It took almost 100 years for Charles Koechlin's First Symphony to get a proper recording and over a year for Ariane Matiakh to prepare the material. After her highly praised recording of Koechlin's Seven Stars Symphony (C5449), this is a much-appreciated further foray into the largely unexplored symphonic world of this fascinating composer, a French Chameleon of sorts, who felt comfortable anywhere between Bachian counterpoint and the heights of French impressionism. The earlier Au loin, Poeme symphonique and 3 Melodies (orchestrated posthumously) round out the scintillating picture.

KOECHLIN: Chamber Music with Flute

One of the nicest organ recordings I’ve heard.

I’ve been aware of Charles Koechlin for a very long time, having played flute pieces of his for almost as long as I can remember. It’s only relatively recently however that his name seems to have been cropping up more in the CD catalogues, with fascinating and remarkable works such as the piano cycle Les Heures Persanes showing previously little known aspects of the composer. Organist Christian Schmitt has here recorded a representative sample of organ works by Koechlin, and as many of these are première recordings this disc will add considerably to our supply of Koechlinalea.

Koechlin himself was more of a pianist than an organist, and the conventional nature of earlier works such as the Choral in F minor develops into further extremes of contrapuntal extremity as evidenced by the later opus numbered Choral Final du Requiem, which pushes canonic techniques into a labyrinthine elegy. If you like Hindemith’s organ sonatas, then the three Sonatines which Koechlin wrote during 1928-29 occupy comparable melodic and harmonic territory. Koechlin’s fascination and deep study of Bach comes through strongly in the Finale of Sonatine III, and the first and second of these pieces contrast with the rest of the programme in also having lighter Pastorale movements. There is also a good deal of melodic charm in the Quatre Chorals, produced as a by-product of the composer’s own composition classes.

This programme contains what is apparently Koechlin’s last work, the eccentric Pièce pour orgue, Op. 226, which shows the composer exploring the essence of his own expressive palette in what the booklet notes describe as “sketchy textures.” More monumental is the extended Fugue Op.133 II originally written for “a symphonic string apparatus”, and with seemingly impossible chromatic lines. More gentle and improvisatory is the Adagio pour Grand-orgue Op.201, which nonetheless builds a remarkable structure in which one can become totally immersed.

The recently rebuilt 1950s Marktkirche organ is a tremendous instrument, and very well suited to this music. A more nasal French sound might arguably be more appropriate, but whether consciously or not the organ sound here points to the universality of Koechlin’s expressive world and to my ears is both appropriate and highly enjoyable. The CPO recording is very rich and deep even in plain stereo. As an SACD multi-channel experience it really is of demonstration quality. This is one of those inspiring releases which anyone keen on organ music and 20 ^th century repertoire should have around. The organ music of Charles Koechlin should hold no fears for anyone attracted by the romantic worlds of Widor and Duruflé, and indeed it often harks back to more ancient worlds in its sometimes antique style and use of the models of Bach. This organ sound is woodsmoke and nostalgia to me, and has restored my faith in its qualities as a truly expressive instrument. Superbly performed and produced with useful booklet notes, it is one of the nicest organ recordings I’ve heard for a long time.

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

KOECHLIN: Buisson Ardent (Le) / Sur Les Flots Lointains

As an old man Charles Koechlin wrote: "One of the most dreadful diseases of our day is the desire to be modern", but he was no starchy conservative. Far from it, in fact - Koechlin counted among his friends virtually all the leading French musicians of his day, old and young, adventurous and less so, and acknowledged and even assimilated all the trends. He was a big fan of the burgeoning Hollywood film industry - witness the many works or movements named after popular actresses - and became president of the Popular Music Federation in France.

He also wrote a fair bit for Adolphe Sax's recently-invented instrument, praising it in his academic writing as "a timbre that no other can replace". All such solo works in his corpus are brought together on this new bargain-priced triple CD from Brilliant Classics, one of a wave of recent releases featuring this most underrated of French composers' music.

