Oscar Straus: Der Traum ein Leben; Die Prinzessin von Tragant. Brandenburgisches Staatsorchester Frankfurt conducted by Ernst Theis. CPO. $18.99.
Music for Cello and Piano by Manuel de Falla, Béla Bartók, Sulkhan Tsintsadze, Nadia Boulanger, Robert Schumann, Pablo de Sarasate, and Gabriel Fauré. Christoph Croisé, cello; Ana Bakradze, piano. AVIE. $19.99.
Oscar Straus (1870-1954) is now remembered mostly for his operetta scores and his determination not to be confused with members of the famous Strauss family (his name was in fact Strauss: he dropped the final “s” on purpose in his professional life, to avoid conflation with a dynasty to which he was not related). But nine years before he became internationally known in 1907 through his operetta Ein Walzertraum, he was already making a name for himself in Europe with Der Traum ein Leben, an interestingly conceived symphonic poem that was originally planned as a concert overture but that Straus expanded by adding a prologue and epilogue. The dream of the title is an anti-heroic one with distinct folk-tale elements: the protagonist, who takes credit for saving the life of a king who was actually saved by a mysterious “man from the rock,” then kills the “man from the rock” when that character reappears and demands a reward. Eventually tormented by guilt, the protagonist throws himself from a bridge – and the dreamer awakens. Franz Grillparzer (1791-1872), who wrote the story underlying the Straus music, called it a “dramatic fairy tale,” and Straus does a fine job of contrasting the drama with his work’s pastoral introduction and calm, relaxed epilogue. Ernst Theis and the Brandenburgisches Staatsorchester Frankfurt emphasize the contrasts inherent in the music effectively on a new release from CPO – and then offer a Straus work even more deeply fairy-tale-like, his one-act 1912 ballet Die Prinzessin von Tragant. Here Straus’ skill with waltzes is especially apparent: the Liebeswalzer and concluding Jubelwalzer are highlights of music that is distinctly old-fashioned (as unlike the contemporaneous Le Sacre du Printemps as can be imagined) and very well-crafted throughout. The Straus waltzes have a distinctive style that is noticeably different from Strauss waltzes, but they have lilt and captivating rhythms all their own, and are well-complemented by other dances and other forms: menuett, gavotte, march, polka and more. The general story of the ballet involves a princess who rejects three suitors but is eventually captivated by a somewhat overactive young man named Kreisel (“spinning top”). Shorn of details of its scenario, which this recording does not provide, Die Prinzessin von Tragant simply flows as a sequence of pleasant, carefully orchestrated and distinctly balletic movements that could fit a variety of imagined fairy-tale scenarios neatly. Theis leads the music with enthusiasm and contrasts the elements of the stage production quite well, and if the work is not especially distinctive – it is redolent of much earlier ballets – it is filled with tuneful pleasantries that make it enjoyable to hear from start to finish.
“Tuneful pleasantries” is a phrase that could also apply to an AVIE recording of music by seven composers chosen by Christoph Croisé and Ana Bakradze because of their supposed engagement with their various countries’ folk music – even though the “folk” elements are often only implied or hinted at rather than genuinely incorporated into the musical fabric. The CD is essentially a collection of encores – both original compositions for cello and piano and arrangements for this combination – that are performed very well and will be attractive to listeners enamored of these specific players and/or this instrumental combination. De Falla’s Suite populaire espagnole, originally written for voice, is heard first on the disc, and two of Fauré’s works are heard last: Après un rêve from Trois Mélodies, and Sicilienne. The de Falla connection with Spanish folklore is apparent throughout, but any such connection in Fauré – and in the other French music here, Nadia Boulanger’s Trois Pièces pour violoncello et piano – is a great deal more tenuous. On balance, the insistence that some sort of “folk” element explains or justifies this combination of music is rather strained, and the CD is best listened to simply for the works’ innate qualities and the skill with which Croisé and Bakradze bring them out. This is not to say that folk elements are entirely absent, though – quite the contrary. Bartók’s Romanian Folk Dances are explicitly connected to their country of origin, as are 5 Pieces on Georgian Folk Themes by Sulkhan Tsintsadze (1925-1991). Bakradze, who was born in Tbilisi, seems especially to relish the oversize emotionalism on display in Tsintsadze’s pieces, and Croisé takes to them with equal enthusiasm. Of particular note on this recording are the remaining two works: Schumann’s 5 Stücke im Volkston, whose title accurately reflects folklike elements that are not actually taken directly from folk music, and a rousing cello-and-piano version of Sarasate’s Zigeunerweisen. The Schumann is a more substantial and in some ways more serious work than the others on the disc, although its placement midway through the CD somewhat vitiates its comparative significance. And the Sarasate encapsulates both the pluses and the minuses of the whole recording: this piece sounds much more dynamic and dramatic in its original violin-and-orchestra version, but the intensity with which Croisé and Bakradze approach it makes this alternative arrangement a striking one on its own terms. As a whole, this is a (+++) CD that features very fine playing in the service of an attempted thematic connection among the pieces that is not quite convincing – a state of affairs for which the disc almost makes up through the enthusiasm of the performances.
No comments:
Post a Comment