by Bill Heck
Pytor Tchaikovsky: Symphonies 4, 5, and 6. David Bernard,
conductor; Park Avenue Chamber Symphony.
Recursive Classics
Here’s a fascinating set: Tchaikovsky’s last three
symphonies, played by a lesser-known but quite capable orchestra led by an
imaginative conductor with an innovative approach, all recorded with a sound
that differs considerably from what we might call the norm. Let’s see how it
all works.
Long-time readers of
Classical Candor will recognize
the conductor and ensemble here, as my colleague JJP has reviewed several of
their releases in the past; for others, here’s a quick refresher. First, the orchestra:
the “Chamber Symphony” part of the name might lead one to think that this is a
small ensemble. But no, this is a typically sized American orchestra, with
about 80 players for standard repertoire. The conductor, David Bernard, may not
be as instantly recognizable as some of his contemporaries in the “majors,” but
he has imagination and, as my colleague JJP said in recommending the current
set to me, he “doesn't seem content with merely being routine or ordinary.”
In a generous email conversation, Maestro Bernard told me
the following about his approach: he "focuses on bringing out the
transparency of the counterpoint in the voices....much of the work is revealed
through this horizontal dimension, unlocking aspects of the work that are often
not heard otherwise. Achieving this requires some adjustment to balances...but
also in the concept of sound in the strings.
The typical big and heavy sound, laden with wide vibrato serves as a fog
to the listener — preventing hearing the contrapuntal texture... Ironically, it
is [in] Tchaikovsky...that musicians often gravitate to the sound that robs the
listener of this fundamental aspect of this music." Let’s see how this
translates for Tchaikovsky’s most famous, and likely most often recorded,
orchestral works.
The set starts with the Fourth Symphony, but I’m starting
this review with the second work in the set, the Fifth Symphony, for reasons
that we’ll cover below.
What one immediately notices is that neither the conductor,
the ensemble, nor the recording engineers seem to be striving for a "big"
sound, particularly with the strings; presumably that's in keeping
with the notion of balance and transparency discussed above. (I do not
mean to imply that the sound is malnourished; it's not.) Instead, it didn’t take long to
hear that the more balanced approach creates a personal, "you are
there" feel; moreover, the recording seems close, though not unnaturally
so, without excessive reverberation, resulting in an even more immersive
experience than might be typical. The result is an intimate atmosphere for an
interpretation that feels like a musical conversation between composer and
listener. All this was apparent in the very first measures, where the music seems
to ruminate for a moment on the recurring notion (and motive) of fate before finally
accelerating, not too early, into the body of the work.
In the same vein, throughout the performance there are
dynamic contrasts aplenty – not because louder segments blow us away, but
because quieter measures speak softly and even intimately. The second movement,
marked andante cantabile, really does sing without shouting. In the third movement, the
waltz flows and sways as waltzes should, but here there was something else, something subtle. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I heard the slightest undertone of
that recurring sense of fate: the waltzer going through the motions and
trying to enjoy the dance, but knowing deep inside that, as Tchaikovsky wrote, in
the end fate cannot be escaped; we are destined for unhappiness amid the joy.
The finale goes relatively quickly: in keeping with Bernard’s thoughts in the
booklet that accompanies the CDs, Tchaikovsky is not just whistling past the
graveyard but is determined, as an existentialist might have it, that we create
our lives by striving against fate. I may be waxing too philosophical here, but
I’m on firmer ground in saying that the playing of the Park Avenue forces is energetic,
exhibiting passion and drive. Indeed, one of my criteria for determining if I
really enjoyed a performance is whether I find myself physically reacting, often air conducting – and I did. (By the way, I do try to avoid such reactions at
live concerts!)
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David Bernard conducting
Tchaikosky's Fourth Symphony
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One other point of interest: intuitively, one might suppose
that the Fifth Symphony is the one that most needs those heavy strings. After all, just
think of that grand
Finale, a march of triumph, the music striding forward! Well, the Park Avenue forces can generate some power
of their own, but we see here that the contrasts, showing off Tchaikovsky’s
kaleidoscope of instrumental color, truly give the work its interest and
bring us on board, while the triumph still is there to celebrate.
