There’s a lot to get to on this one, not least of which is why the title of the album is a question. Barbara Hannigan explains that in the booklet, which I’ll get to at the end.
But first I must question Hannigan’s view of Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess. She states in the booklet that she feels “the music in Porgy and Bess is absolutely magnificent”. And I wholeheartedly agree. But you’d never know that listening to this. Given that Hannigan is a singer (before she decided to start conducting), I wonder if she’d ever sung any of this opera. Because what she does here with Robert Russell Bennett’s Symphonic Picture is bewildering. The tempos are SO slow (and so unidiomatic) from beginning to end, it just becomes lifeless with so little forward momentum or characterization. After a wonderful opening section (more below), “Clara, Clara” demonstrates this is going to be a marathon in breath control for the orchestral wind players. It is very slow. As is “Summertime”, which has so little forward motion, it would be difficult to sing at this pace. And it’s not just the slow sections which are slow, even the con brio Act 1 Opening Music (track 3) doesn’t really pick up in tempo all that much. Oh it gets loud, but remains leaden – restrained and held firmly in check (though nicely articulate). And in “I Got Plenty o’ Nuttin”, there’s not a whiff of humor to it. (Even the bassoon isn’t amused playing along with a banjo.) And there’s little playfulness in the accompanying orchestral parts – those staccato woodwinds are curiously leggiero rather than effervescent. And when the entire orchestra plays it, it sounds perfunctory and listless.1
After a harmless hurricane, back to the dol-drums we go for “Bess You Is My Woman”, which just stalls. The Picnic Scene (“Oh, I Can’t Sit Down”) picks up, but doesn’t last very long; I wanted much more rhythmic buoyancy in “There’s a Boat That’s Leaving” which follows. And the final “Oh Lord, I’m On My Way” fails to take flight at this tempo, remaining steadfastly earthbound and not the least bit life-affirming. And Hannigan continues to torture this poor orchestra, expecting them to sustain the long lines and even longer held notes. None more so than at the very end, where she leaves the poor 1st trumpet hanging on for dear life sustaining that high C# – even pulling him back to p no less(!) – while she drags this out to hammer home those 2 ff g-natural chords, until the tension is unbearable (and we’re literally fearing for the trumpet player’s life), and a rather weak (exhausted) crescendo culminates in a dropping glissando down to the final “bomp” to finally end it. (And I must say, this trumpet player is truly fantastic.)
But it’s not just the tempos that makes this all so bland. It’s the lack of characterization and emotional involvement; and, more seriously, the lack of flair and the idiomatic rhythmic vitality so essential to this music. And, too, it’s the overall sound of the orchestra. Either Hannigan or the recording engineer has decided that the Gothenburg Symphony should not sound at all like a bright, brassy American orchestra. This is an unusually dark, rounded sound – darker than golden, more like molten chocolate – where even the brass are restrained. Maybe Hannigan is trying to recreate choral music, or voices of all mezzos and contraltos in this orchestral suite. And while I suppose I could possibly understand such an approach, she seems determined to minimize Gershwin’s orchestral scoring, which makes such a significant, and thoroughly idiomatic, contribution to the opera. She seems to relegate the orchestra deep into the depths of the pit – though they curious have an on-stage presence in the hall. Again, whether this is Hannigan’s doing or the record engineer, I do not know. (I suspect both had a hand in it.) Whatever the reason, it doesn’t work very well in this music.
And it’s such a shame; it begins with such promise. In the opening segment (“Catfish Row”), Hannigan creates a wonderfully atmospheric mood – intriguing and sensuous, full of anticipation – not rushed in the slightest, but not lethargic either. The English Horn solo is positively exquisite. I don’t ever remember hearing such a gorgeously wooden sound from the instrument on record before. And there is a resplendent, airy, radiant flute singing high above, followed by silky strings. And I’m thinking, oh this orchestra is wonderful and this is going to be glorious. But soon after the plaintive trumpet’s song and distant wailing saxophone have faded into the night, something happens. The sound darkens, tempos stall, and the musicmaking falls flat. For all of Hannigan’s comments about America in the booklet (which I promise I will get to soon enough), this sounds about as far removed from “American” – let alone black America – as you can get. And Hannigan’s choice of tempos seals its fate.
Surely I’m exaggerating, you may be thinking. Well, to illustrate just how slow this is, let’s take a look at the timing and make some comparisons. The average playing time for this piece on CD is around 24 minutes. (Dorati/Detroit and Dutoit/Montreal, both on Decca, are my benchmarks – and oh how sensational they are.) While Edo De Waart (1970/Philips), the slowest reading I can ever remember, takes just over 25 minutes. As does Ormandy in his rather leisurely 1967 reading on CBS (though he brings such picturesque characterization to it, it doesn’t feel slow). But Hannigan here takes a whopping 30 minutes! Good lord! – it goes on forever!
