Berlioz: Symphonie Fantastique—Boston Symphony Orchestra cond. by Seiji Ozawa/DG The Original Source vinyl reissue
Hector Berlioz (1803 – 1869)
It seems drugs, unrequited love and their repercussions were inspirations for artists in the early 1800s as much as today. I’m not sure of the great French composer Hector Berlioz’s drug use but he sure could fall hard for a girl. And sadly, in this case, one that didn’t want to know. The drug in question, opium, the girl, English actress Harriet Smithson.
Berlioz’s infatuation with Smithson inspired his masterpiece, Symphonie Fantastique (1830). Aptly named, this travelogue through the artist’s (Berlioz) dreams and aspirations shows how he interacts with his ideal girl (Smithson). She is represented in each movement by a single theme (called an “idée fixe”), changed in each of the five movements by circumstance. Britannica perfectly describes an idée fixe: “a recurring theme or character trait that serves as the structural foundation of a work. The term was later used in psychology to refer to an irrational obsession that so dominates an individual's thoughts as to determine his or her actions.”
Berlioz’s idée fixe theme represents “the beloved”. It appears in different forms in every movement. Notice the very detailed marks of expression, new to orchestral music.
A happy ending in reality? Well, after a long fascination (possibly stalking, in today’s vernacular), Berlioz married Smithson and what followed was an unhappy marriage, one child, and eventual divorce.
The inspiration for Symphonie Fantastique, whatever the reasons, must have been intense for the young genius as the work is renowned as the first romantic symphony composed in programmatic terms, describing obsession, dreams, murder, the occult and execution. In the middle is an idyllic scene in the country replete with shepherds and thunderstorms.
What I continue to find fascinating about the work is the genius of Berlioz’s musical ideas and progressive style, considering the work premiered in 1830, just six years after Beethoven’s Choral Symphony. The advancement in instrumental techniques compared to Beethoven is consequential and this is tied to great inspiration.
The five movements are titled:
"Rêveries – Passions" (Daydreams – Passions)
"Un bal" (A Ball)
"Scène aux champs" (Scene in the Fields)
"Marche au supplice" (March to the Scaffold)
"Songe d'une nuit du sabbat" (Dream of a Witches' Sabbath)
The orchestration of all five movements is revolutionary as one would expect from the man who wrote the textbook on the subject. And in this famous performance by Seiji Ozawa, we get not only perfect form and the very best playing but all the colours of Berlioz’s imagination. The original DG recording was released in 1973 and was recorded in Symphony Hall, Boston.
The sound engineer was Hans-Peter Schweigmann. Discogs suggest he was prevalent in DG recording sessions, with hundreds of releases to his name. Even without the magic touch of the Emil Berliner Studios for DG’s The Original Source releases, the recording was quite good, not typical of DG spotlighting, light bass, and odd perspective (MTT’s BSO/DG Debussy Images is a fine recording from this era, too, his Stravinsky Rite, plain weird!). As such, this four-track recording was fairly well balanced and specifically allowed the individual timbre of the famous Boston soloists their identity. As a Seiji fanboy in my early days of conducting studies (and to this day), this was my go-to Fantastique. The playing has no betters and because of Ozawa’s beautiful interpretation (and the faultless playing), I made allowances for the sound. It was never going to beat the Ataúlfo Argenta (Decca/Paris Conservatoire Orch) and Massimo Freccia (Chesky reissue/Royal Phil) audiophile gems in my collection, but that’s now. Back then, audiophile? I didn’t care, at least on my meagre student gear.
Because of the two great audiophile pressings, I hadn’t listened to the Ozawa for some time. So, it was a pleasant discovery that Emil Berliner was going to remaster/recut the record. This glorious performance would be finally getting the royal audiophile treatment it deserves.
So, how’d they do?
In a word, magnificently.
Photo credit: Kyodo News
Sound
The vinyl came flat and silent. Always a good start. Spacing on a Fantasique vinyl recording can be difficult because of the length of the middle "Scène aux champs", a movement replete with groove-needy thunderstorms, etc. Happily, no inner groove distortion and it was complete on Side 2.
The performance is famous. It features crackerjack ensemble with very refined solos. And Ozawa whips up the frenzy for all he’s worth. It doesn’t faze the magnificent Bostonians. Bring it on!
The recut is very successful. Typical (now we can say that) of the Emil Berliner team, they keep the glories of Boston Symphony Hall and its famous acoustic but orchestral sonorities are tight and beautifully balanced (for most BSO recordings, they remove the seats and the orchestra is recorded from the floor of the hall).
It begins at bar one with the very difficult (to conduct) "Rêveries – Passions" with some wistful daydreaming by the composer. The rude interjections by the insistent basses have never been heard (or played) better. Also, listen for the double bass pizzicato triplets from high Db down to a low G (49 Hz) (4 bars after A). Such a glorious sound from the basses. Audiophile dream time.
The object of Berlioz’s desire, Harriet Smithson circa 1822. Painting by Elizabeth Inchbald.
"Un bal" (A Ball) is a swirling, heady affair, again with magnificent playing, with the two favourites, “Marche au supplice" (March to the Scaffold) and "Songe d'une nuit du sabbat" (Dream of a Witches' Sabbath) suitably demonic. There are so many wonderful markings in the score (how’s your French?) that Ozawa and the orchestra nail every time (“col legno”, strings played with the wood side of the bow, very specific markings for timpani stick type, glissandos on woodwind instruments, etc). The important tolling bells in “Sabbath” are natural (real large bells owned by the orchestra, not piped in later in the mix), and in keeping with Berlioz's very strict dynamic markings.
By comparison, my go-to audiophile Berlioz, Wilkie’s gem from 1962 Walthamstow with the Royal Philharmonic conducted by Massimo Freccia, cannot keep up with the Boston Joneses for precision but does fare well with the solos. But even the magic from Emil Berliner’s Rainier Mailliard and Sydney Meyer cannot top Wikie and his famous Decca “tree”. Close, very close, so close, that the precision of the Boston Symphony and Ozawa’s magic make it a first recommendation.
Happily, the great man is still with us. I hope he gets a copy and hears it on a top-class system.
They’ve only pressed 3000 copies, so buy it before it’s sold out for every musical, emotional and visceral reason you can think of. And then some! Very highly recommended.
