Sergei RACHMANINOV (1873-1943)
Symphony No.2 in E minor, Op 27 (1907) [64:21]
Tokyo Symphony Orchestra/Jonathan Nott
rec. live, 3 November 2018, Suntory Hall, Tokyo
EXTON OVCL-00691 SACD [64:21]
Jonathan Nott has been Music Director of the Tokyo Symphony Orchestra since 2014. Until relatively recently, it hasn’t been a partnership – at least through their recordings – that has struck me as one that has much going for it. Their Exton recordings of Bruckner symphonies (Nr’s. 5, 8 and 9) have been at best uncontroversial, but at their worst lifeless. The Nott/Tokyo Russian recordings – a Rite of Spring and a Shostakovich Tenth – weren’t dull but that is perhaps the best that can be said of them.
And then this Rachmaninov Second came along. It is, firstly, beautifully played. But it also blazes and scorches with drama and lacks none of the voltage and passion a great Rachmaninov Second should. It isn’t always the case that in high octane performances of this symphony the vividness and transparency of the score will remain intact; it does here. Indeed, this is an extraordinarily pellucid performance, especially since it is given live without the safety net of the studio to rescue the orchestra from tipping into a mire of muddiness.
The only thing that really should hamper this performance is the slow tempo of it. At just under 65-minutes this is one of the slowest Second’s on record; it sounds anything but that, however. All of that extra length is in the first movement, which comes in at 24:29; elsewhere Jonathan Nott is uncannily close – often to the second – to André Previn’s 1973 recording with the LSO on EMI; indeed, one wonders if Nott has this performance seared into his memory note-by-note. Many of the more expansive performances of this symphony are slow because they take the first movement exposition repeat; Nott doesn’t so all of that added time is entirely given over to a Largo – Allegro molto which is simply broader. That excess might well be dangerous for a conductor were it not for the fact that here the conductor knows exactly what to do with the extra time. The climaxes, for example, are built up with inexorable force; this is not what you get in Simon Rattle’s new recording with the LSO. The risk Nott has taken is just breathtaking.
Not all symphonies benefit from a repeat – Schubert’s “Great”, for example. Rachmaninov’s Second is another. Sanderling and the Philharmonia, in a gargantuan recording, are so glacial the music stops in its track; Rozdestvensky and the London Symphony Orchestra are also hampered by the repeat. Vernon Handley, with the Royal Philharmonic, and Jacek Kaspszyk, with the Philharmonia, both take it but neither performance unduly suffers. Svetlanov, a law unto himself, never took the first movement repeat – although if he had, his timings for his later performances of this symphony would have been enormous for this movement. Svetlanov poured all of his extra time into the Adagio which – in at least two of his performances – with the Philharmonia and the NHKSO – exceeded 17-minutes. For all their breadth, these Svetlanov recordings are powerful statements. Nott’s calculation is that his recording of the symphony would likely be closer to the Svetlanov model than the Sanderling.
There are performances which growl darker and more sinisterly than Nott’s as we hear the symphony open; that very first bar can be as treacherous for an orchestra as the first bar of Strauss’ Ein Heldenleben. It doesn’t take long, however, for the cellos and basses to get in their stride and their impressive weight is one of the features of this recording which ranks it among the best – a lower string section which seems to tow the rest of the orchestra along like a great battleship. That Herculean heft lifts the violins – not always the richest sounding instrument in Japanese orchestras – so we get a bigger, lusher Romantic sound. The paradigm performance for this kind of muscular and potent acoustic is Previn’s London Symphony Orchestra – magnificent in the 1970s and still ravishing today.
That Previn recording of this symphony is unmistakable; just as an LSO performance under Previn, whether in the studio or live, is so obviously from this conductor and orchestra. What he did – and how he did it – with the orchestra was extraordinarily distinctive; indeed, thirty years after Previn left the LSO he would still get the orchestra to play this symphony as they did in the 1970s. One noticeable feature of this Nott/Tokyo Rachmaninov Second is the distinctive Previn feel to this performance. You hear it in his shaping of the orchestra’s phrasing, in the fluidity of the music’s expressiveness and a very particular kind of Tsarist opulence. As with Previn, the attention to detail is done with extraordinary care, but it’s not overwrought. There have been plenty of Japanese recordings of this symphony – by Akiyama, Inoue, Mori and Yamada – but none are as exceptional as this one. One might have expected Alexander Lazarev with the Japan Philharmonic to have made a more authentic recording than they did. A live recording with André Previn and the NHKSO from 2007 is a beautifully nuanced performance for some people, and under-powered for others. Nott looks neither to late Previn, nor to the kind of direct and icy conducting favoured by Lazarev.
The plangency of the Tokyo clarinet in the Adagio is not atypical of Nott’s treatment of the woodwind throughout this symphony; it is atypical of Japanese woodwind playing in a lot of the performances of this symphony we have from Japan. Svetlanov, as late as 2007, would produce a solo clarinet from his NHK player that was as sour as vinegar. The Tokyo Symphony’s woodwind have a glorious blend of jewel-like refinement and ravishing warmth. The golden-toned, rounded brass you’ll hear from Nott is not what you’ll hear on the Svetlanov recording either. Nott can give his horns a very rugged feel (you can hear this just before the recapitulation in the first movement), but they remain entirely in control sounding that way. Equally, you’ll hear a firmer string tone on the violins that soar upwards in fifths and sixths on this Nott recording – again closer to Previn than Svetlanov. One could argue that the Previn is a more controlled performance simply because it was made in the studio but Previn and the LSO would give a performance of this symphony – at Salzburg in 1977 – which was just as controlled.
Nott gives both an opulent and a fluid account of this symphony. What we get is a narrative which is entirely organic; an Allegro vivace which bounces straight off the closing notes of the Adagio like a massive volley of energy, and a hugely imposing opening to the symphony – more monumental than most in conveying the powerful sonority which underpins this work – which, rather than holding back the music, uses that power to harness climaxes of cataclysmic momentum. The space Nott allows his players could spill over into a narcoleptic loss of tension – and yet the codas to both the first and last movements are thrilling (and Nott doesn’t add the dreaded timpani to the double-basses at the ending of the first movement coda – as Svetlanov did).
Exton’s SACD sound is excellent, if not quite as good as some of their recordings in the past. The orchestra is recorded with exceptional clarity, however and, as always with Exton, the lower frequencies are somewhat better captured than the upper ones. Although this is a live recording, there is very little audience noise to suggest it was captured in a concert hall.
This symphony now has a vast discography and there are many fine recordings of it, if not many great ones. Previn/LSO on EMI will always be recommendable, and I think the Kaspszyk/Philharmonia is underrated. This Nott/Tokyo performance is one of the best to have appeared for quite some years.
Marc Bridle
