Recent Releases, No. 39 (CD reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Arc II

Ravel: Le Tombeau de Couperin; Brahms: Variations on a Theme by R Schumann, Op. 9; Shostakovich: Piano Sonata No. 2 in B minor, Op 61; Brahms: 11 Chorale Preludes for Organ, Op. 122 (arr. for piano by F. Busoni) (excerpts) No. 10 in A minor, “Herzlich tut mich verlangen” (My heart is filled with longing); No. 11 in F major, “O Welt, ich muss dich lassen” (O World, I must leave you). Orion Weiss, piano. First Hand Records FHR128.

Ohio-born pianist Orion Weiss (b. 1981) has undertaken a recording project that will eventually yield three releases. My review of Arc I, the first release in the series, can be found here: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/04/piano-potpourri-no-6-cd-reviews.html. In his liner notes for that album, Weiss explains that “the arc of this recital trilogy is inverted, like a rainbow’s reflection in water. Arc I’s first steps head downhill, beginning from hope and proceeding to despair. The bottom of the journey, Arc II, is Earth’s center, grief, loss, the lowest we can reach. The return trip, Arc III, is one of excitement and renewal, filled with the joy of rebirth and anticipation of a better future.” He goes on to give a quick preview and chronological overview: Arc I (Granados, Janacek, Scriabin) from before World War I; Arc II (Ravel, Shostakovich, Brahms) from during World Wars I and II, during times of grief; Arc III (Schubert, Debussy, Brahms, Dohnanyi, Talma) from young composers, times of joy, after World War I and after World War II.

Although the above might seem to indicate that the present release might be quite a morose listening experience, “grief, loss, the lowest we can reach,” such is not the case. Although this is not a collection of lighthearted pieces, it is not devoted to darkness and despair. As Weiss describes it, “this album strives to understand the varying ways composers comprehend grief, loss, and death. How did they cope, their hearts broken, their peace gone? In this compilation of works I have tried to follow the paths these great composers walked in their own grief. Their tracks lead us from death back towards life, from horror to hope.” We may be at the bottom of the arc, but Weiss already has us looking up, which is evident form the opening measures of Ravel’s Le Tombeau de Couperin. Weiss brings a sparkle to the familiar Prelude that makes it sound new and wonderful even if you have heard it so many, many times before in both piano and orchestral guise. To my ear, Weiss seem to let us hear what both his hands are playing, somehow making the music sound more complex and colorful, drawing your ears and imagination more deeply into the music. Perhaps he is aided in this by the engineering, which is superb. In any event, this is a first-class rendition of the Ravel.

Next up is the first of the music of Brahms to appear on this album, these “Short variations of a Theme by Him, Dedicated to Her,” (referring to Robert and Clara Schumann ) as the 20-year-old Brahms called this composition, which he wrote in the wake of Robert’s attempted suicide and subsequent institutionalization. Weiss characterizes it as “a homage to his friend and mentor, a first love letter to Clara and a book of condolences to the Schumann family.” Like the Ravel, then, it is music of varying moods, which Weiss communicates effectively with clarity and precision. The intensity level ratchets up several notches as Weiss next tackles a piece written nearly a century after the Brahms, Shostakovich’s Piano Sonata No. 2 from 1943, which Weiss describes as “emotional, romantic, wild, and raw.” This is not music for the faint of heart, and it is definitely not music for background listening. There are times when both hands are pounding out notes; at other times, the music is just a note at a time played by one hand.  Weiss is well up to the challenge of delivering the emotional impact without taking it over the top.

Like a SCUBA diver returning slowly to the surface to avoid the bends, Weiss allows listeners the chance to decompress by returning to the music of Brahms for the final segment of the program. As Weiss points out, this is not the same Brahms whose music we encountered previously on this CD. “More than 40 years after Op. 9, Brahms was at the end of his life. Sick, weak, worried for the future of music, and bereft of his life-long friend Clara, his music took on increasingly religious themes. These organ settings of centuries-old Lutheran hymns (transcribed for piano by his longtime admirer Ferrucio Busoni) tighten the thread between himself and Bach, between himself and his faith. Brahms’ compositional epilogue dates from immediately after Clara’s funeral; the Chorale Preludes, grieving yet heartbreakingly accepting and courageous, were the last notes he ever wrote.” After the anxiety and tension of the Shostakovich, the calmly reflective music of Brahms, although tinged with sadness, offers emotional closure and peace. Weiss caresses the keyboard in these chorales, communicating hope amidst grief.

Arc III awaits.

Wolfert Brederode: Ruins and Remains

Ruins I; Swallow: Remains; Cloudless; Ruins and Remains; Ka; Ruins II; Duhra; Ruins III; Retrouvailles; Nothing for granted; Dissolve; March; Ruins IV. Wolfert Brederode, piano; Matangi Quartet (Maria-Paula major, violin; Danile Torrico Menacho, violin; Karsten Kleijer, viola; Arno ven der Vuurst, cello); Joost Lijbaart, drums/percussion. ECM 2734  458 1864

Once again I present an album of music that can be seen as a hybrid of jazz and classical, an album for which the case can be made that it can be viewed as chamber music with a twenty-first century sensibility. The back story offered in the liner notes is that “originally commissioned to commemorate the one-hundredth anniversary of the end of the First World War, Ruins and Remains was premiered on Armistice Day in November 2018. Its pervading tone had drawn influence from the melancholic atmospheres of Philippe Claudel’s WWI novel Les Âmes grises, with its world of characters harbouring stark secrets. Over time, however, the suite has come to embody meanings broader and more personal, with wide-ranging resonances.’ At a number of levels, the piece has to do with grief and loss and learning to stand up again,’ Brederode says.”

Although the piece was originally composed by the Dutch pianist/composer Wolfert Brederode (b.1974) in 2018, this recording was not made until August, 2021, and the music evolved over that span. “Calling it an evolving suite gave me the liberty to change pieces and add pieces as we went along,” he explained. As the recording was made, with producer Manfred Eicher taking an active role in the proceedings, new sections were introduced, including two that were totally improvised, Nothing for granted and Dissolve. Brederode’s piano serves as the musical thread that ties most of the sound together, with the strings of the Matangi Quartet adding body and color while the drums and percussion provide sonic seasoning. Musical themes and phrases drift in and out of some of the pieces, offering a loose, almost dreamlike sense of unity to tbe proceedings. The music throughout sustains an atmosphere of introspection, mystery, and reflection; however, it is not without energy, nor is it without shape or form. The final selection, Ruins IV, ends inconclusively, leaving the listener suspended, free to draw her own inferences. The engineering is up the usual ECM benchmark, which is clear, clean, open, spacious sound.

