I have heard and greatly enjoyed two Brahms discs
conducted by Robin Ticciati on the Tudor label (
choral
works &
Serenade 1 and the Haydn variations). However, I have not caught
up with his recording of the
Symphonie fantastique with the Scottish
Chamber Orchestra, which was greeted with great enthusiasm by
Dan
Morgan and
Simon
Thompson. I was keen to make up for lost time, therefore, when this
new Berlioz disc arrived for review.
Often when reviewing a disc one leaves the verdict until the end. There
are times, however, when there’s no point in prevaricating; one
may as well nail one’s colours to the mast at once. This is one
such occasion: this is an outstanding disc. I’ve heard many very
fine accounts of Berlioz’s ravishing song-cycle and there are
certain ‘market leaders’, among which the classic accounts
by Régine Crespin and Dame Janet Baker would warrant the first
mentions. However, even if Karen Cargill may not quite challenge the
supremacy of those two great singers, this recording of
Les nuits
d’été is one that made me listen with fresh
ears.
Miss Cargill sings very well indeed both here and in
La mort de Cléopâtre,
matching her tone to the varying demands of the music with great intelligence
and deploying a fine range of vocal colours. I wasn’t entirely
convinced by her French pronunciation at times but this is not a major
issue. What gives this performance of
Les nuits d’été
its special character is the sound of the orchestra. One is used to
hearing the work played by a full symphony orchestra. Here, however,
the SCO fields a string section that numbers 8/6/4/4/2. That means that
the wind and brass parts come through very naturally and easily and
that there’s a delightful transparency to the orchestral textures
at all times. One has heard revelatory accounts of Berlioz involving
period instruments under the batons of conductors such as Sir John Eliot
Gardiner and Paul McCreesh (
review)
but here Robin Ticciati reminds us triumphantly, just as the late Sir
Colin Davis did, that a well-balanced skilful orchestra playing on modern
instruments can do just as much justice to the subtle, original timbres
of Berlioz’s orchestration.
So, for example, ‘Villanelle’ is as light and buoyant as
you could wish. The orchestral sound is light on its feet and delicate
and Karen Cargill’s timbre is delightful. ‘Le spectre de
la rose’ is wonderfully languid at the start and at its conclusion
- and how right Julian Rushton is to point out in his excellent notes
the comparison with the
Scène d’amour which we are
to hear later. In this second song Miss Cargill’s singing is sensuous
and expressive and at “Et j’arrive du paradis” she
unleashes passionate tone, which is just right. At the start of ‘Sur
les lagunes’ I love the grainy string tone that Ticciati gets
his players to produce; it really catches the ear as do the arresting
interjections of the hand-stopped horns in the second verse. Karen Cargill’s
singing is vivid and ardent. It is, perhaps, in ‘Absence’
that the benefits of using small orchestral forces are most conspicuously
reaped. There’s a wonderful sense of intimacy about the performance
of this exquisite song which I can’t readily recall that I’ve
heard equalled. I could mention comparable delights in the remaining
two songs but I hope that by now I’ve said enough to convince
you that however many recordings of these great songs you possess you
must hear this one as well.
Ever since I had the chance to take part in a performance of it as a
member of my university’s orchestra over forty years ago I’ve
loved the
Scène d’amour from
Roméo et
Juliette. In those days I hadn’t really got the Berlioz ‘bug’
- that came later - but it remains a firm personal favourite among his
music. As with
Les nuits d’été I have some
fine performances of this piece in my collection, including several
as part of the complete score, yet I found this newcomer something of
a revelation. Here, more than in
Les nuits d’été
the listener is, perhaps, more likely to miss the presence of a normal-sized
symphony orchestra string section. However, if you are willing to forego
a rich carpet of string tone - and I suggest that you should - the rewards
are great. Once again, it’s the intimacy and the transparency
of the textures that make the performance so beguiling. Right at the
start, Ticciati and his players evoke beautifully the impression of
a garden on a warm, sultry night. The scale of the orchestral sound
suggests to us that this is a
small, walled garden. Throughout
this performance the textures are clear and one can relish the subtlety
of Berlioz’s orchestral imaginings. There’s interpretative
imagination at work here, too, as we can hear, for example, in the delivery
of those cello recitative passages just before that wonderful extended
melody for flute and cor anglais begins (at 6:51). That tune is unfolded
in a very convincing way. Ticciati is properly expressive but he keeps
the music moving forward most persuasively. Other conductors have taken
this melody at a broader pace but Ticciati’s pacing reminds us
that this piece is about a pair of
young lovers. This performance
of the
Scène d’amour, often gossamer-light, is an
incandescent one.
The programme is completed by a performance of
La mort de Cléopâtre,
which Berlioz composed in 1829 as his entry for the competition for
the Prix de Rome. He was unsuccessful and, listening to this performance
it’s not hard to see why for the music must have seemed outlandish
and gratuitously radical to the conservatively-minded judges. I was
impressed by Karen Cargill’s performance. She’s vividly
dramatic at the very start - at which point the orchestral sounds are
equally arresting. Later on in the first part, the
Scène Lyrique,
the passage beginning at “Actium m’a livrée”
is full of bite and towards the end of the
Scène Lyrique
she fairly spits out the words “C’est par moi qu’aux
Romains l’Égypte est asservie”. The second section,
Méditation, begins with funereal timbres, superbly sounded in
the orchestra and then soloist and orchestra excel in the dark music
that follows. It’s not long, however, that Berlioz’s music
rises in passion and dramatic force and Miss Cargill is blazingly intense
in her delivery as she and Ticciati drive the music through its searingly
dramatic final pages.
This is an outstanding disc and the performances have been captured
in the sort of demonstration-quality sound for which Linn is well known.
Engineer/producer Philip Hobbs has done a superb job. As I indicated
earlier, the accompanying notes are very good indeed.
In summary, all Berlioz collectors should investigate this disc. As
for me, I’m off to acquire a copy of Ticciati’s recording
of
Symphonie Fantastique without further delay.
John Quinn
CKD
421 [65:48] 
