Intermezzo: Works of Michele Mangani (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Mangani: Executive; Pagina d’Album; Intermezzo; Astor Piazzolla: Tango Étude No. 3 (Arr. Mangani); Mangani: Love Theme; Dancing Doll; Ave Maria; Tre Danze Latine for Clarinet and Piano – I. Contradanza II. Vals Criolio III. Chorinho; Dreaming; Theme for Clarinet; Andante Malinconico; Souvenir. Seunghee Lee, clarinet; Manhattan Chamber Players; Steven Beck, piano. Musica Solis MS202408

 

As Ry Cooder once sang on his treasurable album Paradise and Lunch (well, not really, but it was awfully close), “oh, I’m a fool for a clarinet.” And yes, folks, I really am. I played the clarinet myself, long ago and not particularly well. However, when played by a skilled clarinetist such as Seunghee Lee, I can hardly imagine a sweeter instrumental sound. Lee, who was born in Seoul, South Korea, but who moved at the age of nine to the Chicago area with her family, presents here an engaging program featuring the music of the Italian composer Michele Mangani (b. 1966), someone whose music that has long held an attraction for the clarinetist, perhaps because Mangani is not only a composer, and a conductor, but also a clarinetist himself. He currently resides in Urbino, Italy.

 

Ms. Lee also has other talents beyond the clarinet. 
She collaborated with the noted author Deepak Chopra on his album and book: HOME: Where Everyone is Welcome, a collection of poems and songs inspired by a diverse group of immigrants. She is also a talented golfer, known as “Sunny Kang,” in the golf world. She has been featured in HK Golfer Magazine and has spoken at TEDx Hong Kong about the surprising similarities between golf and music and the mental challenges of viewing both skills through the lens of a perfectionist. 

 

A good introduction to the music to be found on this release can be found in this video introduction to the album by Ms. Lee herself. In it, she remarks that one of the features of Mangani’s music that draws her to it is that it allows her to feel as though she is able to sing through her clarinet. Indeed, Mangani’s music has an expressive, melodic, sweet quality to it that is entertaining but not cloying. The program is divided roughly into halves; from the opening Executive (a performance of which you can view here) through Ave Maria, Ms. Lee is accompanied by the strings of the Manhattan Chamber Players, while the remainder of the program finds Ms. Lee accompanied by the piano of Steven Beck. Included in the first half of the program is the one composition – Astor Piazzolla’s Tango Étude No. 3 – that is not by Mangani himself, but in his arrangement, it fits right in. A particular highlight of the latter collaboration is Andante Maliconico, with its simple but sincere melody played with a full, rich, steady tone by Ms. Lee. All in all, Intermezzo is one of the most pleasant releases to cross my path in quite some time. Highly recommended to those who love melody.

New Releases, No. 33 (CD reviews)

Prism IV: Danish String Quartet. Bach: Fugue in G minor, BWV 861; Beethoven: String Quartet No. 15 in A minor op. 132;  Mendelssohn: String Quartet No. 2 in A minor op. 13. Danish String Quartet (Frederik Øland, violin; Rune Tonsgaard Sørensen, violin; Asbjørn Nørgaard, viola; Fredrik Schøyen Sjölin, cello). ECM New Series 2564.

By Karl W. Nehring

My first encounter with the late string quartets of Beethoven – which was also my first encounter with string quartets, period (I had heard the were the pinnacle of the string quartet repertoire, and figured I might as well start with the very best, right?) – was a box set of LPs by the Yale Quartet on the Vanguard label that I picked up at a discount sale price during my last term as an undergraduate student. I was, as we often said in those days, “blown away” by the music emanating from my then-new Polk Audio Monitor 10s. I was simply amazed that anyone could write music like that, music that seemed to have come from some realm beyond mere human comprehension. My respect for Beethoven, already considerable, expanded exponentially. A day or two after purchasing the set, in fact, I stayed up all night writing papers for a couple of my philosophy classes, playing the late quartets of Beethoven over and over and over again. What greater philosophical inspiration could a young man hope for, I ask you?

Over the decades since I have listened to many and owned several sets of the late quartets on CD (the Yale, Emerson, Takács, and Tokyo box sets remain on my CD rack). Now in my later years I have suddenly found myself being taught a revelatory lesson by about the late quartets by a relatively young string quartet, and I must confess that it took me until their fourth lesson to finally “get it.”

As the statement on the back cover of this and each of the three preceding volumes of their “Prism” series of ECM New Series releases has stated: “Lines of connection are drawn in the Danish String Quartet’s five Prism volumes from a Bach fugue through one of the late Beethoven quartets to the music of a subsequent composer.” Although I had listened to two of the of previous three releases from this ECM “Prism” series by the Danish String Quartet, one a few times, the other just once (and cursorily, at that, I will admit, having not quite “gotten” the first), the “line of connection” never connected with me. This time, however: POW!