Scenes in Tin Can Alley: Piano Music of Florence Price

Scenes in Tin Can Alley; Thumbnail Sketches of a Day in the Life of a Washerwoman; Clouds; Village Scenes; Preludes; Cotton Dance; Three Miniature Portraits of Uncle Ned. Josh Tatsuo Cullen, piano. Blue Griffin Recording BGR615.

The American composer Florence Beatrice Price (1887-1953) was born in Little Rock, Arkansas. As a child in the South during that era, she was unfortunately rejected by her white teachers, so she received her first musical training from her mother. She showed remarkable musical talent, but because advanced musical training was largely unavailable to women of color in the South, her mother enrolled the 16-year-old Price in the New England Conservatory in Boston, majoring in organ and piano performance (while following her mother’s advice to present herself as being of Mexican descent). There she was taught music theory by the institution’s director, George Whitfield Chadwick, a leading figure of the so-called Second New England School of composers who had a special interest in African-American folk melodies and rhythms. Over the past couple of years there has been a spurt of interest in her life and works, resulting in a spate of recordings, several of which John Puccio and I have reviewed at Classical Candor:  

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/06/new-york-youth-symphony-cd-review.html

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/04/recent-releases-no-27-cd-reviews.html

https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2022/10/violin-concertos-by-black-composers.html

Those recordings are all orchestral, while this new one is a collection of some of her compositions for piano. Like her orchestral music, this is music that is pleasant and downright fun to listen to. In his liner notes, pianist Josh Tatsuo Cullen makes a thought-provoking argument about Price’s writing for the piano. “As a person of mixed Japanese and European descent, I feel a strong connection to Price’s desire to elevate the marginalized people of her own mixed-race heritage in Scenes in Tin Can Alley, Thumbnail Sketches of a Day in the Life of a Washerwoman, and Three Miniature Portraits of Uncle Ned. Price’s treatment of these neglected subjects using the classical idiom is also very powerful to me because like Price, I began studying classical piano at an early age. Some critics have noted that Price speaks in a borrowed idiom, in the sense that she uses musical language reminiscent of Schumann and Chopin, and not a language she invented herself or that derives from the vernacular of her own heritage. But I would argue that this is precisely what makes it authentic to her: as the daughter of a well-trained singer and pianist, and educated at the New England Conservatory, the classical idiom was her idiom.”

Cullen clearly enjoys playing this music; from the opening measures of the title piece, Scenes in Tin Can Alley, the energy he brings to his playing sounds just right for portraying the emotions and characters that Price is trying to sketch in here scores. But neither Cullen’s playing nor Price’s music is all about energy and bounce; in contrast, the pieces Clouds and Village Scenes reveal a more introspective, impressionistic dimension that are the highlights of this well-played and well recorded album.

KWN

Recent Releases, No. 32 (CD reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

LYS: Mari Samuelsen
Program includes: (1) Meredi: White Flowers Take Their Bath; (2) Dobinka Tabakova: Nocturne (arr. for violin & piano); (3) Hannah Peel: Signals; (4) Caroline Shaw: The Orangery; The Beech Tree; (5) Laura Masotto: Sol Levante; (6) Margaret Hermant: Lightwell; (7) Hildegard of Bingen: O vis eternitatis (arr. by Tormod Tvete Vik); (8) Beyoncé: Halo; (9) Lera Auerbach: Adagio sognando; (10) Hildur Guðnadóttir: Baer (arr. by Max Knoth); (11) Hannah Peel: Reverie (arr. for solo violin, strings, & electronics); (12) Hania Rani: La Luce; (13) Clarice Jensen: Love Abounds in Everything; (14) Anna Meredith: Midi (Arr. for solo Violin & electronics). Mari Samuelsen, violin; with support on the tracks indicated by Hania Rani, piano (12); Dobrawa Czecher, solo cello (12); Margaret Hermant, harp, violin, electronics (6); Fabien Leisure, electronics (6); Meredi, electronics (1); Clarice Jensen, electronics, cello, and artistic director (13); American Contemporary Music Ensemble (Ben Russell, violin; Laura Lutzke, violin; Isabel Hagen, viola; Paul Wiancko, cello) (13); Anna Meredith, electronics (14); Hannah Peel, electronics (3); 11; Erland Cooper, programming (11); Julien Quentin, piano (2, 9); Scoring Berlin (1, 3-7, 8, 10-12); Jonathan Stackhammer, conductor (1, 3-7, 6-8, 12). Deutsche Grammophon 486 2096.

Mari Samuelsen’s previous album for DG, titled simply “Mari,” was a 2-CD affair featuring a generous helping of work by contemporary composers plus a couple of works by Bach. You can read my review of that album here: https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2019/09/mari-cd-review.html Although it I must confess that it never occurred to me at the time, in the light of familiarizing myself with her new album it is now glaringly obvious that all the composers were male. To help restore some balance to the universe, all of the music on LYS (“light”) is the work of female composers; moreover, with the obvious exception of Hildegard, all are contemporary composers. As you can see, then, Ms. Samuelsen is vitally interested in presenting new music to the classical music listening public.

Do not fear, however, for all of the music on this album is quite listenable. There is nothing here that is dissonant or aurally challenging. On the contrary, this is music that is uplifting, hopeful, and engaging. Several of the composers provide brief notes about their compositions, this excerpt from Laura Masotto effectively capturing the spirit of the entire program: “Sol Levante was composed while holding in mind Mari’s discography and the way she plays the violin… While composing, I felt I wanted her and the string quartet to enjoy playing this piece, to have fun.” That sense of fun comes through not just on Marotto’s piece, but throughout the 52-minute recording. To hear such vibrant music from young musicians – players and composers alike – makes me feel confident about the future of what we still cling to calling “classical” music. Whatever you might choose to call it, it’s in good hands, folks.

