Firstly, I guess that the name and the music of Gian Francesco 
                Malipiero are little known in the general run of classical music 
                appreciation - especially in the United Kingdom and the USA. Secondly, 
                based on this first volume of Symphonies, I believe that 
                listeners will be pleasantly surprised at what appears to be a 
                great symphonic cycle that is just waiting to be (re)discovered. 
                It seems ironic that such music as this can have remained in relative 
                obscurity for so many years. I understand that this series was 
                released on the Marco Polo label some 15 years ago – but I imagine 
                that many people, me included, will have missed them first time 
                around.
                
A few words about 
                  Malipiero’s career will not go amiss. He was born in Venice 
                  in 1883 to a musical family; his grandfather was the opera composer 
                  Francesco Malipiero. However, family problems prevented the 
                  young Gian from having a consistent musical education. After 
                  a period in the Vienna Conservatoire he had some composition 
                  lessons with Marco Enrico Bossi. Unfortunately he was forced 
                  to spend time studying on his own. Much of this self-study involved 
                  perusal of the scores of Monteverdi and Frescobaldi. This deep 
                  understanding of this these (then) largely forgotten works was 
                  to lead the composer to a great interest in historical Italian 
                  music- it was an interest that was to yield great fruit in later 
                  years. Malipiero attended a number of lectures by Max Bruch 
                  in Berlin between 1910 and 1911 and was later to come under 
                  the spell of Debussy, Stravinsky and Casella. Interestingly 
                  he was largely ambivalent about the Austro-Germanic tradition: 
                  his definition of ‘symphony’ was markedly different to that 
                  of Mahler, Bruckner and other post-romantic composers.
                
One anecdote about 
                  the composer’s younger days repays telling. In 1913 he won four 
                  composition prizes at the Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia 
                  in Rome by the rather dubious precedent of submitting five different 
                  works under five different names.
                
It is difficult 
                  to place Malipiero in context as his music is not generally 
                  known to a British audience. But for the record, Malipiero himself 
                  suggested that his Pause del Silenzio for the orchestra 
                  (1917), his Rispetti e Strambotti for chamber ensemble, 
                  (1920) and L'Orfeide for the stage (1918, 1922) are amongst 
                  his best works. Few would doubt that the symphonies are his 
                  crowning achievements. But other contenders for the palm are 
                  the Fourth String Quartet (1934) - he wrote eight - his 
                  chamber opera Sette canzoni (1920) and the First Violin 
                  Concerto (1932). All these works await rediscovery.
                
In addition to his 
                  work as a composer, Malipiero was to devote much time to teaching 
                  at the Venice Liceo Musicale and the Parma Conservatory. One 
                  of his star students was Luigi Nono. He wrote a number of books 
                  including studies of Stravinsky and Vivaldi. Yet perhaps the 
                  greatest debt that musicians and listeners owe to Malipiero 
                  is his work as an editor. He produced a complete edition of 
                  Monteverdi’s compositions and latterly edited many of Vivaldi’s 
                  concertos. Additionally he produced performing editions of music 
                  by Galuppi, Tartini and Stradella.
                
It is very difficult 
                  to describe Malipiero’s music. For one thing it is hard to relate 
                  their sound-world to that of other composers. One is reminded 
                  of the late Elvis Presley when asked who he sang like. His immortal 
                  reply was “I don’t sing like no-one”. And the same can be said 
                  of Malipiero. Certainly there are hints of Stravinsky and Debussy 
                  in many passages. But when one starts hearing Charles Ives, 
                  Edward Elgar and Ottorino Respighi it is perhaps time to give 
                  up and allow the man to speak for himself.
                
Unfortunately, most 
                  scholars declare that Malipiero’s music is quite uneven in its 
                  quality. Woodhouse, in the sleeve-notes, declares that “all 
                  [his] works deserve far more attention than they nowadays usually 
                  receive … despite the undeniable, disconcerting unevenness of 
                  his huge output”. But any artist has an inalienable right to 
                  be understood by his best works. Malipiero is generally regarded 
                  as a great composer when judged by these standards. Dallapiccola 
                  once stated that Malipiero was “the most important musical personality 
                  that Italy had since the death of Verdi”.
                
He was to destroy 
                  much of his music written before 1914; however the Sinfonia 
                  del mare (1906) is one that has survived that cull. It is 
                  a very good place to begin an exploration of his music. This 
                  work is usually regarded as more ‘symphonic poem’ than a ‘classic’ 
                  symphony. This is the composer’s Sea Symphony – although 
                  it is a far cry from that of Vaughan Williams! Even a superficial 
                  hearing will suggest Debussy’s La Mer. However it is 
                  unlikely that the Malipiero could have heard that piece when 
                  he wrote the present piece only a few months after the premiere 
                  of the Frenchman’s great work. Fundamentally, this ‘Sinfonia’ 
                  is a musical representation of the changes and chances and moods 
                  of the Adriatic as seen (probably) from the Lagoon. It is a 
                  lovely work that will present few problems to listeners.
                
