Boris Blacher: Paganini Variations op. 26 (1947), Orchester Ornament op. 44 (1953), Studie im Pianissimo op. 45 (1953), Orchester Fantasie (1956). The Louisville Orchestra, Robert Whitney, Jorge Mester (in Ornament), Lawrence Leighton Smith (in Paganini Variations). First Edition Music FECD-0040 (2005) barcode 809157004028
Studie im Pianissimo recorded X.54, Columbia Auditorium, Louisville
Orchester Fantasie recorded 22.XI.66, Orchester Ornament recorded V-VI.68, both Macauley Theater, Louisville.
Paganini Variations recorded 10.IV.85, Robert Whitney Hall, Louisville
Inventive in its middle-of-the-road modern language, and an unexpected good surprise in this series of Louisville reissues
Originally posted on Amazon.com, 26 January 2008
This Blacher disc came as one of the unexpected good surprise of my on-going survey of the Louisville recorded heritage.
I knew the music of Blacher through various records, including the Herbert Kegel / Berlin Classics release featuring the same Paganini Variations played here by the Louisville Orchestra, the Concertante Musik from 1937 and the 2nd Piano Concerto from 1952 (Berlin Classics 0090152BC barcode 782124901523, see my review on Amazon.com pending repost here, link will open new tab). The impression I was left with led me to rank him, in my private pantheon, certainly not among the leading 20th Century German/Austrian masters of modern music such as the Schoenberg-Berg-Webern Holy Trinity or Hindemith, and not even with composers with such uniquely personal voices and outlooks as Weill, Hartmann or Zimmermann, but rather among the second or even third-tier masters, in a broad category which would include composers such as (in decreasing order of preference) Eisler, Dessau, Krenek and Von Einem – composers who embraced modernism but not radically so, content to ride safely in the middle of that road and never developing a uniquely distinctive and unmistakably recognizable voice.
In fact I find the compositions on this Louisville disc better than that.
The Paganini Variations from 1947 are Blacher’s most famous and oft-recorded composition but, as is often the case, I don’t find it his best. The interest of Blacher’s take on Paganini’s famous 24th Caprice is that the original theme is so famous (witness Brahms, Rachmaninoff, Lutoslawski and many others) that the composer can, in his elaboration upon it, stray pretty far from it, to the point of making it almost unrecognizable. But overall the piece’s language is brilliant and colorful but not very inventive, a run-of-the-mill and mild-mannered modernism that would justify my preconceptions. There are no major differences between Leighton-Smith’s approach and Herbert Kegel’s, most variations even compare to the second except for a few of them, but Berlin Classics’ 1980 recording does have a marked edge in terms of sheer sonic presence and, consequently, of dramatic impact over the 1985 Louisville recording. Also, contrary to the Berlin disc, the individual variations do not get separate cues. As many of them develop organically into the next one, you will find it difficult to spot the new one just playing by ear. Here’s a tracking:
(1)0:17 (2)0:50 (3)1:25 (4)2:25 (5)3:17 (6)3:36 (7)4:09 (8)4:47 (9)6:39 (10)7:22 (11)8:45 (12)9:25 (13)10:01 (14)10:48 (15)11:22 (16)12:53
The other pieces on the disc – all premiere recordings and, for the Study in pianissimo, a Lousiville commission as well – are much more daring and inventive.
The liner notes insist on what is supposedly Blacher’s main claim to fame – not the Paganini Variations, as one would have expected, but his composition method called “variable meter”, by which Blacher, from the 1950s on, sought to organize his rhythmic architecture by using regular progressions of the metrical signatures (or number of beats per measure), following simple arithmetic or more complex geometric rules. But insisting on this aspect is, I find, besides the point – what the cook does in his kitchen is none of the eater’s concern, who only cares about what he gets in his plate and how that tastes in his mouth: and such progressions are not what primarily jumps to the ear.
Studie im Pianissimo (1953) is, as its name indicates, a remarkable short (8′) etude in which the orchestra is confined to the pianissimo nuance. Dynamics are given by shifting the weight of the orchestra, from solo to tutti, starting very pointillistically, building up to whiffs of musical phrases, at times agitated like a ghostly wind, and ending in a chord made up of all twelve tones. You could be in Schoenberg’s Klangfarbenmelodie (melody of timbres) from the Five pieces opus 16. It is terse, enigmatic and hauntingly fascinating. Too bad the 1954 recording deprives it of some of its color and hence impact.
Orchestral Ornament (1953) is delicately chamber-like in its orchestration, and the moods go from the two longing slow movement to the agitated and motoric fast ones, vaguely bringing to mind some of the chamber pieces written by Henze in the same years, or perhaps some of Stravinsky’s neo-classical utterances (Octet for winds, Symphony in Three Movements, Rake’s Progress). It is alternately subtle and dynamic, masterfully crafted.
The same subtlety of chamber-like orchestration pervades the Orchester Fantasie from 1956, and the piece is full of ear-catching touches of orchestration, such as the scurrying repeated notes passed on to each other by the various string sections, and the upwards brass (trombones, I think) glissandos in the Presto (track 8), and later in the same movement the downward sul ponticello scales followed by similar ostinatos played by woodwinds and brass. The short and terse Adagio is a plangent dialogue of chromatic melodies played by solo viola, cello and violin against ghostly upward and downward woodwind scales (a gesture typical of Alban Berg), and the ensuing Vivace is rhythmically robust, brassy and dramatic (vaguely anticipating Lutoslawski’s final compositions), with again many subtle touches of orchestral color. There are moments of searing lyricism in the coda, which rises to a climax of dramatic intensity.
Surely nothing in these three works is earth-shattering, but they are full of unexpected and ear-catching musical events, which unfailingly grab one’s attention and make one want to investigate more of Blacher.
Studie im Pianissimo first came out on LOU 545-07, one of the first LPs to be released by the famous Louisville First Edition Records label. It was paired back then with Vincent Persichetti’s Symphony for Strings (now on First Edition Music FECD-0034 with more of the composer, link will open new tab to my review) and Robert Sanders’ Little Symphony #2 (not reissued to CD).
Unlike the Variations, the various sections of Orchester Ornament and Orchester Fantasie, though played without break, are commendably cued. The latter was recorded in 1966 and comes in vivid stereo. It was first published on LS 671 with Andrzej Panufnik’s Rhapsody (now on FECD-0017 with more Panufnik from Louisville, link to my review). Orchester Ornament came in 1968 on LS 685 with Poulenc’s “Deux Marches et un intermède” and Milhaud’s “Cortège Funèbre” – only the latter has been reissued to CD, on FECD-0031 with more Milhaud from Louisville). Finally, the Variations came on LS 792 with Charles Wuorinen’s “Magic Art” (not reissued to CD). See my Louisville CD-discography for everything about the CD reissues of the Louisville recordings.
TT is an acceptable 56+.