A Sudden Rainbow
is the earliest work in this anthology
of Schwantner’s recent orchestral music.
The composer admits to a lifelong passion
for the orchestra. This orchestral fantasy
and the other pieces recorded here fully
demonstrate his skills in handling often
quite large forces with considerable
imagination as well as his obvious liking
for clear, vivid orchestral colours.
Brass and percussion are often prominent,
although the composer allows moments
of respite. His music does not attempt
to break new ground, but rather relies
on an innovative and imaginative use
of the 20th Century mainstream
orchestral tradition. His music is often
based on ostinatos that serve to propel
flights of fancy as well as anchoring
the music to firm ground. It is colourful,
straightforward and often communicates
strongly. A Sudden Rainbow
is a very fine example of Schwantner’s
orchestral music.
None of the three concertante
works recorded here is a real concerto.
Actually, both Angelfire
and September Canticle
are described as ‘fantasies’ whereas
Beyond Autumn is a ‘poem’
for horn and orchestra. The soloist
is more of an important partner than
an outsider battling against the orchestra
although this does not mean that confrontation
is completely absent.
Angelfire
for amplified violin and orchestra was
written for Anne Akiko Meyers who gave
the first performance. It opens with
"several strongly punctuated gong-like
pedal tones" - to my mind, one
of the most typical hallmarks of this
composer - out of which several melodic
fragments emerge. They then progressively
expand into long lines, by turns dreamy,
meditative and heroic, interspersed
with cadenza-like passages. At about
five minutes into the work - after the
arresting introduction - there begins
a long lyrical central section, in which
the music slowly gains considerable
momentum. The accumulated tension is
eventually unleashed in the brilliant
coda: a varied restatement of the opening
section abruptly cut short. Incidentally,
Laurie Shulman’s excellent notes do
not tell us to what extent the soloist
is amplified, although I suppose that
such amplification is probably more
justified in the concert hall than in
a recording.
Beyond Autumn,
dedicated to the memory of the composer’s
father-in-law, was composed for Gregory
Hustis who premiered it with the Dallas
Symphony Orchestra. This poem for horn
and orchestra has much in common with
the other pieces here, in that it, too,
is structured as a musical arch and
that much of the music is actually derived
from basic material stated at the outset.
After a short, forceful call to action,
the soloist is heard off-stage in fanfare-like
gestures punctuated by massive timpani
strokes and echoed by the orchestral
horns, seated front stage, left where
the cellos usually are. From then on,
various contrasted episodes follow,
lyrical and impassioned, until the peaceful
coda is reached, with the soloist’s
last da lontano farewell over
a softly tolling ostinato.
September Canticle
for organ, brass, percussion, amplified
piano and strings was written for the
winner of the Second Triennial Dallas
International Organ Competition in March
2000, James Diaz who premiered it in
2002, with Jesús López-Cobos
conducting. The piece eventually turned
out to be Schwantner’s response to the
terrible events of September 11, 2001,
although the music is by no means programmatic.
After a mysterious, bell-like introduction
in the strings punctuated by short outbursts
from brass and percussion, the organ
enters forcefully surrounded by fanfares
and timpani strokes. It then moves on
in a heavy-treading processional leading
into an energetic hymn-like theme. There
follows a slower section in which strings
have the lead (a beautiful tune a bit
à la Copland) and in which
the organ is silent. A massive brassy
climax arrives. Then the organ softly
picks up the tune and expands it with
a varied restatement of its first grand
tune in a contrapuntal section of great
strength in which the organ is allowed
to be itself. The music builds to a
mighty climax, again heavily punctuated
by timpani, soon joined by brass and
percussion. Once again progress is abruptly
interrupted; and the piece ends with
a short, soft, appeasing coda.
These performances
by the musicians for whom these pieces
were written cannot be bettered. Superb,
immaculate and committed playing by
all concerned, making the best of this
strongly communicative music.
Just as the all-Schwantner
release from Naxos (8.559206)
recently reviewed here shed interesting
light on his chamber music, this superb
release provides a survey of this endearing
composer’s honest and personal orchestral
music. Warmly recommended.
Hubert Culot
Anne Akiko Meyers (violin)a;
Gregory Hustis (horn)b; James Diaz
(organ)c 