For whatever reason, from the opening notes of the Bach fugue from the Well Tempered Clavier, arranged for string quartet by Emanuel Aloys Förster, I felt the spirit of the late quartets. As the young Danes moved from Bach to Beethoven, the shift of gears was nearly imperceptible. Later, as the foursome turned from Beethoven to Mendelssohn, that shift, although more perceptible, was anything but abrupt. From start to finish, Prism IV is a rewarding musical experience that truly does reveal a line though genres and generations. You don’t have to read the liner notes to appreciate that Beethoven revered and studied the music of Bach and that Mendelssohn of course studied the music of Beethoven, but the notes are informative and helpful nonetheless in filling in some of the details. The engineering is up to the usual ECM standard, rich and resonant.

Corazón: The Music of Latin America. Brouwer: Canción de cuna*; Villa-Lobos: O canto do cisne negro, W 122; Carlos Guastavino: Pampamapa; Manuel Ponce: Par ti mi corazón; Egberto Gismonti: Água e Vinho;* Ponce: Estrellita (arr. by JIJI & Jascha Heifetz); Piazzolla: Le Grand Tango; Villa-Lobos: Pequeña Suite - Melodia; Ondulando; Ponce: Sonata in G minor for violincello and piano; Piazzolla: Oblivion. John-Henry Crawford, cello; Victor Santiago Asuncion, piano; *JIJI, guitar. Orchid Classics ORC100198.

My guess would be (to be honest, I’m often wrong, but bear with me) that for many classical music fans, when they see the phrase “the music of Latin America,” the cello is not the first instrument that comes to mind. Or even the second or third, for that matter. But as fate would have it, in the summer of 2019, the young American cellist John-Henry Crawford (b. 1993) traveled to Mexico to compete in an international cello competition, won first prize, wound uo returning to Mexico many times for performances, and as he recounts, “fell in love with the music of Latin America, the culture, the history, and the Spanish language. This album takes the listener on a musical tour through Argentina, Brazil, Cuba, and Mexico… spanning over 140 years of Latin American music culture.”

From the opening measures of Leo Brouwer’s Canción de cuna, arranged here for cello and guitar, you immediately get the sense that Crawford is out to communicate, not to bedazzle. This is playing of warmth and expressiveness, not of virtuosic excess. The cello/guitar combination also works well on Egberto Gismonti’s Água e Vinho, a dreamily lyrical piece from a composer whose name I best remember from his ECM guitar album Sol Do Meio Dia back in 1978, as well as on the next piece, Manuel Ponce’s Estrellita, on which Crawford’s cello just sings a tender love song, accompanied by JIJI’s guitar.

On the remaining pieces except for one, Crawford is accompanied by Victor Santiago Asuncion on piano. The “big” piece is the Ponce Sonata in G minor. Although it is of course the most formally structured composition on the album, it does not sound out of place, as it has its passages with the same lilt and flair heard in many of the other works herein. And it would be hard to imagine an album of Latin American music that did not include music by Villa-Lobos, represented here by three melodically gifted selections that tug at the heart, or Astor Piazzolla, represented here by two selections. The first is a composition in the style that made him famous, Le Grand Tango, which sounds suitably grand even when arranged for only cello and piano, with Crawford and Asuncion both playing with passion and power for eleven soulful minutes that are a highlight of the album.

Piazzolla’s Oblivion closes the album, the mood being more moody and reflective, the tango here having more of a last dance feeling in an arrangement for 14 cellos that gives Crawford an opportunity to let his cello sing in several registers simultaneously through the miracle of digital engineering. Because I was curious about just how this track might have been recorded, I inquired of Crawford through his PR agency and received his helpful explanation: “Yes, the last track is a cello choir plus solo line that is made up of only my playing layered over itself. The pizzicato replicates the double bass, and required the cello to be scordatura, and then there are three to a part on a quartet plus the solo cello line imitating the bandoneón." (Note that “scordatura” refers to an alternate tuning.) A quick note about the engineering, then, which is by the redoubtable Adam Abeshouse, a name that seems to pop up fairly often on fine-sounding recordings, of which this is an example. For cello lovers and/or fans of Latin American music, Corazón is an easy recommendation.

Brahms: Cello Sonata No. 1 in E minor Op. 38; 7 Songs (arr. Norbert Salter [1868-1935] & David Geringas [b. 1946]); Cello Sonata No 2. in F Op. 99. Antonio Meneses, cello; Gérard Wyss, piano. AVIE AV2493.

