Lutosławski: Concerto for Orchestra, Symphony No. 1
NFM Wrocław Philharmonic Orchestra
Stanisław Skrowaczewski, conductor
ACCORD 196-2 (58:23)
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This review appears in Fanfare Magazine issue 38:1.
Poland really knows how to celebrate its composers. Anniversary
celebrations, for everybody from Chopin to Panufnik, are typically marked with
concerts of their music around the world, academic publications, and major
recording projects, all lavishly subsidized by the state. And given the
extraordinary talents that have emerged from the country in the last half century
or so, the global music community is all the better off for it, even if it
leaves many of us non-Poles with a distinct feeling of resentment that our own
governments don’t promote or foster native talent in the same way.
It could be argued that Witold Lutosławski doesn’t need this kind of treatment. He
certainly became a global new-music presence in the last few decades of his
life, and major artists and record labels have ensured that his greatest works
have had the exposure they deserve. Even so, there are always forgotten corners
to any great composer’s catalog that warrant investigation. This, presumably,
was the motivation behind the Witold
Lutosławski Opera Omina series, instigated in his centenary year. This release
is the fourth in the cycle, and if it is representative, then the whole
enterprise looks very promising.
Stanisław Skrowaczewski is an interesting choice of conductor and, as it
turns out, a good one. Given the amount of impulsive energy and youthful zest
behind these early works, his age might seem to count against him—he was 89
when these recordings were made. On the other hand, Skrowaczewski is more or
less of Lutosławski’s
generation, and the two men knew each other well, even though Skrowaczewski
has spent most of his career abroad. His obvious affinity with this music fits
into a pattern that he has established in his recent recordings, giving
interpretations—mostly of core repertoire—that speak of intelligence,
engagement, and emotional commitment. He’s not the most physically active
conductor on the podium these days (understandably), yet he is still able to
give the music all the energy and life it needs. It is a combination that
results in exceptional Bruckner, slightly idiosyncratic but still compelling
Brahms, and Beethoven that seems completely reinvented through a long lifetime’s
engagement.
So what about Lutosławski? The one over-riding impression that these live performances
give is of a conductor and orchestra seeking to emphasize the profundity and
importance of the music. Which isn’t to say that anything here is stuffy or
reverential, but it is undoubtedly “symphonic” in every respect. Textures are
always full, yet the many details of Lutosławski’s inventive orchestration are
meticulously observed. Even when the tempos are fast, as in the Capriccio movement
of the concerto for orchestra, nothing is ever throwaway.
The competition with the concerto for orchestra is fierce, and there is
no point in arguing that this is the finest available. (On a Polish radio
program last year, a panel of experts listened blind to all the available recordings
and came down in favor of Edward Gardner’s Chandos version, a verdict I’ll
happily endorse.) But Skrowaczewski’s
is a reading brimming with musical intelligence. Everything is finely wrought,
and everything happens for a reason. His tempos are agile and fluid, and he can
bring a real sense of weight when required (at the opening for instance) and a
sense of lightness when that is called for (such as in the second movement).
The First Symphony is represented by fewer recordings, and is widely
seen as a lesser work. In fact, the liner notes tell us that Skrowaczewski
himself tried to persuade the composer to withdraw it soon after its premiere. Perhaps
it lacks the formal coherence of the concerto, but it’s just as inventive, with
that continual sense of spontaneity that keeps Lutosławski’s music so engaging. Again, Skrowaczewski
gives an interpretation that is excellent on its own terms, but that doesn’t
quite match the best available, and I suspect consensus here would point to
Esa-Pekka Salonen’s version with the Los Angeles Philharmonic. The NFM Wrocław Philharmonic sounds
like a world-class ensemble in the concerto, but this may be down to sheer
familiarity with the work. In the First Symphony they don’t
have that advantage, and while it is still a good performance, the clarity of
texture that Lutosławski’s music relies isn’t so apparent. There are many good
aspects to the orchestral playing though, especially the dark, rich tone of the
lower strings. That seems to benefit particularly from the sound engineering,
which, presumably in an attempt to create a realistic soundstage, brings the
strings close but recesses the winds and percussion to a fault.
Minor quibbles only, though, and the recording is recommended
nonetheless. Fans of Skrowaczewski
will certainly want it for the distinctive readings he gives. (I’m looking
forward to the day when the Polish musical establishment puts its resources
behind a celebration of Skrowaczewski’s compositions; it can only be a matter
of time.) One other major selling point is the packaging and accompanying
literature. The slipcase arrangement is attractive indeed, and the accompanying
booklet it contains includes a fascinating essay by Rafał Augustyn, which
addresses the vexed issue of the folksong sources for the concerto for
orchestra. It is lavishly illustrated with musical examples from the compendium
the composer originally consulted.
These may not be the only
recordings of the two works available, nor are they the best, but they are
still very good, and if the series continues to maintain these production values,
it may earn an authoritative status, irrespective of the competition. This review appears in Fanfare Magazine issue 38:1.
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