Rued LANGGAARD (1893-1952)
The Symphonies (see end of review for track-listing)
Inger Dam-Jensen (soprano); Johan Reuter (baritone); Lars Petersen (tenor);
Per Salo (piano); Danish National Choir; Danish National Vocal Ensemble; Danish
National Symphony Orchestra/Thomas Dausgaard
rec. August 1998-June 2008, Danish Radio Concert Hall, Copenhagen, Denmark
DACAPO 6.200001 [7 SACDs: 60:30 + 65:43 + 57:31 + 56:54 + 53:35 + 63:41
+ 61:43]
Hearing Langgaard’s Music of the Spheres for the first time -
review
- not to mention Thomas Dausgaard’s marvellous 2012 BBC Prom performance
of Symphony No. 11 convinced me of two things: this composer’s indecent
- if frustrating - originality and this conductor’s affinity for his
music. Recorded over a decade, the works in this sumptuous Dacapo box were
released individually to wide acclaim. It’s not the only cycle available;
Ilya Stupel and the Artur Rubinstein Philharmonic recorded seven volumes for
Danacord in 1990/91, a set much praised by John France in 2001 (review).
Born into a distinguished musical family, Langgaard set himself against the
somewhat dour Danish musical establishment with his search for a Romantic/Symbolist
idiom. CD 1 is devoted to his First Symphony, premiered - and well
received - in Germany just before the Great War. Despite its bucolic title
nothing quite prepares one for the Straussian surge and Brucknerian amplitude
that characterises this exuberant work. As for the full-bodied, thrustful
playing it’s first-rate, and Dausgaard proves a steady steersman, most
notably in those frequent perorations which, in lesser hands, could so easily
seem otiose.
There’s magic in this symphony, the gentle mood of the second movement,
‘Mountain Flowers’, wonderfully sustained. Textures are surprisingly
varied and there are few signs of impending stasis, which is remarkable in
such a youthful opus. One might be tempted to invoke Sibelius in the third
movement, ‘Legend’, or Strauss in the craggy climb of the fourth,
but Langgaard is obstinately original in his means and methods. Only in the
rambling finale, ‘Courage’, does the symphony succumb to an element
of doggedness and a degree of opacity; that said, any misgivings are swept
away by a truly majestic coda that threatens to overbalance but never does.
CD 2 contains the Second and Third symphonies, completing what has
been dubbed the composer’s first, youthful phase; his symphonic forms
are still broadly traditional and, in this first version of Vårbrud
especially, there’s an almost classical symmetry to the writing. Even
so, the splendid brass and timp flourishes are as Romantically inclined as
ever, with a dash of Korngoldian spray for good measure. Contrast that with
the lyric inwardness of the second movement, whose marking ‘religioso
quasi adagio’ is sensitively interpreted. This is music - and music-making
- of rare beauty and line that briefly sets this composer apart from the crowd.
The maddening thing with Langgaard is that fine writing jostles with music
that’s much less impressive. Take the strange third movement of the
Second, where the add-on soprano Inger Dam-Jensen combines necessary reach
with a somewhat distracting vibrato. Not an entirely convincing work then,
but it has some stand-out moments. As for the Third Symphony, it’s essentially
a piano concerto whose lusty choral part brings Busoni to mind. Despite playing
of commendable impetuosity and sparkle it’s hard to escape the sense
that it’s all rather aimless; as always there are some fine passages,
but not even Dausgaard and that heart-racing finale can disguise the work’s
waywardness.
It seems fitting that the Third Symphony should be subtitled ‘Flush
of Youth’, for it marks the end of Langgaard’s first ‘phase’;
the next encompasses the rather more rigorous Fourth and Fifth symphonies.
‘Fall of the Leaves’ has strength and sinew, its terseness tempered
with rare episodes of striking luminosity. Should we infer a programme here?
I’m not sure it’s helpful, for the symphony’s many linked
sections suggest internal rigour and structural ambition rather than naive
pictorialism. Even the three-minute Tranquillo eschews simple charm for a
somewhat more gnarly appeal.
Bluff would be a good description of these two symphonies. The Fifth is given
here in both its original and revised versions. They make for a fascinating
comparison, the earlier score’s softer edges supplanted by something
more bracing and direct later on. Those jaunty, recurring climaxes in the
first movement are a case in point; it’s as if Langgaard has taken a
solvent to his canvas and revealed the vivid colours and firm brush strokes
beneath the diffusing grime. As Danish Fifths go, both are suitably imposing,
and Dausgaard’s persuasive readings give them real stature and strength.
Not as sophisticated or polished as Nielsen’s or Sibelius’s towering
examples perhaps, but engaging nonetheless.
