Recent Releases, No. 26 (CD reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Voyages: Orchestral Music by James Lee III
Sukkot Through Orion’s Nebula; A Different Soldier’s Tale; Beyond Rivers of Vision; Chuphshah! Harriet's Drive to Canaan. Marin Alsop, ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra. AVIE AV2507.

Just yesterday I was perusing my Google news feed when I came upon an item that caught my eye. Maestro Stéphene Denève, the Music Director of the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, is an advocate for music of our current century, making an effort to schedule works by living composers as part of every concert program that the orchestra performs, with an upcoming program to feature a performance of one of the compositions on this CD, Chuphshah! Harriet's Drive to Canaan by the American composer James Lee III (b. 1975). Although there may be some in the audience who may be skeptical of music by composers who are pretty much unknown to them, especially contemporary composers, they are in for a treat, for Chuphshah! is an entertaining, very listenable piece, as are all the compositions on this remarkable AVIE recording. From the opening measures of Sukkot Through Orion’s Nebula, with their snare, bass drum, brass, and percussion excitement, you know right away that this is going to be a fun recording for both musical and audio reasons. In his liner note essay, Lee describes Sukkot as “a festive work for orchestra,” and it is certainly that. Next up is the longest composition on the program, the four-movement A Different Soldier’s Tale, based on stories that Lee’s grandfather told him about his experiences in World War II. As you might expect from such a description, it contains some passages of drama and turmoil, as well as passages of pathos and reflection. Beyond Rivers of Vision is in three movements, of which Lee observes “for the most part the form in these pieces is fantasia-like or rhapsodic.” The music has an otherworldly characteristic to it at times that stands in contrast to the drama of the Soldier’s Tale. The CD closes with the afore-mentioned Chuphshah! Harriet's Drive to Canaan, which is based on aspects of the life of Harriet Tubman. His liner note essay is insightful and helpful in understanding what he is attempting to do in all four compositions, but especially so for this one.

As I indicated at the outset, this release is a treat both musically and sonically. The music is energetic and assertive, with plenty of orchestral effects that will show off a good audio system. The engineering team has done a good job, Alsop and the orchestra sound as though they are having a good time playing this mostly extroverted music, and the end result is a highly recommendable release from an exciting young composer. Bravo!

Fire & Grace: Alma
Piazzolla: Libertango; Albeniz: Asturias; Vivaldi: L’Estate – Summer (Allegro non molto/Adagio e piano/Presto); Suite Españo comprising Prelude (JS Bach); Mendiokerra (Traditional Basque); Allemande (JS Bach); Ay Linda Amiga (Traditional Spanish 16th Century Madrigal); Courante (JS Bach); Nana (Traditional Spanish / Manuel De Falla); Sarabande (JS Bach); Malagueña (Traditional Spanish); Menuet 1 and 2 (JS Bach); Muñeira de Chantada (Traditional Galician); Gigue (JS Bach); Cancro Crú (Anxo Pintos); Tanya’s Tune (Roger Talroth). Fire & Grace (Edwin Huizinga, violin; William Coulter, guitar). CD available at fireandgracemusic.com.

This is one of those releases that exemplifies the resilience and power of great music. Take some folk instruments, some compositions from different traditions and cultures, blend them together with a great deal of energy and enthusiasm and let a couple of skilled performers just let ‘er rip and this is what you get. Starting off with Astor Piazzolla’s slinky and sensuous Libertango, followed by the energetic Asturias of Albeniz and an  arrangement of the Summer movement from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, violinist Huizinga and guitarist Coulter then display both their affection for the music of Bach and their skill at weaving melodies together as they shuffle the first six movements of Bach’s first Cello Suite, arranged for violin with guitar accompaniment, with a variety of Spanish compositions. Sounds crazy, but it works! Perhaps it helps to remember that the roots of inspiration for Bach’s famous suites for solo cello are planted in dance. We sometimes tend to regard them with a reverence that might at times threaten to make us freeze in place, but the exuberance with which Huizinga and Coulter make this music swing ought to help loosen up our joints and bring us some righteous joy. The program closes with a cut that Huizinga and Coulter explain they included because they are “huge fans of the music of Vasen. We finish this recording with the lovely Tanya’s Tune composed by Roger Talroth, former guitarist of Väsen.”  (Väsen is a Swedish folk music band.)

Musically, Alma is an energetic, imaginative and impassioned release that should appeal to fans of classical, folk, and perhaps even bluegrass music. My only reservation is with the engineering. For my taste, the microphones have been placed too close to the instruments, meaning that you hear every little sound, whether musical. There is just no sense of space, no air around the instruments, no sense of a room, no feeling of warmth. The sound that is there is certainly clean and clear, not harsh or distorted, so perhaps some listeners with some systems (Bose 901s, anyone?) in some rooms will not be bothered nearly as much as I am by the engineering approach. In any event, the music is the main consideration, and it is certainly well worth hearing.

Cameron Carpenter: Bach & Hanson
Bach: The Goldberg Variations, BWV 988 (transcr. for organ by Cameron Carpenter); Hanson: Symphony No. 2 in D-flat major, Op. 30, W45 (transcr. for organ by Cameron Carpenter). Cameron Carpenter, organ. Decca Gold B0 034581-02.

