(++++) WORKS OF THEIR TIMES

Richard Strauss: Josephs Legende (complete ballet). Staatskapelle Halle conducted by Fabrice Bolton. Naxos. $19.99.

Alessandro Stradella: Mottetti. Concerto Italiano conducted by Rinaldo Alessandrini. Naïve. $16.99.

Bruckner: Mass No. 2; Motets—Ave Maria, Locus iste, Virga Jesse, Os justi, Christus factus est; Aequali Nos. 1 and 2. Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks and Münchner Rundfunkorchester conducted by Peter Dijkstra. BR Klassik. $20.99 (2 CDs).

Lukas Foss: Symphony No. 1; Ode; Renaissance Concerto; Three American Pieces. Amy Porter, flute; Nikki Chooi, violin; Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by JoAnn Falletta. Naxos. $19.99.

     Sumptuous in concept and elegant in execution, Richard Strauss’ ballet Josephs Legende dates to 1912-14 and speaks eloquently of a world in transition. It is flowingly Romantic in overall design despite harmonic hints of a changing sound world; it is also something of a throwback, in its story of the purity of its title character, to a time distinctly at odds with that of Strauss’ Salome (1905). Yet there is plenty of percussive drama in some sections, reminiscent of that in Salome and other Strauss works, and the very large orchestra is expertly managed to communicate the sensuality of the underlying material (Potiphar’s wife’s desire for Joseph), the exoticism of the setting (“a huge pillared hall in Palladian style”), and the contrasts between ensemble pieces and very delicately scored individual ones. In broad outline, the story of the ballet closely follows Genesis 39:7-20, but the ballet’s structure makes ample room for additional coloration with dances for boxers, an Oriental Witches’ Dance, and more. The performance on Naxos, featuring Staatskapelle Halle conducted by Fabrice Bolton, is a very fine one: ballet music is essentially accompaniment rather than standalone material (which is why so many ballets are less-than-effective in recorded form), so Bolton wisely focuses on the rhythmic elegance and aural beauties evoked by Strauss through his skillful orchestration and wonderfully flowing themes. Interestingly, Potiphar’s wife (unnamed in the Bible) does not really have a theme: she is almost a force of nature, identified through mood and sound and competing with the deus ex machina angel that eventually rescues Joseph. In contrast, Joseph and his thoughts and dreams receive music of utmost purity that unfolds at a mostly deliberate pace, as if it exists outside time and the driving insistence of Potiphar’s wife’s urges. The whole good-vs.-evil notion of the ballet and its underlying story is scarcely new, but in the context of a world approaching a devastating, empire-destroying war, Josephs Legende takes on additional meaning and significance – if only in retrospect. The music of Strauss did undergo changes after the war, but his stage works remained quite recognizable in their style and approach, including his postwar ballet, Schlagobers, whose staging is even more elaborate than that of Josephs Legende and regarding which Strauss directly stated, “I cannot bear the tragedy of the present time. I want to create joy.” That tragic time was not yet quite upon Strauss and his audience when Josephs Legende was created, but musically, stylistically, and thematically, the ballet, for all the pervasive beauty of its themes, has about it the feeling of the incipient end of an era.

     Like Richard Strauss, Alessandro Stradella (1643-1682) was more a composer of his own time than one who advanced music in significant ways – but Stradella’s operas and oratorios have retained their effectiveness and their attractiveness to listeners who enjoy works of the 17^th century. What has never had much currency is the shorter sacred music of Stradella – in fact, of the five motets on a beautifully played Naïve CD featuring Concerto Italiano under Rinaldo Alessandrini, four are world première recordings. Stradella’s 17 motets that are known from manuscripts at the Biblioteca Estense in Modena, Italy, were generally conceived as occasional pieces – for the Nativity and designated date of the Immaculate Conception, for example – but in some cases were intended for more-general use. Exultate in Deo Fidelis, for which Stradella himself wrote the text, is the only motet here that has been previously recorded, and its sure-handed melding of solo voice with instruments shows Stradella’s high level of skill at putting across a sacred message through a gymnastic vocal line combined with some very effective instrumental material. In fact, Stradella was a skilled orchestrator, as Alessandrini clearly shows in the two sinfonias included here to complement the motets – each for two violins and basso continuo. Certainly these are works representative of their time (one lasts three minutes, the other less than 90 seconds), but their careful balance and well-controlled emotional expression make them engaging and effective. As for the never-before-recorded motets, Nascere Virgo Potens uses three voices; In Tribulationis, in Angustiis uses five; Convocamini, Congregamini calls for six; and Sistite Sidera, Coeli Motus Otiamini is for a solo singer. What Alessandrini’s presentation of all the works shows is close attention to period style and a suitable level of emotive expression, mixed with very carefully executed balance between the vocal and instrumental material: Stradella kept the words paramount throughout, as was expected for this sacred music, but he found ways to expand upon and underline the meaning of the texts through skillful employment of instruments. This CD offers a winning combination of scholarship – the playing and instrumental sound are certainly authentic – with genuine engagement: even listeners unfamiliar with the concepts and language of these motets can admire the skillful way Stradella assembles his material and the vivid way in which Alessandrini and Concerto Italiano bring it to life.

