Having greatly enjoyed Marco Guidarini’s Paysages
recording for the Talent label I needed no second bidding
to see what he would come up with for some of my all-time favourite
music. Looking classy in livery which reminds me of an old LP
sleeve, this programme is an attractive prospect which pretty
much delivers on all fronts. I hadn’t heard of the Japan Soloists
Orchestra, and there is no information on them in the booklet,
nor on the occasion of what turns out to be a live concert recording.
Aside from a few noises from the rostrum there is precious little
to give this away until the instant applause at the end of the
Bartók.
Having collected a rather substantial number of versions of
Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra, my pre-programmed memory
of the piece is something of an amalgam. What I can say from
the start is that this performance is in fact rather good. From
the atmosphere of the opening to the blistering excitement of
the Finale there is plenty of crack playing, and Guidarini
has a firm grip on pretty much ideal tempi throughout. The recording
is good too – immediate and transparent for the most part, but
with one or two rather subjective imperfections which in fact
come across to a greater extent in the more revealing SACD mode.
I might be being a bit picky, but the timpani can be a bit tubby
and indistinct at times, filling in resonance rather than percussive
emphasis. This is only the case above a certain volume level
however, for instance in the Andante non troppo third
movement: the subtle little touches elsewhere are fine. Be prepared
to hold onto your hat when the tuba plays full force as well.
I did detect one or two cleanup edits here and there, but for
a live performance there are precious few errors, and the only
little glitch I found was in the 4th movement, Intermezzo
interrotto, where the first flute makes a mess of the end
of that laughing phrase just before that raspberry trombone
slide at 2:14, coming off the repeated notes one too soon. Perhaps
the side drum is a bit loud at the opening of the second movement,
but that’s really neither here nor there. All of the favourite
moments are done very nicely – that brass chorale in the Allegretto
scherzando, all of the lovely tunes, dark bass lines and
instrumental solos are mostly done very well indeed. The benefits
of the recording also allow little details to come through that
you might not have noticed before, such as the inner string
glissandi in the second movement. As a whole, this recording
may not have quite the bite and impact of Fritz Reiner and the
Chicago Symphony Orchestra on RCA, which is also available on
a SACD disc, but so far I’m not complaining.
Ravel’s Ma mère l’oye is another marvellous masterpiece,
and again the team here acquits itself very well indeed. Gently
atmospheric strings, mostly well intonated winds and nicely
phrased solos all combine to make for a delightful listening
experience. These are essentially light pieces, and Guidarini
doesn’t go in for excessive point making, allowing the music
to flow naturally and the colourful orchestration to speak for
itself. The only minor points probably have more to do with
the recording than the performance. The entrance of the gong
in the Laideronnette for instance might possibly be considered
a little too up-front and unsubtle, not really rising from within
the orchestra but certainly an imposing presence. There is a
mild, heavily suppressed audience explosion 51seconds into Le
jardin féerique but again, for a live performance, this
is a pretty clean sound and mostly good stuff. Favourite
versions of Ma mère l’oye such as Bernard Haitink’s early
1970s Concertgebouw recording now available on a Pentatone SACD
need not have too much to fear from this newcomer, but I can
live with it quite happily.
Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet is justly popular, and
once again the performance here is very good but not wholly
world-beating. The wind chords in the beginning are close to
being in tune, but miss out on being perfect by a few hairs-breadths
here and there. The orchestral sound Guidarini obtains is rich
and full however, and the ‘aaaaahhh’ effect of those marvellous
progressions early in the work are beautifully expressed. The
tubby timpani are back in evidence to a certain extent in the
dramatic tutti passages which can be rather boomy, but you can
blame that on the bass drum as well. With the orchestra at full
tilt this isn’t really a huge problem, but the low percussion
doesn’t do much more than assist rather than really drive the
intensity of those rhythmic sections. The ‘big tune’ when it
arrives each time is nicely done, as is the final apotheosis,
but I didn’t immediately melt at the knees and fall in love.
As usual with Talent CDs, there are a few little funny typos
and odd idiomatic strangulations here and there in the booklet.
If for instance you are wondering what the text means by ‘the
score is created’ or that musicians ‘performed the creation’,
this refers to the première performance rather than a non sequitur
reference to Haydn or Milhaud. This is one of those well-filled
CDs which is nice to have for the programme, and to keep around
as a healthy alternative to stop those oft-played old favourites
from crusting up your mental pathways. The SACD sound is good
enough, and certainly a more spacious and luxuriant experience
than the standard stereo layer, which can even be a little congested
sounding in places. There is no actual surround decoding mentioned
on the disc, and I can’t say the multi-channel experience was
vastly superior to straight SACD stereo.
Dominy Clements
Japan Soloists Symphony Orchestra/Marco Guidarini 
[74:28] 
