Sir William Walton (1902-1983) began composing his Symphony No. 1 in 1932, but the first full performance was not
until 1935. It was a great success, and
has maintained a consistent presence in the repertoire ever since, something
which his second symphony from 1957 never quite achieved. The presence of Sibelius is clearly felt in
the first movement, but Walton’s individual voice shines through the racing,
‘malicious’ Scherzo and the mournful slow Andante which follows. The opening wind solos in this slow movement
are particularly sensitively played by the BBCSymphony Orchestra principals, and despite the long, drawn out nature of
this movement, conductor Edward Gardner
holds onto the momentum, and builds steadily to an insistent climax, although
the unease does not let up, with the mournful flute solo bringing the movement
to a sombre conclusion. The finale is
Walton in celebration mode, reminiscent of his film scores, and more than a
hint of the shiny brass writing in Belshazzar’s Feast from a few years
earlier. The fugal string second subject
is particularly tight in this recording, with the brass itching to get a look
in. They certainly get their moment, bringing the development section to an
emphatic conclusion, leading to the triumphant, glorious conclusion. Gardner manages to hold something back here,
keeping the surges in check, so that the sudden reflective solo trumpet before
the final section has all the more impact.
Then finally, he lets the whole orchestra shine in the unashamedly
bright and brash coda. Walton wrote his Violin Concerto for Jascha Heifitz, with
the first performance by Heifitz in 1939.
However, he revised the work following the first performances and
recording, and the version published in 1945 is the one usually performed
today. It is much more overtly romantic,
the sweetly lyrical opening presumably written to show off Heifitz’s legendary
playing. Yet once the central section of
this opening movement gets underway, there is a much jazzier and virtuosic
feel, although the solo violin puts a stop to this several times, bringing the
lyricism back and calming proceedings down. Tasmin Little is particularly
commanding here, drawing the listener into these closer, more lightly
orchestrated sections. The middle
movement, ‘alla Nepolitana’, shows Walton’s love of Italy, with its wild tarantella
interrupted by a slightly off-kilter waltz, and a central Canzonetta, with the
solo violin dancing around a slightly formal, song-like theme first heard on
the solo horn. The finale once again has highly lyrical writing for the
soloist, and the lengthy, elegiac cadenza before the final flourish is
performed with real commitment by Little in this recording. Two of Walton’s
finest works in benchmark recordings here – highly recommended.
Walton, Sir W. 2015. Symphony No. 1, Violin Concerto. Tasmin Little, BBC Symphony Orchestra, Edward Gardner. Hybrid Super Audio Compact Disc. Chandos CHSA 5136.
Walton, Sir W. 2015. Symphony No. 1, Violin Concerto. Tasmin Little, BBC Symphony Orchestra, Edward Gardner. Hybrid Super Audio Compact Disc. Chandos CHSA 5136.
Max Reger (1873-1916) was a prolific composer, yet little of his music is
known today. His music might be seen as
backward looking, in that he was particularly focussed on counterpoint and
fugal writing, with a strong interest in Bach, and he definitely saw himself
following the direct line from Beethoven and Brahms, rather than looking
forward and embracing the innovation and radical developments of other early 20th
century composers such as Schönberg. He
wrote two Piano Quartets, which
members of the Mannheimer Streichquartett, together with pianist ClaudiusTanski, have recorded, together with a Serenade
(originally for flute, violin & viola, but arranged by the composer for 2 violins
and viola) and Three Duos for 2 violins.
The first Piano Quartet, Op. 113 (1910) is much darker than the second, Piano Quartet, Op. 133, composed just
three years later, but by which time Reger had resolved his own struggles with
tonality and atonality, and settled into what he described as his ‘free, Jena
style’. He withdrew from the pressures
of concert performance and the Meiningen court to Jena, focussing almost
entirely on composition. He died just
two years after composing this second quartet, aged just 43. Yet perhaps because it caused him more
creative struggles, it is the first Quartet that has more interest and
individuality for me. The Scherzo is
particularly inventive, with a dramatically contrasting and dark central
adagio, and there is some beautifully lyrical playing from the performers here,
and in the warm Larghetto which follows.