Are you in the mood for some more music for cello and piano? If so, let’s take a trip across the Atlantic from Latin America to Germany (or, if you are really in the mood for some fun, travel, and adventure, we could always set sail across the Pacific and then hike across Asia on our way to Europe) for an encounter with the music of Johannes Brahms (1833-1897). Brahms is sometimes referred to as the third “B” of that pop-culture classical music composer trinity: Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms. Interestingly enough, all three of these musical icons composed landmark works for the cello – Bach with his suites for solo cello (I reviewed a recent recording of a couple of these here ???), Beethoven with his sonatas for cello and piano (you can see a review of a recent recording here ???), and Brahms with the two sonatas included in this new recording by the Brazilian cellist Antonio Meneses (b. 1967) and Swiss pianist Gérard Wyss (b. 1944).

These two sonatas come from different periods in Brahms’s career. He began working on Sonata No. 1 in the summer of 1862, relatively early in his career, completing what we now have as the first two movements plus an Adagio movement that may or may not have been adapted many years later into the slow movement of his Sonata No. 2. For whatever reason, he then put the piece aside for three years before writing the finale and deeming it complete in 1865 (publishing it in 1866) with only three rather than the usual four movements. The first movement, however, is quite substantial, longer than the following two movements combined. As a result, this is not a brief sonata. Moreover, that first movement is not only long (14:43 in this performance), it is a musical composition that could seemingly stand on its own as a complete piece, so eloquent and moving is it, especially as played here with such warmth of tone and fluidity of line by Meneses and Wyss. I must confess – without shame, to be honest – that while auditioning this CD for review, I often found myself returning to this movement and playing at least parts of it, especially the opening few minutes, just to enjoy the sheer beauty of the music.

Brahms did not start work on another cello sonata for another 20 years, composing it in 1886 and publishing it in 1887. This work is in the more traditional four movements, with the opening movement again being the longest, but at just over nine minutes as performed here, not as extended as in the previous sonata. One of the things that the attentive listener will notice is how skillfully Brahms writes for both the cello and the piano, giving both instruments distinctive voices. Perhaps the highlight of the piece is the second movement, marked Adagio affettuoso, music that should be able to bring consolation to the most forlorn of souls. Note the way that Brahms employs his familiar device of playing competing rhythms against each other at times to create a feeling of tension, here of course with only two instruments. Hear also how the cello plays at times very low notes, at other times very high notes – all within the same short movement.

Between the two sonatas, the disc is filled out generously (total time is 75:12) with seven songs by Brahms arranged for cello and piano. Among these seven is Wiegenlied Op 49 No. 4, better known by it popular title as the “Brahms lullaby.” These songs contain some lovely melodies, but are played here as serious music, not as pop kitsch. Something that stands out about this release is a sense of warmth, both in the playing and in the engineering. For comparative purposes, I pulled down from my CD rack a Sony recording from 1992 of the two sonatas made by Yo-Yo Ma and Emmanuel Ax. The sound seemed just a bit thinner and colder, and the playing seemed just not quite as expressive – a bit cooler, if you will. For both performance and sonics, my preference is for this new AVIE release, which is definitely a keeper.

KWN

Anne Akiko Meyers: Shining Night (CD review)

Music of Corelli, Bach, Paganini, and more. Anne Akiko Meyers, violin; Jason Vieaux, guitar; Fabio Bidini, piano. Avie AV2455.

By John J. Puccio

American concert violinist Anne Akiko Meyers has always seemed to me to produce some of the most graceful, most sensitive music in the classical world. That has never been more noticeable than in her latest album, “Shining Night.” Here’s a rundown of the contents to illustrate the point:

Arcangelo Corelli: La Folia
J.S. Bach: Air on G
Niccolo Paganini: Cantabile
Manuel Ponce: Estrellita “Little Star”
Heitor Villa-Lobos: Aria from Bachianas Brasileiras No. 5
Duke Ellington: “In My Solitude”
Astor Piazzolla: “Bordel” 1900, “Cafe” 1930, “Night-club” 1960, “Concert d’aujourd’hui”
Hugo Peretti: “Can’t Help Falling Love”
Leo Brouwer: Laude al Arbol Gigante
Morten Lauridsen: “Dirait-On” and “Sure on This Shining Night”

Ms. Meyers describes her motivation for the album coming from a conversation she had with composer Morten Lauridsen, whom she asked if he had written any duos that included the violin. He said he had written a tune describing a man going on a walk and thinking back over his life. She then says, “That inspired this collection of pieces that metaphorically begins in the morning and explores the vast musical history through Baroque, Romantic, Popular, and current genres. The common themes throughout the music reflect on one’s relationship with nature, love, and poetry. And how in dark and challenging times, kindness profoundly affects our souls and opens infinite possibilities when living our lives.”

So, she begins the program with Corelli’s La Folia, written some 400 years ago, and continues through Lauridsen’s relatively recent “Sure on This Shining Night.” Ms. Meyers does full justice to each of the pieces, from the regal elegance of Corelli to the more modern material. In fact, the Corelli becomes wonderfully vibrant in places, alternating with Meyers’s effectively contemplative interludes. The “Folio” was a popular dance of the day that followed a series of diverse variations, all of which Ms. Meyers conveys with equal ease.

