There’ll Always Be a Berlioz

Hector Berlioz, that most eccentric and innovative of Romantic composers and today only an occasional presence in American concert halls, has been an uninterrupted part of the concert programming in Britain for much of this century.

His continued role there is in large part a result of the advocacy of that country’s leading conductors, among whom none has been more supportive than Colin Davis, who with the London Symphony also recorded the bulk of the composer’s orchestral work for Philips in the 1960s. A shining example of that collaboration was a “Romeo et Juliette” that has dropped from sight.

Not to worry. Davis’ just-released remake for London Records (442 134, two CDs) is even better. Davis has deepened and polished his wonderfully lucid and dramatic ‘60s interpretation--here and there more moderately paced than before--and now has at his disposal the incomparable Vienna Philharmonic, a first-rate chorus from the Bavarian Radio and a trio of vocal soloists headed by the lushly expressive Russian mezzo Olga Borodina.

Berlioz’s other great dramatic cantata, “La Damnation de Faust,” is not nearly so well-served in its latest recorded outing, from conductor Charles Dutoit and his Montreal Symphony Orchestra and Chorus (London 444 812, two CDs).

Dutoit whips the more theatrical episodes into a fine frenzy, but the reflective passages, which dominate, find him an impatient leader, always intent on scaling the next peak. His Faust--Richard Leech--is reasonably convincing in the lyric pages but lacks vocal heft and dramatic intensity elsewhere, while Gilles Cachemaille is a bland, small-scale Mephisto and Francoise Pollet a blowzy Marguerite.

To experience what Berlioz’s “Faust” is really all about, turn instead to two newly remastered, mid-priced reissues. The more recently recorded (1970) has Georges Pre^tre leading the Orchestre de Paris, the Paris Opera Chorus and a fabulous solo trio: Nicolai Gedda, an ardent, poetic, even heroic Faust; Gabriel Bacquier, a wittily malevolent Mephisto; and Janet Baker, who brings to her Marguerite a lieder singer’s sensitivity (EMI double forte, two CDs).

Charles Munch often hectors in his celebrated 1954 “Faust,” part of RCA’s lavish documentation of the Munch-Boston Symphony Berlioz collaboration (Gold Seal 68444, eight CDs).

The Boston Symphony was during the Munch years (1950-62) justly called the world’s greatest French orchestra, not only because of its heavily French-oriented repertory but for the Gallic pungency, with plenty of vibrato, of its brasses.

If Munch does drive “Faust” hard, the thrill ride has retained its ability to excite. And while the youthful college choruses employed are more notable for enthusiasm than polish, the solo trio is nearly as imposing as Pretre’s. The full-throttle Faust of David Poleri may not be subtle, but the voice is a splendidly robust instrument. Martial Singher’s suavely insinuating Mephisto served as a model for all successors, with Suzanne Danco providing a poignant Marguerite.

The Munch set further includes Victoria de los Angeles’ exquisitely refined interpretation of the song cycle “Les Nuits d’ete.” And, most important, it has Berlioz’s futuristic, heaven-storming magnum opus, his “Grand Messe des Morts”--the Requiem of 1837--in a performance unsurpassed, in the four decades since it first appeared, in its intensity, polish and sonic effect. It also continues to provide in the limpid, otherworldly sweetness of tenor Leopold Simoneau’s singing the exemplar of how the high-lying “Sanctus” should sound.

Another attractive large-scale component of the set: “L’enfance du Christ,” the Christmas story, gently, imaginatively told by the composer and, if with a tad more edginess than the score calls for, skillfully conveyed by Munch, a contingent of BSO players, the New England Conservatory Chorus and especially by tenor Cesare Valletti as the Narrator.

The purely orchestral portion of the set includes a deliciously overheated “Symphonie fantastique” and a rushed, ragged “Harold in Italy,” the latter with viola soloist William Primrose, alas, well past his prime.

To experience “Harold” in all its elegance and sassy splendor, try the new Philips edition (446 676), played on period instruments under the direction of John Eliot Gardiner with Gerard Causse the dashing soloist.