The greatest Berlioz conductors recently have
been Charles Munch and Sir Colin Davis. Munch was from Alsace,
positioned between Germany and France, and equally able to soften
the excessive German-ness of Brahms as he was to Germanize excess
French-ness in Berlioz. England has, since 1066, also lain between
Germany and France, so it is no surprise that an English conductor
like Davis should be equally able to balance music that was in
its conception slightly off center.
The only one of these performances I was previously
acquainted with was the Harold in Italy, and, for all its
virtues, mostly in the gorgeous tone of the soloist, Yuri Bashmet,
this recording lies a bit on the German side of all right. Orchestral
balance is excellent, sound is full, clear and thrilling. If you
really love this music you already have the 1952 Beecham recording,
and this makes a nice super sound companion to round out your
collection.
This recording by Inbal may be overall the best
CD of Romeo and Juliet ever done. The recorded sound is
brilliant, the orchestral playing energetic, the baritone persuasive
and the chorus committed and lively. The all-time great performance
of the work is on the sound track of a video recorded by Seiji
Ozawa and the Boston Symphony Orchestra about 30 years ago; their
studio recording follow-up failed to measure up, and the video
has never been offered for home viewing. Munch’s recording with
the BSO is one of his least successful, being in 1953 mono sound
with college choirs and a very uncommitted Friar Laurence. The
first part is great — considering; but never mind, it’s been cut
out and long remaindered.
Whether or not Berlioz ever actually considered
writing a full length opera on the Shakespeare play Romeo and
Juliet, the first part of the "Dramatic Symphony"
consists of movements that could easily form entr’actes
and set pieces from such a work. The drama does not really begin
until last third of the work when Friar Laurence in a text by
Berlioz likens the heterosexual sacrifice of Romeo and Juliet
to Jesus’ death on the cross. He then offers his own life as an
additional sacrifice in an invocation on God to perform a miracle
of reconciliation between the warring families who, until that
very moment, have remained firm in their resolve to continue their
violent vendetta. God obliges, sparing Friar Laurence, and the
Montagues and Capulets abruptly reform exclaiming that their hearts
have been miraculously healed and pledge eternal friendship in
the names of their slain children. It is odd that the Atheist
Berlioz should tamper with Shakespeare to the extent of adding
more religion than was there already. Regardless, what we have
is in essence a brief operatic scene with a very, very long overture,
another example of Berlioz’s experimental approach to large musical
forms.
It’s hard to realize today that for 125 years
Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony was considered a failed
experiment, a would-be masterpiece, a problematic work. Critics
analyzed it and catalogued its many faults, and a number of composers
wrote works which in one way or another patched up what were seen
as the obvious deficiencies of the Beethoven work. Perhaps the
very first was Berlioz’s Romeo and Juliet, a symphony with
a choral finale. Obviously, Berlioz considered Beethoven’s error
was in using oratorio rather than opera as his model, so here
we have a choral symphony which addresses monumental themes in
the context of a personal tragic story, albeit highly abstracted.
Berlioz’s baritone soloist is an individual with a name, in distinction
to Beethoven’s anonymous cheerleader, Everyman. Also Berlioz’s
work, as in Mahler’s Second Symphony, has a dramatic mood
development during the choral finale, remedying another frequently
cited fault in the Beethoven work which was derided for its juvenile
unvarying repetition of ‘Joy! Joy! Joy!’ In Berlioz, as in Mahler’s
Second Symphony, the chorus starts out singing one thing and ends
up singing something else.
The Symphonie Fantastique is brilliantly
recorded, measured and unfrantic. Inbal observes the repeat in
the ‘March to the Scaffold’ movement which used to be considered
not only unnecessary but a dramatic absurdity, but now of course
must be done regardless. The recording gives prominence to the
string basses and raucous low brass as called for in the score.
The wind players especially deserve commendation for their attention
to authentic performance details. The bells are not just orchestra
chimes but have the quality of real churchbells. The bass drum
sounds like it’s ten feet across. However, my old favorites, Stokowski
(Decca 1967) and Scherchen (Nixa 1953 mono, now available on the
TAHRA label) both manage to generate more mystery and excitement,
in small part because they do NOT observe the fourth movement
repeat. But no one is likely to buy this set to get a first recording
of the Symphonie Fantastique, and this one, due to its
unusual fidelity to the score, is a worthy addition to any collection,
far better than the Norrington "original" version which
is disappointingly plodding.
Sir Colin Davis’s recording of Berlioz’s Requiem
[ADD] is one of the greatest recordings of anything ever done.
Another recent and well thought of recording is by Robert Shaw
on Telarc. Inbal’s recording compares favorably with both of these
in several ways. Davis’s chorus is the most involved. In the critical
Dies Irae section his tenors move from being mad as hell
to being scared to death. Davis’s operatic sense of drama carries
the day easily, but unfortunately the sound, although excellent,
is just starting to show its age. Shaw has the best recorded sound
with a deep perspective and very well trained, if uninvolved singers.
He accents the drum parts with shattering sforzandi not
heard in other versions — thunderclaps on Calvary perhaps? Inbal
achieves the requested overpowering sound from the massed brass
and drums. His choruses are skilled and project strongly, but
they are neither angry or frightened; there is a curious disconnectedness
between the chorus and orchestra, as though they were recorded
separately somewhere else and added in later. Also his chorus
sounds smaller than either Shaw or Davis. The Charles Munch recording
is admirable in many ways, but is smaller sounding and the sound
is dated. Berlioz’s Requiem has always been the quintessential
hi-fi demonstration piece and the sound must overpower or the
music loses its perspective.