When I came upon this release, I was immediately intrigued by a number of things. First, I was a bit surprised to see that Carpenter would undertake to transcribe the Goldbergs for the organ. OK, the organ is a keyboard instrument, and yes, the Goldbergs have been transcribed for other instruments, and, yes, when you think about it, the multiple keyboards of the organ would actually make it easier to play the score as written (hands crossing over). I was further surprised by the pairing of transcriptions of a Baroque keyboard work with a modern Romantic symphony, not only in terms of the contrast in genres, but also in the idea that Carpenter was able to fit performances of both the Goldbergs and a symphony into one compact disc. Granted, the Hanson symphony is not a long one, but my goodness, Lang Lang had to use two CDs just for his interpretation of the Goldbergs alone! What we have here, then, is something like the early, faster Glenn Gould interpretation of the Goldberg Variations, only played on an organ rather than a piano, followed by a transcription for organ of a lushly scored symphony. Both are interesting, but probably more of interest to devoted organ lovers than to the typical classical music lover. My guess would be that the Bach would be of more appeal than the Hanson; for my ears, at least, hearing the Goldbergs on a different sort of keyboard instrument was more rewarding than hearing a piece so lushly scored for orchestra played by an organ, even by an organist as skilled as Carpenter, who is truly a master of that mighty instrument. For organ aficionados this new release by Cameron Carpenter is well worth an audition, but for others, maybe not so much.

Sting: The Bridge
Sting, vocals, guitar, bass guitar; Dominic Miller, guitars; various musicians. A&M Records B0034573-02.

I have previously posted some reviews of jazz recordings, arguing that in many respects, many jazz performances and recordings can be regarded as a form of chamber music. I am probably stretching things a bit here by including a recording by Sting, whom many readers will no doubt remember as a rock musician who initially rose to fame as a founding member and lead singer of rock band the Police from 1977-1984. Gordon Matthew Thomas Sumner (b.1951) is an English musician – known professionally as Sting – who has had a fruitful solo career since disbanding the Police nearly 30 years ago. In 1991, he formed an association with Argentine-born guitarist Dominic Miller b. 1960), who has toured and recorded with him for the past three decades (interestingly enough, my first review of a jazz recording was of Miller’s Absinthe, which you can find https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2019/06/dominic-miller-absinthe-cd-review.html). There is a fascinating interview with Sting and Dominic Miller on Rick Beato’s YouTube channel, available here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=efRQh2vspVc. Among other things, Sting and Miller tell Beato that they play and study the music of Bach on a regular basis. These are serious musicians, true professionals who understand music theory and have an ear for and appreciation of serious music. These qualities can be heard in The Bridge, which although it has the overall sound of a rock album, also has the musical and lyrical sophistication that sets it apart from the pack. Sting’s lyrics reflect his love of literature and his ability to express complex feelings in compact verse, and the musical arrangements (including the saxophone of jazz luminary Branford Marsalis) are colorful, energetic but never over the top. The liner notes are engrossing, the sound quality is first-class; indeed, in my more giddy imaginings, I can almost think of this as the rock equivalent of a collection of art songs. But I’ll stop short of that hyperbole and simply suggest that you might try giving this CD an audition should you be so inclined with an open mind as to what you might find….

KWN

Recent Releases, No. 20 (CD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Americascapes: Loeffler: La Mort de Tintagiles, Op. 6; Ruggles: Evocations (Orchestral version, 1943); Hanson: Before the Dawn, Op. 17; Cowell: Variations for Orchestra. Delphine Dupuy, viola d’amore; Robert Trevino, Basque National Orchestra. Ondine ODE 1396-2.

It is always exciting to come across a new release that features a program of unfamiliar music by composers you have heard of although you have heard very little of their music. It is even more exciting when it turns out to be as delightful a disc as this new Ondine release of American music played by a Spanish orchestra led by American conductor Robert Trevino (b. 1984). The program opens with the longest composition (25:48) on the CD, La Mort de Tintagiles by Charles Martin Loeffler (1861-1935). The piece is subtitled Poeme dramatique, d’apres le drame de M. Maeterlinck (“dramatic poem after the drama by M. Maeterlinck”). Loeffler, by the way, was actually born in Berlin, but settled in the United States in 1982, joining the recently formed Boston Symphony Orchestra as a violinist and becoming an American citizen in 1887. According to the liner notes by noted music critic Tim Page, “Loeffler seems to have had a fondness for near-concertos… In The Death of Tintagiles (1897), presented here, the viola d’amore takes center stage. Tintagiles is a discursive tone poem, inspired by a very strange play for marionettes by Maurice Maeterlinck about a wicked queen who murders an entire family, one by one. It is orchestrated in a manner that is both brilliant and subdued -- imagine Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherezade as it might have been rewritten by Gabriel Faure and you’ll have the general idea.” I must admit that it is hard to imagine that this charming music has anything to do with a family being murdered. Although there are some dramatic moments punctuated by some whacks on the bass drum, for the most part the music is lovely and flowing. And for me, although the lovely sound of the viola d’amore (a stringed instrument about the size of a viola, but with six bowed strings plus additional sympathetic strings arrayed below them) does take the lead from time to time, to describe this piece as a “near-concerto” seems to be quite a stretch. In any event, it is an attractive piece that gets the program off to an engaging start.

