Who could have thought,
twenty years ago, that Philip Glass
would be regarded as an American symphonist?
His early, radical Minimalism did not
seem to predestine his involvement in
large-scale works ... and these now
include several concertos. One might
question Minimalism’s ability to work
in long symphonic structures. The present
recording of Glass’s Second and Third
Symphonies may provide some answers.
Anyway, there probably are as many symphonies
as there are symphonic composers; and
a symphony – after all – is what the
composer makes of it.
The Second Symphony
in three weighty movements is the most
ambitious piece here. Playing for nearly
three-quarters of an hour, it may seem
a bit too long for some tastes. As a
symphonic structure, however, it displays
a good deal of formal and thematic coherence,
which to a certain extent partakes of
the essence of a symphony. The first
two movements are clearly interrelated;
and, as Daniel Felsenfeld rightly remarks
in his insert notes, "the second
movement picks up where the first left
off". True, both movements are
rather similar in mood and audibly share
thematic material, whereas the third
movement brings welcome contrast. The
opening flourish gives way to a more
angular, virile "Villa-Lobos-meets-Honegger"
theme of some energy at odds with the
more overtly repetitive patterns of
the preceding movements.
The Third Symphony
is different from its predecessor. It
was written for the Stuttgart Chamber
Orchestra and is scored for a relatively
small body of strings. It is a much
more compressed piece with some more
interesting material. It is in four
movements, of which the second is a
Scherzo and the third a fairly impressive
Chaconne, whereas the first functions
as a prelude and the fourth as a short
conclusion briefly looking back at the
Scherzo. There are many really fine
moments in this often attractive work;
and the string writing is beautifully
assured and idiomatic. The Third Symphony’s
concision and directness of expression
make it a real winner. As far as I am
concerned, it is the finest work of
the two here, and the only one that
clearly qualifies as a symphony.
I enjoyed both pieces
enormously, although – again – I think
that the Third Symphony is a winner
and unquestionably superior to its predecessor.
Both pieces receive impeccable readings,
and are warmly recorded. Now, we know
what a minimalist symphony can be. Well
worth investigating.
Hubert Culot
see also review
by Rob Barnett