Take one of the World’s great violinists, add a selection of its finest
orchestras, a group of the finest string concertos of the last century,
beautiful packaging and presentation and one would seem to have a certain
winner. Given that I am a big fan of Gil Shaham it saddens me not to be able
to give this beautiful two disc set an unequivocal reception.
There is a rather lazy critical response that tries to suggest that just
about every significant piece of art from the 1930s somehow contains
premonitions of the horrors to come – the greater the degree of premonition
the greater the art – or so the critical shorthand would have you believe.
One of the outstanding values of a set like this is that the listener can be
his or her own judge. In fact, with the exception of the overtly politicised
Hartmann - which undoubtedly benefits from the stark outrage and sorrow it
expresses - all of these works rather enjoy staring at their own artistic
navels. Certainly, you would be very hard-pressed to find anything except
personal motivation behind the Barber, Berg or Stravinsky – marvellous works
though each is. The Britten is the ‘darkest’ and largest of the works
offered here but even that is the suffering of the self not greater
mankind.
The album concept is wonderful; the 1930s was a remarkably fertile decade
for concertos of all styles from the Second Viennese Berg to the Romantic
Barber and the Objective Stravinsky. Certainly Shaham has the temperament
and more importantly the technique to conquer these diverse but complex
works. So why the relative disappointment? My main concern is the recorded
perspective and the too-often functional accompaniments. Curiously, although
all the recordings are taken from concerts and with different halls,
producer/engineers — except Andrew Walton putting in a double shift on both
the Barber and Britten as well as overall mastering engineer — and
orchestras there is an oppressively dry sound with excessive close
microphone balance. Shaham in particular ‘sits in your lap’ in a
disconcerting way. Literally every breath – even during loud orchestral
tuttis - is audible. Shaham’s playing can stand up to this microscopic close
attention but it does not make for a pleasurable listening experience.
Remarkably, even the Staatsoper in Dresden is made to sound two
dimensional.
For some collectors, audience noise is an important issue so please note
that there is some audible. In one concerto applause has been retained.
Taking the concertos in the order they are presented; disc 1 opens with the
unashamedly Romantic Barber concerto written for Iso Briselli. It is
something of a shock to realise that Shaham’s previous recording with Previn
and the LSO on DG is nearly twenty years old. That remains one of the top
recommendations in the catalogue - coupled as it is with an equally fine
rendition of the Korngold. Previn and Shaham seemed at one in their
willingness to bring out the remarkable lyrical beauty of the work with a
singly passionate account full of subtle nudges and ebbs and flows within
the basic tempi. In the new performance here with conductor David Robertson
— Shaham’s brother-in-law and preferred collaborator — a more objective and
rigorous approach is favoured. Perhaps I am just too familiar with the
‘romantic’ approach but I find this rethink too rigid. The New York
Philharmonic are not on their finest form – the
moto perpetuo
finale, written as a response to Briselli’s comment that the first two
movements were ‘too easy’, finds them scrabbling around. The music ends up
sounding frantic rather than energetic. So, the laurels to Shaham 1 for this
work — or indeed the rather wonderful version from James Ehnes coupled with
equally fine versions of both the Korngold and Walton concertos.
The Berg Concerto in Dresden would seem like a mouth-watering prospect.
