By
Karl W. Nehring
Hilary
Hahn: Paris
Chausson:
Poème; Prokofiev: Concerto for Violin and Orchestra No. 1;
Rautavaara: Deux Sérénades. Hilary Hahn, violin; Mikko Franck, Orchestre
Philharmonique de Radio France. Deutsche Grammophon 483 9847.
This
new release from the talented American violinist Hilary Hahn is a delight from
start to finish. Although the album title and orchestra might lead you to
assume a program featuring all French composers, that is not the case here, for
in addition to the French composer Ernest Chausson (1855-1899) we have also
music by the Russian composer Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953) and the Finnish
composer Einojuhani Rautavaara (1928-2016). Hahn reveals her deep affection for
and kinship with the City of Light in an essay in which she explains that in
addition to her many other connections with Paris, her violin was made in Paris
way back in 1865 by a famed luthier whose shop has in the 21st century been
replaced by a convenience store. On a brighter note, she also reveals that she
had long desired to record the Prokofiev, one of her favorite and
most-performed pieces, but was waiting for the right combination of time,
place, orchestra, and conductor, which she realized in Paris with Franck and
the OPRF in June of 2019. The end result is truly lovely, well worth the wait
both for her and for us. Those who might associate Prokofiev with spiky,
boisterous music would do well to listen to this performance of his
Violin
Concerto No. 1, which is lyrical, lively, and lovely. Hahn describes the
Chausson
Poème with which she opens the program as “raw, lush,
heartbreakingly beautiful… it takes my breath away.” Although I have in the
past owned recordings of this piece, and enjoyed them, I had not heard the
piece in many years until I auditioned this new recording, and yes, I found it
to be much as she described. It truly is a marvelous work, well worth seeking
out if you have not yet encountered it. The background story behind the
Deux
Sérénades by Rautavaara that complete this release is told in the liner
notes, a tale that I will not relate here but will rather leave for those who
might be interested to seek out for themselves. The music is quite enjoyable,
but in truth, does not quite sound complete, which a reading of the liner notes
will explain. All in all,
Paris is a heartfelt and satisfying release
from some consummate musicians.
Parallels:
Shellac Reworks by Christian Löffler
Wagner:
Parsifal: Closing Scene (Arr. for Orchestra). Max von Schillings,
Staatskapelle Berlin (1926-27); Smetana: The Moldau (excerpt). Erich
Kleiber, Staatskapelle Berlin (1928); J.S. Bach: Dir, dir Jehova, will ich
singen BWV 452. Karl Straube, Thomanerchor Leipzig; Helmut Walcha, organ
(1927); J.S. Bach: Gavotte from English Suite No. 6, BWV 811. Alfred
Grunfeld, piano (1911); Chopin: Nocturne No. 2 in E flat Major Op. 9 No. 2 (arr.
De Sarasate). Charles Cerne, piano; Vasa Prihoda, violin (1929); Bizet: Nadir’s
Aria from Les pecheurs des perles. Koloman von Pataky, tenor; unknown
orchestra (1928); excerpts from four works by Beethoven: Symphony No. 6.
Hans Pfitzner, Staatskapelle Berlin (1930); Symphony No. 5, 2. Satz.
Richard Strauss, Staatskapelle Berlin (1928); Egmont Overture. Otto
Klemperer, Staatskapelle Berlin (1927); Symphony No. 3, 2. Marcia funebre.
Hans Pfitzner, Berliner Philharmoniker (1929). Christian Löffler, electronics.
Deutsche Grammophon 4839660.
This
is a recording that truly blends the old and the new. Deutsche Grammophon has
one of the oldest sound archives in the world, having taken great care to store
their recorded material ever since the label’s foundation in 1898. Shellac
discs (78s) that held about four minutes of music per side were the dominant
recording format until the 1940s. A number of these historic recordings have
now been digitized and restored, and DG recently teamed with German DJ and
producer Christian Löffler, who hand-picked from this collection of digitized
shellac recordings a set for modern reworking. Löffler is a self-taught
musician whose productions combine elements of dancefloor techno and ambient
electronica. He says that his music “is often described as nostalgic, it’s just
part of my musical world. Sad music – if you want to call it that – has always been
more appealing to me than happy music… I’m quite nerdy when it comes to trendy
music production techniques. I’m very forward thinking and always interested in
new technologies. But many of my trademark sounds come from vintage
synthesizers and old effects devices. I’m just trying to catch the best of any
time period to get the best possible result. My aspiration with this project
was to handle the music with all due respect. That is something I always do
when I work with other people’s music, be it a remix or collaboration. My aim
for
Parallels was to bring the soul of my own music into these original
pieces. I also wanted to keep some parts of the original music almost
untouched, to give the listener a better understanding of the original material
in the context of its new ‘home’.” Yes, his description sounds a bit bizarre,
but the end result is fascinating, hypnotic, and haunting. Electronic sounds,
acoustic sounds, voices from nearly a century ago rising from the mix -- this
is a recording that can be enjoyed both in casual and concentrated listening
modes.
