|
|
 |
|
 |
||
|
|
 |
|
 |
|
Contents:
DDD 69:15 Recorded: Potton Hall, Suffolk. 17–19 November 2005 TL This unique collection of solo piano music by three Swiss composers, all roughly contemporaries of one another, opens a window on what is today a little-known and unjustly neglected area of the repertoire which may well come as a revelation to many music-lovers. The composers are Walter Schulthess, Emil Frey and Robert Freund, all of whom became noted as pianists as well as composers. In the case of the last named, Robert Freund, he was very well known indeed and exceptionally well connected, as we shall see, but the linking characteristics mean that the music for piano by all three composers is extremely well-written for the instrument, and is very rewarding for the pianist to play. Of the three composers, the most recent, Walter Schulthess, is perhaps the least-known internationally. He was born in Zurich in July 1894, where his musical gifts soon became apparent. He studied initially in his home city under Andreas Volkmann and later in Munich and in Berlin. At the end of World War I he returned to Zurich where he married and lived for the remainder of his life. Schulthess died in 1971, one month before what would have been his 77th birthday. In 1941, he founded the Konzertgesellschaft Zurich, a concert-giving society, and was active as a pianist, teacher and administrator until his death. Schulthess’ Variationen uber ein eigenes Thema, (Variations on a characteristic Theme) constitutes his Opus 1. As one might expect, the work appeared towards the end of his student years, and in some respects exhibits representative features of what one may term mainstream music from the second decade of the 20th-century. Playing for around fifteen minutes, this set of variations is interestingly grouped, after the noble, calm and unhurried theme on which the work is based is initially stated. Although lyrical in essence, this original theme has certain chromatic elements which never threaten to undermine the essential tonality of the work. The variations individually are quite short, numbering less than twenty, but their grouping – not so marked by the composer, yet their connecting threads will be clear to the attentive listener - means that the work falls into six sections. Schulthess explores an admirable range of piano writing, and of mood, but never takes matters to extremes. Even in this early work, his inherent taste as a creative artist marks him out as a composer of genuine refinement, even in the powerful and rather longer variation which brings this fine work to a close. Emil Frey died in Zurich in May 1946, aged only 57. He studied at the Geneva Conservatory and then at the Paris Conservatoire, where his teachers included Faure and Widor. In Paris, in 1906, he won a premier prix for piano and a few years after graduation lived in Moscow. Following the 1917 Revolution, he returned to Zurich, his base thereafter, where he taught, and from where he undertook several tours, including visits to South America. His compositions are extensive, and range from symphonies and concertos to chamber music and works for solo piano, which latter constitute the bulk of his work. His younger brother Walter (1898-1985) was also a noted pianist, specialising in modern music. This recital includes two compositions by Emil Frey. The first is the Second Sonata, Opus 36 which dates from 1917. It falls into two movements, and in some respects shows the structural influence of Scriabin (who had died in Moscow barely two years earlier, and whom Frey knew). In certain aspects, Scriabin’s late sonatas are recalled texturally, if not in length, but the language is not so neurasthenic as the Russian’s; perhaps influences in direction and predisposition from Franck and Reger are recalled, but by this time Frey’s language was entirely his. Although the opening movement is marked Andante con moto, there is much life in the inner part-writing especially, and a tangible delight in keyboard writing. Frey demands concentration from pianist and listener, and both are rewarded by florid writing which calls for virtuosity and high musical intelligence to reveal its character. As this relatively large-scale movement progresses, in an impacted sonata-style structure, it is only in the coda that we encounter quiet and subdued music to which this troubled opening journey has been travelling. The second movement falls into three conjoined parts; the first begins as being more overtly contrapuntal in texture, embodying a scherzando-like character; in the second part, the underlying triple pulse is more to the fore – this stretch of music is quite brilliantly written for the keyboard – and the deep bass line, which begins the third section, underpins the gradual pacification of the music, as the composer muses over much of his foregoing material until the quietly impressive final chords are reached. By the time of the Fourth Suite for solo piano Opus 58, practically ten years later, Frey had certainly become familiar with other, more recent, keyboard music. Although Frey’s language remained essentially the same, the early keyboard works of Paul Hindemith, for example, had appeared by then; not that there is a definable influence of Hindemith in Frey’s Suite, but that one might claim that it would not have taken either the shape it did or the use of language it exhibits had not the younger man’s work been performed and published. Perhaps the influence of Walter Frey’s contemporary friends enters Emil Frey’s music at this time, but his Fourth Suite is a large and impressive achievement. The first movement, Andante con moto, opens quietly, each phrase more extensive than its predecessor, and becoming more inherently chromatic as the music progresses. This texture coalesces into a beautiful theme, high in the right hand, accompanied by gentle chords and long, deep pedal notes; gradually, the music becomes more agitated – and a climax is reached from which the music fades into a quiet coda reminiscenza. As if this were becoming a four-movement Sonata, a Scherzo follows. This is very fast and brilliantly written. Perhaps a trace of early Prokofiev can be discerned in the repeated notes of the second subject, as the abrupt ending brings this moto perpetuo to a sudden conclusion. The third movement, Andante, begins as a study in slow motion. It falls into four sections, each being texturally quite distinct. It is also fascinating to realise that the gradual emergence of faster music does not affect the underlying pulse of this movement. The final movement, a Fugue, is not a strict one in the Bachian sense. It is of three voices and the central working takes place at a slower pace. Little by little, this builds to a big climax, with material from the opening movement alluded to. Thereafter the contrapuntal nature of the texture almost recedes, until quieter and slower canonic writing alludes to the fugal nature of the movement in a peaceful coda. Robert Freund (1852-1936) is the oldest, and perhaps best-known, of the three composers represented here. He was a pupil of Moscheles and Tausig, and became a close friend of Liszt, who commended his playing, and arranged for the publication of several of Freund’s own compositions. Later, Freund met Brahms, and also became a close colleague of his – surprisingly, in view of the fact that the two great composers were regarded as antagonistic of one another. After Brahms died, Freund was presented with the manuscript of Brahms’s Second Piano Concerto. Later still, the young Bela Bartok sought advice from Freund, as did Busoni. The music of such a pianist, admired by Liszt, Brahms, Bartok and others, demands our attention, and Freund’s Nocturne Opus 2 is a beautifully crafted study in keyboard layout and texture, not so much redolent of the 1870s when it appeared, as exhibiting admirable characteristics of mood and lyricism which are essentially timeless.
Page revised Friday January 12 2007 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