Next up is the orchestral version (a solo piano version also exists, which Ruggles continued to revise from 1934 to 1953) of Evocations by Carl Ruggles (1876-1971), whom Page characterizes as “notoriously salty.” Classical music fans of a certain age probably best remember Ruggles – at least by name – from an old DG recording featuring a young Michael Tilson Thomas leading the Boston Symphony Orchestra in a program that included Ruggles’s intriguingly titled composition Sun Treader along with Three Places in New England by Charles Ives. I can’t imagine that LP was ever a big seller, but for a time I could swear I seemed to see it everywhere I went. Perhaps the striking cover prompted record stores (remember them?) to display it prominently. At any rate, Evocations is a short piece (10:13) in four brief movements, sounding more modern than the Loeffler – chunky, assertive, enigmatic perhaps (particularly the ambiguous, atonal ending) but no, not salty. Mildly challenging though it might be, Evocations remains quite listenable and ultimately enjoyable, fully worthy of its place in the program.

Then comes the world premiere recording of a brief (6:44) symphonic poem by a young Howard Hanson (1896-1981) titled Before the Dawn, which he composed in 1921. Following the atonal, ambiguous-sounding ending of the Ruggles piece, the opening measures of Before the Dawn offer a striking a change of mood, immediately giving off that lush, sweeping, romantic, what strikes these ears anyway as “movie soundtrack vibe” that characterizes much of Hanson’s orchestral output. I do not mean that as snarky criticism; in fact, I find much of his music –including Before the Dawn – highly enjoyable, but Hanson has a signature sound that reminds me of film music – quality film music, that is. I find Page’s summation quite apt: “It seems that Hanson may have considered Before the Dawn juvenilia, for he could certainly have performed and recorded the work had he wanted to. Yet it is engaging from the start, filled with rich melodies, and sumptuously orchestrated in the style that Hanson would make his own over a career that would span six decades.” Amen to that! It is an engaging, sumptuously orchestrated little composition.

As good as the disc has been so far, with three unfamiliar but rewarding pieces expertly performed and recorded, the folks who put this program together have saved the best for last. Variations for Orchestra by Henry Cowell (1897-1965) is a delight from start to finish. The orchestra gets put through its paces, with passages of tender beauty from the strings followed at times by outbursts from the percussion. The music is sometimes exuberant and playful, at other times giving off a hint of mystery. Seemingly everyone in the orchestra gets a chance to shine over the 19:23 duration of the piece, and the Basque forces do themselves proud. It seems hard to believe that in all my years of listening, I have never before encountered a recording of this composition, which can hold its own right up there alongside, for example, Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra. (It has in fact been recorded before, but never by a major ensemble on a major label, and certainly nowhere remotely near the frequency accorded recordings of the Bartok.) This, folks, is a composition to which you really ought to give an audition. Where has it been hiding?

Besides the booklet notes from Tim Page, there are also notes by conductor Robert Trevino. The engineering is first-class, the orchestra plays with finesse, the program is imaginative and rewarding – what’s not to like? Hats off to a Finnish label for recording a Mexican-American conductor leading a Spanish orchestra in a revealing program of rarely-heard American music deserving much wider recognition. Bravo!

Last Song. Louis Couperin (1626-1661): Unmeasured Prelude (arr. Una Sveinbjarnardóttir & Tinna Þorsteinsdóttir);Atli Heimir Sveinsson (1938-2019): Three Marian Prayers (arr. Fritz Kreisler); Christoph Willibald Gluck (1714-1787): Melodie (arr. Fritz Kreisler); Jórunn Viðar (1918-2017): Icelandic Suite; Ole Bull (1810-1880) Ensomme Stunde (arr. Una Sveinbjarnardóttir);  Jules Massenet (1842-1912): Meditation; Karólína Eiríksdóttir (b. 1951): Winter; Magnús Blöndal Jóhannsson (1925-2005): In a Dream; Lullaby; Couperin: Aubade Provencale (arr. Fritz Kreisler);  Claudio Monteverdi (1567-1643): Ave Maria; Hildegard von Bingen (1098-1179): Anima Processional; Una Sveinbjarnardóttir (b. 1975): Last Song before the News. Una Sveinbjarnardóttir, violin; Tinna Þorsteinsdóttir, piano, prepared piano, toy piano. Sono Luminus DSL-92248.

Well, I see no need to beat around the bush on this one. I could easily make this review shorter than the listing of compositions above by simply stating that Last Song is the finest, most entertaining, thoughtfully assembled, artfully performed, and skillfully engineered recording of music for violin and piano that I have heard in many years. But because I get paid by the word, I will continue.

I received this CD a few months ago but somehow absentmindedly placed it atop a stack of older CDs that have been just sitting there unplayed for quite some time off to the side of my listening room. It was pretty much dumb luck that caused me to notice it sitting there, but as soon as I realized what it was, I felt so guilty and guilty that I immediately stuck it in my CD player without so much as a glance at the program. All I knew is that it was by a couple of Icelandic women, which I could infer from the names on the cover. But as I started listening, I knew this was, despite its rather drab cover, a truly special recording, and I soon dove into the liner notes to see what light they might be able to shed on the players and the program. There are some one-page biographical sketches of both musicians, plus some brief commentary on the composers and music by violinist and composer Una Sveinbjarnardóttir. As you can easily see from the header above, the music spans the centuries and includes compositions both familiar and unfamiliar. Yet from these two skilled musicians, the program feels like an organic, inevitable whole. The occasional use of the prepared and toy piano in place of the normal piano adds variety to the sound, but never sounds as though it is being used as some sort of special effect.

