Transmission (CD review)

Music of Bloch, Korngold, Bruch, and Ravel. Edgar Moreau, cello; Michael Sanderling, Luzerner Sinfonieorchester. Erato 0190295105105.

By John J. Puccio

“I’ve always had a profound love for the music of the great Jewish composers and for compositions on Jewish themes. With the invaluable support of the Luzerner Sinfonieorchester and chief conductor Michael Sandlering I’m proud to lend my voice today to the vital task of transmitting this universal cultural legacy.”  --Edgar Moreau

The French classical cellist Edgar Moreau was born in Paris in 1994, began studying the cello at the age of four, and from the age of sixteen went on to win awards, competitions, and accolades from just about everybody. “Transmission” marks the seventh or eighth record album on which Moreau has appeared.

As he said in the opening quote, Mr. Moreau has a love for the music of great Jewish composers and presents five such pieces for cello on the present album, starting with the little three-movement suite From Jewish Life (1924-25) by the Swiss-born American composer Ernest Bloch (1880-1959). The work’s three sections are like little tone poems with the self-explanatory titles “Prayer: Andante moderato,” “Supplication,” and “Jewish Song.” Moreau demonstrates his love for the music by presenting each section in emotionally passionate yet lyrical terms. The mellow, easygoing sound of the cello naturally makes the most of the music’s pensive, sometimes brooding moods.

Next is the Cello Concerto in C, Op. 37 by the Austrian-born American composer Erich Wolfgang Korngold (1897-1957). Korngold is perhaps best known for his film scores, and the Cello Concerto is no exception. He wrote it for the 1946 movie Deception starring Bette Davis and then later expanded it for the concert stage. If you enjoy Korngold’s movie music (Anthony Adverse, The Sea Hawk, Captain Blood, The Adventures of Robin Hood, King’s Row), you’ll notice a similarity to those grand-scale productions. Moreau, conductor Michael Sanderling, and the Lucerne Symphony players give it their best Hollywood all, while still maintaining the esteem of the classical stage.

After that is one of the several more-famous pieces on the album, Kol Nidrei, by the German composer and conductor Max Bruch (1838-1920). “Kol Nidrei” translates as “All vows,” the opening words of a Jewish prayer sung on the eve of Yom Kippur. After the somewhat swashbuckling nature of the Korngold piece, the Kol Nidrei is a sweet contrast, Moreau playing it in an affectionate, meditative style that never strays too close to sentimentality.

The penultimate selection on the program is another renowned work, Schelomo - Rhapsodie hebraique (1915-16), by the aforementioned Ernest Bloch. The central figure in the piece is King Solomon, although a booklet comment by writer Reinmar Wagner notes that Bloch probably wasn’t so much referring to Solomon as the King but as “a preacher in the desert, who bemoans the vanity of the world and reflects on the transience of life.” Under Moreau and company, the tale unfolds with a clear-eyed vigor.

The album concludes with 2 Melodies hebraiques (1910) by the French composer, pianist, and conductor Maurice Ravel (1875-1937). Ravel included the Melodies as a part of a larger work in which he characterized the music of various peoples of the world, the Melodies becoming some of the most-popular pieces in the work. Moreau captures the color, tranquillity, and charm of the music without indulging in some of the histrionics we’ve sometimes heard from other musicians. He appears to have a keen vision of what he wants to convey in his performances and does so handsomely.

Producers Alain Lanceron and Martin Sauer and engineer Julian Schwenkner made the recording in Lucerne, Switzerland in October 2020. Obviously, the cello plays a prominent place in the sound field. Yet it’s not so forward as to dwarf the accompanying ensemble. While there is perhaps a degree of depth lacking in the sound, as well as its being somewhat soft on details, it is nevertheless easy on the ears and compliments nicely the soulful tone of much of the music. A few instances of impressively deep bass help, too.

JJP

Incantation (CD review)

Music of Bruch, Vitali, Saint-Saens, Tchaikovsky, Bloch, Chausson, and Umebayashi. Virgil Boutellis-Taft, violin; Jac Van Steen, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. Aparte Music AP234.

Nobody tells me anything.

