Danny Elfman: Percussion Concerto (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Wunderkammer; Percussion Concerto – Triangle/D.S.C.H./Down/Syncopate*; Are You Lost?**. *Colin Currie, percussion; **Kantos Chamber Choir; Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra; JoAnn Falletta, conductor. Sony Classical 19659889842

 

The composer Danny Elfman (b. 1953) is probably most widely known for his work as a film composer: some of his many notable credits include the soundtracks for The Nightmare Before Christmas, Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands, Good Will Hunting, Batman, Spiderman, Mission Impossible, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. In addition to all that, millions of fans owe him a debt of gratitude for composing the theme music that opens The Simpsons. He is also a singer, and in fact led the new wave band Oingo Boingo (1979-1995). As the twenty-first century made its appearance, Elfman began to compose serious classical music including a piano quartet, a percussion quartet, a violin concerto, and a cello concerto – and of course, the compositions on this lively new release from Sony Classics.

 

Elfman (left) relates in the liner notes that he was in London working on a film score just before the COVID-19 pandemic when his manager suggested that he meet with the National Youth Orchestra of Great Britain (NYOGB), who had expressed an interest in a commission. At first Elfman was skeptical about the idea of a youth orchestra, but after attending a NYOGB concert performance, he recounts, “I was, “to say the least, blown away by how good they were. I decided on the spot that I would indeed find a way to write a piece for them. So I jumped into the composition that’s now called Wunderkammer. My original intention was to create something that was very challenging for them, as I knew they were up for that, and something that would also be fun and exciting for them to dig into, which might feature different instrument sections to give everyone a moment to shine.” Shining here are sections of the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra as under the baton of JoAnn Falletta (pictured below) they take us on a tour of Elfman’s three “wonder rooms,” which are by turns relatively fast, slow, and fast. The outer movements have a bouncy, loping feel to them, while the middle movement has an element of spookiness lurking about. All three give the players plenty to do – there are even some vocal passages. 

Elfman’s Percussion Concerto has its roots in his travels in West Africa as a teenager, where he began collecting and learning to play balafons (similar to a marimba). Later, in his twenties, he played in Indonesian gamelan ensembles and then built his own wood and metal percussion ensembles for theater performances. He writes that “shortly after the 2017 premiere of my first violin to concerto, I had a chance meeting with percussionist Colin Currie in London. We decided it could be great fun to create a piece together. I was excited to plunge into the challenge of another concerto, while at the same time to really go back to my roots with wood and metal, mallets and sticks and hands. I also knew Colin was an extraordinary musician who would be great to collaborate with.  And I was aware that there that there were far fewer concertos for percussion than for the more obvious instruments like piano, violin, cello, etc., and that meant there were far fewer models to guide me, which made the idea of a percussion concerto far more enticing.” 

Currie (left) gets a chance to strut his stuff right from the get-go, playing a variety of percussion instruments to open the first of the four movements, Triangle. This is followed by D.S.C.H., a movement that manages to capture the feeling of a Shostakovich symphonic movement – that feeling that the Soviet composer is writing celebratory music while nervously fearing for his life. Elfman has penned a worthy tribute here! The third movement, Down, is more down in tempo, more brooding in mood, strings and more reflective percussion from Currie. The energy level picks back up in the finale, Syncopate, in which the temp increases and Currie cuts loose once again, supported energetically by the orchestra, including notably tympani and big bass drum. It’s a fun movement for turning up your stereo and letting your neighbors know you’re home – and syncopated!

After all the fun and energy of the two preceding percussion-oriented pieces, Are You Lost? seems a bit out of place. Elfman mentions that the folks at Sony Classical had suggested that for this recording of Wunderkammer and the Percussion Concerto, he should also include a piece that had never been recorded before. As a result, he decided to recast a movement from a trio he had written for violin, voice, and piano into a composition for choir and full orchestra. Interestingly, the opening notes of are you lost of Are You Lost? echo the opening notes of Syncopate, so perhaps it is not completely out of place after all. Still, it seems tacked on, something of an afterthought. It’s an okay piece; however, it really would have made more sense to place it between rather than after its discmates. 

 Although more extensive liner notes would be welcome, the sonics are impressive and overall, the release is a refreshingly original and bracingly refreshing blast of fresh air. I will admit that when I first auditioned it, I was unimpressed; it took a few sessions for the music to come. To life for me. Once it did, however, I found it to be music that well-crafted and completely satisfying. It’s music that will make you smile. Highly recommended.