Violinist Sveinbjarnardóttir explains the program in her brief introductory essay: “ Last Song before the News. The project is inspired by the moment before the realization of something that drastically changes your life, the moment of just being, existing in the moment. That moment in time is free and full, mindfulness-ish and unaffected by misery, sorrow, regret, shame, anxiety and depression. In my mind it is bright and has a sense of nostalgia. The title also refers to a daily tradition on Icelandic radio Rás 1, where a song, “last song before the news” would be played just before the news hour at noon. The song would typically be an Icelandic one, sometimes a lullaby, a love song or an ode to scary and gorgeous nature. Or an Icelandic traditional, sometimes an Italian canzone or a Scandinavian sorrow. Jórunn Viðar’s piece Icelandic Suite sums up all these elements, a piece written for the 2000 years anniversary of inhabitation in Iceland in 1974. The lightness and the longing are with us throughout the program except in the title piece of mine, Last Song before the News, where apocalyptic visions are awfully obvious and take over early on.”

Just to be clear, no, I don’t actually get paid by the word. I was just being silly. In fact, I don’t get paid at all. But when I say this is a remarkable recording, well, you can take that to the bank.

The News: Andrew Cyrille Quartet (Andrew Cyrille, drums; Bill Frisell, guitar; David Virelles, piano, synthesizer; Ben Street, double bass). ECM 2681.

Veteran drummer Andrew Cyrille plays with a delicate touch that sets the tone for this talented quartet, who make a strong case on this recording for the idea of jazz as a form of chamber music. Guitarist Frisell brings a similarly light touch to his guitar stylings, playing with his usual loopy lines but with a lighter, softer tone than usual. All four musicians seem to be listening closely to each other, striving to play harmoniously together. Those looking for solo fireworks will not find them here; rather, they will find creative interplay. One piece that stands out as different from the rest is the title cut, “The News,” which sounds restless, unsettled, and aggressive – and then a few brief spoken words by Cyrille put everything in context. I won’t spoil the surprise; you’ll have to listen for yourself to see what I mean. The title of another cut seems to describe perfectly the vibe of the album as a whole: “Dance of the Nuances.”

KWN

A Roundup of Recent Releases (CD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Aspects of America: Pulitzer Edition. Walter Piston: Symphony No. 7; Morton Gould: Stringmusic; Howard Hanson: Symphony No. 4 “Requiem.” Carlos Kalmar: Oregon Symphony. Pentatone PTC 5186 763.

When classical music fans think of top orchestras and conductors, neither the Oregon Symphony nor Carlos Kalmar are likely to spring immediately to mind, but they have made some outstanding recordings for the Pentatone label, including two absolutely marvelous SACDs that have established permanent residence on my shelves, This England and Music for a Time of War. Although I was mildly disappointed to see that this latest release was not released in the usual Pentatone SACD format, but rather as a CD only, I understand that budgetary pressures are bearing down hard on the recording industry, and I am grateful that we have this recording at all. Times are tough out there.

The title of this release stems from the fact that this is an album of Pulitzer Prize-winning compositions by American composers. The program opens with Symphony No. 7 by Walter Piston (1894-1976), a three-movement work that was completed in 1960 and awarded the Pulitzer in 1961. The first movement is bold and dramatic, well-captured by the Pentatone engineering team in dynamic sound. The second movement is more lyrical, very moving, and the finale brings on renewed energy. I was not familiar with this work before, but am certainly pleased to have made its acquaintance through this excellent recording. The second piece is by Morton Gould (1913-1996). His five-movement Stringmusic was completed in 1993 and was awarded the Pulitzer in 1995. Gould composed the work for the legendary Russian cellist and conductor Mstsislav Rostropovich. It is lyrical and lively, but because it is for strings only, it can seem a bit of a sonic letdown after the boldness of the Piston. Still, it is an involving work in its own right, even if it seems a bit out of place when sandwiched between two colorful symphonies. The final work on the program is the one that most listeners are more likely to be familiar with, as the symphonies of Howard Hanson (1896-1981) have been recorded several times. His Symphony No. 4 was completed in 1943 and awarded the Pulitzer in 1944. It has an intensity about it that is quite involving, its four movements being titled Kyrie, Requiescat, Dies Irae, and Lux Aeterna, after the Catholic Mass for the Dead. However, this is not music that sounds religious in any formal sense. Like most of Hanson’s work, much of it sounds something like film music. Good film music. Colorful, listenable, dramatic, and entertaining.

All three of the works presented on this fine Pentatone release are a bit out of the mainstream but all are well worth an audition, especially when presented in such excellent sound quality as they are here. Times are indeed tough out there right now, but thank goodness for music to help sustain our minds and spirits.

Sigfúsdóttir: Kom vinur. Horous Askelsson, Schola Cantorum. Sono Luminus SLE-70019.
 

I feel impelled at the outset to point out that this is an EP containing less than 10 minutes of music, but what beautiful music it is! Icelandic composer Maria Huld Markan Sigfúsdóttir (b. 1980) writes of the two compositions on this recording that they are “composed to poems by the Icelandic poet Vilborg Dagbjartsdóttir. The poems are the absolute core of the pieces; when composing them, I felt like excavating music from the text, unravelling hidden sounds from the words. Kom vinur has a somber undertone, a sense of loneliness and longing for sharing light and thoughts with a friend in the dark winter night. In Maríuljóô the tender view is through the eyes of a child observing subtle changes in nature and the seasons as well as asking the mother questions about the image of the Holy Mother.”

I don’t have access at the moment to the poems, but the choral music on this EP is so beautiful and moving that I feel inspired to see whether I can find the poems somewhere on the interweb. Meanwhile, I know that Sigfúsdóttir has composed other music; the 10 transcendent minutes contained on this brief gem have been more than enough to make me seek out more. This is a wonderful release, brief (but inexpensive) as it might be.

