Jean Sibelius (1865-1957)
Pohjola’s Daughter
Night Ride and Sunrise
Pelléas et Mélisande Suite
Karelia Overture
Karelia Suite*
The Swan of Tuonela*
London Symphony Orchestra, London Philharmonic Orchestra*/Anthony Collins
rec. 1954-1957, locations not stated
Ambient Stereo
Pristine Audio PASC696 [73]

This is a mélange of Decca and HMV studio recordings from the 50s of Sibelius’ suites and tone poems, all subjected to Pristine’s XR Remastering into Ambient Stereo. The previous issues of the complete set of symphonies in this series of Anthony Collins’ Sibelius have been warmly received, as per my reviews of the first two (review) and last three (review).

There are of course so many recordings of the works on this latest disc that choice among them is very hard; fortunately, so many are so very good; many of the pieces here having attracted Sibelius specialists like Beecham, Karajan, Bernstein, Davis, Berglund, Kamu, Järvi, Vänskä, Segerstam and, more recently, Rouvali. All of those are on my shelves and I wouldn’t part with any of them, nor have I made the effort to make a detailed comparison between them all and this new collection, but I have dipped in and Collins, too, is undoubtedly a distinguished Sibelian – and his accounts become doubly enticing now that they have been rendered into such full, pleasing sound, as opposed to their original mono.

I began by comparing Collins’ Pohjola’s Daughter with recordings by Bernstein, Vänskä and Rouvali.

The sound given to Bernstein is really excellent for something nearly sixty years old; his woodwind are especially characterful and there is real drive and momentum to the sleigh ride after the brooding introduction and a spookiness to the invocation of the demigod Väinämöinen’s magic; I love the energy with which he invests this piece; the music glows and shimmers before the quiet resignation of the coda. Collins’ account is nearly as good but doesn’t have quite the immediacy of sound and impact even after the expert remastering and he goes for a subtler accelerando and crescendo than Bernstein’s hell-for-leather approach. The LSO’s playing is admirable but the timpani are somewhat lost in the sonic mush. Vänskä takes a different tack – one I like very much – and goes for Nordic bleakness; there is a spareness to the sound of the Lahti SO which ideally suits the strangeness of the legend and – dare I say, as one married to a Finn with Finnish friends? – the uniqueness of Finnish temperament. I do not mean for one moment to imply that their orchestral sound is undernourished but it is as clean and clear as a winter brook. Rouvali enjoys the deepest, richest sound of all and gives a ripely Romantic account – and the Gothenburg SO sounds like one of the world’s great orchestras (review).

In truth, good as Collins is, the individuality of Bernstein’s and Vänskä’s respectively very different way with this music and the sheer sumptuousness of Rouvali’s delivery in combination with the superiority of their recorded sound make all three of them preferable for me to Collins.

Next is Night Ride and Sunrise; the nature of the music makes me highly disinclined to believe it was inspired by a visit to the Colosseum in Rome and prefer Sibelius’ alternative explanation that “a sleigh ride and striking sunset” triggered its composition. No matter; this is a rare piece and I confess that I have no other recording with which to compare it – indeed, I had never encountered it before hearing it on this recording. It has the hallmarks of Sibelius’ more youthful style that are almost proleptic of Shostakovich in its frantic, moto perpetuo dynamism; I am not sure I have ever heard anything quite like it – and like it, I do. I guess I could call myself “a seasoned reviewer” but as I have often remarked, we all have our lacunae and I am happy to have been introduced to this fascinating and very “modern” work; I wonder why it is not more often encountered in concert – particularly if it were played with the same sweep and virtuosity of Collins and the LSO as per here.

The Pelléas et Mélisande suite is more familiar and here I was able to compare it with versions by Beecham, Kamu and Berglund. What dignity and power Beecham and the RPO bring to the stirring opening of the first movement, “At the Castle Gate” and the concluding string tremolos – so what a shame that these extracts do not include that; presumably it was never recorded. Admittedly, Beecham omitted “By the seashore”, but here we are given only five of the nine movements, which means that some of the nicest are absent, whereas Kamu’s and Berglund’s suites are complete. The sound here is decidedly more “vintage”, retaining a fair amount of hiss despite the remastering.

The Karelia Overture is given a vivid, vital performance, then we hear the suite. Given the number of first-rate recordings it has received, there is little point in making this music the chief criterion for choosing a compilation of Sibelian bon-bons but it is a safe choice. It must again be observed, however, that the sound is still quite thin, with some background crackle; to take a fairly random comparison, Ormandy with the Philadelphia Orchestra in 1968 on Sony Classics is much fuller and falls more gratefully on the ear. Vänskä, again, takes a subtler, more refined approach which engages the listener through its mystery; Kamu, in two recordings from 1976 and 1987 with two different Helsinki orchestras on the DG and Finlandia labels respectively, is much grander; Järvi is similarly stately but his beat is a little too relaxed for me, and overall, I am left feeling that Collins’ reading is rather neutral compared with more energised recordings.

The finale here is the haunting Swan of Tuonela, of which I have too many recordings, but just for you, dear MusicWeb reader, I listened to no fewer than six. In no particular order, Berglund is fine, but just a little staid and prosaic compared with the velvety indulgence of Karajan’s version, which features a warmer-toned cor anglais soloist; Ormandy is very much in the Karajan mode and I am hard pushed to choose between them. There is a dark, brooding intensity to Colin Davis’ slow account which I find compelling, even if the analogue sound is a little recessed compared with those realised in digital splendour and Segerstam on Ondine trumps them all with the advantages of spectacular digital sound, the most sensitive soloist in Sanna Niemikunnas and an infusion of “Finnish soul” into the playing which is hard to define but completely absorbs the attentive listener. After such riches, Collins might struggle to compete, but once the ear adjusts to the inevitably less luxuriant sound, the advantages of Leonard Brain’s characterful playing and Collins’ rather unusual emphasis upon drama and propulsion in this music, as opposed to a kind of languorous wash, become manifest and the listener will appreciate that here is another, very valid way of interpreting this piece.

On balance, while I can happily endorse this release as a welcome enhancement of Collins’ legacy as a champion of Sibelius, according to my taste, most of the works here may be heard elsewhere in superior sound and in somewhat more affectionate performances – but there is still much here to delight.

Ralph Moore