Wolfgang Amadeus MOZART (1756–1791)
10th Anniversary Collection
Susan Gritton (soprano), Catherine Wyn-Rogers (mezzo), Timothy Robinson
(tenor), Peter Rose (bass)
SCO Chorus
Scottish Chamber Orchestra/Sir Charles Mackerras
rec. City Halls, Glasgow (CD 1-4), and Caird Hall, Dundee (CD 5), 11–17
July 2009 (CD 1-2), 3–9 August 2007 (CD 3-4) and 14–16 December 2002 (CD 5)
Requiem
text and translation included.
Reviewed as 24/96 and 24/192 press preview.
LINN CKD651
[59:26 + 57:31 + 66:49 + 72:29 + 54:49]
These are old friends making a very welcome re-appearance, so I would normally
include them in my Retrospective, but they deserve a review to themselves,
especially as I have decided to make this reissue one of my Recordings of
the Year. I note with approval that the new set is entitled 10th Anniversary Collection; it’s certainly a fitting tribute to
Sir Charles Mackerras, who died in 2010. The obituary in The Guardian described him as engaged in ‘a timeless quest for
perfection… [He] boxed the compass of repertory and musical experience in a
manner equalled by few, if any, of his contemporaries’. Just think of the
range of repertoire in which he excelled, from Handel via Mozart, Beethoven
and Dvořák to Janáček, and that very accurate description, combined with
the Anniversary title, encourages me to look at his achievement all round.
If I were choosing a tribute collection, I wouldn’t know where to start,
but the 5-CD Supraphon set Life with Czech Music: Janáček and
Martinů (SU40422) and the 6-CD Life with Czech Music: Dvořák and
Smetana (SU41412), both very inexpensive, would certainly feature on my
list, as would the set of Beethoven symphonies which he recorded live at
the Edinburgh Festival for Hyperion (CDS44301/5 -
review:
Recording of the Month –
review
–
DL Roundup March 2010) and, of course, this 5-CD Mozart reissue.
For Linn, as well as these Mozart recordings, still available on CKD308 (2
SACDs: Recording of the Month –
review
–
DL Roundup January 2009), CKD350 (2 SACDs –
review:
Recording of the Month
April 2010)
and BKD211 (single CD) he set down Bartók and Kodaly (BKD234) and
Beethoven Piano Concertos 3-5 (with Artur Pizarro, BKD336 –
review
–
review
of earlier release as CKD336). With other recordings for Philips (now
Decca), Chandos, DG, Signum, Telarc and Carus, Mackerras was a deserving
pluralist. His earlier complete set of the Mozart symphonies for Telarc
with the Prague Chamber Orchestra, separately or on a super-budget 10-CD
set CD80729, is well worth investigating, though the Linn recordings of
those reissued here is even better.
His Cunning Little Vixen (Decca Originals 4758670, 2 CDs,
mid-price) is my benchmark for the new Simon Rattle recording (LSO Live)
and he also recorded a fine account of the Suite, with Sinfonietta
and Taras Bulba with the VPO (Decca 4785407, mid-price). By one of
those ridiculous pricing paradoxes, both these recordings cost more as
downloads than on CD, but his Supraphon recording of the Vixen
Suite, etc., can be obtained for £9.59 as a lossless download.
It’s no fault of Mackerras or the SCO that their very enjoyable Hyperion
recording of the symphonies of Arriaga and Voříšek is now available only
from the Archive Service, though it can still be downloaded, with pdf
booklet, for £7.99, from
hyperion-records.co.uk.
It’s unusual for a conductor to specialise in such a variety of music. Sir
Malcolm Sargent used to dominate the podium at the Proms many years ago,
but, while he could turn his hand to most music and come up with a reliable
result, his real successes covered a much smaller field, mostly of English
music, apart from the occasional surprise – his Má Vlast remains
one of my favourites (Classics for Pleasure 9689522, download only, budget
price).
The ability to interpret the music of a variety of composers often hinges
on the respect of all concerned for Bach, but the centres of Mackerras’
musical universe were Handel and Mozart. His two recordings of Messiah (DG Galleria and Warner), ground-breaking in their day,
now sound somewhat dated – it’s a shame that he wasn’t able to re-record
the work. The Fireworks music, revelatory recordings with the Concerti a due cori, are the stuff of legend – made at night
because that was the only time that the cream of London players could come
together as the Pro Arte Wind Ensemble (Testament SBT1253 or Fireworks, with other wind-band music, Beulah 8PD82 –
DL News 2015/11
– download in lossless sound from
Qobuz). More recently, Beulah’s The Essence of Mr Handel contains this Fireworks recording and other Handel music, including Concerto
Grosso, Op.6/12, from the Boyd Neel Orchestra and Thurston Dart, and that
too can be obtained in lossless sound from
Qobuz
for the same price that others charge for mp3.
