Janáček: Káta Kabanová Mackerras

As well as Sir Charles's first recording of Janácek's Sinfonietta, this 5-CD set also showcases him performing the music of other composers whose music he was particularly famed for the world over.

The series of Janacek's operas conducted by Sir Charles Mackerras for Decca has become one of the most exciting gramophone projects of the day, with each issue a major event. The new digital recording of the last opera he composed, From the House of the Dead, is no exception: indeed, for reasons that lie beyond the excellence of performance and recording, and also lie apart from the fact that here is the first version to appear for nearly eight years, this is an historic occasion, a significant contribution to musical knowledge.

Sir Charles Mackerras has a reputation for providing exciting and full-blooded interpretations in Janáček and baroque music and this thrilling collection of Handel recordings dating from almost 50 years ago is a case in point.

Karel Ancerl’s incomparable recording of Janácek’s resplendently barbaric Sinfonietta remains not only the finest available version of the work, but also is the best recorded … Although it was captured as long ago as 1961, no other version so effectively conveys the panoramic splendor of the trumpet-led opening across the stereo spectrum, no other offers such clarity in passages such as the finale’s hair-raising wind writing, and no other balances the orchestra against the massed brass of the closing pages so naturally and cleanly. Technically it’s quite an achievement …

With Kempe at the helm we can be assured of elevated and noble performances. The BBC Legends issue captures him in two concerts given four months apart. The February 1976 concert was given at the Royal Festival Hall and gives us not unexpected fare – Berg – and decidedly unusual repertoire for Kempe in the form of Tippett’s Concerto for Double String Orchestra. This positively crackles with rhythmic energy and dynamism, the strings responding with admirable precision and unanimity of attack. The result is a performance of real standing and a precious surviving example of Kempe’s small repertoire of British works.

Christoph von Dohnányi’s lean and athletic Dvorák Symphony No. 6 is at the opposite pole from the warm, romantic style typified by Karel Ancerl (type Q6828 in Search Reviews). However, both approaches are valid, as Dvorák’s great symphony is at once a heartfelt work with strong classical underpinnings. The combination of Dohnányi’s energetic direction and the Cleveland Orchestra’s exactingly precise playing makes for a crisp and vibrant rendition, highlighted by the sharp-pointed timpani (well captured by Decca’s engineers).

The steady increase in recordings of his music has now established Suk as one of the great musical poets of the early 20th century. Too much is made of his affinities with his teacher and father-in-law, Dvorák; for his own part, Dvorák never imposed his personality on his pupils and Suk's mature music owes him little more than a respect for craft and an extraordinarily well developed ear for orchestral colour. His affinities in the five-movement A Summer's Tale, completed in 1909 – a magnificent successor to his profound Asrael Symphony – reflect Debussy and parallel the music of his friend Sibelius and Holst, but underpinning the musical language is a profound originality energising both form and timbre. Mackerras's recording joins a select band: Šejna's vintage performance on Supraphon and Pešek's inspired rendition with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic; his is an equal to them both and the Czech Philharmonic's playing is both aspiring and inspiring. While their reading is suffused with a feeling for the work's myriad orchestral colours, they recognise that Suk's music is much more than atmosphere. In particular they excel in their handling of the drama and overwhelming emotional urgency of this remarkable, big-boned symphonic poem.

Sir Charles Groves’s sturdy yet affectionate reading of Arthur Sullivan’s wholly charming Irish Symphony was always one of the best of his EMI offerings with the RLPO and the 1968 recording remains vivid. In the sparkling Overture di hallo, again, Groves conducts with plenty of character. There are also first-rate performances of Sullivan’s undemanding Cello Concerto from 1866 (in a fine reconstruction by Sir Charles Mackerras – the manuscript was destroyed in Chappell’s fire of 1964) as well as Elgar’s wistful little Romance (originally for bassoon). This is a thoroughly attractive mid-price reissue.

This is a fine alternative to Christopher Hogwood’s period performance on L’Oiseau-Lyre, and will be welcomed heartily by fans of Marilyn Horne. Orlando is a great role, filled with arias and scenes acrobatic, tender, and exclamatory (he goes mad in Act 2 and stays that way for much of Act 3). In l985, when this present set was taped live at Venice’s La Fenice, Marilyn Horne was still in control of her awesome powers–her breath control, fluidity, big, round tones, impeccable diction, and sheer intelligence still astound after all these years. And she’s certainly superior to the nasty-sounding, if dramatic, James Bowman for Hogwood. Lella Cuberli’s Angelica is fine but is outclassed by Arleen Auger; however, I prefer Jeffrey Gall’s countertenor Medoro to Catherine Robbins’ girly one (both for Hogwood again).