Carl ORFF (1895-1982)
Carmina Burana (1935) [63:40]
Yeree Suh (soprano)
Yves Saelens (tenor)
Thomas Bauer (baritone)
Collegium Vocale Gent
Cantate Domino/David De Geest
Anima Eterna Brugge/Jos van Immerseel
rec. live, 19-20 February 2014, Concertgebouw Brugge, Belgium
Reviewed as a 24/96 Studio Master from Qobuz
Pdf booklet with sung texts and translations
ZIG-ZAG TERRITOIRES ZZT353 [63:40]
Time to 'fess up, I actually like Carmina Burana; having
recently reacquainted myself with Antal Doráti’s version
– produced by the great Kenneth Wilkinson – I’m happy
to admit to liking the piece even more. Ubiquity has done Carmina
Burana no favours, and too many dull recordings haven’t helped.
Among the latter are very disappointing performances from Richard
Hickox and Paavo
Järvi. The good news is that the catalogue is crammed with good 'uns,
among them Jochum’s
classic DG version and Blomstedt’s San Francisco one (Decca
Universal).
Given that there are so many good Carmina Buranas about, do we
really need another one? Well, yes, especially if it casts new light on
a work whose gentler virtues are often subsumed by big, pile-driving performances.
The Belgian conductor Jos van Immerseel and Anima Eterna already have
a reputation for reinvigorating familiar repertoire, including Berlioz’s
Symphonie
fantastique and the waltzes, polkas and overtures of Johann
Strauss. Such reappraisals court controversy, but there’s no
doubting the care and enthusiasm that has gone into these recordings.
That’s evident in the Immerseel interview reproduced in the booklet,
where he speaks candidly about his admiration for Carmina Burana,
and his desire to present it in a way that distinguishes it from its loud,
boisterous predecessors. To that end Anima Eterna play on pre-war instruments
and the choral forces – 36 singers in all – are much smaller
than usual. It doesn’t stop there, for Immerseel’s choice
of soloists reflects his view of how they – and the work as a whole
– should sound. The impressive 64-page booklet, meticulously annotated,
puts the finishing touches to what is a carefully considered and very
well planned package.
So, how does it sound? In a word, revelatory. Those who feel reduced forces
can only result in a strained-through-the-sheets performance will be pleasantly
surprised by the taut, crisply accented account of the work’s opening
invocation. There’s no lack of weight here, and the oriental-sounding
gong adds a dash of spice to the proceedings. The bass drum and percussion
– powerful but not overpowering – are simply sensational,
and the spacious, detailed recording captures that elusive sense of a
live event. Apart from a few minor stage noises there are no audible compromises
and the audience is commendably silent.
Even at this stage it’s clear we’re in for a treat. Orff’s
instrumental colours have seldom glowed with such lustre, or his rhythms
seemed so infectious. The singing is just as remarkable, for what the
choruses may lack in sheer numbers they more than make up for in fine
articulation and a rare sensitivity to the texts. According to Immerseel
he wanted just the right Bavarian accents, which confirms yet again how
thoroughly this project has been planned and executed. Veris leta
facies is startling in its tactility and the nicely distanced chorus
sing with real feeling. The simple, punctuating accompaniment has never
sounded so discreet yet so vividly resonant.
Baritone Thomas Bauer’s Omnia sol temperat is delivered
with real sincerity, and that reminds us these are living, breathing characters
with itches to scratch, and not larger-than-life caricatures. Indeed,
everything about this performance is perfectly scaled, and the benefits
in terms of insight and enjoyment are immense. Some may quibble that the
pauses between numbers are too long – so many conductors seem impatient
to push ahead – but that too reminds us that this is a collection
of contrasting pieces that deserve to be heard - and savoured - in their
own good time.
Ecce gratum isn’t as lusty as some, but that hardly matters
given this degree of detail and transparency of texture. These qualities
also shine through in the dance from Uf dem Anger, which has
pleasing athleticism and shape. By contrast Floret silva nobilis
is sedate in a way that underlines the oft-hidden elegance - courtliness,
even - of this finely crafted pastiche. What a thrill it is to hear this
music delivered with such poise, and how perfectly it encapsulates the
affectionate, all-revealing character of Immerseel's remarkable conception.
Hearing Carmina Burana done this way makes many rivals seem crude
and breathless by comparison. Chramer, gip die varwe mir is sung
in the freshest of tones and its slow, dragging accompaniment is a delight;
the round dance that follows has added gravitas. Goodness, this performance
is full of surprises, not least in the delicious thrust and parry of Swaz
hie gat umbe, where individual voices are easily heard. This part
of Carmina Burana ends with a spirited account of Were diu
werlt alle min which, despite its smaller scale, has plenty
of weight and amplitude. Anima Eterna’s brass and percussion players,
whose individual presence is easier to discern here than it is in heftier
recordings, are heroic throughout.
In taberna gets under way with Bauer’s ardent Estuans
interius. His isn’t a particularly big voice or the most steady,
but it’s imaginatively used. Tenor Yves Saelens does a fine roasted
swan, and he copes well with the taxing tessitura the solo demands; he
certainly doesn’t go for the strained falsetto, as some do. Once
again the instrumental backing emerges with extra tizz and tingle. Perhaps
the chorus could have been a bit more incisive at this point, but they
make up for any reticence with a deft rendition of In taberna
quando sumus; the latter is seasoned with a magnificently controlled
bass drum and dashes of that piquant gong.
Cours d’amours opens with a rather measuredaccount of Amor
volat undique in which the clear, atmospheric boys’ voices
make a telling contrast with soprano Yeree Suh’s very unusual solo.
She doesn't warble so much as coo, an effect that's not as odd or contrived
as it may seem. Hers isn’t a large voice either, but it has all
the range and sustaining power that the role demands. Bauer’s Dies,
nox et omnia is even more accomplished, for it has a quiet, very
personal intensity that fits well with the more introspective nature of
this performance; ditto Suh’s Stetit puella, whose high
notes display astonishing precision and purity.
Immerseel keeps it all moving nicely, with no loss of focus or direction.
Those used to a bigger, more robust choral sound may feel this section
is a tad underpowered, although the benefits of greater transparency are
felt in moments of unexpected engagement and sudden shafts of loveliness.
Take the three tenors who sing in Si puer cum puellula;
so often they sound corporate, anonymous, but here they come across as
a genuine, very spontaneous threesome. There’s a heightened sense
of flirtation here, as the men and women circleeach other in suggestive
celebration. Suh’s In trutina is simply ravishing and she
sounds suitably ravished in Dulcissime. Even after that, when
lesser men are wont to droop, Immerseel goads and energises his players
to a truly rousing finale. That cheeky gong adds its voice to the tumult.
Occasionally a recording comes along that compels one to hear a familiar
work with new ears. Robin
Ticciati’s Symphonie fantastique is one, and this Carmina
Burana is another. Trouble is, these newcomers make it all but impossible
to revisit long-established favourites. Immerseel’s Carmina
Burana certainly won’t please everyone, but its approachable
scale and abundance of insights might just convert a few non-believers.
Carmina Burana as you’ve never heard it before; a triumph
for all concerned.
Dan Morgan
twitter.com/mahlerei
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