Michael Schønwandt’s reissued recording of Nielsen’s
First and Sixth symphonies (see
review)
impressed me so much I was eager to hear his versions of
the Second and Third. This cycle is not new – it appeared
on Dacapo some years ago and was well reviewed here on
MusicWeb at the time (
see
review). Certainly Naxos have made a very good job
of the transfers and at super budget prices these discs are
very competitive indeed.
In
my earlier review I compared Schønwandt with Jukka-Pekka
Saraste and his Finnish Radio orchestra, referring to Herbert
Blomstedt’s two Nielsen sets in passing. At the time I
had not heard Ole Schmidt’s cycle with the London Symphony
Orchestra, now available on Regis RRC 3002. The latter,
a three-disc set retailing for around £14, works out at
roughly £4.50 per disc, so Naxos aren’t without rivals
at this price point.. As for Schmidt’s performances, I’ll
touch on those later.
Curiously
Naxos have reversed the order of the symphonies on this
disc – they did the same with a recent Taneyev release.
Since I can’t think of a good reason for this I’ll start
with the earlier work. Ostensibly based on a painting in
a village pub, ‘The Four Temperaments’ deals with the four
bodily humours and their distinctive traits: choleric,
phlegmatic, melancholic and sanguine. There are also key
relationships at work in these movements but really the
symphony is a series of character sketches.
The
first movement (
Allegro collerico) finds Schønwandt
in ebullient mood, with some crisp playing from the Danish
brass. There is plenty of thrust here, not to mention moments
of towering grandeur. The recording is spacious and warm,
the timps especially well caught. Instinctively, or so
it seems, Schønwandt finds the
tempo giusto, bringing
tremendous urge and a marvellous sense of scale to this
craggy symphony. In the last stretch the lewd brass sound
splendid, the orchestra forging ahead with precision and
weight.
The
phlegmatic second movement has a gentle bucolic charm that
is hard to resist, Schønwandt pointing up all Nielsen’s
instrumental strands and colours along the way. The mournful
but lyrical
Andante malincolico has some lovely
string playing and as always Schønwandt shapes and builds
the Brucknerian climaxes very naturally indeed.
There
is a real sense that conductor and players know this music
well and are alive to its shifting moods. The jaunty, sanguine
finale is no exception, pizzicato strings as nimble as
can be, the dance-like rhythms both buoyant and propulsive.
Again there is some fine string playing, hushed this time,
before the music swaggers to a rousing conclusion. In music
that can so easily seem rhetorical it’s good to hear a
performance with such a strong, purposeful stride.
Schønwandt’s
reading of the Second is much more bracing than Saraste’s
and the Danish orchestra is generally more responsive and
characterful. The same applies to the Third, which Schønwandt
gets off to a thrilling start. Saraste sounds a tad underpowered
here, those strange whooping figures less captivating than
they are for Schønwandt. The recorded sound strikes a good
balance between warmth and clarity, with no sign of congestion
or glare.
The
title ‘
Espansiva’, added as an afterthought, suggests
some kind of intellectual quest, the rarefied air of the
Andante
pastorale superbly evoked by the wordless singing of
the two soloists. Inger Dam-Jensen is particularly ethereal
here. The highly animated
Allegretto is reminiscent
of the hero’s battle with his critics in
Ein Heldenleben,
albeit without the oversized ego. It is a far cry from
the noble and ennobling music of the previous movement
and is again essayed with great polish and refinement.
The
Finale:
Allegro moves into a jubilant phase, complete
with a series of blazing perorations. There is a palpable
sense of attainment here, the sustained but reassuring
passage that begins at 5:24 nicely articulated. And while
triumph is in the air here it is quite without vanity;
indeed, despite Nielsen’s subtext the great climax at the
end of this symphony has a human dimension rather than
a lofty philosophical one. The Danes bring it off superbly,
making this one of the most thrilling Nielsen Thirds around.
Schønwandt’s
Nielsen has an authority. a sure sense of structure and
direction, that I’ve come to admire very much indeed. I
wouldn’t want to be without Saraste’s vital readings, even
though Schønwandt outpoints him in many respects. And one
can’t ignore Ole Schmidt, whose towering performance of
the Third is essential listening. A pre-digital recording
from the 1970s the latter has astonishing range and power.
More than that Schmidt brings out all the subsidiary strands
in this music, the LSO – at their peak and playing with
rare intensity. Schmidt’s Second is no less compelling,
but compared with Schønwandt the honours are more evenly
divided here.
With just the Fourth
and Fifth to come these performances could well attain
classic status. Certainly Schønwandt’s readings rival Schmidt’s,
even if they don’t surpass them. Frankly I wouldn’t want
to be without either.
Dan
Morgan
see also review by Leslie Wright
(July 2008 Bargain of the Month)
Inger Dam-Jensen
(soprano); Poul Elming (tenor)* 
