Hourglass: Music by Philip Glass (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross

Simone Dinnerstein, director and pianist; Baroklyn, strings. Naïve V9238

In one of his film reviews, Roger Ebert commented that he judges a movie by what it’s trying to do and how well he thinks it does it. I don’t review every classical music release this way, because I place unequal value on the different things composers and performers try to do. But when tasked with reviewing the music of Philip Glass, I’m faced with special challenges that remind me of Ebert’s quip. The central problem is this: I’m a firm believer in postminimalism, and especially Glass’s brand of it; but I’m awkwardly aware that the standards by which I come down on others’ music don’t apply here. For example, see my February 11th Avril Coleridge-Taylor review. Glass flouts those standards more completely than she does. The difference is that he does so on purpose. I used to sneer at this purpose, much like the haughty critics who still do. But I no longer hate what he does. Indeed, I’m quite won over. If that makes me kind of a hypocrite, so be it. 

 

In minimalism’s early days the emphasis was on subtle changes over extended repetitive structures. Something of that pattern carries over to postminimalism of the 1980s and beyond, but with more commercial appeal and less biting experimentalism. Repetition and commercial appeal aren’t the ingredients formalist critics tend to espouse. But I think we’ve had enough biting experimentalism in classical music during the past century to last us five more. And by now composers have integrated and ‘organicized’ everything under the sun, to cheering generations of pedants who should have been mathematicians instead of music pundits. Can we ever take a break from all of that? My focus is instead on distinctiveness and communicative power. When it comes to those, Glass has much going for him. He composes with the pragmatism of a man who once installed appliances to make ends meet, and who understands the importance of a good paycheck. 

If you’re like the people I’ve just spent two paragraphs scolding, you’ll hate this new disc. It is difficult to think of two works by Glass that more epitomize his style since the 1980s. The score for The Hours is perhaps his best-known film music, deftly coloring the picture’s themes of alienation and tragedy. Here it’s arranged by Michael Riesman for piano, strings, harp, and celesta. In this guise it loses no expressive strength; indeed, it almost seems like an extension of the original that Glass himself might have scored, so often does his postminimalism leverage timbre for its most powerful effects. Nor does one necessarily need to have viewed the film for a meaningful listening experience. Maybe that’s true in order to get the most out of it. But “most” isn’t everything, and that’s what film music scoffers repeatedly fail to understand. When I listen to The Hours score I hear an “end of history” type of world-weariness that surfaces in much of Glass’s music, and that quite transcends the movie itself. He does this better than almost every other living composer I know. Many of us living through the West's turbulent recent decades have confronted the kinds of existential questions this music evokes. We Glass fans hear a singular mixture of reflection, hope, gloom, tragedy, spirituality, and more, where his detractors only hear interminable arpeggios. It’s a unique but highly communicative voice, something that has eluded the likes of Riley, Reich, and even Adams.

 

That same voice animates the second selection. This is not the first recording of the Tirol Concerto (Piano Concerto No. 1), but to my ears it’s the best. The Baroklyn strings’ decision to focus “on the larger beats” and wanting “every voice to have its own ebb and flow, coinciding with other voices in certain larger pulse divisions” (liner notes) pays off for the listener. Compare their sound to the competition — it works to this music’s decided advantage. The feel of large-scale pulsation with each repetition and thematic iteration is crucial to the work’s experience. Rather than feeling exhausted, the sympathetic listener comes through properly appreciating one of Glass’s grandest slow movements. The outer sections of this postmodern masterpiece appreciatively hop and sparkle here, helped by wonderful tunes all the way through. A healthy momentum keeps the music from getting bogged down. The latter must be avoided at all costs — it’s minimalism’s most tender vulnerability.   

 

The title Hourglass is a clever bit of wordplay — Glass becomes hourglass, with a nod toward both The Hours and a nearly 60-minute run time along the way. But it also speaks to ensemble director Simone Dinnerstein's perceptive remarks in her liner notes. "When I think about the music of Philip Glass," she writes, "I think about time. The music is intricate and polyphonic. It's layered, with patterns that keep shifting in the subtlest of ways." It's "multi-linear." Quite so. If you listen carefully, there is definitely more here than initially meets the ear. But I still think that what animates everything is Glass's extraordinary melodic gift. I keep telling people that the history of Western music bears this out with few exceptions: the most successful stuff has good melody. Maybe it doesn't only have that, and maybe good melody isn't the most intellectually compelling component. Yet, this nearly consistent truth relates back to the notion that music must reach the heart and not just the head. So yes, the themes of time, cycles, waves, and pulses all contribute to splendid music and performances here. But all of it would amount to little without an X factor that resists analysis — and that's exactly from where Glass's memorable themes come.

Lavinia Meijer: Winter (CD Review)

 by Karl Nehring

Richter: The Departure; Rachmaninoff: All-Night Vigil, Op. 37: V. Nunc dimittis; Reyer Zwart: Amethyst^a,b; Lambert: As Ballad; Meijer: A Winter Interlude (After Schubert); Meijer: Open Window - Part I | Part II | Part III; Satie: Pièces froides: II. Danses des travers, No. 2 Passer; Nils Frahm: Over There, It's Raining; George Gurdjieff/Thomas de Hartmann: Song of the Fisherwomen; Britten: Corpus Christi Carol; Philip Glass/Foday Musa Suso: The Orchard^c; Ölafur Arnalds: Lag fyrir Ömmu^a; Meijer: Tomorrowday; Glass: ^dFreezing (lyrics by Suzanne Vega). Lavinia Meijer, harp (all tracks); ^aAlma Quartet Amsterdam; ^bReyer Zwart, double bass; ^cNadia Sirota, viola; ^dWishful Singing. Sony Classics 19858868622

I had hoped to have this review posted while it was still officially winter on the calendar; however, I will excuse and console myself by noting that as I write the words on the second full day of spring here in rural central Ohio, the wind chill is currently 33° and the overnight low is forecasted to be 20°, so it might as well still be winter here for all intents and purposes. In that light – the light of winter! – I declare this a timely review indeed. That is certainly not to imply that either the music, the playing, or even the sound quality, for that matter, is on the cold, icy end of the spectrum. Far from it. From start to finish, Winter by the South Korean-born Dutch harpist Lavinia Meijer (b. 1983) is an album that is warmly communicative. Although its title is season-specific, its musical content has variety and depth that transcend any particular season, making it an album that could be enjoyed just as easily during the dog days of summer.

The program opens with a brief piece from the British composer Max Richter, appropriately enough titled The Departure. Richter is something of a minimalist in his approach, and this style of music works well when played on the harp. Next up is a selection from Rachmaninoff, who certainly would never be characterized as a minimalist composer. However, this reduction for harp of a selection from his All-night Vigil works well, allowing the listener to hear both the main melody line as well as the accompaniment. There does seem to be some slight electronic manipulation or enhancement going on, but the effect is subtle and positive. Meijer brings us back to the present with Amethyst by Dutch session bassist and composer Reyer Zwart (b.1971), a yearningly wistful piece in which Meijer’s harp is joined by the sound of strings. Another contemporary composition is As Ballad by the young German pianist Lambert (who always wears a Sardinian mask when playing in concert); here again we seem to have some subtle electronic effects enhancing the sound.