Solus et una: Amit Peled
Bach: Suite No. 4 in E-flat Major for Violincello Solo, BWV 1010; Suite No. 5 in C Minor for Violincello Solo, BWV 1013; Brahms: Symphony No. 3 – Andante (arr. by Konstantin Blagojevic for eight cellos and piano)*. Amit Peled, cello; *Mount Vernon Virtuosi Cello Gang (Nick Pascucci, Natalia Vilchis, Lindsey Choung, Amit Peled, Mairéad Flory, Kyle Victor, Jiaoyang Xu, Álvaro Vázquez Osa, cellos); *Allison Freeman, piano. CTM Classics 95269 15090.  

This is yet another of those recordings arising from the pandemic. Israeli-American cellist Peled (b. 1973) says of this recording that it “is a reflection on my musical journey during the COVID-19 pandemic. As my mentor Boris Pergamenschikov wrote: ‘The Bach Cello Suites is music that cleanses the soul, especially if you ply it just for yourself, preferably without any audience.” As with many of us cellists, I found myself spending a lot of time with the Bach Suites in my home studio during the long months of the lockdown. The two suites that attracted me the most were the fourth suite in E-flat Major, which represents triumph, daring, and heroism – all the qualities I found myself searching for while trying to make sense of the artistic dryness that we all experienced at the beginning of the pandemic. And in contrast, the monumental fifth suite in C Minor, which bubbled up in me about a year into the lockdown when questions about supernatural power, God, love, religion and a search for belonging to something bigger than just us here on earth emerged in me – all the elements one finds in that almost religious most philosophical suite.”

With so many recordings of the complete set of Bach cello suites available by so many celebrated cellists – in many cases, multiple sets by celebrated artists such as Yo-Yo Ma, for example, who has no fewer than three fine sets available to choose from – what is the appeal of a single CD from a less well-known artist that contains only two of the six suites? First of all, not everyone needs to have a recording of all six suites, at least not at first (after becoming familiar with this glorious music by means of this splendid release, they may well decide to take the plunge. If they really want to jump in deep, besides picking up a recording of the complete set, they might also want to take a look at British cellist Steven Isserlis’s recent book about the Bach cello suites).

Second of all, Solus et una (“alone and together”) is in itself a splendid introduction to the suites, with Peled delivering heartfelt performances that are captured in excellent sound. I did a quick comparison of Eled’s performance  of No. 5 with Janos Starker’s venerable version on Mercury Living Presence and concluded that Eled’s version held its own. Again, for the listener new to classical music (or at least to the cello suites of Bach), Solus et una would certainly be a fine place to start.

Finally, Esed offers listeners a bonus: “As an encore track, I have included on this release the one piece that I was able to record during the lockdown with my dear cello students. Teaching during the pandemic, both online and in person, has been a source of hope, comfort and inspiration. Moreover, being able to make music with other people and with my own students was a real musical climax. For me, there’s nothing better to conclude this musical journey than the music of Brahms with its beauty of line and intimacy.” After the intensity of the Bach, the Brahms provides a relaxing change of pace. The sound quality is also different, with the instruments being more distant, the cellos blending into each other and the piano seeming to be a bit too far off in the distance to be completely effective musically. With the cellos not providing the treble parts that the violins would have provided in the original orchestral score, I had hoped the piano would have provided more of that sense, but the arrangement and engineering did not allow me to hear what I had hoped to hear. Still, as Esed writes, there does come through a sense of that Brahmsian beauty of line, even if it sounds a bit muffled. Perhaps I should not quibble about a bonus track recorded by students. All in all, this is a noteworthy release that is an excellent introduction to the wondrous world of the Bach cello suites.     

Enfolding
Scott Wollschleger: Outside Only Sound; Anne Leilehua Lanzilotti: with eyes the color of time. Eli Spindel, Brooklyn String Orchestra. New Focus FCR331.

Although there is nothing about the music on this release that is dissonant or “in-your face” (quite the opposite, actually), I will point out at the outset of this review that this is a CD that is not like to appeal to a broad swath of classical music lovers. However, there are some who may well find it fascinating, so for you folks (you know who you are, or at least I hope you will if you read on for a few more minutes), let me do my best to give you a quick thumbnail of these two compostions. The liner notes are quite skimpy, almost nonexistent, but if you are interested, you can find out more about the music at newfocusrecordings.com.  

There you will discover that “Scott Wollschleger’s Outside Only Sound was written upon request from the String Orchestra of Brooklyn to facilitate performance under lockdown restrictions. Wollschleger was asked to write a work that would require only a few minutes of rehearsal and could be performed outside. His answer was to write a work where each player is like an insect in a swarm; making sounds independently that are coordinated in accordance with time stamps in the score to create a mass of sound that moves in waves across the fourteen and half minute score. Bells, triangles, string harmonics, scratch tones, and cymbals merge with the sounds of an outdoor park, replete with laughing voices and the backing up signal of a truck. By the time the work is finished, one can sense the transformation of the public space into something shared and contemplative.” Well, for pretty much the first three minutes, the predominant sounds on the recording are ambient sounds, e.g., traffic noise, people talking, and so forth, with the instrumental sounds being way in the background. The instrumental sounds move to the foreground for the next nine minutes or so, but never really establish much in the way of melody, not that the sounds are in any way offensive. With about two minutes left, the background sounds begin to take back over. The whole effect is dreamlike, perhaps best enjoyed on headphones.

Anne Leilehua Lanzilotti’s with eyes the color of time, which was a finalist for the 2022 Pulitzer Prize in music, is said to be inspired by a series of works on display at The Contemporary Museum (Spalding House) in Honolulu. Although the notes on the lable’s website describe it as a nine-movement piece, there are only eight movements/tracks on the CD. Go figure. But while Wollschleger’s composition was recorded live in a park (and sounds like it, as described above), with eyes the color of time was recorded in a studio and although still not abounding with melody in the traditional sense, sounds more like composed music.  The composer is able to evoke a variety of moods and sounds from the assembled strings and percussion, especially in the final two movements, titled “mahina” and “enfolding,” which are both more than seven minutes in duration. The latter movement in particular is quite spellbinding, closing the program on a seemingly metaphysical plane evoked by haunting sounds that lead the mind of the listener inevitably inward. No, this is not an album for everyone, but there are certainly some who will find it fascinating.

