Martinů enthusiasts
are there well ahead of me and have
already had the benefit of Colin Clarke’s
perceptive and welcoming review.
This CD contains a
significant number of recording premieres
and according to Mr Entwistle there
is yet more to come.
Vánoce
from Paris in 1926 is in three little
movements designed to capture the wonder
of a child’s Christmas. The final Christmas
carol sounds very much like a troika
or sleighride. The Three Sketches
each portray a dance or popular
genre. The first is a Blues but
sounds more like a Rag for most of the
time. The Tango is Ravel-like
in the pattern of La Valse complete
with the decay of bells. The Tango
rises to a rocking climax predictive
of Barber’s own magnificent Tango
in the suite Souvenirs. The
Charleston seems to be a hairy
encounter with Mussorgsky’s unhatched
chicks. The Four Movements are,
by turns, Debussian, wrong-note gangly,
a free fantasy on the St Wenceslas
Chorale (the same one used by Josef
Suk) and a synthesis of polka and waltz.
Avec un doigt again returns to
Joplin ragtime territory rather like
the first of the three Sketches.
The four movement suite To Bozanek
and Sonicka is, like Fenêtre
sur le jardin, strongly nostalgic
this time of a holiday spent in Potstejn
in 1932. The first movement is determinedly
Czech nationalist while the other movements
sing in Delian abandon. The little Listek
do Pamatniku surprisingly reaches
toward Macdowell territory.
The Dumkas 1 and
2 are
mature Martinů with a pastoral
directness and rejection of complexity.
There is some Bachian figuration but
more mature emotions are also evident.
There are echoes and pre-echoes of the
Toccata e Due Canzoni
and of the Fourth Symphony here. This
is music that avoids being merely pretty
or emotionally small-scale. Julietta
Act 2 Scene 2 was adapted by the
composer direct from the opera score
after Rudolf Firkusný had requested
the piece. It is very touching and emotional.
The suite Fenêtre sur le jardin
is in four movements and is an intense
example of music capturing and reviving
a sense of place and time. The work
pictures the garden of the composer’s
mother-in-law just outside Paris in
1938. It has a distinct and flowering
charm that is both Gallic and impressionistic.
The 1941 Mazurka
was
written in memory of Paderewski who
had just died. Martinů cannot help
being poignantly entrapped by nostalgia
for homeland recollected from the safety
of the USA. From the same year comes
the Third Dumka and this
once again is suffused with the manner
of the Fourth Symphony. Merry Christmas
1941 is sanguine and rhythmically
alive. The Fifth Day of the Fifth
Moon is another touching and emotionally
open piece - fascinating to hear such
a sentiment-drenched work. This breathtakingly
beautiful piece has real fragility requiring
the caressingly imaginative insight
which Eric Entwistle brings to it.
Les bouquinistes
du quai Malaquais and the Improvisation
are busy and Poulenc-like in their
pecking sewing machine activity. Again
these pick up on the thematic shapes
of the Fourth Symphony and weaving them
with Bachian filigree. The Barcarolle
is a late work returning to impressionistic
dreamy territory much the same as the
surreal Julietta and the Fenêtres.
The Sonata No. 1 has
been recorded before several times.
It is Martinů’s
largest work for solo piano. It was
written just after the Symphony No.
6 for Rudolf Serkin. In the first movement
one can discern both Brahms Piano Concerto
2 at 1.31 and Rachmaninov’s Second Concerto
buried in the second movement. There
is much
here that is grave and a serious mood
carries the day. There is also more
dissonance in the Sonata than we are
accustomed to from Martinů. The
insect buzz of the opening of the Sixth
Symphony can be heard in the finale
as well as a return of the wraith of
Brahms Second Piano Concerto. After
playing the work to the composer at
his home in Switzerland and with the
benefit of the composer’s advice Serkin
gave the premiere in Dusseldorf. Eric
Entwistle used Serkin’s copy of the
score and honoured the annotations in
Martinů’s handwriting.
The Adagio is
Martinů’s last work. It is dedicated
to the memories of the composer Kapralova
and her father. There is a halting sublime
and dignified quality here. Amid the
shards of mosaic and cut-glass we hear
the Julietta theme resound
one last time.
This
is a lovely disc which would pair delightfully
with Naxos’s recent CD of the Martinů
songs review.
Rob Barnett