Refraction
Alexander
Woods, violin; Rex Woods, piano; Aubrey Smith Woods, violin. MSR Classics MS
1689.
As
you might guess from the names of the performers, this album of music for
violin is a family affair, presented by violinist Alexander Woods along with
his pianist father, Rex Woods, and his violinist wife, Aubrey Smith Woods.
(Perhaps I am being overly sensitive, but I did find it rather odd that on both
the front and back covers the three names are printed in three distinctly
rank-ordered font styles:
ALEXANDER WOODS, REX WOODS, Aubrey Smith
Woods. Hmmmm…) The four composers are a
mix of the familiar and unfamiliar: Dvorak, Asplund, Mozart, and Thorndock. As
the liner notes explain, “although the violin itself has remained virtually
unchanged for centuries, music composed for the instrument has undergone
numerous and vivid transformations, shaped and developed by varied
circumstances, styles and innovations. Like a light beam passing through a prism.
Works written for the violin have, over time, refracted into a broad stylistic
array of vibrant compositional perspectives. This album mingles canonic violin
works from the past with recent compositions that explore this variegated play,
engaging with the rich history of violin music and performance through myriad
lenses.” The album opens with
Four Romantic Pieces from Dvorak for
violin and piano, which are played here most romantically and enjoyably, a fine
way to start the program. Unfortunately, the next composition,
One Eternal
Round for two violins by Canadian-American composer Christian Asplund (b.
1964), does not fall nearly as naturally on the ear as the others included in
this set. Although it is not aggressively harsh or dissonant as some contemporary
music can be, to these ears at least, it simply lacked any real appeal. YMMV.
But then the players move back to familiar ground with Mozart’s
Violin
Sonata No. 26, a refreshing drink of cool, clear water after the dryness of
the Asplund. The final composition,
A Crust of Azure by American
composer Neil Thorndock (b. 1977), is said in the liner notes to be “influenced
by the impression of music coming down from the sky, ringing like
reverberations from a bell tower. The evocative movement titles [I. Tremulous
Whirl, II. Refraction of Sky, III. Lavender Shroud] allude to the atmospheric
colors, light effects and sensations that descend from the sky’s ‘crust of
azure.’” It truly is a colorful piece,
lively and imaginative, well worth an audition for fans of the violin who are
seeking interesting new repertoire. With excellent engineering and helpful
liner notes, MSR Classics has done a first-class job with this release.
Max
Richter: Voices 2
Max
Richter, piano, keyboards, organ, synthesizer; Mari Samuelsson, solo violin;
Ian Burdge, solo cello; Camilla Pay, harp; Robert Ziegler, conductor; Tenebrae
Choir; various sopranos and altos plus a number of violin, viola, cello, and
double bass players. Decca B00332480-02.
Although Richter’s previous release, Voices (reviewed ) spotlighted the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, including spoken recitations of the text, Voices 2 is exclusively musical, with no textual recitations. According to Richter, Voices 2 “opens up a meditative instrumental musical space to consider the ideas raised by the first record. The music is less about the world we know already and more about the hope for the future we have yet to write.” Those familiar with Richter’s music will know what to expect: music that is on the one hand relatively simple and straightforward in terms of its melodic, harmonic, and rhythmic construction, yet on the other hand, rich and evocative in terms of its instrumentation, sonority, and emotional resonance. There are some striking sounds to be heard from Richter’s various keyboard instruments both acoustic and electronic, plus some particularly notable musical contributions by Mari Samuelsson on violin and Ian Burdge on cello. And no, you need not have listened to Voices to enjoy its successor, which is quite enjoyable on its own terms.
Lento
Religioso
Berg:
Piano Sonata op. 1 (arr. Wijnand van Klaveren); Korngold: Lento
Religioso from Symphonic Serenade; Bruckner; Adagio from String Quintet;
Bridge: Lament for string orchestra (for Catherine, aged 9, “Lusitania”
1915); Lekeu: Adagio pour quatuor d’orchestre; Wagner: Prelude
from Tristan und Isolde; Strauss; Prelude from Capriccio. Candida
Thompson, Amsterdam Sinfonietta. Channel Classics CCS 36620.
