Karl Nehring’s Favorites of 2024

As we come to the end of another year, it’s time once again to look back and recall our favorite releases from the past 12 months. Given that 2024 was the year that Classical Candor went into semi-retirement, shifting at the beginning of August from regularly publishing at least two reviews a week to publishing reviews on a less frequent, less regular basis, we found ourselves with fewer releases to choose from; however, we still have been able to pull together a list of cracking good recordings for your kind consideration. Enjoy! 

Ravel: Valses nobles et sentimentales; Ma mère l’Oye (Complete Ballet); Daphnis et Chloé, Suites Nos. 1 and 2; L’Éventail de Jeanne: Fanfare. St. Olaf Choir; Minnesota Orchestra; Stanisław Skrowaczewski, conductor. VOX-NX-3037CD

 

Many classical music lovers of a certain age are no doubt familiar with Vox, a budget label that produced some real gems that provided the music lover on a budget an excellent way to expand their classical LP collections at a reasonable price. Appearing on the back cover of these new “Vox Audiophile Edition” releases is a highlighted statement affirming that “The recordings of American orchestras produced for VOX by the legendary Elite Recordings team of Marc Aubort and Joanna Nickrenz are considered by audiophiles to be among the very finest sounding orchestral recordings ever made” They certainly did a fine job on the Ravel recordings they did in Minnesota. The Polish-born Stanisław Skrowaczewski (1923-2017) became Music Director of the orchestra in 1959, a position he held for 19 years. He was then appointed conductor laureate, returning every year to Minnesota to lead his beloved orchestra. In all, his relationship with the orchestra stretched over 56 years. He was instrumental in their getting the acoustically resplendent new concert hall in 1974, the venue in which Elite Recordings was called in to record their complete set of Ravel’s orchestral works for orchestra, of which this new release offers a substantial sampling on one CD.

Fauré: Complete Music for Solo Piano. (CD1) Romances sans paroles (“Songs without Words”), Op. 17; Ballade in F sharp major, Op. 19; Impromptu No. 1 in E flat major, Op. 25; Barcarolle No. 1 in A minor, Op. 26; Valse-caprice, Op. 30; Impromptu No. 2 in F minor, Op. 31; Mazurka, Op. 32; 3 Nocturnes, Op. 33; (CD2) Impromptu No. 3 in A flat major, Op. 34; Nocturne No. 4 in E flat major, Op. 36; Nocturne No. 5 in B flat major, Op. 37; Valse-caprice, Op. 38; Barcarolle No. 2 in G major, Op. 41; Barcarolle No. 3 in G flat major, Op. 42; Barcarolle No. 4 in A flat major, Op. 44; Valse-caprice, Op. 59; Valse-caprice, Op. 62; Nocturne No. 6 in D flat major, Op. 63; (CD3) Barcarolle No. 5 in F sharp minor, Op. 66; Barcarolle No. 6 in E flat major, Op. 70; Thème & Variations, Op. 73; Nocturne No. 7 in C sharp minor, Op. 74; Pièces brèves (8), Op. 84; Barcarolle No. 7 in D minor, Op. 90; Impromptu No. 4 in D flat major, Op. 91; Barcarolle No. 8 in D flat major, Op. 96; Nocturne No. 9 in B minor, Op. 97; (CD4) Nocturne No. 10 in E minor, Op. 99; Barcarolle No. 9 in A minor, Op. 101; Impromptu No. 5 in F sharp minor, Op. 102; Préludes (9), Op. 103; 2 Pieces, Op. 104 – I. Nocturne No. 11 in F-Sharp Minor, II. Barcarolle No. 10 in A Minor; Barcarolle No. 11 in G minor Op. 105; Barcarolle No. 12 in E flat major, Op. 106; Nocturne No. 12 in E minor, Op. 107; Barcarolle No. 13 in C major, Op. 116; Nocturne No. 13 in B minor, Op. 119. Lucas Debargue, piano. Sony Classical 19658849882 4 

 

Here we have yet another example of an album that largely owes its existence to the COVID-19 pandemic. Debargue writes, “in 2020, when travel and concerts were disrupted by the coronavirus pandemic, I was able to return to one of my favourite musical pleasures: lengthy sessions spent sight-reading at the piano. This was the occasion on which I discovered the Nine Preludes op. 103 of 1909 and 1910. And I was immediately struck by the profound originality and mastery of these brief pieces from Fauré’s final period… The late-period style of Fauré’s was a revelation. Initially, my reaction was negative as I found myself dealing with scores whose harmonic language was beyond my grasp. To decipher Fauré’s ultimate enigmas I needed to draw on all the passion that I have invested in studying tonal harmony over the years… This voyage of discovery has provided me with a number of musical pleasures that have transformed my life both as a person and as a musician. I needed to go into the recording studio in order for me to be able to be able to share this adventure with my listeners.” A unique dimension of this recording is the piano itself. Rather than the typical Steinway, Yamaha, etc. that we usually encounter on an album of this sort, Debargue has instead chosen to record these tracks on an Opus 102 piano. As he explains, “I needed the sound of the piano to express a spirit of experimentation in the clearest possible way. The project found an ideal complement in my choice of an Opus 102 piano, an innovatory concert grand that has one hundred and two keys (as opposed to the standard eighty-eight) and a choice of keyboard that to my ears makes total sense in this repertoire.” Although of course Fauré would not have written any notes for any of those 14 extra keys, there does seem to be a clarity of sound to this recording, especially in the upper registers, that adds to the lister’s musical enjoyment. Debargue provides brief comments on all the works included in the set, making this box an excellent way for someone to take a deep dive into the world of Fauré’s music for piano. 

