This is a CD entirely
dedicated to Reinhold Glière,
containing performances of two of his
greatest works. It is a welcome event,
though unusual and perhaps even a little
brave. I say this bearing in mind the
historical facts surrounding the composer
and his conservative compositions, firmly
rooted in the classical tradition. They
are completely untouched by the modernism
that sprang into life at the beginning
of the 20th century. Although
all of Glière’s most important
compositions were written in the twentieth
century, his style of work places the
music firmly at the end of the nineteenth
century Russian romantic tradition.
He remained faithful to this tradition
all his life. His music was never modern
or "un-Russian", which gained
him the recognition of Stalin, a fact
that would possibly forever mark him
unfavourably with audiences to come,
particularly outside Russia. It is speculation
to say that his enormous body of work
has been neglected, and nowadays seldom
performed, because of his services,
during the Stalin years, as chairman
of the organising committee of the Soviet
Composer’s Union. This was a political
group created to regulate, monitor and,
if necessary, "correct" the
musical art form, thus ensuring it would
be "national in form and socialist
in content", as dictated by Stalin.
Whether Glière truly supported
Stalin and his views or whether his
apparent ideology was due to a survival
instinct, remains speculative. Essentially,
however, Glière was a nineteenth
century artist and this is possibly
the main reason why he never assimilated
modernism. Naturally, this classic romanticism
is what his music reflects.
Glière’s body
of work is not just great in quantity
but also in quality. His compositions
are generally skilfully crafted, comfortably
romantic but not passionately dramatic.
They combine beautiful melodies with
often inventive orchestration. Although
he is possibly one of the least known
Russian composers, his contribution
to the development of Russian ballet
is generally acknowledged to be as important
as that of his more famous predecessor,
Tchaikovsky (1840-1893).
This CD presents us
with two of Glière’s works that
perfectly illustrate his elegant style
of composition: nostalgic and evocative
of the world he was born into and grew
up with.
The Cello Concerto
is a typical Glière piece, firmly
in the classic tradition but with some
surprises. The first movement, Allegro,
introduces the principal theme with
the solo cello, after what sounds like
an almost messy beginning by the strings.
It is a beautiful melody that gradually
develops lyrically, followed a little
later by the supporting theme introduced
by an oboe. These grow in scale until
a totally unexpected new orchestral
melody suddenly arrives to leave us
wondering where did it all come from.
The second movement, Andante,
is my personal favourite. It is the
one that gives this concerto its Russian
character, through the deliberate allusion
to the Polovtsian Dances from
the opera Prince Igor, composed
by another of Glière’s famous
predecessors, Alexander Borodin (1833-1887).
The melody is skilfully used as an underscore
to the movement. It beautifully exposes
its heartfelt melancholy, its atmospheric,
nearly nocturnal characteristics, as
suits a truly romantic work. The final
movement, Allegro Vivace, is
suitably the most vivacious of the three.
It is almost cinematic in style, effortlessly
taking the listener into a world of
sound that could easily be translated
into images of a virtuoso dancer executing
a complex choreography with grace. This
is perhaps revealing of Glière’s
excellent understanding of ballet music
and gives the concerto a final touch
of elegance, to my mind, more obvious
than the scornful finale that some critics
claim to hear.
Quirine Viersen, the
young Dutch cellist, gives a suitably
melancholic interpretation of the concerto,
delivering an expressive performance,
poetic and moving at times, demonstrating
a perfect understanding of the romantic
musicality of the piece as well as of
the instrument’s range. This is generally
present throughout the work with equal
quality both in the solo parts and in
the conversation with the orchestra.
This is particularly so in the second
movement where the cello’s nostalgic,
romantic sound seems to get a life of
its own, almost as if telling the listener
it feels lonely and needs us to jump
in and keep it company.
