It’s true, we’ll probably never have quite enough recordings
of Stravinsky’s best works, but there comes a stage where a
new entry to the market has to be really special to make
an impact. Before we even start on the qualities in performance
on this release, the recording really is in a class of its own.
Especially in SACD mode the bass drums in the second part of
Le Sacre du Printemps will see your socks ricochet off
a far wall and land on the cat, such is the force with which
they are blown from your feet. Sonic fireworks are by no means
what this recording is all about, but rest assured that this
is a demonstration quality disc and one which will impress all
who hear it, cats excepted.
Stravinsky did some tweaking to the orchestration of Pétrouchka
in 1947, reducing the orchestra a little but covering the
missing parts with alternative instruments. This was done in
part to put the work back into copyright, as Stravinsky was
making no financial gain from the original score despite it
being one of his more popular pieces. Without this move the
original 1911 score would easily have stood as an entirely satisfactory
and in some ways preferable version, so there is no controversy
here. The emotional narrative of this ‘Burlesque in 4 scenes’
is well known; and such a colourful and descriptive score deserves
the kind of attention to detail and sheer verve and vibrancy
that it indeed receives in this recording. The sparkle of the
high tuned percussion is a strong feature in the first minutes,
as are the inner brass voices which cry out through the hammering
rhythms of the full orchestra. With a performance and recording
as refined as this one all kinds of extra nuances and new associations
pop through unexpectedly: the Ravel-like atmosphere of the Lento
section which starts at 5:15 into the first movement for instance,
beastly double-bassoon included. The Danse Russe is full
of superb touches, such as the ‘doowah-doowah’ horns at 8:38.
The ‘Tom and Jerry’ character of the beginning of Part Two is
great fun, and all parts are full of panache and polish, from
suave to snarl at the drop of a drop of milk. The piano playing
deserves a nomination, but as a team effort this is hard to
beat on all fronts.
Talking of verve and animation, my comparisons for this recording
both come from the maestro himself, those of both Pétrouchka
and Le Sacre du Printemps. These are to be found
on disc 2 of the essential-purchase Works of Igor Stravinsky
in a big chunky box from Sony (see review).
With Pétrouchka you get all of the character from the
1960 Columbia Symphony Orchestra recording, but far better ensemble
and discipline from the Bergen Philharmonic. Both through the
accuracy of the playing and detail in the recording there is
much new to be discovered under Andrew Litton’s baton. The wonderful
cantabile of the trumpet at the beginning of the Valse
is rather special, and the nonchalant ease of those little
polymetric clashes bode well for La Sacre. The Shrove-Tide
Fair is positively luminous, the absolute evenness of those
undulating winds blending to create textures of wonder and minimalist
beauty. Action and excitement give way to lonely desolation
for the downbeat end of Pétrouchka, and the conclusion
is very affecting indeed.
Stravinsky’s own pungently dramatic recording of Le Sacre
du Printemps has long been a favourite of mine and a tough
document to beat in terms of sheer power and character, if not
in terms of refinement and intonation. I’d never want to be
without that 1960 recording even with its ragged strings, but
Andrew Litton brings the best of all worlds in a performance
which has all of the fresh-minted sense of discovery, technical
perfection and passionate delivery you could ask for. Right
from the deliciously plangent bassoon solo at the beginning
you’re hooked. Out of the whole thing there was only one thing
Litton did differently to what I expected: the second entry
of those famous stabbing rhythms in which the final two bars
are softer than the rest; just before figure 16 at 3:41 on the
recording. The tempo is pretty much identical to that of Stravinsky
himself, and certainly not lacking in drive and intensity. Spine
chilling effects such as the woooooo rising and falling
glissandi of the winds at about 6:15 are effective here as I’ve
never heard them before, and as mentioned before that bass drum
has the cat diving for cover every time. Bass resonance is important
here as never before, with the sheer weight of the sostenuto
e pesante march in the Rondes printanières developing
into something with a physical presence which makes your hairs
stand up and move about independently. If you’re looking for
those two incredible pages of absolute polyrhythmic climax they
occur at 13:40 sounding here like 9 orchestras at once, in the
best possible way.
The massive excitement which concludes Part One gives way to
magical atmosphere in Part Two, where those vast virtual gong
beats from the whole orchestra make one want to sink through
the floor into the primeval turf beneath. The unearthly combination
of flageolet solo violin and alto-flute is remarkable here,
and everything about each moment brings back the sheer unassailable
genius of this music. All hell breaks loose at 7:34 and further
for those seeking to give their woofers a workout, but even
when the dance is at its height of abandon every inner voice
of the orchestra can be followed with absolute clarity. With
this work you have to believe: to be so wound up by the
emotional journey that the fact of someone dancing themselves
to death to it is a mere detail, not some extra narrative which
you can take or leave with a scoff of Druidic salt. This performance
wrings every ounce of drama from the notes on the page and leaves
you exhausted – and that’s just from the comfort of your armchair.
To be honest, I had been a bit worried about writing this review.
It’s easier to find words of criticism, and far less comfortable
finding descriptions which express superlative appreciation
without the whole thing turning into sycophantic-sounding drivel.
I have to admit a sentimental attachment to Le Sacre,
since having virtually been joined at the hip to an Ansermet/Suisse
Romande Decca ffrr record, the one with paint stains
on the cover, not so very long after being introduced to solid
food. Such a close affinity also makes it harder to convince
me of the unshakeable quality of any one recording, but this
release has me sold all the way down the line. Yes, there are
many very good versions around, and those who already have Chailly,
Boulez, Muti, Bernstein, Gergiev et al may wonder at the wisdom
of adding another recording to their collection. There’s also
some SACD competition from John Nott on the Tudor
label. I can’t make up your mind for you, but would say
that this recording is more than a bit special. In fact, if
you want one crusty old cynic’s honest opinion, I think it’s
as damn near definitive as I’m ever likely to hear.
Dominy Clements
Downloads available from eclassical.com
Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra/Andrew Litton 
[69:00] 
