Two Box Sets and Two Sets in a Box (CD & Live Concert Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

Shostakovich: Symphonies-Concertos-Lady Macbeth. (CDs1-12) Symphonies 1-15; (CD 13) Incidental Music and Chamber Symphony; (CD 14) Piano Concertos Nos. 1 & 2; (CD 15) Violin Concertos Nos. 1 & 2; (CD 16) Cello Concertos Nos. 1 & 2; (CDs 17-19) Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District. Yuja Wang, piano; Baiba Skride, violin; Yo-Yo Ma, cello; Kristīne Opolais, soprano; Boston Symphony Orchestra; Andris Nelsons, conductor. Deutsche Grammophon 486 6849 

 

Back in 2015 the Boston Symphony Orchestra and its then newly appointed Music Director Andris Nelsons teamed up with Deutsche Grammophon and embarked on a project to record all 15 Shostakovich symphonies, starting with No. 10, which was reviewed soon after it release by our own John Puccio (you can find that review here). As the project continued, we reviewed a couple of the subsequent releases, including Nos. 4 & 11 in 2019 (review located here) and Nos. 1, 14. & 15 in 2021 (found here). Fast forward to 2025, which coincides with the 50^th anniversary oh Shostakovich’s death, and DG has decided to gather all 15 symphony recordings into a box set – but wait, there’s more. In addition to the symphonies, we get the two piano concertos, two violin concerto, two cello concertos, a concert version of his opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District, and more. Nineteen discs in all, and no, we have not carefully auditioned them all. Too many discs, too little time. 

From our previous reviews, you will see that we were quite favorably impressed by their versions of Symphonies 10, 4, and 11, but less so by Nos. 1, 14, and 15. From this new set, our time spent listening to Wang’s performances of the piano concertos proved quite delightful (those performances have been released in a separate CD that Ryan Ross will be reviewing soon). We also gave a quick listen to Skride’s performances of the violin concertos and found them to be tenderly expressive but on the slow side – which may have added to the feeling of emotional resonance. Surely many listeners will already own favorite versions of several of these DSCH compositions; however, the outstanding playing of the BSO, the excellent sound quality, and the convenience of having all these works gathered into one collection combine to make this set an attractive collection for serious Shostakovich fans.

 

Lorin Maazel Conducts the Cleveland Orchestra: The Complete CBS Masterworks. (CD 1) Berlioz: Le carnaval romain, H 95: Overture; Brahms: Academic Festival Overture, Op. 80; Barber: The School For Scandal, Op. 5: Overture; Brahms: Symphony No. 1 in C Minor, Op. 68; (CD 2) R. Strauss: Ein Heldenleben, Op. 40; (CD 3) Beethoven: Symphony No. 1 in C Major, Op. 21; Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 36; (CD 4) Beethoven:Symphony No. 3 in E-Flat Major, Op. 55 "Eroica"; (CD 5) Beethoven: Symphony No. 4 in B-Flat Major, Op. 60; Symphony No. 8 in F Major, Op. 93; (CD 6) Beethoven: Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67; Egmont Overture, Op. 84; Leonore Overture No. 3, Op. 72; (CD 7) Beethoven: Symphony No. 6 in F Major, Op. 68 "Pastoral"; (CD 8) Beethoven: Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92; Fidelio Overture, Op. 72; (CD 9) Beethoven: Symphony No. 9 in D Minor, Op. 125 "Choral"; (CD 10) Strauss: Don Juan, Op. 20; Till Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks, Op. 28; Death and Transfiguration; (CD 11) Berlioz: Symphonie Fantastique, Op. 14; (CD 12) Serge Lama: Les P'tites Femmes de Pigalle; Chez Moi; Je t'aime à la folie; Je suis malade; L'esclave; La Chanteuse a vingt ans; La Salle de Bains; Ah!; L'enfant au piano; Femmes, Femmes, Femmes; L'enfant d'un autre; An old-fashioned Waltz; (CD 13) Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 5 in E Minor, Op. 64; (CD 14) Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 6 in B Minor, Op. 74 "Pathétique"; (CD 15) Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 4 in F Minor, Op. 36. Cleveland Orchestra; Lorin Maazel, conductor. Sony Classical 19802819982

 

When music lovers talk of remarkable musical prodigies or notable conductors of the 20^th century, how likely is Lorin Maazel (1930-2014) likely to be put forward as a candidate for consideration? Based on my experience at least, not very often, if at all. But Maazel’s story is a remarkable one: the man was a marvel. Maazel was born in Paris, but in 1932 his family moved to Los Angeles, where soon after they enrolled the youngster first in violin lessons and while still a young child, conducting lessons with the associate conductor of the Los Angeles Philharmonic. He was not yet 10 when he mounted the Pittsburgh Symphony’s podium and only 11 when he was invited by none other than Toscanini himself to conduct the NBC Symphony nationally broadcast concert.  By the time he reached 15, he was determined to get a university education and withdrew from conducting engagements to study languages and philosophy at the University of Pittsburgh – meanwhile also giving violin recitals and playing in the Pittsburgh SO and the Fine Arts Quartet. After graduation, a Fulbright Scholarship took him to Rome, and in 1953 he made his European debut, standing in for an indisposed conductor in Catania. By 1960 he had conducted some 300 concerts with more than 20 European orchestras and, aged 30, became the youngest conductor, the first American, and the first Jew since the fall of the Third Reich to appear at the Bayreuth Festival.

When music lovers talk of the Cleveland Orchestra, the conductor’s name that immediately pops up is that of George Szell (1897-1970), who led the orchestra from 1946 until his death in 1970. His name is still nearly synonymous with the orchestra; for example, Christoph von Dohnányi, who succeeded Maazel as Music Director in Cleveland, once quipped, “we give a great concert, and George Szell gets a great review.” But it was Maazel who faced the unenviable task of succeeding becoming Szell’s immediate successor, taking over as Music Director in 1972. Interestingly, although Maazel is sometimes thought of today as a bit stiff and literal in style, when he took over in Cleveland, there was grousing that his style was “too emotional” when compared to that of his legendary predecessor. For Maazel and/or Clevland Orchestra fans, this åcompetitive Beethoven symphony cycle and some fine Strauss. It also contains one of the stranger things I have heard in quite some time, Maazel’s own “symphonic realizations” of åviolin on a French TV show, Maazel hatched the idea of “lending Lama’s poetry a new, larger dimension.” Let’s just say it was not one of Maazel’s finest moments.

 

The booklet included in the box contains some background information on Maazel, some photographs, and reproductions of the original LP covers. For devoted Maazel fans, this box may well be an attractive package. 

 

Joel Ross’s Good Vibes (Joel Ross, vibraphone; Jeremy Corren, piano; Kanoa Mendenhall, bass; Maria Grand, tenor saxophone; Josh Johnson, alto saxophone; ​Jeremy Dutton, drums). Live set at the Performance Space in the Wexner Center for the Performing Arts at The Ohio State University, Columbus, OH. March 6, 2025.

