Wednesday, November 22, 2017
We hear the unsullied purity of pianistic means that Komitas embodies so well on Lusine Grigoryan's recorded solo debut Seven Songs (ECM New Series 2514), which follows on the heels of Grigoryan and the Gurdjieff Ensemble's folk instrument Komitas renditions (ECM New Series 2451) that I happily covered when it came out.
The Komitas we hear on the present collection has a directness yet a well conceived pianism that makes full use of the inventively long melodic paths that wind their way through the music in minor diatonic freshness that in a very Armenian way contrasts with the Mid-Eastern and Eastern European raised seventh, harmonic vertically gestural minor modes we are used to hearing.
Five compositional groupings grace the program on the CD. It shows a Komitas firmly expository of Armenian essence, mostly simple but never facile, demanding a poetic interpretation Ms. Grigoryan provides with consistency and real eloquence. Thus we are treated to ideal renditions of the title collection "Seven Songs" plus "Maho Shoror," "Seven Dances," "Pieces for Children" and "Toghik."
The inspiration and melodic unfolding never flag. Lusine handles it all with a sparkling luminescence.
For all folk-classical minor mode aficionados, all lovers of things Armenian, all who love Komitas this is essential fare. Truly lovely!
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
Part of this has to do with a contemporary musical stance that appreciates a bare, unadulterated solo intimacy that contrasts with the past emphasis on making an unholy din in a world of giganticism, though of course that possibility is not so much in eclipse as it is now more emphatically one way of expression among many. Silvestrov's contemporary solo cello music is a great example of the micro-ensemble currency that thrives today. See yesterday's review of that music on this blog. Of course solo piano music has been ever in demand among classical listeners since its advent, but the solo string instrument seems ever more an object of heightened interest and acceptance.
The very latest recording of Bach's Suites, beautifully performed by cellist Thomas Demenga (ECM New Series 2 CD: 2530/31), realizes the full scope of the multiple movement music in ways that help raise the bar for flowing, singingly lyrical yet briskly robust versions. The full artistry of the cello solo has never been quite so apparent as here. This performance is not merely a kind of lab for aspiring cellists as it is a totally realized, deeply living and breathing art form for anybody and everybody who wishes to be uplifted by the master composers of our heritage. I have reviewed on these pages one or two other recordings of the Suites that reach similar heights, but all in all this current set has a consistency that is hard to match.
Demenga previously recorded the Suites for the ECM New Series between 1986 and 2002, interspersed with contemporary works for cello. This second look at the music is served as it were full strength and gives Demenga the chance to delve ever deeper into the full possibilities of expression the Suites offer to a master interpreter.
He very much rises to the occasion with a sort of inner insight into the music that is most rare. Yes, he is technically flawless at all times, yet this is no mere platform for cello artistry. It uncovers the kind of flowing inevitability of each movement with a conviction and an inner comprehension that sets these performances apart from the merely engaged performances we might hear today.
The phrasings come alive with just the right amount of rubato to heighten the gestural impact, but never to lose sight of the connectivity of Bach's musical language. Those movements that demand concentrated forward momentum both sing and drive ahead with exciting energy and poise. Those that are more contemplative linger with thoughtful emphases.
Demenga's deeply rich, beautifully full woody tone comes across from the first bars of the music to the very end. Manfred Eicher captures it wonderfully well, so that the whole affirms a melding of cello timbral depth and musical affirmation.
If you can only have one version of Bach's perennial music, this could well be it. It would be my choice right now. Those who feel good about gathering a number of contrasting versions in the personal stacks might well choose this one too, as a synthetic marvel.
Monday, November 20, 2017
Silvestrov is a composer most acutely aware of the sonic possibilities that are limited only by his fertile imagination, so that this music is expansive and deeply resonant, ambient yet focused on the notes themselves as well as harmonics and other careful interweavings of extended and more standard techniques. He may see himself as a kind of "coda" to music history. Yet we who listen feel the march of time, a moving forward in the music that may bring with it some of the luggage of the past, yet the trip is not at all backwards. It is moving ahead.
Silvestrov began his composing career as an avowed high modernist in Soviet Russia (despite general governmental hostility to such things), then came to realize that "the most important lesson of the avant-garde was to be free of all preconceived ideas--including those of the avant-garde." And so in time his music evolved into what he calls his "metaphorical style," or "meta-music." Sometimes that involves a conversation of the present with the past.
Yet in these works for single and duo cello there are concentric gestural focal points that continually move forward with a poetic deliberation. Lechner and then Lechner and Vesterman bring determined clarity and perfect execution to the atmospherics that are understandably greatly heightened by Manfred Eicher's sympathetically complementary sound staging. Lechner notes that the solo pieces especially play with the idea of two alternate musical personas that engage one against the other like shadow and light. Throughout this program the one out of the two feeling can show its forward momentum to the deep listener in time. It did for me. So I think for you, also.
The duo works are written as if for one extended cello, or cello "four hands," where the interlocking parts sound together closely as one expanded voice in space. "2.VI.1810. . . zurn Geburtstag R. A. Schumann" evokes a would-be lockstep, harmonically anchored allusion to the music of Schumann's making but as if heard across the vast distance of time, a ghostly vision, a rubato that transmits as if a short wave radio signal emanating from far away, a there-not-there mist of sound more than a real-time presence. This is musical poetics of a high order.
One could go on at greater length about the impact of each work. The liner notes to the album wax on about such things perhaps far better than my distanced connection to this remarkable music can do. I have perhaps the disadvantage of dis-local participation with such music, yet my distance I do believe helps me evaluate how such music sounds to the well-tempered listener not conjoined in the everyday discourse of the emanation points. So when I feel the magic inherent in this music and its considerably focused and inspired performance, it is I hope what you may well also feel as part of the relational yet distanced ears of the world.
So for all you potential listeners out there, whether you love the cello and its many sound worlds as I do, or you are neutral and primarily seeking out music that is worthwhile, Silvestrov and his extraordinarily accomplished cello playing concretizers give you a world of true magic on this one. After a short time you start forgetting how much has gone into making this recording so compelling and instead enter another universe of human sound and the associative thoughts those sounds give rise to. It is as of you have become immersed in the middle of a super musical particle collider where YOU become happily penetrated with sublime aurality. Really.
Stunning music in any case. Adopt these works into your musical family, by all means. Strongly recommended.
Friday, November 17, 2017
The trio instrumentalists are put through their paces and handle the complexities with assurance and exceptional musicianship, so that the core of the music comes through with a speech-like naturalness, with phrasings that work together for a cohesive horizontal and vertical logic that is clear and directionally artful.
Longleash is named after the CIA Cold War program known as Operation Long Leash, which was dedicated to disseminating US avant garde works throughout Europe. Of course the name illustrates the ambiguity of the functional presence of the avant movement in modern society. The trio is comprised of Pala Garcia on violin, John Popham on cello and Renate Rohlfing on piano. They according to the liners are "inspired by music with an unusual sonic beauty, an inventive streak, and a truthful cultural voice."