No Time for Chamber Music: Collectif9.

I can’t quite remember exactly where I first heard of this release, although I believe it was a mention on Twitter. Chamber arrangements of music by Gustav Mahler sounded interesting, so I streamed (at mp3 quality, alas; I live in a rural area and do not have wideband internet access) a few cuts and was quite taken with what I heard. I subsequently ordered a physical copy from the group’s website (collectif9.ca). The musicians of Collectif9 include John Corban, Yubin Kim, Robert Margaryan, and Elizabeth Skinner, violins; Xavier Lepage-Brault, Jennifer Thiessen, violas; Jeremie Cloutier, Andrea Stewart, cellos; and Thibault Bertin-Maghit, double bass, who also did the arranging on seven of the eight selections. I should note that there are recordings out there of various Mahler symphonies arranged for small forces, chamber orchestras and in some cases even smaller ensembles, but this recording is not just scaled-down versions of movements from Mahler symphonies. The music herein is clearly based on Mahler’s scores, but it really does sound like chamber music, not scaled-down symphonic movements.    
 
The liner notes explain the unusual album title and concept thusly: “‘No time for chamber music… you are nothing but an academic exercise’; these are two lines taken from the 3rd movement of Luciano Berio’s Sinfonia, built on the scherzo of Gustav Mahler’s 2nd symphony… The composers on this recording use quotations to create depth in storytelling… Gustav Mahler quoted his own works with intent and delicacy, with layers and layers of intricate detail and deeper meaning… Creating these arrangements allowed us to see the breadth of colors he was imagining and generated the space to find this diversity ourselves. While we might have the impression that Gustav Mahler, with his symphonies and Lieder, had no time for chamber music, this was not at all the case. Reflecting our daily life, our interactions, and our intimacies, chamber music is human communication itself.”

The eight selections on this CD include two taken from Mahler’s Symphony No. 1, two from Symphony No.2, and one each from Songs of a Wayfarer and The Song of the Earth. The final selection, by composer Philippe Hersant, is a fantasy based on musical themes by Mahler. This is a truly stimulating collection that really digs into the heart of Mahler’s inspirations. If you are a fan of Mahler, you really ought to hear it; however, you need not be a Mahler fan to enjoy some truly fascinating chamber music. Assuming you have the time, of course…

La traversée: Matthieu Bordenave, tenor saxophone; Patrice Moret, double bass; Florian Weber, piano. ECM 2683 088 2928.

The ECM label has long featured music that has often been referred to as “chamber jazz,” a term that depending on the source has served over the years both as criticism or compliment. On La traversée (“The Crossing”) the trio led by saxophonist Matthieu Bordenave plays music that truly does sound like a blend of chamber music and jazz, with the absence of drums contributing to the chamber-music ambience. The music is partly composed, partly improvised. Bordenave explains that as they planned for the recording, he and pianist Florian Weber “I talked a lot about how to incorporate some of the colours of modern composition. I love for instance Messiaen and Dutilleux. I wanted some of that sense of complexity in the chords. Too much complexity, however, can create a prison for improvisers. In some of the pieces, like ‘Archipel’, we take just a small fragment of written material and develop it further and further...” Bordenave also notes that the nine tracks on the album are based on poetry by the French writer René Char, explaining that “the melodies were responses to some of the poems, or impressions drawn from them.”

The sound produced by the trio is spare and haunting, recorded in typical ECM style with both clarity and ambience. This is music born out of reflection that invites further reflection on the part of the listener. Even if you are not really all that much of a jazz fan, unless you are someone who is pathologically opposed to the sound of a saxophone you might well find this to be a fascinating take on the idea of chamber music.

Lontano: Anja Lechner, cello; François Couturier, piano. ECM 2682 085 7705.

Although a good portion of the music on Lontano is improvised, this is clearly not jazz; no, not even ECM-style “chamber jazz.” Rather, Lechner and Couturier have produced an enchanting program of honest-to-goodness chamber music that features their own compositions and improvisations along with music by Ariel Ramirez, Giya Kancheli, Anouar Brahem, and Henri Dutilleux. This is music that sings, that soars, that exults in the sheer joy of music-making. In his liner notes, music author Stephane Ollivier writes that “since the start of their duo collaboration in the early 2000s as members of the Tarkovsky Quartet, German cellist Anja Lechner and French pianist François Couturier have been inventing a music that is genuinely impossible to pin down. Though in some senses continuing the European chamber music tradition in its forms and instrumental colours, it is nevertheless distinct from it in its variety of repertoire and in its approach, which knowingly, virtuosically blurs the demarcation line between notated and improvised music.” To hear these players make music is to hear imagination at work and dedication at play. I love this description by Lechner: “With François I have often set off on journeys to foreign melodies. This requires mutual trust, courage and imagination. Together we search as if through various countries, exploring, shaping, struggling, rejecting, and finding new forms to finally sing the song. Then we grow wings and feel the stories that want to be told – only on this moment, in this room, for this person who will listen.” Having had the good fortune to be that person who listened, I invite others to join me in enjoying this remarkable recording.

Järvlepp: Concerto 2000 and Other Works. Pascale Margely, flute; Ivan Josip Skender, Zagreb Festival Orchestra; Petr Vronsky, Moravian Philharmonic Orchestra. Navona Records NV6291.

