Sep 1, 2011
Respighi: Roman Trilogy (CD review)
Italian musician, teacher, and composer Ottorino Respighi (1879-1936) wrote his Roman Trilogy after studying with Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, which may have been where he got the idea for creating such pictorial material. Riccardo Muti and his Philadelphia Orchestra offer up excellent interpretations of all three parts of the Trilogy, the Fountains, Pines, and Festivals of Rome. Perhaps they are not quite so distinctive as those of Fritz Reiner in his old Chicago Symphony recording of the Fountains and Pines (RCA or JVC) nor as smoothly sophisticated as those of Charles Dutoit and his Montreal Symphony (Decca), but they are quite well characterized, nevertheless.
Although Respighi wrote the Fountains of Rome first (1917), it's the Pines of Rome (1924) that opens the disc, possibly because it's the most-popular work Respighi ever composed. The Pines opens with a big splash of color in "The Pines of the Villa Borghese," which Muti treats in appropriately bright, splashy fashion. The fact is, Muti's accounts of the three scores are among the best, most vivid you'll find. Then the second movement, "Pines Near a Catacomb," is initially gloomy until Muti opens the music up to a sincere melancholy, longing, and finally regal dirge. After that, Muti makes the third movement, "del Giancolo" pines, with its song of the nightingale, as lovely as I've heard, the tone relaxed and serene. It is a prelude, really, to the big finale, the "Pines of the Appian Way," possibly the single most-famous thing Respighi ever created. The march of ancient Roman soldiers as they return home along the Appian Way interrupts the tranquility of Nature and the chirping birds. Here, Muti captures the mounting urgency of the music, moment by moment, pretty well until it reaches a fevered climax, and Muti pulls out all the stops.
The Fountains of Rome are more festive and, for me, more colorful and descriptive than the Pines of Rome. Each of the four movements describes a celebrated fountain in Rome, the music, as in the other works, playing without a break. We hear noises of the country, noises of the city, noises of mystical creatures, and noises of crowds, among many other things, the music finally fading away into silence as night falls. In the Fountains, Muti is even more expressive than he was in the Pines. I love the way he flirts with Respighi's flashes of light and shadow throughout, and in the "Trevi al meriggio" fountain, Muti is at his best.
The Roman Festivals (1929) are for me (and probably many other listeners) the least-successful parts of the Trilogy. Respighi appears to have been trying to top himself in the work, and the music becomes somewhat hectic and bombastic as a result. At least Muti doesn't vulgarize the score, but there's not a lot he can do with it in any case.
EMI recorded the music at Memorial Hall, Fairmount Park, Philadelphia, in November of 1984. The engineers appear to give us on this 2011 reissue a transfer made for their first CD release of the material back in 1985. I could hear no differences in direct comparisons. Still, there's nothing wrong with that, since the sound is fairly decent. There is a forward quality in the upper midrange, however, that results in a certain degree of shrillness at times; it may or may not distract one from the performances, and in any case it comes and goes. The celebrated Philadelphia strings provide a velvety sheen, yet the sound does not seem so well upholstered as from some other recordings of this music. There's a slightly lean tendency to the EMI Philadelphia sound most of the time, with a wide range, solid impact, and reasonably deep bass. Still, it's not as impressive sonically as the Reiner disc I alluded to earlier, recorded, amazingly, in 1959.
JJP
Meet the Staff
Understand, I'm just an everyday guy reacting to something I love. And I've been doing it for a very long time, my appreciation for classical music starting with the musical excerpts on the Big Jon and Sparkie radio show in the early Fifties and the purchase of my first recording, The 101 Strings Play the Classics, around 1956. In the late Sixties I began teaching high school English and Film Studies as well as becoming interested in hi-fi, my audio ambitions graduating me from a pair of AR-3 speakers to the Fulton J's recommended by The Stereophile's J. Gordon Holt. In the early Seventies, I began writing for a number of audio magazines, including Audio Excellence, Audio Forum, The Boston Audio Society Speaker, The American Record Guide, and from 1976 until 2008, The $ensible Sound, for which I served as Classical Music Editor.
Today, I'm retired from teaching and use a pair of bi-amped VMPS RM40s loudspeakers for my listening. In addition to writing for the Classical Candor blog, I served as the Movie Review Editor for the Web site Movie Metropolis (formerly DVDTown) from 1997-2013. Music and movies. Life couldn't be better.
For nearly 30 years I was the editor of The $ensible Sound magazine and a regular contributor to both its equipment and recordings review pages. I would not presume to present myself as some sort of expert on music, but I have a deep love for and appreciation of many types of music, "classical" especially, and have listened to thousands of recordings over the years, many of which still line the walls of my listening room (and occasionally spill onto the furniture and floor, much to the chagrin of my long-suffering wife). I have always taken the approach as a reviewer that what I am trying to do is simply to point out to readers that I have come across a recording that I have found of interest, a recording that I think they might appreciate my having pointed out to them. I suppose that sounds a bit simple-minded, but I know I appreciate reading reviews by others that do the same for me — point out recordings that they think I might enjoy.