I learn about thousands of classical CD titles and listen to hundreds of classical recordings every year, but I still don't know who all the rising young classical artists are in the world. Take, for example, French violinist Virgil Boutellis-Taft. His biography reads, "Hailed by critics as an 'outstanding violinist,' 'of fiery temperament,' with 'intense, brilliant, sumptuous sound' and 'impressive virtuosity,' Virgil Boutellis-Taft performs as soloist and chamber musician in major international concert halls." From Wikipedia we learn that he "began studying violin and piano at the age of 6...and gave his first concerts at the age of 9."

Incantation is Boutellis-Taft's second record album, taking its title from the word meaning "the chanting or uttering of words purporting to have magical power; the formula employed; a spell or charm," according to Dictionary.com. The accompanying booklet notes that "'Incantation,' from the Latin word incantare, ranges in meaning from ordinary singing that is 'enchanting' to music in a religious context with a ritual function, as in Gregorian plainchant, then to the unsettling use of magic or demonic spells or charms." Apparently, Mr. Boutellis-Taft in this album is going for the "spiritual, magical, mesmerizing aspects of incantation."

I would have preferred he had just said, "Here are a few of my favorite short violin pieces that let me display my fiery temperament, brilliant sound, and impressive virtuosity." Whatever, the following is a list of what's on the album:

1. "Kol Nidrei" by Max Bruch
2. "Chaccone in G minor" by Tomaso Antonio Vitali
3. "Danse macabre" by Camile Saint-Saens
4. "Serenade melancolique" by Peter Tchaikovsky
5. "Nigun" by Ernest Bloch
6. "Poeme for violin and orchestra" by Ernest Chausson
7. "Yumeji's Theme" by Shigeru Umebayashi

Virgil Boutellis-Taft

The opening number, Kol Nidrei ("All Vows"), which German composer Max Bruch (1838-1920) wrote in 1880 is a good example of "incantation." It's a series of variations on mostly Jewish liturgical themes. It has a beautifully lyrical character, and Boutellis-Taft invests it with much personality. The piece is a plaintive expression of religious themes, originally intended for cello but here transcribed for violin. In addition, Boutellis-Taft has elected to omit the middle section, which gets a bit flowery Romantic, and instead repeats the central theme in keeping with the Jewish service it represents. The soloist creates a refreshing new look at an old favorite.

And so it goes, with Boutellis-Taft endowing each work with much expressive distinction and beauty. The Chaconne in G minor, ascribed to Italian composer and violist Tomaso Vitali (1663-1745), continues in that vein, making an almost seamless segue from the Bruch piece. Boutellis-Taft's playing is fluid, effortless, and eloquent, and the Royal Philharmonic's accompaniment sounds as rich as ever.

The Danse macabre (1874) by French composer Camille Saint-Saens (1835-1921) may seem like a giant leap from the preceding two more contemplative pieces, but, in fact, Boutellis-Taft makes the leap with consummate ease, taking the work a little less demonically than some interpreters do and filling it with much poetic beauty. I would note here, too, that Boutellis-Taft uses a new violin-and-orchestra rendering of the piece, not Saint-Saens's original orchestral version.

My own favorite among the seven selections was the Poeme pour violin et orchestre by French composer Ernest Chausson (1855-1899). Boutellis-Taft brings out all the exotic color of the work without resorting to any hint of over sentimentalizing or romanticizing. It's quite lovely.

Incantation lives up to its name, manifesting much magic, mystery, beauty, enchantment, and angelic intensity thanks to Boutellis-Taft's heartfelt execution. He is a performer to be reckoned with, and I expect we will be hearing more good things from him from here on out.

Producers Hugo Scremin and Nicolas Bartholomee and engineer Francois Eckert recorded the music at Henry Wood Hall, London in July 2019. The sound is very clean, if a bit one-dimensional. Definition is precise, and the violin appears well integrated with the orchestra, not too far in front yet not overpowered by the orchestral forces. The frequency response is nicely balanced as well, although the highest treble and deepest bass seem a tad lacking. Nevertheless, most listeners should find it more than satisfactory. Ditto for the dynamic range and impact. Very cleanly executed.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Four Centuries (CD review)

Susan Merdinger, piano; David Yonan, violin. Sheridan Music Studio.

