Ferruccio Benvenuto Busoni (1866-1924) Ottorino Respighi
(1879-1936)
Works for Cello and Piano
What are the elements in common between Ottorino Respighi
and Ferruccio Busoni, apart from the fact that they are both Italian composers
who lived in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century? At first one
would say that the differences between them are more numerous than the
similarities; on closer examination of the two composers, however, it is
possible to see some points of contact. A cursory glance at their respective
biographies reveals initially that both Respighi and Busoni had an
international musical training that decisively influenced the future course of
their careers. Respighi, in fact, studied in Bologna with Martucci, but also at
St Petersburg with Rimsky-Korsakov and in Berlin with Bruch; the Italian-German
Busoni followed regular courses of instruction in Graz, but received advice
from Boito in Bologna, from Rubinstein and Brahms in Vienna, from Reinecke in
Leipzig and from other eminent composers who heard him as an infant prodigy on
tour in Europe.
Both Respighi and Busoni fought for a revaluation of Italian
music of the past and for the creation of a national school; as far as Respighi
is concerned, his enthusiasm for the glorious Italian sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries is well known, shared also by other composers of the so-called
'generation of the 80s', Pizzetti, Malipiero and Casella. Less well known is
Busoni's passion for the masterpieces of early Italian polyphony: yet from his correspondence
there often emerge the names of Scarlatti, Marcello, Jommelli, scores of whose
music he sought to have published. The practice of transcription was also
shared by both composers: Respighi's works include a notable number of
arrangements of Tartini, Monteverdi, Vivaldi and others. As far as Busoni is
concerned, transcription was second nature to him and he transcribed not only
music by Bach but also works of Mozart, Beethoven, Liszt, Brahms and Wagner,
and even of his own music, of which there often exist different versions.
There remain, naturally, fundamentally different aesthetic
choices: the musical language of Respighi remains always tied to the tonal
system, with a strong tendency towards the revival of ancient Gregorian modes.
His instrumental taste shows a debt to Rimsky-Korsakov, but also to Debussy and
Strauss. Busoni's mature style, by contrast, goes beyond tonality, touching
first on the atonality of Schoenberg, then to find sublimation in 'new
classicism', as he himself defined the stylistic stage he reached in his final
years. Busoni's use of the orchestra is certainly less attractive than that of
Respighi: here one can distinguish a German background, but treated in a very
personal way. The works included in the present recording, nevertheless, go
back to the early years of the two composers (with the exception of the
transcriptions by Busoni) and so can be heard side by side.
The present release starts with Respighi's Adagio con
variazioni (1903-1910), written when he was very young and then transcribed for
cello and orchestra. The theme of the Adagio is by Antonio Certani, a cellist
friend of Respighi in Bologna and the dedicatee of the work. In the formal
structure and the treatment of the string instrument there is a possible precedent
in Bruch's Kol Nidrei of 1881; Respighi's work, moreover, anticipates certain
moods of Bloch's Schelomo (1915). This does not mean, naturally, that the
thematic material used is derived from traditional national sources, but that
the element common to the three works is rather that of a singing theme of
traditional pattern. It could, indeed, be interesting to study more deeply how
this singing instrumental quality of Respighi may be related to his
transcriptions of the works of early Italian composers, already many in number
before the Adagio was composed.
While it is a mere hypothesis that the Adagio con variazioni
may in some way have a debt to other music arranged by Respighi, the
Bach-Busoni Chromatic Fantasia and Fugue of 1917 is to all intents and purposes
a transcription. For many concert-goers after the second world war Bach-Busoni
constitutes a kind of double-barrelled name, like Wolf-Ferrari or
Pick-Mangiagalli: the figure of Busoni came to be covered by the giant shadow
of Bach, without too many problems. In this case we have a division into two of
a work written for keyboard that has to be played by two instruments; without
going into too many technical details, it is extraordinary how Busoni preserves
the appearance of a grand solo improvisation in the Chromatic Fantasia, with
scales, runs and recitatives for cello and piano. In the fugue the division of
labour is simpler: Busoni takes one of the three voices entrusted to the
keyboard by Bach and appropriates it for the string instrument.
The Kleine Suite, Opus 23 (1885-86) is not a transcription,
but, like the greater part of the compositions of Busoni in his twenties, pays
its debt to the spirit of Johann Sebastian Bach. It is, in fact, a kind of
idealised reconstruction of a Bach suite, with some concessions towards
instrumental idioms of late romanticism. It opens with a Moderato ma energico
that is a true Corrente, with a relatively dense contrapuntal dialogue between
the instruments; this is followed by an Andantino, con grazia that takes the
place of an Aria. The succeeding Massig, doch frisch recalls movements of
Bach's Partitas with the titles of Capriccio, or Scherzo, or Rondo, while the
Sostenuto ed espressivo is to all intents and purposes a Sarabande. The final
Moderato ma con brio to some extent moves away from the model and offers
writing suggesting Schumann.
Dated some years earlier, the Serenata, Opus 34 (1883) is
actually a transcription of the last movement of the Suite, Opus 10 (1878) for
clarinet. Comparison between the first and second versions of the work is
illuminating in its revelation of the growing maturity of a boy between the
ages of twelve and seventeen, although Busoni is more familiar with the
clarinet, of which his father was a recognised virtuoso, than with the cello.
The writing for the cello is more extended and more careful, but also it is
much freer and more personal in its harmony and in its thematic development;
the ternary form is treated with authority and the return of the central
element in a coda gives unity to the whole piece.
Five years later Busoni turned again to the cello, writing a
series of ten short variations on a Finnish folk-song, Kultaselle (1878). He
had already made use of Finnish folk-music in his piano duet Finnlandische
Volksweisen, Opus 27 (1889). Kultaselle is more developed both from the point
of view of harmony and in concertante writing: Busoni, who was nevertheless
very critical of his own youthful compositions, kept it in his repertoire and
in his final years thought even of preparing a new version. Perhaps he
treasured these variations because they recalled the period he had spent in
Helsinki, when he had met his wife; or perhaps he found that it was his best
contribution to cello repertoire, beside, of course, the transcriptions.
The present release ends with another transcription, in this
case of a late work of Liszt, the Valse oubliee that Busoni split between the
two instruments in the same year of 1917 in which he had made a similar
arrangement of the Chromatic Fantasia and Fugue. Here too we meet a surprising
result that modifies the timbre of Liszt's chords, immersing the whole piece in
an atmosphere that seems to prefigure early Bartok. In particular, the
three-string pizzicati of the cello and the exploitation of the upper register
in the ending shifts the sonority of this waltz, already very advanced
harmonically in Liszt's version, towards the twentieth century, of which Busoni
was one of the greatest prophets.
Marco Vincenzi
English version by Keith Anderson