First Edition’s
reissue programme continues with their splendid Persichetti
release. It opens with the Fifth Serenade, written in 1950,
one of fifteen such works in this form that he was to write
throughout his compositional life. It’s a concise, ten-minute,
six-movement work strong on teaky
lower string sonorities and rather bluffly vigorous. As no single
movement much exceeds two minutes compression and incident are
the names of the game – from the light, freewheeling Interlude,
full of jollity, to the more concentrated expression of the
wind passages in the penultimate Dialogue. The finale is a tangy
folkloric Burla.
Of rather greater significance to his canon
however are the two symphonies; the Fifth (Symphony for Strings),
which was written in 1953 and the Eighth which followed fourteen
years later. There is unavoidable high-level hiss on the master
tapes of the Fifth, taped in 1954, which is otherwise recorded
rather closely. The angularly agitated opening viola theme lies
behind the whole single movement – though multi-partite – symphony.
Its success lies in its formal conception, in a mastery of long-term
structural goals derived from a short seed and in the sense
of inevitability with which Persichetti
commands his material. Whitney certainly catches its tangible
sense of nervousness and anxiety and brings forth the string
choir entries in the adagio section with commendable acuity.
Where the angularity develops a particular charge – in the Andante
pages – we similarly find Whitney fully in control. And so too
in the somewhat neo-classically dissonant shape of the whole,
as exemplified by the charging and successful Allegro summation
– touches of the Mahlerian not excluded.
It’s undeniable that whilst the conception is solid, the performance
falls somewhat short of ideal. The sections do sometimes lack
unanimity of attack and the strings fail really to sing out
when it’s most needed. Nevertheless the actual perception underlying
Whitney’s 1954 recording is undoubtedly superior to anyone else’s
– certainly to the Philadelphia/Muti, whose executant standards
naturally are commensurately higher than the Louisville’s.
The Eighth Symphony
was recorded under Mester in 1970.
It’s four-movement work not far short of the half-hour mark
in length. Tonal, grave but with moments of lucid lightness
it’s constructed with all the composer’s
accustomed sagacity. A vein of neo-classical elegance balances
turbulent, brassy and percussive moments. Even the slow movement,
which has genuine warmth, evinces a somewhat patrician sounding
reserve. The Allegretto is decidedly brusque. But the finale
witnesses a certain falling off of intensity – it’s still propulsive
and full of brass dynamism but it’s not as tightly coiled as
one finds elsewhere. The playing under Mester
is certainly good but that finale in particular might work better
if taken with a tighter grip.
The original liner
notes are reprinted – always a feature of these Louisville
reissues – and standards remain admirably high in this welcome
series.
Jonathan Woolf
see also Review
by Rob Barnett
Louisville
