Guridi’s
Sinfonía pirenaica was written in 1945 and premiered
by this orchestra. It’s a loquaciously colourful work teeming
with textual incident and density and a three-movement symphony
of great character and imagination. The opening Andante sostenuto
is actually quite deceptive; the level of impressionism evoked
here is not one greatly sustained throughout but instead leads
to fresh air and plenty of incident, rich in folkloric dash.
These are tinged with baroque varnishings and plenty of detailing
from the winds and especially from the bassoon. There are Straussian
and Elgarian parallels (I was reminded of the latter’s Falstaff
more than once) but the over arching parallel I suppose
– and unavoidably – is with Vaughan Williams. Little ceremonial
brass calls course throughout as do processionals and there’s
a strong sense of celebration and sheer warmth – as we find
in the skirl of the orchestration as the first movement makes
its final ascent at the end.
Dance
is another major component, as is encountered in the bipartite
second movement – a Presto leading to an Andante sostenuto –
very attractively orchestrated and winningly performed by the
expert band and their excellent conductor Juan José Mena. There
is a particularly expressive moment when the viola theme enters,
which it does with the serene force of a hymnal – unexpected
and very beautiful – though it’s soon followed by some tensile
and ominous writing. The finale is briskly rhythmic, lush, vibrant
and full of some big, bold and very attractive moments. I have
to say I found this slightly diffuse for all its clear charms,
that the climaxes reappeared here and elsewhere with a degree
of regularity that sometimes imperilled the structure. I think
one can hardly but feel that there are some repetitious moments
along the mountain journey. And that, finally, renders the work
problematic. But I wouldn’t suggest you pass by; there’s plenty
of luscious melody and evocative writing to be encountered and
this is certainly a work more talked about than heard. Here’s
a fine chance to put right that injustice. The performance certainly
makes the best case for it.
There’s
a small extra item – the exciting Sword Dance (all three
minutes of it) from Amaya. This is extracted from the
complete work on Marco Polo 8.225084-85 and recorded back in
1997.
Jonathan
Woolf
see also Review
by Hubert Culot