The new Toccata Classics
label has been created expressly to
explore unjustly neglected repertoire.
It claims to be the first label to tackle
forgotten repertoire head-on, recording
only the music that has not yet gained
the audience it deserves. I am sure
that a few other independent labels
would perhaps justifiably dispute that.
However, the small but growing Toccata
catalogue reveals riches such as music
by Baltic 20th- and 21st-century
composers, music by neglected composers
from earlier times such as Mysliveček,
Taneyev, Nín and Kapsberger and treasures
from British music by the likes of Donald
Tovey, Havergal Brian and Matthew Taylor.
I have to admit that,
although I am particularly interested
in music from the Baltic region, I had
not come across the name of
the Lithuanian composer Vytautas Bacevičius
before, nor does Grove carry any independent
reference to him. It transpires that
he was actually the brother of the Polish
composer Grażyna Bacewicz (1919-69).
Confused? Let me expand. For many centuries
Poland and Lithuania were very
closely linked – right up to the First
World War. The border between Poland
and Lithuania slithered east and west
several times over the years and its
current location represents possibly
its westernmost position of all. Both
Vytautas Bacevičius
and Grażyna Bacewicz were born
in Łódź (pronounced ‘woodge’),
Poland’s second city. It seems the family
divided between Kaunas in Lithuania,
where Bacevičius lived with his
father and Łódź, where Bacewicz
lived with her mother. While Grażyna
Bacewicz has enjoyed a little recognition
as a composer outside her native Poland
(especially with the Concerto for Strings),
Bacevičius’s reputation seems to
have faltered, partly due, perhaps,
to Lithuania being swallowed up into
the Russian Empire and then the
Soviet Union after World War II until
regaining independence in 1990 and his
somewhat unsuccessful move to the United
States in 1940, where he failed to promote
his music adequately, eking out a living
as a music teacher and sometime pianist.
His major works include six symphonies,
four piano concertos, a violin concerto
and piano music.
This enterprising disc
of first recordings provides a more
or less chronological survey of some
of Bacevičius’s
more important music. I was immediately
struck by the power and originality
of what I heard and wondered how on
earth this could have been the first
time I had had the opportunity to hear
any of these works. The earliest piece
on the CD is his one-movement
Piano Concerto No.1 Sur les thèmes
lituaniens from 1929. The piece
is not one that the listener would immediately
recognise as being inspired by folk
music, so deeply imbedded are the themes
in a style reminiscent of late Skryabin
and Szymanowski. There also some very
faint echoes of Debussy. This 14-minute
‘concerto’ falls into four sections
but they do not readily translate to
what one normally expects of this genre.
In the Poème
électrique, Bacevičius’
style has moved on. Gone are the ‘exotic’
harmonies and complex rhythms. These
are replaced by a ‘machinist’ style
which brings to mind other music from
around this time such as Mosolov’s Iron
Foundry, Honegger’s Pacific 231
and Prokofiev’s Pas d’acier,
Second Symphony and, from a little earlier,
the first movement of the Scythian
Suite. This is music of little beauty
but plenty of raw power, dazzling colours
and a wonderful inner forward momentum.
The Second Symphony,
entitled Della Guerra (from the
war) was begun during his trip to South
America in 1940, whence he travelled
to the USA, never to return to his native
country. In mood and atmosphere it brought
to my mind another great three-movement
symphony which reflects on war, Honegger’s
Symphonie liturgique. The Swiss
composer’s symphony could have been
a template for
Bacevičius’ powerful work, were
it not for the fact that Honegger’s
piece post-dates this work by five years!
Bacevičius does not have Honegger’s
lyrical gift – he was not a great
composer of melody - but the sincerity
and passion behind the music is never
in doubt. The Second Symphony has a
very specific programme – in the first
movement bombs raining down upon Poland,
the second portraying the sorrow of
war and the burying of the dead and
the third the mainland battle for Western
Europe. The language here has become
slightly more conservative, reflecting
the composer’s attempt at ingratiating
himself and his music to a conservative
American audience.
The Sixth Symphony
dates from
twenty years later than the Second and
everything is more concise. The language
is more complex again, but less aggressive
and I enjoyed just letting the music
‘happen’ to me. The final work on this
disc was Bacevičius’ last orchestral
composition. Graphique
displays the most advanced and abstract
development of the composer’s language.
Some of it sounds quite a lot like Varèse
and Xenakis and as a whole it sometimes
displays an almost pointillistic technique,
exploring sound for sound’s sake but
always within a taught and well thought-out
structure.
The Lithuanian State
Symphony Orchestra was created at the
time of Lithuania’s self-proclaimed
independence from the Soviet Union in
1989 and proves to be an excellent body
of musicians. The performances here
are all first rate and as committed
as anyone could wish. The artists involved
are all from Lithuania’s younger generation,
Vytautas Lukočius, a former pupil
of Segerstam and Panula at the Sibelius
Academy in Helsinki, Martinus Staškus,
a winner of several
conducting competitions and the exciting
young pianist Aidas Puodžiukas, winner
of several competitions. All produce
musical and exciting results and offer
the best possible advocacy for this
unjustly neglected music.
Although the CD booklet
does not give specifics about the recording
venue(s), I have to say the sound smacks
slightly of the radio studio rather
than a concert hall. The recording is
excellent, allowing the detail, colour
and complexity of this fascinating music
to come through, although at times I
wished the ambience was slightly warmer,
allowing the music to ‘breathe’ a little
more easily.
For anyone remotely
interested in Eastern European Music
and particularly from between the wars,
this is a ‘must have’. Like me you will,
I am sure, make a wonderful discovery.
Derek Warby
See also review
by Rob Barnett