That is surely true of the works on this album and Longleash rises to the occasion with superbly musical interpretations. None of the composers are exactly household names, but each provides music that together forms a cohesive whole as to general approach while each showing true inventive individuality.
So there is real substance and serious aural remapping of the trio terrain with the program at hand. It begins with Christopher Trapani's "Passing Through, Staying Put," and from there we hear Clara Iannotta's "Il colore dell'ombra," Yukiko Watanabe's "ver_flies_sen," Juan de Dios Magdaleno's "Strange Attractors," and finally Francesco Filidei's "Corde Vuote." We may seemingly be a great distance from Haydn's Piano Trios and indeed we are. Yet the idea of such a configuration as a viable constant remains.
The color capabilities of each instrument as well as the ensemble as a whole is primary to this lively and very musically progressive collection of trio works. Longleash brings us exemplary performances one could hardly imagine being bettered and in the process allows us to hear just how exciting and ear-opening modern chamber music can be.
Passage is indeed an avenue, a path, an opening into the latest New Music for Piano Trio and though perhaps not destined for mass consumption, even if it should be, is a real triumph for both Longleash and the composers involved. I recommend it highly.
Thursday, November 16, 2017
This is a extraordinarily well knit and adventuresome ensemble. For this new album they devote their attention to Nordic folk forms, specially created arrangements of elaborate folk fiddling and songful artfulnesses, some going back countless eons, whether Christmas tunes or dance fare. There is a unity of mood and purpose in the entire program overall, one that shows the Quartet to have notable virtuoso abilities and a beautiful tone blend born of the sensitive adjustment of instrumentalist to instrumentalist. Added to the string mix is a bit of doubling, on harmonium, contrabass, piano, glockenspiel to add color as appropriate. That and the extended existence of the Quartet as a unit gives us a tightly hewed consonance that is singularly beautiful.
So "The Last Leaf" refers to the very oldest secular song-melody that still exists in the Nordic folk stratum of possibilities. "Dromte mig en drom (I had a Dream)" turned up on the very last leaf of the Codex Runicus parchment dating back to circa 1300. That and a 1732 Danish Christmas hymn "Now Found is the Fairest of Roses" are foundational musical parts of this collection-re-creation.
And as you listen to the many disparate folk numbers a unified aesthetic unity comes out of it all. It is an album that reveals itself increasingly on further listens, like Russian eggs nested in eggs. In this way the Danish String Quartet creates a program that respectfully explores folk terrain as it transforms it into quartet music, in a re-creative act that takes it all further beyond itself without losing the fresh charm of its reiterative venerability, something new emerging from a misty, not really hoary past.
In the best of some aspects of the ECM stance, it brings folk forms to new life as something contemporary and ambiently luscious, verdant, like an unspoiled rural landscape that survives and changes over a long period of time while retaining its original striking quality. Enthusiastic kudos to the Danish String Quartet and Manfred Eicher for bringing to us this beautiful music.
Wednesday, November 15, 2017
This Vespers contrasts with the more famous 1610 work by Monteverdi, which I have covered on these pages (type Monteverdi in the search box above for that). The work in consideration today has its own merits. Five of the 14 movements were written by others, namely Rigatti, Neri and Guadi.
Nonetheless the music has genuine charm. And it is not inferior so much as it is not quite as illustrious as the 1610 Vespers. The Sixteen's recording of that is slightly more essential than this rendition of the 1650. Yet Roland Wilson's performances of the 1610 with La Capella Ducale and Musica Fiata has all the period authenticity one might ask for.
Any Monteverdi enthusiast will find this recording very much to their liking I think. Anyone coming to this period and/or composer for the first time will get something fully representative and foundational for future explorations. Go ahead!
Friday, November 10, 2017
A very happy exception is the recent release of Anna Magdalena Kokits' recording of some of his Solo Piano Pieces (Capriccio 5293). These are a choice selection of works from the interwar years (1923-1931), when he changed his essentially romantic approach to a very contemporary one, mostly post-tonal or marginally tonal, filled with an energetic brilliance and sounding not quite like any other. His father was Jewish and the Fascism of the war years undoubtedly played a part in what has ended up as relative obscurity for him. I do not know the full details. Wikipedia tells of his exile to the United States, his involvement in Hollywood film scoring, teaching, a Pulitzer Prize for his Third Symphony and a return to the romantic style. None of this should detain us for now. The music on the current album speaks eloquently without need for further biographical details.
From the opening bars of the first work, "Burlesques" (1923), we know we are in the presence of a special sensibility. Chromatic and bitter-sweet, it is a distinctive and very pianistic world we enter, neither quite Hindemithian nor beholden to the Second Viennese School. The atonality in this period of Toch is a relative one, since one might ultimately tie down what one hears to a key center. And some of the music is unabashedly tonal. There is a great deal more to it though than some close or distant holding to a key or a tonal gravitation.
And that comes out in the phrasing and flow of the works, brought out so well in Ms. Kokits' performances. They are extraordinarily artful, inspired and original.
The seven compositional forays represented on the album range from the relatively simple "Ten Etudes for Beginners" (1931) to the ambitious "Piano Sonata" (1928). The numerous collations of miniatures in the set show us an incisive side, an inventive wealth. Some might be viewed illuminatingly as a sort of Austrian Satie in playful creative mood, others decidedly have some more Austrian elements, in a kind of modern position on the piano tradition going back to the classical masters yet only as if ghosted and transformed. The longer form works expand the conversational musical syntax appropriately.
With the first listen and subsequent ones, the impression of an original musical mind at work remains constant. This particular grouping of Ernest Toch stands out as defining a 20th century figure much more than an "also ran." The album beguiles and intrigues without fail. Please consider this one seriously. Any student of the flowering of last century in its modern efflorescence will hear another fine voice in the din of competing possibilities. Do listen.
Thursday, November 9, 2017
Seven works grace the program, each a world unto itself. There is an expansive modernism at play along with a certain mystical poetic quality at times. I also detect a Jewish-Russian Orthodox melodic element on occasion, sometimes not pronounced and quite subtle, other times more overt in keeping with the associative extra-musical theme.
You can hear the more modernistic side on "'Inscriptions On A Bamboo Screen,' Series 4 for Soprano and Viola." There is an expressionist edge to be heard on this one and sometimes in the others.
The contrast between the above and the more intimate, searching quality of "'Hoffmanniana' Series 3 for Solo Cello in 4 Movements" is instructive.
With the more fuller instrumentation of something like "'Inner Temple' Volume 1 Series 11 'Shabbat Nigunim' in 4 Movements'" we find tone-color beauty and a kind of inner spiritual yearning. Perhaps not surprisingly Ms. Cohen brings in a Jewish minor melodic element that has a kind of brilliant presence in the modernistic matrix. I love it.
