The Nielsen Nexus

[J.Z. Herrenberg]

(From the Listening thread)

Nielsen, Symphony No. 1 (Jensen, historic)

Excellent performance (LP) from 1952, lovingly restored and uploaded by fellow member Otterhouse. Be quick to download it here:


http://docent.cmd.hro.nl/otter/

[DavidW]

Isn't the Rhapsody Overture simply wonderful?

[Joe Barron]

Had an unexpected treat this morning while driving to work. WPRB, the Princeton Radio station, broadcast the wonderful Wind Quintet. I'm going to have a long day at the office today, and this work really put me in a good frame of mind.

[Tomo]

Had an unexpected treat this morning while driving to work. WPRB, the Princeton Radio station, broadcast the wonderful Wind Quintet. I'm going to have a long day at the office today, and this work really put me in a good frame of mind.

Hope it all worked out as hoped for at the office today, Joe.  Taking your experience as a guiding light and given that becoming somewhat up to speed on Nielsen is my current drive, I will, as soon as I'm done listening to his symphony, listen to the Wind Quintet and his concertos for Flute and Clarinet.  So far, my favorites are his Nos. 4 and 5 and the second movement of his sixth.

[Joe Barron]

the second movement of his sixth.

That's a crazy piece. It sounds almost like a parody of Varese.

[Guido]

What does the title Proposta Seria of the third movement of the 6th symphony mean? I think the 6th is turning out to be my favourite.

[The new erato]

Serious Proposition.

[Guido]

Cheers!

[The new erato]

New disc of unknown works. Anybody know anything about the discs or the works?



Here's from the blurb:

Cantatas

Chorus of the Danish National Opera
Aarhus Cathedral Choir, Vox Aros
Jens Albinus
Ditte Højgaard Andersen
Mathias Hedegaard
Palle Knudsen

Aarhus Symphony Orchestra / Bo Holten, Thomas Søndergård

There are still unknown, exciting sides to Denmark's world-famous composer, Carl Nielsen (1865-1931). On this CD you can hear the premiere recordings of two of his cantatas for choir, soloists and orchestra. The cantatas were written in 1908-09, when Carl Nielsen was in one of his most productive phases. They have been performed several times since, but it is only in connection with the new collected edition of Nielsen's works that they have appeared in print.

[J.Z. Herrenberg]

What does the title Proposta Seria of the third movement of the 6th symphony mean? I think the 6th is turning out to be my favourite.

Serious Proposition.

[The new erato]

Serious Proposition.

Serious Proposition.

Nice to see we agree!   

[J.Z. Herrenberg]

Nice to see we agree!  

Oops! Overlooked that... 

[Moldyoldie]

[Pasted from WAYLT]


Nielsen: Symphony No. 4 "The Inextinguishable"
Scriabin: Poem of Ecstasy
Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra
Zubin Mehta, cond.
DECCA ELOQUENCE
I've read professional reviews of this performance of Carl Nielsen's "Inextinguishable" from the '70s with scornful one-word descriptions such as "superficial" and "extrovert".  The reviewer in the Third Ear Guide proclaims "the floor has been littered with recording failures" before summarily dismissing Mehta as if it illustrates his point.  The Penguin Guide states Mehta "fails to penetrate the music's fullest depths and disclose all its subtleties."  Robert Layton in The Gramophone calls it a "well-played, well-recorded but superficial account."    Upon first hearing, I, too, was somewhat taken aback by Mehta's headlong and seemingly impetuous tempos, especially in the poco allegretto second movement, which here sounds as if it's played more a tempo with the rocket-propelled allegro opening of the symphony, merely softer (I'm perhaps exaggerating to make a point). However, coming to this with fresh ears, purposely freed of notions of what this great symphony represents and how it should be rendered, makes for a truly exhilarating listening experience!  Mehta never slams on the brakes as is often heard, but skillfully adjusts dynamics while subtly bringing tempos to bear.

Is it "superficial" to dauntlessly render Nielsen's  wonderful and powerful wartime rhetoric as a single headlong unified statement?  In this case, I certainly think not.

Hearing this performance, I was instantly reminded of the captain in The Sand Pebbles played by Richard Crenna, who in his frustration in being militarily shackled by the dictates of his superiors while sensing the simmering and ominous threat of his increasingly restless crew, feigns wireless failure with HQ and proclaims: "We will make one last savage thrust deep into China -- and if the San Pablo dies, she dies clean."   The San Pablo, of course, doesn't die and neither does Mehta's Nielsen Fourth. Instead, it resounds with an inexorable life force that's nothing if not "inextinguishable".  Invoking another allusion, instead of Marlow (or Capt. Willard, if you prefer) piercing deep into Conrad's heart of darkness, this performance is a brazen repudiation of its very existence!

