Barber: First Symphony; Sibelius: Symphony No. 7; Scriabin: Le poem de l’extase. Michael Stern, Kansas City Symphony. Reference Recordings RR-149.
By John J. Puccio
Sometimes you think you know something, and you don’t. In this case, I thought I knew pretty much what a symphony was all about. Apparently, I didn’t.
“Symphony: an extended piece in three or more movements for symphony orchestra.” --American Heritage Dictionary
“Symphony: a work usually consisting of multiple distinct sections, often four.” --Wikipedia
“Symphony: a lengthy form of musical composition for orchestra, normally consisting of several large sections, or movements, at least one of which usually employs sonata form.” --Encyclopedia Britannica
“Symphony: a usually long and complex sonata for symphony orchestra.” --Merriam-Webster Dictionary
But as the producers of this disc, One Movement Symphonies, point out, those definitions are not necessarily true. Each of the works on the album is a one-movement orchestral piece that their composers identified as “symphonies.” Yet these are not obscure works by obscure composers. They are major symphonic pieces by composers we all know: Samuel Barber’s First Symphony; Jean Sibelius’s Seventh Symphony; and Alexander Scriabin’s Le poeme de l’extase (“The Poem of Ecstasy”). OK. We all know the music. But have we really considered them “symphonies” in any strict sense of the term? Maybe. Maybe not.
Be that as it may, it’s the “one-movement” business that holds the program together, starting with the First Symphony (1936) by American composer, conductor, pianist, and singer Samuel Barber (1910-1981). Barber subtitled it “In One Movement” just to make clear what he was up to, and sometimes people refer to it simply as the “Symphony in One Movement.” Despite the title, however, the work really is divided into four brief sections: Allegro ma non troppo, Allegro molto, Andante tranquillo, and Con moto. Barber modeled it on Sibelius’s Seventh Symphony, which is also divided into traditional movements but played without breaks.
Maestro Michael Stern and the Kansas City Symphony play the piece in a fairly straightforward manner, without undue flourish yet with delicate nuance. They handle the mood swings in the music with subtlety and grace, producing if not the most striking account of the piece ever recorded certainly one of the most enjoyable.
Next, speaking of Sibelius, comes the famous Symphony No. 7 in C major, written 1924 by Finnish composer and violinist Jean Sibelius (1865-1957). When Sibelius premiered it, however, he called it Fantasia sinfonica No. 1, a "symphonic fantasy." It wasn’t until the next year and its publication that he decided to label it a true “symphony.” By whatever name he wanted to call it, the work is still divided into distinct sections, in this case more than ever, with no less than ten discrete divisions from an opening Adagio to a closing Affettuoso (with “feeling” or “warmth”) and Tempo 1 (a return to the work’s initial tempo). However, the uniting thread holding it all together is not a series of contrasting keys and themes as in most traditional symphonies but a single, unifying key, C, and a series of constantly changing tempos. Again we get an honest, forthright presentation from Maestro Stern, with the orchestra sounding rich and resonant. The music remains colorful, lyrical, almost magical throughout, and the performance provides much pleasure.
The final work is Le poeme de l’extase (1905-08) by the Russian composer and pianist Alexander Scriabin (1871-1915). This work I’ve always thought of a symphonic poem rather than a true symphony mainly because it avoids the usual symphonic movements and contents itself to communicate a set of more spiritual emotions. Scriabin described it as “the joy of liberated action,” and approved the following program notes: “The stronger the pulse beat of life and the more rapid the precipitation of rhythms, the more clearly the awareness comes to the Spirit that it is consubstantial with creativity itself. When the Spirit has attained the supreme culmination of its activity and has been torn away from the embraces of teleology and relativity, when it has exhausted completely its substance and its liberated active energy, the Time of Ecstasy shall arrive.”
It’s a rather fanciful way of saying the music is sensual and provocative and should be played and enjoyed with passion. Stern’s way with it isn’t exactly in the heady realms of a Stokowski, Svetlanov, Gergiev, Muti, Abbado, or Mitropoulos, but it comes close enough. Stern appears to go for a beauty in the work beyond its mysticism, making it all the more enchanting, even beguiling for the listener.
Producer David Frost and engineer Keith O. Johnson recorded the symphonies at Helzberg Hall, Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts, Kansas City, Missouri in June 2016. This is a classic Reference Recordings production, meaning it sounds the way Reference Recordings discs have sounded since their founding back in 1976 and the way we’ve always loved them. The sound is dynamic, dimensional, wide ranging, and real. That last is particularly important. Reference Recordings have never tried to sound “audiophile,” just lifelike, and in the process the company has, perhaps ironically, established itself as a leader in the audiophile recording industry.
