Kabalevsky: Piano Concertos Nos.
1-4; Fantasy in F Minor after Schubert D940; Rhapsody on the Theme of the Song
“School Years.” Michael Korstick, piano; NDR Radiophilharmonie Hanover
conducted by Alun Francis. CPO. $33.99 (2 CDs).
Wolf-Ferrari: Concertinos for
Oboe, Cor Anglais and Bassoon. Andrea Tenaglia, oboe; William Moriconi, cor
anglais; Giuseppe Ciabocchi, bassoon; Orchestra Sinfonica di Roma conducted by
Francesco La Vecchia. Naxos. $9.99.
Bizet: Orchestral Music—complete.
Orquestra Filarmonica de México
and Royal Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Enrique Bátiz. Brilliant Classics. $16.99 (3 CDs).
These recordings offer
fascinating chances to reappraise composers who, for political or musical
reasons, are not usually seen in the lights highlighted here. The political reasons apply to Dmitri
Kabalevsky, the politically adept Soviet-era composer who managed to make peace
with the vicious and stifling bureaucracy of Stalin’s dictatorship and to
thrive in a system that caused tremendous hardship to Shostakovich, Prokofiev
and many others – and brought death to some.
Kabalevsky cooperated fully with the “Socialist Realism” school of
musical thought, in which works had to be readily accessible to all and
supportive of Soviet ideals; he also headed or worked within various committees
of apparatchiks that set policy and
doled out punishments to the best writers, composers and other artists of the
time. For all these reasons,
Kabalevsky’s own music has long been dismissed out of hand as propagandistic
and superficial – including by many people who have never heard it. This makes about as much sense as dismissing
Wagner and Bruckner because the Nazis revered them; in fact, some people do
just that. But Kabalevsky’s ostracism hits
somewhat closer to home, since his was not a towering genius and it is
therefore fairly simple to relegate him to the realm of the second-rate
Communist Party hack. The truth, though,
as shown in CPO’s excellent survey of his works for piano and orchestra, is far
more nuanced and complicated. Certainly
Kabalevsky’s music is approachable, at times even naïve, in ways that make it
less thorny and intense than the works of other Soviet-era composers; but these
piano-and-orchestra works are scarcely without merit, and if simply heard on
their own, stripped of historical and political associations – something that
is easier to do 20-plus years after the disintegration of the Soviet Union –
the pieces show excellent craftsmanship and a sturdy and altogether pleasant
sensibility. They are not great works,
perhaps not even near-great, but they have much to recommend them and would, if
programmed more often in concert, provide a pleasant alternative to the
now-overplayed piano concertos of Shostakovich, Prokofiev, Rachmaninoff and
others.
Kabalevsky’s Piano
Concerto No. 1, his longest, is a large-scale Romantic-style work that very
clearly recalls Rimsky-Korsakov, Rachmaninoff and Prokofiev – in fact,
Prokofiev’s Concerto No. 3 is the model for Kabalevsky’s middle,
theme-and-variations movement, and Prokofiev’s Concerto No. 2 is something of a
blueprint for Kabalevsky’s finale. But
the piano writing – Kabalevsky was a fine pianist – is attractively virtuosic,
and if the overall effect of this work, which was first heard in 1931 with the
composer at the piano, is of a throwback, it is a very well-made look in a
rear-view mirror, filled with felicitous touches and fine piano writing. Concerto No. 2, finished in 1935 and first
played in 1936, continues to echo Rachmaninoff and Prokofiev, but less strongly. It has an especially complex and intriguingly
constructed slow movement, which echoes both Rachmaninoff and Shostakovich but places
Kabalevsky’s personal stamp on the material to which he refers. Concerto No. 3, written in 1952 for young
performers and dedicated “To Soviet Youth,” features memorable tunes, a finale
with folklike elements, and considerable charm.
Concerto No. 4, composed in 1977-78 and first played in 1979, is also a
“youth concerto,” but a very compressed one, its three movements lasting less
than 13 minutes and featuring strong contrasts between lyricism and rather
raucous dancelike tunes. The Rhapsody on the Theme of the Song “School
Years” shows Kabalevsky at his most Soviet: written in 1964, it provides
well-crafted variations on a propaganda song that Kabalevsky had written in
1957 and that was very well-known in its time.
Despite the genesis of the tune, the variations are very well-crafted,
including a siciliano, march, waltz
and, near the end, some distinctively jazzy passages. Also played here, in its world première recording, is a genuine oddity
that shows both Kabalevsky’s compositional skill and the reason he was renowned
for pedagogy. The Fantasy in F Minor after Schubert D940 is largely a transcription,
but where Kabalevsky chooses to change Schubert’s work, he does so to make it
brighter, more optimistic and much less fragile: the Scherzo, for instance, is
sturdy rather than, as in Schubert, subtle.