In fact, although this set has much to recommend it musically, it is not quite the bargain it might have been. For one thing, there is a fair amount of 'recycling', from the piano and chamber orchestra versions of the two saxophone sonatinas to the Sept Pièces, originally intended for horn. More importantly, though, the array of recording dates and venues has thrown up some inconsistencies in sound quality. There is actually quite severe distortion towards the end of the Wind Septet, where the microphones just cannot cope with a combination of volume and high pitches. There is similar loss at the end of op.165bis, and a small amount in the flute during Epitaphe. Timpani's engineers, on their virtually simultaneous recording of the Septet (1C1193), show Brilliant how it should be done.

On the whole, however, considering that this release can be found on the internet, by the alert shopper, for around the same price as a single Naxos disc, these audio issues, once noted, may be worth disregarding for access to Koechlin's marvellous music, certainly until new recordings come along. After all, the aforementioned distortion only affects a few minutes' worth of music, and sound quality of the first two CDs is uniformly impressive. Capturing well both saxophone and piano is no simple task.

In any case, it is hard to imagine anyone not liking Koechlin's music, whether for saxophone or any other instruments: all of the late-period pieces heard here are immensely melodic and idiomatic, uncomplicated on the surface yet expressive of a considered intelligence that writes for listeners and performers as well as self. In this way he can be compared with Saint-Saëns, to whom he came to bear a physical likeness in later years - though with a much more impressive beard.

There are many highlights, such as the 24 Duos, which combine SATB instruments in various pairings. These should be required study for all saxophonists, yet they are far superior to mere didactics. Ditto the 15 Etudes, which are a collection of beautiful cameos rather than studies in the more academic sense. The 7 Pieces are even more strikingly memorable, like Koechlin's most popular Epitaphe: nostalgic, sometimes haunting works that are however "full of the visionary hope that leads to optimism, energy and joy as vital antidotes to the problems of everyday life", as annotator Robert Orledge aptly sums up the composer's music. It is worth noting that, unlike some, nowhere in any of these works does Koechlin make use of the platitudes and clichés of the jazz instrument.

As the CD cover implies, star of the show on these three discs is saxophonist David Brutti, who appears as soloist, as one half of the Duo Disecheis, a quarter of the Atem Saxophone Quartet and even in the ensemble of the Orchestra Città Aperta. His tonal colourings are lustrous and luxurious, his phrasing natural and gratifying. Running a close second is Filippo Farinelli, pianist or conductor on numerous tracks. The booklet notes are in English only, but informative and well written, supplemented by detailed biographies of all performers.

Of Koechlin - whose Alsace-originating name is pronounced as if spelt Kéclin (rhyming with French 'né' and nasal 'vin') - British critic Wilfrid Mellers wrote that he counts "among the very select number of contemporary composers who really matter". For 1942 this was a particularly prescient remark, and it is high time he was allowed to take his rightful place in the pantheon alongside Fauré, Debussy, Ravel and Saint-Saëns.

– Byzantion, MusicWeb International

"Nectaire raised his flute to his lips, a simple wooden pipe that he could have made himself. He began to play; strange phrases at first, then rich melodies over which trills shone like diamonds and pearls on velvet. The music was full of grace and audacity, one could hear all at once the sound of nightingales and muses; all of nature and all of mankind." The Chants de Nectaire were inspired by the wise old flute player Nectaire who appears in La Revolte des Anges by Anatole France (1914). The ninety six gems were composed by Charles Koechlin over four months in 1945. Despite the speed the quality is incredible with great attention to detail; each piece is its own unique sound world, imaginative, sensitive, beautiful and above all, sincere. Charles Koechlin (1867-1950) studied at the École Polytechnique but tuburculosis prevented him from following a military career. And so fortunately he turned to music, studying with Fauré and Massenet. He worked incredibly quickly when inspired and his output covers all genres from the vast orchestral work La Loi de la Jungle (inspired by Kipling), to choral, chamber and solo works. He favoured the flute and seemed to understand the subtleties as if he played himself. According to Koechlin, his personality was dominated by characteristics from his Alsatian roots; an energy, naivety and an absolute sincerity that lie at the heart of all his music.