For readers who might be wondering about what kind of system I am using to do my listening, I should probably point out that I do a LOT of music listening and employ a variety of means to do so in a variety of environments, as I would imagine many music lovers also do. Starting at the more grandiose end of the scale, the system in which I do my most serious listening comprises Marantz CD 6007 and Onkyo CD 7030 CD players, NAD C 658 streaming preamp/DAC, Legacy Audio PowerBloc2 amplifier, and a pair of Legacy Audio Focus SE loudspeakers. I occasionally do some listening through pair of Sennheiser 560S headphones. I miss the excellent ELS Studio sound system in our 2016 Acura RDX (now my wife's daily driver) on which I had ripped more than a hundred favorite CDs to the hard drive, so now when driving my 2024 Honda CRV Sport L Hybrid, I stream music from my phone through its adequate but hardly outstanding factory system. For more casual listening at home when I am not in my listening room, I often stream music through a Roku Streambar Pro system (soundbar plus four surround speakers and a 10" sealed subwoofer) that has surprisingly nice sound for such a diminutive physical presence and reasonable price. Finally, at the least grandiose end of the scale, I have an Ultimate Ears Wonderboom II Bluetooth speaker and a pair of Google Pro Earbuds for those occasions where I am somewhere by myself without a sound system but in desperate need of a musical fix. I just can’t imagine life without music and I am humbly grateful for the technologies that enable us to enjoy it in so many wonderful ways.
Among my early childhood memories are those of listening to my mother playing records (some even 78 rpm ones!) of both classical music and jazz tunes. I suppose that her love of music was transmitted genetically, and my interest was sustained by years of playing in rock bands – until I realized that this was no way to make a living. The interest in classical music was rekindled in grad school when the university FM station serving as background music for studying happened to play the Brahms First Symphony. As the work came to an end, it struck me forcibly that this was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard, and from that point on, I never looked back. This revelation was to the detriment of my studies, as I subsequently spent way too much time simply listening, but music has remained a significant part of my life. These days, although I still can tell a trumpet from a bassoon and a quarter note from a treble clef, I have to admit that I remain a nonexpert. But I do love music in general and classical music in particular, and I enjoy sharing both information and opinions about it.
The audiophile bug bit about the same time that I returned to classical music. I’ve gone through plenty of equipment, brands from Audio Research to Yamaha, and the best of it has opened new audio insights. Along the way, I reviewed components, and occasionally recordings, for The $ensible Sound magazine. Most recently I’ve moved to my “ultimate system” consisting of a BlueSound Node streamer, an ancient Toshiba multi-format disk player serving as a CD transport, Legacy Wavelet II DAC/preamp/crossover, dual Legacy PowerBloc2 amps, and Legacy Signature SE speakers (biamped), all connected with decently made, no-frills cables. With the arrival of CD and higher resolution streaming, that is now the source for most of my listening.
I started listening to and studying classical music in earnest nearly three decades ago. This interest grew naturally out of my training as a pianist. I am now a musicologist by profession, specializing in British and other symphonic music of the 19th and 20th centuries. My scholarly work has been published in major music journals, as well as in other outlets. Current research focuses include twentieth-century symphonic historiography, and the music of Jean Sibelius, Ralph Vaughan Williams, and Malcolm Arnold.
I am honored to contribute writings to Classical Candor. In an age where the classical recording industry is being subjected to such profound pressures and changes, it is more important than ever for those of us steeped in this cultural tradition to continue to foster its love and exposure. I hope that my readers can find value, no matter how modest, in what I offer here.
I initially embraced classical music in 1954 when I mistuned my car radio and heard the Heifetz recording of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto. That inspired me to board the new "hi-fi" DIY bandwagon. In 1957 I joined one of the pioneer semiconductor makers and spent the next 32 years marketing transistors and microcircuits to military contractors. Home audio DIY projects remained a personal passion until 1989 when we created our own new photography equipment company. I later (2012) revived my interest in two channel audio when we "downsized" our life and determined that mini-monitors + paired subwoofers were a great way to mate fine music with the space constraints of condo living.
Visitors that view my technical papers on this site may wonder why they appear here, rather than on a site that features audio equipment reviews. My reason is that I tried the latter, and prefer to publish for people who actually want to listen to music; not to equipment. My focus is in describing what's technically beneficial to assure that the sound of the system will accurately replicate the source input signal (i. e. exhibit high accuracy) without inordinate cost and complexity. Conversely, most of the audiophiles of today strive to achieve sound that's euphonic, i.e. be personally satisfying. In essence, audiophiles seek sound that's consistent with their desire; the music is simply a test signal.
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