Once upon a time - this is a fairy story, after all - there was a symphonic
suite called Scheherazade which formed a basic showpiece in the
repertory of every international orchestra. They all recorded it and they
all performed it. Nowadays it seems to have fallen on hard times, in the
concert hall at least, but it still makes a very respectable showing on
disc – there are 137 versions currently listed on Archiv – and it still
remains a real technical tour de force for orchestras around the
world. The St Petersburg players have this music saturated into the very
marrow of their bones, and this performance clearly demonstrates that fact.
Time and time again there are felicities of phrasing and expression which
make listeners prick up their ears. Temirkanov indulges himself with rubato
in every phrase that will stand it - to often beautiful effect. The players
are with him to a man. At the same time he knows precisely when to get out
of the way and let the individual instrumentalists have their heads. The
internal balances within the orchestra are perfect with a natural instinct
that can only come from intimate acquaintance with every facet of the work.
The recorded balance, set slightly back in a resonant hall, is natural without
any hint of spotlighting.
In fact one could have done with a marginal amount of spotlighting from
the microphone on the solo violin. Its figurations sometimes disappear beneath
the accompaniment in a manner which would be expected in the concert hall
– where the physical presence of the soloist would lend him or her prominence
– but which needs slight assistance in a purely audio production. In fact
the violin soloist is stinted even more in the presentation, which nowhere
discloses his or her identity: grossly unfair given this beautifully expressive
performance. It is not until the end of the last movement, when audience
applause suddenly erupts, that one is even aware that this is a recording
of a concert performance. This makes the sheer technical perfection throughout
all the more admirable.
Scheherazade is preceded by another Rimsky-Korsakov showpiece in
the shape of three movements from his opera The invisible city of Kitezh.
You will note the ominous phrase “three movements”. For some totally inexplicable
reason the fourth movement of the orchestral suite is missing here. The
result is that the music tails away unconvincingly at the end of a rousing
performance of the Battle of Kershenets movement with its galloping
Tartar horsemen. This then leads, with rather a short pause, straight into
the opening of Scheherazade. This is even more regrettable because
what we do have here is superbly well done, with the opening Paean to
the Wilderness phrased with real affection and feeling. This quite
transforms this already very beautiful music. What on earth happened to
the last movement? There would have been plenty of room for it on the disc.
So only modified rapture, then – but nonetheless this Scheherazade
is absolutely marvellous, one of the best available. If you think you have
heard the score so often that it has become jaded, this is a recordingto
make you think again. Temirkanov holds the symphonic form together – with
the theme of the Sultan transforming into that of Sinbad – with
a real appreciation of the sheer technical expertise that Rimsky-Korsakov
brought to this marvellous score.
Paul Corfield Godfrey
This Scheherazade is absolutely marvellous, one of the best available.
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