Thomas de Hartmann (1884-1956)
Orchestral Music Volume 2
Symphonie-Poème No 1, Op 50 (1934)
Fantasie-Concerto for double-bass and orchestra, Op 65 (1942-44)
Leon Bosch (double bass)
Lviv National Philharmonic Orchestra of Ukraine/Theodore Kuchar
rec. 2021, National Philharmonic Hall, Lviv, Ukraine
TOCCATA CLASSICS TOCC0676 [82]
Another composer of whom I knew neither name nor note before this CD arrived. Intrigued by the publicity material which states; “The Symphonie-Poème No 1 … occupies a vast canvas and requires a correspondingly huge orchestra, generating a monumental sense of scale” [the work runs for 65:31], I wondered if Toccata Classics had managed to unearth yet another major yet forgotten work. The simple – and rather wonderful – answer is yes. This is marked as Volume Two in Toccata’s survey of Thomas de Hartmann’s orchestral music – Volume One was released earlier in 2022 alongside a quite independent release from Nimbus which explores three more of his orchestral scores. Perhaps this is the year Thomas de Hartmann comes in from the compositional cold. All three discs are played by the Lviv National Philharmonic Orchestra of Ukraine – the country of de Hartmann’s birth.
De Hartmann was something of a child prodigy; he was studying composition with Anton Arensky by the time he was eleven. Famous as a composer in his own right, Arensky would also teach Rachmaninov, Prokofiev and Skryabin. Tchaikovsky’s former pupil Sergei Taneyev also provided tuition – successfully it would seem since de Hartmann had his first works published by the time he was fifteen. But do not expect to hear these scores as simply some continuation of the Russian Romantic Symphonic tradition. Curiously the quote above also includes a comparison/reference to Rachmaninov’s Symphony No 2 – a likeness that eludes me completely except simply in terms of scale. The liner for this CD includes a very informative and valuable biographical note by Elan Sicroff (who is the piano soloist in the Piano Concerto on the Nimbus disc) and a second essay on the music by Evan A. MacCarthy. All of the information regarding the composer and the music in this review is drawn from those two sources. Although de Hartmann enjoyed considerable success in his home country, he also travelled widely meeting creatives, philosophers and thinkers who both reflected and inspired his artistic and spiritual world-view. He fled Ukraine at the outbreak of the Russian Revolution in 1917 and subsequently lived and worked in and around Paris for the next thirty or so years. Finally, he moved to the USA in 1950. Sicroff mentions some ninety scores written in a “classical” idiom [including four Symphonie-Poèmes, seven concerti, ballets and an opera], fifty three film scores and several hundred pieces of sacred music from the East written in collaboration with his spiritual teacher Georges Ivanovich Gurdjieff – a fellow revolutionary refugee. The writing of film scores was a pragmatic response to a requirement to support himself financially in a foreign land – in much the same way that exiles from Nazi Germany would in Hollywood in the 1930’s.
Sicroff mentions 1934 as the beginning of de Hartmann’s most productive period. This is the same year as the main work on this disc; the Symphonie-Poème No 1, Op 50. The work is written in the standard/traditional four movement form with the scherzo movement second – but that is just about the only standard thing about it. De Hartmann writes in an eclectic but unique manner. His musical vocabulary is what might be termed post-Romantic/Modernist. For sure the music is tenuously tonal and ‘traditional’ forms such as a fugue or folk-style dance might flit across its musical landscape. But just as the listener is trying to impose some pre-existing style or influence on the music that apparent reference will vanish like a wisp of morning mist. This score is genuinely extra-ordinary in the literal sense. For sure it is not the most revolutionary work – certainly not for the date of its composition – in terms of form, harmony or use of rhythm – but at the same time I cannot think of any other work quite like it. I suppose in terms of ambition, scale and sweep Marx’s Eine Herbstsymphonie or Hausegger’s Natursymphonie spring to mind although not in terms of musical style. Much as I enjoy large portions of both those works, that pleasure is countered by passages convolutions that to my ear are less convincing – something I do not encounter in de Hartmann’s work. One thing that that comparison does throw up is for all the influences and stylistic mix at play here, de Hartmann does not emulate Strauss and the German Romantics. If forced to find a description I would say it is mainly Russian influenced – but in a cosmopolitan way, with a significant dose of Skryabin – although better orchestrated – with other Eastern European folk music present too. The orchestration is unique but with more than a little impressionism refracted through the same lens as say Stravinsky and Respighi did in their earlier scores.
In the liner Sicroff explains the extra-musical influences on de Hartmann and how he sought to express these ideas and concepts in musical form. The range and complexity of De Hartmann’s world-view is beyond the scope of this review so I would point the curious to the excellent website which is behind this current series of recordings.
Sicroff wisely advises the listener not to try and understand all of de Hartmann’s spiritual and intellectual goals or how he tried to express them in his scores. Perhaps that will come with repeated listenings and a wider knowledge and appreciation of his oeuvre – in the meantime just sit back and enjoy the ride. For enjoyable this most certainly is. Perhaps due to his experience with film, de Hartmann deploys a very large orchestra with considerable skill and sense of instrumental colour. MacCarthy lists him as using; “large wind, brass, string and percussion sections, together with celesta, piano (for four hands), and two harps [and] three saxophones”. What is certain is how de Hartmann somehow manages to be wildly eclectic with his range of influences yet bind these together in a work that is both effective and individual. The liner reprints the composer’s description of this work from his unpublished memoir which I reproduce here in full; “This Symphony is purely a musical work, and there is no absolute subject. Nevertheless, one feels the principal idea behind the work: Humanity bewitched mechanically is thus without belief and without hope. Only memory of the past brings one back to a superior life, to beauty, to youth (Scherzo), to one’s native country (Andante). In the Finale, its madly whirling dance throws one into chaos, into despair, into the annihilation of mechanized Humanity. But let us repeat: this symphony belongs to a pure musical dimension and does not require explanation. Every person feels this Symphony in accordance with what he himself is. Its aim is only to provoke life in those that listen to it”.
