Giovanni Sgambati (1841-1914) is one of a small group of 19th century Italian composers who avoided opera in favor of a return to the earlier Italian instrumental tradition, with a strong nod to the German school as represented by Beethoven. Known as “The Italian Brahms”, Sgambati relied on strict classical models, something clearly evident in his Piano Concerto in G minor (1880), which roughly conforms to the outlines of Brahms’ own D minor concerto. But that’s where the similarity ends. The long Moderato Maestoso first movement gets under way rather indistinctly before the piano enters in a frenzied flourish, a rapidly ascending bravura passage that borders on the manic (and brings to mind John Adams’ Grand Pianola Music). That Liszt is Sgambati’s guiding light is soon made clear in the headlong style of the piano writing, and while his handling of the instrument is indeed arresting, I can’t say the same for what’s being played. Little of the melodic content is particularly inspired; instead it seems to function as mere structural support–musical beams and joists. Still, while there’s little in this massive concerto to get you humming or your toes-a-tappin’, you’ll no doubt be impressed by the grandiosity of it all.
Certainly impressive is Francesco Caramiello’s tackling of the sprawling piano part, especially his rendering of the jaunty, echt-Hungarian finale (with its intimations of Brahms’ Violin Concerto). The lengthy (20 minutes) Cola di Rienzo overture of 1866, possibly Sgambati’s first orchestral composition, bears the heavy influence of Mendelssohn. The overture was thought to be lost until conductor Fabrizio Ventura rediscovered it, and in that spirit he leads the Nuremberg Philharmonic through powerfully-paced performances of the entire program. After the above, it’s something of a shock to encounter the Berceuse-Rêverie (1909), a gentle lullaby of a piece featuring a hauntingly lovely tune that just won’t let you go. That it sounds like Grieg makes you wonder if Sgambati was not better as a miniaturist than otherwise. ASV’s recording absurdly overbalances the piano, making the orchestra sound Lilliputian in the concerto. The other works are afforded more realistic sound. Overall, the orchestral works are something you probably will want to hear only once, just for the thrill of it. But I won’t be parting with that lovely Berceuse-Rêverie anytime soon. That’s a keeper.