After Bach II. Brad Mehldau: Prelude to Prelude; J.S. Bach: Prelude No. 9 in E Major from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 854; Prelude No. 6 in D Minor from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 851; Mehldau: After Bach: Toccata; Bach: Partita for Keyboard No. 4 in D Major, BWV 828: II. Allemande; Mehldau: After Bach: Cavatina; Bach: Prelude No. 20 in A Minor from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 865; Mehldau: Between Bach; Bach: Fugue No. 20 in A Minor from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 865;Mehldau: Variations on Bach’s Goldberg Theme – Aria-like; Variation I, Minor 5/8 a; Variation II, Minor5/8 b; Variation III, Major 7/4; Variation IV, Breakbeat; Variation V, Jazz; Variation VI, Finale; Bach: Prelude No. 7 in E-Flat Major from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 852; Mehldau; Postlude. Brad Mehldau, piano. Nonesuch 7559790077 

 

The American pianist Brad Mehldau (b. 1970) is best known for his work in the jazz arena, perhaps most widely as the leader of his own trio, but also for his work with other prominent jazz musicians such as guitarist Pat Metheny and saxophonist Josh Redman. However, his musical interests are not restricted to jazz alone. Early in 2018, some months before my old friend and colleague John Puccio invited me to join him here at Classical Candor. Mehldau released his solo piano album After Bach,which contains five selections from The Well-Tempered Clavier plus some Mehldau originals inspired by them. Fast-forward six years and we now are now blessed with After Bach II, which as you can see from the track listing above follows the same formula of selections from The Well-Tempered Clavier plus some Mehldau originals inspired by them. In addition, we also get to hear Mehldau improvising on the theme from Bach’s Goldberg Variations, a nice bonus. Veteran engineer Tom Lazarus is responsible for the superb sound quality, and Mehldau’s liner notes are packed with insight. To any lover of Bach’s keyboard music, this album is recommended without reservation, for it opens a whole new perspective on the great master’s music.

Silvestrov: Symphony for Violin and Orchestra “Widmung” (“Dedication”); Postludium for Piano and Orchestra. Janusz Wawroski, violin; Jurgis Karnavičius, piano; Lithuanian National Symphony Orchestra; Christopher Lyndon-Gee, conductor. NAXOS 8.574413

 

The Ukrainian composer Valentin Silvestrov was born in Kyiv in 1937. In March of 2022, at the age of 84, he left his home city with his daughter, granddaughter, and a suitcase full of manuscripts to undertake the difficult three-day journey to Berlin. He found himself and his family refugees, victims of the invasion of their home country ordered by Russian leader Vladimir Putin. His music is like no other. At times it floats serenely, but at other times can suddenly shout as though having a terrifying dream or disturbing memory. But much of it seems to allude rather than refer, suggest rather than imply, playing with memories of melodies, suggestions of sounds, reminders of rhythms. There are composers who just have a sound. Sibelius, for example, even though his symphonies vary in style, has an orchestral sound that is easy to hear. So it is with Silvestrov. When I first listened to the Symphony for Violin and Orchestra that opens this album, my mind was immediately drawn back to the first Silvestrov compositions I had ever encountered. Three decades ago, violinist Gidon Kremer headlined a CD release on the Teldec label that included this very composition – “Dedication” – coupled with a work titled Post Scriptum for violin and piano. It struck me at the time as an amazing work, like nothing I had never heard before. I could only think that had Mahler lived maybe five or ten years longer, he may have written something along these lines. Maybe…  According to the NAXOS booklet, “when Gidon Kremer first heard his own recording of the work he spontaneously shouted out, ‘Death in Venice!’ And, after a moment, then closer to the truth, ‘Death in Kyiv!’... This music is like a Mass for everything that exists that is desirable, unattainable, or only to be arrived at in one’s imagination.”  Kremer’s reaction takes me back more than 50 years, back to my discovery of the music of Gustav Mahler, when as a young G.I. stationed in Germany I took a chance on a Deutsche Grammophon LP I found on sale for $1.25 in a PX in Stuttgart: the soundtrack to Visconti’s film Death in Venice, which featured several movements from Mahler symphonies. One listen and I was hooked for life. It was the same with Silvestrov ever since I first heard Dedication. This new release has meant reconnecting with something precious. Postludium maintains a similar sound world, but of course with the piano rather than the violin as the featured instrument. Note that neither of these two pieces is described as a concerto; indeed, neither features a soloist showing off virtuoso chops to orchestral accompaniment. From the liner notes: “Malcolm MacDonald has said of Silvestrov’s music, that he ‘seems to compose, not the lament itself, but the lingering memory of it, the mood of sadness that it leaves behind’.” It is music like no other; it deserves to be heard.

Bruckner: Symphony No. 7 in E Major (1863, Edition Nowak); Bates: Resurrexit. Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra; Manfred Honeck, conductor. Reference Recordings FR-757SAC

As is his custom, Maestro Honeck provides extensive notes on the music, not only its history and context, but also his approach to performance. Honeck observes that “throughout the music, Bruckner takes special care to notate specific expressive directions, for example the markings of ‘solemn’ or ‘misterioso,’ words that on the surface perhaps seem to have more to do with feeling than tempo. I view these, however, as direct clues to the tempo character, not only defining the expressive intent, but also signaling tempo modifications that would have been understood as part of the sensibility of the time. It is interesting to note that over time, these conventions would later come to be stretched to an extreme, leading Gustav Mahler to provide even clearer artistic instructions to the musicians, such as ‘don’t drag’ or ‘short break like a breath.’ Ultimately, I believe that with Bruckner, a balance must be found in honoring the expressive intent hidden within the musical text rather than merely focusing on pure execution. Just as Anton Bruckner himself remarked, ‘… many important things are not noted in the score’ …” Honeck leads his Pittsburgh forces in a powerful performance that is captured in convincing sonic splendor by the engineering team from Soundmirror, the Boston-based firm that Reference Recordings employs for its Pittsburgh sessions. Reference Recordings made its name based on its audiophile-quality sound (“Professor Johnson’s Astounding Sound Show”), so if they trust Soundmirror to record for them, you know that Soundmirror knows what they are doing. This is Bruckner played and recorded superbly. Resurrexit was commissioned by the Pittsburgh Symphony in honor of Honeck’s 60^th birthday. It is an amazing piece, 11 minutes of spellbinding musical excitement. It opens with a quasi-Middle Eastern sound, developing with brass, percussion, ultimately building into Telarc-level bass drum explosions that underpin passages of controlled orchestral fury. It is one of the most remarkable orchestral compositions I have auditioned in years. With a first-rate Bruckner Seventh, an exciting piece by Bates, audiophile sound, and extensive liner notes, this is a recording not to be missed. 