KWN

Recent Releases, No. 24 (CD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Gustav Mahler | Xiaogang Ye: The Song of the Earth. CD1 Mahler: Das Lied von der Erde (symphony for teneor, alto, and orchestra, text after Hans Bethge’s Die chinesischesche Flote); CD2 Xiaogang Ye: The Song of the Earth op. 47 (for soprano, baritone, and orchestra; text, Chinese poems of the Tang Dynasty). Michelle DeYoung, mezzo-soprano; Brian Jagde, tenor (Mahler); Liping Zhang, soprano; Shenyang, baritone (Xiaogang Ye); Long Yu, Shanghai Symphony Orchestra. Deutsche Grammophon 483 7452. 

This release consists of two CDs. The first contains a performance of Gustav Mahler’s Das Lied von der Erde (“The Song of the Earth”), a work that should be familiar to most classical music lovers. The second contains a 21st century homage to and reimagining of Mahler’s opus by the Chinese composer  Xiaogong Ye (b. 1955), who had been commissioned by conductor Long Yu to compose a new symphonic work based on the same poems that Mahler had used in creating Das Lied. But whereas Mahler created his German text based on Hans Bethge’s German translation of a French translation of Chinese poetry, Ye created his Chinese text based on those same Chinese poems. The liner notes include some observations by Yu about the similarities and differences between the two compositions. “Close comparisons are possible, with people able to see the double picture – how Europeans feel about love, pleasure, and death, and how the Chinese feel about the same things. In this project, you can hear that the last piece of the Mahler, Der Abscheid – ‘The Farewell’ – and the last piece in the Chinese work both purvey exactly the same emotion. [Though not through the same textures.] Mahler creates oil paintings, while Xiaogang Ye paints in watercolour.  But the juxtaposition of these two pieces allows fruitful comparisons.”

As far as the performance on the Mahler disc goes, in all honesty I would have to say that it is satisfactory, but not one for which I could work up much enthusiasm. There are simply too many truly excellent versions available such as Klemperer on EMI, Oue on Reference Recordings, and Haitink on Philips, to name just a few from my personal pantheon (the Klemperer recording, with singers Fritz Wunderlich and Christa Ludwig, is one of the transcendent glories of recorded music – but I digress…) to keep me from making a strong recommendation for this one. In short, it is okay, but there are better versions to be had.

The main focus of interest for this release is the Chinese composition. Here we enter a different sound world from that of Mahler, based on different scales, a different language, and even several different instruments. Still, the overall feeling is not radically different, given that we are still listening to an essentially standard symphony orchestra, even though the language and some of the instrumentation might sound unfamiliar. The bottom line is that although this is not an essential recording, it is certainly an interesting recording. Mahler fans with a special fondness for Das Lied von der Erde might well gain additional appreciation for and insight into Mahler’s achievement by hearing this unique Chinese perspective on Mahler’s original source of inspiration. Moreover, one need not be a Mahler fan to enjoy this fascinating, colorful, at times exotic-sounding new composition  by this relatively unknown (at least in the West) Chinese composer. A word of caution, however: for those new to the world of classical music, this well-engineered two-CD set could well be a gateway drug to mainline Mahler addiction.

Gerber: Sinfonietta No. 1 (Piano Quintet, 1991) arr. Daron Hagen; String Sinfonia No. 1 (String Quartet No. 4, 1995) arr. Adrian Williams; Two Lyric Pieces for Violin and Strings (2005); String Sinfonia No. 2 (String Quartet No. 6, 2011) arr. Adrian Williams; Sinfonietta No. 2 (String Quartet No. 5, 2000) arr. Adrian Williams. Emily Davis, violin. Kenneth Woods, English String Orchestra, English Symphony Orchestra. Nimbus Alliance NI 6423.

As the liner notes point out, “most of the music on this recording consists of arrangements of chamber music pieces by Steven Gerber (1948-2015), commissioned by the Gerber Trust to help make performances of his music more accessible for chamber orchestras, smaller symphony orchestras and string orchestras. Taken together with Gerber’s beautiful Two Lyric Pieces for Violin and Strings, they provide a fascinating overview of Gerber’s development as a composer over most of the last two years of his working life.” That pretty well provides a succinct overview of this release, to which I would of course like to add a few thoughts and observations from my little listening enclave on this side of the pond.

For many music lovers, this is quite likely the first time they have ever heard of the late American composer Steven Gerber, nor are they likely familiar with any of his music. However, conductor Kenneth Woods, a Wisconsin native now living in the UK (who, by the way, wields a mean Fender Telecaster as well his conductor’s baton) has made it one of his personal and professional priorities to record works by lesser-known composers whose music he believes deserves wider exposure. This generously filled (73:07) disc is one of the fruits of his endeavors.

The program begins and ends with chamber pieces arranged for chamber orchestra, opening with Sinfonietta No. 1, an arrangement of Gerber’s Piano Quintet from 1991 and closing with Sinfonietta No. 2, an arrangement of his String Quartet No. 5 from 2000. The former is like a miniature symphony in four brief moments that total not much more than 15 minutes, the first three movements sounding somewhat spiky and playful, the fourth more dramatic. The latter, although in only two movements, is longer at just over 18 minutes. The first movement, marked Fantasy, is bold and dramatic, while the second movement consists of a remarkable set of theme and variations that highlight both Gerber’s ability to write interesting melodies and arranger Adrian Williams’s ability to bring them to colorful life.

Between the two Sinfoniettas we have as the centerpiece the only Gerber work on this CD that is performed in its original form, his Two Lyric Pieces for Violin and Strings, which as you might guess from the title are the pieces which tug most strongly at the heartstrings. Indeed, this is a composition so compelling that I was amazed never to have encountered it before. Violinist Emily Davis plays with heartfelt expression, but never cloyingly, with sensitive support from the strings of the English String Orchestra under the baton of Maestro Woods. What a wonderful musical discovery!

Preceding and following the Lyric Pieces are String Sinfonias Nos. 1 and 2, which are arrangements by Adrian Williams of Gerber’s String Quartets Nos. 4 and 6, respectively. These are more serious in tone than the other works on the program, more inwardly focused and intense. Evidently these were string quartets more along the lines of, say, Shostakovich rather than Haydn or Mozart. That is not to say the Sinfonias are difficult works, or especially prickly, it is simply that they are not as immediately engaging to to the ear as the other works on the program.

The overall sound quality is fine. Tonal balance leans a bit toward the warm side, but to my taste at least is a sound I prefer to overly bright and clinical. I can recall the days when the Nimbus label on a CD meant that it was recorded in “Ambisonic” sound, intended for multichannel playback, and often sounding distant and overly reverberant in two-channel systems. Those days are far behind us, thank goodness. For those looking for music off the beaten path but not too far out, Gerber is well worth an audition, especially the Two Lyric Pieces for Violin and Strings, a heretofore undiscovered gem.

