Symphonies 3 & 6

Abstract

This is one of those couplings which prompt one to wonder why no one had done it before, for these two symphonies must be among the Swedish composer Kurt Atterberg's (1887-1974) most approachable and memorable works, and together they make a lovely programme. Hearing them in quick succession also emphasises Atterberg's characteristic sound and invention. Heard like this the Sixth, despite its mixed press, is recognisably the work of the composer of the Third Symphony.

There has only been one previous recording of Atterberg's Third, but five of the Sixth. So, what of the competition? First, lets look at the Third Symphony, one of Atterberg's best, which particularly excels in orchestral colour. It was first recorded on a long-cherished LP by the Stockholm Philharmonic conducted by Sixten Ehrling (Caprice CAPO 125) recorded in 1982, a performance still available on CD (CAP 21364). It is a lovely reading which is not superseded by this new version, good though Rasilainen and his Hannover players are. Rasilainen is more expansive in the outer movements - adding a minute to the first and almost two to the finale - and thus emphasising the grandeur of the programmatic elements. The glorious climax of the third movement is thrillingly realised, the brass vividly caught in an enveloping sound-stage, with a finely long-drawn fade-out.

The Third Symphony was written during the first two years of the Great War, and is a remarkably effective and attractive symphony, with a nature programme. Some commentators have been moved to judge it the best of Atterberg's symphonies, and I would not dissent from that. The composer called it Västkustbilder ('West Coast Pictures') and I have also seen it referred to by the English title 'Ocean Pictures' and the German 'Meeressymphonie', all of which seem adequate as descriptions of the symphony's programmatic material. The arrangement of the three movements - two slow movements divided by a quick one - is remarkably effective. The movements are 'Soldis' (translated in the booklet as 'Sun smoke' - 'Sun haze' gives a better idea), 'Storm' and 'Sommernatt'. The exciting storm music in the vivid middle movement is strongly reminiscent of the climax of Arnold Bax's orchestral tone-poem November Woods, which, when I asked Atterberg about it in the early 1970s, he assured me he had never heard.

Writing in the excellent CPO booklet Michael Kube tells us that Atterberg's Third Symphony enjoyed 22 performances outside Sweden before 1924. However, it was little heard, if at all, in the UK, and Atterberg as a composer was, for most music lovers, an unknown quantity until the Schubert Centenary in 1928, when the composer produced his prize-winning Sixth Symphony and its attendant notoriety. In fact in 1928 Atterberg was so little-known in the UK one British critic even went so far as to question whether he had actually written the Symphonies 1-5 that were listed in his catalogue. So he was a totally unknown quantity.

The Atterberg Sixth is a work about which much nonsense was written when it first appeared. It was the winning entry for the Columbia Graphophone Company's Schubert Centenary composition competition, which in 1928 aroused a lot of opposition from a rather starchy unsmiling academic and critical community. The prize included the recording of the prize-winning works and as well as Atterberg, recordings appeared of the British winner, Pax Vobiscum by the now forgotten J St Anthony Johnson (Columbia 9564), and the American winner, Charles Haubiel's symphonic variations, Karma (Am Col. 9065-7).

The Atterberg is a lyrical and engaging romantic score with a flashy even trivial finale. A programme note once referred to its 'robust sense of humour' but I think we might now also appreciate its inherent romanticism. The slow movement is one of Atterberg's most atmospheric and characteristic movements.

The first recording was by Atterberg himself, with the Berlin Philharmonic (Polydor PD 95193-5), no less. Despite its swift tempi the composer's own performance is a remarkably effective one: virile, but never sounding rushed, and a talisman for later interpreters, who by and large have probably not heard the composer and whose tempi are rather more expansive. The Atterberg 78s are a mystery - why have they not been reissued on CD when they are technically and musically so good, and with the added authority of the composer on the rostrum.

Before its early performances Beecham made his recording at London's Scala Theatre on 12 July 1928 (Gray says August) with his RPO (Columbia L 2160/3 a performance which contemporary reports indicated sold very well before the Crash in October 1929) and then gave his only public performance of the work at Queen's Hall on 12 November the same year with the London Symphony Orchestra, four days after its British premiere in Manchester. Beecham's recording is notable for the lovely solo wind playing in the first two movements, and the interplay of the chattering wood winds in the finale. He also finds perfect tempi for the slowly welling big climaxes. The dash for the finale is very much apparent on the last side of the Beecham, and indeed the critic Sydney Grew remarked in December 1928 that in the hall Beecham had played the finale 'in a broader slightly slower manner than when he played it for the . . . recording. Grew added: 'it is important to note that the sudden drop to tonelessness which takes place in the gramophone reproduction for a few bars before the concluding chords is not intended by the composer'. Reissued on Dutton CDLX 7026 it has recently been repressed and is a must for all lovers of Atterberg.

During the war Toscanini conducted the symphony for the only time (21 November 1943), a performance reissued on LP by the Toscanini Society (ATS 1009) and now available on Dell'Arte CDDA 9019. The Toscanini live performance was taken off air on acetate discs and comes down to us in remarkably good sound. It was his only performance of the music. The curious way Toscanini phrases the opening horn lines, as if to play down any romantic associations is but the lead-in to a warring first movement. This approach characterises his view of the whole work and it is notable for its muscular combative interpretation, with plenty of martial swagger in the outer movements and the lovely pseudo-Schubertian tune beautifully moulded.

Thus for many years no-one had heard a modern performance of this music, which had acquired the reputation of something of a curio, not to be taken too seriously. I have to say that when the BBC broadcast a performance by the Göteborg Symphony conducted by Norman del Mar in the 1970s (not so far as I know issued commercially) it came as a revelation. Swedish Radio Archives also used to have, I imagine still have, a 1959 performance by the Stockholm Phil conducted by Paul Kletzki. There is also an LP coupling with Atterberg's Fifth Symphony on Aries, a label noted for its pseudonymous performers, attributed to the "Helsingborg Symphony Orchestra conducted by Lennart Hedwall". Later came the first digital recording, a fine Norrköping Symphony performance conducted by Jun'ichi Hirokami for BIS, issued in 1992 (BIS-CD-553), which is only displaced, if at all, by this new recording on account of the coupling.