Avie) offers suave playing, suavely recorded.
Perhaps the performances in the complete cycles of Rozhdestvensky
(Melodiya) and Barshai (Brilliant Classics), neither of which
I've yet heard, will best balance this score's
diverse elements.
Stephen Francis Vasta
Stephen Francis Vasta is a New York-based conductor, coach,
and journalist.