Eugene Zádor (1894-1977)
Hungarian Scherzo (1975)
Suite for Horn, Strings and Percussion (1972)
Lullaby for Horn and Piano (arr. for horn and string orchestra Mariusz Smolij) (1973)
Kammerkonzert (1931)
Suite for 8 celli (1966)
Celebration Music (1968)
Zoltán Szőke, Imre Kováts, Bálint Képíró (horns), Katalin Sarkady (piano
Budapest Symphony Orchestra MÁV/Mariusz Smolij
rec. 2020/22, Hungaroton Studio, Budapest, Hungary
Naxos 8.574262 [71]
With this seventh volume of music – many works being given premiere recordings – Eugene Zádor is able to move out of the shadows of being ‘just’ Miklós Rozsa’s exclusive orchestrator in Hollywood and be assessed in his own right as a composer. As with many of his contemporaries fleeing the Nazis in Europe, Zádor’s career fell into two distinct phases; a traditional classical music path of composition/performing/teaching followed by a career having to find what work they could with the film industry offering the most lucrative solution. For many of the most famous names; Korngold, Waxman, Steiner and Rozsa there was an enduring creative tension between the film work that paid the bills and the desire to produce enduring concert-hall works. My sense is that Zádor was more sanguine about this relationship. A notable feature of his catalogue of work viewable here is just how productive he was during his American years and indeed right into old age. Of the six works on this disc five were written when the composer was in his seventies with the 1975 Hungarian Scherzo listed as his final orchestral work produced at the age of 81.
It is with this work that the disc opens. All of the “American” works here seem to have been composed on commission/at the request of friends or colleagues. This Scherzo was a commission to mark the American Bicentennial. As the liner notes the rather sombre opening initially makes the title seem inappropriate. The Hungarian accent to the main melody is unmistakeable – sinuous and melancholy and distinctly reminiscent of compatriots such as Kodaly or indeed Rozsa. The more I hear of this enjoyable music the more I am struck by the notion that perhaps the enduring success of the working relationship between Rozsa and Zádor was that they were creative kindred spirits but that crucially Zádor did not have an ego that demanded to be the ‘name in lights’. When the music does become more scherzo-like around the two minute mark all the hallmarks of Zádor’s skilled and attractive orchestration are immediately evident. Likewise the playing here by the Budapest Symphony Orchestra MÁV replicates that on the earlier volumes – alert and nimbly skilled even if the actual recorded sound is a little flatter and brighter than ideal. For a composer in their eighties this is an entertainingly sprightly and energetic work with – as liner writer Frank K. DeWald suggests – more than a hint of Lizst’s Magyar spirit.
More impressive as a piece of absolute music is the Suite for Horn Strings and Percussion written just three years earlier. Here the impetus was provided by meeting the great Barry Tuckwell, an encounter that soon developed into a personal and professional friendship. This suite was a direct consequence and it is a work that reflects Tuckwell’s famed fearless virtuosity as well as control of long lyrical lines. The work is in five fairly brief contrasted movements – the closing Rondo-Finale at 4:54 is the longest part of this 17:11 work. Here the solo part is played by the current principal horn of the Budapest Festival Orchestra Zoltán Szőke. He plays splendidly and the vivid quite close recording captures his sound very well.
Zádor is often referred to as a “great orchestrator” with his handling of large and varied orchestral forces cited. I would argue that a truly great orchestrator shows their worth when working with a more limited instrumental palette. So it proves with this Suite. Zádor’s use of the percussion is quite subtle and colouristic. The musical vocabulary is resolutely tonal but with often angular melodies and sharp harmony – again there is a distinctly Hungarian flavour to many of the themes. Tuckwell clearly thought highly of the work but was not able to programme the work before the composer’s death. Tuckwell wrote to the composer’s widow lamenting the fact that promoters wanted Mozart or Strauss to the near-exclusion of any other solo horn works. That is undoubtedly true to this day and is frankly the wider listening public’s loss because this is an attractive, far from daunting work. I suspect it is fairly daunting for the soloist but Szőke is genuinely excellent. As he is in the little miniature that follows. This was a brief work for horn and piano Zádor wrote for Tuckwell when he became a father. To fit the programme conductor Mariusz Smolij has arranged this Lullaby sensitively and effectively for horn and strings and it makes another instantly attractive and appealing work.