Oded Tzur: My Prophet (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring 

Epilogue; Child You; Through a Land Unsown; Renata; My Prophet; Last Bike Ride in Paris. Oded Tzur, tenor saxophone; Nitai Hershkovits, piano; Petros Klampanis, double bass; Cyrano Almeida, drums. ECM 2821 651 4241

 

The Israeli-born New York-based tenor saxophonist Oded Tzur (b. 1984) has developed a distinctive tone and style of playing that gives his music an appeal capable of drawing in listeners who might not typically characterize themselves as jazz fans. Tzur studied Indian classical music; moreover, he was inspired to adapt techniques from masters of Indian instruments to the saxophone, enabling him to play microtones and slide between notes that the instrument would normally produce. This ability adds an extra sense of lyricism to his playing; in addition, much of the time the sound he draws from his instrument makes it seem as though he is somehow simply modulating some primal breath rather than blowing himself – as if he is the conduit, not the ultimate source of the breath, and thus the sound. It’s truly uncanny. 

 

We previously reviewed a recording by the pianist from this ensemble, Nitai Hershkovits, (you can read that review here). His energetic playing is a welcome complement to Tzur’s saxophone stylings, while Klampanis on bass and Almeida on drums provide solid and steady rhythmic support. From the sliding notes of Epilogue (can that really be a tenor sax?) through the bouncing rhythms of Child You, the plaintive call of Through a Land Unsown, the tender portrait of Renata, the heartfelt ode My Prophet, ending with the rowdy Last Bike Ride in Paris, Tzur and his fellow musicians deliver a spellbinding musical experience that should have appeal for a far wider audience than just hardcore jazz fans. 

Weinberg String Quartets, Volume 4 (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

String Quartet No. 6 in E Minor, Op. 35; String Quartet No. 13, Op. 118; String Quartet No. 15, Op. 124. Arcadia Quartet. Chandos CHAN 20281

It’s been over a year since I reviewed the previous installment of this series. On that occasion I suggested something of a dichotomy in Weinberg’s music between works that show an appealing personality, and works lacking it. The quartets on this recording only deepen the impression, with a further divide between early and later styles becoming all the more apparent. They include the Sixth, Thirteenth, and Fifteenth Quartets, which means you’re going to get one fairly tuneful work and two mostly forgettable stretches of dull noodling. I wish he had stuck with his romantic, folk-affiliated phase. 

The Sixth Quartet (1946) is the last that Weinberg completed for approximately a decade. It comprises the same number of movements as its designation, and is the first in the cycle to stretch to as many. I mention this because it curiously foreshadows the Fifteenth Quartet in that its second and third movements are extremely short, spanning just 2-3 minutes each. These quick, punchy movements briefly explore a scherzo-like aesthetic, but we will see with the Fifteenth that nearly every one of its nine movements do so. The lengthier first movement of No. 6 strongly reminds me of Shostakovich, with its mysterious dance-like theme and everything that follows. The same could be said for its fifth and sixth movements, which delve into fugal textures. The finale is ripped straight from DDS, especially its tunes and dramatic accompaniments. I would say that there is less in the Sixth Quartet of what makes Weinberg special than there is in the Fourth. And you know what? That’s fine… because the music is engaging, melodious, and speaks directly to the emotions. 

Your mileage may vary, but I am mostly bored by the Thirteenth (1977) and Fifteenth (1979) Quartets which, truthfully, are the products of a dispiriting decade. The Thirteenth is in one continuous movement that lasts for approximately 15 minutes. You hear the same things here as you do in much other late Weinberg: dour themes of angular profile, dissonant harmonies interspersed with occasional triadic relief, and meandering forms. None of this music is terribly arresting. At least with the Fifteenth Quartet we have short enough movements that uninteresting (or sometimes vaguely interesting) materials do not wear out their welcome. A variety of character states in each movement (yes, a poor variety…but a variety nonetheless) aids listener concentration better than in the Thirteenth. The Shostakovich influence is keen in the Fifteenth Quartet. But as in the Sixteenth, I find the music to be a pale reflection of the mannerisms it borrows from the great Soviet composer’s own late style. 

Not every reader will like this, but as I get older I get increasingly impatient with music I consider to be stuffy. And I find two-thirds of this recording’s compositions to be stuffy, notwithstanding more excellent playing by the Arcadia Quartet. Again, I can handle Shostakovich imitation if the results are engaging. But Shostakovich imitation in combination with unrelenting dreariness quickly diminishes my reasons to stick around any longer than I must. I’ve gradually shaped up to be an Early Weinberg Fan. If this makes me anti-intellectual or anti-modernist, I can live with that.

Pat Metheny: MoonDial (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

MoonDial; La Crosse; Corea/Potter: You’re Everything; Lennon/McCartney: Here, There, and Everywhere; Metheny: We Can’t See It, But It’s There; Falcon Love; Dennis/Adair: Everything Happens to Me/(Bernstein/Sondheim): Somewhere; Traditional: Londonderry Air; Metheny: This Belongs to You; Shõga; Raskin/Mercer: My Love and I; Dennis/Brent: Angel Eyes: Metheny: MoonDial (Epilogue). Pat Metheny, guitar. BMG 964026842

Guitarist Pat Metheny (b.1954) has enjoyed a long and productive career that has taken him to venues large and small all around the globe. In addition to leading his own ensembles, he has played with a veritable who’s who of jazz musicians. He was turned on to jazz at an early age by his older brother Mike (who became a jazz trumpeter) when Mike brought home records by trumpeter Miles Davis and guitarist Wes Montgomery. He began practicing in earnest, honing his skills by sitting in at local venues in the Kansas City area. While still a teenager, Metheny was recruited by vibraphone master Gary Burton to join his group; in addition, at age 18 Metheny became the youngest guitar instructor ever at the University of Miami and then at 19 taught at Berklee. In 1975, with the encouragement of Burton, Metheny made his first recording as a leader, Bright Size Life, for the ECM label. He has made dozens of recordings over the years, both in group and solo settings, to date earning him an impressive 20 Grammy awards; moreover, he is the only artist ever to have won Grammys in 10 different categories.

