This disc covers the last phase of Peterson-Berger's piano oeuvre
and consequently is the last in this series; the last that is
unless Olof Höjer plans to re-record
Frösöblomster, which already exists in a fine
recording from the early 1990s. The last two decades of the
composer's life were marked by a decline in creativeness, even
though his fine violin concerto (1928) shows the old lion in fine
fettle. Among the pieces featured there is much of interest, though
it has to rub shoulders with some scrapings. Italiana - Five
tone poems is a fascinating collection, the fruits of his visit
to Italy between October 1920 and April 1921. It also exists in an
orchestral version. Praising the sun was something P-B had done
before, but this late encounter with the Mediterranean evoked those
feelings again. One gets the impression that this sun shines
brighter. The work radiates a melodic glow unique in his piano
writing. The two antique visions are quite different: Dancing
nymph floats through the air, wrapped in a thin veil, while the
second vision, celebrating Bacchus, is a noisy and towards the end
ecstatic piece. A serene stillness reigns around Villa
d'Este, something quite different from Liszt's well-known,
colourful description of the fountains in the garden. The
concluding Serenade of Sorrento is something of an
anti-climax.
In the Three new dance poems one feels transported back to
the world of Frösöblomster decades earlier, but in
a more subdued atmosphere. The Three tone poems for piano,
published in 1928, were originally printed in "Dagens Nyheter", the
daily newspaper where P-B was music critic for many years, and
honestly it seems a bit presumptuous to label them "tone poems".
They are bagatelles, however charming, and the third, American
Dance, isn't even that. It may be a parody of the new jazz
music that P-B on more than one occasion had condemned - "idiotic"
he once wrote and later "jazz undermines general European musical
taste in the secular sphere". Some syncopation apart there isn't
much jazz feeling but the pianist has to play a couple of
five-octave glissandi that can raise an eye-brow or two. Even Olof
Höjer has not decided whether this is seriously intended
music.
Solitude is a mixed bag of the charming and the strange. To
the former category belongs the Bachelor Waltz, simple but
written in a folk-music idiom, balancing between gaiety and
melancholy. Movie could be an attempt at silent movie music
paraphrase. A very simple children's song is followed by some rapid
running music and suddenly it's over. Enigma is indeed
enigmatic. It is a series of fragments, seemingly disconnected, and
ends in mid-air.
The two collections of Anakreontika, named after the Greek
poet Anacreon, who lived in the 6th century BC, are a
little difficult to categorize. There is a dreamlike atmosphere in
several of them. Even without actually knowing it I would probably
have guessed that this was the work of an old man.
As I have said in my earlier reviews of P-B's music it is well
worth making its acquaintance. Frösöblomster
remains first choice but from there one can explore his work both
backwards and forwards. Olof Höjer has devoted much time
delving into this music and clearly knows its inner workings. There
is no flashiness - apart from those glissandi in the American
Dance. Peterson-Berger never had any virtuoso ambitions.
Höjer catches this to perfection. His are trustworthy readings
and if that sounds less than enticing it is meant as a compliment.
His booklet notes are far more than that; in fact reading the
comments for all four discs one get a full-size portrait of this
much-loved and also much-hated cultural personality in Sweden
during the first four decades of the 20th century.
Göran Forsling
Olof Höjer (piano)
