Elliott CARTER (1908–2012)
Ballets:
Pocahontas
(1939)* [30:57]
The Minotaur
(1947) [34:56]
Boston Modern Orchestra Project (BMOP)/Gil Rose
rec. 10 May 2019, Jordan Hall, Boston, MA (Pocahontas); 11 January, 2020,
Jordan Hall (The Minotaur).
* premiere recording
BMOP/SOUND 1077 SACD
[65:54]
Like many American composers of his generation, Elliott Carter studied with
Nadia Boulanger in Paris, returning to his homeland years later an exponent
of the “streamline moderne” neoclassicism which was emerging stateside in
the 1930s; of which his early ballet Pocahontas (paired on this
BMOP Sound disc with The Minotaur, another score preceding his
artistic maturity) was a typical example. The problem was that his older
friend and colleague Aaron Copland had not only pioneered the style in the
United States, he also did it better than anybody else, including Carter.
As if destiny had contrived it so as to cruelly drive the point home, Pocahontas was premiered on the same bill in 1939 as Copland’s Billy the Kid. The latter score became among the most
often-performed and recorded in the American classical canon; the former,
on the other hand, was only recorded complete for the first time on this
disc.
After its premiere, John Martin of the New York Times dumped on Pocahontas for being “modernistic and stuffy” (a statement more
revealing of his reactionary tastes than anything else). In fact, the
“modernism” of Pocahontas is milquetoast and mannered. Throughout
one senses Carter’s discomfort with a style which he had not yet learned to
outgrow, contriving without success at the audience appeal which came
naturally to Copland. He also had yet to develop a distinctive voice of his
own. A lot of the Pocahontas music, especially the “Overture” and
the scene where John Smith is attacked by Indians, sounds like a series of
crib notes from Prokofiev’s Scythian Suite. In the closing dance,
however, a stately pavane depicting Pocahontas’ departure from her
homeland, with its delicate interlacing of voices, offers a glimmer of the
mature master to come.
Its balletic successor, The Minotaur, composed in 1947, represents
a considerable advance in Carter’s style. If John Martin thought the
comparatively mild Pocahontas was disagreeably “modernistic”, The Minotaur would have sent him into conniptions. Although the
score remains conservative, its idiom is starker, more free in its use of
dissonance; its influences now carefully subsumed. The result is not only a
culmination of Carter’s early career, but also a tantalizing springboard
for the stylistic breakthrough soon to be achieved in his Cello Sonata.
Carter’s use of instrumental color, pitting sections against each other
rather than blending them, augurs the play of timbral contrasts heard in
his later orchestral music. While still not a product of Carter’s maturity, The Minotaur finds him wielding his materials with far more
confidence than was previously heard. Its pas de deux—with nervous
rhythms underpinning yearning, melodic back-and-forths between the strings
and winds—was also surely one of the most elegant things Carter had penned
up until that point.
As ever, the Boston Modern Orchestra Project under Gil Rose have set down
performances which are unlikely to be topped, at least any time soon. Their
sense of timing, color, and line are impeccable, as is their commitment to
unjustly neglected American music. Likewise, the sonorous production, with
plenty of air and depth, is a boon. David Schiff’s liner notes are
excellent. The only caveat is the flimsy, cheap digipak with which BMOP
typically packages its offerings. Collectors willing to aid the label’s
cause and pay its premium prices ($19.99) deserve better.
Néstor Castiglione