CD 4 covers Langgaard’s third phase, from 1925 to 1945, and encompasses
the Sixth, Seventh and Eighth symphonies. At the outset one is struck by the
inwardness of the Sixth and its lightness of touch. Dacapo’s Super Audio
recording is very impressive indeed, bringing out the transparency of the
score’s quiet passages as well as the rude irruptions of brass and timps.
At times there’s a more than a hint of controlled Ivesian chaos in the
writing, which makes ‘The Heaven-Rending’ a thoroughly entertaining
- and occasionally unsettling - listen.
The Seventh Symphony, given here in its revised version, certainly has moments
of tremendous swing and energy - not to mention thrilling perorations - but
some may find the overall effect rather opaque at first. Despite its Romantic
roots there’s none of the heart-on-sleeve appeal one might expect here.
Instead we’re confronted with an understated, pleasingly shaped work
whose many felicities don’t reveal themselves on first acquaintance.
As for the Eighth, which includes a tenor soloist and chorus, it has a ceremonial
swagger that’s well caught by the deep, sonorous recording.
Indeed, when it comes to invention the Eighth is the most delightful offering
so far; moreover, the often arm’s-length nature of the earlier symphonies
is replaced with something altogether more genial and carefree. The choral
singing is both animated and incisive, a thrilling counterpart to the strange
brass punctuations. Where the Third just slides into bombast at this point
the vocal contributions here - including that of tenor Lars Petersen - bring
real surge and splendour to the piece. Odd as this may sound, if you like
Haydn this good-natured music is sure to please.
We’re at the end of phase three in CD 5, which kicks off with
the Ninth Symphony, subtitled ‘From Queen Dagmar’s City’.
It shares with the Eighth a buoyant mood, an generosity of spirit if you will,
that really shines through in the freewheeling first movement. The humour
and point of the second movement is pure delight, and the playing is as deft
as one could wish. This is Langgaard at his most accessible, craft and content
in a pleasing equilibrium. The bells of the third movement are a surprising
turn, and the finale is imbued with a gentle, beaming charm that’s utterly
beguiling.
The single-movement Tenth, ‘The Hall of Thunder’, is altogether
more trenchant and has some of the strangest sonorities yet heard on this
set. Now this piece really does beckon us into Nordic folklore, although
any overt programme is tempered by writing of familiar rigour and added instrumental
virtuosity. A tad unrelenting, perhaps, but I daresay new listeners will be
entranced by the boldness and brio of the piece. As with all the symphonies
in this phase, the Tenth is relatively short, although the eternally spinning
Ixion’s wheel of the Eleventh Symphony lasts barely six-and-a-half minutes.
Dausgaard’s performance of the piece at this year’s Proms went
down a storm, the six tubas outrageous and off-the-wall but undeniably entertaining.
CD 6 takes us into the fourth and final phase of Langgaard’s
life, from 1946 until his death in 1952. At just over seven minutes the Twelfth
Symphony, ‘Hélsingeborg’, is as pithy as its immediate
predecessor. The Danish orchestra are as committed as ever, even if the opening
could have been tidier. There are vestiges of that earlier openness, but is
it fanciful to sense a drawing down of blinds at this point? The Thirteenth,
with its intriguing subtitle ‘Belief in Wonders’, is much more
conventional in construction and length, yet it has flashes of the easeful
Langgaard - perhaps more wistful this time - that infuses the Seventh, Eighth
and Ninth symphonies.
His late works are certainly assured, and the Thirteenth has a haunting quality
that I found most affecting. This isn’t a composer who induces such
sentiments elsewhere, and I suspect in lesser hands the piece wouldn’t
seem as heartfelt as it does here. The Fourteenth, ‘Morning’,
with its stirring choral start, is simply splendid. Indeed, I was reminded
of that mighty greeting to the dawn at the end of Schönberg’s Gurre-lieder,
such is the blaze of sound Dausgaard gets from his singers and players. That
said, in the second movement Langgaard modulates into something rather more
reticent - otherworldly, even - in which the orchestra play with chamber-like
concentration and delicacy. This is music of Mahlerian farewell, superbly
performed and recorded; and while it’s not quite the summation it appears,
it’s certainly the most serene and lovely writing here.
As with so many sets of this nature the final disc - CD 7 - is a bit
of a hotchpotch. The last two symphonies - Nos. 15 and 16 - get strong, muscular
performances; the former, subtitled ‘Sea Storm’, is considerably
enlivened by parts for bass baritone and male chorus. Frankly the piece needs
some help, for it strays into the doldrums far too often. It’s hardly
the strongest of Langgaard’s symphonies, but it’s not bereft of
all colour and excitement, especially in the turbulent, gong-splashed finale.
Soloist Johan Reuter is firm and sonorous and the wide dynamics of the recording
are especially welcome in the choral climaxes.
