To explore the music
of Ernst Toch is to be borne away by
the spirit of discovery. Always there
is the feeling of a fertile imagination
at work, of a supremely capable compositional
mind in control.
Previous encounters
with Toch recordings on CPO have proved
both fascinating and rewarding: String
Quartets Nos. 11 and 13 and Symphonies Nos. 2 and 3
. See my string quartet review for
background on this composer.
An invaluable catalogue
of Toch’s works is available on the
Web
. It confirms that the date for the
Fourth Symphony is Summer 1957 (not
1947, as CPO’s booklet states). Toch
wrote his symphonies between 1950 and
1964, the year of his death. A massively
late starting point, one might argue
given Toch was born in 1887; but what
a flowering this is!.
The forty-minute First
Symphony is a tour-de-force. Dedicated
to Joseph Fuchs, the score is preceded
by a quote from Luther’s ‘A Mighty Fortress
is our God’; the line reads, ‘And if
the world were full of devils’. Toch
wrote the work in Vienna and it is fascinating
to track its early performance history
(in fact it is probable that an ‘early’
performance history is all we have -
just to what extent has this fallen
out of the repertory in Germany and
Austria?). The première, in December
1950, was given by the Vienna Symphony
Orchestra under Herbert Häfner
(who recorded it on LP on EMA 101, Ed.),
but just listen to the roll-call of
names that took the work under their
wing: Klemperer (Concertgebouw Orchestra,
1951), Keilberth (Cologne Radio Symphony
Orchestra, 1952) and William Steinberg
(Pittsburgh, 1953).
Toch’s aural imagination
is immediately apparent in the mysterious,
sliding string gestures that open the
work, and the woodwind comments ...
and listen to how the Berlin RSO’s section
move as one! There is much to delight
here, in the percussion-flecked moments,
or in the playful imitation around 8’00.
Listen also to the melodic doubles several
octaves apart, leaving a massive ‘hole’,
filled by oscillating woodwind figures.
This is extremely effective writing.
The second movement
begins with a dramatic brass call before
settling into scurrying figures more
fitting of a Scherzo function. The interruptive
percussion barrage at around 5’40 must
surely have been written tongue-in-cheek.
A slow third movement begins with an
extended unaccompanied flute solo -
marvellously expressive on this recording.
The movement is generally delicate and
chromatically coloured, harmonically.
The finale begins with what must surely
have been a reference to (actually nearer
to a quote from) the opening of the
second part of Berg’s Violin Concerto,
before embarking on a more Tochian trajectory
of its own. Here the counterpoint is
of a decidedly determined aspect, but
held within a generally fantastical
world. All credit to orchestra, conductor
and recording team (Klaus Bischke, Producer;
Henri Thaon, Engineer) for a magnificent
realisation.
The Fourth Symphony
was premièred in November 1957
(not 1947, as the booklet notes claim)
by the Minneapolis Symphony under Antal
Dorati. It was written for Marian MacDowell
(widow of composer Edward), as an expression
of ‘gratitude to a great woman of the
American cultural scene’ (Toch). Mrs
MacDowell ran an artists’ colony in
New Hampshire, a creative retreat that
Toch visited on several occasions. The
score requires spoken words, reprinted
in the booklet, but spoken in English,
here by the conductor Alun Francis,
that celebrate Mrs MacDowell’s achievements.
The generally excellent
booklet notes surprise when they state
that the first movement is ‘by far the
longest of the three’ - well actually,
only by 1 minute 42 seconds! There is
a lamenting tone to the violins’ opening,
long unison line, terrifically played
here. It is together, in tune and fully
in keeping with the music’s desolate
nature. The solo flute’s long, almost
shakuhachi-like solo around seven minutes
in mirrors this perfectly. Toch’s achievement
is that he marries an almost Bachian
contrapuntal purity with evocative,
meandering whisperings from a different
world.
The skittish second
movement is certainly dance-like in
this cheeky performance - the wind are
again a delight. Silvery colourings
from the celesta caress the ear. In
stark contrast comes the forthright
octave of the finale’s opening and its
ensuing plunging melodic lines. Later
on, Toch enters a mysterious, internal
world. The very ending disappears into
nothing, aptly. Superb.
Recommended with all
possible enthusiasm.
Colin Clarke
Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra/Alun Francis (reciter).
