home entertainment 2007

MOZART
Requiem
classical
Sibylla Rubens, soprano; Lioba Braun, mezzo-soprano; Steve Davislim, tenor;
Georg Zeppenfeld, bass; Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks, Münchner
Philharmoniker; Christian Thielemann
Deutsche Grammophon 00289 477 5797 (CD). 2006. Roland Ott, prod.; Jürgen
Bulgrin, eng. DDD. TT: 52:00
Performance ★★
Sonics ★★ 1 ⁄2
Christian Thielemann is not known for his Mozart and
is no Mozartean, a fact he apparently felt compelled to
bring to the classical music community’s attention: his
latest recording for Deutsche Grammophon is a
Requiem with the Münchner Philharmoniker, served up in
December of the Mozart year like a shabby, cynical donation
to Goodwill, just in time to get the receipt on the books.
Thielemann brings little to the podium here other than a
penchant for deliberate tempos and exaggerated dynamics; furthermore,
he offers no insight into—or even familiarity with—
the work, a deficit that ought to preclude recording this or any
warhorse. His cautious interpretation is a tabula rasa, perhaps
ideal for a chorister or student looking to become familiar with
the score, but not so much for a listener eager to be submerged
in Mozart’s genius.
The Introitus is an afternoon stroll in the park that doesn’t give
tension a chance. The Kyrie is nicely driven, but Thielemann
seems to micromanage without revealing the arc of its mighty
fugue. When the fugue returns in the finale under the text of
“Cum sanctis tuis” (this is Süssmayr’s default completion), it
would appear that pleas for mercy and for perpetual light warrant
identical levels of urgency from the choir. In the Dies Irae,
the strings play with precision but without fire, and the Rex
tremendae wants for the bellows, too. The Confutates is finely balanced
(maybe Thielemann had a chance to watch Amadeus) but
lacks an edge. And the normally transcendent Lacrimosa, unable
to shed its contrivances, never reaches the heavens.
The bass-heavy sound of this live performance adds no
value, providing little in terms of orchestral separation, and a
muddling of the strings and lower vocal registers pervades the
recording. There is generally a fine brightness in the upper registers,
and counterpoint shines through in unexpected places.
Life is too short, and Mozart’s Requiem too long, to settle
for a less-than-commendable recording. Here are three alternatives:
Spering (Naïve 30307), Schreier (Philips 411 420),
and Harnoncourt (ed. Süssmayr, rev. Beyer; SACD, Deutsche
Harmonia Mundi 58705). —Ben Finane
CLARA ROCKMORE
Clara Rockmore’s Lost Theremin Album
Works by Bach, Cassadó, Chopin, Dvorák, Fuleihan, Gershwin, Kreisler, Louiguy,
Mattheson, Ponce, Ravel, Robinson, Schubert, Villa-Lobos
Clara Rockmore, theremin; Nadia Reisenberg, piano; with Jorge Morel, guitar
Bridge 9208 (CD). 2006. Thomas Z. Shepard, prod.; Joe Castellon, eng.; Joe
Trapasso, asst. eng. ADD. TT: 61:03
Performance ★★★
Sonics ★★★★
RECORD REVIEWS
If the ghostly theremin ever had a virtuoso, it was the late Clara
Rockmore. Her instrument, built especially for her by Leon
Theremin, had a five-octave range, and a lower profile so that
concert audiences could have a better view of her hands moving
around the instrument’s pitch and volume antennas.
A violin prodigy in Russia, Rockmore met Theremin in the
1930s, after he’d invented his idiosyncratic instrument, and
quickly became the instrument’s reigning soloist. Her sister,
pianist Nadia Reisenberg, accompanied her and was an integral
part of the act.
Best known as a special-effects tool in space operas or as a
curio that occasionally crops up, as in the Beach Boys’ “Good
Vibrations,” the theremin became, in Rockmore’s hands, a genuine
musical instrument. Her repertoire consisted mostly of
well-known classical pieces that she floated through with incredible
aplomb.
In 1975, after she’d retired from performing, Rockmore
and her sister were convinced to record nearly two hours’
worth of music, only about half of which was released. The
remaining 16 “lost” Rockmore recordings are here. Given the
vagaries of the theremin’s tonality and volume, the sound of
these recordings is impressively well balanced and warm.
To say that the theremin is an acquired taste is to understate
the case—for most people, a little of it goes a very long way.
However hearing Bach from an instrument whose sound falls
somewhere between a human voice and a bowed instrument is
a profoundly otherworldly experience. The highlights though
are a languid and soprano-like rendition of Gershwin’s
“Summertime,” and Rockmore’s measured cover of the great
Piaf classic, “La Vie en Rose.” Again, not for everyone, but utterly
unlike anything else you’ll ever hear. —Robert Baird
rock/pop
JOE ELY
Happy Songs from Rattlesnake Gulch: Pearls
from the Vault Vol. XX
Rack’ Em 001 (CD). 2007. Joe Ely, prod.; Little Johnny Fader, eng. AAD. TT: 49:24
Performance ★★★
Sonics ★★★
a little skeptical about CD collections of previously
unreleased material. For every gem from the
vaults, it seems, there are more than enough reminders
always
I’m
of why experimental tracks, trial balloons, and other
recording detritus should never have seen the light of day.
Fortunately, that’s not the case with Joe Ely’s Happy Songs
from Rattlesnake Gulch, one of a barrage of 2007 Ely releases.
The album is being billed as a companion piece to Bonfire of
Roadmaps, a hardcover edition of drawings and excerpts from
journals Ely kept during more than three decades on the road.
There’s also Silver City, a set of early acoustic recordings, and
two spoken-word CDs of Ely reading excerpts from Bonfire.
Like the work of so many who came of age in the 1970s,
Ely’s encompasses the breadth of Texas music, and so didn’t
easily fit into the categories mainstream record companies
used to sell product. He wasn’t rock, he wasn’t country, and
you couldn’t be both. He’s probably better known for his
occasional hookups, as the Flatlanders, with fellow Texans
Butch Hancock and Jimmie Dale Gilmore, or as part of Los
Super Seven, than for his own, wide-ranging style.
www.Stereophile.com, May 2007 121