Among my favorite pianists is Steinway artist Susan Merdinger. On the present album, Four Centuries, she teams up with violinist David Yonan for a program of music that takes us from the 1700's to the present. They do pieces by Mozart, Schumann, Bloch, and Levinson, and they do them exceptionally well. In fact, Ms. Merdinger and Mr. Yonan make some exceedingly beautiful music together.

The juxtaposition of old and new music works well and makes for some fascinating listening. What's more, the duo of Merdinger and Yonan brings with it a much-appreciated warmth and enthusiasm. While both performers are capable of and often display virtuosic playing, neither of them tries to get too fancy or upstage the other. They work as one player instead of two, the results quite satisfying.

The first work on the agenda is the Sonata No. 13 for Piano and Violin in B-flat major, K. 454 by Austrian composer and pianist Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791). Written in 1784, Mozart intended it as a piece he would play together with violin virtuoso Regina Strinasacci at a concert in Vienna. With Merdinger and Yonan, the Mozart is both lively and relaxed as the occasion demands. They give the outer movements the spark they need, and they apply a sweet, gentle touch to the Andante.

The next work is the Sonata for Violin and Piano No. 1 in A minor, Op. 105 by German composer Robert Schumann (1810-1856). He wrote it late in life, 1851, and premiered it in 1852 with Ferdinand David on violin and the composer's wife Clara on piano. In contrast to the high good spirits of the Mozart, the Schumann piece is more solemn, especially the first movement. The second movement sounds richly melodic, particularly as Merdinger and Yonan handle it. Then we get a somewhat agitated final movement, in which the performers emphasize the distress and conflict to passionate effect.

Susan Merdinger

After that we hear a piece from the twentieth century, the Suite Hebraique for Violin and Piano by Swiss-born composer Ernest Bloch (1880-1959). Bloch wrote the music in 1950 for the Covenant Club of Chicago, which had just sponsored a festival of his music. Merdinger and Yonan bring out Bloch's clearly though not always obvious Hebraic influences. The violin was not Bloch's first choice for the work; originally, he wrote it for cello, a more somber instrument, and later he adapted it for violin. Still, it works out well for Yonan's violin, which supplies a demonstrative voice to the proceedings.

The final work on the album is Elegy: Crossing the Bridge, for Violin and Piano, written in 2011 by Russian-born composer Ilya Levinson (b. 1958) and dedicated to David Yonan, who performed its world debut. Merdinger and Yonan's rendering of the piece is its official world-premiere recording. Levinson's work is the shortest on the disc at a single movement of about nine minutes. As with so much modern music, it has multiple meanings, the business of "crossing the bridge" referring to the actual playing technique as well as "getting in touch with the reality outside of commonly known human senses," as Lawrence Block writes in the booklet notes. Fair enough, and certainly it presents the listener with a variety of mood changes from "elegiac to tragic" and on to the other side of the bridge and a glimpse of "the Great Beyond." So, it's not only an interesting piece of music, it's rather ambitious as well. Whatever, Yonan and Merdinger infuse it with a rich, intense, sinuous longing that is quite moving.

Recording and mastering engineer James Auwarter and producer Susan Merdinger made the album at the Anne and Howard Gottlieb Hall at the Merit School of Music, Chicago, Illinois in July 2015. Played back at a realistic level, the disc offers among the best sound you'll find in any solo or duet album. The relative positioning of the violin and piano seems as perfect as it can be, with a lifelike balance in both tone and space. Clarity is outstanding, too, without being forward, bright, or brittle. The instruments simply sound natural, with a hint of room ambience to give them an even more accurate presence. It's quite a beautiful disc to hear, actually.

Among the places you can find the album is Ms. Merdinger's own Web site: http://www.susanmerdingerpianist.com/store

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here:

Sol Gabetta: Prayer (CD review)

Music of Bloch, Shostakovich, and Casals. Sol Gabetta, cello; various conductors and ensembles. Sony Classical 88883762172.

"Shake and shake
The catsup bottle.
None'll come--
And then a lot'll."

--Richard Armour

It seems for quite some time we never got any new recordings of Ernest Bloch's Schelomo. Then, in the past two years, we seem to have gotten a slew of them. Or a lot'll.

