Świder was
born in Czechowice, Upper Silesia, in 1930. He studied in Katowice
and later with Petrassi in Rome, subsequently returning to teach
composition at his old college for many years. He has been very
active as composer, pedagogue, and jury member and more generally
in the propagation of Polish choral music. His most admired
works include operas such as Magnus and Wit Stwosz,
neither of which I’ve heard but his choral works also occupy
an exemplary place in modern Polish music. They are shorn of
artifice and dogma, utterly repudiating the isms, and schisms,
that marked much post-War Polish music. It’s wholly approachable,
broadly diatonic, richly romantic, and neither ascetic nor pious.
It’s hard to tell from the outside but it also sounds like an
involving and rewarding sing even when, as here, many of his
liturgical pieces are so compact – the well named Missa minima
for example lasts only four and a half minutes; and that’s one
of the longer ones in this selection.
Ave Maria
and Pater noster from 1985-86 may be better known in
Poland than abroad but the 1980s also saw the flourishing of
his interest in smaller forms of liturgical music. Most of the
pieces here are undated but they all seem to have been written
after 1980. Requiem aeternam was definitely written
in 1996.
The Polski Chór
Kameralny under Jan Łukaszewski sounds a compact body and
performs with understanding generosity. They bring a suitably
joyful and affirmative belief to Jubilate Deo with its
freewheeling organ part – the tissue of elation solidly rooted
in romantic procedures. Świder attempts to bring a prayerful
truthfulness to bear in his compositions. The Gregorian seems
to lie behind Wierzę (Credo) where the chant brings its own very
personal sense of identification, before growing ever richer,
ever more burnished. This is one of the few pieces to sound
obviously Polish. Quick speech rhythms animate Czego chcesz
od nas Panie and appropriately so as the texts derives from
a poem by the sixteenth century writer Jan Kochanowski. But
Świder also writes something like the highly unusual Requiem
aeternam which is drenched in folk speech and patterns and
moves with decisive direction.
The big work here
is the Te Deum, though even so the ten movements are
still only nineteen minutes in length. Here the organ is augmented
by percussion and by two solo voices and choir. The opening
is a dramatic flourish utilising the percussion. We can hear
how adroitly Świder utilises registration and colour to
bring a sense of limpidity and reflection to the music (Pleni
sunt caeli) or can vest the soprano solo with more expressive
weight and shape, as in Te gloriosus. The baritone solo
in Judex crederis is suitably nobly grained. One
also notes how spare some of the writing can be and how the
more troubled movements contrive still to bear considerable
weight of expression.
The works are recorded
closely so as to minimise the echo in St Nikolai, Gdansk – only
really apparent as the notes die away at the end of the Te
Deum. Świder’s direct and honest voice is an illuminating
and warm one – admirers of, say, Gerald Finzi’s early choral
works will find no sharp corners here; on the contrary, plenty
to enjoy.
Jonathan Woolf