 

Meijer then takes her turn as composer, first on the Schubert-inspired A Winter Interlude, with its pensive melody that does seem to allude to the keyboard works of that ill-fated genius, and then her three-part Open Window, which demonstrates that Meijer has skill and imagination not only as a performer, but as a composer. Each of the three parts has a directness of expression that is appealing and effective. Then it is on to a short (1:29) piece by Satie – not the dreamy Satie of the Gymnopédies, which you might expect on a harp album – but instead, an odd little snippet of a dance. From German composer, performer, and record producer Nils Frahm (b. 1982) comes Over There, It’s Raining. Frahm is known for bridging pop and classical; this piece leans more toward the former over its two minutes. Also clocking in at just over two minutes is the Gurdjieff and de Hartmann collaboration Song of the Fisherwomen, a pleasant tune in more of a folk style. Britten’s Corpus Christi Carol reminds us quite clearly by both title and musical style that we are enjoying an album titled “Winter.” It’s a composition that works perfectly in this arrangement for harp – a highlight of the album. 

Then comes the longest single track (6:55) on the CD, The Orchard by Philip Glass and Gambian musician and composer Foday Musa Suso (b. 1953). It is played here as a quiet, reflective duet between Meijer’s harp and Sirota’s viola, the two instruments plying off against each other in a gentle dialogue. The Alma Quartet returns to join Meijer on the next track, the easygoing Lag fyrir Ömmu by the Icelandic multi-instrumentalist, producer, and compose Ölafur Arnalds (b. 1986), on which Meijer begins, the quartet joins in, and then Meijer drops out, allowing the strings to close out the final measures. Tomorrowday is another composition from Meijer herself, sounding contentedly reflective before closing her album with another piece by Philip Glass, this time with lyrics by Suzanne Vega, sung here by the female vocal quintet Wishful Singing. Oddly enough, those lyrics are not included in the CD booklet; in fact, the booklet contains very little other than basic track information, production credits, and a poem by Ms. Meijer. More information bout the music and artists, or at least a photo or two, would have been welcome. Still, Winter is a splendid release. 

Seasons (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Max Richter: Recomposed by Max Richter: Vivaldi: The Four Seasons; Philip Glass: Violin Concerto No. 2 “The American Four Seasons”. Delirium Musicum. Étienne Gara, violin and artistic director. Warner Classics 5054197401930

Delirium Musicum is a Los Angeles-based chamber orchestra of 21 musicians from nine countries including leader and founder Étienne Gara, a French-born violinist who says, “my aim in creating this group was to foster an artistic expression nourished by both diversity and the buzz of artists thirsting for uncompromising creativity and unbound musical interpretation.” There have been umpteen bazillion recordings of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons released over the years; it is often one of the first compositions first to capture the attention of listeners who are otherwise unfamiliar with classical music. Moreover, its melodies are familiar even to many people who are otherwise unfamiliar with classical music, so widely has it been played on various media. What Delirium Musicum have chosen to give us on their first recording are two compositions by composers of our time that build upon the foundation of Vivaldi’s composition: a “recomposition” by the German-born British composer Max Richter (b. 1966) and an “American version” by the American composer Philip Glass (b. 1937). 

 

The Richter is a work we have looked at before, when John Puccio reviewed a recording back in 2014 (you can read John's review here) and then again in 2022 when I reviewed another recording, this time featuring the Chineke! Orchestra playing on gut strings and Richter (pictured left) playing a vintage Moog synthesizer in what amounted to a different take on period instrument performance practice (you can find that review here). The Glass, on the other hand, is a work that has not yet been reviewed in Classical Candor although there have been previous recordings of the piece. Both Seasons radiate energy and enthusiasm as the musicians of Delirium Musicum play with both passion and precision. In the Richter, the synthesizer is blended in more seamlessly than in the version the composer himself recorded with Chineke!, the end result sounding more naturally flowing – Vivaldi’s Four Seasons reimagined for the 21^st century. It’s delightful! 

 

Glass’s Violin Concerto No. 2, subtitled “An American Four Seasons,” was originally composed in 2008 and dedicated to violinist Robert MacDuffie, who gave the work its premier. It’s an unusually constructed concerto, with four movements rather than the typical three. Yes, you’d expect four movement for “An American Four Seasons,” but no, Glass (pictured right) did not give them titles, instead he just numbered them I-IV. More unusual than having four movements are the four small solo pieces that Glass composed in lieu of a cadenza. There is a Prologue before Movement I, and then each of the final three movements is preceded by a solo violin piece that Glass calls a Song. These songs serve as interludes of reflection rather than frenzied virtuoso showpieces for the violin soloist. The four movements themselves vary in tempo and mood but share the Glass trademark of a repetitive pulse underlying the melody of the soloist above. The overall effect is compelling, none of the movements overstaying its welcome as Glass continually varies the line. Personally, I’ve never been convinced by his symphonies, but this concerto, perhaps because of the smaller forces involved, the number of varied smaller movements, not to mention the sheer energy and enthusiasm of these young musicians – at any rate, this concerto is remarkably entertaining (and, like the Richter piece, great music to enjoy while driving).

The liner notes by Gara are a bit over the top; it would have been good to have some more background on the music along with more information about the group beyond just a listing of their names. The engineering is clean and clear, although mixed in such a way to sound more immersive for headphone/earbud/car stereo listening rather than sound like musicians in a hall through loudspeakers in your listening room. Overall, though, Seasons is good, clean, recommendable twenty-first century musical fun for any season. 

 

Recent Releases No. 66 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring 

Amazônia. Villa-Lobos: Suite Floresta de Amazonas; Glass: Metamorphosis I (from Aguas da Amazonia). Camila Provenzale, soprano; Philharmonia Zürich; Simone Menezes, conductor. Alpha Classics ALPHA 990

This release pairs two works infused with the energy and exotic sounds and colors of the Amazonian jungle, brought to you courtesy of the creative imaginations of two composers of different times and hemispheres, the Brazilian Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887-1959) and the American Philip Glass (b. 1937). Villa-Lobos wrote this music in 1958, late in his career, originally conceiving it as “a symphonic poem, a long, abstract narration that nevertheless stimulates visual echoes,” according to the CD booklet essay, which goes on the explain that the music was intended to accompany a film titled Green Mansions. Not surprisingly, the film’s producers brought in a team of Hollywood arrangers who effectively destroyed Villa-Lobos’s music. As a result, “Villa-Lobos took back his music, and made an independent concert work out of it, increasing the role of the chorus and solo voice in order to create an immense oratorio to texts by the poet Dora Vasconcelos.” What we have on this recording is not the “immense oratorio,” however; rather, conductor Simone Menezes has gone through the original score and constructed an orchestral suite in 11 movements for soprano and orchestra. It lasts about 45 minutes and is exuberant and powerful, with rich harmonies and energetic rhythms. Soprano Camilo Provenzale has a richly powerful voice with a tonal color that seems just right for this music.

