The Hungarian Radio Choir sings the majority of the works on this
superb disc – MR stands for Magyar Rádió. The Hungarian Radio
Children’s Choir sing the others. Both groups are directed by
the distinguished Hungarian conductor, Ádám Fischer.
The disc opens
with St. Gregory’s Day, a gay and lively series of
folk melodies with a bagpipe drone coda added at the end.
King Ladislaus’ Men, again based on folk themes, is
more serious, evoking a children’s game wherein one group
of children plays the part of German soldiers guarding a ruined
bridge, whilst another represents Hungarians wanting to cross.
Writing about the first piece in the accompanying notes –
of which more later – Anna Dalos refers to “tunes of narrow
range, close to one another, and easy for children to sing.”
Well, easy it may be, but one can only marvel at the quality
of the children’s singing here, in particular the absolutely
spot-on tuning. Furthermore, and bearing in mind that Hungarian
is a famously impenetrable language for many of us, the unanimity
of attack ensures that the words are crystal-clear. Whitsuntide
is a longer piece dealing with both the Christian feast and
pagan spring rituals associated with it. The notes refer to
both this piece and the previous one as suites, meaning a
series of folk tunes one after the other, and whether it be
simple homophonic harmonisations, imitative passages over
drones or a host of other techniques, Kodály’s inventiveness
never flags. Since the melodies themselves are delightful
and the singing so spirited, I can’t recommend too highly
these three pieces for children’s choir. Don’t expect King’s
College trebles though: this is lusty children’s singing with
lots of chest voice. Unmissable.
The remarkable
quality of the children’s choir leads us to expect no less
from the grownups, and we are not disappointed. The singing
is strong and confident, and the huge dynamic range is confidently
handled with, in particular, some excellent singing in the
quieter passages. Central European choirs, and Hungarian choirs
in particular, seem to aim less for a euphonious blend than
those in the U.K. and Northern Europe, so don’t be surprised
by a certain stridency of tone from time to time. The notes
point out that while most of the music Kodály wrote for children
is based on folk sources, much of his adult choral music is
Nationalist in another, rather more political, sense. Thus
the first piece, Ode to Franz Liszt, turns out not
to be the act of musical homage we might expect, but rather
an invocation to Liszt as a great Hungarian to come to rescue
of his oppressed, defeated people. The Te Deum of Sándor
Silk is a late work for two antiphonally placed groups.
This lovely piece was new to me, and reading the notes again
I learned that “personal reflections are interwoven into the
text of this Hungarian ‘Te Deum’.” Alas, texts, essential
to full appreciation of most of these pieces, are not provided,
so I was unable to discover what these personal reflections
were. Jesus and the Traders is a dramatic retelling
of the story from the Bible wherein Jesus angrily drives the
money traders out of the temple. The work requires virtuoso
singers, and gives the basses of this excellent choir ample
opportunity to shine. A moment of instability on the challenging
final chord is a rare departure from near perfection. The
Aged, a setting of a poem about old age by Sándor Weöres
– who was only twenty when he wrote it – is by turns gloomy
and consoling, whereas the following Transylvanian Lament,
a set of variations on a folk song, is, as its title might
suggest, fairly gloomy throughout. The collection ends with
the better known Mátra Pictures. This work tell a gloomy
story too, of an exiled outlaw, but there is much variety
of atmosphere in the different folk songs on which it is based.
This is a well-planned
selection of beautiful pieces, magnificently well sung and
recorded in a generous acoustic. The accompanying essay by
Anna Dalos is informative and particularly thought provoking,
and the translation by Richard Robinson is so good that it
reads as though it were originally written in English. The
lack of texts is a serious drawback, though, as full appreciation
of this marvellous music is only possible when one understands
what is being sung. That said, the disc is a pleasure in itself
that will also serve to whet the appetite of those who know
and like Háry János, say, but would like to venture
further into the world of this fascinating and endearing composer.
Comparisons are pointless when dealing with this kind of collection,
but just for the record the MR Choir more than holds its own
(in Jesus and the Traders and the Mátra Pictures)
against the Danish National Radio Choir conducted by Stefan
Parkman on Chandos (CHAN9754), though this disc contains an
excellent performance of Kodály’s glorious Missa Brevis.
Otherwise listeners are directed to a series of CDs on the
Hungaroton Label given by the Debrecen Kodály Chorus under
their conductor Péter Erdei. The singing is of comparable
quality and Kodály’s entire choral catalogue is represented.
These discs are highly spoken of, but collectors should on
no account miss this one.
William Hedley
MR
Children’s Choir (tracks 1-3); MR Choir/Ádám
Fischer
