Aloys FLEISCHMANN (1910 – 1992)
The Four Masters (1944) [15:54]
Sinfonia Votiva (1960/1977) [24:35]
An Coítín Dearg – Ballet Suite (1951) [19:12]
Clare’s Dragoons (1944)a [16:20]
Gavan Ring (baritone)a; Pat Fitzpatrick (war-pipes)a;
RTÉ Philharmonic Choira; RTÉ Philharmonic Orchestra/Robert Houlihan
rec. National Concert Hall, Dublin, 10-12 June 2009 and 12-13 October 2009
RTÉ LYRIC FM CD 127 [75:59]
Born in Munich to Irish-based German parents, Aloys Fleischmann was one of
the most prominent personalities in Irish musical life during the 20th
century. He was a multi-faceted musician active as conductor, educator, scholar
and – more importantly – composer. From the earliest stages of his composing
life, he wanted to write distinctively Irish music though still rooted in
a broad continental tradition closer to Bartók’s “imaginary folklore” than
to RVW’s actual use of folksongs. He remained nevertheless strongly linked
with the Irish musical scene and with Cork in particular. He befriended the
likes of Bax and Moeran who both shared his interest in the Irish past. Fleischmann’s
ties with Irish culture are potent in some of the works recorded here.
The overture The Four Masters was commissioned to commemorate
the tercentenary of the death of Micheál Ó Clérigh, a Franciscan lay brother
who was the chief of a group of seventeenth-century annalists known as The
Four Masters. The overture is cast in a broad sonata form and opens with a
slow, solemn introduction leading into the vigorous first subject. This then
contrasts with the second lyrical subject. There is much interplay between
both till a powerful climax is reached followed by a grand restatement of
the second subject. The overture ends with a beautifully inventive coda in
which bells joyously peal under a high string chord. Three massive orchestral
chords seem to put an end to it; but, instead, strings pick up the bells’
motif until it reaches a high octave D against which a chord is sounded three
times by the harp and the music eventually dies away calmly. This is a very
fine work full of arresting ideas and nicely judged orchestral touches, the
whole sometimes bringing Moeran’s to mind, particularly so in the first subject.
This is a piece that ought to be quite popular with orchestras and audiences
alike, and one cannot but wonder why it has remained unplayed for so long.
Sinfonia Votiva is a considerably more serious and substantial
work. In 1960 Fleischmann composed a diptych Introduction and Funeral
March which may be performed as such. The composer, however, always
intended it to be part of a larger piece. In 1977 he added the third movement
Bacchanal thus completing the Sinfonia Votiva written in memory
of a friend from his student years. The Introduction opens in an anguished,
dark-hued mood and slowly builds up to a climax before returning to the dark
mood of the opening thus paving the way for the Funeral March that follows
without a break. This imposing movement is roughly cast in ternary form with
a more reflective trio followed by a varied restatement of the funeral march.
It leads into the coda recalling some material from the trio and bringing
the movement to its quiet close. The Bacchanal opens with a brief arresting
flourish before launching into the main section that moves along with much
energy for most of its length. The music briefly pauses in a quieter section
before regaining its early impetus and rushing relentlessly to its boisterous
conclusion. Sinfonia Votiva is a quite imposing work in its
own right with much arresting and deeply felt music. The music here is considerably
more stringent and at times dissonant than in any of the other works recorded
here.
The ballet suite from An Coítín Dearg (“The Red Petticoat”)
was drawn from a ballet composed in 1950-1 to a scenario by MacLiammóir. Having
been thwarted in their love, two young lovers leave the west if Ireland separately
for New York. Despite their more comfortable material circumstances there,
they find that they are deeply unhappy, feeling themselves to be rootless.
Both return home, but clothed in their American finery, they fail to recognise
each other when they eventually meet. When they return to the simplicity that
is natural to them they recognise one another again and the love that is between
them. (I drew this information from de Barra’s excellent insert notes.) The
music is rather more straightforward, at times folk-influenced but completely
free of “postcard clichés”; and it often possesses a refreshing earthiness
perfectly suited to the scenario. Incidentally, we are not told from which
acts the movements of the suite are drawn; but I suspect that the music heard
here is derived from the outer acts of the ballet set in the west of Ireland.
The suite recorded here omits two movements from the one made by the composer.
The final work in this generously filled release is probably the most overtly
Irish of the four. In 1945 the Irish government commissioned a number of composers
to write new works to commemorate the centenary of the death of the poet and
patriot Thomas Davis, whose literary output includes a number of ballads in
which he recounted important events in the history of his native country (information
again drawn from de Barra’s notes). Fleischmann chose to set Clare’s Dragoons.
His setting is scored for baritone, war pipes, chorus and orchestra; and the
work’s thematic material is based on a popular melody to which Davis had written
the words for this ballad. De Barra does not mention the tune but it sounds
familiar to me although I am unable to say why. The introduction suggests
an approaching army. The main theme progressively asserts itself leading into
the choir’s first assertive entry. The second stanza reaches a powerful climax
abruptly cut short. War-pipes and drums are heard in the distance. When they
recede, the baritone has his first entry whereas the choir joins for the refrain.
The fourth stanza opens with an unaccompanied fugato that later becomes more
densely contrapuntal. The final stanza begins with the baritone recalling
Ireland’s wrongs; but the mood soon become more affirmative and the music
reaches its final climax when the pipes are heard again. In the final stages
of the work the piper marches from the rear of the auditorium and takes his
place on stage with the other performers from the grand rousing Finale.
This generously filled release is just superb. Excellent performances and
recording serve the music well, whereas de Barra’s insert notes – from which
I have lavishly quoted – are detailed and well informed. This magnificent
release is a wonderful centenary tribute to a most distinguished composer
whose finely crafted and honest music is still too rarely heard.
Hubert Culot