New Shostakovich Recordings
Posted by: herm on 09 June 2003
I believe I reported about the Shostakovich Seventh Symphony Valery Gergiev performed in August / September 2001, both in the Netherlands and in London, at the BBC Proms, with a combined orchestra of the Rotterdam Philharmonic and the Petersburg Kirov Orchestra.
I have had the record for a couple of weeks now, and even though recording always compares dismally against one's recollections of the live event, I still like it a lot. This is remarkable, as Gergiev's earlier recording of the Shostakovich Eight was quite unspectacular.
Watching Mr Gergiev in concert over the years at his Rotterdam base I came to the conclusion that symphonies are not his thing. Never mind his flamboyant behaviour. He is a accompanying conductor, great for soloists and singers (in opera); bad for symphonies and ballet music.
The Seventh, however, is excellent - and I know this is not really Schos's top symphony. I compared this recording with three other recordings and it sits at the top.
The other recordings were:
Bernard Haitink with the London Philharmonic, Decca, 1980
Leonard Bernstein with the Chicago Symphony, DG, 1989
Rudolf Barshai with the West Deutsche Radio, Brilliant, 1992
The weird thing is the Haitink is by far best recorded - hello: early digital? In fact the Bernstein recording is the one most plagued by digital nasties, and more importantly, Bernstein is heavy. The allegretto of the second movement never gets moving, and a s a consequence the wind solos never take off. Haitink and Gergiev both have a nice moderato clip here, it's just that Gergiev's woodwinds have more soul.
The Barshai is horribly recorded and frankly the orchestra sound is of the 'Thousand Violins' variety. All Shostakovich's orchestral works tease the large and intimate paradox, and it just doesn&rsquot work if the recording sounds this way. (Not every recording in the Barshai box sounds this inappropiate.)
Comparing, ultimately, the 1980 Haitink and the 2001 Gergiev I'm amazed, again, at Haitink's feeling for Shostakovich, when there were not a lot of resources to draw on. If you already have the Haitink, you do not necessarily need the Gergiev, which has as a downside Gergiev's favored mushy recording technique, and as an upside totally committed orchestral forces (plus that it's on a single cd).
So tell me: what are your experiences / recordings of Shostakovich Seven?
I have chosen this thread title to allow, too, for discussing the new release of the Shostakovich string quartets by the original Borodin Quartet, from the sixties, on Chandos.
Herman
I have had the record for a couple of weeks now, and even though recording always compares dismally against one's recollections of the live event, I still like it a lot. This is remarkable, as Gergiev's earlier recording of the Shostakovich Eight was quite unspectacular.
Watching Mr Gergiev in concert over the years at his Rotterdam base I came to the conclusion that symphonies are not his thing. Never mind his flamboyant behaviour. He is a accompanying conductor, great for soloists and singers (in opera); bad for symphonies and ballet music.
The Seventh, however, is excellent - and I know this is not really Schos's top symphony. I compared this recording with three other recordings and it sits at the top.
The other recordings were:
Bernard Haitink with the London Philharmonic, Decca, 1980
Leonard Bernstein with the Chicago Symphony, DG, 1989
Rudolf Barshai with the West Deutsche Radio, Brilliant, 1992
The weird thing is the Haitink is by far best recorded - hello: early digital? In fact the Bernstein recording is the one most plagued by digital nasties, and more importantly, Bernstein is heavy. The allegretto of the second movement never gets moving, and a s a consequence the wind solos never take off. Haitink and Gergiev both have a nice moderato clip here, it's just that Gergiev's woodwinds have more soul.
The Barshai is horribly recorded and frankly the orchestra sound is of the 'Thousand Violins' variety. All Shostakovich's orchestral works tease the large and intimate paradox, and it just doesn&rsquot work if the recording sounds this way. (Not every recording in the Barshai box sounds this inappropiate.)
Comparing, ultimately, the 1980 Haitink and the 2001 Gergiev I'm amazed, again, at Haitink's feeling for Shostakovich, when there were not a lot of resources to draw on. If you already have the Haitink, you do not necessarily need the Gergiev, which has as a downside Gergiev's favored mushy recording technique, and as an upside totally committed orchestral forces (plus that it's on a single cd).
So tell me: what are your experiences / recordings of Shostakovich Seven?
I have chosen this thread title to allow, too, for discussing the new release of the Shostakovich string quartets by the original Borodin Quartet, from the sixties, on Chandos.