The familiar “Air” from Bach’s Orchestral Suite No. 3 never sounded more beautiful, taken neither too fast nor too slow. As with most of the selections on the album, Ms. Meyers makes the music sing. It’s quite lovely, especially when she follows it up with Paganini’s equally lyrical Contabile. Jason Vieaux’s gently sympathetic guitar accompaniment adds to the sweetness of the affair.

We reach the twentieth century with the music of Gerald Ponce, his quiet Estrellita “Little Star” leading the way. It’s a romantic song reflecting the sorrow, pain, and hope of love. Ms. Meyers follows that with an ode to the moon by Villa-Lobos, all shadowy twilight and, again, her violin voices the notes as a singer might, with tenderness and understanding. The music is poignant and evocative; the playing is exquisite. Put another way, the album’s sixty-seven minutes seemed far shorter and for me could have gone on forever.

And so it goes. If you love the sound of the violin in the hands of expert technician and artisan of her trade, you can’t do much better than Anne Akiko Meyers. As I said in the beginning, her artistry is always skilled, delicate, intricate, and touching. She makes every note mean something as few musicians can. In the present album, we hear her at her best and most eloquent.

Producers David Frost and Anne Akiko Meyers and engineers Silas Brown and Sergey Parfenov recorded the music at Zipper Hall at the Colburn School in November 2021. The violin tone is luscious, clean, clear, never edgy or bright, and the guitar and piano accompaniments are moderately recessed to give proper dominance to the violin.

JJP

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. 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

Vivaldi: The Four Seasons (CD review)

Also, Piazzolla: The Four Seasons of Buenos Aires. JoAnn Falletta, Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra. Beau Fleuve Records 605996-998562.

By John J. Puccio

Don’t get me wrong. I have always enjoyed the work of conductor JoAnn Falletta and her Buffalo Philharmonic, and her performance of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons is as elegantly affectionate as any I’ve heard. It’s just that it probably isn’t different enough from the multitude of other good recordings of the piece most of us already have on our shelves to warrant a purchase for the Seasons alone. No, it’s the inclusion of Astor Piazzolla’s Four Seasons of Buenos Aires that makes the album worthwhile.

Italian composer, violinist, impresario, teacher, and priest Antonio Vivaldi (1678-1741) wrote Le quattro stagioni (“The Four Seasons”) between 1718 and 1720. Almost everybody recognizes the four tone poems with their chirping birds, galumphing horses, barking hounds, and dripping icicles. Vivaldi intended the music to accompany four descriptive sonnets, and they constitute the first four parts of a longer work he titled Il cimento dell'armonia e dell'inventione ("The Contest between Harmony and Invention"). While most of us hardly remember the other eight concertos in the set, we cannot easily forget the first four, if only because they’ve been recorded so many times on practically every instrument known to man.

So, how does Ms. Falletta handle all this? As I said earlier, she approaches it with an elegant, refined affection, and the violin solos by Nikki Chooi are beautiful. The entire affair is well paced, not too fast, not too slow, with contrasts, pauses, extensions, and such providing color to each little tone picture. Here’s the thing, though: If you are used to a period-instrument, historically informed performance (Philharmonia Baroque, La Petite Bande, English Concert, Tafelmusik, Boston Baroque, etc.), Ms. Falletta’s account may be about the furthest thing from it. Still, for a modern-instruments rendering, this one is on a par with some of the best.

Nevertheless, Ms. Falletta’s version of Vivaldi is not the main attraction here. It’s the coupling of The Cuatro Estaciones Porteñas, also called Estaciones Porteñas (or “The Four Seasons of Buenos Aires” in English) by the Argentine composer of tangos Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992) that makes the album worthwhile. He wrote the four short pieces between 1965 and 1970 and scored them for a quintet of violin (or viola), piano, electric guitar, double bass, and bandoneón. They are, of course, tangos, and Piazzolla intended them to represent the four seasons in Buenos Aires, the capital of Argentina. But he didn’t necessarily write them to be played as a suite; it’s simply that after completing all four of them, it seemed the natural thing to do, which he often did. However, he didn’t play them in the order Vivaldi did; he organized them as “Otoño” (Autumn), “Invierno” (Winter), “Primavera” (Spring), and “Verano” (Summer). More often, though, contemporary musicians order as they are here: Summer, Autumn, Winter, and Spring. Ms. Falletta uses an orchestral arrangement by Russian composer Leonid Desyatnikov, with violin solos by Tessa Lark. It’s quite the best I’ve heard these works done, particularly the haunting “Winter” selection.