but again the close recording minimises the dynamic range. It does not allow
instrumental textures to blend and reduces the essential genius of this work
namely that it is a romantic concerto written using serial techniques. Take
the very opening; the score is marked
pp which on my system’s
normal setting it does not sound. Add to this that sadly the very first
phrase from the clarinet and harp are not perfectly together. Following a
score of a concerto is often a disconcerting experience – certainly as far
as indicated dynamics are concerned. I do wonder if the move towards live
recordings exacerbates this. In concert the temptation for a soloist to
‘push’ dynamics is considerable and Shaham does this here. The second
‘movement’ is an allegretto marked
scherzando and then later
rustico and it has a rather nonchalant Viennese Ländler feel. The
scherzando marking is central to this – an indication of mood
not tempo. Shaham is disappointingly forceful and quite misses the
rustic character. There is more humour and wit in this score than Shaham or
Robertson seem willing to explore. As with the Barber, perhaps they are
exploring the grimmer aspects of the pre-War artistic experience. Certainly
Thomas Zehetmair on a bargain
Warner Apex disc accompanied by Heinz Holliger and the
Philharmonia — which also includes the Hartmann — is more alive to the
impish character. Best of all in my limited comparison is Josef Suk on the
classic version from
Supraphon with Karel Ancerl. The Shaham/Robertson approach works
well in the opening of the third movement Allegro – big forceful gestures
powerfully despatched but again the following passage with a return to a
ghostly recollection of Ländler-like material seems built bar to bar rather
than the longer gesture. I’ve heard this passage described as ‘nightmarish
lyricism’ – a quality not wholly evident here. As often in serial scores,
the composer obsessively micro-manages note dynamics, lengths and
articulations/attacks. Sadly the Dresden Staatskapelle rather generalise
these with
ff not noticeably more than
f and
fps
sounding suspiciously like
sfzs: the former should go loud/soft
instantly – the latter is in effect an exaggerated accent.
The emergence of the Bach chorale in its original harmonisation is always
an affecting moment and so it proves here. The Dresden clarinets sound
suitably organ-like although Shaham’s vibrato-laden statement of the phrase
Ich fahre sicher hinmit Frieden (I travel surely and in peace) –
even though marked
risoluto and
poco f rather
undermines the austere beauty of the moment. That being said the playing
from here to the end is very beautiful – Shaham sustains a marvellous final
(very) high G and the Dresden horns and trombones bring a rich warmth to the
closing bars that is very moving. Although it says this is a live
performance there is no applause.
The Hartmann
Concerto Funèbre for violin and strings that
completes this first disc is the least familiar concerto in the set. The
instrumental balance here is significantly better with just a string group.
The perspective of the soloist is much more natural and less oppressive.
Coincidentally or not Shaham turns in a performance that is more lyrical and
less forceful. Not that that means for a second that any emotional intensity
is lost. This sounds to me is much more like the Shaham of other recordings
– and all the better for that. He also directs the 23-strong Sejong
Soloists. Both Zehetmair – mentioned earlier - and
André Gertler with Ancerl and the Czech Philharmonic use
larger string groups which brings pluses and minuses. No small group can
match a larger one’s weight of tone but conversely there is an agility and a
sense of collective music-making an orchestra finds hard to equal. I rather
like Zehetmair’s bleached tone in the opening
Adagio but Shaham and
his team are without equal in the third movement
Allegro di molto.
The otherwise excellent Gertler recording — which now sounds rather old in
any case — is positively laboured here. The closing chorale makes for a
fascinating comparison with Berg’s treatment of the same form. Again here
Shaham’s sweet tone and effortless technique allows the music a serenity in
the midst of its mourning which is very moving. That being said the extra
tone provided by a larger string group such as that for Zehetmair means that
the sustained string chords beneath the soloist’s unearthly musings are even
more affecting, beautifully played as they are by the Sejong Soloists. It’s
a wonderful piece that deserves far greater attention.
The Stravinsky Concerto opens the second disc and although the composer
objected to the term ‘neo-classical’ if the glove fits….. Certainly by using
baroque titles for the movements;
Toccata,
Arias I and
II and
Capriccio it seems very clear that as the liner
puts it so well; “the concerto takes its place in his (Stravinsky’s) quest
for an ‘objective’ style of music: leaning on the old masters as the support
beams of a new modernity in response to the excesses of German
post-Romanticism. A music based on purely technical and formal
considerations, without needs of external message and devoid of
psychological or descriptive content.” Again, a forensically close
microphone balance is preferred but this works more in favour of the
performer’s coolly direct approach. My comparison here is with the famous
Decca recording from Kyung-Wha Chung with Previn and the LSO. Again, I feel
humour is an essential element of the score and Previn can be relied to
explore this facet to greater effect than Robertson directing the BBC
Symphony Orchestra. Conversely, it could be argued that Chung and Previn try
to impose a degree of Romanticism that Stravinsky wanted studiously avoided.
