Ignacy Dobrzyński studied alongside his almost
exact contemporary, Chopin, in the composition class of Józef Elsner
(1769-1854). Elsner considered them both outstanding students. Thereafter,
though, their careers diverged. Chopin travelled beyond Poland’s
borders whilst Dobrzyński remained in the country, struggling as
a composer - not least when Warsaw was occupied by Russian forces.
This 2-CD set - which sells for the price of one - charts the earlier
part of the composer’s career, with works ranging from 1824 to 1838,
albeit one must acknowledge the revision to the Symphony that was carried
out in 1862. One must also face the question of the Piano Concerto, written
when he was just 17, which is heard here in a reconstruction by composer,
musicologist and editor Krzysztof Baculewski. It’s a good place
to start, being the earliest work. The first known performance of the
Concerto was not to take place until 1986 and the first recording was
by Howard Shelley and Sinfonia Varsovia [NIFCCD 101]. The good news -
I
think it’s good news - is that the two performances enshrine
different editions of the work. Shelley’s is heard in an edition
in which the composer cut some sections, mostly in the first movement.
Chandos’s choice of the Baculewski edition ensures that we go back
to the composer’s first thoughts. Those missing passages, now restored,
equal around 7 or 8 minutes’ worth of music.
So much for matters editorial, what does the Concerto sound like? On the
whole a conflation of Hummel and Weber would be about right - the note
writer Adrian Thomas also suggests Field, which sounds right as well.
It’s conjectured that Dobrzyński showed his manuscript to Chopin
and there is something of a shared inheritance or allegiance in the pretty
figuration of the slow movement. The finale is predicated on that Polish
standby, the Krakowiak, and it’s full of geniality. The cadenza,
half-way into the finale, is by the fine soloist, Emilian Madey. It certainly
helps that he is himself a composer of note.
The other major work is the Symphony No.2, the ‘Characteristic’.
It was written for a competition in Vienna, which earned the victorious
work the soubriquet of ‘Competition’ symphony for a while.
But it was revised in 1862 and the composer replaced the slow movement
with one written for his 1841 String Sextet, Op.39. He retained the title
‘Elegia’ for the movement. Fortunately Chandos has also recorded
the original slow movement and we can listen to the two. The Symphony
opens in arresting fashion - I was reminded for a few seconds of a kind
of Don Giovanni element - but it soon settles attractively and expertly.
The new slow movement introduces an element of chromaticism into the symphony’s
vocabulary, though there is too some evidence that he had been listening
to Rossini amidst the expected strong Polish dance character. He clearly
knew his
Pastoral Symphony, given his chirrups and calls in the
Minuet-plus-Mazurka third movement; and the solo fiddle pirouettes girlishly
in response to the blandishments of the woodwind - nice characterisation.
A racy Rondo, based on a song, reveals chattering winds and, again, Rossinian
high spirits. The original slow movement is rather more elegant than the
more dolorous replacement. Not to be overlooked either is the Overture
to ‘Monbar, or the Filibusters’, Op.30. This is excellently
orchestrated and whilst it’s possible the composer revised it later,
the sense of
agitato and drama is strong - as is the easy lyricism
and percussion-filled Rossinian accelerando.
The performances are good throughout. Some really imaginative conjunctions
(such as the violin/woodwind episode noted above) perhaps serve to highlight
moments of near-routine elsewhere; or maybe the fault lies more with the
composer. There is certainly something of worth here, though it would
be just to note that the compositional value is variable.
Jonathan Woolf
Something of worth though compositional value is variable.
See also review by
Byzantion