Guridi: Sinfonia Pirenaica

Over the last few weeks I've listened to a couple of things of Jesus Guridi, a Basque composer that, until very recently, had been completely unknown to me. His Homenaje a Walt Disney for orchestra and piano is an interesting work, difficult to pigeonhole. However, the Sinfonia Pirenaica (composed in 1945) I have listened to during the last two weeks is a whole different ball game. It is a stunning, 50-minute long work that has been unjustly neglected. I'd like to compare it to Schoeck's Violin Concerto which is another work that despite its undeniable qualities has not made it to the core repertoire.

Guridi's Sinfonia is an epic work, dressed in opulent orchestral colours and bearing witness of a forceful symphonic imagination. Despite occasional glimpses of Liszt, Rachmaninov and even Nielsen, the very obvious reference for me is Arnold Bax. If I would have had to listen blindly to this work, I would not have hesitated to consider it as an hitherto unknown part of the Brit's symphonic legacy. Guridi's particular way of shaping his themes, his dark orchestral palette in which the brass play a characteristically prominent role, the occasionaly spicy harmonies: all this adds up to the sense of mystery and wildness we find in Bax's work. In this oblique sense it can indeed be considered a 'mountain symphony' (in contrast with the emphatically programmatic take on the same subject by Strauss in his Alpine Symphony). 

There are three movements. The first is a weighty opening gambit that spans almost 20 minutes. It revolves around two themes: a darkly epic invention of decidedly Baxian cut and another bouncy theme of a more folksy nature. It speaks to Guridi's compositional powers that he is able to keep the musical process consistently interesting. In fact, that's an understatement because the level of invention is so consistently high that we remain spellbound throughout this fascinating and monumental symphonic allegro. The second movement is remarkable too. It starts with a jaunty tune presented on the clarinets which is developed into a series of colourful variations marked Presto ma non troppo. The middle part of the 14-minute movement (from 5'48" onwards) is a very lengthy but ravishing nocturnal interlude essentially built around a yearning melody introduced by the strings (supposedly inspired by plainchant). Around 10'30" it morphs into a jubilant, fortissimo statement: one of the symphony's most spellbinding moments. The finale - Allegro brioso - starts with a Rachmaninovian flourish. As in the first movement Guridi bounces two contrasting but related themes of one another. The tone is hymnic and celebratory, inviting the listener to sing or whistle happily along. There is a long and chillingly beautiful coda in which Guridi moves into the ethereal harmonic territory that Vaughan Williams mapped out in his London, Pastoral and Fifth symphonies.

Altogether the Sinfonia Pirenaica is a fascinating, unabashedly neo-romantic fresco of spine-tingling beauty. The Bilbao Symphony Orchestra under Juan José Mena play with absolutely superb commitment. The recording is quite good, if only a little bit resonant to my taste (it reminds me a little of the Chandos recordings of the late 1980s with the Scottish National Orchestra). A guy such as Dudamel would do good to dig a bit deeper into this kind of repertory rather than to prematurely try to shoulder a Bruckner or a Mahler Ninth.