Every Note Is True. The More It Changes; The Eternal Verities; She Won’t Forget Me; For Ellen Raskin; Blue; Goodness Knows; Had I But Known; Merely Improbable; Praise Will Travel; At The Bells and Motley. Ethan Iverson, piano; Larry Grenadier, bass; Jack DeJohnette, drums. Blue Note B003473002.

Pianist Ethan Iverson first came to my attention as the pianist in the iconoclastic jazz trio The Bad Plus back around 2003 when I heaped praise on their major label debut album These Are the Vistas in my “More Jazz Than Not” column in The $ensible Sound. Could that really have been nearly 20 years ago? (I can imagine Iverson asking himself the same question from time to time…) I was less enamored of the group’s subsequent albums and did not think that much of it when I read about Iverson leaving the group in 2017. In 2018, I enjoyed an ECM album he recorded as part of a quartet with trumpeter Tom Harrell (Common Practice, ECM 2643), and somewhere over the past year or two I started following him on Twitter, where I discovered that in addition to his talents as a musician, Iverson has also blossomed into a writer, critic, interviewer, and blogger of note; I would strongly suggest those with an interest in jazz to check out his website at ethaniverson.com.

The moment I saw on Twitter that he was coming out with a new trio album on the venerable Blue note label with Larry Grenadier on bass and none other than drum grandmaster Jack DeJohnette, I immediately pre-ordered it and began counting the days before it would show up in my mailbox. The Blue Note “First Look” promotional video (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aj8JCkxUQdU) ratcheted up my anticipation even higher. When it arrived, though, would it live up to my expectations?

In a word, indeed. I have always been a big fan of jazz piano trio albums, and this one is something special. The opening little vocal ditty, “The More It Changes,” with lyrics written by Iverson’s wife, the writer Sarah Deming, and performed by Iverson on the piano with vocals by Iverson, Deming, and a host of their friends (phoned in), is something I thought would wear on me after a few listens, but the more I listen, the more it touches me. Perfect for the pandemic, I guess. And then we get to the trio music. A few notes from Iverson, a flourish from DeJohnette, and then we are off, and right away there is a sense of a classical music vibe. There are echoes of Bach, but yet it is clearly jazz. As the program proceeds, the interplay among the three musicians is fascinating. None of them is showing off, but each of them is exhibiting mastery. The music just flows out of them. Gradually, the influence of baroque and classical gradually shifts until by the time we get to the final track, “At the Bells and Motley,” we are in blues territory.

Adding to the appeal of the album is the top-notch engineering. It was recorded by Andreas K. Meyer with the assistance of Shubham Mondal at the Clubhouse in Rhinebeck, NY, and is simply one of the finest-sounding trio recordings I have ever auditioned. I have argued before that jazz can be thought of as a form of chamber music; this album is a prime example and I recommend it with utmost enthusiasm.

The more it changes, the more it stays the same
We pass the ball to other ages, it’s how we play the game
You never sing alone when the rhythm catches you
The song goes on when the band goes home
And every note is true…

KWN

Recent Releases, No. 22 (CD reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Arnold: Complete Symphonies and Dances. (CD1) Symphonies Nos. 1 & 2; (CD2) Symphonies Nos. 3 & 4; (CD3) Symphonies Nos. 5 & 6; (CD4) Symphonies 7 & 8; (CD5) Symphony No. 9; Sir Malcolm Arnold in Conversation with Andrew Penny; (CD6) English Dances, Set 1; English Dances, Set 2; Four Scottish Dances, Op. 59; Four Scottish Dances, Op. 91; Four Irish Dances; Four Welsh Dances. Andrew Penny, National Symphony Orchestra of Ireland (Symphonies), Queensland Symphony Orchestra (Dances). Naxos 8.506041.

October 21, 2021, marked the 100th birthday of the late British composer Sir Malcolm Arnold, one of the greatest yet most overlooked composers of the 20th century. Even in the UK, his music is seldom performed in concert, which is a shame. I was going to say that I first became acquainted with his music thanks to a recommendation by the late Harry Pearson of The Absolute Sound, who wrote with enthusiasm of an EMI LP featuring Arnold conducting the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra in Arnold’s Symphony No. 5 and Peterloo Overture, the first LP I ever ordered from England. But that was not, as I now recall, my first exposure to the music of Arnold; instead, my first exposure had actually come many years before, when my father took me to see the film The Bridge on the River Kwai, for which Arnold had composed the memorable score. (The film featured a young Alec Guinness, who many years later I would take my own kids to see play the role of Obi-Wan Kenobi, and would some years after that delight me with his portrayal of George Smiley.) Thanks to Naxos, though, who have decided to mark the occasion of this centennial year with a budget-priced boxed set of his complete symphonies and dances, music lovers now have the chance to immerse themselves in the symphonic music of this most remarkable composer for a most reasonable price.

Arnold had played trumpet in the London Symphony Orchestra; he knew orchestras and loved writing music for them. His symphonies contain melodies and tunes that musicians enjoy playing and listeners enjoy hearing. But no, his music is not simple. It is varied and complex, shifting from mood to mood, sometimes turning on a dime, but never leaving the listener behind. It can go from a tickle to a tear within a matter of measures. But it is always listenable, always colorful, ever imaginative. In a nutshell, the first couple of symphonies are on the bold and brash side, yet not without their moments of reflection. Nos. 3 and 4 are a bit more exotic sounding, especially No. 4., which makes lively use of percussion in places.

Symphony No. 5, the work that Harry Pearson raved about, is often considered Arnold’s masterwork; indeed, it is a symphony that cannot help but make an indelible impression. Its sound is rich and varied, with memorable contributions especially from the brass section, with some trombone parts that will haunt your memory. It is the quintessential Arnold symphony, packed with gorgeous melodies but still managing to be tense, restless, and disturbing under the surface. It is a great work, one that deserves a place in the concert hall. Its discmate, No. 6., is a shorter work (24:41) in three movements, said to be inspired by jazz but communicating a more serious, focused tone than his previous symphonies.

