This disc completes Marin Alsop’s Samuel Barber orchestral music traversal for Naxos. Overall, it is a distinguished collection, and although this wrap-up falters a bit, its merits are substantial enough to satisfy completists who want the whole package. The posthumous Canzonetta (the only near-finished movement of a projected oboe concerto) is a case in point. While Stéphane Rancourt obviously is a fine oboist, her relatively slow performance doesn’t project a unified musical story-line. Humbert Lucarelli’s rendition on Koch does, and his remains my favorite in this music, even though his accompanying ensemble is not as fine as the Royal Scottish National Orchestra.
In the much better-known Capricorn Concerto, however, Rancourt’s performance and understanding of the work are exemplary. She and her partners, John Gracie and Karen Jones, present an unusual and compelling point of view. The three soloists are supposed to portray the characters of Barber and his housemates at Capricorn Cottage. Other performances have done well by this piece while emphasizing the sunny quality that the house was noted for. (The best realization of this interpretation is by Leonard Slatkin.) Alsop and company give it an unusually edgy character. It reminds us that the presence of two rather highly-strung composers (Barber and Gian-Carlo Menotti) under the same roof might have made for periods of considerable tension.
The most disappointing offering on the disc is the darkly impressionistic Fadograph of a Yestern Scene (the title is taken from Finnegan’s Wake). The interpretation does not cohere and there are moments of suspect intonation and imperfect ensemble. The late Andrew Schenck perfectly captured this music’s deep nostalgia, and his New Zealand players are much better than the ones here.
On the plus side, the full orchestral brass section does well by a minor Barber effort, Mutations from Bach (a/k/a Meditations on a theme from Bach), and the deep sense of hurt that is the point of the Intermezzo from the opera Vanessa is as well-conveyed here as anywhere. We’re also treated to a top-flight performance of the 10-minute pocket opera A Hand of Bridge, a reading that makes the disc indispensable for the Barber fan. Menotti’s libretto is simple: Two couples play bridge, while each, emotionally detached from the others, has his or her own secret stream of preoccupation. The mundane acts of bidding, playing, and commenting on the play are given in dry recitative fashion, but the inner thoughts are revealed to us in expressive lyrical lines. This piece was recorded in the 1950s, when it was new, under the direction of Vladimir Golschmann, but Alsop and her vocal quartet make stronger drama out of it. This performance is less bitchy, with a greater feeling of hopelessness than in Golschmann’s version.
In sum, the three best pieces on the disc are all expertly performed and well recorded, making the disc worth owing for these selections alone–however the performance rating suffers slightly for the less-impressive renditions of the Canzonetta and Fadograph.
