Monday 23 September 2013

Scandinavian Rarities # 1

After a recent binge at a sale, I have two new recordings to talk about.  Here's the first one.  It comes from one of those composers that one sometimes reads about or hears about.  But honestly now: how many people have ever actually heard any music by Franz Berwald?  Hands up?

My hands are down.  Until I picked up this first volume of Berwald's symphonies, the name meant nothing to me except as a name.  So, a bit of background: born in Stockholm in 1796, and died there in 1868.  Berwald was variously an orthopaedic surgeon, manager of a saw mill, and manager of a glass factory.  The time had not yet come when a Swedish composer could make a living as a composer.  It's curious, too, that virtually all of Berwald's major orchestral works were composed in the short time from 1841 to 1845.

Those dates place Berwald squarely in the middle of the Romantic ferment, with all that the term implies of music-as-catharsis and music-as-experiment.  The present Chandos recording features his third ( Sinfonie singuliere) and fourth (Sinfonie naïve) symphonies and a tone poem called Elfenspiel.  Both symphonies use the conventional four-movement layout, and in both cases the adagio and scherzo movements are attached.  The unique aspects of structure show in the first movements of each, where interesting experiments with sonata form surprise the theory-oriented listener by going (apparently) in the wrong order and yet arriving in the right place at the right time.  In this connection, it's worth recalling Donald Tovey's remark that you simply cannot find a first movement among any of Haydn's 104 symphonies that truly corresponds with most textbook descriptions of sonata form.  Another startling invention is the tripartite scherzo-trio-scherzo of the third symphony -- enclosed within the adagio, the rapid-fire music bookended by a slow and solemn string melody of great nobility and beauty.

Berwald has some other surprises up his sleeve too.  Consider, for instance, an ostinato figure in his melody part while the accompaniment is continually varied, the reverse of the usual practice which tends to place an ostinato in the bass.  A good example is the insistent trumpet ostinato on one note that occurs twice in the opening movement of the Sinfonie singuliere -- it sounds for all the world like the precursor of the One Note Samba.  Berwald's use of a conventional orchestra of his day yet produces some original and piquant sounds. The combination of short motifs and varying orchestration in the opening of the Sinfonie naïve sounds for all the world like an operatic overture -- and it's worth remembering that Berwald spent much of his time and effort in trying to gain recognition as an operatic composer.  In the scherzos of both symphonies we hear gossamer-light fairy sounds to compare with the best of Mendelssohn.  Finally, it must be noted that Berwald is no mean melodist, and is more than capable of developing an extended tune of sufficient strength and interest to carry the weight of his argument.

As always, splendidly warm and rich Chandos sound conveys all the musical strands with lifelike clarity.  The Danish Radio Symphony Orchestra and conductor Thomas Dausgaard do full justice to Berwald's inspiration. 

Taken overall, then, Berwald plainly was a composer of no mean skill and with a genuine lyrical gift.  It seems a pity that his music has been so little regarded, as the neglect has given rise to an unjustified presumption that Scandinavia lacked genuine composers deserving our attention.  Berwald is a more than worthy representative of Sweden.  In the next entry I'm going to look at a Norwegian composer of similar skill and interest who is, if anything, even more neglected.



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