Appended is a late '60s performance of Alexander Scriabin's Poem of Ecstasy, a work from the first decade of the 20th century that bears many marks of Debussy, but shimmers with its own eroto-exotic passions and musical language.  It's become a personal favorite -- its persistent trumpet wailing forth above the shimmering orchestral fray as affectingly, but certainly more consistently and resoundingly, as that wonderful trombone in Sibelius' Seventh Symphony, a similarly uninterrupted, but more varied statement of similar length.  This is a beautifully played and recorded performance, perhaps even more vividly recorded than that of the later Nielsen recording.

[drogulus]

Except that there is a good case to be made for the perception of Sibelius's greatness (there is actual greatness there, of course, but it's the old if a tree falls in the forest and no one hears, does it make a sound? parable) depending on international connections that he made during his career, and the consequent distribution of his work;  where Nielsen did not have occasion to "export" during his lifetime, perhaps.  The jbuck argument would go, "Obviously Sibelius is greater, because more people acknowledge his greatness, and time and the majority Can't Be Wrong" . . . though, as I say, this presupposes that the circumstances that Nielsen's music has not penetrated to a broader audience "mean" that he is a composer "inferior" to Sibelius.

     I have no problem deriving actual greatness* from perceived greatness when you add 2 features to the mix:

     1) Popularity within affinity groups (popsters don't bother adjudicating greatness outside their area of interest). Worrying about the influence of the uncommitted is not necessary. They don't care so you don't care. And if you don't care about jazz, jazzers won't pay much attention to what you think, if they should ever come to discover what that is.

     2) Greatness = Popularity over time, so it never gets decided, a race that's never over. Another way to look at it is Greatness = Metapopularity.

     The alternative, greatness no one gets to decide, is the hard one for me. How exactly do you decide something that in principle is beyond decision? One can submit a dispute to arbitration according to fixed criteria of merit, but the choice of criteria can't itself be fixed. History says there's always another way of being great. You might even go so far as to conclude that this is the point of modernism in the arts, that no objective criterion ever has the last word. It certainly would be consistent with my often-stated view that art consists in the effect it produces for a receptive consciousness and not a collection of objects. It ought to be hard, therefore, to decide both what greatness is and who has it in a convincing way, and I note that it is.

      Right now I'm preparing the Schmidt symphony cycle to take to work tonight.

     _{* I didn't put it quotes! What's wrong with me?}

[karlhenning]

Good addenda, Ernie.

[Moldyoldie]

A reassessment (pasted from WAYLT)...


Nielsen: Symphony No. 4 "Inextinguishable"
Sibelius: Tapiola
Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra
Herbert von Karajan, cond.
DEUTSCHE GRAMMOPHON
Frankly, I find Karajan's Nielsen No. 4 with the BPO from the early '80s to be a bit underwhelming, but hardly worthy of out-and-out dismissal. After a comparatively tepid burst out of the starting gate, the first movement grinds to near stasis before lumbering along for a protracted thirteen minutes, albeit with some sparkling soft magic, to its quiet segue into equally drawn-out second and third movements.  The poco allegretto second features some fine, stately chamber-like interplay among the winds while the nearly twelve minute poco adagio third movement puts the famous Berlin strings on full display.  The ensemble playing certainly sounds nice here, but it's an ameliorating consideration when this great symphony's dramatic cogency is so undermined by such polite and tidy pacing. While listening, I found myself admiring the orchestra more than being swept along by the drama.  The all-important tympani battles in the finale are also noticeably "civilized" and more recessed in the scheme; they're thus heard as semi-distant fusillades instead of rapid stereo punches to the solar plexus -- I suppose this may actually appeal to some listeners.

Despite misgivings as to Karajan's seemingly tame approach to what should be nothing less than a depiction of the triumph of Man's capacity for creative good over those forces which would usurp it, I do find the overall performance to lend an affecting reverence to the music not heard in many others -- once again, an ameliorating consideration.  In comparison, I find Simon Rattle's similarly deliberate approach to the Nielsen Fourth to be much more successful and satisfying. (Review to follow)

What's somewhat disconcerting is the early '80s digital recording which is noticeably steely and bass shy, but the recording scheme is consistent with Deutsche Grammophon's general approach with these forces; i.e., strings and winds are in the forefront.  More often than not, I've been able to adjust and appreciate it.  In matters of interpretation, however, and as a requisite imploration to novice listeners, introduce yourself to this great symphony through any of the many other fine recordings before hearing Karajan's.

