Related reviews:
Thomas Jensen conducts Scandinavian Classics
on Danacord -
Review 1
Review 2
This is a collection of quite rare Danish theatre music recorded
in mono by the Danish State Radio Symphony Orchestra between
1942 and 1952. If you do not immediately see yourself as being
in the market for such music - which you have likely never heard
before - I doubt that the set is for you, but it has its surprises.
There is in fact much to enjoy in this two-disc set, curated
by conductors Erik Tuxen and Launy Grøndahl.
The first CD begins with Friedrich Kuhlau’s suite of music
for the play
The Elf Hill. The overture is very Rossinian
in aspect, with chipper tunes and the Italian’s characteristic
penchant for cymbals and triangles. The suite is full of quite
enjoyable music - of particular note is the lovely “Dance
of the Elf Maidens”. If it does not grab your ears, it
at least constantly satisfies them. One caveat: the incidental
music concludes with a twenty-second hunting call for the horns
which means that the selection is rather anti-climactic.
Luckily, what follows is Niels W. Gade’s substantial tone-poem
Echoes
of Ossian. Gade was probably the most significant Danish
composer of the nineteenth century - his symphonies are superb
- and his
Echoes is, like Mendelssohn’s
Hebrides,
a “concert overture” written before the term “symphonic
poem” entered common use. I actually have heard this work
before, in a recording conducted by, of all people, King Frederik
IX, ruler of Denmark from 1947 to 1972. King Frederik, it seems,
was a music enthusiast so gifted that he was able to conduct
the Royal Danish Orchestra and Danish Radio orchestras on occasion,
and even recorded
Echoes of Ossian as part of a set of
his personal favorites to be found now on
Dacapo.
(His recording of the Wagner
Tannhauser overture is particularly
notable.)
Echoes is dark and brooding in content, reminding me in
tone - though not in melodic content or orchestration - of the
first movement of Mendelssohn’s “Scottish” Symphony.
There is a reassuring, lyrical second subject with hunting-horn
undertones, entrusted to the oboe at around the five-minute mark.
King Frederik really lays on the gloom in a very slow, steady
account; the present recording, led by Grøndahl, is rather
more lively and all the better (and more dramatic) for it.
The Gade
Novelettes for String Orchestra are expressively
quite the opposite of the overture; they are very charming and
ought to appeal to anybody with a fondness for Grieg’s
Holberg
Suite. I like these more with each listen, and will probably
add them to my string orchestra playlist alongside similar music
by Grieg, Wirén, and Sibelius. This music is undeservedly
a rarity, although a handful of modern recordings are available
which also, temptingly, include Gade’s other set of
Novelettes.
Gade’s contributions to the present album conclude with “In
the Blue Grotto,” a rather song-like, or even operatic,
excerpt from his ballet
Napoli.
J.P.E. Hartmann’s overture to
Little Kirsten opens
with a sweeping harp solo that brings Smetana’s
Má Vlast to
mind, but the work ends up being another light-hearted, inoffensive
overture in the Italian style. It rather outlasts its welcome,
unfortunately; I grew tired at around the six-minute mark. The
Funeral
March for Bertel Thorvaldsen does not suffer from the same
deficiency; rather grandiosely scored for organ, brass, percussion,
and frankly inaudible winds, the piece does double duty as a
memorial to the sculptor who was its namesake and a really enjoyable
example of music so earnest and so stern as to become a bit of
a self-parody. At least Hartmann raised his children to have
good taste in music: his daughter married Niels W. Gade.
The second disc opens with the
Aladdin Fairy-Tale Overture of
C.F.E. Horneman, which, despite some courageously ‘exotic’ scoring
for flute and harp, is rather more Fairy-Tale than it is Aladdin.
The opening two minutes are quite dramatic. Horneman’s
cartoonish
Gurre-Suite outstays its welcome, even at just
fifteen minutes, and Lange-Müller’s tempestuous prelude
to the play
Renaissance is not an improvement.
Next, however, we encounter the most famous work of Danish theatre
music, and indeed one of the most famous pieces of Danish classical
music there is. Excerpts from Carl Nielsen’s opera
Maskarade are
a welcome relief from the mediocrity of that which has come before.
The witty, sparkling Overture and Dance of the Cockerels here
bookend a pastoral prelude to Act II. This music is sufficiently
rooted in the repertoire that plenty of modern recordings are
available; Thomas Dausgaard on Dacapo, for instance, omits the
Act II prelude but conducts the overture and dance with the same
effervescence as and Grøndahl, in crisp digital sound.
Happily, from Nielsen on out the music on the second disc is
of much greater interest. Poul Schierbeck’s
Fête galante is
quite a celebration, orchestrated in very good cheer. The
Poème lyrique by
Peder Gram, in contrast, is eerie and melancholy; it reminds
me of the haunting Bernard Herrmann scores to films like
Vertigo,
though Gram came of course first. In even more modern a language
is Svend Schultz’s
Serenade for Strings, which is
cheery and quite refreshing but maintains a harmonic spunk and
rhythmic energy that bring to mind Stravinsky or the Swede Dag
Wirén. The
Serenade is like a nice glass of cool
water at the end of a long musical journey, although this feeling
is at least in part because some of the prior selections had
left me thirsty for rewarding listening.
A mixed collection, then, ranging from the weighty (Gade’s
overture, Nielsen, Gram) to the witty (Gade’s Novelettes,
Schultz) with a lot of light-hearted incidental music in the
middle. Not all of this is really remarkable or memorable. The
Danacord liner-notes also document the problems encountered when
creating these transfers of the original recordings, which date
from 1942 to 1951. Some of the tracks (such as the Children’s
Dance in
Elf Hill) still have regular clicks every few
seconds, a few sound markedly better than others (
Aladdin and
Ossian are
quite fine) and the hiss gets louder and softer within some of
the pieces - there is an audible increase at 4:20 in the first,
and 2:50 in the second, of the Gade
Novelettes. The sound
never actually detracts from the enjoyment of the music itself.
I should note, however, that I am not as dedicated an audiophile
as some and am willing to praise even the poorest of mono recordings
if the “character” of the acoustic seems to me suited
to the music. The gentle hiss and somewhat constricted string
sound of the Gade
Novelettes, for example, combines with
the tuneful, cheery music to make me feel like I am watching
a charming domestic comedy film from the 1940s.
If the repertoire intrigues you, especially beyond the very widely
available Nielsen, and if you are willing to bear the antiquated
sound, do enjoy this two-disc set. I believe, though, that while
much of the music here will satisfy, Hartmann, Horneman and Lange-Müller
in particular will fail to win many new friends. An enclosed
advertisement for Volume 3 promises Nielsen, Grieg, Svendsen,
and Sibelius. Call it the prejudice of familiarity, but to me
that volume sounds more promising.
Brian Reinhart