Fanfare 7

*****

The pairing is perfect. The playing is exceptional, the recording award-worthy. Don’t hesitate

Belarus-born Conductor Dmitry Matvienko took over the Chief Conductorship of the Aarhus Symphony in the 2024/5 season after rising to attention via First Prize and Audience Prize of the Malko Conducting Competition. The Aarhus orchestra is joined in the Prokofiev by members of the Lumbye Academy (Lumbye Akadamiet), a group founded in 2022 by the Copenhagen Philharmonic to provide two-year intensive training for young, post-bachelor’s- degree musicians, to act as a bridge between conservatory training and fully professional symphony work.

The first thing to strike the listener is the recording: so present, so clear. The opening measures of the Sixth juxtaposed rasping trumpets, galumphing lower brass, firm lower strings, tender upper strings. The point is, all are perfect. Other high-level recordings are of course available, but Noseda live with the London Symphony sounds almost anemic and monochrome in comparison (even Gergiev with that orchestra pales); one needs to go back to Leinsdorf and the Boston Symphony on RCA (April 1965, Symphony Hall), with that company’s similarly present sound, to find a decent point of comparison. But as the music goes on, it is Matvienko’s sense of the harrowing that impresses. Written in the postwar period and yet containing an awareness of the cyclical aura of evil, the score seems to point forward ruthlessly toward more of the same (QED, it appears). Matvienko’s presentation is bold and unapologetic: Prokofiev’s barest textures tear at the heart; the score’s “tick-tock” passages seem to remind us that our clock is ticking. And through all of this is Prokofiev’s melodic heart, acidic oboe (Oliver Nordahl) echoing perfectly together with the violins. The Aarhus orchestra, star of many a BIS recording as well as Poul Ruders’s Harpsichord Concerto on OUR (with Mahan Esfahani: see my review in Fanfare 45:6), fine though they always are, has never in my experience sounded like this. Listen to the crescendos around 10 minutes into the first movement: perfectly considered, perfectly delivered. Matvienko is a conductor new to me, so I was not familiar with his operatic/vocal engagements without recourse to the internet, but he makes the music breathe in a way that makes me think that his activities in that sphere must be special, too. I do see, on a little research, that a Brahms Deutsches Requiem is scheduled in Aarhus for April 29, and that he has been active as conductor at the Bolshoi Theater of Belarus.

The Largo glowers like few others, casting its shadow over any attempt at balletic lyricism. The care Matvienko puts into balancing is astonishing: the placement of the trumpet against strings so the brass is a “shadow” of the strings is a case in point, and a powerful one. Pacing ensures the longer-limbed melodies energy organically, nodding to the ballet stage while remaining firmly symphonically-bound. Leinsdorf is searingly intense, it is true, but Matvienko is hardly low-voltage, and his slow-burn tactic pays mighty dividends. When Prokofiev “goes chthonic” (just after the eight-minute mark), how both the Aarhus players, and the OUR recording, step up to the bar, creating maximal space for contrast to the woodwind solos and the beautiful harp contributions that follow on. Melody, of course, pairs Prokofiev with Silvestrov, and how the melody just feels “right” here.

Again, the level of detail at the opening of the third movement is remarkable; but so is the character of the playing. Bassoons in particular shine, against rhythmic, oom-cha strings. I have to pay tribute to the tuba player, too, Jonathan Borksand Hanke, obviously a fine exponent of that great instrument. Matvienko’s achievement is to build a performance of terrific power and energy with the electricity of a live event, but with such preternaturally accurate playing. Woodwind chase each other like frenzied, over-catnipped kittens; brass play with a positively delicious level of (controlled) rudeness. String tremolos bite with a Mahlerian edge, but the climax is more Expressionist, more Bergian. Matvienko speculatively links the massive climaxes to the two atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945, while Prokofiev was at work on this symphony.

True, Mravinsky was a master of his symphony (Daniel Morrison in his review in Fanfare 40:1 of the Leningrad Philharmonic performance given in Prague in May 1967 as part of that year’s Prague Spring, gives a nice overview of what was then available), and Mravinsky’s performances have a level of energy that is quite remarkable. But so does Matvienko’s. This conductor offers great hope for the future: if he visits London (UK), I’ll be there, and should be conduct in the USA, I would humbly suggest if you can go, go.

It was Ettore Causa’s disc of viola works by Shostakovich and Silvestrov (Fanfare 48:5) that really recruited me to the latter composer’s cause. Silvestrov is a major voice; but a voice that emphatically does not need to shout. This is the first recording of what is here called Quiet Music (one might also find Silent Music, Stille Musik, or Tichá hudba). Although streams have been available, this is the first commercial recording. There are three short movements: “Waltz of the Moment,” “Evening Serenade,” “Moments of the Serenade.” In a sense, this music offers consolation after the Prokofiev’s sense of apocalyptic doom. The first movement, ever veiled, sighs itself into existence. No doubting there is a waltz here, restrained, a memory of tonality perhaps. The piece requires the strings to perform with utter control, and how well the Aarhus players manage. The recording allows the lower string pizzicato to resonate beautifully. “Evening Serenade” offers similarly wistful melody; it is if that “sigh” is expanded, melodically. The final “Moments of the Serenade” offers a more cushioned nostalgia, with lower string ascending pizzicatos a connecting factor.

There is further explanation from the conductor about the inclusion of Silvestrov: “Silvestrov said in one of his interviews, ‘I am so tired of the noise of this world,’ I understand that and feel it very deeply. More and more often I walk at night and listen to his music; not in headphones, but inside. And it gives me peace. I want this piece to be therapy and solace for our listeners as well.”

And so, the pairing is perfect. The playing is exceptional, the recording award-worthy. Don’t hesitate. Colin Clarke