Gunnar Johansen (1906-1991)
Danish Folk Song (1928)
Lullaby for Lorraine (1943)
Sonata III (1943)
Twelve Etudes Plus One (1977): Etude #1, Etude #4
Catenaria #1 (1968)
Sonata XXIII (Trilogie der Leidenschaft) (1949)
The Lullaby My Mother Sang (1936)
Solon Pierce (piano)
rec. 2020, Weber Hall, University of Minnesota-Duluth, USA
DANACORD DACOCD908 [68]
Some headlines: Gunnar Johansen was born in Copenhagen, moved to the United States in 1929, and may now be best recalled as a consummate pianist in the concert hall and the recording studio. He also composed a lot, including 31 piano sonatas, three piano concertos, a set of orchestral variations and a deal chamber music. One of Johansen’s innovations was what he called the “improvised sonata” recorded in his home studio – more than 500 examples. He died in Madison, Wisconsin on 25 May 1991. Sadly, neither the liner notes nor reference material give much idea of what his music sounds like. Yes, there are obvious influences from Scriabin and Busoni, and even some American “popular” pianism. But the reality is that I find his aesthetic hard to pin down. Elvis Presley, asked who he sounded like, famously replied “I don’t sound like no-one”. This applies to the present composer.
I explored the shorter pieces first. The Danish Folk Song was finished before Johansen emigrated to the States. The liner notes explain that it is a combination of two folk tunes, In the deep still quiet of the forest and I went out on a summer day. This is hardly a potboiler, but there is something captivating about the work’s progress. It is difficult to say what it sounds like: Grieg perhaps?
Lullaby for Lorraine was dedicated to Johansen’s new bride. There is a deep-felt lyricism about this wistful music which seems sometimes to cross the boundary between classical and popular. Another example of this songfulness is The Lullaby my mother sang. I hear nods to a style that would be developed by the American jazz pianist Bill Evans in the 1950s.
Two distinctive studies from Twelve Etudes Plus One are relatively late in Johansen’s career. The first is full of rippling figurations and intricate pianism: a lovely piece, impressionistic in mood. The other Etude here is a ghostly reincarnation of Busoni, with a more modern bite to the rarefied harmonies and part writing.
Catenaria #1 seems to be a concatenation of the Latin word for “chain” and the word “aria”. The booklet suggests a “catenary curve somewhere out in space”. It is actually nearer to earth with its bitter-sweet harmonies.
Sonata III is (probably) the longest notated work that Johansen wrote for the instrument; he used Roman numerals for his un-improvised Sonatas. There are four somewhat introspective movements: Imperiosamente: molto deciso, Fugare: Quieto, Passacaglia: Andante semplice and finally Ricantazione: Coda (Tragico, Tenebrae). The last movement reprises material from the latter half of the Imperiosamente, thus giving the work cyclic structure.
The overall mood of this sonata reflects that it was a wartime composition. There is some problem with its genesis. The liner notes explain that the third movement, a long Passacaglia, was originally a standalone work from 1940. This was an educational piece designed to “illustrate the development of harmony and counterpoint from Gregorian chant to the modern era”. To further muddy the waters, the entire Sonata III was originally part of a massive 75-minute work for women’s chorus, winds and piano, East-West Cantata from 1943. There are many interesting moments in this long Sonata. On the downside, there are moments when the pianist could almost be accused of doodling at the keyboard (not his fault); does that result from Johansen’s penchant for improvisation?
If ever a programme note is required, the Sonata XXIII desperately needs it. Written for the bicentennial of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s birth in 1949, it takes as its starting point the poet’s tripartite poem, Trilogie der Leidenschaft. This cheery little verse depicts Goethe’s “disastrous experience of a love affair and unsuccessful marriage proposal to a woman over 50 years his junior”. The three movements carry titles: An Werther (To Werther), Elegise, and Aussöhnung (Reconciliation). As the liner notes explain, the first recalls Goethe’s early novel, The Sorrows of the Young Werther, the second a spa town in Bohemia where the action of the poem was set, and finally, the reaching of “a divine redemption of atonement”. Some key quotes from the poem are inserted into the score.
I am not sure how helpful this is to the appreciation of this remarkable sonata. Stylistically, it sits at the apex of three pillars: atonality, tonality and a sense of controlled improvisation. I enjoyed this work when I more or less junked the programme. For me it is simply a journey from pessimism to a degree of optimism, via several troubled moments. At several points in the proceedings I was reminded of Kaikhosru Shapurji Sorabji…
Even a superficial perusal of this CD reveals a soloist who is clearly smitten by Gunnar Johansen’s music. The playing sounds superb, with much light and shade, and with firm technical skills. The excellent recording certainly helps this repertoire to come to life. There are no other recordings of most of this collection to compare Solon Pierce with.
Pierce’s detailed liner notes are exemplary. They include an introduction to the composer, helpful notes about each work and a short bio of the soloist. The booklet is enhanced by several illustrations, featuring concert programmes, record adverts, newspaper reviews and a lovely photo of Gunnar and his wife, Lorraine, at their home in Blue Mounds, Wisconsin.
This is an interesting exploration of Gunnar Johansen’s piano music. He has been largely ignored by the concert and recording businesses. I like most of these compositions, and find them interesting and satisfying. The trouble is I (and possibly other listeners) have no reference markers for this repertoire. Johansen’s compositions have passed me by over the last 50-odd years of listening and concertizing. It remains to be seen to what extent Solon Pierce’s Danacord recording is the start of a project to recover this absorbing music.
John France
