Note: Updated with some expansions and Sunday Classics links,
notably in the section on the Brahms First Symphony
What is it?by Ken
The oboe is a woodwind instrument in the double reed family. It has a conical bore and a flaring bell, which gives it a clear, penetrating voice compared to other woodwind instruments. A person who plays the oboe is an oboist.
[from the Manning Music website]
And not just Ravel's Tombeau de Couperin, which I can reveal was included (in an unexpected form) in the above-hinted-at Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center concert, which set off this whole line of inquiry. No, for reasons that will eventually become clear (though perhaps only clearish this week), we've also got music by Tchaikovsky, Brahms, and Rossini, none of it with any singing -- and never mind (maybe?) that all four of these are composers for whom vocal music was a prime concern.
At least there's no singing in the literal vocal sense. Consider this, however:
TCHAIKOVSKY: Symphony No. 4 in F minor, Op. 36:
ii. Andantino in modo di canzone
London Symphony Orchestra, George Szell, cond. Decca, recorded September 1962
RIAS Symphony Orchestra (Berlin), Ferenc Fricsay, cond. DG, recorded Sept. 9-10, 1952
Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Litton, cond. Virgin Classics, recorded 1988-91
AT THIS MOMENT, THIS IS MY FAVORITE MUSICAL
DIRECTION: "ANDANTINO IN MODO DI CANZONE"
Andantino, which is to say something more mobile than a for-real "andante," in the mode/manner/form of song. And I think all three of our nonvocal singing Tchaikovksians have done admirably. Oh, in George Szell's case there isn't any fooling around -- Szell wasn't a fooling-around kind of guy. But we should remember that, like most conductors of his time and place, he spent a fair amount of time in the opera house, and while I can't say I've been overwhelmed by any of the opera performances of his I've heard, it remained part of his musical makeup, as I think we can certainly hear here.I don't think there's any question either of the bias-to-song of the Hungarian-born Ference Fricsay, with his band of Berliners. But if anything, in our small selection today (don't worry, we've got more in store), I think it's Andrew Litton who wins our canzone contest. You could say that his opening tempo is more like a proper andante than an andantino, but there's no formal dividing line, and I really like the result he gets in this extraordinarily beautiful movement.
Of course Tchaikovsky was hardly the first composer to "go oboe" in a songful slow movement. I don't mean to suggest that he was "copying," but I'd be surprised if, in the course of composition, he never thought of this extraordinarily beautiful movment.
BRAHMS: Symphony No. 1 in C minor, Op. 68:
ii. Andante sostenuto
BBC Philharmonic , Günther Herbig, cond. Collins, recorded February 1992 [oboe solo at 1:11]
Vienna Philharmonic, Sir John Barbirolli, cond. EMI, recorded 1967 [oboe solo at 1:19]
Vienna Philharmonic, Leonard Bernstein, cond. DG, recorded c1982 [oboe solo at 1:27]
In this case our music-makers were pre-chosen; I found these clips from a previous post and thought they would serve our purpose. I became an admirer of the too-little-known Günther Herbig (born 1931 and, at 86, still with us, as of this writing) via radio broadcasts during his tenure as music director of the Detroit Symphony (1984-90); as I discovered with (to pick another example) Georg Solti, week-in, week-out exposure over a variety of repertory can teach you some interesting things about a conductor, in particular about his/her basic musicianship. (I had been an early Solti admirer not so much from his recordings as from his propulsive Met performances. His Chicago broadcasts considerably heightened my appreciation for his solid musicality.) I really like Herbig's Brahms First, and this Andante sostenuto seems to me altogether lovely. I wonder if it's just coincidence, but we've heard Herbig rise to the challenges of two other nonpareil symphonic slow movements: the Andante più tosto allegretto of Haydn's No. 103, whose theme and variations, alternating between minor and major, are by turns and sometimes simultaneously ebullient, wistful, and hilarious, leading maestro Georg Tintner, as we readl, to venture that "Gustav Mahler was particularly fond of this movement, because his own works show influences of that kind," and the sublime Andante moderato from Mahler's own Sixth, which I suggested in a July 2011 Sunday Classics preview post might be the most beautiful movement Mahler composed. (Barbirolli's and Bernstein's Brahms appeared in that preview post; Herbig's Brahms and Mahler appeared in the main post that followed, devoted to the Mahler Sixth. We heard Herbig's Haydn as part of the whole of Haydn's Drum Roll Symphony, from the second set of "London" symphonies, interspersed with observations by Maestro Tintner, in the August 2012 post "When Haydn met London (and vice versa), neither was ever the same again.")
The Barbirolli performance is a happy souvenir from a Brahms symphony cycle that seemed like such a splendid idea and somehow didn't quite work out that way. Our outlier here, not surprisingly to anyone who recalls the shape of his career, is Leonard Bernstein, who in his "later" mode really searches, and really delivers, provided we're prepared to be a wee bit patient.
OF COURSE THE OBOE ISN'T JUST FOR SLOW
STUFF -- IT CAN ALSO GO LICKETY-SPLIT
And trust Rossini to exploit both modes, intermingled with some other utterly gorgeous wind-solo writing, in one of his overtures that's mostly all we hear from the opera in question. Still, what an overture it is! Slow introduction, fast main section (it's what we heard, for example, last week with Mozart's Così fan tutte) -- it's all what you do with it.
