Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov – Capriccio Espagnol (1887)

When I was first getting interested in classical [sic] music, I avoided what Michael Walsh calls “the Franco-Russian bonbon repertoire,” under the assumption that it would be lightweight and fluffy. But it turns out that Capriccio Espagnol is… OK, it’s lightweight and fluffy. Relatively enjoyable, not all that memorable, and at its best when it’s reminding me of other, better pieces. In particular, the fourth movement, “Scena e canto gitano” (“Scene and Gypsy Song”), is full of iv7-V progressions that make me think of Saint-Saëns’s Danse macabre (1872), and the last movement, “Fandango asturiano,” reminds me a bit of ländler passages from Mahler symphonies, with its 3/4 rhythm, folkish solo violin double stops, frequent flute trills, and heavy use of the triangle. And there’s certainly more to reward repeated listening in either of those than in the Capriccio — not to mention that I have a sentimental attachment to the Saint-Saëns because I used to spend a lot of time playing a Snood clone called Hexx II and one of the levels was accompanied by a MIDI version of it.

That said, the piece does support Rimsky’s reputation as an excellent orchestrator. I was struck especially by the opening of the fourth movement, because as I’ve said before, I normally find it boring when solo instruments play fast arpeggios without any harmonic change, but in this case I was totally there with the music, mainly because it’s clear that the pitches are just an excuse to show off a variety of timbre combinations. Between the initial fanfare — four horns and two trumpets, itself really nice sound — and the movement’s more rhythmic main section, there are a variety of cadenzas for melody instruments accompanied by a quiet tremolos on percussion instrument: violin and snare drum, flute and timpani, clarinet and cymbals, and most strikingly, harp and triangle. Another particularly effective passage happens in the last movement, when Rimsky reduces the texture from full winds and strings plus horns to a crystalline chamber ensemble: flute and one solo violin playing staccato and more or less in canon, accompanied by harp, pizzicato cellos, triangle and the occasional quiet oboe note. There are plenty of other nice orchestrational touches throughout the piece, too — though, strangely, the variation movement barely strays outside the forces that would have been available to Mozart, which hardly helps enliven its rather forgettable basic material.

So, pleasant enough piece. Not sure why it’s about a thousand times better known than the Bumcke sax quartet, but that’s the canon for you.