Florence Price: Symphony 4 - William Dawson: Negro Folk Symphony (Streaming Review)

by Bill Heck

Florence Price: Symphony 4; William Dawson: Negro Folk Symphony. Yannick Nézet-Séguin, Philadelphia Orchestra.  DG CC 72970

A few weeks ago, I was first exposed to the music of William Dawson (1899 - 1990) in the form of a concert featuring the Negro Folk Symphony. What an introduction that was! This is the kind of work that, as the saying goes, brings down the house, and it certainly did that evening. Naturally I went looking for a recording of the piece only to find that it was part of a recent DG release, and thus an obvious choice for a review here. Nice coincidence, eh?

This release is the final one of a series of recordings produced by DG featuring orchestral music of Florence Price played by the Philadelphia Orchestra conducted by Yannick Nézet-Séguin. Indeed, one of the CDs in this series (Symphonies 1 & 3) was already reviewed by our own KWN here. So, you may be wondering why this article is marked as a “streaming review”? What happened to the CD? Well, for whatever reason, DG saw fit to make this one a streaming-only version. Maybe they ran out of silver discs. So far, I've been unable to find a downloadable version either, and I’ve been unable to find a booklet or, as we used to say, liner notes. All this means that you will need to locate this recording through your favorite streaming service. But there's good news: it’s well worth the effort. Read on to find out why.

Let’s start with the Price Symphony 4, which is the first of the two works in this release. A few years ago, readers might have been mystified as to who Florence Price was, but now her music has been revived with multiple recordings. Please do check out KWN’s review for background information on Price; I won't repeat all that here.

Florence Price

Readers who heard some of Price's earlier orchestral works will not be surprised at the style of music presented here: incorporating themes from historically Black music, such as spirituals, as well as some jazz elements, while at the same time looking backwards in the sense of using traditional Western classical music forms. In this symphony, the first movement is built upon the motive of the familiar spiritual tune Wade in the Water. (Those of us of a certain age may be more familiar with that tune from the Ramsey Lewis Trio 1966 instrumental recording than from any more traditional presentations.) While the movement contains stretches of appealing music, I find that the “Wade“ motive is being asked to carry more than it can bear, so to speak, with the music beginning to be a little repetitious without clear progression. Things improve significantly in the beautiful second movement, in which multiple themes, mostly fragments of spirituals, intertwine and are punctuated by dramatic crescendos. The movement is spellbinding; when I first heard it, it seemed to drift by in a few moments, but it really is a leisurely seven minutes. The third movement, an even shorter five minute "juba", is where the jazz influence shows up most prominently, as Price plays with off beats and drifting themes. Quite a fun bit; my only complaint was that it ended too soon. Finally, the fourth movement is a jaunty scherzo, again short at just five minutes, which brought to mind on first hearing an Irish jig. Yes, that's just my idiosyncratic (or possibly idiotic) reaction, but the music really does dance along in a most captivating way. All in all, the symphony is more than worth a listen, although we might wish that Price had had the time to perhaps refine the first movement. Meanwhile, the recorded sound is excellent: full and natural, approaching demo quality, and of course the Philadelphia Orchestra is in fine form, as expected.

William Dawson

For me, though, the second work on the program is the real star of the show. Dawson also uses traditional tunes, but he tends to choose lesser known ones and weaves them subtly into the overall piece. His transformations, variations, and linkages are imaginative and yet seem perfectly logical as they emerge.

The first movement alternates between energy and struggle, between light and dark. Dawson intended this to reflect the struggles and travails of Blacks in America, but the music can stand alone without reference to that (or any) program. Energy is abundant: the musical twists and turns leave us gasping for breath but excited to be along for the ride. The second movement begins almost as a dirge but is harmonically inventive; had someone told me that it was written by, say, Rachmaninoff (perhaps a Rachmaninoff who had quaffed a couple of energy drinks), I might have believed it. The music accelerates with a theme that is reminiscent of something by Dvorak, then slows abruptly as if worried that misfortune will overtake us if we are too happy. The dirge theme reappears with a flute floating high above, the sun then breaks through again; life is complicated, with both highs and lows, yearning, striving; the themes come together and fade out dramatically to end the section. The third movement starts with turmoil, searching for stability until a quiet theme rises up in the woodwinds; the music still seeks restlessly, until all comes together in a burst of confidence for a joyous conclusion.

As to the sound here, I believe that this work was recorded in a different venue than the Price symphony. Although the sonics are good, the sound is not quite so natural and is a little on the diffuse and recessed side. For a work that should have major sonic impact, it's a pity that we don't have quite the level of sound reproduction as some other recent DG efforts.

Returning for a moment to my own reaction upon first hearing this work, the obvious question was this: where had this music been all my life, i.e., why had I not heard this work before, or indeed heard of Dawson at all? Surprisingly, the Negro Folk Symphony had been premiered by this very same orchestra, the Philadelphia, under Leopold Stokowski in 1934. By accounts of the time, not only was the critical reception positive but the audience was enthralled. There were a few more performances, also well received – and then the work effectively disappeared. There may have been multiple reasons, but at least one was that no publisher would take it on, and without a publisher – specifically one that could provide orchestral parts – performance could not happen. It's hard to know exactly what was going on, but presumably racism, and racist presumptions, were at work. (Surely the public would not want to hear that odd Black music; never mind that the public had heard and loved it earlier). Dawson went on to other things, never composing another such work, although he made some revisions to the original score in 1952.

If you want to hear some other approaches to Dawson's masterpiece, you now have choices. An early one was Stokowski's own with the "American Symphony Orchestra" in 1963, in stereo no less. (The ASO was formed by Stokowski and is not to be confused with the other, real American Symphony Orchestra – and no, I'm not going down that rabbit hole.) This performance appeared on multiple labels over the years and is still available as part of a DG two CD set (477 6502). The sonics aren't bad for the time: a little harsh in a few spots and with a lot of spotlighting, which actually brings out some of the nuances of orchestration. The Neeme Jarvi / Detroit Symphony on Chandos seems to me just too fast, not allowing the music to bloom. But the Arthur Fagen / ORF Vienna Radio SO release on Naxos gives us excellent sound and is sort of between Stokowski and Nezet-Seguin interpretively.

So am I recommending the performances actually under review? Yes, but with a qualifier: if you find the Dawson work a little laid back, check out one of the other performances mentioned above; it may be the recorded sound that’s letting you down. Meanwhile, if you spot the Negro Folk Symphony coming up on a live concert program, go for it!