Canadian composer Jan Järvlepp (b. 1953) has assembled an album of entertaining orchestral music containing plenty of rhythmic energy and variety. For example, the opening work in this collection, Concerto 2000 for flute and orchestra, consists of three movements: a lively opening movement that features flamenco rhythms complete with handclapping, a more serene second movement with an Arabic-sounding interlude, and a third movement punctuated with percussion shots and vocal shouts, a movement that Järvlepp explains was influenced by Finnish folk music.  The next piece, titled Pierrot Solaire, is a lively romp that jumps and whirls and whooshes in a mad rush of frantic energy. It is music you can imagine dancing to, but only if you had superhuman energy. Better to listen, tap your feet, and maybe wave your arms about. Brass Dance features not just brass, but plenty of percussion, strings, and some occasionally off-kilter rhythms that contribute to the madcap delight of the music, which is even kicked up a notch in the next cut, Street Music, with brass and percussion blasting out the rhythm. The mood changes significantly with the next composition, In Memoriam, which Järvlepp composed for string orchestra in memory of his deceased brother. It is a tender, moving piece of simple but heartfelt beauty. The album ends with Camerata Music, a lively romp that brings back the prominent percussion – complete with some handclapping.

Other than the solo flute being a bit overpowering in Concerto 2000, the sound quality is just fine. All in all, this is an entertaining album that should appeal to a wide variety of musical tastes.

Some Food for Thought: “Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo did not know where their amazement began… Something similar happened with the cylinder phonographs that the merry matrons from France brought with them as a substitute for the antiquated hand organs and that for a time had serious effects on the livelihood of the band of musicians. At first curiosity increased the clientele on the forbidden street and there was even word of respectable ladies who disguised themselves as workers to observe the novelty of the phonograph from first hand, but from so much and such close observation they soon reached the conclusion that it was not an enchanted mill as everyone had thought and as the matrons had said, but a mechanical trick that could not be compared with something so moving, so human, and so full of everyday truth as a band of musicians. It was such a serious disappointment that when phonographs became so popular that there was one in every house they were not considered objects for amusement for adults but as something good for children to take apart.” (from One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Márquez).

KWN

Hanson: An American Romantic (CD review)

Music of Howard Hanson. David Craighead, organ; Eileen Malone, harp; Meliora Quartet; Brian Preston, piano; Theodore Sipes, baritone; Barbara Harbach, organ; Robert Shewan, Roberts Wesleyan College Chorale; David Fetler, Rochester Chamber Orchestra. HDTT Troy129.

Composer, conductor, educator, and music theorist Howard Hanson (1896-1981) was, indeed, an “American romantic.” He was among the last of the breed, a kind of twentieth-century throwback to the nineteenth century, so you’ll find little of the avant-garde here, the experimental, the dissonant, the discordant, the odd, the atonal, or the eccentric. Yet as a prizewinning composer and director of the Eastman School of Music for over forty years, he continually championed new American music (Copland, Barber, Carter, Thomson, Sessions, Harris, etc.). On the present album, recorded over thirty years ago, released on the Albany label, and here remastered from the original tapes by HDTT (High Definition Tape Masters), we hear a lighter side of the composer, chamber and choral music mainly. It is not among his most-popular material nor is it his best, but some of it can be downright entertaining, and HDTT’s recording quality, as always, is excellent.

The first of five selections on the program is the Concerto for Organ, Harp and String Orchestra, with David Fetler leading the Rochester Chamber Orchestra. Despite the title, however, it’s not much of an “organ concerto” per se. It’s more like an orchestral piece that just happens to include an organ because often the organ goes by almost unnoticed. Don’t expect a full-blown Saint-Saens Organ Symphony, or the work will disappoint you. This is a more easygoing piece of music, a kind of lyric idyll for strings with minor organ and harp accompaniment.

The Concerto, at least under Fetler, the only time I've heard it, sort of ambles lazily along in a kind of Frederick Delius manner, with no real starting point or destination. Yet that may be part of the work's appeal, as it is wonderfully relaxed. Besides, when the organ does make its occasional appearances, it does so with authority.

Next up is the ballet suite Nymphs and Satyr, which Hanson wrote in 1979, one of his final works. Again it's Fetler and his Rochester Chamber Orchestra who perform it, the same forces that gave it its Rochester première shortly before this recording. So I imagine theirs to be a definitive performance of the music.

Unlike the Organ and Harp Concerto, which runs along in a single movement, the equally brief ballet is in three movements: Prelude and Fantasy, Scherzo, and Epilogue. It's a bit more animated than the Concerto, with several lively sections, and there's more sense of atmosphere throughout. It still doesn't leave one with much actually to remember, but its often playful warmth seems heartfelt.

The final items on the agenda are a bit more unusual and, in their way, more impressive. The Concerto da Camera for Piano and String Quartet has a melancholy though winsome quality to it as performed by Brian Preston, piano, and the Meliora Quartet. I quite enjoyed it, particularly Preston's commanding piano playing and the Quartet's longing accompaniment.

Two Yuletide Pieces for Piano, also performed by Brian Preston, seem more important than they probably are and left me somewhat unmoved. However, perhaps saving the best for last, we find an a cappella motet, A Prayer of the Middle Ages, and three Psalms, performed by the Roberts Wesleyan College Chorale, Robert Shewan conducting, to conclude the program. The choir sings them beautifully, and they project a sweet and affecting attitude, the latter three selections enjoying the accompaniment of organist Barbara Harbach and baritone Theodore Sipes. 