 

The Performance Space at the Wexner Center at OSU offers a comfortable setting in which to enjoy a musical performance. In early March, the stage was occupied by the Chicago-born vibraphonist Joel Ross (b. 1995), who now operates out of Brooklyn, and his band, Good Vibes. Unlike many jazz vibes players, who use four mallets, two in each hand, Ross prefers to play with only one in each hand, because he says he does not want to dictate harmony. This manner of playing also lends clarity to his sound, putting the emphasis on melody and rhythm. This was evident as he began the set on his vibraphone, hammering out a solo. Ross had offered no spoken no introduction – neither of the band members, nor of the music; instead, the band walked on stage and Ross just started tapping on his vibes, playing for several minutes, establishing a pulse and a melody that was picked up by the rest of the group as they began to join in. 

 

What followed was an hour-long continuous stream of music. The music seemed to slowly mutate as it went along, with subtle shifts in tempo, melody, rhythm, and harmony. Phrases would appear, get passed around among the group, disappear, sometimes to reappear 10 or 15 minutes later in a subtly different form and tempo. From time to time there were solos; special mention must be made of the contributions of Maria Grand on tenor saxophone, who dazzled the crowd with a couple of incredible solos, especially when she explored the extreme treble range of which the instrument is capable. Overall, though, the most impressive thing about the show was seeing how these musicians could interact with each other over the span of an hour, delighting in the subtleties of musical creation and interaction. Although it features more structured tunes in a studio setting, Ross’s most recent album, nublues (Blue Note), is well worth a listen.

 

Joshua Redman Group (Joshua Redman, tenor saxophone; Gabrielle Cavassa, vocals; Paul Cornish, piano; Philip Norris, bass; Nazir Ebo, drums). Live set at the Performance Space in the Wexner Center for the Performing Arts at The Ohio State University, Columbus, OH. April 3, 2025.

 

In contrast to Joel Ross, who had barely interacted with the audience, saxophonist Joshua Redman (b. 1969) greeted the audience with enthusiasm and established an immediate rapport as he recalled previous shows in Columbus. Also in contrast to the Ross concert, which had been one continuous stream of music, Redman’s show was a set of tunes, many of them featuring vocals by the remarkable Gabrielle Cavassa, who offered powerful interpretations of such familiar standards such as By the Time I Get to Phoenix, I Left My Heart in San Francisco, and Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?. Of course, there were also plenty of instrumental highlights along the way, with not only some blazing saxophone solos by Redman, of course, but also an energetic bass solo by Philip Norris that earned a rousing round of applause from the audience.

 

The group was on a tour showcasing their Blue Note album, Where Are We, which includes the tunes mentioned above. To close their live set, Cavassa sang another song from the album, Stars Fell on Alabama, after which Redman played an extended, impassioned solo on his saxophone that was simply heart-rending before the whole band joined in on John Coltrane's Alabama, capping off a night to remember. Redman has a new album coming out in June, Words Fall Short (Blue Note), that will include these musicians plus some guests, including the exciting young tenor saxophonist Melissa Aldana.

Recent Releases No. 65 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

Sommernachtskonzert 2023. Bizet: Carmen Suite No. 1; L'amour est un oiseau rebelle (Habanera); Lili Boulanger: D'un matin de printemps; Berlioz: Le Corsaire Overture, Op. 21, H. 01 Gounod: Sapho, Act III, No. 19 - Ô ma lyre immortelle; Ravel: Daphnis et Chloé Suite No. 2, M. 57b      ; Saint-Saëns: Samson et Dalila, Op. 47 - Mon coeur s'ouvre à ta voix: Ravel: Boléro, M. 81; Johann Strauss II: Wiener Blut, Op. 354. Elīna Garanča, mezzo-soprano; Vienna Philharmonic; Yannick Nézet-Séguin. Sony Classics 19658818969

The Summer Night Concert by the Vienna Philharmonic was held this year on June 8th, 2023. It is an annual open-air event that has been held since 2008, something of a complement to the famous New Year’s concerts with their much older tradition. Musically, these summer concerts are far more interesting than their winter counterparts, presenting as they typically do a more varied program than the mostly Strauss waltzes and such that are heard in January in the  gilded Musikverein. As you can see from the above program listing, the summer concert is more musically substantial, and because it is summer, the park of Schönbrunn Palace in Vienna is the outdoor setting for the concert, allowing for a far larger audience to attend. 

Like the New Year’s concert, the Summer Concert is led bya top-flight conductor – Yannick Nézet-Séguin in 2023, following in the footsteps of Georges Prêtre, Daniel Barenboim, Franz Welser-Möst, Lorin Maazel, Christoph Eschenbach, Zubin Mehta, Semyon Bychkov, Gustavo Dudamel, Daniel Harding, and Andris Nelsons. Also like the New Year’s Concert, the event is televised worldwide (PBS carries it in the USA) and is made available on DVD, Blu-Ray, and – obviously – CD.  To be perfectly honest, I would think most folks would prefer to see a video version of this concert rather than merely to listen to the CD. Don’t get me wrong, though; it’s an excellent release, a well-recorded concert CD of a substantial and highly entertaining musical program, well-performed, and even the CD booklet is well-done – but the concert really is something you might want to see as well as hear if you get the chance.  

A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving: Original Soundtrack Recording (50^th Anniversary Special Edition). The Vince Guaraldi Quintet (Vince Guaraldi, piano and voice; Seward McCain, bass; Mike Clark; drums; Tom Harrell, trumpet and brass arrangement; Chuck Bennett, trombone). Lee Mendelson Film Productions LM02302 

A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving premiered on CBS television  on November 23, 1973. This was the tenth Peanuts special, and earlier that summer, Vince Guaraldi had entered the studio with his fellow musicians to work on the score. Jazz fans might recognize the names of Tom Harrell, who would go on to become a legendary trumpeter on the New York scene, and Mike Clark, who toured with Herbie Hancock’s Headhunters band in the 1970s and who, along with Dave Garibaldi, the drummer for the Bay area group Tower of Power, became well-known for their driving, powerful style of drumming. (As a side note, Clark and Garibaldi have teamed together with the noted drummers Greg Errico [Sly and The Family Stone], Lenny White [Return to Forever], and Greg Shrieve [Santana] on a series of YouTube videos called Stick People, which features in-depth interviews with other musicians. You can see their first episode here.) 

Also recognizable to most people of a certain age should be the general style and some of the musical themes included in the program. Although not quite as endearing as the music for the A Charlie Brown Christmas special from 1965 – who can ever forget “Christmas Time Is Here?” – the Thanksgiving music has an upbeat, feel-good, jazzy energy to it that makes for some engaging listening. With Harrell’s contributions (plus a little help from an unidentified guitar player) adding extra color and pizazz to Guaraldi’s tunes, the net result is an album that swings from start to finish – and that is something for which to be thankful this holiday season.

