Antonín DVOŘÁK (1841-1904)
Othello, Op. 93 (1891-1892) [14:38]
Symphony No. 6 in D major, Op. 60 (1880) [43:54]
Symphony No. 7 in D minor, Op. 70 (1884-1885) [39:49]
London Philharmonic Orchestra/Yannick Nézet-Séguin
rec. live, Royal Festival Hall, London, 2008 (No. 7), 2016 (Othello, No. 6)
Reviewed as a 24/96 download from
eClassical
Pdf booklet included
LONDON PHILHARMONIC ORCHESTRA LPO-0095
[2 CDs: 98:21]
After some disappointing Berlioz and Richard Strauss from Rotterdam Yannick
Nézet-Séguin made good with a splendid recording of Saint-Saëns’s Third
Symphony and Poulenc’s Organ Concerto (review). That was also with the LPO, of which he was Principal Guest
Conductor from 2007 to 2014. Then he and Rafael Kubelík’s old band, the
Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, collaborated on a refreshing, highly
competitive account of Mahler’s First Symphony (review). Indeed, the latter was one of my Recordings of the Year for 2016.
Kubelík’s Dvořák, recorded with the BRSO in the 1960s and 1970s, is famed
for its extraordinary vigour and insight, though listeners may be pleased to
see that István Kertész’s equally celebrated Decca cycle of symphonies and
overtures/tone poems has been remastered and reissued on CD and BD-A (review). These two traversals cast a very long shadow. Take Mariss
Jansons’ Amsterdam and Munich Dvořák Eights, for instance (review); they’re decent enough, but like so many of their ilk they just
don’t stack up against the stalwarts. Jakob Hrůša’s album of overtures (review)
is similarly outclassed by Kubelík’s indispensable Trio box from DG.
Othello, the third piece in Dvořák’s planned triptych entitled Nature, Life and Love – the other two were In Nature’s Realm
and Carnival – gets a terrific outing here. The brass playing is
full and beautifully blended, the strings are smooth and the work’s echoes
and antiphonies come across very well indeed. Nézet-Séguin may focus on
tonal beauty and transparency, but that’s not pursued at the expense of
dramatic thrust; indeed, the sheer weight and attack of the LPO in the
tuttis is both thrilling and refined. I can’t recall a lovelier, more
poetic account of Othello than this. The sound is appealing and the
applause is appreciative.
Nézet-Séguin impressed the LPO with a memorable performance of the Sixth
Symphony in 2007, a piece they revisited in 2016. Dvořák wrote it for the
conductor Hans Richter and the Vienna Philharmonic, but after much
prevarication on Richter’s part the symphony was finally premiered by the
Czech Philharmonic under Adolf Čech. It’s a quietly radiant work, full of
incidental delights and dancing tunes. In the Allegro non tanto
Nézet-Séguin strikes a good balance between the movement’s more imposing
passages and its lilting, lightly sprung ones. Clarity is the keyword here,
and that gives the performance a glorious, ‘hear through’ aspect.
I can’t recall a reading of this symphony that sounds so Mendelssohnian,
and I feel that’s all to the good. In particular, I was bowled over by the
aristocracy of the LPO’s playing; they really are at the top of their game,
as recent concerts/recordings with their Principal Conductor Vladimir
Jurowski so amply demonstrate. There’s a shot-silk loveliness to the Adagio for instance – it’s so naturally paced and phrased – and with
it comes that elusive ‘you-are-there’ sensation. The well-balanced
recording, with good depth and spread, certainly helps in this regard;
thankfully, there’s none of the ‘souped up’ engineering that’s undeniably
exciting but disrupts the narrative.
This is Czech music, so the dance is all important. Nézet-Séguin brings
plenty of brio and bounce to the Furiant – what characterful
woodwind playing and elegant pizzicati – and how instinctively this
conductor shapes and scales the music. And while you will hear more
propulsive accounts of the spirited Finale elsewhere, you won’t find
one as deftly controlled or as affectionately done as this. I suppose what
I really admire about these performances – and the recordings – is just how
clean and unfussy they are. If only more recorded concerts worked this well.
There’s applause, but like the music-making it’s warm and well mannered.
The last Dvořák Seventh to come my way was Claus Peter Flor’s with the
Malaysian Phil, which also contains top-notch readings of Othello
and The Wild Dove (review). These were recorded before the acrimonious player/management dispute
that derailed the orchestra and put paid to their lucrative recording
contract with BIS. Among that team’s stand-out albums is a splendid
performance of Smetana’s Má vlast (review)
that can rub shoulders with the best, the various Kubelíks included. As
for their Seventh, it’s weighty and well recorded, and Flor underlines the
work’s equivocal moods at every turn. It’s not lugubrious though, and the
playing is never less than compelling.
Nézet-Séguin’s Seventh, recorded in 2008, is much less appealing than his
magnificent Sixth. Even at this early stage of his tenure with the LPO the
conductor seems to be aiming for transparency and a certain lightness of
tread. The Allegro maestoso comes off reasonably well, and the
players rise to the big moments with commendable style and alacrity. Again,
it’s a very ‘straight’ performance, but without the obvious rapport that
informs the other recordings here; indeed, it may even seem a little
cautious at times, notably in the Poco adagio.
Don’t get me wrong, Nézet-Séguin’s is a solid response to the Seventh; it’s
just unfortunate that it should appear in such illustrious company. And
while I can’t fault the playing, the get-up-and-go that infuses their Sixth
just isn’t there in this Seventh, especially in stretches of the Scherzo and Finale. That said, the audience loved it. The
recording is good, even though it sounds a tad opaque compared with the
later ones in the set. And, as so often with these LPO releases, the
liner-notes – by Stephen Johnson and Andrew Mellor – are lucid and well
laid out. A treat for older eyes.
A sensible yoking together of concerts recorded eight years apart; they
demonstrate just how special Nézet-Séguin’s relationship with the LPO has
become.
Dan Morgan