In all this makes for a strongly individual contemporary program. Ms. Cohen is not afraid to let her expressive needs take her far beyond a formalism or the sort of methodological rigor that we became used to in classic serialism. Those "scientistic" days may mostly be forever gone. Ms. Cohen occupies a healthy present. She uses modern means to embody ideas and feelings. And she does it in her own way.
The music is richly meaningful and memorable. Anyone with a taste for new music will find it worth an extended visit and I hope a good number of return trips. Recommended.
Wednesday, November 8, 2017
This morning I once again put on a good one, while I gathered my thoughts about what I heard. What is it? It is Fernando Sor (1778-1839) and his Songs for Voice and Guitar (Naxos 8.573686) as very nicely brought to our ears by mezzo-soprano Nerea Berraondo and classical guitarist Eva Beneke.
Sor in his day was a major virtuoso among guitarists. His songs have an earthy beauty that make them essential, yet they are not often performed now. So lucky for us the recording playing for me again this morning can be enjoyed whenever we like.
Music like this, or even all music like anything, needs performance magic to bring it alive. Something as delicately balanced as voice and guitar music demands special performance care. We get it in Nerea Berraondo's very musical voice, with a bit of heft when needed but never Wagnerian in its intensity, tender and rousing in turn, seemingly recorded without overly close miking so that she does not overpower Eva Beneke's wonderfully nuanced guitar work.
As to the music itself, there is much in the way of very melodically vibrant and ornate songwork here. "Italian Arias" include a few from Mozart's Don Giovanni. They have genuine but imaginatively altered authenticity as beautifully worked re-scorings. The "Spanish Songs," quite a good number of them, are strong and most characteristic--and irresistible. The "French Songs" add another dimensional strength and a couple of "Spanish Patriotic Songs" end the program with a captivating verve.
This is one of those delightful surprises where I had no set idea what to expect and then found with exposure that I had grabbed onto some of the finest music and performances that I didn't know I wanted until I heard it all! Like meeting someone who ends up being a good friend in a seemingly unlikely place, I treasure it all the more for the vistas it has opened up without my being quite prepared for it.
Anyone who loves Spanish classical and/or the guitar heritage will welcome this disc. It feels just right as a listening choice any time or season. Highly recommended.
Monday, November 6, 2017
A strong dirge-like grief is present in various ways throughout. Modern traces of Penderecki and Gorecki are forebears in the programmatic and often emotional intensity of these. The music is for small string groupings. The title work (2005) is for electronics and Emily Ondracek-Peterson on violin. The Voxare String Quartet are the principals on the other works: "String Quartet No. 1 'Songs of Forgiveness'" (2010), "String Quartet No. 2 'Grandfather Songs'" (2011) and "A Usnijze mi, usnij (Lullaby: Sleep for me, sleep)" (2012).
The "Blood, Forgotten" work is a heartbreaking, haunting combination of sorrowfully expressive violin and eerie electronics. The violin has doubled and tripled lines in the electronic track and there are other gestural electronic punctuations.
Nowakowski's First Quartet has some of the more energetic music of the four. There is much to hear in the agitated section, and then the dirgely slow blocks of stark, open chords make for a distinct lamenting mood that we hear often enough in most of this music.The blocks can resolve into the related slow speech of a four-way counterpoint, too. And it all works together.
Think of Barber's famous "Adagio" and Gorecki's most popular symphony (No. 3), then add some of the dramatic depictive expressivity of earlier Penderecki, mix it all up and then include Nowakowski's very original way and that may help give you an idea of how the music sounds. Deep down all of this relates obliquely to Beethoven's "Funeral March" from Eroica. And also the regret of Beethoven late quartets at times. And so there are strands of belonging to a continuum of sad expressions. Yet this is Nowakowski. Make no mistake.
It all fits together as pieces of a larger style-puzzle that is moving and irrepressible. This music demands you enter into it on its own terms. If you do there is singularity and undeniable modern musicality. It is the opposite of Webern. There is no short hot potato pointillism, but instead a long, sprawling, endless block of anguish transcended by the beauty of how the music lays out.
The continually blowing wind of new music to hear requires that we point our aeolian wind harp in the direction of the oncoming blasts. We then must listen and see how it resonates with our receptive "strings." Any new music requires this, and ideally we must let it blow into our harp-like heads a number of times before we grasp what it IS. That is the case with these rather deep Nowakowski musing laments. It is good. The performances are excellent. The music special. Listen.
Friday, November 3, 2017
The sound quality is not quite audiophile level. What matters is that we get a faithful representation of what these symphonies are about.
Jones began composing early in life and in youth established a friendship with Dylan Thomas. The two collaborated on a number of poems. Jones ended up getting his BA and MA in English. His MA thesis was on Elizabethan poetry, and his ancillary exposure to the music of that period influenced his melodic conception, so says the liner notes. He studied composition and conducting (with Harry Farjeon and Sir Henry Wood) at the Royal Academy of Music. His recognition as a composer first came in 1950 with his "Symphonic Prologue." Thereafter he gained attention and amassed a sizable number of works in all genres as well as conducting.
Symphony No. 2 was completed in 1950 and is a longish, ambitious work clocking in at nearly 44 minutes. It has a modern edge to it but hearkens back in some ways to Neo-Romantic expression, more extroverted than some and edgier than Elgar. And there surely are brilliant moments and an attractively wayward individuality.
Symphony No. 11 is shorter, more compact and shows an increasing originality and orchestrational flair.
He was no rabid modernist but neither would either symphony be mistaken for an earlier period work. He was of his time. And sure of his direction from the 1950 work as well as the later symphony from 1983.
Any musical Anglophile will be well served by this volume. It shows us a Daniel Jones who travelled a path of his own, emotive and drenched in Romantic symphonic tradition, yet speaking to his era. Well worth hearing.
Thursday, November 2, 2017
Stanford (1852-1924) is not as well remembered today as compared with his stature in England during his lifetime. He is perhaps best celebrated nowadays for his choral works. The music for piano shows a rather different aspect of his music. Like Chabrier in France, Stanford produced a body of piano music not really neo-Romantic, not exactly neo-Classical, not much dependent upon great flashy technical skill, but rather a kind of pure musicality that is by no means harmonically advanced but straightforward, no mere trifles by any standard. It is what you might call a combination of Salon and Pedagogic music, but none of it has a pretentious or highly sentimental outlook.
What you do hear is very English, some miniature stately pomp, lightheartedly tuneful ditties, and pastoral, rustic folksy-tinged works which no doubt Vaughan-Williams and Holst gained from as a prefiguration of what they more fully developed.
Like with the first volume there is an unexpectedly disarming quality to the whole. It does not pretend to a ponderous importance and by so doing brings nonetheless delightful piano music that neither seems quite dated nor does it fully transcend its era.
And in that way we intersect with some worthwhile music. Volume Two forms a perfectly enjoyable counterpart to the inaugural volume. I will return with my take on the final volume three in a little while. Meanwhile these are a bit of a surprise treat!