The Serenade, whilst pleasant enough, doesn’t really do much to win me
over to Reger, being rather derivative in its conservative style. The Duos have more interest, despite having
been written primarily as instruction pieces on the use of canon and fugue. They
make clever use of unusual time signatures created by the fugal writing, and
the two violinists here enjoy their unexpected inventiveness. A mixed bag of repertoire, then, but
interesting nevertheless in terms of the changing musical landscape in the
early twentieth century, and strong performances throughout here.
Reger, M. 1998. Complete Piano Quartets. Claudius Tanski, Mannheimer Streichquartett. Compact Discs (2). MDG Gold. MDG 336 1869-2.
Reger, M. 1998. Complete Piano Quartets. Claudius Tanski, Mannheimer Streichquartett. Compact Discs (2). MDG Gold. MDG 336 1869-2.
Brothers Paul & Huw Watkins (cello & piano respectively) have recorded three
more Sonatas in their third volume
of British Works for Cello and Piano. Perhaps the only one performed with any
regularity is that of E J Moeran
(1894-1950), although it can hardly be described as well known. The other two Sonatas on this disc, from Edmund Rubbra (1901-1986) and Alan Rawsthorne (1905-1971) are also
seldom heard, and on the basis of this recording alone, that is a real
shame. Rubbra’s Sonata, Op. 60 opens the disc, and this is no lightweight
Sonata. The dense contrapuntal
structures of the opening movement and the driven, fast middle movement have a
no nonsense feel, with not much space for light relief. The theme and variations form of the final
movement, however, allows for a little more variety of tempo, although here
again there is an emphasis on contrapuntal writing, and the overall tempo
structure (slow, speeding to a faster middle variation, before slowing again)
mirrors that of the Sonata as a whole.
Rawsthorne’s Sonata is
another serious piece, with stormy, virtuosic writing for both instruments,
challenges which the Watkins brothers appear to relish. The central movement is dark and intense, and
the final movement presents as confident and assertive, although even here
there is an introspective, darker second section, and the music of the first
movement returns, with the piece ending in quietness. By comparison with both of these dark works,
Moeran’s Sonata is almost a relief,
with its more overtly expressive and lyrical style, but it is still a work of
intensity and even desolation in places.
There are tinges of Irish folk themes, particularly in the slow
movement, but overall, there is passion here, and the finale allows Paul on
cello especially to let go a little more than is allowed in the other two works. Great works, convincing performances, and
eminently sensible programming to finish with the Moeran.
Various. 2014. British Works for Cello and Piano. Paul Watkins, Huw Watkins. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10818.
Various. 2014. British Works for Cello and Piano. Paul Watkins, Huw Watkins. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10818.
Anton Bruckner’s (1824-1896) Symphony No. 3 was composed in 1973, but the combination of a
disastrous first performance, and Bruckner’s renowned self-criticism led him
to make many revisions, leaving us with at least six different versions, the
most of any of his symphonies. It was as late as 1977 that a critical
performing edition of the original 1873 version was published, and this is now the
most often performed. This is Yannick Nézet-Séguin’s sixth Bruckner
symphony recording with the OrchestraMétropolitain from Montreal, and he has definitely proved himself to be a
great Bruckner interpreter. Here, he
manages once again to steer a clear path through the mammoth writing, whilst
also achieving moments of great subtlety.
The opening crescendo in the first movement is perfectly managed, and
the brass playing that follows is dramatic and rich without being overblown. Wagner
is evident throughout – Bruckner showed his scores of the second and third
symphonies to his hero, asking him to choose which should carry a dedication to
him, and Wagner chose the third. But the influence is perhaps clearest in the
almost operatic melodies in the slow movement, played here with great
sensitivity, particularly from the woodwind.
The Ländler Trio section in the Scherzo is played with light humour, in great
contrast to the appropriately dogmatic and insistent main section. The artful combination of the strings polka
against the formal brass chorale in the Finale was perhaps evidence of
Bruckner’s real arrival as a mature symphonic composer. However, there are moments when this movement
loses its way slightly in the ebb and flow, but the final restatement of the
theme in D major wipes all this aside, and the Orchestra Métropolitain brass
players produce a suitably triumphant finish.
Another great Bruckner recording from Nézet-Séguin.