GLAZUNOV: Symphony No. 5 in B-flat Major, Op. 55 “Heroic”; Symphony No. 7 in F Major, Op. 77 “Pastoral” – Moscow Radio Symphony/Nikolai Golovanov
Historic-Recordings HRCD 00034, 67:32 [www.historic-recordings.co.uk] ****:
Nikolai Golovanov (1891-1953) became famous, even notorious, for his superhuman energy and manic drive for the vast repertory he commanded at the Bolshoi and at his various Moscow venues. Golovanov like Stokowski simply adored huge sonorities, and he demanded every drop of musical vitality from his ensembles. The two Glazunov symphonies inscribed here–transferred by Neal Kurz–the 1950 Symphony No. 5 and the 1952 Symphony No. 7, testify to the commitment Golovanov brought to the scores he championed.
The Glazunov Fifth Symphony (1895) would seem to qualify as the Russian colorist’s answer to Beethoven’s exercise in his own symphonic output, a kind of extended heroic gesture in Slavic panoramas. The second movement Scherzo–which had to be repeated at its premier–galvanizes many of Golovanov’s trump cards for rhythmic urgency and deft balance of color detail, the music combining Mendelssohn’s light touch with Liadov’s mischievous nuances. The outer movements enjoy a vital sweeping momentum, the panoply easily traceable to Borodin and his school of “Eastern” colorists after Balakirev. Time and again, Golovanov pulls out the stops to punish the Melodiya engineers in their often futile attempts to contain the visceral sounds that emanate from an inflamed orchestra. The exquisite Andante movement casts a sensuous veil over the Russian landscape, a love song of sweet longing. Its occasional surging outbursts make some concession to Wagner’s Tristan but strictly on Glazunov’s own romantic terms. The last movement’s breezy and inflated Russian sentiments might have inspired Korngold’s more rollicking Errol Flynn film music, and under Golovanov are executed with unbridled enthusiasm.
Glazunov’s 1902 Seventh Symphony makes deliberate concessions to the German tradition, much as Dvorak often constrained his naturally Slavic temperament within Classical forms. Golovanov, nevertheless, manages to infuse every bar of the opening Allegro moderato with his own intensity of articulation, the string and woodwind lines rising in lyrical and jaunty processionals. The bucolic and martial fanfares that alternate might owe color debts to Borodin, particularly to the latter’s A Minor Symphony. But the infiltration of Russian folksong impulses no less belongs to Glazunov, who can charm us in a heartbeat. The heart of the symphony, the grandly processional Andante, conveys something of Wagner’s Parsifal or Tannhauser’s pageantry, but the affect proves more agitated, even Brucknerian. When the melody flows forth, in strings and harp, we relish Glazunov’s invocations of earthly paradise. The Scherzo: Allegro giocoso pulsates with explosive, frisky and twittering punctuations, the martial impulse often reminiscent of Rimsky-Korsakov‘s folkish parades. Golovanov imparts a menace and Mussorgskian grandeur to the Finale: Allegro maestoso worthy of the lavish scenes in Boris Goudonov. The orchestra hustles through a series of bravura string and brass passages, making us wish we had a Golovanov rendition of Rachmaninov’s First Symphony. At several moments, we can hear intimations of Stravinsky’s own youthful E-flat Major Symphony. Pomp, ceremony, excitement–all the ingredients of Old Russia in vivid Technicolor–reasons enough to seek the sensational Golovanov in his natural milieu.
–Gary Lemco