Wednesday, November 1, 2017
The works featured are Anasa (2011) for clarinet and orchestra, True Colors (2012) for trumpet and orchestra, and Unforgettable (2009 rev. 2013) for two violins and orchestra.
"Anasa" with David Krakauer as the clarinet soloist begins the program on a lively note with a thoroughly klezmerized score that Krakauer dominates over with stylistic acumen and authenticity. There is much charm and dance-like immediacy. The subtle interweaving of orchestral density and overarching klezmer clarinet expressivity wins me over easily.
"True Colors" opens on a suspended mysterioso mood with much variation in hues from the orchestra and a more directly modern sound. Trumpetist Eric Berlin enters with surety, dexterity and a full tone. The music gathers momentum and trumpet gains a semi-jazzish stance while the orchestra explores variational or ostinato imitative motive cells and harmonically full thematics with bell-like reflective moodiness.
"Unforgettable" continues and deepens the mood with a searching and probing kind of meditative modern mode that makes excellent and unexpected use of the two violin soloists (Luosha Fang and Eunice Kim), who alternate between tightly woven interactions of virtuosity and a bottom-up continuation of the melodic thrust of the orchestra. The sort of "remember me" reflectiveness has a vague resemblance in mood to Berg's "Violin Concerto" yet never trespasses directly on that concerto's set domain. It is the most moving of the three works, drawing a fitting conclusion to the program.
Tsontakis brings to us a well structured middle-ground modern series of tone poems that bear up under the familiarity of repeated return aural visits. Performances are uniformly good. The three concerted works show depth, subtlety and a visceral immediacy. Tsontakis has his own voice yet fits in well with the US school of melodically lyrical-depictive composers of the past 100 years. A fine listen!
Monday, October 30, 2017
John Cage is rightly given the credit for inventing the prepared piano, the practice of placing tone-altering objects between or on top of the strings of a grand piano. His music in this realm revolutionized the sonic possibilities, creating a kind of percussion orchestra that both recalled and transcended non-Western structures and gave avant garde new music a new direction that in part stays with us today. His Sonatas and Interludes for Prepared Piano (1946-4) gave us his most elaborate and satisfying work in this realm, and it still enjoys world-wide renown.
Others have taken up writing and working with prepared piano configurations. Enter Warsaw born and based composer, pianist and painter Dutka and his six part series of impromptus for prepared piano collectively entitled Whale's Teeth (DUX 1379).
The piano is prepared from natural objects, mostly in the lower half of the instrument. Like Cage's pioneering work, most of the music has a pronounced rhythmic drive, taken often in the form or ostinatos and variations on them in the lower register with the right hand providing counter-rhythmic figures and melodic runs that have at times an avant jazz flavor, other times a ritual primality.
All comes at us loosely, with an improvisational spontaneity yet a coherent roadmap guiding the direction of each. It is music that extends the implication of Cage's legacy without being overly derivative.
It is a program both provocative and enjoyable--not necessarily some huge breakthrough but filled with rhythmic presence and a sound color palate alternatingly and simultaneously both bright and dark. A lively and stimulating listen!
Friday, October 27, 2017
Georgy Sviridov, Russia Adrift, Snow is Falling, Music for Chamber Orchestra, Choirs, St Petersburg State Symphony Orchestra
Sviridov had Shostakovich as his compositional mentor. Yet happily the three works on the present compilation show a musical mind with its own sense of melodic tonal-modern momentum. There is a lyric gift there to hear, without doubt. And an essentially Russian dramatic quality to this music can be readily heard throughout.
"Snow is Falling" (1965) begins the program on a charmingly disarming note. Sing-songy folkish playfulness (such as sometimes you can hear in Orff) wins the day with a tenderly expressive part for women's chorus and a dreamy orchestral carpet like a blanket of new fallen snow.
"Music for Chamber Orchestra" (1964) has a decisive interlocking dialog between piano and orchestra. There is a motility that suggests a lineage going back to Shostakovich, Prokofiev and Stravinsky without the derivative musical syntax that might entail.
"Russia Adrift" (1977/2016) enjoys its recorded debut in the mezzo-soprano and orchestra version masterfully realized by Leonid Rezetdinov. It is epic and wondrously deep, with a long and ruminating opening and a heartfelt songfulness mezzo-soprano Mila Shkirtil gives to us with a perfectly artful and moving sonance. She is a wonder. Kathleen Ferrier comes to mind, yet only in association, not that the two sound alike. The orchestral part is equally apt and resonant.
And so that is what is in the offing with this release. I must say I am very pleasantly surprised and in the end very comfortable wearing this music on my ears. It is like Fridays can be. A return to the power of the space and time of something that reaches out and transforms while giving great pleasure.
This is music that with wear becomes like a favorite pair of flannel pajamas. Ever better. Hear it!
Thursday, October 26, 2017
This is not neo-romantic beauty so much as it is English, sometimes slightly rustic and slightly plaintive post-impressionist sturdiness.
Ralph Vaughan Williams starts things off with "Five Songs from 'Songs or Travel" (transcribed for viola and piano) and his "Romance for Viola and Piano."
Rebecca Clarke, a composer seemingly undergoing a pronounced resurgence, makes a splash with "Sonata for Viola and Piano," something a bit more formal and ambitious but equally evocative.
Benjamin Britten has the last say with his "Third Suite for Cello" transcribed for viola and wonderfully well done by Ms. Nisbeth. The final "Lachrymae for Viola and Piano" tops all off with completely striking affective fare.
Nisbeth has ravishing tonal breadth that runs from achingly sweet to dramatically dark. She is ever in control, phrasing like an angel or singing with rough passion. The five works on the recital disc seem especially made for the gamut of her lyric spectrum of expression. And there is a very Englishness to the works which reminds us why last century was such a fertile one for the region, filled with remarkable composing talents.
With the final notes we feel as if we have been transported to a rare musical place where lyric strength and fragility is given near ideal, long shrift. Nesbeth and Forsberg seem born to this music. And the selection of works hang together with a complete fittingness.
Remarkable music, remarkably played.
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
I've encountered the opportunity to review another version, a recording like the old mono LPs from 1953, again with the Metropolitan Opera cast, this time with conductor Fritz Reiner (Datum DAT90003 2-CD). It is a live recording but a well handled performance with no egregious gaffs. It would appear from the date it was recorded that (thanks to Wikipedia) this must have been the World Premiere perfomance of the fully staged opera?
The opera has a sell your soul to the devil theme like "A Soldier's Tale." But as Hogarth's celebrated engravings on the Rake and his downfall are the basis of the plot, it is general worldly success and good luck with women that are the Devil's end of the bargain. In the end though Nick the Shadow wreaks havoc.
This version has much going for it. The live versus the "studio" version and Stravinsky's direct conducting of the latter version means that orchestral parts perhaps have slightly more "bite" and polish on the old Columbia disks. But the overall trajectory of the whole is well served in either version. The cast is virtually the same. Eugene Conley as Tom Rakewell and Mack Harrell as Nick the Shadow especially distinguish themselves on both recordings.
