Keith Jarrett: A Tribute

by Karl Nehring

Earlier this month, American pianist and composer Keith Jarrett celebrated his 80^th birthday. Although best known as a jazz pianist, his body of work extends far beyond jazz – and beyond the piano. We have reviewed a few of his recordings in the past; you can find those reviews here (Budapest Concert), here, (Bourdeaux Concert), and here (C.P.E. Bach Sonatas). Like many people, my first encounter with his playing was from listening to Forest Flower, on which Jarrett played piano as a member of the Charles Lloyd Quartet in a live set at the 1966 Monterey Jazz Festival that was released on Atlantic Records in 1967. In 1971, Jarrett, who was then touring with Miles Davis, had a fateful meeting with producer Manfred Eicher that resulted in Jarrett recording a solo piano album, Facing You, which was released in 1972 on Eicher’s ECM label. In 1973, had released Solo Concerts: Bremen/Lausanne, the first of what would become a series of concert recordings during which Jarrett played improvised music. Popular music critic Rick Beato has posted a YouTube video (which you can see here) describing a segment of this recording as “two of the most beautiful minutes in music.” 

While in the Army in 1974, I picked up both of his “American” quartet albums – Fort Yawuh and Treasure Island – on the Impulse! label, the latter of which featured Jarrett picking up the soprano saxophone on one of the cuts. As a side note, his “American” quartet included the late Dewey Redman, father of Joshua Redman (whose recent performance we mentioned here), on tenor saxophone, along with Charlie Haden on bass and Paul Motian on drums). 1974 also saw the release of the album Belonging on the ECM label, this by Jarrett’s “European” quartet, with Jan Garbarek on tenor saxophone, Palle Danielsson on bass, and Jon Christensen on drums. It’s a beautiful recording, highlighting Jarrett’s skill as a composer as well as a pianist. Then in 1975, ECM released what would become the best-selling piano recording in history, Jarrett’s The Köln Concert. It’s a spellbinding album that still sounds fresh and new 50 years after its initial release.

In 1976, Jarrett received a commission from the Deutsche Grammophon to compose a piece for the Boston Symphony Orchestra. It was to be conducted by Seiji Ozawa and feature Jarrett on piano. Jarrett completed his 200-page, 40-minute score for The Celestial Hawk in 1978. The BSO had been expecting a jazzy piece with Jarrett doing a lot of improvising, apparently thinking that would guarantee box-office success; when they saw it was a serious classical composition, they lost interest, and the project was dropped. Instead, Eicher decided to record the work for his ECM label, with Jarrett on piano accompanied by the Syracuse Symphony Orchestra conducted by Christopher Keene. It was released in 1980.

 

In 1984, Eicher decided to expand ECM into the classical realm and brought a new sound into the musical world with the release of Arvo Pärt’s Tabula rasa, the first album on the label’s New Series imprint. This recording also marked the intersection of some of the most longstanding, significant musical collaborators in the label’s history: Arvo Pärt, Gidon Kremer, and Keith Jarrett. I was quite familiar with Jarrett, somewhat familiar with Kremer, but my familiarity with Pärt extended only as far as having heard his name but not his music when, late at night in 1984 while sitting in my car having just finished a shift as a security guard while I was still in grad school, over the radio came music that immediately held me under its spell. The late-night host on WOSU-FM announced that he was playing some tracks from a new album of music by the Estonian composer Arvo Pärt, and that we had just heard his composition Fratres, performed by violinist Gidon Kremer and pianist Keith Jarrett. Keith Jarrett?! Although the music sold itself, Jarrett’s endorsement made me even more eager to run out and purchase the CD just as soon as I could find it; I have been an enthusiastic Arvo Pärt fan ever since.

Jarrett went on to release many, many recordings over the ensuing decades, both as a soloist and as part of an ensemble. Many of these were jazz, of course, but there were also many classical efforts, in music of Bach Handel, Mozart, Shostakovich, Bartók, Barber, Harrison, and Hovhaness. (If I may be permitted another personal aside, it was Jarrett who introduced me to the 24 Preludes and Fugues for Piano by Shostakovich – I had many recordings of DSCH’s symphonies and was somewhat familiar with his concertos and chamber music but had no idea this marvelous piano music even existed until ECM released Jarrett’s recording in 1992. I now own several versions and continue to delight in this music that Jarrett first revealed to me.) 

