It’s good that these works are receiving fresh and agreeably
transparent recordings from Chandos and the BBCPO. We need a
successor to Marriner,
Anthony Halstead and Roy Goodman on Nimbus, John Georgiadis
on Naxos (a strong contender by all accounts) and the fondly
remembered Hans-Hubert Schönzeler, once on an RCA LP and then
reissued on Guild GMCD7138. The disc comes into direct competitive
confrontation with a recent-ish and excellent full price CD
from Bis
and the Tapiola Sinfonietta conducted by Jean-Jacques Kantorow.
I have good memories of the now almost ‘ancient’ Schönzeler
but have not heard the others.
Berlioz’s fingerprints are all over the Weber Invitation
to the Dance. While the maelstrom that was Berlioz is said
only to have orchestrated the piece one wonders whether the
unblushingly candid references to the Symphonie Fantastique
indicate more than ‘mere’ orchestration. It is - or was - a
classical ‘pop’ with its manic-triumphant dance spasms and its
placid solo cello introduction and farewell. Mena and his orchestra
bring real style to the proceedings. The conductor here favours
a lean rather than lush ‘edge’ to the upper register of the
strings … or is it the MediaCity acoustic? I don’t remember
hearing that ‘edge’ when the BBCPO were recorded at Studio 7
in Manchester.
The First and Second Symphonies are full of Rossinian contrast,
tense pattering figures and Schubertian vigour. The recording
here lovingly lays bare the many felicitous details of these
scores. Nothing is skated over. They will appeal to anyone who
loves the first two Schubert symphonies or Beethoven 4 or 8
and there is a romantic yet concise pathos to these readings.
Weber is never long-winded. If anything he finishes a movement
leaving you wanting more; that’s certainly true of the finished-almost-before-it-started
finale of No. 2. The skirl and stomp of this symphony inevitably
suggests a link with Beethoven’s Seventh.
The Weber Bassoon
Concerto is in three movements. It is not recorded as often
as the much-exposed clarinet and orchestra works. Taking on
a romantic persona here it is jaunty rather than jovial. The
music is, time after time, superbly pointed and accented by
soloist and orchestra. Karen Geoghegan is recorded upfront and
personal without effacing the almost Mozartean orchestral backdrop.
The notes are by Harriet Smith and manage an equable balance
between the factual and the musically descriptive: a pleasure
to read. We can hope that Chandos will commission more from
this writer.
A doughty entrant in the hardly over-populated Weber catalogue.
Enjoyable stuff.
Rob Barnett
Karen Geoghegan (bassoon)