There have been three recordings of Kullervo released in SACD surround-sound this year: this one, Davis (LSO), and Spano (Telarc). Is there something the industry isn’t telling me? Are members of the International Brotherhood of Kullervians prepared to guarantee sales of tens of thousands of copies worldwide? And keep in mind that the “Sibelius Year” (the 50th anniversary of his death) starts next year, in 2007, so heaven only knows how many more will be coming. Making the prospects even more daunting, Breitkopf and Härtel has finally gotten around to publishing the score and parts in a critical edition, making performance (that is, reading the actual, previously contradictory notes on the page) much, much easier. Don’t get me wrong: I love this work. It’s a visionary masterpiece of romantic nationalism. Perfect? No. Fabulous? Damn right. But three new ones within just a few months? Oy!
Unfortunately for this latest entry, of the three SACD Kullervo’s this is the least desirable; but it says something about the standard of quality in this piece that taken purely on its own terms, the performance is quite good. Ari Rasilainen is at his best in the last two movements: Kullervo Goes to War has lots of energy, while the hero’s death has all of the raw emotion that the music demands. Compared to Spano and Davis, though, the first two (purely instrumental) movements fail to impress. This is partly the fault of the orchestra–good, but not great, with the oboes, for example, audibly challenged in the difficult repeated-note passage in the Introduction’s development section.
Kullervo and His Sister features a real Finnish chorus singing with plenty of fervor–sometimes at the expense of good tone. As the protagonist, baritone Juha Uusitalo is splendid, turning in a particularly agonizing (in the right way) rendition of his concluding lament; but mezzo-soprano Satu Vihavainen as the sister sounds like she’s about a hundred years old. Typically fine engineering is a plus, but it’s still not significantly better than the competition, a statement that basically tells the whole story.