Producer Bernd Gottinger made the recording live at Kleinhans Music Hall, Buffalo, New York in September and October, 2020. Yes, the box says “recorded live” in 2020, during the height of the pandemic. One must assume the audience observed social distancing, so there couldn’t have many in attendance. This is supported by the fact that we hear nary a peep from them, and any applause that may have been there was edited out. Everything is dead quiet. Nor is it as closely miked as so many live recordings are, making it additionally hard to tell it from a studio production. Which I count as a blessing.

Anyway, the sound is quite good. It’s perhaps a tad forward and bright, but otherwise displays excellent detail, with strong dynamics and superb clarity and transparency. While it’s also a bit one-dimensional, without a lot of hall ambience, an extended frequency range tends to make up for it in its own way. So, as I said, it sounds like a good studio production rather than a live recording.

JJP

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

Tangos... & Something More (CD review)

Alicia Terzian, Grupo Encuentros. Navona Records NV6246.

According to Wikipedia, the "tango is a popular partner dance and social dance that originated in the 1880s along the Río de la Plata, the natural border between Argentina and Uruguay. It was born in the impoverished port areas of these countries, where natives mixed with slave and European immigrant populations. The tango is the result of a combination of the German Waltz, Czech Polka, Polish Mazurka, and Bohemian Schottische with the Spanish-Cuban Habanera, African Candombe, and Argentinian Milonga."

That's good to know, as this album, "Tangos... & Something More," offers us tangos new and old, over a dozen of them presented in a variety of styles. Most of the styles, however, are of the "nuevo"  or "new tango" kind, the style popularized in the 1980's by Argentinean composer and player Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992), represented on the program by three selections. The track listings are as follows:

  1. Roggero: "Mimi Pinzon"
  2. Mores: "Cristal"
  3. Piazzolla: "Picasso"
  4. Piazzolla: "Invierno Porteno"
  5. Terzian: "Argentino Hasta La Muerte"
  6. Castro: "Lloron"
  7. Tienssuu: "Tango Lunar"
  8. Demare: "Malena"
  9. Pedro: "En El Bar..Como Un Tango"
10. Terzian: "Un Argentino de Vuelta"
11. Cobian: "Los Mareados"
12. Piazzolla: "Verano Porteno"
13. Binelli: "Llamado de Tambores"

All of these numbers are expertly performed by Alicia Terzian and Grupo Encuentros. Ms. Terzian is an Argentine composer, conductor, and musicologist who formed Grupo Encuentros (Group Encounters) in 1979 to promote new music by Argentine and Latin American composers. Group members on the present album include Mara Blanco, mezzo; Claudio Espector, piano; Sergio Polizzi, violin; Carlos Nozzi, cello; Fabio Mazzitelli, flute; Matias Tchicourel, clarinet; Daniel Bilelli, bandoneon; and Ms. Terzian, conductor.

Alicia Terzian

The first selection, Aquiles Ruggero's "Mimi Pinzon," one of the oldest compositions on the program, sounds quite traditional, romantic and lyrical. The next one, Mariano Mores's "Cristol," shows us the contrasts in tango music, with vocals and background sounds and a less obvious tango rhythm. Then it's back to a more customary tango with Astor Piazzolla's highly melodic "Picasso." But possibly the most bizarre "tango" on the album is Jukka Tienssuu's "Tango Lunar," which is hardly recognizable as a tango so much as a collection of random sound effects and vocals linked loosely together in a semi-harmonic manner. Following that is one of the loveliest of tangos, Lucio Demare's "Malena," so there's a little "something more" here for everyone.

And so it goes. The questions being, are these dance numbers really "authentic," and is the playing "authentic," whatever that may mean? Certainly, the music, new or old, is squarely in the tango tradition, so, yes, it is authentic, no matter how odd it may seem. And, certainly, one cannot question the validity of an Argentinean ensemble playing Argentinean music, and they've been doing it for so long I don't see how anyone could question their legitimacy in the subject matter. That they play so effectively and effortlessly is like icing on the cake.

To quibble about so excellent a product seems unfair. Still, there was one thing I didn't care for; namely, Navona's packaging. The disc comes tucked into the sleeve of a cardboard fold-over case, and it is impossible to remove the disc without getting your fingers on the playing surface. I can understand that maybe the cardboard is cheaper than a plastic jewel box and that many companies follow this cardboard practice, but that doesn't make it a better choice for the consumer. End quibble.

Executive producer Bob Lord, engineer Andres Polizzi, and mastering engineer Jorge Da Silva recorded the music at a private studio in Buenos Aires, Argentina in August 2015. It's a small ensemble they're working with, and they handle it expertly. Each instrument, including the voice on several tracks, is realistically captured in a warm, lightly resonant environment. Although they are captured a tad close up, they have a fairly natural feel as well. Nicely done.

JJP

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

Tango Sensations (CD review)

Alban Berg Quartett. Warner Classics 5577782.