One of the things that made Mackerras such a complete performer was that he
applied his scholarly abilities to whatever he conducted. Before that Fireworks recording, no-one had attempted to bring together the
size of forces that Handel had had at his disposal. That scholarship was
also applied to his Mozart recordings, especially to the performance of his
operas, but the record companies seemed reluctant to take his Mozart on,
until Telarc did so. They recorded him in the symphonies and other
orchestral music with the Prague Chamber Orchestra and also, crucially,
with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra. His Zauberflöte and Così fan tutte with the SCO have survived in the catalogue
complete (2CD80727 and 3CD80728), and the Figaro highlights
recording, which Robert J Farr particularly liked –
review
– is now coupled with Don Giovanni highlights on 2CD80735 (around
£9). The complete Figaro can be downloaded, but it’s
over-expensive at almost £29 (no booklet). He also recorded The Magic Flute in English for Chandos (CHAN3121 –
review).
Which brings us to Mackerras’ fruitful association with the Scottish
Chamber Orchestra in the last twenty years of his life, and to these Mozart
recordings in particular. It’s a less comprehensive selection than the
Telarc series, beginning as it does with No.29 (1774). To be honest,
there’s not much in the symphonies before that to get too excited about,
apart, perhaps from No.25, the ‘little’ g minor, K183. Stanley Sadie in the New Grove characterises No.29 as a landmark, and Mackerras makes
it sound like a little masterpiece. In his hands it’s elegant without
sounding precious, and the livelier passages are given their due without
trying to make them sound like the last great masterpieces which span CDs 3
and 4; I include even No.38, the ‘Prague’ as one of those masterpieces, as
it’s made to sound here, but that’s getting ahead of myself.
Mackerras’ researches embraced the issues of tempo and performance style,
so, though the SCO play modern instruments, the sound is as ‘authentic’ in
everything that matters as the best period-instrument performances. That
includes the observance of outer-movement repeats and, whilst the tempo is
never allowed to drag, the music is never rushed. This is not ‘authentic’
Mozart in any dogmatic sense: Mackerras actually gives greater weight to
the andante slow movement of No.29 than Benjamin Britten, whose
award-winning 1971 recording with the English Chamber Orchestra represents
some of the best of the older tradition (Decca 4767102, Presto special CD,
or download, with No.25 and Serenata Notturna).
Overall, Mackerras’ take on No.29 is much closer to the period-instrument
performance from The English Concert and Trevor Pinnock (DG Archiv 4716662,
complete Mozart Symphonies, 11 CDs, budget price). There’s just one thing
that I slightly miss by comparison with Pinnock – the rasp of period horns
in the finale. If you don’t think that repeats are important, listen to
Bruno Walter, one of the best old-school Mozartians, to whom I still listen
with pleasure, who dashes off the opening movement of No.29 in less than
five minutes, thus damaging the shape of the work (Sony G010004059719B,
with Nos 25 and 28, download only).
I wish that Linn had run to an extra CD and found place for No.33 and No.34
in this collection. The nearest recording that I can think of in a style
similar to that of Mackerras comes from the Academy of St Martin and
Neville Marriner, but that’s download only and an expensive one at that
(Warner 2435699525, Nos. 31, 33 and 34).
I’ve mentioned that Mackerras’ view of tempo is measured. Against the
modern trend to take a faster tempo in general, as in No.29, he gives the
slow movements time to develop. That’s the case in No.31, where, although
Marriner’s Mozart is similar in many ways, Mackerras allows much more time
for the andantino second movement to breathe, but the other
movements are lithe, often enough to set the listener dancing – it’s no
coincidence that Mackerras was also an adept ballet conductor. The
inclusion of the alternative, shorter, slow movement at this point is a
mixed blessing; it might have been better as an appendix to the CD or to
the original 2-CD set.
