RACHMANINOFF: Symphony No. 1 in D Minor, Op. 13. The Isle of the Dead, Op. 29. St.
Petersburg Philharmonic Orchestra/Mariss Jansons, cond. EMI 56754 (F) (DDD) TT: 66:22
Webmeister Benson has heard me complain a couple of times that composers of the Russian
19th and Soviet 20th centuries seem disproportionately represented on this website. Yet I find
myself writing about two (more) Rachmaninoff CDs, the older of which is a treasure that all but
beggars words.
Claremont GSE is a South African company whose cover art is off-putting (a poorish sketch of the
composer/pianist/conductor by one René, in grey-tones, with yellow type on an overripe- peach
background). This is doubly a shame because the disc contains superlative performances,
superbly remastered, from 1939 (the Third Symphony), 1941 (the Fourth Concerto), and 1929 (the
Vocalise where the sheer gorgeousness of string sound belies its vintage). The Philadelphia
Orchestra in that period was equaled only by the Boston Symphony under Koussevitzky, and
reputedly was the composer's favorite. Claremont is upfront with a "Warning: This recording has
been made from 78 rpm shellac discs originating over 50 years ago. Some surface noise can be
heard." But not obtrusively, and besides, a whole lot more music has been preserved in amazing
transfers by Donald Graham (right up there with Ward Marston and Mark Obert-Thorn). "Amazing"
is not a word I bandy about. But as a teenage owner of these performances on 78-rpm discs, I
had no idea back then how opulently RCA was recording mono sound in Philadelphia's tricky
Academy of Music.
To the orchestra's combination of high-gloss and depth of tone, and the music's sheer sturdiness,
add Rachmaninoff's mahogany tone and weighted touch without sounding heavy-handed or
portentous. Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli's EMI recording of the neglected Fourth Concerto has
been called a paragon for almost 40 years (the coupled Ravel in G, however, really is a classic of
musical phonography). But this astonishing transfer not only reminds one how Rachmaninoff
played, how he sounded in person, but reconfirms ownership of his own music.
The Fourth hasn't the tunes of Nos. 2 and 3, and was extensively edited years after the original
proved a failure in 1926 (dumb notes by Thomas Rajna say Rachmaninoff "may have made many
cuts in his original sketches," but nothing about his downsizing of a much longer work -- the
original exists -- to 25 minutes). Ormandy accompanied the composer as faithfully as Stokowski
had, before his replacement in 1938 as music director; some may say even more so.
While the Third Symphony makes certain structural detours, it is a major work by a mature
composer, though he "hated" writing symphonies. Many conductors have performed it, but hearing
Rachmaninoff himself, again, after decades of disassociation, confirms his international reputation
on the podium (Boston importuned him, after all, but he said no, in order to concentrate on the
piano).
On EMI's 1998 recording of the composer's ill-fated First Symphony and The Isle of the Dead,
composed a dozen years later (the annotator counts 14 between 1887 and 1909), Mariss Jansons
has reverted to being quixotic. His Winter-Capital coupling of Symphony No. 3 and Symphonic
Dances is the best modern version of both works as I listen. But Symphony No. 2 sounded
cumbersome, almost clay-footed, with no "lift" melodically and too little tonal sheen. Now we have
a First full of expressive longueurs and hardly any rhythmic thrust, except in the second
movement Scherzo, which pares a minute off Ormandy's 1966 tempo, in a Sony reissue of the
symphonies that moves briskly -- at times matter-of-factly. What worked outstandingly for Jansons
and the St. Petersburghers in Shostakovich's 15th Symphony is misapplied in Rachmaninoff's
precocious First. (It was premiered by Glazunov , who was drunk and destructive, for which the
Winter-Capital critics blamed the 24-year old composer, after all an upstart from the Moscow
Conservatory, which sent him into a three-year alcoholic funk.)
But the lead balloon on this disc is an Isle as dead as the corpse in the skiff in Arnold Böcklin's
painting, which attracted Rachmaninoff's attention in a Dresden museum. (Actually it was one of
four paintings by the artist on the same subject.) Not even its 5/4 rhythm catches the ear. Laid-back? Try embalmed, and seek elsewhere: the composer himself on an RCA/ BMG remastering
of his definitive 1929 Philadelphia recording; Koussevitzky's, which replaced it in 1945; Reiner's
from Chicago that replaced Boston in 1957, and lots more. But no one should overlook a white-hot
performance by Dimitri Mitropoulos from his Minneapolis years, reissued by Sony on a Columbia
Masterworks Heritage CD with Mahler's Symphony No. 1.
R.D.
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