By Karl W. Nehring
Arc II
Ravel: Le Tombeau de Couperin; Brahms: Variations on a Theme by R Schumann, Op. 9; Shostakovich: Piano Sonata No. 2 in B minor, Op 61; Brahms: 11 Chorale Preludes for Organ, Op. 122 (arr. for piano by F. Busoni) (excerpts) No. 10 in A minor, “Herzlich tut mich verlangen” (My heart is filled with longing); No. 11 in F major, “O Welt, ich muss dich lassen” (O World, I must leave you). Orion Weiss, piano. First Hand Records FHR128.
Ohio-born pianist Orion Weiss (b. 1981) has undertaken a recording project that will eventually yield three releases. My review of Arc I, the first release in the series, can be found here: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/04/piano-potpourri-no-6-cd-reviews.html. In his liner notes for that album, Weiss explains that “the arc of this recital trilogy is inverted, like a rainbow’s reflection in water. Arc I’s first steps head downhill, beginning from hope and proceeding to despair. The bottom of the journey, Arc II, is Earth’s center, grief, loss, the lowest we can reach. The return trip, Arc III, is one of excitement and renewal, filled with the joy of rebirth and anticipation of a better future.” He goes on to give a quick preview and chronological overview: Arc I (Granados, Janacek, Scriabin) from before World War I; Arc II (Ravel, Shostakovich, Brahms) from during World Wars I and II, during times of grief; Arc III (Schubert, Debussy, Brahms, Dohnanyi, Talma) from young composers, times of joy, after World War I and after World War II.
Although the above might seem to indicate that the present release might be quite a morose listening experience, “grief, loss, the lowest we can reach,” such is not the case. Although this is not a collection of lighthearted pieces, it is not devoted to darkness and despair. As Weiss describes it, “this album strives to understand the varying ways composers comprehend grief, loss, and death. How did they cope, their hearts broken, their peace gone? In this compilation of works I have tried to follow the paths these great composers walked in their own grief. Their tracks lead us from death back towards life, from horror to hope.” We may be at the bottom of the arc, but Weiss already has us looking up, which is evident form the opening measures of Ravel’s Le Tombeau de Couperin. Weiss brings a sparkle to the familiar Prelude that makes it sound new and wonderful even if you have heard it so many, many times before in both piano and orchestral guise. To my ear, Weiss seem to let us hear what both his hands are playing, somehow making the music sound more complex and colorful, drawing your ears and imagination more deeply into the music. Perhaps he is aided in this by the engineering, which is superb. In any event, this is a first-class rendition of the Ravel.
Next up is the first of the music of Brahms to appear on this album, these “Short variations of a Theme by Him, Dedicated to Her,” (referring to Robert and Clara Schumann ) as the 20-year-old Brahms called this composition, which he wrote in the wake of Robert’s attempted suicide and subsequent institutionalization. Weiss characterizes it as “a homage to his friend and mentor, a first love letter to Clara and a book of condolences to the Schumann family.” Like the Ravel, then, it is music of varying moods, which Weiss communicates effectively with clarity and precision. The intensity level ratchets up several notches as Weiss next tackles a piece written nearly a century after the Brahms, Shostakovich’s Piano Sonata No. 2 from 1943, which Weiss describes as “emotional, romantic, wild, and raw.” This is not music for the faint of heart, and it is definitely not music for background listening. There are times when both hands are pounding out notes; at other times, the music is just a note at a time played by one hand. Weiss is well up to the challenge of delivering the emotional impact without taking it over the top.
Like a SCUBA diver returning slowly to the surface to avoid the bends, Weiss allows listeners the chance to decompress by returning to the music of Brahms for the final segment of the program. As Weiss points out, this is not the same Brahms whose music we encountered previously on this CD. “More than 40 years after Op. 9, Brahms was at the end of his life. Sick, weak, worried for the future of music, and bereft of his life-long friend Clara, his music took on increasingly religious themes. These organ settings of centuries-old Lutheran hymns (transcribed for piano by his longtime admirer Ferrucio Busoni) tighten the thread between himself and Bach, between himself and his faith. Brahms’ compositional epilogue dates from immediately after Clara’s funeral; the Chorale Preludes, grieving yet heartbreakingly accepting and courageous, were the last notes he ever wrote.” After the anxiety and tension of the Shostakovich, the calmly reflective music of Brahms, although tinged with sadness, offers emotional closure and peace. Weiss caresses the keyboard in these chorales, communicating hope amidst grief.
