I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Andrzej Panufnik (1914-1991) is the sleeping giant of Polish music. He’s one of those figures, like Bohuslav Martinu, who always seems perched on the verge of greatness, and yet never quite achieves the full degree of recognition he deserves.
To begin with, his particular brand of modernism was eclipsed by the avant-garde experiments of his compatriot and friend, Witold Lutoslawski. Panufnik’s relationship with Lutoslawski dated back to the war years. During the German occupation, the two formed a piano duo which played in Warsaw cafes – at the time the only way to share live music in public, since there was a ban on organized gatherings.
In the meantime, Panufnik quietly produced subversive works celebrating Polish heroism and the resistance. Following the war, he was instrumental in the re-establishment of the Warsaw Philharmonic. However, increasing friction with Poland’s communist regime led to the composer’s defection, under hair-raising circumstances, in 1954. He was granted asylum in England, where he received a knighthood in the year of his death.
Panufnik’s “Sinfonia Rustica,” composed in 1948 and revised in 1955, as the title implies, is a work very much of the people, making use of fragmented Polish themes, meant to reflect the rustic, semi-abstract, paper-cut art of the peasantry. Not only the symphony’s framework, but also the layout of the orchestra, is meant to reflect the symmetry found in Polish folk art. Nevertheless, despite the work’s direct character, it was denounced in 1949 as “alien to the great socialist era.”
The Czech composer Václav Nelhýbel (1919-1996) was also displaced. Nelhybel left Nazi-occupied Prague for Switzerland in 1942. Later, he settled in the United States, where he taught at Lowell State College. He also served as composer-in-residence at the University of Scranton for several years until his death. During his time in America, he oversaw many bands and youth ensembles. He is remembered as an energetic and demanding though ultimately endearing taskmaster.
Nelhýbel was dizzyingly prolific, with 400 published works to his credit and an additional 200 left in manuscript. The “Etude Symphonique” of 1964 is as exacting and propulsive as the artist who created it, with a three-note motive exhaustively developed. The work’s churning rhythms and cross-rhythms lend it a sense of vitality, and new ideas are continually formulated and examined.
Of a more reflective nature is John Rutter’s Requiem. Rutter (b. 1945) is best known for his all-pervasive music for Christmas. His setting of the Requiem, composed in 1985, eschews the terror and high drama of Berlioz and Verdi to offer solace and tranquility in the manner of Gabriel Fauré’s most beloved essay in the form. I think you’ll find it the perfect restorative music for an early autumn evening.
Works by these three composers will form the loom upon which I hope to weave a compelling program for your late September satisfaction, today from 4 to 7 p.m. EDT, on WWFM – The Classical Network and wwfm.org.
Clockwise from left: Andrzej the Giant; Vaclav the Vital; and John the Rejuvenator
