Alan HOVHANESS (1911-2000)
Symphony No 1 Exile, Op.17/2 [22:45]
Armenian Rhapsody No 1, Op.45 [5:35]
Armenian Rhapsody No 2, Op.51 [8:56]
Armenian Rhapsody No 3, Op.189 [6:40]
Concerto for soprano saxophone and strings, Op.344 [17:13]
Song of the sea (1933) [6:26]
Kenneth Radnofsky (saxophone) (Concerto)
John McDonald (piano) (Song of the sea)
Boston Modern Orchestra Project/Gil Rose
rec. 2011 [no location given]
BMOP SOUND 1020 [67:39]
One doubts that the world will ever wholly manage to come to terms with the
music of Hovhaness. The sheer volume of his output – over five hundred works
including seven operas and sixty-seven symphonies, and that excludes his music
before 1940 much of which was destroyed by the composer – rivals the prolixity
of seventeenth century composers such as Bach or Vivaldi. As we get to know
more of his works, it also becomes apparent that like Bach or Vivaldi, Hovhaness
had a tendency to recycle his music, so that ideas originally conceived for
one medium or context will reappear in another later work; but even so, the
fact that he was so prolific makes it difficult to grasp his achievement as
a whole.
However we can now appreciate that his works seem to fall into three distinct
‘periods’ – first an early Nordic style influenced by Sibelius, which he abandoned
in the late 1930s when he came to terms with his Armenian heritage, much of
the music of this period being then destroyed: a second period of twenty years
in which he wrote much of what has now become his best-known music such as
the second symphony Mysterious Mountain and The prayer of St
Gregory, characterised by a fusion of mysticism and strict contrapuntal
discipline: and then a third experimental period in which he began to explore
wider musical traditions including oriental music. He changed his name from
Alan Vaness Chakmakjian initially to Alan Hovaness (without the second h),
and only then to the name by which we recognise him today; it is perhaps unfortunate
that (according to Jim Svejda) the name “bears a resemblance to an exceedingly
vulgar Czech word for the by-product of a basic bodily function.”
The works on this disc are nearly all early works, and centre around the three
Armenian Rhapsodies written in 1944 – the widely different opus numbers
are misleading, since apparently it was only at this period that Hovhaness
began to catalogue his works and the assignation of numbers to the music he
had already written at the time was largely arbitrary, as he explains in an
often amusing interview given in 1981 which is reproduced in the substantial
and informative insert booklet. These rhapsodies are conscious efforts to
reclaim his Armenian roots and are strongly reminiscent in form of similar
works by Enescu and other nationalist composers, following the model of Liszt,
to create pieces based on national folksongs. The results are lively and entertaining,
but not particularly redolent of what one might now identify as the ‘Hovhaness
sound’. The Second Rhapsody develops into a series of at first decidedly
un-nationalist fugues – although the Armenian influences eventually come to
dominate the music before it stops rather abruptly. The Third Rhapsody
is particularly beautiful.
The tone poem Song of the sea predates Hovhaness’s assignation of
opus numbers to his catalogue of works, and is one of the few works from the
1930s to escape his wholesale destruction of his scores at that time – in
the manuscript he gave his name as ‘Hovaness’. It opens with a thoroughly
romantic piano solo, and it is most certainly not the sort of music
that we now associate with Hovhaness: there are elements which remind one
of Moeran, of all people, with references to folksong melodies of decidedly
Celtic bent. The work was dedicated to the British-born painter Hugh Hegh,
and one could perhaps speculate that these overtones might have been a deliberate
tribute to him. The title apparently derives from the Book of Exodus, but
since Hovhaness in his interview states positively that he always assigned
his titles after the music was written - does that contention really
apply to works such as the precisely programmatic Mount St Helen’s Symphony?
- this may or may not be of relevance. It is a really beautiful piece in its
own right, and John McDonald plays the solo part with just the right delicacy
of touch.
