Beethoven: Symphonies Nos. 7 & 8 (SACD review)

Jan Willem de Vriend, The Netherlands Symphony Orchestra. Challenge Classics SACD CC72500.

Although we get quite a few recordings of the Beethoven Seventh and Eighth Symphonies, often coupled together, we don't get too many recorded in SACD multichannel stereo. Therefore, for fans of the SACD medium, as well as for fans of Beethoven, we can welcome this Challenge Classics disc with the Netherland Symphony Orchestra.

Interestingly, it was just a few years ago that we got the same coupling from conductor Bertrand de Billy and the Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra on an OehmsClassics SACD. Maybe that SACD recording succeeded well enough to prompt this one, I don't know.

In any case, the Netherlands Symphony Orchestra uses select period instruments, and Jan Willem de Vriend, its chief conductor since 2006, follows period-music practices to help make eighteenth and nineteenth-century works seem as close as possible to how they may have originally sounded. The results are not quite like those of a full-on period-instruments ensemble, but they're close enough.

Things begin with the Symphony No. 7 in A major, Op. 92, which Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) wrote in 1812 and has since become one of his most-popular pieces. De Vriend opens the symphony with as vigorous and dashing a delivery as anybody could want, with kudos here to the percussion section who hammer this one home in high style. In the ensuing Allegretto, interpreted either as a funeral march or a procession through the catacombs, the conductor again provides a highly rhythmic beat, moving a little faster than we may be accustomed to hearing and emphasizing the dynamic contrasts more than ever. It makes an imposing statement.

In the Presto, De Vriend is again fleet-footed, apparently taking Beethoven's tempo markings at face value and working up a healthy head of steam. The final movement is justifiably one of the great triumphs of jubilant merrymaking in music, and De Vriend produces a considerable amount of ebullient energy. This Seventh is among the finest I've heard in some time, and while it breaks no new ground, it surely conjures up wonderfully high spirits.

Beethoven wrote his Symphony No. 8 in F major, Op. 93, in the summer of 1812, finishing it just shortly after he completed the Symphony No. 7. You'd think by its cheerful tone that the composer was in the best, happiest years of his life when he wrote this pair of symphonies when, in fact, both physical and emotional strains were troubling him. Whatever, the Eighth has always taken something of a backseat to the two great symphonies that sandwich it front and back. Still, it's remarkably bubbly and exuberant.

Under De Vriend, the Eighth is amiable and festive, its forward thrust always pointed and right, its mood always buoyant, if not always as sweet as it might be. The second-movement ticking of the metronome (legend has it that Beethoven was paying tribute here to the inventor of the instrument) moving at a brisk but somewhat perfunctory gait. The third movement is appropriately stately and the finale joyous. Nevertheless, this performance of the Eighth seems more like one to admire rather than to love.

In terms of sound, the Challenge Classics engineers recorded the performances at Muziekcentrum Enschede, Netherlands, in 2008 (No. 8) and 2010 (No. 7). In both works, the company provide nicely balanced SACD sonics, which the listener may play either in two-channel stereo as I did or in multichannel if you have the appropriate playback equipment. In two-channel stereo, the sound is excellent: vibrant, detailed, and dynamic. The stereo spread is quite wide, and the sonics make a strong impact, with decent bass, extended highs, and a clean midrange. Moreover, a sense of stage depth adds to the realism. The sound may be big, yet it's not overwhelming; it's just the right size and breadth to allow listeners to feel as though they are at the performance. A good separation of instruments without sounding compartmentalized, a feeling of air, and a mild hall resonance continue the illusion.

JJP

Liszt: My Piano Hero (CD review)

Piano Concerto No. 1; various solo pieces. Lang Lang, piano; Valery Gergiev, Vienna Philharmonic. Sony Classical 88697891402 (with bonus DVD).

In the past twenty-odd years Chinese pianist Lang Lang has become something of a phenomenon, an international superstar beloved of millions of classical and nonclassical fans alike. In the booklet note to the 2011 album reviewed here, Liszt: My Piano Hero, he says his greatest inspiration as a pianist was watching a Tom and Jerry cartoon featuring Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2. Lang goes on to say, "Liszt is my hero! He changed classical music completely. As a performer he revolutionised piano playing, and as a composer he opened the door to modern music. As a teacher he was influential well into the 20th century, because many great artists were pupils of his pupils, or their pupils in a third generation." Fair enough, and Lang proves his admiration for the composer by devoting the album to an almost all-Liszt program of solo and concerto works.

The disc begins with a series of short solo numbers by the subject of the album, Hungarian composer and pianist Franz Liszt (1811-1886). Lang Lang alternates slow and fast pieces, soft and loud, playing them delicately, brilliantly, or showily as the occasion dictates, with all the passion and feeling we figure on from him, though never overdone. The opening Romance in E minor, for instance, is sweetly evocative. La Campanella in G-sharp minor is sprightly and strong. The Consolation No. 3 in D-flat major is aptly melancholy and moody. Then the Grand Galop chromatique in E-flat major does just that: gallop across the sound stage in high spirits.

And so it goes, with the celebrated Lieberstraum No. 3 in A-flat major as dreamy as ever and Lang adding just the right amount of gravity and weight to it to make it seem more than just light filler. After a couple of rousing Hungarian Rhapsodies for Piano (Nos. 6 and 15), Lang briefly forsakes Liszt for Schubert (Ave Maria) and returns for Liszt's piano transcription of Wagner's Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde.

