Witold Lutoslawski: Fanfare for Louisville, Karel Husa: Apotheosis of this Earth, Monodrama (Portrait of an Artist), Paul Creston: Invocation and Dance. The Louisville Orchestra, Lawrence Leighton Smith, Karel Husa (in Husa). First Edition Recordings LCD005 (1991) barcode 034063000523
Husa recorded 12.II.83, Memorial Auditorium, Louisville
Lutoslawski recorded 29.IV.87, Robert Whitney Hall, Louisville
Creston recorded 22.IX.90, Memorial Auditorium
Apotheosis reissued First Edition Music FECD-0009 (2002) barcode 809157000099 (with Music For Prague conducted by Jorge Mester):
Lutoslawski reissued First Edition Music FECD-1909 “Polski Nowoczesny” (Polish Modern) (2006) barcode 809157190929 (link will open new tab to my review)
Two substantial compositions of Karel Husa
Originally posted on Amazon.com, 13 February 2007
This valuable Louisville First Edition Recordings CD, released in 1991, gathers two substantial compositions of Karel Husa conducted by himself, to which two smaller pieces – and Louisville commissions – by Lutoslawski and Paul Creston have been added.
Creston’s Invocation and Dance dates from 1953. It is traditional in its musical language, and I hear in it echoes of Debussy, Ravel, Walton, Bernstein…. Pleasant, but not memorable. Back in 1954, Orchestra’s founder Robert Whitney had made a recording of it as part of the very first Louisville LP, LOU 545-01, and it was simultaneously released (with other couplings) on Columbia ML 5039, the third of Columbia’s three early LP releases of the orchestra. That early recording has not been reissued to CD (but it is available as download).
Lutoslawski’s Fanfare, written in 1986 in response to a commission to celebrate the Louisville Orchestra’s 50th Anniversary, is actually scored for the full symphony orchestra and its all too short 1:15 minutes are very much a pendant to his 3rd symphony.
Husa’s “Apotheosis of This Earth” has never been more topical than today. “Man’s brutal possession and misuse of nature’s beauty – if continued at today’s reckless speed – can only lead to catastrophe. The composer hopes that the destruction of this beautiful earth can be stopped, so that the tragedy of destruction can exist only as fantasy, never to become reality”. These are the explanatory notes written by the composer to accompany the composition, completed… in 1971. It was originally written for wind band and then rescored in 1973 for full orchestra, with the striking addition of a wordless (until the last movement) chorus, which is how it is performed here. This same, composer-conducted recording of Apotheosis was reissued in 2002 on First Edition Music FECD-0009 with the composer’s famed Music for Prague 1968, conducted by Louisville’s long-time music director and successor to Robert Whitney, Jorge Mester. Apotheosis is viewed by the composer as part of a triptych which includes Music for Prague and the ballet The Trojan Women (1980), concerned with the woes of Mankind. The Trojan Women was also recorded by the Louisville Orchestra and reissued on another First Edition Music CD in 2004, FECD-0023 (link to my review). For the intricacies, details and links of Louisville’s legacy on CD, see my Louisville CD-discography (link will open new tab).
It is programmatic and evocative music then, though not downright descriptive. The first movement starts with mysterious, slow moving, long held high notes, first monophonic and almost computer-like, with interjections by bells, xylophone and other ringing percussion instruments. In the course of its 12 and ½ minutes duration it rises to a menacing climax buttressed by the wordless chorus (imperceptibly ushered in after 6 minutes), then recedes back to its starting point. According to the composer it depicts planet earth viewed from a great distance, “a point of light in the universe”. It evokes some memories of Vaughan Williams, Holst or Honegger and could be music to a Sci-Fi film – a little too much so for the demanding listerer’s complete fulfilment, perhaps, but it is effective nonetheless.
With its brutal, relentless onslaught of pounding, unleashed percussion, brass interjections and wordless male then mixed chorus, the second movement represents the destruction of the planet by Mankind. A parallel can be easily drawn with the second movement of Husa’s Music for Prague, depicting the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia. Around 5 minutes into the movement the chorus’ vocal line turns into screams, to which are added sounds of clapped hands (the chorus’, one surmises) and one can easily imagine Mankind falling into the burning mouth of Hell. It is immensely effective and must be even more in concert.
The last movement returns to the same atmosphere as the first, but here evoking the shattered splinters of the planet. Onomatopeia can be heard from the chorus, out of which isolated voices eventually emerge, uttering the spoken words, over tersely enigmatic notes by flute and xylophone: “this… beautiful… earth”.
Ever since Wagner and his Lohengrin, composers have turned their interrogations, anxieties and frustrations about the artist’s role and isolation in society (and more specifically their own) into works of music. I don’t think anyone of them have been very perceptive in their sociological analyses (they always self-consciously exaggerate the “Artist’s” importance and influence, and today more so than ever, when nobody gives a hoot anymore) but they have produced great music, and Husa’s ballet “Monodrama (Portrait of an Artist)” from 1976, inspired by James Baldwin’s book “The Creative Process”, adds to the long list. Its stark, bleak, brooding music seems unlikely stuff to be set to dance (but trust the choreographers!), but as absolute music, it is terrific, dramatic and effective.
The recordings were made between 1983 and 1990 and they are rendered in excellent sound. Good, informative notes.