For such a popular and
regularly-performed ballet the choice of complete recordings
of Giselle is somewhat limited: Mogrelia conducting the
Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra on Naxos (8.550755/6) and the
Royal Opera House, Covent Garden Orchestra under Bonynge on
a Double Decca (452 185-2). For those who do not require the
full score Karajan’s Vienna Philharmonic recording of about
half of the work has been around in various guises, currently
as a Decca Original (475 7507). Now the Australian wing of
Universal has made Bonynge’s earlier Monte-Carlo complete version
available at bargain price, costing about the same, or even
less, than the Naxos or the one-disc Karajan and around half
the price of the Covent Garden Bonynge (But NB: Eloquence CDs
and sets still appear to be expensive imports in the USA).
The first decision has
to be whether one wants the complete ballet or is prepared to
settle for highlights. If highlights are enough – and it has
to be admitted that Giselle is not the greatest ballet
ever written – Karajan amply fits the bill. His version is
skilfully abridged, very well played by the VPO and well recorded.
It lacks the theatrical cohesion of a complete set, though it
is certainly more than just a collection of ‘lollipops’, but
until now I have been satisfied with it as the only version
in my collection.
Reviewing a DVD version
of the ballet on this site, in November 2000, Gary S. Dalkin
described the music as “a melodic joy from beginning to end”,
which sums up the reasons why I have been content with the Karajan
until now. The music certainly is tuneful and often skilful
– there is even a fugue of which Bach himself would have approved
(CD2, track 7, Fugue des Wilis). Perhaps the Tchaikovsky
ballets, which are a melodic joy but also much more,
have spoiled our appreciation of the Adams of this world. Perhaps,
too, the supernatural elements of the story – the ghostly Wilis
who seek to entice mortals into their world – make us think
of Weber’s Freischütz or Schubert’s Erlkönig or
the shipwreck in Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade, and
find Adam a little wanting in comparison; but we should no more
judge all music by this standard than we would want to drink
champagne all the time. Shakespeare’s Prince Hal puts it more
elegantly: “If all the year were playing holidays, / To sport
would be as tedious as to work.” I Henry IV, I.2.182-3.
It is even conceivable
that many collectors will be satisfied with a shorter selection
than the Karajan: for them the 15+ minutes included on another
Naxos CD, Invitation to the Dance, containing music by
Weber, Gounod (the Faust ballet) and Delibes (from Lakmé)
will probably suffice (CSR Symphony Orchestra/Ondrej Lenard
– a good ‘big-tune’ wallow on 8.550081).
Reviews of the Covent Garden/Bonynge
set have tended to dismiss the earlier Monte-Carlo version as
under-rehearsed, lacking in the woodwind and brass contributions,
and less well recorded. Admittedly the solo oboe playing associated
with Prince Albrecht is a little tentative but an alternative
view might be that the performance is livelier and the conductor
more spontaneous than on the later set, where Bonynge takes
a few minutes longer over each act. (If the oboe makes Albrecht
seem a little hesitant, that is not out of keeping, especially
in Act 2; most of us would waver somewhat faced with a troupe
of ghostly visitants.) Certainly if one were to hear a live
orchestral performance as good as the Monte-Carlo version at
the ballet, there would be little cause for complaint. Both
versions are much more theatrical than Karajan; to some extent
this is due to the greater cohesion of a complete recording,
but it is also a fact that Bonynge was a very experienced ballet
and opera conductor who must have conducted Giselle many
times in live performances.
There is drama and
contrast in this music – even some employment of the leitmotiv
long before Wagner: Albrecht’s theme on the oboe, for example
– and it is well brought out by Bonynge, who no doubt keyed
his conducting to recollections of ballet performances. CD2,
track 7 offers a good example, where the music ranges from the
bold entrée d’Hilarion via a menacing middle section
depicting the Wilis to the fugue to which I have already referred.
