“Everybody” knows Bachianas brasileiras
No. 5 with that beautiful soprano aria and an accompaniment
by eight cellos. But what about the rest? It reminds me of
the musical student who at his exam was asked “How many symphonies
did Beethoven write?” “Three!” was the prompt answer. “Interesting”,
said the professor, “Can you elaborate?” “Of course”, the
student said: “The Eroica, The Pastoral and the Ninth.” “No.
5” in the case of Villa-Lobos also indicates that he wrote
more than one work of his kind, actually nine. Just as with
Beethoven, so No. 5 is in the middle of the canon. Symphonies
they are not, even though five of them are in four movements;
there the similarities end. Not directly modelled on Bach
they are deeply influenced by certain aspects of his music,
albeit with a Brazilian twist. There are fugues in four of
them, toccatas in four, arias in five and preludes in most.
Likewise he makes use of sundry dances. But they are not pastiches,
harmonically he is a child of his own time. Between them the
nine works are very different, ranging from chamber music
(No. 6) to full size orchestra. In between we find chamber
orchestra, string orchestra, piano and orchestra and the original
No. 1 for “an orchestra of cellos”, while No. 5 also stands
out by being the only one with vocal contribution. It should
also be remembered that No. 9 for string orchestra started
life as music for unaccompanied chorus. Besides the baroque
references, the Bachianas brasileiras (“Bach à la Brazil”)
are rhythmically fascinating. They are also imaginatively
and colourfully scored, even though in places the orchestration
can feel somewhat overloaded. I must compliment the recording
staff for managing to produce such translucent orchestral
textures with all the details of the score audible without
undue highlighting and without loss of the massive punch the
composer was quite capable of delivering.
Why this music isn’t more frequently performed
is not easy to say. Truth to tell some of the pieces need
to be heard more than once before they yield returns. Once
they have “opened up” the unprejudiced listener will be richly
rewarded. On the other hand there are works that are immediately
catchy, like No.1, with its rhythmically alive, contrapuntal
first movement, the beautiful, inward love song as its second
and the swinging third movement fugue. No. 2 is a darker composition
but the second movement has an evocative saxophone solo. There
are some hilarious trombone glissandi in the third and the
celebrated toccata, depicting the little train with its steam
engine running through North-Eastern Brazil, is not only a
vivid illustration of modern technique but also allows us
to glimpse the landscape flashing past.
There are other ear-openers for the newcomer.
Film music lovers may well revel in the Fantasia of
No. 3 with some virtuoso piano writing; the string dominated
Prelúdio of No. 4 is ravishingly beautiful; No. 6,
the shortest of them all, witty and elegant with its odd David-and-Goliath
duo for flute and bassoon; No. 7 has a Toccata that
oozes with ideas and a final Fuga, subtitled “Conversation”
which starts as a low-voiced, disciplined discussion but grows
more and more exciting, only to finish in a joint, jubilant
statement, underlined by triumphant timpani rolls; No. 8 has
a soaring cello melody that goes straight to the heart in
the Aria and a thrillingly rhythmic Toccata
and the Fuga of No. 9 is probably the most Bachian
movement in the whole cycle.
The execution and recording is a great victory
for all involved. The Nashville Symphony Orchestra have emerged
as a leading band the last few years through a series of excellent
Naxos recordings. Their conductor, for many years, Kenneth
Schermerhorn, sadly passed away some months ago. He never
put a foot wrong in this sometimes intricate music. Andrew
Mogrelia, recorded No. 1 after Schermerhorn’s death. The excellent
instrumentalists and the production team must also take a
bow. There is only one fly in the ointment. Observant readers
may have noticed that I omitted No. 5 (the one everybody knows)
from my survey, and that has nothing to do with the cello
department of the orchestra, who play with ideal silken tone.
My difficulty is with the soloist Rosana Lamosa. She has basically
a fine voice but it is marred by a heavy vibrato that definitely
conflicts with the music’s lyrical qualities. I don’t for
a second question Ms Lamosa’s musicality, but this piece requires
a simpler, softer, cleaner delivery. The ideal for me has
for many years been Victoria de los Angeles, who recorded
it for EMI in the 1950s with the composer conducting. There
are numerous other versions around that are much closer to
the mark. Different listeners react differently to voices
and others may feel more attuned to Ms Lamosa. I do admit
that the wordless part of the Aria, sung pianissimo,
is beautifully done. Since most collectors already have at
least one favourite recording of No. 5, this remark shouldn’t
deter anyone from acquiring the set, which as a whole, is
a wonderful bargain, irrespective of price range. I have sampled
a few other recordings at random and found none that Schermerhorn
isn’t at least on a par with and in most cases far superior
to. Richard Whitehouse’s essay in the booklet is a further
asset, although my copy had a couple of blank pages, so I
had to copy the text from Naxos’s homepage.
All in all then, another feather in the Naxos
hat, which is getting well-filled by now. A worthy memento
of the art of Kenneth Schermerhorn and a treasure trove of
wonderful and too little known music.
Göran Forsling
see also Review
by Patrick Waller