First, one has to understand, as the booklet points out, that there is the "old tango" and there is the "tango nuevo," the "new tango." This is important because it is the old tango music popularized in early twentieth-century Argentina that most people are probably most familiar with. The newer form is less like the dance music heard so commonly in old movies and more like modern concert music, made for performance in refined symphony halls rather than smoky bars and bordellos. Naturally, the Alban Berg Quartett, as refined and modern as they come, opt for the new tango for most of the present recording.

Leading the move in new tango was Argentine tango composer, arranger, and bandoneon player Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992), whom some in his country vilified for daring to modify their traditional music. Under Piazzolla, the tango became more stylized, more rhythmically variable, and certainly less danceable. Frankly, one can understand people's feelings; much of Piazzolla's work is hardly recognizable as tango in the traditional sense.

Alban Berg Quartett

Anyway, he's represented on the album by two longer works, the four-movement Tango Sensations, representing "Asleep," "Anxiety," "Awake," and "Fear," about twenty minutes long, and the sweetly melancholic Tristezas para un AA, about thirteen minutes long. Also in the modern mode is Kurt Schwertsik's Adieu Satie, a five-movement, new-tango reworking of melodies evoked by the spirit of French composer and pianist Erik Satie. Representing the old tango we find Eduardo Arolas, Juan Carlos Cobian, and Julio de Caro, each of whom gets a short work played on solo bandoneon.

The Alban Berg Quartet is augmented by Per Arne Glorvigen on bandoneon (an eighteenth-century German variation of the accordion that has become inextricably identified with the Argentine tango) and Alois Posch on double bass. Of course, the Quartet play these things with authority, elegance, and polish, but personally I still prefer the earthier qualities of the old tangos to the ultra sophistication of the more newfangled Piazzolla-type concoctions. Understanding what you're listening for, this is nevertheless a great disc of its kind.

EMI recorded the music in the early 2000's, and Warner Classics more recently rereleased it. The sonics communicate nicely through their clarity and tone, and the disc sounds especially realistic in the layout of the instruments.

JJP

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click on the forward arrow:

Serenade: The Love Album (CD review)

Anne Akiko Meyers, violin; Keith Lockhart, London Symphony Orchestra. eOne EOM-CD 7792.

Having already reviewed three of American concert violinist Anne Akiko Meyers's numerous record albums helped prepare me for what she gives us here. Certainly, two of the most salient features of Ms. Meyers's playing are her sensitivity and delicacy of touch, so it came as no surprise when she released the present program of romantic tunes, aptly labeled Serenade: The Love Album. It is as lovely as you would expect it to be.

According to my Harvard Concise Dictionary of Music, a serenade in the 18th century was "originally a vocal or instrumental piece performed outdoors in the evening for the benefit of some particular listener. As a title for instrumental works of the period, the term was closely related to cassation, notturno, and divertimento. It may apply to lighter multi-movement works in a variety of scorings, including mixed strings and winds, often intended for soloistic as opposed to orchestral performance."

Ms. Meyers's album concentrates on twentieth-century serenades, starting with the five-movement work titled Serenade by Leonard Bernstein, followed by a number of other pieces newly arranged for the violinist and orchestra. On the present recording, Ms. Meyers plays the 1741 "Ex-Vieuxtemps" Guarneri del Gesu violin, considered one of the finest-sounding violins in the world, with Maestro Keith Lockhart and the London Symphony most ably accompanying her.

The album contains sixteen tracks as follows:
  1. Leonard Bernstein: Serenade: I. Phaedrus; Pausanias (Lento; Allegro marcato)
  2. Leonard Bernstein: Serenade: II. II. Aristophanes (Allegretto)
  3. Leonard Bernstein: Serenade: III. III. Eryximachus (Presto)
  4. Leonard Bernstein: Serenade: IV. IV. Agathon (Adagio)
  5. Leonard Bernstein: Serenade: V. V. Socrates; Alcibiades (Molto tenuto; Allegro molto vivace)
  6. Ennio Morricone and Andrea Morricone: "Love Theme: from Cinema Paradiso
  7. David Raksin: "Laura"
  8. George Gershwin: "Someone to Watch Over Me"
  9. George Gershwin: "Summertime"
10. Ennio Morricone: "Gabriel's Oboe" from The Mission
11. Michel Colombier: "Emmanuel"
12. Jacob Gade: "Jalousie"
13. Astor Piazzolla: "Oblivion"
14. Leigh Harline: "Wish Upon a Star"
15. Sammy Fain: "I'll Be Seeing You"
16. Leonard Bernstein: "Somewhere" from West Side Story

Anne Akiko Meyers

Bernstein based Symposium on Plato's work of the same name, where seven ancient Greek philosophers debate the meaning of love. It's typically Bernstein with one foot in the classical world and the other firmly on Broadway. Under Ms. Meyer's responsive control it sounds alternately tender, lyrical, and dramatic. I'm still not too keen on all of the music, but Ms. Meyers gives it full measure, her obvious virtuosity, meticulous attention to detail, and scrupulous subtlety winning the day.

