Naxos have yet again proved to be staunch and loyal supporters
of new repertoire and composers. Lucky the musician who can write
a major forty minute symphony in November and have it recorded
for international distribution the following June. Indeed all
five of Alla Pavlova’s previous symphonies and her ballet
Sulamith have been recorded on this label. However, this
is my first encounter with her music so by definition my impressions
are not born of long exposure or great experience. I had not realised
that the now-named Tchaikovsky Symphony Orchestra was none other
than the much-loved Moscow Radio Symphony Orchestra of yore. Many
a Melodiya recording was enhanced by their powerful and unbridled
playing. Sadly, that quality is somewhat diminished here with
the strings in particular starting the symphony in scrappy and
untidy form. Things do get better but the characterful playing
of former years is missing. Pavlova contributes the liner-note
which explains that she ‘names’ each of her symphonies.
This is not to mean that they are subtitled - the main work here
is simply
Symphony No.6 - instead she likens it to the
relationship between mother and child. So for Pavlova this symphony
is Vincent - after the painter Van Gogh. Apparently a copy of
his
Starry Night - reproduced on the CD cover - sits over
the composer’s piano in her study and whilst there is no
specific programme to the work she writes; “.. they share
to some degree, the same view: that life, filled with endless
energy and creativity, is a synthesis of joy and sorrow”.
Non-programmatic it might well be but there is one mystery thrown
up by the work.
The CD lists the contribution of violinist Mikhail Shestakov very
prominently - including a photograph and biography and his name
above the conductor and orchestra n the cover. Yet nowhere in
the rest of the booklet or in Pavlova’s description of either
work is any mention of a solo violin part made. Before playing
the disc I had no idea if Shestakov’s contribution was to
the symphony or the ballet suite. Is it a case of “herein
lies enshrined the soul…..” ? - I have no idea. And
to be honest, having heard the symphony and the violin’s
role in it I’m none the wiser; which is where the core of
my concern with this work lies. On one hand, Pavlova links the
music to Van Gogh with the statement above and on the other we
are presented with a work whose movements are simply titled “I,
II, III and IV Finale” with no other indication at all.
For my taste, despite the clear compositional and orchestrational
skill - although her use of percussion is about as dull as it
is possible to be - of the work there is too generalised an emotional
journey for it engage my heart let alone my head. Pavlova is good
at creating an atmosphere but less impressive in her handling
of its dramatic trajectory. Although I’m loath to use generalised
labels this is very tonal post-modern music that is an easy listen
albeit of a rather stern and sombre nature. I have to be honest
and say I find the style of this music more cinematic than symphonic
- that is not a comment on the structure of the work but the way
in which the mood remains so static, as if accompanying a scene.
Pavlova’s assured handling of the orchestra is very conservative
and at no point during the work did I feel she produced textures
or sounds that would have disturbed the sleep of a 19
th
Century composition teacher. Likewise the harmonic palette is
very ‘safe’ with the chords that would make Rachmaninoff
seem radical. She does not seek to pare the harmony away either
so it is not as if she wants to tread the path of minimalism either.
There is a curious paradox here that her tribute to one of the
great revolutionaries in the Art World should be expressed in
such conservative music. In the mixed bag of my discs for review
recently I listened to the Naxos/Falletta recording of the Corigliano
Red Violin Concerto. Corigliano was a name that popped
into my head a couple of times listening here because of both
the solo violin but also his use of a lyrical tonality as well.
But the only conclusion I could come too is that his are the far
finer works which achieve a fusion between lyrical writing that
is complex yet accessible while finding a balance linking a musical
heritage they wish to acknowledge to their place as part of contemporary
culture. Both of Pavlova’s works as presented here are not
of their time - which, I guess, is why they might appeal to other
listeners far more than myself. I would not want to give the impression
that I did not find things to enjoy here - the big climax about
3:00 into track 2 has a rather epic grandeur. Much of Pavlova’s
writing is string led and it is here that the Tchaikovsky Symphony
Orchestra sound short on familiarity - the playing lacking the
absolute unanimity more rehearsal time would allow. Shestakov
plays his solo part perfectly well, but its more
Schindler’s
List than
The Red Violin - I’m trying very hard
to avoid cinematic allusions but its all but impossible - in technical
terms, pained lyricism being the order of the day. I just wish
it were more individual. Conductor Patrick Baton does a perfectly
adequate job as far as one can say although Pavlova comments ominously;
“…I should also say that I imagined a somewhat different
Finale from this recorded version: one performed more slowly and
flexibly. Performers, however, always have their own interpretation.”
Not the most ringing endorsement I have recently heard - after
a BBC recording session at Maida Vale once I remember the composer
coming out and saying to the orchestra “Thank you for trying
so hard….” - to which the inevitable reply “thank
you for trying us so hard…” rang out… it was
not a major work as memory serves.
The cover of the CD describes the symphony as “highly emotional”
and yes it is in a generalised rather obvious way. After forty
minutes of unrelenting emoting it was something of a relief to
move onto the ballet suite
Thumbelina which Pavlova describes
as “a kind of immigrant’s story performed by animals”.
I can’t think of many fairytales with diaspora as a central
theme so probably best here to ignore any narrative and focus
on the music. The greater narrative demands here sits more easily
with Pavlova’s naturally illustrative pictorial style. Again
the mood is overtly romantic and traditional. I can’t say
I think that Pavlova has adapted her style to accommodate the
demands of dancing as opposed to the requirements of the symphony
earlier - this is music stronger on atmosphere than any explicitly
dance-led intent. Track 6
Waltz Mirage is hardly original
in its use of celesta but has a nostalgic charm and a light regret
that is all the more welcome after the sobriety of the disc to
this point. But if I’m being picky Nedbal’s
Valse
Triste has covered this emotional ground before and better
eighty years or so earlier. The following
Tango [track
7] again has a sinuous interest although here I do suspect Baton
could have wrung more character from this - it seems a little
literal - particularly since it is danced in the ballet by a piglet
called Chris[!] Generally the work as a whole benefits from a
more transparent scoring and the gentler less oppressively emotional
objective. I still miss an individuality that lifts the music
out of the generic - perfectly pleasant though it is.
As my introduction to the work of Alla Pavlova it is hard for
me to advise readers, either admirers or the unconvinced, whether
this represents a continuation of previous work or a radical change.
I would assume the former and that being the case I for one will
not be seeking out any other discs in the series for the simple
fact that this music does not speak to me with a voice that is
either original or insightful enough to merit repeated listening.
Nick Barnard
see also review by Rob
Barnett
Mikhail Shestakov (violin) 
