Sophie-Carmen Eckhardt-Gramatté's
February
Suite was written shortly after her second marriage.
It is the epitome of her early romantically eloquent style. The
work seems to have been disdained by the composer who under the
influence of her studies with Max Trapp in Berlin in the mid-late-1930s
turned towards dissonance. Even so, she did not destroy the score
and it came to light in a basement in Winnipeg in 1980 after
her death. After a couple of performances in the 1930s it sank
from sight and its first performance in modern times was by the
two artists featured here. The music is confidently, indeed joyously,
late nineteenth century. Its romantic substance seems to reference
various composers. Without quite his complexity it might be an
early work by Korngold. In the major first movement you can add
a Bach-like severity. Later episodes take in elements of Chopin
and Brahms. The whole reflects
joie-de-vivre - it is surely
no coincidence that it is dedicated to her second husband, carries
the name of the month in which they married and was completed
within six months of the wedding. So there you have it, an exuberant
romantic piece with good ideas that yield up their eloquent potential
to a composer more associated with dissonance than late-romanticism.
The coupling is the
Violin Sonata by Montreal-born
Robert
Turner. He is a graduate of McGill who studied at London's
RCM (Howells and Jacob) and later with Messiaen and Roy Harris.
His other teachers included Claude Champagne - we need to hear
more of
his music, too! He held teaching positions at
various US and Canadian universities and retired in 1985. Turner’s
music includes a string quartet no. 1 (1949), a Symphony for
Strings (1960), a Third Symphony (1990), a viola concerto and
several operas amongst many other works. The Second Symphony
(1983) is in one movement and carries the title
Gift from
the Sea. You can find full details in the online
Encyclopedia
of Music in Canada. The Sonata was commissioned by the Harry
Adaskin and Frances Marr duo and premiered by them in 1956 at
Vancouver Art Gallery. The liner-note by Delores Keahey prepares
us for the presence of a twelve-tone row. However it is freely
deployed and accessibly transformed. One might almost be listening
to a third violin sonata by John Ireland or Thomas Dunhill
had they lived into the 1970s. It's a demanding work of considerable
variety and fascinating incident. The brief
Aria alla chaconne is
strikingly contemplative. But the finale with its sauntering,
lyrical vigour and tramping relaxation sets the seal on a very
satisfying piece of music. Violin duos should seek it out.
The recording is ever so slightly claustrophobic but is vivid
enough to match the evidently committed performances.
Rob Barnett