Recent Releases No. 45 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring 

Vaughan Williams: Symphony No. 7 (“Sinfonia Antartica”); Symphony No. 9 in E minor. Elizabeth Watts, soprano, BBC Symphony Chorus; BBC Symphony Orchestra, Martyn Brabbins, conductor. Hyperion CDA68405

Many classical music fans, or at least those conversant with the music of the composer Ralph Vaughan Williams, know that his Symphony No. 7 (“Sinfonia Antartica”) grew out of music that he had composed for the film Scott of the Antarctic, which portrayed the ill-fated South Pole expedition of Royal Navy officer Captain Robert Scott. On their way back from the Pole in 1912, Scott and all four other members of his party met their frozen deaths. Intrigued by the story, RVW decided to write a symphony based upon some of the themes from the music he had composed for the film. It is a grand and stirring composition full of spectacular sounds, featuring a large orchestra augmented by an organ, a wordless choir, a wordless soprano, gong, bells, glockenspiel, xylophone, piano, celesta, and if that’s not enough to test your stereo system, a wind machine (which on this recording is replaced by the recorded sounds of actual wind – a first in my experience). In addition, literary quotations meant to be spoken aloud were attached to each of the five movements, although many recordings, including this one, omit them. Other recordings, taking advantage of the programmable possibilities of digital media such as the CD, include the spoken sections so listeners can decide whether to listen to them or not for any particular listening session. The Onyx recording led by Andrew Manze that I reviewed previously for Classical Candor of these same RVW symphonies (you can find that review here) put them at the beginning of each movement. 

The engineering team on  this Hyperion release has met the challenge of capturing the power of the assembled forces. From tinkling treble to rumbling bass, the sounds coming from your speakers will bring the cold chill and dark terror of the Antarctic into your listening space as the orchestral forces project a sense of grandeur and the voices and wind noises that come in later in the movement evoke feelings of isolation and fear. The organ rumblings attest to the sheer power and majesty of the bleak, frozen landscape. Brabbins’s interpretation seems at times just a bit smoother than that of Manze, but overall this is still a powerful and dramatic performance and recording of this work. Especially moving is the final movement. Although this recording does not include the spoken introduction, the performance captures the spirit: "I do not regret this journey; we took risks, we knew we took them, things have come out against us, therefore we have no cause for complaint." (from Captain Scott's Last Journal). The movement opens with a drum roll and brass fanfare, perhaps a final  of act of bravado in the face of defeat and death. As the movement continues, the wind and and wordless voices echo once more, the orchestra plays echoes of the symphony's opening theme, and then we hear the soprano, chorus, and wind sounds as the symphony – and Scott’s ill-fated quest – fade to the end. 

 

RVW’s Symphony No. 9 seems to be greatly underappreciated, which is a shame, for it is a marvelous work. The first recording I ever owned the Ninth was an Everest LP (remember Everest? 35mm tape technology subverted by mediocre pressings – not  to mention their often laughable cover art) with Sir Adrian Boult, a close friend of the composer, conducting the London Philharmonic Orchestra. This was in fact the very first recording of the work, and Vaughan Williams was to be on hand for this auspicious occasion. Sadly, he passed away just hours before the session began. As a result, the recording session began opened with Sir Adrian informing the orchestra of the composer's passing, and his words were captured on tape and included at the beginning of the Everest LP. Although the orchestral forces RVW specified for the Ninth are modest, especially in comparison to those employed in the Seventh, a sound that you do not often hear in symphonic music results from the trio of saxophones that the composer added to the orchestra. 

