A spirited and joyous achievement
Neville Marriner (conductor)
Academy of St Martin in the Fields
Warner Classics 2435693585
Respighi’s trick was to capture the essence of Botticelli’s paintings. That’s also what makes the very best of a good bunch of recordings of the Botticelli Triptych stand out. The finest performances relish Respighi’s orchestration (he did study with the master, Rimsky-korsakov, after all), the music’s wonderful colours and its descriptive qualities. Yet, just as Botticelli added layers of meaning to his paintings, so do the truly rewarding recordings also find something deeper below the surface. For spirit and a real joy in Respighi’s musical reinterpretations, look no further than Neville Marriner’s recording with his Academy of St Martin in the Fields, made back in 1976 in Abbey Road Studios for HMV, and repackaged since by Warner Classics.
With a fizz of sound whipped up by scurrying strings, followed by the heralding of horns and trumpets, there’s a delicious sense of excitement and expectation right from the start of ‘Spring’. All the jubilation of the season is here, ensemble is taut, and the playing still comes up irresistibly fresh all these years later. And while Marriner and his band capture a pastoral mood, the music never gets bogged down and instead always presses ahead at a swift pace.
‘Adoration of the Magi’ begins equally compellingly, thanks to the shaping and phrasing of the bassoon and oboe solos. Woodwind and strings are well balanced, and even if there’s the odd unwelcome edge to the string tone, the immediacy of the performance more than makes up for it. The Veni, veni Emmanuel plainchant feels fully integrated into the movement, rather than like a postcard from the past, and when the music moves into its more driven central section, the pacing feels right. The violin solo glints in a lovely fashion. What really elevates this performance, though, is its emotional impact. Other recordings
The playing in this 1976 Abbey Road recording still comes up irresistibly fresh
emphasise more surface qualities, but Marriner ensures that, by the time the bassoon returns to sing its gentle lullaby, we do feel as if we have glimpsed a miracle.
Marriner’s recording is also one of the few that really evokes the luminous quality of ‘The Birth of Venus’, with transparent textures and playing that seems to float and shimmer. Not that he ever loses sight of the overall shape of this movement. The crescendo builds inexorably, the string melody growing in strength until it reaches the crest of the wave. When the opening music returns, after the silence, it feels as if we are in a beautiful dream.