Berlioz: Symphonie fantastique (CD review)

Varujan Kojian, Utah Symphony Orchestra. Reference Recordings RR-11CD.

By John J. Puccio

Better late than never.

Maestro Varujan Kojian and the Utah Symphony recorded this album for Reference Recordings in 1982, and somehow it escaped my attention for some forty years. This despite my having reviewed most other Reference Recordings releases over the years and despite the high praise the disc received for its sound in particular. So now, four decades late, here is my review.

First, though, a word about the production team. The following is from the Reference Recordings Web site: “Since 1976, The Best Seat in the House. Always at the forefront of technical advances. Reference Recordings records and manufactures award winning, ultimate quality CDs, Hybrid SACDs, Reference Mastercuts LPs, and revolutionary HRx discs: 176.4 kHz/24 bit music on DVD audio discs. Our recordings are also offered as digital downloads through our own website and through multiple sites worldwide, including high resolution PCM downloads and both stereo and surround-sound DSD downloads. We offer recordings from many of the finest classical, jazz, blues and world music artists.” At the time, Maestro Kojian (1935-1993) was the director of the Utah Symphony, and Reference Recordings was doing a number of albums with the Utah ensemble.

In the present case, they gave us the Symphonie fantastique by Hector Berlioz (1803-1869), a revolutionary piece of music the composer wrote in 1830 and subtitled “Fantastical Symphony: Episode in the Life of an Artist…in Five Sections.” Using programmatic elements and a huge orchestra of well over a hundred players (I’ve read that Berlioz employed about 130 musicians for the première), the result must have been extraordinary. Nevertheless, it’s not really a traditional symphony; it’s more like a big tone poem, a psychodrama in five movements, wherein the young Berlioz writes autobiographically of the hopeless love of a young man for a woman, with the young man falling into a drug-induced dream, which the composer describes in his music. The woman reappears throughout the music in the form of an idée fixe, a “fixed idea” that the young man cannot shake, a musical innovation Berlioz used to advantage and that later composers like Richard Wagner used extensively.

Berlioz titled the opening movement “Reveries--Passions,” describing the dejected romantic lover of the score conjuring up opium dreams and nightmares of his lost love. Of course, as small tone poems each of the movements should be presented with enough color for us easily to “see” in our mind’s eye the action and emotions the composer intended. In the first segment, the Maestro Kojian is marginally successful, although perhaps a tad too casual for my taste.

The second movement, “Un bal,” describes a ball in which the young man catches a flash of his beloved, music that courses with exquisite dance-like rhythms and textures. Maestro Kojian seems more expressive here than he did in the first movement, and the ball progresses with a comfortable flow.

In the third movement we have a “Scene aux champs,” a scene in the country, which is a long, slow adagio. In it, the young man sees a pair of shepherds playing a pipe melody to call their flock, and all is well until, as always, the young man notices his love in the picture, and the music takes a sudden turn. Until the turning point, the mood is languid, dreamy, which Kojian handles well. It’s the dramatic midsection that perhaps the conductor could have been a bit more colorful and compelling.

By the fourth and fifth movements we get into audiophile territory, with the entire orchestra going full tilt. If you need something to show off your new stereo rig, these movements are among the demonstration pieces for knocking socks off.

The fourth movement, the “March to the Scaffold,” brings the young man to a vision of his death for the murder of his beloved. The movement, incidentally, brings up an interesting question. Should the conductor take it seriously or as a cartoonish joke? A lot of conductors seem to consider it a bit of whimsy, having the character in the score stride jauntily up to his death. Others, like Sir Thomas Beecham (EMI/Warner), see the movement as a more somber affair. Kojian takes a sort of middle course, the music never really sounding too silly or too grim. Yet it never really seems to catch fire, either.

In the finale, the “Witches’ Sabbath,” we find the poor hero imagining his fate at Judgment Day in hell. In some hands, like those of Sir Colin Davis and Leonard Bernstein, the movement can sound undeniably demonic. Maestro Kojian does his best to raise the devil, and Reference Recordings’ wide-ranging sound fills in any missing momentum.

On a final note of interest, the record producers provide two versions of the final movement, one with orchestral bells and one with church bells. I preferred the orchestral bells, which sound splendid.

Producers Jeffrey Kaufmann, J. Tamblyn Henderson, and Marcia Martin and engineer Keith O. Johnson recorded the music at Symphony Hall, Salt Lake City, Utah in March 1982. Because the music has an exceptionally wide dynamic range, it begins very softly. I would advise against turning up the volume, however, as the loud passages can be very loud, indeed. Anyway, the sound is typical of Reference Recordings’ discs. It aims to capture the acoustics of the concert hall, so there’s a touch of resonance, a modest distance to the orchestra, as well as depth to it, plenty of impact and frequency range, and a maximum of realism. Of the dozen or so recordings of this music I had on hand, this one was at the top of the list for sound quality.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Berlioz: Symphonie fantastique (CD review)

Also, Les Francs-Juges overture. Francois-Xavier Roth, Les Siecles. Harmonia Mundi HMM 902644.

You'll find dozens, maybe hundreds of recordings of Hector Berlioz's popular Symphonie fantastique. But you'll not find many of them done by a period instruments band in a historically informed performance. Here, you will. Francois-Xavier Roth leads his period ensemble Les Siecles (The Centuries) in an interpretation based on Roth's close study of the composer's autograph score and even using the church bells of his hometown. It's probably about as close as we're going to get to what Berlioz heard and imagined when he wrote the piece in 1830.

For those of you who may be unfamiliar with Les Siecles, here is some info from Wikipedia that may help: "Les Siècles is a French philharmonic orchestra founded in 2003 by François-Xavier Roth, whose ambition is to put works from the 17th to today into perspective. The musicians of this orchestra play each repertoire on the appropriate historical instruments.

Les Siècles perform regularly in Paris (Opéra Comique, Salle Pleyel, Théâtre du Châtelet, Philharmonie de Paris), in La Côte-Saint-André (Aisne department),[1] in Aix-en-Provence, Metz, Caen, Nîmes, Royaumont and international stages, Amsterdam (Royal Concertgebouw), London (BBC Proms), Bremen, Brussels (Klara Festival), Wiesbaden, Luxembourg, Cologne, Tokyo, Essen.

Eager to transmit to the greatest number the passion for classical music, the musicians of the ensemble regularly propose educational actions in schools, hospitals or prisons. The orchestra is also a partner of the Atelier symphonique départemental de l'Aisne du Jeune Orchestre européen Hector Berlioz, and DEMOS (Dispositif d'Éducation musicale et orchestrale à vocation sociale) in Picardy."

