Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 5 (CD review)

Also, Francesca da Rimini. Paavo Jarvi, Tonhalle Orchester Zurich. Alpha 659.

By Bill Heck

I confess that, when it comes to performances led by Paavo Jarvi, I may be a homer. We lived for eleven years in southwestern Ohio and had season tickets for the Cincinnati Orchestra where Jarvi was the music director. I cannot comment on what the band was like before Jarvi arrived, but it was awfully good during his tenure, and his (their?) interpretations suited us well. Thus it was that Paavo Jarvi’s countenance looking out from the cover of this Alpha release grabbed my attention, and so here we are.

While Jarvi was in Cincinnati, the orchestra recorded for Telarc. Many of the recordings in that series were conducted by the late Erich Kunzel, perhaps the most famous (notorious?) of those being the 1812 Overture – you know, the one with the booming canons that gave your subwoofer a true workout. However, the orchestra did record more “serious” repertoire under Jarvi, including Tchaikovsky’s Sixth Symphony. I found that performance good but not great, but it was a long time ago – how has his approach to Tchaikovsky’s music changed since then?

A few years ago, Jarvi left Cincinnati, subsequently assuming leadership of the Tonhalle Orchestra of Zurich. (No need to feel sorry for Cincinnati: the new music director, Louis Langree, is a very able replacement, and the newly renovated Music Hall sounds fabulous.) Among other projects, the Jarvi/Tonhalle partnership in Zurich has begun a cycle of the Tchaikovsky symphonies on the Alpha label, the Fifth being the first release.

As to the conception here, let me quote from Jarvi’s own description: “When I think of the Fifth Symphony, I think of vulnerability and hope. It looks directly into our soul….Unlike the Sixth, the Fifth still holds out hope for life.” This statement seems an apt description of what one hears on this very fine recording.

Usually, our reviews start with descriptions of the music, often stepping through the movements of a work pointing out highlights or idiosyncrasies of interpretation, with recorded sound mentioned last, almost as a footnote. In this case however, it's worth talking about the sound right up front because it contributes so greatly to the overall result. The major point is that I don’t recall ever hearing a recording that provides so much insight into the intricate inner voices of the orchestra. It is a commonplace that Tchaikovsky was a master of orchestral color, and in live performances, the attentive listener usually can pick out the various parts easily. In recordings, however, too often it is difficult to hear the inner details, particularly in loud, complex passages. Here, with what I suspect is a combination of some slight rearrangement of the players as well as careful miking of the orchestra, the brass and especially the woodwinds are more audible than usual. (Rearranging orchestral forces on the stage is not so unusual as some may think. There's nothing sacred about typical arrangements.) In whatever way the effect was produced, the result is revelatory.

I should add that the general quality of the recording is excellent, with very natural and uncompressed sound. Then too, the liner notes tell us that the recording was done live, but nary a distracting cough can be heard nor is post-performance applause audible. Audiences in Zurich must be exceedingly well-behaved.

Now, on to the performance. For many listeners, the touchstone recordings of the last two Tchaikovsky symphonies are the Mravinsky/Leningrad versions. For their time in 1960, the sound is quite good, but the interpretations are what make these recordings so special. In the case of the Fifth, the performance crackles with energy and passion, roaring through the piece at a blistering 42:08 and leaving the listener drained, or maybe overwhelmed. Jarvi’s approach is not quite so overtly passionate and it certainly is slower at 47:53, but that’s hardly surprising: everyone takes it slower than Mravinsky. (For a few comparisons, Gergiev is a leisurely 51:29, Honeck moves quickly at 46:06, and Neeme Jarvi is like son, like father at 47:24.)

