Adolf BUSCH (1891-1952)
Piano Trio op. 15 in A minor [28:11]
Piano Trio op. 48 in C minor [30:56]
Piano Quartet op. 59 in B minor [40:06]
Ravinia Trio (Saiko Sasaki (piano), Rainer Schmidt (violin), Helmut Menzler
(cello))
Ulrich Eichenauer (viola)
rec. 5-8 September 2009 (op. 15), 11-12 March (op. 48), 3-4 January 2011 (op.
59), Studio 1, Radiostudio Zürich, Switzerland
CPO 777 528-2 [59:07 + 40:06]
The name Adolf Busch is not unfamiliar today, but is perhaps
better known as that of the first violin of the Busch String Quartet than
as a composer. He founded the quartet after World War I, and it remained in
existence until 1952, a year before his death. In 1927, with the rise of Hitler,
Busch decided he could not stay in Germany, so emigrated to Switzerland. He
wasn’t of Jewish descent, but firmly opposed Nazism from the outset.
On the outbreak of World War II, he emigrated to the USA, eventually settling
in Vermont. He was the son of the luthier Wilhelm Busch, brother of conductor
Fritz, cellist Hermann, pianist Heinrich, and actor Willi, as well as grandfather
of pianist Peter Serkin.
As a composer, Busch was largely influenced by Max Reger (1873-1916), a fellow-German
who saw himself as being part of the tradition of Beethoven and Brahms, often
combining the classical structures of these composers with the extended harmonies
of Liszt and Wagner. Busch composed the Piano Trio op. 48 in 1919
in Bonn – a fully-fledged work in four movements – and it was
premiered some years later in Bochum. While the presence of Reger is very
much to the fore in the musical language used, so, too, is the spirit of Brahms,
whose melancholy in any similar minor-key composition is also felt. In accordance
with the tempo indication (Allegro agitato) the first movement, while structurally
clear-cut, does portray a troubled and shifting mood, despite its calm close
in the major key. A rapid Scherzo follows, vaguely reminiscent of the similar
movement in Brahms’s Piano Concerto No 2, and here cast in an unusually
remote key – F minor. The Trio is decidedly more tranquil, before the
urgency of the opening returns, only to be briefly interrupted by the calmer
Trio section. The slow movement (Largo) shows Busch at his most harmonically
flexible so far, with a constantly-shifting chromaticism that makes it more
difficult to elicit a clear melodic line, until just a few bars from the close.
The finale shows an immediate stylistic affinity with Reger, in its use or
counterpoint, and fugal technique. Busch combines this with the more lyrical
elements from sonata-form, while incorporating a slower ‘Andante sostenuto’
middle section. The opening is recapitulated and culminates in a imposing
conclusion, which sounds rather like a Bach fugue unravelling at the end,
with the obligatory ‘tierce de Picardie’ (a major chord ending
a piece in a minor key) added for good effect.
The Piano Trio op.48 in C minor was composed in 1931 in Basel, and
is once more a four-movement work, although the slow movement and Scherzo
have now swapped places. The opening ‘Allegro’ stills relies on
the fluid chromaticism of its predecessor, but builds on this to greater effect,
and which is enhanced by a more independent use of each of the three instruments.
Fugal elements become integrated more seamlessly, and their use is now less
self-conscious and appears a more natural stylistic evolution. In fact the
writing now seems on an altogether larger canvas, and the conclusion is that
much more effective now. The ensuing slow movement continues in the same vein,
but there is greater harmonic stability and a simplicity, which better suits
the essentially singing-style of this highly-expressive writing. The calm
is immediately broken by the rhythmic intricacies at the start of the Scherzo,
which itself is somewhat rudely interrupted by another contrapuntal section,
in the form of the Trio, which essentially matches the Scherzo in tempo. The
halting rhythms of the latter then return to round off this effective movement.
The finale immediately starts off in the tonic major (C), and seems to reflect
all that has gone before, both stylistically, emotionally, and even thematically.
Harmonically more restrained, it relies on some contrapuntal devices to add
cohesion, like pedal points, and even the returning theme of the slow movement,
but now in the form of a strict canon, which, rather as Franck does in the
corresponding movement of his Violin Sonata, almost passes by unnoticed, rather
than some kind of academic device. This movement in particular really shows
the increased degree of maturity between the two Piano Trios, separated as
they are by some twelve years, and this can largely be attributed to Busch’s
study of Bach’s music at the time.
The Piano Quartet op. 59 in B minor was composed during Busch’s
American period, in response to a commission from Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge,
an American pianist and patron of the Arts, especially chamber music, and
was first performed in the Music Hall of the Library of Congress in Washington,
1945. As with the Piano Trio in C minor, it came another twelve years
later, and it is evident that, during his stateside exile, Busch’s works
seem to have taken on a greater structural terseness of the sort that had
long become standard practice in Arnold Schoenberg’s works, but without
adopting his increasingly atonal musical language or dodecaphony. It is more
palpable here in its sense of equilibrium between ascending and descending
scales, large and small intervals, and ‘cantabile’ lines with
their ornamental enhancements. In one sense Busch now looks back towards Brahms
and his chamber music, but the language and motivic development have clearly
moved forward. All four instruments are equal protagonists in the ensemble,
and harmonic and formal construction give way to counterpoint, and motivic
manipulation, again something in principle which Schoenberg and serial music
greatly relied on. The difference, though, between Busch and his Austrian
contemporary, was that while Schoenberg, during his American exile, produced
some works that looked back towards his pre-serialism past, Busch drew on
his past to forge, for him, a new and ever-developing musical language.
The opening movement (Con passione) certainly opens fervently enough. It is
clear that Busch’s musical language has developed from that of the earlier
Trio in C minor but it is still couched in a decidedly tonal regime,
particularly the second-subject group, and there are frequent moments of great
expression. Chromaticism still pervades, both harmonically and melodically,
and there is a decisive and effective close. The slow movement (Largo ed espressivo)
opens with a lovely outpouring for the piano alone, and initially could have
come straight from the pen of Grieg, with its distinctive harmonic progressions.
This lasts, in fact, just over a minute and a half, before the other instruments
enter. The calm of the opening is rarely disturbed and this movement of simple
heartfelt sincerity is surely the jewel in the crown on this double-CD. At
times, the ensuing Scherzo (Vivace) has echoes of Shostakovich in the writing,
whereas the intervening Trio inhabits a somewhat different sound-world. The
finale, at just over thirteen minutes, is the longest single movement of any
of the three works on the CD and provides the ideal culmination for what has
gone before. Cast in two distinct sections (Moderato, un poco sostenuto ma
con fuoco – Con fuoco, ma non troppo presto), it increasingly alludes
to the theme of the slow movement, as if this might return triumphant at the
final apotheosis, but, with about a minute to run, Busch decides on a different,
though still imposingly grandiose conclusion, even if the dénouement, when
it finally comes, and as is Busch’s wont, is characteristically abrupt,
and without pandering to the clear opportunity for a big major-key ending.
The performance and recording are first-rate throughout, and, while Dominik
Sackmann’s exhaustive sleeve-notes occasionally suffer at the hands
of a not always totally idiomatic English translation, this 2 CD set is certainly
a valuable addition to the catalogue. There is a growing body of composers
whose works, originally condemned under the Nazi regime, are now getting a
fairer representation on CD, but Adolf Busch not only chose to distance himself
from this, while a non-Jew, but also his music speaks with a distinct voice,
for which these three works recorded here are fine ambassadors, not only for
their inherent musical quality and interest, but also because they display
a distinct line of musical development which didn’t eventually ally
itself with the fetters of serialism.
Philip R Buttall
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