In Karajan’s abridgement such dramatic contrast simply is not
possible: he offers just 39 seconds from the central scène
des Wilis as an entr’acte between the two pas de deux
on either side, themselves abridgements of longer numbers.
The greater virtuosity of Karajan’s VPO takes us even further
away from the theatre; the VPO sound a little too brisk and
much larger-than-life than any theatre orchestra, though, not
surprisingly, the Viennese orchestra achieves a greater sense
of lilt and lift in the Valse (Karajan track 5; Bonynge
CD1, track 15).
It looks as if I shall
be replacing my Karajan abridgement with this Bonynge reissue
– I haven’t got room for both in an overcrowded collection.
And if it is to be a complete version, it might as well be a
really complete version. The Naxos/Mogrelia offers what is
usually described as the ‘older European score’, with considerable
cuts and interpolations; both Bonynge versions restore Adam’s
complete original score and admit only three insertions, one
of which was included in the original production. Can I live
with the alleged shortcomings of the playing or must it be the
Covent Garden version? Admittedly, with music such as this,
which is essentially fun rather than serious stuff, I tend to
put away my equivalent of the slate on which Beckmesser scores
all the faults in Die Meistersinger, but I genuinely
was not troubled by any orchestral shortcomings and would gladly
settle for this Monte-Carlo version.
As far as the recording
is concerned there is little cause for complaint. All these
Eloquence reissues carry the logo SBS superimposed on five blue
lozenges: I take this to indicate that some form of 24-bit enhancement
has been employed together with some kind of ambient surround
imaging, as is stated to be the case with European-sourced Eloquence
reissues. Certainly the sound is clear and spacious, with a
good dynamic range and nicely terraced, with distant horn-calls,
for example, actually sounding as if they are distant. If it
is less forward than the Karajan, that is no bad thing: where
the VPO sound as if they are playing in a concert hall, the
Monte-Carlo orchestra’s sound is more like what would emanate
from the pit of an opera house. It can be replayed at a higher-than-usual
setting without sounding harsh. That a forty-year old recording
– even older in the case of other Eloquence reissues – can be
made to sound so good is a tribute to the quality of the original
Decca master-tapes. The Karajan, though clear and spacious,
does not respond quite so well to being played at high volume,
but the recording has been reprocessed, presumably for the better,
at least twice since my copy of the Ovation issue.
The notes to this set are
adequate – the main body of them seems to have figured in several
Decca issues of this ballet – but not as informative as one
might wish. It would be difficult, for example, to key the
action as described here to the music and some of the characters
listed in the track details are not even named in the summary.
Hilarion, for example, is named in the details for CD1, track
7 and CD2, track 7, but not mentioned in the notes.
For more seeking information
on Adam and Giselle there is a long and informative article
by Richard
Jones.
I may not turn to this
music very often, but I certainly found the complete score enjoyable
– more coherent than in any abridgement – and the performances
and recording more than acceptable. The cover picture, from
Bonynge’s own collection of ballet prints, is a huge improvement
on the childishly pixellated cover of my Ovation Karajan disc.
This is certainly a worthwhile addition to the treasures being
reissued on the Australian Eloquence label, already a much more
valuable source than its European equivalent. Just Swan
Lake in complete form from European Eloquence; not even
single-disc highlights from the other Tchaikovsky ballets, only
the three suites.
Not only are most of the
Australian reissues high quality performances, the range is
quite varied. I recently praised Handel’s Italian Cantatas
(Emma Kirkby on 476 746-8) and I am currently savouring the
delights of another Emma Kirkby reissue, An Elizabethan Songbook
(476 7466 – formerly known in its original incarnation on
Oiseau-Lyre as The Lady Musick). John Lanchbery’s recording
of his own arrangement of Hérold, La Fille Mal Gardée,
arrived in the same post as this Adam set (442 9048, 2CDs, with
Lecocq’s Mam’zelle Angot) – delightful music and I fully
expect to award it the highest accolade. More, please, from
Australia.
Brian Wilson