Pat Metheny: MoonDial; La Crosse; Corea/Potter: You’re Everything; Lennon/McCartney: Here, There, and Everywhere; Metheny: We Can’t See It, But It’s There; Falcon Love; Dennis/Adair: Everything Happens to Me/(Bernstein/Sondheim): Somewhere; Traditional: Londonderry Air; Metheny: This Belongs to You; Shõga; Raskin/Mercer: My Love and I; Dennis/Brent: Angel Eyes: Metheny: MoonDial (Epilogue). Pat Metheny, guitar. BMG 964026842

 

Guitarist Pat Metheny (b.1954) has enjoyed a long and productive career that has taken him to venues large and small all around the globe. In addition to leading his own ensembles, he has played with a veritable who’s who of jazz musicians. In 2021, he released his first overtly classical recording, Road to the Sun, which found him stepping back as a performer and forward as a composer, penning a solo piece for classical guitarist Jason Vieaux and an ensemble piece for the Los Angeles Guitar Quartet. Then in 2023 Metheny released Dream Box, an album of primarily lyrical, inward-looking music, most of which he recorded using a hollow-bodied electric guitar (which musicians refer to as a “dream box,” hence the album’s title). Although the guitar might be electric, the sound is smooth and mellow. At the end our review (which you can read here), we mentioned that Metheny was embarking on a solo tour – the Dream Box tour – centered around the music from the album. In March of 2024 I caught his concert in Columbus, Ohio – an amazing evening that saw Metheny perform on 6- and 12-string acoustic guitars, his hollow-body electric as well as other electrics, his 42-string Pikasso, and even his MIDI-controlled, solenoid-driven Orchestrion. At one point during his two-and-a-half-hour performance he brought out the guitar he plays on MoonDial, which he explained was a six-string baritone nylon-string guitar that had been custom made for him by his friend Linda Manzer. In the MoonDial liner notes, Metheny tells the story of how this particular baritone guitar came to be (it turns out that finding nylon strings capable of handling the unusual tuning he prefers was a challenge), how he came to use it more and more during the Dream Box tour, and how after the first extended part of the tour went to break, he headed to the studio so that he could “capture the magic of this new sound as quickly as possible and build on the immediate experiences of playing it every night for several months while it was all still fresh. The result of this journey is this recording: MoonDial.” Although the compositions are varied, the prevailing mood is remarkably consistent throughout the album. Yes, there are subtle shifts in melody, rhythm, and harmony, but the whole transcends its parts. If any particular tune stands out from the rest, it might be the Lennon/McCartney tune Here, There, and Everywhere, at least to these boomer ears, but even there, Metheny’s gift for improvisation and the sweet tones of the baritone guitar carry this music far beyond the familiar. As Metheny notes, “the feeling of this record follows the instrument’s nature. The central vibe here is one of resonant contemplation. This guitar allows me to go deep. Deep to a place that I maybe have never quite gotten to before. This is a dusk-to-dawn record, hard-core mellow.”  Hard-core mellow might strike classical music lovers as a strange way to describe music; however, it strikes me as a perfectly apt descriptor of some of the beloved piano music of Debussy. In any event, MoonDial is a beautiful recording, highly recommended to jazz and classical fans alike.

 Oded Tzur: My Prophet. Epilogue; Child You; Through a Land Unsown; Renata; My Prophet; Last Bike Ride in Paris. Oded Tzur, tenor saxophone; Nitai Hershkovits, piano; Petros Klampanis, double bass; Cyrano Almeida, drums. ECM 2821 651 4241

 

The Israeli-born New York-based tenor saxophonist Oded Tzur (b. 1984) has developed a distinctive tone and style of playing that gives his music an appeal capable of drawing in listeners who might not typically characterize themselves as jazz fans. Tzur studied Indian classical music; moreover, he was inspired to adapt techniques from masters of Indian instruments to the saxophone, enabling him to play microtones and slide between notes that the instrument would normally produce. This ability adds an extra sense of lyricism to his playing; in addition, much of the time the sound he draws from his instrument makes it seem as though he is somehow simply modulating some primal breath rather than blowing himself – as if he is the conduit, not the ultimate source of the breath, and thus the sound. It’s truly uncanny. We previously reviewed a recording by the pianist from this ensemble, Nitai Hershkovits, (you can read that review here). His energetic playing is a welcome complement to Tzur’s saxophone stylings, while Klampanis on bass and Almeida on drums provide solid and steady rhythmic support. From the sliding notes of Epilogue (can that really be a tenor sax?) through the bouncing rhythms of Child You, the plaintive call of Through a Land Unsown, the tender portrait of Renata, the heartfelt ode My Prophet, ending with the rowdy Last Bike Ride in Paris, Tzur and his fellow musicians deliver a spellbinding musical experience that should have appeal for a far wider audience than just hardcore jazz fans. 

Anna Clyne: Shorthand; Three Sisters; Prince of Clouds; Within Her Arms; Shorthand REDUX. Yo-Yo Ma, cello; Avi Avital, mandolin; Colin Jacobsen, Pekka Kuusisto, violins; The Knights; Eric Jacobsen, conductor. Sony Classics

 

It was back in early 2020 when I first became acquainted with the music of British-born composer Anna Clyne, who now resides in the Hudson Valley area of New York.  This new release features her music being played by the well-known superstar soloists Yo-Yo Ma of Sesame Street fame (just [half] kidding) and mandolin virtuoso Avi Avital, supported by the up-and-coming young New York-based chamber orchestra, The Knights. Clyne writes, “I wrote Shorthand in 2020 when we were in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic and when I was invited to write a piece for The Knights’ recording project, The Kreutzer Project. I was thrilled to compose this piece as I am a cellist, and I love writing for strings – I can imagine and relate to the physicality of the instruments... The title comes from Tolstoy’s comment that ‘Music is the shorthand of emotion. Emotions, which let themselves be described in words with such difficulty, are directly conveyed to man in music, and in that is its power and significance’.” From the opening phrases of Ma’s cello, the emotions do indeed pour forth from this piece, but with sincerity and power, not saccharine and schmaltz. The way The Knights reflect and interact with Ma’s solo part the highlights the beauty of both his playing and Clyne’s writing, both of which are sublime. The next work on the program offers a contrasting sonority as the solo instrument shifts from the cello to the mandolin. The plucking of the mandolin set against the contrasting sounds of the strings offers a fascinating musical sonority over the work’s three movements, each lasting a little over five minutes, with the movements being cast in the traditional fast-slow-fast concerto arrangement. It’s an utterly delightful work, an unexpected highlight – at least for those of us who never would have expected the mandolin, these days so associated with bluegrass music (sorry, I’m showing my USA provincialism here – but Avi Avital’s playing is completely convincing. Such a wonderful performance of such an enticingly entertaining work this proves to be! Next on the program is Prince of Clouds, featuring violinists Colin Jacobsen (brother of conductor Eric Jacobsen and a co-director of The Knights) and Pekka Kuusisto. It’s an intense piece that alternates between lyrical passages and almost violent outbursts from the soloists. Within Her Arms, which is scored for fifteen individual string parts, is a composition that is at once calm and intense, swirling with emotion that stirs the soul. The listener can feel longing, but also resolution as the sound of the strings rises and fades. The album ends with an abbreviated version of Shorthand, which this time around seems to be the perfect way to follow the emotional tone set by Within Her Arms. There is a sense of looking back with satisfaction toward what has come before, of accepting life’s losses, challenges, and blessings with equanimity. Of course, each lister will have their own reaction to this – or any – music, for such reaction is certainly subjective; however, I feel confident in making the objective judgment that Anna Clyne is a composer whose time has come, and that Shorthand is an album well worth a serious audition. 

