Musically, the similarities in this new release include refined, efficient, proficient and largely anonymous orchestral execution. And it could be more dynamic too. Harmonia mundi faithfully captures the spacious acoustic in Toronto, which sounds to be ideal. It’s a lovely sound which would have worked wonderfully in Dutilleux, but not as much in Stravinsky, given Gimeno’s propensity for smooth orchestral refinement over incisive articulation. Again, if only…
The program begins with a rather lackluster reading of Stravinsky’s Divertimento from the ballet The Fairy’s Kiss. I found it interesting reading Gimeno’s introduction in the booklet where he states he’s always interested in exploring complete scores over the more popular suites, and yet he plays just the suite from this. And it’s just as well, for he seems rather uninspired by it, and it sounds under-characterized and rather faceless.
Fortunately, matters improve with the main attraction – the complete Pulcinella ballet – though I really wish Gimeno had used reduced forces, as Stravinsky envisioned this for chamber orchestra. With the full orchestra as recorded here, I miss some of the charm and intimacy of a smaller group. And it could be more articulate and vividly characterized as well. Inner detail is a bit murky and the low strings a bit woolly, as Gimeno prefers a homogenous sound. The orchestral playing is excellent though, and they certainly sound more lively than in Divertimento.
Another problem for me is his use of big operatic voices with big voluptuous vibrato, which sound ridiculously overblown in this score. The singers are good, and I’m sure they’d be great in Verdi, but here, their boisterousness becomes more of an intrusion rather than an integral part of the narrative. (And this tenor – is his vibrato sounding concerningly close to becoming a wobble? And the mezzo is surely too dark; the score specifies soprano.) The bass/baritone is best. Even though he too has a big voice, he really does try to lighten it, and sings with a character and buoyancy befitting the text.
While recordings of the complete ballet are not all that common, more characterful and compelling readings can certainly be found. Chailly in Amsterdam (Decca) uses a one-on-a-part chamber ensemble to great effect, while Marriner’s St. Martin in the Fields Academy (EMI) is the perfect-sized group for this music, and perhaps with the exception of the tenor, his vocalists are far more ebullient as well. Even Robert Craft, using the full London Symphony, is fresher and more engaging in his 1997 recording for Koch (reissued on Naxos).
And while I always prefer the complete Fairy’s Kiss over just the Divertimento excerpt, including the entire ballet here would have left no room on the CD for the commissioned work – which I suspect was a primary consideration for this release from Toronto. (And I had hoped it would be the highlight of the disc.)
Curiously sandwiched in between the two Stravinsky scores, is a new work by Canadian composer Kelly-Marie Murphy, commissioned by the Toronto Symphony Orchestra and the Glenn Gould Foundation (that would have been in 2017, seven years before this recording was made) to celebrate Gould’s 85th birthday and the 70th anniversary of his debut performance with the orchestra. Its oddly cumbersome title, Curiosity, Genius, and the Search for Petula Clark, is certainly a mouthful, and not easily recalled after it’s done. (The composer explains in the booklet it originates from a radio interview Gould participated in at some point.) Unfortunately, the music is not much more memorable than the title.
It is contemporary for sure, somewhat avant-garde in its (lack of) tonality, and expertly orchestrated. It begins almost imperceptibly with some eerie, distant percussion and wonderfully atmospheric pp harmonics on the strings, before a series of beguiling solos emerge from the mists by a variety of woodwinds – beginning with the flute, with a marvelous improvisational quality to it. I’m instantly intrigued and drawn into this mysterious sonic landscape. An expressive bassoon plays a pensive tune before a percussion-laden crescendo takes us to an energetic, almost furious Allegro with flurrying strings and brass and percussion interjections, sounding not unlike an action movie sequence. It was at this point I kept expecting (and hoping) all this commotion would eventually lead to something substantive – a main theme perhaps, and a welcoming bit of harmonious tonality. But it never arrives. Some more high-energy film-score-sounding music soon gives way to another atmospheric section much like the opening (but more tense and uneasy this time), before agitated strings and heavy rhythmic punctuations from the brass and a battery of percussion whip up the action again – and again not really going (or getting) anywhere. And the piece abruptly ends, leaving me wanting more from it.
So maybe not quite the highlight of the disc after all. Though inspired by an important and interesting figure, it tends to sound much like what it is – a commissioned work, written “on demand” for a specific occasion. And one wonders why it took 7 years for it to be recorded.
It is interesting to compare this with another new work by a female composer, Wang Jie, commissioned by the Buffalo Philharmonic and recently recorded on their album, “Contemporary Landscapes” (reviewed here on my blog). In some ways the two pieces are similar. Each is a roughly 10-12 minute long, single-movement, highly descriptive piece of program music, with varying sections and contrasting moods within it. And both are expertly scored. However, that’s where the similarities end. Though Jie’s piece too is rather erratic, it seems to have a more purposeful sense of direction. Each section leads spontaneously to the next, and its temperamental variety is capricious and entertaining, in an almost theatrical way. And it packs quite a punch too, building to a very exciting climax at the end. It really is a dazzling showpiece for orchestra – which, for all its bombast, Murphy’s is not. (And I suspect it wasn’t intended to be.)
All in all, this is a worthwhile release that will likely be enjoyed by many. Though there are preferable recordings of both Stravinsky works, these are satisfactory, and the commissioned piece is worth hearing. Best of all, the Toronto Symphony is sounding excellent these days – including some truly wonderful solo playing (especially in the new work) and a fantastic trombone in Pulcinella. And with harmonia mundi’s irresistible cover art, this is certainly enticing.
