Also, The Oceanides;
Pohjola’s Daughter. Sir Mark Elder, Halle Orchestra. Halle Concerts Society CD HLL
7516.
Is it the “Halle Orchestra,” “The Halle,” or simply “Halle”
these days? I’m never sure. The disc’s accompanying booklet and case list the
orchestra only as “Halle.” Nothing more. Like Cher. Or Liberace. I dunno. In
any case, it’s the oldest orchestra in the U.K. and the fourth-oldest in the
world, founded by pianist and conductor Charles Halle in 1857. It makes its
home in Manchester, England, playing under its current Music Director since
2000, Sir Mark Elder. Maestro Elder rather quickly endeared himself not only to
me but to the world with his sensitive, engaging musical interpretations. This
is saying a lot considering that the Halle has worked under such distinguished
conductors as Hans Richter, Sir Hamilton Harty, Sir Thomas Beecham, Sir Malcolm
Sargent, Sir John Barbirolli, Stanislaw Skrowaczewski, James Laughran, Kent
Nagano, and others. On the present disc, Maestro Elder gives us the Second Symphony and a couple of tone
poems by Finnish composer Jean Sibelius (1865-1957).
The disc opens with the two tone poems, first Pohjola's Daughter and then The Oceanides. One can tell from the
outset that Elder is going for a lighter, brighter mood than one usually hears
in these pieces. Given the dark nature of the former work and the broad
proportions of the latter, Elder takes them both in a more sprightly vein than I
thought I would like. Still, I found them pleasingly listenable even without
the substance I had been expecting. While the seemingly cheerful tone may not
be entirely appropriate, it adds an unanticipated dimension to the works.
Sibelius wrote his Symphony
No. 2 in D, Op. 43 in 1902, and it has subsequently become one of the man’s
most-popular pieces, perhaps the most-popular of all judging by the number of
recordings you’ll find of it. Although the public quickly dubbed it his
“Symphony of Independence,” no one’s sure whether the composer actually
intended any symbolic significance in the piece. Even so, it ends in a
gloriously victorious finale that surely draws out a feeling of freedom and
self-reliance in the music.
Like the two tone poems that precede it on the disc, the Second Symphony, too, seems somewhat
lightweight under Maestro Elder's direction. Certainly, it begins well,
tripping daintily along as it should in a most sunny style. But it never seems
to build to as powerful a climax as it should. Nevertheless, it's hard to
resist those heroic fanfares Sibelius keeps throwing at us.
The composer marked the second movement an Andante (moderately slow) and ma rubato (with a flexible tempo) to
allow the conductor more personal expression. Yet I didn't hear it in the
music; it all seemed of a piece to me, with not much quickening or slackening
of the pace. Well, I shouldn't complain: The orchestra plays convincingly, if
not with the power or richness of a Berlin or London Philharmonic; and Elder's
affection for the music appears evident in every note.
In fact, Elder's handling of the third-movement Scherzo is the highlight of the program.
It's an appropriately dazzling display of orchestral pyrotechnics, interrupted
from time to time by a slower, more melancholy theme that works beautifully.
The only serious disappoint I had was with the Finale. It should be explosively
radiant, thrilling, and patriotic. Again, I didn't hear it. It seemed much too
mild-mannered to me, much too gracefully lyrical where it should have been
dramatically propulsive. Of the five other recordings I had on hand, Elder's
was by far the longest and least intense. Maybe he was trying his best to be
different and not give us a stereotypical reading of the music as nationalistic
propaganda. If so, I commend his initiative, even if I feel he misplaced it.
Please, give me the thrills; it's more fun.
So, as I say, the problem for Elder’s recording is that
there is already such heady competition in the Symphony, it rather makes the present disc irrelevant. Sir John
Barbirolli gave us a definitive Second
with the Royal Philharmonic (Chesky Gold) and another with this very orchestra
(EMI); HDTT recently remastered Pierre Monteux’s LSO account; George Szell’s
Concertgebouw rendering still sounds attractive (Philips); Herbert von Karajan
and his Berlin Philharmonic produce greater passion (EMI); Colin Davis and the
LSO show more authority (RCA); and Osmo Vanska and the Lahti Symphony seem more
dynamic (BIS). Against such formidable rivals, Elder’s disc, as good as parts
of it are, doesn’t quite stack up.
These days the Halle Orchestra release their recordings
under their own label. They made Pohjola’s
Daughter in 2007 at the Bridgewater Hall, The Oceanides in 2006 at BBC Studio 7, Manchester, and the Symphony No. 2 live in 2012 at the
Bridgewater Hall. Some people love the sound and spontaneity of a live
recording; I don’t. To my ears, live recordings often don’t sound as good as
those made in a studio or an unattended hall, and live recordings often
introduce audience distractions. Here, if you listen to the disc, you’ll see
what I mean.
The sound in the non-live recordings of the tone poems is
fairly close but warmly natural and detailed, with no trace of hardness or
edge. The brass sound especially realistic, there is a good feeling of depth to
the image, and one hears a pleasant ambient bloom throughout. The sound in the
live recording of the Symphony is
closer still and slightly harder and raspier. It makes the definition stand
out, true, but at the expense of losing a degree of smoothness. On the positive
side, the audience remain very well behaved during the performance, so you
won't hear much in the way of shuffling feet, rustling paper, coughing, or
wheezing. On the negative side, however, you will hear a burst of unfortunate
applause at the end.
To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here:
JJP