With the Haffner and Linz symphonies (Nos. 35 and 36) we
really begin to approach the peak. I used to be – still am – an admirer of
Bruno Walter in Mozart, so, though an impecunious undergraduate, I couldn’t
resist paying full price for Walter’s recording of the Haffner and Jupiter symphonies (CBS in the UK). Sitting in the rack with a
shiny cover depicting a toy violin and the score, both bathed in rainbow
light, how could it have been otherwise, though I hadn’t then read DC’s
glowing review in Gramophone (5/62)? I even paid top price for it twice
over – again when I could play it in stereo – and the CBS 2-CD reissue of
Walter’s Mozart (M2YK45676, Nos. 35-36 and 38-41, with a much less
attractive cover) still sits in an accessible place in the CD cabinet when
so many other discs are lost at the back. Presto have a special CDR of
Walter’s Nos. 35 and 39; the set, redistributed across 3 CDs, can be
streamed and downloaded from Qobuz for £12.99, and the Sony Bruno Walter Collection includes both these and his earlier NYPO
Mozart recordings for those prepared to outlay almost £300 and find room
for 77 CDs (19075923242).
Mature Mozart can take the large-scale playing of the Columbia Symphony
Orchestra, still worth hearing alongside Mackerras. I’d hate to choose
between them for my Desert Island. In a sense comparison is futile, partly
because Walter was all over the place when it came to including or omitting
repeats. Where comparison is possible, however, I’m surprised how little
difference there is. From the opening movement of No.35, allegro con spirito, it’s apparent that a larger orchestra is
involved under Walter, and the 1959 recording, though still good for its
date, can’t compare with the Linn, but what Mackerras gives us is more like
a revised version of Walter’s Mozart – a lither, livelier version, with
even better playing than Walter obtained from the Columbia Orchestra, and
better recorded. That means that we hear more of the inner detail, but it’s
not a radical rethink of the movement.
Walter gives us the andante second movement in 5:17, where
Mackerras takes 8:03. The Columbia playing is often surprisingly delicate
for such a large orchestra, but figures are deceptive: it’s not that
Mackerras dawdles through the movement, though he certainly doesn’t rush
it, merely that the Linn recording gives the movement its full weight by
observing the repeats. And, while Mackerras is certainly alive to the
emotional heart of the music, he does so without the need to pull the tempo
around as much as Walter.
I’m taken back to what I said of CKD350 in 2010: ‘Here is all the delicacy
of Mozart but with his underlying strength, too. Bone china may be
exquisitely fine, but it’s also extremely strong and the same is true of
these works in Mackerras’s hands; the lossless download serves to emphasise
the quality of the music and the performances’.
The issue of repeats is a matter of taste, but I tend to prefer the
inclusion of them all, which is what Mackerras does. Sometimes the
difference is considerable, as in the Linz, which assumes its
proper proportions as a work of some significance on Linn, the outer
movements especially assuming their status, particularly the finale, twice
as long as from Walter, though at a basically faster tempo.
I was very terse about the earlier recordings of Nos. 38-41 in 2009,
largely because Tony Hayward had said it all –
review.
Returning to that recording now, intending to play a movement at a time
for comparison with Walter, I find that I'm unable to tear myself away from
Mackerras’ Mozart, going on to play the whole symphony without pausing to
compare – and the same applies to Walter when I turn to him. It’s almost
sacrilege to try to compare two such fine Mozartians, but once again I
found myself describing Mackerras as the spruced-up modern equivalent of
Walter as opposed to some of the speed merchants of recent times.
I’ve already referred to No.38 as worthy of mention in the same breath as
what has come to be regarded as his great trilogy. Composed for Prague, it
reminds us that Mozart’s music was more greatly appreciated there than
anywhere in the empire, even Vienna; you may have read the Mörike novelle Mozart auf der Reise nach Prag, which describes his journey there
for the premiere of Don Giovanni. I’m pleased to see that Eugen
Jochum’s Concertgebouw recording, originally on Philips, is still
available, albeit as a download only; that has always been one of my old
favourites (Decca Eloquence 4828414, with Nos. 35, 36 and 41 and Posthorn Serenade).
One of the reasons for regarding the Prague as a serious work
comes from its use of a slow introduction, which mustn’t be either hurried
or allowed to sound over-pompous. Listening to it again, as streamed in
lossless sound, I still think that Jochum gets this about right, but, once
again, the issue of repeats arises – all included by Mackerras, but not by
Jochum or Walter. The result is that, though the introduction takes almost
exactly the same time as from those earlier conductors, the movement gains
in weight yet never outstays its welcome.
The slow introduction to No.39 has less need to sound serious – it’s more
anticipatory, and that’s how Mackerras treats it. The minuet of No. 39
needs to sound alert, and to make the listener want to get up and dance –
or, in my case, to wish that I could. They both go with a real lilt, but
never too fast, and the rather more deliberate equivalent in No.40 also
receives the best performance I ever recall hearing.
The real test comes in the final symphony, No.41, the Jupiter.
