February 3, 2016

  • Exploring Ginastera

     

    Modern Times: Alberto Ginastera
    Maria Isabel Segarra, soprano. Deutsche Staatsphilharmonie Rheinland-Pfalz/Karl-Heinz Steffens
    Capriccio 5244
    Total Time: 79:04
    Recording:   ****/****
    Performance: ****/****

     

    One of the more fascinating trends in the early 20th Century was the exploration of folkloricism in music.  Essentially an extension of the more nationalistic music of the previous century, the composers of the 20th Century worked to utilize more authentic folk melodies often lifting them for direct quotation in their own works.  This has often led to the creation of some of the more popular works of the period.  No more was this more the case than in the composers from Latin and South America whose own rich heritage of unique rhythmic inflections and instruments would provide great inspiration for many.  Of these, Argentinean composer Alberto Ginastera (1916-1983) is perhaps one of the most important and this new release features four lesser-known works including a world premiere recording of a suite from the opera Bomarzo.

    The recording is arranged sort of like a Ginastera concert.  It opens with the 1943 Overture on the Creole Faust.  Exploring folk themes and rhythms (with one idea that would find another treatment in Estancia) as well as quotation from Gounod’s Faust.  The result is a rather fascinating blend of folk music with 19th-Century Romanticism brilliantly orchestrated.

    Next up is the Variaciones Concertantes, Op. 23 from 1953.  The piece is for a chamber orchestra and is representative of the composer’s second development period often referred to as “Subjective Nationalism”.  Here we have moved away from more specific folk quotation, to music whose rhythms and style are informed by this nationalist flare.  In this work, a simple theme is presented for cello and harp at first.  This is simply gorgeous with some modern harmonic inflections.  Then different instrumental solos explore this idea as the work progresses through a series variations.  There are “Interludes” that first explore the string section, and then later winds.  A reprise of the main theme is heard set for double bass before a full orchestra rondo variation brings the work to a close.   This is a really wonderful work that allows the orchestral chairs to shine and it is rather surprising that this is not heard more often.  The piece is an often moving experience making full use of the orchestra and demonstrating wit and sparkle through variations that also explore emotion and techniques of perpetual motion and canon.  The finale has moments that feel a bit Stravinskian at times, but also with that equally unique Argentinean flair.  We can almost hear the new direction Ginastera is headed by the time the work reaches its exciting conclusion.

    Ollantay, Op. 17 comes at the end of Ginatera’s “Objective Nationalism” phase from the first part of his career covering works from 1934-47).  Composed in 1947, the three-movement work takes its inspiration from the holy book of the Guatemalan Quiche Indians, Popul Vuh.  It is a musical tryptych providing three windows into history and legend and exploring some of the composer’s filmic/dramatic writing.  The music follows the confluct between its title character, Ollantay, the son of the Earth; and the son of the Sun, Inka.  The first is a picturesque depiction of the landscape of this story.  The second, “The Warriors” explores this ongoing battle and the final movement its outcome, “The Death of Ollantay.”  The work was dedicated to Erich Kleiber who found refuge from the Nazis in Argentina where he stayed through 1950.

    The final work comes from later in Ginastera’s life and is based on his opera Bomarzo (1966-67).  This piece takes on more Neo-expressionist styles exploring serialism, microtonality, aleatoric writing, but also infusions of melody and tonality.  In some ways, the suite becomes a hodgepodge of some of the new musical aesthetics and techniques of the 20th Century.  The somewhat controversial story about this historic 16th-Century duke led to the ban of the project.  Ginastera subsequently banned its performance in Buenos Aires along with any of his work in retaliation.  The opera was premiered in 1967 in Washington, D.C., conducted by Julius Rudel who also would premiere the suite heard here in 1970.

    A Rhenish orchestra may seem like an unlikely place for Ginastera’s music to land, but the performances here are solid with superb demonstrations of the ensembles precision and virtuosic ability.  There is pretty fierce competition even for this rarer repertoire with even a new Chandos release appearing with similar pieces.  What Capriccio has going for it in this case is the opportunity to hear music from the opera in this un-recorded suite that is a substantial work at just over a half hour.  Steffens provides committed performances here from his orchestra and the well-chosen program gives us a glimpse into the distinctive periods of Ginastera’s life in this continuing series of releases.