The popular tunes (in their new, world-premiere arrangements) worked best for me, probably because I'm a Philistine, I don't know. Ms. Meyers shows a wonderful affinity for each of the melodies, gracing each line with joy and love. What's more, Maestro Lockhart and the LSO provide her with as sweet an accompaniment as one could hope for.

The entire album comes across as a single love song, the selections gently flowing into one another as a unified whole. If I had to make a choice of favorites, though, I'd probably pick the two Gershwin numbers for their maturity, strength, and innovation. Nevertheless, it would be hard to make such a choice, and who could not like "I'll Be Seeing You"?

Drawbacks? Well, I suppose some listeners might find the whole thing a bit too sentimental for their taste. They wouldn't be wrong, of course; love songs can be--indeed, one can make the argument that they should be--sentimental. My reaction to such criticism would be, So what? These tunes are what they are, frankly emotional, and that's the way Ms. Meyers plays them, although not in an hokey fashion. Really, it's a lovely program.

Producer Susan Napodano DelGiorno and engineer Silas Brown recorded the music for Entertainment One at LSO St. Luke's, London, in February 2015. The soloist sounds well placed, not too far forward, the violin tone warm yet detailed. The orchestral accompaniment is likewise natural and dimensional, with a realistic sense of air and depth. The sound is lifelike and easy on the ear.

JJP

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

Piazzolla: Tangazo (CD review)

Charles Dutoit, Montreal Symphony Orchestra. Decca 289 468 528-2.

It appears that composer, arranger, and bandoneon player Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992), born in Argentina and raised in America when his family emigrated to New York in 1924, continues to be both admired and scorned for his work in the field of tango music. In the Forties, Fifties, and Sixties, he almost single-handedly resurrected the moribund genre, yet he did so by infusing the traditional melancholy tango with fresh inputs of jazz and classical influences and even by broadening its approach to the full orchestral field. It's here that Maestro Charles Dutoit and his old, ultrasophisticated Montreal Symphony Orchestra take us on this 2001 Decca release. The program is, perhaps, different from the one we might expect, different for these musicians and different for the tango, but it's an admirable and highly listenable collection of music in any case.

There are seven short pieces for orchestra represented on the program, all of them sounding like popular classical music tinged with hints of tango, so it's not exactly for fans of traditional tango unless they have an open mind. The album begins with possibly Piazzolla's most popular piece, "Adios Nonino," which combines a big, robust sound with the more sensuous and heavyhearted aspects of conventional tango. It is also representative of the music on the disc as a whole. Dutoit and company play with conviction.

Charles Dutoit

Following this are the more lyrical numbers: "Milonga del angel," which doesn't sound "tango" at all, and the Double Concerto for bandoneon and guitar, which is perhaps the most haunting of all the selections and the one I fell in love with. Inspired playing by Daniel Binelli on the accordian-like bandoneon and Eduardo Isaac on guitar contribute to a most-enjoyable three-movement exploration of moods.

"Oblivion" takes us again to the slow, heartbreaking atmosphere of "Milonga del angel." Then we get "Tres movimientos tanguisticos portenos," the biggest of the orchestral showpieces, starting leisurely but building up a good head of steam by its fiery "Vivace"conclusion. The last two items, "Danza criolla" and "Tangazo" are the most impressionist pieces in their shadings and temper swings and maybe the most modern sounding in their reduction of orthodox tango harmonies. Together, the music offers an extended and diverse look at a musical form more complex than we sometimes give it credit.

Maestro Dutoit may not seem ideally suited for this kind of thing, but under his leadership the music takes on a dignity and status that is no doubt commensurate with its actual importance. Put another way, this music may not sound as graceful or dignified under some other conductors, so I suppose it's a good thing we have someone like the suave Dutoit performing it. Of course, there will always be listeners who prefer a more orthodox tango approach, and for them there are any number of other good tango recordings. This one takes Piazzolla more into the orchestral concert world.

Decca's sound, as always with this Montreal ensemble, is big and bold, with a decent amount of lifelike orchestral depth and plenty of natural warmth and detail. It's true the bandoneon and other solos appear too closely miked for ultimate realism, yet they display an impact and definition that are still commendable. Although the disc may be well over a decade old, it is still something well worth investigating.

JJP

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

Cameron Carpenter: If You Could Read My Mind (CD and DVD review)

Cameron Carpenter, International Touring Organ. Sony 88883796882 (CD and DVD).