Appended to the Nielsen is Karajan's very expansive last recording of Sibelius' late tone poem Tapiola from '84.  Though I'm a big fan of the composer, this is not my favorite Sibelius.  Still, Karajan and the BPO manage to wring every last ounce of brooding emotion from the score in a performance seemingly driven more by mythic ambience than epic drama.  It's funny in that some days I really take to it, while other days....

[drogulus]

      Does the driver Rattle? _(badabump!)

      The 1st Symphony is reminiscent of Brahms, though a comparison with Dvorak might also be made.

[Moldyoldie]

On the subject of Inextinguishables that turn out better than you might expect, there's also this one:

From my Karajan bit:

In comparison, I find Simon Rattle's similarly deliberate approach to the Nielsen Fourth to be much more successful and satisfying. (Review to follow)

[drogulus]

Sorry.  Short attention span. 
Actually, it does.    Though it was the Shostakovich #4 shoot-out over Christmas that did something to the suspension, the CBSO tympani delivered the coup de grâce.

       Don't play Rattle's recording of Sinfonia da Requiem or it will stop rattling for good.

[Moldyoldie]

[Pasted from WAYLT]

Sibelius: Symphony No. 5*
Nielsen: Pan and Syrinx; Symphony No. 4 "The Inextinguishable"
Philharmonia Orchestra*
City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra
Simon Rattle, cond.
EMI
The young Simon Rattle of pre-knighthood was seemingly the cat's meow among British music critics throughout the '80s, a sensitive and often dynamic conductor whose recordings endeavored toward new benchmarks in much of the basic early modern repertoire.  Here from 1982 (the CD is a re-release from 1993) is Rattle's initial foray into recording Sibelius, the popular Symphony No. 5, and it became the most talked about recording of the work since Karajan's in the '60s.  Here ends the requisite dispensable history lesson.

Rattle and the Philharmonia deliver a well-prepared and wonderfully understated interpretation that forces one to re-think this popular symphony in terms which are mostly extra-musical; i.e., cerebrally, as if inside the head of a dual-faced Janus consisting of the young conductor and the dourly disposed composer himself, only looking at each other instead of oppositely!  Unlike Esa-Pekka Salonen's outright depressing recording with the same orchestra from a few years later, Rattle brings his own youthful intellect and optimism to bear on this fine music while effectively harnessing its more overtly dynamic attributes -- it's this latter consideration which may dissuade the novice listener and rebuff the seasoned one. A few listens, however, have brought me around.  I've become particularly taken by the wonderful play (and interplay) of the woodwinds heard throughout, as well as the purposely blatty brass which evoke the large fowl flying overhead in the Sibelian realm.  The big build in the coda to the first movement, one of the most thrilling moments in the entire repertoire for this listener, is rendered in a controlled manner and culminates not with a bang, not with a whimper, but merely as the end of the first part of a lengthier musical journey.  The pianissimo strings in the finale are on the very threshold of audibility (even through headphones!), in itself an ear-catching technical feat, but it still remains temporally and emotionally consistent with this well-played, well-articulated, and sensitive performance.  In my opinion, Bernstein and Karajan are the most effective in pulling out all the stops in all the right places in Sibelius No. 5 -- Rattle/Philharmonia is the antithesis, one I can now readily advocate as a fine alternative. I've read where Rattle's subsequent Sibelius No. 5 recording, part of his complete cycle with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, is appreciably different -- I've yet to hear it.

The Nielsen recordings here date from '85 during Rattle's prodigious stint with the Birmingham orchestra. Pan and Syrinx is a brief buffer between the main attractions --it's both evocative and powerful, especially the brooding cello and marvelous brass crescendo in the middle. In my limited experience with it, this is the most effective and entertaining performance I've heard. 

Rattle's rendition of the Symphony No. 4 "Inextinguishable" invites a special scrutiny among those who love this work.  I've read one critic describe the performance as "fussy", I suppose in reference to Rattle's tendency to deliberately fawn over certain details in sacrifice of momentum. As evidenced here, however, there's certainly much to love and fawn over.  It's true that Rattle takes the middle two movements of this seamless symphony at a pace that elicits a great deal of both loving detail and charm.  Where charm exists and flourishes, however, there's always a most effective countervailing aggression that follows -- this performance never wallows in sweetness and light.  The culminating, all-consuming tympani battle in the final movement is brought to bear with resolute meaning and results in an equally powerful victory, putatively of Man's capacity for creative good over those forces which would usurp it.  To my ears, Rattle's judgments and the orchestra's responses are much more effective than the likes of Karajan and Barbirolli in their likewise expansive and deliberative readings. Instead of "rattling" on, I'll conclude by saying that this lucid performance, as manifested by the young conductor's understanding of Nielsen's multi-fold wartime expression, is worth the "fuss"!