Tchaikovsky himself spoke of a “surrender to Fate” in connection with this work. In keeping with the Fate motif, Jarvi’s opening is quite slow and played very, very softly at first: we are stepping gingerly out and peeking around the corner to see what Fate is up to. But things soon accelerate and, while Jarvi and the Tonhalle do not quite throw off sparks like the Leningrad group, they still bring plenty of feeling to the performance. Despite the differences in timing, I heard Jarvi’s phrasing and approach as fairly similar to Mravinsky’s – until the finale, where Mravinsky takes off at an incredible, almost shocking pace. Jarvi gives the music plenty of energy, but not like that – which is not necessarily a bad thing.

Independently of tempo, the fourth movement also is where interpretive differences among many performances are most obvious. The finale concludes a work that has vacillated between anxiety and hesitation on one hand and hope and determination on the other; the final movement supposedly represents “ultimate victory through strife.” The obvious reading thus comes down on the side of affirmation. But there is another reading, one that implies that the hope is superficial; that whistles past the graveyard; that swaggers along with false confidence, fearing that darkness and even despair lurk just underneath the surface. (Of course, there is no one correct view: surely a hallmark of great art is that it is open to multiple interpretations.) As the earlier quotation from Jarvi implies, this performance is in the former camp, emphasizing the positive and building a majestic soundscape for that view.

At this point in the review, it is common to call out a few illustrative details of the performance, either to praise some particularly felicitous phrasings or to pick some especially annoying nits. Frustratingly – for me, not so much for you – I found it difficult to carry out this duty. At the risk of sounding as though I am copping out completely, I found passage after passage nicely judged and well-played, with the Zurich forces producing music that seemed to flow naturally without calling attention to the conducting or playing. Indeed, it was only after several hearings that I became truly conscious of just how well-rehearsed and very much together the orchestra sounds: phrases start and stop precisely, accents are on the nose, with the musicians playing as one. Great playing like that does not call attention to itself, but instead keeps the attention on the music.

At this point, the astute reader will have noticed that I have yet to mention the second work on the disk, Francesca da Rimini. True, but let’s face it: the Fifth is the main attraction here. In brief, the Francesca is a solid, well-played performance – but I don’t find it as engaging or as powerful as its CD mate. Maybe it’s just me.

Heaven only knows how many commercial recordings of the Tchaikovsky Fifth have been released over the years. I recently found what purported to be a list of these recordings but gave up counting at 100 – and guessed that I was a quarter of the way through! Let’s just say that I own a few CDs of the Fifth, and I’ve heard more here and there – and with those in mind, I can recommend the Jarvi/Tonhalle recording as an excellent performance in excellent sound, well worth hearing even if you, too, have more recordings of the work than you really need.

BH

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

Beethoven: Complete String Quartets, Volume 1 (CD review)

The Opus 18 quartets, Nos. 1-6. Dover Quartet. Cedille CDR 90000198 (2-disc set).

By John J. Puccio

Between the years 1797 and 1826 German composer and pianist Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) wrote sixteen numbered string quartets and one, single-movement, unnumbered quartet. The first six of these quartets comprise Op. 18, which we have here in the Dover Quartet’s first volume of complete Beethoven string quartets.

For those of you unsure of who The Dover Quartet are (or for those who cannot remember the information I provided in a previous review of their Mozart album, “Tribute”), they are, according to Wikipedia, “an American string quartet. It was formed at the Curtis Institute of Music in 2008 by graduates of the Curtis Institute of Music and the Rice University Shepherd School of Music. Its name is taken from the piece “Dover Beach” by Samuel Barber. The quartet consists of violinists Joel Link and Bryan Lee, violist Milena Pajaro-Van de Stadt, and cellist Camden Shaw. In 2020, the quartet was appointed to the faculty of the Curtis Institute of Music as ensemble-in-residence. Additionally, they hold residencies with the Kennedy Center, Bienen School of Music at Northwestern University, Artosphere, the Amelia Island Chamber Music Festival, and Peoples’ Symphony Concerts in New York.” The current Beethoven album is the fourth one they have released on which they are the primary performers.

