Bernard Zweers may
be almost forgotten now, but in his
day was a major figure in Dutch musical
life. Indeed, for a time he was the
principal rival of Alphons Diepenbrock,
the famous critic, composer and friend
of Mahler whose reputation has perhaps
been better served by posterity of late.
Part of the cause of Zweers’ neglect
outside the Netherlands lies in the
very reason why he was as successful
as he was at home: his patriotic stance
and Dutch nationalism of his music,
placing him for his native country as
an equivalent figure to, say, Grieg
in Norway, Smetana in Bohemia or Borodin
in Russia. It would do Zweers no justice
to pursue those comparisons any further
since he was not as inspired a creator
or possessed of as personal a vision
as those. However there is no denying
that his music is well-crafted, ably
scored and more than a local curiosity.
It is worth recalling his value as a
teacher of some of his country’s most
eminent twentieth-century composers:
Hendrik Andriessen, Bernard van den
Sigtenhorst Meijer and Daniel Ruyneman
amongst them (all worthy of Sterling’s,
or any other label’s, attention).
The present disc provides
us with a good cross-section of his
orchestral output, in performances ranging
from 1973 to 2001. The earliest performance
ironically is of the most recent work,
the gentle overture Saskia, depicting
– or at least inspired by – the wife
of the great Dutch painter Rembrandt
van Rijn, for the 300th anniversary
of whose birth in 1906 it was composed
(along with a Rembrandt Symphony
by Cornelis Dopper and a considerable
body of other works – including a Hymn
by Diepenbrock – that might provide
a treasure trove for Sterling to explore
in the future). According to Leo Samama’s
notes, the use of a Marian hymn in the
work is suggestive of Saskia’s Catholic
faith; whether or not some of the more
animated sections depict the tribulations
visited upon her by her husband must
remain a matter of conjecture for the
listener. Jean Fournet turns in a nicely
paced account, well if not outstandingly
played, the sound still shaping up well.
The style of Saskia
is markedly subdued compared to the
rather blustery opening of the Second
Symphony (1882-3) which simultaneously
looks backwards to Schumann and early
Brahms and forward to Richard Strauss.
The four movements are played without
a break but are clearly delineated (as
in both Schumann’s and Nielsen’s Fourths,
without the structural felicities in
Franz Schmidt’s Fourth). The most successful
movements are the outer Allegros,
in which, by and large, Zweers matches
inspiration with perspiration in producing
convincing symphonic movements. However,
the inner Andante is something
of a disappointment, its Tchaikovskian
air at odds with the striving nature
of the preceding Allegro vivace
and suggesting that the music had strayed
in from some abandoned pastiche on Swan
Lake. The Allegretto con moto
scherzo perhaps fares a touch better,
especially if one regards it rather
as an intermezzo before the return to
form of the fugal Allegro finale.
There is perhaps a touch of Mendelssohn
in both the third and fourth movements,
but little that could be construed as
Dutch. It would not be until his epic
Third Symphony (1887-90, which shares
with Walton’s First the curious honour
of having had its premiere bereft of
an as yet unfinished finale) that Zweers
completely mastered the symphony as
a form. Antoni Wit directs a clear and
superbly articulated performance, splendidly
engineered (originally for radio) by
Tim Handley.
Curiously, Zweers was
much taken with Wagner’s music, particularly
Der Ring des Nibelungen, yet
it left barely a trace audible in the
compositions on offer here. He wrote
the music for a gala production of Joost
van den Vondel’s historical play Gijsbrecht
van Aemstel. Zweers was commissioned
to provide a set of five orchestral
preludes to open each act and an unaccompanied
chorus to conclude each – the choruses
are not included on this disc. The preludes
were published after his death as a
suite without their original titles,
but had originally been printed years
before in a sumptuous illustrated version
of the play with the choruses and additional
incidental music composed independently
by Diepenbrock at the same time. Indeed,
this arrangement appears to have been
Zweers’ own idea. Vondel’s play is set
on an epic scale, telling the struggle
for Amsterdam, its destruction and rebirth,
between the hero of the title, Gijsbrecht,
Lord of Aemstel and his nemesis Gerard
van Velzen. The preludes therefore do
not tell the story as in a symphonic
suite or poem, nor do they quite encapsulate
the drama in the way that Pfitzner’s
masterly trio of preludes do in his
opera Palestrina, but set the
scene (one imagines) most effectively
for the act to follow. As Samama rightly
suggests, this is akin to the incidental
music of Fauré and Sibelius,
and none the worse for that. Nonetheless,
the five pieces make an effective suite
as absolute music and are more consistent
in their balance of form and content
than the Symphony. Lucas Vis’s account
from 1980 brings out the strengths of
the score despite a few moments here
and there of doubtful intonation and
ensemble. As a whole, this impressed
me the most of the three works featured
here. Hopefully, Sterling will release
some more Zweers in due course.
Guy Rickards