Richard WAGNER (1813-1883)
Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg
- Prelude to Act I (1867) [10:28]
Anton BRUCKNER (1824-1896)
Symphony No 2
in C minor (1877 version, ed. William Carragan, 2007) [58:10]
Symphony No 8
in C minor (1890 version, ed. Leopold Nowak) [81:57]
Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra/Andris Nelsons
rec. live, Gewandhaus, 3-8 December 2019 (Prelude & Symphony No. 2)
& 4-6 September 2019 (Symphony No. 8)
Reviewed as downloaded from a 16-bit press preview
Pdf booklet included
DEUTSCHE GRAMMOPHON 483 9834
[2 CDs: 150:00]
Given the number of distinguished Bruckner cycles out there, do we really need this Nelsons/LGO one? Well, it would seem so, if my
colleagues’ enthusiastic responses to
No 4,
No 7
and
Nos 6 & 9
are anything to go by. Then again, one could ask the same question about
this conductor’s ongoing Shostakovich project with the Boston Phil (DG).
The difference is that while I’m unfamiliar with Nelsons’ Bruckner, I’ve
reviewed all his DSCH to date. And what a splendid traversal it’s turning
out to be, first-rate performances made even more desirable by superb
engineering. I would like to think his Bruckner is of the same ilk,
although I get the impression he’s developed a special rapport with the BSO
that accounts, in part at least, for the quality of their remarkable
music-making. I can’t vouch for his relationship with the LGO just yet, but
the last time I encountered the orchestra, in Mahler 2 with Riccardo
Chailly, they were on top form (Accentus). All of which augurs well for this pairing of Bruckner 2 and 8.
But first, the Prelude to Act I of Wagner’s Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg. It gets a decent outing, but I do
miss the energy and brilliance of George Szell, not to mention the pomp and
pageantry that Klaus Tennstedt finds in this glorious curtain-raiser.
Nelsons is no stranger to this repertoire, so I was surprised by his
comparative lack of urge and amplitude here. The LGO certainly play well,
with inner voices nicely rendered, but otherwise no-one seems fully engaged
at this point. And while I applaud the engineers for eking out so much
detail, I question the jumbo-sized timps, especially in those thrilling
climaxes. Yes, weight is required, but not when it overwhelms the
orchestra.
For years I held fast to the notion that Bruckner’s early symphonies were
only of peripheral interest, the composer finally hitting his stride in the
Fourth. Then I came across Gerd Schaller’s Philharmonia Festiva recordings
of Nos 1-3, which triggered what I can only describe as a Damascene
conversion on my part. (Here’s Ralph Moore’s
review
of that enlightening set.) I was particularly taken with Schaller’s fresh,
always invigorating take on the Second. He opts for the 1872 version of the
score, as edited by William Carragan, whereas Nelsons prefers Leopold
Nowak’s edition of the 1877 version, his errors and anomalies corrected by
Carragan. The two versions are structured as follows: Allegro - Scherzo -
Andante - Finale (Schaller), and Moderato - Andante - Scherzo - Finale (Nelsons). Movement timings vary, too. And while I would agree with Ralph’s
assertion that different versions of the same Bruckner symphony will affect
one’s perception of the piece as a whole, I suspect most listeners will
simply want a reading that works. In that sense, performing styles
and, perhaps, the recording itself, are more likely to be the
deal-breakers.
Alas, Nelsons and the LGO don’t get off to a good start, their opening
movement something of a ramble. At best, the music-making seems dutiful,
rather than inspired. By contrast, Schaller’s band plays with a poise and
passion that tweaks the ear and lifts the heart. Tempos and tempo
relationships are well judged, too, which makes for a very convincing and
coherent narrative. Shape, structure and a sense of purpose elude Nelsons
at every turn. Not only that, his performance is ill-served by a close,
bass-heavy sound that obscures essential detail. (Profil’s crisp, airy
recording is far more revealing of the composer’s craft.) What follows
confirms my suspicions, that Nelsons lacks the proselytizing zeal required
to show this symphony at its best. To be fair, though, it’s a potential
hazard with all complete cycles, lesser works not always getting the care
and attention they deserve.
