Louise Farrenc: Symphonies Nos. 2 and 3. Solistes Européens,
Luxembourg, conducted by Christoph König. Naxos. $12.99.
The extent to which Beethoven expanded the
notion of what a symphony could be hovered over other composers throughout much
of the 19th century, reaching near-mythic levels in light of Brahms’
well-known reluctance to undertake anything symphonic while constantly feeling the
Beethovenian shadow. Some composers, such as Spohr, tried to continue matters in
more-or-less Beethovenian mode, with a good deal of success in their own time
but not much afterwards. Others, such as Schubert, looked in new directions but
had considerable difficulty finding them: Schubert’s propensity for starting
symphonies and leaving them incomplete is well-known. Still others, such as
Schumann, undertook symphonies only reluctantly and produced ones mixing
Beethoven’s influence with some genuinely new touches. Yet others, such as
Mendelssohn, produced unique symphonies that sidestepped Beethoven rather than
moving beyond his music. And some, such as Hummel, avoided writing symphonies
altogether.
Interestingly, when Brahms eventually
produced his monumental First Symphony, he directly adopted elements of
Beethoven while finding a way to expand and move beyond them: Brahms’ First is
in C minor, the key of Beethoven’s Fifth, and the finale of Brahms’ work
clearly and deliberately echoes the finale of Beethoven’s Ninth. Lesser
symphonists than Brahms also found themselves drawn to C minor for their first
work in the form: Mendelssohn’s First (which dates to 1824, while Beethoven was
still alive) is in this key, and so is the first symphony (1841) by Louise
Farrenc (1804-1875). Farrenc is a very fine composer who is being rediscovered
largely because she was a successful woman musician at a time when it was
extremely hard for women to gain acceptance in that area. But her music
deserves to be heard more often for its own sake, not because of her gender: in
addition to a variety of virtuosic works for piano (her own instrument, at
which she excelled), Farrenc proved adept in creating chamber works and
orchestral ones – including three symphonies.
Farrenc’s symphonies have the interesting
characteristic of sounding a great deal like the works of other post-Beethoven
symphonists while, at the same time, having a distinct totality that shows
Farrenc placing her own stamp on the material. Her first symphony’s debt to
Beethoven is apparent on a first hearing; its hints of Mendelssohn and Schumann
become clearer afterwards; but it never seems merely derivative of any of these
composers, with Farrenc blending drama and lyricism in her own distinctive way.
Naxos’ new recording of Farrenc’s
Symphonies Nos. 2 (1845, in D) and 3 (1847, in G minor) shows the ways in which
Farrenc developed symphonically as well as the ones in which she did not. The
home keys of Farrenc’s first two symphonies are exactly those of Brahms’ first
two, which were written decades later; but while Brahms’ Second solidifies
something genuinely new in the symphonic realm, Farrenc’s Second mostly
solidifies the impression left by her First – that of a skillful adopter and
adapter of the approaches and techniques of other composers, someone able to
absorb earlier and contemporary approaches to the symphony and give them her
own stamp without, however, producing anything revolutionary or particularly
forward-looking. Thus, Farrenc’s Second sounds like a combination of elements
from Mozart and Beethoven: the attentiveness to winds is Mozartean (although
not as far-reaching as in Schubert’s symphonies), while the seriousness with
which the symphony announces itself through the slow introduction of its first
movement proclaims a relationship with Beethoven. However, unlike Beethoven’s
symphonies, which progress toward climactic finales, Farrenc’s second is
front-weighted, the first movement being the longest and most significant. The
most interesting movement, though, is the third, a Scherzo that takes cues from
Beethoven but goes well beyond them into a level of drama and structural
interest that set it apart not only from its basic model but also from
Farrenc’s other Scherzo movements.
Farrenc’s Third also emphasizes its first
movement, which also features a slow introduction followed by a well-developed,
extended Allegro. Farrenc could well
have known that the key of this symphony is the same as that of Mozart’s
Symphony No. 40 – and Farrenc’s work, while it has no Mozartean intensity or
contrapuntal mastery, does have some of the drive and minor-key insistence of
Mozart’s work. As in all three of her symphonies, this one also has passing
echoes of other composers’ work: here Mendelssohn and Schumann peek in from
time to time. But there is also a Sturm
und Drang quality to this symphony that makes it sound somewhat like the
symphonies of another composer for whom Mendelssohn was a strong influence:
Niels Gade (1817-1890). Yet here as in her other symphonies, Farrenc takes in
material from other composers and works with it in a way that gives it her own
stylistic stamp. These are not great symphonies or world-changing ones, but
well-constructed post-Beethoven forays into a form that was not Farrenc’s
primary focus but in which her work evinces considerable skill. Christoph König
and the Solistes Européens, Luxembourg, play the symphonies with unapologetic
propulsiveness coupled with a willingness to let their many lyrical sections
flow gently and smoothly, without delving into deeply emotional territory –
that was not Farrenc’s province in these pieces. All the Farrenc symphonies are
worth hearing, and in fact worth hearing repeatedly, by listeners interested in
high-quality, less-known symphonic music of the 19th century.
No comments:
Post a Comment