 

Metheny with his baritone guitar

In 1977, he formed the Pat Metheny Group, which began as a quartet built around the nucleus of Metheny on guitar and the prodigiously gifted keyboard player and composer Lyle Mays (1953-2020). By the time I took my young sons in the fall of 1981 to their first-ever concert, to see the PMG, the original bassist and drummer had been replaced and the group was now a sextet. Over the ensuing decades, Metheny has made some memorable music, never resting on his laurels or being content to play his familiar compositions over and over again, always striving to create something new, pushing himself as a composer and arranger as well as a guitarist. From his earlier albums with his Pat Metheny Group (Still Life Talking and We Live Here are noteworthy examples highlighting his melodic gifts, along with those of his gifted keyboard companion, the late Lyle Mays) through his final album with the group, The Way Up, which is virtually a through-composed symphonic-style piece by Metheny that strains against the limitations of a small jazz ensemble, Metheny followers could sense that he was more than just a guitarist, he was a composer whose chosen instrument was the guitar. 

 

Pikasso guitar

In 2020 he returned to the studio with a new group to release From This Place, a flowingly lyrical album that included some symphonic accompaniment. At 76 minutes, it was an amazing achievement, emphasizing once again Metheny’s gift for composition as well as his prowess on the guitar. In 2021, he released his first overtly classical recording, Road to the Sun, which finds Metheny stepping back as a performer and forward as a composer, penning a solo piece for classical guitarist Jason Vieaux and an ensemble piece for the Los Angeles Guitar Quartet. He does perform one composition, however, but not one of his own: Für Alina by the Estonian composer Arvo Pärt, which Metheny performs on his one-of-a kind custom-made 42-string “Pikasso” guitar. You can read our review of the album here.

Then in 2023 Metheny released Dream Box, an album of primarily lyrical, inward-looking music, most of which he recorded using a hollow-bodied electric guitar (which musicians refer to as a “dream box,” hence the album’s title). Although the guitar might be electric, the sound is smooth and mellow. At the end our review (which you can read here), we mentioned that Metheny was embarking on a solo tour – the Dream Box tour – centered around the music from the album. In March of 2024 I caught his concert in Columbus, Ohio – an amazing evening that saw Metheny perform on 6- and 12-string acoustic guitars, his hollow-body electric as well as other electrics, his 42-string Pikasso, and even his MIDI-controlled, solenoid-driven Orchestrion. At one point during his two-and-a-half-hour performance he brought out the guitar he plays on Moon Dial, which he explained was a six-string baritone nylon-string guitar that had been custom made for him by his friend Linda Manzer. He played several songs on it, which sounded excellent except for one problem. Although the guitar was acoustic, the size of the venue meant that it had to be amplified; unfortunately, the loudspeaker columns had a bass emphasis/resonance that played havoc with the sound of the lower strings of the guitar. 

 

In the MoonDial liner notes, Metheny tells the story of how this particular baritone guitar came to be (it turns out that finding nylon strings capable of handling the unusual tuning he prefers was a challenge), how he came to use it more and more during the Dream Box tour, and how after the first extended part of the tour went to break, he headed to the studio so that he could “capture the magic of this new sound as quickly as possible and build on the immediate experiences of playing it every night for several months while it was all still fresh. The result of this journey is this recording: MoonDial.” You can watch a YouTube video of Metheny discussing the making of the album here.

 

Although the compositions are varied, the prevailing mood is remarkably consistent throughout the album. Yes, there are subtle shifts in melody, rhythm, and harmony, but the whole transcends its parts. If any particular tune stands out from the rest, it might be the Lennon/McCartney tune Here, There, and Everywhere, at least to these boomer ears, but even there, Metheny’s gift for improvisation and the sweet tones of the baritone guitar carry this music far beyond the familiar. As Metheny notes, “the feeling of this record follows the instrument’s nature. The central vibe here is one of resonant contemplation. This guitar allows me to go deep. Deep to a place that I maybe have never quite gotten to before. This is a dusk-to-dawn record, hard-core mellow.”  Hard-core mellow might strike classical music lovers as a strange way to describe music; however, it strikes me as a perfectly apt descriptor of some of the beloved piano music of Debussy. In any event, MoonDial is a beautiful recording, highly recommended to jazz and classical fans alike.