André Previn: Diversions; “Sallie Chisum Remembers Billy the Kid” (orchestral version); “Vocalise” (orchestral version); The Giraffes Go to Hamburg; Three Dickinson Songs**
Barbara Bonney, soprano; Renée Fleming, soprano; Moray Welsh, cello; Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra; London Symphony Ensemble / André Previn (maestro and piano)
The recording industry’s current malaise—if we’re to believe the hand-wringing—has at least one silver lining: the majors are finally recording something besides the umpteenth Eroica from the latest wunderkind. This Previn disc represents exactly the sort of intelligent programming we need more of, even if the cynic in me suspects it was greenlit primarily because of the star power involved. And what star power….
Two of the most bankable sopranos of their generation, the Vienna Philharmonic, the LSO, and Previn himself wearing multiple hats. It’s the kind of package that makes marketing departments salivate. The question is whether the music justifies the lavish treatment.
Diversions, written for the Vienna Philharmonic in 1999 and premiered the following January, occupies the disc’s first twenty minutes. Previn structures it as a four-movement suite—prologue, passacaglia, a faster third movement, and slow "finale"—that functions as a mini-concerto for orchestra. The Viennese wind soloists get their moments in the sun: clarinet, oboe, bassoon, horn, trumpet, flute, piccolo.
Moray Welsh’s cello contributions add a welcome darker hue to the predominantly bright orchestral palette. The work itself? Well-crafted, utterly professional, occasionally charming.
Previn knows his orchestration inside out—those decades in Hollywood and — well — on the podium weren’t wasted—and he writes idiomatically for every instrument. The passacaglia has genuine gravitas, its ground bass supporting increasingly elaborate variations that never feel merely decorative. But I kept waiting for something to surprise me, to take a left turn into unexpected territory.
It never quite happens. The music unfolds with the inevitability of a well-oiled machine, which is both its strength and its limitation. The Vienna Philharmonic plays with their customary sheen, though this is a live recording (with the usual DG post-production surgery to remove coughs and rustling programs).
You can hear the slight extra edge of adrenaline that live interpretation brings, particularly in the faster third movement where the ensemble occasionally—just barely—threatens to fray before pulling back together. It’s actually rather endearing. Barbara Bonney’s contributions—the orchestral versions of “Vocalise” and — well — “Sallie Chisum Remembers Billy the Kid”—show Previn in a different light.
She recorded both pieces for Decca in the mid-nineties with piano accompaniment, so these orchestral premieres with the LSO represent genuine additions to the catalog. “Sallie Chisum” is the more substantial piece, a ballad-like meditation on the Old West that avoids the obvious clichés while still evoking wide-open spaces. Bonney’s silvery timbre suits the music perfectly—perhaps too perfectly.
Everything is exquisitely shaped, every phrase beautifully tapered, but I sometimes wanted more grit, more of the dust and danger that surely clung to Billy the Kid’s world. The “Vocalise” is wordless, naturally, and Bonney floats her line with effortless ease. The orchestration is gossamer-light, strings providing a shimmering backdrop that never overwhelms.
It’s lovely—there’s no other word for it—though I suspect it will fade from memory rather quickly. Then Renée Fleming enters for the final two works, with Previn at the piano. The Giraffes Go to Hamburg sets a brief excerpt from Karen Blixen’s Out of Africa, and; it’s frankly peculiar: a miniature tone-poem that captures something of the absurdist humor in Blixen’s prose.
Fleming seems to relish the piece’s oddness, shaping the text with wit and a touch of irony. At under three minutes, it’s a bagatelle, but a delightful one. The Three Dickinson Songs close the disc, and — well — here Previn finally shows what he’s really capable of.
These are serious art songs, written specifically for Fleming’s voice, and they inhabit Dickinson’s compressed, enigmatic world with genuine insight. The piano writing is more adventurous than anything elsewhere on the disc—Previn allows himself dissonances and rhythmic complexities that feel earned rather than imposed. Fleming responds with singing of extraordinary nuance.
Listen to how she colors the word “zero” in the first song, or the way she allows her tone to thin almost to nothing on “imperceptibly” in the third. This is interpretive art of a high order. The release quality throughout is exemplary, though I wish DG had given us more information about the; New York venue for the Fleming tracks—”Academy of Arts and Letters” tells us nothing about the acoustic.
That particular brightness of period instruments catches the ear.
Abbey Road’s Studio One provides its usual warm, slightly dry ambience for the LSO recordings, while the Musikverein lends its golden glow to Diversions. So what to make of this grab-bag? It’s frustrating, finally, because it proves both Previn’s considerable gifts and his tendency to play it safe.
When he pushes himself—as in the Dickinson songs—the results are genuinely rewarding. When he doesn’t, we get music that’s pleasant, professional, and ultimately forgettable. Still, the performances are superb across the board, and collectors of either soprano’s work will want this disc.
The rest of us might sample the Dickinson songs first before committing to the whole program. They’re the real thing.
