Bis have released the full Rachmaninov orchestral recordings made by the Singapore Symphony Orchestra over the past decade. Here's my review from MusicWeb International.
Sergei RACHMANINOV (1873-1943)
Symphony No.1 in D minor, Op.13
[45:32]
Symphonic Movement in D minor
[14:16]
Prince Rostislav [14:30]
Symphony No.2 in E minor, Op.27
[61:23]
Vocalise, Op.34 No.14 [5:53]
Symphony No.3 in A minor, Op.44
[44:36]
Symphonic Dances, Op.45 [36:45]
The Rock, Op.7 [14:21]
Four excerpts from Aleko [14:35]
Capriccio bohémien, Op.12 [18:27]
Scherzo in D minor [4:43]
Prelude to The Miserly Knight,
Op.24 [6:28]
The Isle of the Dead, Op.29 [20:02]
Singapore
Symphony Orchestra, Lan Shui (conductor)
rec. Esplanade
Concert Hall, Singapore. July 2008, July/August 2011, August 2012, July/August
2013, November 2014, November 2015.
Bis BIS-2512 [four
discs - 306:11]
In
2019 Lan Shui stepped down as Music Director of the Singapore Symphony
Orchestra – only the second holder of that post in the orchestra’s 40-year
history. His appointment in 1997 was followed by the orchestra’s move
from the cramped and acoustically unedifying 900-seat colonial-era Victoria
Concert Hall to the new, purpose-built 1800-seat Esplanade Concert Hall with
its spacious auditorium, extensive backstage area and state-of-the-art (as they
were then) acoustics. Together, the
changes of Music Director and performance home brought about a dramatic change
in the orchestra. Previously a mediocre
band of fewer than 50 players performing to small audiences comprising mostly
foreign visitors and expats, it was transformed into a fully-fledged, 96-strong
symphony orchestra frequently playing to almost full houses of an increasingly
engaged local audience drawn, in large part, by Shui’s preference for
programming the big orchestral showpieces of the 19th and 20th
centuries. With a revitalised orchestra,
a solid audience base, a top-notch performing venue and a growing international
reputation, the Singapore Symphony caught the attention of Bis, who made no
less than 28 recordings of the orchestra under Shui. These included the three
Rachmaninov symphonies coupled with various other orchestral pieces, and these recordings,
made between 2008 and 2015 in the generous acoustic of the Esplanade, have now
been gathered together in a four-SACD box set.
That
Shui was a protégé of Bernstein is manifestly obvious in his tendency to stop
and wallow, self-indulgently at every opportunity for emotional excess, and
then bustle along with almost indecent haste until it is time to stop and
navel-gaze again. For many – especially
those who regard Rachmaninov as a kind of Chopin on steroids – this is the
ideal approach, but it can suffocate the musical argument; as with the opening
of the First Symphony, which unfolds with almost excruciating slowness, each
note weighed down by an imposed significance which stifles any sense that this
is leading anywhere. But where emotion
is suppressed by energy and the hustle and bustle of inner detail, Shui really
draws some vivid playing from his Singapore orchestra. The iconic Dies Irae theme is punched
out with great effervescence in the second movement, to such an extent that the
viola solo seems almost breathless as it fights to get its message out from
under a canopy of eager pizzicato strings. Shui also reveals an instinctive feel to
pacing the approach to climaxes and, equally important in Rachmaninov,
subsiding away from them, and in these his players are right there on his
tails, readily responsive to his direction.
They are also prepared to give it their all when he decides to wallow in
emotional rhetoric.
Almost
inevitably, Shui pulls the emotional heartstrings of the third movement of the
Second Symphony almost to breaking point, although overindulgence is
compensated by a charmingly played, if rather thin-sounding clarinet solo,
which keeps any sense of pathos at arm’s length. But while opportunities for emotional
wallowing are seized with alacrity, Shui also drives much of the music along
with great impetuosity, making some of the more athletic passages (such as the fugue
of the second movement) truly electrifying.
Shui’s tendency to over-state string portamentos in the finale really
grates with me; but I accept that is a very personal matter, and there may well
be those who find it, if anything, underdone.
For
me, the most successful performance is that of the Third, a somewhat elusive work
and something of the black sheep among Rachmaninov symphonies. Shui underlines the wistfulness of it all,
making sure we all get the message that this is an exercise in nostalgia;
Rachmaninov in America, wishing he was back in pre-Soviet Russia where people
respected him as a composer and did not just did not see him as some kind of
freakish throwback, scowling at the new, forward-thinking land which had so
generously opened its doors to him and paid for him to live in some
luxury. Flashes of optimism burst out in
short-lived blazes of glory, which are effectively extinguished by the fire
blanket of strings which Shui moulds so effectively, and even the apparent
triumphalism of the final movement is played down to maintain the underlying
sense of longing for times past. This is
a broad vision of the work, avoiding excessive introspection or overly dramatic
climaxes, and it works extremely well; not least the exquisite violin solo in
the second movement.
The
symphonies, lushly padded out by Shui and warmly played by the Singapore
Symphony Orchestra in the luxurious acoustic of the Esplanade Concert Hall,
will provide an ample dose of sumptuous orchestral sound for many, but for
those with a more inquisitive mind, it is the filler pieces on the discs which
make this a particularly attractive set.
