From ever-enterprising
Dunelm comes this interesting disc of
works both new and old. The Stravinsky
and Bartok pieces are classics, although
the former’s The Rite of Spring
is played here in the composer’s
own arrangement for piano duet. The
new work is Charles Camilleri’s Concerto
for Two Pianos and Percussion which
was written in part as a response to
Bartok’s Sonata for the same
combination of instruments.
Camilleri was born
in Malta but is a cosmopolitan figure
who has lived in London and New York.
His work is not particularly well known
in this country but it was as a result
of his visit to Chetham’s School of
Music Summer School, 2004 that the new
concerto was written. It was Murray
McLachlan who suggested to the composer
the possibility of writing a piece that
used the same forces as Bartok’s work.
The resulting work is a colourful addition
to what is a small repertoire for this
type of ensemble. The composer has written
that he wanted to explore the possibility
of treating tonality, modality and atonality
as equal partners. In so doing he has
avoided the trap of diffusion and eclecticism.
How he does this is by means of a subtle
blending of the compositional elements.
Modal fragments figure much in the slow
central movement but they appear almost
as folk memories amid the shifting harmonies
that surround them. The tonal elements
are often quickly subverted by dissonance;
the harmonies remain mobile in a way
that sometimes suggests Boulez, particularly
in parts of the first movement. The
percussion instruments are used both
rhythmically and colouristically. The
last movement is propelled by tambourine
and snare drum in a way that recalls
Lambert’s Rio Grande. This is
a resourceful and enjoyable new work.
Stravinsky’s The
Rite of Spring is so familiar in
its orchestral form that I was initially
sceptical about its chances of success
as a piano duet. The CD booklet describes
the version as a reduction so it is
not clear whether the composer intended
it to be performed as a concert piece
or whether he had in mind the rehearsal
needs of the corps de ballet
and their preparations with a pair of
pianistic répétiteurs.
Whatever the reason this new recording
is very welcome and actually highlights
different aspects of the work when compared
to the orchestral version. Despite its
percussive nature the piano can’t quite
match the brutality of Stravinsky’s
orchestration. In The Augurs of Spring
the piano is no match for the savage
string chords and barking horns. What
this version reveals is a remarkable
clarity of harmony, as if this most
colourful of scores was being subjected
to a Brahmsian ‘black and white’ test.
Time and time again I found myself stopping
the recording to replay sections whose
harmony seemed strangely new despite
my having known the work for nearly
forty years. Often I was convinced of
the influence of Debussy, a composer
whom I had not hitherto considered in
relation to this work. Despite the reduction
from more than a hundred players to
just two, the concluding Sacrificial
Dance is still thrilling and this
is largely due to the performance which
is superb throughout. Page and McLachlan
have done a great service in allowing
us to hear Stravinsky’s music afresh
and I would recommend this version to
anyone interested in one of the monuments
of 20th century music.
With Bartok’s Sonata
for Two Pianos and Percussion the
performers tackle another masterpiece
and they do so with aplomb. The work
is also available in an expanded version
for two pianos and orchestra but the
original chamber version of 1938 is
presented here. Eminent musicologist,
Lendvai, has teased out some of Bartok’s
structural devises used in works of
this period such as symmetry, the Fibonacci
sequence and the Golden Section – good
for him! The overarching impression
of the Sonata is not in fact
that of a clever design but of a profound
and chilling musical statement that
received its first performance only
two months before the Nazi Anschluss
of Austria, an event that filled the
composer with dismay. It is perhaps
wrong to attach the work too closely
to political events but there is something
very sinister about the strange, loping
chords and bursts of percussion with
which the first movement begins. The
performance on this disc is a fine one;
I particularly enjoyed the reading of
the mysterious slow movement with its
dark, swirling colours and scurrying
insects. The rhythmic finale carries
the listener along with its energy and
good spirits. When I hear the opening
xylophone theme I am always reminded
of Shostakovich, the composer Bartok
was to lampoon a few years later in
the Concerto for Orchestra.
This disc is very well
served by the recording engineer; the
pianos sound warm but clear and the
percussion is bright – listen to the
crackle of the suspended cymbal near
the start of the Camilleri and the wash
of vibraphone later in that work. All
three works presented are valuable and
the Camilleri concerto should now find
a place in programmes that feature Bartok’s
sonata. A thought provoking and rewarding
issue.
David Hackbridge
Johnson
Kathryn Page; Murray McLachlan (piano) 
