Copland’s Symphony No. 3 remains his most performed
- the opening of the fourth movement based on the Fanfare
for the Common Man. Inexplicably his Symphony No. 1,
a re-orchestration of the Symphony for Organ and Orchestra
(1924), is much less familiar, though the Dance Symphony
seems to have fared a little better. For my money, though, the
latter – derived from Copland’s ballet Grohg, itself inspired
by F.W. Murnau’s vampire classic Nosferatu – is the most
fascinating piece here. Interestingly, the film’s subtitle is
eine Symphonie des Grauens, or Symphony of Horror.
At the helm is Marin
Alsop who, as a Bernstein protégé, has assimilated her mentor’s
instinctive feel for Copland’s music in general and his infectious
rhythms in particular. And although she is now installed in
Baltimore, Alsop continues to make fine discs with her erstwhile
band, the Bournemouth Symphony; this includes an earlier recording
of Copland’s Third Symphony (Naxos 8.559106).
The quiet opening
to the Prelude of Symphony No. 1 is pure Copland
– gentle, lyrical, expansive – with some marvellous playing
from flute and strings. The slow, rocking figures are nicely
done, too, but the animated Scherzo reminds us that this
is the composer fresh from his sojourn in Paris. The pounding,
cymbal-capped climax at 1:57 isn’t that far from the primitivism
of Stravinsky’s Rite, as is the sinuous woodwind writing
thereafter.
Even here there
is the transparency of texture we know from the later works,
such as Appalachian Spring, with a hint of the raunchy
rhythms of El Salón México. The bracing brass writing
of the Finale has the effect of a tangy sorbet, cleansing
the palate of any lingering sweetness. Copland’s is a direct,
unassuming talent and even his more daring music has a lucidity
that is most endearing. Alsop judges the first grinding climax
very well indeed, investing the jaunty rhythms that follow with
plenty of bounce. But it’s the final peroration – baying brass
aided and abetted by snare and bass drums – that provides the
biggest shot of adrenaline thus far.
Copland’s Short
Symphony may be on a smaller scale but its rhythms are much
more complex than anything we’ve yet heard. Alsop and the Bournemouth
orchestra relish the mix of piquant harmonies and odd juxtapositions
that make up the first movement. They also capture the sense
of uneasy calm in the second – the warmth and amplitude of the
recording very telling at the expansive climax – before returning
to the lopsided rhythms and quirky humour of the first. This
is music that cries out for the irrepressible, loose-limbed
Lenny, who really knew how to spring these rhythms to great
effect. That said, Alsop and her band of Brits do a sterling
job.
The Dance Symphony
has its roots in German Expressionist cinema but it’s no mere
accompaniment to a silent film. Certainly in terms of structure
it feels and sounds symphonic, not at all like a collection
of dances. The yearning clarinet figure in the ‘Dance of the
Adolescent’ is magically played but the masterstroke comes with
the rippling harp entry at 2:17. Instantly we are pitched into
the flickering world of Caligari and Nosferatu,
both unsettling and unsettled. There is real pathos too – after
all we do feel some sympathy for the monster, be it Nosferatu,
Frankenstein or King Kong. The glockenspiel adds special colour
to this strange danse macabre.
Listening to the
ghostly ‘Dance of the Girl Who Moves as if in a Dream’ I was
reminded of the quieter moments of Bartók’s ballet The Miraculous
Mandarin. There is an underlying menace here – listen to
those tolling woodwind figures – although there’s little explicit
Bartókian barbarism. Still, the climax to the slinkily provocative
‘Dance of Mockery’ should send a shiver up your spine; it all
ends in a paroxysm of orchestral violence.
A varied and engrossing
survey of early Copland, well played and superbly recorded.
Put away those much-played CDs of Appalachian Spring
and try some earlier pieces instead – you won’t regret it. I’d
put this newcomer alongside the Naxos recording of The Tender
Land Suite and Old American Songs (see review)
as some of the most rewarding Copland I’ve heard in a long time.
Both discs are much-needed additions to the composer’s ever-fascinating
canon.
Dan Morgan
Bournemouth
Symphony Orchestra/Marin Alsop 
