Some Northern Composer Exposure From Bernstein

Two years ago, in one of the more poorly timed marketing brainstorms in recording history, Sony Classical launched its “Royal Collection,” 100 mid-priced reissues of Leonard Bernstein-led performances, mainly from the 1960s and mostly with the New York Philharmonic.

The “Royal” referred to watercolors by Britain’s Prince Charles--on the cusp of becoming one of the world’s least admired people--which served, then as now, as cover and insert art.

Forget Prince Charles. Remember Bernstein, notably the latest “Royal” releases, which include some of the most pertinent components of the Bernstein legacy: the seven symphonies of Jean Sibelius (Nos. 1-3 in 47619, Nos. 4-7 in 47622, two CDs each) as well as works by Carl Nielsen.

While there is much to be said for Bernstein’s later remakes, for Deutsche Grammophon, of Nos. 1, 2, 5 and 7, the earlier readings project an earthiness absent from the later, more self-consciously grand and much slower versions.

And much of what was recalled as the rough (if committed) execution of the New York Philharmonic now is revealed by Sony’s clarifying CD mastering as having been an illusion created by the harsh LP pressings of CBS/Columbia, the original manufacturer.

The greatest surprise of all for a listener long absent from the old Bernstein editions is the patience and affection he brought to the undervalued Nos. 3 and 6, and the linear clarity his orchestra maintained in the abstract and elusive Nos. 4 (what marvelous depth and solidity from the New York cellos and basses!) and 7.

It should be noted that the early symphonies are accompanied by “Luonnotar,” a terse, hair-raising “Kalevala”-based cantata, sung with terrific dramatic punch by soprano Phyllis Curtin, and the rowdy tone poem “Pohjola’s Daughter.”

Denmark’s Carl Nielsen resembles Sibelius, his Finnish near- contemporary, only superficially. Both began composing toward the end of the 19th Century, in derivative styles, with Sibelius nonetheless the bolder of the two. Nielsen, lacking a nationalist bias, wound up being the more progressive and international in outlook. But paradoxically it was Sibelius who proved to be the influential one, mainly in Britain.

Bernstein’s great accomplishment is with what may well be Nielsen’s, the harrowing Fifth Symphony (1922). His shatteringly intense interpretation is coupled with Nielsen’s less menacing but engrossing pre-World War I Third Symphony, the “Sinfonia Espansiva” (Sony 47598), the latter with the Royal Danish Orchestra.

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The conductor seems less committed, and the New York Philharmonic less sharp, in Nielsen’s best-known symphony, the Fourth (“Inextinguishable”), which is here too sloppy in execution and rhythmically discontinuous to make much of an impact. Its discmate (Sony 47597) is the Second Symphony (“The Four Temperaments”), to these ears among Nielsen’s blandest, least viable creations.

Interest picks up, as does the level of performance, with the peppery, ironic concertos for flute and for clarinet, in which Philharmonic principals Julius Baker (in the former) and Stanley Drucker are the hugely accomplished protagonists.

The disc (47599) is complete by a gritty, gutsy collaboration by Isaac Stern, Bernstein and the New Yorkers on Paul Hindemith’s handsome 1939 Violin Concerto.

A pair of worthy new releases also feature these composers.

Sibelius’ attractive incidental music to “Pelleas et Melisande,” “Swanwhite” and “King Christian II” is in the sensitively idiomatic hands of the Iceland Symphony under Petri Sakari (Chandos 9158).

Nielsen’s benign Wind Quintet, coupled with Prokofiev’s delectably nasty Opus 39 Quintet, is played with optimum aplomb and spiritedness by artists of Chamber Music Northwest, whose starry members for the two differently scored works are flutist Ransom Wilson, oboist Allan Vogel, clarinetist David Shifrin, bassoonist Julie Feves, hornist David Jolley, violinist Pamela Frank and violist Steven Tenenbom (Delos 3136).