Berlioz Symphonie fantastique and Lélio ou Le retour à la vie, this time with Philippe Jordan conducting the Wiener Symphonker wirh Cyrille Dubois, Florian Sempey and Jean-Philippe Lafont (narrator) with the Wiener Singverein from the Wiener Symphoniker's own recording label. Symphonie fantastique is ubiquitous, with numerous performances and recordings every year. But what is news is that this programme is an "extended" version, so to speak, since the symphony (op 14) and the monologue lyrique (op 14b) were designed on symmetrical principles, with numerous interconnections, forming a kind of mega symphony whose architecture is revealed by hearing the two parts together. There have been earlier recordings - Jean Martinon in 1973 being my particular favourite, but in performance, the pairing is not easy to achieve because the two parts require very different forces. Colin Davis, for example, recorded Lélio minus the all-important part of Lélio the composer, though his narration is fundamental to the whole structure. The spoken words draw together the vocal and orchestral parts and gives them context. Without narration, cohesion is lost, no matter how good the singing and playing might be.
This recording, with Jordan and an extremely good pair of soloists, would be a top recommendation were it not for the recent Symphonie fantastique and Lélio with François-Xavier Roth and Les Siècles, which sets new standards of excellence. Please read more about that HERE. That said, this new recording, with Jordan and the Wiener Symphoniker has a great deal going for it. It's very different from Roth/Les Siècles, but well worth hearing on its own terms.
A very stylish Symphonie fantastique , Jordan making the most of the Wiener Symphoniker's poise and elegance. In "Rêveries" one might call the keening string lines a "Sensucht" motif : "reverie", or longing, has no national boundaries. The idéé fixe is thus framed in a context that fits in with the orchestra's strengths, the "sweetness" in the strings laced with melancholy. As the pace picks up, the sound is fuller, yet still driven by almost manic impulse. The waltz in "Le Bal" is particularly suited to an orchestra based in Vienna : Jordan shapes the figures so they seem to whirl round, the way dancers move gaily, but in strict formation. Again the idée fixe reminds us that time cannot stand still. A lovely introduction to the "Scène aux champs", the dialogue between cor anglais and oboe reflecting the sense that fulfilment might be elusive. With modern instruments, the "March au supplice" is perhaps more flashy than macabre, and the "Songe d'une nuit du sabbat" less spooky but suitably dramatic. Nice cheeky woodwinds, above the turbulence in the orchestra : almost cinematic in impact.
Part of the reason that Lélio does not get performed as often as it deserves to be is that the role of Lélio, the composer, is central to its execution. Getting Lélio right is tricky. I've heard the part done in English, with RADA-style self-consciousness, but that didn't work for me, at all. The Shakespeare Berlioz heard in early 19th century Paris wasn't the Shakespeare of late 19th/early 20th century London, but freer, wilder hybrid. Shakespeare carried no cultural baggage for continental European audiences in Berlioz's time. Berlioz saw Roméo et Juliette in the Garrick version of the play brought to Paris in 1827 by Charles Kemble, where Berlioz met and became infatuated with Harriet Smithson, who may represent the elusive muse that inspires the artist in Berlioz to extremes of agony and ecstasy. In an age before close-ups and amplification, theatre practice would have to have been more exaggerated than we're used to now. Perhaps Berlioz, a theatre critic, intuited that good orchestral writing had the potential to express feelings in greater complexity than most actors at the time were able to project, given the technological limitations of the time.
In Lélio, the artist is a composer who, having experienced the annihilation of Symphonie fantastique finds "Le retour à la vie" in a new "Épisode de la vie d'un artiste ... en cinq parties". Since the piece is a dramatic monologue, interspersed by songs and orchestral interludes, more rests on the speaker than might be in less literary works. Martinon's Lélio was Jean Topart, a French movie star, who delivered his lines effectively. Jordan's Lélio is Jean-Philippe Lafont, an opera singer, which makes a difference, since there is a musical quality in the text, which a narrator with a feel for music can bring out. I still prefer Roth's Michael Fau, who is more uninhibited, closer perhaps to the wild abandon that the highly coloured text seems to inspire, yet also understands the innate musicality in the lines. Both Jordan and Roth have Florian Sempey for the baritone part, who is excellent, but Jordan has the incomparable Cyrille Dubois, who may not be well known outside Europe but is greatly respected. Dubois has a clear, high tessitura employed with agility, truly idiomatic in this highly specialized repertoire. Though the tenor part is relatively limited, Dubois steals the show ! This is a good performance all round, but Dubois is so outstanding that this is worth getting just to hear how wonderfully the part can be done.
This recording, with Jordan and an extremely good pair of soloists, would be a top recommendation were it not for the recent Symphonie fantastique and Lélio with François-Xavier Roth and Les Siècles, which sets new standards of excellence. Please read more about that HERE. That said, this new recording, with Jordan and the Wiener Symphoniker has a great deal going for it. It's very different from Roth/Les Siècles, but well worth hearing on its own terms.
A very stylish Symphonie fantastique , Jordan making the most of the Wiener Symphoniker's poise and elegance. In "Rêveries" one might call the keening string lines a "Sensucht" motif : "reverie", or longing, has no national boundaries. The idéé fixe is thus framed in a context that fits in with the orchestra's strengths, the "sweetness" in the strings laced with melancholy. As the pace picks up, the sound is fuller, yet still driven by almost manic impulse. The waltz in "Le Bal" is particularly suited to an orchestra based in Vienna : Jordan shapes the figures so they seem to whirl round, the way dancers move gaily, but in strict formation. Again the idée fixe reminds us that time cannot stand still. A lovely introduction to the "Scène aux champs", the dialogue between cor anglais and oboe reflecting the sense that fulfilment might be elusive. With modern instruments, the "March au supplice" is perhaps more flashy than macabre, and the "Songe d'une nuit du sabbat" less spooky but suitably dramatic. Nice cheeky woodwinds, above the turbulence in the orchestra : almost cinematic in impact.
Part of the reason that Lélio does not get performed as often as it deserves to be is that the role of Lélio, the composer, is central to its execution. Getting Lélio right is tricky. I've heard the part done in English, with RADA-style self-consciousness, but that didn't work for me, at all. The Shakespeare Berlioz heard in early 19th century Paris wasn't the Shakespeare of late 19th/early 20th century London, but freer, wilder hybrid. Shakespeare carried no cultural baggage for continental European audiences in Berlioz's time. Berlioz saw Roméo et Juliette in the Garrick version of the play brought to Paris in 1827 by Charles Kemble, where Berlioz met and became infatuated with Harriet Smithson, who may represent the elusive muse that inspires the artist in Berlioz to extremes of agony and ecstasy. In an age before close-ups and amplification, theatre practice would have to have been more exaggerated than we're used to now. Perhaps Berlioz, a theatre critic, intuited that good orchestral writing had the potential to express feelings in greater complexity than most actors at the time were able to project, given the technological limitations of the time.
In Lélio, the artist is a composer who, having experienced the annihilation of Symphonie fantastique finds "Le retour à la vie" in a new "Épisode de la vie d'un artiste ... en cinq parties". Since the piece is a dramatic monologue, interspersed by songs and orchestral interludes, more rests on the speaker than might be in less literary works. Martinon's Lélio was Jean Topart, a French movie star, who delivered his lines effectively. Jordan's Lélio is Jean-Philippe Lafont, an opera singer, which makes a difference, since there is a musical quality in the text, which a narrator with a feel for music can bring out. I still prefer Roth's Michael Fau, who is more uninhibited, closer perhaps to the wild abandon that the highly coloured text seems to inspire, yet also understands the innate musicality in the lines. Both Jordan and Roth have Florian Sempey for the baritone part, who is excellent, but Jordan has the incomparable Cyrille Dubois, who may not be well known outside Europe but is greatly respected. Dubois has a clear, high tessitura employed with agility, truly idiomatic in this highly specialized repertoire. Though the tenor part is relatively limited, Dubois steals the show ! This is a good performance all round, but Dubois is so outstanding that this is worth getting just to hear how wonderfully the part can be done.
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