When the first three volumes of Capriccio’s ongoing hybrid, CD(2)/SACD(2/5.1) survey devoted to the film music of Russian composer Alfred Schnittke (1934–1998) became difficult to find (C71041, C71061, C71127) there was reason to believe no more would be forthcoming. But here’s another, and many may pronounce it the best yet!
As composers go, Schnittke was about as eclectic as you can get in his fondness for borrowing from the past. Consequently there was a "polystylistic" plasticity in his approach to composition that made him an ideal movie composer. As anyone who’s seen a film scored by him can tell you, there’s something chameleonic about the way the music perfectly adapts to what’s on the silver screen. This undoubtedly explains his popularity with the Soviet Union’s top directors, which resulted in his scoring over sixty films.
When heard without the benefit of a visual element, even some of the greatest scores ever written become incoherent and fail to hold the listener’s attention. Enter Frank Strobel, our conductor here, who’s assembled stand-alone suites from each of the movies included in this series. You’ll find he’s done us a great service by making some of Schnittke’s most approachable music more widely available in a condensed concert setting.
The suites on this disc are from two satirical films, The Adventures of a Dentist (1965) and Sport, Sport, Sport (1970), by Russian director Elem Klimov (1933–2003). Both immediately met with Soviet disapproval and were banned, not to reappear until shortly after Mikhail Gorbachev instituted Perestroika in 1986. The movies may have been black and white, but Schnittke’s brilliantly orchestrated scores are Technicolor.
The six-part suite from Sport…opens in jazzy fashion [track-1] with a variety of plucked as well as keyboard instruments marching along to a bongo beat. The percussive chaos that introduces the next section [track-2] turns into an elephantine promenade. It bolsters up a tune played on the electric guitar, which could be out of an Ennio Morricone (b. 1928) score for one of those Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns. The saxophone then introduces a swaggering idea, and the section ends with a percussively explosive jam session worthy of an "007" adventure.
The mood shifts dramatically in the next part [track-3], which is a delicate minuet of Latin American persuasion. But you ain’t heard nothin’ yet! The following section [track-4] is a bizarre blend of tidbits from Rimsky Korsakov’s (1844–1908) operatic suites, one of the opening themes from Tchaikovsky’s (1840–1893) fifth symphony (1888), and another popular favorite whose identity is left to you. Part five [track-5] briefly evokes the previous minuet, but then Schnittke regresses stylistically, and taking his cue from J.S. Bach (1685–1750) and Handel (1685–1759), concocts a Dixieland concerto grosso for winds, including saxophone and trumpet. The finale [track-6] is reminiscent of the suite’s opening and builds to a chaotic climax that concludes with an interrogatory chord on an Ionika electric organ.
The suite from Adventures…is in nine sections with a relaxed beginning [track-7] that recalls the title music from Maurice Jarre’s (1924–2009) score for Dr. Zhivago (1965). Then there’s a bouncy Baroque period offering [track-8] that even includes a harpsichord. Listening to the waltz that’s next [track-9], it’s easy to imagine a ballroom full of swirling hippos. A wistful episode [track-10] with flutes hovering over a walking bass drum follows, providing a contrast to a delightfully catchy "Charleston" number [track-11].
The spirit of the Baroque returns in the restful next part [track-12], while sarcasm reminiscent of that in Prokofiev’s (1891–1953) Lieutenant Kijé Suite (1934) seems to fill what follows [track-13]. The penultimate section [tracks-14] alludes to the air from J.S. Bach’s third orchestral suite (1717–23), and then this cuspidate caper ends unpretentiously with a lovely serenade for guitar and orchestra [track-15].
Incidentally, in 1972 the composer came up with a Suite in the Old Style for violin and piano whose five movements were drawn respectively from tracks 12, 8, 3, 5 and 10 above. This also exists in an orchestral version transcribed by violinist/conductor Vladimir Spivakov (b. 1944) and cellist Mikhail Milman.
Frank Strobel began arranging Schnittke’s film music into concert suites at the request of the composer, and has since been recording them for Capriccio. This, his fourth volume in what’s turned out to be an award-winning series featuring him conducting the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra, is arguably his finest to date. The performances are superb, and that’s saying a great deal, considering the variety of musicians required to play the many exotic instruments (accordion, banjo, electric guitar, harpsichord, Ionika electric organ, mandolin and voice synthesizer among others) called for in these off-the-wall scores.
Recorded in one of the world’s finest venues, the Jesus-Christus-Kirche in Berlin, the sound is demonstration quality, and the wide assortment of instruments present is guaranteed to test every aspect of your system. In the stereo CD and SACD modes the soundstage is huge, but well-focused with a perfect balance maintained between a parade of soloists and supporting tutti.
The orchestral timbre is natural sounding on the stereo tracks, particularly the SACD one, over the considerably extended frequency range generated by the many plucked as well as percussion instruments. At the same time the bass, which goes extremely low, is quite clean. Those with home theater systems listening to the SACD multichannel track are guaranteed a center seat and a sonic extravaganza of considerable proportions.
