Mieczysław Weinberg: Symphony
No. 6; Rhapsody on Moravian Themes. Glinka Choral College Boys’ Choir and
St. Petersburg State Symphony Orchestra conducted by Vladimir Lande. Naxos.
$9.99.
Janáček: Taras Bulba; Lachian
Dances; Moravian Dances. Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Antoni
Wit. Naxos. $9.99.
Beethoven: Missa Solemnis.
Anne Schwanewilms, soprano; Annette Jahns, mezzo-soprano; Nikolai Schukoff,
tenor; Dietrich Henschel, bass; London Philharmonic Choir and Orchestra
conducted by Christoph Eschenbach. LPO. $16.99.
Robert Fuchs: Serenades Nos. 1
and 2; Andante grazioso and Capriccio. Cologne Chamber Orchestra conducted
by Christian Ludwig. Naxos. $9.99.
Robert Fuchs: Serenades Nos. 3, 4
and 5. Cologne Chamber Orchestra conducted by Christian Ludwig. Naxos.
$9.99.
There is a revival of
sorts going on for the music of Mieczysław
Weinberg (1919-1996), a Polish-Jewish Soviet composer often mentioned as the
third great Soviet-era musical creator, along with Shostakovich and
Prokofiev. Weinberg was a prodigious
symphonist, writing 22 works in the form (compared with 15 for Shostakovich and
just eight for Prokofiev, including two versions of No. 4). Weinberg also wrote in many other forms (17
string quartets vs. 15 by Shostakovich, for example), frequently including
programmatic musical references to his early life within his compositions. His devotion to his personal heritage is
clear, for example, in his broad-scaled Symphony No. 6, a five-movement work
that includes children’s chorus in three of its movements – one using words by
Mikhael Lukonin (1918-1976), one with text by Samuil Galkin (1897-1960), and
one featuring the words of Lev (or Leib) Kvitko (1890-1952), who was one of 13
members of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee executed in Moscow in 1952 after
the committee, founded by order of Joseph Stalin, began looking too closely for
authorities’ comfort into anti-Semitism in the Soviet Union itself. This symphony, which dates to 1963, is a
large work but not an overwhelming or ungainly one, lacking some of
Shostakovich’s scope but also avoiding some of the older composer’s
excesses. Shostakovich himself used the
symphony as teaching material, no doubt impressed with its sheer
multifariousness: it includes a deeply heartfelt slow movement that contrasts
with burlesques and circus-like tunes.
Vladimir Lande leads it with understanding and deep sensitivity – this
would be a welcome first volume in a cycle of all of Weinberg’s
symphonies. However, the texts are not
included in the booklet or offered online – a significant lack, especially if
other vocal symphonies by Weinberg (No. 6 is the first of six in a row) are to
be issued. The Naxos CD also includes
the vivid Rhapsody on Moravian Themes,
a 1949 work that ranges between melancholia and high, almost frenetic spirits,
and ends with a very upbeat dance.
The dances of Leoš Janáček are older and much better known. The Lachian
Dances date to 1889-90, the Moravian
Dances to 1891, and both sets preserve folk tunes and traditions that were
fast vanishing when the composer created these works. There are interesting contrasts between the
two sets, not the least being their length: the five Moravian Dances last less than 10 minutes, the six Lachian Dances more than twice as
long. Both sets are essentially
collections and orchestrations of folk tunes, but they are more than that,
being specifically intended by Janáček
as cultural preservation: they are not expansions and colorations of folk music
in the manner of Liszt or Dvořák,
but attempts to keep alive a fading sense of Czech history and community. Antoni Wit and the Warsaw Philharmonic
perform the dances with vigor and rhythmic vitality, and also deliver a fine
rendition of the Taras Bulba rhapsody
of 1918, which is based on a novel by Nikolai Gogol and which powerfully
presents three intensely dramatic episodes from the tale – one focusing on the
death of each of Taras Bulba’s sons and one on his own death, which includes Egmont-like defiance and a prediction of
the ultimate defeat of his enemies. Taras Bulba contains some of Janáček’s most effective instrumental
writing and orchestration, and the performance here does it full justice.