The Chants de Nectaire were inspired by the wise old flute player Nectaire, who appears in La Révolte des Anges by Anatole France (1914). The ninety-six songs, all gems in their own right, are grouped into three books (Volume 1 Op. 198; Volume 2 Op. 199 & Volume 3 Op. 200) and were composed over four months in 1944. Despite the speed of creation, the quality is incredible, with great attention to detail. Each piece is its own unique sound world, imaginative, sensitive, beautiful and, above all, sincere. This first set is based on France’s novel where angels take up residence in Paris disguised as people. Nicola Woodward was awarded exhibition scholarships on both flute and piano at the Royal College of Music. She has performed at the Wigmore Hall, the Purcell Rooms, given live broadcasts on Classic FM and BBC Radio 3 and worked with the LPO and Bournemouth Orchestras.

Koechlin's inner preoccupation with the theme of light - the changes between light and dark, sun and moon, day and night, month and season - is revealed in all his creative periods and often makes it's way into the musical interpretation itself as the playing instruction, "lumineux" (luminous); this leads to a special formal synthesis in "Les Heures Persanes". This CD was awarded the "Le Diapason d'Or"- and the "Choc Musique"-Award. Herbert Henck: piano.

Classical Music

Music by the marvelous, criminally underrated composer and “Aural Alchemist” Charles Koechlin is always a discovery and invariably. “Koechlin can daub with notes as Seurat daubed with bright pigments on canvas [he] could, whenever he wished, bathe his music in the impressionist glories of Debussy and Ravel or give it the delicacy of Fauré and then toughen it up with some Roussel-like grinding rhythms.” (Robert Reilly)

Koechlin is an impressionist dreamboat. With a title like The Seven Stars Symphony (the seven are Douglas Fairbanks, Lilian Harvey, Greta Garbo, Clara Bow, Marlene Dietrich, Emil Jannings and Charlie Chaplin) and following so closely on the heels of the equally enchanting Vers la voûte étoilée (Toward the Vault of the Stars), you’d think the work was some spectacular colorist bonanza of celestial ambitions. Actually, it’s Koechlin’s ode to his favorite film characters as portrayed by these actors – but no less bewitching for it.

REVIEW:

The Basel Symphony Orchestra’s performance under Ariane Matiakh has a wonderful lithe elegance, which matches the beauty and refinement of Koechlin’s writing in every respect.

-- The Guardian (UK)

Charles Koechlin was a prolific composer with a list of works encompassing more than 200 opus numbers. His interest in film stars resulted in several compositions, the most spectacular being The Seven Stars’ Symphony written in 1933. He was a skilled orchestrator as evidenced in this work. He employs a gigantic orchestra, comprising substantially expanded woodwind and brass sections, including an alto saxophone, a large assortment of percussion, and in the third movement, an Ondes Martenot, an early electronic instrument, invented just a few years before the work was written. Stylistically there are influences from most French composers, from Berlioz and Fauré (who was his teacher) to a modernist like Messiaen. Formally it isn’t a symphony, rather an orchestral suite in seven movements, each movement a portrait of a famous actor in Hollywood at the time the suite was composed, but all of them are still well-known today. His interest in movies emanated from the then quite recent arrival of the sound film, when he saw The Blue Angel with Marlene Dietrich and Emil Jannings.

That [Lilian Harvey] was the ageing composer’s dream-girl, is clear from the second movement of the symphony: jolly and charming, light-toned music with glittering flutes creating an aura around her. It is the shortest movement, lasting just over two minutes. The contrast between Harvey and the cool and mysterious Greta Garbo is striking. This is slow, almost melancholy music, and the use of the Ondes Martenot with its eerie glissandi paints a picture of an icy Nordic princess...Clara Bow['s] movement is racy and full of life – the scherzo of the symphony, and the finale is rather boisterous, presumably illustrating the hectic stream of fan letters – in January 1929 she received 45,000 letters!

...Marlene Dietrich is still well-remembered...Her movement is slow and beautiful with a deep clarinet solo featured. It is a set of variations on a theme that is built on the letters of her name. [Emil] Jannings’ movement is dramatic and dark, and the end is gloomy. The final movement is devoted to Charlie Chaplin, and it is by far the longest, occupying more than one third of the total playing time of over forty-three minutes. Though it refers to some of his merry pranks in silent movies like Gold Fever and Circus, a surprisingly large part of the movement is contemplative and chamber-music like, transparently orchestrated.

