On receiving this disc
for review, I was intrigued. Here was
a recording of music lost for decades,
a recording of a collaboration between
émigré composers with
potentially searing political and religious
overtones, written at a time of turmoil.
Unfortunately, the music itself did
not live up to my expectations. The
term "collaboration" can only
be applied loosely to the Genesis
Suite, as each composer wrote in
isolation from his colleagues and the
result is inconsistent in idiom and
lacks a musical through-line. The best
movements, as one would expect, are
those by Schoenberg, Milhaud and Stravinsky.
The rest of the contributors turn out
over-long passages of atmospheric but
underdeveloped film music. Not to say
that film music is not worth listening
to, but none of the lesser composers
featured here is in the Waxman/Steiner/Korngold
league.
The suite begins with
Schoenberg, whose tone-row prelude is
not overly confronting and in fact is
the most orderly representation of chaos
one could imagine, finishing with a
wordless chorus singing a C major of
creation.
Shilkret (who commissioned
the suite) follows the prelude with
the first narrated movement, which relates
the story of the Creation. Immediately
we are in the sound-world of early science
fiction films, with portentous stabs
of brass used to heighten the drama
of the narration, a mysterious wordless
female chorus and singing lines in the
violins which do not seem to go anywhere
in particular. Similar comments apply
to the following movement by Tansman,
despite the differences in idiom.
Milhaud's Cain and
Abel is altogether more assured
than the preceding two movements. The
writing is tauter - more developed than
motivic. The movement features a lovely
tune from about 1:06, which seems to
be at odds with the immediately preceding
narration of Cain's displeasure, but
nonetheless falls sweetly on the ear.
Castelnuovo-Tedesco
uses chromatic scales to create a sense
of unease to underpin his retelling
of Noah's flood. Toch, following him,
continues Noah's story with a more concise
and tuneful movement, which reflects
the rainbow covenant in a brass chorale
and a lovely horn motif.
Stravinsky then brings
the piece to an end at Babel. His is
a strange movement in which the chorus
(wordless to this point) replaces the
speakers as the voice of God and the
little fugue that illustrates the building
of the tower disintegrates into chaos.
Schoenberg is reported in the booklet
to have said that Stravinsky's movement
"didn't end, it just stopped".
He is right. It is a bemusing end to
a bemusing movement and a bemusing suite.
Babel is itself an
odd place to end the piece. One would
expect a Genesis Suite by Jewish
composers (Stravinsky being the one
gentile contributor) to at least reach
the story of Abraham and God's covenant
with him and his descendants. The booklet
notes indicate that contributions had
also been requested from Bartók,
Hindemith and Prokofiev. Perhaps they
would have advanced the narrative. However,
as a function of its times, there is
perhaps something appropriate in ending
at Babel. Out of the primordial chaos
we rise in an arc like a rainbow and
descend once more into the chaos, this
time the chaos of humanity in conflict
and confusion. An apt comment by refugee
composers on a world torn apart by war?
The booklet notes are,
as usual in this series, very detailed.
This is especially important for this
issue, where the music itself is less
interesting than the circumstances of
its composition. There is a lapse, though.
The notes refer to four speakers: two
men and two women. However, three male
speakers are credited. The speakers
are also not identified with the parts
and movements that they read. It is
easy enough to pick out Barbara Feldon
for those of us who used to watch Get
Smart, but it makes it impossible
to identify which of the men is speaking
at any one time. The speakers (identifiable
or not) deliver their lines effectively,
and the response of orchestra, chorus
and conductor to the score is respectful
and impressive. The sonics from the
Berlin Philharmonic's old stamping ground,
the Jesus Christus Kirche, are warm
and clear.
Having looked as the
mixed musical merits and the historical
background, my question is: who would
want to buy this disc? Completists of
the Schoenberg, Stravinsky or Milhaud
flavour will want to hear how their
heroes approached this collaboration.
Anyone interested in the other minor
composers will also want to acquire
and listen, although I imagine their
numbers will be few. Perhaps the category
of listener that will get the most out
of this disc is the one who seeks to
understand music within its historical
and sociological context. None of this
music approaches greatness, but perhaps
the extra-musical considerations make
it worth hearing. It might also be fun
to play the piece to friends to see
if they can pick the three big names
among the lesser lights. However, this
is not a disc to which I will return
with any great frequency.
Tim Perry
see also review
by Jonathan Woolf
Rundfunk-Sinfonieorchester Berlin/Gerard Schwarz
