Arvo Pärt understandably has top billing for this stimulating
recital of 20th century organ works, but don’t be
deceived. If you are expecting a disc of spiritual reflectiveness
you will be in for a shock. Rautavaara’s Toccata opens
with a blistering fortissimo, and while the piece is
highly idiomatic for organ with plenty of flourishes and drama,
you will find tonal ambiguity, clusters and angularity, all
of which make for quite a demanding opening. His Laudatio
Trinitatis later on in the programme also opens powerfully,
the ‘Praise of the Trinity’ expressed in terms which are darkly
evocative rather than celebratory in the outer movements. The
more gentle upward reaching parallel chords of the central Et
Filii are reminiscent of early Messiaen. ‘That which is
from God’ or ta tou theou is a prizewinning work which
has its affiliations with Laudatio Trinitatis, and while
there are some pointers towards Messiaen’s influence Rautavaara’s
serial techniques create an entirely different overall effect.
This is a rugged and at times enigmatically mysterious landscape,
which makes spectacular demands on the performer.
Sofia Gubaidulina’s Hell und dunkel or ‘light and dark’
is another powerful work, which explores some fascinating sonorities
from the organ. Close intervals and dissonance are conjoined
with quasi-playful trills and runs, and dramatic gestures create
the effect of ripping holes in the air. Also using close intervals
but in an entirely different way, Arvo Pärt’s Mein Weg hat
Gipfel und Wellentäler also appears in an orchestral version
on excellent the ECM ‘In Principio’ album , and is a fairly
lively layering of material played at different speeds, a typical
and highly effective technique of Pärt’s, whose shifting patterns
create almost coincidental sounding harmonic relationships,
invariably transcending the mechanical initial conception and
structure. Trivium or ‘three ways’ has a medieval, plainsong
feel in what is in fact an original melody. This actual melodic
shape isn’t immediately apparent due to the register used in
the first section, but once the ear tunes in it appears from
within the texture of the ranging upper chords, strong in the
central section, and quieter again towards the end.
Annum per annum is another of Pärt’s works which creates
the atmosphere of medieval ritual, while simultaneously bringing
us music for our own time. The opening and conclusion are certainly
unexpected, the first a full blast of the organ and the last
a mighty crescendo on a single open interval, with the central
five movements a set of variations on the same material, the
letter names given as titles for each representing the Mass
sections to which they correspond. Pari Intervallo is
music pared-down to its essence: a progression which barely
moves, but still holding a mighty emotive power. Written on
the occasion of the death of a friend, it is a dark statement
which nonetheless holds out hope and a sense of eternity – its
position on the programme all the more poignant for being placed
directly before a work by a composer we have recently lost.
The final work is Henryk Górecki’s Kantata, described
in Christopher Bowers-Broadbent’s booklet notes as ‘tough and
uncompromising’. Long before the days of the famous ‘Symphony
of Sorrowful Songs’, Górecki was an avant-garde force to be
reckoned with, and this piece is a monumental, granite-like
work filled for the first four and penultimate five or so minutes
with block chords of impenetrable density. The central section
is one of low grumbles, the pedals drawing out portentous sonorities
which are relieved only momentarily by vocal comments from what
sounds like a bassoon stop. These low textures also conclude
the work, certainly leaving us sadder and possibly making us
wiser.
As ever with Kevin Bowyer’s performances this is a superbly
played programme, and the Nimbus recording is also vivid and
deep. Perhaps Pari Intervallo is a tad less elegant and
reflective than Bowers-Broadbent’s recording on ECM’s ‘Arbos’
album of Arvo Pärt’s music, but having all of these pieces together
on one disc is a useful idea, showing sides of the composer
both familiar and surprising.
Dominy Clements