Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov (1844-1908)
Scheherazade, Op 35 (1888)
Modest Mussorgsky (1839-1881)
Two versions of Night on Bald Mountain:
Tone Poem St John’s Eve on Bald Mountain (1867)
Dream Vision of the Peasant Lad (1880) from The Fair at Soronchyntsi (orch. Shebalin, 1930)
Orchestra e Coro dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia/Sir Antonio Pappano
Carlo Maria Parazzoli (solo violin, Scheherazade)
Dejan Vatchkov (bass)
rec. live, 25, 26 & 28 October 2014 (Dream Vision); 9-11 May 2019 (Tone Poem); studio, 2022 (Scheherazade)
Warner Classics 5419 793369 [70]
This all-Russian programme is an amalgam of recordings, both live and studio-made, set down over the last ten years by Pappano and his Roman orchestra. It is presumably something of a valedictory release, as he steps down as music director this year, when Daniel Harding takes over.
Neither of the Mussorgsky items is the version familiar to us as the result of Rimsky-Korsakov’s arrangement of Night on Bald Mountain – which is as much his composition as Mussorgsky’s. In fact, Mussorgsky never heard the work performed, although that was not for want of trying: its first incarnation, performed here, was the orchestral, so-called “tone poem” completed in 1867; he then incorporated the music in vocal form first into the collaborative opera-ballet Mlada in 1872, then again in his opera The Fair at Sorochyntsi (1880), but neither was performed in his lifetime.
The inspiration for the first version was a lost play by Georgi Mengden called The Witch. The second version for orchestra, adult and children’s choirs and solo baritone was for the opera also based on a play, this time by Gogol. It explores the tradition that Satan and his demonic horde run riot in a bacchanal throughout the night before St John’s Day, the Summer Solstice. That second version was orchestrated by Vissarion Shebalin, as part of his edition of the opera in 1930; that it what we hear in this issue.
They are both very different from the Rimsky version; I quote Pappano from the notes: “It comes as a shock, after we have been accustomed to Rimsky-Korsakov’s upholstered edition of Night on Bald Mountain, to hear this almost skeletally orchestrated music …. The sounds don’t blend, and the rhythms just leap off the page in a different way. The supposed lack of sophistication in Mussorgsky’s writing creates a bite that is very unusual for the time when this music was composed …. The way he treats rhythmic gestures is almost a foreshadowing of Stravinsky … Mussorgsky’s harmonies are strikingly unconventional for the time. Especially when he writes block chords, they are closely related to the music of the Russian Orthodox Church … It is bare and unadorned, with a stark rawness … It’s as though the unvarnished bluntness in his music reflects his own rough-and-ready, difficult character in life.”
Of course Rimsky-Korsakov’s symphonic suite Scheherazade, is completely different again in colours, textures and harmonies. It is much more what Pappano calls “a superb show-piece for the orchestra… technically very challenging, as it is musically for the conductor who must convey the sense of narrative in a compelling way … It’s full of pictorial imagery … There are often chamber music textures in Scheherazade … They beguile the listener’s ear – what a contrast to Mussorgsky! But of course you need a top-rate orchestra to accomplish these effects. It is especially in the score’s more transparent and singing moments that the orchestra’s quality is really key. Italian orchestral musicians are known for their singing sound and style, so I find this piece to be ideal for the Santa Cecilia Orchestra.”
So much for quoting from the notes, which I hope you do not find excessive; however, my job is to give you an idea of the quality of this new release.
My points of reference for Scheherazade have long been Stokowski’s two stereo recordings with the LSO in 1964 for Decca in Phase 4 sound – in which he typically retouches the score – and with the RPO in 1975 for RCA, without the alterations; on both occasions the violin soloist was Erich Gruenberg. I am also fond of Ormandy’s 1962 recording with the Philadelphians. All three are vintage accounts of course, albeit in fine analogue stereo, but Pappano has the immediate advantage of the best digital sound. The opening raucous brass fanfare certainly pins back the listener’s ears and the warmth of the orchestral in that wonderful seascape melody is a joy – yet I find Stokowski and his violin soloist back in 1964 just that bit more Romantic and beguiling – and honestly, there isn’t much of a disparity in their respective engineering. The RCA recording is a bit woollier and more recessed, slightly lacking in the bite of the Phase 4 sound, but the beautiful playing still comes across. Ormandy is sonically marginally better – more immediate, despite some faint background hiss – and what a voluptuous sound the Philadelphia Orchestra makes. Having said that, when the Santa Cecilia band gets going they sound magnificent and every soloist is a virtuoso, not just the leader. The music dances, twirls, declaims and yearns and Pappano does not let us forget that this is a symphonic suite; he thus confers a structural unity upon what is an essentially episodic narrative. One striking difference, however, is that at the start of the second section, The Story of the Kalendar Prince, after the solo violin’s introductory riff, Stokowski’s bassoonist is far more remotely positioned, lending a dreamy quality to his solo. Pappano’s is right under your nose, which is less atmospheric – and Stokowski’s bassoonist is rather more adroit at disguising where he needs to take a breath. The strings in the opening of The Young Prince and Princess are deep, rich and swooning. I can see why Pappano wanted this Russian music to be infused with Italianate passion, but I cannot help missing Stokowski’s illicit addition of a swirling harp with the woodwind. I am cavilling at little things; these are all marvellous recordings. If you own any of the older ones, your main reason for acquiring this new Warner release will reside in your desire to hear the Mussorgsky items, not the Scheherazade – unless, as I remark above, you must have digital sound. That has extraordinary immediacy but also reveals every sniff, grunt and ambient noise; you are in the front row (figuratively, as this is the studio-made item on the disc). The theme-composite finale really delivers thrills in demonstration sound but concludes serenely with a beautifully poised, prolonged high E on the solo violin.
I imagine that most collectors will, like me, never have heard either version of Night on Bald Mountain here. There is almost no indication of their being live performances and their sound is superb. The first orchestral version is so much rougher, rawer and harsher than the Rimsky arrangement and more suggestive of undiluted wickedness; its central section is very different too and the prominence given to the bank of percussion instruments adds to the excitement. I think on balance I would henceforth prefer to hear this original version. To be fair to Rimsky-Korsakov, he always maintained that his sole aim was to have Mussorgsky’s music heard and if the time came when his arrangements were discarded in favour of the originals, he would happily accede.
The choral version is reminiscent of the demonic music in works such as Berlioz’ La damnation de Faust and of course the crowd scenes in Boris Godunov; powerful stuff, even if the soloist is a bit woolly and shamefully Warner omits to provide a libretto, so we listeners have to try to guess what is going on. In truth – and partly for that reason – I enjoy the orchestral passages more than the sung sections, but events such as the chiming of six o’clock heralding the dawn and the retreat of the Satanic revellers are self-explanatory.
In sum, this is a fine Scheherazade, beautifully played but not necessarily superior to classic versions; it is the two thrilling Mussorgsky novelties which for me constitute the main interest of this issue.
Ralph Moore
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Tracklist:
- Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade, Op. 35: I. The Sea and Sinbad’s Ship (10:06)
- Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade, Op. 35: II. The Story of the Kalendar Prince (12:25)
- Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade, Op. 35: III. The Young Prince and Princess (10:23)
- Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade, Op. 35: IV. Festival at Baghdad – The Sea – Shipwreck – Conclusion (12:19)
- Mussorgsky: Night on Bald Mountain (1867 Version) Live
- Mussorgsky: Night on Bald Mountain (1880 Version for Bass and Choir) Live
