Robin Ticciati & SRSO - Berlioz: Romeo et Juliette - MusicWeb International
This is a marvellous set, the finest Roméo et
Juliette to appear for several years, and worthy, in very different
ways, to stand alongside illustrious competition from the likes of Sir Colin
Davis and Sir John Eliot Gardiner. Robin Ticciati conducted Berlioz's great
"dramatic symphony" at the 2016 Edinburgh Festival with the (smaller) forces of
the Scottish Chamber Orchestra (review),
and that made a fascinating gateway for me to approach this piece, because many
of the things that I praised in his Edinburgh performance are also on display
here.
For a start, Ticciati's work with the SCO has helped him refine his knowledge
of and interest in period performance (albeit mostly on modern instruments),
and that has helped him bring frequently revelatory sound. In Berlioz, that
happened most triumphantly in his
Symphonie Fantastique recording (review
- one my discs of the year in 2012), and here he couples the benefits of
"authentic" practice with the scale of a modern symphony orchestra. Most
obviously, the strings use minimal vibrato and so get closer to the probable sound style of Berlioz's own
day. It works very well, particularly in moments like the wistful opening
of Roméo seul, which sounds almost elegiac when played like
this. It also lends particular poignancy to the opening union strings of
Juliet's funeral cortège, and the wandering lines here sound even more archaic
and modal than they normally do.
However, this remains a big sound for a symphonic performance, and no one who
enjoys the scale of Berlioz's vision need fear being put off by what is on
offer here. The opening fight scene, for example, is cutting and incisive, but
also dramatic and exciting, with a big sound in a big acoustic that gives it
helpful resonance, something the Linn team has captured very well.
The Scène d'amour, in many ways, encapsulates the best of both
worlds. The bed of strings that cushions the music is very beautiful, but also
welcomingly transparent. The violas are unusually prominent, for example,
and there is a wonderful dynamic within the string section (in addition to the
more normally remarked-on duet between the flutes and the cellos) which opens up
the orchestral texture beautifully and enormously expressively. This is
even finer than his
SCO recording of the scene, not only because it sits in the context of the
complete work, but because there is more build and momentum, particularly
towards the end, where the violins seem almost to be bidding farewell to the
scene over which they are drawing a curtain.
That transparency also helps the Queen Mab scherzo sound especially delicate
and gossamer-light, but not small: it remains impressively symphonic and larger
in scale than his SCO performance sounded to me in Edinburgh, the horn calls of
the central section only reinforcing that.
It would be a mistake to think that the playing style is the most important
thing about the performance, however, because Ticciati, a confirmed Berliozian,
brings countless loving touches to bring the score to life. The music of
Capulet's party, for instance, seems to approach from a distance, giving the
drama an almost cinematic quality, and when it arrives it has such a swing to
it as to make you wish you had an invitation. He also controls the most
overtly dramatic sections of the piece with a mastery that reminds you of his
experience in the opera house. Every section of the unfolding story in
the Capulets' tomb, for example, is laid out with crystal clarity and great
orchestral colour, from the busy skirmish with Paris and the brass-laden awe of
the tomb's interior, through to the bassoon-led lament for Juliet and the
beautifully delicate clarinet solo that depicts Juliet's reawakening.
The singing isn't quite in the same league as the orchestral playing, but it's
still very good. The semi-chorus of the Prologue sound excellent, balanced
perfectly against the orchestra, and they revel in the harmonies that Berlioz
gives them. The full chorus have just the right sense of scale and
breadth for Juliet's funeral cortège, and they throw themselves into the drama
of the Friar Lawrence scene in a manner that would do credit to an opera
chorus.
Katija Dragojevic has a big, throaty voice which isn't always beautiful, but
which fills the mezzo's role perfectly, and she has a wonderfully declamatory
style for the Strophes, making a perfect fit for both the music and the
archaic oeuvre that Berlioz was trying to recapture. Nor does Alastair Miles sound too comfortable
when he first enters as Friar Lawrence, though he rises very impressively to a stirring
final peroration in which he is thrillingly supported by the orchestra and
chorus.
That doesn't stop this being the best Roméo et Juliette to have come my way
for a long time, something to be sought out by those who love the work but want
to hear it done with freshness and invention. The beautiful Linn packaging
helps, too, with the discs encased within a hardback book which contains
biographies, sung texts and translations, as well as a typically excellent
essay by Berlioz authority Hugh Macdonald.