Recent Releases, No. 15 (CD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Shostakovich: Symphonies Nos. 9 & 10. Gianandrea Noseda, London Symphony Orchestra. LSO Live LSO0828.

Another installment in Noseda’s ongoing Shostakovich cycle, this pairing of these consecutively numbered symphonies offers more than 79 minutes of gripping music in an unusual but welcome pairing of these two works by the late Russian master. Symphony No. 9 is the lighter and shorter of the two, consisting of five relatively brief movements. As you might expect from Shostakovich, though, although there are moments of lightness and humor, there are also moments of great energy. Listeners who have not heard this music before may be especially delighted to follow the trombone part in the opening movement. I won’t give it away; enjoy hearing it for yourself. What Symphony No. 9 lacks in those long brooding passages that the composer is known for, Shostakovich more than makes up for this in Symphony No. 10, which many fans of the composer consider to be his symphonic masterpiece (as do I, sometimes, but then at other times I favor No. 8, but then again, on other days, No. 4). The opening movement is nearly as long as the whole of No. 9, with Noseda doing a commendable job of maintaining our interest while ratcheting up the tension without resorting to cheap theatrics. He and the LSO players deliver a convincing performance of this work, with both the performance and the sound comparing favorably to two of my favorite recordings, Levi/Atlanta (Telarc) and Dohnányi/Cleveland (Decca/London). As the performance progresses, Noseda and the LSO maintain the tension but yet also bring out the softer, more introspective passages Shostakovich also includes into the score as well as the brooding and the anguish that never seem to completely go away. With excellent engineering, excellent performances, and two symphonies on one SACD (I auditioned the CD layer), this 79-minute disc is certainly a recommendable release for Shostakovich fans and doubtless many others could easily be converted to DSCH by giving this disc a good listen.    

John McLaughlin: Liberation Time. John McLaughlin, guitar/guitar synthesizer/piano; Roger Rossignol. piano; Rangit Barot, drums/konokol; Jean-Michel “Kiki” Aublette, drums/bass; Vinnie Colaiuta, drums; Nicolas Viccaro, drums; Julian Siegel, tenor saxophone; Etienne M’Bappé, bass; Gary Husband, drums/piano; Sam Burgess, bass; Jerome Regard, bass; Oz Esseldin, piano. Abstract Logic ABL 65.

For many folks of a certain age, a pivotal musical experience was hearing the 1973 album The Inner Mounting Flame by guitarist John Mclaughlin’s  Mahavishnu Orchestra, which featured McLaughlin on guitar, Jerry Goodman on violin, Jan Hammer on keyboards, Rick Laird on bass, and Billy Cobham on drums. This was intense music, dazzling in its speed and virtuosity and manic in its sheer energy. McLaughlin’s guitar playing knocked me out then and it knocks me out now. At age 79, he still has it. Those fingers can still fly! And as you might guess, this is another of those pandemic albums -- produced during conditions that have precluded the musicians involved from getting together in the studio as they normally would. As McLaughlin writes in his brief liner note, “This recording is the direct result of the restrictions imposed on all of us due to the Covid 19 pandemic. By the end of September 2020, I, like so many millions of people, had become deeply frustrated by these necessary ‘antisocial rules’ imposed, even so, with good intent by all governments. The result of this frustration was an explosion of music in my mind, which led to this recording.” By and large the musicians did not get together in the studio; rather, McLaughlin would send them his ideas for the various compositions and they would lay down supporting tracks that he would then listen to and respond to until eventually the various parts were mixed into final versions that became the seven cuts on the album. This was a worldwide effort, involving 11 musicians besides McLaughlin with recording taking place not only in Monaco (where McLaughlin resides and has a studio) but also in Paris, London, Cairo, and Los Angeles. I like to think of jazz as a kind of chamber music, which I am sure for some readers is stretching things too far, and in this case, the “chamber” is a virtual, digital simulacrum. Oh well, just put this CD into your player and let the opening guitar riff by Maestro McLaughlin bring your wandering mind right back into the here and now. Yes, his fingers can still fly. This is what got termed “fusion music” back in the 1970s, an energetic blend of rock and jazz, played on mostly electric/electronic instruments. But McLaughlin has never been one to rest on simple rock or funk cliches, he is a serious, probing musician who has always stressed the spiritual dimension of music. He is seeking liberation not just from the restrictions of the pandemic, but liberation of the spirit, and his music dances and sings in its energetic interplay of musicians. Besides the thrill of hearing those 79-year-old fingers dancing along the frets, other thrills include the kokonol singing of drummer Ranjit Barot on the cut “Lockdown Blues” (kokonol being a rhythmic vocalization style from South Indian Carnatic music) and the gentler thrill of hearing McLaughlin play the piano rather than the guitar on two brief tracks, “Mila Repa” and “Shade of Blue.” The album concludes with the rousing title cut, “Liberation Time,” for which digital magic enables the trio of McLaughlin (guitar), Burgess (bass), and Husband (piano and drums) to liberate themselves into one heck of a quartet. Given the way the album was recorded, it makes no sense to talk of imaging and such, but I can report that there is no brightness or glare to the sound, so it will not fry your tweeters or cause you any sort of listener fatigue.  

Mark John McEncroe: Fanfare Suite. Stephen Williams, Sydney Scoring Orchestra. Navona NV6329.

