Showing posts with label Berlioz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Berlioz. Show all posts

Monday, March 11, 2024

Interim post: The proper post is in its final stages -- I got caught up in what I'm calling "Tales of a 'tail' "

I GUESS THIS COULD BE THOUGHT OF AS "Part 2b-ii"
OF OUR ONGOING SEIJI OZAWA REMEMBERANCE


Laurence Thorstenberg, English horn; Boston Symphony, Seiji Ozawa, cond.

by Ken

What we hear (and see!) above is the haunting English-horn solo that sets us in the "Chambre de Marguerite" -- the bedchamber of the now-"fallen" Marguerite, accused of murdering her mother by gradual poisoning and abandoned by Faust, of Part IV of Berlioz's Damnation of Faust. As we will see, or rather hear, however, abandoned though she may be, she spends all her days waiting by the window or outside her house waiting for him to return.

BERLIOZ: The Damnation of Faust, Op. 24: Part IV,
romance, Marguerite, "D'amour l'ardente flamme"


Rita Gorr, mezzo-soprano; Robert Casier, English horn; Orchestra of the Théâtre National de l'Opéra (Paris), André Cluytens, cond. EMI, recorded in the Salle Wagram, Oct. 5-10, 1959

Maria Callas, soprano; Orchestre de la Société des Concerts du Conservatoire de Paris, Georges Prêtre, cond. EMI, recorded in the Salle Wagram, May 2-8, 1963


SPOILER ALERT

Monday, March 4, 2024

Seiji Ozawa (1935-2024)
Part 2b: It takes a vibrant imagination to enter fully Berlioz's and Mahler's worlds

"Romeo, trembling with an anxious joy, reveals himself to Juliet."

From Part I, the Prologue to Berlioz's R&J "dramatic symphony"
SMALL CHORUS: The feast is concluded,
and when all noise dies down,
under the arches one hears
weary dancers grow more distant, singing.
Alas! -- and Romeo sighs,
for he has had to leave Juliet! --
Suddenly, in order to breathe again
that air that she breathes,
he vaults over the garden walls.
Already on her balcony the pale Juliet appears --
and believing herself alone until daybreak
confides to the night her love.
[1:28] Romeo, trembling with an anxious joy,
reveals himself to Juliet,
and from his heart fires burst forth in their turn.


New England Conservatory Chorus, Boston Symphony Orchestra, Seiji Ozawa, cond. DG, recorded in Symphony Hall, October 1975
[NOTE: For the immediately following alto-solo "strophes" (stanzas), "Premiers transports que nul n'oublie," scroll down a ways. -- Ed.]

From Part III: "Où sont-ils maintenant?" ("Where are they now?")
CHORUS OF CAPULETS AND MONTAGUES:
Ah! what a frightful mystery!
[0:30] Récit., Father Laurence, "Je vais dévoiler le mystère"
I am going to unveil the mystery.
This corpse, this was the husband of Juliet.
Do you see that body laid out on the ground?
That was the wife, alas!, of Romeo.
It's I who had married them.
BOTH CHORUSES: Married?
FATHER LAURENCE: Yes, I must confess it.
I saw in it a salutary marker
of a future friendship between your two houses.
BOTH CHORUSES: Friends of the Montagues/Capulets, us!
We curse them!
FATHER LAURENCE: But you've restarted the war between families!
To flee another marriage, the unhappy girl came to find me.
"You alone," she cried, "would be able to save me!
There's nothing more for me but to die!"
In this extreme peril
I had her take, in order to ward off fate,
a potion, which that same evening
lent her the pallor and cold of death.
BOTH CHORUSES: A potion!
FATHER LAURENCE: And I came without fear
here to rescue her.
But Romeo, deceived,
to the pregnant funeral
had arrived ahead of me -- to die
on the body of of his beloved;
and promptly on her awakening
Juliet, informed
of this death that he bears in his devastated breast,
with Romeo's sword had armed herself against herself
and passed into eternity
when I appeared -- there is the whole truth.
BOTH CHORUSES: Married!
[3:27] Air, Father Laurence, "Pauvres enfants, que je pleure"
Poor children, for whom I weep,
fallen together before your time,
on your somber resting place will come to weep.
Great through you in history,
Verona one day, without thinking about it,
will have its sorrow and its glory
solely in the memory of you.