In her CD booklet essay, Menezes explains that Metamorphosis I “is part of his Aguas da Amazonia, originally composed for the Brazilian group Uakti… It was orchestrated in 2017 by Charles Coleman.  Metamorphosis takes a minimalist, poetic look at the waters traversing the Amazonian forest, a journey by boat along the Amazon, marked by diverse rhythmical pulses… The rhythms become more dominant and more varied, and the tension gradually mounts up until the final sigh of relief when then destination is reached.” This is a shorter work than the Villa-Lobos, running 12:55 here and 12:35 on the Uakti recording. As those familiar with Glass  might expect, the music has an underlying pulse, a repetitive phrasing that underlies the music, much in the way that the river underlies that boat that rides upon it. Those that enjoy Glass will enjoy it, those that hate Glass will hate it. Personally, I enjoy the Uakti version much more – it simply has a more colorful sonic palette. That is not to say I am one of the Glass-haters – although neither am I a die-hard fan (except of his piano music). And in his defense, I must point out that he did not write piece this for orchestra; instead, it was orchestrated by someone else. Glass’s original version as performed by Uakti sounds much different – much more vibrant and involving.

The engineering is excellent. The booklet includes some notes on the music, biographical information about the musicians,  texts for the Villa-Lobos lyrics, and some striking B&W photographs of the Amazon. Overall, this is another of those recordings of music a bit off the beaten path but certainly well worth an audition by those looking to expand their musical field of vision.

 

Rachmaninov: Symphony No. 1 in D minor, Op. 13; Prince Rostislav; Symphonic Poem after Aleksey Tolstoy. St. Louis Symphony Orchestra; Leonard Slatkin, conductor. Vox Audiophile Edition VOX-NX-3029CD

 

Rachmaninov: Symphony No. 3 in A minor, Op. 44; Symphony in D minor “Youth”; The Rock, Op. 7. St. Louis Symphony Orchestra; Leonard Slatkin, conductor. Vox Audiophile Edition VOX-NX-3028CD

 

How gratifying it is to see Naxos completing its release of conductor Leonard Slatkin’s traversal of Rachmaninoff’s (that’s the currently accepted English spelling) three symphonies, which he recorded for the budget Vox label back in the mid-1970s with the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra. We reviewed the first of these recordings to be released back in February, 2023, a release that contained Symphony No. 2 along with the haunting Vocalise (you can read that review here). Most classical music lovers of a certain age are no doubt familiar with Vox, a budget label that produced some real gems over the years. Even though Vox was a budget label, the sound quality on some of their releases could be excellent, especially those recorded by the production team at Elite Recordings, led by engineer Marc Aubort and producer Joanna Nickrenz. There is an article at the PS Audio website discussing the fine-sounding Ravel box set Vox released in the 1970s that provides some insight into Elite’s recording process, which you can find here. The main sonic drawback back in the LP days of yore was the often substandard quality of Vox’s vinyl pressings). But in the past few years, there have been some significant advances in digital technology, allowing the good folks at Naxos (who now own the rights to the Vox treasure trove) the opportunity to give us truly elite versions of the Elite recordings.

 

Appearing on the back cover of these new “Vox Audiophile Edition” versions is a highlighted statement affirming that “The Elite recordings for Vox legendary producers Marc Aubort and Joanna Nickrenz are considered by audiophiles to be among the finest sounding orchestral recordings.” For these reissues, Naxos engineers have taken those tapes from the vaults and carefully prepared these CDs for release, the end product of their labors being what they describe as “new192 kHz / 24-bit high definition transfers of the original Elite Recordings analogue master tapes.” Of course, all that work would not mean much if the performances captured by Aubort and Nickrenz were no great shakes to begin with; however, these Rachmaninoff recordings by Maestro Slatkin and the SLSO were excellent when they were released and they are excellent now. Earlier this year, we reviewed their recording of the Rachmaninoff Symphony No. 2(you can read that review here). These new recordings exhibit the same virtues: confident, expressive playing from the SLSO under Slatkin’s leadership captured in transparent, dynamic sound that captures the sense of an orchestra playing in a hall. There are many excellent versions of these symphonies on the market; in fact, Slatkin himself later recorded an excellent set with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. Still, these are excellent performances, excellently recorded, making them eminently recommendable for fans of these gorgeously tuneful symphonies.

Recent Releases No. 56 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

Zygmunt Noskowski: Symphony No. 1 in A major; Symphony No. 2 in C minor, “Elegiac.” Deutsche Staatsphilharmonie Rheinland-Pfalz; Antoni Wit, conductor. Capriccio C5509.

Once again we have the exquisite pleasure of discovering worthwhile music by a composer whose name had been completely unknown to us (and probably many other music lovers) until now. It turns out that the relatively unknown Polish composer Zygmunt Noskowski (1846-1909) was a teacher of Szymanowski and student of Moniuszko, and for much of the 19th century was the primary exponent of contemporary symphonic music in Poland. In fact, Noskowski is considered to be one of the most significant Polish composers of the nineteenth century, one who produced successful output in nearly all musical genres: ballet, opera, sacred works, symphonies, symphonic poems, and smaller works (including works for children), especially for piano. As if that was not enough to occupy his time, he also pursued a parallel career as a music critic and journalist. 

 

As a conductor and concert organizer, Noskowski (left) championed the causes of forgotten Polish composers. Today, in a fitting turn of events, conductor Antoni Wit (with a distinguished recorded legacy of his own), who in fact  succeeded Noskowski at the helm of the Warsaw Philharmonic 94 years after Noskowski’s retirement, raises the profile of his late-Romantic colleague with this recording of his first two symphonies. So what do they sound like? Actually, they are quite enjoyable; in my own clumsy, inadequate way, I would describe them as sounding something like Schumann, but better orchestrated, richer in texture, and more satisfying both musically and emotionally.  Listening to them, I found myself surprised that I had never heard them before – and I am hardly a young man. This is music that deserves to be heard by a composer who certainly deserves to be heard. To that end, I give this new release my most enthusiastic recommendation.

 

The Blue Album. Satie: Gymnopédie No. 1; Couperin: Les baricades mistérieuses (from Pièces de clavecin II: Ordre 6ème in B flat); Glass: Orphée's Bedroom; Brouwer: Canción de Cuna; Debussy: Suite bergamasque - Clair de lune (arr. for guitar by Eduardo Sáinz de la Maza); Weiss: Passacaille; Satie: Gnossienne No. 1 (arr. for Guitar by Pedro Henriques da Silva); Scarlatti: Keyboard Sonata K32 in D minor (transcr. for guitar); Sor: Etude for guitar, Op. 6, No. 11 in E minor; Max Richter: A Catalogue of Afternoons; Debussy: La fille aux cheveux de lin (from Préludes - Book 1: No. 8); Yradier: La Paloma (arr. for guitar by Francisco Tárrega); Myers: Cavatina (from The Deerhunter, arr. for guitar by John Williams); Sakamoto: Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence. Pablo Sainz-Villegas, guitar. Sony Classical 19658779092

 

The Spanish classical guitarist Pablo Sainz-Villegas (b. 1977) writes in the liner notes for The Blue Album that it “brings together some of the most beautiful and most heartfelt melodies that have ever been written. All these pieces create a magical atmosphere, their colours create a mood, a mystery. The guitar whispers an invitation to the listener to explore and go to the most intimate part of your soul. It creates a moment to look inside and have a conversation with the essence of yourself.” Now, that might strike some music lovers as a bit over the top, at least in terms of the feel-good pop psychology flavor of the prose, but all I can say is that Sainz-Villegas has pulled together a remarkable program of music by composers from different eras and countries, music that is soothing but not saccharine. From music by composers you might expect to find given the guitarist’s description, such as the pieces by French composers Debussy and Satie (you can watch a video of him playing Satie here), there is also music ranging from long-ago composers such as Couperin and Scarlatti to contemporary composers such as Philp Glass and Max Richter. As Sainz-Villegas puts it, “The Blue Album is a collection of musical works from different periods, composers and aesthetics that coexist and talk to each other in a space of calm and peace.” Listening to the album does indeed bring to the listener a sense of calm and peace. But there is real musical substance here, not New Age strumming. This is serious music: seriously performed and seriously recommended.  