Herman
Posted on: 09 June 2003 by ejl
quote:
[Gergiev's] Seventh, however, is excellent - and I know this is not really Schos's top symphony
Thanks. Like Ross I've never gotten into this, but that may be because I have only Bernstein's earlier, 1962 recording with the NY Philharmonic, which in its lumbering heavy-handedness manages to make the lifting of the Nazi siege indistinguishable from the the siege itself.
quote:
What did you think of the quartets?
Ross,
Although you didn't ask me, I like them quite a lot, and have somehow managed to acquire the complete Borodin (on Melodia -- not sure if this is the same as the Chandos recordings), Emerson, Fitzwilliam, and parts of the Gabrieli recordings.
The Emerson and Borodin are both techinically very good, but my favorite is the Fitzwilliam, which is not technically the strongest (at their worst they mangle the tempo of the 14th), but which brings a kind of youthful enthusiasm to the whole enterprise that really works, for me anyway. I don't think this is on CD; vinyl only, on Decca.
quote:
I'm really waiting for a grey Stalinesque fog to descend before getting into the quartets again
Although as you may know, these are not all dark works. The 3rd and 12th, for instance, are quite joyous, even if the 12th is the last happy thing the man wrote.
Eric
Posted on: 09 June 2003 by Todd A
I just don't know if I can handle another DSCH 7. It is one of Shostakovich's symphonic low points, and I rarely consider listening to it. I know why Bartok satirized it. I own the Barshai and have heard the Bernstein, and while neither one is terrible, neither interests me. If I can buy the Gergiev cheaply enough, I may consider it.
My most recent Shostakovich purchase is the four-disc set of Mravinsky led recordings on Praga (for only $20!). It should arrive on Wednesday, and it has a sampling of the symphonies as well as the first violin concerto (with David Oistrakh, I believe) as well as Bartok's Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta. I can't wait. I'll report back on how I like it.
Please do tell about the early Borodin set. I like their second set on Melodiya, or at least what I have heard of it (three discs worth), but I must confess that I prefer both the Emerson Quartet and the Shostakovich Quartet in this music. (The excessively bright sound on the latter doesn’t bother me too much.)
My most recent Shostakovich purchase is the four-disc set of Mravinsky led recordings on Praga (for only $20!). It should arrive on Wednesday, and it has a sampling of the symphonies as well as the first violin concerto (with David Oistrakh, I believe) as well as Bartok's Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta. I can't wait. I'll report back on how I like it.
Please do tell about the early Borodin set. I like their second set on Melodiya, or at least what I have heard of it (three discs worth), but I must confess that I prefer both the Emerson Quartet and the Shostakovich Quartet in this music. (The excessively bright sound on the latter doesn’t bother me too much.)
Posted on: 09 June 2003 by Todd A
quote:
Originally posted by ejl:
[M]y favorite is the Fitzwilliam...I don't think this is on CD; vinyl only, on Decca.
The complete set by the Fitzwilliam is available as a budget box. It's $38 at Tower.
Posted on: 09 June 2003 by ejl
quote:
Please do tell about the early Borodin set.
Todd,
If your are referring to my post, these are the Melodia recordings made in the late '70's (into early '80s, I think). Mine has a '97 copyright: MEL40711. I would describe the playing as gritty; not in the sense of being uncontolled or imprecise (by any means), but in the sense of being intense, dark, and grainy. They are not polished and neat in the sense that the Emerson is (thankfully, IMO), but at the same time more controlled than the Fitzwilliam.
I am curious as to whether these are the same recordings as on the Chandos (which say Borodin).
Eric
Posted on: 09 June 2003 by herm
quote:
Originally posted by Todd Arola:
I just don't know if I can handle another DSCH 7. It is one of Shostakovich's symphonic low points, and I rarely consider listening to it. I know why Bartok satirized it.
Please do tell about the early Borodin set.
Well, as Ross suggested, it is almost a law of nature to leave the room during the more noisy bits of the Bolero pastiche, and come back when the mayhem is done. This stuff works if you're in the concert hall, but otherwise it doesn't. The nocturnal episodes in the first movement and the middle movements, however, are quite good, especially if they are performed not too heavily, as in this Gergiev recording. So that's why I got this recording.
Eric, the Chandos release of the Borodin Shostakovich Quartets is not the same as the one that used to be available on Melodyia. The Chandos is from the late sixties, and features the Borodin Quartet with its founding violinist, Rostislav Dubinsky, who in 1974 left the USSR and founded the Borodin (Piano) Trio with his wife on piano and Yuri Turovksy on cello.