This effort by Sinfonieorchester Basel under Ariane Matiakh fills the need [for new recordings] admirably. The playing is excellent and the recording very good. Whether the work is the masterpiece some pundits maintain is another question. Koechlin’s masterly orchestration cannot be called in question, and that is reason enough to wallow in the music...This issue is well worth getting to know.

--MusicWeb International (Göran Forsling)

Born in Lille, Édouard Lalo (1823–1892) studied the violin before leaving home for good, against his father’s will, to enter the Paris Conservatoire. Having graduated without family support, he began to make a living in the capital as an orchestral violinist and violist and as a member of the Quatuor Armingaud (from 1855), one of many such ensembles which sprang up within a culture of chamber music that was then supported by the foundation of the Société nationale de musique. Lalo’s Cello Sonata in A minor is relatively unknown, despite its obvious beauty and clear Schumannesque qualities.

Charles Koechlin (1867–1950) studied composition at the Paris Conservatoire with Jules Massenet and Fauré. He composed frequently, producing a huge opus of well over 200 works, and in a fluent style distinguished above all by its melodic invention, with supple and eloquent melodic themes. In that regard, the spirit of Fauré is never far away in the Cello Sonata Op.66 – allusive, imbued with a retrospective spirit which unfolds into a kind of accompanied recitative, quintessentially cellistic. Koechlin wrote the Sonata in October 1917 in a flurry of chamber-music activity. Gabriel Pierné (1863–1937), also an alumnus of the Paris Conservatoire, was a successful musician and won the coveted Prix de Rome in 1882. Pierné became one of the most influential musicians in Paris, more at the time through his conducting than his composing. He introduced audiences at the Concerts Colonne to countless premieres of lasting significance, and was one of the principal conductors for Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes, conducting the world premiere of Stravinsky’s Firebird.

Pierné’s single-movement Cello Sonata in F sharp minor is in a cyclical form, following the example of Franck and Liszt.

KOECHLIN Les Heures persanes • Ralph van Raat (pn) • NAXOS 8572473 (56:44)


Neither composer Charles Koechlin nor his masterpiece, translated as The Persian Hours, is nearly as well known or popular as Granados’s Goyescas or Albéniz’s Iberia, let alone the music of Debussy, so they have fallen into the category of musical oddities. (Other recordings include Kathryn Stott on Chandos 9974 and Michael Korstick on Hänssler 93246, also an orchestral version by Heinz Holliger and the Stuttgart Radio Orchestra on Hänssler 93125.) Part of the problem is that nearly all of the pieces in the suite are slow-moving, meaning that the pianist (or conductor in an orchestral version) needs to sustain not only the proper mood but also a semblance of forward momentum.


Enter pianist Ralph van Raat to the rescue. His recording of the suite, albeit slow-moving (slower, in fact, than Holliger’s orchestral recording), has such tremendous atmosphere and a sense of presence that one is seduced into Koechlin’s world and his own interpretation within the first three minutes of the recording.


Koechlin’s view of Persia (now Iran) was based on astronomical observations and a travelogue of the time rather than a first-hand trip to the area. Thus he captured a personal impression of Middle Eastern life, particularly nightlife when the stars were out and the world was still. Harmonically, he was at least as advanced as late-period Debussy, if not actually further along. Although most of these pieces tend toward a harmonically identifiable key, they skew away from it constantly; by the middle of each piece, the unobservant listener will be completely lost in regards to a harmonic base or balance. Some of them have an ostinato bass in one key, but the overlying music is in another. Indeed, it is this constant leaning away from any tonality—and the fact that the music sometimes leans in both directions at once—that gives it its unique flavor. Koechlin somehow manages to set up what sounds like a safe base but gently yet constantly pushes us away from it.


