Béla Bartók (1881-1945)
Concerto for Orchestra (1943)
Four Orchestral Pieces, Op. 12 (1921)
Hungarian Peasant Songs, Op. 100 (1933)
Concerto for Orchestra – Original Ending
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Conducted by Leon Botstein
Walthamstow Town Hall, London, February 21 – 23, 2000
TELARC CD-80564 [76: 22]
In this recording, Leon Botstein presents a compelling exploration of Béla Bartók’s oeuvre, showcasing the composer’s unique blend of folk influence and modernist complexity. The three works included here—particularly the Concerto for Orchestra—invite an interrogation of interpretative choices that both illuminate and obfuscate Bartók’s intricate musical language.
The recording opens with Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra, a piece that stands as a cornerstone of 20th-century orchestral literature. Written during his American exile in 1943, the work reflects Bartók’s synthesis of European folk traditions and avant-garde techniques. Botstein’s approach is marked by a certain intellectual restraint, which, while sometimes yielding clarity, often results in a performance that lacks the visceral excitement that has defined many celebrated renditions.
The first movement, Introduzione—Allegro, suffers notably from a sluggish tempo. The timpani’s emphatic entry at 3:23, a moment typically fraught with dramatic tension, here feels almost languorous, undermining the inherent urgency of the material. The brass, too, appear uncertain during pivotal moments, such as around the 8:30 mark, where their entries should punctuate the unfolding drama with brilliance and intensity. These interpretative missteps diminish the impact of Bartók’s intricate counterpoint, a hallmark of his compositional style.
In stark contrast, the second movement, Giuoco delle coppie, is intended to showcase Bartók’s penchant for orchestral color and playful interplays. However, Botstein’s treatment here is rather sterile; the “brilliant passages” Bartók envisioned become overshadowed by a lack of dynamic contrast. This movement demands a lightness of touch and a buoyant spirit, qualities that elude the performance.
The Elegia, however, offers a more successful glimpse into Botstein’s interpretative strengths. The warmth of the strings and the delicately balanced flute passages conjure a poignant atmosphere, capturing the essence of Bartók’s lyrical voice. The haunting phrase of the flute at the movement’s conclusion is particularly well rendered, showcasing the London Philharmonic Orchestra’s technical prowess and sensitivity.
The Intermezzo interrotto stands in stark relief to the preceding movements, yet here, too, Botstein’s choices result in performances that lack the necessary emotional weight. This movement requires either great warmth or heightened passion, yet it fails to deliver on both counts, rendering it rather colorless. The sequence with harp and strings at 4:15 in the Finale is similarly hampered by an overly brisk tempo that compromises its intended contrasts, particularly with the ensuing fugal section, which demands a more deliberative approach to fully appreciate Bartók’s contrapuntal mastery.
The inclusion of the original, shorter ending of the Concerto for Orchestra adds an intriguing layer to this recording. While Bartók himself expressed satisfaction with his original conception, the revised ending has become the standard, and with good reason. The original lacks the weight and dramatic closure achieved in the later version, which has influenced countless interpretations since.
In juxtaposition to performances by notable conductors such as Sir Georg Solti or Claudio Abbado, whose renditions pulse with a fierce vitality, Botstein’s interpretation appears overly cautious. His restraint, while admirable in its pursuit of clarity, ultimately detracts from the emotional depth that Bartók’s music can portray.
The coupling of the Four Orchestral Pieces and Hungarian Peasant Songs offers a refreshing diversion from the programmatic weight of the Concerto. The Four Orchestral Pieces, particularly the Praeludio, reveal Botstein’s ability to navigate the delicate interplay of Debussian color and Bartók’s Hungarian roots. Yet, the performances, though well executed, still feel somewhat restrained, lacking the fervor that characterizes the composer’s most compelling music.
Telarc’s engineering captures the orchestra’s nuances with clarity, allowing the listener to appreciate the intricate textures of Bartók’s orchestrations. The DSD recording quality is particularly commendable, providing a bright, engaging sound that enhances the listening experience.
In conclusion, while this recording offers valuable insights into Bartók’s music and showcases the London Philharmonic’s commendable technique, it ultimately falls short of the electrifying performances that have defined the composer’s legacy. Botstein’s thoughtful approach may appeal to those seeking a cerebral exploration of Bartók’s work, but it is the visceral and passionate interpretations that truly bring the composer’s genius to life. For those unfamiliar with the original ending of the Concerto for Orchestra, this recording provides an interesting diversion. However, for a more compelling experience, one might turn to the interpretative vigor found in the recordings of Slatkin or Reiner, where the music pulses with the urgency and excitement that Bartók intended.
