Americans like their Wild Men and Bad Boys. They like, in theory,
Ornstein and Antheil though it’s an affection usually more honoured
in the breach. Still, some excellent recordings have been made
of late devoted to the works of both men, and this one is no exception.
Antheil is by far the more recorded and in passing let me give
a plug to the amazing ‘Antheil plays Antheil’ on OM1003-04; a
two CD set of incredible rarities and eccentricities, home recorded
and otherwise.
As for Ornstein some of his piano works have been very well presented
by
Janice
Weber – she also joins the Lydian Quartet in chamber works
on New World NW80509 - and by
Marc-André
Hamelin, though these are getting on for eight years old now,
amazingly. This is hardly a complete survey but they are amongst
the most easy to find examples of Ornstein’s music. And now New
World popularises its man again with this latest release of the
complete works for cello and piano.
The futurist and lone furrow-plougher is a fascinating case study,
musically speaking. The 1929-30 Preludes – there are six – are
highly expressive examples of his art, and range from moody introversion
to pretty much overt hints of Stravinsky and Prokofiev (try the
third, a Presto). He mines a rich seam of sombre recitation as
well – the fourth and fifth don’t give up their secrets easily
– but dallies in quasi-folkloric pathways in the final Prelude.
The undated Composition 1 for cello and piano wears a necessarily
utilitarian title but is shrouded in Kol Nidrei and Russian mourning
apparel.
Whereas the First Sonata we can date precisely to 1915. It’s in
four movements. It’s quite ‘traditional’ sounding for him, with
intense lyricism and powerful chromaticism at work through its
bloodstream, even to the extent of evoking Rachmaninov. There’s
a cantorial undertow to the slow movement, tolling and yearning
– he was deep down a nostalgic as well as a futurist and fusing
the two was his art’s work. The scherzo fizzes in its outer sections
enclosing a repetitive and self-absorbed B theme, whilst the finale
reverts to lyricism before ending speculatively and quietly. This
is a fine sonata, and will prove unexpectedly so to those who
only know the more extrovert examples of his work.
The Two Pieces for cello and piano are brief indeed, and were
written before 1914 and could well be song transcriptions. But
the disc ends with the second sonata, composed around 1920. It’s
possible that two other movements exist, or existed, possibly
in torso, and that the planned three movement sonata never materialised
because of the pressure of work. The surviving movement was once
described as a ‘Rhapsody’ but Ornstein preferred the nomenclature
sonata so sonata it is. It was first performed, privately, by
Hans Kindler. Again we find the lyric-Hebraic in the ascendant.
The piano’s richly chorded playing offers ripe, revealing and
occasionally Rachmaninovian support, whilst the cello spins a
succulent lyric line. The long, intense andante section turns
quickly into a Chassidic dance scherzo, then back to the elastic
lyricism and some ‘earnest Hebraic’ writing, if I can phrase it
thus.
Are people put off by Ornstein’s reputation, such as it is? There
are abrasive works – some of the piano works don’t exactly cry
out to be loved – but his cello works offer far more explicitly
romantic pleasures. If you cleave to the melancholy-lyric models
alluded to above don’t overlook these appealing works. Not least
because they’re beautifully played by Joshua Gordon and Randall
Hodgkinson and a great deal of preparatory and editorial work
has clearly gone into the making of it. Mechanics Hall, Worcester,
Massachusetts proves an excellent recording location. Once again
New World hits all the right notes with this release.
Jonathan Woolf