The second piece on
the CD, the Horn Concerto, is
rightfully one of Glière’s best
known and most acclaimed works. The
French horn is not often the subject
of a concerto but, with the addition
of valves, in the early part of the
19th century, it became a
full range solo instrument. While many
composers were taken by its range and
unique tone and incorporated it more
prominently in their compositions, Glière
went one step further. Here he captured
its full power by composing a concerto
for horn and orchestra. He wrote it
especially for Valeri Polekh, the solo
horn player at the Bolshoi. Polekh was
obviously a virtuoso of the instrument,
as this concerto is unprecedented in
both length and difficulty. It is classically
built in three movements: Allegro,
Andante and Moderato, and
the romantic and Russian elements are
again present as in the cello concerto.
The first movement is perhaps the most
unusual, beginning with an orchestral
tutti that eventually brings
in the soloist who immediately launches
into a bright, singing theme. In fact
this singing aspect develops in an unusual,
beautiful manner in the second movement,
which is very demanding on the player,
though it sounds deceptively simple.
The sound of the horn gradually grows
in a way that resembles a human voice.
It is harmoniously supported by the
orchestra, developing into a nostalgic
aria-like solo, underlined by
heartfelt legato phrases. The
final movement is thoroughly Glière
at his best: lively, with driving romantic
energy and echoes of Russian folklore.
Eliz Erkalp does justice
to the difficulty of the piece and clearly
demonstrates why she holds the position
of first French horn soloist with the
Royal Flemish Philharmonic. Her technique
is flawless throughout; she plays with
virtuosity and beauty, perfectly demonstrated
in all three movements but most particularly
in the second, which is arguably the
most demanding of the three.
The performance of
the Royal Flemish Philharmonic, under
the distinguished, expert leadership
of French conductor Marc Soustrot, is
excellent throughout the disc and demonstrates
their quality and versatility. Suitably
supporting the soloists and enhancing
the character of the pieces, they deliver
the true, gloriously pleasant and comfortably
romantic Glière style. They benefit
from the fact that this is a SACD Hybrid
disc, which when played on a SACD player,
gives one a clear, flawless sound, almost
as if one was there live, listening
to their performance. But it is entirely
to their credit as musicians, both orchestra
and conductor, and not to the technical
advances that one is able to distinguish
even the faintest subtleties of the
individual instruments while never losing
the total, glorious sound of the full
orchestra on stage in a concert hall.
Margarida Mota-Bull
And a further
perspective from Rob Barnett:-
Tom Janssens' notes
for this release stress Gliere's nineteenth
century credentials. Listening to these
concertos they're rarely in doubt. The
music, written after the end of the
Second World War when the composer was
seventy-one and seventy-five respectively,
is pervaded by nostalgia. The lyricism
of the Cello Concerto you could
cut with a knife. In the first movement
allegro there are long unaccompanied
sections where the cello trills freely
in a way reminiscent of Cant des
Ocells by Casals. The romantic curvature
of his melodies is resourceful and satisfying.
I half caught myself thinking of the
Elgar Cello Concerto and of another
British work lying a decade in the future
yet just as backward looking - and as
potent - the Finzi Cello Concerto. In
the second movement the scene being
set by the confiding orchestra becomes
an alluring Borodinesque caprice-song
delivered with a full heart by the cello
solo. After two movements each exceeding
16 minutes, comes a movement half as
long with a vigorous progressive pulse
yet with none of the scorch and scathe
of the Shostakovich concertos. The Horn
Concerto is played with eminent
rounded confidence and a portly singing
tone. Poise meets Tchaikovsky (3:43,
II), Rachmaninov (4:33, I) and even
Elgar in this music. Gliere may have
sat on various Soviet cultural committees,
received state honours and kept the
banner flying but none of this is a
barrier to his music carrying a potent
if rather old-fashioned charge. He has
some similarities with Miaskovsky in
his nostalgic lyricism although he is
not as distinctive.
An essentially old
fashioned voice in debt to Tchaikovsky
and the Nationalists. None of that is
to his discredit. Do not expect originality
in his style yet his music is professional
and shapely and invites a return visit.
Rob Barnett