Graffin has already
given us a superb traversal of the Coleridge-Taylor
Violin Concerto (AVIE - see
review) and a mixed recital of French
works for violin and orchestra. He has
also recorded all three Saint-Saëns
concertos and the music for violin and
piano. The Chausson chamber music, the
sonatas by Goldmark and Walter, together
with the works for violin and piano
by Ysaÿe also appear in his section
of the Hyperion catalogue. Here continues
his exploration of the rarer French
repertoire with this pairing of rare
works by two French composers. Canteloube’s
name is familiar because of his delectably
lambent arrangements of the Songs
of the Auvergne; rites of passage
works for young sopranos although none
has eclipsed the young Netania Davrath
(Vanguard). As for de Bréville
I suspect that his music is completely
unknown except to very few. Some may
know of his name but that’s about it.
Martin Anderson provides
the notes and I hope that more use will
be made of him. He writes well and with
an uncommonly wide frame of reference.
From him we learn that de Bréville
was born in the Lorraine. Under parental
pressure he was groomed for the French
diplomatic service but eventually he
broke free and immersed himself in music.
He studied composition in Paris with
Franck. He travelled uncommonly widely
including to Norway and Turkey (there
is an orchestral suite: Stamboul).
In addition to his 105 songs there is
an opera Eros vainqueur (1900,
premiered in Brussels in 1910), a sonata
each for cello (1930) and viola (1944),
five violin sonatas (the last written
in 1947), a mass, an overture to La
Princesse Maleine and a piano sonata
(1922). He was also active as a music
critic.
De Bréville’s
sonata is a meaty work. Its epic Franckian
proportions and sweetly inclined capricious
style encourage and receive playing
of rhapsodic spontaneity. The writing
is sunnily Elysian - saturated in sunset
warmth yet not prone to Delian meandering.
The second movement glints in contented
warmth like a slow moving river its
surface broken by the fractured diamonds
of the sun; there is a hint of regret
there as well. In the finale the idiom
coasts closely to Herbert Howells’ pastoral-ecstatic
as in the early violin sonatas and the
piano quartet. Melody washes over the
listener in a generalised way. The sonata
was written in memory of Lieutenant
Gervais Cazes - presumably a victim
of the Great War.
Canteloube was a pupil
at the Schola Cantorum, at which de
Bréville taught. Of course there
are his many songs including the Triptych,
marvellously recorded by Frederica
von Stade with RCA - yet still unavailable
on CD. To be added to this heritage
are various piano pieces, a Marche
Funèbre, pieces for solo
piano, the Poème for violin
and orchestra already recorded by Graffin
for Hyperion (CDA67294) and the
unjustly neglected opera Le Mas -
said to be ‘very lively’ and ‘based
on the aesthetic charm of regional inspiration.’
In the Canteloube the
themes and treatment are more distinctive
and memorable. He is also very good
at intriguing ostinati and counter-melodies
setting up a tension released by the
violin’s singing line. Listen also to
the profoundly touching episode close
of Le Soir from 5.03 onwards
where Housman’s dream of the land of
lost content is translated to the Languedoc.
Jour de fête is game and
playful with much use of pizzicato and
the sort of harmonic paprika we hear
in Saint-Saëns wonderful Caprice
Andalou and in Sarasate’s Hispanic
solos. From 3.12 we hear a fragmented
suggestions of the Canteloube songs.
By contrast Dans le bois makes
glowing use of the song Baïlero
(from Songs of the Auvergne).
The singing violin line is floated over
an elusively impressionistic carpet
of rustling activity from the piano.
Finally elegy and sunset meet in a contented
farewell.
This is a completely
idiomatic recording of two fine and
rewarding works from the French musical
renaissance - far too long neglected.
At this rate, who knows, we may yet
have recordings of such Gallic rarities
as Lazzari’s operas and G.M. Witkowski’s
symphonies (1901, 1911), Poème
de la Maison (1920) and Mon Lac
(1921) for piano and orchestra;
not to mention the six symphonies of
Ropartz.
Here then are two substantial
and rare French works for violin and
piano. The style is intensely lyrical
and they are played with utter conviction,
typically presented in Hyperion’s honest,
well judged sound and superbly documented.
Rob Barnett
HYPERION CDA67427 [70:04] 