June 10, 2004

by Constantine Soo
1877 was one of the most tumultuous years in the life of the Russian
composer, Peter Tchaikovsky.  A homosexual in an intolerant age,
Tchaikovsky was working on his
Symphony No. 4 when he entered into a
matrimony with an infatuating female pupil, the only marriage he would ever
have in his life.  The tragic effect of their subsequent separation nine months
later was cushioned considerably by the composer‘s fateful rendezvous with
the wealthy, 46-year-old widow patroness Nadezhda von Meck a year before,
who not only compensated the composer’s separated but never divorced wife,
but also supported the composer so that he could compose full-time.

The composer developed fondness for the patroness through years of letter
exchanges; yet they agreed never to meet.  The widow’s earlier letter to
Tchaikovsky stated that:

“There was a time when I was very anxious to make your acquaintance; but
now, the more you fascinate me, the more I fear your acquaintanceship.  I
prefer to think of you from afar, to hear you speak in your music and share your
feelings through it.”  

It was to this remarkable woman that Tchaikovsky dedicated the Symphony.  

Symphony No. 4 is infused with unprecedented lamentations of the composer’
s personal emotions, intensity of which escalates gradually through each
movement, to eminent passion within the last movement.    

The first of the impassioned composer’s trio of latter, “heavy” symphonies, the
No. 4 began with insisting and remorseful brasses in a powerful proclamation
of the beginning of a storytelling.  The lyric melody conquers easily and is to
return to sustain the intensity of emotion throughout the first movement.  Then
comes the amazing second movement.  What begins as a tuneful cello and
viola communion for the first minute or so makes way for an unexpectedly
harmonious and memorable theme to emerge.  A whole 8 minutes of beautiful
music is simply not enough.  This is arguably Tchaikovsky’s most fluidic
composition.

Scherzo, the 3rd movement, on the other hand, offers a cup of tea of different
flavor to those who can’t live without Tchaikovsky’s
Nutcracker but also
believe that they simply have had too much of it from all the Christmas’.  
Another 5 minute or so gone too swiftly.  As for the 4th movement, what a
Finale it is.  It carries so much of the original genius of the
Symphony
Pathetique
, its deep-reaching prowess will leave such a mark on you during
its nearly 9 minutes of playing, you will want to submerge yourself in the
No. 6
quickly before the mood dissipates.

Monsieur Pierre Monteux and the Boston Symphony Orchestra’s studio
recording of Peter Tchaikovsky’s
Symphony No. 4 was completed on
January 29, 1959 for RCA; but the world did not get to hear it until it was
released in March 1960, four years prior to the conductor’s death in the
summer of 1964 at 89 years old.  With no subsequent re-release in the
catalog, it again remained unavailable throughout the ensuing decades until
this JVC XRCD24 release in 2004.  And what a gross oversight it has been,
for in a world of interpretation of Tchaikovsky’s
No. 4 that continues to be
dominated by non-Russian readings, this re-release strikes me as surprisingly
Russian.

The 1st and 2nd movements were from the same take as evident in the 5
second or so of recess between the movements, while the 3rd and the 4th
were from another take in the similar fashion.  Two distinct moods are evident
from each take that bode extremely well with the listener as the Symphony
progresses, when the first two movements of andante’s of sorts attempt to
communicate the melancholy that was most heavy on Tchaikovsky’s mind,
then alleviated and released afterwards by the considerably more festive and
jollier "Scherzo" and "Finale".  

This reading is a testimony on how a French conductor could bring out not
merely the passion in the music, but also with a rather contagious and
subliminal control of varying intensity.  It is also a testimony on why a matured
and seasoned conductor is always preferred in mustering interpretation of a
consummating work of a young composer.  If you consider Tchaikovsky’s
Pathetque No. 6 his most monumental and towering among his Symphonies,
you will find the 85-year-old Monteux’s
No. 4  miraculously delicious in its
unworldly, younger, and convincingly authentic sensibility.  

The element utilized in this remastering went beyond the proprietary K2
Technology and XRCD24 processing: JVC utilized a custom-built 3-channel
analog playback system for the remastering of the original master tape, which
was recorded originally on a 3-channel tape recorder owned by Marlboro
School of Music, Inc. in 1959.  
3-CHANNEL ANALOG TAPE
PLAYBACK HEAD
ORIGINAL ANALOG TAPE PLAYER
The result is a modern sounding recording carried by one of the most
advanced Redbook CDs in existence, as channel separation of the JVC disc
rivals that in any other audiophile grade production, with a resolution that is
simply unheard of considering the vintage.  This XRCD24 ‘s timbre portrayal
is hugely competitive to many recordings of the day, as exchanges among
woodwinds such as clarinet, oboe, bassoon and flute are rich in palettes of
sonorities audiophiles can readily appreciate.  

Although this remade vintage concedes to the fluidity and smoothness of the
likes of DSD-originated discs, such as Philips’ 2002 release (Philips 478 617-
2) of the hybrid SACD
Dvorak: Symphonies 8 & 9, and Deutsche
Grammophon’s 2003 DSD re-master of Carlos Kleiber’s 1975 recording of
the
Beethoven Symphony No. 5 & 7 (DG 471 630-2), in by itself, the JVC
XRCD24 goes far beyond simply making an old vintage sounding more
acceptable.

Background tape hiss is all but gone, so much so that one can make out the
continuity of takes between the movements,  creating a truly high fidelity
enjoyment of a monumental, 1959 recording for the first time.  Also, a far cry
from other “Living Stereo” releases of recordings of the same era, this
XRCD24 exhibits an absolute absence of sound bit dropouts, and stability of
the stereophonic effect, plus equally excellent image focus, suggest that the
recording appears to have been made recently.  

This XRCD falls short in a persistence of two residual sonic aspects of the
“Living Presence” series of CDs.  When played through the Tannoy Churchill
Wideband speakers with the 15-inch Dual-Concentric™ driver design, a
bloating of images, an effect similar to objects in a photo being inspected with
a magnifier, occurred.  Alternatively, the effect is not as striking when used
with all other speakers, including the extremely resolving Audio Note AN-E
SEC Silver, which recreated appreciably 3-dimensional instruments and a
rather spacious soundstage.

The second relic of the “Living Presence” sound is a concession of dynamics
at certain points in only the violins’ playing and nowhere else, sounding
noticeably compressed only during unisons of fortissimos at the upper ranges,
at the same time degrading in dimensionality momentarily to the point of near
mono.  Away from those moments, the violins become detailed, layered and
smooth.

For an occasionally nostalgic person like me who enviously and frequently
look to the 50s and 60s, release of this caliber assures me of a musical living
that will again be infused with extraordinary substance from the artistry of
giants from bygone days.

If only Monteux had lived to this day to witness his work of art sounding so
fantastic.
Review System:

47 Laboratory 4704 PiTracer CD transport with two Power Humpties
Harmonix Reimyo DAP-777 20bitK2 DAC
Harmonix Reimyo CAT-777 preamplifier
Harmonix Reimyo PAT-777 300B power amplifier
Audio Note AN-E SEC Silver speakers

Via Audio Note Sogon digital cable, Sogon interconnects, AN-Vx interconnects,
AN-SPx speaker cable, Harmonix Reimyo Studio Master AC cords.

 

Please send us your feedback: editor@dagogo.com

©Dagogo 2004. All rights reserved.

PIOTR ILLICH TCHAIKOVSKY (1840-1893)
SYMPHONY NO. 4 in F Minor, Op. 36
PIERRE MONTEUX, conductor
BOSTON SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA
JVC XRCD24 24-bit Super Analog CD  (JM-XR24015)