Danish String Quartet: Keel Road. Turlough O’Carolan: Mabel Kelly; Danish traditional/Rune Tonsgaard Sørensen: Pericondine/Fair Isle Jig; Ale Carr: Stormpolskan; Danish traditional: Skomager Har Jeg Været; Sørensen: Once a Shoemaker; English traditional: Lovely Joan; O’Carolan: Carolan's Quarrel With The Landlady; Faroese traditional: Regin Smiður; O’Carolan: Captain O'Kane; Fredrik Schøyen Sjölin: Kjølhalling; O’Carolan: Planxty Kelly; English traditional: As I Walked Out; Danish traditional: Marie Louise; Fredrik Schøyen Sjölin, Sørensen: The Chat: Sørensen Gale Warning; Norwegian traditional: Når Mitt Øye, Trett Av Møye. Danish String Quartet (Rune Tonsgaard Sørensen, violin, clog fiddle, harmonium, spinet, voice, whistle; Frederik Øland, violin, voice, whistle; Asbjørn Nørgaard, viola, voice, whistle; Fredrik Schøyen Sjölin, violoncello, bass, voice, whistle) with Nikolaj Busk, piano; Ale Carr, cittern. ECM New Series 2785 487 5884

 

Back in 2017, the Danish String Quartet released an album on ECM titled Last Leaf, a program of music based around northern European folk and traditional sources. More recently, they embarked upon a multi-year, five-album deep dive into Bach, late Beethoven, and their connections to other composers, the Prism series. With Keel Road, the four Danes have once again returned to music with deep roots in folk and traditional sources. As they explain: “We set out on a musical journey that traverses the North Sea -- for centuries, the main communication channel of Northern Europe, the highway and the internet of bygone eras. And even though known for its swift upsurges and strong gales, brave sailors would again and again travel the keel road, enabling a continuous exchange of goods, culture and music. The musical keel road of this album will take us from Denmark and Norway to shores far away: to the Faroe Islands, to Ireland and England. While folk music represents local traditions and local stories, it is also the music of everywhere and everyone. At the end of the day, our stories and our music remain closely connected.” You know it is going to be a lively, melodic, and downright fun album when you look over the list of compositions and see several by Turlough O’Carolan (1670-1738), the legendary harpist from Ireland’s County Meath. Unusual among the itinerant harpists of his day, O’Carolan drew influence not only from local tradition but also from then-contemporary European composers including Vivaldi and Corelli, intuitively seeking his own blend of form and folk spontaneity. Back in my old $ensible Sound days, I reviewed a few albums that featured music by O’Carolan, and I always found myself with a big smile on my face. I daresay that same reaction will come to those who hear his tunes as arranged for string quartet and played in such a lively manner as they are here. And that’s that appealing thing about Keel Road – the sense of spontaneity and joy that the musicians bring to these tunes. In addition to the more traditional compositions on the program, Keel Road interweaves compositions by DSQ members Rune Tonsgaard Sørensen and Fredrik Schøyen Sjölin that also convey a folk spirit in keeping with the overall mood. A brief excerpt from a field recording of the Danish traditional En Skomager Har Jeg Været (“A cobbler I was”) precedes Sørensen’s reflective tune Once a Shoemaker. Guest musicians Ale Carr (cittern) and Nikolaj Busk (piano), of the folk trio Dreamers’ Circus join the DSQ for a performance of Carr’s Stormpolskan. Keel Road should appeal to a wide variety of musical tastes: classical, folk, and world music to name a few. 

Ethan Iverson: Playfair Sonatas .(CD1) Fanfare; Violin Sonata – I. Andante-Allegro Moderato II. Blues (for Ornette .Coleman) III. Rondo. Allegro; Marimba Sonata – I. Allegro II. Blues (for Eric Dolphy) III. Cadenza IV. Rondo. Presto; Clarinet Sonata – I. Allegro II. Music Hall (for Carla Bley) III. Scherzo-Minuet IV. Rondo. Allegro moderato; (CD2) Trombone Sonata – I. Allegro moderato II. Hymn (for Roswell Rudd) III. Rondo; Alto Saxophone Sonata – I. Allegro II. Melody (for Paul Desmond) III. Allegro; Trumpet Sonata – I. Allegro II. Theme (for Joe Wilder) III. Rondo; Recessional. Ethan Iverson, piano; Miranda Cuckson, violin; Makoto Nakura, marimba; Carol McGonnell, clarinet; Mike Lormand, trombone; Taimur Sullivan, alto saxophone; Tim Leopold, trumpet. Urlicht AudioVisual UAV-5960

  

