This is an interesting
programme of some unusual material.
None of these works are exactly thick
on the ground, but Marco Guidarini and
the Talent label have created an interestingly
themed programme. What these works do
share is evidence of the 19th
century’s artist’s interest in countries
beyond their own, something which is
enriched by a healthy list of other
examples in the booklet notes, about
whose unique qualities I shall be returning
later.
The Orchestre Philharmonique
de Nice has been in existence since
1945, and Marco Guidarini has been its
musical director since 2001. Nicely
intonated winds open Massenet’s Scènes
Alsaciennes, and with a pleasantly
– possibly even slightly over-resonant
acoustic, one can sit back and immediately
feel one is in safe hands. This work
is subtitled Souvenirs, and the
programmatic elements are clearly alluded
to in the titles of each of its four
movements. The first, Dimanche matin,
alternates rustic charm with some piously
gentle chorale-like passages. Later
there is dancing and dialogue, tender
allusions to lovers in the park and
the distant dangers of war: the whole
thing has a Smetana/Dvořák-meets-Beethoven-in-the-Tuilleries
feel, and very attractive and enjoyable
it is too.
Gustave Charpentier,
not to be confused with Marc-Antoine,
was a pupil of Massenet, winning the
Prix de Rome in 1887 and making his
name with the opera Louise. The
Impressions d’Italie begins with
over two minutes of the cello section
alone, acting as an introduction to
a rather beautiful Sérénade.
As with the Massenet, the piece has
descriptive titles, with descriptions
of scenes such as A la fontaine and
Sur les cimes, each exploring
a wide spectrum of orchestral colouration.
The substance of this relatively long
work is often extended by lengthy ostinato
developments, but with numerous subtle
effects these only occasionally seem
to outstay their welcome. The finale,
Napoli, is a lively depiction
of elegant cosmopolitanism, with nice
some nice layering of multiple tunes,
and the orchestral tone enriched by
the inclusion of harp, percussion, and
some superb wind writing.
Camille Saint-Saëns
regularly spent time in warmer climes
due to his fragile health, and the attractions
of Algeria are depicted in his Suite
Algérienne. The opening Prélude
is very much an ‘arrival by boat’,
with an evocation of the sense of wonder
as increasing delights are revealed.
The entire work is a reminder of Saint-Saëns’
skill as an orchestrator, and with the
Rhapsodie Mauresque he masterfully
depicts exotic folk music. Rêverie
de soir has one of those deceptively
simple melodies, introduced by a viola
solo, and passed from winds to strings
thereafter. It falls somewhere between
a waltz and a Sicilienne in its lilting
and poetic movement. The final ‘military
march’ is in fact quiet a vigorous and
lively movement, with joyous political
incorrectness referring to the French
colonization of Algeria by France.
This is an excellent
disc, full of approachable, off-the-beaten-track
music collected, I suspect, for the
first time in one place. The orchestral
playing is very good indeed, and the
SACD recording is spacious, richly dynamic,
and an invitation for repeat playing
just to enjoy that gorgeous sound. I
have but one criticism, which takes
the form of a strong suggestion to the
producers of the Talent label’s booklets:
please, for goodness sake, employ a
native speaker to translate or at the
very least proofread the notes. It’s
not expensive, I know, I do that kind
of work often enough. I can’t speak
for the other languages, but the English
text in this booklet, while potentially
informative, is a hopeless mishmash
of mixed tenses, strange spelling and
bizarre sentences. It’s a shame to spoil
the ship for a hap’orth of tar, so please,
next time…?
Dominy Clements