Recent Releases, No. 30 (CD reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Tilman Sillescu: Symphony No. 1 “Nachtlichter.” Christian K. Frank, Staatskapelle Weimar. GENUIN Classics GEN 22788.

What follows is yet another example of those chance events that leads to the discovery of a composer and composition heretofore unknown that turns out to be a rewarding musical discovery. A month or so ago I was scrolling through my Twitter feed when I came across a tweet by someone who posted a photo of the cover of this CD along with a brief word of enthusiasm. Intrigued, I immediately did an online search and saw that it was a brand-new release. Acting on impulse (the cover art was irresistible!), I immediately ordered a copy. Only after placing my order did I actually audition it by streaming dribs and drabs through my phone to my Bluetooth speaker – just enough to reassure me that Nachtlichter (“nocturnal lights”) was not some awful unlistenable release that would make me immediately want to cancel my purchase. It wasn’t, so I didn’t.

While I waited for the CD to arrive, I did a little research and discovered that Tilman Sillescu (b. 1969) is a German composer of music for video games who has also composed for movies and television. Much of his music for those genres has been orchestral, so as he explains in his liner note essay. “I have wanted to compose a large orchestral work for ages, but with my time-consuming work as a soundtrack composer, I never had the time, and to be honest, leisure until now. You can certainly imagine how clear an ambitious composer’s head is in the evening when he has already spent eight hours coming up with listener-friendly game music. However, I was highly motivated to finally use my classical training and love of symphonies for something greater; and fortunately I succeeded, albeit with a lot of effort and energy. My goal for Nachtlichter was to find a simple and accessible musical language, which allows the listener to feel emotions and see images without having these images imposed on him. Music that comprises beauty, mysticism, irony and drama, and at the same time is able to stimulate the mind with its formal structure and harmonies. It has become a symphonic narration of the night with all of its fathomless beauty and wondrous, exhilarating lights and its, in part, terrifying secrets.”  

The image on the cover, with its dark forest and mysterious lights, had led my imagination to expect ethereal, hushed, mysterious music that would come shrouded in mists of mystery, but that was not to be the case; rather, what emanated from my speakers was bold and assertive – as Sillescu put it, “exhilarating lights.” Not that I am complaining, as I found the music imaginative and yes, exhilarating. And in the final moments of the first movement, and in a few places thereafter, there are some of those quieter, more mysterious passages. My only quibble is that to my mind, I would like to have heard more contrast among the movements; Sillescu has been successful in finding his musical language, but he needs to work on being able to adapt it more convincingly to various symphonic forms. There were times when it seemed, at least to these ears, that he just has a tendency to “overscore” – that the orchestration would have benefitted from being peeled backed a little. As the late Colin Chapman, the brilliant automotive designer famous for his innovative racing car designs at Lotus used to urge his engineers, “add lightness.” Still, Nachtlichter is an impressive debut from a composer that I hope will bring us some more symphonies in the future. (I’m so heartless, greedy, and relentless – I would work these poor composers to death! More, more, MORE!!) As to the rest of the production, everything is just fine. Thinking about it, not only was the composer unknown to me, but so was the orchestra, conductor, and label – but they all came together just fine. The sound can have just a slight tendency toward brightness, but nothing excessive; otherwise it is quite satisfactory. As my old friend and colleague Bill Heck and I have often discussed, it is gratifying to hear how modern recording technology has raised the overall standard; moreover, the overall standard of musicianship has improved throughout the world, with many more fine young musicians being available for orchestras to recruit into their ranks. This new release is a case in point and is well worth an audition.

Beethoven the Conquering Hero: Complete Works for Cello and Piano. CD1 12 Variations WoO on “See, the Conqu’ring Hero Comes”; Sonata No. 1 in F Op.5/1; Sonata No. 2 in G minor Op.5/2; CD2 12 Variations Op.66 on “Ein Madchen oder Weibchen”; Sonata in F Op.17; 7 Variations WoO 46 on “Bei Mannern, welche Liebe fuhlen”; CD3 Sonata No. 3 in A Op.69; Sonata No. 4 in C Op.102/1; Sonata No. 5 Op.102/2. Jennifer Kloetzel. Cello; Robert Koenig, piano. Avie AV2450.

Certainly one of the reasons that so many music lovers regard Beethoven as such a great – if not the greatest – of composers is his mastery of so many forms. His symphonies, string quartets, and piano sonatas are all generally acknowledged as some of the very finest of those respective genres. Only as a composer of opera is he seen to have fallen short, and there is often discussion of that; however, what seems often to be overlooked is how much other wonderful music he composed, and this recording presents and excellent reminder of just that. His works for cello and piano are simply delightful, spanning his career from early to fairly late, presenting a variety of moods and sonorities with just two instruments. Long ago, when I was first getting interested in classical music, I remember purchasing an LP set of this music performed by Casals and Serkin on the old Columbia Odyssey budget label, a set that I really enjoyed at the time – must have been 45 years or so ago when I was and undergrad going to school on the G.I Bill, living in a small basement apartment with my wife and out two young boys, listening to music through a pair of original Bose 901s I had bought with part of the reenlistment bonus I had received from the Army while serving in Pershing missile unit in what was then known as West Germany. Flash-forward to 2022 and here I am listening to this sparkling new three-disc set from AVIE, splendidly recorded at Skywalker Sound, which showcases committed performances by cellist Kloetzel and pianist Koenig that have reminded me once again just how musically satisfying these pieces can be. If you are not familiar with Beethoven’s music for cello and piano, you owe it to yourself to sit down and give it a good listen, and I can think of no better place to start than with this superb new release, which is excellent in every way.  