 

In 1994, Jarrett’s Bridge of Light album appeared on the ECM New Series label, containing four classical compositions by Jarrett: Elegy for Violin and String Orchestra, Adagio for Oboe and String Orchestra, Sonata for Violin and Piano, and Bridge of Light for Viola and Orchestra. Jarrett said of these works, “Actually, all of these pieces are born of a desire to praise and contemplate rather than a desire to "make" or "show" or "demonstrate" something unique. They are, in a certain way, prayers that beauty may remain perceptible despite fashions, intellect, analysis, progress, technology, distractions, "burning issues" of the day, the un-hipness of belief or faith, concert programming, and the unnatural "scene" of "art", the market, lifestyles, etc., etc., etc. I am not attempting to be "clever" in these pieces (or in these notes), I am not attempting to be a composer. I am trying to reveal a state I think is missing in today's world (except, perhaps, in private): a certain state of surrender: surrender to an ongoing harmony in the universe that exists with or without us. Let us let it in.” It is a charming album, pastoral and serene. If you were to listen to it today without being told who the composer is, your guess might well be a British composer such as, say. Butterworth. 

Tragically enough, in 2018 Jarrett suffered the first of several strokes that robbed him of the use of his left hand, thus leaving him unable to continue his career at the piano. However, ECM has since released several albums of past concert performances; in fact, there is a release of a recording he made in Vienna that we will be reviewing in a forthcoming post. For more insight into this fascinating musician, whose music blurred the boundaries between classical and jazz, between composed and improvised, there is a an in-depth interview that the notoriously press-shy Jarrett granted to Rick Beato; that fascinating video can be seen here.

Two Box Sets and Two Sets in a Box (CD & Live Concert Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

Shostakovich: Symphonies-Concertos-Lady Macbeth. (CDs1-12) Symphonies 1-15; (CD 13) Incidental Music and Chamber Symphony; (CD 14) Piano Concertos Nos. 1 & 2; (CD 15) Violin Concertos Nos. 1 & 2; (CD 16) Cello Concertos Nos. 1 & 2; (CDs 17-19) Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District. Yuja Wang, piano; Baiba Skride, violin; Yo-Yo Ma, cello; Kristīne Opolais, soprano; Boston Symphony Orchestra; Andris Nelsons, conductor. Deutsche Grammophon 486 6849 

 

Back in 2015 the Boston Symphony Orchestra and its then newly appointed Music Director Andris Nelsons teamed up with Deutsche Grammophon and embarked on a project to record all 15 Shostakovich symphonies, starting with No. 10, which was reviewed soon after it release by our own John Puccio (you can find that review here). As the project continued, we reviewed a couple of the subsequent releases, including Nos. 4 & 11 in 2019 (review located here) and Nos. 1, 14. & 15 in 2021 (found here). Fast forward to 2025, which coincides with the 50^th anniversary oh Shostakovich’s death, and DG has decided to gather all 15 symphony recordings into a box set – but wait, there’s more. In addition to the symphonies, we get the two piano concertos, two violin concerto, two cello concertos, a concert version of his opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District, and more. Nineteen discs in all, and no, we have not carefully auditioned them all. Too many discs, too little time. 

From our previous reviews, you will see that we were quite favorably impressed by their versions of Symphonies 10, 4, and 11, but less so by Nos. 1, 14, and 15. From this new set, our time spent listening to Wang’s performances of the piano concertos proved quite delightful (those performances have been released in a separate CD that Ryan Ross will be reviewing soon). We also gave a quick listen to Skride’s performances of the violin concertos and found them to be tenderly expressive but on the slow side – which may have added to the feeling of emotional resonance. Surely many listeners will already own favorite versions of several of these DSCH compositions; however, the outstanding playing of the BSO, the excellent sound quality, and the convenience of having all these works gathered into one collection combine to make this set an attractive collection for serious Shostakovich fans.

