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Hendrik ANDRIESSEN (1892-1981)
Complete Symphonic Works
Phion Orchestra of Gelderland & Overijssel/David Porcelijn
rec 2011-2014, Muziekcentrum Enschede, Netherlands
CPO 555 508-2 [4 CDs: 226:34]

Some 45 years ago, opportunities for excitement for us choristers in our sleepy Pennine village church where choir members outnumbered congregation by a ratio of about ten to one (most Sundays that is; Easter, Whitsun and Christmas were exceptions) were few and far between. Certain key figures linked to the church would occasionally take matters into their own hands and flout the beige conventions. I vividly recall a particularly devout young curate (of, let’s say, rather traditionalist leanings) deliver a sermon promoting the old ways; his impassioned defence of the King James Version built towards a truly shocking denouement, whereby he picked up a copy of the ‘Good News Bible’ (a text which was becoming increasingly popular at the time) from the pulpit, raised it aloft theatrically, and spat out the phrase ‘This is the Word of the Devil!!’ before hurling it in a single, defiant movement across the nave. Repercussions were swift. The congregation (a pair of elderly ladies) were clearly nonplussed by this act because we never saw him again, and none of the choir would have dared to have reported the incident to the vicar for fear of ‘rocking the boat’. Let me assure readers that this event is no invention; it fashioned a ‘flashbulb’ memory which will accompany me to the grave.

Nor was the ire of this particular cleric directed exclusively towards trendy updates of Christian texts. Our long-suffering organist and choirmaster was a talented individual who used to take advantage of the meagre attendances (and their collective antipathy towards music of any kind) by trying out any contemporary organ work he could get his feet and fingers around. I remember turning up to practice one night to hear the curate admonishing the poor fellow thus: “Wesley….YES!! Handel….YES!!! Bach….YES!!! (dramatic pause) MESS -EYE-EN….NO!!!!!” before stomping red-faced and furious down the steps from the organ loft and storming out of the church. There was one marvellous organ piece he used to play regularly, cleverly taking advantage of its theme and variation structure to experiment with the most daring registrations our decrepit instrument would allow. It turned out to be Hendrik Andriessen’s Sonata di Chiesa, which the organist had heard many years before during a visit to Utrecht Cathedral. He bought the sheet music on that same visit to Holland, and it ended up providing the soundtrack to my time in this choir.

Thus did my interest in this much underrated Dutch composer commence; he was practically unknown in the UK at the time. Many decades later his younger son Louis (who passed away earlier this year) would achieve a level of international stature which would surely have made his father very proud. This most desirable box from CPO brings together four single discs issued individually over recent years, each containing one of Hendrik Andriessen’s four symphonies accompanied by a selection of other orchestral works. None of this music is unsubstantial, all of it is very fine. Andriessen’s grasp of harmony, form and colour is exceptional; I suspect he had a very rigorous quality control procedure.

The four symphonies span the first half of the composer’s career and emerged at roughly equal intervals. The first, completed in 1930, is at thirteen minutes an unusually concise distillation of sketches which Andriessen drew up throughout the previous decade. It incorporates a three movement fast-slow-fast design within a continuous span, although a puckish scherzo is embedded within the central panel. Its pensive opening seems to contain the seeds of all that follows; if the quicker music seems neo-classical in pace, its melodic and harmonic content projects a more serious tone (Rousselian rather than Stravinskian, perhaps) than that descriptor might imply. This is a superb work in which not a note, colour or gesture is miscalculated. David Porcelijn absolutely has the measure of its shape and seriousness. It amounts to far more than the sum of its parts.

Its successor was composed in 1937 to mark the 50^th anniversary of the Concertgebouw and is dedicated to Eduard van Beinum, who conducted that orchestra at its premiere the following year. Andriessen retained a tripartite plan for this second symphony but here each movement embodies a discrete form (Fantasia, Pavane, Rondo), although the composer’s economy of means remains mightily impressive and this tautly cogent utterance is done and dusted within nineteen fascinating minutes. The tight harmony and sinuous melodic writing at the outset of the Fantasia is markedly different from the language of the first symphony; Leo Samama suggests that Andriessen’s Parisian adventures during the twenties impacted upon the bitonality which flavours this music, but I hear something more akin to the style of Willem Pijper’s second and third symphony in its sheer sound. In any case the central Pavane is more diatonic and rhythmically predictable until some unusual syncopations towards its conclusion. Andriessen’s writing for woodwind is wonderfully variegated in this movement. The Rondo finale returns to the mysterious, occasionally ominous atmosphere of the first movement; Andriessen handles his material with tremendous confidence and elan. One cannot be anything but impressed by this composers absolutely non-tokenistic deployment of saxophones; they appear in beautifully judged cameos at key points in this terrific work. By now it becomes apparent that Porcelijn’s accounts of these symphonies are far superior in every way to their comparatively workmanlike (and rather dated) counterparts on Etcetera (review), not least in terms of CPO’s warm and detailed sonics.

