Okay, we're back in Parry Sound again, and in 3 concerts yesterday we were exposed to an extraordinary variety of music. A little jazz, a little blues, some wartime concert pieces, and a couple of grand old classics from the 19th century chamber repertoire.
The intention behind yesterday's noon concert was to explore the music of composers who were exiled from homes in Europe during the Nazi horrors, as well as composers who were self-exiled from the USA because their black skin blocked their professional advancement. For me, the music was just music -- nothing I heard particularly reflected the reality of exile, although the harsh realities of the world situation certainly had their impact on several of the pieces played.
We had the jazz and blues set first. Now, I am no expert at all in the fine art of jazz and blues, so I only sit and enjoy without having much ability to comment on what I'm hearing -- other than to say that I like it.
In the concert music part of the programme, we got a couple of pieces by Erich Wolfgang Korngold. His music is as lush and romantic as if it were written in the late 1800s, and not half a century later. The effect is not unlike listening to a film score from the golden age of Hollywood, and that's not surprising because Hollywood is precisely where Korngold ended up when he came to the USA.
I have to say, though, that Andrew Burashko (pianist) went far over the top in trying to proclaim Korngold as one of the greatest masters of all music. It was all I could do not to roll my eyes when he said that. Korngold may have been a very skilled virtuoso performer, but I've heard enough of his music to state that (for my money) Korngold was derivative, milking an old and tired tradition for every last drop but creating nothing especially original or memorable in the process.
Then we got a Violin Sonata by the Czech composer Martinu. This was thorny, rebarbative music. Again, violinist Mark Fewer's description of the work as an overlooked masterpiece cut no ice with me. I'd like to be able to say that he and pianist Burashko gave a good performance, but honestly I had no way of knowing. Martinu's music often sounds as if the two players were not on the same page, or perhaps I should say it sounds as if they could be on the wrong page and the audience wouldn't be able to tell the difference. It's a pity, because there are a few amazing works Martinu wrote that I would go anywhere to hear, again and again, but this Sonata is definitely not among them.
The afternoon concert was another matter altogether. Guy Few (trumpet) and Angela Park (piano) gave a breathtaking performance of Hindemith's Trumpet Sonata. I use the word in its most literal sense as I found myself gasping for air after the intensity of the final funeral march and the long silent pause that Few and Park held after the last notes. Hindemith was definitely a composer of his own time, but this Sonata remains resolutely tonal (albeit with many surprising twists and turns). The Sonata is full of moments both powerful and moving, and I will be looking out for a good recording.
It was followed by a Bartok String Quartet (No 6) which dates from the years before the war, and certainly reflects the unease and fear the composer felt. The Penderecki Quartet captured the intensity of this work beautifully as well. Each movement begins with a slow, solemn introduction (on similar thematic basis) before branching off on its own lines. The last movement remains slow and solemn throughout, bringing the Quartet to an intense conclusion.
The evening concert opened with a memorable traversal of Schumann's famous Piano Quartet, Op. 47 by the Ensemble Made in Canada. These four young artists captured all the wit, fun, shades of dark and light, and especially the clarity of the counterpoint in this complex and sophisticated work.
Alas for good intentions, the succeeding Grand Sextet by Mikhail Glinka turned up sounding like the work of a rank beginner by comparison. Glinka would gain fame as the founder and exemplar of Russian nationalism in music, but this Sextet predates his return to Russia. It is fashionable, flashy, and musically about as substantial and rewarding as an empty cream puff. Glinka detested any suggestion of counterpoint, so the five strings play in mostly chordal textures, while the piano also plays chordally but with the chords enlivened by endless chains of tremolandos and arpeggios. In the end, the pianist (Andrew Burashko in fine form on a rather unrewarding assignment) does about 80% of the work, with the strings just coming along for the ride.
In sum: five stars for performance, one star for the music (maybe).
The conclusion of the evening was Dvorak's monumental String Quartet No. 13. It's a late work, written just after Dvorak's return home from New York, and like many of the late Beethoven quartets it seems on the verge of bursting the bounds of quartet form. The writing is often symphonic in force and density, and could probably form a successful target for orchestration. I found the slow second movement especially moving, not least because of the slow introduction which (like the one in the New World Symphony) shifts the key from the first movement to the second movement by rather mysterious means. I also thoroughly enjoyed the powerful finale, and do plan to dig out my recording of this marvellous work and make its further acquaintance. The Penderecki Quartet again gave a near-definitive performance, high-powered, full of energy and emotion, and not without sublety where required.
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