Respighi: Pines of Rome; Belkis, Queen of Sheba; Dance of the Gnomes

Reference Recordings RR-95CD

Playing Time: 67:06

David Aspinall

We have reason to rejoice, I suppose, that the CD revolution has brought about an opposite result from the predictions of the pessimists. You will remember (that is, if you've been reading the audiophile press as long as I have - these 20 years) that many voiced a fear that the CD would squeeze the recorded repertoire to a fatal thinness compared to the wide range of music available in the LP era. Well, even before Naxos, with their ridiculous combination of fantastic price and catalog breadth, made fools of even the most cynical of the musical critics of capitalism, the latter had long already been proved wrong. The unexampled richness and extension of the now available repertoire has more than made up for the still determinedly redundant major labels who will redo the Tchaikovsky 1st Piano Concerto or even the Mahler 4th Symphony 'till, I assume, the composers rise boldly to protest that moldy tradition.

Which brings us to the Reference Respighi. As is that label's wont, there is economic hedging of bets, here welcome. For along with the standard audiophile test piece (Pines) we have two Respighi rarities, which will ensure, I hope, the continued prosperity of the label by attracting the non-audiophile connoisseur of complete works. In short, the kind of customer who used to keep Vox/Turnabout and Nonesuch alive. I am blessed to have lived so long to see the day when today's major labels should habitually beat about the bushes of the repertoire's furthest reaches to find works worthy and, yes, unworthy upon which to bet their futures.

This Respighi offering brings us, if not quite the unworthy, some decidedly mediocre music as well as the considerable delight of new discovery. When Ottorino loved what he was describing in sound, we get some unforgettable audio pictures. As with the Roman trilogy. But when our composer can't get by with his kaleidoscope of colour effects, and has to respond with heart as well as eye, he often flounders. That is the case in the Dance of the Gnomes. It was one of our best filmmusic critics, if I remember correctly, who once described Miklos Rozsa's 'biblical' scores (Quo Vadis, Ben-Hur, King of Kings etc.) as 'sub-Respighi'. I suspect he meant that more as a slap at Respighi than a knock at Rozsa, whose film noir scores he openly admires. But, to be blunt, as much as I love much of Rozsa, comparing him to a master of orchestral effects is beside any musical point. Rozsa's 'biblical' scores, and for that matter, none of his scores (not even The Thief of Baghdad) depend on colour and spectacular orchestration to make their effect. Rozsa is at his best when he lays heart on sleeve, Respighi when he shows off his tone painter's palette.

In the Belkis suite, the recorded remnant of what was once a complete theatrical evening, we have moments of the luscious orchestration for which Respighi is best known. We also have, in the War Dance and Orgiastic Dance, goodish examples of the bombast, which, we trust, inspired the Rozsa comparison. Well-crafted, ingenious at times - and about as deep as an ashtray. Here, however, Prof. Johnson's 24-bit technology gets to strut its stuff. Those who measure their pleasure primarily by sonic fidelity to the original source will be in raptures. I even confess to a frisson or two, despite some mysterious guilt feelings even in mid-frisson.

Gnomes, however, is not much, even on the showpiece level. Since we don't know a lot about the interior life of gnomes, Respighi is thrown back completely on technique, and his descriptive powers can't even draw upon the remembered pleasures of the Appian Way or Trevi fountain for inspiration. The recording, as in the climactic performance of Pines of Rome, is spectacular indeed. But I must admit, finally having some reference points outside Reference itself, I was not bowled over. The revered Reiner performance, for me, is both more vivid and much more magical to boot. Even the interpolated nightingale is sweeter. I also find more sonic immediacy, if somewhat less magic, in the Dorati/Minnesota performance on Mercury. Then there are Karajan (DG), Ormandy (Columbia), Kertesz, Munch and Dutoit (all London/Decca), even Toscanini on a restricted RCA - some hardly as truthful as recordings, but offering various compensations which, for this listener, are more than a trade off for this safe, capable and utterly unnecessary performance.

Nevertheless, over all this is a valuable CD: for its uniqueness (the Geoffrey Simon Chandos performance, also fine, is the only other version of Belkis I've heard), as well for the fidelity both of Oue's performances and the recorded sound.

[To hear an @udiophilia.com interview with Prof. Johnson, click on Real Audio Keith Johnson @ CES - Ed]