The obvious downside of this recording is you miss out on the 14th and 15th Quartets. The second, Melodyia cycle featured the same line-up, but with Michael Kopelman on first violin (who joined the Tokyo Quartet in the late nineties, and has know retired). These late seventies, early eighties recordings are a little smoother in execution (and beautifully recorded, if I may say) than the ones with Dubinsky, who just is a more heart on the sleeve player than Kopelman.
Also one can't help but think that the composer was still alive and producing during the Chandos cycle, while the Melodyia was recorded in the aftermath of the revered composer's death. (In the eighties and nineties the Borodin used to light candles during their perfomances of the Fifteenth (the quartet S. dedicated to himself, after having dedicated the previous four to the respective members of his favorite string quartet), and dramatically extinguish them at the end.) There is a third, incomplete cycle by the Borodin on Virgin and Teldec, from the early nineties. It's not as good as the Melodyia. The playing is bigger and slower.
I still have to listen more closely to these recordings for a good report. I can say, however, both recordings are light years ahead of the perfectionist Emerson recording, which to me represents Shostakovich as a wax figure, rather than as an exciting composer. It happens to all composers, but you to avoid it as a listener, if you can.
Herman
Posted on: 09 June 2003 by Todd A
quote:
Originally posted by herm:
I can say, however, both recordings are light years ahead of the perfectionist Emerson recording, which to me represents Shostakovich as a wax figure, rather than as an exciting composer.
Blasphemy! May you be forced to listen to hours of Vangelis for your transgression!
Posted on: 11 June 2003 by Edot
Another downside to the Chandos set is that as it originally appeared on Decca it came the piano quintet with Richter playing. I've been hunting for a mint copy of this for a while without much success, so I just may pick up the new set. I have the Fitzwilliam set too and am pretty happy with it.
Posted on: 11 June 2003 by herm
In the six-cd Melodyia box there's a recording of the Piano Quintet, too, with Richter and the Borodin, recorded in December 1983.
By now I have closely compared Quartets 12 and 13. In all cases the second Borodin recording is more polished, with the first violinist Kopelman imparting his specific cool tone, low on vibrato.
The Twelfth Quartet (1968) is strange piece; it's DSCH's experiment in 12-tone composing. There's a really complicated bit in the middle with violins whirling chaotically on top of each other. The sixties Borodin just doesn't get the notes stacked accurately. It's a bit of a mess. The 1981 Borodin gets it right.
It's not hard to think why: in 1981 they'd had ten more years to get to grip with this complex score. Also, by that time they knew where the composer was aiming for, being just as familiar with DSCH's last two quartets - and I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say the Fifteenth quartet (1974), six adagios lasting 40 minutes, is the piece DSCH was aiming for all the time. This piece helps one interpret the preceding four pieces.
The Thirteenth Quartet lasts 18:38 in the sixties version, and 19:56 in the 1981 recording. Just as with the Twelfth Quartet, the slow passages are treated more mournfully in the later recording. And perhaps the Kopelman Borodin overdoes it a little bit in the Thirteenth. The page with the jazzy upper strings and the tapping on the fingerboard sounds snazzier in the early recording; the second recording misses just that little bit of sarcasm here.
So if I had to choose, I'd choose both.
Oh, and Todd, can I have that Vangelis now? I also listened to the Emerson Twelve and Thirteen, and though the latter is really good (perhaps the best in the box - thanks again, Ross), it still sounds like they've done too much thinking over it. It doesn't quite come from a single point. They are too eager to point out motives etc. I have no doubt it sounds wonderful by itself, the music is great, after all, and they are a top quartet (and I mean the top of the top) - but they just don't have the fire and soul the Borodin has, both recordings, I'm sorry.
Herman
By now I have closely compared Quartets 12 and 13. In all cases the second Borodin recording is more polished, with the first violinist Kopelman imparting his specific cool tone, low on vibrato.
The Twelfth Quartet (1968) is strange piece; it's DSCH's experiment in 12-tone composing. There's a really complicated bit in the middle with violins whirling chaotically on top of each other. The sixties Borodin just doesn't get the notes stacked accurately. It's a bit of a mess. The 1981 Borodin gets it right.