Robert Shaw is a Protestant minister who has
devoted his life to preaching the gospel through music. Not knowing
the religious views of either Davis or Inbal, I cannot begin to
make a complete statement on this issue. But, Berlioz was an Atheist
and to him death was absolutely terrifying; Shaw’s genial Protestantism
may be just a little too optimistic for him to capture the fearful
drama here. The Catholic view of death is more severe and more
emotional, and was closer to Berlioz’s cultural, if not intellectual,
attitude.
Inbal’s tenor (Keith Lewis) is far and away the
best in the Sanctus in his mystical dialogue with the angels’
chorus. Davis’s tenor (Ronald Dowd) is operatic but not accurate.
Shaw’s tenor (John Aler, also heard here in L’Enfance du Christ)
is almost as good if just a little more extroverted than Lewis,
but the following Hosanna fugue has too much inappropriate
Handelian grandeur, whereas Inbal gives us a Bachian allegro.
I have heard that Pavarotti has sung this part, and just thinking
about that makes me ill.
Berlioz described his Te Deum as a ‘little
brother’ to the Requiem not only because it is shorter,
but presumably also because it is somewhat lighter in tone. Davis’s
recording omits two bright ceremonial marches and attempts to
give the work as much operatic drama as possible and make it comparable
to the Requiem in grandeur. Inbal’s inclusion of these
two sprightly marches lightens the mood of the whole piece. Again
Keith Lewis excels in the tenor part; the sound is clear if not
quite so spacious as the Davis [ADD] recording.
The Damnation of Faust has been recorded
frequently and is now described as an ‘opera’ although it was
not always so, for there is no attempt to tell the whole story.
Only scenes from it here and there are presented; in fact the
work was originally titled "Eight Scenes from Faust."
Faust dies unrepentant, only Marguerite is raised to paradise.
In the final choruses in Hell the residents sing in a nonsense
language based upon scientific research into the sounds actually
uttered by the damned. Dante notwithstanding, in the Enlightenment
Rationalist view the inmates of Hell obviously cannot speak, for
if they could they would ask for forgiveness which the One True
Merciful God would naturally grant them.
The first hi-fi recording was by Charles Munch
and the Boston Symphony Orchestra, which was also RCA’s first
stereo mastered recording. Although his Marguerite was disappointing,
Munch’s Faust (David Poleri) and Mephistopheles (Martial Singher)
are still unsurpassed, especially in their ensemble scenes. Singher’s
exultant "Je suis vainqueur!" cancelling out
Faust’s scream of terror as he falls into Hell is a moment that
will stay with you forever. Curiously, the stereo master tape
of this performance has been stolen and only the monophonic tape
is still in the RCA/BMG archives and that is what was released
on CD.
During the Ride To The Abyss sequence
Faust and Mephistopheles on horseback encounter a procession of
children singing a hymn to the Virgin; when they see Mephistopheles
riding past, the children’s singing is cut off by a scream. Most
conductors (including Munch) have the chorus merely sing a single
high note, but Inbal actually has them shriek individually and
run away. And, Inbal has the best Marguerite (Maria Ewing) I’ve
ever heard, his orchestra and choruses perform beautifully and
are given excellent digital sound, and his men are OK, resulting
in a better than satisfactory version. But if you want the very
best Mephistopheles, you will also want to have the Munch recording.
Ian Lace on MusicWeb recommends the 1973 Colin Davis ADD recording
which I have not been able to hear, but the soloists on that recording
are not as well known as the ones recommended above. While several
reviewers feel that Davis’s new recording on LSO Live is the best
one, although I have not heard it, other reviewers observed that
the chorus was slightly less than distinguished and tended to
get tired as the evening progressed, a likely difficulty with
a live performance of a work lasting over two hours. Reviewers
for glossy magazines generally have a tendency to recommend the
newest recording, whatever; it’s good for advertising revenues.
L’Enfance du Christ is possibly the least
known of all the works in this set. In comparing this version
with the Sir Colin Davis [ADD] recording on Double Decca, generally
recommended as the best available, Inbal has the advantage in
the orchestra and chorus sound and, whatever we want to think,
John Aler is clearly more effective as the Récitant than
Peter Pears. Pears’ fatal wobble had already set in by the time
of this recording (1960) and in Les Pèlerins étant
venus it is devastating. Davis’s approach is more operatic,
but that is not always a clear advantage. Elsie Morison’s voice
is lighter and more secure than Margarita Zimmermann’s, however
the very lack of those qualities can at times makes Zimmermann
sound more authentically maternal. Davis’s Joseph, John Cameron,
and his Hérode, Joseph Rouleau, are both superior in richness
of sound and dramatic control to Inbal’s male singers. Since Enfance
is a relatively brief work for two CDs, Davis’s recording is filled
out with four brief Berlioz vocal cantatas. Nobody will buy this
set only for L’Enfance, and the real question is whether
you will be satisfied with Inbal or will want the Davis also,
and you can make up your mind about that in due time.
Paul Shoemaker
Eliahu Inbal conducting the
Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra