Copper has an exchange program with PMA magazine of Canada (and other publications), where we share articles, including this one.
Here are three discs I recommend for exploring the music of Johannes Brahms (1833-1897), a giant of German Romanticism who left us many masterpieces. The first two were released earlier this year and the third is among the best recordings I have heard in years. These three albums share an interpretative approach that sheds a uniquely bright light on the works offered.
The Inner Song
Brahms: The Symphonies
Yannick Nézet-Séguin, Chamber Orchestra of Europe
Deutsche Grammophon 4866000
The four Brahms Symphonies on this disc are part of the basic German repertoire, and most conductors want to leave a testimony to their vision. Over the past few decades, several versions have risen to the pantheon of great interpretations, so much so that critics and amateurs are eagerly awaiting anyone who aspires to stand out in this repertoire.
This brings me to the complete works offered by Quebec conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin with the Chamber Orchestra of Europe. Apparent from the first listen is the conductor’s desire to emphasize orchestral texture and the melodies underpinning the works. The conductor’s musical approach is somewhat similar to the aesthetic choices made for his photograph on the cover: that of a Brahms composed of velvety and rich tones, as well as an orchestral transparency that never lacks impact.
Knowing that it was the Chamber Orchestra of Europe, which usually consists of 40 to 50 musicians, I first listened to these complete works a few times without having read the booklet, but keeping in mind the very beautiful interpretation of these same symphonies that conductor Paavo Berglund performed with the same orchestra (Ondine). I was also reminded of the fascinating but very uneven version (with a catastrophic 4th Symphony) by John Eliot Gardiner (four discs, Soli Deo Gloria), who clearly showed to what extent Brahms’s Symphonies are undeniably imbued with the composer’s passion for Renaissance choral music.
In this “chamber orchestra” vein, Nézet-Séguin’s version impresses with its lack of rigidity and therefore its impression of suppleness. His Brahms is resolutely luminous. Reading the all-too-brief booklet (why did the publisher choose to tell us nothing about the size of the orchestra and the creative context of the compositions?), I was surprised to learn the number of musicians present: 52 for Symphonies Nos. 1 and 2 and 50 for Symphonies Nos. 3 and 4. This corresponds to the 49 musicians that Brahms used for the semi-private auditions at the court of Meiningen, when he was primarily seeking to test the effect of certain turns of phrase on the audience. I would have guessed I was hearing 60-65 musicians.
Nézet-Séguin has therefore managed to preserve a good part of the impact of the music, since the tradition is to play the Symphonies by emphasizing the orchestra’s mass and especially its density. Moreover, even if Nézet-Séguin’s vision does not shake up the classics – especially Karajan’s second version in Berlin (DG) and Haitink’s first version in Amsterdam (Philips), or the recent references, primarily Chailly’s second version in Leipzig (Decca), the Quebec conductor leaves us with a sublime version that we can enjoy listening to while telling ourselves that Brahms was perhaps lighter (or less heavy!) than we believed. The recording’s sound quality, endowed with a velvety texture, is in perfect harmony with the conductor’s interpretative choices. Magnificent!
An Auspicious Cello
Brahms: Cello Sonatas
Christian Poltéra and Ronald Brautigam
BIS-2427
If someone had told me that one day I was going to listen to Brahms’s two Cello Sonatas (op. 38 from 1862 – 1865 and op. 99 from 1886) on repeat to calm myself down, as I did last spring, I would have been skeptical. Not that these sonatas are depressing, on the contrary, but I have always found them a bit heavy, a prejudice I’ve had since I first heard these works, when I was trying to grasp the famous version by Rostropovich and Serkin (DG) when I began to fall in love with classical music. These two giants at the end of their careers had remained faithful to a certain image of the composer that I would describe as gloomy, in the sense of almost dark.
Here, in the version by Christian Poltéra and Ronald Brautigam, it is quite different. Of course, these conductors aren’t the first to put these sonatas in a warmer light than usual; for example, Wispelwey and Lazic delivered a convincing rendition (Channel) marked by energy and vigor. As for Poltéra and Brautigam, their version is characterized by freshness and spontaneity. These two excellent chamber musicians give us the impression that we’re attending an outdoor concert, set in a natural setting at the very beginning of autumn, when the sun has not yet spoken its last word.
The choice of instruments partly explains this sense of naturalness: Poltéra’s Stradivarius cello “Mara” (metal strings) and especially Brautigam’s sublime copy of a Streicher piano from 1868 (by the maker Paul McNulty) illuminate the two sonatas. Schumann’s Five Pieces in Folk Style, op. 102 fits perfectly between the two Brahms sonatas. In the end, this beautifully captured and mastered disc should delight the most demanding among us. If you like it, I suggest you also treat yourself to Mendelssohn’s works for cello and piano by the same performers, still at BIS.
Brilliant Sound
Brahms: Works for Choir and Orchestra
Philippe Herreweghe, Ann Hallenberg (mezzo), Collegium Vocale Gent, Orchestre des Champs-Élysées
Phi LPH 003
Warning: this record dropped the jaws of several of my audiophile friends, even those who were not necessarily big fans of classical music. Released in 2012, this is Philippe Herreweghe’s third record on Phi, his own label. The Belgian conductor has chosen sacred and secular works for choir and orchestra by Johannes Brahms, pieces that owe a lot to composers of the Renaissance and Baroque eras. The recording’s extremely natural and airy presentation bring to light the slightest nuances and playing techniques demanded by the conductor from the musicians and the choristers.
Herreweghe has worked hard at bringing out the orchestral textures to preserve the archaic polyphony of the works. As in his version of Bruckner’s Mass No. 3 (Harmonia Mundi), Herreweghe maintains the balance between the density of the orchestral mass and the transparency necessary to make certain complex passages intelligible. The famous Alto Rhapsodie, op. 53 perfectly illustrates this desire for clarity in the passages where mezzo Ann Hallenberg’s rich voice blends into the mass of male choristers. The other pieces on the programme – Schicksalslied, op. 54, Begräbnisgesang, op. 13, Gesang der Parzen, op. 89, and the superb a cappella motet Warum ist das Licht gegeben, op. 74 no. 1 – are equally accomplished. Even more so than the excellent John Eliot Gardiner’s much more demonstrative version of this corpus (Soli Deo Gloria), Herreweghe has achieved an exceptional synthesis between clarity of execution and orchestral mass.
Header image of Brahms courtesy public domain.
