Tchaikovsky The Nutcracker. Kirov Opera Chorus and Orchestra / Valery Gergiev.

Philips (Full price) (CD) 462 114-2PH (81 minutes: DDD).

The Nutcracker as a short ride in a fast machine. Every now and then in Gramophone, you will read a recommendation from a reviewer that a particular recording needs a higher replay level than usual (emphatically not the case here), but, for what it’s worth, I found my most positive responses to this Nutcracker came after a higher than usual intake of caffeine. Obviously, a fair measure of Tchaikovsky’s score is meant to be continuous, but the Kirov’s animated action never lets up for a moment. It may have something to do with squeezing it on to a single disc (no pauses for breath, even between the First and Second Acts); and under the circumstances, it is not surprising that Gergiev doesn’t want to relax the momentum with the usual repeat of the leisurely ‘Grandfather Dance’. But this is probably how he conducts The Nutcracker at the Kirov (the recording was, in fact, made in Baden-Baden), and the elegance with which he moves from loud or fast sections of the score to quieter or slower ones – for example, the Arabian dance starting with a diminuendo – speak of ease gained from experience.

What we don’t have here is a Nutcracker to enhance the ambience of a room lit by Christmas tree lights and a log fire. My listening comparisons have included Svetlanov and Dutoit, both of whom have more time for old-world affection, warmth and evocation of atmosphere (and, like all other recordings, spread on to two discs). What we do have, however, is a realization that makes it clear why Stravinsky so loved the Tchaikovsky ballets. If there is an ostinato working away in the accompaniment, Gergiev gives it prominence and energy (the swift tempos help, of course). And credit for the very high yield of unusual features of this most inventively scored of all Tchaikovsky’s ballets should probably be evenly divided between Gergiev, the specific timbres of the orchestra and the very immediate sound.

When not caught up in the colourful exuberance of it all, one may stop to notice that the image lacks depth, the violins are a little thin in upper regions, and the brass occasionally play-out with the familiar Russian welly, wobble and weather (moderate amounts, heard after Svetlanov). Equally, the ear may be briefly diverted by minor imprecisions and the odd extraneous noise. But I wonder if there has ever been a Nutcracker so captured apparently ‘on the wing’, or, for that matter, so exciting.

JS