A Shared Anniversary Links Disparate Composers
Composer anniversaries celebrated on CD, whether abundantly, like Mozart's
in 1991, or in relatively paltry fashion, like Rossini's the same year,
can seem more redolent of marketing than musical understanding. Yet
the commemorative approach can be fun if one uses it to juxtapose composers
one might never otherwise mention in the same sentence. To many, 2001
is Verdi Year. But string lovers might also point to the 150th birthday
of Vincent d'Indy (1851–1931), as well as the 50th anniversary
of the deaths of Arnold Schoenberg (1874–1951) and Serge
Koussevitzsky (1874–1951). Some recent CDs of particular interest
allow us to approach this varied trio afresh.
In recent years Schoenberg has been in the headlines because of the
relocation of his archives from California to Vienna, a move made not
without ill-feeling in some quarters. It is a relief to clear the air
with music, especially a recording as exceptional as Takuo Yuasa
leading the Ulster Orchestra in Schoenberg's Chamber
Symphony No. 2 and Verklarte Nacht (Naxos 8.554371). Yuasa has
something of the balletic elegance and verve of a maestro with whom
he studied, Igor Markevitch. More starkly emotive is a new version of
Schoenberg's Five Pieces for Orchestra by the Houston Symphony
Chamber Players led by Christoph Eschenbach (Koch
7496), where the conductor's emotional involvement is particularly compelling.
By contrast, Brit cool and virtuosity are hallmarks of the newly reissued
Nash Ensemble performances of the Chamber Symphony No.
2 and Verklarte Nacht (Virgin 61760). In marginally clearer sound
than the Yuasa version, this pairing gives us a more debonair Schoenberg
than the scowling master of modernism depicted in many histories of
modern music.
Indeed, Schoenberg himself, who was an avid painter and tennis player
when not composing and teaching, could be a hearty life enhancer, distinctly
more appealing than some of his self-appointed latter-day apostles.
This quality of enjoyment is communicated in a performance of Schoenberg's
Phantasy Op. 47 for violin with piano accompaniment, as performed with
panache by Jacques Israelievitch and pianist Stephane
Lemelin (Fleur de Son FDS 57941, available from PO Box 132,
Buffalo, NY 14255; [716] 681-8106). The French-born Israelievitch, a
student of Josef Gingold at Indiana University (where he also served
as Gingold's teaching assistant) has been concertmaster of the Toronto
Symphony since 1988. His performance brims over with vivacity.
This type of vivacity is also very much present in the ostensibly ascetic
works of Schoenberg's son-in-law, the still-undervalued Luigi
Nono. If composer anniversaries are seen as large-scale family
parties, it would be only just to see Nono, whose splendid string works
have been brilliantly recorded by the Arditti Quartet on
Auvidis-Montaigne (a good starting point is Auvidis Montaigne MON 789005,
distributed by Harmonia Mundi), receive a fair amount of attention by
association.
A Schoenberg-anniversary disappointment, by contrast, is the fifth
volume of a series of the composer's music led by Robert Craft,
including Pierrot Lunaire and Pelleas und Melisande (Koch
KIC-7471). Neither the London Philharmonia nor the Twentieth
Century Classics Ensemble sounds at its best here, despite the
expectedly fine playing of cellist Fred Sherry and violinist
Rolf Schulte in Pierrot. Part of the reason may
be that the sprechstimme is done by Anja Silja,
who unwisely chose to sing enough to give an idea of the parlous state
of her voice these days. Nevetheless, Craft's solid role in modern music
through his association with Stravinsky has never been dependent on
his conducting smarts.
For a good antidote to this out-of-sorts rendition, it is healthful
to go back to the set of New York Philharmonic Historic
Broadcasts, which contains a thrilling, never-before-available performance
of Schoenberg's Ode to Napoleon for recitation, piano, and string
orchestra. Recorded in 1944, this performance by the Philharmonic strings
is led by Artur Rodzinski with narrator Mack Harrell
and longtime Schoenberg friend Edward Steuermann at
the piano. Since Rodzinski persuaded the composer to enlarge the work,
originally written for string quartet, piano, and narrator, to make
a Philharmonic performance possible, this historic occasion gains extra
importance.
Unlike Schoenberg, whose works gain study when given this sort of historical
appreciation, Vincent d'Indy is a case where the more we know about
the man who wrote the music—anti-semitic, nationalistic, close-mindedly
narrow in taste—the less inclined are we to lend a sympathetic ear.
