Beneath the Surface - Panufnik centenary: Symphony no.6 (Sinfonia Mistica)

Introduction

'The title Sinfonia mistica reflects my deep fascination with the mystery and beauty of geometry', writes Panufnik, 'referring in this composition specifically to one figure which for me personally is a symbol of universal order and inner harmony.' His inspiration was not just geometrical, however. 'I wanted to convey to listeners some spiritual content, some contemplative and hidden messages by means of a meticulously structured framework, thought which I was trying to transcend the existing methods of composition.

The number SIX looms large everywhere – detailed in this entry on the Boosey & Hawkes website but there are no devilish connections, as far as we know. In the booklet notes to a fine new recording from the Polish Radio Symphony Orchestra and Lukasz Borowicz for CPO, Christoph Schlüren writes that Panufnik's account of the Sinfonia mistica's underlying structural principles 'reveals the composer entirely in his element, poised like a hermit between a medieval profession of faith and modern science'.

Panufnik completed the symphony in 1977, scoring it for a smaller orchestra of strings, double woodwind and two horns. Commissioned by the Northern Sinfonia, it was performed for the first time at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, London, in January 1978.

Verdict

Because of its geometric near-obsession, it is again difficult to separate the Sinfonia Mistica from the complicated reasoning behind its construction – so I found the best solution was to cast that aside and listen to the music.

Interestingly each of the six sections has tempo indications that begin with the word 'molto', which implies this will be a work of extremes. Sure enough, after a relatively serene introductory passage, the lower strings herald the start of something much more fractious, with repeated notes flung around the orchestra. This cuts to a slow and desolate section, before another set of repeated figures – this time three notes instead of two – is passed around the orchestra in staccato fashion. In fact the contrast between the sections becomes greater, so that the muffled fifth section is blown out of the water by a brightly scored finale, where again short staccato figures are the order of the day.

There is more rhythmic interest than melodic in this work, and because of that and the geometrical near-obsession, this is not the most immediately successful of Panufnik's symphonies – until you get to the end, where a forceful figure from the violins ensures an emphatic and extremely satisfying finish.

Recordings and Spotify link

The Sinfonia mistica is available in a recording from the Polish Radio Symphony Orchestra and Lukasz Borowicz - in vivid digital sound on CPO and on Spotify here

Next up: Metasinfonia

Beneath the Surface - Panufnik centenary: Symphony no.5 (Sinfonia di Sfere)

Introduction

Panufnik's symphonic output now has an explicit preoccupation with geometry – and for the Sinfonia di sfere of 1975 the composer drew a figure of the overall design, reproduced with thanks to his publisher Boosey & Hawkes:

If that looks remarkably complex, Panufnik offers a written explanation in addition. 'The title has no connection,' he says, 'with the philosophy of Pythagoras ("music of the spheres"), nor with astrology (unlike the planets which inspired Gustav Holst)' Instead, Sinfonia di sfere uses spheres of 'contemplative thoughts and emotions', or spheres that act as a framework 'enclosing meticulously organised musical material'. This was to become a preoccupation in further symphonic works, the need for a higher form of structure and organisation – and in this case, the hope that 'the listener might perhaps experience a kind of ascent into spheres of contemplative thoughts and feelings'.

Verdict

It is helpful to follow the diagram when listening to the Sinfonia di sfere, as I found it a more difficult work to listen to without it. For this is probably Panufnik's most experimental symphony, despite its seemingly rigorous structural control.

It is by some distance his most percussive, for the 'orchestral sphere' allows for 12 untuned drums to the orchestra, four to each player. In addition it contains solo roles for trumpet, horn, trombone and tuba. The percussive element is an eye-opener, because the massive rolling drums dominate the second, fifth and last of the nine sections. This in turn inspires the strings to drive forward purposefully, and the music has great momentum here.

Yet when the tempo subsides the mood is quite acerbic, as it is at the start, reprising some of the more awkward and fractious moments of the Sinfonia Sacra. This leads to a longer trombone solo that has quite a mournful tone. The third section is downbeat too, with the tuba to the fore.