Nos. 7 and 8 are even more serious in tone, but still display that same Arnold sound, that ability to weave phrases and melodies that linger in the memory and tug at the heartstrings of the listeners without ever sounding cloying or sentimental, punctuated with bursts of energy, especially from the bass drum. The opening measures of No. 8 will definitely give both your speakers and your emotions a workout! But then the second movement Andantino will ply on your emotions in a quieter but no less powerful way, setting the stage for the final movement, and energetic romp that by now you will recognize sounds like pure Malcolm Arnold as it shifts gears and moves merrily along. Then we come to Symphony No. 9, Arnold’s most enigmatic symphony. The April 2021 issue of BBC Music Magazine featured an article on Arnold, and displayed his portrait on the cover, alongside which was a teaser that read, “Malcolm Arnold: Was the talented but troubled composer England’s Shostakovich?” That’s the kind of thing you expect to see while standing in the checkout line at the grocery store, and a bit of baloney overall, but listening to the 9th does admittedly invite the comparison to the great Russian composer. Its structure is unusual and yes, Shostakovich-like: three relatively short movements followed by a long (23:10) Lento finale that is serious and brooding. But still, as much as it might remind one of Shostakovich, it remains clearly a work by Arnold. A welcome bonus is the appended interview, in which conductor and composer discuss the work. Much different in mood and most rousingly Arnold-like are the sets of Dances gather together on the final disc in this set. These works are an unabashed delight, tuneful and tasty. It was certainly generous of Naxos to include them here along with the symphonies.

Please rest assured that although this is a budget release, the playing and the engineering are all first-rate. The booklet included in the box gives some background on the symphonies and is prefaced with a reflection about the music and the composer by conductor Andrew Penny. I will confess to being a huge fan of Arnold’s music; I have previously purchased recordings of all of his symphonies (and numerous other works) by several orchestras on several labels, including the individual Naxos discs as they were released during the 1990s. To have this set together in one box, along with the complete Dances (the first time all of his Dances have been recorded together), so well done and at a reasonably low price, makes this set a must-have. Arnold’s music is a musical universe begging to be explored by those who have not yet entered it, and now Naxos has provided the portal key. Enter and enjoy!

Of All Joys. Arvo Pärt (b. 1935): Summa; Luca Marenzio (c. 1535-1599): Solo e pensoso; John Dowland (1565-1626): Flow My Tears (Lachrimae); Orlando Gibbons (1583-1625) Fantasia a 6 in d minor; Philip Glass (b. 1937): String Quartet No. 3 “Mishima”; John Bennet (c. 1575 - c. 1615): Weep, O Mine Eyes; Jacobus Clemens non Papa (c.1510 - c. 1555): Ego Flos Campi a 7; Pärt: Fratres. Attacca Quartet (Amy Schroeder and Domenic Salerni, violins; Nathan Schram, viola; Andrew Yee, cello). Sony Classical 19439936062.

The Attacca Quartet have assembled a musical program of works from the 16th and 20th centuries that flows seamlessly from one musical delight into another, truly testifying to the listener of all joys indeed: the joys of life, the universe, and everything. The disc begins and ends with string quartet arrangements of familiar works by the beloved Estonian composer Arvo Pärt, Summa and Fratres. As with much of Pärt’s music, both pieces have a spiritual dimension to them. That feeling of calm and inwardness carries throughout the program, which is not always quiet and soporific, but in general has a feeling of grace about it. It is revealing to hear how naturally the music of Philip Glass blends so seamlessly into the program. Yes, listeners familiar with his compositional style will recognize that pulsing undercurrent, but they will also come to hear that over 500 years, music still remains music, the tones and the rhythms and the attendant emotions are still there, still flowing, still touching our hearts and minds. The Attacca Quartet’s violinist Domenic Salerni remarks of Glass’s music that “using an extreme economy of means, he creates moments and momentums out of simple whole-number harmonic ansd rhythmic ratios that can leave one feeling resigned and despairing, uplifted and filled with joy, or simply at peace and transported to a place of beauty.” The liner notes go on to assert that “this album seeks to replicate such emotional breadth. And while the textures and harmonies of Glass were a natural and obvious fit, the record is a project that began with the quartet listing off their favorite minimalist and Renaissance pieces, and considering how modern works resonate with what came before.” The end result is an album that should resonate with listeners seeking to engage with the beauty that can be found in simple music with surprising depth.    

Vince Mendoza: Freedom Over Everything. Concerto for Orchestra: American Noise; Concerto For Orchestra: Consolation; Concerto For Orchestra: Hit The Streets; Concerto For Orchestra: Meditation; Concerto for Orchestra: Justice And The Blues; Freedom Over Everything; Concerto For Orchestra: Finale; To The Edge Of Longing; New York Stories (Concertino for Trumpet and Orchestra). Antonio Sanchez, drums; Joshua Redman, tenor saxophone; Derrick Hodge, bass; Jan Hasenohrl, trumpet; Tariq Trotter (a.k.a. Black Thought), vocals; Julia Bullock, vocals; Alexej Rosik, violin; Vince Mendoza, Czech National Symphony Orchestra. Modern Recordings 538668092.

This recent release from the Grammy award-winning American composer, arranger, and conductor Vince Mendoza (b. 1961) features music that hovers in a space that is not quite classical, not quite jazz, not quite film music, not quite protest music, but which blends elements of all those genres and more into a program of energetic and entertaining orchestral music mingled with other styles and voices. The featured work is his Concerto for Orchestra, about which he explains, “My approach is a departure from the traditions of an orchestra concerto. For me, it was more about having an arc that tells a particular story, but also incorporates rhythmic and melodic aspects of African American music and improvisation… Coinciding with the composition of the concerto was the 2016 saga of the election of ‘45’ and the resulting tremendous discord in the U.S. during that time. While writing this piece, the events happening in our country invaded my artistic space. For the first time I felt I couldn’t really write music and be removed from what was going on in our environment.  I started seriously considering the importance of an artist to reflect the times and how I could make my music a reflection not only of what I was witnessing but what I hoped would occur. So that’s when the arc of this concerto started to take shape. I sought to design the structure of the concerto to be inspired by M.L. King’s remarks on the moral universe, that the arc is long, but it bends toward justice. The beginning of the concerto (the first movement is called ‘American Noise’) reflects the discord that began leading up to the 2016 election. Of course, it pales in comparison to what we dealt with in 2020 and now 2021, but the arc of the composition goes through that process of pure noise, much needed consolation and the need for ‘hitting the streets’. The end of the concerto seeks to reflect justice and the hope for a peaceful resolution to what we were only entering in 2016. Arguably in 2021 we still haven’t quite gotten there.”

