The Ondine label has for a while been building up a quietly
spectacular catalogue of CDs with the work of Einojuhani Rautavaara.
This impressive if rather brief contribution is every bit up
to the standards of all concerned: composer, musicians and recording
engineers.
Before the Icons started out life as a set of pieces
for piano, though the imagination and creativity employed to
make these orchestrations means that such origins are left so
far behind as to be invisible. There is a certain quality to
the harmonies which harks back to the 1950s, but this is part
of the attraction of the music. If you like Panufnik, perhaps
even at times Tippett, Vaughan Williams or other composers who
were at their best in and around this period, then you will
find a great deal to relish in the ten pieces which make up
these Icons. This music shouldn’t be confused with other
‘icons’ which have arisen since, and this music isn’t particularly
Holy, despite having titles which refer to Biblical subjects
and characters. In his own booklet notes, Rautavaara colourfully
fills in programmatic or descriptive content, but even without
such literal pointers the splendour and drama of the music transcends
single-message references. There are some unifying sonorities,
such as the opening fanfare of The Death of the Mother of
God, which can be compared to another moment 30 seconds
into part 6, The Baptism of Christ. The whole piece does
have an extra-musical quality which can be quite cinematic at
times in an exotic, Cecil B. DeMille fashion. Again, this is
not a criticism, but a way of getting some kind of handle on
what to expect. There is much which is contemplative and spiritual
without being overtly religious, there is much lyricism which
manages to avoid over-sweet sentimentality, and there is a powerful
and constant sense of drama which never loses its refinement
and poise.
Although written over 40 years later, a similar description
might apply to A Tapestry of Life. The underlying musical
messages are more universal here, but the landscapes are also
exotic and richly perfumed. Rautavaara has his melodies more
often than not played in parallel seconds – a sort of invisible
close-harmony which lends them an added astringency and tension,
as well as enriching the textures as a whole - especially where
the accompanying harmonies are relatively simple. The span of
these four movements is generally longer than with the Icons
and the feel is more timeless, though none of the movements
is over 8 minutes.
The first movement, Stars Swarming, was inspired by a
poem by Edith Södergran called The Stars. Both harp and
tuned percussion add sparkle to a piece whose moodily shifting
nocturnal harmonies build to a fleeting but high-impact climax.
Halcyon Days lifts the mood, with rippling impressionistic
colourations decorating rising harmonies. This movement is one
of the highlights of the disc, and I admire its clarity of purpose,
even though some might balk at its retro-romanticism. Sighs
and Tears further develops the moods and colours of the
previous movement in an extended lament which also shows how
close the emotions of quiet joy and poignant sadness can appear
to be. The Last Polonaise is “a variation of this solemn
dance, which seems to have a special significance to [the composer],
as a symbol of finality.” I was initially less convinced by
this movement, reminding me of something once said about Willem
Pijper: ‘if in doubt, Habanera’. Indeed, with the open tonalities
and richness of orchestration there is more than just stodgily
presented dance rhythms shared between this and other wood-panelled
pieces from the 1930s. Ultimately it all fits however, with
the Polonaise being just one of a number of elements in a movement
which refers back to the previous movements, and which digs
deep into dramas both dark and inspiring, though its sudden
end does leave us wanting more.
This is an impressive and highly recommendable disc. Superbly
recorded and performed, composer and conductor Leif Segerstam
has assimilated Rautavaara’s idiom entirely, and draws a synergy
of colour and expression from the Helsinki players which one
can hardly imagine being bettered. This is real music which
can be appreciated on many levels, and which should have a lasting
place in contemporary performing repertoire.
Dominy Clements
Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra/Leif Segerstam 
