Camille SAINT-SAÉNS (1835-1921)
Symphony in F (Urbs Roma) (1856) [41:40]
La jeunesse d'Hercule, Op. 50 (1877) [18:27]
Danse macabre, Op. 40 (1874) [7:18]
Malmö Symphony Orchestra/Marc Soustrot
rec. 2013, Malmö Concert Hall, Sweden
NAXOS 8.573140 [67:25]
Saint-Saëns wrote the Urbs Roma Symphony for a Bordeaux competition, which perhaps explains why, although it followed his First Symphony by a few years, it isn't part of his numbered canon. The score won the competition, though it's not immediately clear why: it includes some beautiful music, but some clumsy, repetitive parts as well.
The first movement begins impressively, to be sure, with tutti punctuations and a full-throated brass choir; the main Allegro is busy, while the second group is spacious and fervent. The dramatic gestures and vivid orchestral colours hold interest, but it all doesn't really amount to much. The second movement, a bustling, moto perpetuo scherzo, suggests a more elegantly manicured Mendelssohn. In the third movement, the composer rather hammers several short rhythmic motifs into the ground, though a contrasting section, led by (again) Mendelssohnian woodwinds, is an airy relief. The finale, which comprises a theme and six variations, comes off best; some of its orchestral and rhythmic transformations reminded me of Brahms's "Haydn" set.
Unlike Saint-Saëns's other tone-poems, La jeunesse d'Hercule doesn't offer an obvious pictorial "hook." It's a series of diverse, contrasting episodes, enjoyable in its Lisztian way, but in far more varied, colourful orchestral garb (Liszt's orchestrations are perfectly fine; Saint-Saëns's are beautiful.) There's nothing particularly Herculean about it; in fact, the tutti at 8:34, with its stressed motifs and rattling tambourine, threatens to morph into the "barbaric" section of Borodin's Polovtsian Dances! The familiar Danse macabre comes up fresh, with a real dance lilt at the start -- even the solo brass entries beginning at 3:38 are taut and lean, not weighty -- but becomes more driving and muscular as it builds.
The Malmö Symphony, facing (I imagine) mostly unfamiliar repertoire, does itself proud. The strings are polished and full-bodied: the violins unfold smooth, rippling runs in the symphony's finale; the low strings are resonant and expressive without losing focus. The woodwinds are impressive: the occasional group attack is slightly smudged, but, in delicate, lighter textures, the principal solos are breathtaking. In fact, it's nice to hear real piano reed playing, for a change. The brass are, no doubt, firmer and better unified than in any orchestra the composer might have heard.
The sound is fine. A long resonance blunts the tuttis in the symphony's scherzo, but this is nothing compared to the pervasively diffuse, cloudy sonics on the Martinon/EMI. Those quiet woodwinds I mentioned are given pinpoint definition.
This is a questionable recommendation at best: I didn't much care for the symphony, and I can't imagine that anyone reading this might still need a Danse macabre. The venerable analogue recordings by Dervaux (EMI) and Dutoit (Decca -- and pre-Montreal!) remain the easiest ways to add all four tone-poems to your collection.
Stephen Francis Vasta
stevedisque.wordpress.com/blog
Previous review: Leslie Wright
