Leonard Bernstein the man was as colourful and as full of opposites as Leonard Bernstein the composer; politically naïve yet philosophically sophisticated, introspective yet effervescent and ebullient, there are too many contrasting adjectives that can be used to describe this last master-showman of the twentieth century. Such extremes are reflected in his work as a performer and composer. His recordings of Mahler abound with energy whilst his empathy for the composer's physical and mental state results in startling yet personal interpretations that lead one to question if Bernstein captured the essence of Mahler or simply projected his own character onto an already brooding musical framework. The same extremes are captured in his whole output as a composer, where the introspection of, for example, the Kaddish Symphony coexists alongside the histrionic extremes of his theatre works. Whilst a sympathetic telling of Romeo and Juliet finds a voice in West Side Story, we see a grand scale socio-religious comment and celebration of youth in Mass; Bernstein was the ultimate dichotomy. But despite these extremes, his musical language remains quintessential. Whether it be the jazzy ebullience of On the Town or the quietly brooding symphony The Age of Anxiety, there is an aspect to his language that is so constant as to make his music accessible to most audiences; on a musical level he like the archetypal spoilt child - what he wants, he gets.

With the onslaught of American Presidential elections (at the time of writing, it seems to be a tie), Bernstein's adaptation of his musical 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue (subtitled 'a musical about the problems of housekeeping') couldn't come at a better time. As its title, A White House Cantata suggests, we are taken on a whirlwind tour of both the history and inhabitants of the seat of American power in this world-premiere recording. Thankfully, this particular history ends with Theodore Roosevelt (although one is intrigued to wonder what lyricist Lerner would have made of the Nixon days or Monica and Bill's saga); instead, Lerner and Bernstein dip into the lives of the more colourful American presidents in a satirically zany work. The dignity of the founding of the capital city doesn't last for long: it soon degrades into a catchy showpiece march that forms the basis for much of the ensuing music. The melodic style that made West Side Story a hit permeates just about every song in the cantata, but it is not for his skills as a melodist that Bernstein should be remembered: the opening number, delivered by the pensive representatives, includes complex counterpoint that demonstrates Bernstein's skills as a master craftsman. The siege of Washington in 1812, during which British troops set ablaze the White House only to see the flames extinguished in a torrential downpour, is a well-documented episode in American history. There can be few accounts of a historical event, however, that are handled with such humour: described by Bernstein as a Sonatina, its setting is a pastiche of 18th-century style. Following classical outlines, a Sonata-Allegro is followed by a Minuet (in which the trio is a drinking song) with a final Rondo con brio, the whole being episode is based on 'To Anacreon in Heaven' (which the Americans were to appropriate as 'The Star-Spangled Banner').

There are moments, however, when one baulks at some rather blatant, tasteless stereotypes. Whether intended as irony or not, the depiction of Afro-Americans in an Uncle Tom fashion would perhaps be seen as tasteless, even by the more liberal amongst us. 'Bright is Black', for example, is intended as a celebration of the roots of Afro-American culture though its humour is lost through such lines as 'Who'd a figger/A fine old nigger…They needed that man/Like garbage needs a can', and forcing an issue in this manner does little to raise the profile of the slavery issue. Composers and lyricists can, and do, get their messages across with more subtlety than this and, whatever the intention, today there is little room for this sort of portrayal.

There are more subtle aspects to A White House Cantata, however, and the use of the same singers for the same roles as a unifying feature is clever: only Washington, who begins the cantata, and Roosevelt (who ends it) are portrayed with any sort of dignity or presence. Most of the remnants (and their first ladies) come across as fools and snobs, each cast from the same ingratiating social-climbing moulds.

Despite a rather disastrous incumbency of the Hallé orchestra and a string of somewhat bland, over-efficient recordings, Kent Nagano finally makes his mark as a conductor of merit. The orchestra is handled assuredly and a tightness of control and colour adds to the excitement of this performance. However, balance is not always achieved fully and there are times when soloists are lost against the musical backdrop. Newcomer Victor Acquah as Little Lud, for example, has, in his lower range, a particularly quiet voice that is lost in some passages, which is a shame since there is much to commend his performance. Similarly, June Anderson's exceptional portrayal of various First Ladies, including the number 'Duet for One', in which she flits with ease between the roles of Mrs Grant and Mrs Hayes in a torrent of vindictive snobbery, is occasionally over-powered. Thomas Hampson portrays Lerner's interpretations of the presidents with character and clarity, especially in 'The Monroviad', where Munroe, in this instance ironically carrying the guilt of his presidential forebears is haunted by Article One of the Constitution, which proclaims that all men are equal 'except you know who…As Jefferson you knew it!/ As Madison you knew it!/And now that you're Munroe,/You surely ought to know!'. Fine performances from the rest of the cast and chorus of The London Voices do much to make this an exceptional and unforgettable performance of a relatively unknown work from the hand of Leonard Bernstein.

Ian le Prévost