Ignacy Jan PADEREWSKI (1860-1941)
Symphony in B minor, Op 24 “Polonia” (1903-1908)
Lviv National Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra/Bohdan Boguszewski
rec. August 2019, Concert Hall of the Lviv National Philharmonic, Ukraine
DUX 1636 [63:39]
Paderewski’s careers as pianist, compose, and statesman, naturally overlapped chronologically. Still, by 1910 or so he became more and more devoted to the cause of Polish independence and basically stopped composing. However, as a composer he “went out with a bang”, his last substantial work being the giant Symphony Op 24
"Polonia".
Paderewski ‘s only symphony received a number of performances before the start of the First World War, but then vanished, at least outside Poland. There have been recordings, but only towards the end of the 20th century were recordings made that did the piece justice; those by Jerzy Maksymiuk (review ~ review) and Wojciech Czepiel (review). Two issues bedevil the work - completeness of the performance and completeness of the instrumentation. At approximately an hour and a quarter in length, complete recordings were unknown until those of Maksymiuk and Czepiel. At the same time Paderewski’s score calls for 3 contrabass sarrusophones and a tonitruon- an instrument somewhat like a thunder machine that Paderewski invented for this symphony. Needless to say, these instruments rarely show up in performances or recordings.
The “Polonia” symphony is in three large movements - Paderewski originally envisioned four, but dropped a planned scherzo, perhaps fearing it would make the symphony too long. The first movement’s adagio maestoso introduction immediately draws the listener in. It contains the basic thematic material of the symphony - a crashing motif associated with violence or danger, and a version of Dąbrowski’s mazurka, a patriotic song dating from the 1790’s. This song became the national anthem of Poland in 1926. Over all of this is a pastoral or beneficent feeling that contains the true charm of the whole movement, and indeed, of the whole symphony.
The Allegro proper begins with the Danger motif in full force-here the sarrusophones make their first appearance. It should be stated at the outset that these instruments do more than just provide an unusual tonal color, they are perfectly suited to bringing out the sense of menace that is part of Paderewski’s emotional program for the work. The Danger motif is developed very convincingly, followed by a plaintive setting of the Mazurka motif on strings. The two are combined before the pastoral element again surfaces. For the rest of the movement the Mazurka is constantly varied and struggles to dominate the proceedings but is always beaten down until a dramatic organ solo leads to a troubled coda.
The slow movement is solemn as befits the condition of Poland when the symphony was written. It is not too much to say that the pathos of this movement is reminiscent of that of the corresponding movement of Mahler’s Symphony No 6. Paderewski’s handling of the orchestra is very skillful as the movement grows steadily sadder and the Mazurka motif is transformed into the Danger motif. The movement ends with a lament based on the original material of the Mazurka.
The vivace movement, perhaps representing Poland’s brighter future, follows from the end of the slow movement, evolving from sadness to a call to arms. There are triumphant statements of the Mazurka motif, and the eventual return of the pastoral element. But the music becomes steadily more violent, and the Danger motif returns, as do the sarrusophones. This yields to a fascinating slower section. There are further triumphal statements of the Mazurka motif, before a positive, but not overwhelming ending.
The Polish conductor Bohdan Boguszewski’s performance is first-rate. He puts to rest complaints that the symphony is discursive - his reading never flags in intensity, but allows for all the emotional and musical shifts in this giant work. I was unacquainted with the Lviv National Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra but they do an excellent job, full of gusto and with some finesse. The orchestra’s concert hall has a somewhat dull sound overall, but the winds and brass still come through convincingly.
At 64 minutes this recording obviously is not a complete one, although no mention of this is made in the notes. For completeness one must go to the recordings by Maksymiuk and Czepiel. But if performance, not to mention completeness of orchestration, are the prime considerations, one could not do better than Boguszewski’s version of this exciting score.
William Kreindler
Previous review: Dominy Clements
