Madetoja: Orchestral Works [CD]

Leevi Madetoja, fellow countryman and pupil of Sibelius, tried to keep his music from sounding like his teacher's. However, at least his first two symphonies are very reminiscent of the older composer's early and middle idiom, but the listener should not expect "Sibelius II". Madetoja's harmony is never quite so astringent as later Sibelius, and the moods are never so dark and bleak as Sibelius' No.4. Madetoja, even at his most Sibelian, has his own voice, and, in his third symphony, developed his own distinctive idiom.

The first two symphonies are peppered with Sibelian fingerprints (pardon the mixed metaphor). No.1 opens with Straussian rhythms that recall "Eulenspiegel", but the second theme is in a warmly romantic Tchaikovskian vein. The woodwind writing in pairs has a characteristically Sibelian sparkle. Although textbook form dictates the recap should begin with the first theme in the main key (F), Madetoja recalls the second theme first, and then in the leading tone tonality (E major!).

No.1/II has something of the melancholy of Sibelius' No.3, and at 1:43, the rocking motif in woodwinds against unison strings sounds like something out of Sibelius' No.5. III opens with the same sort of tingling string tremolo that begins the Allegro energico of Sibelius' No.1. In the finale, the episode with paired woodwind--isolated like lonely birds against the stark frozen waste of a growling bass and the climax over a succession of long timpani rolls and thuds--are very Sibelian. It ends in the "wrong" key of A major, with Sibelian abruptness.

Madetoja's monumental No.2 (at over 43 minutes, his longest symphony) is a tragic, elegiac work dedicated to the memory of the composer's mother. Again, paired woodwinds flicker over a unison melody in the strings, while the lower instruments pace about nervously below. Very Sibelian are the slowly changing harmonies, emphatic Tchaikovskian brass interjections and the alternation of full orchestra with the barest of woodwind solos supported only by throbbing timpani. (By this time, Sibelius had composed his first five symphonies.)

In No.2/II, an offstage oboe and horn strike a folk-like note with pentatonic melodies. There are occasional prophecies of "Tapiola": an ice-sheet of dissonant chords in the high strings with no support except an ominous timpani roll, or the frigid breath of the strings wafting about between woodwinds and muttering low strings (although it's not quite so blisteringly cold as Sibelius' tone-poem). Until now, things have been relatively tranquil, but III--a very black-humored scherzo--interrupts violently with shrieking winds, dramatically pounding and sputtering brass, and shuddering strings. This memory of the terrors of WWI eventually burns itself out, leading to the stunned finale, where ashes continue to fall from a smoke-filled blood-red sky, to a blackened earth stalked by woodwinds pacing in pairs. The music eventually falls into an appalled silence. This may not be Madetoja's most individual work, but contrary to prevailing opinion, I think it's his best--certainly his most intense--symphony.

No.3 is VERY different, a much lighter and generally more cheerful work, generally considered to be his best symphony (although I still prefer No.2). Some commentators have detected an almost French lightness of touch--it was a shock to Madetoja's public who expected another tragic work like No.2. It is certainly his most mature symphony from a standpoint of his truly finding an individual style and freeing himself from the influence of Sibelius, although I has some of the luminous bustle of No.6/I. II is a pensive modal canon on a folk-like tune. Stiffly marching brass open III, which leads to a lighthearted, vaguely Celtic-sounding jig, with a macro-rhythm in quarter-note duplets over the prevailing 6/8. Horns introduce the finale with a solemn unison chorale, and then an odd tango-like transition to a rather fidgety but cheerful waltz. The chorale and the tango return toward the end, and the symphony concludes by quietly receding into itself.

The rest of the second disc is filled out with a suite from Madetoja's best-known opera, "The Ostrobothians" (very much like Shostakovich's film music), a suite from his eerie ballet music for "Okon Fuoko" (about a puppet maker who imagines[?] one of his dolls has come to life), and the "Comic Overture," an almost Nielsen like, rollicking rondo in 6/8.

Petri Sakari and the Iceland Symphony Orchestra give performances of verve, intensity and virtuosity. This reasonably priced Chandos "twofer" is an easy way to become acquainted with this fascinating Finnish symphonist. Recommended to fans of Sibelius, Alfven, Melartin, and just fans of 20th-century symphonies in general.