In all truth this is the symphony I have struggled with the most so far, not on account of its form but its relative lack of motifs and melodies that are easy for the listener to cling on to. The Sinfonia di sfere is exciting for sure, but ultimately less satisfying.

Recordings and Spotify link

My references for the Sinfonia di sfere were two recordings - the Tampere Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by John Storgårds on the Ondine label, and the Polish Radio Symphony Orchestra under Lukasz Borowicz, part of the new CPO series. Both are excellent, though the Ondine version shades it just for the excellent recorded sound.

Next up: Sinfonia mistica

Beneath the Surface - Panufnik centenary: Sinfonia Concertante (Symphony no.4)

Introduction

The Sinfonia Concertante – which bears the alternative title of Symphony no.4 – represented Panufnik's return to the symphony in 1973 after a gap of 10 years. It is on the same scale as the Sinfonia Sacra, but the two works are chalk and cheese – where that work was bold, brassy and full of big orchestral writing, the scoring for the Sinfonia Concertante is for the more subtle combination of flute, harp and strings.

In a note for the piece Panufnik details how he composed the work 'as a token to my wife in the tenth year of our marriage'. He goes on to describe how 'the two movements have many directly contrasting characteristics'. Some of these are between slow and fast, lyrical elements and dance-like elements, symmetry and asymmetry – and show the beginnings of Panufnik's preoccupation with geometry as the inspiration for his symphonic works. A diagram of the work can be found on the composer’s dedicated website.

Despite the structural concerns, Panufnik stresses that the aim of the work is a lyrical one – no doubt with his wife in mind.

Verdict

For me the Sinfonia Concertante is a feminine complement to the masculinity of the Sinfonia Sacra, with silvery string textures that complement the delicate sounds of the flute and harp. This does not make it comfortable music, however, for on occasion the string orchestra signal a sense of dread, particularly in the early nocturnal exchanges, which give a sense of something waiting in the wings, especially when the movement subsides to flute and low harp alone.

The second movement releases this pent-up energy, a lone double bass driving forward urgently, followed soon after by the rest of the strings. It remains restless, despite the calming tones of flute and harp, as a solo violin is allowed a reckless improvisation. The third movement settles down to a less troubled existence, with some nice shading through harp tremolo and calm strings.

This is an unusual piece...but a subtly affecting one that alternates between sounding genuinely creepy or having a nice silvery tone. It is distinctive in Panufnik's symphonic output.

Recordings and Spotify link

Flautist Lukasz Dlugosz and harpist Anna Sikorzak-Olek revel in Panufnik's unusual textures, and are beautifully balanced with the Polish Radio Symphony Orchestra under Lukasz Borowicz. This is part of a disc on CPO that includes the Sinfonia Rustica, plus the important orchestral pieces Polonia and Lullaby. Yet a starry cast conducted by Panufnik himself is difficult to ignore, with soloists Aurèle Nicolet and Osian Ellis. This recording can be accessed on Spotify here

Next up: Sinfonia di Sfere

Beneath the Surface - Panufnik centenary: Symphony no.3 (Sinfonia Sacra)

Background
In the early 1960s the estranged Polish composer Andrezj Panufnik went to the United States, to explore possibilities as a conductor as well as a composer. While there he received plenty of support from Leopold Stokowski, but did not get much conducting work. However he did receive a significant commission, to write a work in celebration of 1,000 years of statehood for Poland, due to be marked in 1966.

And so Sinfonia Sacra, the composer's third symphony, was born. Bernard Jacobson's engaging study of the composer as part of a Phaidon book, A Polish Renaissance, goes on to detail how, in tribute to Poland's rich cultural and Catholic tradition, 'it would incorporate the melody of the Bogurodzica hymn that had struck his imagination so forcibly in 1936'.

In May 1962, Panufnik's circumstances were improving, with marriage to Camilla and the prospect of a new house, when it was announced that the Sinfonia Sacra - had won a competition sponsored by Prince Rainier of Monaco.

Thoughts

Although the Sinfonia Rustica and Elegiaca are very enjoyable pieces of music to listen to, there is a noticeable tightening of the screw in the Sinfonia Sacra, confirmation that Panufnik has honed his symphonic credentials to write a lean structure where not a single note is wasted.

