Robert Craft’s extremely slow tempos for Schoenberg’s Gurrelieder (adding more than 14 minutes to Ozawa’s total time) make for a Part I that seems to go on forever. In Craft’s hands, what already is a patience-testing, unbroken sequence of languorous (though admittedly beautiful) songs turns into a nearly moribund recitation. Not only is it slow, but there’s a dismayingly enervated quality to the faster passages as well (Waldemar’s “Ross! Mein Ross!”). It’s a tribute to the soloists’ stamina that they can maintain breath support through such long stretches. Indeed, both Stephen O’Mara and Melanie Diener sing with rich and beauteous tone, infusing their respective characters with as much vitality as the plodding pace will allow. Jennifer Lane’s sweetly mournful rendition of the Wood Dove’s song only slighty relieves the torpor.
Part II at first threatens to be more of the same, as Waldemar’s “Herrgott, weißt du, was du tatest” proceeds at a heavy tread; but with the beginning of Part III everything changes. We seem to be at an entirely different performance here as Craft at last comes to life. The music flows more freely and the rhythms and accents are sharper, the colors more vivid. Here’s where Craft’s reputed authority in Schoenberg comes to the fore. Listen to how the multi-layered contrapuntal brass lines in the Night-Ride sequence register with an unprecedented (on disc at least) clarity of texture. Suddenly Schoenberg’s orchestration doesn’t seem absurdly dense, but rather meticulously and skillfully terraced. The remaining characters emerge in lucid portrayals: David Wilson-Johnson’s alarmed peasant, Martyn Hill’s ironic Klaus Narr, and Ernst Haefliger’s blustery speaker. Finally, the Simon Joly Chorale caps it all off with a radiantly euphonious ode to the sun.
So as they say, halfway between heaven and hell is reasonable comfort. But ultimately, you’re going to have to get Ozawa’s recording (on a Philips Duo, including the two Chamber Symphonies–a real bargain!) or Chailly’s for a better all-around performance.