Ohio-born pianist Orion Weiss (b. 1981) has undertaken a recording project that will eventually yield three releases. My review of Arc I, the first release in the series, can be found here: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/04/piano-potpourri-no-6-cd-reviews.html. In his liner notes for that album, Weiss explains that “the arc of this recital trilogy is inverted, like a rainbow’s reflection in water. Arc I’s first steps head downhill, beginning from hope and proceeding to despair. The bottom of the journey, Arc II, is Earth’s center, grief, loss, the lowest we can reach. The return trip, Arc III, is one of excitement and renewal, filled with the joy of rebirth and anticipation of a better future.” He goes on to give a quick preview and chronological overview: Arc I (Granados, Janacek, Scriabin) from before World War I; Arc II (Ravel, Shostakovich, Brahms) from during World Wars I and II, during times of grief; Arc III (Schubert, Debussy, Brahms, Dohnanyi, Talma) from young composers, times of joy, after World War I and after World War II.
Although the above might seem to indicate that the present release might be quite a morose listening experience, “grief, loss, the lowest we can reach,” such is not the case. Although this is not a collection of lighthearted pieces, it is not devoted to darkness and despair. As Weiss describes it, “this album strives to understand the varying ways composers comprehend grief, loss, and death. How did they cope, their hearts broken, their peace gone? In this compilation of works I have tried to follow the paths these great composers walked in their own grief. Their tracks lead us from death back towards life, from horror to hope.” We may be at the bottom of the arc, but Weiss already has us looking up, which is evident form the opening measures of Ravel’s Le Tombeau de Couperin. Weiss brings a sparkle to the familiar Prelude that makes it sound new and wonderful even if you have heard it so many, many times before in both piano and orchestral guise. To my ear, Weiss seem to let us hear what both his hands are playing, somehow making the music sound more complex and colorful, drawing your ears and imagination more deeply into the music. Perhaps he is aided in this by the engineering, which is superb. In any event, this is a first-class rendition of the Ravel.
Next up is the first of the music of Brahms to appear on this album, these “Short variations of a Theme by Him, Dedicated to Her,” (referring to Robert and Clara Schumann ) as the 20-year-old Brahms called this composition, which he wrote in the wake of Robert’s attempted suicide and subsequent institutionalization. Weiss characterizes it as “a homage to his friend and mentor, a first love letter to Clara and a book of condolences to the Schumann family.” Like the Ravel, then, it is music of varying moods, which Weiss communicates effectively with clarity and precision. The intensity level ratchets up several notches as Weiss next tackles a piece written nearly a century after the Brahms, Shostakovich’s Piano Sonata No. 2 from 1943, which Weiss describes as “emotional, romantic, wild, and raw.” This is not music for the faint of heart, and it is definitely not music for background listening. There are times when both hands are pounding out notes; at other times, the music is just a note at a time played by one hand. Weiss is well up to the challenge of delivering the emotional impact without taking it over the top.
Like a SCUBA diver returning slowly to the surface to avoid the bends, Weiss allows listeners the chance to decompress by returning to the music of Brahms for the final segment of the program. As Weiss points out, this is not the same Brahms whose music we encountered previously on this CD. “More than 40 years after Op. 9, Brahms was at the end of his life. Sick, weak, worried for the future of music, and bereft of his life-long friend Clara, his music took on increasingly religious themes. These organ settings of centuries-old Lutheran hymns (transcribed for piano by his longtime admirer Ferrucio Busoni) tighten the thread between himself and Bach, between himself and his faith. Brahms’ compositional epilogue dates from immediately after Clara’s funeral; the Chorale Preludes, grieving yet heartbreakingly accepting and courageous, were the last notes he ever wrote.” After the anxiety and tension of the Shostakovich, the calmly reflective music of Brahms, although tinged with sadness, offers emotional closure and peace. Weiss caresses the keyboard in these chorales, communicating hope amidst grief.
Arc III awaits.
