Piano music by Couperin, Schumann, Glass, and Satie. Simone Dinnerstein, piano. Orange Mountain Music 0156.
By John J. Puccio and Karl W. Nehring
The music according to John:
As you probably know, American classical pianist Simone Dinnerstein loves to do theme albums. The titles alone give you the idea: An American Mosaic, A Character of Quiet, Bach: Strange Beauty, Mozart in Havana, Something Almost Being Said, Night, Bach Re-Invented, Broadway - Lafayette, and now Undersong. Of course, she has done more traditional albums as well, like Bach’s Goldberg Variations and Inventions and Sinfonias, and Beethoven’s Complete Works for Piano and Cello (with cellist Zuill Bailey). But lately, as her name and fame have grown, she has increasingly pursued theme albums.
Undersong is a term I was unfamiliar with, so I looked it up. The Free Dictionary calls it “an accompanying secondary melody”; or “a nuanced meaning.” Merriam-Webster says it’s “a subordinate melody or part; especially, a droning accompaniment or undertone. A refrain.” Ms. Dinnerstein apparently goes with “refrain.” As she says, “Couperin, Schumann, Glass, and Satie constantly revisit the same material, worrying at, shifting it to different harmonies and into different rhythmic shapes. Working with this music in the fall of 2020 was a constant reminder that in my afternoon walk in the Green-wood Cemetery, I was quite literally treading a familiar path every day, a path that nonetheless had changed almost imperceptibly every time I left the house.” Thus, we have the shifting, sometimes hidden texts of these musical pieces with refrains. The whole idea may seem a bit morose (starting with Ms. Dinnerstein’s black-and-white cover photo surrounded by tombstones and looking for all the world like Morticia Addams), but, then, the whole pandemic has been a pretty morose experience.
Nevertheless, whether or not you buy into the slightly murky spirit of the “undersong” business, you can’t deny that Ms. Dinnerstein’s handling of the material is thoughtful, emotional yet restrained, and unfailingly sensitive. Thus informed, we begin with Les Barricades Mysterieuses (“The Mysterious Barricades”) that the French Baroque composer Francois Couperin wrote in 1717. Like its title, the music is evocative, and Ms. Dinnerstein makes the most of it.
Next is an equally famous piece, Arabesque, Op. 18, written by Robert Schumann in 1839. The composer wrote it during a particularly stormy period of his life during which his future wife Clara’s father wanted no part of him as a son-in-law. The music reflects these turbulent yet tender times, and Ms. Dinnerstein adds her own affectionate touch and occasional barb.
Philip Glass comes after that with his solo piano work, Mad Rush (1979). Ms. Dinnerstein describes the music of the disc as the kind to get lost in, and that’s no better expressed than in the Glass piece. It’s kind of looking-glass music (pun intended) with ripples and reflections of all sorts. Ms. Dinnerstein’s gentle yet firm approach has us drifting through a kaleidoscope of musical colors.
Then we get more from Couperin, Tic Toc Choc, a whimsical representation of the rhythms of a clock. Given its eighteenth-century origins, the piece sounds surprisingly modern in Ms. Dinnerstein’s hands.
Then, there’s Gnossienne No. 3 by French composer Erik Satie (1888). “Gnossienne” was a word Satie invented, probably to remind listeners of “gnostic” or spiritual knowledge or maybe of “gnossus” from ancient Crete. Whatever, it is intensely mystical and contemplative.
The program’s penultimate work is the longest, Schumann’s Kreisleriana, a selection of eight movements for solo piano (1838). Schumann regarded it as his favorite work. Here, Ms. Dinnerstein lets her hair down, so to speak, pursuing the sometimes tempestuous, sometimes tranquil segments with equally warmhearted vigor.
Ms. Dinnerstein concludes the disc, appropriately, with a refrain: Couperin’s Les Barricades Redux.
Adam Abeshouse produced and engineered the album, which he recorded in Ms. Dinnerstein’s home in Brooklyn, NY in November 2020. The piano, recorded somewhat closely, sounds honeyed and mellow, with a warm, rich quality that greatly complements the music. Then, too, a mildly resonant acoustic also contributes to the disc’s pleasures.
