The
Prague-born composer Johann Kalliwoda
was completely unknown to me until recently,
when his existence was revealed in a
review of another recording by my colleague
Jonathan Woolf (see review
). I dare say many of you reading this
will have been in the same situation.
Jonathan’s review was quite favourable,
and as someone interested in the byways
and side-roads of classical music, I
was tempted, but the works didn’t sufficiently
appeal to make me order the disc. That
decision, as this review will make clear,
will change.
A few
weeks later I read a review of this
recording on another classical CD review
website. This time, the review was overflowing
with superlatives and I thought "I
have a friend who is interested in this
era of music – I’ll buy it for him for
his birthday and borrow it from him
later". Well, the disc arrived,
and his birthday was still a few weeks
away – I yielded to temptation and listened.
Big mistake! Now I have to buy another
copy of it because the first one won’t
be leaving my collection.
The
cpo label is rapidly becoming my label
of discovery – in the last couple of
years, it has introduced me to the symphonies
of Villa-Lobos, Atterburg, Peterson-Berger
and Wirén and now Johann Kalliwoda.
Who have they waiting in the wings for
me next, I wonder?
Born
in Prague just four years after Schubert,
Kalliwoda spent much of his working
life as court musical director for Prince
Carl Egon II in Donaueschingen, a city
in southwest Baden-Württemberg
surrounded by the Black Forest. Along
with his composing and teaching duties,
he was conductor of the court orchestra,
and in that role, led many performances
of the works of Beethoven. They clearly
left an indelible impression. He was
a friend of Liszt and the Schumanns,
Robert championing his cause in his
musical journal.
The
shadow of Beethoven loomed large in
the mind of any composer wanting to
write symphonies in the middle of the
19th century. These two symphonies
of Kalliwoda unquestionably have Beethoven’s
influence writ large throughout, especially
No. 5, which is actually the later of
the two on this disc, despite the numbering.
At times, Kalliwoda’s melodic invention
approach that of Schubert – I have no
evidence to indicate whether he would
have known the music of his near-contemporary.
The scurrying lightness of the scherzos
bring Mendelssohn to mind, and there
are definite folk elements which make
you think of his countryman Dvorak.
Symphony
No. 5 begins with a defiant, but
uneasy brass and timpani fanfare which
is reminiscent of the opening of Tchaikovsky’s
Fourth symphony, and returns to punctuate
the whole first movement. This quickly
fades into a slow introduction begun
by the strings and carried forward by
the woodwinds; and extraordinarily,
the connection to Tchaikovsky 4 is heard
again, this time a clarinet melody which
is so similar to the theme that begins
the slow movement of the Tchaikovsky;
remember that Tchaikovsky 4 was written
more than 35 years later. Please don’t
misunderstand me: I am not for a moment
proposing that Tchaikovsky borrowed
from or even knew of the existence of
Kalliwoda. However, I am suggesting
that Kalliwoda is much more than a second-grade
Beethoven clone: his music shows he
absorbed the lessons of the past into
his own voice and found new ways of
expressing his musical ideas.
The
second movement Scherzo has a absolutely
beautiful cantabile melody throughout,
interspersed with outbursts of the opening
fanfare, while the Trio is appropriately
peasant-like with a droning horn call.
As the tempo indication implies, the
third movement Allegretto grazioso
is not really a slow movement; rather
it is an extension of the lyrical elements
of the Scherzo.
The
rondo finale starts in rousing
fashion, reminiscent in its driving
nature of the finale of Beethoven 7,
with a statement of the rondo theme
in the brass. It is then taken up by
the strings, quietly at first and then
bursting forth with the whole orchestra,
before it is the turn of the woodwinds
to sing it out. What a memorable theme
it is: I’m sure you will find yourself
humming it, as I have been doing. The
pace slows for a few minutes as the
theme is played with, before the strings
start an insistent beat, pushing the
movement towards its thrilling and triumphant
conclusion.
Symphony
No. 7 is dominated across its four
movements by a "struggle"
between heroic and playful moods - if
you wanted a simplistic view of this,
you might see it as Beethoven vs Mendelssohn.
In each movement, the two moods alternate
in quite rapidly succession, so the
overall effect is that of a giant four-section
rondo. Formally, this probably makes
the symphony somewhat over-simplistic,
but when the melodies and rhythms are
so delightful and so interesting, only
the most inflexible would not be won
over.
It begins
in a way that Haydn would have recognised
– adagio and pianissimo – interrupted
briefly by a threatening Wagnerian outburst
in the brass. The principal theme is
held back for almost four minutes, and
is preceded by a rising theme that begins
at the low end of the cello register,
and taken higher by the flute, before
the violins carry it to the peak. Kalliwoda
presents us with two very short themes
of equal importance, a martial timpani-driven
motto representing the heroic and a
lyrical but syncopated melody for the
playful. The development of these in
alternation then occupies the remainder
of the movement, which in itself dominates
the symphony time-wise (over 13 minutes
from a total of 28). The remaining movements
carry on with the alternating moods
in their different ways: the scherzo
humorous and bucolic, the adagio a mostly
solemn march and the finale breathless
and eventually the inevitable triumph
of the heroic.
Overture
No. 16, written twenty years after
the two symphonies on this disc, shows
a definite development in his music.
The presence of Beethoven is less obvious
now, though unquestionably still there
- particularly at the end. History doesn’t
record the occasion for which it was
written (or even if there was one),
so just sit back and enjoy it. It seems,
even in 1863, to summarise what orchestral
music in the 1800s was all about, even
that which was yet to come.
I find
it difficult to judge the performances
in works that I have never heard before,
but I feel safe in stating that I could
not have been so bowled over by this
music had Das Neue Orchester and Christoph
Spering not played their part. The orchestra
is a small one (around forty players)
employing authentic instruments: this
is not always a positive for me in music
of this era, but I have absolutely no
complaints about over-cooked tempi,
harsh strings or burbling horns here.
Everything and everyone sounds just
right.
I hope
I haven’t overdone the superlatives.
Music like this deserves to be heard,
not just by collectors who thrive on
new names, but anyone who enjoys great
music. It may only be September, but
this is unquestionably my discovery
of the year and my disc of the year.
David
J Barker
for
details
Das Neue Orchester/Christoph Spering 
