Recording the Tchaikovsky Symphonies | Part Five

Symphony No. 3 in D major, op. 29

At this point in time, the Oslo Philharmonic and Mariss Jansons were on a roll (figuratively) when it came to recording the Tchaikovsky symphonies for Chandos. It was the early winter of 1986. Symphonies No. 5 and 4 were recorded and released to critical acclaim. Symphonies 1 and 2 were recorded, with No. 1 scheduled for release, and No. 2 “in the can” and awaiting a “filler” before it could be released. The question for the powers that be was the usual “What next?’” They had several choices: Number 3, Number 6, or the Symphony in B minor, op. 58 – otherwise known as “Manfred”.
I was hoping that it would be either the Sixth or Manfred, but I was only thinking from the standpoint of a timpanist and not a music director or A and R man.
After some discussion, it was decided that since the third symphony was scheduled to be performed during the winter of 1986, this would be the work to be recorded.
The third symphony is not performed that frequently, and to be quite honest is the my least favorite of the six. From where I sat in the orchestra, any substantial timpani work happens in the first and fifth movements, with some delicate entrances in the third movement. There are no other percussion instruments scored for, and the orchestra that Tchaikovsky uses is perhaps the smallest of all of the orchestral works.

Tchaikovsky Symphony No. 3

The symphony is a bit of an anomaly in that it is the only one of Tchaikovsky’s symphonies that is made up of five movements. This is due to the addition of the second movement, which is a waltz in all but name, and inserted before the normal andante movement. The symphony is also incorrectly called the “Polish”; this was not because there was anything “Polish” about the symphony – there certainly is not – but was due to the conductor of its British premiere, Sir August Manns in 1899. He called it the “Polish” due to the “tempo di polacca” tempo marking for the finale. According to Noel Goodwin in his liner notes for the release, Manns might just as well have called it the “Tedesca” (German) after the Alla Tedesca marking for the second movement.The symphony was composed just before the ballet Swan Lake, and was composed relatively quickly. In essence it was a way of getting Tchaikovsky primed for the composition of the ballet.The final movement, the aforementioned “Tempo di Polacca”, is very much like those written for his opera “Eugene Onegin” as well as those in the ballets Swan Lake and Sleeping Beauty”.

Preparation

As I mentioned earlier, the symphony had been scheduled to be performed in concert at the end of January 1986 , so it was logical that it be recorded at that time. By this time the orchestra was quite used to recording at the end of a concert cycle, as the symphony would have been well played in and “in the heads and hands” so to speak. Rehearsals and the initial concert went well, and so did the second and final concert. Recording sessions were held on the Friday morning, with the second and final session held on the Saturday morning.
Apart from the normal concert preparations and keeping myself up to speed on the music, there were no other special preparations. I used the Hinger drums with Remo heads- I believe that I was trying them with hazy on the two lower drums and clear on the upper two drums at the suggestion of
Dan Hinger, my teacher and mentor. I was not happy with the hazy on the 25 and 22.5 inch drums, and he had suggested this arrangement, as he personally felt that the clear Remos worked better on the upper drums, whereas the hazy were much rounder and warmer on the two larger drums.
He was correct – that arrangement served ne well for quite some time.
Stick choice was, like the other recordings, dictated by the microphones. Mostly, it was a pair of Feldman blue -medium hard mallets and green generals.

The sessions….

The sessions were held on January 31 and February 1, 1986 at the Oslo Konserthus, with the usual Chandos team of Brian and Ralph Couzens, ably assisted by NRK’s resident engineer Dag Kristofferson.
Most of my work was in the first and last movements, with a tiny bit of staccato-like work in the scherzo movement. Those entries – all four of them – two on low F sharp, and two on B at the very end – had to be clean, and precise, with not too much over-ring. It was not difficult, but one had to be alert and place them carefully.
The first movement required great care, especially in the slow introduction to make the low As sound like a bass pizzicato – and place them correctly. The rest of the movement was straight forward – it is the only movement to require three drums – A, D and e. I played the concerts and recording using the three larger drums – keeping the smallest drum for insurance purposes. This arrangement gave me a fuller, rounder sound. The finale only used two drums – A and D, and these I also played on the 31 inch and 28 inch. The mallet choice for this movement was Hinger wood-shafted medium generals that I had used fairly frequently. There was plenty of felt on the mallet, and  there was enough “point” or “edge” to the sound to make them ideal for recording this movement.It gave me a  full, round sound, yet enough articulation to make the movement (and recording) work well. The movement is fun to play – like I mentioned earlier, it is very much in the mood of the polonaise from “Eugene Onegin”. Tchaikovsky throws a curve near the end of the movement when, at Letter R, he goes to a sudden Presto, and one must keep one’s wits about one in order to make the coda work. I am glad to say that I did, and the result satisfied me and Mariss and the rest of the gang. (Eventually it satisfied the critics, too!)  It is hard to believe that next month will mark the thirtieth anniversary of those sessions!