JJP
The music according to Karl:
American pianist Simone Dinnerstein (b. 1972) first came to my attention and to the attention of many, many others, as it would soon turn out back in 2007 when her recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations was released on the Telarc label. It was a splendid recording for which I wrote an enthusiastic review in The $ensible Sound. The album shot to the top of Billboard’s classical CD best-sellers list. I’d love to say that its success was in part attributable to my review, but I have every confidence that the good readers of Classical Candor are nowhere near so gullible as to believe such blatant blather. Fast-forward 15 years and I find myself once again reviewing a recording by Ms. Dinnerstein, who has been busy during the pandemic, as Undersong is her third made during this trying time. Isolation can have some compensations for those prepared to make the best of their particular talents and opportunities, and Ms. Dinnerstein has certainly used her talents and opportunities to produce another splendid recording. In her brief liner note, she writes that “all of the music on this album consists of musical forms that have a refrain. Glass, Schumann, Couperin, and Satie constantly revisit the same material in these pieces, shifting it to different harmonies and into different rhythmic shapes. Undersong is an archaic term for a song with a refrain, and to me it also suggests a hidden text. Glass, Schumann, Couperin and Satie all seem to be attempting to find what they want to say through repetition, as though their constant change and recycling will focus the ear and the mind. This is music to get lost in.” She goes on to compare that repetition to her daily afternoon walk through Green-wood Cemetery in Brooklyn, where she treads the same path day after day (the B&W cover photo features her posing there on the cemetery path).
Despite that talk of solitary cemetery strolls, the music she has chosen is not morose. The piece by Francois Couperin that opens and closes the album is ruminative, though. Indeed, it would seem that framing the album this way is evidence of a deft artistic touch, the pianist’s way of communicating that she intending her program to be understood as a framed musical composition that she has put together purposefully, beginning and ending a musical journey with something on her mind. Besides, Les Barricades Mysterieuses is an entrancing composition, well worth hearing played twice, ever so slightly slowly to finish the program. Between those opening and closing tunes, there is a varied program that spans the centuries. Following the opening Couperin, Schumann’s Arabesque seems somehow to sustain a similar feeling despite being dissimilar in style. The pace then picks up as Dinnerstein leans into the pulsing rhythms of Philip Glass’s Mad Rush. I know there are some who are wary of anything by Glass, but to my ears at least, his piano music represents some of the best of his output, and Mad Rush is an excellent piece that sounds perfectly placed in this program. After a brief bon-bon from Couperin, we then come to the longest composition, taking up more than half the time on the CD, Schumann’s Kreisleriana, which consists of eight sections. The music and the mood here are certainly different from the Glass, the Satie, or even the other Schumann, but I quibble. Others may find it more perfectly blended in than did I. My only other quibble is with the liner notes, which are quite brief. It would have been rewarding to have some more insight from Ms. Dinnerstein as to how she came to choose the particular composers and compositions and why she presented them in the order she chose for her program. Still, when you come down to it, this is a really nice release, with a well-played, well-recorded, and thoughtfully chosen program -- music to get lost in.
KWN
To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:
By John J. Puccio and Karl W. Nehring
The music according to John:
Undersong is a term I was unfamiliar with, so I looked it up. The Free Dictionary calls it “an accompanying secondary melody”; or “a nuanced meaning.” Merriam-Webster says it’s “a subordinate melody or part; especially, a droning accompaniment or undertone. A refrain.” Ms. Dinnerstein apparently goes with “refrain.” As she says, “Couperin, Schumann, Glass, and Satie constantly revisit the same material, worrying at, shifting it to different harmonies and into different rhythmic shapes. Working with this music in the fall of 2020 was a constant reminder that in my afternoon walk in the Green-wood Cemetery, I was quite literally treading a familiar path every day, a path that nonetheless had changed almost imperceptibly every time I left the house.” Thus, we have the shifting, sometimes hidden texts of these musical pieces with refrains. The whole idea may seem a bit morose (starting with Ms. Dinnerstein’s black-and-white cover photo surrounded by tombstones and looking for all the world like Morticia Addams), but, then, the whole pandemic has been a pretty morose experience.
