Born in 1877 in Klockrike, Daniel Jeisler’s studies 
                took him to Stockholm, where he excelled on piano and organ but 
                it was in Paris that he spent the majority of his life. There 
                he met Saint-Saëns amongst others, cultivating friendships 
                and accompanying such artists as Ninon Vallin, Pablo Casals and 
                Jacques Thibaud. He was organist at the Swedish Church in Paris 
                for over forty years, inaugurating concerts and composing; four 
                symphonies, sonatas for cello (his wife was a well-known cellist) 
                and other chamber works as well as a large number of songs and 
                organ music. 
              
 
              
His Introduction, chorale and variations for 
                organ dates from the last year of the First World War. It’s 
                an attractive work written securely in the French style with an 
                Andante section of powerful and gathering eloquence and intensity. 
                There are times though when, for all its security of technique 
                and musicianship, it does rather tread water. Given his knowledge 
                of the cello his idiomatic writing for it is only to be expected 
                and the 1921 First Cello Sonata, a big work in four movements, 
                is attractively wide-ranging in its freedom. The first movement 
                has an impressionistic burnish though it lacks a certain concision 
                of utterance, whilst the quick second movement is a playful one 
                and adopts a Ravelian cast in its mediation of the past with the 
                present. The old world baroquerie that Jeisler introduces co-exists 
                with scampering writing and amusing pizzicato episodes. Maybe 
                the players could have taken it quicker for optimum effect – it’s 
                marked Molto Vivace. Jeisler has a long-breathed Adagio but it’s 
                not really distinctive enough thematically and I preferred the 
                Finale, which opens musingly before developing some animated and 
                Brahmsian strength with nicely lyric edge. 
              
 
              
The Five Songs vary from light, then-contemporary 
                folk style to the use of subtle barquetta rhythm. The most impressive, 
                harmonically, is Rafales d’automne, which would be more than worth 
                hearing in a recital set in its historical and geographical context. 
                Finally the Adagio for string orchestra, taken from a radio 
                broadcast, which is rather Mahlerian (No.5) though it develops 
                some sinewy and agitated writing along the way. 
              
 
              
Performances are very sympathetic. There are 
                times when cellist Kerstin Elmqvist-Gornall is too backwardly 
                balanced in the Sonata but it matters very little since the playing 
                is enthusiastic. Soprano Kristina Furbacken has a light attractive 
                voice and does well by the songs. Notes are in French and Swedish. 
              
 
              
Jonathan Woolf