The very title of Thoresen’s Symphonic Concerto
for violin and orchestra makes it clear that this ambitious and substantial
work is much more than a mere virtuoso showpiece. The soloist does not
stand out on his own, but rather has a complex and varied relationship
with the large orchestral forces. The violin’s role varies considerably
throughout this long piece: once a leader, then a follower but always
a committed partner, a real primus inter pares. It nevertheless
has its moments of virtuosity and cadenza-like passages, but most of
the time it is deeply involved in musical discourse, often of real symphonic
proportions. The concerto is in three sizeable movements, of which the
first one acts as a long introduction stating some basic material, whereas
the other two develop most of the initial material. Thus, the second
movement, predominantly slow, presents lyrical variants while the third
is of a much more dramatic character. Another notable feature of Thoresen’s
Symphonic Concerto is the use of electronically generated
sounds at the start of each movement. In the second movement, though,
the electronic sounds have a more important role adding a new dimension
to the music’s often impassioned lyricism. As already noted, this is
a long and weighty piece, though it is – to me at least – a bit too
long for its material and a bit uncertain of its aims and means, which
results in some eclecticism. I for one regret that Thoresen did not
develop the electronic material, which would have considerably enlarged
the music’s emotional range. As a whole, however, and in spite of some
eclecticism, the Symphonic Concerto is a large-scale impressive
achievement in its own right.
In comparison, the beautiful Illuminations
for two cellos and orchestra is more compact, though with as much variety
as its companion. Again, this is a powerfully lyrical utterance often
exulting in mighty, almost ecstatic climaxes. From the stylistic point
of view, it is much more coherent, though it obviously is from the same
pen; and it never outstays its welcome. We are told that in 1971 Thoresen
converted to the Bahá’i Religion, which apparently exerted some
lasting influence on his musical thinking. Now, I must confess that
I do not know what this religion may be; but, even ignoring this, one
feels some overtly mystical intent in this beautifully gripping work
which moreover is a most welcome addition to the limited repertoire
of double cello concertos. (I can only think of the late Tristan Keuris’s
concerto for two cellos and orchestra, that – unfortunately enough –
I have never heard so far.)
In short, two substantial and ambitious works in a
clear 20th Century enlarged expressionistic, but very communicative
and eloquent idiom which vastly repay repeated hearings, especially
in such fine performances and recordings as these. A most welcome release,
well worth investigating.
Hubert Culot