Anyway, you are probably already know the Symphonie fantastique pretty well. After Berlioz wrote it, it didn't take long for it to become one of the most influential pieces of music of all time. With programmatic elements and using a huge orchestral arrangement for well over a hundred players (I've read that Berlioz employed about 130 musicians for the première), the result must have been extraordinary for its time--or any time. Nevertheless, it's not really a traditional symphony; it's more like a psychodrama in five movements, wherein the young Berlioz writes autobiographically of the hopeless love of a young man for a woman, and the young man falling into a drug-induced dream, which the composer describes in his music. The woman reappears throughout the music in the form of an idée fixe, a "fixed idea" that the young man cannot shake, a musical innovation Berlioz used to advantage and that later composers like Richard Wagner used extensively.

Francois-Xavier Roth

Berlioz titled the opening movement "Reveries--Passions," describing the dejected romantic lover of the score conjuring up opium dreams and nightmares of his lost love. I mentioned that Berlioz used over a hundred players in his arrangement, and Les Siecles come close with almost a hundred in their ensemble. Yet because it's a period band and not a modern orchestra, there is an added clarity to the sound. It's not as lush or rich a sound as a modern orchestra would produce, but it's quite impressive in its translucence.

As important, Maestro Roth takes his time to show us the narrative rather than just tell it by playing the notes. He conjures up most the movement's pictorial elements quite well, aurally painting the tone poem as a portrait we can see in our minds. In other words, he does what any good conductor should do: He invests the music with color, passion, excitement, and sorrow as the case may be.

The second movement, "Un bal," describes a ball in which the young man catches a flash of his beloved. Roth keeps it flowing with exquisite dance-like rhythms and textures. Although he moves it along at a fairly speedy gait, it never feels fast or rushed.

After that is the "Scene aux champs," the scene in the country, a long, slow adagio. In it, the young man sees a pair of shepherds playing a pipe melody to call their flock, and all is well until, as always, the young man notices his love in the picture, and the music takes a sudden turn. Again, Maestro Roth has the measure of the score, as he builds the movement from slow and ardent to desperately fervent.

Then, we come to the two movements that audiophiles most love because they bubble over with so much busy, vigorous energy and orchestral flourish. They're ideal for showing off one's audio system, and what better way to do it than with a period-instrument band? The "March to the Scaffold" brings the young man to a dream of his death for the murder of his beloved, and the "Witches' Sabbath" finds the poor fellow imagining his fate at Judgment Day in hell.

The "March to the Scaffold" brings up an interesting question. Should the conductor take it seriously or as a cartoonish joke? A lot of conductors seem to consider it a bit of whimsy, having the character in the music stride jauntily up to his death. Others, like Sir Thomas Beecham (EMI/Warner), see it as a more somber affair. Maestro Roth takes a measured approach, keeping the scene staid but not a little fantastic. However, I thought he could have made the final movement, "Witches' Sabbath," a little scarier, as Bernstein did in his 1976 recording with the French National Orchestra (EMI/Hi-Q). While the Symphonie should end in an ostentatious flourish, Roth's interpretation is a tad light on spectacle.

As a companion piece on the disc, Maestro Roth selected Berlioz's overture to Les Franc-juges, a work the composer wrote only a few years earlier than his "symphonie." It's really only the overture that most people know today, so it's not a great loss having so little of the music. Whatever, Roth does a good job playing up the contrasts in the music and making it enjoyably energetic.

Producer Jiri Heger and engineer Alix Ewald recorded the album at Maison de l'Orchestre national d'lle-de-France, Alfortville, France in July 2019. As we might expect from a period ensemble, there is a good deal of transparency involved as the instruments stand out realistically. Then, add in an enormous dynamic range (watch that volume control), and you get a most lifelike presentation. The orchestral spread is wide but not exaggerated; the orchestral depth is fairly deep; the mild ambient bloom of the hall is pleasant; the transient impact is strong; and the frequency range is reasonably well extended, though somewhat lacking in deepest bass and highest treble. About the only quibble I have is that at higher volume, there is a touch of stridency present. At more reasonable levels, it sounds excellent.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Berlioz: Romeo & Juliet (CD review)

Catherine Robbin, soprano; Jean Paul Fouchecourt, tenor; Giles Cachemaille, bass. John Eliot Gardiner, Monteverdi Choir, Orchestre Revolutionnaire et Romantique. Decca 478 3934 (2-disc set).

It was just year earlier, in 1997, that Philips released Sir Colin Davis's remake of Hector Berlioz's Romeo and Juliet with the Vienna Philharmonic; then, in 1998 Philips almost competed with itself with this set by John Eliot Gardiner. Fortunately, it really wasn't a competition since Gardiner conducts a period-instrument band and Davis does not. Plus, the newer Gardiner recording has the added feature of the listener being able to program it three different ways: In the standard performing version, presumably Berlioz's last word on the subject; in Berlioz's original version of it from 1839; and in Gardiner's own preferred version.

John Eliot Gardiner

No, I didn't try all three arrangements. For comparison purposes I stuck to the standard version that Colin Davis followed because it was the best known to me. Nevertheless, the original version includes some attractive material the composer decided to omit, while, of course, leaving out a few items that he later added. I listened to the optional material independently of the rest of the work; not fair, I know, but the best I could do. I thought at the time it would be fascinating to hear the other arrangements in their entirety when I had more time. Well, as of this writing some twenty years on, I still haven't found the time.

As to the performances themselves, Gardiner's and Davis's, Gardiner's is the more dynamic. In general, it is a little swifter in its tempos and seemingly, smaller, overall, in scope. What's more, by a slight margin Gardiner's 1995 Philips recording, made in the Colosseum, Watford, England and now released on Decca, seems more clearly recorded than Davis's. As expected, though, under Davis the VPO, being a larger ensemble and playing modern instruments, present a bigger, weightier picture; and Davis's direction, a bit broader and more lyrical than Gardiner's, complements the image nicely.

I am not sure which set I prefer over the other. I certainly enjoyed them both. If I had to live with just one, however, I would go with the more familiar Davis. The music seems to flow more naturally in his hands, and the nuances are not quite so forced. Tough choices, though.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Berlioz: Symphonie fantastique (CD review)

Also, Lelio excerpts. Michael Tilson Thomas, San Francisco Symphony and Chorus. RCA 09026-68930-2.

Rule of thumb: Never trust an album that features the conductor's face on the cover. Not to imply such here, but too often it signals a vanity piece. Michael Tilson Thomas has his picture on the cover, on the back of the booklet, on the back of the jewel box, and again in the booklet itself. Not only that, his name is twice as big as the name of the work he is conducting. Enough said.