Iverson’s background in and love for both jazz and classical music is evident throughout Playfair Sonatas. As you can see from the track listings above, each of the sonatas includes movements designated by the typical European classical terms such as Allegro or Rondo; however, each also contains a movement featuring the name of a prominent jazz figure, such as Blues (for Ornette Coleman) or Hymn (for Roswell Rudd). In the liner notes, Iverson explains, "These dedications came about late in the game. I had scrapped a previous Adagio for clarinet, and wrote a new middle movement I really liked. However, was this ‘oom-pah' rhythm too much like one of Carla Bley's amusing ‘music hall’ pieces? Well, what if I dedicated the movement to her? That would fix the issue of appropriation. As it turned out, Carla passed away the same day I finished ‘Music Hall’ and devised the ‘dedications’ stratagem. The other five salutations to Ornette Coleman, Eric Dolphy, Paul Desmond, Joe Wilder, and Roswell Rudd came easily, for they had been in the back of my mind the whole time." Why are they called the “Playfair” sonatas? It turns out that like Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations, they are named for an actual person – in this case, Piers Playfair, an entrepeneur with a long history of curating, producing, and commissioning new works, especially at the intersection of jazz and classical music. When Playfair and Iverson became acquainted, they realized that they shared many common ideals about music. When the COVID pandemic forced Iverson to downsize and move his grand piano into a cheap studio space, Playfair asked Iverson if he needed help, and when Iverson admitted that he did, Playfair responded that he would cover six months of studio rent in exchange for six sonatas for various instruments of his choosing. The end result is what we have on this two-disc set: the Playfair Sonatas. Making the physical package particularly attractive is the quirky and delightful cover art by the famed New Yorker cartoonist Roz Chast. Delightful art, informative booklet, and rewarding music that brings a dash of jazz seasoning to chamber music make Playfair Sonatas an irresistible release for music lovers of the jazz and classical persuasions alike.

Brad Mehldau: Formation (Book Review)

by Karl Nehring

Brad Mehldau: Formation: Building a Personal Canon, Part One. Equinox Publishing Ltd., Sheffield, UK/Bristol, CT. 2023. 293 pp.

 

The American pianist Brad Mehldau (b. 1970) is best known for his work in the jazz arena, perhaps most widely as the leader of his own trio, but also for his work with other prominent jazz musicians such as guitarist Pat Metheny and saxophonist Josh Redman. If you really want to hear some peak jazz Mehldau, a good place to start would be his “The Art of the Trio” albums from the 1990s, especially The Art of the Trio III – Songs, which is a captivating listening experience from start to finish, but very hard to find these days, alas, so you might try Vol. IV, Back at the Vanguard, which is also excellent. However, Mehldau’s musical interests are not restricted to jazz alone. For example, he has composed songs and performed recitals with classical singers such as Renee Fleming, Anne Sofie von Otter, and Ian Bostridge. Other examples of his wide musical interests and talents include an album titled Taming the Dragon, on which he plays a variety of electronic synthesizers while paired with drummer/percussionist Mark Giuliana, and an album in which he performs what is essentially a classical piano concerto of his own composition, accompanied by the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra. Our review of that album, titled Variations on a Melancholy Theme, can be found here. Among the other albums of his that we have reviewed previously are the classically-oriented After Bach II (reviewed here) and Après Fauré (reviewed here).

 

His aptly titled musical autobiography Formation: Building a Personal Canon, Part One offers a remarkably – at times shockingly – candid look at the forces and influences that shaped his musical and personal development. “Part One” signifies that in this volume, Mehldau covers how his personal musical canon came to be formed, or as he puts it in his preface, “how that process played out in tandem with my development as a jazz musician throughout the first twenty-six years of my life. In a second book that is underway, I will focus more directly on the canon itself.” Some of the personal details that Mehldau reveals are on the sordid side. As he explains, “there are detailed descriptions of drug and alcohol abuse in this book. I want to stress that although I describe the pleasure of using them, I hope I will have shown that they were a mistaken path, one that injured me and almost took my life. They are a part of my story. I do not know why I survived when close friends of mine did not. Perhaps because of this, I feel an obligation to tell that story honestly. Drugs and alcohol were painkillers which only caused more pain, and I want to underline: they offered no insights musically, in the least.” 

 

As a child, Mehldau of course enjoyed the rock music of the time – Fleetwood Mac, Pink Floyd, Rush, Billy Joel – from the latter came his interest in the piano. His first exposure to classical music were a couple of cassettes the family had of Rudolf Serkin playing Beethoven – the 4^th and 5^th Piano Concertos with Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra plus another with him playing the “Moonlight,” Pathétique,” and “Appassionata” Sonatas. Later, he would go on to take piano lessons for a teacher who would introduce him to the classical repertoire, beginning with Bach, Beethoven, and Chopin, then soon moving on to Mozart, Brahms, and Bartók. “Brahms was my favorite and Bach pissed me off then – it was just too damn hard. There was just no place to hide. I came around eventually to Bach and he still provides endless edification and nothing short of spiritual nourishment. Beethoven was and is the model for a paradoxical creature, one with a certain willful inspiration. Brahms gives solace and consolation. The three Bs as they’re called – I’m a happy member of that cliché.”

 

Although the book will doubtless appeal more to the jazz fan than to the classical fan, there is much in its pages to appeal to both. To those with an academic background, I would suggest that you might find his discussion of Adorno to be of interest. It’s a fascinating discussion, covering jazz, swing, Brahms, Beethoven, capitalism, totalitarianism, upbeat, downbeat, Black music… all in a few pithy pages. Mehldau gets worked up, Adorno gets skewered, and bebop lives.

If you’re a jazz fan, you really ought to check this book out. Or if you are a classical fan with at least some interest in jazz, well, you might want to give it a look. It’s fascinating story.

