Piano Potpourri, No. 3 (CD reviews)

Echoes of Life. IN THE BEGINNING WAS | Francesco Tristano: In the Beginning Was; Chopin: Preludes op. 28: Nos. 1-4: INFANT REBELLION | Ligeti: Musica ricercata I; Chopin: Preludes op. 28. Nos. 5-9; WHEN THE GRASS WAS GREENER | Nino Rota: Valzer; Chopin: Preludes op. 28: Nos. 10-15; NO ROADMAP TO ADULTHOOD | Chilly Gonzales: Prelude in C sharp major; Chopin: Preludes op. 28: Nos. 16-18; IDENTITY | Takemitsu; Litany I; Chopin: Preludes op. 28: Nos. 19-20; A PATH TO WHERE | Arvo Pärt: Für Alina; Chopin: Preludes op. 28: Nos. 21-24; LULLABY TO ETERNITY | Alice Sara Ott: Lullaby to Eternity. Alice Sara Ott. Piano. Deutsche Grammophon 486 0474.

By Karl W. Nehring

With so much of recorded music trending toward the “song” as the fundamental commodity, and with even classical music labels such as, yes, Deutsche Grammophon releasing individual digital tracks as singles, it is encouraging to see that the concept of the album is still alive and well; moreover, what we have here is not just an album, but by golly, a concept album. Not just a collection of pieces, but a collection assembled in an attempt to tell some sort of story, augmented by the liner notes and art. You have probably already noticed the all-caps interjections in the list of compositions above, which are taken directly from the back cover of the CD digipack. As the German pianist Alice Sara Ott (b. 1988) explains it, “Echoes of Life is a personal reflection on the thoughts and moments that influence and change our lives. It also portrays the journey and transformation I took to become the person and artist I see myself as today. In interpreting music from composers who, in their own time, challenged the system and redefined music, I see it as my role as a classical musician to carry this spirit forward by not insisting on reproducing bygone traditions and limitations… With his Preludes op. 28, Frédéric Chopin composed a collection of individual character pieces – very different from each other and yet all connected in some way. They remind me of life. I have chosen seven contemporary works to intersperse the Preludes and, while they echo some of my most personal and vulnerable experiences, they also conform how modern, provocative, and timeless Chopin’s music is.”  

The end result is a musical delight, as Ott mingles stimulating newer music together with the music of Chopin to create a program that flows smoothly and draws the listener in. You really don’t get the sense that you are jumping back and forth in time or making abrupt shifts in style. Yes, the Ligeti piece has a fierceness about it, but not overwhelmingly so, and yes, when you think about it, Chopin’s music has energy in abundance also. And so it goes with Takemitsu and Chopin, and Pärt and Chopin; in the hands of Alice Sara Ott, this music all makes sense together. The engineering is also first-rate, with a coherent piano sound. This truly is a splendid release.

When Do We Dance? George Gershwin: When Do We Dance?; Art Tatum: Tea for Two; William Bolcom; Graceful Ghost Rag; Fats Waller: Vipers Drag; Astor Piazzolla: Libertango; Alberto Ginastera: Argentine Dances No. 2; Manuel de Falla: Ritual Fire Dance; Maurice Ravel: Valses Nobles et Sentimentales; Camille Saint-Saëns: Étude en Forme de Valse; Béla Bartók: Romanian Folk Dances; Igor Stravinsky: Tango; Alexander Scriabin: Waltz in A flat Major; Rachmaninoff: Polka Italienne. Lise de la Salle, piano. Naïve V 5468.

As you can readily infer from the selections on this release from French pianist Lise de la Salle (b. 1988), the emphasis here is on dance music. As the pianist explains, “With so many dances and so much music to play, I could take ten albums to tell this whole story. So, I decided to focus on one century (1850-1950) but travel the world. I believe this is the most fascinating period in the history of all the arts, alive with new rules and techniques, and an explosion of potential – not just in music but also in literature, painting and dance. It all explodes, and the twentieth century opens up to a new modern world. This gives rise to new emotions of incredible depth. When Do We Dance? is a journey through this century to explore the different ways in which dance takes possession of the body: with an amazing swing in North America, developing a  strong sensuality in South America and Spain, with reserve, elegance and sophistication in France, or through the expression of a late, sentimental romanticism in eastern Europe and Russia.”

What is particularly rewarding about the program she has chosen is to see the names of Art Tatum, Fats Waller, and Astor Piazzolla in there along with more recognizable names from the classical music world. De la Salle obviously loves music, loves dance (which she has studied), and knows how to play dance music in a way that does it justice – that lets it swing and sway; however, she never lets herself get carried away, she never takes it over the top. From Tatum to Ravel to Stravinsky, she lets the music dance. My only reservation about this release is the engineering. Although the sound of the piano is clean and clear, the stereo imaging is a bit odd, with the piano seeming too wide and not quite coherent. If your system has a mono setting, that might be the best. Really, the sound is not at all a deal-breaker, and many listeners will find it just fine, so don’t let my sonic quibbles dissuade you from listening to this energetic collection, which Ms. de la Salle characterizes as “a journey to explore the different ways in which dance takes possession of the body.”

