I’ve written before
about Danacord’s Koppel series, a wide-ranging
conspectus that has embraced his symphonic,
orchestral, concerto, chamber and vocal
works. It’s also brought to the catalogue
significant examples of Koppel’s own
highly impressive pianism, both in his
own works and of those whose influence
can be felt in his music; Prokofiev,
Stravinsky, Bartók. This however
is the first of the symphonic cycle
that I’ve caught up with – though Symphonies
One, Two, Six and Seven along with the
Concerto for Orchestra have been reviewed
on this site.
Koppel wrote the Third
Symphony in neutral Sweden between 1944
and 1945. He’d had to leave Denmark
the previous year and the one movement
symphony, as he reminisced many years
later, expressed the "fear mixed
with horror we felt about the fate of
Denmark." Lasting half an hour
and cast in three sections this was
the first of Koppel’s symphonies to
be published, in 1946, since, dissatisfied
with their performance, he withheld
publication of the first two The Third
grows from two motifs heard at the outset,
on clarinet and on the cor anglais;
there’s an angular string figure, jagged
and unsettled which leads to the clarinet
theme over ostinati before Koppel introduces
a simpler, more affecting lyricism.
But he knows precisely how to ratchet
up the tension, constantly opposing
the string’s desolate unease with the
more winding and consoling woodwinds.
There is also some bucolic writing –
with diaphanous scoring; Koppel was
something of a master at lightening
texture and it’s salutary to listen
to how lightly he orchestrates here.
In the Allegro energico we get brass-fuelled
insistence and a relentless drive before
he slowly revisits earlier motifs and
earlier angular fissures, the music
now seeming increasingly freighted with
adduced meaning.
The Fourth Symphony
was premiered by Thomas Jensen in November
1946. The angularity of the earlier
work’s opening is counterpointed by
the rather malign figure that stalks
the first movement of the Fourth and
the consoling clarinet’s second subject.
The high lying violins are rather insolently
punctured and Koppel introduces some
frantic and rhythmic brass tattoos and
following these moments of violent candour
there comes a moment of an almost achieved
Chorale. The Intermezzo is firmly in
the neo-classical camp and is full of
crisp brass calls, thumping percussion
and real power – something of a satiric
shelter from the storming surrounding
movements. Those abrupt juxtapositions
are most heard in the finale, a terse
and changeable one, full of edgy strings
and rather bleak lowering brass. Episodes
keep coming, from a strange and improbable
march (which predictably breaks down)
and ensuing wild drama, to the winds’
fillips and aerial traceries. And then
from that deceptive relief to ever more
martial cataclysm, a distant cousin
of Holst’s Mars, in a pulverising episode
from which the woodwinds emerge gingerly,
like animals after a storm. Fanfares
end the work ambiguously, though one
can hope optimistically.
The finale of the Fourth
shows Koppel at his most creatively
ambitious in these symphonies. Idiomatic
performances under Moshe Atzmon and
Dacapo’s usual fine notes and clear
recording only add to the attractiveness
of these unsettled and unsettling works.
Jonathan Woolf
John Phillips
has also listened to this disc
After releasing Symphonies
1, 2, 6 and 7 over the past couple of
years we now have available Nos. 3 and
4. This is volume 3 in the series and
I would urge anyone who is in the least
bit interested in fairly modern Scandinavian
symphonies to hear these works. I have
been very impressed by the earlier volumes
in the series and I give a very warm
welcome to the present release. Like
the other two discs in the series, this
is a co-production between Dacapo and
Danish Radio. The recordings are models
of their kind – clear and detailed and
well balanced by the sound engineers.
From the recording
dates, all of the six initial symphonies
were recorded fairly close together,
so I expect it was a marketing decision
to release them gradually rather than
make up a boxed set of all seven of
them. We only have one to go to enable
music lovers to experience the whole
of his canon.
Unlike some of his
earlier works, which were all in three
movements, the third symphony is in
one movement, which is subdivided into
six sections, lasting half an hour.
The overriding impression of this composer’s
symphonies is of clearly evident growth
in the musical ideas and thematic development.
I find that in many contemporary works,
this element is entirely lacking, or
else submerged in fashionable noise.
Koppel, was born in
Denmark from parents of Polish origin,
who fled to Denmark in 1907 with many
other Jewish refugees. He was educated
at the Royal Danish Academy of Music
in Copenhagen, where he was friendly
with and received much helpful musical
guidance from Carl Nielsen. The Koppel
family has become well known within
the musical establishment in Denmark
with Herman becoming composer, teacher
and performer. He married a Christian
girl to the dismay of his parents. The
family, composer, wife and two small
children fled to neutral Sweden when
Denmark was occupied by the Nazis during
the Second World War. His two sons became
rock stars (Savage Rose) and his daughter
became the star soprano of the Royal
Danish Opera. The composer himself became
a professor at the Copenhagen Academy
from 1955 to 1978, and was the accompanist
to Aksel Schiotz on many of his fine
recordings.
The third symphony
was written whilst the composer and
his family were in exile in Sweden.
Whilst living there he made a re-acquaintance
with an old childhood friend, now married
to a Swedish baron. She was Lea Akerhielm
and she was able to provide Koppel with
a piano and peace and quiet to allow
him to practise and compose. This symphony
is dedicated to her. The symphony is
not a programme work, but in mood and
tone it raised the feelings the composer
had about the fate of Denmark. It is
an assured work and clearly shows that
he had a wonderful grasp of his material
and knew instinctively what to do with
it.
The fourth symphony
is dedicated to his former piano teacher,
Anders Rachlew and his wife. It was
premiered by Thomas Jensen and the Danish
National Radio Orchestra on 7th
November 1946. It starts with a contorted
dance of death which is subject to extensive
development, along with a pastoral hymn
which is heard as a contrasting element
of the movement. The remaining movements
follow this pattern and hints of Bartók
and Stravinsky may be heard, submerged
within the work.
I am delighted to welcome
this disc as an example of a mid-twentieth
century composer who deserves to be
much wider known and respected. Needless
to say, both performances and recordings
are first rate, and I cannot believe
that anyone purchasing this disc will
be in the least bit disappointed.
John Phillips
see also review
by Rob Barnett
Aalborg
Symphony Orchestra/Moshe Atzmon