Orchestre symphonique de Montréal: Berlioz: Le carnaval romain & Symphonie fantastique
Pentatone

Having previously distinguished themselves with Pentatone recordings of Mahler's Symphony No. 5 and Rückert-Lieder, Strauss's Ein Heldenleben, and Schoenberg's Pelleas und Melisande and Verklärte Nacht, the Orchestre symphonique de Montréal (OSM) and its Music Director Rafael Payare turn their attention to another staple of the symphonic repertoire, Hector Berlioz's Symphonie fantastique. It's a bit of a risky move when so many recordings of the piece are available, but they pull it off with a rendering that's authentic and crafted in humble deference to the work's spirit. A couple of things recommend the hour-long release right away, its augmentation of the symphony with “Le carnaval romain,” for one, plus the striking sound the orchestra's recently acquired carillon bells add to the main work's closing movement.

As Symphonie fantastique has been part of the OSM's repertoire since 1937, the company has cultivated a long-standing relationship with the French masterpiece and its creator. That it's proven so enduring is easy to understand when its programmatic subject matter extends from a pastoral idyll to a diabolical witches' sabbath and its range of moods is panoramic. Even more, the dazzling orchestral palette Berlioz (1803-69) deployed for the score is a major reason for its appeal.

Liner notes by Ronald Vermeulen provide illuminating historical background. Smitten with the Irish actress Harriet Smithson and intent on winning her over, the young composer devised a dramatic five-movement symphony detailing “episodes in the life of an artist.” After the work's opening movement, “Rêveries – Passions,” recounts her all-consuming hold on the composer, “Un bal” details his experience of seeing her dance at a glamorous ball, “Scène aux champs” finds him possessed by her image as he strolls the countryside, “Marche au supplice” has him dreaming of his execution, and “Songe d'une nuit de sabbat” places him at a witches' gathering where his beloved participates in a devilish orgy and newly appears as a deformed and grotesque creature. In encompassing episodes that are on the one hand romantic and bucolic and on the other macabre and terrifying, Berlioz ensured that his piece would be never less than engrossing. Interestingly, working in tandem with those marked contrasts is a lyrical motive (identified as an “idée fixe”)symbolizing the artist's love interest that emerges in all of the movements, naturally in altered form.

Extracted from Berlioz's second opera Benvenuto Cellini and premiered in 1844, “Le carnaval romain” (A Carnival in Rome) underwent transformation from an overture into an independent (and more positively received) symphonic piece. Effectively executed by Payare and the OSM, the endearing work offers a robust appetizer for the main course. Lustrous orchestral colours bolster the music's appeal, and the pairing of oboe and strings at the outset makes for a lovely combination. Delivered at a measured pace and climaxing gloriously, the performance offers an appealing nine-minute sampling of Berlioz's gifts, even if a Beethoven influence is discernible in the writing.

While his influence is also detectable in different places within Symphonie fantastique (certainly one presumes his sixth symphony factored into the writing of “Scène aux champs”), it's most evident in the opening “Rêveries – Passions.” At fifteen minutes, it's a slower treatment compared to some and, in truth, the rendition is more reverie than passionate outpouring (though there are moments of intensity, and yearning is palpably conveyed), but Payare's at times languorous treatment suits the material, especially its gentler passages, and the silkiness of the strings argues strongly on the OSM's behalf. The spirited “Un bal” enlivens the presentation with graceful waltz rhythms and lyrical voicings of the motive by woodwinds and strings. Passion is present in the urgency of the performance (in the accelerando especially), without control ever being sacrificed.

A sixteen minutes, “Scène aux champs” exceeds the length of the opening movement, but, again, the pace is a good fit for the outdoorsy subject matter. The tone's set immediately by the to-and-fro of the English horn (the shepherd's call) and the (offstage) oboe, and the authority of the playing that follows allows the listener to ease into the nature realm vividly conjured by the composer—even if the threat of an oncoming storm is intimated by timpani rumblings. Any state of drowsiness induced by the country sojourn is resoundingly banished when the energy-charged closing movements arrive, the portentous “Marche au supplice” first. Repurposed from the composer's unfinished opera Les Francs-juges, the movement barrels forth with steely resolve and emphatic brass declamations, after which “Songe d'une nuit de sabbat” amplifies the work's macabre side. Listen for the foreboding tolling of the church bells, the goblin-esque woodwinds, and the menacing voicing of the “Dies irae" theme. The music throbs with conviction and intent as it advances towards its thrilling conclusion.

November 2025