Aulis SALLINEN (b. 1935)
Chamber Music I-VIII
Chamber Music No. I, Op. 38 for string orchestra (1975)[12:20]
Chamber Music No. II, Op. 41 for alto flute and string orchestra
(1976)[14:58]
Chamber Music No. III, Op. 58, The Nocturnal Dances of Don
Juanquijote for solo cello and string orchestra (1985-6)[19:30]
Chamber Music No. IV, Op. 79 Metamophoses of the Elegy for Sebastian
Knight for piano and string orchestra (1964) [[18:26]
Chamber Music No. V, Op. 80a, Barabbas Variations (arr. Ralf
Gothóni for piano and string orchestra)(2005)[22:15]
Chamber Music No. VI, Op. 88 3 Invitations au voyage for solo
string quartet and string orchestra (2005-6)[24:33]
Chamber Music No. VII, Op. 93, Cruselliana, for solo wind quintet
and string orchestra (2007-8)[24:07]
Chamber Music No. VIII, Op. 94, The Trees, All Their Green, for
solo cello and string orchestra (2008-9)[19:42]
Arto Noras (cello), Alexis Roman (flute)
Jyväskylä Sinfonia Wind
Quintetf (Alexis Roman (flute), Nahoko Kinoshita (oboe), Gocho
Prakov (clarinet), Sanna Wihinen (bassoon), Marielle Harri (horn))
Meta4
String Quartet
(Antti Tikkanen and Minna Pensola (violins), Atte Kilpeläinen (viola),
Toma
Djupsjöbacka (cello))
Jyväskylä Sinfonia/Ville Matvejeff (piano/conductor), Ralf Gothóni
(piano/conductor)
rec. 2014/15, Hannikaissali, Jväskylä, Finland
ONDINE ODE1256-2D [78:57 + 78:21]
Aulis Sallinen and his slightly older contemporary Einojuhani Rautavaara
(b. 1928) are currently the grand old men of Finnish music and have been
taking turns in the limelight for some time. Sallinen had an opera performed
at Covent Garden in the 1980s, while Rautavaara’s breakthrough work, his
seventh symphony,
Angel of Light, came in 1994. They have each
written eight symphonies – and it is as important for a Nordic composer to
get beyond seven, because Sibelius didn’t, as it is for one in the German
tradition to reach nine, because Beethoven did. A box of Rautavaara’s
symphonies came out in 2009 (
review) and one of Sallinen’s in 2011 (
review).
Sallinen has a wide stylistic range, with dance music and jazz at one end
and hard-edged modernism at the other. His music is predominantly tonal: he
can write lyrically and rhythmically. Sometimes his idiom seems like a
slightly more astringent version of Benjamin Britten, and there are
occasional reminiscences of other composers. But he has his own flavour,
which you learn to recognize.
Now we have a complete set of Sallinen’s
Chamber Music series.
These are not actually works of chamber music but works for chamber
orchestra, all but the first for one or more solo instruments with a string
orchestra. They are therefore direct successors to Hindemith’s
Kammermusik series, though unlike those works these were written
over a period of over thirty years. A more distant ancestor would be Bach’s
Brandenburg Concertos. The solo parts mostly eschew virtuosity. The works
are mostly in a single movement, though often in several sections and they
are of moderate length, so the whole set – assuming Sallinen does not intend
to add to it – fits onto two CDs. Although some of them have been recorded
before this is the first complete set.
Chamber Music I begins in a haze from which fragments emerge
leading to a melody which climbs out of clinging textures. It achieves some
rhythmic definition featuring Scotch snaps before withdrawing into the mist.
There is a serene coda with a beautiful tune. This is the nearest to
modernism of the whole set.
Chamber Music II features an alto flute as soloist, which
immediately leads one to ask why this lovely instrument is not used more
often as a concerto soloist. After an exploratory opening this becomes a
gentle dance. A middle section has an extended solo, not really a cadenza,
and a slow polonaise. There is a short, quick finale. Of all these works
this reminded me most of Britten: it could almost be the flute concerto he
did not get round to writing.
