Copland Sympony

The three Copland classics on this disc–Billy the Kid, Appalachian Spring and Rodeo–are all ballet scores, and from the very first bars of Billy, with its evocative depiction of the wide-open prairies, you are firmly in the territory of music that tells a story. But you don't need to follow all the ins and outs of each story to enjoy music which paints as vivid a picture of rural America as you could hope for. If the sprightly "Hoe Down" from Rodeo brings a splash of colour to concert programmes, the remarkable thing about so much of the music in these three pieces is how quietly sensitive it is. And while Michael Tilson Thomas does not hold back in wringing every last ounce of splashy razzmatazz, he is equally the master of introspective music which clearly demonstrates that you don't need to be loud to be a populist. The recordings were made in the San Francisco Symphony's home, Davies Symphony Hall. You couldn't hope for more authentic performances than this–more than 76 minutes of dyed-in-the-wool Americana.

Aaron Copland may well be the best-known, the most loved, and the all-around greatest of twentieth century American composers, but his music from the '20s and '30s is still relatively unknown, still relatively unloved, and of still questionable greatness. Was Copland the Modernist too far out to connect to a big audience so he re-created himself as Copland the Populist to become the best-known, most loved, and greatest American composer? But was his Piano Concerto from 1926 really too jazzy and vulgar, his Symphonic Ode from 1928 really too cerebral and severe, his Piano Variations from 1930 really too harsh and austere, and his Short Symphony from 1934 really too rhythmic and complex or was it lack of familiarity made them seem so? From this 1996 recording by Michael Tilson Thomas and the San Francisco Symphony, one would have to vote for the latter because Copland the Modernist is every bit as great a composer as Copland the Populist.

'Appalachian Spring' and 'El Salón Mexicó' are archetypical of what many people consider to be the sound of American music, evoking the vast landscapes, cowboys and pioneer spirit. Yet, in the 20th century perhaps only Stravinsky was as adept in as many styles as Aaron Copland [1900-1990]. His Piano Concerto, first performed by Serge Koussevitsky, is a good example of Copland the modernist but he also wrote chamber music, ballets, operas and film scores, as well as teaching, writing and latterly conducting. The winter of 1950 saw Copland take a break from writing his superlative 'Twelve Poems of Emily Dickinson' and, inspired by a Pears and Britten recital in late 1949, he took five of his favourite American songs and arranged them for voice with piano. Pears and Britten liked them so much that they gave the premiere together at the Aldburgh Festival in 1950.

In recent years Marc Copland has been honing an introspective approach to the piano that's as heavy on substance as it is on style. But with the exception of his ongoing trio with bassist Drew Gress and drummer Jochen Ruchert, he's concentrated on solo work, duets and an unconventional trio with trumpeter Kenny Wheeler and guitarist John Abercrombie. As a result, this recording, where he shares top billing with veteran trumpeter Randy Brecker, comes as something of a surprise.

An enjoyable collection for White fans, although one might prefer one's spirituals on a bigger scale. That said, Willard White makes these well-known songs seem much more intimate and reflective, private rather than public. Swing low, pressed into service at last year's rugby world cup, is sung rather faster than usual. That's no bad thing, as the song can be made to sound rather lachrymose. For White there is a sense of eager anticipation, that heaven really is at hand. The Copland songs are enjoyable too and are sung with apparent enjoyment. They were all new to me and I can see myself returning to them for their witty lyrics and sense of fun. The Chandos recording is good and the voice is well caught. The accompaniment is discreet and intelligent, making this a delightful disc all round.

This disc substantially duplicates the repertoire on an all-Copland program produced by DG with the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra. However, where DG included the Short Symphony, Naxos offers the Clarinet Concerto. While the Nashville Chamber Orchestra doesn’t offer quite the tonal refinement and polish of Orpheus, it basically plays just as well, and its slightly weightier, gutsier, more rustic sonority arguably suits the music even better. In the famous rehearsal disc that accompanied Copland’s own recording of the original chamber version of Appalachian Spring, he can be heard exhorting his players not to sentimentalize the music: “…it’s a little too much on the Massenet-side,” he tells them. Obviously Paul Gambill understands this point, for he offers interpretations ideally poised between warmth and simplicity, full of those clean and clear sonorities that Copland made his own.

Copland began his Music for the Theatre in May 1925 in New York City, but the bulk of the composition was written at the MacDowell Colony in New Hampshire during the summer. Having been impressed with Copland's earlier Symphony for Organ and Orchestra (1924), conductor Sergey Koussevitzky (1874-1951) urged the League of Composers to commission an orchestral piece from Copland, to be performed the following season.