Szymon Kuran died at
forty-nine. He was a violinist, principally
active as orchestral leader both in
his native Poland and later in Iceland,
but also a soloist. He gave the Icelandic
premieres of both the Panufnik Concerto
and Szymanowski’s First. Interested
in jazz he formed a "string jazz"
quartet, which recorded and was much
admired. And he also composed. He was
made Artist of the Year in Reykjavik
in 1994.
These are the merest
essential details of a regrettably short
life. This disc is also on the short
side at forty-three minutes but it does
present Kuran’s biggest and most important
classical composition, his Requiem.
And now it serves that melancholy duty
for its composer. It was written between
1994 and 2000. The text is in Latin
– there’s a short interpolated prayer
in Polish – and it’s written for three
choirs (children’s, male and female),
strings, percussion, and an eclectic
array of other instruments including
electric guitar. There’s a strong role
for the solo violin, a role that the
composer would have taken himself on
disc had not fate decreed otherwise.
The Requiem is a most
approachable, tonal work. Perhaps a
near reference point, though I stress
"near," is Arvo Pärt
– the deep Russian sounding basses in
the opening movement certainly reinforce
the impression. It’s a work of humility
and humanity as well, with bells used
warmly and the solo violin sweetly in
the Dies irae – mostly in reverie,
and with folk influenced melodic lines.
In the Rex tremendae we hear
some terse and stern percussive statements
and implacable men’s voices but the
consoling Lacrimosa – all women’s
voices and coiling smoke violin - acts
as balm. There are hints of Brahms’s
own German Requiem in the Offertorium
and in the percussion-dominated Sanctus-Benedictus
it’s more a case of Pärt once more
and maybe Gorecki. The girl’s solo voice
in the Oratio II is joined by
the once-more-active solo violin; the
work ends in consoling quietude.
Post mortem
is a brief work, lasting less than four
minutes, written for solo violin and
string orchestra and dedicated to the
victims of the Gdansk attacks in 1981.
A serene Bach Chorale-like theme is
assailed by skittering high strings
but there is a measure of resolution
at the end. Um nóttina was
written in the same year as the Requiem.
It’s rapt, otherworldly, reflective
and refined – a sort of stripped down
Vasks.
This is a noble salute
to Kuran. The Requiem was recorded live
whilst the companion works were taped
in the studio. All the performances
are impressively assured and the notes
are sympathetic. There is no jazz here,
for those who may know Kuran from his
quartet work. His classical compositions
are serious but gently affirmative.
Jonathan Woolf
for details
Joanna Hajduk (violin) ¹ 
