Strauss, Martinu, Francaix, Gregor
Zubicky, oboe
Brynjar Hoff, oboe
Oboenkonzerte, Hansjörg Schellenberger,
oboe
Hansjörg Schellenberger & Margit-Anna
Süss Duo Recital
Klassische Oboen-Konzerte, Burkhard Glaetzner,
oboe
Oboe Sonatas, Peter Bree, oboe and
English horn
Strauss, Martinu, Francaix, Gregor
Zubicky, oboe, Jukka-Pekka Saraste conducting the Scottish Chamber
Orchestra. Simax PSC 1064 (Qualiton Imports Ltd., NY).
I'll keep calling Gregor Zubicky "Swedish" until someone
corrects me, and I'll keep buying his discs as long as he keeps
giving these fresh, insightful performances of major works of
the oboe repertoire. This latest effort, recorded in February
of 1990, features three big reasons why the mid-20th century has
been an excellent time for the oboe. No more mourning for those
lost days of oboistic grandeur called the Baroque era! Only our
own times could have produced three such varied and variously
expressive works for oboe and small orchestra.
One of my colleagues insists that the Romantic era ended in 1949
with the death of Richard Strauss. I'm not sure it will ever be
over, but it is hard to imagine an oboe concerto to succeed this
product of Strauss's old age under American occupation in post
World War 11 Germany. Apparently the young soldier-oboist John
deLancie planted the seed for composing an oboe
concerto in Strauss's mind, and so the aftermath of the Third
Reich and the oboe repertoire became strange bedfellows. Significant
as it is for the oboe to have such a magnificent concerto from
such a major composer, I'm guessing that a majority of professional
players would just as soon avoid confronting the work as soloist.
In fact the performance notes that came back on
my copy of a solo part that had traveled to a noted American teacher's
summer camp were plain - don't program this if you can help it!
Risking a stale cliché, I'll say Gregor Zubicky makes it
sound easy. His unrestrained timbre lends itself to the endless
melodies and spinning sequences which float effortlessly, on and
on, in a manner somewhat similar to Holliger's. But there are
wonderful surprises in this interpretation, supported by the Scottish
Chamber Orchestra under the direction of Jukka-Pekka Saraste.
Zubicky reads the part meticulously, drawing out ideas, articulations,
and tempo changes I never even noticed before. The orchestra projects
nicely, particularly in the woodwind solos that partner the oboe.
Only occasionally do string parts requiring 20thcentury extremes
with 18th-century clarity overwhelm the players' abilities.
But it's Bohuslav Martinu's 1955 Concerto for Oboe and Small
Orchestra that really caught my attention. In three engaging
movements, the sixteen-minute concerto is described in Zubicky's
own excellent liner notes as "one of his most successful
works," and he takes a stab at explaining Martinu's relative
obscurity as having to do with the inconsistent quality of his
large output. I myself have difficulty describing Martinu's personal
style - French neoclassicism, Czech nationalism, and jazz influences,
to be sure, are present, but do not define what is so delightful
about him. The best I can come up with is that I hear a sort of
Czech Aaron Copland, with exotic harmonies and a truly original
personality.
The piece opens with a bold trumpet fanfare against the strings;
soon the piano, a prominent voice in the orchestration, begins
to punctuate the forward motion. After the delicate solo oboe
enters, an atmosphere of calm quickly builds back to dancing syncopations.
This is an oboe concerto, but it is far more interesting than
that, with fascinating interplay and color in the
orchestra. The second movement follows a Barber-like emotional
chord progression into a mournful horn solo, answered by the oboe
with piano accompaniment. Later, a similar pattern leads to a
cadenza of uncommon passion.
The final movement is a straightforward piece of virtuosity -
as straightforward as Martinu can allow. One of the hallmarks
of his style, in my opinion, is to turn from tears to laughter
in a split second, with perfect but astonishing ease. This performance
includes both of the two original third movement cadenzas, played,
as is the entire work, to perfection.
And finally the understated concertante gem by Jean Françaix
for John de Lancie, The Flower Clock, is suavely executed
by the Scandinavian oboist and his Scottish orchestra. Françaix's
restraint in scoring this seven-movement suite for two flutes,
two clarinets, two horns, and strings is always a surprise: an
economy of means. We know Françaix is capable of more notes;
how
nice that he doesn't use them this time! The transitions between
movements are beautifully managed, the slow tempos given expansive,
languid interpretation. The solo clarinetist is especially pleasing,
matching style with the oboe. Zubicky's playing is firm and controlled;
he has gotten all there is to get out of The Flower Clock,
making a light and graceful end to a fine recording.
