The Campanella Musica label sets a fine standard of presentation
with their releases. It rejects the usual plastic jewel cases
for nicely made and sturdy card gatefolds in an approach which
reminds one of those uniquely distinctive Winter & Winter
publications. The only problem with my copy was a couple of very
rusty staples in the booklet.
The present disc
presents an interesting and attractive programme of concerto,
or concerto-like works for oboe and strings in the case of the
Ibert, and with the inclusion of harp for the other two works.
Frank Martin’s Trois
Danses was, as with all of the works on this disc, commissioned
by Paul Sacher, and with the oboist Heinz Holliger in mind as
soloist. It also has in common with Ibert’s Symphonie Concertante
a division of the strings into a solo quintet and a ripieno
group in the ‘concerto grosso’ tradition. The booklet notes
go into some detail with regard to Martin’s sources and solutions
to the problem of writing ‘pure music’, and the composer’s reasons
for employing certain rhythmic devices derived from flamenco,
among other things. Martin’s sophisticated but approachable
idiom remains uncompromised by the application of folkmusic-sourced
material however, and there is much here to remind one of the
seriousness of Martin’s series of ‘Ballades’. This is especially
true of the funereal slow central movement, but both outer movements
also possess that sinuous chromaticism for which I often find
myself returning to this composer. Even with movement titles
like ‘Rumba’, this is never allowed to become superficial dance
music.
Witold Lutosławski’s
Double Concerto is something of a harder nut to crack
than the Trois Danses. While maintaining a formal structure,
the work is characteristic of the composer’s pieces for this
period, in being a combination of aleatoric freedoms and strictly
composed and notated music. The aleatoric moments often occur
as rhythmically unstable fields of sound, united in tonality
with the through-composed sections, but providing maximum contrast
within the structural integrity of the music. Energetic impulses
in the opening movement jettison us into the dark chasm of the
second – a deep but remarkable trough in this reverse-arch form.
Lutosławski broadens his sound palette with the addition
of subtly used percussion, creating some magical effects against
the harp. The third movement is a ‘series of marches’ in a truly
anarchic and anti-heroic setting in which rhythmic regularity
is broken by the elegant harp and an unruly oboe. There is space
for a cadenza duet between the two soloists, who have the freedom
to choose the duration of this section themselves. With some
fascinating interactions and, to my ears, perfectly proportioned
selections within the ‘free’ parts of the score, this is a recording
and performance which should draw you back in a search for the
key to the work’s secrets.
Lutosławski’s
inscrutable humanism sits surprisingly well next to Jacques
Ibert’s Gallic urbanity. As previously mentioned, Ibert harks
back to the Baroque in having string soloists whose function
connects the tutti orchestra with the soloist, allowing both
spatial and textural flexibility. The punishing Allegro con
moto does expose one or two weaker moments in the otherwise
excellent Franz Liszt Chamber Orchestra, but it would be a tough
challenge to expect perfection from this tonal but relentlessly
modern idiom. The second movement is a moving Adagio ma non
troppo, which never allows the energy of the work to lapse
into sentimental romanticism. The final Allegro brillante
very much lives up to its marking, but including some of
that stirring counterpoint which seems a feature of music from
this period.
This fascinating trilogy
of concertos is served by an excellent recording in an attractively
resonant acoustic. None of these works are particularly staples
of the catalogue, and I’m afraid I have no comparisons to offer,
though the Lutosławski and Ibert do appear elsewhere. The
soloists on this recording are both to be congratulated on creating
true music from the demanding roles given to them by these masters
of the last century. While oboe sound can be a sensitive topic,
I much appreciate Hansjörg Schellenberger’s round and limpid tone,
as well as his impeccable intonation. This is a disc to treasure.
Dominy Clements