It's not hard to think why: in 1981 they'd had ten more years to get to grip with this complex score. Also, by that time they knew where the composer was aiming for, being just as familiar with DSCH's last two quartets - and I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say the Fifteenth quartet (1974), six adagios lasting 40 minutes, is the piece DSCH was aiming for all the time. This piece helps one interpret the preceding four pieces.
The Thirteenth Quartet lasts 18:38 in the sixties version, and 19:56 in the 1981 recording. Just as with the Twelfth Quartet, the slow passages are treated more mournfully in the later recording. And perhaps the Kopelman Borodin overdoes it a little bit in the Thirteenth. The page with the jazzy upper strings and the tapping on the fingerboard sounds snazzier in the early recording; the second recording misses just that little bit of sarcasm here.
So if I had to choose, I'd choose both.
Oh, and Todd, can I have that Vangelis now? I also listened to the Emerson Twelve and Thirteen, and though the latter is really good (perhaps the best in the box - thanks again, Ross), it still sounds like they've done too much thinking over it. It doesn't quite come from a single point. They are too eager to point out motives etc. I have no doubt it sounds wonderful by itself, the music is great, after all, and they are a top quartet (and I mean the top of the top) - but they just don't have the fire and soul the Borodin has, both recordings, I'm sorry.
Herman
Posted on: 11 June 2003 by Todd A
As expected, I received my four disc set of Evgeny Mravinsky conducting an assortment of works on Praga today. The set consists mostly of Shostakovich recordings – the 5th, 6th, 11th, and 12th symphonies along with the first violin concerto – along with the Bartok and Prokofiev’s Sixth. All of the recordings are of radio broadcasts made at the Prague Spring Festival during the 1950s and 60s with either the Leningrad Philharmonic or Czech Philharmonic.
I started with volume one, cuing the Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta first. Mravinsky leads a tightly played version, with every instrument in place. The respective roles of the first and second violins receive clear attention here, the recording revealing more in this area than in some other recordings. There are some moments of excitement and tension throughout, and the concluding movement is very good, but ultimately, this is an alternative version not able to match the best available. The recorded sound is a bit odd: it is close and dry, especially for a live 1967 recording, and the kettle drums sound incredibly flat, like they were filled with sand or something.
But this is a Shostakovich thread, so on to the other work on the disc: the Fifth, also from 1967. I must admit that this is not my favorite symphony by DSCH, but it is of course very good. Being familiar with Mravinsky’s stupefyingly great reading of the Eighth on BBC Legends, I was expecting the work to open with full force. It did not. Indeed, the entire first movement is a little quieter than I am used to. It’s not quiet, per se, it’s just not as bombastic as some conductors make it. No, this opening movement offers something different, something better: throughout there is a profound sense of bitter irony and sarcasm. More so than normal. This is no easy listening piece where DSCH is trying to make peace with the Party. Mr. Dzhugashvili was a pretty perceptive guy; had this piece been played like this for him as a piece by a humble, sycophantic composer, he would no doubt have ordered both Shostakovich and Mravinsky killed.
The second movement finds Mravinsky letting his Leningrad band rip. It is loud, it is powerful, it is unrestrained. It’s one hell of a mean joke, if its scherzo title is to be taken seriously. The third movement finds the band starting at a lower volume again, but here it serves the purpose of vividly displaying the powerful crescendos in the movement. Intense and purposeful, that’s how best to describe it.
Then there’s the finale. It is a scorcher. I have never heard anyone take the opening moments – and the reappearance of the opening theme – so recklessly fast. It almost sounds as if everyone is just barely hanging on. I can envision Mravinsky standing on the podium flailing his arms wildly if I didn’t know better. After the opening there is no rest. From start to finish, this finale sets the pace for conclusions to this work. It is simply phenomenal. The brass blare, the strings play in a frenzy, the climaxes can hurt the ear. This is how this piece should be concluded. Perhaps this is not the best ever recording of the work – though I cannot think of one I prefer – but it is one that fans of the work should hear. If the rest of the set is this good, I’m in for a real treat. Or number of treats. The only quibble is with the sound: it is congested, a bit unclear or fuzzy at times, and the glare and somewhat odd perspectives take some getting used to, but not much. Highly Recommended. I’ll report back on the other works later.