Filling the first disc (which largely comprises the First Symphony), is
the movement of an otherwise stillborn “Youth” Symphony, composed when
Rachmaninov was in his teens. It is full
of individual character and with the ghost of Tchaikovsky only occasionally
evident; perhaps only the awkward ending shows a lack of compositional
experience. Here, Shui’s invigorating
approach, injecting it with sizzling energy and vivacity, reveals a work of real
distinction. The ever-response orchestra
includes some enchanting instrumental solos (notably the clarinet) and a brass
section which oozes both menace and impressive power; you get the sense that
Shui had his work cut out to keep this lot in check. Immediately after the youthful symphonic
movement, Rachmaninov composed Prince Rostislav, which, unlike the
symphonies, has a clear and vivid programme – in this case a ballad by Tolstoy
telling of a drowned knight awoken by a storm – which draws some wildly
imaginative writing from Rachmaninov and some gloriously picturesque playing
from the orchestra. At times one is
reminded of Lyadov’s Enchanted Lake in the dark, brooding opening (a
fine exhibition of the Singapore bass section), while the timpani and harp as
the storm breaks are among the absolute stars of this performance.(and are magnificently
captured by Bis’s superb SACD sound). Shui
has a broad vision of the piece, and it comes across as a thoroughly
self-assured musical tone-poem.
The
Vocalise which squeezes itself in beside the Second Symphony, needs no
introduction. Here it is performed in
the orchestrated version Rachmaninov made in 1912. It turns out to be a magnificent showpiece
for the Singapore violins, which expound that timeless melody with a sense of
yearning which seems appropriate given the rather bloated feel that inevitably
comes from converting a simple vocal exercise into an orchestral showpiece. The Symphonic Dances provide a
singularly apt partner to the Third Symphony; both works written after
Rachmaninov had left Russia and settled in the USA. If the Symphony is an exercise in nostalgia,
the Symphonic Dances are rather more obviously looking back (the first
ends with an identical setting of the Dies Irae to that which came in
the final movement of the First Symphony), and while a kind of mysterious veil
hangs over this whole performance (recalling Ravel’s exercise in nostalgia – La
Valse), Shui maintains a powerful dance momentum and ensures each
instrumental group gets its own share in the limelight. Perhaps the net result is a little
impersonal, but as an exercise in finely blended orchestral colours, this is
well worth hearing; and clearly the percussion are having a ball at the end of
the last dance.
Attentive
readers may have been wondering how three symphonies, the longest of which even
when drawn out to its absolute limits still leaves a good 10 minutes to spare
on a SACD playing time, can be stretched over four discs. The answer comes with a collection of Rachmaninov
orchestral pieces, none of them really symphonic, which comprises the
intriguing fourth disc. Rachmaninov’s
very first orchestral work, Scherzo in D minor, written when he was just
14, shows, according to the booklet notes, “very little personal character”. If that is so, nobody told Shui or his
Singapore players, who invest it with great character and individuality. True, the light bubbliness of the playing is
more Mendelssohn than Tchaikovsky, and glimpses of what we now recognise as
Rachmaninov are rare, but this is clearly the work of an extraordinarily
talented and self-possessed young composer who, while he may have headed off in
another direction, still had plenty of character of his own to put on display
here.
Other
orchestral pieces on this disc are better known and already well represented in
the catalogues, but these are performances which stand comparison with the very
best. The Rock, like Prince Rostislav which preceded it by
a couple of years, shows off the fine bass section of the orchestra, while the
shimmering violins, haunting horn and skipping flute all add delightful
splashes of colour, even if Shui
sometimes seems to lose the plot and the performance as a whole moves along
rather uncomfortably. Capriccio
bohémien is a somewhat dark piece at the best of times (despite the title),
but here it takes on an almost ominous feel with the pounding drums very much
to the fore and the gypsy themes feeling as if they are drenched in blood. The Isle of the Dead does not disguise
its intentions, and even Rachmaninov was happy to draw attention to its visual
stimulus. Shui is utterly at home in
music which both paints such vivid pictures and explores the full resources of his
orchestra, and this is a sumptuously tailored performance, giving ample space
to the numerous solo passages as they
emerge from the deep recesses of the orchestra and then melt back again.
It
is as pointless a question as it is an intriguing one; what if the Bolshevik
Revolution had never taken place and Rachmaninov had lived his entire creative
life in Russia? He would almost
certainly have gone on to write a great deal more vocal music (he wrote 87
songs on Russian soil – none on American), and, given his instinctive feel for
the dramatic, would probably have gone on to be regarded as one of the major
opera composers of the 20th century.
As it is, Rachmaninov completed just three operas, but he began at least
three others. Orchestral music from two
of those completed operas completes this fourth SACD. We have here the prelude to The Miserly
Knight in a somewhat jerky performance, although oozing the dark, brooding
colours which Shui compellingly reveals, and a suite of orchestral excerpts
from Aleko. These work quite well
divorced from the opera, the “Introduction” followed by the “Men’s Dance”,
are full of Tchaikovskian bombast and melodramatic gestures delivered with
relish by Shui and his Singapore players, a brief “Intermezzo” gives a chance
for the Singapore strings to send out waves of gentle muted tone, although wind
solos might benefit from a little more care over shaping, while the “Women’s
Dance” seems rather faltering as Shui lingers a little too long and lovingly
over the sensuous melodic lines.
His All-Night Vigil is definitely an underrated scared masterpiece.
ReplyDeleteShui's dedication to SSO is worthy of huge appreciation. However, I would still stick to Maestro Evgeny Svetlanov for Rach's orchestral pieces.