The opening movement reminds me somewhat of the Seventh, with some themes sounding similar in feeling. Not in terms of sonority, of course, the orchestration being much different, much less grandiose – RVW is making a much more intimate statement with this work. The second movement, which opens with a flugelhorn solo (this apparently caused some eyebrows to raise when the work was new), brings in an element of mystery, perhaps even a sense of danger, especially near the end. The third movement is more jaunty and bouncy, with the saxophones and percussion section getting a chance to have some fun, the movement ending with a drum roll on the snares. The final movement begins in the strings but then gives all sections of the orchestra time in the spotlight as it unfolds, with some tender phrases from the saxophones near the final measures. Overall, the music is complex but flowing, showing Vaughan Williams to be still at the height of his compositional powers even late in his long life (in fact, the liner notes point out that the composer had begun some preliminary sketches for two more symphonies before his death). Brabbins and his BBC forces make a strong case for this final symphony, in a performance that stands right up there with previous favorites such as Manze and Slatkin. If you are one of those casual RVW fans who might have overlooked his Symphony No. 9, this new Hyperion recording would be an excellent opportunity for you make your acquaintance with something special indeed.

Schubert: Piano Sonata in A minor D537; Piano Sonata in A major D959. Garrick Ohlsson, piano. Hyperion CDA68398

 

The veteran American pianist Garrick Ohlsson (b. 1948) has enjoyed a long and distinguished career. He won the International Chopin Piano Competition in 1970 and remains the only American pianist ever to have done so. He has recorded the complete works of Chopin (and has of course made many other recordings over the years), but here turns his attention to a pair of piano sonatas by Schubert, his first completed sonata (D537), and one of the three (D959) completed only two months before the composer’s death. Bill Heck and I recently had a conversation about Schubert’s piano music wherein we both agreed that there is truly something special about it, some element of sheer beauty that has never been surpassed. We both love the piano music of Beethoven, and those late piano pieces by Brahms – but my goodness, the way Schubert can just spin out the melodies that dance, sing, weep, cry, laugh, ponder, pray, prance… 

The sounds that Ohlsson coaxes from the keyboard do justice to the range of feelings that Schubert pours into his composing. The earlier work is lighter, with more of the feeling of the dance about it from the outset. Ohlsson shades dynamics and plays with a flexible tempo that brings out the galloping drama of the first movement and makes the second movement just flow along with a sprightly air about it, making it truly atmospheric and lovely. The relatively brief (5:06) finale abounds in dynamic contrasts as it races toward its conclusion. Then it is on to D959, one of the glories of the piano literature. Ohlsson brings his ability to shade dynamics and shift the tempo to this monumental work as well. In comparing his interpretation to that of Uchida, it seemed as though hers seemed to lean more to drama, while his leaned more to color. Or perhaps you could say that Uchida is a bit more percussive – but just a bit.  Perhaps some of the difference could also be attributed to the engineering, with Ohlsson being afforded a warm, slightly distant sound, Uchida having been recorded a tad closer. 

Once again, then, Hyperion has given us a recording with excellent sound, informative liner notes, and an artistic cover. Even if you already have some Schubert piano recordings in your collection, this one is worth an audition to hear what Ohlsson’s tender touch reveals from Schubert’s scores. And if you have not encountered the piano music of Schubert, this recording would make an excellent introduction.

As a final note, some classical music fans may have already heard, but for those who have not, the latest news is that Hyperion Records, long an independent UK-based recording label, was recently sold to the Universal Music Group (UMG), the giant corporation that owns the rights to familiar classical recording labels such as Deutsche Grammophon, Decca, and EMI, as well as jazz/popular labels such as Geffen, A&M, Motown, Island, Polydor, Def Jam, Interscope, Capitol – they even own Abbey Road Studios. Although there is always fear when a little fish gets swallowed up by a great big one, there are some potential benefits to classical music fans. If nothing else, the Hyperion catalog may become more accessible on streaming services, which would certainly be a plus. Meanwhile, there are more Hyperion releases in the pipeline, and we have already received some CDs for future review. At this juncture, the long-term future of the label is not crystal-clear, but if we all follow the advice of Hulk Hogan (say our prayers and take our vitamins), the music will continue to be served admirably well.