As his 10-plus essays in that form attest, Tchaikovsky thought of himself primarily as an opera composer. Today we think of him chiefly in connection with his ballets - each one a masterpiece - and symphonies, whose popularity is if anything even greater.
At least the last three. You know the old saw: "Tchaikovsky wrote three symphonies, the Fourth, Fifth and Sixth." Even in his day the earlier three had a hard time making it in the concert world. Admittedly they do not achieve the profundity of the Sixth, the famous "Pathetique" - few things in Russian music do - but we are in a better position to appreciate their lyrical freshness and frequently exuberant charm.Especially on the above Chandos set with Mariss Jansons and the Oslo Philharmonic, hardly the likeliest group, one would have supposed, to come up winners in the Tchaikovsky sweepstakes. Yet that is what has happened since these recordings began appearing individually some years ago.
Now they are gathered, along with the same team's "Manfred" Symphony - formally not one of the six, but fully worthy of inclusion here - and "Capriccio Italien," each of which maintains the same high level. Indeed, I have no hesitation in proclaiming this the finest set of the Tchaikovsky symphonies before the public today and certainly the best on CD, where the competition is anything but slight.
That's a tall order in the oft-recorded Fourth, Fifth and Sixth symphonies. But, as I have noted before, especially in the last two, Jansons' excitingly committed performances seem to me the equal of any. And I have not forgotten his late Leningrad colleague Yevgeny Mravinsky, whose stereo remake of the "Pathetique" in particular stands among the great recordings of that piece.
Here happily is the same idiomatic fire coupled with playing of even greater balance and discipline. Unlike Mravinsky's Fourth and Fifth, however, Jansons resists the temptation to overdo things in the finales. Yet I doubt one could want a more blazing conclusion to the Fourth than his (the "fate" motive superbly punctuated by the Oslo brass) or a more musically aware view of the rest. Witness the expressive handling of the slow movement and invigorating treatment of the pizzicato Scherzo.
That same insight and, by and large, spontaneity carry over into Jansons' interpretations of the earlier symphonies as well. I don't know that I like his "Winter Dreams" any better than Thomas', Haitink's or Svetlanov's, my previous choices in this symphony, but it is certainly in their league, capped by an impassioned finale. And in the folk-flavored "Little Russian" (here in the standard 1879 revision) he more than holds his own against all comers, aided substantially by Chandos' stunning recorded sound.
If the Third Symphony rings a trifle false, and that mostly in the outer movements (e.g., the somewhat rushed first-movement Allegro), this has always been the toughest of the Tchaikovsky symphonies to put over. To his credit Jansons brings out its more balletic qualities (it dates from almost exactly the same period as "Swan Lake") as he does the poetic drama of the "Manfred" Symphony - again, not a perfect realization but as close as anyone has come since Toscanini, and without his emendations to the text.
In short, I find this an indispensible set. And if the prospect of seven not-so-moderately priced CDs puts you off, consider this: You may never have to buy a Tchaikovsky symphony again.
TCHAIKOVSKY: Concerto No. 1 in B flat minor for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 23; Concerto No. 3 in E flat major for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 75. Peter Donohoe, piano; Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, Rudolf Barshai conducting. EMI CDC7-49667 (CD).
TCHAIKOVSKY: Concerto No. 2 in G major for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 44; Concerto No. 3 in E flat major for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 75. Jerome Lowenthal, piano; London Symphony Orchestra, Sergiu Comissiona conducting. Arabesque Z-6583 (CD).
TCHAIKOVSKY (ed. Siloti): Concerto No. 2 in G major for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 44. LISZT: Concerto No. 1 in E flat major for Piano and Orchestra. David Bar-Illan, piano; Orchestre de Concerts Francais, Jean-Jacques DuBois conducting. In Sync C-4164 (cassette).
The Tchaikovsky Second Piano Concerto, and for that matter the Third, have never achieved the popularity of the First, on records or off. And that has as much to do with the pieces themselves as with the ministrations of a Cliburn or a Horowitz.
The Second Concerto has a finale as enlivening as anything in Tchaikovsky. But that is preceded by a less obviously inspired first movement and a slow movement that even the composer agreed could stand some cutting. The cuts we usually hear, however, are not his but those of his pupil Alexander Siloti, whose edition pares that same movement almost by half. By contrast the problem the Third Concerto presents is also one of length, but in this case not enough, as all we have is a single movement, an energetic Allegro Brillante whose 16 minutes have proven an insufficient lure for soloists interested in making a more substantial showing.
I would like to be able to say that pianist Peter Donohoe has solved that problem, as he did a year ago on his surpassingly fine recording (also with Barshai) of the Second Concerto. But as fine as it is, this followup disc of Concertos 1 and 3 seldom attains those heights. Not only is this a less exhilarating account of the B flat minor Concerto than those of Argerich (DG) and Cliburn (RCA, well transferred to CD); it is also a slightly more restrained view of the Op. 75 than Jerome Lowenthal's, with which it is otherwise roughly comparable.
On that Arabesque CD the latter also offers the Second Concerto, like Donohoe's the uncut version but without his incomparable feeling for the music's subtler qualities. Lowenthal, for his part, adopts a more extrovert stance in an impassioned performance that nonetheless suffers from a thuddier accompaniment and slightly spread piano tone.
Against that we have the almost Gershwiny overlay he brings to the slow movement, with its lovely chamber-music interplay of violin, cello and piano. In some ways that is even more pronounced on David Bar-Illan's In Sync cassette, except that since he opts for the Siloti edition there is far less of it. Otherwise this is also a strong performance, a bit hard-edged in places but well propelled, with more than the usual amount of cascading brilliance in the finale.
With its heavy-sounding introduction, the appended Liszt concerto strikes me as a bit less vivid as a performance and as a recording (apparently from a live performance, as one hears applause at the end). But there is still plenty of pianistic power here, too, if you don't mind Tchaikovsky by way of Siloti and the absence of liner notes, a questionable decision in a piece few listeners are likely to know that well anyway.