A1
ELGAR Introduction and Allegro, op. 47.¹ Symphony No. 1 • Edward Gardner, cond; ¹Doric Str Qrt; BBC SO • CHANDOS 5181 (Download: 65 20) Reviewed from a WAV download: 44.1 kHz/16-bit
If I were to make a list of symphonies that have the most arrestingly beautiful and memorable openings, Elgarʼs Symphony No. 1 would surely be on it and likely very near the top. I canʼt think of another composer who wrote anything so “English”- sounding since Handel, who, technically speaking, wasnʼt English. The late biographer and music critic Michael Kennedy said of this symphony, it was “not only Elgarʼs first symphony, it was Englandʼs,” a view that reflected the long-held and completely unfounded claim that England was a musical wasteland between Handel and Elgar. In the processional march that opens the work, Elgar captured to perfection the essence of Englishness—the grand vs. the grandiose, the ceremonial vs. the ceremonious, the imperial vs. the imperious, and the pomp vs. the pompous.
But I have to begin my review of this performance with a question about tempo that has long perplexed me. Steven Kruger, in a 39 6 review of Daniel Barenboimʼs recent recording of the symphony with the Staatskapelle Berlin, states that the conductorʼs timing of 51 minutes is the norm. Now, I havenʼt heard the Barenboim performance, but I have heard and am familiar with quite a few others (all of which Iʼve had and/or heard at one time or another over the years), and here are their overall timings, given from slowest to fastest:
If you consider just these 16 performances, Krugerʼs norm of 51 minutes isnʼt far off; the average is 51 55, which places Handley and Previn closest to the mean, but thatʼs only because the fastest four—Boult twice, Solti, and Elgar himself— skew the mean further down the chart. If you exclude those four, the average goes up to 53 27, and therein lies the question about tempo alluded to above.
What I donʼt understand about the present Gardner performance, not to mention most of the others on this list, is how they manage to turn Elgarʼs tempo marking of Andante nobilmente e semplice, and a metronome indication of 72 to the quarter-note, into a languorous Largo. Unless my metronome is way off, Gardnerʼs beat hovers between 58 and 59 to the quarter-note; Previnʼs is right at 56; Andrew Davisʼs is between 54 and 55, and Haitinkʼs is right at 52. Gardner is the fastest of the slows in the first three minutes of the score, and by the time he gets to the end of it, he has indeed beaten Previn by a nose—39 seconds—Haitink by a kilometer —over two and half minutes—and Andrew Davis by a mile—well over three minutes.
What Iʼm curious to know is when and why it seems to have become the consensus view and accepted practice to take the opening Andante so much slower than indicated. Itʼs evident from Elgarʼs own recording of the piece in 1931, followed by Boultʼs 1949 and 1976 versions, and Soltiʼs 1972 recording, that they adopted fairly brisk tempos. Now, one could argue that Elgar had no choice, that he was obliged by the electrical recording technology of the day to adopt swifter tempos or even make cuts in order to accommodate the playing times of the 78- rpm shellac discs. But I doubt that would have been an issue with Boultʼs 1949 recording, and for sure not with his 1976 recording or Soltiʼs 1972 recording. None of the four breaks the 50-minute barrier, and in Elgarʼs performance and Boultʼs 1976 version, theyʼre way under it.
Moving up one entry on the list to Gardner—remember, they get slower as you go up the list—he is the first to exceed the 50-minute barrier, but heʼs the fastest of what Iʼm calling the slows, which, in my opinion, means that while still a bit too lumbering in the opening Andante for my taste, he allies himself rather more closely with Boult and Solti—and by nexus probably with Elgar—than he does with the really slow—or expansive, if you like—at the top of the list, Bryden Thomson, Sinopoli, and the two Davises, Colin and Andrew.
This has been a rather long and arduous road traveled to arrive at my conclusion, which is that Gardnerʼs Elgar First may be the best new version to come down the pike since Soltiʼs, and thatʼs saying something, considering the critically well- received recent arrivals by Andrew Davis and Sakari Oramo. But thereʼs more to Gardnerʼs reading than his tempos, which seem at least to be leaning in the direction that Elgar and Boult would have found comfortable.
The opening Andante is more than your run-of-the-mill slow introduction. Itʼs a motto theme or leitmotif that threads its way through the entire work, lending elements of cyclic structure to the macroform and elements of metamorphic variations to the microform. Itʼs easily identified when it recurs in more or less unaltered form midway through the first movement and in its glorious, triumphant transformation at the symphonyʼs end, but it can be more difficult for the ear to pick it out when the theme fragments into bits and pieces that crash into each other in a state of excitation, as in a linear accelerator.