Schaller really believes in the piece, and it shows in every bar.
It helps that he has a light touch and a keen ear for Bruckner’s timbres
and textures. In this company, Nelsons’ performing style seems very
traditional - old-fashioned, even - and that’s not helpful in music of such
animation and transparency. Elsewhere, Nelsons and the LGO fail to shine
where they should. For instance, those highly atmospheric horn passages
sound oddly contrived, whereas Schaller invests them with a natural
loveliness. Such epiphanies are a reminder - if it were needed - of the
many qualities that make Schaller’s performance so special. Engaged - and
engaging - to the last, he then delivers a superbly structured finale, the
proportionate, cleanly articulated timps a joy to hear. To put it bluntly,
Schaller blows his rival into the proverbial weeds with this one. That
said, Nelsons, his players and the DG engineers still have a chance to
redeem themselves in the epic symphony that follows.
II’ve never been able to decide which is the greater work, the
Seventh or the Eighth. Give me Sergiu Celibidache’s No 7, filmed with the
Berliner Philharmoniker in 1992 (Euroarts)/a>
or Yakov Kreizberg’s, recorded with the Wiener Symphoniker in 2004 (Pentatone)
and it’s no contest. But when I revisit the No 8 that Karajan did with the
BP in 1975 (DG) or Günter Wand’s, recorded live with the same orchestra in
2001 (RCA Red Seal), I’m back where I started. Of the more recent Bruckner
8s to come my way, I was delighted - but not at all surprised - by Zubin
Mehta’s 2012 performance (Berliner Philharmoniker,
included in a multi-conductor Bruckner box released in 2019.
CD buyers will be disappointed to discover that at the time of writing -
February 2021 - none of the recordings in that set are available
separately. However, individual performances can be downloaded from the
BP’s online shop.
Clearly, Nelsons has a mountain to climb here. Does he succeed? Well, his
account of the Allegro moderato is most encouraging; it may not be as
mysterious as some at the very start, but otherwise this opener is
persuasively paced and structured. Indeed, the conductor seems very
confident of his route to the summit, his players, sensing that certainty,
similarly focused on the task ahead. What a pity the sound still lacks
essential ‘air’, but if the performance goes well that won’t be a
deal-breaker. That said, the broad, deep soundstage provided for Mehta is
near ideal, with climaxes effortlessly caught. In particular, this veteran
conductor really brings out those echt-Brucknerian sonorities;
then again, we are talking about the Berliner Philharmoniker here.
Nevertheless, Nelsons’ opener, freighted with promise, is a good, strong
one. Ditto his account of the Scherzo: Allegro, which is both taut and
propulsive, those vaulting passages as thrilling as any I know. All that’s
missing is the Wand-like loftiness that Mehta brings to this great score.
That, of course, is born of vast experience. Too much to ask for at this
stage of Nelsons’ career, but despite the occasional misstep I’ve
absolutely no doubt he is destined for great things.
Having emerged from the foothills as it were, Nelsons takes a tumble.
His Adagio has a slightly cloying character - a self-conscious ‘beauty’,
perhaps - that’s at odds with what’s gone before. In many ways it reminds
me of the more tender moments in his performance of the Second; there, too,
there’s a moulded quality to the music that I find most perplexing. Switch
to Mehta and how lovely, how natural, this movement sounds. It all seems so
effortless really, the Philharmoniker’s horns in a league of their own.
Nelsons recovers somewhat in that glorious Finale, but, in the end, he’s
denied the summit. A real shame, as it all started so well.
An unconvincing Second and an almost-but-not-quite account of the Eighth;
disappointing sound throughout.
Dan Morgan