The Third Symphony 
                  was composed in 1944-45. Malipiero has written about this work 
                  that it was “connected to a terrible date, 8 September 1943 
                  when the bells of St Mark’s Cathedral did not ring for peace 
                  but to announce new torments, new suffering.” The reason for 
                  this, the composer said, was that “the Germans had invaded Italy. 
                  I heard the sound of their steps, of their heavy boots announcing 
                  death and martyrdom. The bells cancelled all that: they created 
                  a special state of mind. Here is my Third Symphony written 
                  at one of the most terrible times.” Malipiero closes his thoughts 
                  on this work by asking, “Have you ever heard, from the lagoons, 
                  Venice all vibrating with bells? She becomes a huge musical 
                  instrument.”.
                
The work is in four 
                  movements with the ‘scherzo’ placed after the slow movement. 
                  From the first bar to the last the listener is aware of the 
                  ringing of bells – either explicitly or implicitly; it is the 
                  work’s leitmotiv. Listen out for some delicious sonorities in 
                  the slow movement: the composer makes excellent use of the piano, 
                  creating a kind of gamelan-like soundscape. But it is the rather 
                  obtuse ‘scherzo’ that stole the show for me in this piece. Novel 
                  use of instruments and a lopsided formal construction do nothing 
                  to lessen the fact that this is a minor masterpiece of orchestral 
                  writing.
                
I have listened, 
                  carefully to this Symphony twice. On the one hand it 
                  is a work that can be appreciated on a one-off hearing, yet 
                  I believe that this is music that only reveals its delights 
                  and depths with application and repeated hearing which may not 
                  be realistic to expect from the majority of listeners. There 
                  is great beauty in these pages, as well contemplative moments 
                  and even intimations of darkness. Yet, for all that, this is 
                  an optimistic work.
                
The Fourth Symphony 
                  is subtitled ‘in memoriam’. It is dedicated to Natalie Koussevitzky, 
                  the wife of the great conductor. As an aside Peter Grimes 
                  was also dedicated to this lady, as were a number of other compositions.
                
The first movement 
                  is a touch ‘eccentric’ and I guess that it is a little imbalanced. 
                  There is a lot of energy here, and much of the music seems a 
                  little ‘rough cut.’ Waterhouse is right when he states that 
                  ‘a two bar refrain for trombones, tuba and bassoon interposes 
                  itself three times “into the music’s flow like some rough and 
                  knobbly obstacle”. However the slow movement is perfect. It 
                  is the heart of the work and is ‘elegiac’ in mood. This is not 
                  easy music to listen to. Sometimes there is a harshness that 
                  may seem alien to music designed to be ‘in memory’ of a friend.
                
The ‘scherzo’ is 
                  hardly as impressive as that of the Third Symphony, although 
                  it is a relief after the intensity of the slow movement. There 
                  is much energy here and the dissonance suggests vitality rather 
                  than violence. The last movement is an interesting set of variations 
                  on a theme ‘salvaged from Malipiero’s early, repudiated one-act 
                  opera Canossa (1911-12). It is the most accomplished 
                  part of this Symphony. My first reaction is that it lacks 
                  unity, and that for an elegiac work it is devoid of warmth. 
                  It is only in the last pages that I sense hope and optimism. 
                  But I guess that this was the composer’s intention.
                
Fundamentally, this 
                  is a great CD. I know that I missed out on this music the first 
                  time around – and I regret this. These are great, if somewhat 
                  idiosyncratic works that well deserve attention and study. I 
                  am not an authority on Italian music from any century – but 
                  I guess that symphonic cycles of the magnitude of Gian Francesco 
                  Malipiero’s are few and far between. And to discover a series 
                  of works that are great music, inspiring, beautiful and thoroughly 
                  enjoyable is a great thing. I hope that Naxos quickly releases 
                  the remaining symphonies and other orchestral works as soon 
                  as possible.
                
              
I should add that 
                the playing by the Moscow Symphony Orchestra and their conductor 
                Antonio de Almeida is stimulating. To my mind, they are great 
                advocates of Malipiero’s music. The programme notes by John C.G. 
                Waterhouse are informative, well written and essential reading. 
                Bear in mind that there is little other information to assist 
                listeners.
              
 John France