In my survey
of the recordings of
The Dream of Gerontius I made a passing reference to
this recording, which I have not previously heard. It has been issued
before on LP and I have a recollection of seeing a review many years
ago in Gramophone, though I cannot recall the content of
that review. I’m not sure if the recording has ever appeared
on CD but here it is now, issued as part of the celebrations of fifty
years of the Melodiya label.
Not long after the problematic première of Gerontius in Birmingham
in 1900 the work achieved much more of a success in Germany. However,
it had to wait over eighty years for a hearing in Russia; the performance
preserved here was the Russian première. I think Melodiya have missed
a trick with their documentation: it would have been fascinating to
know more about how Yevgeny Svetlanov came to the work and how the
performance itself, with imported British singers, was brought about.
Instead, all we are told in the booklet is that Svetlanov, “an
inspired interpreter of Elgar’s music, who first heard The
Dream of Gerontius in Britain, was absolutely amazed and set
a goal of showing it in his home land.”
I’m bound to say that I had not previously associated Svetlanov
with Elgar’s music though some internet research led me to a
live 1977 recording by him in which he conducts the same orchestra
in the Second Symphony and Sea Pictures sung in Russian by
Larissa Avdeyeva (Scribendum SC 032). I see from his obituary in the
Daily Telegraph that he conducted Gerontius in London
with the Philharmonia in 1985.
Svetlanov imported British singers for this Moscow performance and
I think he was wise to do so. The text of Gerontius doesn’t
always flow easily off the tongue and I’m not sure how successful
Russian singers would have been. His colleague, Gennady Rozhdestvensky
used Russian singers when performing Sea Symphony by Vaughan
Williams in 1988 and the results were not too convincing (review).
Svetlanov had the benefit of the LSO Chorus, trained by Richard Hickox
as well as two of the three soloists, Arthur Davies and Felicity Palmer,
who would later sing in Hickox’s own 1988 recording for Chandos
(review).
For most people the decision whether or not to invest in the recording
will depend primarily on the conducting of Svetlanov but first we
must consider the singing. Arthur Davies is a ringing, full-throated
Gerontius. You won’t find here the nuances that some other tenors
have brought to the role but allowances have to be made for the fact
that he was projecting into what I imagine is a fairly large hall.
His account of ‘Sanctus, fortis’ is impassioned and a
slight error over the words doesn’t derail his performance.
At times in his dialogue with the Angel he doesn’t exhibit as
much feeling for the words as I’d like but, as we shall see,
I rather think the fault there lies with the conductor. ‘Take
me away’ begins ardently and the remainder of that solo is well
done. Davies is good overall but I think he’s heard to better
advantage under studio conditions in the Hickox recording.
I believe I’m right in saying that Felicity Palmer sang as a
soprano until around 1983; this, therefore, may have been one of her
first performances of The Angel. There’s a good deal to admire
in this performance and while the Hickox recording, made five years
later, perhaps shows the benefit of greater familiarity with the role
there’s a freshness in her approach here that is very appealing.
She sings the Angel’s Farewell very convincingly and throughout
her performance she exhibits fine feeling for the words. Her singing
at ‘A presage falls upon thee’ is especially heartfelt
and I love the way that, a few moments later, she inflects the words
at ‘That calm and joy uprising in thy soul’. Palmer is
the pick of the soloists. Norman Bailey is an imposing presence as
The Priest and offers commanding singing as The Angel of the Agony.
So far as I’m aware Bailey never took part in a commercial recording
of Gerontius.
The London Symphony Chorus are here splendid ambassadors for British
choral singing. Their singing evidences great familiarity with the
music and I hope the Russian audience was seriously impressed: they
should have been. What impressed me more than anything else was the
choir’s attention to dynamics. Consistently they sing what Elgar
asks but let me give two examples which particularly caught my attention.
The first is in the great chorus ‘Praise to the Holiest’.
