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Haydn : The Seasons

Alia Vox  Référence: AVSA9964

Code barres / Barcode :8435408099646 

Reviewer : David Threasher
 

The turning of the seasons perhaps holds less importance for us now, thanks to such innovations as central heating and climate change. It was different, of course, in centuries gone by, when the lives of all were dictated by cycles of weather and agriculture; when (oh, the horror) avocados were not available year-round. For all its apparent naivety, then, Haydn's final oratorio, The Seasons, would have struck a particular chord with its earliest audiences, its sounds and effects imitating essential aspects of their daily experience.

Haydn was his own worst critic, approaching 70 when he was cajoled into writing such 'Frenchified trash' and depicting mere 'peasants' (a term that would have had slightly different connotations then) rather than the angels of The Creation. Nevertheless, The Seasons in no way represents a falling-off in quality or inspiration from its more highly regarded antecedent, and revisiting it is to be struck anew by the strength of its fusion of Singspiel and folk song with contrapuntal rigour and symphonic vigour.

It's a heady brew, enjoyed to the full by the performers in this recording by Jordi Savall's Catalan forces a lithe band based on a string section of 5.4.3.3.2 and a choir of only 21. Strings have (appropriately enough) a springy elasticity to their tone, while the slimline choir are so finely practised (the recording followed a European tour of the work) that their numbers don't count against the

performance in its most impassioned moments, underpinned by bellowing horns and gunshot timps; indeed, the sopranos have a touching fragility as they flee the Summer cloudburst. Matthias Winckhler is a cheery ploughman, Tilman Lichdi ardent even when assailed by the tyrant heat of summer, and Lina Johnson a sweet-toned soprano. All the same, the orchestra is one of the principal joys of this set: from the gloriously transparent string section to the slender-toned Classical-era clarinet, deliciously clucking oboe and all-important contrabassoon adding its faintly obscene commentary at crucial moments. Tempos are in the main entirely apposite, allowing effects to register without being overdone, and avoiding the ponderousness that can creep in when things are taken too solemnly. Autumn's hunt goes with a high-spirited swing and the lusty ensuing drunken fugue creates maximum contrast with the fogbound opening of Winter.

It's not infallible: there are one or two fleeting moments of uncertainty but this is a human-scaled work on a very human subject, and passing ragged edges add to the authenticity of the project. Lovers of Haydn's choral music will not be in any way disappointed.

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