[6:19] Where are they now, those fierce enemies?
Capulets, Montagues! Come, come, touch,
hatred in your hearts, insults in your mouth,
these pale lovers, barbarians, approach!
God punishes you in your tendernesses.
His chastisements, his avenging thunderbolts
hold the secret of our terrors.
Listen to his voice which thunders:
so that on high My vengeance will pardon you,
forget, forget your own furies!

José van Dam (bs-b), Father Laurence; New England Conservatory Chorus, Boston Symphony Orchestra, Seiji Ozawa, cond. DG, recorded in Symphony Hall, October 1975

by Ken

You could say we're getting ahead of ourselves, jumping from Part I, the Prologue, all the way to the Finale of Berlioz's "dramatic symphony" Roméo et Juliette, or you could say we're just catching up with the second of the four "musical talking points" I outlined for our remembrance of Seiji Ozawa, which we heard -- most recently in last week's Part 2a of our remembrance of Seiji Ozawa ("Thinking big musically doesn't preclude making every moment fully alive") -- so eloquently sung by the great Belgian bass-baritone José van Dam. It's "The Oath" that Father Laurence (promoted by Berlioz from "friar" to "father," we notice) pretty much shoves down the vituperating throats of the once-again-warring houses of Capulet and Montague, in the shock of the deaths of their precious children, Juliet and Romeo. We'll be rehearing "The Oath," "Jurez donc par l'auguste symbole" ("Swear then, by the august symbol"), shortly, when we work our way through the Finale of Berlioz's R&J.


AS WE LEARNED FROM THE CONVERSATIONS WITH SEIJI
IN THE BERLIN PHILHARMONIC'S DIGITAL CONCERT HALL --


Sunday, March 6, 2022

Josephine Veasey (1930-2022) [part 1?]

TUESDAY UPDATE: The Dido and Aeneas clip was too important to be left sounding so crummy. I swallowed hard and did what had to be done to upgrade it. I feel better. -- K
FOLLOW-UP UPDATE: The promised synopsis of the Walküre Act II Fricka-Wotan scene, time-cued to our audio clip, is in place, for better or worse (or both). -- K again


The fine London-born mezzo, retired since 1982, died Feb. 22 at 91.
Recit., Dido: Thy hand, Belinda. Darkness shades me;
on thy bosom let me rest.
More I would, but death invades me;
death is now a welcome guest.

Song: When I am laid in earth,
may my wrongs create
no trouble in thy breast.
When I am laid in earth, &c.
Remember me, remember me, but ah! forget my fate.
Remember me, but ah! forget my fate. &c.
-- libretto by Nahum Tate, based on Book IV of Virgil's Aeneid

["When I am laid in earth" at 1:04]
Josephine Veasey (ms), Dido; John Constable, harpsichord; Academy of St. Martin in the Fields, Colin Davis, cond. Philips-Pentatone, recorded in Walthamstow Assembly Hall, Aug. 5-8, 1970
[TUESDAY UPDATE: The new clip sounds swell, I think. Phew! -- Ed.]

by Ken

If you've listened to the clip of the not-quite-conclusion (the chorus still has some obligatory moaning to do) of Purcell's amazingly concise opera Dido and Aeneas, I'm thinking there's not much chance you'll forget Josephine Veasey. With that generous midrange vocal weight (and the needed upward reach too), not something we necessarily expect in a Purcell Dido, she makes those "Remember me"s pretty unforgettable.

The thing is, for anyone who had significant experience of her singing, there wasn't much chance she was going to be forgotten, thanks to the generous aural documentation of her fine 30-year career -- her significant body of commercial recordings supplemented by an array of good-quality live-performance material. She's never been out of my "listening rotation." As it happens, I'd just recently been resampling with undiminished pleasure her Béatrice in the first-ever recording of Berlioz's opera Béatrice et Bénédict. (Don't worry. Though we've heard the clip of Béatrice's heart-rending -- but ultimately inspiring -- Act II monologue before, we're going to be hearing it again momentarily.)