Brynjar Hoff, oboe, Per Dreier conducting
the London Philharmonic Orchestra. Aurora Contemporary ACD 4965
(Qualiton Imports Ltd., NY).
Brynjar Hoff, a seasonal principal oboist with the Oslo Philharmonic
Orchestra, has assembled a fascinating collection of contemporary
Scandinavian works for oboe and orchestra, beginning with Trygve
Madsen's haunting Concerto Op. 30 of 1975. The first movement
Passacaglia follows a dark harmonic pattern as evocative of Shostakovitch
as is its intense brooding
orchestration. The variations are imaginative and convincing,
spiked with a thoughtful cadenza. The staccato scherzo has as
many twists and turns as Prokofiev, who is also cited in the liner
notes as a prime influence, but the darkness of mood still reminds
me more of Shostakovitch. The arch-form final movement opens with
an atmospheric chromatic statement by the solo oboe against quiet,
shimmering strings. Tragedy replete with heavy percussion erupts.
Madsen has adroitly maneuvered the solo oboe in and out amidst
surprisingly colorful outbursts of full orchestra, never compromising
its premier position. The effect is dramatic and entirely natural
throughout this twenty-one minute work.
Carl Gustav Sparre Olsen's Air for Oboe and Strings, Op.
67, does indeed suggest the floating 'fjord' textures of Edvard
Grieg, with a bit more harmonic adventure. A slow-moving, lyrical
tribute to Norwegian folk melody, the piece describes a poem to
the mountain lake Vagavatnet. Ragnar Soderlind takes the oboe
farther afield to his Arabian influence in Two Pieces from
the Desert, Op. 21B of 1973. An orchestrated version of the
original for oboe and piano is performed here, beginning with
"Oh, My Night, Oh My Life," an Escales-ish, sultry,
dancing tune. The vivid orchestral effects are marvelously filmy
and brash in alternation, and the piece finishes in a frenzy.
Finally, Raga by Sigurd Berge spins its hypnotic charm
for nearly sixteen minutes in what I assume is the short version.
Solo harp sets a pure-sounding backdrop for the solo oboe's exploration
of the mode or scale employed here -though I'm no ethnomusicologist,
the affect of the particular raga selected by Berge suggests a
morning piece to me. It is light and playful; even when calling
for full, heavy brass, the work is an excellent foil to the melancholy
of the Western and MiddleEastern tonalities experienced in the
previous pieces.
I am impressed not only with Brynjar Hoff's particularly focused
tonal intensity and fine technique, as well as the excellent accompaniment
from the London Philharmonic Orchestra under Per Dreier, but also
with the Scandinavian oboists's selection of four engaging contemporary
compositions. The Norwegian Society of Composers has accessible,
challenging oboe music to
offer audiences and oboists alike.
Oboenkonzerte, Hansjörg Schellenberger,
oboe, James Levine conducting the Berlin Philharmonic. Deutsche
Grammophon 429 750-2.
If you want to wallow in the sound of a German orchestra playing
Richard Strauss, here's your chance: Hansjörg Schellenberger's
new recording of the oboe concerto with the Berlin Philharmonic
conducted by James Levine. Here is an orchestra with all the forces
in place to render a perfectly bittersweet postscript to the 19th
century. The woodwind solos are
placed behind the solo oboe compared to other recordings recently
reviewed, but the real dialogue takes place between Schellenberger's
pure, liquid sound and the magnificent presence of a huge force
of virtuosic strings. The lush, sliding chromaticism of fin d'siecle
Vienna (never mind the composition date and place of Garmisch,
1945) simply has never sounded more satisfying.
This is a polished, carefully balanced recording of Strauss. In
the second movement, the inner lines of the string sections split
apart and soar in different directions. The recitative is the
most convincing I've heard, working itself into a coloratura cadenza,
precisely as Strauss wrote it, which miraculously gives the impression
of spontaneity. In this and the final cadenza,
Schellenberger proves his artistic depth by making Strauss's law
Schellenberger's own improvisation. The exuberance of the vivace
is swept along by waves of surging strings; the oboe bobs away
in their midst. The final allegro is given at a restrained tempo,
wringing out every last drop of emotion, and eventually driving
to a sparkling conclusion.
The disc opens with a too bombastic rendition of Mozart K. 314.
