Johannes Brahms (1833-1897)
Ein deutsches Requiem, op. 45
Anton Bruckner (1824-1896)
Symphony No. 4 in E-flat major (“Romantic”), WAB 104 (1878-1880 with 1886 revisions, ed. Nowak) Volksfest (1878)
Helgoland, cantata for male choir and orchestra, WAB 71# (1893)
Elina Nechayeva (soprano)
Atlan Karp (baritone)
State Choir Latvija (requiem); Estonian National Male Choir (Helgoland)
Estonian National Symphony Orchestra/Neeme Järvi
rec. live, 10 May (Requiem), 13 (Volksfest & Helgoland) & 18 September (Symphony) 2019, Estonia Concert Hall, Tallinn, Estonia
Text available as a download
Great Maestros series vols. XVIII-XIX
Estonian Record Productions ERP12622 [2 CDs: 142]
These live performances of Bruckner’s Fourth Symphony, Volksfest and Helgoland are coupled with the Brahms Requiem and are part of the “Great Maestros” series by Estonian Record Productions, several of which feature veteran conductor Neeme Järvi. I think it is fair to say that despite the breadth of his repertoire in Romantic and 20C music, Järvi has no special reputation as a Bruckner conductor and the couple of recordings of Bruckner symphonies he has made for the Chandos label have not, in general, been well received, partly owing to his penchant for excessively fast speeds and rushing transitions in those works, so my expectation for this were muted. Certainly the raw timings are not promising; all the most admired accounts of this symphony are well over sixty minutes and Järvi’s here is literally the sole recording under fifty – 49:20, to be precise – indicative of an eccentricity bordering on the wilful; only Klemperer in a 1951 studio recording begins to approach his haste in what I think we may call an equally quirky reading.
Sure enough, Maestro Järvi soon puts his cards on the table and by a minute and half into the first movement we are running for the Bruckner bus then jogging breathlessly alongside it. It’s a bit like hearing the Looney Tunes version – good, wholesome fun with no pretence of gravitas or dignity; some might find it “refreshing” – but I imagine that they are the same people who worship at the shrine of St Roger of Norrington and good luck to them. In all fairness, as one becomes habituated to the frenetic pace, around half way through the element of excitement mounts and occasionally the listener can remember to admire some very decent horn and brass playing but the second, descending “Bruckner rhythm” theme is essentially garbled at the speed Järvi adopts and there is absolutely nothing reposeful about the ensuing “Gesangsperiode”, which sprints along purposefully and, to be frank, I find the scurrying dash of the coda absurd. There is little point in my reiterating in any detail my identical objections to remaining movements. The Andante is no gentle, “moderately slow” walking pace but a determined stride. Järvi has identified and applied his gimmick and you think, by golly, he is going to stick to it – but then, with the rallentando at 8:40 he eases up and the coda is suitably enigmatic, its mystery gently teased out above the softly padding timpani. Horn blips and some rhythmic uncertainty in the opening of the Scherzo are unfortunate but the whole thing is over before we have to settle, as it’s three or four minutes faster than anyone else’s. The opening of the finale is a total panic before the sudden and rather crude deceleration 45 seconds in and there is a kind of bluff, bludgeoning hysteria to the remainder but the rush occasions some iffy intonation in the orchestra and we certainly have no time to savour nuances or Mr Järvi will miss the last train home. The coda is utterly devoid of suspense; its most striking feature is a loud cough at 15:13.
The Volksfest was the product of the second revision of the symphony – it is shorter than that which replaced it with less complicated harmonic progressions but of course still acts as a compendium of the symphony’s themes. It will come as no surprise to learn that it is taken much faster here than it is by other exponents such as Schaller, Poschner and Hrůša – with predictable results (see above).
The cantata or “choral symphony” Helgoland was commissioned for the 50th anniversary of the Vienna Men’s Choral Society and is rarely performed. The influence of Wagner – especially Die fliegende Holländer – is much in evidence and is – mirabile dictu – swift but not hurried or harried. The choir is excellent – nice diction, good balance between the sections of strong basses and properly audible tenors and between the choir and orchestra as a whole – certainly the best thing on this disc. The climactic finale three minutes in is truly stirring and applause is retained. Sadly, surely nobody will purchase it for that work alone but I fear the rest of the Bruckner is short on merit…
The timings for the Brahms Requiem set off similar alarm bells; at sixty-five minutes, it is some five to ten minutes faster than my favourite accounts, but bearing in mind George Bernard Shaw’s acerbic observation that the Requiem was ““a solid piece of musical manufacture that could only have come from the establishment of a first-class undertaker” and “a colossal musical imposture patiently borne only by the corpse” (but to be fair, Shaw would eventually- and typically – call his animosity towards Brahms “my only mistake), perhaps a little more momentum is no bad thing – and to my ears there is no lack of gravitas in this performance. The choir is very good, especially the soaring sopranos; their German diction is crisp, they are pure and delicate in “So seid nun geduldig” and not drowned out by the splendid timpani in “Denn alles Fleisch”. I could, however, do with more attack on the climactic “Aber des Herrn Wort” which is sturdy but hardly as shattering as it can be; they are more incisive in the repeated “wird weg”. I am not, however, much taken by the baritone soloist whose voice lacks firm core and has an excess of vibrato; he is no more than adequate but the choir is excellent in the fugue which concludes the third movement. That same choir is oddly tentative in the opening bars of “Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen” but it soon gets into its stride and Järvi’s swift pace keeps it light and tripping, exuding joy. The soprano soloist in “Ihr habt nun Traurigkeit” has a trilling vibrato and her timbre is just a little edgy with a lack of lower register development but she sings prettily enough; I am spoiled by the likes of Gundula Janowitz and Margaret Price. I find the baritone more engaging in the drama of the sixth movement and both the choir and orchestra respond to Järvi’s drive to produce considerable excitement singing that great text “Der Tod ist verschlungen in den Sieg. Tod, wo ist dein Stachel?” (Death is swallowed up in victory. Death, where is thy sting?) and the second fugue is even more fervent than the first while the stabbed-out repetitions of “Preis und Ehre” are beautifully articulated . The concluding “Selig sind” is broad and serene. No wonder GBS recanted.
The recorded sound here is fair – a touch cavernous and blurred; certainly not as clean and detailed as some other recent live recordings I have heard, such as Xavier-Roth’s performance of the original version of the Bruckner symphony, which I described as “exemplary – so good, in fact, that I almost forgot to make mention of it” – which is not quite the case here, but it is satisfactory.
Ralph Moore
(The Bruckner section of this review reproduced here by kind permission of The Bruckner Journal)
Availability: ERP Music
