Wynton Marsalis: Blues Symphony (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Wynton Marsalis: Blues Symphony. Detroit Symphony Orchestra; Jader Bignamini, conductor. PENTATONE PTC 5187 232

Wynton Marsalis (b. 1961) is a well-known figure in jazz circles. He is a member of a prominent New Orleans musical family. His late father, Ellis Marsalis (1934-2020) was a prominent jazz pianist and educator (for a real treat, try his album Twelve’s It). Ellis and his wife Dolores had six sons, four of whom – Branford (saxophone), Wynton (trumpet), Delfeayo (trombone), and Jason (drums, vibraphone) – became jazz musicians themselves. Of the four musician sons, Wynton and Branford especially have gone on to become major figures in the world of jazz; moreover, both have also released classical recordings as well. To date, Wynton Marsalis has received 32 Grammy nominations and has won nine times (he is the only musician ever to win in both the jazz and classical categories in the same year); in addition, he is the first jazz musician ever to win the Pulitzer Prize for music, which he was awarded in 1997 for his oratorio, Blood on the4 Fields. Branford Marsalis has received 18 Grammy nominations and has won three times, and the Branford Marsalis Quartet has received six nominations and has won once. Bringing further recognition to the family, at the 2023 Grammy Award ceremony, Ellis Marsalis was honored posthumously with a Lifetime Achievement Award. 

 

In the 1980s, Wynton was seen as a controversial figure in jazz circles because of his outspoken comments about the state of jazz at that time – he was often portrayed in the press as something like the anti-Miles Davis. Around the same time, he got into a bit of a feud with Branford, because he felt Branford had “sold out” by playing some gigs with the likes of the Grateful Dead. Ah, brothers, eh? Fast-forward to the present and both brothers are older, wiser, and more settled. Branford recently decided to leave California and return home to the New Orleans area because he felt a responsibility to mentor young musicians. His long-time quartet recently signed with the prestigious Blue Note label and are releasing an intriguing new album titled Belonging, which is their take on the classic ECM album with the same title recorded by Keith Jarrett’s European Quartet, which was originally released in 1974  As for Wynton, he has recorded umpteen dozens of albums over the years, has toured the world, garnered honors thither and yon, and been busy as a composer, arranger, and bandleader – for many years now with the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra.

Marsalis writes of his 2009 Blues Symphony that it “is a seven-movement work that gives a symphonic identity to the form and feeling of the blues. It utilizes regional and stylistic particulars of the idiom’s language and form to convey the basic point of view of the blues as music. ‘Life hands you hard times.’ This piece is intended to further the legacy of Scott Joplin, George Gershwin, James P. Johnson, Leonard Bernstein, John Lewis, Gunther Schuller, and others who were determined to add the innovations of jazz to the vocabulary of the symphonic orchestra. I believe there is an organic and real connection between all Western traditions regardless of instrumentation, and that the symphonic orchestra can and will swing, play the blues, feature melodic improvisation, and execute the more virtuosic aspects of jazz and American vernacular music with absolute authenticity.”

The work is divided into seven movements, which are titled as follows: I: Born in Hope; II: Swimming in Sorrow; III: Reconstruction Rag; IV: Southwestern Shakedown; V: Big City Breaks; VI: Danzón y Mambo, Choro y Samba; VII: Dialog in Democracy. Given the named movements and Marsalis’s stated intention of giving “symphonic identity to the form and feeling of the blues,” it should come as no surprise that the work comes across as more of a tone poem (or suite of tone poems) than symphony – something along the lines of Má vlast by Smetana. It is fascinating to hear the orchestra treated as something of the world’s biggest big band; you can hear the DSO players giving it their all. Trombone slides, clarinet glissandos, and an overall orchestral ability to impart a feeling of swing to the proceedings while never taking things over the top and making the music sound campy make for a rewarding listening experience. There is an earlier recording by the Philadelphia Orchestra; however, this new Pentatone release surpasses that one in terms of both performance and sound. Highly recommended! 