The performance has to be good to justify that kind of promotion and to compete in a standard repertoire item like French composer Hector Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique that already has a multitudinous assortment of discs at its service. With old favorites from Sir Colin Davis (in three different recordings), Sir Thomas Beecham (EMI/Warner), Leonard Bernstein (EMI/Warner), Roger Norrington (EMI/Virgin/Erato), John Eliot Gardiner (Philips/Decca), and a host of others well established, MTT's interpretation would have to be awfully good. It is good. But it is not awfully good.

Michael Tilson Thomas

The second movement waltz is particularly noteworthy, having a wonderful lilt that is quite infectious, and the third movement, which I have always found more than a little tedious, actually kept my attention. The real sonic showcases, however, "The March to the Scaffold" and "The Witches' Sabbath," come off as rather routine, despite MTT's sometimes quirky phrasing and ultrawide dynamics. Refer to Beecham and Bernstein for color and character.

On the other hand, the accompanying twenty minutes of excerpts from Lelio (or "The Return to Life"), Berlioz's follow-up to the Symphonie fantastique, are a major plus. Shorn of its bizarre narration, as it is here, Lelio better holds one's attention; it is both entertaining and engaging.

And the orchestra gets good support from the San Francisco Chorus, if not from the sound engineer in charge of enhancing the Chorus's dynamic range. Speaking of which, RCA's sound is clean, deep, and smooth, though somewhat lacking in ultimate definition and imaging. The whole affair gets a B- rating from me, among aforementioned recordings that merit A's. You be the judge. 

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Paul Kletzki: Great Conductors of the 20th Century (CD review)

Paul Kletzki, various orchestras. EMI 7243 5 75468 2 9 (2-CD set).

The bigger studios continue to mine their vaults for old material in new packaging, sometimes becoming redundant, sometimes finding gold. In the case of EMI's latest issue of remasterings, titled "Great Conductors of the 20th Century," they have provided a service in offering us much material never before available on CD.

Each release is a mid-priced two-disc set, and there are thirteen releases in EMI's first batch. They cover Sir Adrian Boult, Albert Coates, Carlo Maria Giulini, Erich Kleiber, Paul Kletzki, Otto Klemperer, Pierre Monteux, Charles Munch, Leopold Stokowski, Vaclav Talich, Eugene Ormandy, Carl Schuricht, and Bruno Walter. I chose to review Paul Kletzki because I think he's one of the great overlooked conductors of the last century, comparatively few of his recordings presently available on CD.

Each of these sets includes recordings the conductors made throughout their lives, irrespective of whether they are in mono or stereo. Thus, each set usually contains a mixture of both. In the case of the Kletzki discs, three of the items are in mono and five are in stereo. Actually, none of the items are marked mono or stereo, but the recording dates are given and one's ears can do the rest. One live recording from 1965 turned out to be in monaural.

Paul Kletzki

Of the Kletzki selections, I enjoyed the Tchaikovsky most of all, the Fifth Symphony with the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra from 1967 and the Capriccio italien with the Philharmonia Orchestra from 1958. EMI released both of them in stereo and both are decently recorded, although perhaps a bit thin and scrawny by today's standards. In some parts, the Capriccio can be downright spectacular in vividness and impact, while slightly scratchy in others; the interpretations are heartfelt in the case of the Symphony and robust and thrusting in the case of the Capriccio.

The thing with Kletzki, as with all of the great conductors listed above, is that he wasn't afraid to be himself and impose at least some of his own will on the music, as opposed to so many of today's conductors who all tend to sound alike. Kletzki had a great ear for the rhythms of a piece, a musician's ear, and you can feel the lyrical and dance-like qualities he brings out in many of the works, as well as the driving vigor of others.

Among the further delights in the set are Berlioz's Bevenuto Cellini overture; Schubert's Rosamunde Entr'acte No. 5; Dvorak's Slavonic Dances in D major, C minor, and C major; Mendelssohn's Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage overture; Brahms's Symphony No. 4; and Wagner's Traume No. 5. In addition to the orchestras mentioned, the groups employed include the Royal Philharmonic, the French Radio National Orchestra, the Israel Philharmonic, and the Czech Philharmonic.

So, there's quite a variety of music here, and all of it worthwhile.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click on the forward arrow:

The Karajan Collection: Philharmonia Promenade Concert (CD review)

Herbert von Karajan, Philharmonia Orchestra. EMI 7243 4 76900-2.

In 2005 the powers that be at EMI continued to find new and varied ways to repackage their older material, of which they had one of the biggest catalogues in the business (most of it now owned by Warner Classics). In the present album, we get a single disc from a multi-disc collection EMI put together called "The Karajan Collection." The boxed collection featured Karajan's work with both the Philharmonia Orchestra and the Berlin Philharmonic, but this single disc, Promenade Concert, features just the Philharmonia.

The booklet note tells us that the Philharmonia Promenade Concert (1958-1960) comprises the last recordings Karajan made for EMI with the Philharmonia Orchestra before he left for the Berlin Philharmonic. It seems an odd way to go out, this most sober-minded maestro doing a collection of lightweight showpieces, but it's all in good fun, and Karajan genuinely seems to be having a jolly time letting his hair down, so to speak.

Herbert von Karajan

There are twelve works on the disc, all of them popular warhorses, and I'll mention only a few: Chabrier's España, Waldteufel's Skaters' Waltz, Suppe's Light Cavalry Overture, Weinberger's Schwanda the Bagpiper, Offenbach's Orpheus in the Underworld Overture, and Borodin's Polovtsian Dances, plus bits by Berlioz, Leoncavallo, and the Strausses. Karajan gives his full attention to each and every piece, and each of them radiates a charm and a swagger that, quite frankly, I wouldn't have expected. Of course, one also has to expect Karajan's typically glamorous manner, with many a long-breathed note and even more swooping phrases. It's OK: It does the music more good than harm.

The sound appears typical of EMI in the Fifties, leaning rather to the bright, thin side, but with plenty of sparkle and definition. A comparison to another Karajan disc in the EMI series (of Wagner orchestral music) made some twenty years later with Berlin reveals the newer disc sounding fuller and weightier, but not necessarily any better, especially musically.

On a further note, Warner Classics have recently made the album available for download, in whole or in part. So there's another option to consider, given that the EMI disc may now be hard to find.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here:

Debussy: La Mer (HQCD review)

Also, Ravel: Daphnis et Chloe, Suite No. 2; Berlioz: La Damnation de Faust, Part 2: Ballet des Sylphes. Leopold Stokowski, London Symphony Orchestra. HDTT HQCD.

Leopold Stokowski's Decca recording of Debussy's La Mer with the London Symphony is not the most graceful or poetic interpretation on record. For that, you'll want Martinon (EMI). But Stokowski is close. Stokowski's recording is not the most exciting, either. For that, you'll want Reiner (RCA or HDTT). But Stokowski is close. Stokowski's recording is not the most lush or glamorous you'll find. For that, you'll want Karajan (DG). But Stokowski is close. Stokowski's recording is not the most precise or analytical around. For that, you'll want Boulez (DG). But Stokowski is close. And Stokowski's recording is not the best recorded in the catalogue. For that, you'll want Previn (EMI). But Stokowski is close. In fact, Stokowski's Decca recording is so close in all of the above categories, it qualifies in my mind as the best overall choice in this work of anything available, and HDTT's remaster of it on the HQCD I reviewed makes it even better. It's a hard proposition to refuse.

