Alan Sanders’ notes
for this release dwell heavily on the
political circumstances surrounding
this concert. On 20 August 1968, Russian
tanks arrived in the then Czechoslovakia;
the following evening, the USSR State
SO was guesting at the Proms (and playing
Czech music to boot - the Dvořák
Cello Concerto, with Rostropovich).
Four days later, the orchestra
found itself in Edinburgh, to give the
concert on this disc. Certainly there
is an intensity of concentration that
runs through the three works
Work on Ruslan and
Lyudmila (itself recently represented
- excellently - in the release lists:
see
review ) interrupted a projected
symphony by Glinka, and the result was
the Symphony on Two Russian Themes
(the first movement of said symphony).
It has hardly been over-represented,
and the authentic nature of this account
eclipses Chandos’ 2000 version with
Sinaisky and the BBC Philharmonic (CHAN9861).
Straightaway under
Svetlanov, the characteristic Russian-ness
of the piece is clear, with acidic oboe
and tender yet deep string sound. There
is a also a particularly Russian involvement
with matters contrapuntal as themes
are tossed around the orchestra, a trait
to reappear to great effect in the ‘Polish’
that concludes the present programme.
There is an exuberance to Svetlanov’s
presentation of this motivic interplay
that takes it from the academic and
places it firmly in the realm of the
human.
The Prokofiev ‘Classical’
symphony is given a magnificent performance.
The first movement is busy but not flat
out (like many). The Larghetto is when
Svetlanov and Prokofiev seem to meld
into one, with magic alive in every
bar. The high (and I mean high) violin
entry is miraculous; the solo clarinet
oozes character, as does the staccato
solo bassoon. Just a touch more cheek
would have made it. The Gavotte is rather
teasing; flutes at around 1’20 are straight
from the ballet stage. But what really
makes this reading is the frenzied slapstick
of the finale, sparkling and imbued
with tremendous drive and energy (it
sounds more like Shostakovich in madcap
mood than Prokofiev!).
The earlier Tchaikovsky
symphonies benefit from unswerving advocacy
such as that Svetlanov displays. The
intense concentration of the opening
is entirely apt (I referred to the pizzicati
as ‘dead’ in my notes, befitting the
funeral march connotations of the first
part of this movement). The extended
and muted introduction serves as a foil
for the festive Allegro brillante (the
strings really dig in here), full of
drive and excitement. If the ‘Alla tedesca’
second movement could have more of the
suave, more of the raised eyebrow about
it, it still fits in with Svetlanov’s
secure, long-range view of this music.
The lovely solo contributions of the
third movement (of five), especially
the solo horn, contribute to an overall
peace. The woodwind almost seem to be
‘crying’ their parts, so touching is
the playing at times. This could surely
only come from a Russian orchestra with
Russian conductor.
Interestingly, Tchaikovsky’s
nods towards the world of ballet are
underplayed by Svetlanov, perhaps underlining
the conductor’s prevalent seriousness
of intent. Certainly this intensity
pays dividends in the finale (Tempo
di Polacca), where Tchaikovsky’s contrapuntal
workings can run out of steam. They
certainly do not here - Svetlanov sets
up a great momentum that leads to the
blazing brass of the work’s close.
Another gem from BBC
Legends.
Colin Clarke
USSR State Symphony Orchestra/Evgeny Svetlanov.
