The conductor Adriano has built up a fine reputation 
          for discovering (or re-discovering) opulent and colourful Late Romantic 
          music and for his well-received Marco Polo film music albums - particularly 
          those devoted to Georges Auric. This new release of music by the forgotten 
          French composer Ernest Fanelli, whose patron was Pierné, would 
          seem to straddle both genres. Not only does this effulgent material 
          anticipate Respighi, Richard Strauss and Debussy (to mention just three 
          composers) but it also points the way to the film music of the mid-20th 
          Century - particularly that of Bernard Herrmann. Fanelli was regarded 
          by many as too avant-garde. Listen to this music composed in 1883/6 
          (although not premiered until 1912, just one year before Stravinsky's 
          Sacre du Printemps) and you will immediately hear why. As Adriano 
          comments in his learned booklet notes: 
        
 
        
"Already in 1883 Fanelli uses whole-tone scales, intervals 
          of a ninth and picturesque harmonic and instrumental effects which later 
          became trademarks of the Impressionists. Polytonality, uneven metres, 
          unmodulated changes of harmonies, free ornamentation, the use of augmented 
          triads and an overall non-relation to basic tonality can be found in 
          Tableaux Symphoniques, perhaps the first example in French music history 
          in which sound and instrumental colour become principal means of musical 
          expression and in which a composer dares to transpose his purely sensorial 
          impressions and detaches himself from absolute music and traditional 
          romantic tone-painting." 
        
 
        
Fanelli's Tableaux symphoniques d'après ‘Le 
          Roman de la Momi’, to give the work its proper French name, is presented 
          here in two parts each with three movements. Briefly it concerns the 
          fate of Tahoser an Egyptian girl who has fallen in love with Poëri 
          a handsome young Hebrew. Ramses II the mighty Pharaoh is attracted to 
          her too and resolves to have her at all costs. When Tahoser discovers 
          that Poëri is in love with another woman, she languishes and becomes 
          ill. She is healed by the mysterious prophet Moses who initiates her 
          into the cult of Jehovah. Ramses manages to abduct Tahoser and becomes 
          an enemy of the Jews leading to the oft-told events of the plagues, 
          the exile and the parting of the Red Sea. Tahoser is crowned Queen of 
          Egypt and discovered in Pharaoh's tomb by a 19th century archaeologist 
          who falls in love with her mummy. 
        
 
        
Part I entitled Thèbes is in three movements 
          (tableaux). The sultriness of the first tableau, suggesting the stifling 
          heat of the streets of Thebes, impressed Ravel. The plaintive voice 
          of a female slave (mezzo-soprano Lydia Drahosova) accompanied by two 
          harps and tambourines, played behind the orchestra, was something of 
          a novelty at the time. The second tableau is set on the banks of the 
          Nile where preparations are afoot for the victorious return of the Pharaoh. 
          The music turns from busy chatter to languorous sighing as Tahoser catches 
          sight of the handsome young Poëri. The music here, nervous, edgy 
          and full of yearning, underpinned by heavy ominous bass drum rolls, 
          sounds incredibly like a Bernard Herrmann Hitchcock score. The final 
          tableau of Part I depicts the triumphant procession of Ramses and anticipates 
          Debussy's Images and, uncannily, the crescendo of approaching 
          legions along the Appian Way in Respighi's Pines of Rome, although 
          the atmosphere is undeniably Egyptian. The orchestral forces unleashed 
          here are mighty indeed and it is advisable that you ensure the neighbours 
          are out! This crushing march with huge repeated gong crashes and heavy 
          bass drum rolls, like the tread of giant elephants, is only softened 
          momentarily as Pharaoh espies Tahoser in the crowd. Again the music's 
          cell-like patterns and extraordinary colourful orchestration suggest 
          Bernard Herrmann. I have to warn that this movement tends to rather 
          overstay its welcome and afterwards you could well be reaching for the 
          Paracetamol. 
        
 
        
Part II is again divided into three tableaux. Inside 
          Pharaoh's palace Ramses is massaged by his slaves and entertained by 
          naked girl jugglers. Not surprisingly, the music is exotic and sinuously 
          sensuous. The second tableau is an extension of the scene with grotesque 
          jesters joining in. The music is reminiscent of Rimsky-Korsakov but 
          more often it is as advanced as Bartók or Stravinsky. At various 
          times during these two movements I was reminded of several film music 
          ideas: Ron Goodwin's Ascent/Descent of the Cable Car from Where 
          Eagles Dare, the morse-code type motif used for by RKO-Radio for 
          its radio mast and globe logo - and Bernard Herrmann's North by Northwest 
          and Vertigo music, for instance. The growing passionate frenzy 
          of the final tableau Chants triomphaux - Orgie is beheld with 
          growing indifference as Pharaoh becomes more and more infatuated with 
          Tahoser. He learns that she is the daughter of a high priest. The ladies 
          of his court are racked by jealousy. The music here is majestic, decadent 
          and ambiguously menacing and very avant-garde. 
        
 
        
Louis-Albert Bourgault-Ducoudray's Rhapsodie 
          cambodgienne of 1882 is much more of its time with straightforward 
          melodies and harmonies. It is cast in two colourful nine-minute movements 
          that incorporate Cambodian melodies and suggest the music of Balakirev 
          or Rimsky-Korsakov. The opening movement commences in pastoral vein 
          and then reaps the whirlwind as the Gods of Earth and Water combat to 
          re-establish the land's fertility. The second part is devoted to bombastic 
          celebratory music. 
        
 
        
Vivid Technicolor music incredibly advanced for its 
          day anticipating not only Respighi, Debussy, Bartók and Stravinsky, 
          but film music of the mid-20th century - especially that of Bernard 
          Herrmann. It might, at times, overstay its welcome but it is played 
          with such vivacity and enthusiasm that serious criticism is disarmed. 
          Great fun - but make sure the neighbours are out this is heavy-weight 
          stuff. 
        
 
        
        
Ian Lace