Copland’s Dance Symphony, which comes next on the program, is much better, sonically and musically, offering us a glimpse of what could have been in the Gershwin and what a missed opportunity that was. The Copland sounds more open – with an airier acoustic and more transparent textures, and the orchestra sounds more alive and dynamic. (Listen to the potent bass drum in the finale!) It’s not quite state of the art though – there is still a bit of closed-in darkness to the sound. But it is a noticeable improvement over the Gershwin. The booklet is no help in explaining why that might be, merely a simple statement: “Recorded in November 2025.” These were obviously taped at different sessions, and we can only assume that after a playback of the Gershwin in the record booth, the engineer and/or producer realized some adjustments were necessary and made it happen. All for the better.
But even more than the sound, Hannigan is more engaging here as well. Though it must be admitted, as good as this is, she can’t match Dorati in Detroit (Decca, 1981) by any measure, or even John Wilson with the BBC Philharmonic (Chandos, 2018). This is due in part to the spectacular recordings from those labels that Alpha Classics can’t quite match; but also, again, with Hannigan’s propensity for sluggish tempos. While not nearly as lethargic as Porgy, she still takes over 3 minutes longer in the Copland than either Dorati or Wilson (both spot-on at exactly 17 minutes, while Hannigan takes nearly 21, much of that occurring in the Andante second movement). The 1st movement is about a minute slower, and could ideally use a bit more momentum, but she builds it with good intensity. The Andante then is more of an Adagio – nearly 3 minutes slower than either alternative – and there’s no real musical justification for it. I suppose it would be OK, but it actually loses some of its intoxicating, mesmerizing atmosphere at this languid tempo. The final Allegro vivo is not as incisively biting as either Dorati or Wilson, though her tempo is just fine. However, there is a memorable moment in the central meno mosso section (at about 2:30) where Copland sounds a little drunk, with all those little glissandos first introduced in the violas and cellos. And Hannigan’s violins answer them positively flirtatiously – just as coy and coquettish as you please. It’s utterly charming. But then, I wish she had mustered more vivo! and sheer energy in the final section through to the end. Nonetheless, Hannigan does a very good job overall with this piece, leaving one wondering why this engaging musical involvement didn’t carry over to the Gershwin.
Next up is a curious choice, The Carousel Waltz by Richard Rodgers. Essentially a medley of familiar tunes from the musical, this is actually the Overture to the film version, arranged by Don Walker. The orchestra seems to be enjoying themselves, especially the sweeping strings waltzing away that glorious tune. But even here, how I wish they would just let loose with a bit more uninhibited exuberance! But Hannigan will have none of that. The sound continues to be good, though a slight overall darkness persists. In the end, this seems oddly out of place here after the Copland symphony.2
Unfortunately, Hannigan ends the concert with something even more out of place, featuring herself as vocalist in the “world premiere” of Bill Elliott’s suite, At the Fair for soprano and orchestra. I personally don’t enjoy vocals on an orchestral concert in any circumstances, and found this particularly unappealing – musically and vocally. While the 2nd of its 3 sections is purely orchestral, it’s very short (just 2-1/2 minutes) and just plain silliness. The other 2 sections consist of cutesy, musical-style vocals (i.e. not operatic) which really have no place on an orchestral concert. This suite takes up 12 minutes of the program. But with a total playing time of 71 minutes on this CD, I can do without it and not feel too shortchanged. But still, why is it included here at all?
Now as to the album title…
In the opening paragraph of her liner notes in the booklet, Ms. Hannigan expresses heartfelt sentiments about what she sees happening in America now, questioning whether the elusive “American dream” can still be achieved today. Hence the question mark. She goes on to say this was the inspiration for putting together this album. It’s well stated (and worth reading) and her observations are spot on. However, I’m not sure adding a question mark to the title of this album helps make the point. I mean, no one will know what that “?” means unless they buy the CD and read her program notes. But maybe that’s the point. In any case, I’m impressed to see such a profound statement from a Canadian musician recording music with a Swedish Orchestra for a French production label – bearing out one of her comments that what’s happening in America has international repercussions. Indeed.
Despite my reservations noted, this album is musically worthwhile and certainly worth supporting.
1 I wondered several times if this orchestra was even interested in playing this music.
2 As a matter of fact, the entire program is something of a grab bag. An opera suite and a musical overture surrounding a Copland Symphony just seems terribly odd. However, since the Copland is unquestionably the highlight of the program, I wouldn’t want to be without it. So it’s really all the musical stuff which seems out of place.