I started with volume one, cuing the Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta first. Mravinsky leads a tightly played version, with every instrument in place. The respective roles of the first and second violins receive clear attention here, the recording revealing more in this area than in some other recordings. There are some moments of excitement and tension throughout, and the concluding movement is very good, but ultimately, this is an alternative version not able to match the best available. The recorded sound is a bit odd: it is close and dry, especially for a live 1967 recording, and the kettle drums sound incredibly flat, like they were filled with sand or something.
But this is a Shostakovich thread, so on to the other work on the disc: the Fifth, also from 1967. I must admit that this is not my favorite symphony by DSCH, but it is of course very good. Being familiar with Mravinsky’s stupefyingly great reading of the Eighth on BBC Legends, I was expecting the work to open with full force. It did not. Indeed, the entire first movement is a little quieter than I am used to. It’s not quiet, per se, it’s just not as bombastic as some conductors make it. No, this opening movement offers something different, something better: throughout there is a profound sense of bitter irony and sarcasm. More so than normal. This is no easy listening piece where DSCH is trying to make peace with the Party. Mr. Dzhugashvili was a pretty perceptive guy; had this piece been played like this for him as a piece by a humble, sycophantic composer, he would no doubt have ordered both Shostakovich and Mravinsky killed.
The second movement finds Mravinsky letting his Leningrad band rip. It is loud, it is powerful, it is unrestrained. It’s one hell of a mean joke, if its scherzo title is to be taken seriously. The third movement finds the band starting at a lower volume again, but here it serves the purpose of vividly displaying the powerful crescendos in the movement. Intense and purposeful, that’s how best to describe it.
Then there’s the finale. It is a scorcher. I have never heard anyone take the opening moments – and the reappearance of the opening theme – so recklessly fast. It almost sounds as if everyone is just barely hanging on. I can envision Mravinsky standing on the podium flailing his arms wildly if I didn’t know better. After the opening there is no rest. From start to finish, this finale sets the pace for conclusions to this work. It is simply phenomenal. The brass blare, the strings play in a frenzy, the climaxes can hurt the ear. This is how this piece should be concluded. Perhaps this is not the best ever recording of the work – though I cannot think of one I prefer – but it is one that fans of the work should hear. If the rest of the set is this good, I’m in for a real treat. Or number of treats. The only quibble is with the sound: it is congested, a bit unclear or fuzzy at times, and the glare and somewhat odd perspectives take some getting used to, but not much. Highly Recommended. I’ll report back on the other works later.
Posted on: 20 June 2003 by Todd A
I finally finished off my Mravinsky box and must say that it is quite a success as far as box sets go. I can also draw a pretty sound conclusion: Mravinsky was one of the best Shotakovich conductors, perhaps even the best. I can also summarize his general approach to conducting DSCH – and everything in this box – in one word: intense.
I’ll start with the Prokofiev 6. It is very good. It is about as good as this symphony can get. Mravinsky leads his Petrograd band through an intense (see, there’s that word) performance that makes the time go by relatively quickly. I must confess that I am not a big fan of this work. Indeed, I am not a big fan of most of Sergei’s symphonies; I only really like his 1 and 5 (and I’m glad that’s a popular coupling!). Anyway, it’s good. But not great.
Now to Dimitri. I started back up with the first Violin Concerto with David Oistrakh from 1957. Here Mravinsky leads the Czech Philharmonic in a striking performance. Again, the word intense comes to mind, as does the word harsh. This is no smoothed over run-through. There is some anger and bitterness in the playing, from both the soloist and the band. Oistrakh plays exceptionally well, as one might expect. This set makes and interesting comparison to his roughly contemporaneous recording with Ormandy and the Philadelphia orchestra on Sony. On that recording there is a smoother, more sophisticated nature to the music. It is an excellent performance – hell, it’s a great performance – but it offers a different view. Which one to have? Both. (Well, since I own both, I’ll keep both.)
Next up, the 12. This is one of my least favorite of the 15. I generally find it boring and the programmatic content a bit much. That written, this is about as good a performance as I can imagine. The tuttis are all handled faster than I have heard before, and the whole thing seems shorter than the few times I’ve heard it or portions of it before. It still makes for a long 37 minutes, but there are a few truly exciting and compelling passages.
Now for the 6. I enjoy this symphony quite a bit more. And I very much enjoyed this performance. The opening movement is played with just the right (almost) Mahlerian tone and drama, and the concluding two movements contrast with the opening perfectly. That familiar Mravinsky speediness pops again in various passages and it is very effective. Other notable tempo manipulators like Furty ain’t got nothing on Mravinsky. Overall, I find the work both enigmatic and, probably as a result, compelling. No, it is not the best of the 15, but it is excellent and this is a great performance.