ROSSINI: La Scala de seta (The Silk Ladder): Overture
Orpheus Chamber Orchestra. DG, recorded c1984 [oboe solos at 0:11, 1:30]
BBC Symphony Orchestra, Arturo Toscanini, cond. HMV, recorded June 13, 1938 [oboe solos at 0:12, 1:35]
National Philharmonic Orchestra, Riccardo Chailly, cond. Decca, recorded January 1981 [oboe solos at 0:12, 1:38]
I think the performances speak well enough for themselves. I didn't realize until I went looking, though, that Toscanini never made another recording of the Scala di seta Overture after this 1938 BBC Symphony one, which fortunately holds up quite well.
WHICH BRINGS US FINALLY TO RAVEL
As a matter of fact, I originally had in mind a naughty bit of bait-and-switch, whereby I trusted that mention of Le Tombeau de Couperin might trigger expectations, even hopes, for something like this:
RAVEL: Le Tombeau de Couperin
Original version for solo piano
Samson François, piano. EMI, recorded Mar.-July 1967
Walter Gieseking piano. EMI, recorded in London, Dec. 10-17, 1954
Marcelle Meyer, piano. Discophiles Français-EMI, recorded Mar. 5-8, 1954
Ravel's later orchestral version
Orchestre du Théâtre National de l'Opéra de Paris, Manuel Rosenthal, cond. Adès, recorded c1958
Detroit Symphony Orchestra, Paul Paray, cond. Mercury, recorded April 1959
Orchestre de Paris, Jean Martinon, cond. EMI, recorded July and Sept. 1974
Ha-ha-ha, right? Well, everyone's entitled to their opinion. Anyways, do we really need an excuse to listen to the irrepressible "Rigaudon"? And one thing this little exercise reminds us is that the Tombeau de Couperin did begin life in 1914-17 as a sort of quasi-baroque suite of six piano pieces in resurrected baroque forms (conceived as tributes to friends of the composer who had been killed in the war), before Ravel orchestrated and slightly reordered four of them. And it's largely coincidence that the "Rigaudon" occupies the "iv" slot in both. The piano suite ran: i. Prélude, ii. Fugue, iii. Forlane, iv. Rigaudon, v. Menuet, vi. Toccata. The orchestral suite runs: i. Prélude, ii. Forlane, iii. Menuet, iv. Rigaudon.
Now the version I heard at that CMS concert wasn't either of these. In a program called Through the Great War, it was nestled between two piano quintets -- Ernst von Dohnányi's second, written in 1914 against a backdrop of Europe on the brink of World War I, and Elgar's, written in a state of severe depression in the summer of 1918 -- in a form I'd never heard: the Tombeau orchestral suite arranged for wind quintet by the Philadelphia Orchestra's longtime, legendary horn principal Mason Jones.
All three versions begin with the "Prélude," but it's worth remembering, lost as we are in this fit of oboemania, that the scurrying oboe line wasn't originally an oboe line.
RAVEL: Le Tombeau de Couperin:
i. Prélude
Original version for solo piano
Samson François, piano. EMI, recorded Mar.-July 1967
Marcelle Meyer, piano. Discophiles Français-EMI, recorded Mar. 5-8, 1954
Walter Gieseking piano. EMI, recorded in London, Dec. 10-17, 1954
Ravel's later orchestral version
Orchestre du Théâtre National de l'Opéra de Paris, Manuel Rosenthal, cond. Adès, recorded c1958
Detroit Symphony Orchestra, Paul Paray, cond. Mercury, recorded April 1959
Orchestre de Paris, Jean Martinon, cond. EMI, recorded July and Sept. 1974
You'll note in the piano performances that there's a markedly different idea of tempo between Samson François and Marcelle Meyer on the one hand and Walter Gieseking. I like Gieseking's idea a lot, but at least so far it's the more customary scampering pace that is holding sway among our orchestral practitioners, though Jean Martinon somewhat less so than the others -- and doesn't his version play nicely? If you follow the Ravel link below, though, you'll find that Berlin Philharmonic principal oboe Albrecht Mayer agrees about the frequently way-too-fast tempo.
IF YOU'D LIKE TO KNOW WHAT THIS IS ALL ABOUT,
YOU CAN GET THE BASIC IDEA USING THESE LINKS
These are clips posted by Carnegie Hall's Weill Music Institute from Albrecht Mayer's 2013 Carnegie Hall master class.
RAVEL: Le Tombeau de Couperin:
i. Prélude
Watch the clip here [10:04]
And hear Albrecht Mayer say: "Beautiful! Really good! So now let's try to do this -- this is already very good, but what we need is the same beauty with a lot of energy behind."
TCHAIKOVSKY: Symphony No. 4 in F minor, Op. 36:
ii. Andantino in modo di canzone
Watch the clip here [6:26]
Note the point A.M. makes about Tchaikovsky's movement marking!
BRAHMS: Symphony No. 1 in C minor, Op. 68:
ii. Andante sostenuto
Watch the clip here [7:49]
ROSSINI: La Scala de seta: Overture
Watch the clip here [6:54]
You may also note, as you follow the links, these comments:
[of the Brahms] "She has not enough power to do what albrecht tells her"
[of the Ravel] "Perhaps it's just a matter of personal preference, but it seems the student elicits a more mellow resonant sound compared to Mr Mayer's......."
Well, there's a certain evident truth to both, but in every important way they're dead wrong -- and wrong in crucially important ways, which seem to me directly related to singing. So we're going to have to look at them a bit.
UPDATE: IT WAS A STRETCH, AND A GRIND --
and as I noted at the top of the now-posted Part 2, I should more prudently have spun off a Part 3, but we made it to the end of whatever-this-is with the aforementioned Part 2. Whew!
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