French impressionist composer Claude Debussy (1862-1918) wrote La Mer between 1903 and 1905, and the work has since become one of his most well-known compositions. Certainly, it is one of his greatest and most descriptive pieces. Debussy named it La mer, trois esquisses symphoniques pour orchestre (or "The sea, three symphonic sketches for orchestra"), but usually people just call it La Mer.

Debussy said he wanted the first movement, "From dawn till noon on the sea," to be a little less showy than the other movements and added that the conductor should take it slowly and animate it little by little. It begins with a warmly atmospheric introduction and then opens up about halfway through to a rapturous melody. In this first movement, Stokowski provides a requisite enthusiasm, but he is careful not let this opening music upstage the climactic final movement. So, he reins it in a bit, producing a suggestive, atmospheric, picturesque, and wonderfully rhapsodic portrait of morning on the sea.

The composer intended the second movement, "Play of the waves," to sound light and carefree, the dancing waters luminescent and magical. He indicated it should be an allegro (a brisk, lively tempo), animated with a versatile rhythm. In reality, the second movement acts as a kind of slowish scherzo, although, to be fair, it isn't actually slow or fast. As its subtitle indicates, it's more playful than anything, with Stokowski delighting in the imaginative nuances of sea and air. This is Stokowski at his more charming: light and lyrical.

Leopold Stokowski

Then comes probably the most well-known segment of the work, the third-movement finale, "Dialogue between wind and waves," in which Debussy provided his biggest splashes of color and which he noted should sound animated and tumultuous. Here, Stokowski infuses the music with immense personality; but not necessarily his own--he infuses it with the composer's personality. The movement's rhythmic rises and falls appear perfectly timed, the cadences beautifully judged, the subtleties of wind and sea well expressed in contrasting dynamic shifts. The result is as pleasing, as relaxed, yet as intense as anything you'll find on record.

The accompanying items--Maurice Ravel's Daphnis et Chloe, Suite No. 2 and Hector Berlioz's Ballet des Sylphes--are equally appealing. Stokowski's Ravel, especially, sounds magical, rich, and luxuriant. It's the ideal complement to the Debussy. Still, it's the Debussy that steals the show and for which I strongly recommend the disc.

Producer Tony d'Amato and engineer Arthur Lilley recorded the music in June, 1970, at Kingsway Hall, London. HDTT (High Definition Tape Transfers) remastered and transferred it from a London Phase 4 four-track tape to a variety of formats (I reviewed the HQCD) in 2015.

It's the "Phase 4" business that may concern some audiophiles. According to Decca, "Phase 4 was a special series of recordings from the '60s and '70s which presented music in spectacularly vivid sound." And according to Wikipedia, the Decca sound of the time "was characterised by an aggressive use of the highest and lowest frequencies and a daring use of tape saturation and out-of-phase sound to convey a lively and impactful hall ambiance, plus considerable bar-to-bar rebalancing by the recording staff of orchestral voices, known as 'spotlighting.' In the 1960s and 1970s, the company developed its 'Phase 4' process, which produced even greater sonic impact through even more interventionist engineering techniques." The fact is, Phase 4 sound used multi-miking to the extreme, usually producing a close-up, compartmentalized sound field that dazzled some listeners with its lucidity and detail and infuriated others with its sometimes unnatural perspective. Love it or leave it, HDTT have transferred it to HQCD with their customary excellent results.

Using two separate CD players, I compared the HDTT disc to a London Phase 4 compact disc remastered by Decca in 1997. (If you want the Stokowski Debussy, you'll have to find a used copy of one of the several discs Decca or London issued; buy it in a big Decca box set of miscellaneous Stokowski material; or get this HDTT transfer. I recommend the HDTT.) Anyway, the listener need have no fears about the sound being too close or too analytical because it's not quite as drastic as some of Decca's Phase 4 releases. Here, the sound is reasonably realistic, at least from a near vantage point. More important, the HDTT product displays a touch more smoothness and clarity than my comparison disc. It's also quite clean (although both discs are, for that matter), with almost dead quiet backgrounds. As with many other Phase 4 recordings I've heard, the bass is not quite as deep as I'd like, but it's more than adequate and sounds taut and well controlled. Finally, I thought the HDTT transfer showed a hair more orchestral dimensionality and depth than the London CD. In other words, you will be happy with the HDTT remastering. It does credit to Stokowski's fine performance.

For further information on HDTT products, prices, discs, and downloads in a variety of formats, you can visit their Web site at http://www.highdeftapetransfers.com/.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here:

Berlioz: Symphonie Fantastique (CD review)

Also "Love Scene" from Romeo et Juliette. Paavo Jarvi, Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra. Telarc CD-80578.

One thing is clear: This is one the best-sounding Symphonie Fantastique you're going to find around. Whether you will take to the middle-of-the-road interpretation is another story. Paavo Jarvi was the Musical Director of the Cincinnati Symphony when he made this recording in October, 2000, and it marked his first appearance for Telarc Records. They recorded the work about a year prior to his officially taking over the orchestra, by the way. In any case, he brought a rich European tradition and a fresh new outlook to the orchestra, if not to the Berlioz.

As you probably know, French Romantic composer Hector Berlioz (1803-1869) wrote his Symphonie fantastique in 1830, and it quickly became one of the most influential pieces of music of all time. Combining the programmatic elements of predecessors like Vivaldi's Four Seasons and Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony and utilizing an enormous orchestral arrangement for well over a hundred players (Berlioz employed about 130 musicians for the première), the result was extraordinary for its time period. I suspect if the composer had had a wind machine, electronic instruments, and a light show available to him, he would have used them, too. Yet the music remains extraordinary for our own time as well, even though people have repeated and imitated it at length.

In the work's five movements, the young Berlioz (at the time in his mid twenties) wrote autobiographically of the hopeless love of a young man for a woman, the young man falling into a drug-induced dream, which the composer describes in his music. The woman reappears throughout the Symphonie in the form of an idée fixe, a "fixed idea" the young man cannot shake. The fourth and fifth movements in particular are tours de force of imagination and orchestral exuberance. The hero envisions that the court has convicted him of murdering his loved one, and his jailors are leading him to the scaffold for hanging. Then, in the finale, the "Witches' Sabbath," the fates seem to have committed the young lover to some kind of purgatory or hell for his crime of passion, where he sees his beloved among the witches.

