[Bret L]

Lenny Revisited

peteraczel | 18 November, 2009 16:43

"Reissues of classic performances conducted by Leonard Bernstein, new recordings of music composed by him—they keep coming. I have never been a Lenny worshipper; his personality always rubbed me the wrong way, at least a little bit; but all this discographic pressure is getting to me. Is it possible that I overlooked something? Maybe I was wrong? Maybe he was as great as they say?

Joseph Haydn: The 6 Paris Symphonies; the 12 London Symphonies; the 4
Masses; Die Schöpfung (The Creation). New York Philharmonic (except
one disc w/London Symphony Orchestra), Leonard Bernstein, conductor.
Sony Classical 88697/480452 (12 CDs, recorded 1958–1979, released as a
boxed set 2009).

Gustav Mahler: Symphonies No. 1 through No. 9; Symphony No. 10,
Adagio; Das Lied von der Erde. New York Philharmonic (except No. 8 w/
London Symphony Orchestra and Das Lied w/Israel Philharmonic
Orchestra), Leonard Bernstein, conductor, various vocal soloists. Sony
Classical 88697/453692 (12 CDs, recorded 1960–1975, remixed/remastered
and released as a boxed set 2009).

Leonard Bernstein: Mass. Randall Scarlata (baritone), Company of
Music, Tölzer Knabenchor, Chorus Sine Nomine, Absolute Ensemble,
Tonkünstler-Orchester Niederösterreich, Kristjan Järvi, conductor.
Chandos CHSA 5070(2) (2 SACDs, recorded 2006, released 2009).

Leonard Bernstein: Mass. Jubilant Sykes (baritone), Morgan State
University Choir, Peabody Children’s Chorus, Baltimore Symphony
Orchestra, Marin Alsop, conductor. Naxos 8.559622-23 (2 CDs, recorded
2008, released 2009).

Leonard Bernstein: Dybbuk – Ballet (1974); Fancy Free – Ballet (1944).
Mel Ulrich, baritone; Mark Risinger, bass; Nashville Symphony, Andrew
Mogrelia, conductor. Naxos 8.559280 (1 CD, recorded 2005/2006,
released 2006).

The key to understanding Leonard Bernstein (1918–1990) is to realize
that his spring was wound tighter at birth than yours or mine. He was
on the verge of spontaneous combustion at all times, like a Jack
Russell terrier pup. That’s why he couldn’t settle down to one thing;
his compulsive energies drove him to be all things—conductor, pianist,
classical composer, Broadway composer, poet, teacher, broadcaster,
political activist, and more. Some think he would have been a greater
conductor, or a greater composer, if he had chosen to do that one
thing only; this is questionable and unprovable. He was what he was,
not what anyone else would have wanted him to be.

His explosive activism, his unceasing interventionism defined both his
musical and social personality. To me he was something of a turnoff
for many years; I could not relate to his orgiastic dancing on the
conductor’s podium nor to his lovefest with the Black Panthers at that
notorious 1960s party. There was a documentary film of Lenny in his
family circle in the late ’60s or early ’70s, and I remember being
struck by his speech mannerisms and body language, which were those of
a cheesy Las Vegas celebrity. Today I realize that all that was
irrelevant—or maybe relevant only to the extent that it was consistent
with his music-making, which is all that remains and all that matters.
His interpretations of other composers as well as his own compositions
were exuberant, untrammeled, extroverted, high-energy, sometimes
verging on vulgarity—just like the man.

Mahler

His conducting of Mahler is a prime example. I recently saw a film
clip of Bernstein in rehearsal, desperately pleading with the Vienna
Philharmonic (in horrible German) that they must go to extremes in
Mahler, otherwise it isn’t Mahler. After listening to the reissues in
the Sony boxed set, I have to agree. This is music of extreme
contrasts; its corners, spikes, and ridges shouldn’t be smoothed out
but emphasized; and that’s what Bernstein does, while still
maintaining the shapeliness of the music, its structure and
continuity. He is the supreme music teacher (old-timers will recall
those fabulous TV programs); he seems to say, “see, kids, this is the
way this phrase goes, can’t you hear it?”—and the calisthenics and
contortions on the podium visually illustrate his emphatic scanning of
the phrase. It all makes sense to me now. I must confess that after
Bernstein other conductors’ Mahler sounds a little bland to me. That’s
a reversal of previous judgments.

