As Richard Taruskin's admirable essay accompanying this set declares, ''the works of Rimsky-Korsakov may be conveniently divided into two groups: the over-played and the unknown''. From the former group, Scheherazade is missing from this record, leaving splendid performances of the Capriccio espagnol and the work we generally know as the Russian Easter Festival Overture. But what of the three symphonies? Not even Antar, a work that could well rival Scheherazade in popular appeal, has really made a significant mark on Western repertories.
It can certainly stand beside Tchaikovsky's Manfred and is a worthy child of the work that
fathered them both, Berlioz's Harold in Italy. From Harold, which so much excited the young Russians who heard it when Berlioz brought it to them in 1867, comes the notion of an idee fixe representing Antar at the centre of the events narrated, and also the interest in local colour—here Oriental. But Rimsky needed little encouragement to indulge his delight in the music of the Near East, and none at all to explore the orchestral sonorities of which he was making himself a master. He also, as Taruskin points out, derived much from the example of Liszt. Who did not, among progressive musicians of the latter part of the nineteenth century? But Rimsky-Korsakov made use of very specific Lisztian techniques, and allowed these to lead him away from what he saw as the more conventional, traditional kind of symphony towards a form that was sui generis, in good romantic fashion. It works very well, as does Scheherazade, a more tuneful but considerably less striking work. Jarvi gives an extremely sensitive performance: that is to say, he and the excellent Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra respond vividly to all the orchestral colour, but it is not a self-indulgent performance in which colour is allowed to do duty for appreciation of the music's narrative formal strength.
The other two symphonies are, it must be said, more problematic, though they should surely interest anyone who takes pleasure in Russian music of these extraordinary decades. No one was more critical of his First Symphony than Rimsky-Korsakov himself; but, at any rate in its revision, it has real charm in much of its invention. There is a ravishing theme in the first movement, some delightful (and wholly characteristic, despite the Glinka inspiration) ideas in the Scherzo, and a slow movement that comes near to the vein of elegant languor which is one of Korsakov's mature characteristics. How 'symphonic' we can call it begs all manner of questions: it is a much more enjoyable symphony than likely.
The Third Symphony also underwent extensive revisions; and here, too, it is possible to feel a sense of dislocation between what RimskyKorsakov was attempting and what he achieved. It is not that he failed in what he set out to do, but his aims seem to have been somewhat uncertain, and to have been confused by his regard for history, for the demands of Russian nationalism, and for what he considered a 'correct' technique. The listener who is in sympathy with him and his music can readily extend indulgence for the sake of much in the work, not least for the attractive Scherzo. Here, as throughout the set, the sense of style, the clarity and the unassuming virtuosity of the orchestra under Jarvi are exemplary; and the engineers have captured everything admirably. An orchestrator of Rimsky-Korsakov's nature does not set the hardest of demands to recording technicians, but his sense of lucidity and colour is fully honoured here.
A word, too, in times when the material accompanying CDs is often so poor, for what DG here provide. Richard Taruskin's essay rises far above the usual standard, and consists of a brilliant, well-documented account of Rimsky-Korsakov coming to grips with the Russian symphonic tradition and his own allegiances. This is a distinguished piece of work that really aids appreciation. Guido Salvetti's essay for Italians deals with the various versions, and touches interestingly upon the sources of inspiration. Michael Stegemann's German article concentrates more on a work-by-work account, as does Andre Lischke's somewhat lighter French version.'