Apologies for giving the game away from the
start, but this re-issue of a long-deleted recording of Ginastera’s
ballet scores, once available on Conifer Classics, is particularly
welcome. Not only do we hear the complete scores, but the performances
and the recording are really first-class, defying the use of
superlatives.
The suites drawn
from both ballets are quite well-known by now. I suspect that
many music-lovers know the suites from Eugene Goossens’ long-deleted
recordings made for Everest, coincidentally with the London
Symphony Orchestra. The complete scores, however, have long
remained unheard and – for that matter – unrecorded. A complete
Panambí has been recorded earlier by the Poznań
Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Andrzej Borejko (once available
on Largo 5122); but the present recorded performance undoubtedly
supersedes it. That said, the Polish performance usefully filled
a gap in Ginastera’s discography at the time it was recorded
and released. As far as Estancia is concerned,
this is the first recording of the complete score.
Panambí Op.1
was completed in 1937, and is thus Ginastera’s first acknowledged
work. In fact he later rescued some earlier works such as Impresiones
de la Puna for flute and string quartet and this has
been recorded on several occasions (BIS CD-175 and Dorian DOR-90202).
The libretto is based on a legend of love and magic drawn from
the traditions of the Guaraní Indians, a tribe from northern
Argentina. As such, parallels may be drawn with some works by
Latin-American composers, such as Revueltas, Chavez and Villa
Lobos. The music of Panambí draws on a number
of influences that may be quite easily spotted. One hears echoes
from Stravinsky, Debussy and Bartók but the complete score displays
the young composer’s assurance in blending these influences
into a highly personal whole. Moreover, there are many felicitous
orchestral touches such as the beautiful writing for horns in
Escena [track 5], the atmospheric introduction and the
superbly evocative closing section El Amanecer (“Dawn”),
as well as some brilliantly scored primitive dances. This tale
of magic and mystery obviously fired the young composer’s imagination,
and drew some highly accomplished music from him. A quite impressive
Opus 1, and a work of which any young composer could be proud.
Composed several
years later, Estancia Op.8 shows how far the composer
progressed over the years. The music is more personal, less
indebted to, say, Copland, although some might be tempted to
compare it to Rodeo. For one, the score is much
more structured than Copland’s colourful romp. It opens with
beautiful dawn music and ends with more dawn music. In between
come a series of songs and dances that provide welcome contrast.
The whole is brilliantly capped by a general dance, the celebrated
Malambo. The complete ballet includes parts narrated
and sung by a bass-baritone, which may be a reason why the score
has often been disregarded. Again, there are many fine orchestral
touches throughout this relatively long work. I particularly
like La Doma (“Rodeo”), the beautifully atmospheric and
evocative Idilio crepuscular (“Twilight Idyll”) and La
Noche: Nocturno (oh, those beautiful horns again!); but
there is so much more to enjoy. This is undoubtedly a major
score from Ginastera’s nationalistic period.
As mentioned earlier
in this review, these performances are just splendid and unlikely
to be surpassed. The London Symphony Orchestra play to the manner-born,
and Gisèle Ben-Dor conducts vital readings of these colourful,
rhythmically alert scores. At the same time she remains attentive
to the more lyrical sections and she conducts these with feeling
but without undue sentimentality. These scores and readings
teem with life-asserting energy, but never at the expense of
subtlety and refinement. This is a self-commending release restoring
– hopefully for a long time – these indispensable readings of
two of Ginastera’s most readily attractive scores.
Hubert Culot
see also Review
by Len Mullenger