I rarely use this space to review
or report on recordings, but I recently came across one that struck me as
important and noteworthy in many ways. It is Naxos's
Volume One of the orchestral music of Leroy Anderson. Leonard Slatkin leads
energetic, committed performances of a wide range of Anderson works, and
Slatkin and pianist Jeffrey Biegel team up to show us that Anderson was capable
of writing a fine Piano Concerto, one that deserves to be more widely known
than it currently is.
But what makes this disc stand out
for me is that it points out how little attention the American musical
community has given to one of its own giants, just because his music fell into
that uncomfortable area between "popular" and "classical." (God, how I hate
those terms.) Leroy Anderson was a genius, as this disc amply demonstrates. He
worked on a remarkable level of melodic inspiration, tunes pouring out of him
like water out of a fountain. He wrote what we today call "pops" repertoire -
much of it for Arthur Fiedler and his Boston Pops.
Other countries treat their
composers of lighter music with much greater respect--whether it is Johann
Strauss Jr. in Austria or
Hans Christian Lumbye in Denmark,
to give just two examples. There is a place in the repertoire for music of a
lighter nature. But we're so damned serious in our concert life, so vested in
making every concert an "artistic experience at the highest level," that we've
neglected one of America's
true originals.
Fortunately, 2008 is Anderson's centennial
year, so his music is likely to get some attention. He wrote only one
extended-length work, and that is the Piano Concerto heard on this disc (Naxos 8.559313, for those of you who still collect
recordings, as I do). The work was premiered by the Grant Park Orchestra in Chicago, under Anderson's
baton with Eugene List as soloist, in 1953. It got mixed reviews both there and
in a subsequent performance in Cleveland, and Anderson withdrew it. He
intended to revise it, but never did, though toward the end of his life he is
reported to have found himself coming around to the piece again. After his
death, his widow Eleanor Anderson decided to release it in its original form, and
Jeffrey Biegel is one of its main proponents now. One wishes that the critics
had been more open to this tuneful, colorful piece--perhaps Anderson would have
been encouraged to write more music in larger forms.
But no matter. We shouldn't fall
into the trap of diminishing the importance of Anderson just because most of his pieces are
three or four minutes long, tuneful, and toe-tappingly rhythmic. The one
American composer in this vein whom we seem to have treated well is John Philip
Sousa. Perhaps Anderson's
time is finally coming. This disc shows that he is a true American treasure,
and great fun to listen to.
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