John Proffitt produced and engineered the recordings around 1981 using Neumann condenser microphones, an analog Studer professional recorder, and DBX Type 1 professional noise reduction. Some years later, Albany Records released the recording on CD, and in 2013 HDTT (High Definition Tape Transfers) remastered it from the original DBX-encoded, 2-track, 15-ips master tapes to DXD 24-bit 352.8kHz. The results on HDTT’s compact disc are probably about as close as one can come to the sound of the master tapes.

The sound has an attractively big, airy, ambient feeling to it, with a wide dynamic range and plenty of serious impact. The stereo spread is quite expansive, too, and the transient response quick, as we might expect of a good master tape. During the Concerto the organ displays an especially taut, well-defined control, set against some natural-sounding strings. A realistic sense of hall and orchestral depth help to reinforce the notion of being in the audience, not too far away from the players.

For further information on the various formats, configurations, blank HQCD discs, and prices of HDTT products, you can visit their Web site at http://www.highdeftapetransfers.com/storefront.php.

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

JJP

Hanson: Symphony No. 2 “Romantic” (CD review)

Also, Lux Aeterna; Mosaics. Gerard Schwarz, Seattle Symphony. Naxos 8.559701.

If you’ve seen Ridley Scott’s 1979 sci-fi/horror movie Alien, you’ve heard a part of Howard Hanson’s Second Symphony, or if you have any Mercury LP’s or CD’s, you might have heard Hanson conducting any number of recordings he made in the Fifties and Sixties. Hanson (1896-1981) was a Pulitzer Prize-winning American composer, conductor, teacher, and musicologist who gave the world quite few good musical compositions as well as an equal number of good audiophile recordings. On the present disc, we hear his Symphony No. 2 “Romantic” and several shorter works, Lux Aeterna and Mosaics, all recorded by Maestro Gerard Schwarz and his Seattle Symphony in 1988, 1992, and 1994 for the Delos label and re-released by Naxos in 2011. Schwarz’s disc makes an excellent alternative to Hanson’s own recording of the Second Symphony for Mercury.

Hanson wrote the Symphony No. 2 in D-flat major, Opus 30, in 1930, with the subtitle “Romantic.” The subtitle is entirely appropriate as the work sounds much like a continuation of late nineteenth-century Romanticism, with shades of his Romantic contemporaries Rachmaninov and Sibelius along the way. Hanson was something of an old-fashioned holdover in this regard, saying that his intent was to write music “young in spirit, lyrical and romantic in temperament”; with the Symphony No. 2 he obviously succeeded. Viewed today, it’s probably his most-famous, most-accessible work. It’s no wonder we hear bits and pieces of it throughout popular culture.

The introductory segment of this three-movement symphony begins with a grandly melodramatic sweep and then opens up to a beautifully melodic theme we’ll hear in various guises throughout the work. Schwarz takes particular delight in the more poetic aspects of the score, while giving full measure to its rhapsodic qualities. Although Hanson tended to throw quite a lot into the stew, Schwarz holds it all together without its becoming too sentimental. Alien lovers will, well, love it.

Hanson once said that he did “not believe that music is primarily a matter of the intellect, but rather a manifestation of the emotions.” The symphony’s Andante con tenerezza (“moderately slow, with tenderness”) reiterates some of the first movement’s thematic content, although in much altered form, with Schwarz taking more of his time with it than the composer did in his own recording.

The concluding Allegro con brio (“quick and lively, with vigor and vivacity”) starts with a flourish worthy of Hanson’s teacher Ottorino Respighi and The Pines of Rome before settling into its lush, rhapsodic closing material. Schwarz again emphasizes the recurring theme, this time on a more grandiloquent scale, closing the show in fine fashion.

As companion works, Schwarz and company provide two of Hanson’s briefer pieces, first the Lux Aeterna (“Eternal Light”), from 1923. It was a common chant for a Requiem Mass and probably came about as a result of Hanson’s fascination for sixteenth-century Italian composer Giuseppe Palestrina and for Gregorian chant. It’s a rather somber, almost melancholic work, and Schwarz probably does more than anyone to make it seem more important and less pompous than it is. I admit it does exude a strangely calming effect.

The second filler, Mosaic (1957), is a later piece from Hanson, a brief set of variations in his usual brooding Nordic style. This is maybe Hanson at his most Sibelian, so take that as you will. Certainly, Schwarz does his best to bring out all the color and emotional intensity in the work.

Originally, it was Delos who recorded the sound, all three selections at the Seattle Opera House in 1988 (Symphony), 1992 (Mosaics), and 1994 (Lux Aeterna). The sound is quite expansive, stretching across the speakers and beyond, with a smooth response and a reasonable degree of depth besides. The midrange sounds a trifle thick, not as transparent in the Second as Hanson’s Mercury recording, which remains an audiophile choice, and there is just a hint of edge to the Seattle recording’s lower treble, evident in the strings from time to time. A strong dynamic thrust and a touch of ambient bloom complete a fairly lifelike acoustic picture.

JJP

Hanson: Merry Mount Suite (CD review)

Also, Bold Island Suite; Symphony No. 2 "Romantic." Erich Kunzel, Cincinnati Pops Orchestra. Telarc CD-80649.