Christoph Eschenbach’s
reading of Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis,
although worthy enough, is less successful.
This live LPO recording, from a 2008 concert, features some excellent
vocals, especially the lovely, heartfelt lyric soprano of Anne Schwanewilms and
the sure and steady voice of Nikolai Schukoff.
But the overall performance never quite takes wing or touches listeners
as deeply as Beethoven intended this work to do. Eschenbach is an inconsistent conductor, and
his unevenness is fully on display in this performance. The tender, beautifully flowing opening Kyrie is quite fine, with excellent
singing by the London Philharmonic Choir, and the start of the following Gloria stays at the same high level,
being speedy and intense. But things
begin to flag later in this section, the tension dropping noticeably – to such
a point that the movement’s fugue is simply flaccid. The Credo
is rather shapeless, certainly not building to a strong affirmation of faith, although
matters improve in the Sanctus, with orchestra
leader Pieter Schoeman delivering a particularly beautiful version of the
extended violin solo. At the work’s end,
the Agnus Dei is solemn enough, but
lacking in the drama that Beethoven built in with his use of drums and
fanfares. The soloists, aside from
Schwanewilms and Schukoff, are only so-so: Dietrich Henschel sounds somewhat hesitant, and Annette Jahns
simply seems tired and unable to project effectively. There are enough well-done elements in this
recording to earn it a (+++) rating, but the Missa Solemnis, a difficult work for any conductor and ensemble,
here proves to have overmatched Eschenbach and his forces.
Much lighter and much
less-known, the five serenades of Robert Fuchs (1847-1927) receive fine
performances by the Cologne Chamber Orchestra under Christian Ludwig, but these
too are (+++) CDs, in this case because the music itself is pleasant enough but
only moderately interesting. Fuchs was
best known as professor of music theory at the Vienna Conservatory, where he
taught, among others, Mahler, Sibelius, Zemlinsky, Korngold, Heuberger, Stolz
and Hugo Wolf. In Fuchs’ lifetime, his
best-known works were his serenades, and it is easy to see why: they are
pleasant, largely unassuming works that flow nicely and make no major demands
on listeners’ minds or ears. Unlike the
serenades of Brahms – who admired Fuchs’ music, which is saying something,
since he was notably stingy with praise for other musicians – these pieces are
not large-scale, almost-symphonic works.
They are short (none reaches half an hour in length), very well
constructed, lyrical and expressive, with effective slow movements that tend to
be the heart of the works but never delve too deeply into emotion. Nos. 1 and 2, for string orchestra, are
filled with features that sound like the work of other composers, such as
Schubert, Mendelssohn and Dvořák. Both are very pleasant to listen to – it is
easy to see why they were very popular in their time – but neither offers much
for listeners to chew over or hold onto: these are evanescent works.
No. 3, also for string orchestra, is strongly reminiscent of Brahms,
even to its Finale alla zingarese. No. 4, for string orchestra and two horns, is
more expressive and, thanks to the inclusion of the horns, has a more
interesting sound. No. 5, for small
orchestra, is musically the most interesting of the group, ranging in sound
from the Vienna of the Strauss family almost to the Vienna of Mahler. Serenades are, by definition, not designed to
have the seriousness or musical integration of symphonies, so it would be
unfair to criticize those of Fuchs as lacking depth that they were never
intended to possess. Still, serenades by
other composers of the time – again, the two by Brahms come immediately to mind
– offer greater scope to performers and more aural interest to listeners. The Fuchs works are certainly enjoyable to
hear from time to time, but it is not hard to understand the obscurity into
which they have fallen. The Andante grazioso and Capriccio, a later
work than the serenades (dating to 1900 – the last two serenades are from 1895,
the others considerably earlier), has more heft to it: although still not
profound, it is earnest, determined and altogether of a darker cast, now
looking more in Mahler’s direction than in the sunnier one of Schubert. Fuchs’ music should not be lightly dismissed,
but neither should listeners be surprised, after hearing it, if they come away
thinking that the experience was pleasing enough but scarcely profound.
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