Gregory Fritze (b. 1954)
Overtures and Symphonies
London Overture (2022)
A Day in Valencia (I. Sunrise over the Mediterranean; II. Workday; III. An Early Evening Walk; IV. Late Night at a Fiesta) (2022)
Waterplace Park (2017)
Sinfonía de Valencia (I. Los castillos; II. La Tomatina; III. Pastorale y las montañas) (2023)
London Symphony Orchestra/Rafael Sanz-Espert
rec. 2024, LSO St Luke’s, London
Naxos 8.559964 [76]

Going by the work-titles, I decided that there was going to be something decidedly old-fashioned about this latest entry in Naxos’s long-running American Classics series. Until I read the composer-written documentation for the disc I lazily took this for a travelogue ‘splurge’ by Massenet, Moszkowski, Françaix or Ibert. It could also have been a British light music confection from the excellent Heritage or Cameo labels. Not so … and yet …. In fact this is predominantly classy stuff: tunefully light and brilliant … and it’s by a living composer. What we hear is two named multi-movement ‘postcard’ symphonies, both associated with the Spanish city of Valencia, and two other ‘souvenirs’. The earliest piece here dates from 2017. The four pieces are played and recorded with nothing held back.

Standing alone, if only geographically, we step out with London Overture. This is all you might expect: rowdy and sparkling bustle. It’s all a bit episodic but those episodes do no violence to the listener’s enjoyment. It’s a shade repetitive but this is well-crafted smiling music bound to make a good impression.

The first of the two “Valencia Symphonies” is a twenty-minute four-movement sequence called A Day in Valencia. Sunrise over the Mediterranean floats a sun-dispensing dazzle. It ‘breathes’ the sort of birdsong we hear in Rautavaara’s Cantus Arcticus and ends in glowing, velvety warmth akin to the horn-lofted climax of Nielsen’s Helios. Workday is a character piece where grandeur and urgency meet. There is a touch of Bernard Herrmann’s cornfield in North by Northwest, a slinky violin solo and a decelerating carousel figure. Inventive stuff. The next movement, An Early Evening Walk, introduces you to a sauntering and romantically-inclined tuba. Proceedings conclude with Late Night at a Fiesta. This manages to be both playful and angular; think Malcolm Arnold, Gordon Jacob, Lutyens or Maconchy in light music mode.

Before we get to the second Valencia piece we encounter what is, in effect, another concert overture: Waterplace Park. This park is “a popular meeting place in Providence, Rhode Island”. Slightly longer than the London Overture, it is cut from similar cloth. In its nine-minute compass it has display roles for marimba, bass clarinet, bass trombone, piccolo and timpani. There’s not much development but that’s not the point. Nor is there much complexity. This is not from the same style sheet as the orchestral overtures by Francis Chagrin or Alan Rawsthorne. Even so, there is entertainment aplenty and a sort of “cartoon action” that can be both flamboyant and touching: think in terms of Matyas Seiber’s wonderful score for Hanna-Barbera’s Animal Farm animation (1951-54). The piece builds to a final explosion of brightly flaring energy.

This Fritze disc concludes with the half-hour-long Sinfonía de Valencia. It is the most original of the works here and mildly challenging. The composer had lived for some years in a village not far from the city. The two symphonies are indebted to those years and to the memories he garnered there. This is the most emotionally turbulent and musically testing of the four works here. This is not to say that it is ‘hard’ work; its language is nowhere near as confrontational as Ferneyhough or even the Alwyn of the 1960s. The whirlingly gaunt and dark brilliance of Los castillos again evinces well-fashioned orchestration. It carries the conviction of a merciless history. La Tomatina refers to one of the City’s festivals. It is active from the get-go: rhythmically insistent, with interpolated contrastingly gaunt cutaways. After a moment of exhausted silence the movement ends with a flamboyant gesture. Pastorale y las montañas starts with music that has a gentle hesitant ‘vibe’ to reflect the pastoral element. The second aspect is impressively heroic-epic and this aspect is articulated by a long-spun line for the violins. The symphony ends with abundant percussion, brassy brilliance, an arrogant strut and an extrovert growl.

This project is attentively served by the engineers and by the orchestra. This, after all, is the LSO and there is much in the way of extrovert solo work. The sound is pitched at a commanding level and the results all round successfully tread that line between refinement and brilliance. The liner notes are by the composer. They set the scene and context.

It won’t come as any surprise that these are all world premiere recordings.

Rob Barnett

Other review: Gary Higginson

Buying this recording via the link below generates revenue for MWI, which helps the site remain free