So, here they give us Beethoven’s first six string quartets, written between 1798-1800, starting with No. 1, which in reality is the second quartet he wrote, but you know how those early numbering systems went with publication dates and all. Anyway, the composer admitted that he liked this second quartet better than the first ones he wrote (officially numbered as Nos. 2 and 3) because he admitted “only now have I learnt to write quartets.” OK, so No. 1 is the second one he wrote, and apparently he felt he had finally gotten it right.

Whatever, the Dover Quartet play No. 1 with elegance and élan. They do not attempt tempos quite so fast as most historically informed groups might take, yet the music is always lively and alert. The outer movements are joyous, and the slow movement is serene in a melancholy way. They mesh well. As I’ve said before, the Dover Quartet play with a passionate clarity, and while every instrument is distinctively individual, they blend perfectly as a whole.

Beethoven was right. No. 1, the second quartet he wrote, really is better than the first one he wrote. The fact is, the first quartet he wrote seems to rest firmly on eighteenth-century norms. To my ears No. 1 actually appears more original than either Nos. 2 or 3, even if the composer did borrow parts of No. 1 from an earlier work of his. Anyway, Nos. 2 and 3 are light and frothy in the classical manner, quite charming, actually, just not entirely substantive. Or maybe I should say the Dover Quartet provide the substance.

With Nos. 4-6 (also published differently than their chronological composition dates) Beethoven really came more into his own, with No. 6 an especially strong entry with even more lyrical activity and more gravitas than the previous ones, beginning with a delightful Mozartian lilt. The last time I reviewed these Beethoven quartets was about a year or so earlier, they were done by the Eybler Quartet on the CORO label, and they did them a little differently. The Eybler Quartet are a period-instrument group and adopt a slightly faster and more flexible tempo according to historical practice. The Dover Quartet on modern instruments are marginally smoother and more mellifluous than the Eyblers and a tad more romantic in style. I welcome both perspectives and found them both a delight.

Producer Alan Bise and engineer Bruce Egre recorded the quartets at Sauder Concert Hall, Goshen College Music Center, Goshen, Indiana in 2018 and 2019. As with most Cedille recordings, this one is completely natural and lifelike, meaning it is smooth, detailed, and realistically presented. The acoustic of the hall provides a soft, ambient glow to the music that complements it nicely. Never is the sonic picture hard, bright, or edgy. Nor is it blurred, distant, spongy, or dull. It’s all quite pleasantly listenable. If I have any minor concern at all, it would be about imaging. The group seems rather widely spread out across the speakers, and there isn’t a lot of air, distance, or depth among them. It’s a common practice in miking small string ensembles, giving the impression of a single, larger group on a one-dimensional plane. Nothing of consequence, though, really.

JJP

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

Saint-Saens: Piano Quintet in A minor, Op. 10 (CD review)

Also, String Quartet 1 in E minor, Op 112. Andrea Lucchesini; Quartetto di Cremona. Audite LC04480.

By Bill Heck

John Puccio recently reviewed a release (Italian Postcards) from the Quartetto di Cremona, and in that review he provided some background information on the ensemble. I won’t repeat it all here: feel free to read that review if you want more details (https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/12/italian-postcards-cd-review.html). What I will say is that the performance reviewed here does nothing to detract from their stellar reputation--read on for those details.

Piano Quintet
The Piano Quintet in A minor, Op. 10 is an early, though not immature, work. It opens with a dramatic series of chords on the piano in a minor key that keeps trying to switch to major; that pattern repeats multiple times with variations as the strings join in. Things soon settle into a sunnier mood with quiet back-and-forth among the instruments. The figures used in development are relatively simple, but the interplay is enjoyable.

The second movement builds on a slow, quiet theme, which receives some lovely playing from all involved. The short third movement features long, dramatic runs up and down the scale, mostly on the piano, with the strings taking turns adding emphasis.
 
The fourth movement starts with a canon in the strings; the strings soon abandon that melody, but the piano picks it up briefly before launching a new theme, which is in turn echoed by the strings. The initial canon returns in the strings, only to be recycled multiple times. The first and second themes appear alternately with variations until the pace quickens, taking us to the end of the movement and the work.