I see on the web that the original Columbia LPs have been available on Naxos as a CD set, and perhaps still are. If so that version may have the slight edge. Nevertheless the Reiner version is very good. The live version may have the edge for the vocals in terms of performativity. The Naxos excels on the orchestral end. For Stravinsky die-hards both versions and some later ones as well may appeal to you. I am glad to have the two.
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
Instruments in single or clustered outbursts make a tightly woven whole out of intricate instrumental entrances and exits, and the timbral contrasts that affords. Nothing is lacking in the four works represented. And the instrumentation varies slightly or radically to keep our ears refreshed. "D'amor la vecchia canzone" (2010) makes use of flute or clarinet plus violin, cello, piano and electronics for a sequencing that is bracing and conflates in good ways the sensibilities of new music and avant jazz without alluding to quotation.
"Resonating Body" (2016) is scored for flute and bass clarinet, both doubling on slide whistle, along with violin, cello, piano and percussion. "While" (2016) features flute, clarinet and bass clarinet, cello, piano and percussion. Finally "nachinander" (2016) is for a single "Jack of all trades" percussionist.
The ensemble under the direction of the composer grabs on to the essence of each work and delivers powerfully. Esposito shows great poise and balance in these modern gems. They all have something to do with Joyce's Ulysses. I will leave you to the liners and your ears to uncover that. The liners also posit a relationship to this music and the pathfinding Nuova Consonanza, which I agree is there and has to do with an avant jazz-new music nexus one relishes from start to finish. Suffice to say that this is one of those essential modernist forays in our current situation.
It satisfies and stimulates. Excellent! All new music devotees will want this one in their collection.
Monday, October 23, 2017
Asyla, Tevot, Polaris (LSO 0798) and the brief "Brahms" canvas an enchanting and stirring terrain that tightly knits original content with brilliant orchestral apportioning. One feels with all of this music that Ades is in his element, that there feels like there is a one-to-one relationship between musical ideas and how they are shaped by the orchestral mass.
"Polaris (Voyage for Orchestra)" (2010) explores, in Ades' own words, "the use of star constellations for naval navigation and the emotional navigation of the absent sailors and what they leave behind." It is a deeply spacial and ghostly panorama that pits brass choirs off stage with myriads of rapidly moving but quietly articulating points of musical light. All twelve tones are utilized with three poles of magnetic pitch centers holding sway one by one. It is as if the vivid night sky reminds us of the sailors who have left us on a journey no longer dependent on currents and oceanic spans.They now are within those constellations, journeying forward outside of our standard accessible material world? Maybe.
Brahms (2001) is a brief homage to what Ades refers to as the logic of Brahms' music, as aside from the warmth and beauty of it. Samuel Dale Johnson on baritone presents an expressive text atop an orchestral atmospheric.
Backtracking to the opening "Asyla" (1997), it centers around places of safety, of confinement, of last resort, away from a mad world. They are epitomized by the concert hall and the presence of orchestra, a place where "we feel at home, or where we once felt at home." There is something remaining of the madness of life present in the score, a holding in place and aestheticization of the danger outside, a cultural domestication. The music is pointed, colorful, and resituated within itself in ways that evoke the refuge and the thing from which we flee, if I can take the liberty of my own reading of it all.
"Tevot" (2005-6) is effectively Ades' second symphony, based on the Hebrew "tevot" which means both the bars in a musical score and words. In the Bible it refers to Noah's Ark and the reed basket fashioned by Moses' mother to take him down the Nile, in both cases places of refuge, structures made of "firm materials." Ades conceived of these complexes of meanings in a totality, where the bars of music act as vessels for the music and its journey through fluid danger. The music creates organic periodic repeating and variational snippets bordered by bar lines. It is ingeniously structured and fashioned, containers and their contained. Brilliant in its immediacy and parcelling out. It is that.
So we have the sum of what we most willingly hear on this new collection of Ades' works. Each is striking, seemingly inevitable yet paradoxically surprising in its individual outcome. Ades is like that. You get what you have every reason to expect, but in that getting you are moved into the realm of the unexpected.
The CD comes in two versions on two discs, the standard two-channel CD audio version and the multiple voiced BluRay.
Either way this is extraordinary music, landmark-scapes of richly varied orchestral sense. Get it by all means!
Friday, October 20, 2017
The tone is set decidedly with Arthur Gottschalk's "Imagenes de Cuba," a chamber work based upon the familiar "Peanut Vendor" theme. From there we have the always absorbing John A. Carollo and his "In Your Hour of Need," a wonderful piece that combines Cuban rhythmic roots with a freewheeling new music attitude. The results are uncanny yet decidedly right.
We go from there to another five works, all interesting and at times surprisingly unexpected, such as Meira Warshauer's two Jewish-tinged amalgamates, "Akhat Sha'alti" and "Oseh Shalom." Further on we have notable contributions by J.A. Kawarsky, Miguel Matamoros & Moises Simons, and Mona Lyn Reese.
It all makes creative use of the frisson that can result when cultural intersections connect with creative symmetry and contrast.
A very rich and rewarding experience can surely be had with the program. Viva!
Leo Ornstein, Complete Violin Sonatas, Hebraic Fantasy, Three Flute Pieces, Francesco & Stefano Parrino, Maud Renier
His music nevertheless still speaks to us. Some of it is tonal and late romantic, some of it daring and boldly dissonant. In the recent Complete Violin Sonatas (Brilliant Classics 95079) we get both Ornstein styles, the modern iconoclast and the romantic lyricist. The soaring violin component is a constant, the piano element determining largely which of the two creative poles are dominant in any moment, and sometimes, as in the "Hebraic Fantasy," there is an uncanny commingling of both elements and Jewish tonality with a decidedly expressive flourish.
We hear his two published Sonatas, the Hebraic Fantasy and an Op. Posth. Third. It gives us a long listen to how he looked at the violin-piano totality. And then as a bonus we also get "Three Pieces for Flute and Piano," which takes flight in a middle ground halfway between the avant and the romantic.
And in all of it the modernist and the expressionist are at the forefront, neither the one nor the other having absolute reign. And there is the Jewish-folk element present, too. The performances are uniformly excellent. It is a valuable addition to the Ornstein discography. It may not be a demonstration disc for his radical modernist side, but then again it gives us a balanced look at his overall thrust and appeals uniformly as good music. Recommended.
Thursday, October 19, 2017
He was a student of Taneyev and studied piano at the Moscow Conservatory. A severe bout with mental illness undermined his health. The pilgrimage put the final punctuation on his life. But he left behind a bold and daring series of piano works, some remarkable examples of which can be heard as played with zeal and precision by Ekaterina Derzhavina on this fine volume.