That leaves the 11. This is one of my favorites. Given that it shares a similar programmatic theme to the 12, I ought not to like it. But it inhabits a different world. Here Mravinsky starts very slowly and very quietly. The mood is somber. Then, at the appropriate time, the music begins to swell and then thunder. All throughout the work the dynamic contrasts are strongly underlined, hammering home the point of the music. The massive tuttis from the huge orchestra sound it. Well, sort of. This is one of those works where a recording can never capture the essence of the music.* That is exacerbated here by especially unsatisfactory sound: it is thin, wiry, and bass-light (hell, almost bass-missing). That cannot mask the power of the performance; this is a great performance.
As to overall sound: it is acceptable, but not very good at times. These were all recorded for broadcast and have the occasional shifts in balance, drop-outs, and hazy sound that one might expect. I’ve heard worse, but I’ve heard better.
Anyway, this box makes an excellent addition to my library.
* This point was driven home this past January when I attended a concert performance of the work led by James DePreist. This is apparently one of his favorite works and he has recorded it before. The performance I heard was somber and brutally intense, and really, really loud. I was in the fifth row and wished I was a bit further back. I had never heard acoustic music this loud before. When I complain about the sound becoming congested on some recordings or with some gear, I now realize that may be a reflection of the actual event. Indeed, the sound became quite hard and congested sounding: a bigger hall is needed for this work. The performance was brilliant, by the way, and was also recorded (along with the performances from the following two nights) and I may very well by a copy when one appears.
I’ll start with the Prokofiev 6. It is very good. It is about as good as this symphony can get. Mravinsky leads his Petrograd band through an intense (see, there’s that word) performance that makes the time go by relatively quickly. I must confess that I am not a big fan of this work. Indeed, I am not a big fan of most of Sergei’s symphonies; I only really like his 1 and 5 (and I’m glad that’s a popular coupling!). Anyway, it’s good. But not great.
Now to Dimitri. I started back up with the first Violin Concerto with David Oistrakh from 1957. Here Mravinsky leads the Czech Philharmonic in a striking performance. Again, the word intense comes to mind, as does the word harsh. This is no smoothed over run-through. There is some anger and bitterness in the playing, from both the soloist and the band. Oistrakh plays exceptionally well, as one might expect. This set makes and interesting comparison to his roughly contemporaneous recording with Ormandy and the Philadelphia orchestra on Sony. On that recording there is a smoother, more sophisticated nature to the music. It is an excellent performance – hell, it’s a great performance – but it offers a different view. Which one to have? Both. (Well, since I own both, I’ll keep both.)
Next up, the 12. This is one of my least favorite of the 15. I generally find it boring and the programmatic content a bit much. That written, this is about as good a performance as I can imagine. The tuttis are all handled faster than I have heard before, and the whole thing seems shorter than the few times I’ve heard it or portions of it before. It still makes for a long 37 minutes, but there are a few truly exciting and compelling passages.
Now for the 6. I enjoy this symphony quite a bit more. And I very much enjoyed this performance. The opening movement is played with just the right (almost) Mahlerian tone and drama, and the concluding two movements contrast with the opening perfectly. That familiar Mravinsky speediness pops again in various passages and it is very effective. Other notable tempo manipulators like Furty ain’t got nothing on Mravinsky. Overall, I find the work both enigmatic and, probably as a result, compelling. No, it is not the best of the 15, but it is excellent and this is a great performance.
That leaves the 11. This is one of my favorites. Given that it shares a similar programmatic theme to the 12, I ought not to like it. But it inhabits a different world. Here Mravinsky starts very slowly and very quietly. The mood is somber. Then, at the appropriate time, the music begins to swell and then thunder. All throughout the work the dynamic contrasts are strongly underlined, hammering home the point of the music. The massive tuttis from the huge orchestra sound it. Well, sort of. This is one of those works where a recording can never capture the essence of the music.* That is exacerbated here by especially unsatisfactory sound: it is thin, wiry, and bass-light (hell, almost bass-missing). That cannot mask the power of the performance; this is a great performance.
As to overall sound: it is acceptable, but not very good at times. These were all recorded for broadcast and have the occasional shifts in balance, drop-outs, and hazy sound that one might expect. I’ve heard worse, but I’ve heard better.
Anyway, this box makes an excellent addition to my library.
