Mario PILATI (1903-1938)
Preludio, Aria e Tarantella (1932) [15:17]
Four Italian Folksongs for Small Orchestra (1931) [9:06]
Bagatelles for Chamber Orchestra (1933) [17:34]
Divertimento for Brass Ensemble (1932) [10:34]
Vadim Davydov (piccolo), Aleksandr Kosolov (oboe), Aleksandr Posikera (bassoon), Eliena Alekseyeva (piano)
Moscow Symphony Orchestra/Adriano
rec. 2007/2008, Mosfilm Studios, Moscow, Russia
NAXOS 8.574168 [52:43]
Something about this disc of works from the 1930s stirred a memory. A quick MWI search and I was led to an Inedita label review from 2011 by Ian Lace;
I wish we heard more from him. As for Pilati more generally, there are reviews of discs of his other more substantial orchestral works and of his Piano Quintet, as well as a Brilliant anthology of his chamber music.
Pilati’s music still struggles to keep its face above the engulfing waves. For a start, he is an Italian who had the gall to try to establish himself in an area other than opera. He embraced a language that was melodic rather than atonal; a sweet savour rather than a vinegary one. His music is light-infused. It’s more Ravel and Ibert in its surface and substance and an imaginative tonal delight drives it forward. The music has about it a flightiness that can be discerned even in its more pensive moments.
The Preludio, Aria e Tarantella is written for entertainment. It reminded me a little of two non-Italian orchestral works: Moeran’s Sinfonietta and Barber’s Souvenirs. The Tarantella finale is vigorous and the whole is saturated in reminiscences of Italian folksongs. Speaking of which the Four Italian Folksongs are eager, sentimental and bright-eyed. The second of these diminutive Canzoni has a Neapolitan spirit - a Pavarotti or a Carreras moment. The third is almost immobile under the blaze of a Mediterranean afternoon sun. The five Bagatelles combine charm with a toy soldier’s winking impudence; a step away from Kodaly’s Háry János and Prokofiev’s Winter Bonfire. The second Bagatelle features a delicate piano among the pleasingly drowsy textures. There’s the expected humour from the bassoon in the third. After this an ascended steely waltz is without Rosenkavalier’s fruity swooping caprice; a charm all of its own. The Folksongs are for chamber orchestra whereas the first tripartite work is for full orchestra. It paves the way for a finale that takes us back to the Tarantella of the first work. The four-movement Divertimento is for brass ensemble - a merry-go-round which has taken a dash of Stravinsky’s Pulcinella in the first and third movements. A gentler hand has shaped the moving second ‘panel’. The disc ends with circus pomp complete with bright trumpet and no end of lumbering elephants and strutting camels.
The music is really glowingly recorded. The orchestra (which turns its collective hands to all sorts and conditions of music) may have been unfamiliar with the music but, guided by Adriano, betrays no clumsiness. The indispensable notes are in English and Italian and are by Dario Candela and Giuseppe Carotenuto.
I’ll pirate Ian’s summation from 2011. I could hardly better it: “Adriano conducts these little gems with unbridled enthusiasm. … A thoroughly delightful, light-hearted collection”.
Rob Barnett