After this gentle work
, Chamber Music III is a riot. The title is
suggestive but there is no formal programme. It is a dialogue between solo
cello – enchantingly played by Arto Noras – and string orchestra in which
the soloist tries to teach the orchestra some jolly dance tunes – Sallinen
played in a dance band in his youth. The orchestra is at first
uncomprehending but gets the knack of it but by then the soloist has moved
on. I particularly enjoyed the tango section. Later, an accompanied cadenza
leads to a moto perpetuo which is repeatedly interrupted before suddenly
fading out.
In contrast,
Chamber Music IV is a rather sombre and questioning
piano concerto in four short movements. It goes back via an earlier version
to a solo cello work which was the original
Elegy for Sebastian
Knight.
The Real Life of Sebastian Knight is a novel by
Vladimir Nabokov which apparently inspired Sallinen, but not having read it
I can’t explore how. The idiom here struck me as rather like Hindemith but
with sudden and disconcerting pauses. I liked this work a lot: it is limpid
and lyrical and with a strange wondering beauty. The piano part is not
virtuosic and indeed is often in single notes.
Chamber Music V is also a piano concerto, this time based on an
earlier version in which the solo instrument was an accordion, and also
related to another work titled
Barabbas Dialogues. This is a
melancholy work with an opening featuring trills which reminded me of
Scriabin’s tenth piano sonata. Indeed, something of the flickering texture
of that work appears here, and builds up an atmosphere of great anxiety with
repeated notes and rhythms. There are momentary reminiscences of works as
disparate as Scriabin’s last two sonatas, Bach, and the Spanish music of
Albeniz and Granados. In a slow middle section there is a suggestion of
jazz. The final section starts as a toccata but ends in doubt and
uncertainty. It is a strange and haunting work.
Chamber Music VI is for solo string quartet and string orchestra,
the same combination which Elgar used in his
Introduction and
Allegro and also Schoenberg in one of his reworkings of a baroque
concerto. Sallinen’s piece is not like either. It is titled
3
invitations au voyage but the implied reference to Baudelaire’s poem or
Duparc’s setting thereof is not borne out by anything I can hear. Imagine
the string writing of Sibelius tinged with Bartók, though this cannot really
convey the character of this music, which also has a yearning chromaticism
which is all Sallinen’s own. Towards the end the mood lifts but the sense of
tension remains. It is an eloquent, poignant work.
Chamber Music VII features a solo wind quintet, here, as in the
previous work, played by an established group. It is a cheerful work, rather
in the French tradition of Poulenc and his contemporaries. Each wind
instrument gets a chance to shine. I particularly enjoyed the oboe of Nahoko
Kinoshita and the clarinet of Gocho Prakov. There are some quiet,
contemplative passage but these are graceful rather than poignant. It is an
attractive work though perhaps too episodic to be wholly coherent.
Chamber Music VIII is another cello concerto. It is a much more
serious work than
Chamber Music III. It is subtitled
The Trees,
All Their Green, which was the title of a volume of poems by Paavo
Haavikko, who also wrote the plays on which two of Sallinen’s operas were
based. He died just as Sallinen was beginning work on this piece. The solo
cello is the protagonist throughout and weaves a lyrical but anguished and
intense line. Arto Noras is as superbly expressive here as he was witty and
playful in
Chamber music III.
I hope I have given a sense of the expressive range and variety of these
eight works. I had already started exploring Sallinen’s symphonies, thanks
to the complete set I mentioned, and have been very glad to get to know this
series as well. The performances under both Ville Matvejeff and Ralf Gothóni
are accomplished and the soloists play with great commitment and style. The
recording is clear and unobtrusive, and there is a helpful sleeve-note, in
English and Finnish only. We owe a debt to the Finnish Music Found
ation which sponsored these recordings.
Stephen Barber
