Kara KARAYEV (1918-1982)
The Seven Beauties, Suite for orchestra (1949) [32.53]
Don Quixote, Symphonic Engravings (1960) [20.32]
Leyla and Mejnun, Symphonic Poem (1947) [15.17]
Lullaby from ‘Path of Thunder’ (1957) [4.02]
All are premiere recordings
Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra/Kirill Karabits
rec. The Lighthouse, Poole, Dorset, 2017
CHANDOS CHSA5203 SACD [73.10]
Kara Karayev (full name Kara Abdul’faz-oglī Karayev)
was an Azerbaijani composer, teacher and folklore authority. He led
his country’s musical life from the end of World War II until
his death. His compositions are suffused with Azerbaijan folk music,
with its rhythmic inflections and melody. His works are distinguished
by his gift for vivid colourful orchestration. It has to be said that
he was something of a musical magpie, his music being eclectic and influenced
by many sources – the most common being Shostakovich , Prokofiev
and Tchaikovsky.
Since 2008, Kirill Karabits has been Chief Conductor of the Bournemouth
Symphony Orchestra (BSO). Many of his concerts with the BSO continue
to be broadcast live on BBC Radio 3. Karabits has been championing the
music of Karayev for several years. This new recording, in warm bright
sound, reveals Karayev’s masterly, extraordinary, colourful sound
world.
The Seven Beauties music was inspired by the writings of the
Persian Sunni Muslim poet Nizami Ganjavi (1141-1209). The Seven
Beauties is a long narrative poem. Karayev’s symphonic suite
was subsequently recast by the composer as a ballet, which proved such
a success that it was performed all over the USSR. The music’s
story concerns the doomed love between an artisan girl, Aysha and Bachram
Shah, the ruler of an oppressed people, and his evil, manipulative Vizier.
The opening Waltz begins as a wild, abandoned creation until
a glittering stately, sweeping, then tender, waltz takes over, that
instantly recalls Tchaikovsky and Prokofiev. The Adagio that
follows signifies the first rapturous meeting between the lovers. It
is distinguished by a gentle, tender horn solo. The strings’ contribution
is delectably romantic, yearning and passionate. These introductory
episodes are rounded off with the wryly comic, riotous Dance of
the Clowns.
The gist of The Seven Beauties is now revealed. The Vizier
has shown Bachram a cloth with images of seven beauties, presumably
in an effort to distract him. First is The Indian Beauty, her
music sinuous, sensual, perfumed; full of eastern promise. The Byzantine
Beauty music seems to suggest her travelling across the desert
– one imagines the ungainly gait of the camel; then she dances
to tambourine and tamtam. The Khorezmian Beauty is a bit of
a madam; the woodwind figures suggest her flirtatious nature. The
Slavonic Beauty is graceful and seemingly more demure; she has
a flowing violin melody accompanied by syncopated horns. The colours
and action might suggest her dancing twirls with long voluminous skirts
swirling around her. The Maghrebian Beauty’s music is
darker, more dangerously enticing. The rhythm is that of a seductive,
insistent Bolero implying she should be the most feared of all the beauties.
As light relief we meet The Chinese Beauty and Karayev weaves
his own pentatonic chinoiserie exoticism around her dance with flute
and bass clarinet subtleties. Finally there is the delicate loveliness
of The Most Beautiful of the Beauties with solo oboe prominent
accompanied by alluring wind and harp arpeggios.
The Procession rounds off the work. It is a brutal picture
of oppression as the people are suppressed. Sinister tam-tam strokes
underline a malicious march that gains momentum reaching a horrifying
climax.
Karayev wrote his Don Quixote music initially for a 1957 film
of Cervantes’s celebrated novel. Then, in 1960, he reshaped the
music as this concert item. Pointedly described as Symphonic Engravings,
Karayev intended this Don Quixote work to be concerned with character
rather than incident. The opening movement, the first of three labelled
Travels seems to be preoccupied with a portrait of the unworldly,
rather ridiculous Quixote (perhaps astride his skinny clumsy horse,
Rocinante) as he sets out on his imagined heroic quests The other two
‘Travels’ movements act like intervals as Quixote roams
from one encounter to another. The second movement portrays Quixote’s
stout partner, Sancho Panza, affecting pride and pomposity
and ready for any adventure or combat. His march, recalling Shostakovich.
Aldonse, is a portrait of the old knight’s ideal woman.
It is tenderly romantic with a stunning flute melody. Also affecting,
is the final Don Quixote’s Death, a truly fond farewell
full of refined pathos and recalling Tchaikovsky. On the way the extrovert
Cavalcade merits coverage. This is perhaps a kaleidoscopic
evocation of the Quixotic adventures? Whatever; it is a mock heroic
picture, the music charging along at the gallop (or at points, cantering)
with the Don lunging into battle. The music reminds one of Prokofiev
here.
Karayev’s Symphonic Poem, Leyla and Mejnun, won him the
Stalin Prize. Its story is of another pair of star-crossed lovers: the
young poet Quays and his cousin Leyla. They are children of feuding
parents. (In fact Byron referred to them as the ‘Romeo and Juliet’
of the East.) The quarrelling families’ sparring music is unrelentingly
hostile. Brass and strings are used in clashing canon figures. Tchaikovsky
is the quite obvious influence in his Romeo and Juliet and
Hamlet modes. The love music is rapturous. Its long-breathed
melody, is not far off from the Hollywood indulgencies of Max Steiner,
and Rachmaninov would not have been disgraced by it; nor would Howard
Hanson whose own ‘Romantic ‘Symphony No. 2 also came to
my mind.
The Path of Thunder was set in Apartheid-period South Africa.
It was based on a story by Peter Abrahams that dealt with the frowned
upon love between a mixed-race man and a white woman. Karayev scored
his second ballet on this subject. His Lullaby, from that work,
provides a momentary peace before the ballet’s shockingly violent
conclusion. It is softly gentle and tender but there is an eerie unsettling
edge to it.
Extremely colourful and evocative music, brilliantly orchestrated. The
ear is unfailingly captivated. The music has melodic charm. But there
is, to my ear, no one melody that really lingers in the mind and that,
for me, coupled with the derivative nature and eclecticism of this material,
separates the good from the great.
Ian Lace
Previous review: Dan
Morgan (Recording of the Month)
