GRAMOPHONE Review: Prokofiev Romeo and Juliet – Los Angeles Philharmonic/Dudamel
This wonderful score is such a good fit for Dudamel’s sleek Los Angeleans. There is what I would call a tinge of Americana about Prokofiev’s big lyric melodies in this of all his pieces and within a few bars of the ballet’s intriguingly understated opening pages the Los Angeles Philharmonic violins are overheating in ways immediately suggestive of the close proximity of Hollywood. Add to that a flamboyance and piquancy with playing that is always ‘on pointe’, so to speak, and the result (beautifully engineered) is irresistible.
Andre Previn and the LSO have been the benchmark for a recording of the complete work since the 1970s and nothing comes close to the opulence and emotional heft (and decibels) they deliver in the ballet’s big set-pieces. Dudamel is more ‘balletic’ and yes elegant in the wide range of character dances and his panache, and that of his orchestra, perhaps belongs more in the theatre and less in the concert hall than Previn’s account. Both deliver in spades.
I was especially struck by the quality and personality of the LAPO woodwinds where the E-flat clarinet (super-jazzy) and bassoon (the dying Mercutio) become unlikely stars and like all their colleagues are so often centre-stage. Plaudits, too, to the first trumpet whose presence throughout is so eloquent and evocative. Just listen to the first trio of the ubiquitous ‘Dance of the Knights’ – Prokofiev at his most swaggering. Then there are the aforementioned LAPO strings and that signature way the composer has of taking the violins way above the stave every octave adding to the swoon factor. The ‘Balcony Scene’ is glorious, of course, not least in the way it opens out with Romeo’s variation freeing the lovers from the confines of their furtive first encounter. And again the way it is mirrored in the final scene – which in Kenneth MacMillan’s famous Royal Ballet version gives us essentially the same choreography but with Juliet’s body now lifeless. The emotional memory conveyed through Prokofiev’s recurring leitmotifs is part and parcel of moments like that.
Dudamel also reminds me that rapture and anguish are almost inseparable in this score – just as strife and wishful thinking – as depicted in ‘The Duke’s Command’ – pins us with two mighty discords only to have them evaporate into hushed reassuring strings. Dudamel is terrific is the fight sequences – all flashing rapiers and keen rhythm – and though he cannot quite match Previn in the mighty processional following Tybalt’s death those wailing horns still grab you by the throat – one of the most electrifying sequences in all ballet.
