This is a disc of bits
and pieces for cello and orchestra,
and as the title implies, all of them
rather languid, succulent romantic works
apart from the fizzing virtuosic demands
of the second part of Tchaikovsky’s
Pezzo capriccioso. Timings average
about five minutes each (apart from
Bruch’s well known Kol nidrei
at double that), which means that such
works are hard to programme in the concert
hall, managements being understandably
keen to squeeze out at least half an
hour’s worth from expensive soloists.
The trio of unconnected Tchaikovsky
works makes a rather attractive if unauthorised
concertino for the instrument. All were
written for cellist Anatoly Brandukov;
the Andante cantabile soon achieving
a popularity which Tchaikovsky came
to resent, a common reaction among composers
being to bite the hand that feeds. It
and the Nocturne had origins
elsewhere among his works, a string
quartet and piano piece respectively.
Glazunov’s Chant du ménestrel
is another wistful melodic piece, essentially
Russian in character but with French
overtones emphasising the strong cultural
links between the two nations which
persisted until the 20th
century.
Sibelius was adept
at writing miniatures, the two featured
here being for violin or cello and with
either orchestral or piano accompaniment.
They are both beautiful works, the profound
Cantique extensively scored with
prominent harp and timpani parts, while
Devotion is a darker, sombre
piece, both works dating from the First
World War. Saint-Saëns’ Allegro
appassionato, one of many short
pieces he wrote for solo instruments
and orchestra, is an attractively crafted
work of the quality one comes to expect
from this imaginative tunesmith, and
again there is a Franco-Slavic flavour
to the main melodic material. Dvořák’s
ruminative Waldesruhe
(dedicated to Hanus Wihan, as was the
composer’s fine cello concerto) depicts
the Bohemian forest region of Sumavy
where he had a summer house, and for
which he was no doubt pining from far
away America where he was living in
the early 1890s. Once again the music
is an arrangement, this time of a work
for piano duettists. Only a single movement
from a projected sonata for cello by
Fauré has survived, the plangent
Élégie, and this after
its great success at a private performance
at Saint-Saëns’ house. It is a
work which strives agonisingly to scale
passionate heights and achieves powerful
emotions at various climactic points,
including its cadenza. Bruch’s Kol
nidrei, the most commonly heard
work of this collection, is based on
a melody from the Jewish prayer uttered
on the eve of the Day of Atonement.
At the time (1878-1880) the composer
was in charge of a Jewish choir in Berlin,
the Stern’schen Gesangverein, and it
was from among its members that he encountered
this beautifully haunting tune.
Cellist Arto Noras
does not (indeed cannot) rely on selling
this disc with a cover photo of himself
draped across a divan or emerging dripping
from the sea as recent string instrumentalists
have been known to do. Instead his stylish
playing and full tone capture the mood
in all the works, even though he misses
the vital importance of the quaver rests
in the main melody of Kol nidrei,
which are vocal sighs of huge emotional
significance. Apart from some dubious
tuning in the woodwind chorus (six minutes
into the same work), the Kuopio Symphony
Orchestra under Markus Lehtinen fulfill
their accompanying role adequately,
but clearly all spotlights are reserved
for the cellist. In short, while there
are not many cheery moments to bring
sufficient contrast to the works, if
you happen to be in the mood for an
hour of unadulterated romance, and it
might make useful background music for
certain situations, this is an enjoyable
enough disc to dip into.
Christopher Fifield
Arto Noras, cello 