The
earliest work here, Prelude and Variations for
chamber orchestra, was completed in 1970; and the music possesses
some considerable harmonic tension when compared either to the
other pieces recorded here or with those featured in an earlier
North/South release that I reviewed some time ago (N/S R 1021).
The variations often bring Alban Berg to mind, i.e. as far as
the present writer is concerned. Do not forget that Schiffman
studied with Roger Sessions. This is a concise, but fairly substantial
work that deserves to be heard.
The
Chamber Concerto No.2 for piano, wind quintet
and string quartet, written at the request of Max Lifchitz and
first performed by the North/South Consonance Chamber Orchestra,
is exactly what its title is up to, i.e. a miniature piano concerto
in which the piano is more a partner than an outsider battling
against the ensemble. Though in one single movement, the piece
falls into four neatly contrasted section, actually a slow introduction,
a short Scherzo, a somewhat weightier set of variations and
a lively Finale. The music breathes the same air as some of
Schiffman’s late works that I have been able to hear, in that
it clearly belongs to some 20th century mainstream,
sometimes with modal inflections as in the variations section
that is sometimes redolent of Vaughan Williams, and none the
worse for that.
Alma for mezzo-soprano, chorus and orchestra, composed at the request of
the present conductor Mátyás Antal, sets some poems from Kathryn
Stripling Byer’s book Wildwood Flower that have obviously
impressed the composer “with their fascinating blend of mystery
and reality, and a strong feeling for nature” and words from
The Book of Job and The Song of Solomon suggested
by quotations that served as lead-ins in Byer’s book. The various
settings are preceded by a prelude At Kanati Fork that
opens with a ‘sighing’ motive over a long-held bass note that
will also conclude the work bringing it thus full circle. Although
the settings directly reflect the various moods suggested by
the words, this ‘sighing’ motive sets the mood of the whole
cantata, one of yearning and of nostalgia for what has been
and what might have been. The score is also held together by
another recurrent motive heard in the first part Alma
and restated with some insistence in the final section Ivy,
Sing Ivory that – to me at least – brings a phrase from
Poulenc’s Concert Champętre to mind. This may
be purely coincidental, of course; but I can not but wonder
if this allusion may – or may not – imply some hidden purpose.
Anyway, this may not be important. The music is what matters.
Again, it displays some modal inflections imbuing these settings
with some hints of folk tune. This is particularly clearly heard
in the last section (after all, Ivy, Sing Ivory is a
carol, if I am not mistaken). Moreover, Byer’s words also suggest
some folk songs, e.g. in Weep-Willow [track 7] that contains
the phrase some unquiet grave. Alma is
a quite beautiful and attractive work that could – and should
– appeal to good choral societies and to professional choirs
as well.
In
short, a very fine release that pays deserved tribute to a most
distinguished composer whose well-crafted and communicative
music repays repeated hearings. Fine performances recorded in
the presence of the composer. A slight drawback, though, for
the English pronunciation of these Hungarian singers is not
faultless, but not seriously so to mar one’s enjoyment.
Hubert
Culot
Mária Horváth (mezzo-soprano)a; Jane Perry-Camp (piano)c;
Budafok Chamber Choira; Györ Philharmonic Orchestraa;
Hungarian Philharmonicb; Accord Wind Quintetc; Akadémia
String Quartetc; Mátyás Antal
