Rostropovich Reissue
Mastercellist. Legendary Recordings 1956-1978.
Mstislav Rostropovich (cello/director); Alexander Dedyukhin (piano); Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra/Herbert von Karajan; Boston Symphony Orchestra/Seiji Ozawa; Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra/ Gennadi Rozhdestvensky.
DG mono 471 620-2 (two discs, medium price, 2 hours 14 minutes, ADD). From SLPM139044, 2530 653, SLPM138674, 2531 112, Heliodor 479018, 89645. Producers Hans Weber, Thomas Mowrey, Karl-Heinz Schneider, Cord Garben. Engineers Günter Hermanns, Hans-Peter Schweigmann, Harald Baudis, Wolfgang Mitlehner. Date September 1968, August 1975, September 1960, June 1978, December 1956.
Disc 1: Dvorák Cello Concerto in B minor, B191. Glazunov Chant du ménéstrel , Op. 71. Schumann Cello Concerto in A minor, Op. 129. Tchaikovsky Andante cantabile , Op. posth. Disc 2: Chopin Introduction and Polonaise brillante in C, Op. 3. Rachmaninov Cello Sonata in G minor, Op. 19. Vocalise, Op. 34 No. 14. Schubert (arr. Heifetz/Rostropovich) Impromptu in G flat, D899 No. 3. Schumann Kinderszenen , Op. 15 -- No. 7, "Träumerei" (arr. cello/piano).
Slava! Reissue
The Official 75th Birthday Edition.
David Oistrakh (violin); Sviatoslav Richter (piano); Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra/Herbert von Karajan; Orchestre de Paris, Academy of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, Washington National Symphony Orchestra/Mstislav Rostropovich (cello); London Philharmonic Orchestra/Carlo Maria Giulini, Mstislav Rostropovich.
EMI CMS5 67807-2 (medium price, four discs, 4 hours 48 minutes, ADD). From CDC5 55363-2, ASD2582, ASD3421, ASD3452, ASD3786, ASD3255, Teldec 9031-74719-2. Producers Guy Chesnais, Peter Andry, David Mottley, Suvi Raj Grubb, Martin Fouqué. Engineers Raymond Buttin, Allen Stagg, Paul Vavasseur, Neville Boyling, Ulrich Ruscher, Michael Brammann. Date March 1991, September 1969, November 1976 and March 1977, April, May 1977, March 1979, November 1975, October 1991.
Bach Solo Cello Suite No. 3 in C, BWV1009. Beethoven Triple Concerto in C, Op. 56. Borodin In the Steppes of Central Asia . Dvorák Cello Concerto in B minor, B191. Symphony No. 9 in E minor, B178, 'From the New World'. Glinka Ruslan and Lyudmila -- Overture. Valse-fantaisie . Haydn Cello Concertos -- No. 1 in C, HobVIIb/1; No. 2 in D, HobVIIb/2. Shostakovich Symphony No. 8 in C minor, Op. 65.
The real Rostropovich admirer will welcome both
these birthday compilations since both contain material that has not been
available for some time. DG's mono account of Rachmaninov's Cello Sonata has
long been famous, not only as an uncommonly fine performance but as
Rostropovich's only recording of the work; the four other pieces recorded during
those sessions in Warsaw in 1956 have, however, been out of the catalogue for a
long while. The Chopin has none of that histrionic quality that many cellists
give it: it possesses nobility as well as fire, and how characteristic of this
artist that he brings flawless cantabile and fine colour to the Rachmaninov,
Schubert and Schumann transcriptions but does not emotionally exaggerate any of
them. EMI's extras are the Glinka and Borodin pieces with the Orchestre de
Paris: Borodin's Steppes colourfully exotic, Ruslan hugely
energetic but not rushed off its feet, the Valse-fantaisie
energetic but elegant as well, and for me almost worth the price of the set for its conservation of that almost extinct species -- the sentimental yet militarily dignified French trombonist.
Only one work is common to both releases; appropriately and forgivably it is Dvorák's Cello Concerto. The 1968 performance with Karajan (DG) is deservedly regarded as a classic, but listening in close conjunction it seems obvious that Rostropovich's view of the work had further matured by the time he re-recorded it in 1979. True, the LPO are not quite in the same league as the Berlin Philharmonic, nor was EMI's Studio No. 1 at Abbey Road as splendid an acoustic as DG's Jesus-Christus-Kirche, but both differences emphasize a greater fire and attack in Giulini's handling, an admirable frame for the grave intensity of Rostropovich's playing. On DG the Schumann Concerto is even more remarkable than the Dvorák: recorded six years earlier it is not only an exceptionally beautiful performance but a reminder of how astonishing Rostropovich's playing seemed then; most of us had never heard anything like it before. Incidentally, all but two of the DG tracks were recorded before he acquired the famous Duport Stradivarius; what on earth can he have been playing before then to produce such matchless depth of tone and such a spectrum of colour and dynamic?
Rostropovich is known off the platform for his impulsive exuberance and emotional openness, but as a soloist this is rarely reflected in extravagance or disproportion. Nothing could be more perfectly scaled or Classically disciplined than his Haydn, even when (in the C major Concerto) he takes the slow movement very slowly indeed or (in the D major) he adds cadenzas of quite un-Haydnesque virtuosity (those in the C major were written for him by Britten). Some might find his Bach a bit flamboyant, but the huge tone that he brings to the Third Cello Suite's Prelude and Sarabande and the very wide dynamic range he adopts throughout are reactions to the splendour of that Stradivarius and the ample acoustic of the Basilique Sainte-Madeleine at Vézelay; the Courante is lightly touched and the Allemande as nimble as could be wished.
EMI's other pluses are the famous and magnificent account of Beethoven's Triple Concerto -- more leisured and more obviously a meeting of kindred but different minds than would be found in most performances nowadays -- and the two symphonies featuring Rostropovich as conductor. I was interested by both but not really convinced by either. The Dvorák is massive, with delicacy of detail and a splendidly swinging finale, but much of its energy is heavy-footed and when the second subject of the first movement, already markedly slow, gets even slower on its return, one feels how much Rostropovich loves it but wishes he would not love it to death. There is no doubt of his love of, and devotion to, Shostakovich (the only one, by the way, of what he calls the 'holy trinity of composers who have illuminated my life' to appear in either collection; Britten and Prokofiev are absent from both). The first movement of the Eighth Symphony is often expressive, but it seriously lacks grip, and thus poignancy. Both the Scherzos are on the deliberate side, rather short of malice, and although the second slow movement is much better and the mingling of Tchaikovskyan and Nielsenish moods in the finale is well caught, the ending is not haunted.
Both sets would have been improved by some indication of Rostropovich's commitment to new music; his gifts as a pianist accompanying his wife, Galina Vishnevskaya, could also have been touched on. But he is above all the greatest cellist of our time, and both these commemorative boxes give good evidence not only of that but of his prodigious expressive and technical range. Since his youth he has been 'Slava' to his friends, and many who have never met him call him by that name. In Russian it means, of course, 'Glory'.
Michael Oliver
used by permission
