Robert GROSLOT (b 1951)
Piano Concerto (2010) [24:55]
Cello Concerto (2011) [21:59]
Harp Concerto (2011) [18:02]
Jan Michiels (piano)
Ilia Yourivitch Laporev (cello)
Eline Groslot (harp)
Brussels Philharmonic/Robert Groslot
rec. 2017/18, STUDIO 4 Flagey, Brussels, Belgium
NAXOS 8.579057 [65:04]
Forty years ago, there were myriad reasons why British enthusiasts were completely in the dark regarding musical developments in far flung corners of Europe like Yugoslavia, Georgia Bulgaria or Romania; more mystifying was one’s ignorance of the scene in the Netherlands and Belgium, countries far closer to home. Up to a point, the phenomenon persists, despite the extraordinary network that is the world wide web. In the case of Belgium, a chance reference in a whisky journal to the fifth symphony of Luc Brewaeys (subtitled ‘Laphraoig’ it is, like its inspiration an acquired taste, complex yet deeply fulfilling) a few years ago piqued my curiosity about his music in particular and his developments in his homeland in general. I discovered another composer, Jacqueline Fontyn (b 1930) in this way. Her fascinating, topographically-inspired music often involved the participation of Robert Groslot (as conductor) and now his own music is getting deserved exposure thanks to Naxos.
Other than wielding the baton Groslot trained as a pianist and his Piano Concerto leads one to believe he is a very fine one, given its challenging yet grateful keyboard writing. It’s this experience as a practical musician that seems to have led to an almost obsessional interest in the concerto genre – the three examples here are among twenty for different instruments listed in the booklet including the Concerto for Orchestra which featured with Groslot’s Violin Concerto on a terrific disc issued by Naxos in 2018 (and broadly welcomed by Rob Barnett - review). The Finn Kalevi Aho is another with concerto-philia but structurally his works in the genre differ in the sense that they tend to comprise multiple movements while Groslot exclusively favours the single movement form. (Of course Aho has also produced 17 symphonies to date, and in pathological terms can accordingly be seen to be enduring symptoms of co-morbid symphomania)
The three examples of Groslot’s art featured on this issue are taut, attractive essays in the form; I really enjoyed the disc and was again impressed by the Belgian’s considerable technical prowess and his obvious flair for orchestration, quite apart from his skill in writing florid, virtuosic music for three very different instruments. On the flipside I suppose he lacks a bit of singularity – of the three pieces here the appealingly pointillistic Harp Concerto is the most consistently individual (and satisfying) – it also has the benefit of seraphic, subtle playing from his daughter Eline – the recording is very fine too and brings out the delicacies of Groslot’s string and percussion writing and conveys a perfumed, languid atmosphere that survives its last note and makes one curious to hear more. Much of the atmospheric writing conjures faint whiffs of nocturnal walks in spooky woodland, and listeners might find parallels between Groslot’s delicate textures for soloist and the pastel shades of his orchestral accompaniment and Frank Martin’s wonderfully deft writing in his Petite Symphonie Concertante or even his underappreciated Harpsichord Concerto. Groslot’s melodic invention in this piece is more of its time, however. Repeated listenings certainly enable the detection of an individual style.
The tumultuous chords that launch the Piano Concerto give way to trills that immediately recall the pungent aromas of late Scriabin. While listeners to the piece will be in little doubt of Groslot’s ability to write thrillingly virtuosic music for his own instrument (here played by the redoubtable Jan Michiels) and colourful, nicely variegated orchestral backgrounds, I suspect many will also playing ‘spot the influence’. Cadences and splashes in the piano part will seem oddly familiar to those who know their Prokofiev, Scriabin and especially Lutoslawski while some louder, more acerbic episodes owe something to Stravinsky’s great trilogy of early ballet scores as well as his middle-period neo-classical output. There is a detailed formal analysis of the work in the booklet (it’s by Norbert Florian Schuck and is pleasingly accurate and accessible) but cutting through that the structure seems to comprise broadly of two equal parts separated by a flamboyant cadenza (which at five or so minutes rather outstays its welcome). While the Piano Concerto is certainly worth a few hearings I found it to be the least convincing of the pieces here – and while the playing of Michiels (if nothing else the work represents a splendid calling-card for his talents) and the Brussels Phiharmonic is beyond reproach I found a degree of congestion in the recording of this piece, notably at the many fff brass climaxes.
The Cello Concerto is also a model of elegant construction and directly communicative content. The heavy breathing of the soloist at the outset is a little disconcerting but this soon settles. The mood is oddly mercurial – the elegiac flavour of its opening bars is developed with some intensity before a rather jolly, stoical tune emerges somewhat unexpectedly. The harp often seems to be primus inter pares in Groslot’s orchestration, unsurprisingly given that his daughter Eline has been the Brussels Philharmonic’s principal for the best part of two decades. I very much like the way in this work that motifs and melodies get passed about between the soloist and among the orchestra; the concerto is certainly expertly designed and its formal conception facilitates swifter familiarity with the its argument and content, although some of Groslot’s ideas merit further development- it strikes me that by the time the listener has absorbed one particular feature of the plot the composer has already moved on. There’s some exciting writing for various types of drum, notably the rototoms once beloved of Michael Tippett. The searing, almost modal conclusion of the Cello Concerto is certainly affecting, its final word a descending sigh with lightly painted accompaniment. The soloist is the Lithuanian Ilia Yourivitch Laporev. To my shame I haven’t encountered him in the past, but his account is beautifully drawn, both eloquent and committed.
I would certainly propose that Groslot’s music well deserves the attention Naxos appear to be lavishing upon it. On balance I think the two concertos coupled on the first disc are a tad more memorable than the trio presented here, though on the other hand I have played them both a few times over the last twelve months and suspect they have had longer to ‘bed in’. The new disc is certainly welcome and in the main has been superbly engineered; it contains three full length concertos which will appeal to many and offend few. And if readers will forgive the rather tenuous link, while we’re on the subject of the under-representation of music from the Low Countries, I wonder if that nice Mr Heymann could be persuaded to record the three fascinating symphonies of the Dutchman Willem Pijper (1894-1947), once viewed as the most important of all twentieth century composers from the area and now almost completely forgotten. Nobody else seems interested….
Richard Hanlon
