Luís de Freitas Branco and his pupil, Joly Braga Santos, are the two most important Portuguese composers of the 20th century, and their achievement deserves far wider exposure than it has received until now. The reason for their neglect stems for Portugal's comparative isolation, politically as well as artistically, for much of this period. Had either of these composers been born in, say, England or the USA, we'd likely never hear the end of it. They are their country's Elgar and Vaughan Williams, Barber and Copland, and their music isn't one whit inferior.

Both of the Santos pieces, the ballet Encruzilhada (Crossroads) and Divertimento No. 1, have been recorded previously and are available on Marco Polo as part of its ongoing edition of the complete orchestral works. They are marvelous, instantly memorable pieces in which a haunting, Vaughan Williams-like modal melody rubs shoulders with some tangy, Bartókian dissonance, the folk-music inspiration supporting--but never overwhelming--the composer's personal idiom. Santos also was a marvelous orchestrator, with an instantly identifiable sound and rhythmic character (note his sensitive use of trumpets and percussion). To hear this music is to love it, as much for its subtle use of cyclical form as for its polished surfaces, and the performances are every bit as fine as their Marco Polo counterparts.

Branco's Violin Concerto, composed in 1916 and not performed in its entirety until 1940, is one of the most purely beautiful of all 20th century concertos. Its neglect is shocking. Every movement is thematically memorable, the big tune that opens the finale stunningly so. Scored for a standard Romantic orchestra of Brahmsian cast, the central andante includes an important part for harp, and it's so pretty that you may be tempted to go back and listen to it all over again right away. I did. The large outer movements include substantial cadenzas for the soloist, but the mood of the work is predominantly lyrical, and the use of cyclical form (the opening of the first movement returns at the very end) gives the exciting but rhapsodic finale just the right degree of structural cogency. In short: a masterpiece, and the composer was only 25 when he wrote it!

The work was recorded a couple of decades ago for Strauss records (a Portuguese label) in a performance that sounds quite different from this one. The Extremadura Symphony, in the current release, is basically a chamber orchestra, though it plays with a big sound and plenty of fire under conductor Jesús Amigo, which makes the group sound larger. I very much like the transparency of texture and ease of getting a good balance between soloist and orchestra, with no loss of impact at the climaxes. The earlier performance, featuring the Portuguese Radio (RDP) Symphony Orchestra, has a heftier string sonority and a bit softer rhythmic edge overall. The soloist in that performance, Vasco Barbosa, plays very well, but with a wiry edge to his tone that comes across as decidedly thin next to Da Costa's bigger, richer timbre.

Da Costa is without doubt a talent to watch, and he should be commended for selecting this unusual work as one of his first recordings. It's the kind of thing that young artists ought to be doing, particularly when they can deliver a performance of such remarkable passion and intensity. The excellent engineering is slightly brighter in the concerto than in the other two works, but vivid in both cases and entirely supportive of the involving interpretations. XXI-21 is a small Canadian label that obviously has a sensible and interesting artistic vision, and this superb release deserves to make a big splash among music lovers. It's exceptional. [7/29/2005]

--David Hurwitz