Russian Spectacular
Modest MUSSORGSKY (1839-1881)
Night on the Bare Mountain
(1867, compl. & orch. Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov) [12:06]
Pictures from an Exhibition
(1874, orch. Maurice Ravel) [33:43]
Mily BALAKIREV (1837-1910)
Islamey
(1869, orch. Sergei Lyapunov) [8:31]
Alexander BORODIN (1833-187)
Prince Igor
- Polovtsian Dances (1890, orch. Rimsky-Korsakov and Anatoly Liadov)
[11:54]
Singapore Symphony Chorus
& Youth Choir
Singapore Symphony Orchestra/Lan Shui
rec. 2018, Esplanade Concert Hall, Singapore
Reviewed as a 24/96 download from
eClassical.com
Pdf booklet included
BIS BIS-2412 SACD
[67:38]
I’ve long admired BIS’s Lan Shui/Singapore SO recordings, from
Seascapes
in 2007 to the concluding instalment of the ‘quite splendid’ final volume
of their
Debussy
ballet series in 2019. In between, they’ve covered a fair amount of Russian
and other repertoire, much of which points to a fine ensemble led by a
pleasingly unpretentious conductor. (Lan Shui, MD of the orchestra since
1997, retired from the post in January 2019.) Indeed, it’s no coincidence
the albums singled out above were among my top picks for the years in
question.
In my early record-collecting days, an LP cover emblazoned with the word
‘spectacular’ was the audio equivalent of catnip. Those that lived up to
the name whetted my appetite for system-stretching sonics. The famous
Telarc LPs, with their mischievous stickers about possible damage to one’s
woofers - the Erich Kunzel/Cincinnati Pops’ 1812 springs to mind -
were especially enticing. As it happens, their 1978 recording of the
Mussorgsky pieces, with Lorin Maazel and the Cleveland Orchestra, remains
my benchmark for that coupling. Although the aloof American wasn’t popular
in the UK, on a good day he was hard to beat. And if you just want Pictures, with assorted fillers, Eduardo Mata and the Dallas
Symphony, recorded in 1981, is pretty exciting, too (Sony). Fast forward to
2019 and the François-Xavier Roth/Les Siècles Pictures. John Quinn
had good things to say about that performance, but I found the phrasing,
tempi and some of those period-instrument timbres a little too quirky for my
taste (Harmonia Mundi).
As for the Borodin, it’s been included in numerous compilations in the
past. One such is Romantic Russia, with Sir Georg Solti and the
LSO. A Decca/Kingsway Hall recording made in 1966 - Gordon Parry and
Kenneth Wilkinson presiding - the collection includes a rather splendid
account of the Polovtsian Dances. Unusually for this conductor,
the music thrills without being overdriven. And while there are
comparatively few recordings of Islamey in its orchestral form,
I’ve much enjoyed Evgeny Svetlanov’s earthily authentic 1988 recording with
the USSR State SO. The coupling, Sergei Lyapunov’s Symphony No. 1, is well
worth hearing, too (Olympia).
Lan Shui’s Night on the Bare Mountain may lack the sheer weight
and slam of Maazel’s, but the upside is that his more considered and
spacious reading - complemented by Rita Hermeyer’s fine recording - reveals
an astonishing amount of colour and nuance. In that sense, the presentation
is more musical than Maazel’s. The playing is very good indeed,
harpist Gulnara Mashurova’s contributions simply exquisite. It certainly
helps that the recording gives the music - and musicians - so much room to
breathe. As a bonus, one’s also reminded of what an accomplished and
intuitive orchestrator Rimsky really was. This is a most illuminating
performance, although I suspect some listeners will prefer a bigger, bolder
presentation. As an aside, this conductor’s thoughtful, revealing
musicianship is mirrored by that of pianist Alessio Bax, whose ear-pricking
arrangement of the piece - with Konstantin Chernov - is a must-hear for all
Mussorgskians. That album, yet another Recording of the Year, also contains
a first-rate account of the original Pictures (Signum).
From the first Promenade, it’s clear Lan Shui, like Roth, aspires to a
lighter, attractively transparent take on Ravel’s Pictures.
Indeed, one could argue it’s very French, emphasising as it does the
orchestrator’s musical heritage as much - if not more - than the
composer’s. The splendid recording comes into its own in the work’s quieter
moments; for instance, the second Promenade has a chamber-like intimacy
that can’t fail to please. But, as expected, the larger canvases are more
of a problem. The Gnome is reasonably well characterised, the bass drum -
unlike the (in)famous Telarc one - powerful without threatening to
overwhelm the orchestra. As for The Old Castle, the sax solo fairly well
taken, it surely needs a lot more heft and thrust than it gets from Lan
Shui and the SSO. Not only that, the conductor’s approach - too measured,
mostly - drains the music of energy and colour, one picture
indistinguishable from the next. That ox-cart lumbering across the
landscape, is a major disappointment. It’s unaccountably sluggish, and the
performance isn’t helped by sometimes tentative brass playing.
Lan Shui and his doughty band fare much better with the precision and point
of Tuileries, The Market at Limoges and The Ballet of the Unhatched Chicks.
The musicians are alive to all this animation, delighting, too, in Ravel’s
orchestral wizardry. Alas, Samuel Goldenberg and Schmuÿle appear slightly
anonymous, the show-stopping Hut on Fowl’s Legs lacking essential urge and
amplitude. And while the conductor, unhurried as ever, finds a degree of
splendour in The Bogatyr Gate - the SSO’s tam-tam just marvellous - Maazel
and Mata are unrivalled at this point. Goodness, it’s hard to believe those
remarkable recordings date back to the late 1970s/early 1980s.
Happily, these Singaporeans make up for that rather frustrating gallery
tour with a colourful, rhythmically alert performance of Islamey.
Now that’s more like it, conductor and orchestra revelling in
Lyapunov’s exhilarating arrangement. In passing, those interested in the
original piano version need look no further than BIS artists
Freddy Kempf
and
Alexandre Kantorow.
There’s more good news, though; Lan Shui, his impassioned players and
transported singers end the programme with a quite magnificent rendition of
the Polovtsian Dances, that elemental, pounding bass drum superbly
caught. (Indeed, even the great Solti is left wanting here, the Decca sound
now showing its age.) In short, a thrilling, genuinely spectacular sign-off
to this programme.
Only one performance is below par, the rest are excellent; good sound
throughout.
Dan Morgan