The playing here is nuanced and superbly executed. Of particular note is the energy that the Quartetto brings to the work: in their hands, the music is dramatic, although not overly so. They clearly find the work worth the effort of playing well.

Although the quintet is a relatively youthful work, it really is quite enjoyable. Thus, I was surprised to find only a few other recordings. (To avoid confusion, I should note that there are two later Piano Quartets and two Piano Trios, all of which seem to have been more frequently recorded than the Quintet.) Thus, this well-played version is a welcome addition to the catalog.

String Quartet No. 1
While the String Quartet 1 in E minor, Op. 112 was Saint-Saens' first in that genre, it can hardly be called an early work, as the composer was 64 years old at the time of its composition. Compared to the piano quintet, the quartet is noticeably more mature and complex, but still quite accessible.

The music starts out with a single note held on the violin and harmonized by the viola, twice repeated, as if a plaintive cry. The work then breaks into a minor key melody in a loping rhythm, again halting for a sustained, repeated note. The instruments answer each other with ascending and descending scales, and swap melodies, sliding back and forth between major and minor keys as if trying to bring light to a gloomy picture. After further development, the scales return, eventually bringing the listener to an emotionally ambiguous conclusion.

The second movement begins with a simple, quick four-note figure repeated over and over as it is handed back and forth between the instruments. The players really dig in, and the result is almost frantic, an effect that one presumes was just what Saint-Saens was going for. The music calms down a bit as the movement continues, only to return with quick nervous energy to those four-note figures. Again, the music demands energy, and the Quartetto supplies it, keeping the sense of drama going until Saint-Saens has them play a few final notes more slowly and quietly, as if exhausted by their labors.

The third movement could hardly be more different, beginning slowly with a beautiful, winding melody carried by the violin. The intertwining voices of the instruments reminds me of nothing so much as the intertwining voices that one might hear in an operatic duet by, say, Puccini. The playing in this movement is the only one that gives me slight pause: perhaps that Quartetto is a little too dynamic, giving the lovely chant-like sound almost a pulsing quality. That’s a quibble, though, that occurred to me only on repeated hearing when I was looking for issues. Listeners who are just relaxing rather than reviewing should be quite satisfied.

Entering the finale, the music takes a breath and then launches into another rhythmically complex and passionate, even agitated, development that returns several phrases from the first movement. Saint-Saens again whips up the pace toward the finish line, with the music ending as it began in a minor key. Again, the Quartetto is fully up to the task, the music crackling with energy to the end.

All in all, I found this work quite enjoyable and rewarding, thoroughly romantic and spirited, but with enough musical interest to hold attention.

There are plenty of performances of this work out there, so let me pick just a couple for comparison. The Quatuor Girard plays nicely, although slightly less energetically and dynamically than the Cremona crew. To my ears, though, they are sabotaged by an over-reverberant recording that obscures some of the passage work, and sound that tends to collapse onto the speakers in the more dynamic passages. The Fine Arts Quartet plays well and offers both the first and second quartets on a Naxos disk for those who crave completeness. Their account of the first is not so highly strung as that that of the Cremona players; for example, the Quartetto plays the second movement much faster than the Fine Arts group, at the same time really digging in to their instruments, so much so that returning from the Naxos disk to this one gives the impression of a completely different work. To my ears, the Quartetto di Cremona makes the music more exciting – even the word “spooky” comes to mind at points in the second movement – and more interesting.

I suspect that some listeners will find this performance a little too much, a little too dramatic. For my money, though, the intensity brought by the Quartetto di Cremona is just what’s needed for the music here.

Conclusion
Both performances in this release are enhanced by the recorded sound, which is quite clear and places the instruments in believable space, with no trace of harshness. Some room reverberation is retained, but with the music emerging from an absolutely silent background. If pressed for some negative, I might quibble that the sound of the cello displays the slightest trace of thinness, but a mere quibble and hardly can detract from the overall quality of the recording.

BH

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