Both these symphonies were new to me, and 
                  the composers almost were. I'd never even heard of Staehle, 
                  and the only Burgmüller I'd previously heard was some ballet 
                  music that Richard Bonynge recorded years ago. The booklet represents 
                  both composers as part of a "Kassel School", trained 
                  in composition by Louis Spohr during his stint as court conductor 
                  and opera director in that city, from 1822 to 1857. 
                    
                  This is also beautiful stuff. Some people will call it "derivative" 
                  - there are clear echoes of Mendelssohn and Schumann, and the 
                  shadow of Beethoven hangs over everything. But if we hear the 
                  period's higher-profile composers in this music, that's simply 
                  because their music is already familiar to us, and this music 
                  isn't. Besides, the quest for originality is very much a modernist 
                  fetish; nineteenth-century composers weren't expected to reinvent 
                  the wheel with each new creation. So don't judge the music - 
                  just enjoy it. 
                    
                  
Burgmüller's symphony certainly sounds more substantial 
                  than did those ballets. In the first movement, the themes aren't 
                  really distinctive, but the composer's use of the orchestra 
                  is striking: even the quieter passages - in the slow introduction, 
                  for example - always sound fully fleshed-out. The 
Adagio, 
                  with its segmented phrases, is simple and wistful; a few episodes 
                  of brief turbulence - the longest, at 3:33, introduced by peremptory 
                  horn fanfares - don't prove serious. The rambunctious, volatile 
                  
Scherzo, punctuated with Beethovenian eruptions, unexpectedly 
                  scales down to a baby-hunting-horn Trio. The 
Finale's 
                  edgy, dramatic first theme, unfortunately, is too quickly allowed 
                  to bang away in 
tutti. The woodwinds' airy second subject 
                  provides a respite, spinning out more expansively on its reappearances; 
                  still, the overall effect remains bombastic. 
                    
                  The first influence we hear in the 
Hugo Staehle symphony 
                  isn't Germanic at all: the dark, ominous unison of horns, bassoons, 
                  and clarinets, answered by tremolos, is straight out of early 
                  Verdi! The tremolos continue to feature prominently in the 
Presto 
                  proper, where the first subject suggests Mendelssohn's more 
                  dramatic side. The oboe's broad contrasting theme seems static, 
                  but proves useful in the development, where bits of it are layered 
                  with the whirling accompaniment figures from the first group. 
                  The 
Adagio cantabile begins with a sweet chorale intoned 
                  by the strings. As the woodwinds take up the theme with string 
                  support, the textures gradually fill out, with a nice interplay 
                  of colors as woodwind strands weave in and out of the string-based 
                  sonorities. Harmonic shifts bring an unexpected note of disquiet, 
                  and later restore serenity. Short upbeat motifs give the 
Scherzo 
                  its forward-pushing impulse; the cheerful Trio, introduced by 
                  a little horn-and-clarinet fanfare - did Spohr give both composers 
                  this idea? - climaxes in a blaze of glory. The short, turbulent 
                  opening motif of the 
Finale segues smoothly into a tender 
                  clarinet melody. The development's homophonic wind phrases, 
                  in their dotted rhythm, recall Schumann's 
Spring Symphony. 
                  A diminished seventh chord abruptly stops the forward motion, 
                  after which the music turns slower and more chorale-like, tapering 
                  to a quiet yet full-toned conclusion. 
                    
                  Marc Piollet, the principal conductor of the Kassel State Theatre, 
                  provides sympathetic leadership, maintaining rhythmic buoyancy 
                  through the turbulent passages. He elicits beautiful sounds 
                  from the theatre's orchestra, a tremendous improvement on the 
                  scrappy ensembles that once documented such repertoire on Genesis, 
                  Vox, and other LP labels. The dark, burnished tone of the string 
                  body is particularly attractive; the violin sections aren't 
                  huge, but their playing is clean and unanimous in exposed passages 
                  - try 5:23 of Burgmüller's 
Adagio. 
                    
                  The engineering is good enough that I wish it were better. Most 
                  of the time, there's a lovely depth and warmth; but the full 
                  orchestra acquires a hard edge when the brass dominate - underlining 
                  Burgmüller's over-use of the 
tutti in his Finale - and 
                  sounds congested when they don't. 
                    
                  One wonders why we don't hear this sort of music in concert. 
                  The Burgmüller's finale mightn't wear well, but most of what 
                  precedes it is fetching, and the Staehle is simply lovely. Are 
                  we so jaded that we can't appreciate well-crafted, expressive 
                  music unless it's by the acknowledged greats? So much the worse 
                  for us, then. 
                    
                  
Stephen Francis Vasta
                  
                  see also review by Rob 
                  Barnett