     The approach to motets and other sacred music had changed dramatically by the middle of the 19^th century – although the changes were gradual and seem extensive only when Stradella’s motets and those of a composer such as Bruckner are heard in close proximity. The five Bruckner motets on a new BR Klassik release are all a cappella works, lacking the instrumental accompaniment that enriches Stradella’s motets but achieving richness of sound through Bruckner’s adept and sensitive handling of the chorus – and the excellence of Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks under Peter Dijkstra. Each of the motets heard here has its own salient characteristics, but all are clearly mid-19^th-century works in their harmonies and their intense emotional expressiveness. Ave Maria, for seven-part mixed chorus, shows just how far motet writing had come since the Marian motets of Stradella. Bruckner’s expert separation and then joining of the male and female voices makes for a particularly effective presentation. Locus iste, like some of Stradella’s motets, is an occasional piece, written for a chapel consecration and using the key of C to affirm the solemnity of the circumstances. Os justi is more contemplative and deliberately affirms older forms of church music, being written in Lydian mode. Christus factus est retells the Passion story with considerable drama and a wide dynamic range. And Virga Jesse has some of the scope of Bruckner’s symphonies – plus a kind of tribute to Handel in its final “Hallelujah” section. Just as Alessandrini’s Stradella release mingles brief instrumental works with the vocal elements, Dijkstra’s Bruckner recording includes two short, early (1847) instrumental pieces. These are scored for three trombones – alto, tenor and bass – and are intended as solemn chorales that hark back to earlier times. All these pieces, vocal and instrumental, surround the major work here, the second of Bruckner’s three Mass settings. Mass No. 2 is in E minor and is quite unusual for its time – indeed, for any time. Bruckner wrote it for eight-part choir and wind instruments, using those instruments to produce clear Romantic-era harmony while keeping the vocal material deliberately archaic and psalm-like in sound. Dijkstra has clearly studied this work very carefully and figured out how to manage its many complexities – its slow tempo being one such, especially for the singers – with great skill. The Münchner Rundfunkorchester is as attuned to the subtleties of the work as is possible, and the chorus proclaims the familiar words of Mass No. 2 with fervor and emotion befitting the spiritual intensity of the belief underlying the texts. This Mass fits interestingly into Bruckner’s music taken as a whole, and for those who are fluent in German, BR Klassik includes with the recording a second CD called Wege zur Musik: Bruckners Welt (“Paths to Music: Bruckner’s World”) that contains extensive discussion of the material recorded here, with musical examples illustrating many points. Alas, no translation of anything on the bonus disc is available, so it is usable only by German speakers – but for them, it will certainly be a worthwhile expansion upon the purely musical presentation under Dijkstra’s direction.

     Chronologically, Stradella was of the Renaissance, living at a time that continues to interest composers and produce works intended as tributes, interpretations or rethinkings of the era. It is nevertheless a bit surprising to find out that certain specific composers looked back to Renaissance times: Lukas Foss (1922-2009) would scarcely seem to have been interested in that age. But Foss’ Renaissance Concerto, written for flute and orchestra as recently as 1985, does indeed hark back to Stradella’s time – albeit with harmonic twists that show the period in which it was actually composed. Foss does not specifically reference Stradella in this four-movement work, but he does include a movement “after Rameau” and another “after Monteverdi.” However, the very opening of the first movement, Intrada, immediately shows how far from Renaissance ideals of consonance and balance the piece will be; and as the work progresses, Foss is at pains to ensure that if there are rhythmic recollections of Baroque dance forms, the actual themes and their harmonizations are very much of the 20^th century rather than the 17^th or before. The fugue-like opening of the concluding Jouissance pays the most-direct tribute to an older time, although here too the music soon shows its true time period. Amy Porter handles the solo material for flute very ably on a new Naxos recording, with JoAnn Falletta and the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra providing top-notch support – in very modern guise, to be sure, but that is clearly what Foss intended. The three other works on the disc are many decades older. Ode dates to 1944 (revised in 1958) and, unlike Richard Strauss’ somewhat anticipatory ballet from before World War I, connects directly with World War II: it is a well-made if rather obvious expression of grief for lives lost and the dismal realities of warfare. The style here is neo-Classical – an approach that Foss favored when in his 20s – and somewhat derivative, although the work is skillfully crafted and delivered by Falletta and the orchestra with appropriate seriousness. Three American Pieces dates to the same time period, specifically to 1945, although the work was not orchestrated until 1989. Here the influence of Copland is clear, and the use of a solo violin (amiably played by Nikki Chooi) adds to the feeling of spaciousness associated with a considerable amount of American geography. Again, the work is on the derivative side, pleasant enough in its own way but not particularly consequential – although the concluding Composer’s Holiday movement and its pervasive “fiddling” style are enjoyable and certainly worth re-hearing. The most-substantial piece on this CD is Foss’ Symphony No. 1 (1944), which is shorter than his three later symphonies and quite different in character. There is some Copland-esque material here as well, but the primary evident influence is that of Hindemith, with whom Foss studied. The straightforward neo-classical structure of the symphony is evident from its clear home key (G) and traditional four-movement arrangement. The piece is somewhat scattered in approach – notably, the second movement starts with an elegant horn theme but soon engages in a rather trivial central section. The third-movement Scherzo has the most originality in its treatment of dance rhythms and orchestration, although the bouncy main part of the finale has an attraction all its own. Falletta conducts the symphony with the same flair she brings to all the music here, and if the disc gets a (+++) rating for the less-than-top-level attractiveness of its content, that is certainly no criticism of the performers, who give the somewhat bland and not entirely original material all the dedication and excellence of presentation that an audience with a strong interest in Foss’ music could wish for.