* This point was driven home this past January when I attended a concert performance of the work led by James DePreist. This is apparently one of his favorite works and he has recorded it before. The performance I heard was somber and brutally intense, and really, really loud. I was in the fifth row and wished I was a bit further back. I had never heard acoustic music this loud before. When I complain about the sound becoming congested on some recordings or with some gear, I now realize that may be a reflection of the actual event. Indeed, the sound became quite hard and congested sounding: a bigger hall is needed for this work. The performance was brilliant, by the way, and was also recorded (along with the performances from the following two nights) and I may very well by a copy when one appears.
Posted on: 26 June 2003 by herm
I took some more time to compare the sixties recording of the Shostakovich String Quartets (by the Borodin Quartet) with the ca 1980 recording, throwing in the 2000 Emerson Quartet recording, too.
In the later quartets I had had a sense the later Borodin recording was more interesting. The past couple of days I compared the Seventh and Eighth Quartets, and I think the earlier recording is quite good, more vivid and arresting.
The Seventh (1960) is a lovely, elusive, enigmatic piece, dedicated to DSCH's first wife who'd died eight years before; the little celestial waltz at the end is particulary touching. Rather short, it is an almost self-contained artifact DSCH crafted in memory of his wife. I love it. I can play it three times in a row, leave, come back and start afresh. The timings are 11:52 and 12:30 respectively: again the 1981 recording is slower and sounds more deliberate, while the earlier recording has a sense of spontaneity that works better.
The Eighth Quartet is one of those strange works DSCH apparently composed in a couple of days and that gained disproportianate popularity - just like the Seventh Symphony. Much of the piece depends on rather ponderous symphonic gestures. You may have guessed: it is no favorite of mine. Listening to the recordings the story is the same: the later recording is a little more ponderous than the sixties one, so I'd prefer the earlier one. I have to say the Emerson does this piece pretty nicely, too. Their dry, fast attack works rather well in this melodramatic work.
So perhaps I'll conclude now: the Chandos release is an excellent choice and great VFM if you're not as deeply attached to the last set of quartets as I am. However for the last pieces you really need the eighties Borodin recording (which sadly is unavailable at the moment). There, the later recordings have a mix of mastery and freshness I have always admired. The Emerson is not as bad as I said at the top of this thread (however, in a piece like the Fifteenth Quartet, the apotheosis of DSCH's later work, they really let you down).
In the later quartets I had had a sense the later Borodin recording was more interesting. The past couple of days I compared the Seventh and Eighth Quartets, and I think the earlier recording is quite good, more vivid and arresting.
The Seventh (1960) is a lovely, elusive, enigmatic piece, dedicated to DSCH's first wife who'd died eight years before; the little celestial waltz at the end is particulary touching. Rather short, it is an almost self-contained artifact DSCH crafted in memory of his wife. I love it. I can play it three times in a row, leave, come back and start afresh. The timings are 11:52 and 12:30 respectively: again the 1981 recording is slower and sounds more deliberate, while the earlier recording has a sense of spontaneity that works better.
The Eighth Quartet is one of those strange works DSCH apparently composed in a couple of days and that gained disproportianate popularity - just like the Seventh Symphony. Much of the piece depends on rather ponderous symphonic gestures. You may have guessed: it is no favorite of mine. Listening to the recordings the story is the same: the later recording is a little more ponderous than the sixties one, so I'd prefer the earlier one. I have to say the Emerson does this piece pretty nicely, too. Their dry, fast attack works rather well in this melodramatic work.
So perhaps I'll conclude now: the Chandos release is an excellent choice and great VFM if you're not as deeply attached to the last set of quartets as I am. However for the last pieces you really need the eighties Borodin recording (which sadly is unavailable at the moment). There, the later recordings have a mix of mastery and freshness I have always admired. The Emerson is not as bad as I said at the top of this thread (however, in a piece like the Fifteenth Quartet, the apotheosis of DSCH's later work, they really let you down).
Posted on: 26 June 2003 by Todd A
quote:
Originally posted by herm:
The Emerson is not as bad as I said at the top of this thread.
Good to see you have come to your senses. Of course they can't nail every quartet, but they offer an exceptional outlook. Of course, at this level of playing - meaning both the Borodin and Emerson - there is much to be gained from listening to different sets.
(Hey, if you want some bad Shostakovich quartet playing, try the Manhattan Quartet. It may just be what you need to help you on those nights you can't sleep.)