BRUCH: Symphony No. 1 in E-flat Major, Op. 28; Symphony No. 2 in F Minor, Op. 36 – Staatskapelle Weimar/Michael Halasz – Naxos 8.570994, 61:07 ****:
Michael Halasz, a Christoph van Dohnanyi protégé, has made a reputation for a wide-ranging repertory, especially conducive to the catholic tastes of the Naxos label. Halasz takes on (17-20 March 2008) two symphonies by Max Bruch (1838-1920), who exists in the popular mind as a composer of one significant violin concerto and assorted “national” or “ethnic” pieces, like the Scottish Fantasy and Kol Nidre. The E-flat Major Symphony (1867) is dedicated to Brahms and proceeds in standard sonata-form to unveil both bucolic and dramatic flourishes in confident tones, Allegro maestoso. Oboe and winds modulate to G Major for the sunny harmonies that could be attributed to Dvorak in a German mode. Some of the internal rhythms and martial riffs invoke Mendelssohn–of the Reformation Symphony–or Joachim Raff. The scoring, with its fondness for suspensions and cross-rhythms, often favors a hazy sensibility of a romantic symphonic poem. The coda transforms skittish figures into heroic fanfares that smack of the Romantics’ frothy imitations of Beethoven.
The Scherzo in G Minor definitely nods to Mendelssohn’s fairyland or perhaps Weber in an expansive mood. The trio in G Major has a light but Wagnerian ethos. The da capo’s woodwind writing, along with the scurrying strings and horn fanfares, trips the light fantastic with virtuosic charm. The dark hues of E-flat Minor color the Quasi Fantasia: Grave, again the scoring–and melodic arch–a merger of impulses we hear in Mendelssohn and Wagner. A solo quartet of clarinet, oboe, cello, and viola add another somber palette to the mix. The texture thickens to assume an organ sonority. A sense of explosive urgency opens the last movement, Allegro guerriero, another influence from Mendelssohn, especially in the Scottish Symphony. The swaggering militancy evolves into B-flat Major where cross-rhythms dominate. The lyrically galloping energies quite abound, and we feel that conductor Hermann Levi, Bruch’s mentor, likely encouraged the integration of Bruch’s academic command of German style with his innate gifts as a tunesmith.
Bruch turned to a second symphony in 1870, producing a three-movement work in F Minor, Op. 36, which clearly assumes the heavier coloring we associate with Brahms. The first movement urges heaviness and gravity, with attempts at softer sentiments from selected woodwinds. The faster passages owe something to Liszt or agitated Mendelssohn. We sense an orage or storm movement well under way, a kind of Flying Dutchman sensibility without clear references to water music. A series of intense stretti resound and then become punctuated by horn fanfares in the Schumann style, only to modulate to the recapitulation in good sonata-form.
The C Minor Adagio ma non troppo likes those pedal tones we associate with Bruckner. The scoring, however, remains more airy and light, the melos emanating from the strings in the manner of a thickly-textured serenade. The four-beat ostinato in the bass nods to Beethoven’s symphony in the same key but in a softer, more rural atmosphere. The melodic facility and ease of expression easily recalls Dvorak and Brahms, especially the former’s natural spontaneity of expression. The layered development clearly suggests Bruckner. This work should be more popular, but its lack of a scherzo may account for its rarity in the concert hall. The last movement, marked Allegro molto tranquillo, still manages some militant figures in F Major that allude to Schumann’s Allegro Appassionato, Op. 92 for Piano and Orchestra. The sweet episodes for the G strings of the violins over a pedal serve as both modulation and creamy references to Beethoven’s procedures. But aside from its litany of influences, Bruch’s music speaks to us of a sincere and ardent melodist whose conservative faith in sonata-form brings resonant rewards.
–Gary Lemco