SOME COMMEMORATIVE ROADS NOT TAKEN

I hope the Dido excerpt isn't too "on the nose" for a "remembrance" piece, though I like to think she wouldn't mind being remembered for such classy piece of singing. Initially, as I thought about this piece, I expected it to open with a taste of her Fricka, specifically the Walküre Fricka. As longtime readers may recall, I'm a big fan of her Fricka, and we've heard samples of the very different Rheingold and Walküre roles, one of the unalloyed casting successes of the Karajan-DG Ring cycle. Again, don't worry, we're still going to hear that -- and not from the Karajan recording. In fact, we're going to hear a complete performance of the great Fricka-Wotan scene of Act II of Die Walküre, with the conductor most responsible for grooming her as a legit Wagnerian.

Alternatively, we could have opened with a different Wagner excerpt, if only for the sheer beauty of the singing, though with Veasey, at least in my hearing experience, "characterfulness" was never a separate thing from vocal production.


Josephine Veasey (ms), Brangäne; BBC Symphony Orchestra, Colin Davis, cond. Recorded for broadcast, 1969

Sunday, December 8, 2019

Hey, we've got a bit of music this week! (Glass a tiny bit full or mostly empty? You be the judge)




by Ken

Now I ask you, is that something, or what?

Maybe I should explain just a little. I've been playing records lately -- well, CDs, to be exact, but to me they're records too. This is pretty unusual in itself, and I thought I might want to talk about it, but not now. I thought I might want to talk about the unexpected reasons and ways I've been listening, but I don't want to talk about that either right now. However, I did want to share this bit of music that, in the course of this listening, practically knocked me off my feet. So that's what I'm going to do: share it. Or rather that's what I've just done, so maybe we should all just get on with our lives.

Of course it might be objected that "sharing" is maybe a tad misleading, inasmuch as this music doesn't belong to me and a person can hardly be said to be "sharing" stuff that wasn't his to begin with, can he? Which is the tip of another story I thought I might want to talk about, but again not now.

What I've been doing is reorganizing/reshelving/interfiling a section of the CDs: the non-operatic by-composer section from A ("Albéniz," to be exact) through roughly Nielsen -- excluding Haydn, Mahler, and Mozart, who have sections of their own. It so happened on this particular afternoon that while I was listening to CDs from this section more or less at random, or maybe at will, I happened to think of two that would be a snap to locate and might be fun to hear for the first time in ages. They were by the same composer, but imagine my surprise when I realized that in my filing system the two happened to be right next to each other! I wound up listening to both, but the part that's relevant to today's story is that when I first put on the first of them, a few minutes or so in it happened -- the near-knocking-off-my-feet, I mean.

It wasn't the music, or at least not just the music, gorgeous as it is. But the music I've heard by conservative estimate dozens of times, and pretty much always loved, but not with this feet-near-knocking-off-of effect. No, there was something more, and I wonder if the little clip I've made will have this kind of effect on anyone else. Which is all I'm going to say about it, except that if one lousy 2:21 audio clip seems a mighty stingy musical offering for a whole Sunday, it could have been worse. My original idea was to offer only the first 37 or so seconds, or maybe just 18 seconds, since really that was all it took to blow my mind. Which isn't to say that things don't get a whole lot mind-blowinger as the full version of our clip, which is to say the whole 2:21 you wrung out of me, blows on.

So this could have gone something like so:

37-second version of clip


18-second version of clip


Instead, however, you got that whopping 2:21's worth. Wanna hear it again? We can do that! (To be strictly technical, I can't actually hear what the clip sounds like, for computer-technical reasons I should probably note for the record but don't, you know, feel up to talking about just now, not even now that there's reason to think we've got the room pretty fully cleared.)




IF YOU'RE THAT GREEDY AND YOU STILL
WANT MORE, GO ON AND CLICK THROUGH


Sunday, July 8, 2018

Gennady Rozhdestvensky (1931-2018)



VAUGHAN WILLIAMS: Symphony No. 5 in D:
i. Preludio


BBC Symphony Orchestra, Gennady Rozhdestvensky, cond. BBC Radio Classics, recorded live in the Royal Festival Hall at the BBC Symphony Orchestra 50th Anniversary Concert of Oct. 22, 1980

by Ken

Goodness, we have so much work to do -- old business, specifically look-back business (hint: look again at just the opening images of last week's YouTube clips of performances of Mason Jones's woodwind-quintet arrangement of Ravel's Tombeau de Couperin suite and note the immediately visible difference you can see), new business, future business, business-in-progress) that it would be hard to know where to start, if we didn't have some already overdue business, dating back to June 16 and the passing of Gennady Rozhdestvensky, at the age of 87.

