Gouvy, a friend of Lalo, Massenet and Saint-Saens, suffered from 
                the polarisation that racked the relationship between Germany 
                and France in the nineteenth century and beyond. To the French 
                he was too German and vice versa. His life’s trajectory took in 
                Lorraine, Paris and Leipzig. There’s plenty to discover including 
                a 
Requiem, 
                an opera 
Le Cid, lots of chamber music and a sequence of 
                symphonies into which 
CPO 
                is making inroads. His music now benefits from the promotion 
                of the Théodore Gouvy Institute, of the regional authorities of 
                Alsace-Lorraine and Saarland and now of Sterling. 
                  
                The 
Second Symphony’s first movement is redolent of Schumann 
                in its melodic material but injected with a Mendelssohnian lightness. 
                This can be heard in the more dramatic second movement which also 
                carries a flavour of French opera-ballet. A placidly serene and 
                unhurried Andante precedes a sprightly storm of a Finale. The 
                latter has a seraphic second subject. This points up the Mendelssohnian 
                vigour with real grace which not even the conventionality of the 
                final sign-off gesture can efface. 
                  
                The 
Paraphrases Symphoniques - a theme and variations 
                - was Gouvy's last orchestral work. It has something of Brahms’ 
                geniality and dark clouds about it as in the 
St Anthony Variations 
                and the 
Tragic Overture. The 
Fantaisie Symphonique 
                is the orchestral version of the Fantasy for Two Pianos 
                in G minor. It’s in three movements. There’s a long and very serious 
                beetling 
Grave with pre-echoes of Tchaikovsky’s 
Hamlet 
                about it. It’s shot through with grand dramatic gestures from 
                the vocabularies of Schumann and Mendelssohn. This long first 
                movement is rather like a dramatic Mendelssohn concert overture 
                such as 
Ruy Blas or 
The Fair Melusine. This is followed 
                by a pulse-calming sweet-tempered 
Adagio. The slightly 
                longer finale 
Alla breve steps forward with regal determination 
                - a touch of the fugal and of the warlike about it. The two movements 
                after the first are each about half the length of the first. 
                  
                These are pleasing romantic works which, for the most part, stay 
                within the glossaries established by Mendelssohn, Schumann and 
                Brahms. If you enjoy the unnumbered symphonies of Saint-Saens 
                and the various symphonies by Méhul I think you will like these 
                very much. Spirited and engaging readings of music hitherto 
                lost in the choking dust of the nineteenth century and now rescued. 
                It’s all done in typical Sterling style. 
                  
                
Rob Barnett