The Polish tradition 
                is especially rich in pianist-composers: 
                musicians, that is, who were internationally 
                famous as pianists and also wrote music 
                which has endured - to one degree or 
                another. Chopin, Theodor Kullak, Franz 
                Xaver Scharwenka, Moritz Moskowski, 
                Ignacy Jan Paderewski, Leopold Godowsky, 
                Józef Hofmann, Ignaz Friedman, 
                Alexandre Tansman, etc. The list is 
                a long and distinguished one. Amongst 
                twentieth-century exemplars of the line 
                one might count Miłosz Magin, without 
                claiming for him quite the stature of 
                some of his predecessors. 
              
 
              
Magin 
                was born in Łodż and after 
                studies in Warsaw won prizes at a number 
                of prestigious piano competitions, 
                including the Chopin competition in 
                Warsaw, the Vianna da Motta in Lisbon 
                and the Marguerite Long-Thibaud in Paris. 
                He toured extensively and made an important 
                recording of all of Chopin’s piano music 
                for Decca. A serious road accident in 
                1963, in which 
                his left wrist was broken, interrupted 
                his career as a performer but gave him 
                the opportunity to return to work as 
                a composer. As a teacher, and as founder 
                in 1985 of the Miłosz Magin international 
                Piano Competition, he has been an important 
                influence on a number of younger 
                pianists. He died of a heart attack 
                – while on a concert tour – and was 
                buried close to Chopin in the Père-Lachaise 
                cemetery in Paris. 
              
 
              
As a composer Magin 
                wrote works in many genres and for a 
                variety of musical forces – including 
                pieces for solo piano, chamber music, 
                four concertos for piano, two violin 
                concertos, a clarinet concerto and a 
                cello concerto, as well as two symphonies. 
                More details on Magin can be found at 
                a website devoted to him: http://membres.lycos.fr/miloszmagin/. 
              
 
              
Magin himself premiered 
                his Piano Concerto No. 2 in 1967 in 
                Germany, with the Duisburg Symphony 
                Orchestra, conducted by Reinchard Zilcher. 
                I suspect that many listeners hearing 
                the concerto without being told anything 
                of the composer would imagine it to 
                be the work of a French composer – a 
                French composer of an earlier generation. 
                There are affinities with Ravel and 
                with Poulenc in this tuneful, thoroughly 
                tonal composition, which is firmly within 
                the neo-classical tradition. The first 
                movement is both graceful and lyrical, 
                its materials developed in text-book 
                fashion. The flowing melody which dominates 
                the central andante is charming. The 
                final movement is rather more specifically 
                Polish, in its use of the oberek, a 
                Polish dance in triple meter. 
              
 
              
The Cello Concerto 
                is also in three movements and is rather 
                more thoroughly Polish in manner and 
                material; perhaps not coincidentally 
                it is the more fully convincing of the 
                two works on the disc. The opening allegro 
                is in sonata form, the first theme rhythmically 
                lively, the second more lyrical. There 
                are extended unaccompanied passages 
                for the soloist, which Domżal presents 
                persuasively. The very pleasant second 
                movement is based on the traditional 
                polish dance, the kujawiak. This 
                was a dance from central Poland, a simple 
                circling dance, slow and ceremonious. 
                The scholar Ada Dziewanowska (Polish 
                Folk Dances and Songs, 1999) describes 
                it as "reminiscent of the tall 
                grain stalks in the fields swaying gently 
                in the wind" – and such an image 
                might reasonably come into one’s mind 
                listening to this andante cantabile. 
                Orchestral storms intermittently threaten 
                the kujawiak, but its quiet dignity 
                finally triumphs. The closing movement 
                is a rustic sounding oberek, at some 
                moments almost melancholy, at others 
                very vigorous. This is a very interesting 
                concerto, of which I would like to hear 
                more performances. 
              
 
              
I happened to hear 
                Justine Verdier while on a visit to 
                her native France a year or two ago 
                and was very favourably impressed. She 
                is a young pianist of immense potential 
                – she was only seventeen 
                at the time of this recording and acquits 
                herself admirably. She studied with 
                Magin and her sympathy with his music 
                is evident here. Jaroslaw Domżal 
                is a somewhat more experienced soloist 
                (though he was only in his twenties 
                at the time of recording). He 
                plays with passion and a secure, full 
                tone, entirely in sympathy with the 
                ‘Polishness’ of this concerto. The orchestral 
                playing is perfectly adequate, while 
                falling slightly short of the highest 
                international standards. 
              
 
              
This is not music of 
                great originality, but it is well-written 
                in a rather old-fashioned manner. What 
                matters, of course, is that Magin is 
                being true to himself in writing in 
                the way he does, and the honesty of 
                the music shines through. The youthfulness 
                and relative inexperience of the performers 
                lends an entirely fitting innocence 
                to the music, itself free of doubts 
                or excessive self-awareness – such freedom 
                being both its strength and its limitation. 
              
Glyn Pursglove 
                 
              
see also review 
                by Jonathan Woolf
              
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