D'Indy's apologists and his own vociferous writings may be his own worst
enemies. In his anniversary year, perhaps the best service that can
be done is simply listening to his music, especially his chamber works
for strings, where surprises of quality are plentiful. His String Quartet
No. 1 in D is available in competing performances, by the British Chilingirian
Quartet (Hyperion CDA67097) and the Kodaly Quartet (Naxos
8.223140). Both are performances of real interest and value. The Chilingirian
have a sense for the Gallic musical qualities of lightness and mellifluousness,
bringing these out even in a composer like d'Indy, an unrepentant follower
of Beethoven who usually produced what Cocteau liked to call "music
you listen to with your head held in your hands." The Kodaly Quartet
strives for more emotional oomph, and creates a persuasively moody reading
of this work, as well as of the String Quartet No. 2 in E.
More unfamiliar and welcome d'Indy may be heard (on Marco Polo 8.223691)
from the New Budapest Quartet and pianist Ilona
Prunyi, performing d'Indy's String Quartet No. 3 and Piano Quintet
in G Minor, Op. 81. As an added bonus, there is also a snazzy Piano
Trio in G by the composer's near-totally forgotten uncle Wilfrid
d'Indy, so full of good spirits that one can see why the brooding
and easily depressed younger musician reacted against them. We may still
find d'Indy's role in history repugnant (a tireless anti-Dreyfusard,
he was on the wrong side of almost every question of major historical
importance). Still, this collection of new and recent releases reminds
us that like many another offensive but gifted creator, posterity may
judge him on the quality of what he left behind, not by how many people
he was nasty to.
It's hard to imagine Schoenberg and d'Indy sharing a café table
in Vienna. Indeed, perhaps the only person who might put them in an
affable mood at that table would be the ebullient Serge Koussevitzsky,
a renowned bon vivant, dandy, and double-bass virtuoso in his native
Russia. Koussevitzsky, whose noteworthy recordings as bass soloist were
reprinted a few years ago by Biddulph, was a live wire who married a
rich woman who bought him an orchestra. Lest any snooty observer think
that it lessens a musician's credentials to be a kept conductor, please
recall that Charles Munch was a fiddler who got started as a conductor
by marrying a wealthy lady in middle age and receiving an orchestra
as wedding gift. There are other examples, and who cares? Once again,
it is the music that results that matters. In Koussevitzsky's case,
he had definite limits, acknowledging, for example, that Stravinsky's
Rite of Spring was beyond him technically. However, with much
of the standard repertoire or less-demanding new music, he managed to
infuse his Boston Symphony Orchestra with an enthused
glow. A new reissue (Naxos 8.110936) has Koussevitzsky and the BSO accompanying
Jascha Heifetz in the Brahms Violin Concerto. In this
1939 performance, as the reliable Tully Potter states in the CD booklet,
the conductor is in "patrician" form. Never mind that he was also capable
of petty jealousy, such as his refusal to invite Pierre Monteux, ex-leader
of the BSO, to conduct the orchestra during his quarter-century reign
as music director. More often recalled are his Tanglewood antics, such
as shrieking in a heavily accented voice, "I've been bit by a waps!"
This sort of tale never tires in the telling, even though it was probably
always funnier to the musicians than to the generally terrified conductor.
Rather than leaving these three anniversary revelers alone with their
celebrations, why not try to be a bit more inclusive and learn about
names that are barely even known to most concertgoers? For example,
try Dutch composer Johannes Bernardus van Bree (1801–57),
whose 200th birthday is feted this year with a new release (NM Classics
92090, distributed by Qualiton), with some spiffy overtures performed
by the Netherlands Radio Symphony Orchestra led by Jae
van Steen. The overture to Le Bandit in particular is
delightful, a kind of mix of Weber and Suppe, with merry writing for
strings.
An even more significant occasion is the 50th anniversary of the demise
of Josef Bohuslav Foerster (1859–1951), an important Czech
musician in the post-Dvorák generation and friend of Gustav
Mahler and Richard Strauss. A writer, painter, and critic, Foerster
wrote some valuable works for violin and piano, which are interpreted
persuasively by the distinguished violinist Josef Suk and
pianist Josef Hala (Supraphon SU 3401-2 132, distributed
by Qualiton). Foerster may not have been a great melodist, but his works
contain real emotional depth, and yet can also have a veneer of lightness
and sheen, as in his suite for violin and piano Prinzessin Ganseblumchen,
played with great delicacy by the Suk-Hala duo. The Elegy for violin
solo, written at age 86, is also a yearning, soberly dignified work.
If some of his works from the 1930s seem less felicitous, there is enough
on this two-CD set to reflect on a creator heretofore mostly ignored
outside of the Czech Republic. And if an anniversary year turns out
to be a learning experience for listeners, what better result could
one want?
