Following hard on the heels of Sir Andrew Davis’s fine 2010 Chandos
recording
(CHSA5088)
of Delius’s
Appalachia, comes another captivating performance
from Bo Holten in his much acclaimed Delius series for Danacord (see
end of review). It is a glorious and very affecting, so much so that
tears often stood in my eyes especially through its choral finale.
Just to repeat what I have written previously about this evocative work:
‘In his preface to the score Delius wrote: “
Appalachia is the old
Indian name for North America. The composition mirrors the moods of
tropical nature in the great swamps bordering on the Mississippi River
which is so intimately associated with the life of the old Negro slave
population.”
The inspiration for this work can be traced back to the time when Delius
was in Florida, near the wide St Johns River, engaged in cultivating
oranges. His mind dwelt on music not oranges. He would sit smoking on
sultry nights engrossed in listening to the complex harmonies of the
singing of black farm labourers in the distance. Many Delians also believe
that he fell in love, at that time, with a black girl with whom he had
a child. Although the romance did not end well, Delius never forgot
it. Tasmin Little has even suggested that this girl was the love of
his life. It is thought by some that the emotional turbulence spilled
over into this and so many other works besides those inspired by his
time in America. So much of Delius’s music speaks of the transience
and tragedy of life and love. This sadness is emphasised in the sentiments
of the slave song on which
Appalachia is based. These slaves
were considered as little more than commodities to be bought and sold,
families being split up in the process and literally ‘sold down the
river’. Delius’s music, especially in that heart-rending concluding
song, is full of pathos and pity for their predicament.
Bo Holten gives a beautifully-shaped and sensitive reading of
Appalachia
commencing with a wondrous scene-setting as the brass echo back and
forth across the sound-stage and misty strings, horns and harp shape
a sultry landscape along the river. The quickening tempo ushers in the
melody of the slave song first hinted at on strumming strings imitative
of banjos and then in a majestic sweep conjuring up a vision of the
mighty Mississippi. After this comes the statement of the theme proper
first on cor anglais and then transferred to the minor key for the first
variation on horn. This is followed by nine other variations in a variety
of moods of joy, of reflection and almost unbearable poignancy. Holten’s
sensitivity to them all never slackens and how instinctively and subtly
his Aarhus players respond. There is a waltz and marches and episodes
of heartfelt delicacy and exquisitely shaded nature-painting. The climax
is that magnificent and heart-rending final variation for chorus and
orchestra and the slave’s reassurance to his woman – ‘And don’t you
be so lonesome love. And don’t you fret and cry ... And you’ll find
me ever waiting ...’ – as the boat comes to carry him away down river.
I wish I could be as enthusiastic about this performance of
Sea
Drift. The words by Walt Whitman, centre on a young boy’s sudden
awareness of ‘the harsh realities of life and love’ as he witnesses
the sundering of the love of two sea-birds when the she-bird fails to
return to her nest and the male is left to mourn endlessly. Holten’s
portrait of the seas off Long Island shines and shimmers in sympathy
with the tragedy unfolding on the beach. The Aarhus singers respond
likewise, ecstatic in their first “Shine! shine! shine!” chorus as the
sea birds bask in the sun together, through to the hopeful “Blow, blow,
blow sea-winds … blow my mate to me” and finally, hopelessly, to - “…
no more, no more with me!” The blending of their voices with that of
the baritone soloist voicing the growing despair of the male-bird, is
particularly poignant. The weakness here is the soloist Johan Reuter
who in his reach for technical competence, and just once or twice less
than perfect English, lacks just enough expressiveness to really convince
about the male bird’s growing despondency and anguish.
Of more interest to committed Delians is the excerpt from Delius’s early
opera,
Koanga. This covers the action of the scene in which
Koanga, a negro slave who was formerly an African chieftain, is to marry
his sweetheart Palmyra. She is abducted by the plantation’s overseer,
Perez who covets her. In his wrath and anguish Koanga strikes Martinez
the plantation owner. This is a hanging offence and Koanga has to escape
into the forest invoking the vengeance of his voodoo gods. Henriette
Bonde-Hansen radiantly sings Palmyra’s aria as she anticipates her imminent
nuptials and later at her immediate pre-wedding celebration as she sings
and dances to one of Delius’s most famous melodies, ‘La Calinda’, as
arranged by Bo Holten. Reuter is more impressive as Koanga
,
dignified and wrathfully vengeful.
Another fine addition to Holten’s growing Delius discography. Holten’s
Appalachia is glorious but I have some minor reservations about
Sea Drift.
Ian Lace
Bo Holten’s Delius series for Danacord:
DACOCD
536 Danish Masterworks
DACOCD
592 Norwegian Masterworks
DACOCD
721 English Masterworks
DACOCD
728 French Masterworks
DACOCD
717 Rare historic recordings
