Toru TAKEMITSU (1930-1996)
Rain Coming for chamber orchestra (1982)
Archipelago S for 21 players (1993)
Fantasma/Cantos 2 for trombone and orchestra (1994)
Requiem for strings (1957)
How slow the Wind for orchestra (1991)
Tree Line for chamber orchestra
(1988)
Christian Lindberg,
trombone
Kioi Sinfonietta conducted by Tadaaki Otaka
Recorded February 2000 in the Kioi Hall, Tokyo,
Japan.
BIS BIS-CD-1078 DDD
[71:39]
Crotchet AmazonUK
AmazonUS
Since Toru Takemitsu passed away in 1996 a steady stream of recordings has
been released, several of which have met with considerable acclaim. This
disc has added interest by virtue of its combination of Japanese orchestra
with Japanese conductor, and it makes for fascinating listening.
My initial reaction, after first hearing the disc, was to rush to the CD
cabinet for the 1998 London Sinfonietta recording (Deutsche Grammophon 20/21
453 495-2) which features two works common to both discs, Archipelago
S and How Slow The Wind. In the case of the DG the conductor is
Oliver Knussen and there can be few people around who know Takemitsu's music
as well as he. As always, his performances are painstakingly prepared and
warmly recorded. What also struck me immediately was that Knussen's free-flowing
tempos shave well over a minute off Otaka's more relaxed approach to the
metronome markings. Otaka, however, brings to the surface the crystalline
beauty of Takemitsu's wonderfully transparent scoring, immaculately conceived
and constructed in the manner of his beloved Japanese gardens and in contrast
with Knussen's darker hued readings.
Archipelago S is particularly effective in this respect, being
Takemitsu's response, on several levels, to the beauty of the archipelago
of Stockholm, Seattle and the islands of the Seto Inland Sea of Japan. The
work is antiphonal in its conception, with two mixed ensembles that face
each other, a brass quintet and two clarinets that are placed behind the
audience on either side. The five "islands" call out to each other throughout
the work, completing phrases and answering each other from a distance and
although the true spatial effects of the scoring are lost in a recording
such as this the unusual orchestration is still highly effective. There are
some ravishing sounds here and subtle effects in abundance, the players clearly
enjoying the unique beauty of Takemitsu's sound world.
How slow the Wind was inspired by the verse of Emily Dickinson,
"How slow the wind, how slow the sea, how late their feathers be!" It is
a work imbued with a subtle sense of awe, a journey through darkness to light
("a milk white light in the midst of darkness") as the composer put it, the
gently changing procession, in which Takemitsu's basic melodic material is
always clearly audible, finally transforming itself quite magically into
a D flat major chord at the very end. The closing couple of minutes, in
particular, are wonderfully played with fine attention to the myriad detail
in the composer's intricate and delicate scoring.
Of the two other works for chamber orchestra, Tree Line and
Rain Coming, both hail from the 1980s. Rain Coming is
the earlier of the two and is one of several related pieces from around the
same time each concerning rain. The working of the harmonic and melodic material
here is more concentrated than in the later works on the disc but the
characteristic and very personal language is the same. Tree Line
takes its title from a row of acacia trees that lined the slopes near
the composer's workshop, trees being another common thread running through
several of his works. Melodically, listeners will notice that there are links
between Tree Line and How Slow the Wind, of three years later,
another Takemitsu trait. This is also one of the most evocatively explicit
of his nature pictures, the sounds of his environment evident throughout
the piece, from the rustling of the leaves to the birdsong which was no doubt
audible as he composed.
Fantasma/Cantos 2 was one of Takemitsu's last compositions
and takes the form of a lyrical concerto for solo trombone. A little over
sixteen minutes in length, the work is possibly inspired in part by the
composer's reminiscences of hearing Jack Teagarden in his youth although
these influences are thoughtfully distilled into his own familiar language.
Takemitsu was terminally ill by this time yet this work comes across as one
of his lighter expressions, the central cadenza for the soloist particularly
effective in its use of wide-ranging effects. As always Christian Lindberg's
performance is of a high standard technically if a little detached emotionally.
By contrast the Requiem for strings which follows stems from
1957, early in Takemitsu's career. This is a work of moving pathos for one
so young (Takemitsu was twenty-six at the time of its composition) but as
the booklet notes point out he had already experienced serious illness. In
its solemnity the piece seems to point to the fragility of not just the composer
but of life itself. The performance here is equally deeply felt.
At over seventy-one minutes playing time this is a generously filled disc
that gives an excellent overview of Takemitsu's considerable output for chamber
orchestra. His profoundly personal and largely contemplative language is
such that listening in one sitting demands considerable concentration but
Tadaaki Otaka draws finely wrought performances from his young orchestra
(founded in 1995) which demonstrate admirable clarity and sensitivity to
the intricacies of Takemitsu's sound painting.
Christopher Thomas
