Leonard
Lehrman is a talented composer and performer (a conductor,
pianist and much else) in his own right; he has also done
a great deal to further the memory and reputation of a man
who was obviously one of his heroes – Marc Blitzstein. So
much so, that Leonard Bernstein dubbed him “Marc Blitzstein’s dybbuk”– though
he presumably didn’t intend to attribute to Lehrman the malice
usually associated with dybbuks, but merely to dramatise
the closeness of the musical association! Lehrman has completed
or adapted some twenty works by Blitzstein (including a number
of items on this CD); he edited – at the invitation of the
Blitzstein estate – the three volumes of The Marc Blitzstein
Songbook (1999-2003); 2005 saw the publication of his
authoritative study Marc Blitzstein: A Bio-bibliography (Greenwood
Press).
Blitzstein – who
was, of course, a considerable influence on Bernstein himself – worked
on, and across, the boundaries between ‘classical’ and ‘popular’ music
in ways that were frequently very stimulating. His earliest
work was often distinctly avant-garde and experimental;
he studied with both Schoenberg and Nadia Boulanger. But
he increasingly turned to the composition of music in the
service of – but not aesthetically limited by – his commitment
to a range of social causes. Much of his best work went into
a series of compositions for the musical theatre.
The
setting of Brooke – one of Blitzstein’s earliest art songs
- is persuasively sung by Helene Williams, and three of Blitzstein’s
intriguing settings of Whitman are given powerful performances
(transposed down) by Robert Osborne. The unexpected intervals
and sensitivity to text make these pieces which deserve to
be far better known.
Entertaining
in a very different way are the delightfully camp pieces ‘What’s
the Matter with Me?’ and ‘The Way You Are’, delivered by
Bill Castleman. ‘Hard to Say’ is a dialogue piece more striking
for its text than its music; it comes from Reuben Reuben,
described by Lehrman as an “unsuccessful urban folk opera
that opened and closed quickly in Boston in 1955”.
Some
of the best music comes in the extracts from Idiots First,
a one act opera based on a short story by Bernard Malamud,
which Blitzstein began in 1962. Bernstein undertook completion
of it, but then passed the task on to Lehrman. The resulting
score has been produced on four separate occasions. It is
to be hoped that one day there will be the chance to hear
a modern recording of the whole. Even more striking are the
extracts from Saccho and Vanzetti, a project
close to Blitzstein’s heart (and mind) on which he worked
for many years but never completed, though the Metropolitan
Opera took out an option on it in 1959. Lehrman – after no
less than 25 years of work on the surviving papers! – managed
to put on three semi-staged performances, with piano accompaniment,
as here, in 2001. There is some beautifully yearning music
in the ‘Torremaggiore-Villafalletto Trio’ and ‘With a Woman
To Be’ packs a considerable emotional punch. Surely a full
production will be mounted one day before too long? And recorded?
Please.
I’ve
Got the Tune, written for radio,
featured Blitzstein himself and Lotte Lenya, no less, when
it was first produced in October 1937. It is, to a degree,
quasi-autobiographical, its parable-like narrative containing
more than a few allusions to incidents in Blitzstein’s
own life. It is the story of a composer unable to find
words and singer for his tune. There is considerable satirical
wit and intelligence here, some shrewd satire and some
considerable poignancy.
The
CD closes with a remarkable find. It is a recording on which
Blitzstein performs his own song ‘The Nickel Under the Foot’;
Blitzstein first played this song for a prostitute for Bertolt
Brecht in 1936. It was at Brecht’s suggestion that the song
became the seed, as it were, from which grew Blitzstein’s
most fully-realised work, The Cradle Will Rock, a
work of which we do, at least, have satisfactory recordings.
It
would be dishonest not to admit that some of these performances
are less than perfect and that the recorded sound is not
always up to the highest standards. But it would also be
dishonest not to say that such qualifications do not seriously
distract from the worth of a fascinating collection of the
utterly distinctive – and still underrated – music of one
of twentieth-century music’s great individuals.
Glyn Pursglove
AVAILABILITY
Original
Cast Records