Fleet-footed, yet full of substance
Vladimir Ashkenazy (conductor)
Concertgebouw Orchestra
Decca 410 1242
In making a library choice, sound quality is an important factor. To enjoy this kaleidoscopic score to the full it’s essential to hear as much detail as possible. My four top choices pass this test. Sadly, therefore, the synthetic ‘hole in the middle’ stereo and coarse-sounding trumpets of the Moscow Philharmonic disbar Kyril Kondrashin’s wild and wonderful account from a top spot. Evgeny Svetlanov made two recordings, his later one much the better recorded but not a front runner, whereas those by Neeme Järvi, Vladimir
Jurowski, Simon Rattle and Mariss Jansons (I prefer the first and fleeter of his two recordings) most certainly are.
Vladimir Ashkenazy’s 2018 recording with the Philharmonia is recommendable but lacks the adrenalin rush of his youthful 1982 account with the Concertgebouw version. Near the start of his conducting career, Ashkenazy struck gold with a superb set of the Rachmaninov symphonies which also included the so-called ‘Youth’ Symphony, the Isle of the Dead and the Symphonic Dances. Ashkenazy had not only the luxury of the Concertgebouw Orchestra itself but also the hall’s fabled acoustic. This early digital recording scores highly on sound quality as Decca seemed to master the switch from analogue to digital much better than some record companies.
Is the ‘Russian Soul’ often attributed to conductors from the country a myth? Listening to this red-blooded and often achingly sorrowful reading, it would appear not. Like the composer, Ashkenazy is also an émigré. From the stuttering opening bars to that final mad sprint to the abyss, Ashkenazy achieves a remarkable balancing act between symphonic and balletic – for all its power, the music remains light on its feet. The middle waltz movement, taken at a flowing andante con moto, impresses with its uneasy fusion
Ashkenazy achieves a balancing act between symphonic and balletic
of melancholy, reverie and turbulence – unlike the otherwise excellent Svetlanov who, adding three minutes to Ashkenazy’s overall timing, over-eggs the pudding here.
In the devastating final bars, only Kondrashin equals Ashkenazy for edge-ofthe-seat excitement. With one exception, my four favourite recordings let the final tam-tam smash decay naturally – a masterstroke, almost literally – and, yes, I would like a second or two of tamtam reverberation, but the orchestra compensates with a seismic climactic chord. No single version can suffice, but as I must choose a winner, here it is.