The piece captures the listener immediately, with a bold and uplifting fanfare that eventually resolves into pure C major. So far, so good – but then instead of continuing in celebratory vein Panufnik reveals the opening material to be a rather empty gesture, as the strings paint the picture of a barren wasteland.

It takes a while for the music to recover from this desolation, as it moves into an angry and resentful music that is high on energy but feeling in need of consolation. This arrives in the form of the hymn tune, gathering power towards the profound final pages. Here there is a huge sense of courage and strength in depth, the music moving between brief glimpses of consonance and peace and then back to discord, giving an indication of pain that won’t entirely go away – but which for now lies vanquished.

The Sinfonia Sacra is a powerful experience, a triumph of the human spirit over what Panufnik terms an 'invocation of the battle fields', which can be taken to mean the horrors of persecution and war. Its victory is hard won, but is all the more dramatic for it.

Recordings and Spotify Link

Panufnik's own recording, with the Monte Carlo Opera Orchestra, can be heard on an album here, with the Sinfonia Rustica and Sinfonia concertante. There are a number of other versions, though a particularly fine and recent account is made by Lukasz Borowicz, conducting the Konzerthausorchester Berlin on CPO here

Next up: Sinfonia concertante (Symphony no.4

Beneath the Surface - Panufnik centenary: Symphony no.2 (Sinfonia Elegiaca

Background

Panufnik's first published symphony, the Sinfonia Rustica, celebrated Poland through interpolations of folk tunes. The second, however, is the chalk to its cheese. Sinfonia Elegiaca reflects its composer's experiences in Poland in the Second World War.

'Tragic indeed was the fate of Warsaw', he wrote – 'in 1943, the Nazi destruction of the Ghetto, and in 1944 the Warsaw Uprising, when the Russian Army, right close to the city gates, passively watched the Germans systematically flattening almost the whole of Warsaw, killing over a quarter of a million defenceless Polish men, women and children. During this uprising I lost my Tragic Overture together with every note of music I had ever composed in my first thirty years of life'.

Then, under pressure from above, Panufnik was urged to write a 'Symphony of Peace'. This he completed, but the music was anything but peaceful – and while well received by the public, the authorities were far less certain.
After Leopold Stokowski conducted it in America in 1955, Panufnik rethought the work, turning it into what is now known as Sinfonia Elegiaca, and removing its vocal lines, casting it as a long slow movement with a fast central scherzo.

Christoph Schlüren's booklet notes for a new recording of the piece by the Konzerthausorchester Berlin and Lukasz Borowicz, on CPO, go into much greater detail on Panufnik’s feelings on the piece. 'It has no literary programme, but emotionally it expresses sorrow for the victims of the war, then protest against inhumanity, madness and violence – coming back to the lament for the dead and the bereaved – thus emphasising that their agonising sacrifice brought neither peace to the world nor full freedom to countries such as my native Poland.'

In his biographical chapter on Panufnik in the rewarding Phaidon book A Polish Renaissance, Bernard Jacobson questions the attributes of the finalised piece. 'Eloquent and accomplished though it is, the Sinfonia Elegiaca of January 1957 must also be regarded as in some ways a work of less than complete maturity. Neither here nor in Sinfonia Rustica does the composer achieve or aim for the range of poetic evocation already covered in 1947 by both Nocturne and Lullaby (the latter a daringly original work).'

Thoughts

There is certainly no shortage of feeling in the Sinfonia Elegiaca, whatever its perceived shortcomings. The opening pages are cold indeed, with the strings literally raising the music from the ground as it moves slowly and gradually upwards.

Then there is an aching cor anglais solo, the same instrument used by Shostakovich to convey pain in his own 'war symphony', the Eighth. Here it shows the pain and sorrow Panufnik clearly feels for his native country. Meanwhile the strings' slow chords seems to take their lead from the chorale O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden, which J.S.Bach uses at the start of the St Matthew Passion, though its arrangement and harmonies are much less sonorous.

The profound first movement cuts suddenly to an explosion of anger and resilience in the second section, which is effectively the scherzo of the symphony – though there is very little in the way of humour here. Instead there are shrill brass, volleys of percussion and a more folksy melody from the strings, which does at least supply some hope.
Yet soon this much more energetic music peters out, and we are left once again with the sombre mood of the opening, Panufnik unable to shift his mood and the feeling that the war and the uprising have led to little more than huge, devastating loss.

