Britta Byström, now in her mid-thirties, has since the turn of the
millennium chiselled out a very distinctive niche in the music life of
Sweden and beyond. Her compositions have been played quite extensively in
Sweden and also internationally. Although she has written music in most
genres it is her orchestral works that have reached the widest audiences and
it seems that the orchestra that has become her instrument. She is quoted in
the liner-notes as saying that her work
Barcarole (2000) was the
first one in which she experienced the orchestra as an instrument obeying
her wishes. This is a fact that has been observed by others as well,
including my colleague on MusicWeb International, Hubert Culot, who wrote
in a review of
an earlier recording “…Britta Byström has a real orchestral flair and
has succeeded in creating a sound-world all of her own." Her credo is
expressed on her
website: “I try to create poetic and beautiful music,
which can tempt the listener into an aesthetic experience.” She also talks
about “… a certain kind of orchestral virtuosity that fascinates me … the
sort of thing you find in Claude Debussy and Richard Strauss.” Those two
composers may not be a natural coupling. After all, one is impressionist
while the other is rather the opposite. Add to this that Strauss’s music,
for all its professionalism and virtuosity, is not always in the utmost of
good taste. That said, both composers were musical narrators and that is
certainly an element that Britta Byström shares with them.
All three works on this disc has a story to tell.
Picnic at Hanging
Rock was inspired by Peter Weir’s 1975 film of the same name, which was
based on a novel by Joan Lindsay. It is about a party of schoolgirls on an
outing to Hanging Rock in Australia. Three of the girls disappear without a
trace. Did they disappear into the rock? The composition opens like an
explosion. There are some glissandi and shimmering strings, high flutes but
the music changes kaleidoscopically. A bell strikes, introducing a more
agitated section with fast conversation. There is a part in 3/4-time where
the music sails higher and higher and then relaxes with soft strings and
woodwind. The next session is a kind of pasodoble with a crescendo taking us
to a starry cosmic landscape - very beautiful and there it ends. The
orchestra kind of disappears – like the girls. All that remains is a bird’s
trill.
A Walk after Dark begins where the previous piece finishes. Soon,
when the viola soloist enters, it becomes more lively. There is little
bravura in the solo part – instead Byström explores the instrument’s warm
singing, and Ellen Nisbeth’s big round tone is certainly something to
admire. True, there is also some technical wizardry in the fast central
section but she soon returns to the singing, late-romantic atmosphere.
A
Walk after Dark is dedicated to the memory of Anders Eliasson
(1947–2013) who died while Byström was working on this composition. She once
studied with him and she quotes his first symphony as further homage to one
of the greatest Swedish composer of recent years. This is a worthy tribute
to him: heartfelt and very beautiful.
Again
Invisible Cities has a literary background: Italo Calvino’s
Le cittā invisibili from 1972. In Calvino's novel Marco
Polo, who was Venetian, tells of his travels and the remarkable cities he
has seen, but it turns out that what he describes all the time is his own
city, Venice. The composition is, like the novel, divided in eleven parts
with a piano figure taken from Lutoslawski’s
Venetian Games as a
leitmotif connecting the various parts. More easily recognisable is the
Barcarolle from
Les contes d’Hoffmann that pops in and out
of the work. It is indeed a magical score, often light in texture and
shimmering like the ever-present water in Venice. Quite often I hear
dripping water in this piece. It's fascinating and highly accessible
and should win many new admirers for Britta Byström’s music.
The orchestral playing throughout is utterly accomplished. The recordings
are excellent. Also let me once more apostrophize Ellen Nisbeth’s magical
playing. A winner in every respect.
Göran Forsling
Note: this is currently only available as a download.