[For a quick and affectionate once-over of G.R.'s life and career, check out Chris O'Reilly's on the Presto Classical website. -- Ed.]

My first difficulty in memorializing G.R. is that from the time my musical awareness expanded beyond the borders of the continental U.S., he was always there, and I don't recall ever hearing a performance of his that seemed less than fully engaged, and I don't mean just in Russian repertory, of which he was, not surprisingly, a heroic proponent. (We'll come back to this point in a moment, in a number of ways, actually.) But it wouldn't hurt us to hear a sampling of that Russian repertory. Here's the glorious culmination of Part I of The Nutcracker, sounding as properly and organically magisterial as I've ever heard it.

TCHAIKOVSKY: The Nutcracker, Op. 71:
No. 8, Scene in the Pine Forest
No. 9, Scene and Waltz of the Snowflakes
[at 3:39]

Bolshoi Theater Children's Chorus (in No. 9), Bolshoi Theater Orchestra, Gennady Rozhdestvensky, cond. Melodiya, recorded 1960


GEE, MOST OF MY G.R. HOLDINGS ARE ON LP,
AND IT'S SUCH A HASSLE MAKING AUDIO FILES

Sunday, February 12, 2017

Nicolai Gedda (1925-2017)

10pm ET UPDATE: We have Yevgeny Onegin audio files!

Anneliese Rothenberger and Nicolai Gedda as Constanze
and Belmonte in Mozart's Abduction from the Seraglio,
from the cover of their 1966 EMI recording

MOZART: The Abduction from the Seraglio, K. 384: Overture and Belmonte's entrance aria, "Hier soll ich dich denn sehen?"
BELMONTE: Here am I then to see you,
Constanze -- you, my happiness?
Let Heaven make it happen!
Give me my peace back!
I suffered sorrows,
o Love, all too many of them.
Grant me now in their place joys
and bring me toward the goal.

[aria at 4:35] Nicolai Gedda (t), Belmonte; Vienna Philharmonic, Josef Krips, cond. EMI, recorded February 1966

Now here it is sung by a younger, fresher-voiced Nicolai --

[aria at 4:20] Nicolai Gedda (t), Belmonte; Paris Conservatory Orchestra, Hans Rosbaud, cond. Recorded live at the Aix-en-Provence Festival, July 11, 1954

Finally, here it is sung in English (from a complete Abduction
recording based on a Phoenix Opera Group production) --


[in English; aria at 4:10] Nicolai Gedda (t), Belmonte; Bath Festival Orchestra, Yehudi Menuhin, cond. EMI, recorded Oct.-Dec. 1967 (now available in Chandos's opera-in-English series)

by Ken

Although Nicolai Gedda continued singing publicly well into his 70s, he had, not surprisingly, slipped out of the international circuit well before then, and since he was 91 when he died on February 8, in Switzerland, it may be that to younger music lovers the Swedish tenor is just a name, if that. But there was a time, and a fairly long one at that, when he seemed to be everywhere, singing more or less everything -- at least everything assumable by a generous-voiced lyric tenor, in the wide range of languages in which he sang with both technical and expressive assurance.


I NEVER THOUGHT OF OUR NICOLAI AS A FAVORITE
SINGER. IT'S MORE THAT HE WAS ALWAYS THERE.


Sunday, January 10, 2016

Pierre Boulez (1925-2016)



HANDEL: Music for the Royal Fireworks: Réjouissance

New York Philharmonic, Pierre Boulez, cond. CBS-Sony, recorded Dec. 22, 1973

by Ken

As I mentioned in my earlier tease, mostly what we're going to do today is revisit some Boulez performances that have found their way into Sunday Classics posts over the years.