Paganini: 24 Caprices (Streaming review)

by Bill Heck

Paganini: 24 Capricesfor Solo Violin. Sarasate: Caprice basque, Milstein Caprice. Wieniawski: Etudes-Caprices for 2 violins, Op.18; Caprice andalous, Op. 122; Rêverie et caprice, H. 88. Saint-Saëns: Introduction et rondo capriccioso, Op. 28. María Dueñas, violin; Itmar Golan, piano (Sarasate); Boris Kuschnir, piano (Wieniawski); Deutsches Symphonie Orchester Berlin, Mihhail Gerts (Wieniawski, Saint-Saëns). DG 4865708 (2 CDs or download)

A few days ago, KWN and I were chatting about the kinds of music that we choose to review or, more precisely, about the recordings that we don’t want to review. Why not, you ask? Well, neither of us feels comfortable reviewing recordings of music that doesn’t particularly appeal to us and, like everyone else, we have our individual preferences. And, as we aren’t being paid for our efforts, we have neither the inclination nor the time to spend listening when doing so just feels like a chore. As we talked, one sub-genre that came up was solo violin pieces, and here we agreed: while there's no denying that some great music has been written for solo violin, neither of us tends to get into it.

So why am I recounting such a conversation? Because the retelling just shows how life's little ironies pop up everywhere. Within a day of this conversation, I came across this new recording of, yes, solo violin music that piqued my interest. Oh well – there are exceptions to every rule, and my rule about generally not being so interested in works for solo violin has already been violated at least once on this website, specifically in my review of the Yasÿe Six Sonatas played by Hillary Hahn. What’s one more intellectual inconsistency among friends…?

Now if we are going to listen to music for solo violin, we might as well start with one of the most famous and, if contemporaneous reports are to be believed, one of the most spectacular violin virtuosos of all time, Niccolò Paganini. And if one is going to listen to Paganini's compositions, we might as well begin with the 24 Caprices, perhaps Paganini’s most widely known (and imitated) series of works.

Reviews of some other recordings by Dueñas have characterized her playing as spirited, expressive, even aggressive (in, I think, a good sense), and those are the characteristics that one hears immediately. She certainly has the technique and control of her instrument to deal with these often very difficult pieces. But in addition, she makes them interesting, even moving and just a joy to hear. As played here, these works are not just a collection of virtuoso fireworks; she’s not afraid to vary tone and rhythm in the interests of letting the music speak. To illustrate what I mean, think of a difficulty that may arise when listening to such a long series of pieces: the mind may wander, attention may drift off in other directions. That wasn’t an issue here for me, as Dueñas brought out the musical underpinnings of each piece and kept me fully engaged.

Niccolò Paganini

 

Of course, there are plenty of other recordings of these works. For example, the one by Itzhak Perlman is classic, but I must say that the recording is showing its age, with rather dull sound. The recent one by James Ehnes features spectacular technique (he rockets through Number 1 in an incredible 1:48 as compared to Dueñas’s “leisurely” 2:33), but the playing, while never dull, is perhaps more straightforward than hers. In any case, I hear Dueñas’s traversal of the Caprices as a major success – so far, so good.

But it doesn’t stop there: as late-night TV commercials say, “But wait! There’s more!” Although the Paganini pieces are the headliner, and surely the reason that most readers would be interested in this release, the album includes a collection (recital?) of works featuring the violin. To keep this review at reasonable length, I’m going to do a quick summary, but readers should know that there’s interesting and enjoyable music to be found here.

To start with, Dueñas is joined in different works by piano, guitar, and full orchestra, so it’s not solo violin all the way. Many of these works have a Spanish flavor. Perhaps the most interesting is De cuerda y madura (Of Stone and Wood) which, depending on your taste, may strike you as a fascinating exploration of modern composition or a far-too-out-there collection of random notes; I lean toward the former. More immediately appealing are the Études-Caprices for 2 Violins by Wieniawski, and of course the two works by the perpetually underappreciated Saint-Saëns. All the playing is impeccable, as expected.

There are only two real, even if minor, disappointments here. First, in the CD version, the Paganini Caprices are spread across two disks (number 21 - 24 on the second disk). Second is the accompanying booklet, which features quotes from Dueñas in a sort of pop magazine interview format. A few interesting ideas surface, but it would’ve been so much nicer to have even a brief essay by the artist speaking directly to us in more depth. The sound of the recordings is very good if not, to my ears, great, although varying as the works were recorded in different locations by different engineering teams; certainly there's nothing to get in the way of enjoying some wonderful playing of appealing and even exciting music. In summary, a release well worth checking out – even if you thought that you weren’t fond of music for solo violin.

