Maurice RAVEL (1875-1937)
Alborada del gracioso [7:27]
Boléro [13:51]
Shéhérazade [17:00]
Une barque sur l’océan [7:45]
La valse [12:55]
Pavane pour une infante défunte [6:45]
Karine Deshayes (mezzo)
Luxembourg Philharmonic Orchestra/Emmanuel Krivine
rec. 6-10 September 2011, Grand Auditorium de la Philharmonie, Luxembourg
ZIG-ZAG TERRITOIRES ZZT311 [65:43]
Maurice RAVEL (1875-1937)
La valse [12:16]
Ma mère l’oye (five pieces) [18:03]
Tzigane [9:20]
Boléro [16:33]
Pavane pour une infante défunte [6:25]
Gordan Nikolic (violin)
Netherlands Philharmonic Orchestra/Carlo Rizzi
rec. March-April 2012, Beurs van Berlage, Amsterdam
TACET 207 [63:10]
Maurice RAVEL (1875-1937)
Alborada del gracioso [7:35]
Pavane pour une infante défunte [6:37]
Rapsodie espagnole [15:04]
Pièce en forme de habanera (arr. Hoërée) [3:18]
Shéhérazade, Ouverture de féerie [13:02]
Menuet antique [6:43]
Boléro [15:18]
Jennifer Gilbert (violin)
Orchestre National de Lyon/Leonard Slatkin
rec. 2-3 September 2011, Auditorium de Lyon, France
NAXOS 8.572887 [68:19]
see also review by Michael
Cookson
2012 was the 75th anniversary of Maurice Ravel’s death,
so the Tacet, Zig-Zag and Naxos labels all began new cycles of his
orchestral music. At least, I assume that’s the reason for this fascinating
coincidence.
Volume 1 of each series is now upon us, and they have a few tracks
in common. Which of these new entrants shall prevail? Let’s find out.
We begin with the two works featured on all three discs. Emmanuel
Krivine (Zig-Zag), Carlo Rizzi (Tacet) and Leonard Slatkin (Naxos)
all offer us Pavane pour une infante défunte and Boléro.
Pavane first: I can’t say I’m too impressed by Slatkin’s,
with a bland, weak horn solo, but its final moments are very pretty.
Krivine offers a more closely miked horn section with a satisfyingly
authentic, melancholy sound; where Slatkin’s violins lay on the rubato,
Krivine’s don’t. Rizzi’s French horn gives the blattiest, least satisfying
solo of all, but the rest is perfectly fine.
Rizzi’s Boléro clocks in at 16:43; Slatkin’s is 15:18; Krivine’s
is 13:51. Obviously these are very, very different paces. If you like
this piece better at a certain speed, take that into advisement. Rizzi’s
Dutch woodwinds execute their solos with competence and clarity, but
seventeen minutes gets to be a drag to me. Slatkin opens subtly, his
double basses strike satisfyingly, and his woodwinds are on good form.
I’m less convinced by the violins and the hollow final climax. Krivine
has his wind soloists ever-so-gently bend the meter of the music.
I’m not a fan of the clarinet, but that’s made up for by a soulful
saxophone and the way the second snare drum enters precisely opposite
the first in the sound picture. Plus, Krivine’s account is the only
one where the arrival of the full orchestra feels rich, complete,
sumptuous. As with Slatkin, I’m not totally convinced by the violins,
but Krivine is the clear winner.
For La valse, we can choose between Rizzi and Krivine. Rizzi’s
account is faster (12:24), and gloriously recorded with deeply resonant
bass drums and more or less every instrument audible including bass
clarinets … inner voices. Rizzi’s reading feels a little too dry and
clinical, and the strings seem comparatively underpowered. The ending
is exciting, but this is La valse, so of course it is; but
the strings’ aside at 11:41-11:43 is sadly clipped. Krivine’s recording
is more closely recorded but it’s more idiomatic too; his flexibility
with tempo and dance rhythm result in moments of velvety beauty. He
does have what sounds like a smaller orchestra, and one with occasional
technical issues: a split in the violins, a missed cymbal crash. Despite
the slower speeds, inaudible gong and defects in technique, Krivine’s
ending is much better than Rizzi’s, with tastefully applied portamenti
and a natural, exciting pulse.
For Alborado del gracioso, it’s Slatkin vs. Krivine. Slatkin’s
harp has a piquant sound, although the central bassoon solo feels
a little too slow. Overall the reading could use a little more pep
in its step. Krivine is just seven seconds faster, but his bassoonist’s
solo is more pliable and more individual in character, with nuances
that make it feel improvised. Neither is first-class.
Now we’re down to the unique entries. Slatkin offers Rapsodie
espagnole, Habanera, the Shéhérazade overture,
and the Menuet antique. Krivine has Shéhérazade
the song-cycle and Une barque sur le océan. Rizzi offers
Tzigane and about half of the Mother Goose ballet.
Slatkin’s Rapsodie espagnole has won acclaim elsewhere, but
I found it rather lifeless and uninspired. The rest of his collection
is comparatively rare: the Shéhérazade overture, Menuet
antique, and an orchestration of the Habanera by Arthur
Hoërée. This is all done with competence, and concertmaster Jennifer
Gilbert’s violin solo in Habanera adds a measure of soulfulness
too. The booklet does not mention her role in the orchestra, nor will
it tell you that you’ve heard of her brother Alan.
Karine Deshayes brings to Shéhérazade a mezzo voice of unusual
lightness and clarity; its bright tone and her almost effortless technique
make her singing feel unforced. She doesn’t quite have the gravitas
of the darker-hued Julie Boulianne on Naxos, nor of past singers like
Janet Baker, which makes your preference a matter of taste. Among
recent singers Véronique Gens may well be the best of all.
Emmanuel Krivine’s Une barque is truly outstanding in every
particular, the ocean swelling with unusual dynamism and mystery,
the Luxembourg Philharmonic at its most luxurious and its most idiomatically
French.
Rizzi, having lost the head-to-head match-ups, loses again here. There
was room on the CD for all of Mother Goose, but we only get
the “five pieces” suite. Gordan Nikolic does contribute a very idiomatically
gypsy-style Tzigane, with rustic fiddling and great virtuosity
but some scratchiness, the highlight of the album.
What lessons can we learn from all this? Rizzi has the best acoustic,
and Slatkin the dullest, but in terms of interpretations, Rizzi’s
at the bottom end of the pole, always competent but never especially
engaging. His Boléro is too slow for me to handle. Emmanuel
Krivine’s Ravel is not up to the inspired levels of, say, Jean Martinon
or Pierre Boulez (DG), but his is certainly the finest of these new
efforts. His conducting is the most pliable, engaged, romantic; his
orchestra most embodies a seductive French sound. This may not be
flawless Ravel, but it’s the project whose continuation I’ll most
happily anticipate.
Brian Reinhart
ZIG-ZAG TERRITOIRES ZZT311
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TACET 207
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NAXOS 8.572887
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