It came as a surprise to an American friend of 
                mine that I had never listened to a piece of music by Alan Hovhaness 
                before reviewing this CD. At least I have never consciously listened: 
                I am sure I have heard a few passages on the car radio whilst 
                driving to Scotland, or listening to Radio 3 whilst having an 
                early morning shave. But I have never sat down with one of this 
                composer’s works and given it my best shot. 
              My first impression was that it did not ‘do’ 
                for me. It seemed to lack structure; to be devoid of musical pegs 
                to hang my hat on.
              I had decided to approach this review with an 
                innocent ear. I did not even read the programme notes or look 
                up the composer’s entry in Grove or check out the excellent 
                but partially complete web pages. But we do not live in a void 
                – I did know one or two ‘facts’ about Hovhaness 
                that prejudiced (for good or ill) my mind. Firstly, I knew that 
                he wrote lots of symphonies – some 67 of them. I had seen 
                the Delos record covers and knew that he was prolific. I knew 
                also that he was regarded by many as a precursor of minimalism 
                and other post-modernist styles. It is reasonably common knowledge 
                that he had a clear out of his ‘juvenilia’ in 1940 
                and supposedly destroyed a thousand scores [apparently, this number 
                is exaggerated]. And last but not least I had read somewhere that 
                he had felt the acerbic side of Lenny Bernstein’s tongue 
                when the pair of them were at Tanglewood. 
              There is no for me need to give a biography of 
                the composer here. An excellent one has been written at http://www.hovhaness.com/
              Let’s look at the Symphony No. 22. It is 
                billed as Op. 236. I understand that the high opus number is due 
                to the composer’s attempt to reorder his works after the 
                1940 cull. Many works were recomposed, rewritten and ‘dished 
                up’ in new guises. The present work was written quite late, 
                in 1971. It was commissioned for the Birmingham (Alabama) Symphony 
                Orchestra to celebrate the centenary of the city itself. 
              What Hovhaness does is to sidestep any implicit 
                historical references to this particular city. He looks beyond 
                the tangible to the underlying reality. It is a platonic vision 
                of a metropolis. He wrote for the programme notes that he was 
                ‘thinking of a million lights, an imaginary city.’ 
                Now a lot comes down to one’s philosophical bent here: whether 
                we are idealist or realist, perhaps. Yet for the composer the 
                ‘ideal’ city was the more real because it is what 
                Birmingham had tried to model itself on. The real city is but 
                an imperfect image of the imaginary. He tries to create a city 
                that is beyond time and location. It is as if he is searching 
                for the Utopia that has been sought by mankind for millennia.
              The work as I first heard it was a bit like an 
                exploration. There were no really obvious themes - no ‘easy 
                to follow’ sonata form. What appears to happen is a slow 
                but sure expansion of the main theme over the course of the first 
                two movements. There is a stillness or repose introduced into 
                this first part of the part of the work that makes the music feel 
                spacious. One is not really aware of the passage of time here. 
                No wonder that some people see Hovhaness as a precursor to Reich, 
                Adams and Glass. It is not until the third movement that the music 
                ‘gets a move on’ with a very brief ‘scherzo’. 
                This is almost a dance movement – although just what ethnic 
                dance is represented here is difficulty to say. There is almost 
                something ‘Holstian’ about this movement – although 
                I am not suggesting direct influence!
              The last movement is where all the big action 
                happens. Here the composer uses every trick in the book – 
                including unusually for him at this stage - counterpoint and fugue. 
                The music certainly builds up into a huge climax that has been 
                described as being reminiscent of the Great Gate of Kiev by Mussorgsky. 
                The minimalist feel is ever present. The music seems to move on 
                by small, subtle development rather than being defined by any 
                classical form. However this is truly great music; the wanderer’s 
                journey is over. The true city has been found and has been found 
                to be glorious. We are happy to rest our weary souls in this City 
                of Light.
              For photos of Birmingham, Alabama see http://larryogay1.oceansfree.com/
              One of the early works that the composer decided 
                not to recycle to the waste bin was the Cello Concerto. This had 
                been composed in 1936. Now whether this work should take its place 
                alongside those of Dvorák and Elgar is for every listener 
                to decide for themselves. My first hearing of this work did not 
                impress me; I am not sure that I am impressed on a subsequent 
                hearing. I do not know Hovhaness’s music sufficiently well 
                to be able to evaluate this work in terms of further development 
                or prior achievement. However, the programme notes suggest that 
                many of the composer’s fingerprints are already present 
                - the use of ‘sequences of rich, sonorous chords and evocative 
                use of old modes.’ The big difference would appear to be 
                that there is lack of contrapuntal writing - a return to an earlier 
                style, perhaps. However I do not see this as being a big problem. 
                The constantly developing melody of the cello largely makes up 
                for this deficiency. There is a considerable chamber feel to much 
                of this music – none more so than the pairing of a single 
                flute with the soloist which is exquisite. 
              The concerto is written in three movements. The 
                two outer slow ones frame a short ‘Allegro’. There 
                are many lovely and very beautiful things in this work. Yet to 
                my mind there is an inherent imbalance. Perhaps the outer movements 
                outstay their welcome? To me the short middle movement is perfect 
                in form, balance and content.
              Having said all this, there is something about 
                this work that does haunt me. I will return to it again and give 
                it another go. There is something worthwhile that is hiding itself 
                from me. If only I could put my finger on it…
              I cannot fault the performance by the Seattle 
                Symphony Orchestra or the playing of the cellist Janos Starker. 
                The sound quality is perfect and lends itself to the spacious 
                sound that the composer creates. 
              The Symphony was conducted by the composer himself, 
                so presumably represents a definitive performance. 
              The programme notes could have been a bit more 
                extensive. I do not know these works so I need all the help I 
                can get. 
              After listening with an innocent ear, I read 
                up a little about the composer. I am left with the impression 
                that he is the kind of guy I could have problems with. For all 
                intents and purposes he is eclectic; using a variety of styles 
                culled from all over the world he appears to have created a unique 
                soundscape. However I do not yet know if this eclecticism will 
                prove hard to cope with. I wonder if we can ever pin him down 
                to a style. This remains to be seen, assuming I have the opportunity 
                to explore a bit further into his massive catalogue.
              
               John France