Verdict

Because of its subject the symphony leaves an empty feeling at the end, but it does so having delivered some very powerful music. The first movement, which is effectively a prayer to the lost, is extremely moving, and although the sudden change of mood is a shock it is entirely in keeping with the swift changes of feelings that so often mark the experience of bereavement. So while Panufnik's symphonic thoughts are still a little ragged, they are strong and meaningful.

Recordings and Spotify link

The new recording from Borowicz certainly does the Sinfonia Elegiaca justice, and is much better played and recorded than the composer's own version with the Louisville Orchestra, though this perhaps not surprisingly shows even keener emotion. The chosen speeds are different, too – Borowicz is much slower in the outer movements and quicker in the middle, heightening the contrast between them.

Panufnik's own recording can be heard on Spotify here

Next up: Sinfonia Sacra

Beneath the Surface - Panufnik centenary: Symphony no.1 (Sinfonia Rustica)

Introduction

This year marks the centenary of the birth of Andrezj Panufnik, the Polish composer who spent the majority of his life in England, where he died aged 77. Even for a composer his story is a remarkable one, a tale of great strength in adversity and a musical career that somehow flourished in the shape of war and deep suspicion.

Once in this country, Panufnik was encouraged by Vaughan Williams and Arthur Benjamin, both of whom supported him when in financial need, and also by Leopold Stokowski, who gave American premieres of a number of his orchestral works. When considering his achievements, Panufnik's profile is still relatively low in spite of the admirable efforts of his daughter, the composer Roxanna Panufnik, who has honoured her father’s work not just in words but in music also.

Background to the Sinfonia Rustica

Ever since the mid-1990s, when I first heard the Old Polish Suite , one of several works in which Panufnik pays homage to the land of his birth, I have wanted to explore more of his music – and am taking the chance in the form of his unconventional symphonic cycle, where works tend to be named rather than numbered. The first published symphony that survives to this day is the Sinfonia Rustica, coming in the wake of two scores that were either lost (Symphony no.2) or lost, reconstructed and then destroyed (Symphony no.1). Even the Rustica was revised itself, in 1955 – long after its world premiere in Warsaw, 1949.

Boosey & Hawkes, who publish Panufnik's work, detail how the piece 'was condemned politically as 'alien to the great socialist era', and the Polish Minister in the presence of the General Secretary of the Soviet Composers' Union supposed himself to be pronouncing the 'final verdict' when he said ‘this work has ceased to exist'!'

Happily that is not the case – and I've been using as my guide a new recording of the work from Lukasz Borowicz and the Polish Radio Symphony Orchestra, released by the German record label CPO. Panufnik himself also recorded the symphony with the Monte Carlo Opera Orchestra, in a version available on EMI.

Sinfonia Rustica won First Prize in the 1949 Chopin Competition in Warsaw, and the composer's dedicated website has a quote from Panufnik himself on the creative process. "I was always attracted to the rustic art of Poland, especially the intricate, colourful paper-cuts, worked through the long winter evenings by the imaginative and dexterous Polish peasants. These paper-cuts were usually semi-abstract, with symmetrical designs incorporating flowers, trees, animals, even sometimes people and country scenes. Using fragments of Polish folk themes as a basis for the material, I decided to compose a large-scale work in which I could transform these primitive, naive elements into music."

Panufnik divides the strings into two orchestras, one either side of the stereo picture, with winds placed in the middle and brass at the rear. The running time for the Sinfonia Rustica is just shy of half an hour.

Thoughts

Panufnik's first lasting symphonic statement is a curious combination of styles that has a strong melodic thread running all the way through it – and the fragments of Polish folk themes are difficult to shake off after a few listens! These are held in a framework where the music calls in elements of Gershwin, Stravinsky and Hindemith, but it does not feel derivative in spite of those references. Rather its invigorating spirit finds room for jazzy elements too, with excitable whoops from the horns and punchy riffs from the bass strings as the fourth movement builds up a head of steam.

