Recording the Tchaikovsky Symphonies|Part Two

In my last post, I wrote about how the Tchaikovsky recording project got started. It began with the desire on the part of both orchestra and conductor to record the standard repertoire, which lead to the orchestra waiving their fee and paving the way for our recording of Tchaikovsky’s 5th Symphony. After much to and fro between the major recording companies (none of whom were very much interested in our recording), it was an independent recording company, namely Chandos Records,Ltd., a small but prestigious recording company from Colchester, Essex in the United Kingdom that was interested enough to offer us a contract to record the cycle. This was quite a coup.
Up until this point, the Oslo Philharmonic had recorded mostly contemporary Norwegian music for the Norwegian Cultural Council (Norsk Kulturåd), and was regarded as a very good Scandinavian orchestra, with little or no visibility in the world music markets.
The fact that Chandos had liked the tape and was willing to offer us a contract to record the rest of the symphonies was, as I noted above, quite a coup for the orchestra, but it was also a big risk for both the recording company and the orhestra. The risk was that the recordings, although good, might not be a big enough draw financially, as we were, after all, not very well known.

Chandos Records

Chandos Records Ltd was a company that wasn’t afraid of risks. They started small, and while gradually growing to the status of a very well respected recording firm, remained independent minded enough to take on artists who were hitherto relatively unknown. Such was the case with the Oslo Philharmonic, and at the time they listened to and were bowled over by our tape of the Tchaikovsky 5th Symphony, had already been recording with quite a few prestigious artists, and had already racked up a series of excellent critical reviews. The founder and chief recording producer was a man named Brian Couzens. His son Ralph was recording engineer, and between the two of them, they had recorded the bulk of Chandos’work up until this point, and would be taking on our recording sessions, once the paperwork was dealt with.
Recording sessions for the cycle would be held, as usual, in the Oslo Konserthus, and the Chandos recording team (Brian and Ralph Couzens) would have the use of the NRK recording studio as did previous recording teams. NRK would loan us the use of a recording engineer who would function as assistant to Ralph Couzens. In the case of the Fourth Symphony, the NRK engineer was Charles Almaes.

Tchaikovsky 4th

With the 5th Symphony already “in the can”, it was decided that the next symphony to be recorded would be the Symphony No. 4 in F minor, op. 36. This is perhaps Tchaikovsky’s most dramatic symphony as well as his most rhythmically complex, particularly the first movement.

After some discussion, it was decided to record the symphony in early November of 1984, so plans were set to reserve the last few days in October and the first two days of November for rehearsals and recording, as the symphony was not scheduled for performance during that season. As a matter of fact, we would be recording the symphony just before leaving on a two-week tour to Great Britain and Wales, which would be my first international tour as well as the orchestra’s first to Great Britain. It would also coincide with the release of the 5th Symphony. This would be the first salvo in the orchestra’s campaign to raise its artistic profile.
Preparations for the recording sessions proceeded along much the same lines as for the 5th symphony. Mariss rehearsed the orchestra on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday in great detail, preparing the musicians as if it were a concert, and we recorded on Thursday and Friday of the week, leaving to the last hour on Friday a short session for “snippets” and other edits.
The Couzens, father and son, were extremely competent at their work and briskly efficient. They were affable enough, and knew what they wanted and how to get it. Like Jimmy Burnett (who they hired on and off as a backup producer when they were unable to make it for a series of recordings),
they got along well enough with Mariss Jansons and the three were able to develop a good working routine as well as relationship.
The orchestra also worked smoothly with the Chandos team, quickly acclimating themselves to the working tempo. The basic method of recording remained the same as with the fifth symphony: record each movement in its entirety at least twice, then do any editing at the end of the sessions, or on the Friday, part of which was reserved for edits or any “do-overs”.
Let me take a moment here to pay tribute to my colleagues who took part in these first two recordings, as the roster was to start undergoing subtle changes due to retirement and new additions to the orchestra. The string section remained largely the same, as did most of the wind and brass sections. Principal flute was Per Øien, who performed marvelously in this role on 5th, 4th and 1st symphonies, before retiring to take up full-time teaching at the Norwegian State Musical Academy; Andrew Cunningham was our world-class piccolo player throughout the cycle; Erik Niord Larsen was principal oboe; Erik Andreasen was principal clarinet; Per Hannisdal was principal bassoon for the 5th Symphony, but did not participate in the recording of the 4th due to military/civil serice – he returned afterwards to finish out the cycle– the orchestra’s newly appointed associate principal bassoon, Eirik Birkeland took over and did an excellent job; Odd Ulleberg was principal horn throughout the cycle and was marvelous; equally so were Jan Fredrik Christiansen, principal trumpet and Aline Nistad, principal trombone. Marcus Knight was principal tuba and was a good foundation for the brass section.
I was alone for the recording sessions of the fifth symphony; this was not to be the case for the fourth symphony. I was joined for the finale by our percussion section. Per Erik Thorsen, our principal percussionist played cymbals; Bjørn Løken, who was substituting for Per Melsæter, played bass drum, and if memory serves me correctly, Trgve Wefring, my assistant timpanist, played triangle.