In listening terms this translates as an extended [21:14] and broodingly powerful opening movement, a dancing Scherzo with echoes of Borodinesque lyricism which reaches an impassioned central climax. This is followed by a slow movement which is the one time perhaps de Hartmann echoes Rachmaninov with a long breathed string melody – the rippling harp, percussion and piano accompaniment at the movement’s close is one of the passages that reminded me of Respighi’s Roman Trilogy and quite unlike his exiled compatriot. This is also a good example of how effectively de Hartmann deploys the saxophones which are used – as mentioned – purely as an alternative timbre rather than having any extra-musical connotation. The closing movement has the curious/contradictory marking Allegretto feroce and starts with a solo violin in quasi folk-dance mood before a very extended and unrelentingly energetic movement [13:59] with a curious ‘double’ ending. The work seems to finish – but there is a very brief hushed “momento mori” (tubular bells, tam-tam and four bare woodwind chords) before the work rushes to a final 1:15 coda where folk elements are strongly present in an exhilarating conclusion which I struggle to relate to “chaos, despair and annihilation” the composer references above.
This is a work that has grown on me considerably during the repeated listening required to write this review. The sheer vibrant colour and skilful orchestration were never in doubt but the compositional control and melodic invention has become more apparent. The premiere in 1935 Paris received mixed reviews. But in with negative comments esteemed figures such as composer/critic Florent Schmidt described it as “a strange, curious, extraordinary thing” while Émile Vuillermoz [a major critic and co-founder of the Société musicale indépendante] found it “worthy of the esteem of all musicians … what musical temperament, what orchestral richness, and what constant interest in this tumultuous musical language”.
This is certainly a major work and a rewarding listen for anyone who has a taste for large-scale symphonic works written in a post-Romantic idiom. Praise too for the performance of the Lviv National Philharmonic Orchestra of Ukraine under Theodore Kuchar and the work of producer-engineer Andriy Mokrytskiy. Clearly this is a work unknown to the wider world prior to this recording which was part of a three concert ‘festival’ and associated sessions in Lviv. The orchestra play with an ideal combination of virtuosity and style. Interestingly, it does not sound like an Eastern European orchestra – with the wind and brass (yes there really is brass!) well-blended and balanced and the strings warm and rich. Kuchar is well-known to collectors for his wide and critically acclaimed discography and this is an important addition to it. This is a wholly convincing interpretation with Kuchar moulding this potentially discursive and unusual work into an impressive whole.
Not so long ago an hour-plus symphony on a disc would seem generous alone. Here, Toccata adds the Fantasie-Concerto for double-bass and orchestra, Op 6. This concerto is a much more compact 16:16 which results in an exceptionally generous total playing time of 81:49. The soloist is Leon Bosch – a British bassist born in South Africa – and he plays quite beautifully. The score for this work is the only piece by the composer on IMSLP and can be viewed here. Interesting to note from the printed score that the soloist’s part is written a tone down from the rest of the orchestra but with the instrument tuned a tone up. I assume this extra string tension allows the instrument to cut through the quite thick textures as well as giving it a more “singing” quality. Whatever the truth of that, the balance is extremely well handled on this recording with the solo line clear except in the very busiest orchestral passages.
Again, the strongly contrasting styles between movements and eclectic nature of the music is striking. The opening Allegro con brio is relatively dissonant and spiky, the central Adagio is titled Romance 1830 and is a lyrical slightly mournful Russian song before another folkdance inspired closing Allegro commodo. According to de Hartmann’s memoir, the work was written; “with the unique double bass sound of Serge Koussevitzky in mind”. MacCarthy points out that Koussevitzky had been a famed soloist and performer on the double bass before becoming a conductor. Another source of inspiration for the work is the story related by de Hartmann of the composer Glinka having fragments of his opera Ruslan and Ludmilla played to him by his bass-playing servant in the Ukrainian countryside of the early 19th Century – hence the “Romance 1830”. Given the general paucity of concerti for this instrument I am surprised that more players have not taken up this attractive and easily appealing work. For sure it exists in a musical cocoon blissfully unbothered by world (or musical) events in 1942 but not every piece of Art needs to reflect with pained accuracy the age in which it was created. This is a far less complex work in every respect than the Symphonie-Poème but still de Hartmann orchestrates with real flair and individuality which is well-caught again by the impressive engineering on this disc.
Earlier this year I enjoyed enormously another major but forgotten symphony released by Toccata – Mischa Spoliansky’s Symphony in Five Movements. This is a very different but also tremendously interesting and rewarding work to listen to. What they do share is Toccata’s excellent presentation and high production values. My only regret is having arrived at the Thomas de Hartmann party two discs too late – an error I intend to correct forthwith.
Nick Barnard
Previous review: Lee Denham (December 2022)
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