Kapustin: Piano Concertos Nos. 2 & 6 (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring 

Kapustin: Variations for piano solo and big band, Op.3; Toccata for piano solo and big band, Op.8; Concerto No. 2 for piano and orchestra, Op.14; Nocturne for piano and orchestra, Op. 16; Concert Rhapsody for piano and orchestra, Op.25; Concerto No. 6 for piano and big band, Op.74. Frank Dupree, piano; Dominik Beykirch, conductor. SWR Big Band; SWR Symphonieorchester (Berlin); Jakob Krupp, bass; Meinhard “Obi” Jenne, drumset. Capriccio C5528

A couple of years ago we reviewed a previous Capriccio release that featured the young German pianist Frank Dupree (b. 1991) playing music by the Ukrainian-born, Russian-trained composer and pianist Nikolai Kapustin (1937-2020), a review that you can find here. We noted in that review that Kapustin was an accomplished pianist who was classically trained in both performance and composition, but his real musical passion was jazz. As a result, he poured his energy into composing music that is classical in form but has much the same feel as improvised jazz – not an easy feat. That album, which featured his Concerto for Piano and Orchestra No. 5, impressed us with its integration of jazz style within a classical framework; as a result, we had high hopes for this latest release. This one, though, leans much more toward the jazz end of the spectrum, as you might guess from the compositions that include “big band” rather “orchestra” in their titles. These pieces really do sound like big band music with some extra-virtuosic piano charts – the Toccata in particular really shows off Dupree's nimble fingers!

Even the Concerto No. 2 for piano and orchestra, Op. 14 sounds more like a concerto for big band and orchestra with its scoring for drums and bass in addition to the orchestra, which is arranged to sound much like a brassy big band with some occasional string sweetening. The Nocturne that follows slows things down, backs off on the brass, and comes across something like a theme from a film score. The Concert Rhapsody ups the energy level; it too sounds as though it could be the theme music for a film or television series. The album closes with another composition for piano and big band, Concerto No. 6. This piece is more musically complex than the others on the program (note its higher catalog number – Op. 74 was completed in 1993, long after Op. 25 in 1976). Yes, it still has that big band sound about it, but it is more rhythmically complex and more mature sounding overall than the other works for piano and big band on this release. 

 Dupree has been an enthusiastic advocate of Kapustin’s music, having released a number of recordings of it. His facility – both technical and musical – is beyond reproach, and the engineering is top-notch. The arrangements, however, for both the big band and the orchestra, come across as rather pedestrian, making it hard to give this newest release more than a room temperature recommendation. For those who have not heard Kapustin before, the album we reviewed previously (see link above) would probably be a better starting point. 

Sofia Gubaidulina, R.I.P.

We at Classical Candor join the worldwide classical music community in mourning the recent (March 13) death of composer Sofia Gubaidulina. Gubaidulina was born in 1931 in what is now the Republic of Tatarstan (formerly under Russian control) to a Tatar father and a Russian mother. In 1992, she moved to Hamburg, Germany, where she resided for the remainder of her life. She described herself as a deeply spiritual person and has said of her compositional process, “whenever I’m composing, I pray, no, I actually speak to God.’ 

We have reviewed several of her compositions over the years and can attest to their spiritual nature. Of the three releases on which these compositions are contained, there are two that I have no hesitation in recommending to those unfamiliar with her catalog, but for different reasons. For those who prefer drama, intensity, and giving their stereo a serious workout, I would recommend a DG release featuring violinist Vadim Rapin, conductor Andris Nelsons, and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra that contains three compositions: Dialog: Ich und Du, The Wrath of God;  and The Light of the End (see review here). For those who might prefer music of a quitter, more reflective nature, there is an EMI release featuring legendary Russian cellist titled The Canticle of the Sun (see review here). The third release is unusual in that it includes two unlike compositions, the first a triple concerto for the unusual combination of violin, cello, and bayan; the second a sonata for cello and bayan (see review here). It’s an interesting album, but the other two are better introductions to Gubaidulina’s music. 