In this 1961 work, Kabalevsky makes some tempo changes and many
alterations of emphasis, but – interestingly – leaves the resigned-sounding
ending alone, although its pessimism is now at odds with what has come before
rather than springing from it. The
erroneous timings in the CD booklet make it seem that Kabalevsky somehow
lengthened the piece tremendously, to nearly 25 minutes; but in fact it runs
fewer than 18 – the timings given for all three movements are, for some reason,
way off. Not especially notable on its
own, this “rethinking” will be fascinating to anyone who knows Schubert’s
original and wants to hear how Kabalevsky filtered it through Soviet
sensibility of the mid-20th century.
Reconsiderations of Ermanno
Wolf-Ferrari and Georges Bizet involve musical forms rather than political
issues. Both composers are known for
their operas – Wolf-Ferrari mainly for his notorious The Jewels of the Madonna and lighthearted The Secret of Susanna, Bizet of course for Carmen but also for Les Pécheurs
de perles and La jolie fille de Perth. Both composers wrote a number
of operas that are rarely if ever heard: Wolf-Ferrari completed 13 in all,
Bizet nine. Neither composer is thought
of as frequently working in purely instrumental forms. But late in life, Wolf-Ferrari became focused
on instrumental music and composed some very worthy pieces, including three
wind concertinos. All get very fine
performances on a new Naxos CD; and all have a similar enough sound so that the
Wolf-Ferrari style comes through clearly.
The oboe concertino, called Idillio, is in fact idyllic. It is essentially a three-movement pastoral
work, setting the soloist against an ensemble of strings and two horns; in
fact, its brief Scherzo is reminiscent of Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony. Even the slow movement is more dreamy than
profound, somewhat melancholic but never depressive, and whatever clouds it
brings are dispelled in the bright and lively finale. The work dates to 1932; a
year later came what Wolf-Ferrari called a Suite-concertino for bassoon
and the same small orchestra, once again offering a dreamlike and lyrical
scenario throughout, withholding the comic and playful sound usually associated
with the bassoon until the finale rondo.
And then in 1947, the year before his death, Wolf-Ferrari wrote a third
concertino, this time featuring the cor anglais. This work has some intriguing structural
elements – for example, there is little dialogue between soloist and orchestra
in the first movement but a great deal of it in the second, and Wolf-Ferrari’s
operatic verismo roots show through in the third, which is marked Canzone. Somewhat more intense than the other
concertinos, the one for cor anglais nevertheless ends in a similarly upbeat
way with a humorous rondo – although this one does have some dramatic elements
as well. The three pieces, taken
together in this very well-played recording, show a side of Wolf-Ferrari that
will expand the musical horizons of listeners who know him only through opera.
Bizet’s non-operatic music, unlike Wolf-Ferrari’s, is
mainly tied into his dramatic works.
Bizet did write two symphonies, the youthful and ever-fresh Symphony in
C and a later, rather more ponderous and foursquare one called Roma. Hearing the contrast between the two as
played by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra under Enrique Bátiz is an interesting experience: here is a
situation in which Bizet’s later work did not improve on his earlier one – the
opposite of the case with Carmen, which was his final opera and which
stands far above his others. The rest of
Bizet’s orchestral music is offered by Brilliant Classics in performances by Bátiz with Orquestra Filarmonica de México. There
are only two Bizet orchestral works, other than the symphonies, that are not
tied to the stage: the charming Jeux d’enfants, five short movements
that the composer orchestrated from a 12-piece piano suite, and the
tub-thumping Patrie Overture, written only a year before Carmen
but without any of the opera’s subtlety.
Of the remaining Bizet orchestral works, the two well-known L’Arlésienne suites are taken from music for a play; the two even-better-known Carmen
suites are of course from the opera; and then there are the prelude to Les Pécheurs de perles and a suite
from La jolie fille de Perth. That is all – music of variable quality and
varying levels of interest, not all of it compiled by Bizet (the second L’Arlésienne suite was put together by the composer’s friend, Ernest Guiraud, after
Bizet’s death). Most of the music is
tuneful, and even in the less-successful works, such as Roma, there are
attractive elements. But this collection
makes it clear that even if Wolf-Ferrari’s skills and interests went beyond
opera, Bizet’s basically did not: however you consider or reconsider him, he
was, like his contemporary Offenbach, a stage composer above all.
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