Todd
New member
Bartok is beautiful. That’s the thing here. Now, I’m not much of a fan of Seiji Ozawa’s recordings. While I find his recordings generally well executed, I also find them, or at least a good portion of them, a bit on the dull side. Against this I needed to balance the fact that I haven’t bought a new version of Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra for probably eight months or more. Clearly I was remiss in my duties. Sure, I could have opted for Christoph Eschenbach’s recent recording, but Ozawa’s new one was available for a silly low price, so it got the nod. And so I undertook to listen to that most satisfying pairing of the Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta along with the wartime warhorse played by the still relatively new Saito Kinen Orchestra. In concert, no less.
The disc opens with the MSPC. It’s a bit hard to determine what’s coming in the opening passages of the Andante tranquillo. It opens with hushed pianissimo playing, with nicely delicate string playing. But it seems a little rounded, a little warm. As things gradually build up, and then build up some more, things stay on the soft side. Still the tension and volume continue to build noticeably until at 4’16” a big ol’ thwack of the bass drum and full cry of the orchestra announces the arrival of the meaty (or at least meatier) part of the movement. The orchestra plays extremely well. The only thing that really goes missing is bite. Sure, the strings sound nicely dissonant, but surely they should sound more astringent than here. Anyway, after the big outburst, Ozawa and company quiet things down again and create a nicely sinister air. One thing that simply cannot go unnoticed is the amazing sound quality. Detail abounds throughout the orchestra, with the best sounding celesta I recall hearing and a pinpoint xylophone ringing out stage right among the highlights. Yet even with all that glorious detail the recording retains a most pleasing warmth. It rather reminds me of Daniel Barenboim’s recent Mahler 7 recording; that is, it’s in essentially perfect sound. Anyhoo, on to the second movement. It’s mighty appealing, too. The sound captures the wonderfully played strings in all their not-too-dissonant glory, and then Ozawa changes the playing style to sound almost jocular. A minor blemish comes with the piano-percussion doubling, which lacks that last degree of snap, though the playing is solid. The Adagio opens tautly and quietly, with that razor-sharp xylophone reappearing, and the strings do their thing. Greater tension is achieved and maintained than earlier on, and the playing is deliciously colorful, and that darling celesta comes back to tickle one’s ears. To close the work, all concerned play with greater tension and energy, yet maintain the glorious, rich, warm sound that has defined the recording up to this point. The strings start to sound just biting enough, and the percussion adds enough zing. What to make of it all? Well, it certainly lacks that certain something, that certain Hungarian-ness that some other notable Bartok conductors bring, and it sounds just a bit too polite at times. But it also sounds amazingly beautiful and lived-in. I’m guessing Ozawa knows and loves the piece, because so much attention is lavished on it. This will not be to everyone’s taste, but ‘tis pretty darned good.
The mighty Concerto for Orchestra isn’t quite as good, though it ain’t none too shabby. To start with, the sound isn’t as good. Oh, sure, it’s very high quality, and it shares the same warm overall sound of the MSPC, but it’s not as detailed and precise, with the orchestra sounding like a giant blob of beautiful sound at times, not that I’m complaining. That quibble aside, there are other quibbles, but they’re mixed in with decidedly un-quibble inducing playing. The first movement opens with nice and beefy if not super-detailed low string playing and shimmering violins. The overall effect is not exactly dark or eerie or foreboding, but it does possess a hint of theatricality. When the movement transitions to the Allegro vivace section, all the strings swell in a grand manner. Too old-world grand for this piece? Dunno. Don’t care. As for the tasty winds, well, they’re, um, delectable, but they aren’t quite pungent enough. As things progress, the strings take on a nicely sharper sound which builds up to a loud, blatty, but not edgy enough fanfare at 7’15” before winding up the first movement strongly. The second movement finds the paired instruments doing well enough, though I could have done with more ‘cackle’ from the oboes, and the stage right strings really catching one’s attention when the clarinets and then the trumpets play. Some minor imperfections in the playing are so minor as to make the playing seem better. The great Elegia is appropriately somber in mood and ethereal in sound, with fine, clear winds led by more robust oboe playing. The piccolo playing rises above the din nicely enough, even if some other recordings boast sharper, more articulate playing than here. (Ivan Fischer’s, say.) Bartok is beautiful. Nowhere is that message more emphatically reinforced than in the interrupted intermezzo. The main theme is played more beautifully than in any other version I can recall, with the strings so sumptuous sounding that one wants the theme repeated before going on. Is it too romanticized? Perhaps. So what? When the rude ‘n’ crude interruptions from DSCH’s 7th come, I must say that I found them a bit too polite. So’s the response. The carnival-esque music afterwards is nicely done and fills the stage, but it’s not quite sharp enough – but, did I mention that the main theme is beautifully played? It is at the end, too. The finale opens with a slightly too slow and thick fanfare, but then it’s off to the races, with the entire band playing extremely well and with plenty of drive. While the sound is not as spectacular as in the opening work, it is here where one really begins to appreciate the wonders of contemporary digital recording: the sound is rich, loud, clear, and massive, without any hint of compression or hardness, at least at the volume at which I listened – just shy of concert level. All told, this is a good version, certainly better than I anticipated, though it’s not one of the greats in my estimation.
