Witold Lutoslawski

* Concerto for piano and orchestra
* Partita for violin and orchestra
* Chain 2 (Dialogues for violin and orchestra)

Krystian Zimerman (piano)
Anne-Sophie Mutter (violin)
BBC Symphony Orchestra/Witold Lutoslawski.
DGG 471 588-2  TT: 60:44

Summary for the Busy Executive: Polish polish.

Bartok's influence in the Forties and Fifties grew to a great height
throughout the Soviet satellites of Eastern Europe, particularly among
the better composers.  True, one found serialists like Eisler in East
Germany and Tadeusz Baird in Poland, but they seemed exceptions, rather
than the rule.  In Poland, for example, we meet the examples of the
remarkable Grazyna Bacewicz and Witold Lutoslawski.  Lutoslawski especially
seemed to regard Bartok as Brahms did Beethoven, a spiritual father who
inspired within him both an almost stifling reverence and the need to
break free.  Although we tend to think of Lutoslawski as a monument among
post-war composers, he did change.  The early stuff owes just about
everything to Bartok.  To say this doesn't trivialize Lutoslawski.  It
takes a great composer to "do" Bartok so well.  A middle period follows,
during which Lutoslawski reacts against the older man.  The music is
almost feverishly experimental.  The work in the style we think of as
Lutoslawskian accepts Bartok's influence, if it ever comes up, but that's
not its point.  As Brahms remarked to someone who pointed out a Beethoven
reference in Brahms's first symphony, "Any fool can see that."

All the works on the CD appear relatively late in Lutoslawski's career.
This CD repackages previous tracks.  The Partita joins Chain 2 and the
Stravinsky violin concerto on DG 423696-2, while the piano concerto
brings with it Chain 3 and the Novelette on DG 431664-2.  If you have
those, don't bother with this one.

Other than that, the performances are stunning.  The BBC plays to a
fare-thee-well, while Lutoslawski does a fine job on the podium.  I won't
say I can't imagine these works done better, but the readings will not
likely be bettered for a while.  The conductor certainly knows what the
composer wants.  Zimerman and Mutter, the original soloists and dedicatees,
perform at the top of their considerable game, and, since Lutoslawski
played both the piano and the violin himself, he understands how to make
these instruments sound, even among unusual textures.

Lutoslawki's major instrument was the piano, and his catalogue is filled
with terrifically effective, even virtuoso stuff, from at least the early
(1943) Variations on a Theme of Paganini for two pianos on.  The concerto,
however, comes from 1987 (the composer died in 1994) -- so, pretty late
-- although the composer had been thinking about the work for at least
ten years previously.  The liner notes by Anthony Burton make much of
the technique of the piece, the compositional "gadgets," as it were.
The two main ones are Lutoslawski's contrast of ad libitum (music without
a strong metric pulse, like Hovhaness's "spirit murmur") and a battuta
(music with a strict pulse, something the conductor can beat) and his
notion of the "chain."  The "chain" grows out of the composer's ad libitum
music and apparently updates the baroque notion of stretto.  That is,
short strands or even sections of music, not necessarily related and not
necessarily coordinated in strict time, overlap each other.  We oohed
and aahed over these things when they were new, but fortunately the music
doesn't depend on their novelty, any more than the power of a Bach cantata
depends on its having a fugue.  I think by now listeners can "just
listen," enter Lutoslawski's emotional world, without having to worry
about the composer's technique.

We can, however, note the potential for the music, through these
techniques, to degenerate into an undifferentiated aural ooze.
Lutoslawski's great expressive and rhetorical command never allows this
to happen.  The piano concerto's opening movement glitters in a delicate
way that will remind listeners of Bartok's sonata for two pianos and
percussion (perhaps even parts of Strauss's Also sprach Zarathustra),
minus actual quotes.  Lutoslawski ensures that the tension between strict
and free rhythm remains an element of drama, rather than of technique
only.  The first movement acts as a kind of wind-up, Vaughan Williams's
"wisps of music floating about," trying to coalesce into something
purposeful.  The soloist provides the gravitational focus, accreting to
itself more and more of the orchestra.  The music sputters, pulls up its
socks, rears back, and finally, after a sustained build-up, leaps directly
into a wild toccata second movement.  Rhythm is the musical point.  For
some reason, the entire concerto has a nocturnal "feel" to it.  In the
second movement, night terrors alternate with flocks of demons fading
off into another part of the forest and the next movement.  This one,
roughly an A-B-A structure, sings like a voice in the night, sad and
meditative on what has gone on before.  Zimerman has always impressed
me with his command of keyboard color and emotional range -- not for
nothing do people like his Chopin and Debussy -- and Lutoslawski demands
not only these, but a kind of emotional maturity, which Zimerman delivers.
The third movement leads without a break to the fourth, a passacaglia
-- something I wouldn't have known, had not Burton pointed it out.  Even
so, I don't yet hear it, and, without a score, it will take me a while.
Again, however, that doesn't keep me entirely out of the music, which
rhetorically (as opposed to architecturally) seems a conflict between
strict and free rhythm, fast and slow tempi, this time in the confines
of a single movement.  Strict and fast win out, in a blazing close that
gives you as much bang for your buck as you would wish.

Lutoslawski first composed a violin-and-piano version of the Partita for
Zukerman and composer-pianist Marc Neikrug in response to a commission
from the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra.  I'm no Zukerman fan and have
difficulty imagining that he actually enjoyed playing it, given his usual
know-nothing comments on modern and contemporary music.  It doesn't
surprise me that he didn't record it.  However, Mutter so impressed
Lutoslawski with her performance of Chain 2, he orchestrated the Partita
especially for her.  The work consists of five movements, two of which
are ad libitum interludes after the first and third movements.  The three
"real" movements are based on Baroque dance forms: courante, air, and
gigue.  While hardly light music, it seems to me Lutoslawski in a
relatively relaxed mode.  It's a very attractive work.  The orchestration
is that of a master, rich and imaginative without necessarily calling
attention to itself.  The composer uses the piano as an orchestral
sonority, particularly in the first and last movements, I suspect because
he couldn't quite translate all of it into orchestra-ese.  The beauties
of this work, particularly those of a quiet section toward the end, can
just about break your heart.  Mutter has always been an elegant, patrician
player (as well as a babe), and this music suits her down to the ground.

I realize that Chain 2 counts as a major work in Lutoslawski's catalogue,
but I've never entirely warmed to it.  I admire it, as I might admire
blueprints or a well-reasoned legal brief.  However, as I continue to
listen, it sinks in a bit more -- unlike many pieces that simply increase
my antipathy and where familiarity breeds contempt.  This time around,
I found myself hooking into the fast parts of the piece.  Again, the
free-vs.-strict rhythmic dichotomy prevails.  Lutoslawski calls it a
"dialogue" rather than a concerto, and, indeed, its dedication to Paul
Sacher also suggests large-scale chamber music.  One can find that element
in the work, but one can also single out plenty of passages where the
soloist contends "heroically" with the orchestra or where the ensemble
mainly supports the soloist, as in the typical concerto.  My favorite
movement, contrary to what I've said so far, has always been the slow
third movement, passionate and demanding.  Mutter meets the emotional
requirements of the piece, without stepping into bathos.  To me, this
account also represents the best conducting and orchestral playing on
the CD.

The sound is wonderful, capturing Lutoslawski's brilliant textures and
precise balances, without crossing the line to the hokey.

Steve Schwartz