Andriessen was detained for a six month period during 1942 by the occupying Nazi forces for his non co-operation but was still able to continue in his professional roles; he picked up the thread of his symphonic cycle following the war’s conclusion with his third symphony in 1946, The opening bars of this elegant four movement work briefly suggest something more affirmative in spirit than its predecessors, though this is qualified by some terse reminders of what has passed, with modal inflections which aren’t a million miles from the music Ralph Vaughan Williams was writing at the time. Andriessen seems to be alluding to a period of emotional re-grouping in this Ouverture, paving the way for the positive spirit to truly begin in the motoric Sonata second movement. Once again this composer’s fastidious craftsmanship is on show in every bar – in my view this is an omnipresent quality in all his music. The emotional core of the symphony is in a haunting, nostalgic third movement Sarabande which projects hints of the distant past by referring to baroque patternings and intermittent brass fanfares, all underpinned by an uneasy gravity which is powerfully affecting. The stylistic and emotional questions posed by these three movements are resolved in a concise Fuga finale which is simultaneously gritty, architecturally ingenious and deeply satisfying for the listener. David Porcelijn leads an account which is invigorating and engaged, the antithesis of a routine run-through.

By the time of his fourth symphony of 1954, in keeping with contemporaries such as Frank Martin, Andriessen felt it his solemn duty as a composer to try to derive some constructive application from the dodecaphony which was still influential in at that point, although like Martin he rejected outright its implied emotional coldness. At 25 minutes his final attempt at the form was his most extended although he reverted to his earlier preference for a three movement structure. The first of these (marked Molto grave e energico) is equal in length to the other two combined and the austere string idea with which it opens conveys something of a Martin-like arc and essence. The energico element kicks in after a couple of minutes, its propulsiveness occasionally checked by briefer episodes of grace and lightness. This serious minded and formally invincible music surely merits greater recognition than it has thus far achieved; it is at least the equal of, for example, Honegger’s contemporaneous fifth symphony in the precision of its development and the urgency of its utterance. There is a wonderful moment at 8:30 when the music slows suddenly and the night seems to draw in. Reference is made to the opening material before the propulsive music returns. The central Andante sostenuto oscillates between a gentle twilit glow and agreeably restless material, carried on its way by yet more colourful writing for woodwind – Andriessen was truly a master in this regard. The concluding Allegro vivace is driven by an angular idea which is defiantly Honeggerian; at its centre balm is provided by a winsome flute melody which is fleshed out by the rest of the woodwind; an ominous drum-roll restores the breathless astringency of the opening which persists until the symphony’s abrupt conclusion.

The performances of these four terrific works are the best I have heard via either broadcast or CD to date. David Porcelijn has a convincing vision in each case; the orchestra now known as Phion, Orchestra of Gelderland & Overijssel (it was formerly the Netherlands Symphony Orchestra and briefly the HET Symfonieorkest prior to its merger in 2019 with the Arnhem Philharmonic) execute with precision and heartfelt commitment. The CPO recordings are spacious and detailed, pitched ideally in enabling one to properly immerse one’s self in the economy and coherence of Andriessen’s writing. There are countless symphonic cycles on this label devoted to twentieth century European composers whose works have been absent from concert halls for decades. I would suggest very few of these are as consistently compelling as Hendrik Andriessen’s.

Nor are these works the only reason to buy this set. All of the composer’s remaining works for orchestra alone are spread amongst the four discs; these are equally convincing in themselves – ‘filler’ is utterly conspicuous by its absence. The couplings range from the masterly Kuhnau Variations of 1935 (I suspect this might be Andriessen’s most frequently performed and recorded orchestral work), by way of the enigmatic Ricercare (1949), the rhapsodies Wihelmus van Nassouwe (1950) - a delightful work which incorporates the Dutch national anthem and Libertas venit (1954), to his final work for purely orchestral forces, the overture Chantecler (after Rostand’s play) from 1972. Perhaps the most impressive (and certainly the most ‘unbuttoned’) work of all is the technicolour four movement Mascherata of 1962, an exuberant suite which requires an uncharacteristically large orchestra. As I have dealt rather briefly with these pieces (and completely ignored some others) I am happy to provide the links to the MWI reviews which appeared after the release of each of the individual discs which the current set comprises: they are Volumes 1 and 2; Volume 3 and Volume 4. I am happy to reinforce my fellow reviewers’ considerable enthusiasm for the entire enterprise. In my view the box is up there, with the CPO collections devoted to Aulis Sallinen and Benjamin Frankel in terms of the consistent quality on offer.

I will conclude by pointing out that the set does not include any of Andriessen’s extensive (and equally accomplished) concertante output. A fine (and inexpensive) Brilliant Classics twofer released earlier in 2021 (96015) includes much of this in a compilation of recordings previously released during the 1990s on the Dutch NM Classics label. At the price point I might suggest it’s something of a no-brainer to invest in this as an accompaniment to the CPO box. An opportunity perhaps to make use of those vouchers your Auntie from Wrexham sent for Christmas and which might otherwise end up going past their expiry date.

Richard Hanlon

Contents
 
Disc One [56:45]
Symphony No.1 (1930) [13:25]
Ballet Suite (1947) [19:23]
Symphonic Etude (1952) [10:46]
Kuhnau Variations (1935) [12:39]
rec July 2011

Disc Two [60:33]
Symphony No.2 (1937) [18:43]
Ricercare (1949) [9:51]
Mascherata (1962) [22:00]
Wilhelmus van Nassouwe (1950) [9:53]
rec June 2012 (Symphony No 2) and February 2013 (other works)
 
Disc Three [52:57]
Symphony No.3 (1946) [24:54]
Symphonie Concertante (1962) [21:41]
Overture Chantecler (1972) [6:17]
rec June 2012

Disc Four [56:19]
Symphony No. 4 (1954) [25:21]
Rhapsodie - Libertas Venit (1954) [16:08]
Capriccio (1941) [10:02]
Canzone (1971) [4:43]
rec February 2013 and June 2014