RECORDING OF THE MONTH
Claude DEBUSSY (1862-1918)
Images (1905-12) [35:55]
Jeux (1912-13) [17:32]
Nocturnes (1897-99)* [24:13]
La Mer (1903-05) [23:58]
Prélude à l’après-midi d’une faune
(1891-94) [10:14]
Marche écossaise sur un thème populaire (1890) [6:32]
Printemps (1887) [15:12]
Two movements from L’Enfant prodigue (1884; revised 1907-08)
[7:04]
Berceuse héroïque (1914) [4:34]
Women of the Royal Scottish National Orchestra Chorus*
Royal Scottish National Orchestra/Stéphane Denève
rec. 10-12 October 2011 and 7-9 February 2012, Royal Concert Hall, Glasgow
CHANDOS CHSA 5102(2) [78:04 + 68:22]
This is one heck of a collection, and beautifully performed throughout. I’ve
mentioned that feeling of a record feeling ‘right’ in the groove
almost before the music starts, and this is very much one of these. The opening
of Images is genuinely haunting, the unearthly sounds sending one scurrying
for the score to find out what is going on. Fear not; ’tis only a trio
clarinets, but those little grace notes never sounded quite so spooky. Don’t
turn up the volume too loud, as the opening of the second movement Ibéria
will blow your wig off.
This is the kind of state of the art recording which will mercilessly reveal
inaccuracies, but everyone is at the top of their game, and you can hear the
care and preparation which has gone into making these performances better
than many or most, perhaps even all. Such attention to detail might of course
lead to over-analytical sterility, but there are plenty of little touches
which will automatically raise a smile. Have a listen to those brass glissandi
at 5:04 in that second of the Images. These things aren’t always
as apparent as they might be in recordings, and Denève does just enough
to give them prominence without becoming vulgar. Le Matin d’un jour
de fête is tremendously pictorial, with hefty string pizzicati and
a powerful sense of folksy fun and perhaps even some danger - the spirit of
Stravinsky just around the corner. The rhythmic power towards the end of Rondes
de printemps is irresistible.
Jeux was Debussy’s last original orchestral work, and written
for a Diaghilev ballet - first performed in fact just two weeks before Stravinsky’s
infamous première of Le Sacre du printemps. Debussy is less
overtly controversial than Stravinsky, but this remains music full of enigmatic
tonal questions and a remarkably complex structure. This is one recording
and performance in which all of the “brief, kaleidoscopically changing
themes [and] orchestration continually in flux” of Roger Nichols’
booklet notes can be heard with startling clarity. This is tricky enough music
to play let alone to create a choreography for or to dance to, but the imagination
is set alight by such a brilliant performance. The booklet has a complete
outline of the narrative, which is a fascinating read.
Nocturnes is nothing if not atmospheric in its outer movements, and
the opening Nuages is superbly melancholic here. The weight of the
brass chords in the central Fêtes will blow your socks off, and
the choir of Sirènes is suitably distant and ethereal, if just
a fraction below the note in places. I’ve always liked André
Previn’s London Symphony Orchestra Debussy recording, to be found in
various guises on EMI,
and his Nocturnes is inspiring. The choir is a little more forward
and vibrato laden than with Denève and the Chandos production is a
little more glossy, but Previn stands as a reminder that even the best of
new recordings can’t take away the superlatives from some of the classic
versions.
I’ve pulled a few references out to make comparisons for these pieces,
but this Chandos recording and Stéphane Denève’s conducting
knocks most of them into a cocked tricorne. Jean Martinon’s EMI collection
with the Orchestre National de l’ORTF (see review)
has plenty of French character and pungency, but also includes plenty of edgy
intonation. A more recent collection on single discs has emerged from the
Naxos label with the Orchestre National de Lyon conducted by Jun Märkl,
and the playing here is of a higher if more homogenised standard to Martinon.
These recordings are full of beautiful moments and received mixed if generally
positive reviews when released, but once again Denève has the Lyon
orchestra beaten at every turn. The atmosphere is more uniquely breathtaking,
the dance rhythms lighter and more convincingly driven, the recording a more
balanced and integrated orchestral picture with the Naxos sound tending to
be a touch too spotlit, picking out solos beautifully but losing that essential
sense of integration when everything is brought together.
Moving on to the second disc, and a La Mer which again is strong on
atmosphere. We all have our individual associations with this kind of work,
and for me this is a seascape of abstracts rather than redolent of any specific
region - southern, Atlantic, it could be any impressive seascape. String separation
is a notable feature of some passages in De l’aube à midi
sur la mer, the clarity in the 5th minute creating striking
darting spatial effects.There’s a greater sense of threat and
danger in Martinon’s Dialogue du vent et de la mer, Denève’s
cleanliness of texture holding out a scene which has an extra layer of Turner-esque
objectivity; superb for the imagination, but without the feeling that you
are about to be dragged under, to wonder briefly if your wristwatch really
is Water Resistant before being consumed by uncaring nature. The climaxes
are magnificent however, and there are no real complaints to be heard from
me.
Katherine Bryan’s limpid flute solo in Prélude à l’après-midi
d’une faune deserves a mention - every flautist’s dream moment.
The beautifully rounded horn sound and everything else is also gorgeously
sumptuous. This is of course one of Debussy’s sexiest scores, and the
shimmering summer heat is beautifully portrayed, the effulgent scenario laid
out with remarkable succulence. The Marche écossaise sur un thème
populaire is something of a filler and gets a nice airing here. Printemps
is a far more substantial addition, though with plenty of that earlier salon-style
melodic facility which helped Debussy keep his head above water. This is however
the first of his works to which the term ‘impressionism’ was applied,
and the moods and orchestral sonorities are tinted with some remarkable colours
and effects. This makes Printemps dangerously modern for its time,
though this is hard to imagine that kind of opinion today with the RSNO’s
rich string tones and lyrical fluidity.
The revised movements from Debussy’s early prizewinning cantata L’Enfant
prodigue are closer to contemporary convention, but still manage to convey
a strong pictorial sense, pre-echoing the composer’s responses to nature
and poetry. Both this and the final Berceuse héroïque are
produced with the same attention to detail as every other score in this collection.
This final track is by no means a pompous celebration of heroism, but is in
fact a rather quiet wartime “tribute to the Belgian King and People”
which includes quotations from the national anthem ‘La Brabançonne’.
This double SACD set has been packaged in a slimline cardboard box which further
houses a substantial booklet with full notes on each piece in English, German
and French. The SACD production is superb, as much for the luxuriant and sonic
fidelity as for the 5.0 spread of sound, which at times develops astounding
acuteness. Debussy’s orchestration and musical imagination is something
which responds very well indeed to this treatment, and this is one collection
in which you can bathe from beginning to end without having to change the
bathwater. I’m not going to be critical in this regard, but some may
see this collection as lacking in that last ounce of Gallic verve, the kind
of edgy sense of near-anarchy which some older recordings can convey. The
standard of playing and the layering of orchestral colours and harmonies are
unsurpassed, and I will take this kind of playing, which does have its own
character, over the inspired liabilities of numerous older recordings, classic
status or no. To my ears this has been approached in the same way as baking
cakes: that kind of cooking which demands carefully weighed and sifted alchemy
to succeed. You may not want to be eating cake every day but the results here
are delicious - moist and with great depth of flavour; not too sweet, and
a feast for every sense - we’ll be keeping Mr Denève’s
number and ordering more when the time comes.
Dominy Clements
Sumptuous sonic bathing: thrillingly superb.
Masterwork Index: La Mer