 

Lorin Maazel Conducts the Cleveland Orchestra: The Complete CBS Masterworks. (CD 1) Berlioz: Le carnaval romain, H 95: Overture; Brahms: Academic Festival Overture, Op. 80; Barber: The School For Scandal, Op. 5: Overture; Brahms: Symphony No. 1 in C Minor, Op. 68; (CD 2) R. Strauss: Ein Heldenleben, Op. 40; (CD 3) Beethoven: Symphony No. 1 in C Major, Op. 21; Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 36; (CD 4) Beethoven:Symphony No. 3 in E-Flat Major, Op. 55 "Eroica"; (CD 5) Beethoven: Symphony No. 4 in B-Flat Major, Op. 60; Symphony No. 8 in F Major, Op. 93; (CD 6) Beethoven: Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67; Egmont Overture, Op. 84; Leonore Overture No. 3, Op. 72; (CD 7) Beethoven: Symphony No. 6 in F Major, Op. 68 "Pastoral"; (CD 8) Beethoven: Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92; Fidelio Overture, Op. 72; (CD 9) Beethoven: Symphony No. 9 in D Minor, Op. 125 "Choral"; (CD 10) Strauss: Don Juan, Op. 20; Till Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks, Op. 28; Death and Transfiguration; (CD 11) Berlioz: Symphonie Fantastique, Op. 14; (CD 12) Serge Lama: Les P'tites Femmes de Pigalle; Chez Moi; Je t'aime à la folie; Je suis malade; L'esclave; La Chanteuse a vingt ans; La Salle de Bains; Ah!; L'enfant au piano; Femmes, Femmes, Femmes; L'enfant d'un autre; An old-fashioned Waltz; (CD 13) Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 5 in E Minor, Op. 64; (CD 14) Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 6 in B Minor, Op. 74 "Pathétique"; (CD 15) Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 4 in F Minor, Op. 36. Cleveland Orchestra; Lorin Maazel, conductor. Sony Classical 19802819982

 

When music lovers talk of remarkable musical prodigies or notable conductors of the 20^th century, how likely is Lorin Maazel (1930-2014) likely to be put forward as a candidate for consideration? Based on my experience at least, not very often, if at all. But Maazel’s story is a remarkable one: the man was a marvel. Maazel was born in Paris, but in 1932 his family moved to Los Angeles, where soon after they enrolled the youngster first in violin lessons and while still a young child, conducting lessons with the associate conductor of the Los Angeles Philharmonic. He was not yet 10 when he mounted the Pittsburgh Symphony’s podium and only 11 when he was invited by none other than Toscanini himself to conduct the NBC Symphony nationally broadcast concert.  By the time he reached 15, he was determined to get a university education and withdrew from conducting engagements to study languages and philosophy at the University of Pittsburgh – meanwhile also giving violin recitals and playing in the Pittsburgh SO and the Fine Arts Quartet. After graduation, a Fulbright Scholarship took him to Rome, and in 1953 he made his European debut, standing in for an indisposed conductor in Catania. By 1960 he had conducted some 300 concerts with more than 20 European orchestras and, aged 30, became the youngest conductor, the first American, and the first Jew since the fall of the Third Reich to appear at the Bayreuth Festival.

When music lovers talk of the Cleveland Orchestra, the conductor’s name that immediately pops up is that of George Szell (1897-1970), who led the orchestra from 1946 until his death in 1970. His name is still nearly synonymous with the orchestra; for example, Christoph von Dohnányi, who succeeded Maazel as Music Director in Cleveland, once quipped, “we give a great concert, and George Szell gets a great review.” But it was Maazel who faced the unenviable task of succeeding becoming Szell’s immediate successor, taking over as Music Director in 1972. Interestingly, although Maazel is sometimes thought of today as a bit stiff and literal in style, when he took over in Cleveland, there was grousing that his style was “too emotional” when compared to that of his legendary predecessor. For Maazel and/or Clevland Orchestra fans, this åcompetitive Beethoven symphony cycle and some fine Strauss. It also contains one of the stranger things I have heard in quite some time, Maazel’s own “symphonic realizations” of åviolin on a French TV show, Maazel hatched the idea of “lending Lama’s poetry a new, larger dimension.” Let’s just say it was not one of Maazel’s finest moments.

 

The booklet included in the box contains some background information on Maazel, some photographs, and reproductions of the original LP covers. For devoted Maazel fans, this box may well be an attractive package. 

 

Joel Ross’s Good Vibes (Joel Ross, vibraphone; Jeremy Corren, piano; Kanoa Mendenhall, bass; Maria Grand, tenor saxophone; Josh Johnson, alto saxophone; ​Jeremy Dutton, drums). Live set at the Performance Space in the Wexner Center for the Performing Arts at The Ohio State University, Columbus, OH. March 6, 2025.