The Concerto is in six relatively short movements, the longest being the opening American Noise at 9:47, all the way down to the Finale at only 2:17. Between the fifth movement (Justice and the Blues) and Finale, there is a brief (1:27) interlude (Freedom over Everything) featuring rapper Black Thought. Drummer Antonio Sanchez, who has played with guitarist Pat Metheny and other jazz notables as well as leading ensembles of his own, adds a complex texture to the music as he comes in to join the orchestra along with electric guitar and later, the saxophone of veteran reedman Joshua Redman. The music has plenty of drive and energy, even in its less boisterous moments, with a kinetic feeling of motion to that suggests it would serve well as the score for a modern dance presentation.

Following the turmoil of his Concerto, Mendoza then presents music meant to calm, a setting of verse from the German poet Rilke titled To the Edge of Longing, featuring the rich soprano voice of Julia Bullock accompanied by the solo violin of Alexej Rosik and the orchestra. It truly is a beautiful work, flowing and melodic. The program concludes with New York Stories, a brief concertino for trumpet and orchestra that finds Mendoza returning to the jazz-tinged sound of the Concerto. The drums return, and on the whole, there is something of a film score vibe to this music, especially the sound of the orchestral strings. The end result is pleasant, but at least to these ears, not as striking as the other two works on the program. As far as the engineering goes, frequency balance and imaging are fine; however, be forewarned that this CD is mastered at a level that is clearly several dB higher than the norm for classical recordings, so you will want to back off a few notches on your volume control when auditioning it for the first time. You can always turn it up later, and well you might want to for such exuberant music, but better safe than sorry at the start…

Bach: The Art of Fugue. Les InAttendus (Vincent Lhermet, accordion; Marianne Muller, 7-string bass viol; Alice Piérot, violin). Harmonia Mundi HMM 905313.

Although modern scholarly consensus is that Bach’s The Art of Fugue was originally intended by the composer to be played at the keyboard, as with many other of Bach’s compositions, there have been many other transcriptions and arrangements performed and recorded over the years. Although my favorite is the organ and piano version by Glenn Gould, I have also enjoyed a string quartet version by the Emerson String Quartet, and have at times enjoyed and at other times loathed that infamous Bach/Malloch Sheffield production titled The Art of Fuguing. This new release for the unusual combination of violin, accordion, and bass viol gives the music a baroque sonority, yet because of the unfamiliar element of the accordion blending with the strings, there is a freshness to the sound that makes it piece seem new again. No, this is not a CD for everyone, but for devoted fans of J.S. Bach, it is well worth an audition.

Bonus Recommendation:

How Shostakovich Changed My Mind. Johnson, Stephen. Notting Hill Editions Ltd (2018).

Especially for – but certainly not only for – fans of the music of the great Russian composer Dmitri Shostakovich, this brief book of just over 150 pages offers some fascinating insights into his music. It does so not by presenting dry academic musicological analyses, but rather by offering penetrating personal insights into not only the composer and his music, but also into the effects his music can have upon those who listen with real purpose. As the note on the back cover explains, “music broadcaster and composer Stephen Johnson explores how Shostakovich’s music took shape under Stalin’s reign of terror, and how it gave form to the fears and hopes of an oppressed people. Johnson writes of the healing effect of music on sufferers of mental illness and tells of how Shostakovich’s music lent him unexpected strength in his struggle with bipolar disorder. Through interviews conducted with surviving members of Soviet orchestras, through his reading of philosophers, psychoanalysts, and neurologists, Johnson paints a compelling picture of one man’s music and its power to validate and sustain another man’s life.”

Now, that talk of philosophers and neurologists and psychoanalysts might make it sound as if this book might be a dense, heavy read, quite the opposite is true. Instead, Johnson is a skilled storyteller, and he weaves together a number of different threads – his own story, accounts of his interviews, his accounts of some of Shostakovichs’s compositions (including the Cello Concerto No. 1, String Quartet No. 8, Symphonies Nos. 4, 8, and 11) and how they affected his mental health and overall well-being – into a compelling story that is not just about Shostakovich, or music, but about the human condition and the challenges we all face as we make our way through life. Especially fascinating – offering insights both musical and psychological – are some interviews and analyses that reveal some of the hidden messages that Shostakovich wrote into his music, his way of taunting his tormentors without exposing himself openly to further persecution. This is a little volume that can easily be read in a day or two, but with a message that will resonate in readers’ hearts and minds for far longer.

KWN

Recent Releases, No. 16 (CD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Labyrinth: Khatia Buniatushvili, piano. Morricone: “Deborah's Theme” from Once Upon a Time in America; Satie: Gymnopédie No. 1; Chopin: Prélude in E minor Op. 28/4; Ligeti: Arc-En-Ciel, No. 5 from Études pour piano - Book I; Bach: Badinerie – from Orchestral Suite (Overture) No. 2 in B Minor, BWV 1067 arr. for piano four hands (with Gvantsa Buniatushvili); Bach: Air on the G String - from Orchestral Suite (Overture) No. 3 in D Major, BWV 1068; Rachmaninov: Vocalise, Op. 34/14; Serge Gainsbourg: La Javanaise; Villa-Lobos: Valsa da dor; Couperin: Les Barricades Mystérieuses, from Pièces de clavecin - Book II; Bach (after Vivaldi): Sicilienne from Organ Concerto in D minor, BWV 596; Brahms: Intermezzo in A major Op. 118/2; Pärt: Pari Intervallo for piano four hands (w/Gvanstsa Buniatushvili); Glass: I'm Going to Make a Cake from The Hours; Scarlatti: Sonata in D minor, K. 32; Liszt: Consolation (Pensée poétique) in D-flat major S 172/3; Cage: 4'33"; Bach: Adagio from Keyboard Concerto in D minor BWV 974.. Sony Classics 19339743772.