New Releases, No. 34 (CD reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Mosaic
Debussy: Beau Soir (transcr. J. Heifitz); Première Rhapsodie; Tárrega: Recuerdo de la Alhambra (transcr. R. Ricci); Ravel: Pavane pour une infante défunte (transcr. V. Borisovsky); Vocalise-étude en forme de Habanera; Fauré: Élégie in C Minor, Op. 24; Papillon, Op. 77; Berceuse, Op. 16 (transcr. T. Butorac); Après un rêve, Op. 7, No. 1 (transcr. P. Cassals); Albéniz: Tango in D Major, Op. 165, No. 2; Akira Nishimura: Fantasia on Song of the Birds; Pablo Casals: El Cant dels Ocells (Song of the Birds); de Falla: Siete canciones populares españolas (transcr. E. Cólon) - I. El Paño Moruno; II. Seguidilla Murciana; III. Asturiana; IV. Jota; V. Nana; VI. Canción; VII. Polo. Wenting Kang, viola; Sergei Kvitko, piano. Blue Griffin BGR 609.

It's always exciting to get a new release and discover a composer you’ve never heard before. This new release, Mosaic, brought that same feeling of delightful discovery, but this time not because of a new composer, but rather because of a performer. Granted, many of the new releases that I audition feature performers whose names are new to me; however, there just seems to be something special about the Chinese-born violist Wenting Kang (b. 1987), who has pulled together a captivatingly colorful and lively program of music that she has chosen to play so expressively on the viola, not the instrument for which they were originally written. As you can see from a glance through the titles above, the bulk of her program comes from French and Spanish composers of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, who, as she points out in her liner note essay, “not only had a strong impact on each other’s work, but they were also very connected in their personal lives. Some of them were professor and student, such as Faure and Ravel. Others were close friends and colleagues, such as Fauré and Albeniz, Ravel and Falla, Tarrega and Casals and Falla, and more. As I enjoyed discovering these connections between the works and composers, I also found the modern composition of Akira Nishimura – ‘Fantasia on Song of the Birds,’ which was inspired by the Catalan folk song ‘El Cant dels Ocells’ – and I felt it ought to be included as a beautifully expressive reflection in the more contemporary musical language, and would be a wonderful counterpart to Casals’ piece with the same title.”

From start to finish, Kang and Kvitko – who, in addition to playing the piano, also served as recording engineer and producer for this release, an impressively talented individual to be sure! – bring heartfelt expression to this lyrical collection, with the rich tone of the viola sounding “just right” for these pieces. Please understand what I mean when I say that Mosaic is not just another violin recital, which it obviously isn’t. What it is is something very special indeed.  

L'Aurore
Hildegard von Bingen: Spiritus sanctus vivificans vita; Enescu: Fantaisie concertante; Benjamin: Three Miniatures; Ysaÿe: Sonata No. 5 in G major op. 27; Bach: Partita No. 2 in D minor BWV 1004. Carolin Widmann, violin. ECM New Series 2709 485 6803.

German violinist Carolin Widmann (b. 1976) has primarily been known as a specialist in modern music, but in her new album for the ECM New Series label she begins with music from long ago, music not originally written for the violin. The liner booklet contains an interview in which she answers question about the compositions that appear on that album, and of the opening piece attributed to the twelfth-century nun, Hildegard von Bingen, Widmann responds: “I wanted to show what the violin is capable of with this compilation of works, and in order to do so I went all the way back to the beginnings. Where does our music come from, where does the musical language come from? To me, Hildegard seemed the earliest thing that could be played on the violin, and I find her music to be very touching. I was particularly taken with this antiphon. During the recordings, we discovered that I play it differently each time. That’s why the piece appears twice, like a kind of ritual. It is played at the beginning and then before Bach’s Partita, which rounds everything off.”  Following the Bingen is a work by Enescu from 1932, a much more modern-sounding piece that really allows Widmann to show what her violin is capable of doing – but do not fear, it is not dissonant or shrill, it is rather a marvel of intense musical expression. Following the Enescu are three short miniatures by George Benjamin that he composed in 2002, each lasting less than three minutes, each allowing Widmann to demonstrate a different aspect of her technique. The Ysaÿe sonata is, as might be expected from that virtuoso violinist/composer, more of a virtuoso piece, but as Widmann points out, does not include a “virtuoso fast movement” as do some of his other sonatas. There are two movements here, complex enough to allow Widmann to highlight her technique without ever resorting to sheer breakneck speed. Then after a reprise of Hildegard’s music, Widmann closes with Bach: “It was a great concern of mine to finally record this Partita. I waited and waited with it and worked on it for years. Now I felt: the time is ripe and I have enough experience with the piece. Maybe in five years I’ll play it differently again, but in its present form it’s a mirror of my current life and artistic experiences.”

As I listened to her performance of the Bach, there seemed to be a certain lightness to her touch, a purity to her tone, and an extra measure of joy coming through her interpretation. Yes, this is an entirely subjective judgment on my part; perhaps others might feel differently, although it would be hard for me to imagine that anyone would find her playing heavy-handed or her interpretation dour. For those with a love for the violin, this recording is well worth seeking out both for its sound and its musical merits. It is an unalloyed delight in both respects.

Philip Glass: Symphony No. 12 “Lodger”
(from lyrics by David Bowie and Brian Eno). Angélique Kidjo, voice; Christian Schmitt, organ; Dennis Russell Davies, Filharmonie Brno. Orange Mountain Music OMM 0159.

Long-time fans of Philip Glass might be aware that this is not the first time that he has based a symphony on an album by the late English rock icon David Bowie. As conductor Dennis Russell Davies tells the story, “Philip was in his early fifties when we began discussing the idea of composing a symphony… Most of his instrumental music to date, with elements of improvisation, were created for the Philip Glass Ensemble, but I was eager to win Philip’s growing young audience for classical symphonic concerts. Around this time an idea was developing to have Philip write a piece based on music by David Bowie and Brian Eno, which Philp then transformed in to a three-movement symphony, his first, called “Low.” Of course he later returned to his special collaboration with Bowie and Eno with his fourth symphony “Heroes.”  Low, Heroes, and Lodger were albums that Bowie recorded in Berlin in the late 1970s with the help of Brian Eno and are known to Bowie fans as the “Berlin albums.”

Although Glass’s first two symphonies based on Bowie’s Berlin albums are purely orchestral, his Symphony No. 12 is a vocal symphony consisting of seven movements. The first is a brief (2:42) movement for the orchestra and organ, while the remaining six all feature singing by Benin-born world music singer Angélique Kidjo with orchestral accompaniment. The sound of the organ intertwined with the orchestra – and sometimes playing on its own – makes for some interesting sonic textures; Glass has moved beyond simple minimalism to produce some genuinely colorful and involving music. Kidjo’s voice, on the other hand, is at once shouty and flat-sounding. She sounds neither like a rock singer nor an opera singer. The lyrics, which are printed in the CD booklet, are of course clearly intended to be sung by a man; hearing them sung by a woman is a bit, well, I’ll just leave it at that. (As a side note, there are a couple of photos in the CD booklet apparently taken at a concert performance of this symphony – the liner notes state that the recording was made in the studio between a pair of live performances – in which Ms. Kidjo is singing into a microphone, which seems a bit surprising.)

