Oleg Tsibulko / Russian National Orchestra / Kirill Karabits SHOSTAKOVICH Symphony No. 13 "Babi Yar"

SYMPHONY No. 13 "BABI YAR"

Russian National Orchestra / Carlo Ponti MUSSORGSKY Pictures at an Exhibition - Night on the Bare Mountain

It may seem perverse with a Russian orchestra to have the least Russian-sounding orchestration of Pictures, albeit the most inspired one. Yet Carlo Ponti, so far as he can, brings out the Russian-ness of Mussorgsky’s inspiration with each of the pictures sharply characterised and with much delicate playing in such items as “The Fair at Limoges” set against the weight of the tuttis, notably in the final “Great Gate at Kiev”. That goes with recording of extreme dynamic range, arguably too extreme for domestic comfort. The wind solos are specially impressive, as is the horn descant in the “Great Gate of Kiev”. In short, an excellent version of a much-recorded showpiece.

Night on the Bare Mountain comes in the highly unauthentic but undeniably effective Rimsky version, brilliantly played here with powerful bite. The Khovanshchina excerpts make an effective, atmospheric filler, but the disc offers rather short measure at just on an hour. The Super Audio recording adds to the impact of the performances, well engineered by Pentatone technicians trained by Philips. (Edward Greenfield / Gramophone, 6/2009)

Mikhail Pletnev / Russian National Orchestra SHCHEDRIN Carmen Suite - Naughty Limericks - The Chimes

By coincidence‚ just before hearing this disc I chanced upon Stan Kenton’s all­Wagner LP from the 1960s (STO2217). ‘File under jazz’ says Capitol’s spine‚ but Kenton’s evocative handling of Tristan’s Prelude is anything but ‘jazzed up’. In fact‚ if you take the OED’s secondary definition of jazz as ‘fantastic designs or vivid patterns’‚ Rodion Shchedrin’s 1967 Carmen Suite is a lot more jazzy than Kenton’s contemporaneous Tristan. It’s also brash‚ gimmicky and more obviously out for effect. And yet the formula sort­of works: strings (here spatially divided) and percussion shuffling hot­foot through some of Bizet’s best tunes.
The Introduction becomes a door chime of the ‘Habanera’‚ the ‘Boléro’ is L’Arlésienne’s ‘Farandole’ (truncated to fit a minute) and ‘Toréador’ brilliantly dispatches the skeleton of Bizet’s original among the pizzicatos‚ without quoting the top line. The eerie scene between the Toreador and Carmen – here Shchedrin’s transcription really does sound very Russian – is based on music from The Fair Maid of Perth‚ but brace your ears for the clatter of bells that follows with the Adagio. You also get the Card Scene‚ the Flower Song and the finale‚ which in this extremely dynamic new recording under Mikhail Pletnev makes a more dramatic impression than Gennady Rozhdestvensky’s good old Melodiya recording. The tempo is brisker‚ and the string choirs clearer‚ but elsewhere Rozhdestvensky’s performance has marginally more ‘umph’. It’s still the most exciting Shchedrin/Bizet on disc‚ though sound­wise‚ this latest recording presents the fuller sound frame.
The fill­ups are fun‚ or at least the ‘Naughty Limericks’ (or ‘Merry Ditties’ as they were once known here) are‚ pure slapstick‚ with rasping trombones and squeeze­box rhythms. The last version I heard was Leonard Bernstein’s in the New York Philharmonic’s newest bumper collection‚ a marvellous performance‚ but Pletnev’s dryer manner also works well. ‘The Chimes’ is less fervid than on Svetlanov’s famous live Melodiya account‚ where the ringing is wilder‚ but the closing pages are very atmospheric.
DG’s recordings (Moscow State Conservatory‚ spring 1998) are more obviously staged for the ‘hi­fi’ market than other Pletnev/Russian National Orchestra recordings from the same stable – especially in Carmen – but the engineering certainly suits the music. It’s worth a spin‚ but to my ears it all sounds terribly dated‚ a bit like one of those flashback TV shows that home in on some random decade from your distant past. The tricks don’t wear terribly well‚ and you can’t say that of Stan Kenton. (Gramophone)