The Saxophone Concerto has a much later opus number than the other
works on this disc, and dates from as late as 1980; but the booklet notes
refer to it has harking back to Hovhaness’s earliest musical idiom – and one
wonders whether here he is recycling music from that period. Indeed the very
opening brings hints of Mysterious Mountain with its sequence of
unrelated modal chords before the soprano saxophone enters surprisingly in
its very lowest register. It is odd how the instrument has developed two such
diametrically opposed styles of playing during the twentieth century, with
two such totally different timbres. Radnofsky has a very rich and
almost jazz-influenced tone; one can imagine this concerto being played to
greater advantage with a more etiolated ‘classical’ style and less ‘body’.
In the second movement he brings a ‘bluesy’ swing to the beautiful opening
theme that seems very far removed from what one suspects Hovhaness had in
mind; although finely done in itself, it seems to be at odds with the music,
and the result just does not sound like Hovhaness at all. The finale brings
a very Hovhanessian chorale theme on strings alone, but once again the playing
of Radnofsky could be less vibrato-laden to the advantage of the
music. On the other hand one is grateful to be able to hear the piece at all.
Many of Hovhaness’s works were recorded during his lifetime, mainly in recordings
conducted by the composer himself where the playing and recording sometimes
left a good deal to be desired. The Exile Symphony was also recorded
by Gerard Schwarz in the 1990s when he inaugurated a series of Hovhaness recordings
for Delos (DE3168) - now deleted but presumably scheduled for reissue by Naxos
at some stage. It is therefore only here that this disc comes into direct
competition with other recordings. The Boston Modern Orchestra Project has
a praiseworthy record for the production of many worthwhile recordings of
works otherwise unavailable; and in this symphony their performance is at
least the equal of the admirable Schwarz recording. The sound is slightly
more distant at the beginning, but beautifully phrased and played. The music
can take a number of different treatments. The big orchestral outbursts later
have all the power and body that one could desire. There are decided overtones
of Bloch in some of this music. Rose is consistently slower than Schwarz in
the outer movements - slightly faster in the Grazioso - and overall
his performance is three minutes longer than Schwarz’s, quite a difference
in such a short work. The contrasted recording acoustics make quite a difference,
and Rose’s players phrase the deceptively simple second movement - added when
the composer revised the score in 1970 - with just the right degree of grace.
Incidentally there is also a recording by Stokowski and the NBC orchestra
available on Guild
which includes the original second movement - a piece of mock-Biblical epic
music which is not a patch on its replacement - but the abysmal recording
quality rules this out totally of consideration. This quite apart from the
ridiculously frenetic speed that Stokowski adopts in the final movement, over
30% faster than Rose takes here and 10% faster than Schwarz, allowing the
music absolutely no time at all to expand or make its impact.
One might regret that Rose and his players did not take the opportunity to
let us hear more early Hovhaness – possibly his beautiful and brief Op.2 Monadnock,
given a broadcast performance a few years back by Ken Young with the BBC Scottish
Symphony Orchestra but never commercially recorded. Nevertheless Rose’s performance
of the symphony, giving the music all the time it needs to breathe, is really
something that it would have been a shame to miss. Works like the Exile
Symphony give the lie in performances like this to the characterisation
of Hovhaness as simply ‘new age’ music that can appeal only to those who share
the composer’s fascination with mysticism.
If you love the music of Hovhaness – and it really is very loveable
– then this recording is an absolute must. We get a superb performance of
the Exile Symphony, three gloriously contrasted Armenian Rhapsodies
and a valuable glimpse into Hovhaness’s earliest style in Song of the
sea. If you are pathologically allergic to Hovhaness, then this disc
will not convert you; but then you will be beyond salvation anyway.
Paul Corfield Godfrey
A superb performance of the Exile Symphony, three gloriously contrasted
Armenian Rhapsodies and a valuable glimpse into Hovhaness’s earliest
style.
See also reviews by Rob Barnett and Dan Morgan