Here the choir makes a tremendous sound in the opening outburst and
they match that achievement when Elgar reprises the music. That’s
not so remarkable; most choirs can do that. What most choirs cannot
do, however, is match the LSO Chorus’ soft singing in the 6/4
passage that follows the opening paean. Here most of the dynamics
are no louder than mp and often much quieter than that. Having
followed in my score, I can attest that the LSO Chorus observes scrupulously
every single one of Elgar’s copious markings and, my goodness,
it makes a difference. In some accounts of this chorus it can seem
as if Elgar rather ran out of creative steam after the exultant opening
but that’s not the case here. I’m sure that Richard Hickox
must deserve some of the credit for training them so well but two
things incline me to give even more of the credit to Svetlanov. One
is that the orchestra is equally responsive to the dynamics; the other
is that on his own Chandos recording Hickox gets the LSO Chorus to
observe the dynamics well in this passage – but not as completely
as they did in Moscow. The other passage where the dynamics are exemplary
is immediately after The Angel of the Agony has sung (cue 115 in the
vocal score). The choir is instructed to sing ppp and that’s
exactly what is heard here. To achieve this in a studio recording
would be pretty impressive but in a live performance it’s even
better. By insisting on observance of Elgar’s dynamics in this
passage Svetlanov achieves a real sense of awed stillness.
Would that he had been so imaginative and accurate elsewhere in the
score. Sadly, the conducting is uneven, not least in terms of tempo
selection. The Prelude is very spacious indeed: I thought that Hickox
was broad (review)
but Svetlanov, who takes 11:09, is nearly a full minute longer. The
metronome mark at the start is 60 crotchets to the minute but Svetlanov’s
pace is around 40 crotchets per minute. From this initially lethargic
speed flow the remaining tempi in the Prelude, all of them too slow.
The Prelude to Part II fares even worse. The speed that Svetlanov
adopts is significantly lower than Elgar marks and though his strings
do well for him it’s all too drawn out. The material from the
Prelude is revisited more than once during the tenor solos that follow
but Svetlanov is inconsistent because he doesn’t revert to his
original speed – thank goodness. It’s hard to avoid the
feeling of misplaced piety in these Preludes.
In contrast, the pace that Svetlanov adopts for ‘Sanctus fortis’
is quite bracing, though not excessively so. What troubles me in this
episode is not the speed itself but that Svetlanov doesn’t vary
the pace more often. I listened in vain for many of the small nuances
of tempo that a conductor more versed in the idiom might have made.
In Part II, during the dialogue between the Soul of Gerontius and
the Angel, there are several instances – especially the sections
in 5/8 time – where Svetlanov presses ahead unyieldingly. In
so doing he obliges his singer, usually the tenor, to sing the words
too quickly to enable them to be invested with any meaning. In these
stretches of Part II in particular I wondered just how well Svetlanov
understood the import of the English words, which aren’t exactly
straightforward even to an English speaker. Against these less than
convincing aspects, however, we must set many positives. The Demon’s
Chorus is fast and exciting – though I think the fugal episode
‘Dispossessed, Aside thrust’, is a bit too brisk and even
the LSO Chorus sounds a bit gabbled here. The very end of Part I (from
cue 75), though taken slowly, is very beautiful. I’ve already
mentioned Svetlanov’s fine handling of ‘Praise to the
Holiest’ and the Farewell is also done very well indeed. In
these closing pages Svetlanov once again ensures that everyone is
attentive to the dynamics. Felicity Palmer sings this last solo very
expressively and the conductor shapes the ensemble with no little
feeling, though the last ‘Amen’ is very long indeed.
It’s clear from everything he does that Svetlanov’s admiration
for the score and his desire to conduct it in Russia was very genuine.
The USSR State Symphony Orchestra plays well, if not flawlessly, for
him though an orchestra such as the LSO would have brought not just
more incisiveness and polish to the score but also more in the way
of idiomatic understanding of its finer points. It’s interesting
to hear characteristic Russian brass sounds – bright trumpets
and vibrato-rich horns – in this music. All in all, the first
performance of this great score in Russia was a worthy one.