To be honest, it is just not clear who this release is aimed at. Classical music lovers who were open-minded enough to enjoy Glass’s first two Bowie-derived symphonies are most likely going to be put off by the vocals, and it is hard to imagine very many fans of the late Thin White Duke suddenly deciding they want to hear this symphonic release. But, hey, I’ve been wrong before…

KWN

Third Coast Percussion: Perspectives (CD review)

Music by Elfman, Glass, Jlin, and Flutronix. Third Coast Percussion. Cedille Records CDR 90000 210.

By John J. Puccio

To say there isn’t an abundance of purely classical percussion recordings around might be an understatement. Perhaps it seems odd, given that every classical orchestra has a percussion section, that the percussion should not have as much day in the sun as the violin and the piano have enjoyed. Maybe it’s because percussive instruments don’t make as persuasively plush, mellifluous sounds as violins and pianos. I mean, you can’t really wax too very lyrical on a drum. Anyway, such paucity of percussive recordings makes this new album from Third Coast Percussion all the more appealing. The players are quite good, and the four selections they chose for the program are all world-premiere recordings.

First, a word about the group. From their Web site we learn that Third Coast Percussion was founded in 2005 and “has performed hundreds of concerts across the country, presents an annual concert season at home in Chicago, teaches musicians of all ages and experience levels, and has commissioned dozens of new works by composers including Glenn Kotche, Philip Glass, Devonté Hynes, Chris Cerrone, Augusta Read Thomas, Donnacha Dennehy, and David T. Little.

“The mission of Third Coast Percussion is to inspire and educate through the creation of exciting and unexpected musical experiences. Third Coast Percussion's vision is a worldwide audience that embraces creativity, curiosity, and community through music. The ensemble has forged a unique path in the musical landscape with virtuosic, energetic performances that celebrate the extraordinary depth and breadth of musical possibilities in the world of percussion. The ensemble has been praised for “commandingly elegant” (New York Times) performances, the ‘rare power’ (Washington Post) of their recordings, and ‘an inspirational sense of fun and curiosity’ (Minnesota Star-Tribune). The four members of Third Coast are also accomplished teachers, and currently serve as ensemble-in-residence at Denison University.”

The ensemble includes David Skidmore, an Ensemble Member and Executive Director of the group. As a chamber musician, David has performed at Carnegie Hall, the Lincoln Center Festival, Kimmel Center, and many other leading venues. He was a member of the Pittsburgh New Music Ensemble from 2007-2011 and Ensemble ACJW from 2008-2010. He has performed and collaborated with many of the world's finest musicians including conductors Pierre Boulez, Lorin Maazel, David Robertson, and Michael Tilson Thomas, composers Steve Reich, Steve Mackey, Matthias Pintscher, and Peter Eötvos, and chamber ensembles Eighth Blackbird and Ensemble Signal. David has performed as a soloist in Europe, Asia, and the United States. He has also performed as a member of the Lucerne Festival Academy, the Civic Orchestra of Chicago, the Pacific Music Festival, and the National Repertory Orchestra.

Robert Dillon is an Ensemble Member and Development Director of the group. He has performed with the Chicago, Boston, and San Diego Symphony Orchestras, and served as principal percussionist in the Madison Symphony Orchestra from 2007-2008. He previously served as chair of percussion studies at Merit School of Music and a percussion instructor at Loyola University Chicago.

Peter Martin is an Ensemble Member and Finance Director of the group. As a chamber musician, he has performed with many leading new music ensembles including the International Contemporary Ensemble (ICE), Eighth Blackbird, the Pittsburgh New Music Ensemble, the Atlantic Chamber Ensemble, and many more. In addition to his work with Third Coast Percussion, Peter is a member of the award-winning contemporary music group Ensemble Dal Niente.

The fourth member of the group, Sean Connors, is an Ensemble Member and their Technical Director. He has performed with Amphion Percussion, the Pittsburgh New Music Ensemble, Eighth Blackbird, the International Contemporary Ensemble, Signal, and Metropolis Ensemble, and he was the percussionist for two summers with the prestigious Aspen Music Festival Contemporary Ensemble. As an educator, Sean served for two years as assistant professor of percussion at the University of Wisconsin - Stevens Point.

Yes, they are good. Very, very good.

So, the first selection on the program is the Percussion Quartet by American composer Danny Elfman (b. 1953). Although Elfman is primarily known these days as a film composer (Batman, Darkman, Spider-Man, Men in Black, and the like), he has also written a number of concert and stage pieces. But he’s done only one percussion work so far, and it’s surprisingly traditional, written in four fairly symphonic movements. It’s also among the more accessible works on the disc, which is probably why the producers chose to put it first. The fusion of instruments in the music is such that one quickly forgets there are only four people involved and that they are playing solely in the percussion medium. I quipped earlier that one can hardly wax lyrical on a drum, but in the second, slow movement, that’s exactly what the players do. The whole piece is really quite beautiful and expertly handled.

The next piece is by the well-known American composer and pianist Philip Glass (b. 1937). It’s the briefest selection on the album at about nine minutes, and it is Metamorphosis No. 1. He based it on his original solo piano version, and Third Coast Percusssion perform it on marimba, vibraphone, glockenspiel, and melodica. Frankly, it sounds to me much richer and mellower on the percussion instruments than it does on the piano. I found it far more attractive in its new trappings than ever before, more varied, more mellifluous, more rhythmically dynamic, simply more appealing. And I can’t imagine it being done any better than by Third Coast Percussion.

Next on the agenda is the longest work, Perspective, in seven movements by American electronic musician Jlin (Jerrilyn Patton, b. 1987). It is remarkably varied in its rhythms and nuances and provides endless opportunities for the percussive instruments to express themselves. It’s also perhaps closer to what most of us would expect to hear from a percussion group. It has a certain exotic quality to it, some of it sounding like music of the South Seas or Asian Pacific, while other parts demonstrate a quiet dissonance. All of it, however, is rather Romantic in nature, with nothing discordant enough to jar our senses. Remarkably, too, this is the first recording I can remember that produced musical notes a good three feet or more outside the main speakers. It was as though I had additional speakers on the side walls, given the surround sound I heard. It was a little eerie, actually, but quite pleasant.

The final item is called Rubix, a collaboration by Third Coast Percussion and Flutronix (Nathalie Joachim and Allison Loggins-Hull, both of whom are reaching out from their classical roots). The music is elegant and colorful, and the precision of the players contributes to an overall sense of tasteful grace. It makes a fitting conclusion to an album of perfectly harmonious charm. What I thought might be a cacophonous disc of tumultuous noise turned out to be a calming and relaxing respite, I loved it.

Producers Elain Martone, Colin Campbell, and Danny Elfman and engineers Bill Maylone, Dan Nichols, and Jonathan Lackey recorded the music at Chicago Recording Company in October 2020. As we would expect from Cedille, who always produce good-sounding discs, this one, with its small ensemble of percussion instruments, sounds terrific. It’s done fairly close up, so each instrument is clearly delineated, and with the addition of some mild room resonance, the result is both realistic and satisfying.