Trials and Tribulations

Although on the whole the recording went very well, the experience was not without its trials and tribulations. First off, there was the notoriously tricky first movement with its rhythmic displacement. One must keep a clear mind and one’s wits about themselves in order to do the movement justice. In my mind it is one of Tchaikovsky’s finest movements, full of drama and passion. Which is why a good player keeps his cool among all the drama and emotion and lives by the adage count,count, count!
Second, there was a new recording crew that I had to get used to. Jimmy Burnett was very good (in our conversations) to explain that slightly harder sticks worked better in recording, particularly in venues that had quirky acoustics, and this enabled me to make my stick choices without too much trial and error. While Brian and Ralph Couzens were cordial enough, they were more reserved and kept to themselves, leaving it totally up to me to find my own path.
I was a young buck then, still full of my own notions, and in concert and as a general rule liked to use mallets that were a bit on the rounder, softer side of the sound spectrum. I was quite aware of articulation, but I was prone to experiment and I did on this occasion, adding a set of Andrew Feldman medium-generals with ball-type heads for much of the first movement. These worked fairly well in the event, but in thinking about the recording thirty-one years later, I probably would have gone one degree harder throughout the movement.
On top of that, the 28 inch Hinger drum was giving me problems with regard to pitch. The Remo heads of the era – which came equipped with ersatz backbone lines – were a hit and miss proposition. Out of a set of four, you might get two good heads, and one that was mediocre, and one bad. In this case, the 28 inch head wounded up being the joker, as I could never get it as clear as I’d like. I learned as I gained experience that the edge of the kettle on the Hinger drum was not as sharp as that of the Light timpani which made for a more difficult clearing experience. Add to this the variable quality of the Remo heads of the mid-eighties, and the results were not always happy.
However the medium generals did proffer a warmer tone, which compensated to some degree for the troubles I was having with that head. Another challenge was to cope with the changes to the part suggested by Mariss. There were two changes in the first movement: at bar 282, he crossed out the eight note, and substituted a dotted half note and dotted quarter tremolo in bars 283 and 284, with the first stroke of 283 being a forte piano, rolling over bars 283 and 284, with a subito crescendo right into the triple forte at bar 285. This was to starkly reinforce the drama at this point in the symphony, which is for me the climax of the movement emotionally. Having listened to many recordings of the symphony prior to this experience, I found it strange at first to insert this into what I felt was already a perfect part which needed no additions of any kind. However, I kept my mouth shut and played it as requested. It has since grown on me, and I add it to every performance that I participate in. he conductors love it! The other change was the addition of a high f sharp six bars before letter Q.

In the end…

In the end, everything worked out. Mariss was at his most intense, but at the same time his most practical. One of his strengths was (and remains one to this day) the ability to get an orchestra to play to the peak of its ability day in and day out. This is evident in the recording. The first movement was the hardest to record, and we had three takes and some edits to help put everything right. The other three movements were a little easier to get “in the can”, although Mariss paid as much attention to these as he did the first movement. There was no stinting here or anywhere.
I remember recording the finale as being one of the most exciting moment of my life. Mariss has a particular way with this symphony as a whole, much of it learned from his mentor, Yevgeny Mravinsky. Both conductors went for the drama in this symphony and both delivered high-voltage performances without sacrificing musicality.
There was a manic quality to the finale as done by Mavrinsky, and Mariss obviously agreed with his mentor and brought it out in our recording without letting the performance go out of control. The coda of the finale as we performed it still something remarkable! One feels like getting up and cheering at the end, and repeated hearings do not diminish that feeling! As the saying goes, it was a trip!