Paul van Kempen, Volume 3 = ROSSINI: William Tell Overture; The Barber of Seville Overture; SMETANA: The Bartered Bride Overture; GRIEG: Symphonic Dances, Op. 64; SCHUMANN: Symphony No. 4 in D Minor, Op. 120 – Dresden Philharmonic Orchestra/Paul van Kempen
Historic-Recordings HRCD 00043, 73:00 [www.historic-recordings.uk.com] ****:
Once again, thanks to the efforts of Neil Kurz–from the collection of Mike Gartz–and producer Paul Terry, the artistry of Paul van Kempen (1873-1955) with the Dresden Philharmonic Orchestra preserved on the Polydor label becomes available to us; here, a third installment (c. 1940) that demonstrates why Kempen’s discipline raised the Dresden ensemble after 1934 to international status. The Kempen capacity for subtle nuance and delicacy of phrase shines forth at the outset of Rossini’s William Tell – the cello, strings, and tympani in translucent sympathy. After a fierce storm, we have the famous–perhaps notorious–gallop amid trumpet flourishes and string cascades by which The Lone Ranger acquired universality. Toscanini has nothing on Kempen’s feverish driven account which sails into glory, a resolute triumph. The Barber of Seville Overture opens marcato and elastically moves through the oboe and brass to the string melodic figures, plucked and legato. The buffa qualities soon exert themselves in pomposo and whirlwind heraldry, the syncopations deftly colorful, the string trills the envy of any conductor. The inevitable crescendo culminates in a color frenzy, smooth as it is muscular.
Smetana’s The Bartered Bride Overture takes its cue from the power of gossip: the bustling string figures convey the swirl and grand rise of scandalous conjectures until a paroxysm of village flak erupts. That Smetana can make this other vicious human habit so affable and bubbly is the miracle of his art. The wonderful love melody and spirit of optimism that shines through–in counterpoint–exerts a vibrancy in Kempen that well demands our perpetual admiration.
I have long admired the 1896 set of Symphonic Dances of Grieg, my first inscription likely being that of Morton Gould for RCA. Kempen launches into the first of the dances, in G Major, with both intense resolve and plastic nuance. Its darker undercurrents do not escape Kempen’s notice, and we can always hear a touch of the tragic in sighs from Peer Gynt. The A Major–an old favorite of Sir Thomas Beecham–enjoys a quieter surface than the first dance and lulls its way into our hearts with a melody of delicious simplicity over plucked strings. The D Major exerts halling qualities, perhaps the most folkish of the four dances. Its fluttering agogics and bristling colors assume electric energy through Kempen, and the Dresden orchestra principals virtually strut their bravura level of execution. The A Minor dance elicits those somberly Northern, angular qualities that link Grieg to Sibelius and Nielsen. The driven mania of the first two minutes finally relents into something like Grieg’s equivalent of a wistful laendler. The last word, however, reminds us that the “idea of North” does not retain its warmth for long.
The Schumann Fourth seems chiseled out of a single block of Romantic marble, with Kempen’s driving the transitions hard at breakneck speed. Played as an orchestral toccata, the music here exerts an “experimental” guise, as if Schumann were playing the same figures for their plastic permutations, in the manner of Beethoven’s Fifth. Martial affects segue into love songs and vice versa, all the while under a welling tension that everywhere strains at the leash. That the piece manages to exert an emotional sense of mysticism testifies to Kempen’s authority in matters of tempo, discipline, and architecture, a master of the idiom which he commanded with visceral authority. A must-have disc for the historical-minded connoisseur.
–Gary Lemco