Make no mistake: American organist Cameron Carpenter has enormous talent. Earning a bachelor's and master's degree from The Juilliard School in New York, he studied with organists Gerre Hancock, Paul Jacobs, and John Weaver. There appears nothing Carpenter can't play and play well. Nevertheless, he apparently decided early on that to become a superstar in the world of organists, you had to do something more than merely play the organ well. And so he adopted a punk-rock persona, cultivated a flamboyant style, and helped design an International Touring Organ to his own specifications. The work has paid off: He's now a superstar. At least, he's a superstar among the general public, where his concerts regularly sell out and his CD's fly off the shelves. Whether he can satisfy the organ purist, however, remains open to question, and whether he will be able to maintain a lasting popularity beyond his current glamor stage we will have to wait and see. For the moment, he is definitely a sensation.

Of course, this isn't the first time a musician has purposely set out to create something new and different in the world of classics by promoting a cult of personality: Chopin, Liszt, Paganini, even Mozart had their critics who claimed their music making was more about themselves than about the music they were playing. More specifically, in the late twentieth century, organists Virgil Fox and E. Power Biggs were the biggest names in the business, with Fox insisting that performers needed to take the organ out of the musty depths of church cathedrals and into the imagination of the masses, while Biggs argued that organists had an obligation to play the organ as composers for the instrument intended it be played. Fox disparaged Biggs's clinging to historical accuracy, saying Biggs and his followers were "relegating the organ to a museum piece." Both organists were enormously popular, so I suppose there's room for all tastes in the classical field.

Certainly, one needs an open musical taste to appreciate Cameron Carpenter. But heard on a CD, divorced from the man's physical appearance, one can readily hear his musical gifts and perhaps better enjoy his innovative musical style. On the present album, Cameron plays the music of over half a dozen classical and pop composers, including a composition of his own, mostly in his own arrangements and all of it played on an organ created especially for him, a digital instrument that incorporates the sounds of many of Carpenter's favorite organs and that enables him to reproduce what every organist dreams of: a symphony orchestra at his fingertips. He makes some impressive sounds.

Anyway, Cameron opens the program somewhat conventionally with his own arrangement of J.S. Bach's Cello Suite No. 1. The music becomes more elaborate as it goes along, and Cameron's way with it is, indeed, fun to hear. If I have any reservation it's that further along in the piece Cameron's instrument tends slightly to overwhelm the music compared to the unaccompanied cello for which Bach originally intended it.

Next, we have the most flamboyant music on the disc, Leonard Bernstein's Overture to Candide. Here, Cameron pulls out all the stops, so to speak, allowing himself full rein of the multitude of sounds his specialized Touring Organ can make. Again, though, I found myself with one minor concern: If you listen to Bernstein's own rendition of the work, you may find that even in his older years he actually put more energy and high spirits into the music (check YouTube) than Cameron does. That doesn't mean I found anything inherently wrong with Cameron's version, only that Cameron may be more musically sedate and respectful than you might expect from his appearance.

And so it goes: We get Cameron's realizations of Sergei Rachmaninov's Vocalise, Astor Piazzola's "Oblivion," Marcel Dupre's Variations sur un Noel pour grand orgue, Aleksandr Scriabin's Piano Sonata No. 4 in F-sharp major, Bach's Organ Sonata No. 6 in G major, an original piece by Carpenter called Music for an Imaginary Film, and five popular-song paraphrases. Like the rest of the program, they are equally playful, amusing, serious, and enjoyable as the case may be.

Favorites? I loved the simple beauty of Rachmaninov's Vocalise and Carpenter's delicate manner of handling it. I took delight in Cameron's own Music for an Imaginary Film because, as he says, it gets the most out of the Touring Organ's "cornucopia of color." I found myself fascinated by Piazzolla's soft tango rhythms. There is exquisite beauty as well as excitement in Dupre's and Scriabin's work. And it's hard not to enjoy Bach in any form.

The pieces I liked least were Carpenter's organ transcriptions of songs by Gordon Lightfoot, Burt Bacharach, Leonard Cohen, Bob Montgomery, and Anthony Newley and Leslie Bricusse. I mean, do we really need "Back in Baby's Arms" played on a huge electronic organ? If you'll forgive an admittedly unfair comparison, it reminded me of a skating rink.

So, will Carpenter's music making wear well in the long run, or will people eventually tire of his personal eccentricities? Ask me in another ten years.

In addition to the CD of music, the case contains a forty-three minute DVD of video, with six tracks devoted to Mr. Cameron playing various short pieces, plus an introduction to the performer and a segment on the building of the International Touring Organ. A light-cardboard slipcover completes the package.

Producer Philipp Nedel and engineer Martin Kistner recorded the CD music at Methuen Memorial Music Hall, Methuen, Massachusetts in November-December 2013. Producer Uwe Dierks and director Thomas Grube made the DVD. On the CD the organ sounds moderately distant, with a good deal of hall resonance involved. I suppose this spacious atmosphere helps emulate the live experience, but it means that a degree of detail gets lost amid the room reflections. Fortunately, a good, solid deep bass enhances the experience, as do strong dynamics and a healthy stereo spread.

JJP

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