Much of the work hangs in a precarious balance between the forces of good and evil, two sides of the same coin forged in the opening Andante. This is where Gardnerʼs reading excels like none other Iʼve heard. For once, even in those moments of greatest conflict, where dissonant clashes, violent orchestral outbursts, and the armies of darkness rise up to extinguish the light, Gardner makes us distinctly aware of the struggle of those disunited bits and pieces to come together and eventually triumph over the darkness in a blaze of glory, as they will in the end. The amazing thing about this performance is that even in the workʼs most seemingly chaotic moments we never lose earshot of the thematic motif at its core, nor where it came from and where itʼs headed. Gardnerʼs handling of the orchestra lays it all bare. Together with Gardner, the BBC Symphony Orchestra gives us Elgarʼs First Symphony in all its magnificent malevolence and magnanimity.
I donʼt think Iʼm saying anything original in noting that Elgarʼs First Symphony, completed in 1908, makes much the same journey, and by much the same route, from travail to exultation as Sibeliusʼs Second Symphony, completed six years earlier. Both works present with similar emotional and psychological profiles. I donʼt believe, however, that Elgar heard Sibeliusʼs Second before composing his own First Symphony, but I do wonder if the intense feelings of national pride and hope conveyed by both scores, even if arrived at by somewhat different compositional methods and techniques, explain why the English were so receptive to Sibeliusʼs music.
Three years before the First Symphony was born, Elgar was approached by August Jaeger, the music publisher and encrypted Nimrod in the composerʼs Enigma Variations, about writing a piece for the recently established London Symphony Orchestra. Elgar responded with the Introduction and Allegro for string quartet and string orchestra. The intent was to showcase the virtuosity of the newly formed orchestraʼs string sections. As I understand from my reading, however, Elgarʼs work, with its multi-layered writing and fugal episode, is quite difficult, and the virtuosity of the string players in those early days of the LSO was none too dazzling. That, it has been suggested, may account for the fact that it took some time and improvements in performance standards for the piece to catch on. No technical challenges are beyond the string players of todayʼs LSO or of the highly acclaimed Doric String Quartet, whose recent recording of Schubertʼs G-Major String Quartet (No. 15) I strongly recommended in the last issue (40 6). So, sit back, listen, and prepare to be dazzled.
Regular readers will know how impressed I was by Edward Gardnerʼs recent Mendelssohn cycle with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra. This Elgar release further enhances and confirms Gardnerʼs standing, in my opinion, as one of todayʼs major maestros on the world stage. Jerry Dubins
This article originally appeared in Issue 41 1 (Sept/Oct 2017) of Fanfare Magazine. Bryden Thomson London PO 1985 57 06 Giuseppe Sinopoli Philharmonia 1990 55 17 Colin Davis London SO 2001 54 48 Andrew Davis Philharmonia 2007 54 23 John Barbirolli Philharmonia 1962 53 43 Bernard Haitink Philharmonia 1983 53 41 Leonard Slatkin London PO 1989 53 07 Sakari Oramo Royal Stockholm 2012 52 33 PO Richard Hickox BBC Natl O Wales 2006 52 04 Vernon Handley London PO 1984 52 03 André Previn Royal PO 1985 51 43 Edward Gardner BBC SO 2016 51 04 Adrian Boult London PO 1949 48 58 Georg Solti London PO 1972 48 43 Edward Elgar London SO 1931 46 30 Adrian Boult BBC SO 1976 45 05 Bryden Thomson London PO 1985 57 06 Giuseppe Sinopoli Philharmonia 1990 55 17 Colin Davis London SO 2001 54 48 Andrew Davis Philharmonia 2007 54 23 John Barbirolli Philharmonia 1962 53 43 Bernard Haitink Philharmonia 1983 53 41 Leonard Slatkin London PO 1989 53 07 Sakari Oramo Royal Stockholm 2012 52 33 PO Richard Hickox BBC Natl O Wales 2006 52 04 Vernon Handley London PO 1984 52 03 André Previn Royal PO 1985 51 43 Edward Gardner BBC SO 2016 51 04 Adrian Boult London PO 1949 48 58 Georg Solti London PO 1972 48 43 Edward Elgar London SO 1931 46 30 Adrian Boult BBC SO 1976 45 05
ELGAR Introduction and Allegro, op. 47.¹ Symphony No. 1 • Edward Gardner, cond; ¹Doric Str Qrt; BBC SO • CHANDOS 5181 (Streaming audio: 65 20) https:// www.naxosmusiclibrary.com/catalogue/item.asp?cid=CHSA5181
A new Elgar First from Edward Gardner turns out to be more seductive than I expected. Itʼs the easy listening version. Now that I have your full attention, let me explain even more oddly—I mean this as a compliment.