So here’s a surprise of a disc. I expected to either dislike it or at least be bored by it, though I held out hope for liking it. (Why buy it otherwise?) I do like it. Quite a bit, actually. Ozawa knows the pieces and leads loving versions. Both pieces are softer than I usually prefer, and maybe just a bit too romanticized. Ozawa cannot match up to the greatest Bartokians – Fritz Reiner, Antal Dorati, Ferenc Fricsay, and Ivan Fischer – but he more than holds his own against other fine, modern conductors. I’m glad I got it. And man, the sound is superb. And that’s just the CD layer!
The disc opens with the MSPC. It’s a bit hard to determine what’s coming in the opening passages of the Andante tranquillo. It opens with hushed pianissimo playing, with nicely delicate string playing. But it seems a little rounded, a little warm. As things gradually build up, and then build up some more, things stay on the soft side. Still the tension and volume continue to build noticeably until at 4’16” a big ol’ thwack of the bass drum and full cry of the orchestra announces the arrival of the meaty (or at least meatier) part of the movement. The orchestra plays extremely well. The only thing that really goes missing is bite. Sure, the strings sound nicely dissonant, but surely they should sound more astringent than here. Anyway, after the big outburst, Ozawa and company quiet things down again and create a nicely sinister air. One thing that simply cannot go unnoticed is the amazing sound quality. Detail abounds throughout the orchestra, with the best sounding celesta I recall hearing and a pinpoint xylophone ringing out stage right among the highlights. Yet even with all that glorious detail the recording retains a most pleasing warmth. It rather reminds me of Daniel Barenboim’s recent Mahler 7 recording; that is, it’s in essentially perfect sound. Anyhoo, on to the second movement. It’s mighty appealing, too. The sound captures the wonderfully played strings in all their not-too-dissonant glory, and then Ozawa changes the playing style to sound almost jocular. A minor blemish comes with the piano-percussion doubling, which lacks that last degree of snap, though the playing is solid. The Adagio opens tautly and quietly, with that razor-sharp xylophone reappearing, and the strings do their thing. Greater tension is achieved and maintained than earlier on, and the playing is deliciously colorful, and that darling celesta comes back to tickle one’s ears. To close the work, all concerned play with greater tension and energy, yet maintain the glorious, rich, warm sound that has defined the recording up to this point. The strings start to sound just biting enough, and the percussion adds enough zing. What to make of it all? Well, it certainly lacks that certain something, that certain Hungarian-ness that some other notable Bartok conductors bring, and it sounds just a bit too polite at times. But it also sounds amazingly beautiful and lived-in. I’m guessing Ozawa knows and loves the piece, because so much attention is lavished on it. This will not be to everyone’s taste, but ‘tis pretty darned good.
The mighty Concerto for Orchestra isn’t quite as good, though it ain’t none too shabby. To start with, the sound isn’t as good. Oh, sure, it’s very high quality, and it shares the same warm overall sound of the MSPC, but it’s not as detailed and precise, with the orchestra sounding like a giant blob of beautiful sound at times, not that I’m complaining. That quibble aside, there are other quibbles, but they’re mixed in with decidedly un-quibble inducing playing. The first movement opens with nice and beefy if not super-detailed low string playing and shimmering violins. The overall effect is not exactly dark or eerie or foreboding, but it does possess a hint of theatricality. When the movement transitions to the Allegro vivace section, all the strings swell in a grand manner. Too old-world grand for this piece? Dunno. Don’t care. As for the tasty winds, well, they’re, um, delectable, but they aren’t quite pungent enough. As things progress, the strings take on a nicely sharper sound which builds up to a loud, blatty, but not edgy enough fanfare at 7’15” before winding up the first movement strongly. The second movement finds the paired instruments doing well enough, though I could have done with more ‘cackle’ from the oboes, and the stage right strings really catching one’s attention when the clarinets and then the trumpets play. Some minor imperfections in the playing are so minor as to make the playing seem better. The great Elegia is appropriately somber in mood and ethereal in sound, with fine, clear winds led by more robust oboe playing. The piccolo playing rises above the din nicely enough, even if some other recordings boast sharper, more articulate playing than here. (Ivan Fischer’s, say.) Bartok is beautiful. Nowhere is that message more emphatically reinforced than in the interrupted intermezzo. The main theme is played more beautifully than in any other version I can recall, with the strings so sumptuous sounding that one wants the theme repeated before going on. Is it too romanticized? Perhaps. So what? When the rude ‘n’ crude interruptions from DSCH’s 7th come, I must say that I found them a bit too polite. So’s the response. The carnival-esque music afterwards is nicely done and fills the stage, but it’s not quite sharp enough – but, did I mention that the main theme is beautifully played? It is at the end, too. The finale opens with a slightly too slow and thick fanfare, but then it’s off to the races, with the entire band playing extremely well and with plenty of drive. While the sound is not as spectacular as in the opening work, it is here where one really begins to appreciate the wonders of contemporary digital recording: the sound is rich, loud, clear, and massive, without any hint of compression or hardness, at least at the volume at which I listened – just shy of concert level. All told, this is a good version, certainly better than I anticipated, though it’s not one of the greats in my estimation.
So here’s a surprise of a disc. I expected to either dislike it or at least be bored by it, though I held out hope for liking it. (Why buy it otherwise?) I do like it. Quite a bit, actually. Ozawa knows the pieces and leads loving versions. Both pieces are softer than I usually prefer, and maybe just a bit too romanticized. Ozawa cannot match up to the greatest Bartokians – Fritz Reiner, Antal Dorati, Ferenc Fricsay, and Ivan Fischer – but he more than holds his own against other fine, modern conductors. I’m glad I got it. And man, the sound is superb. And that’s just the CD layer!