Raat’s performance, as already mentioned, is both musical and fascinating in the extreme. I do, however, question the very long pauses between each piece in the suite. After about the first 10 numbers, you’re not quite sure if each succeeding piece is the last one or not, but that’s probably a post-production decision. If you love this kind of music, this is a CD you simply cannot live without.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

KOECHLIN Chansons bretonnes, op. 115. Cello Sonata, op. 66. DEBUSSY Cello Sonata • Peter Bruns (vc); Roglit Ishay (pn) • HÄNSSLER CD 98.258 (53:11)


The tentative thumbs-up given to the Lidstrom/Forsberg tilt at Koechlin— Chansonnes Bretonnes , Books I and II, and the Cello Sonata (Hyperion 66979, Fanfare 22:1); Book III (Hyperion 67244, Fanfare 27: 2)—is a thumbs-down after hearing this new Bruns/Ishay release. With no comparisons, Lidstrom’s dragging pace and overload of clinging sensitivity presented Koechlin’s art as recondite, arcane, fragile, spaced-out, while Bruns and Ishay’s brisker pace—often by several minutes in many of these brief pieces—animates the Breton folk-song arrangements with lift, lilt, and charm. Likewise, the novel melodic/harmonic geste of the Cello Sonata leaps from the limbo of the “interesting” chez Lidstrom/Forsberg (the consolation prize one awards music of unfathomable complexity one intends never to hear again) to the desmesne of the piquantly novel, teasing us to return. Nor are Bruns and Ishay hustling the music for an easy score, but following directions—the Andante quasi Adagio of the Sonata’s middle movement, for instance, need not be a molasses-treading dirge, as it is with Lidstrom and Forsberg. The contrast puts one in mind of Schoenberg’s quip, “My music isn’t ‘Modern,’ just poorly performed.”


While Koechlin titled the folk-song collection Vingt Chansons bretonnes , Lidstrom and Forsberg have included a Marche d’Arthur which the composer omitted “due to its brevity (five bars),” Koechlin scholar Robert Orledge notes, though the performers distend this to 28 seconds. Bruns and Ishay eschew it but give us the set of 20 pieces, as Koechlin prepared it, complete on a single disc. Their Debussy Cello Sonata seems to search for a bit more than there is to find, heard after, say, Gary Hoffmann’s breezier go at it with David Golub (Delos 3167), though their performance still gives pleasure, supplying a substantial bonus. Sound is upfront and balanced, capturing every nuance with vibrant gutsiness. Orledge’s informed liner notes confect a final elegance. The performances of choice, enthusiastically recommended.


FANFARE: Adrian Corleonis

The prolific and eclectic 20th century composer Charles Koechlin is known to many as the composer of the Seven Stars Symphony and the Jungle Book. The heralded oboist Stefan Schilli together with his numerous guests presents chamber side of Koechlin with this release.

The appearance of this double CD set means that for the first time the entire Jungle Book cycle of Charles Koechlin is available on disc – and high time too, for these are wonderfully evocative pieces. If you have a taste for music which summons up a mythic world in gorgeous colours, then this disc is for you. Kipling’s Jungle Book was a lifelong obsession for Koechlin, and between 1899 and 1936 he based five orchestral pieces on it, some including voices, which together form a vast symphonic cycle. On this disc you can trace the evolution of Koechlin’s language through the cycle, from the hazy, twilight sonorities of the Three Poems, which sound like a cross between Debussy and Ives, to the more dissonant and eclectic Bandar-log. By this time Koechlin had developed a style perfectly suited to Kipling’s world, by turns hazily evocative and awesomely grand. Koechlin was a virtuoso orchestrator, and his music needs virtuoso playing to bring it off. The violins in particular are tested in some mercilessly rapid and ultra-high figuration, which in a less than accurate performance can sound scrappy. Fortunately the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra rises to the challenge well. David Zinman’s performances may not be as fiery as Leif Segerstam’s (Marco Polo), and at times he sounds a bit cautious – as for example at the beginning of The Spring Running, which sounds more like a jog. But this gives him more room to gather pace, so ultimately it’s more impressive than the rival version, which in general suffers from some uncertain playing, and in any case only offers a selection from the cycle.

-- Ivan Hewett, BBC Music Magazine