Do I see a trend here? Well, it’s a trend that’s been
developing for the past decade or more: Smaller record companies are licensing
older recorded material from bigger companies and re-releasing them. Think of PentaTone, Newton Classics, FIM,
HDTT, and now Brilliant Classics. The case in question here is Jean Martinon’s
recordings of the complete Saint-Saens symphonies, which Martinon recorded for
EMI in the early-to-mid Seventies. The thing is, it’s not as though the EMI
editions are hard to find. A quick glance at Amazon shows there are actually
four different EMI editions available new, two from the parent company, one
from EMI France, and one from EMI Japan. Yet in 2012, EMI apparently licensed
the recordings to Brilliant Classics, and they all sound pretty much the same.
Whatever, you can never have enough editions of these fine Martinon
performances, so the more, the merrier.
French composer and pianist Camille Saint-Saens
(1835-1921) wrote five symphonies; however, only one of them, the Third “Organ” Symphony, became at all
popular. Even so, its popularity is so immense, it doesn’t matter that the
others have found relatively little favor. They’re still interesting, but quite
overshadowed by their big brother. It’s good to have them all together in one
package if for no other reason than curiosity’s sake. Who knows; a person
familiar only with the Third might
soon find a new favorite among the others.
Anyway, Saint-Saens wrote his first two symphonies, the Symphony in A major (c. 1850) and the Symphony No. 1 in E flat (1853), while
he was still in his teens. Then, he wrote the Symphony in F “Urbs Roma” in 1856 for a writing competition, which
may explain why they aren’t quite as mature and well developed as the later
works. Even the Symphony No. 2 in A minor
(1859) is a relatively early, youthful piece, especially when you consider that
the composer didn’t write his monumental Third
Symphony until 1886. Thus, what we have are four symphonies written when
Saint-Saens was in his teens and twenties, and the final one over a quarter of
a century later when he was in his early fifties.
Disc one of this two-disc set begins with the little Symphony in A, unpublished in the
composer’s lifetime and seldom recorded. That’s OK; I doubt that anyone could
do it more justice than Martinon. There’s plenty of youthful vitality in the
work, and Martinon seems to delight unapologetically in it. There’s a lot of Mozart
and Mendelssohn in the music, too, which Martinon enjoys as well.
Next come the first two numbered symphonies that
Saint-Saens published. Symphony No. 1
begins with a delightfully lilting Adagio
that shows the influence of Schumann. The second movement is reminiscent of
Bizet; the slow movement of Berlioz; and the finale typical of much French
ceremonial music. Martinon pulls all of it off with finesse, making it appear
more original and substantial than it probably really is.
Then, disc one concludes with the Symphony No. 2, the best of which comes early, in the
first-movement Allegro. It displays a
lively seriousness not found in Saint-Saens’s early works. The symphony soon
transitions into a more-temperate and completely charming Adagio. The Scherzo and
finale return to the energy of the first movement, where Martinon maintains the
music’s Mendelssohnian mood and style.
Disc two opens with the unpublished Symphony in F, subtitled “Urbs Roma” (Rome city or city of Rome).
Martinon manages to infuse it with a grand sweep that is really quite engaging,
especially in the vibrant if slightly dark Scherzo.
Still, the work is really just a prelude to the composer’s monumental “Organ” Symphony that follows.
With Martinon’s handling of the Symphony No. 3 in C minor, we get an elegant, graceful, refined
reading. Not that it doesn’t catch fire, but if you want something more dashing
and exciting, I recommend Charles Munch and the Boston Symphony Orchestra (RCA
or JVC) or Louis Fremaux and the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra (EMI),
who are more explosive in the work. Nevertheless, Martinon pumps up the
adrenaline levels, too, while providing a relaxed, expansive, wholly
sympathetic interpretation.
The recordings, which EMI made in 1972 and 1974 for the
four early symphonies at the Salle Wagram, Paris, and in 1975 for the Third Symphony at the Eglise Saint-Louis
de Invalides, Paris, sound uniformly good, if a tad on the warm, soft side. The
stereo spread is wide, although the stage depth seems somewhat limited, except
in the Third, where it opens up a
little more. While the bass could be deeper for the organ, it’s a minor
concern. Dynamics also seem a bit restricted; again, not to worry. Overall,
this is an extraordinarily smooth, accommodating sound.
JJP
