June 11, 2026

(+++) RETHINKINGS

Tchaikovsky: Variations on a Rococo Theme; Romeo and Juliet Fantasy-Overture; Pezzo capriccioso; Six Morceaux, Op. 19—No. 4; Six Morceaux, Op. 51—No. 6; Violin Concerto—Canzonetta. Gabriel Schwabe, cello; Sinfonieorchester Aachen conducted by Christopher Ward. Naxos. $19.99. 

Schubert: Wandrers Nachtlied II; Am See; Auf dem Wasser zu singen; Vaughan Williams: On Wenlock Edge; Ives: The Housatonic at Stockbridge; Patrick Castillo: Skyline Palimpsest; Vivian Fung: Lamenting Earth. Nicholas Phan, tenor; Myra Huang, piano; Jasper String Quartet (J Freivogel and Karen Kim, violins; Andrew Gonzalez, viola; Rachel Henderson Freivogel, cello). AVIE. $19.99. 

     It is facile but demonstrably incorrect to think that the familiar, customarily performed versions of well-known musical works are the versions. Aside from instances such as the vocal version of the Blue Danube Waltz and the two separate Prokofiev symphonies that both are listed as No. 4, there are many, many pieces that are commonly played a certain way but are equally authentic in others. That fact lies at the heart of a rather ill-assorted set of works performed by Gabriel Schwabe and/or Sinfonieorchester Aachen under Christopher Ward on a recent Naxos release. That “and/or” is part of what makes the disc a rather peculiar one. Of the six Tchaikovsky works on it, five feature cello solo but the longest piece does not. And among the five in which Schwabe is at the forefront, two are world première recordings of his own arrangements – one of which is very odd indeed. And even works that listeners may think they know well sound different here, because the versions on this disc are ones that predate some modifications made in Tchaikovsky’s lifetime and perpetuated since then. Thus, the CD opens with a performance of Variations on a Rococo Theme in which the variations are given out of the order in which they are usually heard – because this is Tchaikovsky’s original sequence, which cellist Wilhelm Fitzenhagen, the work’s dedicatee, modified for his own purposes; and the changes stuck, resulting in the much-more-usual way the piece is played. Next is Pezzo capriccioso, a very serious work (despite its title) that was first performed on cello and piano and not in its version with orchestra, heard here, until a year and half later. Here too the cellist for whom the piece was written – in this case, Anatoly Brandukov – altered the cello part to make it more to his own liking, and here too the changed version is the one usually heard, with the current recording restoring the original. Brandukov is also the cellist for whom Tchaikovsky arranged the fourth of his Six Morceaux, Op. 19, a Nocturne; that arrangement follows Pezzo capriccioso on this disc. Then come the two brand-new arrangements by Schwabe. The first is of the slow movement from Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto, and hearing it on the cello is very strange indeed – although it must be said that the movement’s warmth and lyricism fit the cello quite well. This is followed by Valse sentimentale, No. 6 from the Six Morceaux, Op. 51 – a trifle of a piece that is pleasantly unassuming both in its original form and as heard here. And after all this cello-focused material, the CD moves to the Romeo and Juliet Fantasy-Overture, which has no solo cello part and really does not fit with anything else on the disc except for being by the same composer as the rest of the works. Furthermore, this is not the hyper-familiar 1880 final version of the work – it is the intermediate, second version that was published in 1870 and first performed in 1872. In it are notable differences from the version usually used: the entire climactic section, which is the recapitulation in the work’s sonata form, is different in emphasis and effect. What to make of all this? It is hard to see what audience the CD is intended for: the performances are quite good (although Romeo and Juliet, despite fine orchestral playing, is somewhat lacking in sweep and drama), but the collection of pieces is a hodgepodge, and the instances of rearrangements or restoration of less-known versions are more academically than musically significant. The disc is perhaps best thought of as a curious addition for the collection of audiences strongly devoted to Tchaikovsky and interested in some of the byways associated with the shaping of some of his works. 

     Several pieces on a new AVIE disc are not so much rethought as repurposed: this is one of those politically aware recordings in which music is at the service of a supposedly higher calling – in this case, the relationship between humans and the environment. To make its point, the CD takes Schubert, Vaughan Williams and Ives out of context and mixes them with two contemporary works that are intentionally designed to make sociopolitical points. The result is a rather odd collection redeemed (from a musical standpoint) in much the same way as the Tchaikovsky disc: through generally very fine performances. Nicholas Phan’s voice is beautifully expressive in the three Schubert songs, whose wistful lyricism shines through with warmth and emotional commitment. The even greater emotional range of Vaughan Williams’ settings of A.E. Housman’s A Shropshire Lad in On Wenlock Edge gives Phan plenty of scope for emoting, and he very clearly conveys the skillful ways in which Vaughan Williams accentuates Housman’s placing of human feelings and emotions both within grand natural settings and outside of them. Political intentionality aside, this is a highly sensitive and thoughtful interpretation of the work. Ives’ The Housatonic at Stockbridge, arranged by him for voice and piano after first being used as the third of his Three Places in New England, contrasts appealingly and very effectively with On Wenlock Edge, being mostly quieter and more strongly philosophical. Here Phan melds his voice with the complexities of the piano part to very fine effect, and Myra Huang’s accompaniment is very much to the point – as indeed it is throughout this recording. However, the main extramusical purpose of this CD comes after the Schubert, Vaughan Williams and Ives material, in two contemporary works. Skyline Palimpsest by Patrick Castillo (born 1979) is an instrumental piece intended to reflect the past, present and potential future of New York City – a schema not clear from the music itself and thus requiring listeners to know the work’s reason for being in order to try to hear elements of its argument as it proceeds. It is dissonant enough and ambiguous enough to fit pretty much any scenario that an audience may envision. The CD is designed to build to its final entry, Lamenting Earth by Vivian Fung (born 1975), which is much more direct: it sets poetry by Claire Wahmanholm in four songs focused unerringly on climate change and the regrets, fears and demands for action associated with it. The vocal settings are as straightforward in their tone painting as the words are in their verbal precision, and here Phan’s determination to be expressive leads only to making the obvious sound over-obvious. This is one of those pieces filled with well-meaning verbiage and determined musical underlining; and it is quite focused on giving “Generation Z” a voice, incorporating a variety of student comments into the text. “My body is more sorrow than water,” “the birds swirling recklessly throughout the hurting skies,” “death knocks on our doors,” and other forthright if scarcely unconventional expressions of sorrow, worry and fear mingle with music intended, ultimately, as a call to – what? Concern, action, understanding, determination, resilience? Not apathy, surely – but the music itself is less effective than the composer and performers clearly hope it will be as a rallying cry of some sort. The CD as a whole moves musically from sensitivity, subtlety and thoughtfulness to a kind of hectoring that may be justified by circumstance but that is unlikely to change minds or spur actions among those not already inclined to think as these words and this music insist they should be thinking.

No comments:

Post a Comment