Very often the first recording you hear of a work new to you leaves
such an impression that it “imprints” on you, making it hard to
appreciate different new interpretations. James Conlon was an
early champion of Zemlinsky’s music, and for many years, his work
dominated the market. It was interesting to revisit Conlon after
the many new recordings that have come along since the huge revival
of interest in this composer has sharpened the whole way we listen.
Conlon
wasn’t the only Zemlinsky champion. Riccardo Chailly’s series
for Decca may not have gained as much market saturation, but
although not as widely encompassing it’s definitely worth seeking
out. Chailly’s version of Die Seejungfrau was recorded
some nine years before Conlon’s, but seems timeless, because
Chailly and the Berlin Radio Orchestra are more refined, getting
closer to the complexities in Zemlinsky’s music. Refinement
is important in Zemlinsky’s lush, fin-de–siècle idiom. Die
Seejungfrau, written in 1903 was the composer’s take on
the splendours of the very late Romantic. It’s a fairy tale,
after all, albeit gruesome, and needs a light, magical touch,
so the delicate textures can breathe. Conlon plays up the obvious
pictorial aspects of the piece enthusiastically, but there’s
more to this music than there is in this fairly straightforward
recording. In 2005, he conducted the BBC Symphony Orchestra
in this piece at the Proms (see review)
with much more clarity and emotional charge. The Gürzenich Orchestra,
is good - they played with Mahler no less - so perhaps Conlon
brought to the Proms performance the benefit of several more
years of “living with” the music.
Another
great Zemlinsky performer and perhaps the Zemlinsky authority
par excellence is Anthony Beaumont. He is so attuned
to the composer’s idiom that anything he does is worth listening
to, whoever he may be working with. Beaumont’s recording, with
the Czech Philharmonic is livelier though Conlon’s approach
moves with an expansive sweep.
For
a long time, Chailly’s Lyrische Symphony, with Alessandra
Marc and Hagegård was one to get. Because I’m fond of Dorothy
Dorow, I also like the early Gabriele Ferro recording where she
sings – magnificently if somewhat over the top – with Sigmund
Nimsgern. Beaumont’s recording is orchestrally lucid but suffers
from indifferent singing, a fatal weakness in a work so demanding
of singers. Beaumont, however, uses a new edition of the score
where inconsistencies and errors are cleaned up, liberating the
music so to speak. Thus Eschenbach’s recording truly was groundbreaking,
building upon Beaumont’s scholarship and insight. The Orchestre
de Paris gives Eschenbach such beautifully refined, clear colours
that they prove what Beaumont meant when he said “In performance,
the score requires Mozartean grace and precision. For all its
abandon, this music reveals its true beauty only when performed
with discipline and cool-headed restraint”. The symphony shines
with Eschenbach, and his singers, Schäfer and Goerne are utterly
unequalled. Conlon has the excellent Soile Isokoski, but she alone
isn’t enough to rescue this recording from leaden fussiness in
the orchestral playing. As Beaumont also said “often the singers
are engulfed in a dark forest of orchestral filigree work”. He
wasn’t referring to Conlon’s recording which was made long after
Beaumont published his commentary, but it describes it uncomfortably
closely. The Lyric Symphony may dwell on erotic love and
sumptuous exoticism, but its aim is liberation of the spirit.
If a performance is earthbound, it misses the point completely.
The Eschenbach recording is so good that it’s one of my Desert
Island Discs (please see
review). Poor Conlon is no competition.
For
the Cymbeline Suite, Beaumont is again the comparison,
This is another fairy tale, this time from Shakespeare, so again
diaphanous textures are a good idea, but Conlon’s dream-like
leisureliness isn’t inappropriate – the plot does, after all
involve potions that numb the senses! This allows Conlon to
dwell on the rococo that has for so long dominated Zemlinsky’s
image. But the composer is no “lesser Wagner”, as Frühlingsbegräbnis
demonstrates. This piece is contemporary with Hugo Wolf’s
ventures into the genre. Where Conlon does score well is in
these early pieces, before Zemlinsky’s style takes on a more
complex edge. Thus Tanzpoem waltzes along gracefully,
culminating in a coda that’s pure Hollywood.
This
release is a 3 CD set reissue of previously released recordings.
Anyone familiar with Zemlinsky will already have the originals,
while new listeners are advised to seek out alternatives. It’s
priced very low, which should appeal to those wanting a complete
set of Zemlinsky recordings, since Conlon is, after all, important
to the genre. Others might want to spend a bit more and get other
recordings: in the long term what makes something cheap isn’t
the initial price but how much high value listening you get.
Anne Ozorio
