Charles IVES (1874-1954)
Complete Symphonies
Symphony No 1 (1895-1898) [36:24]
Symphony No 2 (1900-1902) [35:49]
Symphony No 3 ‘The Camp Meeting’ (1904) [21:21]
Symphony No 4 (1912-1925) [30:53]
Los Angeles Master Chorale
Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra/Gustavo Dudamel (with Marta Gardolińska
in No 4)
rec. live, February 2020, Walt Disney Concert Hall, Los Angeles, USA
Reviewed as a 24/96 download
No booklet
DEUTSCHE GRAMMOPHON 483 9505 [2 CDs: 124:00]
It’s good to have Ives’s four numbered symphonies in one place. This new
set joins the even more comprehensive 4-CD box of the composer’s orchestral
works with the Chicago and Concertgebouw Orchestras conducted by Michael Tilson Thomas
(Sony 19439788332). Anyone familiar with the individual performances,
recorded between 1981 and 1989, will know that MTT is a committed and
compelling Ivesian. Sir Andrew Davis also excels in this repertoire, as his
memorable ‘Ives Weekend’ at the Barbican in January 1996 so amply
demonstrates. I’ve reviewed his recent Chandos cycle with the Melbourne
Symphony, which, despite uncompetitive accounts of
Nos 1 and 2,
delivers fine ones of
Nos 3 and 4.
And don’t overlook Andrew Litton and the Dallas SO’s traversal, set down
between 2004 and 2006 (Hyperion CDA67525/67540). These idiomatic, superbly
recorded live performances are central to any self-respecting Ives
collection. Ditto Ludovic Morlot’s very recent - albeit incomplete - live
series with the Seattle Symphony (SSM). Here is my
review
of what ‘Sir Mixalot’ has recorded to date. That soubriquet derives from
the Frenchman’s penchant for eclectic programmes; his creative Ives
concerts are no exception.
I first encountered the Venezuelan conductor Gustavo Dudamel at the BBC
Proms in 2007, where he and his Simón Bolívar Youth Orchestra presented an
intoxicating selection of music from - and inspired by - South America.
Fiesta,
released in 2008 - and one of my top picks for that year - is a wonderful
reminder of an extraordinary night. And while the Dude’s Mahler recordings
for Deutsche Grammophon are somewhat variable, his ‘Resurrection’,
performed with the newly renamed Simón Bolívar Symphony Orchestra at the
Proms in 2011, was simply unforgettable. Likewise the LAPO/SBSO
Eighth,
filmed in Caracas in 2012. (And yes, that was a Recording of the Year as
well.) Admittedly, Dudamel may have given us a few duds, but, as I’ve
indicated, he’s also capable of top-notch performances. As for his forays
into American music, they’ve been well received on these pages. John Quinn
welcomed his contributions to the Berliner Philharmoniker’s
John Adams Edition
- a Recording of the Month - and Göran Forsling found much to enjoy in the
2-CD set,
Celebrating John Williams,
recorded live with the LAPO in 2019. Fine composers both, but Charles
Ives is perhaps more of a challenge. Which begs the question: is the Dude
up to the task?
Well, if his account of Symphony No 1 is anything to go
by, the answer is an emphatic yes. The Allegro is alive with incident and
character, that recurring theme disarming in its blend of ease and
elegance. Goodness, how fresh and unassuming this music sounds, the LAPO in
splendid form. (Indeed, I’ve not heard them play this well in ages.) And
even at this early stage, it’s clear Dudamel really knows his way around
the score; pacing is natural, phrases are attractively shaped and dynamics
are nicely calibrated. Add to that a lightness of touch and it’s little
wonder the work feels newly minted. The Adagio is tenderly done, and the
Scherzo: Vivace has a Puckish charm that’s impossible to resist. The
Venezuelan then delivers a beautifully sprung, cannily constructed finale,
whose closing celebrations are all the more effective for being so crisply
executed. Others are more unbuttoned here - Litton springs to mind - but
then Dudamel never pushes too hard at times like this. As for the recording
itself, the soundstage is both broad and deep, with players given plenty of
room to breathe. (A far cry from the close, sometimes relentless
presentation of the Paavo Järvi/Frankfurt RSO set of Schmidt symphonies I
reviewed last year.)