As a
glance at the titles of the works included in this generously filled (77:41)
disc should suggest, this release features music from the more serious, somber
pages of the classical music catalog. That is not to say, however, that
listening to it is an emotional downer, as this is music of great depth and
exquisite beauty, played with sensitivity by this relatively small string
orchestra. Some of the selections are scaled down (e.g., the Wagner), some are
scaled up (e.g., the Berg and the Bruckner), and some were originally intended
for an ensemble of about this size. The engineering is first-rate, with clean
string tone and a believable soundfield. All in all, an interesting program of
some works a bit off the beaten path that should be especially appealing to
those who appreciate music of a serious, reflective, but nonetheless
aesthetically engaging nature.
Lindberg:
The Waves of Wollongong
Also,
Liverpool Lullabies; 2017. The New Trombone Collective; Evelyn
Glennie, percussion; Christian Lindberg, trombone and conductor, Antwerp
Symphony Orchestra. BIS-2148 SACD.
If I
had to come up with a one-word description of this release by the Swedish
composer, trombonist, and conductor Christian Lindberg (b. 1958) it would be
“robust.” Or maybe “outgoing.” Or possibly even “swaggering.” It most certainly
would not be “reticent” or “tentative.” The opening piece,
The Waves of
Wollongong (the title refers to waves the composer had experienced in
Wollongong, Australia) features the nine trombones (three each alto, tenor, and
bass) of The New Trombone Collective making mighty waves of sound along with
the orchestra, while the second piece,
Liverpool Lullabies, seems hardly
the sort of music to little ones to sleep as Lindberg on trombone and the
amazing Ms. Glennie on percussion give off plenty of sparks with their
energetic playing. The final piece,
2017, was composed by Lindberg
during that turbulent, discouraging, frightening year as a reaction to the 2016
U.S. presidential election and its disturbing aftermath, and is dedicated to
the journalist Rachel Maddow. Needless to say, it is not a cheerful piece, but
it is musically engaging. As per their usual standard, the BIS engineering team
has captured this robust music in robust, dynamic, swaggering sound that will
tickle your tweeters and waggle your woofers.
Vaughan
Williams: Symphonies Nos. 4 and 6
Sir
Antonio Pappano, London Symphony Orchestra. LSO Live SACD LSO0867.
Vaughan
Williams may well be the most underrated symphonic composer. For my money, his
nine rank right up there with the best, and when it comes to the heart of his
symphonic output,
Symphonies Nos. 3, 4, 5, and 6, I can’t think of any
composer whose 4-6 I would rate above RVW’s – not Mahler, not Bruckner, not
Sibelius, and no, not even the immortal Beethoven. Of those four RVW
symphonies, the odd-numbered are primarily lyrical and peaceful, while the two
even-numbered symphonies, especially
No.4, are much more brash and
assertive. Pappano and the LSO hold nothing back, with the opening notes of
No.
4 bursting forth with startling ferocity. This bold beginning sets the tone
for the entire disc, which presents both symphonies forcefully and
energetically. My only quibble is with some harshness in the upper strings; to
be honest, I am not sure how much is the engineering or how much can be
attributed to the vigor of the performance. My first choice in both symphonies has been the Slatkin recordings from his RCA boxed set (now distributed by Sony Music at a bargain price), but for those looking for a single disc of these two remarkable 20th century masterpieces, this new release from Pappano and the LSO is a top choice. Highly recommended.
KWN
Alban Berg (1885-1935) was an Austrian composer of the modern era. Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) was a German composer of the late Classical-early Romantic period. What's the connection? I mean, there's always a connection when musicians (or producers) pair up different composers on a disc. The album's back-cover note says it's all about "dialogue." Berg, it seems, set his concerto "on the threshold between tradition and revolution, between tonal music and the nascent 'serial' aesthetic; a century earlier, Beethoven had deconstructed formal Classicism to raise the solo violin to the status of a subject in its own right." Apparently, that's the connection, and a rather tenuous one it seems to me. OK, both works are "revolutionary" in their way, I suppose. The main thing is that they are good music.
As moving as the Romantic-Modern Berg concerto is, it cannot compete in the face of Beethoven's monumental and purely Romantic Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61, which still towers above almost everything else in its field. However, I don't think I've ever heard the concerto played more gently or more sweetly than it is here, perhaps to make the connection with the preceding Berg more obvious. Not that the pace is at all slow; indeed, Abbado keeps the tempos moving at a pleasantly moderate speed and never indulges in any untoward oddities of phrasing. It's simply a refined, pastoral, reflective interpretation, with Ms. Faust's violin singing meditatively and beautifully. 