 

The Performance Space at the Wexner Center at OSU offers a comfortable setting in which to enjoy a musical performance. In early March, the stage was occupied by the Chicago-born vibraphonist Joel Ross (b. 1995), who now operates out of Brooklyn, and his band, Good Vibes. Unlike most åjazz vibes players, who use four mallets, two in each hand, Ross prefers to play with only one in each hand, because he says he does not want to dictate harmony. This manner of playing also lends clarity to his sound, putting the emphasis on melody and rhythm. This was evident as he began the set on his vibraphone, hammering out a solo. Ross had offered no spoken no introduction – neither of the band members, nor of the music; instead, the band walked on stage and Ross just started tapping on his vibes, playing for several minutes, establishing a pulse and a melody that was picked up by the rest of the group as they began to join in. 

 

What followed was an hour-long continuous stream of music. The music seemed to slowly mutate as it went along, with subtle shifts in tempo, melody, rhythm, and harmony. Phrases would appear, get passed around among the group, disappear, sometimes to reappear 10 or 15 minutes later in a subtly different form and tempo. From time to time there were solos; special mention must be made of the contributions of Maria Grand on tenor saxophone, who dazzled the crowd with a couple of incredible solos, especially when she explored the extreme treble range of which the instrument is capable. Overall, though, the most impressive thing about the show was seeing how these musicians could interact with each other over the span of an hour, delighting in the subtleties of musical creation and interaction. Although it features more structured tunes in a studio setting, Ross’s most recent album, nublues (Blue Note), is well worth a listen.

 

Joshua Redman Group (Joshua Redman, tenor saxophone; Gabrielle Cavassa, vocals; Paul Cornish, piano; Philip Norris, bass; Nazir Ebo, drums). Live set at the Performance Space in the Wexner Center for the Performing Arts at The Ohio State University, Columbus, OH. April 3, 2025.

 

In contrast to Joel Ross, who had barely interacted with the audience, saxophonist Joshua Redman (b. 1969) greeted the audience with enthusiasm and established an immediate rapport as he recalled previous shows in Columbus. Also in contrast to the Ross concert, which had been one continuous stream of music, Redman’s show was a set of tunes, many of them featuring vocals by the remarkable Gabrielle Cavassa, who offered powerful interpretations of such familiar standards such as By the Time I Get to Phoenix, I Left My Heart in San Francisco, and Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?. Of course, there were also plenty of instrumental highlights along the way, with not only some blazing saxophone solos by Redman, of course, but also an energetic bass solo by Philip Norris that earned a rousing round of applause from the audience.

 

The group was on a tour showcasing their Blue Note album, Where Are We, which includes the tunes mentioned above. To close their live set, Cavassa sang another song from the album, Stars Fell on Alabama, after which Redman played an extended, impassioned solo on his saxophone that was simply heart-rending before the whole band joined in on John Coltrane's Alabama, capping off a night to remember. Redman has a new album coming out in June, Words Fall Short (Blue Note), that will include these musicians plus some guests, such as the exciting saxophonist Melissa Aldana.

Ludwig van Beethoven: The Piano Concertos (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

(CD 1) Piano Concerto No. 2 in B-flat major, op. 19; No. 1 in C major, op. 15; (CD 2) No. 3 in c minor, op. 37; No. 4 in G major, op. 58; (CD 3) No. 5 in E-flat major, op. 73. Alexander Lonquich, piano; Münchener Kammerorchester. ECM New Series 2753-55 

I have occasionally noted in previous reviews how exciting and rewarding it is to listen to enjoyable music by a composer completely unknown to me. To discover such “hidden treasure” and then be able to pass along a recommendation to others brings me great joy. In the case of this release, neither the composer nor the music is unknown to me – nor to the overwhelming majority of those music fans reading this – so what about this release is completely unknown? It’s the performer, the German pianist and conductor Alexander Lonquich (b. 1960), who for these performances conducts the Munich Chamber Orchestra from the keyboard. For the enclosed booklet, he also contributes a thoughtful essay that offers insights about each of the concertos, noting, for example some of the Mozartean influences on the first three, and how Beethoven, dissatisfied with his first effort at composing a concerto for piano, had it published second -- which is why Lonquich has chosen to preserve true chronological order in this set by placing No. 2 before No. 1.

