Emil TABAKOV (b.1947)
Symphony No. 2 (1984) [24:02]
Symphony No. 6 (2001) [51:01]
Symphony Orchestra of Bulgarian National Radio (2), Plovdiv Philharmonic Orchestra (6)/Emil Tabakov
rec. 1985, Studio 1 of Bulgarian National Radio, Sofia (2), 2002, Plovdiv Philharmonic Hall (6)
TOCCATA CLASSICS TOCC0562 [75:07]
What do you know about contemporary Bulgarian orchestral music? Yet again Toccata Classics allows us to make a rare discovery. But this disc represents my first encounter with Emil Tabakov. Until now I have only met orchestral works by the better-known figure of Bulgarian music, Pancho Vladigerov (1899-1978), on various CPO recordings. This is volume 5 in a Tabakov edition which I assume will include all of his ten symphonies (the last dating only from 2019). In the process, Toccata will add at least some of the composer’s eight or nine concertos. We may even see his choral works appear.
It is all the more remarkable that Tabakov is so prolific because he spends most of his working life as a renowned conductor. He only has time to compose, like Mahler, on his summer vacations. Also like Mahler, he prefers to work on a vast canvas.
Symphony No. 2 falls into two almost equal-length movements, an Adagio followed by an Allegro moderato. It is an austere and powerful work. But in Tabakov’s Gothic horror world there is little room for sunlight. In the second movement, he terrorises his listeners with continuous pounding rhythmic figures with the concept of ‘louder still and louder’ until you are browbeaten into submission. He attempts to impress by sheer force of musical muscle through his very large orchestra. On the positive side, he knows the insides of the orchestra as he has done since starting conducting as a seventeen year old. There are moments, especially in the first movement, of highly original and fascinating orchestration. Also, as Paul Conway astutely points out in his as ever singularly helpful booklet notes, there is a superb sense of symphonic logic in the use and development of the material, which can often be quite simple. Some melodies even reminded me of plainchant. There are also many stirring and overwhelming climaxes, very impressively staged.
Whereas I was glad that this austere Symphony was quite short, I was also glad that Symphony No. 6 was lengthy because I have found this to be a fine, dramatic and gripping work. Its opening Allegro agitato is full of exhilarating and brash fanfare figures contrasted with calmer passages. The following Largo has the typical and inexorable flow of a powerful and tragic slow movement. It is rather Mahlerian in mood and ends with a brutally formidable coda. The Scherzo and trio, which follows, is Brucknerian in its menace and rhythmic persistency. Punched chords, also a characteristic of the Second Symphony, mark the opening of the finale. As Paul Conway says, this is a ‘weighty’ movement, full of foreboding, with often immensely potent climaxes. Its allegro tempo occasionally relents for a few mysteriously high string or woodwind passages answered by scurrying lower strings. But there are many moods and textures in this movement, and many passages savagely contrasting high volume with almost imperceptibly quiet cluster harmonies and painful grinding dissonances. The ending comes as something of a surprise, but I will keep that secret safe.
The composer is clearly totally in charge of the performances. He seems to achieve his exact requirements with these highly proficient if little known orchestras, aided by fine and clear archival recordings. Documentation is, as usual with Toccata, not only valuable but also exemplary.
Gary Higginson