Wolfert Brederode: Ruins and Remains
Ruins I; Swallow: Remains; Cloudless; Ruins and Remains; Ka; Ruins II; Duhra; Ruins III; Retrouvailles; Nothing for granted; Dissolve; March; Ruins IV. Wolfert Brederode, piano; Matangi Quartet (Maria-Paula major, violin; Danile Torrico Menacho, violin; Karsten Kleijer, viola; Arno ven der Vuurst, cello); Joost Lijbaart, drums/percussion. ECM 2734 458 1864
Once again I present an album of music that can be seen as a hybrid of jazz and classical, an album for which the case can be made that it can be viewed as chamber music with a twenty-first century sensibility. The back story offered in the liner notes is that “originally commissioned to commemorate the one-hundredth anniversary of the end of the First World War, Ruins and Remains was premiered on Armistice Day in November 2018. Its pervading tone had drawn influence from the melancholic atmospheres of Philippe Claudel’s WWI novel Les Âmes grises, with its world of characters harbouring stark secrets. Over time, however, the suite has come to embody meanings broader and more personal, with wide-ranging resonances.’ At a number of levels, the piece has to do with grief and loss and learning to stand up again,’ Brederode says.”
Although the piece was originally composed by the Dutch pianist/composer Wolfert Brederode (b.1974) in 2018, this recording was not made until August, 2021, and the music evolved over that span. “Calling it an evolving suite gave me the liberty to change pieces and add pieces as we went along,” he explained. As the recording was made, with producer Manfred Eicher taking an active role in the proceedings, new sections were introduced, including two that were totally improvised, Nothing for granted and Dissolve. Brederode’s piano serves as the musical thread that ties most of the sound together, with the strings of the Matangi Quartet adding body and color while the drums and percussion provide sonic seasoning. Musical themes and phrases drift in and out of some of the pieces, offering a loose, almost dreamlike sense of unity to tbe proceedings. The music throughout sustains an atmosphere of introspection, mystery, and reflection; however, it is not without energy, nor is it without shape or form. The final selection, Ruins IV, ends inconclusively, leaving the listener suspended, free to draw her own inferences. The engineering is up the usual ECM benchmark, which is clear, clean, open, spacious sound.
Scenes in Tin Can Alley: Piano Music of Florence Price
Once again I present an album of music that can be seen as a hybrid of jazz and classical, an album for which the case can be made that it can be viewed as chamber music with a twenty-first century sensibility. The back story offered in the liner notes is that “originally commissioned to commemorate the one-hundredth anniversary of the end of the First World War, Ruins and Remains was premiered on Armistice Day in November 2018. Its pervading tone had drawn influence from the melancholic atmospheres of Philippe Claudel’s WWI novel Les Âmes grises, with its world of characters harbouring stark secrets. Over time, however, the suite has come to embody meanings broader and more personal, with wide-ranging resonances.’ At a number of levels, the piece has to do with grief and loss and learning to stand up again,’ Brederode says.”
Although the piece was originally composed by the Dutch pianist/composer Wolfert Brederode (b.1974) in 2018, this recording was not made until August, 2021, and the music evolved over that span. “Calling it an evolving suite gave me the liberty to change pieces and add pieces as we went along,” he explained. As the recording was made, with producer Manfred Eicher taking an active role in the proceedings, new sections were introduced, including two that were totally improvised, Nothing for granted and Dissolve. Brederode’s piano serves as the musical thread that ties most of the sound together, with the strings of the Matangi Quartet adding body and color while the drums and percussion provide sonic seasoning. Musical themes and phrases drift in and out of some of the pieces, offering a loose, almost dreamlike sense of unity to tbe proceedings. The music throughout sustains an atmosphere of introspection, mystery, and reflection; however, it is not without energy, nor is it without shape or form. The final selection, Ruins IV, ends inconclusively, leaving the listener suspended, free to draw her own inferences. The engineering is up the usual ECM benchmark, which is clear, clean, open, spacious sound.
Scenes in Tin Can Alley; Thumbnail Sketches of a Day in the Life of a Washerwoman; Clouds; Village Scenes; Preludes; Cotton Dance; Three Miniature Portraits of Uncle Ned. Josh Tatsuo Cullen, piano. Blue Griffin Recording BGR615.
