William Dawson; Ulysses Kay: Negro Folk Symphony; Fantasy Variations - Umbrian Scene
Naxos American Classics

With its American Classics series, Naxos continues to draw attention to works that deserve to be better known to contemporary audiences. The material by African-American composers William Dawson (1899-1990) and Ulysses Kay (1917-1995) performed by ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra (Vienna RSO) under Arthur Fagen's direction on this latest collection certainly falls into that category: Dawson's Negro Folk Symphony was received enthusiastically when it was premiered on November 14th, 1934, no doubt in part due to the resonant folk themes and spirituals Dawson wove into its three parts; the two single-movement works by Kay are no less memorable for being so expressive.

Dawson studied music in Kansas City and at the American Conservatory in Chicago before returning in 1931 to the Tuskegee Institute in Alabama (he'd earlier run away from home at thirteen to study there) to establish and lead its music department. During the next three years, he wrote Negro Folk Symphony, after which it was performed by Leopold Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra thrice in Philadelphia and at Carnegie Hall on November 20th. Despite the strong early response it received, interest in the work gradually waned until a 1964 Stokowski recording of the work in its 1952-revised form reawakened interest. This fine rendering by Fagen and the Vienna RSO is its third recording.

Dawson's symphony entices the listener with its melodic richness, elegant transitions, and overall accessibility. The opening movement, “The Bond of Africa,” is characteristic of the work, rooted as it is in theme-and-development treatments of a “missing link” motif (representing in the composer's view the link “taken out of a human chain when the first African was taken from the shores of his native land and sent to slavery”) and a secondary theme based on the spiritual “Oh, My Littl' Soul Gwine-a Shine.” After a solo horn introduces the symphony dramatically, the movement advances thereafter with urgency, its motifs emerging in different guises over the course of its dozen minutes, the mood sometimes playful but always intense and Dawson's command of form, dynamics, and orchestration unfailingly evident.

The A-B-A design of the central “Hope in the Night” movement allows it to satisfy the roles an adagio and scherzo would play in a four-movement symphony, with the graceful yet ominous A section offset by the spirited B, which the composer intended to symbolize “the merry play of children yet unaware of the hopelessness beclouding their future.” Intermixing of the two sections follows, the material shifting from dark to light and back again, before the A returns with the funereal lurch of timpani and chimes accompanying the full orchestra and the “missing link” motif reiterated. Sorrow and hope sit shoulder-to-shoulder throughout the movement, the latter never wholly extinguished no matter how dire the circumstances. The title of the concluding “O, Le' Me Shine, Shine Like a Morning Star!” derives from the first of two spiritual tunes that make up its themes, the other “Hallelujah, Lord, I Been Down Into the Sea.” In keeping with the movement's title, the mood is generally sunny compared to the dramatic first and largely sombre second, and the material gains powerful momentum from Dawson's deployment of rhythmic drive and syncopation.

Kay was the more prolific of the two figures, with approximately 140 works to his name, including five operas, film and television scores, and orchestral pieces. In addition to composing, he taught music at several universities, including the Herbert H. Lehman College of the City University of New York where he enjoyed a two-decade tenure. The two works representing Kay on this release complement Dawson's superbly, both composers fashioning material that's adventurous yet accessible and rich in drama and melody.

Fantasy Variations (1963), which, like Negro Folk Symphony, opens with a solo horn figure, is interestingly structured in that the theme proper doesn't appear until the end, after an introduction and thirteen variations. In surfacing throughout (though not in every variation), that inaugurating four-note cell acts as a structural element that helps unify the work. The variations flow without breaks, but it's easy to identify the moments of transition by pronounced changes in orchestral texture, mood, and harmony. One of the work's more striking episodes occurs halfway through in a portentous strings-only presentation, and it also daringly moves between consonance and dissonance. The importance of that initiating four-note cell is shown by the fact that when the main theme does arrive, the figure forms part of its first seven notes.

Responding to a 1963 commission for a piece for the New Orleans Philharmonic Symphony, Kay recalled the time he spent in Italy as the winner of the 1949 'Prix de Rome' (his second time winning it) as the inspiration for Umbrian Scene. Though written to evoke the wonder and magic of his stay, the tone of the work is surprisingly sombre and its strings-heavy presentation lean. A brooding, almost cryptic tone surfaces too, so much so one could be forgiven for thinking of Bartok when Kay's slow, creeping lines advance. It's also, however, rich in counterpoint and tone clusters, plus exudes a rather timeless quality suited to the memories Kay drew upon of choral singing, old chapels, and ancient Italian districts. If this tone poem is darker and more enigmatic than one might expect given its title, it's no less impressive for being so.

July 2020