BOULEZ THE HANDELIAN

Sunday, May 26, 2013

The young Colin Davis gets off to a running start

The early-career Colin Davis

MOZART: The Abduction from the Seraglio, K. 384: Overture (with concert ending)

Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Colin Davis, cond. EMI, recorded c1961

by Ken

In this week's preview, I took a stab at describing the "happy traits" of Colin Davis's early career: a natural sense of musical flow coupled with a preference for having the music play with determination and make its points naturally. By way of illustration, I offered the vivid performances of Mozart's Idomeneo and Clemenza di Tito Overtures from CD's c1961 EMI LP of nine Mozart overtures, as contrasted with the still-pretty-good but noticeably more forced performances from his c1989 BMG CD of 12 Mozart overtures. We also heard the Magic Flute Overture from both Mozart overture records along with the performance from Davis's 1984 Philips recording of the complete opera.

As I've said before, very likely a bunch of times (at least I hope so!), there aren't many things I value more in the realm of art than the alert musical instincts of a talented musician. That innate talent still needs a whole lot of developing, including in the direction of expanding, both widening and deepening, in order to provide a true underpinning for an artistically productive career. But without this innate musicality as a starting point, where is there for the would-be musician to develop?


EVENTUALLY WE'LL HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE
NONDEVELOPMENT OF DAVIS'S GOOD INSTINCTS


Saturday, December 15, 2012

Preview: Three "K"s -- remembering three conductors who were great artists


The gossamer "Ballet of the Sylphs" from Berlioz's Damnation de Faust is played by the Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by Rafael Kubelik in this 1950 EMI recording, from a four-CD Kubelik "Portrait," one of the treasures that came out of my nearly 17-pound Berkshire Record Outlet carton this week.

by Ken

I'd been good for so long. Oh sure, I usually scanned the new classical overstock and cut-out listings on the Berkshire Record Outlet website most every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, and sure, I dumped stuff in my shopping cart. But that didn't commit me to anything, and I figured that by and large the things that interested me would interest enough other site followers that they would soon enough go out of stock -- "soon enough" in this case being "in time to protect me from actually buying them."

Every now and then, something appears that (a) I really want and (b) I know can't remain in stock very long. Which happened just recently with a CD issue -- finally! -- of the not-quite-complete series of Beethoven string quartets recorded by the Paganini Quartet for RCA Victor between 1947 and 1953. Not only have these never been on CD; I'm not aware of them ever being reissued on LP. And in fact, all the LP copies I've ever come across have been really chewed up. They may not have sold a huge number of copies, but the people who bought them apparently played the heck out of them.

What that means, when there's an item I really want, is that I have to take a look at my shopping cart, to see what might still be available. And apparently it had been long enough since my last order that, even though yes, a fair number of things I'd dumped in had indeed gone out of stock, there was a heckuva a lot of stuff still poised for purchase. I started studying the list like it was a work of scholarship, or maybe a primary source document. I tried everything in my powers (which unfortunately include only a small store of willpower) to jettison items to get the order down to manageable size. But still there remained something like 46 other items (CDs and DVDs, many of them of course multiple sets). What could I do? The flesh is weak.

I won't tell you how much the order came to in dollars, but in weight it came to nearly 17 pounds. Since it arrived earlier this week, andI've only begun to sift through the treasures. But I noticed a number of samplings from conductors of a sort I'm especially fond of.

It goes back to a point I was making just last week, contrasting performers who think they can assemble performances by tacking bunches of notes together following some rules they think they've found in some book or article with performers who understand that the only way you find you way inside a piece of music is by finding how and why it moves from the inside.

WE'VE ALREADY HEARD A MORSEL FROM
ONE OF OUR THREE K'S, RAFAEL KUBELIK'S . . .

. . .  "Ballet of the Sylphs," above, and we'll hear another Kubelik tantalizer in a moment, along with samples from our other conducting "K"s.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Preview: En route to Berlioz' "Harold in Italy," we have to pass through his "Symphonie fantastique"

UPDATED to include some consideration of Berlioz' post-composition decision to make the whole Fantastique a dream rather than just the "psychedelic" 4th and 5th movements


Witches' sabbath -- as imagined by Arthur Rackham
in pen and ink and watercolor

by Ken

Our subject this week is Berlioz' symphony with viola solo Harold in Italy. Last night we heard three very different performances, all with William Primrose as soloist, of the second movement, "March of the pilgrims singing their evening prayer." Our big Harold push comes tomorrow, but just to touch base -- and since I happen to have an extra file left over from tomorrow's music, let's listen to the opening movement:

BERLIOZ: Harold in Italy, Op. 16:
i. Harold in the mountains: Scenes of melancholy,
of happiness, and of joy


Gérard Caussé, viola; Orchestre du Capitole de Toulouse, Michel Plasson, cond. EMI, recorded March 3-7, 1991


IN WHICH WE DISPOSE OF BERLIOZ' SYMPHONIE
FANTASTIQUE
IN A MERE PREVIEW!


