Like the discs of chamber
music and concertos I
reviewed recently, Benjamin Frankel's symphonies, as evidenced by these
issues, represent a highly significant and important part of his output.
They stand as a testament to both his artistic integrity and his commitment
to melody whilst working within the constraints of his own highly personal
interpretation of serial techniques. It is also worth noting that the
first one was only completed when he was in his early fifties so they
clearly represent his mature, fully-formed voice.
Probably the best disc to start with is the one coupling
the second and third symphonies (CPO 999 240 - 2). It was awarded a
rosette in the Penguin Guide and, as well as the idiomatic performances
themselves, features helpful archive recordings of the composer introducing
them (obviously the symphonies rather than these actual recordings).
The second, of 1962, is cast in three movements and ends, as is quite
often the case in Frankel, with a slow movement. Like the opening movement,
it is marked Adagio, the two being separated by a Scherzo-like
Alla marcia. Frankel used quotations from Wordsworth ("Dust as
we are…." etc.) as a "guide to the emotional atmosphere of the music"
(he actually reads them in the first of the archive recordings). The
work as a whole has an impressive stylistic unity being based on a twelve
note row introduced very early in the first movement. This lengthy movement
builds to an impressive climax before subsiding back to the atmosphere
of its opening. The middle movement is more aggressive, slightly sinister
in places, and includes, in the percussion section, the sound of "the
dropping of chains on a wooden box"! After this shorter but more explosive
section, the final movement is more meditative, an extended Adagio
which contemplates various facets of the aforementioned note row, often
through the solo voices of strings and woodwind. After this profound
utterance (unsurprising in that it was dedicated to the memory of his
late wife Anna), the third symphony, written two years later, comes
across as a somewhat lighter conception. It is much shorter and is written
as a single movement. It opens with a fairly restrained but tuneful
fanfare and develops into a piece of truly melodic and, later, rhythmic
invention, perhaps turning many conceptions of what serialism is on
its head. It actually reminds me in places of late Sibelius or Roy Harris,
in others of Stravinsky. Frankel is certainly not out of place in such
exalted company.
The first symphony of 1958 is coupled with the fifth
of nine years later. This disc also includes the earlier overture May
Day which is a delightful piece, managing to combine echoes of both
Beethoven and jazz, among other influences, without ever seeming incongruous.
It was described as a "panorama" by Frankel and it is easy to see why,
all human (musical) life seems to be here. Both symphonies are three
movement affairs - the first being another example of one with a slow
final movement (Lento), and also having the distinction of being
Frankel's first truly serial work. It begins lyrically and is quick
to reveal the composer's mastery of symphonic writing. The movement
is constructed in a loosely palindromic style so once we enter its second
half, on the other side of a central "point of rest", the note row from
the opening appears in reverse order. The two versions are finally resolved
as the movement ends. The second movement is also quite lyrical and
melodic but in a rumbustious melodic way. Comparisons here, with some
of Walton's (or even Arnold's!) comedy overtures are apt. The final
movement starts off in valedictory but understated mood, an elegiac
trumpet, playing alone and then with clarinet, is then joined by the
orchestra creating a slightly unsettling, crepuscular atmosphere. The
subtitle Vigil seems highly appropriate for that is indeed what
it resembles the soundtrack to - echoes here maybe of Frankel's parallel
career as film composer. The fifth symphony's first movement is as warm
as the first's final one is chilly. The composer himself described it
as "essentially lyrical … the underlying feeling is pastoral with the
atmosphere romantic in sentiment", Don't expect Vaughan Williams, well
at least not the VW of symphonies three or five, but this is some of
Frankel's most overtly positive and emotional music. It is still bristling
with energy but the booklet notes also rightly mention the almost Mahlerian
mood, especially noticeable perhaps, in the closing passage. The Scherzo
is marked Grazioso and is certainly a movement of some delicacy
and melodic charm. Quite folksy even, if that doesn't require too vivid
an imagination in the context of a serial piece. The final movement
is unusual among Frankel's in that it is both faster and more positive
and extrovert than is normal for him. It seems like very much a kindred
spirit to the first symphony's scherzo and provides a fine end to a
symphony that once again proves beyond doubt that tonality, melody and
serialism can not only coexist happily but actually work together to
very positive ends.
The last disc containing the seventh and eighth symphonies
begins on a very genial note with the Overture to a Ceremony,
commissioned for the 1970 St. Cecilia's Day Royal Concert. It is an
infectious, witty but also lyrical piece, incorporating numerous references
to God Save the Queen and generally succeeding in its intended
purpose, i.e. to entertain. The other short work on the disc is A
Shakespeare Overture, first performed in 1956 and, perhaps surprisingly
to the uninitiated, dedicated to Gerald Finzi. It turns out that the
two composers were actually close friends although obviously their muses
were acted out rather differently. It is, however, perhaps as close
as Frankel got to being inspired by Elizabethan idioms and the piece
does share some stylistic features with Walton's Shakespearean music.
The overture is also notable for being the last pre-serial orchestral
composition. Whatever, it is, as usual, beautifully put together and
by no means as slight as the title might suggest. In his very useful
notes (reprinted from the programme of its 1970 premiere), the composer
tells us that the score of the seventh symphony is prefaced by the following
words from Marlowe "That time may cease and midnight never come" and
ended with "The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike".
This gives a fair idea of what the symphony is about. It begins quite
quietly but as it progresses the orchestral climaxes become rather more
frequent until, in the last minute of its six, it returns to the reflective
feel of its opening. The second (Allegretto, Piacevole) is described
by Frankel with words like "contemplative" and "tender" but also "hypnotic"
which all fit with the feel of its opening and closing pages, either
side of the more aggressive central section. The third movement interpolates
some martial percussive elements with more gentle woodwind passages
and is without a doubt possessed of some beautifully melodic material.
The final movement is more serious, solemn even, ending on an explosive,
percussive note.
The eighth symphony, following in the wake of a period
of much ill-health, opens in what is, for Frankel, a quite rhapsodic
mood. It is important to state that the lyricism that characterises
most of his work would not normally attract that description. Percussion
soon enters to accelerate the momentum although the underlying mood
remains contemplative. The second movement waltzes along, at times at
breakneck speed, with the tuba putting in an unusual appearance. The
third movement carries the subtitle Reflections on a Christmas Eve,
and unsurprisingly, but without resorting to cliché, it is opened
by chiming bells. Its whole atmosphere is one of "solemn and tender
beauty", to quote Buxton Orr's notes, and one is reminded, if not musically
then at least in the common inspiration, of Finzi's masterpiece In
Terra Pax. The final movement echoes that of the fifth symphony
in its positivism, forward momentum and inherent tunefulness. A great
pity that this represented Frankel's last published effort in the form,
as he died not much more than a year after its premiere.
On the whole, then, it seems shameful that it has taken
this long for such an important body of work to reach the recording
studio. Werner Andreas Albert and the Queensland Symphony Orchestra,
not forgetting the CPO and ABC technical staff, have done Frankel proud
at last. Everything from the cover art to the exemplary notes of Buxton
Orr and E.D. Kennaway (including numerous musical examples) is beautifully
conceived and executed.
A final plea then, if serialism is a closed book to
you then try to hear at least one of these discs and then decide if
such a "black and white" viewpoint still holds or remains useful. Happy
and interesting listening.
Incidentally, these discs are now available as part
of the complete symphonies box set at a very reasonable price. I shall
hopefully be reviewing the remaining issues in CPO's Frankel series
in the near future.
Neil Horner
See also review
by Rob Barnett
Benjamin Frankel website
Queensland Symphony Orchestra/Werner
Andreas Albert 