Though still in his
late thirties, Bruno Mantovani, who
has a sizeable body of works to his
credit, has consistently drawn much
favourable critical attention. The release
under review, actually the second disc
devoted to his music by the new French
label AEON (I have not heard the first
one [AECD 0208]), offers three fairly
recent works that give a good idea of
his present output. Quite early on in
his composing career, he has been blessed
with commissions from several celebrated
performing artists and various ensembles,
which have provided him with opportunities
to display his virtuosity and technical
mastery. His music, however, is also
immensely lyrical and – most importantly,
I believe – deeply sincere and honest.
The three works here, no doubt, offer
a fairly comprehensive survey of his
recent output. The earliest one, Turbulences
for mixed ensemble of twelve players,
was completed in 1998 and first performed
by Peter Eötvös. True to its
title, it traces an often chaotic journey
from the contrapuntal opening section
to the dream-like, ecstatic concluding
section, through a series of contrasted
episodes, in turn almost static and
wildly energetic.
La Morte Meditata,
a substantial setting of Ungaretti’s
eponymous six-poem cycle for mezzo-soprano
and a small instrumental ensemble à
la Birtwistle (three clarinets,
piano and string trio), is an ambitious
piece and a considerable achievement
in its own right, and to my mind quite
successful. It opens with a lengthy
instrumental introduction stating the
main material of the whole piece which
the ensuing settings vary at some length
and with a remarkable imagination. The
red thread running through the whole
piece is a number of words, such as
ombra and morte, each
being given its specific musical colour,
so as to ensure some coherence in this
otherwise quite contrasted and eventful
setting, reflecting moods suggested
by Ungaretti’s words. Mantovani’s lyrical
gifts are much in evidence in the beautifully
supple and flexible vocal part, for
all its demands and technical difficulties.
The setting, as a whole, is remarkably
varied, by turns dreamy and angry, dramatic
and meditative, in its response to Ungaretti’s
verse. Mantovani conjures up a powerfully
expressive sound-world from his seemingly
limited instrumental forces; and his
music abounds in many imaginative instrumental
touches, always enhancing the words’
suggested moods rather than running
against the stream for virtuosity’s
sake. Indeed, expression and communication
are clearly paramount, in spite of the
music’s complexity, as is quite clear
in the beautifully moving, hushed conclusion
of the work.
Troisième
Round, a concerto for saxophone
and ensemble in all but name, obviously
shares many characteristics with the
other works here; but with a much greater
freedom. The exacting solo part is present
from first to last, and runs through
the five interlinked sections, although
the soloist in turn performs on tenor,
soprano, alto and baritone saxophones.
The overall impression left by this
brilliant, often virtuosic piece, however,
is that of a clear line with a clearly
defined final goal. This is in fact
the impression that one gets in the
other pieces recorded here, particularly
so in La Morte Meditata
that journeys forth towards some final,
albeit hard-won serenity.
Bruno Mantovani is
a young composer to be reckoned with,
who has things to say and who knows
how to say them. He is not afraid of
using a wide range of expressive and
technical means to communicate his intensely
lyrical and passionate vision. In doing
so, his music may be fairly complex,
but never extravagantly so (although
he puts many demands on his performers)
or disarmingly simple, without ever
being banal. I am sure that we may expect
much in the future from this endearing
composer who is superbly well served
by his performers and the recording
team. Warmly recommended.
Hubert Culot