The recorded sound is satisfactory for a live performance that is
more than thirty years old but quite a bit of orchestral detail is
unclear and there’s a tendency for the choral sound to regress
in loud passages, perhaps as the engineers sought to control the peak
signals. The booklet essay – in Russian with English and French
translations - is a basic introduction to the work but goodness knows
what Russian listeners in particular are expected to make of the work
when no texts or translations are provided. One aspect of the presentation
is unpardonably sloppy. Twice there are glaring gaps in the music,
each lasting for seven or eight seconds. One occurs in Part II after
‘Praise to the Holiest’; the other, which is even more
damaging, occurs part way through ‘Sanctus, fortis’ at
cue 53 in the vocal score. No music is lost but the gaps are very
disconcerting and the flow of the music is completely compromised.
The only explanation I can think of is that these breaks correspond
with side changes on the original LP issue. It’s unforgivable
that Melodiya haven’t made a better job of the transfer; these
gaps could so easily have been corrected.
This recording can never be a first choice but, despite its flaws
it’s an interesting addition to the discography of The Dream
of Gerontius. It’s also a valuable document, illustrating
an unexpected side to this Russian conductor who could be volatile
but, at his best, inspirational.
John
Quinn
Footnote
Since writing this review Edward Johnson has kindly sent me some interesting
information. He has the original Melodiya LP issue of Svetlanov’s
Gerontius and the notes which accompanied that LP release include
comments from Svetlanov himself. The great Russian conductor recalls
attending a performance of Gerontius in London: “I dreamed of
performing the oratorio with which I acquainted myself in the 60s.
The first impression was so strong that I shall always remember all
the details of that amazing performance in the 6000-seat Albert hall
under the unforgettable Sir Malcolm Sargent.” Svetlanov goes
on to relate that in 1981 his dream came true and he conducted Gerontius
twice in the Festival Hall with the LSO and LSO Chorus and English
soloists. He says “That for me was a serious test for the performance
of this work is a privilege of only English musicians.”
Those London performances were followed by the Russian premiere, preserved
on this Melodiya recording. It would seem clear from these comments
that Svetlanov himself brought about the Russian premiere of the work.
If Melodiya had thought to reproduce the LP notes with the CD then
Svetlanov’s initiative in bringing Elgar’s music to the
USSR would hev been readily apparent.
Mr Johnson also confirmed a suspicion I voiced in my review: “As
to the “gaps” that John Quinn refers to, I’ve just
checked these and they occur at the places where there were side-breaks
on the original LPs (see also attached). Clearly the Melodiya engineers
should have realised this was a continuous live performance and joined
up the tapes of the four LP sides accordingly. Not to have done so
was very sloppy and unforgiveable.”
Another review ...
This was an important historical occasion, being the Russian premiere
of Elgar’s masterpiece at the behest of Svetlanov, who loved
the work. Presumably he became familiar with it during his tenure
as Principal Guest Conductor of the LSO after his appointment in 1979.
Interestingly, for all the success of this performance, his recording
in the late 1970s of the Second Symphony and Sea Pictures was a crude
and ill-conceived affair; this “Gerontius”, a couple of
years later in 1981, is very different.
There has been some criticism of his tempi as eccentric, yet overall
the timings are very similar to other celebrated recordings by Barbirolli,
Boult and Hickox. Incidentally, the latter is the choir director here,
and a very good one, too. The only faster recording I know of is Sir
Mark Elder’s recent one with the Hallé. There are a few moments
where Svetlanov’s approach is noticeably extreme, especially
the very leisurely Prelude, which some find too drawn out at 11:09,
but I hear it as played with a grand, imposing sweep. Conversely,
the “Sanctus fortis” is too hectic for some listeners
but again, for me, aptly conveys the drama of the moment. Indeed,
I have no interpretative quarrel with Svetlanov’s performance;
he clearly loves the piece and brings terrific impact to key points
such as the thrilling choral outburst on “Praise to the Holiest”
and the deeply moving “Take me away”.
The soloists are first rate, if not perfect. Not everyone responds
to the distinctive, tangy timbre of Felicity Palmer’s mezzo-soprano
but I love it. It is useful that her voice is so different from that
of Janet Baker in her definitive recordings that invidious comparisons
may largely be avoided. She is meltingly tender and intensely radiant
by turns, despite some harshness in her loudest, highest notes. Norman
Bailey is a grand Priest and a stentorian Angel, bringing a touch
of Wotan to the proceedings. He is mostly very steady and secure except
for a slightly rough first entry on the exposed “Proficiscere”.