 

Her music was intense, powerful, often challenging. Although it was seldom what most listeners would think of as easy listening, for the listener willing to give it a thoughtful hearing, it could become result in rewarding listening. She was a unique musical voice, and she will ne missed.

Ravel: The Complete Solo Piano Works (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Seong-Jin Cho, piano. Deutache Grammophon 486 6814

 

Before sitting down at my computer to write this review, I did a quick search for an old review I had done of a previous release of the complete solo piano music of Ravel so that I could provide a link to that review. To my surprise, however, I found that I never actually have posted a review of the complete Ravel piano solo works. Oh well, there’s a first time for everything, right?  

As seems to be the norm with DG these days, portraits of the artist – in this case, the young Korean pianist Seong-Jin Cho (b. 1994) – appear throughout the trifold digipack, his picture appearing twice on the inside as well as adorning both the front and back covers. The liner note booklet cover is duplicate of the front cover, and the gray and pink background colors are carried over throughout the booklet. The track listings are a bit of a strain to read because of minimal color contrast for the text. When it comes to the notes themselves, the good news is that the text is now black; the bad news is that the font is tiny – as in teeny-tiny. Even eyes much younger than mine may find the text difficult to discern.

 

Seong-Jin Cho is one of the rising young generation of talented pianists who are rapidly making a name for themselves on the international stage. He won the 2015 International Chopin Piano Competition at the age of 21, a remarkable achievement. His playing throughout these two CDs is impeccable: clean, precise, nimble. This approach works especially well in pieces such as Menuet Antique, where the clarity of his fingering (and of the engineering) makes the music come to life. Overall, the clarity of his playing makes for a satisfying listening experience, although that same precision and clarity can also at times lead to a feeling of sterility. Overall, then, a worthy release, one that will go on my shelf along with Abbey Simon (Vox) and Vlado Perlemuter (Nimbus), neither of which can match the sound quality of this new DG release. With 2025 marking the 150^th anniversary of Ravel’s birth, there are going to be a multitude of Ravel releases this year; if the quality of this one is any indication, it’s going to be a rewarding celebration.  

Beethoven Blues (Batiste Piano Series, Vol. 1) (CD Review)

 by Karl Nehring

Für Elise – Batiste; Symphony No. 5 Stomp; Moonlight Sonata Blues; Dusklight Movement; 7^th Symphony Elegy; American Symphony Theme; Ode to Joyful; 5^th Symphony in Congo Square; Waldstein Wobble; Life of Ludwig; Für Elise – Reverie. Jon Batiste, piano. Verve/Interscope 602475263807

 

Pianist and composer Jon Batiste ((b. 1986) is likely an unfamiliar figure to many fans of classical music; however, many others may well remember his 2015-2022 stint as bandleader on the popular television program, The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. (American) football fans might recall that it was Batiste who performed the national anthem at Super Bowl LIX. Born into a musically talented Louisiana family, Batiste recounts in his liner notes that “I spent a good amount of my youth competing in local classical music competitions and gigging in night haunts in the heart of New Orleans. For years now since childhood I have made a practice of going to the piano and reimagining classical music as if it were my own. As a precocious youth I’d alternate between reimagining music and composing my own things. I was often drawn to ben in conversation with Beethoven’s music. Over the years, many have asked if I’d consider recording a pure piano album. Beethoven Blues is the first volume of solo piano recordings to be released over the coming years.”

 

Elsewhere in the booklet we find this interesting statement: “All songs written by Ludwig van Beethoven and interpolated by Jon Batiste except ‘American Symphony Theme’, ‘Dusklight Movement’, and ‘Life of Ludwig’ written by Jon Batiste and published by Kobalt Publishing.” The word “interpolated” is unexpected; however, the expected “interpreted” is not quite correct. Batiste says of his creative process “starts with Beethoven’s original compositions and in real time I am creating something completely original within and inspired by them. I didn’t think about what I would play before sitting at the piano. Within the same performance, I aim to render a stellar modern interpretation of Beethoven’s original works while simultaneously extending the composition, shaping into an entirely new composition that somehow maintains the distinctive elements of the original.” In other words, Batiste sits down at the piano and brings to Beethoven some of his own musical cultural heritage – blues, wobble, stomp, swing, shout – and interpolates into what Beethoven has handed down.

