Posts tonen met het label Poulenc. Alle posts tonen
Posts tonen met het label Poulenc. Alle posts tonen

dinsdag 3 april 2012

Anima Eterna - Symphonic Silver


A couple of weeks ago DD, a reader of this listening diary, sent me a complimentary LP, issued in a limited edition of 500 copies (mine is nr. 28) on the occasion of Anima Eterna Brugge's silver jubilee. The luxurious and lavishly decorated double sleeve album was personally signed by Jos van Immerseel, the orchestra's conductor and tireless 'animator'. A very friendly gesture of both sender and signer, for which many thanks!

I must confess that Anima appeared on my radar only at a fairly late stage in their existence. It was their Beethoven set, recorded in 2005 for the Zig-Zag label that struck me more or less like a bolt from the blue. Up to that point I had been rather sceptical about the whole HIP movement, but van Immerseel with his Beethoven finally convinced me to embrace what period performance had to offer. That doesn't mean that I'm going along in their conception of 'authenticity' which, for me as a listener (and not as a music scholar), is largely besides the point. Being true to the spirit of the music is for me much more important than being true to the text. (Here I'm reminded again of that Debussy encore by Horowitz that I listened to last week. In his superslow rendering of the Serenade for the Doll, he must have taken terrific liberties with the score. And it was performed on a Steinway and not an Erard to boot. But who cares when this trifle nestles itself in your brain and mercilessly haunts you for a week on end!) It's an endless debate, of course, and we're not going to resolve it here. Suffice it to say that for me it is immaterial on which instrument a piece is played as long as it speaks to me as a human being. Or think about it this way: what a priceless legacy would we lose if everything that was recorded by traditionalists would simply be binned on the grounds that it didn't meet requisite criteria for 'authenticity'? That wouldn't make sense at all, wouldn't it?

van Immerseel's Beethoven was very good and his Berlioz Symphonie Fantastique was an utter revelation. I wrote a glowing Amazon review about this recording of which I'm still very fond. Sadly I have not yet been able to investigate other Anima Eterna recordings. I seem to remember that Robert Redford, in a column for Gramophone magazine, picked the orchestra's recording of Ravel's Boléro as his most treasured disc. I also would love to hear their Strauss, Liszt and Rimsky recordings. It will come, in due time. These days, Anima is touring with a Debussy programme which I sadly missed when they performed it in Brussels and Antwerp. Unfortunately there seem to be no plans to record it.

What I appreciate first and foremost in the van Immerseel/Anima Eterna recordings I know is a compelling view of 'the whole'. It's in my opinion a minimum requirement for any performance that aims for the status of greatness. If the overall architecture isn't right, then scrupulous attention to authentic detail won't save it (Debussy's music may be a terrific exception to this rule, as I tried to argue rather helplessly in my exchange with Mark DeVoto). And then there is the typical bonus that comes with period performance in the form of lean textures, crisp articulation and an overall more transparant sonic image. Luckily van Immerseel steers a middle course between the lushness of traditional performances and the brutish attacks of iconoclasts such as René Jacobs and Giovanni Antonini for whom textural ugliness seems to be a virtue. Anima Eterna produces a quite beautiful, sophisticated sound and there is a distinctive and beguiling earthiness to it that I'm not hearing anywhere else. This 'middle course', however, does not imply that van Immerseel's interpretations aim for a safe middle ground. I seem to notice that his recordings elicit very polarised reviews.The contrast between these two assessments of Anima's recent Poulenc disc is quite typical. I seem to think that van Immerseel is not too unhappy with this state of affairs.