The CD ends with the Piano Concerto No. 1 in E-flat major, which under Lang is every bit as heroic and triumphant as we expect it to be. Here, we find Lang Lang supported by Valery Gergiev and the Vienna Philharmonic, one of the world's genuinely great orchestras. The result is taut and romantic, with perfectly judged tempos and emotionally charged phrases. It's a moving, stirring, engaging interpretation, including a wonderfully lyrical and flowing central movement and a chipper finale.

So how does the relatively young (as of this writing, he had not yet turned thirty) Lang Lang stack up against some of his more-illustrious older colleagues: Argerich, Ashkenazy, Brendel, Kovacevich, Pollini, and the like (or even those closer to his age like Kissin, Grimaud, Pletnev, and the rest)? Well, Lang is surely more flamboyant than most, even in so toned down an album as this one of Liszt. It remains for us to see how well Lang's rock-star celebrity status will hold up in the long run, say in another thirty years.

Anyway, in addition to the compact disc, the Digipak set includes a bonus DVD titled A Day with My Piano Hero, about eleven-and-a-half minutes, which follows the pianist as he practices, plays, and fusses about the album he's making. This one is for dedicated Lang Lang fans only.

The sound of the piano solos, recorded in April, 2011, at Teldex Studio, Berlin, Germany, is excellent, the piano appearing firm and glowing yet with good detail, clarity, and impact. It's an exceptionally realistic recording, miked at a moderate distance that doesn't stretch the instrument across one's listening area, while easily filling the room with a pleasantly ambient acoustic. Note, however, that because the music displays a wide dynamic range, you may find yourself having to readjust the volume on occasion. It's a small price to pay for the realism of the presentation.

Sony recorded the Piano Concerto in concert in June, 2011, at the Musikverein, Vienna, Austria, and here things are not quite as good as the studio solos. In order to minimize audience noise, the audio engineers recorded the Concerto rather closely, so the whole thing is kind of in our lap. Still, the miking provides a clean, fairly transparent sound without being hard, bright, or edgy. The sonics do, however, seem somewhat constricted in climaxes, the dynamics not expanding as we might hope. Nor are the frequency extremes, bass and treble, as extended as they might have been. Thankfully, the folks at Sony did not include any distracting audience noise or any final applause.

JJP

The Golden Age of Hollywood (CD review)

Here Come the Classics, Volume Seventeen. Roderick Elms, piano; Jose Serebrier, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. RPO 017 CD.

I didn't know this: The Royal Philharmonic's own RPO label has a series it's doing called "Here Come the Classics," and they're up to number seventeen, the current volume called "The Golden Age of Hollywood" and devoted, obviously, to the musical scores of classic movies. Conductor Jose Serebrier seems to be having a grand old time with the music, too, treating it as seriously as if it were Beethoven or Stravinsky and providing it with all the color and pizzazz it needs.

The album contains fifteen tracks covering excerpts or suites from eleven films, all of them done up in fine fashion. As for the music, take your pick of favorite scores; here are a few of mine, starting with a nine-minute highlights suite from Max Steiner's Casablanca, with an emphasis on a piano fantasia based on "As Time Goes By," with pianist Roderick Elms.

Another favorite of mine is a four-movement suite from Bernard Herrmann's music for Psycho. The disc provides four separate tracks for various themes--the Prelude, "The Stairs," "The Murder," and the finish. It all sounds quite effective, with Serebrier maintaining a vivid forward thrust.  Eeek! Eeeek! Eeeeek!

Next, Miklos Rozsa's "Parade of the Charioteers" from Ben-Hur is appropriately gaudy and grand. But probably the most-influential music in the set is Erich Wolfgang Korngold's score for the Errol Flynn film The Sea Hawk. The swashbuckling opening theme is so memorable, I doubt that we'd have half the music of John Williams without it.

Then it's on to the movie hardly anyone remembers, Dangerous Moonlight, with the music almost everyone knows, Richard Addinsell's faux-romantic "Warsaw Concerto." Pianist Elms and Maestro Serebrier play it as though Liszt or Rachmaninov had written it, and again it impresses one with its melodic invention.

The program ends with "Tara's Theme" from Max Steiner's score for Gone with the Wind and then Elmer Bernstein's Overture for The Magnificent Seven. In between these items, you'll also hear music from The Big Country, Spellbound, The Guns of Navarone, and Taxi Driver. Serebrier may be aging but he hasn't slowed down, his interpretations as vigorous as the movies' original soundtracks.

The sound, recorded at Waterford Colosseum, London, in 2005 is very big and very wide to match the scope of the movies involved. There's a solid bottom end, if not too deep or strong; a slightly thick upper bass; a smooth midrange; and an extended if somewhat tizzy high end. The latter trait is an odd distraction in an otherwise fine sonic picture, and it left my ears ringing a little by the end of my listening session. The acoustic offers a reasonable sense of depth for the orchestra and a wide dynamic range, too, making a respectable showing on the audio side if you tone down the treble a bit. The catch came when I compared the RPO sound to a similarly themed album I had on hand, Film Spectacular! Vol. 2, a Decca Phase-4 recording from 1963. The older recording, although done up in a much more-expensive remastering from FIM, sounded clearer, cleaner, more dimensional, more dynamic, you name it. And it didn't leave my ears ringing. Maybe if you want the best, you pay for it.

Finally, the RPO disc boasts a terrific set of booklet notes on each of the films and composers represented, which alone may be worth the price of the album.

JJP