JJP

Simone Dinnerstein: Undersong (CD review)

Piano music by Couperin, Schumann, Glass, and Satie. Simone Dinnerstein, piano. Orange Mountain Music 0156.

By John J. Puccio and Karl W. Nehring

The music according to John:

As you probably know, American classical pianist Simone Dinnerstein loves to do theme albums. The titles alone give you the idea: An American Mosaic, A Character of Quiet, Bach: Strange Beauty, Mozart in Havana, Something Almost Being Said, Night, Bach Re-Invented, Broadway - Lafayette, and now Undersong. Of course, she has done more traditional albums as well, like Bach’s Goldberg Variations and Inventions and Sinfonias, and Beethoven’s Complete Works for Piano and Cello (with cellist Zuill Bailey). But lately, as her name and fame have grown, she has increasingly pursued theme albums.

Undersong is a term I was unfamiliar with, so I looked it up. The Free Dictionary calls it “an accompanying secondary melody”; or “a nuanced meaning.” Merriam-Webster says it’s “a subordinate melody or part; especially, a droning accompaniment or undertone. A refrain.” Ms. Dinnerstein apparently goes with “refrain.” As she says, “Couperin, Schumann, Glass, and Satie constantly revisit the same material, worrying at, shifting it to different harmonies and into different rhythmic shapes. Working with this music in the fall of 2020 was a constant reminder that in my afternoon walk in the Green-wood Cemetery, I was quite literally treading a familiar path every day, a path that nonetheless had changed almost imperceptibly every time I left the house.” Thus, we have the shifting, sometimes hidden texts of these musical pieces with refrains. The whole idea may seem a bit morose (starting with Ms. Dinnerstein’s black-and-white cover photo surrounded by tombstones and looking for all the world like Morticia Addams), but, then, the whole pandemic has been a pretty morose experience.

Nevertheless, whether or not you buy into the slightly murky spirit of the “undersong” business, you can’t deny that Ms. Dinnerstein’s handling of the material is thoughtful, emotional yet restrained, and unfailingly sensitive. Thus informed, we begin with Les Barricades Mysterieuses (“The Mysterious Barricades”) that the French Baroque composer Francois Couperin wrote in 1717. Like its title, the music is evocative, and Ms. Dinnerstein makes the most of it.

Next is an equally famous piece, Arabesque, Op. 18, written by Robert Schumann in 1839. The composer wrote it during a particularly stormy period of his life during which his future wife Clara’s father wanted no part of him as a son-in-law. The music reflects these turbulent yet tender times, and Ms. Dinnerstein adds her own affectionate touch and occasional barb.

Philip Glass comes after that with his solo piano work, Mad Rush (1979). Ms. Dinnerstein describes the music of the disc as the kind to get lost in, and that’s no better expressed than in the Glass piece. It’s kind of looking-glass music (pun intended) with ripples and reflections of all sorts. Ms. Dinnerstein’s gentle yet firm approach has us drifting through a kaleidoscope of musical colors.

Then we get more from Couperin, Tic Toc Choc, a whimsical representation of the rhythms of a clock. Given its eighteenth-century origins, the piece sounds surprisingly modern in Ms. Dinnerstein’s hands.

Then, there’s Gnossienne No. 3 by French composer Erik Satie (1888). “Gnossienne” was a word Satie invented, probably to remind listeners of “gnostic” or spiritual knowledge or maybe of “gnossus” from ancient Crete. Whatever, it is intensely mystical and contemplative.

The program’s penultimate work is the longest, Schumann’s Kreisleriana, a selection of eight movements for solo piano (1838). Schumann regarded it as his favorite work. Here, Ms. Dinnerstein lets her hair down, so to speak, pursuing the sometimes tempestuous, sometimes tranquil segments with equally warmhearted vigor.

Ms. Dinnerstein concludes the disc, appropriately, with a refrain: Couperin’s Les Barricades Redux.

Adam Abeshouse produced and engineered the album, which he recorded in Ms. Dinnerstein’s home in Brooklyn, NY in November 2020. The piano, recorded somewhat closely, sounds honeyed and mellow, with a warm, rich quality that greatly complements the music. Then, too, a mildly resonant acoustic also contributes to the disc’s pleasures.

JJP

The music according to Karl:

American pianist Simone Dinnerstein (b. 1972) first came to my attention and to the attention of many, many others, as it would soon turn out back in 2007 when her recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations was released on the Telarc label. It was a splendid recording for which I wrote an enthusiastic review in The $ensible Sound. The album shot to the top of Billboard’s classical CD best-sellers list. I’d love to say that its success was in part attributable to my review, but I have every confidence that the good readers of Classical Candor are nowhere near so gullible as to believe such blatant blather. Fast-forward 15 years and I find myself once again reviewing a recording by Ms. Dinnerstein, who has been busy during the pandemic, as Undersong is her third made during this trying time. Isolation can have some compensations for those prepared to make the best of their particular talents and opportunities, and Ms. Dinnerstein has certainly used her talents and opportunities to produce another splendid recording. In her brief liner note, she writes that “all of the music on this album consists of musical forms that have a refrain. Glass, Schumann, Couperin, and Satie constantly revisit the same material in these pieces, shifting it to different harmonies and into different rhythmic shapes. Undersong is an archaic term for a song with a refrain, and to me it also suggests a hidden text. Glass, Schumann, Couperin and Satie all seem to be attempting to find what they want to say through repetition, as though their constant change and recycling will focus the ear and the mind. This is music to get lost in.” She goes on to compare that repetition to her daily afternoon walk through Green-wood Cemetery in Brooklyn, where she treads the same path day after day (the B&W cover photo features her posing there on the cemetery path).

Despite that talk of solitary cemetery strolls, the music she has chosen is not morose. The piece by Francois Couperin that opens and closes the album is ruminative, though. Indeed, it would seem that framing the album this way is evidence of a deft artistic touch, the pianist’s way of communicating that she intending her program to be understood as a framed musical composition that she has put together purposefully, beginning and ending a musical journey with something on her mind. Besides, Les Barricades Mysterieuses is an entrancing composition, well worth hearing played twice, ever so slightly slowly to finish the program. Between those opening and closing tunes, there is a varied program that spans the centuries. Following the opening Couperin, Schumann’s Arabesque seems somehow to sustain a  similar feeling despite being dissimilar in style. The pace then picks up as Dinnerstein leans into the pulsing rhythms of Philip Glass’s Mad Rush. I know there are some who are wary of anything by Glass, but to my ears at least, his piano music represents some of the best of his output, and Mad Rush is an excellent piece that sounds perfectly placed in this program. After a brief bon-bon from Couperin, we then come to the longest composition, taking up more than half the time on the CD, Schumann’s Kreisleriana, which consists of eight sections. The music and the mood here are certainly different from the Glass, the Satie, or even the other Schumann, but I quibble. Others may find it more perfectly blended in than did I. My only other quibble is with the liner notes, which are quite brief. It would have been rewarding to have some more insight from Ms. Dinnerstein as to how she came to choose the particular composers and compositions and why she presented them in the order she chose for her program. Still, when you come down to it, this is a really nice release, with a well-played, well-recorded, and thoughtfully chosen program -- music to get lost in.