One must also remember that these 1960s recordings launched the new
era in which Mahler became mainstream; previous recordings by
Mengelberg, Walter, Mitropoulos, etc., had been regarded as
specialties. Bernstein emerged as the new baseline then, not something
extreme as later became the conventional view. To me he is again the
baseline, from which other performances deviate desirably or
undesirably. That perspective is greatly facilitated by the 2009
remixing/remastering, which is quite remarkable. The audio quality of
these rejuvenated early stereo recordings is almost on the level of
the best current practice. The treble is perhaps less fine-grained and
a tiny bit more aggressive; there is a little less air around he
instruments; but the dynamic range is wide, the instrumental colors
vivid, the bass powerful and well-delineated, the overall realism
splendid. Fidelity is no longer the issue in comparison with more
recent recordings. What a collection!

Haydn

The same observations, in somewhat simpler terms, can be applied to
the Haydn set. Haydn’s music is also about contrasts and surprises,
which are more convincing when vigorously emphasized, as they are by
Bernstein. You wouldn’t expect the great Mahler interpreter to be also
a Haydn specialist, but he is—and for the same reasons. His didactic
scanning of Haydn’s contrasting phrases reveals the metrical structure
of the music more clearly than any Karajanesque smoothing possibly
could. The symphonies emerge fresher, more original, more powerful
(when apropos) under his baton than in other interpretations. I’m not
saying that his way with Haydn takes precedence over all others in my
judgment; a case can be made for a more rococo approach; but while I’m
listening his way is utterly persuasive. Haydn meets Mahler under the
eurhythmic teaching umbrella of Lenny. This is the way the phrase
goes, kids…crouch…leap…slash… What an instructor!

It must be added that there is not a trace of “period practice” in
these performances. No reduced forces, no early instruments, no
squeaky nasal strings. The audio quality is not quite on the level of
the Mahler set; these recordings have been simply reissued rather than
remixed and remastered. The string sound is occasionally a little
pinched; there is less air around the instruments; the dynamic range
is sometimes a bit strained; but overall the sound is still quite
acceptable and enjoyable even in comparison with present-day
recordings. Let’s face it, would you rather listen to an ultrahigh-
fidelity recording of some vibrato-less “authentic” 18th-century-style
bore-fest?

Bernstein

When it comes to his own compositions, Bernstein’s “multiple
personality” really asserts itself. They’re all over the place—
classical, pop, concert hall, Broadway, dead serious, completely
frivolous, strictly formal, loosey-goosey, long, short, restrained,
over-the-top, you name it. A few of his show tunes, such as “New York,
New York” and “Tonight” are on their way to immortality; whether his
serious music will remain in the permanent repertory remains to be
seen.

The earliest work in the collection listed above is the 1944 ballet
Fancy Free, composed by the 25-year old Lenny and rather derivative in
style—Petrouchka meets the blues, with faint echoes of early Copland
(whose Billy the Kid and Rodeo were composed just a few years
earlier). Overall, it’s a bracing, upbeat piece of music, easy
listening and lots of fun. Dybbuk on the other hand, composed 30 years
later, is much more serious, darker, more heavy-handed, and rather a
bore, at least to my ears. The Nashville recording, which I should
have reviewed when it came out, is very well played and idiomatic in
style, although the orchestra is not quite world-class. The audio
quality is excellent, wide in dynamic range, with considerable
immediacy and three-dimensionality.

The Mass is again something totally different, an indescribable
hodgepodge of styles ranging from high classical to lowbrow pop, from
solemn to comical, from tasteful to vulgar, all of it high-energy and
highly committed—like Lenny. It’s a mass in name only; it’s more of a
sociopolitical diatribe. Only an enormously talented composer could
have created it, and only someone with Lenny’s flaws could have made
it so flawed. Some critics consider it a masterpiece, others merely
embarrassing. Of the two recordings, the Naxos with Marin Alsop and
the Baltimore band is unquestionably superior. The strengths of the
Chandos recording are Randall Scarlata as the Celebrant and the boys’
choir of Bad Tölz, but the Celebrant in the Naxos version, Jubilant
Sykes, is even better, and Bernstein protégée Marin Alsop has a more
idiomatic grasp of the score, especially of the American pop parts,
than Kristjan Järvi (Paavo’s brother). All in all, I can’t imagine a
more resplendent performance than the Alsop/Baltimore, and the audio
is also state-of-the art, with tremendous dynamic range, majestic
bass, great transparency, and wonderful three-dimensionality. By
comparison, the Chandos sound, SACD and all, is unimpressive and not
always appropriate to the music.

To sum up…

So—how great was Lenny, everything considered? I think that as a
didactic conductor, as a musical explainer, he had no equal.
Admittedly, that’s only one kind of conducting, so the special niches
of Toscanini, Furtwängler, Reiner, Karajan, etc., remain unaffected.
As a composer, you can call Bernstein interesting, brilliant, lovable,
pick your own adjective—but not great. Greatness is very hard to
define but easy to experience. I haven’t experienced it when listening
to Bernstein’s music. But that’s just one music lover’s opinion. "

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