Hovhaness: Violin Concerto No. 2; Works for Violin and Piano. Zina Schiff, violinist; Valerie Stark, pianist; Avlana Eisenberg, conductor; Salzburg Chamber Soloists. Naxos 8.559957.
I won't pretend to have heard even half of Alan Hovhaness's 434 opuses. But I have heard enough to harbor a minimally provisional opinion: his music is indeed on the slight side, yet doesn't deserve the hate it gets. His large-scale works usually aren't really large scale works; they're often just a bunch of miniatures strung together. His themes are short and repetitive, which make for brief, monotony-warding movements. Those who demand Germanic development in their concertos and symphonies won't like Hovhaness's at all. But others (like me) who don't necessarily need to have this (despite what that Pedant of all Pedants Robert Simpson may have said), nor fully-breathed Romantic melodies, stand to enjoy some nice, often highly evocative music for what it is.
That was my experience with this new disc from Naxos. All of the works on it are at least pleasant. I already don't remember the materials from the Second Violin Concerto, Op. 89a. But I remember that I liked it and wouldn't mind hearing it again. To varying degrees I'd say the same for most of the other offerings: Yeraz, the Khirgiz Suite, the Violin Sonata, 3 Visions of Saint Mesrob, Varak, and the arrangement of Hovhaness's Op. 1, Oror. As the recording's back cover states, these show a good cross-section of the composer's eclectic influences from East and West. But they dissipated quickly in my recollections soon after I listened to them.
However, one work particularly caught my ear: Les baux, Op. 261, which receives its premiere recording. Here is what the liner notes say about it:
"The title stems from a Ligurian term for steep cliffs or rock promontories. Renowned for its historic medieval streets, charming squares, and luscious wine, Les Baux was a favorite destination in Provence for the mountain-loving composer. Hovhaness inches us to the edge of the mountain, where the dizzying, dazzling views command."
There is something about Hovhaness and mountains that brings out the best in him, and leads to a point which I feel is instructive about the composer. Given the right extra-musical inspiration, he was capable of producing ear-worms that stay with you. Mysterious Mountain (Symphony No. 2) is at first glance just a modest little thing, but its evocations are rich. Les Baux, with its repeated violin melodies and chime-like arpeggio accompaniment in the piano, similarly got into my brain and stuck there after just a single hearing. Subsequent listens confirmed my strong attraction. It is gentle yet haunting music, and superbly captures the scene described above. Onto my Spotify playlist of favorite chamber pieces it goes!
I love making discoveries like this. Les Baux doesn't impress me in the way that a Beethoven symphony or Verdi opera does. But the way in which it does so is a way I wouldn't want to be without in my musical life, similar to how I am often in the mood for my favorite pop bands over the classical repertoire which I make my living teaching and writing about. There are absolutely such subdivisions in my classical listening alone, and Hovhaness constitutes one of them.
If you feel the same, give this disc a try. Les Baux might not be the ear-worm for you that it is for me. There may turn out not to be anything on this recording that is. But in that case I challenge you to keep exploring Hovhaness's music and see if you don't eventually alight upon something else that strikes you as special.
Verdict: Recommended