 

The performances in this box set are from 2022. Giving backgound, however, Lonquich writes, "for years, I have repeatedly had the pleasure of realizing Beethoven projects with the Munich Chamber Orchestra until finally the time came to perform the entire cycle of Beethoven’s completed piano concertos on a single evening in autumn 2019. The resulting, very special experience, for performers and listeners alike, is reflected in these recordings. The usually common placement of the individual works in the context of a symphony concert all too often runs the risk of reinforcing what is already traditional, while this chronological order draws attention to stylistic leaps in in the compositions and allows the listener to experience Beethoven’s development as the author of these outward-looking creations that illustrate his pianistic virtuosity between 1790 and 1809… It was and is our incentive, also in the present recordings, to collectively trace Beethoven’s long developmental process step by step and to allow such an experience to merge into a convincing overall dramaturgy. The joy of being able to expose ourselves again and again to the presence and presentness of this music is immeasurable.”

It's an interesting set that offers a unique perspective on Beethoven’s art. The smaller forces involved, combined with the rather distant recording perspective, draw the listener into the softer passages rather than place an emphasis on the louder passages. The overall effect is that of a more personal, intimate listening experience. This is not just another routine run-through of these familiar works, and for that reason, it is well worth an audition.

Ruth Gipps: Orchestral Works, Volume 4 (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

Violin Concerto, Op. 24; Leviathan, Op. 59; Symphony No. 5, Op. 64. Charlie Lovell-Jones, violinist; Bill Anderson, contrabassoonist; Rumon Gamba, conductor; BBC Philharmonic. Chandos 20319

Perhaps the most challenging aspect of reviewing classical music is having to deal honestly with composers and compositions that one wants to extol but can’t fully. The problem is compounded when performers are sympathetic and deliver the works in question about as well as can be expected. I want to root for Ruth Gipps and her advocates here, much as I have wanted to root for Mieczyslaw Weinberg and Company in my past reviews. I feel tempted to make exaggerated claims for these composers out of sheer admiration for their life stories, causes, and even the considerable talent that each exercised. But if the peculiar failures of recent musicology and music criticism (where they can be separated anymore) are any indication, merely wishing for something does not make it so. I wish Ruth Gipps were a great composer rather than merely a very good one capable of the occasional outstanding effort, but she wasn’t. And as I suggested in my review of Volume 3 of her orchestral works, this reality weighs when comparing her miniatures and longer works. Volume 4 here contains two of the latter plus a solid miniature: not an auspicious beginning for my initial desire to give this recording a rave review.

Bill Anderson

We’ll start with the miniature. Leviathan is scored for the interesting combination of contrabassoon (or double-bassoon) and chamber orchestra. Frankly, I’ve always harbored a special affection for this solo instrument, and my curiosity is stirred whenever it receives more than background consideration. Happily, Leviathan is now my personal favorite work featuring it (whatever that distinction is worth!). Here is a study in atmospheric scene setting, where I imagine an open ocean scene under a saturnine sky with a large sea serpent or cetacean rolling at the water’s surface. Aided by that imagery the music gives me chills! At 5 minutes long it should be programmed and taken up by your friendly local contrabassoonist everywhere.

But then we come to the bigger works, and I just wish I were less frustrated by them. The main thing is that Gipps’s themes are not arresting and differentiated enough for extended treatment. Materials that more distinguished composers might use briefly for transitional purposes here get positioned in a front-and-center way. Her tendency of spinning larger forms from these materials is reminiscent of Vaughan Williams, but without either his sense of drama or melodic ability. These problems are more serious in the Symphony, where there is no soloist to provide relief activity. But even in the Violin Concerto there is too much sameness that lasts for too long. The trimmer, more inviting Horn Concerto of later years avoids this issue. (I do think solo winds are friendlier to Gipps’s sound palette.) However, when it came to symphonies she was never entirely able to overcome her limitations. And so, while her Fifth is beautifully constructed and (again) atmospheric, it just doesn’t pack the punch that a work pushing 40 minutes ought to do. Not even a “Missa brevis for Orchestra” finale provides enough interest to keep me from wishing it had all ended beforehand.

I’ll say it: Ruth Gipps tended to be at her best when she attempted less. And there’s no shame in this! Even a great composer like Chopin never produced a symphony or an opera. Schumann is still most enthusiastically praised for his songs and piano miniature cycles. It’s not that any of these individuals couldn’t do big orchestral things; it’s that what they had to say was so frequently said advantageously in the small and medium genres. Gipps won’t bear comparison to Chopin or Schumann, nor even to one of the great British symphonists, but she doesn’t have to for her specific gifts to shine.