Internationally famous, award-winning Argentine cellist Sol Gabetta in her album Prayer explores several interesting paths. One is that the program follows in the footsteps of possibly the most-famous cellist of all time, Pablo Casals, with one of Casal's pieces alongside those of Ernest Bloch and Dmitri Shostakovich. Two, it involves works with a Jewish theme. And, three, it includes Bloch's "Prayer," which Ms. Gabetta has played many times as an encore during concerts and which inspired her to include it in the album and make it the album's title.

First up on Ms. Gabetta's program are three pieces called "From Jewish Life" and two other short works by Swiss-born American composer Ernest Bloch (1880-1959). The first of these is "Prayer," and this time, rather than as an encore, she plays it first. It's a sweet, mournful, soul-searching sort of affair, and it does its job introducing us to the type of music coming up throughout the album. Ms. Gabetta's playing highlights the lyrical qualities of Bloch's works, her cello flowing through the notes effortlessly, her emphasis more on the beauty of the music than on its obvious sorrowful qualities. Still, it's clearly sad music, played slowly and emotionally, so I don't want to imply that Ms. Gabetta misses its main point. It's just that she makes the sadness sound lovely and almost inviting.

The first group of Bloch tunes ends with "Meditation hebraique," which dates from 1924 and which Bloch dedicated to Pablo Casals; thus, another Casals connection. Here, Ms. Gabetta allows her cello to express more anguish than in the previous pieces.

Next are four movements "From Jewish Folk Poetry" by Russian composer and pianist Dmitri Shostakovich (1906-1975). They date from 1948 and describe traditional Russian life under Tsarist rule many years earlier. The composer intended his little tone poems as small protests against the anti-Semitic tone of a Soviet decree of the time condemning modern music. The works have a simple, plaintive quality about them, and under Ms. Gabetta's guidance even the more up-tempo tunes possess a solemn if again lyrical feeling.

Then we come to the program's penultimate piece, Schelomo (Solomon), which Bloch wrote in 1916-17, one of his "Jewish Cycle." Bloch wrote of this period in his composing life, "I do not propose or desire to attempt a reconstruction of the music of the Jews or to base my work on melodies more or less authentic. It is rather the Hebrew spirit that interests me, the complex, ardent, agitated soul that vibrates for me in the Bible."

Sol Gabetta

The last performance of the work I listened to was that of Zuill Bailey, whose playing I found rhapsodic and his Solomon genuinely profound and brooding. Ms. Gabetta's reading is a little different from his, still highly rhapsodic but less brooding and sorrowful than it is graceful and poetic. Ms. Gabetta gives us, perhaps, a more youthful Solomon, a man slightly less doleful and gloomy and a touch more optimistic about life. Her tone is lighter than Bailey's, the cello sounding a bit less firm and solid yet every bit as rich.

Ms. Gabetta ends the program with El Cant dels Ocells ("The Song of the Birds") by the Spanish cellist, conductor, and composer Pablo Casals (1876-1973). Although Casals did not intend his composition to have anything to do with the Jewish experience, it makes an appropriately touching conclusion to the proceedings and fits into the mood of the album nicely, played sweetly and tenderly by Ms. Gabetta.

Accompanying Ms. Gabetta on the first nine tracks is the Amsterdam Sinfonietta under the direction of Candida Thompson. Accompanying Schelomo is Leonard Slatkin and the Orchestre National de Lyon. And accompanying the final number is the Cello Ensemble Amsterdam Sinfonietta. The total timing for the disc is under an hour, which would seem short measure for a classical album; nevertheless, given the unsmiling nature of the music, it's probably enough.

As I say, I found everything attractively played by Ms. Gabetta, if not always as expressively as I'd have liked. It's as though she tried to make what is essentially a downer of an album into something sweeter and more reassuring. Maybe it was just too saccharine for my taste, or maybe I still had Zuill Bailey's more muscular approach in mind while listening. In any case, she will please her fans, and there's no question she makes beautiful music.

