Francis Thorne: Symphony No. 5 (1984), Nicolas Roussakis: Fire and Earth and Water and Air (1983), Elliott Carter: Symphony No. 1 (1942). American Composers Orchestra, Dennis Russell Davis (in Thorne), Paul Dunkel. CRI CD 552 (1988), no barcode, then 090438055222
Thorne recorded 12 January 1987 at Manhattan Center
Roussakis recorded 4 December 1984 at Manhattan Center
Carter recorded February 1982 at the Walt Whitman Auditorium, Brooklyn College
The best version of Carter’s early Symphony, and two fine companions
Originally posted on Amazon.com, 14 October 2013
There is no great program or stylistic coherence in this CD, part issue part reissue, by CRI. Elliott Carter’s early Symphony No. 1 was composed in 1942 in a “populist” and Copland-reminiscent style that will come as a surprise to those expecting to hear a harbinger of the tougher, avant-garde composer that Carter developed into starting with his Variations for Orchestra in 1955 (the Symphony was premiered in 1944 by Howard Hanson, that’s how modern it sounds), and it makes a strange bedfellow with Francis Thorne’s 5th Symphony from 1984 and Nicolas Roussakis’ Fire and Earth and Water and Air from 1983. The original LP release of Carter’s Symphony, on SD 475, paired with the 1939 Pocahontas-Suite and the 1944 Holiday-Overture, all recorded by Paul Dunkel and the American Composer’s Orchestra in February 1982, was more satisfactory, as it was the perfect presentation of the early compositional efforts of Carter, or “Carter before Carter”. Now the two complements are on an all-Carter CRI CD released in 1992, CD 610 (link will open new tab to my review), complemented by “Syringa” with Jan de Gaetani and Thomas Paul under Harvey Sollberger, a tough modernistic Carter composition, originally released on LP SD 489 with a reissue of Bernstein’s CBS recording of Concerto for Orchestra. In fact the three early Carter compositions and Syringa would have nicely fit on a generous CD totalling circa 74 minutes. Opportunity lost, made all the more frustrating by the fact that the readings of Paul Dunkel, in the Symphony and the Holiday-Overture, are much preferable to the subsequent versions of Kenneth Schermerhorn on Naxos 8.559151 (link to my review), which now appear as the most convenient and cheapest way to listen to the early Carter. But Schermerhorn takes a very expansive approach (compare his timings in the Symphony of 10:00 / 11:26 / 7:18 to Dunkel’s 8:07 / 10:17 / 6:36), that pastoralizes the music and loses, especially in the first movement of the Symphony, the element of dynamic propulsion that is, arguably, essential to Carter’s composition and compositional outlook in those years. Likewise, Dunkel’s more animated tempo in the slow movement makes the music passionate, where it sounds contemplative and majestic under Schermerhorn, and in the Finale you haven’t heard what “vivacious” is until you’ve heard Dunkel. Naxos’ 2001 sonics are more spacious and comfortable than CRI’s, but afford less orchestral impact. For Carter’s Symphony (and Holiday Overture), Dunkel/CRI is first choice.
But the possible frustration from the missed opportunity and the hodge-podge pairings is to a large extent relieved by the excellence of Carter’s new companions. Thorne’s Symphony (conducted by Dennis Russell Davies, a recording made on January 12, 1987) is stylistically variegated, starting in a manner that lets you anticipate a big neo-romantic piece, but it then moves in unexpected directions, with, at 2:26 into the first movement, a sardonic, scherzando and jazz-derived episode, thorny and angular, followed by a short Scherzo proper in the same mood. Thorne’s brooding, somber and intense slow movement displays many of the gestures typical of the American populist or neo-romantic symphony (like the plangent opening melody of English Horn then dialoguing with flute) that might have seemed impossibly trite and re-hashed, if it wasn’t for Thorne’s ability to develop melodies and orchestration that never go in predictable and sentimental directions. The Finale also starts with a slow and quasi-romantic introduction that links it to the previous movement, before another sardonic and loudly agitated quasi-scherzando movement takes over. There’s nothing revolutionary to Thorne’s Symphony, but it offers many rewards, and its very unpredictability is one of its main assets. Its last and brilliant touch is (beware: spoiler!) the Finale’s final and eruptive chord… followed by another one, harmonically more inconclusive.
Dunkel is again at the helm in Nicolas Roussakis’ Fire and Earth and Water and Air, recorded on December 4, 1984. Roussakis’ tone poem is based on Plato’s Timaeus, which gives him occasion to depict in music the transition from chaos to order. You know how it sounds when an orchestra tunes before the concert: that’s exactly what Roussakis demands of the orchestra at the start to depict chaos, until “the conductor starts beating time and gradually brings `order out of disorder'” and consonance to dissonance, in the form of a lush sustained chord. He then states four contrasted themes, representing (and evoking musically) fire, earth, water, air, and combines and develops them into a great piece, inventive, imaginative, evocative, written in a compositional style that partakes of the “atmospheric” tone painting of Ligeti and the 20th century compositional “school” that goes less for melody (whether tonally or serially organized) than for timbres and textures and orchestral atmospheres. But Roussakis doesn’t entirely fit that model either, and some moments fugitively evoked the music of Messiaen as well.
Makes me want to explore more Roussakis. Maybe that was the rationale of CRI with these seemingly arbitrary pairings: if you want to hear Carter’s early Symphony, you’ll have to give a try to Thorne and Roussakis. If so, I’ll reluctantly concede it: great thinking!
TT 70:24.