Australian composer Mark John McEncroe (b. 1947) did not take up music seriously until later in life, starting serious piano studies at the age of 37 while continuing his professional life as a chef until age 50. He subsequently studied composition and orchestration privately, eventually transforming himself into a serious composer as evidenced by the three compositions on this new release from Navona. In the liner notes, McEncroe writes that all the music on this album was originally scored for full orchestra, and after recording it that way in 2015, “conductor Anthony Armoré suggested to me that this repertoire would be very suitable for concert band, particularly Fanfare Suite. I then recorded it with the Sydney Scoring Orchestra, a composite studio orchestra which for this session were mostly all members of the Sydney Symphony Orchestra.”  Of the work that opens this CD, McEncroe writes that “when I think of the Fanfare Suite, I think of Aaron Copland and wide open spaces, big horizons, the Grand Canyon, John Ford/John Wayne movies etc. However, I’m not American so I’d like to think of it as more universal in its ‘grandness’.” In four movement totaling more than 40 minutes, it is indeed a grand piece, and as played and recorded here has a big, full, open sound that you would expect from a professional concert band. The first of the four movements lives up to the fanfare designation, but there are moments that sound very jazzlike. The second movement ramps up the drama, often playing off the contrast between the sound of the brass and the sound of the winds. The third movement, although it features a prominent bass drum part, comes across as more reflective overall, even pastoral, with a layered presentation. The final movement, which is the hottest of the four, begins with brass and percussion leading the way, giving a real sense of occasion, and there are some engaging rhythms to be heard as the music continues. The two compositions that complete the album are both characterized as symphonic poems. Celebration of the Natural World is tuneful, colorful, and engaging, while The Passing is more somber in mood. It is reflective, but although it opens softly and is often reflective in mood, is not always peaceful and quiet in expression, making especially expressive use of woodwinds and percussion. All in all, this is an enjoyable recording, well played and well recorded. The music may not be memorable or profound, but it is pleasant and listenable, and there are times when that is sufficient. My only quibble is that it would have been nice to have more extensive liner notes, but I have no significant reservations about the music or the engineering. The former chef has served up some musical comfort food.

Dwb (driving while black): Roberta Gumbel, libretto; Susan Kander, music; performed by Roberta Gumbel, soprano, and New Morse Code (Hannah Collins, cello; Michael Compitello, percussion). Albany Records TROY1858.

What we have here is far from musical comfort food; it is music to make us feel uncomfortable – but for good reason. Soprano Roberta Gumbel not only does the singing, she wrote the libretto for this opera, while the music was composed by Susan Kander (b. 1957). In his brief note included in the liner booklet, director Chip Miller offers a succinct overview of the piece: “When I was studying for my driver’s license test, my parents sat me down for an important discussion about car safety: what to do when you are pulled over by a police officer. As they went through the list of instructions, I’m sure I rolled my eyes. To me, the car represented freedom, and that was all I could see. I could not yet see the numerous times I would be pulled over for being in the wrong neighborhood. I could not yet see the danger that exists when you are black and in motion in America. But my parents did. Susan Kander and Roberta Gumbel’s dwb (driving while black) provided a window through which to revisit that crucial conversation, this time through the vantage point of my parents. In its swift 45 minutes, we spend 16 years with a black mother, feeling her growing fear as her black son moves toward driving age. The anxieties of being black and behind the wheel are given voice: in the gorgeous words sung by the mother, in the atmosphere created by the percussionist and cellist, and in the retellings of real stories of discrimination.” Lest the reader think dwb is of political interest only, I hasten to add that it is musically fascinating. Not only does Gumbel draw the listener in with her dramatic singing and storytelling, but the instrumental duo New Morse Code are simply amazing in the way they are able to move the story along with such a colorful variety of rhythms, textures, accents, and colors from just two musicians. Credit of course must also be given to composer Kander and the engineering crew for capturing these sounds so vividly. To be honest, I was not sure what to expect from this recording, but I was quickly won over not only by the dramatic storyline but also by the sheer energy and imagination of the music itself. The libretto is included in the booklet; this is a first-class production in every way, even if not your typical opera.   

Bonus Recommendation
Sebastian Fagerlund: Drifts; Stonework; Transit. Ismo Eskelinen, guitar; Hannu Lintu, Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra. BIS-2295 SACD.

I have observed before that much contemporary orchestral music tends to favor the creation of interesting sounds over the spinning of memorable melodies, or as others have characterized it, an emphasis on the vertical rather than the horizontal. This recording of music by the Finnish composer Sebastian Fagerlund (b. 1972) falls into the former category. No, this is not dissonant music that will make you cringe, but on the other hand, if you are looking for something pretty, there is very little here that will satisfy your cravings. Drifts is a composition for orchestra of just under 12 minutes in length. It is a powerful work that proceeds in waves of energy, at times from the brass, at times from the strings, constantly churning and changing. The overall tone color is dark, with an emphasis on the lower end of the sonic spectrum. Stonework is brighter in overall tone, with more contributions from the higher brass, woodwinds, and strings. Throughout its more than 15 minutes it just keeps changing, never settling into one type of sound or rhythm.  Both these pieces I would characterize as bold, fascinating, certainly fun to hear on a big system, but not really musically memorable. Transit, which is a concerto for guitar and orchestra, is an unusual concerto in six movements that are played without pause. The guitar never really makes any virtuoso display; indeed, it often plays rather quietly. However, the overall effect of the quiet guitar and the variety of moods displayed by the orchestra tend to draw the listener in. At first listen, I found the piece underwhelming, but as I listened to it a few more times, I began to find myself intrigued by its soft-spoken quirkiness. Overall, this is not a recording for everyone, but fans of soft-spoken quirkiness (you know who you are) might want to give it a listen.  

KWN