Algirdas MARTINAITIS (b. 1950)
Seasons and Serenades: Works for String Orchestra
The Three M’art Comedy Seasons for violin and string orchestra (2014) [21:59]
Artizarra for string orchestra and harpsichord (2001) [5:07]
Serenade for Mistress Europe for string orchestra (1999) [18:31]
Birds of Eden for string orchestra (1981) [8:43]
Valse Triste for soprano and string orchestra (2020) [6:25]
Chant de la Lointaine for soprano, string orchestra and piano (2014) [12:23]
Rūta Lipinaitytė (violin), Asta Krikščiūnaitė (soprano), Daumantas Slipkus (piano and harpsichord)
St. Christopher Chamber Orchestra/Modestas Barkauskas
rec. February 2020, Lithuanian National Culture Centre Recording Studio, Vilnius, Lithuania
Reviewed as 16-bit download from press preview.
ONDINE ODE1398-2 [70:08]
Contemporary Lithuanian composer Algirdas Martinaitis completed his musical studies only eleven years before the disintegration of the Soviet Union and the restoration of an independent Lithuania. The social and political ferment of those years left their mark on him, encouraging a post-modern musical style that takes a playful or ironic stance towards the Western musical traditions of his training. The fluctuating nature of Lithuanian cultural identity alongside its political travails further exacerbated Martinaitis’s sense of artistic instability. The first three works on this album reflect his conflicted personal and national identity.
The Three M’art Comedy Seasons is a violin concerto in all but name. Martinaitis makes musical allusions to other composers, most obviously in a passage from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons near the end of the finale. The soloist, a constant presence, is rarely given a break. Despite its jaunty, tuneful character, this is a restless work, always moving from
one idea to the next. Violinist Rūta Lipinaitytė not only handles the technical challenges effortlessly, but she embodies the necessary combination of insouciance and desperation bound up in Martinaitis’s emotionally complex, often satirical style. The St. Christopher Chamber Orchestra under Modestas Barkauskas match her note for note, not so much accompanying Lipinaitytė as fusing with her.
Artizarra for string orchestra and harpsichord features the same rhythmic bounce and melodic proliferation. It is nominally Neo-Baroque, although the harpsichord plays a purely decorative role. Martinaitis spins out his themes from the opening note à la Bach before letting the energy flag and ending with an abrupt gesture. As in the Comedy Seasons, the St. Christopher players execute the intertwining musical lines with precision and spirit.
Serenade for Mistress Europe is the most thoroughgoing post-modern work on the album. Beginning with repeated cadential “ending” gestures, Martinaitis once again incorporates references to other composers in the course of, as the liner notes say, its “inspection of tradition, history, and legacy”; I hear hints of Wagner, Beethoven, Ravel, and even La Marseillaise. While the performance is as polished as the rest, at nearly twenty minutes the piece seems too long for its material. To my ears, Martinaitis could have made his point in half the time.
The remaining three works show another side of Martinaitis, a simplicity of form, beauty of sound, yearning for stability of identity, and a more direct emotional expression. Birds of Eden is the highlight of the disc. It was originally scored for four electric cellos, itself a statement of nonconformity during the Soviet years. Martinaitis rescored it for string orchestra in 2016. It is a compact, powerful work; its hypnotically circling melodic phrases and chugging rhythms are near to Minimalism. Free of the skepticism found in the Comedy Seasons or Serenade, the piece receives a devoted reading.
The final two works set texts by the Lithuanian poet Oscar Vladislas de Lubicz Milosz (1877-1939). Milosz, who represented Lithuania at the League of Nations, wrote of himself “I am a Lithuanian poet, writing in French”. The poet’s desire to affirm a national identity while recognizing the complexities inherent in Lithuania’s troubled history draw from Martinaitis his most heartfelt works. Valse Triste and Chant de la Lointaine are spare, almost bleak settings for soprano, string orchestra and piano. Asta Krikščiūnaitė sings with commitment and emotional openness. The only drawback is her unclear diction. Even when one follows the texts, her French is hard to understand. Nevertheless, Barkauskas directs a sensitive accompaniment, and the players once again merge with the soloist seamlessly.
Martinaitis has not had much exposure on disc. There are individual choral works on compilation albums from Harmonia Mundi (HMU 907391) and Pentatone (review), as well as a 2018 Telos Music recording of his Musikalisches Opfer, a concerto for tenor, flute, oboe, harpsichord, and strings (TLS 221). Other works are scattered among albums available from the Music Information Centre Lithuania, www.mic.lt. Martinaitis’s only other presence on MusicWeb is on a compilation of Lithuanian orchestral music (Rob Barnett’s review).
This is the latest album in Ondine’s exploration of music from the Baltic countries. It joins discs featuring works by Tālivaldis Ķeniņš (review, review, review, review), Jurgis Karnavičius (review, review), and Eduardas Balsys (review) who taught Martinaitis at the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Theatre. Readers who collect these releases will want this album as well. It will also reward listeners curious to hear accessible contemporary music. The balance between post-modern and more traditionally expressive pieces ensures no one style takes precedence.
The recording is excellent. The clear sound engineering lets the frequent musical onomatopoeia of sliding string glissandi leap out of the texture. The orchestral performance is masterful, as is that of the soloists, other than the question of diction noted above. This album reveals the deep emotional current running through Martinaitis’s music, even when it is at times buried under layers of irony.
Christopher Little