It wasnʼt so long ago we would have been grateful for any LP of Elgarʼs symphony at all. It was unknown in America until John Barbirolli and the Philharmonia hit record bins around 1966. We were fortunate in that performance. It established Elgarʼs greatness here. Barbirolliʼs LP remains today a monument: stately, confident, gentle…. Soon to follow was Georg Solti, finding in the composerʼs own early recording an edgy neurotic tension, wired and jumpy. Over the years, numerous conductors filled in the gaps between those interpretive extremes—and even established new dimensions beyond them. Most recently, Sakari Oramo and his Royal Stockholm Philharmonic on BIS seem to have mined a sweet spot between dignified uplift and darkest struggle. But Daniel Barenboim and the Berlin Staatskapelle have gone further, bringing us the work as a black hole—beyond mere darkness. There is now an Elgar First Symphony CD for every taste, it would seem, including Roger Norringtonʼs. He leads it like a concerto grosso by Handel- of-the-undead. Youʼd think that would cover all bases.
But whatʼs this about seduction? Very simple. Edward Gardner brings us the missing approach, the one we didnʼt know was missing. He conducts the symphony with affection and simple beauty—but entirely without tragedy. There is no menace in Gardnerʼs Elgar, whatsoever. This is exceptionally easy to listen to. And it doesnʼt sound lightweight. Itʼs actually a swift performance with plenty of excitement, lots of easy refinement and lovely quiet playing—but little sadness— and certainly no neurosis or depression. It doesnʼt shriek at you. Given Chandosʼs luscious sound, Iʼm struck by how well it works to pretend the piece lies somewhere between Mendelssohn and Vincent dʼIndy. A tremolo is just a diaphanous breath of wind, a woodwind over strings the pleasant sighting of a bird.
Gardner sets out at a finely judged pace and marches off cheerfully. Itʼs a golden, propulsive beginning, followed by a swift, but not-overstrained Allegro. Gardnerʼs timpanist has just the right amount of suppressed violence to keep things interesting. The scherzo comes across deft and almost Mendelssohnian. Like many performances of this movement, itʼs a touch too swift at the climaxes, blurring the timpani and turning cymbal crashes into sneezes. But thereʼs a sweetness in it thatʼs gentle and natural, “down by the river,” the way Elgar said he wanted. The BBC Symphony, I should stress, plays flawlessly and easily throughout, nowhere more subtly than in the slow movement, where a breathless quiet counts for a lot. Listeners who like consoling moments will love what Gardner does at the end of the last movement development: this is the passage which transforms the motto theme over harps into lapping waves of sighs. Here, itʼs a lover leaning quietly against your ear.
I donʼt mean, by the way, to ignore fine work by the Doric Quartet in Elgarʼs Introduction and Allegro, the second piece included on the CD. In these hands, it begins with slashing energy but soon settles down to romance. There is no contrarian view of this music, so far as I know. This performance is a lovely as any you will find. Edward Gardner is a hard conductor to pin down, sometimes—heʼs so normal, you wonder if he has a point of view. But thereʼs something to be said for performing a score for simple diatonic beauty—even one so laden with chromatic torment and national portent as the Elgar First. Steven Kruger
This article originally appeared in Issue 41 1 (Sept/Oct 2017) of Fanfare Magazine.
ELGAR Symphony No. 2. Serenade for Strings • Edward Gardner, cond; BBC SO • CHANDOS 5197 (SACD: 66 43)
Itʼs rare to find four critics in agreement, but Steven Kruger, Huntley Dent, Ronald Grames, and I all had good things to say about Edward Gardnerʼs performance of Elgarʼs Symphony No. 1 in 41 1, expressing opinions that diverged only in degrees of praise.
Gardner has wasted no time in following up his Elgar First with this equally fine account of the composerʼs Symphony No. 2 and Serenade for Strings. If my enthusiasm for Gardnerʼs recording of Elgarʼs Second Symphony is a bit muted, itʼs entirely due to my own response to the music, which I find less graspable due to its somewhat tonal ambiguity and organizational complexity. As with much of Elgarʼs music, there are grand, sweeping outpourings of passion, tempered by moments of almost unbearable feelings of loss and nostalgia for a past that was and for things that might have been. But the composer doesnʼt speak as directly as he does in his First Symphony, and the triumph at the end is equivocal at best. The quiet major-key ending leaves one unsettled and unsure as to whether to feel consoled or dejected. Iʼm reminded of Simon Rattleʼs description of the ending of Sibeliusʼs Seventh Symphony: “Itʼs the most depressed C Major in all of musical literature,” Rattle writes. “Thereʼs no other piece that ends in C Major where you feel itʼs the end of the world.” I donʼt hear the ending of Elgarʼs Second Symphony in quite that way, but thereʼs an ambivalence to it that feels unresolved. In any case, these are just my personal and subjective reactions to the work. If numbers of recordings are a measure of popularity, however—and they usually are —I may not be entirely alone in my less than passionate embrace of the score, for it appears that fewer conductors have taken it up than have taken up the Symphony No. 1. There are, of course, the usual Elgar exponents—Barbirolli, Boult, Solti, Previn, the Davises (Colin and Andrew), and one or two others. And more recently, there have been well-received recordings by Sakari Oramo and Vasily Petrenko.
Edward Gardner now joins these recent contenders with a reading that I think is going to be hard to beat. If you love this symphony, Iʼm confident that Gardner and the BBC Symphony Orchestra will not disappoint. I am going to leave the more detailed reviews of this release to those of my colleagues who are likely to be more receptive to the work than I am, for I donʼt feel invested enough it to be able to make meaningful comparisons among the various versions. They will no doubt provide more in-depth analysis of the performance vis-à-vis other recordings. This much I can and will say, though: the sound of Chandosʼs SACD, which I received as a physical disc, is truly spectacular. Jerry Dubins
This article originally appeared in Issue 42 2 (Nov/Dec 2018) of Fanfare Magazine. ELGAR Symphony No. 2. Serenade for Strings • Edward Gardner, cond; BBC SO • CHANDOS 5197 (Streaming audio: 66 43) https:// www.naxosmusiclibrary.com/catalogue/item.asp?cid=chsa5197
Here is yet another gleaming, luxurious set of performances from Edward Gardner and the BBC Symphony, flawlessly recorded for Chandos in the Watford Colosseum. Gardner has brought us galvanizing interpretations of the Walton symphonies with these forces and more recently his serene take on the Elgar First, which I reviewed in Fanfare 41 1. Iʼm happy to say this release is as enjoyable as the others and utterly consistent in its point of view and sonic quality. If you enjoyed the earlier recordings Gardner has made of English music, you will like this one.
Edward Gardner is a remarkably un-neurotic conductor. Thatʼs the key to him. One looks elsewhere for moroseness in Elgar, to Daniel Barenboim, perhaps. But for straightforward beauty and high energy, it would be hard to find a more knowing interpreter. Gardnerʼs special talent is for not boring the listener. His performances move along at the swift edge of normal, with a slithery surface elision from the brass that reminds me a bit of the feverish sonority Solti used to seek in Chicago, just a bit glib and hard to get under the surface, while at the same time lingering just enough for slow music to avoid trivializing it. Gardner is not a time beater. This does not sound like an Elgar Second led by Pierre Boulez or George Szell (well, perish the thought!). At 54 minutes, Gardner brings the symphony in at about the same timing as Sakari Oramo and only two minutes faster than Daniel Barenboim, who predictably evokes the end of the world in his slow movement funeral for the bon-vivant King Edward VII.
A special beauty in this new performance is the viola/cello register, which Chandos lays out at a slight distance to seduce and mystify and beguile. The eerie moments at the center of Elgarʼs first movement are gorgeous here. There is something about the carpet of bass sound Watford Colosseum can produce which encourages breathless quiet and a sense of subtlety. You realize here that the BBC Symphony is far more than just a good orchestra. And you are ruefully reminded that London still does not have a first-class concert venue. One is grateful these performances do not emanate from the mattress-warehouse stage of Festival Hall or the Barbicanʼs furry coat closet.
There are several benchmark tests for listeners in the Elgar Second. Does the scherzoʼs pounding conclusion successfully evoke a migraine headache, for instance? Here, thatʼs a definite check-mark for “yes.” Does the finaleʼs long- limbed melody evoke sufficient sense of nobility? Again, a check-mark, though one could argue it ends up a bit fast, and perhaps a slower approach would have given the horns within the tune more time for nobilmente. Allʼs well in the rapt coda, though, expansive, barely audible at times, and deeply moving.
Itʼs difficult to recall that this symphony would have once been unknown stateside, but I do. John Barbirolli brought the work to Boston in the late 1960s. My own reaction was simple disbelief at the quality of the music. I could hardly credit my ears. Elgar has come into his own fully in the decades since, no apologies needed. And that includes the early, charmingly late Victorian Serenade for Strings, played here simply and beautifully. This is a splendid release. Recording the BBC Symphony in Watford Colosseum makes for an ideal soundstage. And Edward Gardner may just be Britainʼs next Adrian Boult. Steven Kruger
This article originally appeared in Issue 42 1 (Sept/Oct 2018) of Fanfare Magazine.