Brad Mehldau: After Bach II (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Mehldau: Prelude to Prelude; J.S. Bach: Prelude No. 9 in E Major from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 854; Prelude No. 6 in D Minor from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 851; Mehldau: After Bach: Toccata; Bach: Partita for Keyboard No. 4 in D Major, BWV 828: II. Allemande; Mehldau: After Bach: Cavatina; Bach: Prelude No. 20 in A Minor from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 865; Mehldau: Between Bach; Bach: Fugue No. 20 in A Minor from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 865;Mehldau: Variations on Bach’s Goldberg Theme – Aria-like; Variation I, Minor 5/8 a; Variation II, Minor5/8 b; Variation III, Major 7/4; Variation IV, Breakbeat; Variation V, Jazz; Variation VI, Finale; Bach: Prelude No. 7 in E-Flat Major from The Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, BWV 852; Mehldau; Postlude. Brad Mehldau, piano. Nonesuch 7559790077 

The American pianist Brad Mehldau (b. 1970) is best known for his work in the jazz arena, perhaps most widely as the leader of his own trio, but also for his work with other prominent jazz musicians such as guitarist Pat Metheny and saxophonist Josh Redman. If you really want to hear some peak jazz Mehldau, you really can do no better than his “The Art of the Trio” albums from the 1990s, especially The Art of the Trio III – Songs (Warner Brothers 9362-47051-2), which is absolutely amazing. However, his musical interests are not restricted to jazz alone. For example, he has composed songs and performed recitals with classical singers such as Renee Fleming, Anne Sofie von Otter, and Ian Bostridge. Other examples of his wide musical interests and talents include an album titled Taming the Dragon, on which he plays a variety of electronic synthesizers while paired with drummer/percussionist Mark Giuliana, and an album in which he performs what is essentially a classical piano concerto of his own composition, accompanied by the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra. Our review of that album, titled Variations on a Melancholy Theme, can be found here.

We have also reviewed some other releases by Mehldau in the past, these featuring his output for solo piano. In 2020, Mehldau released an album he recorded while holed up at home with his family in the early stages of the COVID-19 pandemic. It contains some reflective original music along with tunes by Billy Joel and Neil Young (you can find our review here). Then in 2023, Mehldau created quite a stir when he released Your Mother Should Know, his imaginative keyboard takes on Beatles classics, which you can read about here. But of more interest to followers of Classical Candor might well be an album that he released early in 2018, some months before my old friend and colleague John Puccio invited me to join him here at Classical Candor. his solo piano album After Bach (Nonesuch 7559-79318-0), which contains five selections from Bach’s The Well-Tempered Clavier plus some Mehldau originals inspired by them. Fast-forward six years and we now are now blessed with After Bach II, which as you can see from the track listing above follows the same formula of selections from The Well-Tempered Clavier plus some Mehldau originals inspired by them. In addition, we also get to hear Mehldau improvising on the theme from Bach’s Goldberg Variations, a nice bonus. 

 

Mehldau recounts in his liner notes that the idea for including his take on the Goldbergs in this recording stemmed from having been invited to participate in a gala evening at the Verbier Festival in Switzerland during which the Goldberg Variations would be presented, each by a different pianist. Among the pianists invited to participate were such luminaries as Daniel Trifonov, Yevgeny Kissin, Yuja Wang, Richard Goode, Michel Pletnev, and Yefim Bronfman. Writes Mehldau of the occasion, “Mr. Engstroem asked me to play one of the variations. I considered it for a moment, and declined. Frankly, I did not have the balls to do that in front of so many piano giants. The Verbier [Festival] is hist to the premiere classical pianists of our time, and this evening was no exception. I presented another idea: I would improvise a variation instead. Mr. Engstroem accepted, his only guideline being to keep my contribution to three minutes. Sergei Babayan opened, giving a sanctified reading of the Goldberg’s famous aria theme… I played a variation in 5/8 time, and it seemed to go over well with the audience – no eggs were thrown. When I went into the studio to record the music presented here, I built on that approach, presenting an aria-like opening theme, continuing with 5/8 and 7/8 metered variations, toggling between major and minor modes, and culminating in a high-energy finale.” The end result is fascinating – allowing us to hear the Goldbergs from a new perspective as Mehldau imbues them with improvisatory energy and imagination.

The album has a flow to it that is pleasing to the ear and emotions. After the brief opening Prelude to Prelude, which has just enough harmonic edge to it to wake up our senses, Mehldau then plays two Bach Preludes with energy and grace. The comes a real highlight, Mehldau’s Toccata, with its pounding rhythm and propulsive energy, inspired by Bach but infused with the energy of jazz. Not just toccata as touch-piece, but at times as a “pound-piece.” Then comes the respite of a relatively peaceful Cavatina, Mehldau’s touch now sounding more suited for a harpsichord. His own Cavatina has a more ringing, melodic style, with a pulsing left-hand figure and a singing right-hand melody, truly beautiful and uplifting.

 

Then we are back in Bach’s orbit. Another Prelude is followed by Mehldau’s Between Bach, an interesting composition in that it sounds at once both very improvised and very much inspired by Bach. You can hear Mehldau starting with Bach-like ideas and just going with them. This is followed by some Bach with some extra energy – a Fugue, once again showing off the deftness with which Mehldau can attack the keyboard. Next up are his take on the Goldbergs, then Mehldau chooses to close the album with a final Bach selection, the E-Flat Major Prelude, of which he says, “for me, the piece can be so sensuous, even luxurious, inviting me to linger here and there along the way in its unfolding, continuous stream. If I linger too long, though, the slower, stately chorale-like theme that hovers around or intersects with that stream will lose its thrust, and the large glacial cadences will diminish in effect. It’s a metaphor of being/becoming – finding the balance between enjoying the ride and keeping one’s eyes on the road, between pleasure and purpose.” The album then closes with Mehldau’s brief (2:16) Postlude, a heartfelt melodic farewell to the listener. Veteran engineer Tom Lazarus is responsible for the superb sound quality, and Mehldau’s liner notes are packed with insight. To any lover of Bach’s keyboard music, this album – and its predecessor – is recommended without reservation, for it opens a whole new perspective on the great master’s music.

Recent Releases, No. 17 (CD reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Songs of Solitude: Hiyoli Togawa, viola. Toshio Hosokawa: Sakura/Solitude; Bach: Cello Suite No. 4 in E flat major, BWV 1010 – Sarabande; Johanna Doderer: Shadows; José Serebrier: Nostalgia; Bach: Cello Suite No. 1 in G major, BWV 1007 – Sarabande; Tigran Mansurian: Ode an die Stille; Michiru Oshima: Silence; Bach: Cello Suite No. 3 in C major, BWV 1009 - Sarabande; Kalevi Aho: Am Horizont; John Powell: Perfect Time for a Spring Cleaning; Bach: Cello Suite No. 5 in C minor, BWV 1011 – Sarabande; Cristina Spinei: Keep Moving; Rhian Samuel: Salve Nos; Bach: Cello Suite No. 2 in D minor, BWV 1008 – Sarabande; Gabriel Prokofiev: Five Impressions of Self-Isolation (Calling Out/Wine for One/Only Birds in the Sky/How Many Weeks...?/Back to the English Garden); Bach: Cello Suite No. 6 in D major, BWV 1012 – Sarabande; Federico Gardella: Consolation. BIS 2533 SACD.