Anyway, this is all by way of saying that the current disc displays wide frequency and dynamic ranges, a solid impact, and a realistic orchestral depth and width. It comes about as close as one can get to sitting in a concert hall at a moderate distance from the ensemble. It’s quite impressive.
JJP
To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:
By John J. Puccio
“Symphony: an extended piece in three or more movements for symphony orchestra.” --American Heritage Dictionary
“Symphony: a work usually consisting of multiple distinct sections, often four.” --Wikipedia
“Symphony: a lengthy form of musical composition for orchestra, normally consisting of several large sections, or movements, at least one of which usually employs sonata form.” --Encyclopedia Britannica
“Symphony: a usually long and complex sonata for symphony orchestra.” --Merriam-Webster Dictionary
But as the producers of this disc, One Movement Symphonies, point out, those definitions are not necessarily true. Each of the works on the album is a one-movement orchestral piece that their composers identified as “symphonies.” Yet these are not obscure works by obscure composers. They are major symphonic pieces by composers we all know: Samuel Barber’s First Symphony; Jean Sibelius’s Seventh Symphony; and Alexander Scriabin’s Le poeme de l’extase (“The Poem of Ecstasy”). OK. We all know the music. But have we really considered them “symphonies” in any strict sense of the term? Maybe. Maybe not.
Be that as it may, it’s the “one-movement” business that holds the program together, starting with the First Symphony (1936) by American composer, conductor, pianist, and singer Samuel Barber (1910-1981). Barber subtitled it “In One Movement” just to make clear what he was up to, and sometimes people refer to it simply as the “Symphony in One Movement.” Despite the title, however, the work really is divided into four brief sections: Allegro ma non troppo, Allegro molto, Andante tranquillo, and Con moto. Barber modeled it on Sibelius’s Seventh Symphony, which is also divided into traditional movements but played without breaks.
Next, speaking of Sibelius, comes the famous Symphony No. 7 in C major, written 1924 by Finnish composer and violinist Jean Sibelius (1865-1957). When Sibelius premiered it, however, he called it Fantasia sinfonica No. 1, a "symphonic fantasy." It wasn’t until the next year and its publication that he decided to label it a true “symphony.” By whatever name he wanted to call it, the work is still divided into distinct sections, in this case more than ever, with no less than ten discrete divisions from an opening Adagio to a closing Affettuoso (with “feeling” or “warmth”) and Tempo 1 (a return to the work’s initial tempo). However, the uniting thread holding it all together is not a series of contrasting keys and themes as in most traditional symphonies but a single, unifying key, C, and a series of constantly changing tempos. Again we get an honest, forthright presentation from Maestro Stern, with the orchestra sounding rich and resonant. The music remains colorful, lyrical, almost magical throughout, and the performance provides much pleasure.
The final work is Le poeme de l’extase (1905-08) by the Russian composer and pianist Alexander Scriabin (1871-1915). This work I’ve always thought of a symphonic poem rather than a true symphony mainly because it avoids the usual symphonic movements and contents itself to communicate a set of more spiritual emotions. Scriabin described it as “the joy of liberated action,” and approved the following program notes: “The stronger the pulse beat of life and the more rapid the precipitation of rhythms, the more clearly the awareness comes to the Spirit that it is consubstantial with creativity itself. When the Spirit has attained the supreme culmination of its activity and has been torn away from the embraces of teleology and relativity, when it has exhausted completely its substance and its liberated active energy, the Time of Ecstasy shall arrive.”
It’s a rather fanciful way of saying the music is sensual and provocative and should be played and enjoyed with passion. Stern’s way with it isn’t exactly in the heady realms of a Stokowski, Svetlanov, Gergiev, Muti, Abbado, or Mitropoulos, but it comes close enough. Stern appears to go for a beauty in the work beyond its mysticism, making it all the more enchanting, even beguiling for the listener.
Producer David Frost and engineer Keith O. Johnson recorded the symphonies at Helzberg Hall, Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts, Kansas City, Missouri in June 2016. This is a classic Reference Recordings production, meaning it sounds the way Reference Recordings discs have sounded since their founding back in 1976 and the way we’ve always loved them. The sound is dynamic, dimensional, wide ranging, and real. That last is particularly important. Reference Recordings have never tried to sound “audiophile,” just lifelike, and in the process the company has, perhaps ironically, established itself as a leader in the audiophile recording industry.
Anyway, this is all by way of saying that the current disc displays wide frequency and dynamic ranges, a solid impact, and a realistic orchestral depth and width. It comes about as close as one can get to sitting in a concert hall at a moderate distance from the ensemble. It’s quite impressive.
JJP
To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:
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