Martin Fröst: Night Passages. Domenico Scarlatti: Sonata in D Minor K 32; Chick Corea: Children's Song No. 15; J.S. Bach: Jesus Bleibet Meine Freude; Henry Purcell: Music for a While (from Oedipus, Z. 583); Richard Rodgers: It Never Entered My Mind (from the musical Higher and Higher); Jean-Philippe Rameau: Air pour les Sauvages; Antonio Cesti: Intorno All' Idol Mio (from L'Orontea); Bach: 3-Part Sinfonia No. 5 in E-Flat Major BWV 791; Corea: Armando's Rhumba; Purcell: Hornpipe in E Minor; Handel: Menuet in G Minor; Domenico Scarlatti: Sonata in D Minor K 1; Rameau: Musette Tendre en Rondeau; Alfvén: Vallflickans Dans; Bach: 3-Part Sinfonia No. 15 in B Minor BWV 801; Fröst: Prelude to Dorotea; Trad.: Polska From Dorotea; Rameau: Tambourin en Rondeau; Gordon Jenkins: Goodbye. Martin Fröst, clarinet; Sébastian Dubé, bass; Roland Pöntinen, piano. Sony Classics 19439917402.

I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it again: oh, I’m a fool for a clarinet. I’ve played the clarinet, never worth a damn, but there’s much more than that to my deep and abiding love for the sweet sound of the “licorice stick” (a term that no doubt dates me, alas). One of my long-time musical heroes is clarinetist Richard Stoltzman (b. 1942), not only for his virtuosity on the clarinet, his being a fellow Buckeye (he earned a bachelor's degree from the Ohio State University with a double major in music and mathematics), but also for his willingness to play all kinds of music – not just classical, but jazz, “New Age,” old, new, Asian, European, American – whatever. He played it, and he played it well. I am now delighted to say that I have apparently chanced upon a new clarinet hero, the Swedish clarinetist (and conductor) Martin Fröst (b. 1951), whose new Sony release Night Passages includes music that covers a number of styles and periods all on one eclectic CD, as you can gather from the track listing above.

Before I offer an excerpt from the liner notes in which Fröst explains how the album came to be, let me explain why his explanation had a special meaning for me. My youngest daughter (now an adult with two children of her own, to date me further) has been suffering from dizziness/vertigo issues, which have become worse in the wake of her second (light) bout of COVID-19 (although fully vaccinated and cautious, she owns and manages a restaurant, with a bunch of young employees who have not always been particularly careful). For a time, it was thought she might have Mënière’s disease, which causes vertigo and is incurable. Although for now she does not seem to have Mënière’s, she still struggles with vertigo and is undergoing therapy which is itself quite physically and emotionally challenging. Based on seeing what my daughter has been going through, I have some sense of what Fröst has been struggling with as he writes: “I recorded Night Passages after my wort episode ever of Mënière’s disease. It made me rethink a lot of things. The episode ended with a severe Mënière’s attack while I was driving my car. After the car finally stopped, totally off balance, I felt, in my dizziness, it was night again. Slowly light, shapes, language emerged from this formless chaos. Memories and dreams from my childhood where I saw God in a pile of leaves. My first meeting with Miles Davis. When I played music for Paul Sacher and Hortense Anda as they danced their last dance together in Zurich. When my father cracked someone’s ribs while dancing to Swedish polskas with the ladies at our summerhouse. Or when, as a teenager, I listened to the music of Bach night after night. A while after my car accident I met up with my friends Sébastian Dubé and Roland Pöntinen who looked at the repertoire through fresh eyes and rearranged the music. Enjoy the fusion.”

I don’t think you would have to be a fool for the sound of the clarinet to enjoy what these three musicians have put together, as this album is a delight from start to finish. Jumping from Scarlatti to From Scarlatti to Chick Corea to Bach to Purcell to Purcell to Richard Rodgers – and oh, my goodness, the playing of trio on his It Never Entered My Mind truly is a perfect fusion of jazz and classical sounds. It swings, it sings, it lifts and inspires. Fröst coaxes some limpidly delicate notes from his clarinet that are simply breathtaking. Later, in Corea’s Armando’s Rhumba, he shows a more playful, boisterous side to his playing that fits this piece perfectly. The program closes with a moving performance of Goodbye by Gordon Jenkins. In the liner notes, Fröst relates how the first time he played at Carnegie Hall, there was an exhibition about Bennie Goodman, and he wound up being able to play Goodman’s actual clarinet during his performance. “I played that night on Benny’s clarinet and after the Copland Clarinet Concerto I performed Goodbye by Gordon Jenkins – that tune had been Benny’s last song at the end of his shows. Having listened to him playing it since the days of my childhood I have performed it as an encore ever since.”