The LP features a potpourri of pieces, from the early baroque to the 20th century, to illustrate the orchestra's breadth of repertoire. Some are excerpts from albums that have been issued earlier on Channel Classics (Mozart's piano concertos) and Zig-Zag (the Beethoven symphonies, the Poulenc concerto for two pianos). But the LP includes two unreleased tracks: a live recording of De Falla's Fire Dance (from Amor Brujo) and the finale from Schubert's Second Symphony from an archived studio recording. What, surprisingly, struck me most from the pieces included is an excerpt (Klaglied) from an early (1994) recording of a Buxtehude cantata (Mit Fried und Freud, ich fahr dahin, Bux WV 76) with the Collegium Vocale Gent. Limpid, harmonically rich but most effective in its simplicity it touched a nerve. It went straight onto my wishlist. Beyond the Buxtehude there is much to enjoy. I liked the measured approach to the Fire Dance a lot (as I did appreciate the deceptively leisurely take on Berlioz' Marche au supplice). Anima turned it from just another orchestral spectacular into a compelling study in colours and rhythms. The fiery Schubert finale is another highlight. I'm not so sure what to think of the Larghetto taken from the Poulenc double concerto. The sonic signature is very different from other Anima recordings, with the orchestra and soloists recorded as if from a rather great distance. In combination with the 'watery' sound of the two Erard pianos this creates a dreamy atmosphere as if we are hearing the piece in half-sleep. Finally, I've never investigated van Immerseel's take on the Mozart piano concertos. This was the recording project that brought him and the orchestra an international audience. But judging from the Allegro from KV 450 I seem to understand better what all the fuss at the time was about. If Channel Classics could be persuaded to re-issue the full set at an affordable price, I'd jump on it.

The technical quality of the LP is very good. I did an A/B comparison with the CD recording of the Beethoven Prometheus overture and the LP seems marginally more lively. Again, thanks for this generous treat to 'symphonic silver'.

donderdag 29 december 2011

Poulenc: Les Biches, Organ Concerto

Christmas is traditionally the time for exchanging gifts and I was very happy to see my CD collection grow with almost 30 units. One of the surprises was a 5-CD box with re-issued recordings of a significant selection of Francis Poulenc's orchestral works, featuring Charles Dutoit and the Orchestre Nationale de France (and the Philharmonia for one of the discs).

I picked out the music for the ballet Les Biches, which I have been listening to for years on a Chandos recording with Yan Pascal Tortelier. The music was commissioned by Diaghilev for his Ballets Russes in 1924 and put Poulenc on the map. The work is inspired by  paintings of Watteau that depict Louis XV and his various mistresses dallying in his Parc aux Cerfs (hence 'biches') at Versailles. This five-movement suite is Poulenc at his jocular best: neoclassical poise married to lighthearted, tongue-in-cheeck and at times somewhat abrasive humour. Dutoit's reading is cheerful and bubbly as it should be, and the ONF is in good form. Very agreeable.

The other piece I selected from this box is the Concerto for Organ, Strings and Timpani. The work dates from 1938 and strikes a more mature and reflective pose than the ballet. In fact, its composition coincided with Poulenc's visit to the Black Virgin at Rocamadour (quite close to where we are here in the Lot-et-Garonne) which initiated a dramatic rediscovery of his Christian faith and hence constituted a turning point in his biography. For Poulenc, the Organ Concerto belonged to the group of religously inspired works - including the Gloria and the Stabat Mater - that he would continue to elaborate later in life.

I had all but forgotten about this work but as soon as I started to listen, it struck me as very familiar. Browsing through my dad's music collection I found a recording with Michael Murray at the keyboard accompanied by Robert Shaw and his Atlanta Symphony Orchestra. It's an early Telarc recording from 1982. This must have been the CD that I have been listening to in the early days. I can't really recall having come across any other version.

This rediscovery, via the Decca recording (with Dutoit/Philharmonia/Peter Hurford), was very pleasurable indeed as it's a great and somewhat wayward work that deserves regular auditioning. It's cast in a single movement that connects seven contrasting sections. There is a little bit of everything: the 'soccer playing friars' (cfr the Gloria) are rubbing shoulders with a deeply contemplative atmosphere that harks back to the Baroque era. There is place for the late Romantic monumental (à la Vierne or Widor) too. As said the Dutoit reading provided considerable listening pleasure but to my mind it pales in comparison with the more deeply felt and spiritual rendering by Shaw and Murray. Again we are dealing here with one of those beautifully layered and finely chiseled Soundstream recordings that illuminate the work's somewhat opaque textures from within. Compared to Shaw, Dutoit sounds positively rushed. I think the more measured approach works better when it comes to giving the listener a feel for the intricacies of this complex score. The organ in Atlanta's Cathedral of Saint Philip, an Aeolian-Skinner instrument built in 1962, produces a wonderfully translucent sound. Again this compares favourably with the more massive voice of the organ in the cathedral of St Albans, just north of London (the organ has been completele restored in recent years; the recording dates, however, from 1993). All in all a work I would like to revisit soon.