Like many another composer Neapolitan composer Mario Pilati had to endure
parents who struggled against his musical vocation. He persisted and after
five years (1918-23) at the Conservatorio San Pietro in Majella secured his
Diploma in Composition. Quite apart from attracting a commission from
Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge he held academic posts at the Musical Institute
of Cagliari. Later he moved to Milan and then Palermo. He composed
industriously with his output including a
Concerto for Orchestra
recorded by Tomáš Nemec and Adriano for
Marco Polo and then reissued on
Naxos. Add to this various orchestral works, again presented by
Adriano on
Inedita, and a very sunnily disposed Piano Quintet played by
Ciccolini on
Naxos.
We owe the present disc to Tactus and the pianist Giovanni Nesi who also
conducts the four-movement Suite. The Suite is dedicated to Pilati's
friend Renato Fasano, who had secured employment for Pilati in Cagliari. The
Suite serves as a relaxed, discursive and at times luxuriously romantic
piano concerto. The writing suffers a shade because the orchestra here lacks
a luxurious tone but what we hear is enjoyable. There are moments when the
music feels somewhat neo-classical and others where the writing for massed
strings is not a million miles from Vaughan Williams'
Concerto
Grosso; try the first movement. A consciously archaic
Capriol-like voice can be heard in the
Sarabanda (II) and
this is offset by the optimistic chuckle of the
Minuetto (III).
The remainder of the disc is given over to two books of
Bagatelles for solo piano. The first book was made into an
orchestrated Suite dedicated to Pilati's three daughters. We know it
in this form from Adriano's Inedita disc. These initial five range
from a cheeky little
Marcia to a sleepy
Ninna Nanna to an
at first villainously dark
Basso ostinato that soon finds
easy-going serenity. There are six short pieces in the second book which
include a smilingly rhythmic
Barzeletta. Add to this a chiming
music-box
Rococo and a
Rondo valzer, both of which sneak
an affectionate peek in the direction of Vienna. There's a
Contrasto rusticano with a sly yet singable Italianate melody, a
placidly meandering
Intermezzo and a chatteringly exuberant
Fine, again alive with the spirit of song.
This disc helps fill out the picture of an agreeable yet unassuming
composer who died young in Naples. The sometimes clunkily translated but
clear essay by Marta Poggesi also assists.
More ammunition for the explorer who refuses to accept received wisdoms
about twentieth century Italy being only the home of opera and Respighi.
Rob Barnett
