As a member of Les
Six, that celebrated group of musicians
who coalesced around Jean Cocteau and
Erik Satie in the 1920s, Poulenc was
no stranger to the subversive. He may
not have been as outrageous as Satie,
with his flabby preludes and desiccated
embryos, but many of his works are firmly
rooted in the Parisian street culture
of the time. It’s a distinctive mix
of intellectual rigour and popular tunes
that Jean Francaix, 13 years his senior,
acknowledged in his own artistic credo
of ‘Musique pour faire plaisir’ (music
for pleasure). Thankfully this attractive
selection ticks all the right boxes.
The Linos Ensemble
– formed in 1977 and made up of players
from Germany’s top universities and
orchestras – get the disc off to a flying
start with Poulenc’s jaunty Sextet.
The grandiose opening and silent-movie-style
antics show that even in the 1930s his
parodic streak is still very much intact.
His skill in writing for woodwinds is
clear from the outset, especially in
the elegiac passages that follow. The
writing has a melancholy air, a jazzy
languor, and the Linos Ensemble – believably
placed in a close but reasonably warm
acoustic – capture that mood to perfection.
The Divertissement
has an outwardly ‘serious’ start but
like a child who can’t resist a giggle
in church Poulenc punctures the prevailing
pomposity with cheeky interjections
before allowing the players to reprise
the opening bars. Even then the movement
ends with a strange, skeletal little
flourish before the ensemble charges
into the hyperactive Finale.
There is some lovely, secure playing
from the woodwinds and Konstanze Eickhorst’s
attentive piano playing is both elegant
and deliciously irreverent by turns.
Given Poulenc’s demonstrable
skill in writing for woodwinds it is
not surprising that his Trio
is scored for piano, oboe and bassoon
rather than the more usual piano, violin
and cello. As the booklet points out
Poulenc wasn’t breaking new ground here;
his compatriot Henri Brod (1799-1838)
wrote no less than 14 works for this
combination and Francaix confirmed this
as a distinctly French tradition with
his 1994 trio for the same forces.
It is also no surprise
that this 1926 piece has more than a
hint of Satie in its opening bars, with
something of the slapstick of Parade
and Relâche to follow.
After a more formal Andante Poulenc
switches back to Keystone Kops mode
with some rollicking tunes in the Rondo.
There is some very deft playing from
bassoonist Eberhard Marschall and oboist
Klaus Becker, who really do find the
Gallic humour in the writing without
ever losing sight of its overall structure.
It is the kind of bravura playing that
illuminates rather than dominates and
is always a pleasure to hear.
Jean Francaix’s Octet
is modelled on Schubert’s in F major
D. 803 (1824). It is cast in four movements
instead of six and includes that most
Viennese of dances, the waltz. As far
as the writing is concerned one is immediately
struck by Francaix’s more integrated
instrumental approach, with a strong
string presence. There is plenty of
classical restraint but that doesn’t
preclude the odd flashes of wit and
humour. The Moderato – Allegrissimo
and Scherzo elicit some virtuoso
playing from both woodwind and strings
but the idiom is altogether more formal,
more rigorous, and in that sense this
is less engaging and open than the Poulenc
pieces.
But there is certainly
much plaisir to be had here,
in spite of the music’s more opaque
patches. The Andante is measured
but there are some lovely sonorities
to savour. The concluding waltz is more
Second Viennese than First in its initial
jaggedness, although Francaix does display
something of Poulenc’s penchant for
parody later on.
The Decet, commissioned
and premiered by the Linos Ensemble
in 1987, inhabits much the same sound
world as the earlier work, but sounds
even more assured. The opening Larghetto
tranquillo is surprisingly transparent,
given the forces employed, with some
crisp pizzicato playing from the lower
strings. There is an inner energy to
the music that is most appealing and
the Schubertian Andante is a
real delight. Again one marvels at the
economy of Francaix’s writing, not to
mention the Janus-faced nature of this
music as it swings into the Scherzando,
with its tipsy woodwind whoops
and slides, and the
sprightly Allegro moderato.
This is a thoroughly
engaging disc of very worthwhile music,
all superbly recorded. The Linos Ensemble
– with more than 80 works in their repertoire
– certainly play with considerable sympathy
and flair while maintaining a wonderful
sense of integration throughout. The
booklet notes are adequate but there
is no information about the players,
which is a shame. A small quibble, really,
and no bar to the abundant rewards this
disc has to offer.
Dan Morgan