
NEIL: Rhapsody for Violin and Orchestra. BAKER: Concert Piece for Viola
and Orchestra; Concerto for Cello and Chamber Orchestra.
Sharon Polifrone,
violin; Paul Silverthorne, viola; Milos Jahoda, cello; Czech National
Symphony Orchestra/Paul Freeman
Albany TROY 559 {DDD} TT: 75:38
Terrific performances of mainly okay works. While certainly true that
a first encounter through a terrible account may temporarily turn
you off
to a great work (happened to me with Brahms's violin concerto), a
really good performance of something at third or fourth level may
influence
you to credit a composer more than you should. There's nothing awful
about
any of the three works here. All of them are at least capably written,
with a vein of real poetry through them besides. One might well ask
the question, however, if the "aesthetic goodness" of a work
isn't inherent in the music, how performers produce it.
Obviously, listener, performer, and composer collaborate in each
musical experience. For me, movies serve as the model of collaborative
art.
A very good director like Milos Forman and very good actors like
Tom Hulce
and
F. Murray Abraham can be sunk by a very bad script like Amadeus.
A great movie like Orson Welles's Chimes at Midnight needs
a great audience.
A very good movie like Shane succeeds in spite of a cliché-ridden
script. However, we try to diagnose the weakness and assign credit
and blame to those who deserve them.
Of the three concerti on the program, I liked William Neil's Rhapsody best.
I've never heard anything by Neil before, but this piece makes me want
to hear more. The composer has misnamed the work somewhat. Although
it aims to convey the improvisatory singing of a Greek rhapsody,
most
evident
in the opening, it is nevertheless tightly-written. Its best moments
I find in the quicker portions, and they seem to derive from Benjamin
Britten,
with an extremely characteristic harmonic world. They make an intense,
brilliant effect, reminiscent somewhat of Young Apollo. Nevertheless,
it does go on for about twenty-five minutes, not all of it gold.
The slower, "non-metered" portions
strike me as predictable. I keep waiting for something else to happen
and thus give thanks when the composer gives the music a pulse again.
Most listeners know David Baker as a composer who incorporates jazz
elements into his concert work. The viola "concert piece" and
cello concerto stand as exceptions to the general picture. Baker
has built up a huge catalogue
over the years (somewhere around twenty concerti alone). I think
of him as a "messy" composer—that is, a lot of notes,
many of which don't do much but litter up the texture. Again, these
two pieces run counter
to my preconception. Both owe more to mainstream concert music
than to jazz, and both eschew florid textures. Hearing the viola
concert piece
(three movements—moderate, slow, fast—played without pause),
an ambitious work of more than half an hour, I found that the phrase "Very
Eastman" leapt
to my mind, by which I mean full of craft and a genteel, almost
faceless lyricism. Baker builds a symphonic argument—- impressively,
across movements—but you have only to listen to, say, Walton's
concerto or to Bloch's suite to see Baker's effort as a "nice" but
not terrifically exciting or memorable work. I begin to long for
Baker's
old "mess"—evidence of a mind with so many ideas he can't
find a place for them all.
The cello concerto improves things. The rhythms become more incisive,
the cello and the orchestra generate real drama. The lyrical bits
don't remind
you of weak-tea pop from the Forties. The ideas themselves, as
well as the instrumental textures, are more interesting. The concerto
runs two-thirds
of the concert-piece's length and is all the better for the concision.
Some jazzy bits make their way into the finale, but overall this
concerto, well-made and interesting as it is, doesn't really stand
out from dozens
of other cello concerti. One feels as though one looks at an expensive,
solidly-built, but not aesthetically distinctive house.
The performances, on the other hand, give all these pieces a lot
of help. Paul Silverthorne is simply the finest violist I've ever
heard.
Despite "big-shoulder" passages
for the orchestra and what I regard as tacked-on cadenzas for display,
the work's engine moves to a lyrical pulse. Silverthorne has a
warm, rich tone, and he can sing like nobody's business. But it's
a bit like Sinatra
doing "L.A. is My Lady": one hears singing,
but no real song. If Silverthorne can't make more out of Baker's
Konzertstük,
odds are
nobody else can. Neither Silverthorne nor Freeman overcome the
tendency of the
work to fall apart into sections. Given their performances elsewhere,
I again suspect the composer.
No such reservations about violinist Sharon Polifrone, but Neil
has given her something to work with. Again, the music moves mainly
lyrically,
and Polifrone sings sweetly, with a slightly intense edge, and
amazingly in
tune. Furthermore, her intonation contributes to the intensity
of the performance, lifting the piece over its few leaden parts.
Even
in the "muscle" passages,
she gets power with only the slightest loss of lyricism. The cello
soloist, Milos Jahoda, gets huge sounds out of his instrument ,or
maybe they miked
him close. But it's a big tone, at any rate. Jahoda plays far less
suavely than either Silverthorne or Polifrone, but Baker's concerto
can stand
the rough. The Czech National Symphony does well, though not sensationally
well, by these scores. Freeman, when given a crumb of something
meaningful to do, contributes his own sparks. Most important, he
in large part
shapes the scores so that one gets a sense of the entire span,
rather than bits
and pieces. Baker's viola work stops him, but it also stops Silverthorne.
The recorded sound is a bit harsh and a little dead. You don't
get a lot of lush here, which would work to Neil's advantage. On
the
other hand,
it suits Baker's cello concerto. Soloists are a too forward in
the balance. Though a quantum leap better in sound, it nevertheless
reminded
me of some
of the old CRI concerto LPs.
S.G.S. (September 2003)