At first hearing, the music can sound as though Batiste is simply adding a layer of stylistic gloss to Beethoven – some trills and frills, some flourishes meant to prettify and trivialize Beethoven’s music. But upon further, more reflective listening, the depth of what Batiste is doing begins to reveal itself, especially in the final track Für Elise – Reverie, a 15-minute deep dive into that familiar melody in which Batiste takes us on a musical and emotional journey as we listen to the freely flowing musical  sounds that are such an evocative blend of Beethoven, Batiste, and our own musical imaginations. Once we have had our minds attuned to Batiste’s approach by this final piece on the album, we can the go back and enjoy the whole of Beethoven Blues for what it is: an informed, informative, and thoroughly entertaining take on Beethoven from a talented musician with a unique and refreshing perspective.

John Field: Complete Nocturnes

 by Bill Heck 

Field: Nocturnes. Alice Sara Ott, piano. Deutsche Grammophon 4866239

Utter the word “nocturne“ to a lover of classical music and you are pretty much guaranteed that the name “Chopin” will come back. Indeed, for many of us, nocturnes for solo piano begin and end with Chopin. But it is more accurate to say that, whenever they “end”, nocturnes begin earlier, arguably with John Field.

Field lived from 1782 to 1837, straddling the transition from the Classical to early Romantic periods. Although Irish by birth (one of a relative handful of composers from the Emerald Isle), he spent most of his life elsewhere, first in England and later in Russia. Although he established a reputation as a major virtuoso in his early years, by the time of his death he was perceived as being somewhat out of date. Still, his works, especially those for solo piano and particularly the nocturnes, influenced composers like Schumann, Chopin of course, and even Liszt.

John Field

So what, pray tell, is a nocturne? The name translates roughly as “night piece”, which suggests quiet, gentle sounds; musically nocturnes are expected to be works for solo piano in which the left hand plays (mostly) arpeggiated chords while the right plays a melody. The earliest of Field’s nocturnes fit that pattern, but, as it is common with composers of merit, Field’s compositional techniques evolved so that his latter nocturnes go beyond this simple definition. It will surprise no one to hear that by the time Chopin came along, the definition was stretched to the breaking point, but one can still hear the echoes of those Fieldian beginnings.

Regardless of definitions and comparisons, Field’s nocturnes are more than worth seeking out. No, you won’t confuse Field’s works with those of the true master of the form, Chopin, but they are eminently listenable and enjoyable. While performances have not exactly flooded the market, there have been several recordings of the complete list of 18 that deserve mention, including those of John O’Connor from the 1990s and Tyler Hay from last year (2024). Now we have this very nice set from Alice Sara Ott, one that is right up there with the best.

Alice Sara Ott

Ott, born in Germany in 1988, proved a prodigy, doing well in youth piano competition at age 5 and winning a major German one at 7. An active recording and concert performance career has followed, with this album being, so far as I can tell, her tenth. She announced in 2019 that she had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, but thankfully that hardly seems to have affected her career; the list of upcoming engagements on her website makes me feel exhausted just reading it.

I find the playing here a “just right“ blend of straightforwardness and expressivity, bringing out the beauty and ingenuity of the works without engaging in distracting mannerisms or drawing attention to the performer rather than the music itself. It’s certainly not that Ott‘s playing is in any way mechanical, nor is there any lack of technical virtuosity (just listen to the clarity in the zippy, tinkling runs in number 12). But that virtuosity always seems to be in service of the music, sounding quite natural.

It certainly helps Ott’s cause that the DG recording is first-rate. The sound is close, but not too close, with just a bit of room sound, and is fully coherent, meaning it sounds like a real piano in a real place. It’s easy to immerse oneself in sound like this.

When I first ran across this album on my streaming service and heard these charming works, I blushed in mild shame to think that I was so unacquainted with Field’s oeuvre. But I was relieved to find in Ott’s personal but informative liner notes that she, too, knew next to nothing of Field’s nocturnes until she ran across them more or less by chance while searching for uplifting music during the worst of the Covid pandemic. First Ott, then me – and I suggest, dear reader, that you also may wish to become acquainted with these compositions in such excellent performances as found here.