There’s renewed heat and vigour in the Sixteenth Symphony, teasingly
titled ‘Sun Deluge’, even if it’s a tad overbearing. There’s
a degree of brashness too, which is quite invigorating at first but soon palls.
No, as a final utterance No. 14 strikes me as much the finest of Langgaard’s
last symphonies; as well played as Nos. 15 and 16 are, their incipient banality
is likely to be something of a turn-off for newcomers to these works. Loath
to end on anything resembling a bum note, I’m happy to say the elegy
to Grieg has a dark splendour, Sphinx a glorious inscrutability and
Res Absurdia?! a manic countenance that’s more likely to appeal
to explorers of this dippy Dane’s odd but invigorating œuvre.
Langgaard fans probably own the individual releases already, but even so the
solid quality of this box is very tempting indeed. Those who merely wish to
sample this often infuriating music won’t be keen to splash out on the
entire set; I’d suggest Nos. 7,
8, 9
and 14
are Langgaard’s most impressive symphonies, and the ones I will return
to most often. Oh, and don’t forget to try Music of the Spheres
too (Dacapo;
Chandos).
Some of these SACDs predate the advent of Super Audio recording, but with
very few exceptions the sound quality here is first-rate. The discs are housed
in half-sleeves anchored to the box; this is rather irksome, as one has to
grasp the edge of the playing surface to slide them out.
Music of near genius, quirk and quiddity; this bumper set has it all.
Dan Morgan
http://twitter.com/mahlerei
Music of near genius, quirk and quiddity; this bumper set has it all.
see also review by Rob
Barnett
Track-listing
CD 1 [60:30]
Symphony No. 1 ‘Klippepastoraler’ (Mountain Pastorals) BVN 32
(1908-11) [60:30]
CD 2 [65:43]
Symphony No. 2 ‘Vårbrud’ (Awakening of Spring) for soprano
solo and orchestra BVN 53 Original Version (1912-14) [37:36]
Symphony No. 3 ‘Ungdomsbrus - La melodia’ (The Flush of Youth
- La melodia) for piano solo, orchestra and choir BVN 96 (1915-16, rev. 1925-33)
[28:07]
CD 3 [57:31]
Symphony No. 4 ‘Løvfald’ (Leaf Fall) BVN 124 (1916, rev.
1920) [23:38]
Symphony No. 5 (Version I) BVN 191 (1917-18/1926) [14:22]
Symphony No. 5 (Version II) ‘Steppenatur’ (‘Sommersagnsdrama)
(Steppe Landscape) (Summer Legend Drama) BVN 216 (1917-18/1920/1931) [19:31]
CD 4 [56:54]
Symphony No. 6 ‘Det himmelrivende’ (The Heaven-Rending) BVN 165
(1919-20, rev. 1928-30) [21:41]
Symphony No. 7 (Version 1926) BVN 188 (1925-26) [16:25]
Symphony No. 8 ‘Minder ved Amalienborg’ (Memories at Amalienborg)
for chorus with tenor solo and orchestra BVN 193 (1926-28, rev. 1929-34) [18:48]
CD 5 [53:35]
Symphony No. 9 ‘Fra Dronning Dagmars by’ (From Queen Dagmar’s
City) BVN 282 (1942) [21:22]
Symphony No. 10 ‘Hin Torden-bolig’ (Yon Hall of Thunder) BVN 298
(1944-45) [25:53]
Symphony No. 11 ‘Ixion’ BVN 303 (1944-45) [6:20]
CD 6 [63:41]
Symphony No. 12 ‘Hélsingeborg’ BVN 318 (1946) [7:06]
Symphony No. 13 ‘Undertro’ (Belief in Wonders) BVN 319 (1946-47)
[27:40]
Symphony No. 14 ‘Morgenen’ (The Morning) - suite for choir and
orchestra BVN 336 (1947-48/1951) [28:55]
CD 7 [61:43]
Drapa (On the Death of Edvard Grieg) BVN 20 (1907, rev. 1909-13) [5:27]
Sphinx - tone painting for orchestra BVN 37 (1909-10, rev. 1913) [6:46]
Hvidbjerg-Drapa for choir, organ and orchestra BVN 343 (1948) [3:06]
Danmarks Radio (Radio Denmark) fanfares for orchestra BVN 351 (1948) [1:18]
Res absùrda!? for choir and orchestra BVN 354 (1948) [5:35]
Symphony No. 15 ‘Søstormen’ (The Sea Storm) for bass baritone
solo, male chorus and orchestra BVN 375 (1937/1949) [17:40]
Symphony No. 16 ‘Syndflod af Sol’ (Sun Deluge) BVN 417 (1950-51)
[21:52]