If anything, Symphony No 2 is even more alluring, the
dark bass-led string figures in the Andante moderato wonderfully
expressive. Indeed, I’d say the LAPO strings - so refined and full-bodied -
outplay their rivals in New York, Chicago, Dallas and Seattle. The
well-blended brass section is also in a class of its own, Ives’s chorales
superbly rendered. The spry little Allegro that follows is a delight, its
contrasting visions of church steeples and marching bands as vivid as one
could wish. The orchestra then gives gentle and affecting voice to the
symphony’s central movement, marked Adagio cantabile. (That cello solo is
simply gorgeous.) The Lento maestoso has real heft, and the finale is
supremely well paced. With that concert still fresh in my mind, I revisited
Leonard Bernstein’s classic CBS recording of the piece, made with the New
York Phil in the 1960s. Two things struck me at once: first, how much Lenny
misses in this music, and, second, just how much the Dude reveals.
Goodness, Ives performances have come a long way in that time.
I’m happy to report that all the fine qualities that define Dudamel’s Ives
thus far persist in his open-hearted account of Symphony No 3, ‘The Camp Meeting’. The conductor is at
his sensitive - and intuitive - best, his approach yielding and
affectionate but never mawkish. ‘The Old Folks Gathering’
has a genteel
charm, the scene observed with a mix of familiarity and keen-eyed interest.
As before, the Dude brings out all the score’s colours and competing
strands, not to mention the symphony’s guileless, unassuming nature. (In
fact, I can’t recall this music better pitched than it is here.)
‘Children’s Day’, a lively Allegro, is deftly done, its transparent
textures perfectly complemented by a ‘hear-through’ recording that picks
out every nudge and nuance. As if that weren’t impressive enough, these
ardent Angelenos really excel in the final movement, ‘Communion’. At times
they sound like a large chamber group, the players closely attuned to each
other, their collective progress and point of arrival never in doubt.
Really, this is music-making of an uncommon order, the closing moments as
radiant - and reposeful - as I’ve ever heard them.
And now for the pičce de résistance, Symphony No 4, with its celebrated fusion of hymns,
marches and popular tunes. A preliminary listen confirmed that Dudamel and
his assistant conductor, Marta Gardolińska, have everything firmly under
control. (To be fair, I’ve yet to come across a performance that wasn’t properly managed, but then that’s only half the battle.)
The start of the Prelude is wonderfully sonorous, the Master Chorale’s
singing incisive and idiomatic. At this point, and at many others, the
performance seems all the more rewarding for being well prepared and
sensibly executed. Take the organ, for instance: where others may strive
for an overwhelming presence, the Venezuelan prefers a more discreet
balance that works very well in the context of his reading as a whole.
Alas, discretion isn’t an option in the dissonances and contrasting rhythms
of Comedy, although even at its loudest and most complex, every element of
Ives’s score is effortlessly caught by DG’s recording team. (As a rule I
like to credit those in the control room, but that’s not possible without a
booklet.) The Fugue is full of feeling, the strings digging deep, their
delivery as sure and seamless as ever. In common with the other
performances here, the level of Dudamel’s authority and insight is just
extraordinary. As for the finale, there’s an irresistibility to his reading
- a deep, tugging undertow, if you will - that few rivals can match. The
choir and organ are simply magnificent at the end. The applause has been
edited out of these concerts, but I’d wager all of them, the last one
especially, were enthusiastically received.
Without doubt, the most important Ives release in years; world-class
playing too, with a sound to match.
Dan Morgan