Northscapes. Lasse Thoresen: Invocation of Pristine Light Op. 52, No. 1; Anna Thorvaldsdottir: Scape; Bent Sorensen: (from 12 Nocturnes) I: Mignon - Und die Sonne geht Unter; III: Nachtlicher Fluss; VII: Mitternacht mit Mignon; Kaija Saariaho: Prelude; Raminta Serksnyte: Fantasia; Peteris Vasks: Music for a Summer Evening; Lasse Thoresen: Invocation of Rising Air, Op. 52, No. 2. Ieva Jokubaviciute, piano. Sono Luminus DSL-92251.

Although I was not quite sure what to expect from this release, I certainly looked forward to auditioning it. As for as the composers, I was quite familiar with the orchestral music of Vasks, but had never heard any of his piano music; had heard some orchestral music by Saariaho but none of her piano music; some chamber music by Thorvaldsdottir but no piano music; and nothing at all by any of the other composers or the pianist. So why did I look forward to auditioning it? Because I knew that Sono Luminus had great sound and because the program looked intriguing indeed. I knew I had to give it a listen.

I’m glad I did so, for I was richly rewarded. Lithuanian pianist Ieva Jokubaviciute is able to draw astonishing sounds from the piano, both form the keyboard and from “under the hood” if so requested by the composer; and Sono Luminus has captured in all in gloriously realistic sound quality. Particularly impressive are the two contributions by Norwegian composer Lasse Thoresen, which open and close the program. Invocation of Pristine Light really does evoke a feeling of illumination, a sense of wonder, discovery, and joy. Although of course I have never heard anyone else interpret this piece before, it is hard to imagine anyone bringing any more sensitivity to it than Ms. Jokubaviciute. The closing Invocation of Rising Air has a contrasting energy to it, more subdued, but still imbued with wonder. Thorvaldsdottir’s Scape finds the pianist drawing some unusual sounds from her instrument. As the liner notes explain, Scape “calls for the piano to be prepared with screws placed between certain strings, for the use of a thimble, and for the application of an e-bow. Already, we have here the composer asking the performer to coax a host of sounds and gestures from inside the piano beyond hammers striking strings. The preparation of the piano and the use of extended techniques unleash sounds inherent to the instrument yet repressed by the mechanisms of the tradition.”  One of the liner note photos depicts Ms. Jokubaviciute manipulating the strings inside the piano. Although to read of these techniques might lead one to believe that the music must sound hostile and unlistenable, the end result is far from that. Strange, perhaps, but compelling – musically compelling at that. And so the rest of the album goes, fresh, bracing new sounds, expertly played and magnificently recorded. If you are a fan of piano music and have at least a modicum of musical adventurousness in your soul, Northscapes belongs on your audition list.

Bonus Recommendations:

Puerta. Jorge Rossy, vibraphone, marimba; Robert Landfermann, double bass; Jeff Ballard, drums, percussion. ECM 2661 382 2596.

There is an interesting backstory here. Jorge Rossy was for a time the drummer in the Brad Mehldau Trio, but left that group to return to his native Spain and concentrate on his piano playing. He was replaced in Mehldau’s piano trio by the American drummer Jeff Ballard. And now we have here Rossy on neither drums nor piano, but rather on vibes and marimba, recording an album of mostly his own compositions supported by Ballard on drums and German bassist Landfermann. Most of the tunes have a relatively easygoing feel to them, medium tempos, minimum flash, with the musicians more interested in communicating with the listener than showing off their chops. It is fascinating to hear the sonic interplay between the drums and the vibes. Both involve instruments that are struck with sticks/mallets; both are being played by musicians who are experienced drummers. The crystal clear ECM sound allows you to really focus on their interaction, which is fascinating, and of course you also have the underlying plucking support of the double bass, which at times steps out into the foreground, occasionally bowed rather than plucked, marimba sometimes ringing…  Amazing now instruments that are struck and plucked can sound so soothing, yet while sounding so soothing still hold our attention.  

Mozart in the Jungle: Sex, Drugs, and Classical Music. Tindall, Blair. Grove Press (2005).

Although this book covers the classical music world of several decades ago, many of the issues that Blair Tindall brings up regarding the financial and management practices within the industry are still relevant today. In addition, many of the personalities she discusses involve names that would be recognizable to most fans of classical music. Yes, there are some salacious details involving sex and drugs that could well have been left out, some of those salacious details do serve to give readers a perspective on the world of classical music they might otherwise never have been afforded. As a quick example, I recall attending a performance by the famed violinist Ihtzak Perlman, who was accompanied on piano by Samuel Sanders, back in the early 1980s. According to Tindall, who came to know Sanders very well, Perlman was making around $33,000 for such appearances at that time, and paying Sanders all of $1,000. Interesting… Tindall also writes of how as orchestras came to get money from corporations and other donors, they tended to increase their spending; in fact, the more donations the received, the larger their debt became. There are also some interesting character sketches in this memoir; unfortunately, some of them turn out to have sad endings as some individuals fall prey to drugs, alcohol, disease, or despair. Tindall was one of the fortunate few, able to escape the classical music world she felt trapped in by discovering she had a talent for writing and actually earning a scholarship to Stanford and starting a second career in journalism, and eventually writing her book. It is not a volume I would recommend to everyone, but it is worth at least a skim through if you are interested in gaining another perspective on classical music – sex, drugs, money, and all the rest that goes with it.

KWN