MD+G's unhackneyed
Respighi program offers the recorded
premiere of the previously unpublished
Burlesca of 1906. The piece is
predictably brilliant and colorful,
but the annotations, which define the
burlesca as "a composition of scherzoso
character" and invoke models ranging
from Bach's E minor harpsichord partita
through to Richard Strauss, suggest
an extroverted, toccata-like fantasy
- something rather different from what
we actually get. Instead, the fluid
rhythmic motion, the quasi-Impressionist
harmonies sidling stepwise, and the
ominous climactic tuttis in minor (with
the triumphal perorations finally breaking
through to major) all combine to produce
something resembling the French post-Wagnerians.
If you like the symphonic works of Dukas,
Chausson, and Lalo, you'll feel right
at home here.
Metamorphoseon XII
Modi isn't identified as a premiere,
but it was new to me. The piece reflects
Respighi's attempts "to make [the] artistic
and human values [of modal harmony]
serviceable to the modern tonal idiom,"
as cited by his wife, Elsa. As a theme,
firm-boned legato strings are answered
by a questing, mildly dissonant clarinet;
there follow twelve variations, each
cast in another of the archaic church
modes. The well-crafted, dramatic, and
colorful score offers numerous brief
opportunities for virtuoso display.
Liturgical associations aren't altogether
banished - the parallel string triads
in Modus I inevitably suggest an organ
improvisation - and the disproportionately
long (7:12), meandering Modus VII ("Cadenze")
bogs down. Things pick up again as the
oboe introduces the bubbly good humor
of Modus VIII, in which Respighi's own
distinctive voice finally emerges. Earlier
on, we hear flashbacks of Elgar in the
bounding drive of Modus VI, of Wagner
in the Siegfriedisch horn calls
of Modus VII, and of Respighi himself
in a Pines of Rome-like quiet
clarinet solo. The buildup to the concluding
organ-and-orchestra tutti, its close,
rich brass chords pointing the way to
Ben-Hur, is effective, though
conductor Hansen oddly short-changes
the final cadential unison in both weight
and duration.
The remainder of the
program looks back to earlier masters.
In Rossiniana, Respighi repaints
Rossini's occasional pieces in broader
strokes, sometimes tapping into unsuspected
expressive depths. Thus, poignant harmonic
turns give the opening Capri e Taormina
movement an reflective cast. The
following Lamento begins with
tragic breadth, veers into an ill-matched
contest between a simple reed melody
and punctuating full brass chords, and
concludes with a long-limbed lyric theme
unfolding over gently pulsing winds.
In the other two movements - a graceful
waltz, and a rousing tarantella framing
a central chorale - Rossini's familiar
quirky lightness is more readily recognizable.
The orchestration of the Bach Passacaglia
and Fugue, commissioned by Toscanini,
includes some nice chamber-like passages
and boasts a smoother, more refined
orchestral sonority than the better-known
Stokowski arrangement, though it becomes
equally portentous when the heavy brass
get involved.
Save for that final
note of the Metamorphoseon, George
Hanson leads with stylish assurance,
and the Wuppertal Symphony, though perhaps
not well-known, sounds absolutely first-class
in all departments: I particularly like
the way the lean, focused string tone
opens out with an impressive amplitude
for the surging crescendos. MD+G's recording,
which I heard in "normal" rather than
SACD stereo, is clear, vivid, and wide-ranging.
Stephen Francis
Vasta