Paavo Jarvi

Maestro Jarvi handles all of this in a gentler, more poetic manner than many of his competitors, and perhaps that is why calling his performance "middle-of-the-road," as I did above, is being somewhat unfair. It is a pretty good realization of the work, full of excitement and passion of varying degrees. It's just that it doesn't quite open up Berlioz's bizarre fantasies as well as the four comparison discs I had on hand, which are better examples of the inventiveness this work needs. Jarvi tends to pale somewhat in their shadow. The four comparisons I used were Sir Colin Davis's second Concertgebouw reading (Philips), a remarkably mature performance; Leonard Bernstein's Orchestre National de France disc (EMI or Hi-Q), a fiery performance; John Eliot Gardiner's original instruments rendition with the Orchestre Revolutionaire et Romantique (Philips), also an animated reading; and, my favorite, Sir Thomas Beecham's French Radio National Orchestra recording (EMI), noted for its colorful interpretation. Next to these chaps, Jarvi comes off as rather straightforward--lyrical, to be sure, but also a bit matter-of-fact and to the point. Which is not at all bad, just maybe not a first choice in this repertoire. The coupling is pleasant, too.

Nevertheless, where the two-channel stereo Telarc disc scores over its rivals is in the audio department. Particularly when Jarvi reaches the final two show-stopping, stereo-spectacular movements, "The March to the Scaffold" and "The Witches' Sabbath." In these sections we can hear the effects of the extra-wide dynamic range of the Telarc release, the strong dynamic impact, the spacious dimensionality, and, of course, the famous Telarc bass drum. That said, I must admit that the Gardiner recording came close sonically, Gardiner always favoring a wide dynamic range in his recordings, anyway. Still and all, the Davis disc held its own, too, in everything but the final moments, and the Beecham sounded good as well; but the Bernstein seemed a little thin, comparatively, even in its Hi-Q audiophile realization. Perhaps people will purchase this Telarc recording primarily as a demonstration piece; whatever, it's one that can provide ample musical entertainment as well.

JJP

To listen to several brief excerpts from this album, click here:

Berlioz: Symphonie fantastique (CD review)

Yoav Talmi, San Diego Symphony Orchestra. Naxos 8.553597.

A little over a decade ago while the rest of the classical recording industry was in decline, Naxos persisted in releasing a multitude of new discs every month. This 2002 release of the Symphonie fantastique with Yoav Talmi and the San Diego Symphony is a good example of why they were able to do this when everyone around them seemed to be falling apart. The orchestra is not world renowned, but it is quite capable. The conductor is not world renowned, but he is quite competent. The sound is not earthshaking, but it is better than many of the albums the bigger studios were producing at the time. And lest we forget, the price of Naxos discs has always been more than right.

French composer Hector Berlioz (1802-1869) wrote his semi-autobiographical Symphonie fantastique in 1830 with a much-augmented ensemble for the day and in orchestral tones only hinted at by previous composers. It took audiences by surprise back then and has been delighting folks ever since. Of course, after hearing so many different conductors and orchestras performing it over the years, it's hard truly to surprise most ears anymore. Talmi is no exception. His interpretation seems to me capable but not a little perfunctory. He carries out the waltz in "Un Bal," for example, with a nice lilt, but the "Marche to the Scaffold" appears too deadpan and the "Witch's Sabbath" not nearly as menacing as it could be.

Yoav Talmi

For comparison purposes, I listened again to Sir Thomas Beecham's account (EMI), Leonard Bernstein's (Hi-Q), Sir Colin Davis's (Pentatone, or any of the three he did and the second one with the Concertgebouw in particular), and John Eliot Gardiner (Philips, with period instruments). Under these better-known conductors this old warhorse offers a lot more color and excitement than Talmi brings to it. What's more, you'll also find that the orchestras involved in the comparisons produce a bigger, richer, more well-balanced sound than the San Diego group do.

On the other hand, Talmi's performance is more than adequate for anyone who has never heard the work before and is looking for a good, fairly inexpensive digital starting place.

The sound Naxos engineers provide is close to first-rate. I say "close" because I found that it too often highlights too many instruments. It begins to sound artificial as first one and then another section of the orchestra comes to the forefront in volume. Other than that, the sound is clean and dynamic, with especially good, solid bass. Audiophiles sometimes use the Symphonie fantastique as demo material, especially the last two movements, and almost anyone would understand why after listening to this recording. Even though the miking is a little close and compartmentalized, the sound makes a good impact.

This would not be my first choice in this work, but the buyer could hardly go too wrong with it, either.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here:

Overtures in Hi-Fi (CD review)

Saint-Saens, Berlioz, Adam, Herold, Reznicek, Suppe, Nicolai, Auber. Albert Wolff, Orchestre de L'Opera-Comique, Paris and Paris Conservatoire Orchestra. Decca Eloquence 480 2385 (2-disc set).

First, the only bad news: Decca made two of these recordings a few years before the widespread use of stereo. Thus, we get a couple of pieces in monaural sound, the rest in stereo. Now, the good news: All of the music sounds extremely good and is worth an audition.

Overtures in Hi-Fi is one of several two-disc sets of older material Decca are releasing on the "Eloquence" label out of Australia. This is a blessing for those of us who enjoy the Decca sound of the Fifties and Sixties and a double blessing at the more-than-reasonable price point we find the album. Now, on to the content.

Although the French maestro Albert Wolff (1884-1970) may not have been one of the most well-known conductors of his generation, he did record a number of basic items from the French repertoire for Decca, thanks largely I suppose to his work with the orchestras represented in this set, the Orchestre de L'Opera-Comique and the Paris Conservatoire Orchestra. The two discs include sixteen items, all of which Wolff presents with an elegant verve and excitement.

The program begins with the overtures to La Princess Jaune ("The Yellow Princess") by Camille Saint-Saens and Benvenuto Cellini by Hector Berlioz, these particular overtures being rather odd choices to start things off because they're both in mono from 1951. You see, nowhere on the front or back covers nor in the booklet itself do the folks at Decca mention the words "mono" or "stereo" at all, so unless the casual buyer looked closely at the fine print to notice that two of the selections came from the very early Fifties, the buyer would have no idea there were any items in monaural at all. Then, to be confronted with the two mono recordings right off the bat might prove a little discouraging. Fortunately, the performances are so animated, their sheer energy alone would probably win over a listener; but, still, it makes one wonder what the Decca producers were thinking. Maybe because they are the only tracks representing Wolff's work with the Orchestre de L'Opera-Comique the producers thought it would be logical to include them chronologically first. I dunno.

From here on, we get the rest of the program in stereo, with overtures to Le Corsaire, Le roi Lear, Le carnaval romain, and Les francs-juges by Berlioz and Si j'etais roi by Adolphe Adam, which brings the first disc to a rousing close. You'll find these Berlioz selections some of the most energetic and spirited versions you'll hear from anyone, with wonderfully judged tempos, rhythms, and dynamic contrasts. The set is almost worth the asking price just for these tracks alone.