The performance here of the Sixth Symphony was originally
released in 2018 and reviewed at that time by JJP, but the recording has been
remastered for the current set. (I held off reading John’s review until after I
had completed my listening.) It begins with a quiet introduction that sounds almost eerie, emerging from dead silence with the initial tune floating
above the quietest of rumbles from the basses. The effect is to draw in the
listener, again with that sense of a conversation with the composer.
The timing of the first movement is nothing unusual at almost exactly 18
minutes, but the tempi are free, shifting to fit the music. The second
movement, marked Allegro Con Grazia, is indeed graceful; the famous 5/4
"limping waltz" is nicely done, with particularly expressive playing from the
horns and woodwinds. The third movement, Allegro Molto Vivace, is lively, taken at an almost frantic pace, but never sounding out of control. Again,
throughout these inner movements, the well-balanced approach and the close-up
recording allow the listener to hear all the details of Tchaikovsky's
incredible orchestration, details that can be swamped in a more homogenized
environment.
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| Park Avenue Chamber Symphony |
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The final movement also opens with a tempo that seems a
little faster than often heard, shading the emotion just a bit away from the
pure anguish that some interpretations evoke. But at this point, I am forced to
admit to failure in my critical process. Normally, as I listen for review I
take notes as I go along. I had managed to do so at a few points earlier in
this performance, but past the first few measures of the
Finale, I
failed utterly – multiple times. Thank goodness I can blame it all on Maestro
Bernard and the Park Avenue forces: I was so involved in listening, so wrapped
up in the music, that I completely forgot to think critically; indeed, I may
have been incapable of critical thought as the last notes slowly died into
silence. To put it more succinctly, I have rarely heard any recording that was
so thoroughly engaging and that produced such deep emotional connection.
Now back to the Fourth Symphony. Here I need to admit that,
while I can appreciate the place of this work in Tchaikovsky's development as a
composer and certainly see much musical value in the piece, this just isn't a
work that really does it for me. (This is in sharp contrast to the Fifth and
Sixth Symphonies.) With this in mind, I trust that you, dear reader, along with the conductor and
players will forgive me for rather abbreviated comments. Suffice it to say that
the overall approach is consistent with the other symphonies, with well-judged
tempi and clarity throughout. My impression is that there is perhaps slightly
less energy, less drive here than in the other two works – but here I fear that
my cool reaction to the composition influences my perception of the playing. In
general, though, the approach is consistent with what we hear in the other
two works: balance and coherence within the context of a first-rate
performance. And with that, I’ll let this one go: surely those more fond of the
Fourth Symphony than I will find much to enjoy here.
By the way, astute readers will have noticed that, in the preceding paragraphs, I have mentioned few performance
details, such as tempi and their variations or highlighting of this phrase or
that. That’s because for me, and for purposes of this review, the big news is
the balance and recorded perspective that are so different from what one often encounters
and are so revealing of inner voices. Don’t
get me wrong: the performance details are well-judged and well-executed, and I
don’t mean to dismiss them, but my focus here is on the overall presentation,
the freshness of the approach.
So it's perfect, right? Of course not: there are a few
infelicities and quibbles here and there, as one always expects. I did
occasionally note a minor issue with the recorded sound, mostly in the Fourth, with
a slight overemphasis on the horns and lower brass that could lean
toward a “honky” or nasal sound. Indeed, the recorded sound does seem to vary
slightly across the three works, with my own preference being 6-5-4 in that
order. (To assess the aforementioned remastering of the Sixth, I did a quick comparison: I think that I heard a slight improvement in clarity and a little better balance across the tonal spectrum, but the changes were subtle. If you already have the 2018 version, there's no need to rush out and get the new one.) In
any case, when we put it all together, we have a Fourth that at the very least
should interest fans of that work, which likely is everyone but me; a Fifth
that you really should hear for a different, revealing, and enjoyable take; and
a Sixth that might just bowl you over. All in all, easily recommendable.
Note: this set is available on major streaming services and as a download from music sales sites such as Presto Music. A preview and streaming links for this set can be found on the conductor's website.
Addendum: Maestro Bernard has kindly provided a link to a digital version of the booklet for this release.