KWN

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

Recent Releases, No. 13 (CD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Muhly & Glass: First Light. Muhly: Shrink (Concerto for Violin and Strings); Glass: The Orchard (from The Screens); String Quartet No. 3, “Mishima” (arr, for string orchestra by Pekka Kuusisto). Nico Muhly, piano; Pekka Kuusisto, violin and director, Norwegian Chamber Orchestra. Pentatone PTC 5186 745.

This is a recording that features a considerable degree of both musical and performative intertwining. The relatively young American composer Nico Muhly (b. 1981), the veteran American composer Philip Glass (b.1937) composer, and Finnish violinist and conductor Pekka Kuusisto (b.1976) are all linked closely together. As Kuusisto explains, “my consort with Nico Muhly began around 2010… I had previously become aware of his reputation as a creator and with an extraordinary touch, and was really excited to work with him. Thew experience was inspiring, moving and joyous, and we’ve enjoyed a steady flow of adventures since. The arrival of Shrink in late 2019 was the culmination of this decade of music and mischief… Philip Glass had been present in our interactions since the beginning. He and Nico go way back as colleagues… Against this background, coupling Shrink with a new arrangement of Philip Glass’ Mishima quartet seems appropriate… The pandemic-era, long-distance recording of Philip Glass’ The Orchard is an expression of gratitude to Philip on behalf of myself and Nico, and to the Norwegian Chamber Orchestra for their stellar work with us.” Although Muhly and Glass were colleagues, their music is markedly different in character, which leads to a recording with something of a split personality. Muhly’s Shrink is an energetic, driven concerto, played with intensity by Kuusisto on violin. Although not dissonant in character, it is not a piece that lingers over lilting melodies. Then comes Glass’s The Orchard, performed here as a duet for piano and violin, and the mood completely changes, becoming soothing and almost therapeutic. Following the frenetic forward motion of Shrink, to arrive in such a pleasant, peaceful, musical grove is a refreshing respite. The arrangement for string orchestra of Glass’s String Quartet No. 3, “Mishima” that closes the program adds some weight and texture to Glass’s minimalist creation. With excellent engineering and informative liner notes, this is a solid release of contemporary music from Pentatone.
 
Robert Ames: Change Ringing. Peal; Change Ringing; Tympanum; Dispersion; Cinque; Rounds. Modern Recordings LC95306.

Robert Ames (b. 1985) is the co-founder and co-conductor of the London Contemporary Orchestra, where he has worked to bridge the perceived gap between the classical tradition and contemporary music, working with musicians such as Frank Ocean, Jonny Greenwood, Jonsi (of Sigur Ros), Steve Reich, Terry Riley, and Philip Glass. He produced and recorded Change Ringing in his studio using both modern electronic techniques and western traditional annotation, forming layers of audio and written music that he manipulated and transformed into  a sound symphonic in scope, sounding like an amalgam of electronic and symphonic music. According to Ames, “most of the album was written and recorded between April and May 2019 in my small studio in the Peak District. I relied on sounds from my childhood. The echo of choirs and organs in large rooms, distant church bells, grand symphonic gestures crackling through an old car radio and competing with the soft hum and rumble of the wheels on the street and the cacophony of the orchestras slowly setting in. I resisted the temptation to use recognizable tempos and time signatures to convey a sense of timelessness. I like the idea that each track sounds like it's going on a never-ending journey and what's recorded is just a snapshot of something much longer.” Although there are six tracks on the album, they are similar enough in overall sound and mood that the listener can just hit PLAY and listen to the program as though it were one extended symphonic/electronic tone poem. No, this is nothing like electronic dance music (EDM) – there is no pulse or heavy beat moving things along. The music is much more nuanced than that, much more interesting and refined. At just over 34 minutes in length, the quantity of music on this release may leave something to be desired, but for those with adventurous ears, the originality and musical quality to be found in those 34 minutes will prove satisfying indeed.  

Milos: The Moon and the Forest. Jody Talbot: Ink Dark Moon; Ludovico Einaudi: Full Moon (arr. solo guitar by Michael Lewin); Howard Shore: The Forest; Robert Schumann: Traumerei (arr. solo guitar by Michael Lewin). Miloṥ Karadaglić. Guitar; Ben Gernon, BBC Symphony Orchestra; Alexander Shelley, Canada’s National Art’s Center Orchestra. Decca 485 1525.

Classical music lovers who have been longing to find a recording of concertos for guitar and orchestra they can enjoy as wholeheartedly as they have enjoyed recordings of Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez over the years now have reason to rejoice, for this new release by the Montenegro-born guitarist Miloš Karadaglić (b. 1983) should make them very happy indeed. Interestingly enough, in his liner note essay, Miloš writes, “Classical guitar is often wrongly defined by a handful of beautiful pieces. One of the most iconic is Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez. Performing this incredible concerto has taken me to some of the world’s  greatest stages  playing alongside some of the world’s leading orchestras. For many in the audience, this stunning work has been the first and only point of contact with the classical guitar. It is exactly this that inspired me to seek new ideas… I first experienced Jody Talbot’s music at Covent Garden, where his beautiful ballet scores caused a sensation. .. after just a few minutes of listening, I knew I had to meet him. We quickly became friends and, just as quickly, began work on this new concerto. Ink Dark Moon is like a perfect symphony—there is no element of delicacy or virtuosity left untouched… For many years I have been fascinated by Howard Shore’s extraordinarily imaginative soundtracks and classical compositions. The concerto for guitar and orchestra he wrote for me, titled The Forest, is magical – just like the enchanted forest he painted with his unique musical brushstrokes.” By the way, the CD booklet includes not only observations about the music by Miloš, but also some brief remarks from both Shore (b. 1946) and Talbot (b. 1971).  Talbot’s Ink Dark Moon opens quietly on the guitar, the mood of a dark moon being established at the outset. After this quiet intro, the energy level increases, but then the second movement once again lowers the energy level and conveys a sense of brooding introspection. As with most concertos, the finale picks up the energy level, bringing in some percussion to make things more boisterous and lively. The solo piece by Einaudi (b. 1955) is, as you might expect from that composer, beguilingly melodic in nature, serving as a pleasant interlude before we are swept into the magical sounds and rich textures of Shore’s The Forest. The opening movement displays a rich variety of sonic effects without ever sounding forced or artificial, while the second movement is slower, more contemplative, bringing to mind a quiet walk in the forest at twilight. The final movement returns to the more magical sounds of the opening movement, but is a bit darker in tone and texture, evoking a feeling of drama. Then the familiar melody of Schumann’s Traumerei closes out the program – has the enchanting musical program been a dream all along? As for the engineering, yes, the guitar seems a bit large, but I doubt that fans of the instrument are going to mind. All in all, this is a truly rewarding release that should bring a big smile to the faces of fans of the classical guitar  – and a whole bunch of other folks as well.

Bonus Recommendation:
Farrenc: Symphonies Nos. 2 and 3. Christoph König, Solistes Européens, Luxembourg. NAXOS 8.573706.