As we noted last week in connection with the dramatic symphony Roméo et Juliette, Arturo Toscanini took his Berlioz seriously, and was a great champion of both Roméo and Harold in Italy, which I think we can fairly describe as neglected masterpieces in those years, and for some years to come. After the great triumph of his NBC Symphony broadcast of the complete Roméo in 1949, he turned his attention to The Damnation of Faust, but sadly was never able to solve logistical problems starting with the availability of a suitable tenor.

Curiously, Toscanini seems not to have thought much of most of the Symphonie fantastique, an opinion I don't think many of us would share. The Fantastique remains one of the best-loved pieces of music ever written, and I'm kind of astonished that we're "dispatching" it in a "preview." Nevertheless, the piece's close connection to Harold in Italy, which we'll talk about more tomorrow, makes it suitable fare for this preview.

The history of the Fantastique, both its creation and the composer's subsequent thinking about it, is much too elaborate for us to go into here. But it's well to remember that symphonie fantastique was originally just part of the piece's subtitle. The working title was Episode from the life of an artist, which became the subtitle -- we assume with Berlioz' approval if not at his instigation.

I go into this because Berlioz' thinking about the "program" of the Symphonie fantastique evolved in a number of ways, and there are two significantly different versions, at least for the first four movements. Some of the changes reflect the inclusion of the strange sequel he had by then written, the "lyrical monodrama" Lélio, or The Return to Life. But clearly, by the time of the revised program, he had done some rethinking about the role of the program itself. In the new introductory note, in fact, he says that if the symphony is performed by itself, without Lélio, it's possible if necessary to refrain from distributing the program to the audience -- "retaining only the titles of the five pieces; the symphony (or so the author hopes) being able to offer on its own a musical interest independent of all dramatic intention."
AN ALL-IN-ONE RESOURCE FOR THE FANTASTIQUE

I should express my debt here to Edward T. Cone's outstanding essay on "The Symphony and the Program" in his invaluable Norton Critical Score edition, which presents not just "an authoritative score," but "historical background," "analysis," and "views and comments" (principally by composers). I'm delighted to see that it's still in print, though the list price is now closer to seven than six times the $3.25 printed on my copy -- but Amazon.com lists copies almost that cheap (not counting shipping)!

So by all means feel free to pay little or even no attention to the program. However, if you need to see the program in order to decide how much heed to pay it, here it is, in the revised version, which you'll note now makes the entire piece a product of the young musician's drug trip.

Originally only the "psychedelic" fourth and fifth movements, the "March to the scaffold" and "Dream of a night of witches' sabbath," were drug-induced dreams of the young musician. Edward Cone makes the interesting suggestion:
Berlioz certainly realized that whatever music can or cannot portray, there is no way that music alone can distinguish between the depiction (a) of an experience, (b) of a memory of the experience, and (c) of a dream about the experience. The distinction between waking and dream in the earlier program had thus been artificial and nonmusical, and the obliteration of the division might have been a confession that the descriptive powers of music were even more limited than the composer had hitherto admitted. It is possible, then, that the new program was his way of telling the audience: "Look, don't take all this too seriously; it's only a dream. The main thing is the music."

Speaking of the young musician's drug trip, for $2.97 you can download Leonard Bernstein's 15-minute illustrated talk on the Fantastique, "Berlioz Takes a Trip." I'm not sure if I've ever actually listened to it, but I'm sure you can expect, as usual with the "teaching" Lenny, much useful audible analysis of the piece -- provided you can get past the unfortunate '70s-style marketing hype that seems to suggest, "If you like drugs, you'll love this music."

Just to keep the performance selection within manageable bounds, I've confined the selection to Francophone conductors -- not strictly speaking French, or we would lose our Belgian maestro, André Cluytens. The orchestras aren't necessarily French (or even Francophone), though, but we have managed to work in a couple.

