I have long been intrigued by the ways
Asian composers approach working in
a western idiom, using as a medium for
expression that most distinctively western
instrument the symphony orchestra. Hearing
such a familiar sound filtered through
traditions which are almost literally
a world away from ours, we can gain
remarkable insights into a perception
of western music which would otherwise
never arise.
Ifukube goes hammer
and tongs into this musical environment,
making no attempt at fusion or hybrid
compositions using native Japanese instruments
or traditional musical forms. Bearing
in mind the years in which some of these
pieces were written his achievement
is quite remarkable.
The Sinfonia Tapkaara
is an incredible melting pot of
eclectic moments. Ifukube was clearly
inspired and fascinated by Russian music
(Stravinsky in particular) and was also
introduced to Ravel and de Falla during
his earlier education, later coming
to study with Tcherepnin for a short
while. The first movement in particular
seems almost bursting to break out into
some ‘Lieutenant Kijé’ themes,
helped along no doubt by the very Russian
Russian Phil. Almost Sibelian moments
of well-orchestrated richness are mixed
with the emptiness of open fifths and
strangely closed or angular melodies.
The very banal octave at the end of
the first movement will bring a smile
every time, but the more I listen to
this music, the more I find my ear teased
by an unstoppably fertile creative mind
at work.
The Ritmica Ostinata
holds minimalist promise, but in
fact begins with a calm horn call. The
entry of the piano over this will have
those of you with sensitive relative
pitch wincing more than just a little.
It sounds like a rather creaky re-conditioned
instrument which refuses to stay in
tune with itself or anyone else – especially
in the upper registers. Never mind:
melodies in simultaneous close (minor
second) intervals have the piano sounding
more like a Tippett-driven dulcimer
in any case, and the punchy bass rhythms
come through cleanly enough. The ‘ostinato’
is broken up by quieter, more lyrical
moments – the overall impression being
almost that of variations, or a kind
of rondo. The use of a hexatonic scale
links the Nymanesque with the Oriental
in another strangely compelling mish-mash.
That piano really is dreadful though:
what my piano technician friend and
accompanist Johan (the piano, as opposed
to Johan the accordion) calls a ‘WC’.
Ifukube went on to
write music for films, and his Symphonic
Fantasia No. 1 is a concert arrangement
of his work on monster films such as
the 1950s and early 1960s Godzilla
series. Everything you might expect
of such an exercise, it’s a percussion-rich
procession of chugging marches and menacing
brass. The love theme from Battle
in Outer Space provides a little
window of quirky melodic relief, but
with music sourced from film titles
like ‘Frankenstein versus Varagon’
and ‘Destroy all Monsters’ I’m
fairly sure you can guess from what
kind of dreary nonsense this consists.
The Russian Philharmonic
seem to be enjoying themselves, and
are quite well recorded, if not always
impeccably in synch with each other
– I get the feeling the percussionists
are a little too remote from the conductor
sometimes. With my teeth still jangling
from that terrible piano I’m not sure
an unreserved recommendation is in place
here then, but this CD certainly has
a high ‘what’s this then?’ factor, and
is guaranteed to break the ice at those
ever-popular specialist classical music
pub quizzes.
Dominy Clements
see also review
by Rob Barnett
Ekaterina Saranceva (piano)* 