The first bars of his first opus "Zwolf Skizzen" let us know we are in for something unusual. Sorabji or Alkan come to mind, not so much as an imitation as a parallel. Then there is Mussorgsky, surely. The rest of the pieces in this startling opening salvo bear out the first impression. This is a remarkable late romantic kind of modernism that must have startled its hearers even more than it does our modern listening selves. More than 100 years later, however, we nevertheless sense we are in the presence of a unique musical voice.
The "Praeludium," "Erste Sonate," and "Lieder ohne Worte" confirm our first encounter. Often enough there is a thoroughly "conventional" Lisztian overwrap of rhapsodic effusiveness to be heard. But even then the actual sequences can startle for the unexpected progressions or melodic directions the music takes. And that veneer can strip away and you get another look at a musical mind that strikes boldly out on then untrodden paths. As the liner notes state about the sonata, there is a "distinct predilection for the juxtaposition of diatonic modes [instead of the customary development of chromatic harmonies]." Yes, and how they sequence is not expected either. Chords in fourths, even, but not like Scriabin. There are all kinds of things in this music that set it apart. Yet it reflects the veneer of the grand romantic piano tradition, too, when that seems appropriate. Unexpectedly, always.
The sessions come from 2004 and 2005, so my guess is this has been released before? It makes no difference. This is a revelation. Stanchinsky, had he lived, could have taken us into another universe of possibilities. Yet there is plenty to hear already in his short life's output. Ives went his very own way in the US. In Russia Stanchinsky was going somewhere bold, too. He was cut short. Thankfully we have this volume to savor. Stanchinsky may have been a well kept secret. We can now let this music out in the open. Let it breathe. Thank you, Ms. Derzhavina for giving us these beautiful performances. Thank you, Stanchinsky for your short life and its music!
Wednesday, October 18, 2017
And in its longer form is becomes something more than a quotation of his seminal "Fanfare for the Common Man." It instead becomes a central thematic element.
Yet it is more than merely that. Like "Appalachian Spring," where the Shaker hymn "Simple Gifts" tops off the work and gives it a trajectory, yet contains all in all some of Copland's most evocative pastoral music, so too the Third is redolent with an earthy joy, at once pastoral and filled with both rural and, if you will, some of the bustling celebratory complexities of the American town. And too the "Fanfare" is a thematic culmination.
So many years later, we can be less mindful of the central role the end of WWII is meant to play out in this symphony, written in 1946. Like Shostakovich and Prokofiev did in their symphonies of this period, it expresses a relief that the struggle is over. Copland's general sanguine outlook gives us something more in the line of pure joy than his Russian counterparts may have expressed. That is only to say that Copland remained Copland, as Shostakovich and Prokofiev remained true to themselves as well.
And in all that we hear a near ideal reading of the symphony by Slatkin and the Detroit Orchestra. The placid beauty of America at peace, the bustle of renewed life and the tribute to the heroic efforts of "the common man"come together for a whole that I seem to hear cohesively as if for the first time. The longer version of the final movement helps give the work a new balance it may not have quite as readily in the version we usually hear. But Slatkin gives each element equal and detailed weight so that we come away moved and satisfied.
As a bonus we also get a nice performance of Copland's 1971 "Three Latin Sketches," which fits in as a rewarding coda to all the music here.
So that is what we have on this one. It is a version of Copland's Third that makes very musical sense out of the score, balances out expression and nuance, draws out the very powerful totality Copland meant us to hear. It is landmark and worth the trouble, very much so.
Monday, October 16, 2017
The recording documents a concert held last year at the Tippet Rise Art Center in Montana, set on a stunningly beautiful natural and sculptural site that most apparently lends itself to inspired music making. Domo gives us a remarkable chamber music program of mostly early modern Russian chamber landmarks and a few notable other works, all performed with uniformly high caliber artistry.
Everything begins with a roaringly dramatic performance of Scriabin's "Piano Sonata No. 5," a very singularly passionate reading by Yevgeny Subdin that to me stands out as one of the most moving I've heard. It is followed by two songs and a piano work by Anton Garcia Abril, performed with care by pianist Christopher O'Riley and soprano Emily Helenbrook.
O'Riley then joins with cello master Matt Haimovitz for a ravishing version of Rachmaninoff's "Vocalise." Then we are treated to an infectiously joyful version of Stravinsky's third movement for the solo piano version of "Trois mouvements de Petrushka" played with nearly ecstatic verve by Jenny Chen.
From there we get quite stimulating versions of the second movement from his "Suite No. 1" (O'Riley and Anne-Marie McDermott, pianos) and Chopin's "Nocturne Op.15, No. 2" (Stephen Hough).
The fitting and most notable climax and finale comes with a trumpet and two piano version of Scriabin's "Poem de l'extase," with O'Riley and Svetlana Smolina on pianos and Elmer Churampi on trumpet. I've never heard the chamber version and I must say in the very capable hands of these three artists the music has all the mystery and thrust of the orchestral version but at the same time an intimacy that is different and refreshing.
So I am not one to gush about what could on the surface seem to be an ordinary concert of mostly well-trodden repertoire pieces. It isn't. The performances are marvelous, uniformly so. Anyone who cherishes the Russian early modernists will surely find this a very memorable recording.
Friday, October 13, 2017
Just as you cannot step in the same river twice, you cannot hear this work each time without feeling a new aspect of what you hear. And as a reviewer, if your original article was somehow wiped out as mine was sometime this past Tuesday, you cannot write the same review twice! Technological life is filled with such temporal anomalies. We no longer need Star Trek to experience virtual worm holes in the space-time continuum. Involuntary erasure gives us all we would ever want, which in fact is very little in this case!
There is the constant of the dramatic arc of the music, beginning quietly and gradually building in developmental sequences of sostenuto shimmers of radically tonal rolls of chordal clusters that flow along river-like, adding embellishments and thematic directional cues that turn it all after all into musical syntax and not just atmospherics, though even if Lentz kept it entirely primal we would be transfixed. But no, he wants us to embrace its long sprawling arc of cosmic event unfolding as a very long whole.
This is an excellent example of the Cold Blue school of mesmeric tonality. It speaks with a sprawling yet disciplined eloquence and takes us on a trip as would a river's endless flow. Beauty is there for us. We only have to stand (or sit) and hear the music go by.
Thursday, October 12, 2017
Nonetheless I am very glad to make the composer's aural acquaintance on his new collection of orchestral compositions, Transformations (BMOP Sound 1053), with the ever-essential Boston Modern Orchestra Project doing the honors under conductor Gil Rose, and the PRISM Quartet stepping in for the spotlight role on the work "And the Winds Shall Blow."
He writes complex chromatic music, high modernist shrines of intricate latticework. If you imagine Elliot Carter, and why should you not, you might put Wayne Paterson in his league, so to speak, not as some clone, but another highly individual later modern chromaticist.
That to me is an extraordinarily good thing!
In the three works on this recording, we hear Peterson at his best.