This gorgeous production is generously filled along several dimensions. At nearly 79 minutes in duration, you certainly get your money’s worth in that respect; moreover, the booklet included with the disc contains not only an introductory note from violist Togawa about how the recording came about (yes, this is another of those pandemic-inspired projects) but also notes about the composers, complete with photos, including a pair that capture Ms. Togawa playing the viola on the left and on the right, working on a painting. A glance through the program reveals not just works by contemporary composers, but several Bach Sarabandes originally composed for solo cello but played here on the viola. “In these times of isolation and global security,” Hosokawa writes, “Bach is my daily bread. Spiritual nourishment, comfort, grounding, confidence. His music is never fussy; it is pure and clear… This was precisely what I needed more than ever during the time of corona… Alongside music and painting my daily walks also formed peaceful havens in my life. I walked through Berlin’s empty streets, which in their silence seemed almost surreal to me. I asked myself how people in other cities and countries could manage, if they were no longer allowed at all. And then my mobile rang: it was Kalevi Aho! The Finnish composer told me that he had just completed a double concerto for percussion, viola and chamber orchestra that he had been planning for a while. How wonderful! Especially at this time of inactivity and isolation I have become aware of how special it is that something creative – a piece of music – can come into being. And so I hit on the idea of asking not just Aho but also other composers all over the world to write solo works for me. Pieces that would reflect life and work in the time of the coronavirus and that distil isolation in music.” Now, distilling isolation in music might sound like a process that would result in a real downer of a disc, but that is decidedly not the deal here. Yes, some of the pieces are reflective in nature, but never morose; besides, the listener must not forget that that the sarabande was a type of dance, after all. The end result is an album of energy and grace, appropriate listening during a pandemic that is, alas, still ongoing.

Astor Piazzolla: Cien Años. Piazzolla: Concerto for Bandoneon; Mosalini: Tomá, Tocá (Take It, Play It); Mosalini: Cien Años (One Hundred Years); Piazzolla/arr. Mosalini: The 4 Seasons of Buenos Aires; Piazzolla/arr. Mosalini: Libertango. Juanjo Mosalini, bandoneon; Kristina Nilsson, violin; Anne Black, viola; Steven Laven, cello; Gisèle Ben-Dor, Pro Arte Chamber Orchestra of Boston. Centaur Records CRC 3844.

Some regular followers of Classical Candor might recognize the name of Argentinian composer Astor Piazzolla from JJP’s recent review (here) of a Pentatone recording that included a version of  the composer’s The 4 Seasons of Buenos Aires, a different arrangement of which is included on this new Centaur CD. Others might instead remember Piazzolla as the father of the “Nuevo Tango” movement, either by hearing recordings of Piazzolla himself of other musicians who enthusiastically embraced this fusion of tango and jazz first undertaken by Piazzolla in the 1950s. Piazzolla was a master of the bandoneon, a more expressive cousin of the harmonica, played on this recording by Juanjo Mosalini, Jr. (b. 1972), whose father had played bandoneon and worked with Piazzolla in Argentina before moving to France in 1977. In 1984, Juanjo Jr. left Buenos Aires for Paris to reunite with his father. According to the liner notes, “musically, he remembers his father’s Parisian trio of the mid ‘80s, and Piazzolla’s music, as the most significant inspirations of his formative years. ‘Piazzolla’s album La Camorra blew my mind, the way Queen and Bill Evans blew my mind,” says Junajo. “And when you are a teenager those things leave a mark for the rest of your life. It’s in your flesh.’” Those who may be unfamiliar with the sound of the bandoneon are in for a treat as Mosalini digs right in at the very outset, joined by piano, strings, and the rest of the orchestra in an energetic performance of Piazzolla’s lively concerto. This is music that at one moment will have you wanting to get up and dance, the next moment perhaps reflecting on a lost love, then perhaps wanting to play the air bandoneon. The two shorter pieces by Mosalini,  Tomá, Tocá and Cien Años – the first quick and lively, the second beginning slower and building in energy and rhythmic energy as it proceeds – sound right at home among the Piazzolla pieces. The 4 Seasons of Buenos Aires is a lively and colorful romp, well worth consideration as a serious “classical” music composition. Interestingly enough, the liner notes declare something that I never would have supposed: “Astor Piazzolla has become for many a symbol of Tango and the music of Buenos Aires. It’s an ironic association for a musician who had, at best, a love-hate relationship with music that he had fought to liberate from its conservative confines, and a city where he was always largely a stranger… Piazzolla was born March 11, 1921, in Mar del Plata, a seaside resort 250 miles south of Buenos Aires. He didn’t visit the capital city until he was 17, and by then he was a feisty teenager who had grown up in the Lower East Side of New York City.” Well, then… The album closes with Mosalini’s arrangement of Piazzolla’s Libertango, a piece whose very title brings us back to the idea of the dance, and whose insistent rhythms and lively accents can’t help but boost our energy levels. The recording quality is clean and dynamic and the liner notes are interesting and informative, with plenty of interesting photos. All in all, this is an exciting release.  

Brad Mehldau: Variations on  a Melancholy Theme. Brad Mehldau, piano; Orpheus Chamber Orchestra. Theme; Variation 1; Variation 2; Variation 1; Variation 3; Variation 4; Variation 5; Variation 6; Variation 7; Variation 8; Variation 9; Variation 10; Variation 11; Cadenza; Postlude; Encore: Variations “X” & “Y”. Nonesuch 075597916508.

