Szymon Marciniak & Jongsuk Kim: Lost Beauty
Solaire Records

Asked to name three Czech composers, the classical music listener might choose Antonin Dvorák, Bedrich Smetana, and Leoš Janácek. For double bassist Szymon Marciniak, however, it's František Cerný, František Hertl, and Karel Reiner who left an indelible personal mark and important legacy from which to draw. Partnering with pianist Jongsuk Kim on the seventy-six-minute Lost Beauty, Marciniak presents five works by the three artists and in doing so reminds us of the critical contributions they made to the double bass repertoire and classical music in general.

The project definitely qualifies as a labour of love for the double bassist. For years he'd been absorbing vinyl recordings by František Pošta and Serge Koussevitzky of the works and, suitably dazzled by their interpretations, eventually decided he'd record his own. Prior to the March 2024 studio dates, he and Kim presented the material live in a number of recitals, a smart move in that it allowed them to move beyond thinking about the mechanics involved in playing the pieces to reach that special place where the music seamlessly flowed through them.

Though Lost Beauty opens with the first of two Hertl (1906-73) pieces, it's with Cerný (1861-1940) that the story begins. He studied and played in Paris during its fashionable “Belle Epoque” period, and it's perhaps for this reason that the two standalones on the album, Danse des Satyres and Nocturne & Intermezzo, exemplify a rather salon-like character, even if they leave behind standard song structures to venture into freer realms. Danse des Satyres has its share of emphatic, dance-inducing moments, but there's romance and tenderness too, and it's the latter that make the piece so affecting. Consistent with its title, the enveloping Nocturne & Intermezzo opts for a dreamy, almost sultry presentation tinged with wistful longing. It's impossible to hear these performances without imagining the joy Marciniak must have felt in being a vessel for Cerný's artistry.

Hertl's probable future as a violinist was curtailed when Cerný, then a professor at the Prague Conservatory, discovered the young talent and persuaded him to take up the double bass. After studying with Cerný for a number of years, Hertl established himself as a player and composer, with the two pieces featured here emblematic of his early and late styles. Whereas Sonata for Double Bass and Piano was written during his middle years, Four Pieces for Double Bass and Piano arrived as his last major work for bass. The sonata engages quickly when Kim's sparkling Bösendorfer couples with the fluid flow of Marciniak's double bass. Bowing eloquently and expressively, he gives supple voice to Hertl's romantic material, but there's an occasional plucking passage too. As the “Allegro moderato” develops, the duo ventures down daring harmonic pathways, such a gesture anticipating the bold advances other composers will make in subsequent decades. While it's generally calmer by comparison (wait for its gorgeous resolution), the central “Andantino” isn't without agitation or its own propensity for bold harmonic exploration. The closing “Rondo (Alla polka, moderato)” lightens the mood with cheeky dance figures and a playful, at times mischievous feel, though Hertl also makes room for a lovely lyrical episode. Four Pieces for Double Bass and Piano might seem like the lesser work of the two, yet the intimate miniatures possess no small degree of charm and work surprisingly well as a suite. “Preludium” advances from ponderous to passionate to playful, after which “Burleska” serves up its own mischievous moves, the aching “Nokturno” laments with emotional intensity, and “Tarantella" reinstates the rousing tone of “Burleska” with another high-velocity display.

Of the three composers, it's Reiner (1910-79) who experienced first-hand the horrors of the Holocaust. The Czech/Jewish composer holds the distinction of being the only survivor of the group of Jewish composers who perished in the concentration camps of Theresienstadt, Ausschwitz, and Dachau. Post-WWII, he was forced by the Communist party to exclude from his works any trace of the avant-garde before returning to a more contemporary style around 1960. As his Sonata for Double Bass and Piano was written in 1957, it reflects that more conservative style. A connection to his colleagues arises here too, with Reiner having dedicated his sonata to “Professor František Hertl.” Nothing suggests the two met, but it's surmised that Reiner heard Hertl's sonata (as it was published a year earlier) and was inspired to create his own. A churning “Allegro energico” creates a sense of turbulence at the outset, with desperation and yearning never far away. Whereas the central “Poco grave” movement flirts with despair as it undertakes a slow crawl, the energized “Allegro vivo” suggests there's light at tunnel's end and, even when dealing with the most dire circumstances, room for hope.

November 2024