This is a most interesting recording, though,
it has to be said, something of a mixed blessing. Zdenek
Bruderhans is a distinguished Czech flautist, who left
his homeland in the late 1960s, and has since mainly been
based in Australia. It’s a pity that the brief liner notes
tell us nothing about Bruderhans or the other musicians
who take part here. What the notes do point out, however,
is that the recordings took place over a thirty year period,
in a wide range of different venues, as you can see from
the details above. That has to be taken into account,
and to a certain extent explains the variable quality of
both playing and recording.
Nevertheless, the programme of music is
fascinating, and I for one, as a great lover of Martinů’s
music, am enormously grateful to have a version of the
Sonata for flute, violin and piano and the Promenades for
flute, violin and harpsichord, neither of which is much
represented in the current catalogue. The sonata has,
in its opening Allegro poco moderato (track 4), that
folk-inspired rhythmic energy that you often find in this
composer’s music, right up to the Nonet of 1959, the year
of his death. The Adagio that follows is deeply
expressive and also perfectly judged in its use of the
three instruments. A sparkling Allegretto and a
good-humoured Moderato complete this delightful
work.
Even more attractive for me are the four
Promenades that follow. This work is more often heard
with piano; but there’s no doubt that the harpsichord adds
something special to it in terms of bite and piquancy. Each
of the four pieces is very short, none as much as three
minutes, and there is an insubstantial, even surreal flavour
supplied by the mixture of the harpsichord’s Baroque associations
and the music’s 20th century idiom. The quicker
movements are full of wit and sheer joie de vivre,
but it is again the very beautiful Adagio that has
made the strongest impression on me – exquisite music,
and wonderfully projected by these musicians.
Jindrich Feld’s music was new to me, but
Bruderhans presents the two works here in a most persuasive
way. The solo flute pieces are impressive, with a third
movement which pays ‘Hommage a Bartók’ in its third
movement by way of allusions to the Intermezzo interrotto of
Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra. The finale is a real
firework display, containing an almost-unheard-of top F
for the flute – enough to rule the piece out for all but
the most courageous players. Feld’s Flute Sonata, which
completes the disc, is another very likeable piece, with
strong echoes of Poulenc and Prokofiev in its perky tunes
and spiky rhythms. The second movement, Grave, also
contains more than a hint of Martinů’s influence,
with a central climax that recalls the disturbing intensity
of the older composer’s Double Concerto for strings, piano
and timps. .
The standard of performing and musicianship
from all the musicians in the above works is extremely
impressive, though the recordings are far below the best
modern standards. So it is rather unfortunate that Martinů’s
oddly titled First Flute Sonata, - odd because he
wrote only one! - the first work on the disc, and by far
the most familiar one, presents Bruderhans’ playing at
its least satisfactory. The tone is breathy and wavering,
he is sharp of the piano throughout, and generally sounds
out of sorts. This isn’t helped by the recording, which
is balanced crudely and of poor quality, all of which could
easily put you off from persisting to the later tracks,
which would be a great pity as you’d be missing some distinguished
music-making.
All told, a very uneven and slightly unsatisfactory
issue, but still worth having for the loving performances
it contains of some unusual but highly attractive repertoire.
Gwyn Parry-Jones
Zdenek Bruderhans
(flute) 
