The representation of peasants has occasioned many enjoyable pieces
of music. Bach’s Peasant Cantata springs immediately to
mind, as does the imitation of shepherds piping in Corelli’s Christmas
Concerto and in the ‘Pastoral Symphony’ in Handel’s Messiah.
Until Beethoven showed a Romantic interest in the manner of Rousseau
and Wordsworth in the countryside itself rather than its inhabitants,
in his Pastoral Symphony, that is what the term Pastoral
meant. Peasant merry-making seems particularly to have interested
artists and composers, as in Biber’s lively representation of
peasants going to church (der Pauernkirchenfahrt) and Brueghel’s
well-known painting in the Vienna Kunsthistoriches Museum,
The Wedding Feast.
Leopold Mozart seems to
have been far from the dour figure represented in the film Amadeus;
his Bauernhochzeit or Peasants’ Wedding is the musical
equivalent of Brueghel’s painting (countless online versions of
this picture: try this link).
A jolly piece of music, it receives an appropriately lively performance
here. Yet, surprisingly, the Ensemble Eduard Melkus on a deleted
Archiv CD (427 122-2) are even more exuberant than Koopman – complete
with shouts and whoops and more prominent bagpipes than on the
Koopman version.
I never thought I’d be
asking for something more exuberant than a Koopman performance,
but if DG - or, better still, Australian Eloquence - were to
restore this Melkus recording to the catalogue, it would be
a winner. Or, perhaps, Arkiv will oblige with a CDR version?
Melkus’s coupling of the Musikalische Schlittenfahrt,
or Musical Sleigh Ride, the Sinfonia burleca,
and ten dances by Leopold’s contemporary Josef Starzer is thoroughly
appropriate. If you can find a copy, snap it up.
The Fugue from son Wolfgang’s
youthful Gallimathias musicum and his First Symphony
are attractive pieces – astounding music for an eight- or nine-year-old
– but hardly essential listening. They receive excellent performances.
I can see the point of
including the piano variations on a CD of fun music. They are
especially appropriate in a programme which includes other children’s
music in the form of the Kindersinfonie, usually known
as the Toy Symphony. Mozart’s title gives the tune its
French name, but it is known in English-speaking countries as
“Twinkle, twinkle, little star”. Dohnanyi’s well-known Variations
on a Nursery Song employ the same tune. The only problem
is the incongruity of a solo piano sandwiched between orchestral
items.
The solo piano work would
have been less incongruous if one of Mozart’s early piano concertos
had been included; these transcriptions from other composers
are not very often performed but the half page of notes which
refers to them, especially the First Concerto, based on J C
Bach, implies that it was the original intention to have included
one of them. With a playing time of 58:48 there would certainly
have been room. If Tini Mathot had offered us the First Concerto
in a nimble-fingered performance as good as that of the Variations,
that would have been a nice extra.
Alternatively, the piano
piece could have been jettisoned in favour of a performance
of Leopold Mozart’s Musikalische Schlittenfahrt – an
even more fun piece than the Bauernhochzeit. I’m sure
that Koopman would have done it justice. On the Melkus CD it
receives a really lively performance, with plenty of whip-cracking,
horses neighing and barking dogs: much better than the performance
of a truncated version on a deleted Hungaroton recording (Frigyes
Sándor with the Liszt Chamber Orchestra on HRC066). This piece
(not to be confused with Wolfgang Mozart’s Dance subtitled Schlittenfahrt)
appears not to be available at the moment – someone should restore
a version to the catalogue. How about rising to the challenge,
Challenge?
Mathot’s playing in these
Variations is every bit the equal of Christoph Eschenbach’s
on my reference recording (DG 429 808-2, deleted) and his use
of a period instrument or copy is an added bonus. Whereas Eschenbach
offers us the work in 8:11, however, Mathot includes every repeat,
which some might find bulks this lightweight piece out excessively
to 14:23.
The Cassation makes
an excellent conclusion to the programme. The whole work is
performed here, not just the three movements that used to be
known as Haydn’s Toy Symphony. Koopman’s version is full of
life, though not quite as exuberant as the three-movement Kindersinfonie
included on Sándor’s Hungaroton CD. The only recent version
to challenge Koopman is on a Kremerata Baltica CD entitled After
Mozart, coupled with son Wolfgang’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik,
Serenata Notturna, and several modern works inspired
by Mozart (Nonesuch 7559-79633-2,
see review).
Be warned: this Kremer version adds pagers and mobile phones
to the original cuckoo whistles, etc.
Black marks to Challenge
for withholding the following important information:
·
The total playing time;
·
Recording date(s) and venue(s);
·
Information about Tini Mathot, the pianist in the
Variations, also listed as producer;
·
The ‘pianoforte’ on which Mathot plays;
·
The words sung in the Cassatio ex G;
·
The name of the singer in the Cassatio;
·
The provenance of the drawing of dancing peasants
on the cover.
There would have been space
for these details in the booklet and/or on the insert. The half
page of notes about Mozart’s early piano concertos could have
been ditched, since they are irrelevant to the current CD, but
there would have been room for these details in any case. I
tried the website, too, without eliciting any of this information.
I can understand why Challenge are not proud of a playing time
of less than an hour but the prospective buyer deserves to be
told.
I was particularly annoyed
not to be told about the ‘pianoforte’ used in the variations,
which certainly is not a modern concert grand. Is it a fortepiano
or a square piano? Is it an original instrument or a modern
copy? Was it recorded at the same venue as the Amsterdam Baroque
Orchestra? These omissions meant that I seriously considered
withholding the ‘thumbs up’ accolade which this recording otherwise
fully deserves. They mean that the presentation is well below
Challenge Classics’ normal standard.
The notes correctly indicate
that the ‘Toy Symphony’, incorporated in the Cassatio ex
G, is no longer attributed to Haydn and that doubts exist
as to its attribution to Leopold Mozart, but fail to mention
that it may have been a multi-authored composition, with Michael
Haydn and/or Leopold Angerer (see articles in Oxford Companion
to Music and Concise
Grove). The English version of the notes is idiomatic.
With very good recording,
this is a very recommendable CD, for all the presentational
faults which I have enumerated. Perhaps Challenge would like
to reprint the booklet with the information which I have asked
for. If and when I discover that has happened, I shall gladly
ask MusicWeb International to acknowledge the fact in a revised
version of this review.
Brian Wilson