The Pulitzer Prize work "The Face of the Night, The Heart of the Dark" (1990) gets focused attention and we are all the better for it. It like the other works here give us a swirl of continually evolving phantasmagorias of sound, classic but evolved sound color matrixes of brilliant explosions and implosions of vivid hues and rhythmically charged musical utterances.
And with the opening works, "Transformations" (1985), "And the Winds Shall Blow" (1994), we get variational fireworks of constant refluxive reiterations and post-iterations, if you will have it.
"Winds" distinguishes itself via the welcome presence of the PRISM Saxophone Quartet, who with wind and percussion create an aura of deft interwoven complexities.
This is fabulously complicated high modernist profundity. Anyone (like me) who still thrives on the ear stretching kind of contemporaneity will take to this as exceptionally invigorating.
Modernists, do not miss!
Monday, October 9, 2017
Unlike his pupil Webern, Schoenberg intentionally straddled the future and the present-past. His music no matter what else came out of and advanced the music of his time. Webern was no doubt the more radical in his rethinking of thematic means and avoiding direct rootedness. To note this is not to denigrate either. It is only to situate both.
An excellent way to take Schoenberg's music seriously as music is with a recent recording of his String Quartets 2 & 4 (BIS 2267) by the Gringolts Quartet with soprano Malin Harlelius joining in for the 2nd Quartet.
Both of these quartets are masterpieces of their kind.
The Second Quartet was in effect a product of a personal breakthrough, brought on in part by Mahler's abandonment of Vienna for the United States, an affair between Schoenberg's wife and an artist who was living with them, and Schoenberg's own turn to painting. It was 1907-08. The Second Quartet marks a serious turn in Schoenberg's approach, essentially away from Late Romanticism towards an expressionism that incorporates the limits of tonality and a motival intertwining that no longer quite relates to harmonic movement. The fourth movement and its incorporation of a soprano part shot outwards to what at the time were the limits of expression. It no doubt shocked its hearers in those days, but most certainly not us, those of us who have become accustomed to outward movement in modernity.
Then there is "String Quartet No. 4," which takes us ahead to 1936 and Schoenberg's exodus-exile from a toxic Nazi state. Understandably it was another trying time for the composer. This is fully mature Schoenberg, an extraordinarily complex and brilliant construction of color and motif, beautifully idiomatic string writing, and dynamic upheaval that transports one to a very rarified modern musical world.
This happens to be an excellent performance of the two quartets. The Gringolts Quartet know very much what they are about and pay close attention not just to the notes themselves, but the syntactical sense behind them. Whether you already love Schoenberg's music or need to expose yourself to the best of it to learn to love it, this release is an essential!
Friday, October 6, 2017
One of the obvious things about the 5th is true to a greater or lesser degree of all the symphonies. They do not so much sound like Beethoven, Bruckner, or Tchaikovsky at root, of course. Even though the opening theme of the symphony at hand alludes to Beethoven's 5th. It does so in such an oblique fashion as to have a similar rhythmic element, little otherwise. So too Mahler's treatment of the strings throughout the symphony. What they do in part relates to the classical-romantic tradition of what strings can do. But Mahler conceives of them in a matrix where much of the time the winds and brass are equal partners.
Osmo Vanska and the Minnesota Orchestra grasp all of this beautifully and give us a truly balanced reading of the 5th. It sounds like Mahler and nothing else, exactly. The three instrumental families blend together in perfect symmetry as the score requires, yet the tender melancholy of the Adagietto lets the strings shine in their heartfull outpouring of mixed feelings.
This is a work that exemplifies the brilliance, yet also the beginning of the twilight of fin de siecle Vienna. Culturally all is still at a peak, yet the Austro-Hungarian Empire's containment of so many social-cultural subgroupings is troublesome and of course eventually the center could not hold. What "bothered" some contemporary hearers of the 5th is the inclusion-extrusion of "impure" folk ethnic elements interspersed throughout the work, Bohemian, Viennese, Slavic, Jewish strains of an earthy sort taking their place beside more classically derived thematic material. Of course this is part of what makes Mahler Mahler. The 5th has no grand choral finale ascending to high heaven, which only served I suppose to remind sceptical listeners that what remained made them uncomfortable.
Today of course we revel in such carefully intersected contrasts, such synthetic brilliances. Osmo Vanska understands all of that and gives us a sonically full, sympathetic reading of the totality that goes into Mahler's 5th. The details are everything. Not all versions of the symphony I have heard do justice to the at first perplexing jumble or elements. It is no jumble, in the end. It is all Mahler heard and embraced around him, and it is his brilliantly personal concatenation that the Minnesota plays for us so engagingly and idiomatically.
There is joy and sadness, a hazy nostalgia and a briskly contemporary Viennese encompassing of what need not be thought of as opposites, all elements taking their essential place in the artful scheme. The Minnesota Orchestra brings us the score in all its fulsomeness, with vivid sound staging and dramatically detailed balance. It is music that must be allowed to breathe. There may be divinity in its sublimity, but it is firmly of this world. Vanska feels the totality of it and brings it to us in spectacular Mahleresque ravishment.
Here is a reading that puts together what Mahler intended, true to the tabula rasa deja vu complexities and beauty. Strongly recommended!
Thursday, October 5, 2017
The duo pairing rules with the exception of one trio. Some of the works have a solemn majesty, some a jazzy approach, all have a reflectiveness in some way, and all show Chris Gekker to be a marvelous, singing trumpet presence. Some have a modernistic edge harmonically, but all seem contemporary in the wide sense of the term.
"Fall" (2016) by Robert Gibson sets the tone with an almost aching retrospection and beauty, the piano setting up lush tapestries of sustains that the trumpet completes in kind. "Ghost Dialogues" (1993) for trumpet and tenor by Lance Holmes deepens the mood and has an open freedom that reveals vistas ahead.
Carson Cooman brings us three movements of seasonal change with his "Equinox Sonata" (2015) for trumpet and piano. A timeless feeling and a lyrical facticity makes this one stand out.
Another Lance Hulme work, "The Street has Changed" (2015), takes a reflective text and creates still more reflection for mezzo-soprano, trumpet and in the final movement offstage piano. There is space to punctuate, notes to remind us that space is not the primary element!
Two shorter goodbyes top off the program memorably, "Served Two Ways" (2011) for trumpet and tenor by David Henrick is filled with jazz lyric strength, then buzzing energy. And Kevin McKee's "Song for a Friend" (2015) for trumpet and piano gets the last word with a kind of regal, beautifully tuneful musing.
I guess you could call this one a sleeper in the best sense. It is filled with many small and less-small treasures. All performers are peak, but Chris Gekker is the very artful, brilliant constant.
It may not be what you might ordinarily seek. That is why I am here, to tell you about the things you might overlook. Do not do that with Ghost Dialogues. The brown study side of you will gravitate happily to this program.
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
What first impresses is the sheer quantity of quality high modern moodiness. In all we get 19 works from the long time span. There is a continuity of style, generally speaking.