Moderne: Art Choral Vol. 6 (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Ola Gjeilo (b. 1978): Unicornis Captivatur; Edward Elgar (1857-1934): Lux AEterna (excerpt from Nimrod from Enigma Variations, arrangement by John Cameron); Ambroz Čopi (b. 1973): II. Regina caeli (excerpt from Quatuor Antiphonae Marianae Selectae); Morten Lauridsen (b. 1943): O magnum mysterium; Čopi: IV. Ave, Regina caelorum (excerpt from Quatuor Antiphonae Marianae Selectae); Samuel Barber (1910-1981): Agnus Dei (Adagio for Strings, Op. 11, transcription for mixed choir); Jake Runestad (b.1986): Nyon Nyon; Uģis Prauliņš (b. 1957): Missa Regensis: I. Kyrie eleison; Andrew Balfour (b. 1967): Praeter rerum seriem; Aaron Copland (1900-1990): Help Us, O Lord (excerpt from Four Motets) Pablo Casals(1876-1973): O vos omnes (Antífona del Nocturno 3º de Sábado Santo). Ensemble ArtChoral (Janelle Lucyk, Marie Magistry, Magali Simard-Galdès, sopranos; Ghislaine Deschambault, Claudine Ledoux, Rachèle Tremblay, altos; Kerry Bursey, Bernard Cayouette, Arthur Tanguay-Labrosse, tenors; Alasdair Campbell, William Kraushaar, Guillaume St-Cyr, basses); Matthias Maute, director. ATMA Classique ACD2 2425 

We have not reviewed a choral release in Classical Candor so far this year (2025); the last time we gave a listen to a CD spotlighting the performance of a choir was back in November, 2024, in a review of new music by the composers Ēriks Ešenvalds and Rachel Laurin (a review that you can find here). While that release featured large works by two composers, this new ATMA release instead focuses on music from a specific musical era: in this case, the Modern Era. As you can discern from the album’s title, this is Volume 6 in a series that includes Vol. 1, Renaissance; Vol. 2, Baroque I; Vol. 3, Baroque II; Vol. 4, Classsique; Vol. 5, Romantique; and Vol. 7, Noël.

As the liner notes observe about the current state of composition for chorus, “the choral repertoire continued to expand during the 20^th and 21^st centuries thanks especially to contributions from North American and Scandinavian composers. Some, such as Morten Lauridsen and Ola Gjeilo, have specialized in contemporary choral composition – in fact, they have written so much and so well that their works have become benchmarks of such music – while others have remained attached to the traditional and sacred character of choral music.”

Readers conversant with choral music may well be familiar with Lauridsen’s O magnum mysterium, which has been widely recorded, including a luminous rendition led by Robert Shaw and captured in audiophile-quality sound in a Telarc release reviewed by John Puccio back in 2018 (review here). Regarding Gjeilo, we have reviewed a couple of his previous releases: Dawn, for solo piano (review here) , which we found disappointing, and Dreamweaver, which included music for chorus with piano and orchestra (review here), a better effort – although our favorite remains his Chandos release titled Northern Lights. His Unicornis Captivatur sounds a bit more traditional than some of his work but makes for a fine opening to the program. The remainder is a mix of the familiar and the unfamiliar, with old standbys such as the choral arrangements of the Barber Adagio and the Elgar Nimrod mixed in with less familiar works by composers whose names might be familiar (such as Copland and Casals) or perhaps lass familiar (such as Čopi or Prauliņš).

One piece that really jumps out, though, is by a composer whose name, although maybe not quite a household name, should not be completely unfamiliar to our readers, for we have reviewed one his releases before (review here), although to be fair, it was a few years ago… Anyway, Nyon Nyon has a unique sound that quickly captures your attention: What are they singing?! From the helpful liner notes, which include texts for all the compositions as well as some information about them, we find the following lyrics:

Nyon nyon

See mahkah who when

Yah hah doo be dah

Ooit tihkih ahh sah

Dnn tss

Runestad explains that Nyon Nyon “explores the wide range of sonic effects that the human voice can produce. The work plunges the listener into an acoustically diverse world populated by original phonemes, each with its own vowel color and way of being produced. By incorporating effects similar to those usually produced by a wah-wah pedal on an electric guitar – itself inspired by nasal sonorities – and other effects mimicking synthesizers, drums, or a bass guitar, the piece turns the choir into a ‘full-fledged vocal orchestra’.” Now, that description – not to mention those lyrics – may strike some readers as off-putting, but trust me, it’s a lively, entertaining piece that is a wonder and a delight.  In presenting a mix of the familiar and unfamiliar, the soothing and stimulating, this collection provides an entertaining overview of modern choral music that is well performed, well recorded, and enthusiastically recommended.