We’ve recently been reminded that Mozart, even in such a majestic work, is
capable of a variety of scales of interpretation: Hyperion’s Jupiter Project is a recording of chamber-size reductions of two
overtures, two versions of Piano Concerto No.21, and Clementi’s arrangement
of the Jupiter Symphony for piano, flute, violin and cello
(CDA68234 –
review). I wasn’t convinced enough to return regularly to that recording, but I
was amazed that I didn’t rule it immediately out of court.
Haydn and Beethoven would continue to challenge each other after Mozart’s
death, but it’s the Jupiter (1788) that opened the way for Haydn’s
second set of ‘London’ symphonies (1792-95) and Beethoven’s Eroica
(1803-04). There’s no lack of grandeur in Mackerras’ interpretation, as is
apparent from the opening movement – allegro vivace, but not too vivace – where the observation of repeats again comes into its
own. In some respects, this is even more replete with restless energy than
from Walter, and the finale in particular benefits from the inclusion of
almost 50% longer music than on the Columbia recording. Like the nickname
of Beethoven’s ‘Emperor’ concerto, the ‘Jupiter’ tag seems to have
originated in England, but Mackerras and the SCO remind us how appropriate
it is. For his Beethoven cycle Mackerras abandoned the SCO for the larger
Philharmonia, but the smaller ensemble shows itself perfectly capable of
capturing the essence of Mozart at his grandest.
I didn’t review the original release of the Requiem on CKD211 SACD
(now re-catalogued as BKD211, CD or download). That was made with a very
impressive team of soloists: Susan Gritton is especially praiseworthy.
Those accustomed to the usual Süssmayr completion may find the Levin
edition a little unsettling, and it’s far from certain that it’s the final
word. Perhaps the best solution is to give us the Süssmayr, shorn of its
romantic accretions, and add appendices from the Levin and other recent
editions, as on the King’s College, Cambridge, recording, KGS0002 SACD,
which also includes passages in the Maunder and Finnissy editions –
review.
While it adds to the attraction of the Linn reissue, this recording of the Requiem wouldn’t be my top choice. As it happens, Linn have
another very fine recording up their sleeve, from John Butt and the Dunedin
Consort; presented in David Black’s completion of the Süssmayr edition, it
aims to reconstruct the first performance, at Mozart’s own funeral service
in December 1791, with forces commensurate with those employed on that
occasion. Originally released on SACD as CKD449, it’s now CD only (CKR449),
but it can be downloaded from
linnrecords.com
in hi-res versions. That would be one of my first choices –
you can find my thoughts on it and some other recordings in
DL News 2014/4
and on the King’s and several alternatives in
DL News 2013/8.
The original releases of the symphonies were available on SACD and some
dealers still advertise them in that format, though Linn have abandoned it
for their new releases. The new set is CD only, but, like the older 2-CD
releases of the symphonies, it can be obtained in a variety of download
formats, from mp3 up to 24-bit, both 24/96 and the 24/192 which I reviewed.
If you have a favourite recording of the Requiem, perhaps the
other Linn recording, from John Butt, you may still prefer to choose the
original 2-SACD releases while they remain available – and while the
manufacturers are still offering the equipment to play them on at a
reasonable price: the CD labels’ retreat from the format has been matched
by a reduction in choice of players at under £2000.
That said, there’s nothing to complain of about the 24-bit downloads to
which I listened for this review. While the booklet which comes with the
reissue is not exactly generously proportioned, it does its job.
Subscribers to Naxos Music Library will find the more fulsome originals
there.
All in all, for insight into these symphonies, orchestral playing and
recording quality, this 5-CD set is a must for anyone who didn’t rush out
to buy the original releases.
Brian Wilson
Contents
CD1
Symphony No.29 in A, K201 [31:16]
Symphony No.31 in D ‘Paris’, K297 (with alternative second movement)
[20:27]
Symphony No.32 in G, K318 [7:38]
CD 2
Symphony No.35 in D ‘Haffner’, K385 (1782) [20:30]
Symphony No.36 in C ‘Linz’, K425 (1783) [36:46]
CD 3
Symphony No.38 in D ‘Prague’, K504 (1786) [36:47]
Symphony No.39 in E flat, K543 (1788) [30:02]
CD 4
Symphony No.40 in g minor, K550 (1788) [34:01]
Symphony No.41 in C ‘Jupiter’, K551 (1788) [38:28]
CD 5
Requiem
in d minor, K626 (ed. Robert Levin)
[46:52]
Adagio and Fugue in c minor, K546
[7:57]
