Franz Joseph HAYDN (1732-1809)
Cello Concerto in C, Hob.Viib:1 [25:05]
Symphony No. 6 in D, “Le Matin”, Hob.I:6 [24:21]
Harpsichord Concerto in D, Hob.XVIII:ii [19:34]
Daniel Yeadon (cello)
Erin Helyard (harpsichord)
Australian Haydn Ensemble/Skye McIntosh
rec. 16 & 19 December 2015 (Harpsichord Concerto), 21-24 March 2016 (Cello Concerto & Symphony), Eugene Goossens Hall, Australian Broadcasting Corporation, Sydney
ABC CLASSICS 481 2806 [69:25]
This is the debut disc of the Australian Haydn Ensemble, which
Skye McIntosh founded in 2011. According to the booklet, this is one of Australia’s
leading period-instrument ensembles, and it certainly takes its period instrument
credentials very seriously indeed, rejoicing in the thin and somewhat desiccated
sound, which was such a feature of period-instrument ensembles a few decades
back, but which has, in recent times, become less frequently heard on disc
as these ensembles now favour a generally warmer and more robust sound. But
there will be many who enjoy this clear, uncluttered and direct style of playing,
and Skye McIntosh certainly leads by example, presenting a violin sound which
while at times thin to the point of fragility, encompasses a generous dynamic
range, made all the more impressive by the almost transparent quality of the
orchestral textures. On this disc the ensemble numbers around 20 players in
a 4+3+3+3+1 string formation.
The soloist for the Cello Concerto in C, Daniel Yeadon, is the ensemble’s
principal cellist, so it is only to be expected that his style of playing
and musical outlook perfectly matches that of the ensemble as a whole. The
result is a very fine performance of the Concerto, with more a sense of partnership
and mutual support between soloist and ensemble than one of dialogue. A light
and discreet continuo from harpsichordist Neal Peres Da Costa offers the most
subtle of support to the solo lines. The first two movements pass uneventfully,
but McIntosh leads off into the finale at such a galloping pace, whipped on
by percussive downbeats, that the whole thing takes on the character of a
hunting field chase. At times Yeadon seems to struggle to keep his head above
water, and there are moments in the extended bouts of semiquaver passagework
around 3:30 where he seems about to come unstuck; luckily he never does.
It might have made for a pleasing uniformity of tonality, had the recording
included Haydn’s D major Cello Concerto rather than the C major one,
but the thinking behind this programming seems to be that Joseph Weigl, for
whom the C major Concerto was written, was the cellist for whom Haydn also
wrote the substantial cello solos in the Symphony “Le Matin”.
So it makes for a nice touch of authenticity for Yeadon to be leading the
cello section of the orchestra in this recording. There is a very good sunrise
crescendo at the start of the Symphony, even if, with the shallow
orchestral sound, this sun rises through a thin mist; this is a winter’s
sunrise with little heat behind it rather than one presaging the full blaze
of a summer’s day.
The clarity of sound is the most obvious thing here, and the small wind flurries
emerge effortlessly from the heart of the ensemble - notable among these are
the chirping theme of the 1st movement from the enchanting Baroque
flute of Melissa Farrow and the robust horn calls from Darryl Poulsen and
Dorée Dixon - but McIntosh’s delicate dynamic shading also gives the
whole Symphony a pleasing freshness and vitality. As in the Cello Concerto,
a tendency to kick out downbeat accents becomes a little annoying in the fast
movements.
More concerning to me is the move from harpsichord to organ for the Symphony’s
slow movement. This gives this a somewhat churchy feel, which I’m not
at all sure suits the musical context. But more than that, I question the
legitimacy of the organ’s use here. The booklet suggests it is legitimised
by a comment that Haydn “gave the tempi from the organ” in a concert
in Oxford, which “included symphonies”; but that hardly serves
as a ringing endorsement for its use here. However, it does make for a most
interesting overall effect, especially in the deliciously pattering staccato
chords which beautifully underpin McIntosh’s flights of idyllic violin
fantasy, following in the footsteps of Haydn’s own violinist Luigi Tomasini.
The bubbly bassoon solo in the trio of the 3rd movement is superbly
played here by Simon Rickard, and it is not really his fault that the steam
seems to run out of this passage as it progresses; McIntosh’s great
big rallentandi are difficult to negotiate in the context of a performance
which otherwise has such a strong sense of forward momentum.
Questions of legitimacy again surface in the keyboard concerto. All the evidence
seems to point to this work having been conceived for the early piano; notably
that in the possession of a certain Mademoiselle Hartenstein. The novelty
of a new instrument possibly explains Haydn’s return to a genre, he
had all but abandoned some time earlier, while the central movement seems
to demand the kind of dynamic shading only possible on the piano. Certainly,
as Erin Helyard points out, it was originally published for either harpsichord
or piano, but we all know that publishing expediency sometimes overrules musical
intentions, and nothing in this performance convinces me that the harpsichord
is a better choice of instrument for this concerto than the fortepiano.
These matters aside, Helyard gives a fluent and rhythmically compelling account,
the chattering left hand chords of the first movement propelling it along
like the throb of an outboard motor. The harpsichord used is a pretty hefty
affair – two manuals built in 1996 by Andrew Garlick of Somerset and
modelled on a French instrument of 1749 – and Helyard uses its full
resources to add plenty of colour and variety to this performance, while cleverly
making use of touch in the central movement to imitate the sustaining effect
of a modern piano. As in the Cello Concerto McIntosh drives the finale along
at an absolutely cracking pace, but Helyard releases the pressure with some
well-placed breathing points, and the sense of Gypsy music (to which Helyard
refers in his booklet notes) is brilliantly evoked in the often fiery changes
of speed and musical direction, aided by the impressive response and agility
of the Australian Haydn Ensemble.
Marc Rochester
Previous review: David
Barker
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