The opening of Zemlinsky’s Lyric Symphony, with its stark modal harmonies and colorful deployment of brass and percussion, is one of the more arresting passages in music, or at least it should be. Unfortunately, Antony Beaumont plays it as if he’s embarrassed by the music’s unbuttoned passion and brazenly romantic gesturing, instead offering a sterile and safe rendition that’s severely wanting in accentuation and expression. It doesn’t help that the recording suffers from a pervasive opacity that further mutes the impact. You need but sample a few bars of Riccardo Chailly’s marvelous Concertgebouw recording (and believe me, you won’t be able to stop there), and you’ll be immediately swept up in the music’s power and gripping drama.
Though he doesn’t take full advantage of Zemlinsky’s brilliantly staged entrance, Franz Grundheber sings earnestly and solemnly if not with total confidence (Chailly’s Hakan Hagegard has you holding your breath). On the other hand, Turid Karlsen vividly communicates the yearning embodied in the text with her impassioned, silken-toned singing. Beaumont is especially supportive of her, as he seems more attuned to the score’s gentler, “lyrical” passages. The Czech Philharmonic offers a well-mannered, polished performance, but except for the solo violin the players don’t seem particularly inspired to any feats of individual virtuosity, and the orchestra’s fabled sectional transparency gets swallowed up by the recording’s hazy countenance.
Zemlinsky composed incidental music for a production of Shakespeare’s Cymbeline in 1915. The score, which thankfully steers (mostly) clear of Shakespeare’s rather convoluted plot, resembles the Lyric Symphony in its tonal and textural opulence, and it’s quite enjoyable for its own sake–that is, until the final section, where an extended spoken (in German) melodrama continues after the music has died away, and we are left to contemplate Jupiter’s ascent to the heavens. Jaroslav Brezina gives a convincing rendition of the tenor aria, while Beaumont provides capable leadership. Listeners who absolutely must have this rare Zemlinsky work in its complete form, dialogue and all, will welcome this Chandos release (though the piece also is available in a more enjoyable suite form from James Conlon on EMI). Everyone else, stick with the Chailly.
