With upwards of a dozen
highly recommendable Falstaffs
in the catalogue, and nearly twice that
for the Cello Concerto, this latest
instalment in the Hallé’s ‘Elgar
Edition’ enters very crowded waters.
Apart from some minor quibbles, it can
be counted a success, though whether
it will displace your favourites is
another matter.
The great symphonic
study, Falstaff, has been exceptionally
lucky on disc. From the composer’s own
memorable EMI reading, through those
by Barbirolli, Handley, Mackerras and
Rattle, the collector is spoilt for
choice. Mark Elder brings his considerable
theatrical experience to bear on what
is Elgar’s most programmatic work, and
the result is refreshingly direct, invigorating
and characterful. Above all, Elder helps
the listener to visualize the story
behind the many incidents and his reading,
whilst never sounding rushed (Mackerras
is nearer Elgar’s suggested thirty minutes)
constantly leads the ear on to the next
section. Some find the work Elgar’s
most Straussian composition, a sort
of Don Quixote meets Ein Heldenleben,
and Elder seems to agree, with moments
of great swagger and rumbustiousness.
The very opening is a case in point,
with a wonderfully cohesive Hallé
articulating the unison downward figure
with great aplomb. Elder puts on some
extra minutes by relaxing in certain
passages (notably the moving ending,
‘Falstaff’s Death’) where Elgar himself
(and Mackerras) really keeps things
moving along. However, with such good
playing and wide-ranging recording,
he can be forgiven odd indulgences.
Overall this is a very impressive account.
Likewise, the Cello
Concerto is strongly characterized,
with a ripely romantic reading of the
solo part balanced out by a tightly
structured general approach. This account
is certainly more impressive than Schiff’s
earlier, 1982 Philips recording with
Neville Marriner and the Dresden Staatskapelle,
where the blandness of both soloist
and orchestra stopped the reading taking
wing. The older Schiff seems to have
found a ‘voice’ for this piece now,
and his deeply-felt playing has spirit,
tenderness and fire in equal measure.
If you like a more classically balanced
approach (like Tortelier’s 1954 account
with Sargent) this may not be for you,
although Schiff’s big-boned performance
is, as mentioned earlier, nicely countered
by Elder’s taut conducting.
The Romance
for bassoon may be familiar to some
in its arrangement for cello and orchestra,
but it is nice to hear it in its original
form particularly when the playing is
as persuasive and free of mannerism
as Graham Salvage’s. The Smoking
Cantata is a musical joke, Elgar’s
response to being chided for smoking
at a friend’s house. It consists of
51 seconds of heavily orchestrated pseudo-Wagner
which accompany the words ‘kindly, kindly
do not smoke in the hall or stairs’.
It is good fun, but hardly likely to
sway you towards the disc, even with
its ‘premiere recording’ status.
The recording is very
full bodied, though I was bothered by
the audible edit points between tracks
(a small click) that ought not to be
present. It’s particularly noticeable
in the quieter passages of Falstaff,
though I was using headphones at the
time. The brief liner notes are by veteran
expert Michael Kennedy, and as is the
modern way, the user is directed towards
the dedicated website for more information
on the music and performances.
Tony Haywood
Andrew Shore (baritone) 
