Meyer Kupferman is
a name completely new to me, so I listened
to the music on these discs with ‘innocent’
ears. As the music began to take hold
and I gave each piece repeated hearings,
my curiosity about the composer grew.
Thanks largely to Valentine Fabian’s
excellent biography in the booklet,
plus some of my own digging around,
I have found that Kupferman has gained
something of a cult following, particularly
in America and parts of central Europe.
Judging by what I’ve heard here, it’s
easy to see why.
He is a phenomenally
productive composer, even though he
is now in his late seventies, with no
less than 7 operas, 12 symphonies, 9
ballets, 10 concertos and hundreds of
chamber works. Now, as we all know,
quantity does not always equal quality,
but all the works featured on this Soundspells
double pack have something original
to say and there is a distinctive voice
at work here. In fact, one has to be
grateful to this series of recordings
for getting his music to the wider international
public. As with so many composers, without
the aid of records we would simply not
have a chance to experience any of his
music, and I for one would feel the
poorer for it.
The Tuba Concerto
makes an arresting opening item. This
is not an easy solo instrument to write
for, often sounding unintentionally
comic in faster music. Typically for
him, Kupferman admits to being fascinated
with the expressive and virtuosic capabilities
of the instrument, traits fully exploited
here. The wonderfully swirling string
textures that open the piece give way
to what the composer calls ‘a dramatic
incantation, or aria’ from the soloist,
which is repeated in varying forms.
Kupferman’s love of jazz is not long
in surfacing (around 5’46), where the
walking bass line and bluesy solo melody
suit the sonority of the tuba. The feeling
of this being a modernistic jazz concerto
are strong in places, yet there is a
structural organisation and solid integrity
that are wholly winning, and it certainly
repays repeated listening.
The three-movement
guitar quartet entitled Going
Home also shows Kupferman’s
love of another (as he sees it) under-exploited
instrument. He has written other pieces,
including the evocative Echoes from
Barcelona for solo guitar, and he
clearly loves the exotic textural possibilities
on offer with this combination. References
to Spanish and Baroque music are quite
audible, but he mixes this with modernistic
atonality to create an alluring mixture
of the old and the new. In fact, as
with all Kupferman’s work, structure
and form are crucial, and everything
is tightly organised without ever sounding
mechanical or routine. The artists involved
are also important, as all are friends
who have commissioned and premiered
works by him, and the air of complete
authority hangs over the performance.
Into the Breach
is a four-movement orchestral work that
again balances standard orchestral texture
and symphonic structure with jazz rhythms
and a liberal sprinkling of explosive
syncopations. It is extremely approachable,
with a magical third movement that introduces
the alto saxophone as a quasi-soloist,
something that also drives home the
jazz orientations of the composer. It
is played with confidence and not a
little exuberance by the Czech forces
under their American conductor, Paul
Freeman.
The Percussion
Symphony has an overtly political
dimension to it, with the subtitle ‘…on
Tibet and Tiannanman Square…’ clearly
meant to conjure up for the listener
extra-musical thoughts on brutality
and repression. As Stravinsky realised
early in his career, there is nothing
quite like a battery of percussion,
imaginatively used, for stoking up primeval
or atavistic feelings and Kupferman
doesn’t miss a trick. Structure is again
important, with march-like rhythms aplenty,
but there is much that is subtle and
evocative, especially at the start.
I particularly like the pacing of his
climactic moments, and he even uses
the voices of the players and audience
part way through the second movement,
where the human screams, far from being
a cheap effect, plunge us into the horror
of conflict and confrontation.
I’ve mentioned structure
more than once, so it is fitting that
the final work is actually entitled
Structures. This dates
from 2001 and was composed in hospital
as the composer recovered from illness.
As one might by now expect, it is a
very tightly argued, large-scale one-movement
work of symphonic proportions. It is
also highly coloured, with Kupferman
exploiting the idea of four small ensembles
within the orchestra pitting sonorities
against each other. The melodic language
is quite angular and the harmonies fairly
dissonant, making it sound a bit like
a Darmstadt remnant from the early Sixties.
The whole thing is very involving, particularly
because the ear is constantly led forward
with an exciting, inexorable momentum.
The recording is a little dry and close
for me (it also sounds live) but the
skill and commitment of the players
is never in question.
I rate the music on
this pair of discs very highly. It is
refreshing and challenging in its own
way, with no reliance on gimmickry or
electronics, just beautifully crafted
and solidly organised. The composer’s
jazz roots surface at intervals throughout,
and I found it no surprise at all to
learn he is the author of a widely used
textbook entitled ‘Atonal Jazz’, as
that is exactly what I felt I was listening
to at times. A stimulating and rewarding
issue, with fulsome biography and excellent
musical notes by the composer completing
the satisfaction.
Tony Haywood
Edwin
Diefes (tuba), 