As mentioned previously the Kammerkonzert dates from 1931 when Zádor was still living and teaching in Vienna. DeWald’s neat description is spot-on; “a personal blend of neo-Classicism and neo-Romanticism, expert orchestration, rhythmic verve, and a dedication to tonality liberally peppered with (mostly) gentle dissonance”. To that I would add that is the least ‘nationalistic’/Hungarian-tinged work on this disc. You can imagine the composer being in the hotbed of Germanic culture soaking up influences and inspirations from all the new music around him. Certainly there is more than a whiff of Hindemith or even Zemlinsky in his later more austere style. That said this Zádor score is more good-natured than the latter. The instrumentation is kept to strings plus a piano and pair of horns. The latter instruments are given opportunities to shine within the work but by no means is this a concerto. Again this is a well-proportioned three movement work running to 16:28 with a rather sensual central Andante surrounded by an bustling Allegro molto and a closing energetic Sehr lebhaft. The performance is confident and secure and certainly this is score that deserves to be better known and should sit alongside similar neo-classical scores by Martinů.
Comparisons with other composers plagued the 1966 Suite for 8 Celli – the commissioner of this work Jerome Kessler is quote in the liner saying that if a work for this line-up was not by Villa-Lobos then publishers were not interested. So much so that despite the successful premiere by Kesslet and his Los Angeles-based “I Cellisti” which was also broadcast, Zádor shelved the work and reused material from it in later scores. Hopefully that position is now rectified as this is another score of considerable skill, appeal and obvious musicianship. Another compact and well-constructed piece, here the four movements run for just 16:55. The sequence of the movements suggests that Zádor might have called this a miniature symphony with the outer Allegretto-vivo and Moderato-allegro movements framing a Molto tranquillo and Alla zingaresca. But perhaps Zádor felt the more unassuming title of “suite” would be less controversial. Whatever the truth this is another score to demonstrate that skill as an orchestrator is shown by how you handle a lack of instruments rather than a vast array. As the movement titles indicate there is variety in the type of music each movement contains but Zádor emphasises this by inventive varying of the textures, combination of solo and accompanying lines and various string-techniques. The result is that the listener is never aware or concerned by the superficial lack of timbral variety. The eight players here are uncredited but I assume they are the cello section of the main orchestra and they do a very fine job. Perhaps the closeness of the recording and the lack of glamour in the acoustic makes for an occasionally harsh sound but the flip side of that is a vibrant and dynamic performance. Surely this work would be welcomed by any cello group looking for interesting and rewarding repertoire that was not Villa-Lobos but sounds eminently playable.
The disc is completed by an appealing occasional work – the 1968 Celebration Music. This takes on a rather cinematic quasi heroic character – the composer himself described it as “simple but colourful”. One novelty is the placement of the three orchestral trumpets being answered by another three placed in the auditorium’s balcony supported by antiphonal side-drums. The recording here although well-played by all the orchestra rather diminishes this piece of musical-theatre with little audible separation between these instruments. Musically this score has less of a Hungarian accent being more in style of Hollywood epics along the line of John Williams’ Olympic Fanfare. Indeed at the point the snare-drums join the shades of Ben Hur and the Parade of the Charioteers is pretty close.
Collectors who have been enjoying this series of discs to date can buy with confidence knowing that the qualities of music and performance are maintained in this seventh volume. In many ways I have enjoyed this more than some of the earlier ones simply because I think Zádor writes best on a relatively modest scale using relatively limited instrumental resources. So while the two larger occasional works are effective – and do not outstay their welcome – the greatest musical interest lies with the chamber-scaled works at the heart of this disc. Very worthwhile world premiere recordings.
Nick Barnard
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