Brad Mehldau is best known as a jazz pianist who has made quite a name for himself both as a leader and sideman. Not all that long ago we did a brief review of one of his recent solo piano releases, which can be found here. This new Nonesuch release finds him in front of the venerable Orpheus Chamber Orchestra as they combine to record a serious composition by Mehldau, his Variations on a Melancholy Theme. Mehldau offers a brief overview of the piece in his liner note: “My melancholy theme has a two-part form, and each part is repeated:A1A2B1B2. It’s a common variation form – Bach’s Goldberg or Beethoven’s Diabelli, for example. The piece concludes with a piano cadenza and extended coda which revisits aspects of the opening motif, but roams freely, moving through shifting tonal centers. It ends in a meditative mood, in the waltz meter in which it began… The melancholy theme itself has a wistful character; perhaps a feeling of resignation. There is some sense of finality and ending to it already when heard for the first time. As I composed, a narrative challenge emerged, namely. How to embark on a story that begins with a conclusion.” As a reviewer, I also find myself with a challenge, for this is one of the most unusual recordings I have come across in quite some time. I had been looking forward to auditioning it, but the first time or two I played it, I found it nearly unlistenable. It is mastered at a really high level, like those pop recordings that are meant to be heard on earbuds from mp3 source files. And even when I adjusted the volume control down a couple of clicks, the treble seemed a bit harsh, making it impossible to enjoy the music. It took a few more tries to realize that I had to turn the volume down even more – my goodness, this thing is mastered hot! Only then could I begin to appreciate the music, which is really quite enjoyable. There still seemed to be a bit of harshness in the upper strings, but not unbearably so. The sound quality is in some senses quite good – the piano sounds quite robust, for example, and the woodwinds and brass are quite vivid – but there is no sense of space or depth, with the instruments seeming to be strung out in “clothesline” fashion between the speakers, no feeling for the venue (which the notes do not specify), most likely the result of multimiking with relatively close microphone placement. Now, let’s get back to the music. The more I listened, though, the more I came to be able to follow the theme through the different variations, and the more I came to appreciate and enjoy the music despite my reservations about the engineering. Although the writing for the orchestra at times sounds reminiscent of either a Hollywood score or a jazz band, the variations move right along and Mehldau’s imagination at the keyboard never flags. The final variation, the cadenza, and the postlude are simply beautiful, Mehldau really showing his great depth of musical feeling. The applause after the encore reveals that this was a live concert recording – does that perhaps account for some of the engineering issues? All in all, recommended, but with a warning to turn your volume control down a few notches before you hit the PLAY button.

Camino: Sean Shibe, guitar. Manuel de Falla; Danza del molinero (arr. Tilman Hoppstock); Antonio José: Pavana triste (third movement of Sonata for Guitar); Frederic (Federico) Mompou: Canço i dansa 10 (arr. Mompou) (Canço; Dansa); Erik Satie: Gymnopédie No. 1; Gnossienne No. 1; Gnossienne No. 3; Mompou: Canço i dansa 6 (Canço; Dansa); Ravel: Pavane pour une Infante défunte (arr. Sean Shibe); de Falla: Homenaje, pour Le Tombeau de Claude Debussy; Mompou: Suite compostelana (I. Preludio; II. Coral; III. Cuna; IV. Recitativo; V. Canción; VI. Muñeira); Francis Poulenc: Sarabande, FP179. Pentatone PTC 5186 670.

Although an earlier release by (softLOUD, on the Delphian label) Scottish guitarist Sean Shibe featured him on both acoustic and electric guitars, this new Pentatone recording is all acoustic, focusing on Spanish and French composers. Not surprisingly, having been recorded over the latter part of 2020, this is yet another album affected by the COVID-19 pandemic. In his liner note, Shibe asserts, “everything on this album has given me deep comfort and sustenance over a difficult and traumatic period. Colleagues of mine have sometimes asked what it would take for me to get over my apparent aversion to the sentimentality of the Spanish repertoire traditionally associated with the guitar. I could, perhaps, tell those colleagues that a global pandemic would do the trick, but I would argue that all of the ostensibly Spanish composers presented here demonstrate the fecundity of the Franco-Spanish connection, and – to go further than that – Mompou, central to this programme, is perhaps more European than Spanish. He eschews all flamboyant piquancy; his homage to Santiago de Compostela instead softly adores, the ecclesiastical overtones never overbear; and, somehow, these pieces sum up pilgrimage at its most existentially humanist. For Mompou, melancholy, aimlessness and a whole host of other feelings are not things to be avoided or fixed or solved, but experiences to be deeply felt; when his music reflects, it is less with sad nostalgia than genuine wonder and excitement at what this means for the future.” As you might infer from the list of composers and titles, this is a set of music that is atmospheric and beguiling. None of the playing here is overtly virtuosic or ostentatious; instead, Shibe employ his skills on the guitar to lead the listener gently into a sound world of calm and reflection that is not devoid of energy and color. (I wonder whether there might be other listeners out there who like me were first introduced to the enchanting music of Erik Satie by none other than the rock group Blood, Sweat, & Tears…) Most classical music lovers are probably familiar with at least some of these pieces from hearing them played by the orchestra or on the piano; to hear them played on the classical guitar will open a new dimension of enjoyment and appreciation.

Jurgis Karnavičius: String Quartets Nos. 1 and 2. Vilnius String Quartet (Dalia Kuznecovaité and Arturas Silalé, violins; Kristina Anuseviciuté, viola; Augustinas Vasiliauskas, cello). Ondine ODE 1351-2. String Quartets Nos. 3 and 4. Ondine ODE 1387-2. 

Jurgis Karnavičius )1884-1941) was born in Lithuania and went on to study first law and then music (under Lyadov, Rimsky-Korsakov, and Glazunov, among others) in St. Petersburg. After the outbreak of World War I he was drafted into the Russian Army, was captured by the Germans, and lived in a prison camp near Vienna until 1918. After returning to Russia (St. Petersburg had now been renamed Petrograd) he became involved in Russian contemporary music. In 1927, he returned to Lithuania for good. String Quartet No. 1 was composed in 1913 soon after his graduation from the St. Petersburg Academy, while String Quartet No. 2 was composed in far different circumstances – while he was in captivity in 1917. The former is pleasant, but at least to these ears, not particularly striking or memorable. The latter seems to have a bit more substance. Both these earlier quartets are easy on the ears; indeed, there is nothing dissonant or “Modernist” about them.

String Quartets Nos. 3 and 4 were composed in 1922 and 1925, respectively. With these two, the music becomes more interesting. The harmonies become richer, the emotional expression becomes more intense, and in general the music seems to be that of a more mature, confident composer with a clearer musical vision. These two well-recorded and well performed discs represent the entirety of Karnavičius’s writing for string quartet, so those interested in exploring the music of a previously overlooked composer while adding some enjoyable string quartet music to their collection now have an excellent opportunity to do just that.

KWN