Weinberg String Quartets Nos. 3, 9, and 14 (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

String Quartet No. 3 in D Minor, Op. 14; Improvisation and Romance for String Quartet; String Quartet No. 9 in F-Sharp Minor, Op. 80; String Quartet No. 14, Op. 122. Arcadia Quartet. Chandos CHAN 20328

 

I have long considered Mieczyslaw Weinberg to be a hit-and-miss composer. But I must say: the more of his music I get to know, the more the misses outpace the hits. Now, not everything I would call a “miss” is necessarily bad; some stuff is even mildly engaging while I listen to it. But little attains much memorability. Most releases in this Chandos string quartet series tell the tale in microcosm: an arresting movement here and there (or an entire work if you’re lucky) alongside vast stretches of miss. The Fifth Volume comes in a bit below this average: lots of okay (or worse) surrounding small islands of special.

We’ll start with what I consider to be the most compelling item: the Improvisation and Romance for String Quartet. David Fanning’s liner notes explain that this work is in a “comprehensible,” “anti-formalist” style favored by Soviet authorities during the Stalin era. I’ll be honest: I abhor the Soviet government’s censorship methods, but I like it when Weinberg composed in this style, to which his Third Symphony (an absolutely wonderful piece) also belongs. When his tendency toward doodling took a back seat to directness, he was at his best. And so it goes in this pair of miniatures. The Improvisation is the less memorable of the two but still pleasant and easy to follow. However, the Romance is the gem of the whole disc – sporting a beautifully wistful melody that shows what Weinberg could do when he felt like it.

 

Sometimes Weinberg successfully balanced being clever with being direct, as he did in the Fourth and Sixth Quartets. The Third Quartet of 1944 is very much in this vein, if somewhat less inspired. It begins with one of his signature “driving-rhythm” movements, this being one with clear thematic ideas and a satisfying formal trajectory. The second movement is about the same length, similarly well crafted, and full of feeling. The trouble here is that for all the sincerity of expression, there is not a truly memorable moment to take with you after the music stops playing. The third movement almost solves this problem with its mysterious opening theme, but the rest never lives up to that initial promise. And the theme itself kind of fizzles by the end. It’s all respectable, but you’re left wanting more.

With the Ninth Quartet of 1963 we get closer to Weinberg’s late style, of which I am mostly not a fan. But while this work still doesn’t descend quite to the dreariness of the last quartets, it’s hardly distinguished. We have another driving opening movement with quick repeated motives and decent drama. The delicate scherzo that follows is likewise a solid listening experience with some simple ideas that shine through the gloom. Next is a 10-minute Andante – a finely-wrought slow movement that I struggle to describe in further useful terms. A rather nondescript Allegro moderato closes things out. Truthfully, I am listening to the music as I write this paragraph because I have trouble remembering much when it’s not directly in my ears. It more or less holds the attention. But beyond that? There’s nothing here I’m champing at the bit to revisit soon.

I don’t actually have much to say about the Fourteenth Quartet that I haven’t already said about the Thirteenth, Fifteenth, and Sixteenth Quartets in other reviews here. Think second-rate late Shostakovich. If that sounds like your idea of a good time, dive right in. Anyone else who reads this should carefully consider how they want to spend its 25 or so minutes.

Maybe I’m complaining too much. To be sure, I’d gladly take every work on this disc (Fourteenth Quartet included) over anything by Weinberg’s younger contemporaries Schnittke and Gubaidulina. So I guess my definition of “miss” is highly variable after all. And my mild displeasure (as it turns out) has absolutely nothing to do with the excellent performances given here by the Arcadia Quartet. The liner notes make clear that its members really believe in this music. Well, I’m glad for them. If you’re going to perform and record something, you might as well do so with conviction. I’m just not sure that those of us who aren’t Weinberg-o-holics will be able to muster comparable enthusiasm.