Producers and engineers Jared Sacks and Rainer Maillard recorded the music at Leiden, Netherlands and Lyon, France in 2012 and 2014. The engineers have miked the cello rather close up, so it tends to loom large in the sound field and dominate everything else. I'm not sure one would ever hear this kind of sound live, where the solo instrument and the orchestra would appear more integrated, better balanced. The sound is also a bit flat dimensionally and surprisingly soft from this source, Sony usually providing a more transparent midrange. Nevertheless, the sonics are quite listenable, easy on the ear; and the somewhat soft, warm acoustic does tend to complement the plaintive nature of the music.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here:

Bloch: Schelomo (CD review)

Also, Three Jewish Poems; Muhly: Cello Concerto. Zuill Bailey, cello; Jun Markl, Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra. Steinway & Sons 30049.

I've always thought of the three sections of Bloch's Schelomo ("Solomon") as representing birth, life, and death, but I suppose I'm just too simplistic (or simpleminded). Swiss-born American Jewish composer Ernest Bloch (1880-1959) described his Hebraic Rhapsody for Cello and Orchestra as a "psychoanalysis" of his own creative process, saying that the solo cello represents King Solomon and the orchestra the world around us, and the whole thing represented his own life experience. In another way of looking at it, the solo cello expresses Solomon's words as expressed in the Book of Ecclesiastes 1:2-9, and the orchestra reflects his inner thoughts. Fair enough.

Schelomo is the first item on this album from cellist Zuill Bailey, conductor Jun Markl, and the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra, an album that also includes Bloch's Three Jewish Poems and a premiere recording of Nico Muhly's new Cello Concerto.

But first, Schelomo. Bloch wrote it in 1916-17, one of the composer's "Jewish Cycle." Bloch wrote of this period in his composing life, "I do not propose or desire to attempt a reconstruction of the music of the Jews or to base my work on melodies more or less authentic. It is rather the Hebrew spirit that interests me, the complex, ardent, agitated soul that vibrates for me in the Bible."

Bailey's playing is rhapsodic, and his Solomon sounds genuinely profound, brooding, and sorrowful. Everything about the soloist's performance and the orchestral accompaniment seems letter-perfect to convey Bloch's despairing moods and tone shifts. This is, in fact, one of the most-powerful readings of the score I've heard, powerful emotionally as well as powerful musically. Bailey has always appeared to me a rather forceful player, his cello always dominating a performance, and here he finds a perfect piece for his style. He simply becomes Solomon.

The first of two couplings on the album is a new work by Nico Muhly (b. 1981), Cello Concerto, here finding its world-premiere recording. Muhly himself describes it as "something formally traditional (fast-slow-fast) but with steadily developing content. The first movement is angular, the second supple and the third motoric; there is constant progression and no looking back."

Zuill Bailey

Muhly's new work is obviously more modern than Bloch's, and one has to get used to its often sharper, more jarring qualities. Nevertheless, Bailey and his cello easily negotiate its insistent rhythms and occasional lyrical passages, and even if you don't care for the music, it at least keeps one's interest throughout. The second, slow movement is especially fascinating as it develops a shimmering line that gets more conspicuous as the decorative frills fall away and leave it to bask in the beauty of its own unpretentiousness. The final movement seems almost playful by comparison to the music that precedes it. Although I didn't find it a particularly memorable work, it's certainly fun while it lasts.

Then it's back to Bloch with the program's concluding work, his Three Jewish Poems for orchestra. These pieces have always seemed to me more Jewish than most of Bloch's other Jewish music, more freely infused with traditional Jewish folk tunes and inflections, perhaps because they were the earliest of Bloch's "Jewish Cycle." Markl and the Indianapolis Symphony do a good job keeping all of it fresh and alive, joyous or solemn as the situation demands.

One of the finest production teams in the country made the disc: Producer Thomas C. Moore and engineer Michael Bishop of Five/Four Productions, Ltd. They recorded the music at Hilbert Circle Theater, Indianapolis, and Clonick Hall Studio, Oberlin Conservatory of Music in August and November 2013. The sound is, in a word, superb. It's as realistically natural as you could want, with both the cello and the orchestra appearing to be in the same room with you. There's an almost startlingly lifelike quality present, the strings vibrant, the cello rich and mellow, the midrange transparency excellent, the air and space and ambience just right. Highs are well extended; bass is deep and solid; dynamics are strong and wide; I could go on. Suffice to say, this is among the best-sounding new recordings I've heard in quite a while.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here: