Showing posts with label Eno. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eno. Show all posts

Aug 10, 2022

Piano Potpourri, No. 9 (CD mini-reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Rachmaninov: Piano Sonata No. 1 in D minor Op. 28; Prelude in D minor Op. posth.; Oskolki ‘Fragments’; Oriental sketch; Nunc dimittis from All-Night Vigil ‘Vespers’; Moments musicaux Op 16. Steven Osborne, piano. Hyperion CDA68365.

These days the tendency is to think of Russian composer Sergei Rachmaninov (1873-1943) primarily as the composer of piano concertos (especially his second and third) and symphonies (again, especially his second and third) and forget that he was one of the greatest piano virtuosos the world has ever known (blessed with amazingly large hands) and the composer of many and varied compositions for solo piano. It takes a true master of the keyboard to do these works justice, and the good gentleman from Scotland, Steven Osborne (b. 1971), is a modern-day pianist well-suited to the task. The major work on the program is the one that leads it off, the Piano Sonata No. 1, its imposing three movements taking up more than 35 minutes as performed here. From the opening measures you can gather that it was indeed composed by a keyboard virtuoso, with fingers being asked to fly and flutter across the keyboard with breathtaking abandon. The middle movement. marked Lento, is less feverishly paced but still densely packed with expression – and notes – and then the Allegro molto finale brings fourteen minutes of pianistic grandeur. Osborne then changes the mood with some shorter pieces before presenting the other major composition on the program, the six Moments musicaux, which present a variety of moods, from intense to reflective, from somber to playful. Hyperion provides Osborne with a warm sound, somewhat more ambient than then norm, but at least in my stero setup, the piano image seemed a bit too large at times, with the sections of the keyboard somewhat disconnected from each other. Still, I prefer this kind of sound to the too-close approach too often encountered. Overall, this is a splendid disc.

Chopin: Nocturne in C minor Op. 48/1; Nocturne in E Major Op. 62/2; Fantasy in F minor Op. 49; Piano Sonata No. 3 in B minor Op. 58. Ivo Pogorelich, piano. Sony Classics  9439912052.

The Yugoslav-born Croatian pianist Ivo Pogorelich (b. 1958) first received widespread attention in 1980 at the International Chopin Piano Competition when the famed and revered pianist Martha Argerich resigned from the jury in protest after Pogorelich was eliminated in the third round, calling the young pianist a “genius.” Some critics loved him, others looked down on him. His live recitals were wildly popular, but his early recordings received mixed reviews. He then went two decades without releasing a recording, finally returning to the studio in 2019. Which brings us to his most recent effort, which focuses on some of the later works of Chopin, and finds him now releasing this recording through the Sony Classics label after a long association with Deutsche Grammophon. Pogorelich brings out the dramatic elements in this music, emphasizing dynamic contrasts and displaying he ability to play with both power and sensitivity. This is clearly music that is close to his heart, but he does not let that constrain him to play it softly and sweetly – he plays it with power and authority. He is aided in this effort by the engineering, which presents his Steinway in very agreeable sound: powerful, yet smooth and focused.

Chopin: Scherzos Nos. 1-4; Polonaise-fantaisie in A-flat major, Op. 61; Andante Spianato et Grande Polonaise Brillante, Op. 22; Fantaisie-impromptu, Op. 66. Naive V 7700. 

1908. Ravel: Gaspard de la nuit; Rachmaninoff: Piano Sonata No. 1 in D minor Op. 28. Valentin Lisitsa, piano. Naïve V 7583.

Pianist Valentina Lisitsa (b. 1973) followed an unusual path to musical fame. In 2007 she posted a video of her playing Rachmaninoff to YouTube. She started getting some hits, picking up some followers, and things took off from there. In 2012, she parlayed her YouTube popularity into a contract with Decca, which led to a series of her recordings being released on that label. Today, she has well more than 500,000 subscribers on YouTube and a new three-year contract with the French recording label, Naïve. Should you be curious about what her videos might be like, you can find a sampling here: http://www.valentinalisitsa.com/video.

The liner notes of the Chopin album include an interview with Lisitsa that include some interesting observations about Chopin’s music and her approach to playing it, such as, “One of the best pieces of advice I received as a young student was: ‘Don’t ever play Chopin as if he were about to die from tuberculosis.’ I was startled by this phrase, and I only began to understand its many levels of meaning later on… Only when I heard the finished recording as a whole did I realise how dramatic it had turned out to be.” Those taking a look at the cover photo of Ms. Lisitsa who might somehow be expecting a dreamy, “feminine” (whatever that might quite be) performance will be in for something of a surprise, as these readings are, as the pianist has herself characterized them, on the dramatic side. These are compositions that are colorful and extroverted, not subdued and introspective, and that is how Ms. Lisitsa plays them. They are also varied in structure, Chopin letting his creative imagination wander freely; here they sound playful more so than dreamy. The piano (a Steinway) sounds full and warm; it was recorded by a Russian team that really seemed to have things dialed in just fine.

The liner notes for 1908 observe that “the year 1908 was one filled with activity: the Ford Model T car, the Paris premiere of Boris Godunov in Diaghilev’s Saison Russe, the mysterious Tunguska meteorite event, still not fully explained even today, the Messina earthquake… it was also then year in which two of the greatest living composers, from France and Russia respectively, composed their most substantial piano works. Maurice Ravel wrote Gaspard de la nuit and famously claimed it to be the hardest piano work ever composed, while Sergei Rachmaninoff wrote his Piano Sonata No. 1 – a monstrously difficult piece, and by far the longest solo piano work he would ever write. The two three-movement works may not sound the same — Ravel’s exquisite and dazzling suite versus Rachmaninoff’s powerful, dark, intense, and thrilling sonata.” Lisitsa presents the Ravel piece first on the program. In her hands, it does not seem to sound as though it is the most difficult piece to play ever composed (of course, more than a century has passed since its composition – yikes!), but it is certainly a dazzling work, an imaginative, lively, exuberant composition that the listener can hardly believe came from the same fellow who wrote the much more stately Le Tombeau de Couperin for piano, a performance of which was recently reviewed here:  https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/08/piano-potpourri-no-8-cd-reviews.html.

Then it is on to the Rachmaninoff, that imposing thunderstorm of a sonata. Once again, as in the Ravel, Lisitsa has the technique to master this difficult piece and play it with confidence and power. As in the Ravel, she does not sound in the least bit reticent about attacking the keyboard with assertive confidence, allowing the sheer energy of Rachmaninoff’s writing to burst forth. Her love for this music is apparent in the way she makes it ring out.

Given that I had the Osborne recording available for comparison, I spent some time going back and forth between these two excellent releases to listen for differences in both sonics and interpretation.  My goal is not to pick a “winner,” but rather to offer a quick overview of the differences that I heard between the two. In general, Osborne’s performance was on the smoother, more delicate side, while Lisitsa seemed to play with a bit more dramatic flair.

It is interesting to note that there is a very real sense in which it is simply not possible to completely impressions about sonics from judgments about musical interpretation. Things get complicated. For example, consider that Osborne on Hyperion was playing on a Steinway piano, while Lisitsa on Naïve was playing on a Bösendorfer, not to mention that of course the engineering teams and venues, recording equipment, etc., were completely different for each performer. And, of course, the output levels of the two CDs are not matched. With all those caveats in mind, I would venture to say that the sound of the Hyperion CD had a slightly warmer piano sound, with a touch more ambience, and Osborne’s performance came across as more deft, with a finer touch. The piano sound on the Naïve CD seemed a bit more closely miked, with the piano having a slightly “ringier” sound. However, the image seemed more coherent and the piano seemed livelier (which may have simply been a function of being mixed at a higher level). The performance by Lisitsa came across as more lively and dynamic, which may be in part be due to the lively and dynamic sound. In any event, the Lisitsa recording is an exciting and entertaining release.

The Turning Year. Roger Eno, piano, synthesizers; Scoring Berlin; Christian Badzura, electronics; Tibor Reman, clarinet. Deutsche Grammophon 486 2024.

Some time ago we reviewed an album titled Mixing Colours by the English brother duo Brian and Roger Eno, which you can read about here: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/12/some-new-releases-cdsacd-mini-reviews.html. What we have here is an album by keyboardist and composer Roger (b. 1959), whose background has been primarily in ambient music. The music that Eno has composed for The Turning Year, however, has more of a serious, classical feel to it, even though his piano has a more processed sound than would be expected in a more straightforward classical album. There is some added ambience, some electronic processing; still, the overall sound has a nostalgic, almost sentimental sound at times. Eno says of the album, “On listening back to the finished album, I felt it could be seen as series of short stories or photographs of individual scenes, each containing their own character. It was only after I’d finally finalized the running order that I realized just how much of a close relationship one piece has to another and it was this realization perhaps that led to the album’s title.” As summer gets ready to turn into fall, this album might be a fitting soundtrack.

KWN

Sep 25, 2019

Mari: (CD Review)

Mari Samuelsen, violin; Christian Badzura, piano and synthesizer; Konzerthausorchester Berlin conducted by Jonathan Stockhammer. Works by Martynov, Richter, Glass, Vasks, Eno/Hopkins/Abrahams, Johansson, Bach, Badzura, Gregson, Eno/Roedelius/Moebius, and Clark. DG 483 58694 GH2.

By Karl W. Nehring

Violinist Mari Samuelsen has brought together a collection of interesting new music mixed with some pieces by Bach. Fortunately for us listeners, she proves adept in music from both eras, delivering us a two-CD set of delightful variety.

The set opens with the delightful second movement from Vladimir Martynov's "Come In!," a piece that will probably be unfamiliar to many of our readers. If you are delighted by this movement, which I believe many readers will be once they have heard Mari's version, you will do well to seek out a performance of the whole six-movement composition (there is an interesting CD titled Silencio by Gidon Kremer that contains the complete piece along with some music by Pärt and Glass). 

Next up is a composition by Max Richter titled Dona Nobis Pacem 2, a work that like much of Richter's music has both a minimalist and Romantic feel to it. That may sound contradictory, I know, but if you listen to this cut, you may well find those modes to be embodied in a complementary rather than contradictory fashion.

Knock knock
Knock knock
Knock knuck
Knock knock
Knock knick
Knack knock
Knock knock
Who's there?!
Philip Glass

The above joke, something I saw recently on Twitter, sets the stage for the next cut, Philip Glass's Einstein on the Beach: Knee Play 2. I hope I have not offended any Philip Glass fans (to be honest, I am not much of a fan, although I do really enjoy some of his music, as you will discover below if you have not already stopped reading this review in disgust). In the liner notes, Ms. Samuelsen describes this piece as "fireworks of neurons in the brain… it's a ridiculous piece to play, never ending and very difficult. But it serves as a contrast, which I think is important." She certainly throws energy into her rendition, and yes, it does serve as quite a contrast to much of the other music in this collection.

Indeed, the next composition, Lonely Angel by Peteris Vasks, plumbs emotional depths of yearning and despair while yet offering a glimmer of hope and compassion. The solo violin sings eloquently above the orchestra. This is truly a moving performance of some beautiful music, which is followed by the brief but lovely Emerald and Stone by Eno et al., which is in turn followed by Vocal, in which Max Richter evokes the spirit of Bach in a gentle meditation for solo violin.

Mari Samuelsen
Another significant mood swing brings us an arrangement of Heptapod B by the late Johann Johannson from his soundtrack to the movie Arrival (a fascinating film, based on the short story "Story of your Life" by Ted Chiang, which you really should read before seeing the movie – or if you have already seen the movie, which you will probably want to watch again if you read the story for the first time. "Story of Your Life" can be found in Chiang's collection, Stories of Your Life and Others, a hardbound volume that has been republished in paperback with the new title – you guessed it! – Arrival. Fascinating story, fascinating film, fascinating soundtrack, and fascinating inclusion in this collection.

From science fiction the music then shifts to a brief arrangement for solo violin and strings of Bach's Invention No. 13 in A minor, BWV 784, then back to the future (for Bach, anyway – back to the recent past for us) and an absolutely lovely bit of music by Glass, the second movement of his Violin Concerto. I can still recall being totally entranced by his concerto when I first heard it many years ago in my driveway though some relatively (okay, absolutely) lo-fi speakers in one of my long-ago cars. The mood of the Glass Concerto carries into the final piece on CD1, Christian Badzura's 847, which sounds much like the Glass but with a touch less of wistfulness and a dash more of energy.

CD2 opens with the longest selection in the program, the Chaconne from Partita for Violin Solo in D minor, BWV 1004 by Bach, sounding both lively and lovely in Mari's performance. Immediately following is an arrangement for solo violin and strings of Bach's Prelude in D major, BWV 850.

Just as the Glass Violin Concerto had been followed by a Richter composition that echoed its overall sound and mood on CD1, on CD2 we find compositions first by Richter, Fragment, for solo violin, and then Peter Gregson, Sequence (Four), a piece for solo violin and strings, both of which are clearly in the spirit of Bach's music. The Gregson piece begins somewhat austerely, then grows in emotional content as it moves along, blossoming into an expressive, touching musical composition.

Also expressive in the next selection, another piece by Martynov, this one titled The Beatitudes. The melodic lines are fairly simple, but they carry great power, reminding us that beatitudes are blessings.

Simple melodies with expressive power are also manifest in By This River, a gentle composition by Brian Eno, Hans-Joachim Roedelius, and Dieter Moebius. In such simple melodies, tender feelings are given wings. 

Next on Mari's agenda is more Bach, the Presto from Sonata for Violin Solo in G minor, BWV 1001, which is followed by Christopher Clark's Mammal Step Sequence, a composition whose title might sound a bit out there, but which proves to be a relatively straightforward and pleasant composition for violin and piano, with Mari accompanied on the latter by Christian Badzura.

The delightfully titled Good Night, Day by Johann Johannson is next on the program, a gentle piece for violin and orchestra that casts a spell somewhere between a lament and a lullaby. Hearing this music, as enjoyable as it is, cannot help but make me sad to realize that its wonderfully creative composer left us all too early.

An echo of what has gone before returns in the penultimate piece in the program, Max Richter's November for violin and orchestra. There is plenty of propulsive energy here, a feeling of driving toward the finish, the end in sight, the race nearly won.

The program closes with Peter Gregson's Lullaby for solo violin, a peaceful composition that is not without an undercurrent of energy and agitation, the lullaby expressing what many of us need before retiring for the night, a working out of tension and anxiety before settling into slumber.

Ms. Samuelsen points out in the liner notes that she has "a personal connection to every single piece, and I think it's a very natural journey… the need of going into a room and just listening to sound – almost like sound therapy – is bigger than ever. People are hungry for it, and I wanted to use my creativity to collaborate and experiment with some of the great people living today. Slowing down, and people leaving their busy lives behind, is only going to become more important, so I think there will be more room for this type of collaboration, and this type of music."

Mari truly does deliver a remarkable musical experience, one that soothes the soul while still stimulating the mind. This is not dreamy New Age meandering, it is focused and purposeful serious "classical" music both old and new. The production values are top-notch. In closing, I will mention that Ms. Samuelsen has also made an earlier recording somewhat similar in tone titled Nordic Noir, which is also well worth seeking out. I look forward eagerly to future releases from this remarkable musician.

KWN

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

Meet the Staff

Meet the Staff
John J. Puccio, Founder and Contributor

Understand, I'm just an everyday guy reacting to something I love. And I've been doing it for a very long time, my appreciation for classical music starting with the musical excerpts on the Big Jon and Sparkie radio show in the early Fifties and the purchase of my first recording, The 101 Strings Play the Classics, around 1956. In the late Sixties I began teaching high school English and Film Studies as well as becoming interested in hi-fi, my audio ambitions graduating me from a pair of AR-3 speakers to the Fulton J's recommended by The Stereophile's J. Gordon Holt. In the early Seventies, I began writing for a number of audio magazines, including Audio Excellence, Audio Forum, The Boston Audio Society Speaker, The American Record Guide, and from 1976 until 2008, The $ensible Sound, for which I served as Classical Music Editor.

Today, I'm retired from teaching and use a pair of bi-amped VMPS RM40s loudspeakers for my listening. In addition to writing for the Classical Candor blog, I served as the Movie Review Editor for the Web site Movie Metropolis (formerly DVDTown) from 1997-2013. Music and movies. Life couldn't be better.

Karl Nehring, Editor and Contributor

For nearly 30 years I was the editor of The $ensible Sound magazine and a regular contributor to both its equipment and recordings review pages. I would not presume to present myself as some sort of expert on music, but I have a deep love for and appreciation of many types of music, "classical" especially, and have listened to thousands of recordings over the years, many of which still line the walls of my listening room (and occasionally spill onto the furniture and floor, much to the chagrin of my long-suffering wife). I have always taken the approach as a reviewer that what I am trying to do is simply to point out to readers that I have come across a recording that I have found of interest, a recording that I think they might appreciate my having pointed out to them. I suppose that sounds a bit simple-minded, but I know I appreciate reading reviews by others that do the same for me — point out recordings that they think I might enjoy.

For readers who might be wondering about what kind of system I am using to do my listening, I should probably point out that I do a LOT of music listening and employ a variety of means to do so in a variety of environments, as I would imagine many music lovers also do. Starting at the more grandiose end of the scale, the system in which I do my most serious listening comprises Marantz CD 6007 and Onkyo CD 7030 CD players, NAD C 658 streaming preamp/DAC, Legacy Audio PowerBloc2 amplifier, and a pair of Legacy Audio Focus SE loudspeakers. I occasionally do some listening through pair of Sennheiser 560S headphones. I miss the excellent ELS Studio sound system in our 2016 Acura RDX (now my wife's daily driver) on which I had ripped more than a hundred favorite CDs to the hard drive, so now when driving my 2024 Honda CRV Sport L Hybrid, I stream music from my phone through its adequate but hardly outstanding factory system. For more casual listening at home when I am not in my listening room, I often stream music through a Roku Streambar Pro system (soundbar plus four surround speakers and a 10" sealed subwoofer) that has surprisingly nice sound for such a diminutive physical presence and reasonable price. Finally, at the least grandiose end of the scale, I have an Ultimate Ears Wonderboom II Bluetooth speaker and a pair of Google Pro Earbuds for those occasions where I am somewhere by myself without a sound system but in desperate need of a musical fix. I just can’t imagine life without music and I am humbly grateful for the technologies that enable us to enjoy it in so many wonderful ways.

William (Bill) Heck, Webmaster and Contributor

Among my early childhood memories are those of listening to my mother playing records (some even 78 rpm ones!) of both classical music and jazz tunes. I suppose that her love of music was transmitted genetically, and my interest was sustained by years of playing in rock bands – until I realized that this was no way to make a living. The interest in classical music was rekindled in grad school when the university FM station serving as background music for studying happened to play the Brahms First Symphony. As the work came to an end, it struck me forcibly that this was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard, and from that point on, I never looked back. This revelation was to the detriment of my studies, as I subsequently spent way too much time simply listening, but music has remained a significant part of my life. These days, although I still can tell a trumpet from a bassoon and a quarter note from a treble clef, I have to admit that I remain a nonexpert. But I do love music in general and classical music in particular, and I enjoy sharing both information and opinions about it.

The audiophile bug bit about the same time that I returned to classical music. I’ve gone through plenty of equipment, brands from Audio Research to Yamaha, and the best of it has opened new audio insights. Along the way, I reviewed components, and occasionally recordings, for The $ensible Sound magazine. Most recently I’ve moved to my “ultimate system” consisting of a BlueSound Node streamer, an ancient Toshiba multi-format disk player serving as a CD transport, Legacy Wavelet II DAC/preamp/crossover, dual Legacy PowerBloc2 amps, and Legacy Signature SE speakers (biamped), all connected with decently made, no-frills cables. With the arrival of CD and higher resolution streaming, that is now the source for most of my listening.

Ryan Ross, Contributor

I started listening to and studying classical music in earnest nearly three decades ago. This interest grew naturally out of my training as a pianist. I am now a musicologist by profession, specializing in British and other symphonic music of the 19th and 20th centuries. My scholarly work has been published in major music journals, as well as in other outlets. Current research focuses include twentieth-century symphonic historiography, and the music of Jean Sibelius, Ralph Vaughan Williams, and Malcolm Arnold.

I am honored to contribute writings to Classical Candor. In an age where the classical recording industry is being subjected to such profound pressures and changes, it is more important than ever for those of us steeped in this cultural tradition to continue to foster its love and exposure. I hope that my readers can find value, no matter how modest, in what I offer here.


Bryan Geyer, Technical Analyst

I initially embraced classical music in 1954 when I mistuned my car radio and heard the Heifetz recording of Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto. That inspired me to board the new "hi-fi" DIY bandwagon. In 1957 I joined one of the pioneer semiconductor makers and spent the next 32 years marketing transistors and microcircuits to military contractors. Home audio DIY projects remained a personal passion until 1989 when we created our own new photography equipment company. I later (2012) revived my interest in two channel audio when we "downsized" our life and determined that mini-monitors + paired subwoofers were a great way to mate fine music with the space constraints of condo living.

Visitors that view my technical papers on this site may wonder why they appear here, rather than on a site that features audio equipment reviews. My reason is that I tried the latter, and prefer to publish for people who actually want to listen to music; not to equipment. My focus is in describing what's technically beneficial to assure that the sound of the system will accurately replicate the source input signal (i. e. exhibit high accuracy) without inordinate cost and complexity. Conversely, most of the audiophiles of today strive to achieve sound that's euphonic, i.e. be personally satisfying. In essence, audiophiles seek sound that's consistent with their desire; the music is simply a test signal.

Mission Statement

It is the goal of Classical Candor to promote the enjoyment of classical music. Other forms of music come and go--minuets, waltzes, ragtime, blues, jazz, bebop, country-western, rock-'n'-roll, heavy metal, rap, and the rest--but classical music has been around for hundreds of years and will continue to be around for hundreds more. It's no accident that every major city in the world has one or more symphony orchestras.

When I was young, I heard it said that only intellectuals could appreciate classical music, that it required dedicated concentration to appreciate. Nonsense. I'm no intellectual, and I've always loved classical music. Anyone who's ever seen and enjoyed Disney's Fantasia or a Looney Tunes cartoon playing Rossini's William Tell Overture or Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 can attest to the power and joy of classical music, and that's just about everybody.

So, if Classical Candor can expand one's awareness of classical music and bring more joy to one's life, more power to it. It's done its job. --John J. Puccio

Contact Information

Readers with polite, courteous, helpful letters may send them to classicalcandor@gmail.com

Readers with impolite, discourteous, bitchy, whining, complaining, nasty, mean-spirited, unhelpful letters may send them to classicalcandor@recycle.bin.

"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa

"Their Master's Voice" by Michael Sowa