The devil has all the
best tunes, or so he would have us believe. The repertoire on this
Reference Recordings release would not go far to further this bit of
Mephistophelean mythology. True, Moussorgsky gave us one of the
supreme examples of the orchestral miniature, and Dukas has kept his
name alive with the clever Sorcerer, but the other estimable
composers represented here register at something less than their best.
At the final assize, Satan definitely won't be winning Best Original
Score (although a case might be made for Special Effects).
My aesthetic
reservations may now be shelved. This CD does not exist because of its
spiritual depth. In as much as the devil's gift is
descriptive, let us judge these efforts on a more superficial level.
Apparently, Reference Recordings has no more elevated a motive than to
raspberry the audiophile cognoscenti. As with the recent Oue/Minnesota
Ports of Call and Pictures at an Exhibition, Mephisto
is a direct assault on the RCA 'Living Stereo' pantheon. With Ports
and Pictures, Oue took on Munch and Reiner. With Mephisto &
Co., Oue, like Lucifer of old, sets his sights on the throne of
the Most High - or most low, to be sonically specific - that renowned
woofer wower, Witches' Brew. When one of my audiophile
acquaintances sought to impress me with the spectacular verisimilitude
of his new audio system, the first album he dove for from among 20,000
LPs was this famous Alexander Gibson collection from 1958, the first
year of the Living Stereo era. And the first tweeter tweaker
on that album my proud friend played me was Malcolm Arnold's Tam
O'Shanter, which is one of four pieces the Gibson LP has in common
with this new Oue CD. Of course, by featuring Mephisto and
Bald Mountain, Oue has widened his sights to also include
Reiner (Festival) and Leibowitz (The Power of the
Orchestra).
A few generalities
which will better orient the audiophile: my middle-fi equipment gave
the Minnesota CD a more recessed image, resulting in, on the positive
side, a massive sound with plenty of body and considerable atmosphere.
On the negative side, the appointed ambiance means forte passages have
a homogenized quality, which stands in marked contrast to the
ultra-vivid presence of Gibson (for comparison I used the Classic
Records' LP reissue and the London SPA LP Danse Macabre,
which added Ansermet's Sorcerer). The soundstage immediacy
of the Gibson disentangles Arnold's complex textures, which can sound
like mayhem rather than music without the requisite inner clarity.
This Witches' Brew supplies it in spades. Its clinical wonders
were achieved in London's Kingsway Hall, with somewhat more detail but
a rather less bewitched atmosphere than Kenneth Wilkinson achieved at
the same venue. The RCA Arnold also benefits from the more natural
rasp of its dominating brass, which, unfortunately for Oue, do not
escape standard digital smearing. On the other hand, the more distant
setting of the Minnesota Orchestra creates an air of mystery greatly
enhancing the last section of Bald Mountain, most of Mephisto,
and all of the Dukas. In short, and measuring strictly on the basis of
sonic pleasure, I prefer the Reference CD in the quiet moments and the
RCA recording in the climaxes. (Back to higher aesthetic values: I
hope collectors who gleefully fork over $500.00+ for an original
pressing of Brew will not begrudge $15.00 or so for a much
stronger dose of diabolism - the Unicorn CD of Bernard Herrmann's The
Devil and Devil Webster - a.k.a. All That Money Can Buy).
Now to the performances
(do I hear a few audiophiliacs heading for a sandwich?). In Mephisto,Gibson
and Oue saw off on the action highlights, but both get creamed by
Reiner's Chicago wizards, who rip through the demonically difficult
introduction without taking a breath. Yet, I think Oue shapes Liszt's
delicious string swoons with more panache than either, especially
Gibson (For what one critic/contemporary of Liszt described as the "ne
plus ultra of weirdness and unbridled sensuality", swoons with
panache should be minimum requirement). Sorcerer has been
conducted more magically, but Oue out-apprentices Ansermet. The Danse
Macabre is fairly foolproof - no clear decision here. But Bare
Mountain needs more malevolence and ferocity than either Oue or
Dutoit (moderns given outstanding recordings) can muster. As
conductors go, they don't make pagans like they used to. Among those
who gave us a blacker Night: Leibowitz, Reiner, Markevitch and
Stokowski (in Fantasia and also Phase 4) - all get more demons
per decibel than their modern descendants. Among the moderns, only
Kunzel (on Telarc) has the necessary cast-off-all-restraints approach
(after all, isn't that the satanic essence?), and he uses Stokowski's
arrangement!
Reference Recordings
have hedged their bets by including some interesting addenda. Liszt's
alternate ending for Mephisto is here, Johann Strauss's Lucifer
Polka, Liadov's Baba Yaga and Franck's The Accursed
Huntsman (Le Chasseur Maudit). The latter, at 14+ minutes,
is the longest track. Though the Minnesotans try, Chasseur is,
alas, not top drawer César, frankly speaking.
Those who would hear
how personally Liszt related to the contest of good and evil should
try his Faust Symphony. Although it has received much more
attention over the past 15 years, Faust's analog history was
not distinguished. Beecham and Bernstein left us impassioned versions,
but considering the work's stature - and here I heartily endorse Jim
Svejda's judgment (in The Record Shelf Guide to the Classical
Repertoire) that it may be Liszt's masterpiece - Faust is
a shamefully neglected work. Try it, not the showoff Mephisto,
if you associate Liszt with facility rather than profundity.
|