Once again I have had the pleasure of discovering delightful music by a composer entirely new to me; indeed, I suspect the name of French composer Louise Farrenc (1804-1875) will be new to the vast majority of those reading this review. Her output was not large: three symphonies, some overtures, some chamber works, and some piano music (she was an accomplished pianist but decided to concentrate on composition and teaching rather than performing). Judging from this recording, she was certainly a talented composer. Symphony No. 2 sounds like a hybrid of Mozart and Beethoven, with a slow introduction but then a lively first movement that does not lack for energy or inventiveness. But the real highlight for me is the third movement, a scherzo that is simply a dazzling delight. Remarkable! Symphony No. 3 likewise starts off with a slow introduction leading to an energetic opening movement, but as the symphony unfolds, it proves to be a more lyrical, more expressive, and ultimately even more impressive work than its discmate. There is an interesting – but disheartening – tale told about this work in the liner notes: “The work was relatively well-received at its premiere , and was performed in Brussels in 1847 – indeed, Farrenc’s symphony concerts usually attracted large audiences, partly because of the simple novelty of attending performances of orchestral music by a woman! However, she struggled to persuade Francois-Antoine Habeneck, conductor of the most prominent orchestral series in Paris, to perform her music. It was not until April 1849 that she succeeded in having her new Third Symphony (composed in 1847) performed by the Société dés  Concerts du Conservatoire under Habeneck’s successor, Narcisse Girard. Unfortunately, the decision was taken to programme it alongside Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, which, as even the critics noted, was unfair on the new work; this Beethoven symphony was his most popular and highly regarded work in France at the time.” Geez, Louise… But thanks to this splendid recording, modern listeners can now give these works by Ms. Farrenc an unprejudiced audition and judge for themselves regarding their musical merit. Trust me, this is a CD well worth the time and effort.

KWN

Recent Releases, No. 11 (CD Mini-reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Brahms: Symphony No. 3; Serenade No. 2. Iván Fischer, Budapest Festival Orchestra. Channel Classics CCS SA 43821.

I will say at the outset that this is a truly fine recording and performance of the Brahms symphony and serenade; seriously, if you read any further, you may be left scratching your head and wondering what the heck my problem is. Believe me, good reader, the problem is mine, not yours, nor Channel Classics, nor Maestro Fischer’s (who with the same orchestra has made some dynamite Mahler recordings). In an event, I have rarely been able to find recordings of Brahms symphonies with which I am truly satisfied (that list – a rather short one indeed – consists of Klemperer in No. 1, Karajan and Walter in No. 3, and Walter and Stokowski in No. 4). The engineering on this new Channel release is superior to either of my two favorites (I listened to the stereo CD layer of this SACD disc, which also contains a 5.0 surround mix for those so inclined and equipped). (As far as the Serenade No. 2, I will withhold any comment, for this is music I have tried repeatedly over the years to develop any sort of feeling for without any success.) Although the Budapest Festival Orchestra sounds splendid on this recording, what holds me back from giving it my own enthusiastic recommendation is a certain feeling of squareness, of liveliness, of spontaneity. For my taste at least, Fischer just seems too earthbound. All the notes are there, but he does not quite make them sing or dance or come completely to life. But in my experience, very few conductors do, and again, the sound quality is excellent, so this release is certainly well worth an audition by Brahmsians more broadminded than I.

Glass-Sandresky: Strange Energies. Sandresky: Flowing Water Encounters Obstacles; Nor'easter; What's Left; Fear; Force; Waves; Laughter. Glass: Etudes Nos. 2, 9, 12, 16.      
Eleonor Sandresky, piano. Orange Mountain Music OMM 7019.

Eleonor Sandresky is a pianist who has worked closely with composer Philip Glass for than three decades and has often performed with the Philip Glass Ensemble. Her works for the piano as presented on this recording, however, do not sound like warmed-over Glass. They are more expressive, more varied in style and mood. On her website, Sandresky says of this music that “I began composing these pieces back in 2012 as a way to try to capture various properties of sound: how it dies away, how it travels, where I feel it in my body, etc. With each of these pieces, I have tried to explore a different set of parameters for the performer and the audience. These are as much etudes for the audience to listen with specific intention as they are for the pianist!” Although the music of Glass that concludes the album by comparison seems more buttoned-down emotionally, the piano music of Glass can be fascinating, even spellbinding, and Sandresky does a fine job of drawing out the “strange energies” that lie below the surface of what can come across as shallow and repetitive music. This CD was one of those library finds that I hesitated to audition, having never having heard of Sandresky, but in the end I was glad I took the chance. If you are a fan of piano music, I invite you to do the same.

Reflections. Vikingur Ólafsson, piano. Deutsche Grammophon 00289 483 9222.
 

This new album from Icelandic pianist Vikingur Ólafsson is something of a follow-up to an album that we reviewed last year (that review can be found here). This time around, however, what we have is not a straightforward recital by Ólafsson of music by Debussy and Rameau, but rather some cuts featuring Ólafsson on the piano along with a variety of other musicians and sonorities. Ólafsson says of his aims in putting this project together: "I wanted to explore certain works from fresh perspectives, to reimagine them and invite other composers to rework elements of these extraordinary pieces... In addition to my own new recordings and material, this album features wonderful artists from different directions who have used my recordings from the Debussy-Rameau album as material for their own highly original works. They have opened my ears to new, fascinating paths and for that I am immensely grateful." Those new paths and sounds include the use of some electronic manipulation of sounds, synthesizers, guitars, percussion - this might sound quite daunting, but overall, the sounds produced are quite tasteful. The most jarring sound to my ears was the inclusion of a human voice on one cut. The sound of the voice was not in itself jarring, it was just unexpected on what is otherwise an instrumental album. Still, the best cuts on the albums were those featuring Ólafsson on the piano, of which fortunately there are quite a few, the most amazing of which is Track 8, titled Reflection, which is an improvisation on Debussy's Bruyères, the piece with which Ólafsson also opens and closes the album. The only fly in the ointment is the recorded sound, as some of the Ólafsson tracks were apparently recorded during pandemic lockdown under less than ideal circumstances and there are some extraneous noises that some listeners might find an unwelcome distraction. The other tracks are just fine. All in all, Reflections is a fascinating and imaginative release.

The Tower and the Garden: Toivo Tulev: A child said, what is the grass?; Gregory Spears: The Tower and the Garden; Joel Puckett: I enter the earth; Donald Nally, The Crossing. Navona NV6303.

The Crossing is a professional chamber choir that specializes in new music. They have made a number of recordings and picked up Grammy Awards for Best Choral Performance of 2018 for their recording of The Fifth Century by Gavin Bryars and 2019 for their recording of Zealot Chronicles by Lansing McCloskey. The three compositions on The Tower and the Garden each have a different overall sonority and sonic signature to them; ideally, that means listeners will be bound to find a sound they really like (reminiscent of the old Jimmy Dean restaurant television commercials – remember them? – “we’ll treat you so many ways you’re bound to like one of ‘em!). First up is A child said, what is the grass? by Estonian composer Toivo Tulev (b. 1958), which features some relatively mild dissonances but not to the point of annoyance. Next up is the title piece, The Tower and the Garden by American composer Gregory Spears (b. 1977), which consists of four movements. On this piece, the sound of the choir is augmented by the sound of a string quartet, producing a rich sonic rich tapestry. For the final composition, I enter the earth by American composer Joel Puckett (b. 1977), The Crossing produce some truly enticing harmonies, leaving the listener with a sense of serenity and inspiration.

KWN