Accurate as this orchestra must be, the great wall of sound they
project has little to do with my sense of Mozart. Schellenberger
is agile and in perfect control, to be sure, but the shrieking
swells and percussive accents provided by the army of generals
behind him distract me. His cadenza is one minute and twenty seconds
long, filled with both too much recapitulation and too much original
material. And so it goes. Don't look for historical authenticity,
but I'm sure many will find this an accurate, agreeable, maybe
even musically inspiring performance.
Schellenberger has played principal oboe with the Berlin Philharmonic
since 1980, and has a long list of impressive credentials. He
takes the opportunity to play operatic diva to his colleagues
in Bellini's E flat Major Concerto. This six-minute show piece
begins with a vigorous introduction by the orchestra. The oboe's
slow aria, "larghetto cantabile," is full of its own
ornamentation, while the concluding "allegro polonaise"
has the dancing virtuosity of a cabaletta, contrasted by more
pensive sections. One is sometimes thankful when the Berlin Philharmonic
is reduced to pizzicato.
Hansjörg Schellenberger &
Margit-Anna Süss Duo Recital, Hansjörg Schellenberger,
oboe and English horn, Margit-Anna Süss, harp. Denon (Nippon
Columbia Co., Ltd., by A&M Records) 81757 66112.
It is a mixed metaphor: the primeval earth and the celestial sky.
No wonder Hansjörg Schellenberger had to borrow so much flute
music to assemble this duo recital with harpist Margit-Anna Süss
of the Berlin Philharmonic. Jacques Ibert's Entr'act opens
with its Spanishguitar exoticisms. Schellenberger has just the
right amount of urgency, his tone a fine-grained velvet with no
edge. The famous Siciliano from J.S. Bach's BWV 1031 is
accommodated by oboe and harp in a straight-forward, tasteful
manner. Charles Bochsa's Nocturne in F Major for Oboe and
Harp, Op. 50, No. 2, a work actually composed for this medium,
tends to drone on in eight-bar phrases with pleasant variations
divided by tiny cadenzas - well-crafted stuff for the oboe/harp
Sunday brunch circuit.
Next, Schellenberger gives us a beautiful if safe reading of Gordon
Jacob's Seven Bagatelles for Solo Oboe which was written
for Sarah Francis around 1970. I haven't encountered other recordings
of this work, and it's good to have one in the library. The adagio
from Albinoni's D minor Concerto, Op. 9, No. 2, is certainly
a touching gem to excerpt and transcribe for
oboe and harp; Schellenberger'sornamentation is inventive and
pleasing. The Omaggio, a Bellini by Antonio Pasculli delivers
all the English horn fireworks one might expect, and is immediately
contrasted by Charles Koechlin's short Monodie for solo
English horn. Written in 1947, this
piece is described by Schellenberger in his liner notes as a "hanging,
wandering monody."
A simple andante from an early Mozart keyboard sonata with violin
obligato offers a graceful vehicle for oboe and harp before they
conclude the recording with Henri Brod's Nocturne Op. 16 (variations)
on themes from Rossini's The Siege of Corinth. Composed
as a display piece for Brod himself, an oboist at the Paris Opera,
the work also functioned musically to publicize operatic productions
beyond the opera house. The work does hold interest; the variations
have musical substance and the pyrotechnics are held in check.
Works for solo harp by Fauré and Prokofiev round off this
anthology of infrequently heard repertoire, recorded in 1990.
Klassische Oboen-Konzerte, Burkhard
Glaetzner, oboe, Hartmut Haenchen conducting Kammerorchester "Carl
Philipp Emanuel Bach." Capriccio 10 087 (DELTA Music GmbH,
5020 Frechen 4, West Germany).
Two 'other' classical oboe concertos are prefaced by Mozart's
on this recording by the German oboist Burkhard Glaetzner with
the 'Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach' Chamber Orchestra conducted by
Hartmut Haenchen. I was reminded by the liner notes (by Manfred
Fechner) that Giuseppe Ferlendis was the oboist in the court at
Salzburg for whom Mozart originally composed K.
314. Including Ferlendis's own Concerto in F Major along
with the F major oboe concerto by Franz Anton Rössler-Rosetti
is a nice idea.
Burkhard Glaetzner seems to have a hitch in his git-along as he
rollicks through the first movement of K. 314, bumping the appoggiaturas
like grace notes before the beat and stopping midphrase short
figures abruptly in an effortful, awkward way. He is not satisfied
with the oboe's urtext, preferring the additional challenge of
what seems to be the flute version, with doubleoctave leaps and
alternate rhythm patterns. His first movement cadenza, a nearly
two-minute flight of imagination, is the silliest I have ever
heard. The CPE Bach Chamber Orchestra holds itself to a rich,
almost original-instrument sound , with a comfortable sense of
phrasing. In the second movement, which pleases more than the
first, the orchestra reaches into the solo oboe line with flexibility
and sensitivity. This orchestra makes a great partner for Mozart,
showing good style in articulation, a dynamic range suited to
its soloist, and a warm, vibrant timbre. Glaetzner is no
small musical talent, either; those bored with 'normal' interpretations
of the work might find this recording intriguing. There are so
many additional ornaments and variations from the urtext that
after awhile, the work, especially the last movement, begins to
take on new meaning!
Hartmut Haenchen and his excellent little orchestra did not let
me down through the remainder of the disc. Each of the following
two concertos, in three movements, was well performed, and suffered
less, by comparison to other performances, than the Mozart. Glaetzner's
style is unmistakable and his tone, blatant. But he is true to
his own musical ideas, and in complete
control of his instrument, with fine dynamic expressiveness.
Rosetti (Rossler)'s work, according to the liner notes, was probably
intended for the transverse flute. It strikes me as less attractive
than Ferlendis's concerto, which has the entertaining crescendos
and other devices of the Mannheim school, and offers more expressive
opportunities for what Manfred Fechner calls "the speaking
oboe."
Oboe Sonatas, Peter Bree, oboe and
English horn, Paul Komen, piano. Etcetera KTC 1074 (Qualiton Imports,
Ltd., NY).
The last recording of this session features a compact disc re-release
of five lesser-known works of the 20th century for oboe and piano,
originally recorded on LP in 1981. None of the pieces had been
available on record prior to that time. Dutch oboist Peter Bree,
whose credits include study with Han de Vries, a solo career in
concerts and broadcasting, and extensive contact with
composers and new music, is accompanied by pianist Paul Komen.
Opening with Edmund Rubbra's rhapsodic, dramatic Sonata in
C Minor Op. 100 of 1958, Bree proves to be a reliable, thoughtful
player. The first movement has a signature harmonic sequence in
its first theme that foreshadows some contemporary minimalist
works, but it soon develops its half step motives in traditional
ways. The slower second movement Elegy is cut from the same cloth,
and the ambivalent Presto finally settles on a C major conclusion.
The whole sonata, under twelve minutes, sounds very playable and
programmable. I'll bet it will be showing up more often in the
future.
Next Bree offers Rubbra's Duo Op. 156 for English Horn
and Piano, which was actually commissioned by Peter Bree for his
own use and first performed in 1981. He finds it idiomatic for
the English horn, a "leisurely" and "useful piece,"
of about four minutes, but for me it lacks the interest of the
oboe sonata. Martin Grabert's (1868-1951) Sonata in G Minor Op.
52 for oboe and piano sets a more 19th-century tone in this composer's
only work for oboe and piano. The first movement is a short sonata
form with a characteristic dotted rhythm in the five-note first
motive. The ABA second movement features the oboe in a statement
of a simple tune accompanied by block chords in the piano. The
final Allegretto has a pleasant minor rondo theme and a short
development. This is a wellcrafted little sonata by a German church
organist whose style is not unlike that of Reinecke or Herzogenberg.
Benjamin Britten needs no introduction, but his Temporal Variations
for Oboe and Piano may. This one-movement, thirteen-minute work,
originally titled Temporal Suite, went into hibernation following
its premiere in 1936 and was not published until after Britten's
death in 1976. An angular, abstract (and at times humorous) string
of sections entitled "Theme - Oration - March - Exercises
- Commination - Choral - Waltz - Polka - Resolution," the
work evidently pleased its composer, but not many others. Its
texture is open and not too busy, and I imagine we are well-prepared
for its dissonance by now. As Bree points out in his liner notes,
"here we have an important addition ... to oboe literature,"
since Britten left us only two other works.
Jules Rontgen is one of those 19th-century composers who lived
into the 20th century and allowed his style to change and adapt
to new influences. By 1918, when he wrote his first (of two) oboe
sonatas, he had absorbed some hints of Debussy, as well as the
Norwegian nationalism of Edvard Grieg, into his conservative German
background. This is a substantial, four movement sonata of about
fifteen minutes, with some inventive melodic ideas.