Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco: Piano Works

 by Bill Heck

Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco: Piedigrotta 1924,  Op. 32; Alghe, Op. 12; I naviganti, Op. 13; Cielo di settembre, Op. 1; Calma (A Giramonte); Terrazze; Le stagioni, Op. 33. Adriano Murgia, piano. Piano Classics PCL10347

Sharp-eyed readers may recall my review some months ago of Platero y Yo, a series of vignettes for solo guitar composed by Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco, as played by Niklas Johansen. The review here illustrates the old saying that “one thing leads to another”, at least in the musical world: my interest in those works for guitar led me to the current release of the same composer’s music for solo piano.

Let’s start with a quick note about Castelnuovo-Tedesco, and please excuse a bit of repetition if you’ve read the Platero review. Born in Italy in 1895, he studied music early in the 20^th century and quickly became fascinated with the work of Debussy, who remained one of the major influences on Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s own path. He later was influenced by the contrapuntal techniques of mentors like Ildebrando Pizzeti (whose name is the basis of one of the works on this album). By the 1930’s, he was a rising star internationally, developing musical relationships with figures such as Andres Segovia, Jascha Heifetz, and Gregor Piatigorsky.

In 1939, however, he fled the racial (antisemitic)  policies of Mussolini’s fascist Italy. His reputation inspired prominent American musicians to support his entry into the US and then to relaunch his career, first as a piano soloist and then as a composer. While he continued to compose in the classical tradition, he became better known (and presumably better compensated) for his work on film scores. He also taught composition, with a significant number of subsequently famous musicians in his classes. Castelnuovo-Tedesco passed away in 1968.

Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco

Contemporary listeners might be forgiven for asking why, if Castelnuovo-Tedesco was so great, has his music passed into obscurity today? Well, first, obscurity is not quite the right word. Although one would hardly call him well-known, a good number of recordings of his music are out there, especially of works for orchestra, including two piano concertos; for guitar; and for solo piano. More generally, though, I've noticed perhaps a little more interest in the works of lesser-known composers lately, particularly with the rise of independent record labels. And, if I may be allowed a little speculation, I suspect that several factors may have played a role in his relative eclipse, including not only the tendency of both concert promoters and attendees to go with safe, well-known choices but also the nature of his music. His compositions are not the sort that produce shouts of praise and standing ovations in concerts, nor are they the subject of music appreciation lectures. Whatever the causes, although Castelnuovo-Tedesco may not be top of mind for many listeners, I think that he's one of those composers whose music, once given a chance, turns out to be interesting and enjoyable, exhibiting some real depth.

Consider, for instance the first movement of Piedigrotta, the Tarantella scura (“dark tarantella”). The folk dance zips right along at first as we think it should, but storm clouds intrude in the form of odd bass lines and strange harmonies. This is not a simple country celebration, but a more emotionally complex occasion.

Or take the Fantasia e fuga sul nombre di Ildebrando Pizzetti: the music keeps trying to be a straightforward fugue, but is frequently distracted, so to speak, with all sorts of musical exclamations and interludes, not in a bad way but in imaginative variety.

Meanwhile, Murgia’s playing is fine. He conveys the music with a nice mix of control and freedom; I might have a few minor quibbles here and there but distracting mannerisms are nowhere to be found. One might ask how his performances compare to those on other available recordings, but there’s a snag: the composer's prodigious output means that pianists recording his works won’t often choose the same ones. For example, David Witten’s list of tracks overlaps this one only with the Piedigrotta 1924; same for the fine album by Mark Bennington; that of Jordi Masó has only the brief I naviganti in common; and so on. I certainly haven’t heard anywhere near every album of Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s music for solo piano, not to mention albums on which his compositions appear alongside works by other composers. But to my ear Murgia’s performances hold their own and he does have the benefit of Piano Classics engineering for superb sound. All in all, this album is a great place to start for those interested in exploring Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s work.