The liner notes are brief reflections by Fröst about memories, dreams, and incidents in his life as well as the influence that music and musicians had on him. Although it might have been interesting to hear more about how the music was chosen, or about the other musicians, the notes are interesting in their own right. Still, it would have been nice to have some more factual information. The engineering is crisp and clear – the instruments, especially the clarinet, captured a bit close, so you can hear some breathing and key clicks, but never to the point of distraction. Highly recommended.

Mendelssohn: Violin Sonatas. Violin Sonata in in F major, MWV Q26; Violin Sonata in F minor Op 4; Violin Sonata in in F Major MWV Q7; Violin Sonata in D MWV Q18 (fragment). Alina Ibragimova, violin; Cedric Tiberghien, piano. Hyperion CDA68322.

At first glance you might well assume from the title – as did I – that this new release from Hyperion includes some, or perhaps even all, of Felix Mendelssohn’s sonatas for violin and piano. After all, most of us are probably not really all that well versed on just how many sonatas in that format he actually wrote. However, I suspect that many of you will be surprised to learn – as was I – that Mendelssohn actually only published one such sonata in his lifetime, the  Violin Sonata in F minor Op 4, which dates from 1823. And oh, by the way, he was born in 1809, which means he was all of 14 when he wrote it. (When I was 14, I composed about ten measures of music for solo clarinet. It was atonal, amusical, and abysmal. It comprised the early, middle, and late periods of my career. Sorry, music scholars, but the manuscript has been lost.) When you listen to the piece, you would never guess it was composed by someone so young; truly, it sounds like the work of a mature musical talent, which the teenaged Mendelssohn surely already was. The program opens with an unpublished sonata that he composed 15 years later. The famed violin virtuoso Yehudi Menuhin had finally published a first edition in 1953, but according to the liner notes, this version conflated the two autograph versions of the first movement and took considerable editorial liberties as well. The version performed here is from a version published in 2009 that is faithful to Mendelssohn’s original unrevised score. It is a remarkably expressive work, with an especially touching slow movement marked poco adagio. The final two works on the program date from 1820, when Mendelssohn was 11 years old; not surpisingly, they are less impressive than the two preceding works. The Violin Sonata in in F Major is in three brief movements that although quite listenable, sound a bit routine in comparison to what Mendelssohn was to conjure just a few short years later. The  final track, coming in at 7:37, actually seems more interesting, but he abandoned the Violin Sonata in D, Violin Sonata in D, so we will never know where it might have gone had he come back to it later in his career. As is the norm from Hyperion, the engineering is a bit on the warm and distant side (just a bit, mind you), just right for chamber music, and the liner notes and even the cover art are intelligent and thoughtfully chosen. If this repertoire interests you, this is a release well worth seeking out.  

Schubert: The Last Quartets. CD1 String Quartet No. 15 in G Major D.887; CD2 String Quartet No. 14 in D minor “Death and the Maiden” D.810. Aviv Quartet (Sergey Ostrovsky, violin; Philippe Villafranca, violin; Noémie Bialobroda, viola; Daniel Mitnitsky, cello). Aparte AP266.

The final two string quartets of Franz Schubert are two of the great masterpieces of chamber music. If you are relatively new to classical music, please be forewarned that these are not compositions that are going to immediately soothe your ear with pretty melodies. That is not to say that they are screechy, dissonant, atonal monstrosities; rather, that they are serious, sober, rather intense pieces that were intended for more serious listening as opposed to light entertainment. To my mind, they are like two mighty symphonies – it’s just that Schubert condensed them down to be played by two violins, viola, and cello rather than an orchestra. No. 14, “Death and the Maiden,” was written after a prolonged stay in the hospital for treatment for what was most likely syphilis (which was incurable at the time) had made Schubert aware that he most likely was not likely to have very many years left to live. As the liner notes observe, the overall mood of the piece is “dark and tragic, reflecting the composer’s despondency at that time and his struggle to come to terms with the idea of death. Unusually, all four movements are in minor keys; only two episodes are in major: the fourth variation of the second movement, and the trio of the third.” But although yes, the music is dark, its very darkness gives it a focus and intensity that the playing of the Israeli-based Aviv Quartet and the audiophile-quality sonics combine to deliver an intense musical experience that reveals the beauty of Schubert’s writing for these four instruments. Likewise in No. 15, which Schubert envisioned as something of a dress rehearsal for his final symphony. In the hands of the Aviv foursome, this mighty string quartet, whose four movements total nearly over 55 minutes in this performance, longer than many actual symphonies, truly does sound symphonic in scope and vision. It is an incredible composition that is impeccably performed and flawlessly recorded. What’s not to like?

KWN