There’s an unwritten rule that many artists do their best work in repertoire that seems atypical of their style or predilections. Such is the case here. Kurt Masur values above all his core German repertoire in which he delivers highly professional but frequently dull results. These two discs, on the other hand, are simply marvelous in every way. Masur’s performance of Arthur Honegger’s Joan of Arc at the Stake plays to his strengths as a compelling director of large choral works. Marthe Keller reprises the same title role that she recorded for DG under Seiji Ozawa, but Masur’s orchestra, chorus, and supporting cast are all finer than Ozawa’s French forces. The big scenes–Joan Given Up to the Beasts, The King Who Is Going to Rheims, and The Sword of Joan–all spring to life with impressive vividness, and the final apotheosis, when Joan breaks her chains and proclaims the triumph of divine love, is really moving.
Stravinsky’s all-too-rarely-heard Perséphone also sounds very impressive, with Keller again doing the talking and tenor Stuart Neill the (solo) singing. Neill recorded the work recently with Michael Tilson Thomas and the San Francisco Symphony for RCA, an excellent performance that this live one neither eclipses nor suffers from comparison. Masur’s view of the piece is a bit more expansive overall and is slightly more atmospheric in Perséphone in the Underworld, while his broader reading of the final part (Perséphone Reborn) arguably gives the music a welcome touch of grandeur. Anyone who thinks that the extra time Masur takes makes his version less interesting or lively compared to Thomas should think again. He gets superbly clean, rhythmic playing from the orchestra, a fact that matters every bit as much as basic tempo, and it’s worth noting in this connection that the slowest performance of all three parts comes from Stravinsky himself.
I’ve saved the best for last. This performance of the Pulcinella Suite stands with the finest. Lively, beautifully recorded, and played with absolutely transcendent virtuosity, it reveals all of Masur’s strengths as a conductor concerned most of all with shapely phrasing, just proportions, and judicious instrumental balances. To hear this in action, just listen to the finale’s concluding page, and to the rhythmic tension generated by the perfectly clear individual contributions of trumpet, trombone, and strings. Luminous wind playing in the Gavotte, sharp-as-a-tack articulation in the Tarentella, and sweetly lyrical solo strings everywhere else communicate the music’s elegance and joy with a freshness that will make you think that you’re encountering the work for the first time, and there’s no higher praise than that. If I had to choose a single project to represent Masur’s art at its most compelling, this essential two-disc set would be it.
