Dvořák and Price, a fitting combination, the possibility of which we scarcely suspected a decade or so ago. Let’s recall the historical facts: Dvořák the Czech went to teach (and compose!) in the United States for about three years, between 1892 and 1895. During this time, he inspired a whole generation of local composers, while recharging his batteries himself through his discovery of Afro-American and Native American vernacular music. Some traditional Afro American songs were suggested to Dvořák by Harry T. Burleigh, a young black composer who attended one of the composer’s classes at the Conservatoire, and Dvořák subsequently incorporated them (or at least certain structures and harmonic effects) into masterpieces such as the New World Symphony, the American Quartet and others. Subsequently, Florence Price, a remarkable young artist and the first black woman to hear her music performed on the great classical stages, drew on this spirit and appropriated the idioms of black music even more forcefully (as did her compatriot and contemporary William Grant Still), with a science of construction and lyricism imbued with that of Dvořák.
So much for the timeline. Add to this genealogy a twist of fate such as the rediscovery in 2009, in a musty-smelling old cardboard box forgotten in the attic of an abandoned house, of dozens of intact scores by Mrs Price (a house that had previously belonged to the artist), including that of this piano quintet, and we have here a summary of the hows and whys of this kind of musical patronage, impossible to imagine before this recent date.
Price’s Piano Quintet in A minor dates from 1936 and is a very attractive fusion of the vernacular and the learned mentioned above. The use of pentatonic modes, as well as short-long rhythms betray the black folk roots that Dvořák had distilled into his American music. Price’s lyrical ease also demonstrates his debt to the Czech, but above all her own talent, which we have been enjoying for some years now, and which had unfortunately been obscured by the usual mnemonic narrowness of a classical musical history written mainly by white men.
This quintet, while not a revelation that overturns the preconceptions of modern music, is nonetheless an important complementary milestone in the construction of a history of 20th-century music that is more in tune with the reality and diversity of its expressions. The quintet is refined, elegant, seductive, accessible and nourishing for attentive ears. An poignant slow movement, a light-hearted little movement in the form of a Juba dance, an equivalent of the Cakewalk, exciting outer movements without being extravagant, and above all melodically memorable, this is a strong proposal that will certainly be emulated in future recordings. Marc-André Hamelin and the Takacs give it just the right breath of air, imbued with conviction and infectious dynamism.
The Dvořák, the ins and outs of which I won’t explain at length here, other than to say that this is the composer’s second exercise in this medium and that it is one of his most accomplished works, is here ideally conducted by the five musicians. Judicious balance, crystal-clear phrases, dazzlingly dynamic contrasts – in short, a reading that is as exciting as it gets. When you bring together some of the world’s finest performers, you don’t always get the sense of fulfilment you want, but here, it totally works.
An album resplendent in its quality, of course, but also in its exceptional opening onto a new world of classical music as we didn’t imagine it not so long ago.
