Sir Simon Rattle has been an exclusive EMI 
          recording artist for as long as I can remember. If memory serves me 
          right he first signed with EMI around the time he began his long association 
          with the CBSO in 1980 and ever since he’s been one of the jewels 
          in the EMI crown. Following the recent deal by which Warner Classics 
          acquired EMI here we have Rattle’s first recording with no sign 
          of Nipper on the packaging. 
            
          Rachmaninov’s music has not been exactly central to Rattle’s 
          repertoire over the years though he has conducted some works. A long 
          time ago he made a recording for EMI of the Second Symphony, which I 
          never heard. That was with the Los Angeles Philharmonic at the time 
          that he was their principal guest conductor. From memory the critics 
          found it disappointing and as far as I can see it’s not currently 
          available. There’s a 2011 live performance of the same symphony 
          on DVD which Rattle and the Berlin Philharmonic recorded live in Madrid. 
          I haven’t seen that but William Hedley described the reading as 
          “very successful overall, with a natural feel for the music’s 
          pulse” (
review). 
          On the evidence of this present disc a Berlin audio recording would 
          be an interesting proposition. Also on DVD is a recording of the 
Symphonic 
          Dances taken from performances given by Rattle and the Berliners 
          in Singapore some three weeks after the Berlin performances that are 
          preserved on this CD. The DVD received an overall welcome from Leslie 
          Wright (
review). 
          So far as I’m aware 
The Bells is a work that Rattle has 
          taken up fairly recently. 
            
          So far as I know this coupling is unique on CD but it’s good to 
          have these two great works available together. Rattle’s account 
          of 
The Bells is very impressive: he has three excellent soloists 
          and the choral and orchestral contributions are first class. The Rundfunkchor 
          Berlin, superbly trained by Simon Halsey, announce themselves in tremendous 
          fashion with a really punchy initial entry in the first movement. The 
          choir contributes really well to all four movements but they are at 
          their peak - as they need to be - in the third movement. Here Rattle 
          makes the most of the many dynamic contrasts in both the orchestral 
          and choral parts and gets a vivid, virtuoso performance from his Berlin 
          forces. There’s often great energy in the music-making and this 
          seems to me to be an outstanding, thrilling account of the movement. 
          All three soloists acquit themselves extremely well. The Ukrainian tenor, 
          Dmitro Popov, is excellent, singing with that authentic Slavic timbre 
          and playing the leading role in a fresh, incisive account of the first 
          movement. The Slovakian soprano Luba Orgonášová brings 
          a big, operatic tone to the second movement, yet she can be sensitive 
          as well as passionate. The Russian bass, Mikhail Petrenko, is the real 
          deal in the last movement. His is a commanding, baleful vocal presence, 
          just right for this music. I was gripped by the powerful performance 
          of this movement. In addition to a very fine soloist the orchestral 
          response, beginning with a dolefully expressive cor anglais solo, is 
          very fine indeed and once again the choral sound is splendid. After 
          all the emotion of this movement Rattle brings the work home with a 
          gentle radiance in the short orchestral coda: here the music glows. 
          I’m not about to part with Svetlanov’s viscerally exciting 
          performance of 
The Bells (
review) 
          but this Rattle account is also one to which I’m sure I shall 
          often return. 
            
          I’m equally taken with his reading of the 
Symphonic Dances. 
          I’m a great admirer of Vasily Petrenko’s classy recording 
          of this work, still one of the best things he’s done on Merseyside 
          (
review). 
          I wouldn’t wish to make a choice between Petrenko and Rattle: 
          both are excellent. The Avie sound for Petrenko is a bit more immediate 
          and exciting than the very good results that Rattle’s engineers 
          achieve - the Avie recording was made under studio conditions. In terms 
          of the playing, the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic play out of their collective 
          skins for Petrenko but the Berlin playing is simply fabulous and there’s 
          a richness and depth to their tone that the excellent Liverpudlians 
          can’t quite match. To be truthful, I’m delighted to have 
          both versions in my collection. 
            
          At the start of the first dance Rattle achieves good weight in the orchestral 
          sound without the music ever sounding heavy. In the lovely wistful slower 
          music the solo saxophone is smooth and silky, with lovely woodwind tracery 
          around the saxophone’s melody. When the strings take up the tune 
          the sound is simply gorgeous. In the nostalgic coda (from 10:29) some 
          may feel that the Berlin string sound is just a bit 
too gorgeous: 
          I love it. 
            
          In the second dance Rattle offers a master-class in rubato. One almost 
          has the impression that the tempo is never the same in two successive 
          bars as he indulges in give-and-take and little nudges and hesitations. 
          I can well imagine that some may think this is an example of Rattle’s 
          alleged micro-management. I can only say that it all seems highly imaginative 
          to me: for much of the time the result sounds like music to accompany 
          a shadowy ballroom scene. It helps that the orchestral playing is absolutely 
          superb with Rattle’s every demand for light and shade realised. 
          Towards the end, when the pace of the music picks up appreciably, the 
          playing has a quicksilver lightness to it and the last bars just seem 
          to vanish into thin air. 
            
          The opening pages of the third dance are dexterous and vivacious in 
          this performance. The playing is tremendously incisive - the percussion 
          are especially so - and the music is driven along excitingly. The extended 
          slower section (3:26 - 9:54) is thereby thrown into sharp relief. In 
          this passage the playing is wonderfully rich of tone and the smouldering 
          passion is conveyed marvellously. When the tempo picks up again the 
          music, now complete with references to the Dies Irae, becomes more and 
          more exciting; once again the quality of the playing is amazing. Rattle 
          brings the piece to a thrilling conclusion, letting the gong reverberate 
          into silence. 
            
          I’m no more inclined to give up Petrenko’s splendid account 
          of this marvellous work than I am to dispense with the Svetlanov account 
          of 
The Bells. However, just as those two Russian conductors offer 
          a special experience in their respective performances so too Rattle 
          offers a memorable account of each work. It’s especially pleasing 
          to have this fine new account of 
The Bells one hundred years 
          since the work was written. These are two of Rachmaninov’s greatest 
          works and Simon Rattle has done them proud with this exciting disc. 
          
            
          As I write there’s a good deal of speculation that when he leaves 
          Berlin Rattle will succeed Valery Gergiev as principal conductor of 
          the LSO. At the moment it’s just speculation but were it to come 
          to pass the combination of Sir Simon Rattle and the LSO could be a very 
          exciting one. Fingers crossed. 
            
          
John Quinn