American composer, conductor, and teacher Howard Hanson (1896-1981) extracted the Merry Mount Suite from his 1933 opera, and it's anything but merry. The drama depicts some rather brutal encounters between early New England Puritans and newly arrived Cavaliers, the core of the conflict centering on the preacher's illicit lust for a woman. If it sounds a little like Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter, you'd be right. Hawthorne wrote the original short story, "The Maypole of Merry Mount." In the tale you'll find names like Wrestling Bradford, Marigold Sandys, and Sir Gower Lackland, which in itself makes it hard to take seriously. Anyway, the suite is much less dour than the opera, its four movements concertrating on the lighter, more ardent aspects of the story, at least as conductor Erich Kunzel and his Cincinnati Pops Orchestra interpret it.

The Bold Island Suite from 1961 gets its world première recording here; it's a series of three tone pictures portraying birds, the seascape, and nature on Bold Island, just off the Maine coast. The concluding composition, the Second Symphony, may be familiar to some listeners as background music in the movie Alien, and it is quite atmospheric. Kunzel and the Cincinnati players do their usual professional job interpreting all three pieces, and the album makes a strong introduction to the composer's work.

Telarc's sound from 2005 seems more refined than previous releases. I compared their Hanson offering to an earlier Telarc-Kunzel recording and found the older one brighter and more closely miked. I also noticed that the Telarc engineers used an entirely different chain of recording equipment here than in earlier days--microphones, consoles, preamps, monitors, interconnect cables--and that the company used Direct Stream Digital for their encoding, all of which may have helped account for the differences I heard. I'm not sure which sound I liked best, though. The new sonics retain all of the old Telarc trademarks of bass and dynamics while rendering the sound stage quite naturally, but the old sonics seemed more outgoing and robust. In any case, the new recording seems to fit the mood of the music pretty well, so I'm not complaining.

One might keep in mind, however, that Hanson himself recorded many of his own works for Mercury, including the Second Symphony, and they still sound terrific remastered on CD.

JJP

Hanson: Symphony No. 1 "Nordic" (CD review)

Also, The Lament for Beowulf. Gerard Schwarz, Seattle Symphony and Chorale. Naxos 8.559700.

Even if you can't place the name Howard Hanson, you might have heard music from his Second Symphony in the movie Alien, or you might have heard him conducting any number of recordings for Mercury dating from the Fifties and Sixties. Hanson (1896-1981) was an American conductor, teacher, musicologist, and Pulitzer Prize-winning composer who gave us any number of good compositions as well as quite a few fine audiophile recordings. On the present disc, we hear his Symphony No. 1 "Nordic" and his work for orchestra and chorus The Lament for Beowulf, both conducted by Maestro Gerard Schwarz and his Seattle Symphony and Chorale in 1988 and 1990 for the Delos label and re-released by Naxos in 2011. Alongside Hanson's own recordings of these pieces for Mercury, Schwarz's recordings of Hanson's music make a formidable alternative.

The disc begins with the relatively short, three-movement Symphony No. 1, "Nordic," from 1922.  Hanson was of Swedish descent and had a great affection for Scandinavian music. He patterned his First Symphony after Jean Sibelius's Symphony No. 1, so you'll hear some of the same dark, vast, brooding northern landscapes pictured in both works. In comparison to Hanson's own recording of the piece, Schwarz's rendition is marginally broader, which some listeners may prefer for its greater drama and others may not, finding it simply slower.

Hanson described the first movement as singing "of the solemnity, austerity and grandeur of the North, of its restless surging and strife, of its somberness and melancholy." Under Schwarz, it sounds more leisurely than under Hanson, more lyrical and flowing. It seems warm and comforting on the one hand yet deeply agitated, almost threatening on the other, all the while evoking a lonely, distant, and, yes, Romantic, mood.

The second movement Andante is more gentle, rhapsodic, and serene than the first movement, although it never falls into the sentimental category. Schwarz establishes and maintains a mood of calm that slightly surpasses that of Hanson himself. It's especially tranquil in its suggestion of seagulls in flight.

Finally, the third-movement Allegro con fuoco tackles themes that are more folklike yet more ardent and assertive, more tempestuous, more stormy than anything in the preceding two segments. Here, Hanson the conductor has the upper hand, producing a somewhat more energetic closing statement. Still, Schwarz involves the listener sufficiently in the composer's colorful melodies and whirling rhythms. Even though Schwarz may not close the show as emphatically as Hanson does, he ensures a satisfying conclusion, nonetheless.

The Lament for Beowulf, 1925, is music in a similar vein as the First Symphony in that it is ominous and somber. However, this time Hanson sets the music to orchestra and chorus. Of course, the composer based it on the early eighth-century English poem (set in Scandinavia) that recounts the daring feats of the hero Beowulf.  Upon his death, the people express their sorrow at his funeral. The women mourn, and Beowulf's wife and handmaidens voice their anguish beside the hero's funeral pyre by the sea. Schwarz's interpretation, again slower than Hanson's own, is aptly elegiac, solemn, harsh, grave, and grim, while still being epic in scope.

Delos recorded the music at Seattle Opera House, Seattle, Washington, the Symphony in 1988 and the Lament in 1990. The sound is smooth and wide--wide in stereo spread, dynamic range, and frequency response. Midrange clarity is fine, although it is not as transparent as in the Hanson Mercury recording, which remains an audiophile choice. There is just a bit of edge in the Seattle recording's lower treble, evident in the higher strings from time to time. A good sense of orchestral depth and a touch of ambient bloom complete a reasonably realistic acoustic picture.

About my only serious reservation with the disc is its length. At just over forty-eight minutes, it seems a little short on content, particularly when compared to the Hanson-Mercury recording, which includes the Second Symphony along with the First (although you'll have to buy a second disc if you want The Lament for Beowulf).

JJP