Arthur Davies was a famous Gerontius and although his habit of applying
too many expressive “coups de glotte” can become mildly
irksome, he has an easy, rousing top B flat at his disposal and sings
most expressively. By the time he made his studio recording for Hickox,
however, he had somewhat tamed the lachrymose mannerisms more obvious
here in this live performance.
Given that the sound here is perfectly full and well balanced for
an analogue recording from the early 1980s and the standard of performance
is so high, what prevents me from giving this an unqualified endorsement?
In a word, the coughing; the incessant hacking from the Moscow audience
is very distracting, and they save their most percussive bronchial
intrusions for the quietest moments, such as the choir’s lovely
“O Holy Mary, pray for me”, the gently rocking introduction
to “I went to sleep” (if only) and the sublime last movement.
Sad reviewer that I am, I counted over eighty instances which cumulatively
belie the reputation of Russian audiences for appreciative attentiveness.
So for all its artistic merits and historical significance, this cannot
displace either the classic or more recent recordings. There are,
in addition, several odd technical flaws in the recording: noticeable
fades between tracks 3 and 4 on CD 1, and again on CD 2 in track 5
and two minutes into track 2. I continue to applaud the attractiveness
of the packaging of Melodiya’s recent issues; the neat, fold-out
cardboard slipcases are strikingly designed and I like the retro LP-style
CD. However, while notes and track-listings in Russian and English
are provided, no English text is included.
Ralph Moore
Further footnote
The following recollections of singing in the Russian premiere of
The Dream of Gerontius come from Clive Marks, who took part in the
performance conducted by Yevgeny Svetlanov and issued on this Melodiya
recording. Clive was a full-time member of the London Symphony Chorus
between 1982 and 1985 and then continued with the Chorus as an extra
member until 2008. We’re most grateful to him for agreeing that
his recollections could be published on MusicWeb
“At the first rehearsal, Svetlanov started with the Prelude
and the choir were stunned with the attention to detail which the
orchestra was observing. As soon as Svetlanov stopped to make some
comment to the orchestra, the whole chorus burst into applause and
that set the tone of respect for the rest of the week. As this was
the Russian premiere of Elgar's masterpiece, the sound of this music
would have been unusual to a Russian ear but Svetlanov's slow tempo
throughout the Prelude would have allowed the audience time to become
accustomed to this new style of music. Even during breaks in six hours
of daily rehearsal, the sections of the orchestra would disappear
to work on exacting Elgar's detailed markings. With such dedication
by the orchestra, we had to do our best to surpass their efforts.
As you stated, we were ambassadors for British musicianship.
When it came to the performance, the stage setting was unusual for
us. The orchestra was assembled on stage and the leader had been applauded
to his position. The hall then fell into silence for our arrival on
stage. The first member of the choir to step on stage happened to
be me, as I was in the middle of the back row, and the audience continued
applauding until we were all on stage. No pressure to do anything
but give the performance of our lives!
When it came to the ascending chords, just before "Take me away",
I caught sight of a lady sitting about ten rows back. Now, bear in
mind that there had been State-atheism for almost 70 years; the programme
notes had removed any mention of God, a particularly clever piece
of editorial control, and there was no libretto in the programme.
As the chords progressed, I watched that lady's face contort (even
now, this is making my throat tighten) until that great crashing chord
caused her eyes to burst with tears. The power of Elgar's music had
defeated the ideological efforts of communism. WOW!
The next night we did the second performance to equal acclaim and
then the following night we gave the Russian premieres of Brucker's
E-Minor Mass and Walton's Belshazzar's Feast, conducted by Richard
Hickox. We had to encore the Belshazzar and the ovation for it lasted
23 minutes. I think that the audience liked it. After that, we all
went out for one heck of a party with the orchestra, with much vodka
being shared, resulting in about two hours of sleep before we had
to head home.
So there you are with a bit of an insight to the events around that
Gerontius recording. I have never been able to listen to it all the
way through as it is far too emotional for me. Perhaps I should try
again, when I am home alone.”