If pushed I would opt for Chung/Previn just because I find Robertson’s
accompaniment just too literal and the Decca recording with the soloist set
back in a more generous acoustic a less fatiguing experience.
With the centenary of Britten’s birth in 2013 there have been several new
recordings of the wonderful early Violin Concerto and reissue of well-known
older versions. All of which have reinforced its reputation – a point which
its presence in this collection including Berg and Stravinsky proves. The
orchestra here is the Boston Symphony under Juanjo Mena. The recording is
still close but warmer and the confidently spiky virtuosity of the writing
is meat and drink to Shaham. I have heard the orchestral accompaniment
played with more brittle precision than here – this is the best sounding of
the ‘larger’ concertos on the disc but there is a degree of languor in the
first movement especially that I’m not sure suits a young man’s work. Shaham
works hard to counteract this but I must admit to noticing passages of
note-spinning that have not felt so obvious in other hands. That being said
the central
vivace is exciting and Shaham’s cadenza has the sense
of fantasy that I enjoy about his playing at its considerable best.
As I have written before, at this time in his life, Britten seemed to
reserve the
Passacaglia form for some of his most personal and
profound utterances. Although Mena gets committed playing from the Boston
players, I do not find his pacing wholly convincing – too much too soon.
Stravinsky would no doubt be appalled but I hear an extra-musical weight, a
weary grandeur that eludes Mena. Shaham’s playing of the skittering
passagework in this finale is little short of phenomenal but the return of
the passacaglia material in the orchestra lacks the visceral impact it
should for all the burnished beauty of the low Boston brass. Shaham’s poise
in the final pages is a thing of wonder but I have a nagging sense than Mena
is not yet quite inside the work – certainly his accompaniment does not
reach anything like the imagination and insight of his soloist. Probably
more than any other concerto I can currently think of, each time I return to
this Britten concerto my sense that it is a truly great piece increases –
mature beyond its composer’s years.
By now, readers will have noted a certain pattern; each performance here
is good; with a player/musician as fine as Shaham how could it be anything
else. However, when considered on a piece by piece basis it is very hard to
feel that any individual performance – taking into consideration soloist,
accompaniment and engineering - would supplant those in an existing
collection or demand inclusion before others.
Canary Classics is Shaham’s own label and from the playright of the
various concertos it would seem that he has in effect licensed these
recordings from each orchestra.
The quality of the presentation cannot be praised too highly. The discs
are presented in a double cardboard gatefold with a handsome booklet pasted
to the inside front cover. This 37 page booklet is printed on high quality
paper in English and French and includes good programme notes. I had never
spotted Hartmann’s use of a Russian folksong used by Shostakovich in his
11
th Symphony before it was noted here. There you will also find
biographies, orchestral lists and numerous interesting photographs. Even the
chosen fonts are attractive and appropriate. It is called volume 1 so it can
be presumed that a second set is in the offing. Recording dates show that
this is a project that has been developing for some considerable time and as
such it serves as testimony to Shaham’s commitment and enduring skill.
I should say, that elsewhere this set has been highly praised on both
technical and musical levels. For those who collect this violinist’s
recordings there is much to admire. For those who do not require the ease of
these five works collected in one place it is hard not to advise more
judicious compiling from other sources.
Nick Barnard
Britten disacography & review index:
Violin concerto
From a reader
I read the review by Mr. Nick Barnard for the Gil Shaham Canary
Classics recording on your MusicWeb International website with
interest. However, as the daughter of Iso Briselli, the violinist
instrumental in the commission of the Barber Violin Concerto, I
must take issue with the claim that the violinist found the first
two movements "too easy". This is an outdated canard and does an
injustice to the violinist and composer alike. Readers should go
to the website
www.isobriselli.com. There
they will find an exhaustive account of what really occurred
between the persons involved, including actual letters by Mr.
Barber uncovered in the Fels archive in the Historical Society of
Pennsylvania. It would be greatly appreciated if readers would
examine the Briselli site in the interests of rectifying an
otherwise misleading impression.
Respectfully
Susanna
Briselli