The American composer Florence Beatrice Price (1887-1953) was born in Little Rock, Arkansas. As a child in the South during that era, she was unfortunately rejected by her white teachers, so she received her first musical training from her mother. She showed remarkable musical talent, but because advanced musical training was largely unavailable to women of color in the South, her mother enrolled the 16-year-old Price in the New England Conservatory in Boston, majoring in organ and piano performance (while following her mother’s advice to present herself as being of Mexican descent). There she was taught music theory by the institution’s director, George Whitfield Chadwick, a leading figure of the so-called Second New England School of composers who had a special interest in African-American folk melodies and rhythms. Over the past couple of years there has been a spurt of interest in her life and works, resulting in a spate of recordings, several of which John Puccio and I have reviewed at Classical Candor:
https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/06/new-york-youth-symphony-cd-review.html
https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/04/recent-releases-no-27-cd-reviews.html
https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/10/violin-concertos-by-black-composers.html
Those recordings are all orchestral, while this new one is a collection of some of her compositions for piano. Like her orchestral music, this is music that is pleasant and downright fun to listen to. In his liner notes, pianist Josh Tatsuo Cullen makes a thought-provoking argument about Price’s writing for the piano. “As a person of mixed Japanese and European descent, I feel a strong connection to Price’s desire to elevate the marginalized people of her own mixed-race heritage in Scenes in Tin Can Alley, Thumbnail Sketches of a Day in the Life of a Washerwoman, and Three Miniature Portraits of Uncle Ned. Price’s treatment of these neglected subjects using the classical idiom is also very powerful to me because like Price, I began studying classical piano at an early age. Some critics have noted that Price speaks in a borrowed idiom, in the sense that she uses musical language reminiscent of Schumann and Chopin, and not a language she invented herself or that derives from the vernacular of her own heritage. But I would argue that this is precisely what makes it authentic to her: as the daughter of a well-trained singer and pianist, and educated at the New England Conservatory, the classical idiom was her idiom.”
Cullen clearly enjoys playing this music; from the opening measures of the title piece, Scenes in Tin Can Alley, the energy he brings to his playing sounds just right for portraying the emotions and characters that Price is trying to sketch in here scores. But neither Cullen’s playing nor Price’s music is all about energy and bounce; in contrast, the pieces Clouds and Village Scenes reveal a more introspective, impressionistic dimension that are the highlights of this well-played and well recorded album.
KWN
The American composer Florence Beatrice Price (1887-1953) was born in Little Rock, Arkansas. As a child in the South during that era, she was unfortunately rejected by her white teachers, so she received her first musical training from her mother. She showed remarkable musical talent, but because advanced musical training was largely unavailable to women of color in the South, her mother enrolled the 16-year-old Price in the New England Conservatory in Boston, majoring in organ and piano performance (while following her mother’s advice to present herself as being of Mexican descent). There she was taught music theory by the institution’s director, George Whitfield Chadwick, a leading figure of the so-called Second New England School of composers who had a special interest in African-American folk melodies and rhythms. Over the past couple of years there has been a spurt of interest in her life and works, resulting in a spate of recordings, several of which John Puccio and I have reviewed at Classical Candor:
https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/06/new-york-youth-symphony-cd-review.html
https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/04/recent-releases-no-27-cd-reviews.html
https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/10/violin-concertos-by-black-composers.html
Those recordings are all orchestral, while this new one is a collection of some of her compositions for piano. Like her orchestral music, this is music that is pleasant and downright fun to listen to. In his liner notes, pianist Josh Tatsuo Cullen makes a thought-provoking argument about Price’s writing for the piano. “As a person of mixed Japanese and European descent, I feel a strong connection to Price’s desire to elevate the marginalized people of her own mixed-race heritage in Scenes in Tin Can Alley, Thumbnail Sketches of a Day in the Life of a Washerwoman, and Three Miniature Portraits of Uncle Ned. Price’s treatment of these neglected subjects using the classical idiom is also very powerful to me because like Price, I began studying classical piano at an early age. Some critics have noted that Price speaks in a borrowed idiom, in the sense that she uses musical language reminiscent of Schumann and Chopin, and not a language she invented herself or that derives from the vernacular of her own heritage. But I would argue that this is precisely what makes it authentic to her: as the daughter of a well-trained singer and pianist, and educated at the New England Conservatory, the classical idiom was her idiom.”
Cullen clearly enjoys playing this music; from the opening measures of the title piece, Scenes in Tin Can Alley, the energy he brings to his playing sounds just right for portraying the emotions and characters that Price is trying to sketch in here scores. But neither Cullen’s playing nor Price’s music is all about energy and bounce; in contrast, the pieces Clouds and Village Scenes reveal a more introspective, impressionistic dimension that are the highlights of this well-played and well recorded album.
KWN
