For devotees of Swiss
composer Frank Martin, this CD might
be indispensable, although the same
performance of the Cello Concerto does
appear on Q Disc’s 14-disc collection,
Bernard Haitink: the Radio Recordings.
(Granted, you have to buy the entire
box to get it.) Taped from live performances,
these are totally winning recordings.
In addition, both of these pieces seem
to be rare on disc, which is a bit of
a surprise given their high quality.
The superb cellist,
Jean Decroos, is the soloist in the
Concerto, originally written for Pierre
Fournier and dedicated to Paul Sacher,
and the work is cast in three movements
that are all approximately the same
length. The Allegro moderato,
opens with an impassioned phrase for
the cello alone, which is then joined
by the orchestra. This is followed by
a gentle, introspective Adagietto,
and then the somewhat quizzical, elegant
Finale vivace. Decroos attacks
the piece with great vigor, not sacrificing
precision in the process. In the second
movement, Decroos weaves in and out
of the ensemble with a beautifully fluid
touch. One of the photographs in the
booklet shows him shaking hands with
Martin, so I daresay Mr. Decroos speaks
with some authority – the performance
certainly sounds that way. Further,
in his eloquent hands this work stands
as a contender for consideration as
one of the world’s great cello concertos.
I was not familiar with the piece before
this hearing, but have played it four
or five times since the recording arrived.
The Four Elements
was written for Ernest Ansermet’s eightieth
birthday, and is a short, impressionistic
study of each. Earth opens with
a fanfare, a sort of "tuning"
effect, and then the orchestra makes
a relentless stride until the end repeats
the opening. Water has a swirling
feel that reminded me somewhat of parts
of Ravel’s Daphnis et Chloe,
and Air is notable for some winsome
woodwind parts. Fire is the most
frenzied of the four, with yet more
echoes of the Earth motifs here
and there, and then that fanfare appears
again, before the work ends quietly.
Martin’s colors are appealing, in a
more tonal idiom than most, even during
a period when others were exploring
more atonal systems of composition (some
of which still pester listeners to this
day). The suavity in these pieces reminds
me of the elegance of Stravinsky’s Pulcinella.
I can’t imagine the average classical
listener not responding to Martin’s
mellow glow.
The live ambience is
quite pleasant, with occasional audience
noises evident but hardly distracting,
and some tape hiss but not enough for
my ears to care, and I will confess
to a preference for modern sound in
general with recordings. The orchestra
plays beautifully, with a warm, well-blended
tone that suits the material nicely.
Given the recording dates, just five
years apart, this project also serves
as a nice snapshot of the group’s excellent
work with Haitink during that decade,
and for those who admire this conductor,
this may be an essential purchase. One
small caveat is the total CD time, which
is just shy of 45 minutes. That might
have been all right in 1980, but in
2004, I’d have included a third, even
a fourth, Martin work just to make consumers
happier.
Bruce Hodges
Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra/Bernard Haitink