Nevertheless, whether or not you buy into the slightly murky spirit of the “undersong” business, you can’t deny that Ms. Dinnerstein’s handling of the material is thoughtful, emotional yet restrained, and unfailingly sensitive. Thus informed, we begin with Les Barricades Mysterieuses (“The Mysterious Barricades”) that the French Baroque composer Francois Couperin wrote in 1717. Like its title, the music is evocative, and Ms. Dinnerstein makes the most of it.
Next is an equally famous piece, Arabesque, Op. 18, written by Robert Schumann in 1839. The composer wrote it during a particularly stormy period of his life during which his future wife Clara’s father wanted no part of him as a son-in-law. The music reflects these turbulent yet tender times, and Ms. Dinnerstein adds her own affectionate touch and occasional barb.
Philip Glass comes after that with his solo piano work, Mad Rush (1979). Ms. Dinnerstein describes the music of the disc as the kind to get lost in, and that’s no better expressed than in the Glass piece. It’s kind of looking-glass music (pun intended) with ripples and reflections of all sorts. Ms. Dinnerstein’s gentle yet firm approach has us drifting through a kaleidoscope of musical colors.
Then we get more from Couperin, Tic Toc Choc, a whimsical representation of the rhythms of a clock. Given its eighteenth-century origins, the piece sounds surprisingly modern in Ms. Dinnerstein’s hands.
Then, there’s Gnossienne No. 3 by French composer Erik Satie (1888). “Gnossienne” was a word Satie invented, probably to remind listeners of “gnostic” or spiritual knowledge or maybe of “gnossus” from ancient Crete. Whatever, it is intensely mystical and contemplative.
The program’s penultimate work is the longest, Schumann’s Kreisleriana, a selection of eight movements for solo piano (1838). Schumann regarded it as his favorite work. Here, Ms. Dinnerstein lets her hair down, so to speak, pursuing the sometimes tempestuous, sometimes tranquil segments with equally warmhearted vigor.
Ms. Dinnerstein concludes the disc, appropriately, with a refrain: Couperin’s Les Barricades Redux.
Adam Abeshouse produced and engineered the album, which he recorded in Ms. Dinnerstein’s home in Brooklyn, NY in November 2020. The piano, recorded somewhat closely, sounds honeyed and mellow, with a warm, rich quality that greatly complements the music. Then, too, a mildly resonant acoustic also contributes to the disc’s pleasures.
JJP
The music according to Karl:
Despite that talk of solitary cemetery strolls, the music she has chosen is not morose. The piece by Francois Couperin that opens and closes the album is ruminative, though. Indeed, it would seem that framing the album this way is evidence of a deft artistic touch, the pianist’s way of communicating that she intending her program to be understood as a framed musical composition that she has put together purposefully, beginning and ending a musical journey with something on her mind. Besides, Les Barricades Mysterieuses is an entrancing composition, well worth hearing played twice, ever so slightly slowly to finish the program. Between those opening and closing tunes, there is a varied program that spans the centuries. Following the opening Couperin, Schumann’s Arabesque seems somehow to sustain a similar feeling despite being dissimilar in style. The pace then picks up as Dinnerstein leans into the pulsing rhythms of Philip Glass’s Mad Rush. I know there are some who are wary of anything by Glass, but to my ears at least, his piano music represents some of the best of his output, and Mad Rush is an excellent piece that sounds perfectly placed in this program. After a brief bon-bon from Couperin, we then come to the longest composition, taking up more than half the time on the CD, Schumann’s Kreisleriana, which consists of eight sections. The music and the mood here are certainly different from the Glass, the Satie, or even the other Schumann, but I quibble. Others may find it more perfectly blended in than did I. My only other quibble is with the liner notes, which are quite brief. It would have been rewarding to have some more insight from Ms. Dinnerstein as to how she came to choose the particular composers and compositions and why she presented them in the order she chose for her program. Still, when you come down to it, this is a really nice release, with a well-played, well-recorded, and thoughtfully chosen program -- music to get lost in.
KWN
To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:
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