First Berlioz sets the scene:
A young musician with a morbid sensibility and an ardent imagination poisons himself with opium in a fit of amorous despair. The dose of narcotic, too weak to bring him death, plunges him into a heavy sleep accompanied by strange visions, during which his sensations, his feelings, his memories are translated in his sick brain into musical thoughts and images. The beloved woman herself has become for him a melody, like an Idée fixe that he reencounters and hears everywhere.

BERLIOZ: Symphonie fantastique, Op. 14:
i. Rêveries. Passions

1st PART
Reveries. Passions

He remembers first that malaise of the soul, that vague des passions [wave of passions], those melancholies, those joys without origin which he experienced before having seen her whom he loves; then the volcanic love that she instantaneously inspired in him, his delirious agonies, his jealous furies, his returns of tenderness, his religious consolations.

Orchestre national de l'ORTF, Jean Martinon, cond. EMI, recorded January 1973
* * *
Symphonie fantastique:
ii. Un bal

2nd PART
A ball

He reencounters his beloved at a ball in the setting of the tumult of a great festivity.

Orchestre philharmonique de Strasbourg, Alain Lombard, cond. Erato, recorded c1972
* * *
Symphonie fantastique:
iii. Scène aux champs

3rd PART
Scene in the fields

A summer evening in the country; he hears two shepherds who dialogue a "ranz des vaches"; this pastoral duo, the setting of the scene, the light rustling of the trees gently stirred by the wind, some trains of hope that he has recently developed, everything comes together to bring to his heart an unaccustomed calm, to give his ideas a more jocular color; but she appears again -- his heart is torn, dolorous presentiments disturb him: if she were deceiving him. . . . One of the shepherds repeats his naive melody; the other no longer answers. The sun retires . . . distant noise of thunder . . . solitude . . . silence . . .

Detroit Symphony Orchestra, Paul Paray, cond. Mercury, recorded Nov. 28, 1959
* * *
Symphonie fantastique:
iv. Marche au supplice

4th PART
March to the scaffold

He dreams that he killed the one he loved, that he is condemned to death, led to the scaffold. The procession advances, to the sounds of a march at once somber and fierce, at once brilliant and solemn, in which a noise of heavy steps gives way without transition to the most clamorous outbursts. At the end the idée fixe reappears for an instant, like a last thought of love interrupted by the fatal blow.

Boston Symphony Orchestra, Charles Munch, cond. RCA/BMG, recorded Nov. 14-15, 1954
* * *
Symphonie fantastique:
v. Songe d'une nuit du sabbat

5th PART
Dream of a night of witches' sabbath

He sees himself at the witches' sabbath, in the midst of a frightful troupe of ghosts, sorcerers, monsters of every sort gathered for his funeral. Strange noises, groans, bursts of laughter, distant cries to which other cries seem to respond. The beloved melody reappears again; but it has lost its character of nobility and shyness; it's no longer anything but a base, trivial, and grotesque dance; it's she who's come to the witches' sabbath. . . . Blast of joy at her arrival. . . . She mingles with the diabolical orgy. . . Funeral-bell tolling, burlesque parody of the Dies irae. Witches' sabbath round-dance. The witches' sabbath round-dance and the Dies irae together.

Boston Symphony Orchestra, Georges Prêtre, cond. RCA/BMG, recorded Feb. 3, 1969


PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER:
THE SYMPHONIE FANTASTIQUE


Here's a recording I like a lot, which I don't think has gotten as much attention as it deserves.

BERLIOZ: Symphonie fantastique; Episode from the life of an artist, Op. 14

i. Reveries. Passions
ii. A ball
iii. Scene in the fields
iv. March to the scaffold
v. Dream of a night of witches' sabbath



ii at 14:00, iii at 20:26. iv at 36:50, v at 41:39
Philharmonia Orchestra, André Cluytens, cond. EMI, recorded November 1958


IN TOMORROW'S SUNDAY CLASSICS POST --

As noted, we take in the whole of Harold in Italy, noting its connections to the Symphonie fantastique. We'll also have a Berlioz bonus.


SUNDAY CLASSICS POSTS

The current list is here.
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