Disc two opens with Ferdinand Herold's Zampa, a particular crowd pleaser, which forces the listener again to question why Decca didn't begin the proceedings with it back on disc one. Under Wolff, Zampa has almost too much energy, but that's no doubt what Herold wanted and certainly what audiences expect. Wolff's interpretation of things has all the pompous, aggressive swagger you'd expect of the opera's infamous pirate protagonist.

Next is music I've known from childhood, the overture to Donna Dianna by Emil Nikolaus Reznicek. This is because the old radio and TV program Sergeant Preston of the Yukon used it throughout their shows, and I was an ardent fan. Wolff brings back memories, and I still can't listen to the main tune without thinking of swirling snowdrifts and high adventure. "Well, King, this case is closed."

And so it goes, through Pique Dame by Franz von Suppe; Die Lustigen von Windsor by Otto Nicolai; and Le Domino noir, Masaniello, Le cheval de bronze, Fra diavolo, and Les diamants de la couronne by Daniel-Francois-Esprit Auber. Of these, Fra diavolo stands out for me because of its special confidence and verve. Wolff handles it beautifully.

With 144 minutes of music on the two discs, the set surely counts as a great value, whether you appreciate the occasional mono selections or not.

Decca recorded the music at La Maison de la Mutualite, Paris between 1951 and 1957, using some of their best producers (John Culshaw, Victor Olof, and James Walker) and engineers (Kenneth Wilkinson, James Brown, Roy Wallace, and Ken Cress). Mono or not, the sound is typical early Fifties Decca, meaning it has good body, presence, definition, and dimensionality, made before the company began using 800 microphones for each recording session. There is little or no background noise when listening to these selections at a normal volume level. Turned higher, one notices a small degree of hiss. Highs sound especially well extended, even in the two mono selections. In the stereo numbers, the left-right spread is wide, the bass is powerful, and the imaging is fairly realistic. With strong dynamics and a reasonably clean transient response, the sound comes across as quite lifelike.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here:

Berlioz: Symphonie fantastique (XRCD24/K2 review)

Leonard Bernstein, Orchestre National de France. Hi-Q Records HIQXRCD14.

Before we begin, I have to admit this EMI recording by Leonard Bernstein and the French National Orchestra of Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique is not my absolute favorite performance. That honor goes to Sir Thomas Beecham and the French National Radio Orchestra, recorded some years earlier, also for EMI. However, the good news is that Bernstein’s rendition is my second-favorite performance, so even though it sightly miffs me that the audiophile label Hi-Q didn’t remaster the Beecham, I’m still glad they choose the Bernstein. They could have done worse.

French composer Hector Berlioz (1803-1869) wrote the Symphonie fantastique in 1830, and it didn’t take long to become one of the most influential pieces of music of all time. With programmatic elements similar to earlier works like Vivaldi’s Four Seasons and Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony and using a huge orchestral arrangement for well over a hundred players (I’ve read that Berlioz employed about 130 musicians for the première), the result must have been extraordinary for its time. Nevertheless, it’s not really a traditional symphony; it’s more like a psychodrama in five movements, wherein the young Berlioz writes autobiographically of the hopeless love of a young man for a woman, the young man falling into a drug-induced dream, which the composer describes in his music. The woman reappears throughout the Symphonie in the form of an idée fixe, a “fixed idea” the young man cannot shake, a musical innovation Berlioz used to advantage and one that later composers like Richard Wagner used extensively.

In any case, Maestro Bernstein approaches the score with a sympathetic dynamism, an understanding that Berlioz was something of a wild man of music, mercurial and capricious. As these qualities underscore many of Bernstein’s own early recordings, the conductor and composer would seem to be a perfect match for one another. Some listeners, however, might prefer a more straightforward account of the music and for them I would recommend Sir Colin Davis (Philips or PentaTone), while other people might want a less-vigorous and more-atmospheric interpretation, and for them I would suggest the aforementioned Beecham. Meanwhile, we have Bernstein to consider.

Berlioz called the opening movement Reveries--Passions, describing the dejected romantic lover of the score conjuring up opium dreams and nightmares of his lost love. Bernstein's "Reveries" are more passionate than many conductors', yet for all their vigor by the close they still convey a strong spiritual conviction.

The second movement describes a ball in which the young man catches a flash of his beloved. This scene also benefits from Bernstein's emphasis on the music's contrasts. Without distorting the music, the conductor playfully captures all the shimmer and seduction of the dance and the hero's brief, tantalizing glimpse of his loved one.

After that is the scene in the country, a long, slow Adagio. In it, the young man sees a pair of shepherds playing a pipe melody to call their flock, and all is well until, as always, the young man notices his love in the picture, and the music takes a sudden turn. Here, Bernstein manages to make the music more attractive than some conductors do, never allowing it to drag or wallow in too much sentiment while still maintaining its nostalgic, melancholy tone.

Finally, we come to the two movements that audiophiles love most because they bubble over with so much busy, vigorous energy and orchestral flourish. They’re ideal for showing off one’s audio system, and what better way to do it than with an audiophile remaster. The March to the Scaffold brings the young man to his death for the murder of his beloved, and the Witches’ Sabbath finds the poor fellow at Judgment Day in hell. Bernstein generates some genuine electricity in these movements. His depiction of the hero's long green mile to the blade is deeply moving rather than jaunty or comical; moreover, he produces the most-terrifying vision of hell of any conductor I've heard. This Witches' Sabbath is downright scary. The bells! The bells!

The Hi-Q packaging is deluxe, too, the disc housed in a glossy, heavy-duty Digipak-type case, with booklet notes bound to the inside and the disc to the back cover.

EMI producer John Mordler and engineer Paul Vavasseur recorded the music at the Salle Wagram, Paris in November, 1976. Hi-Q Records, Resonance Recordings Limited, and JVC remastered and rereleased the audiophile edition of the album in 2013, using JVC’s XRCD/K2 processing system. Having the original EMI CD on hand for comparison helped in determining the sonic improvements in the Hi-Q product.

From my listening, the Hi-Q appeared more vivid, with a wider dynamic range and stronger transient impact. Those are among the qualities we generally associate with audiophile remasters, and the remaster comes closer to what one presumes is the sound of the master tape. Of course, without the master tape on hand for comparison, it's impossible to know which transfer is most accurate, but it's clear which version sounds best in the end. In this case, that would be the Hi-Q. Then the Hi-Q adds in a tighter bass, greater detail, and a smoother overall response to solidify further its dominance.  Indeed, the Hi-Q disc makes the regular EMI issue sound almost dull. I'm not entirely sure one could identify these differences with only the Hi-Q disc playing, but in a direct, side-by-side comparison they are clearly audible. Interestingly, neither version displays the best orchestral depth or midrange transparency, further conditions of the master tape, no doubt.

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here:

JJP