There is however a sensitive underbelly to this piece, and the second movement's autumnal feel carries through to swooning violins in the third movement, both exotic and strangely sad. One melody in particular tugs at the heartstrings when heard on cor anglais.

Verdict

Although the Sinfonia Rustica feels a little underdeveloped in terms of form and design, there is plenty to enjoy here, with emotional twists and turns, memorable melodies and fresh orchestration. It is an auspicious start to the cycle!

Spotify

Sinfonia Rustica can be heard in Panufnik's own version here. Lukasz Borowicz achieves perhaps even greater freedom in his own recording, taking slightly longer in the last two movements, while he also includes the first version of the third movement.

Next up: Sinfonia Elegiaca (1957, rev.1966)

A tribute to Frans Brüggen

Even when taking into account the departures of some incredibly high profile names from the creative world this week – Robin Williams and Lauren Bacall in particular – classical music is still having a rough time of it. Claudio Abbado, Peter Sculthorpe and Lorin Maazel are just three of highly respected artists who have recently departed, and to that list can sadly be added the name of Frans Brüggen, whose death at the age of 79 was revealed yesterday.

We can be grateful this quartet lived long and extremely fruitful lives, but I wanted to focus on Brüggen this time as I absolutely love his recordings. In fact I hold him pretty much responsible for helping my initial aversion to what we awkwardly term 'period instrument' recordings, and I think he brought so much character to his interpretations he made me realise it was possible to use instruments of the time, with the sound to which we were unaccustomed, and still build cultured and individual interpretations.

The first disc of his I remember hearing was Rameau – a sparkling and colourful account of the suite Les Indes Galantes. Yet the one that made even more impact was a Philips disc bringing together middle period Mozart symphonies – the celebrated Symphony no.29 in A major, K201 and the much less known – but equally inspired – Symphony no.33 in B flat major, K319. Brüggen and his charges, the Orchestra of the Eighteenth Century, bring a freshness to this piece, but importantly for me the orchestra still pack enough heft in the bigger chords, together with a string sound that is positively luxurious for a period band.

This is only the tip of the iceberg where Brüggen is concerned, however. With his orchestra he completed a very fine cycle of Beethoven symphonies, which Universal are helpfully making available again this month, as well as an extremely enjoyable Schubert canon, featuring among other things a Symphony no.5 in B flat major that preserves the composer's fresh inspiration.

This is before we even get to his Haydn – for it's this area of Brüggen's output that appeals to me most. To me he understands Haydn's wit and good humour, but also his craft, and there is always an elegance to Brüggen's interpretations that makes the next note in each phrase so inevitable. In Haydn that helps an awful lot – and yet the surprise element of some of the symphonies is also retained. Brüggen’s music making in the London and Paris symphonies in particular has given hours of pleasure, and I would urge you to listen if you haven't before.
And how could I almost have forgotten his Rameau? Two discs leap out at me that Brüggen recorded for Philips – the highly characterful live recording of the suite for Les indes galantes, and an equally invigorating version of a suite from the opera Dardanus.

Even before his successes as a conductor Brüggen had shown unusual ability as a flautist and recorder player. In the 1960s he recorded a sizeable amount of Baroque music for Teldec's Das Alte Werk imprint, producing some ground breaking discs of Telemann, J.S. Bach and Handel – as well as exploring some of the lesser known corners of Baroque chamber repertoire.

Even in the last years of his life, when he clearly wasn't as sprightly as he used to be, Brüggen continued to conduct from a seating position – which was the case on the only occasion I encountered him in concert, where he and his guest charges, the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, gave a typically inspiring performance of Mozart's Paris symphony.

Despite his less than ideal health, Brüggen continued to record to great effect, with recent releases bringing Mendelssohn's Italian and Scottish symphonies to life, not to mention another visit to Mozart's last three works in the form. There is quite literally never a dull note in Brüggen's recorded work – and it deserves to live on long after the sad passing of its creator.

A Frans Brüggen miscellany be found on Spotify by clicking here , including Les Indes Galantes, Beethoven's Eroica symphony, a fantasia by Telemann and symphonies by Schubert (no.5), Haydn (no.102) and Mozart (no.39).