Not another 
Pictures, I hear you groan, 
          and the ubiquitous Ravel orchestration too? If nothing else it’s 
          one of those blockbusters that seldom fails to entertain; throw in the 
          original version of Mussorgsky’s 
Night on a Bare Mountain 
          and Shostakovich’s take on the 
Songs and Dances of Death 
          and this promises to be a collection to remember. Oh, and there’s 
          Valery Gergiev and his Mariinsky Orchestra as well; their latest recordings 
          – including Shchedrin’s 
The Left-Hander – 
          are now available to download from Hyperion's website.
  
          I’m so used to seeing this maestro looking a little crumpled, 
          having shuttled in on a red-eye just hours before the concert. All too 
          often his hectic schedule produces performances that are somewhat lacking, 
          but when he’s on form Gergiev is well worth hearing. Of his Mariinsky 
          recordings I was much impressed by his explosive account of Shostakovich’s 
          
The 
          Nose and 
Leningrad 
          Symphony. The recordings are generally good, if not class-leading. 
          This is a Classic Sound production, although I gather that their relationship 
          with the Mariinsky may be at or near its end.
  
          Gergiev’s 
Pictures – which he also recorded with 
          the Wiener Philharmoniker some years back – seems unusually refined. 
          Not only that, the conductor is very relaxed as well; his rather dreamy 
          account of 
The Old Castle is a case in point. That’s 
          not ideal in the highly pointed 
Tuileries, but the level of 
          colour and detail makes up for that. It’s only when we get to 
          that lumbering oxcart, 
Bydlo, that it all starts to sound more 
          efficient than exciting. I have long admired Lorin Maazel’s Cleveland 
          
Pictures on Telarc; his 
Bydlo looms far larger than 
          this, and his gripping, often febrile approach to the work as a whole 
          is infinitely preferable to either of Gergiev’s.
  
  That said, the Mariinsky Orchestra play well and the recording is good. One could argue – with some justification – that Telarc turned the Maazel recording into a hi-fi spectacular, but in spite of that musical values are still paramount. Moreover, the Cleveland Orchestra outshine their Austrian and Russian counterparts when it comes to vim and virtuosity. At least Maazel isn’t part of the soundtrack; Gergiev’s vocal exertions during 
The Marketplace at Limoges are very intrusive indeed. As for the latter’s 
Catacombs they’re notably lacking in atmosphere; ditto 
Cum mortuis, which has a self-indulgent, rather gilded quality that I don’t care for at all.
  
          Predictably, perhaps, Gergiev turns up the wick for the final numbers; 
          
Baba-Yaga certainly has an element of excitement, but for reasons 
          I can’t quite fathom it isn’t as arresting as it should 
          be. Even 
The Great Gate of Kiev, the highpoint of Maazel’s 
          account – and, indeed, that of Eduardo Mata and his Dallas band 
          on RCA/Sony – seems rather lacking in scale and grandeur. Good 
          as the Mariinsky recording is it’s not that much of an advance 
          on either the RCA/Sony or Telarc ones. That’s a side issue, I 
          suppose, for it’s the performance that really matters; alas, that 
          just isn’t up to snuff either.
  
          What of the 
Songs and Dances of Death, presented here in Shostakovich’s 
          austere orchestration? Gergiev has recorded this before as well, with 
          the youthful-sounding Dmitri Hvorostovsky. Furlanetto’s 
Lullaby 
          is lovingly voiced, although he is apt to over-emote at key points. 
          Even so, he’s a model of restraint compared with Evgeny Nestorenko 
          in his Melodiya recording with pianist Vladimir Krainev. That said, 
          his quiet singing is pleasing enough. Again, I’m less than convinced 
          by Gergiev’s contribution, which seems almost perfunctory at times; 
          that’s particularly true of his unyielding 
Serenade. 
          In 
Trepak and 
The Field Marshal Furlanetto is dutiful 
          rather than idiomatic – his Russian is rather soft-edged – 
          but he does have a pleasing line.
  
          It may be something of a curiosity, but the original, warts-and-all 
          version of 
Night on a Bare Mountain - rather than Rimsky's 
          more polished one - is always worth a listen. My preferred recording 
          of this is Abbado's on DG; he also offers a rather bright but strongly 
          characterised set of 
Pictures and some rare choral fillers. 
          By comparison Gergiev lacks animation and colour; in short it's another 
          tidy but anodyne outing. All three works are well represented in the 
          catalogue, so this newcomer needed to be rather special to challenge 
          the best of them. Alas, it isn’t and it doesn’t.
          
          These performances burn with a low flame; even Gergiev groupies are 
          likely to be disappointed.
          
  
Dan Morgan
           twitter.com/mahlerei
          
  Previous review: 
Simon Thompson