Bergman lived a long life and was compositionally active for most of it. As the prominent Finnish modernist of his time, he was celebrated in his home country but less so in the world at large.
He wrote extensively for choral groups. The selection of mostly mixed choral works on the disk have not been often heard, so we are fortunate to have this set to fill out the picture of Bergman's oeuvre.
The music will certainly appeal to you if you are a modernist at heart. Bergman goes his own way. There is much to explore. Give it a listen!
Monday, October 2, 2017
Randall Thompson, Symphony No. 2, Samuel Adams, Samuel Barber, National Orchestral Institute Philharmonic, James Ross
It is a bit of Americana without going out of its way to be so, quasi-Nationalism without any overt gestures thematically. Thompson's Second has syncopation that is not quite jazz (of 1931) but has something of the lively rhythmic bustle of the age and place.
Samuel Barber's First has American pathos and breadth.
Samuel Adams and his "Drift and Providence" updates the quilted earthiness of American symphonic form for today yet does not insist on overt modernity.
We get a generous sampling of the symphonic form beyond the overtly romantic. All is well played by the National Orchestral Institute under Ross.
It is not music that will change your life, exactly. Nonetheless there is much pleasure to be gained in the hearing. Recommended.
Friday, September 29, 2017
Feeling like I do I welcomed the chance to review a new version of Madrigals Book 8 "Madrigali guerrieri et amorosi" (Naxos 8.573755-58) by Delitiae Musicae under the direction of Marco Longhini. The four-CD set manages to luxuriously include all the madrigals plus the lengthy 48 minute "Ballo delle ingrate."
Delitiae Musicae approaches the music with loving care and period rigor. The Ensemble vocale features nine singers used in varying combinations. Included are two countertenors and a boy soprano in keeping with performance practices. The Basso continuo comprises some nine players, including baroque harp, two theorbo and so on. Then as called for there is the Ensemble di viole da gamba (with soprano, contralto, tenor, and bass instruments). Finally there is the string section per se, the Ensemble di archi barocchi, with eight instrumentalists.
Throughout the course of the program, the continuo is a constant, the singers are assigned solo, duo, and other small configurations in contrast with the tutti passages. Similarly the ensemble instrumental groups appear variably according to the demands of the score.
The sensitive timbral period dimensions of the music bring to us an authentic and beautiful sound. All come together in varying combinations for a sterling performance in all its facets. This is later Monteverdi in full flower, with contrapuntal imitation contrasting with homophony in various Montervedian ways. As the composer states in his introduction to Book 8, the music addresses the "agitated," the "soft" and the "moderate" in ever varying sequences. Contrasts too are ever present between the "theatrical" and those numbers that are more purely musical, that are to be "sung" more than enacted.
The resultant whole that is the sequence of Book 8 has a richness and inventiveness brought out wonderfully well by Delitiae Musicae. The full effect of the totality is cumulative. By the time you come to the end, you feel you have grasped the extraordinary beauty and character of later Monteverdi with a period faithfulness that brings out the wealth of expression that marks out Book 8 as exceptional in itself.
The Naxos price just adds to the desirability and attractiveness of the set. It is a near ideal performance of music one must dwell within for a time to make it live for you. Once you do that, you are transported!
Thursday, September 28, 2017
Now we get a lot more music on the strictly chamber side of the coin, Dancing at the Pink House (Snow Leopard Music 201). The five compositions all show Hersh off as a musical poet not satisfied to remain in place, but ever to move forward.
"Madame's Tavern" (2014) opens the program with Mary Rowell on violin playing against a "phantom choir" of 15 pre-recorded violins. It is a sort of mini-concerto with a wealth of inventive signposts in a continually moving matrix both expressive and beautiful in a sometimes relatively hard-edged yet evocative manner. It leaves an impression of a lively musical mind, restless but elated.
"Loop" (2006) pits cello, piano and vibraphone in a mysterious, ostinato based blend that opens up another vista and breaks through to it with a forceful, then gentle plein air traversal. It is a landscape we simultaneously sense an uncanny deja vu with but then find much that rejuvenates our living within it. A ravishing work.
"I Love You, Billy Danger" (2012) gives us 12 minutes of solo piano music. It is a sort of aural tongue-twister with a dashingly bold modernistic flourish to it. This is quite involved and difficult to play pianism which Brenda Tom tackles heroically and effectively (as she so capably and brilliantly did on Howard's last album). It rolls forward inexorably and memorably, then abruptly hushes, only to pose a series of quiet questions, all of which have emphatic answers. Then gradually the question itself becomes the answer as it morphs into full thematic flower and onwards from there.
"Night" (2013) takes us into trio territory again, this time with clarinet, marimba and percussion. The clarinet part projects outward in a sort of post-Gershwin jazzy way. The marimba puts down a mobile wooden flooring of sorts that enables the clarinet to bound forward. The percussion subtly punctuates and colors. Momentum takes a hold with a more rhythmically vibrant marimba part that then opens up to quieter realms again.
"Dancing at the Pink House" (2006) deserves its title status with clarinet-piano folk-modern-vernacular expressions with a quietly driving motility of a dance-like sort. Ultimately the dance calms and opens up to a more lyrical introspection, ultimately to return to the motion of body-in-movement, and in the end to take on a quotation from "America the Beautiful." Unforgettable, this is.
And that is the whole of it, or as much as I can touch upon in this framework. It is music that holds a place in your musical memory as something with a very personal, original fingerprint. It is music that continually underscores its presence in the contemporary United States, yet transcends that rootedness too with a music anyone can appreciate who has the ear to do so.
Very worthwhile! Hersh is a voice.
Wednesday, September 27, 2017
It is based on Edgar Allen Poe's iconic poem. A full recitation of that is followed by Hosokawa's work, which in turned is presented in the form of a traditional Noh drama.
The music is spacious, sombre, mysterious and more or less high modernist in its sprawling expanded tonal rigor. The dark mood has a musical analogy, which is sure-footed and very atmospheric.
Mezzo-Soprano Hellekant and the United Instruments of Lucilin give us a detailed and carefully expressive reading of the work.
Poe's poem and its raven-centered theme appealed to Hosokawa for its similarity with Traditional Japanese tales, which often focus on plants and animals in dialog with human subjects. He felt that it readily lent itself to Noh dramatic treatment. For The Raven work Hosokawa transforms the narrative human subject from man to women, which also is consistent with Noh tradition. To the Western listener such elements are not readily apparent so much as there is a cogent use of aural spaciousness that Noh music shares with this work.
The composition is dedicated by the composer to Hellekant and United Instrumentation. The close rapport between music and performers is apparent and a large factor in the success of the disk. One at this point could scarce imagine a better reading.
It is a rarified music of great dramatic heft. One is given yet another chance to appreciate the breadth and scope of Hosokawa's poignant music vision. All interested in Japanese modernism today should hear this one. It is revelatory and absorbing.