My instant response
to the opening of this disc (the second
symphony) was its similarity to moments
in Prokofiev’s ballet Romeo and Juliet.
The comparison is short-lived, however,
for Blauvelt soon establishes his own
style, a fairly approachable one if
not for those who hunger after melody
or rhythmic excitement. The music is
brooding and introspective, and it would
have been interesting if it had also
been recorded in its original format
as a wind octet followed by its reworking
for full orchestra two years later.
What it badly needs is a freer, more
resonant space for the orchestral textures,
the acoustic (no recording venue or
date is given) being far too dry, while
much more variation in tempi (for example
an extra scherzo movement) would ease
the ear. Blauvelt’s music tends to work
in instrumental family blocks at any
one time, strings, winds or brass, and
whatever the colour, there is a prevailing
air of deep pessimism from start to
finish.
The subtitle ‘Terror
and Reconciliation’ given retrospectively
to his third cello sonata hardly inspires
expectations of a change of mood. It
too was originally conceived for something
else, in this instance the bassoon.
With all due respect to that instrument,
neither terror nor reconciliation are
words which immediately spring to mind,
but with the cello there is clearly
more scope. Even so the words ‘terror
and reconciliation’ appear to have been
an afterthought and (to quote the sparsely
informative booklet note) ‘came about
as the piece, after its US premiere
in 1993, was first performed in France
at one of the concerts for the 50th
anniversary of the British bombing of
the port city of Le Havre in 1994’ (the
premiere that is, not the bombing).
The note acknowledges an affinity with
the second symphony, and it is given
an urgently impassioned account by cellist
Theresa Villani accompanied by the composer
at the piano in this live performance.
The sonata is among
the best music on the disc, which ends
chronologically inverted with his two-movement
first symphony, submitted in 1980 as
a doctoral dissertation and one suspects
Stravinsky might have had an influence
in places at this time. It may be a
strange decision to present his music
this way around, but one does hear elements
of works to come two decades later.
At times the intonation of the playing
by the Moravian Philharmonic Orchestra
under Joel Eric Suben leaves much to
be desired, but they make a brave attempt
at the faster passages six minutes into
the first movement, and there are cruelly
exposed string passages and effects
four minutes later. Blauvelt takes no
hostages to fortune when writing for
the French horn right from the start
of the disc to this first movement of
the first symphony, a work which, at
least to this reviewer, shows more imagination
and engages the listener more than the
second, if only because its instrumentation,
including tubular bells in the finale,
makes a greater impact. For a contemporary
composer, percussion apart from timpani
tends to play a lesser role, while on
the other hand certain instruments such
as the tuba, the double bassoon or solo
violin among others are favoured. None
of the works carries tempi indications,
just Roman numerals for each movement,
so there is no clue as to mood or speed.
The disc needs more variety and relief,
which is otherwise only apparent in
the cheery smile and happy demeanour
in the photograph of the composer on
the back of the booklet.
Christopher Fifield