Classical music lovers who are conversant with rock music will be familiar with the term “concept album,” examples of which include Tommy, The Wall, and Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band. These were albums whose various cuts were tied together by some overarching theme or story (the concept) in an attempt to make the album something more than just a collection of songs. With her new release Labyrinth, Georgian-born pianist Khatia Buniatushvili has taken that same approach to this album of  compositions for piano by various composers. “The labyrinth is our mind, memories of our childhood from an adult’s perspective, the past, the present, not the future, for life is an instant whose following one is unknowable, and the labyrinth is life… The labyrinth is our fate and creation, our impasse and deliverance, the polyphony of life, senses, reawakened dreams, the neglected present, the evasive future… the labyrinth of our mind.” For each of the selections included in the album, she writes a brief narrative, starting with this sentence for the character of Deborah (from “Deborah’s Theme”): “At the ruins of her dreams she could see her childhood, which reminded her of everything she thought she should have had from life, whereas in reality it was in her and she had lost it” and ending with (for the Bach Adagio), “If she hadn’t been absent, she would have been walking bare-foot on the warm earth, she would have thought, ‘Someone else’s spring is also pleasant to watch’.” Wait, what? To be honest, had I read through her complete liner notes while still at the library where I obtained this CD, I most likely never would have would have checked it out. Suffice it to say that writing is not her strong suit. Instead, I took a look at the program printed on the back cover, thought it looked varied and interesting, and auditioned the disc without having given the booklet a glance – thank goodness! The musical program is quite satisfying. Many of the pieces are relatively tranquil in nature, and on top of that, Buniatushvili tends plays some them, such as the opening Morricone and the Pärt, at what seem to be exaggeratedly slow tempi. The end result is an album that really does lend itself to relaxation and reflection, although there are lively enough moments to be found, especially in some of the Bach. And yes, the penultimate selection in her program really is John Cage’s infamous 4’33”; indeed, it is hard to top that as a piece conducive to relaxation and reflection. In the end, I find it hard not be of two minds about this release. Part of me (the part that read the liner notes and contemplates the inclusion of the Cage) finds it an over-the-top, overly woo-woo exercise in immaturity, while the other part (the part that just sits down and enjoys the interesting program and beautiful sounds emanating from the speakers) finds it an enjoyable and entertaining recording. Just caught in the labyrinth, I guess…

Francisco Coll: Violin Concerto; Hidd’n Blue; Mural; Four Iberian Miniatures; Aqua Cinerea. Patricia Kopatchinskaja, violin; Gustavo Gimeno, Orchestre Philharmonique du Luxembourg. Pentatone PTC 5186 951.

The young Spanish composer Francisco Coll (b. 1985) has had the good fortune to encounter excellent advocates for his music early in his career in violinist Patricia Kopatchinskaja (born in Moldova in 1977, now a resident of Switzerland), a passionate advocate of new music, and Spanish-born conductor Gustavo Gimeno (b. 1976), who besides his gig in Luxembourg is also Music Director of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra. In his liner note remarks, Coll relates that “in recent years, my development as a composer – not to mention my development as a human being – could not be understood without the presence of Gustavo Gimeno, Patricia Kopatchinskaja and the Orchestre Philharmonique du Luxembourg. Together with them, I had some of the most exhilarating experiences of my creative life. They have been a huge inspiration for me, and my worldview has grown side-by-side with theirs. When my works are on their music stands, I know that something wonderful is going to happen.”  The program on this generously filled disc (80:57) kicks off with Coll’s Violin Concerto, which Coll wrote for and dedicated to Ms. K. In fact, the author of the liner notes, Jesús Castañer, remarks that the work is “intimately linked to the the figure of Kopatchinskaja, not only because in its second movement he quotes his own Hyperlude IV – the work which brought them together –  but also because the whole piece is in a sense a portrait of the violinist; from the explosive fury of the first movement, through the sensuality of the second, to the youthful and unpredictable character of the third.”  OK, then, moving back to the music… Regarding the opening movement of the concerto, when I played it for an old Belgian friend, he observed with a twinkle in his eye, “Ah, mon ami, surely that is the fiddling most energetic, n'cest pas?” Far be it from me to argue with the world’s greatest detective: the opening movement truly is a whirlwind of virtuosic energy. The second movement starts off more slowly and mysteriously, but builds in intensity, ending with a cadenza for the violin. The third and final movement opens dramatically and features some significant contributions from the percussion section. Hidd’n Blue is a brief (4:44) piece for orchestra that features some colorful ideas (no pun intended) expressed in some fluttering sounds that come to an abrupt ending. Mural was written for a large orchestra and is a longer composition (24:25) of five movements. From the rhythmic, at times even manic opening moment, the more ordered second movement, through the more brooding, almost dreamlike third movement that gives way to the more energetic fourth movement –  which still has is its dreamy moments, to the finale, which starts moodily, proceeds in waves, builds in energy and then finally fades away, this truly is a restless piece overall, never feeling settled or static. The Four Iberian Miniatures for violin and chamber orchestra are something of a tongue-in-cheek romp, alluding to Spanish dance rhythms but never quite in  a straightforward way. The mood is capricious and energetic – I can imagine the players smiling as they play their way through these 13 minutes of breathless whimsy. The program closes with Aqua Cinerea, Coll’s Opus 1. It is marked in the program as being composed from 2005-2019, which I presume means it was originally composed in 2005 and then touched up a bit in 2019. To my ears at least, it is the weakest piece here, never really coming into focus. It starts in the strings, then along comes  percussion, then lower brass –  there is plenty of orchestral color, lots of interesting sounds, but things just never quite seem to cohere. To be fair, maybe they are actually not supposed to, and I am simply missing the point of the piece. In any event, even if you do not find this final cut to be enjoyable, that still leaves more than 70 minutes of rewarding music on this well-engineered disc, which is certainly a darned good deal. Besides, many listeners might enjoy Aqua Cinerea more than I did. And hey, I did not actively dislike it, I just found it to be one of those pieces that simply did nothing for me. Your mileage may vary. This is a release that highlights a young contemporary composer with a bright future ahead of him; it is well worth an audition.

Bayou: Thomas Strønen, drums/percussion; Ayumi Tanaka, piano; Marthe Lea, clarinet/voice/percussion. ECM 2633 072 4298.

This is another of those adventurous ECM albums that resides in that zone where jazz, chamber music, folk music, and musical imagination combine, create, and captivate. Norwegian drummer Thomas Strønen has appeared on numerous previous recordings for ECM and other labels both as sideman and leader. Ayumi Tanaka is a Japanese pianist and composer who resides in Norway and often works with Norwegian musicians, while Marthe Lea is a Norwegian clarinetist and singer who leads a jazz quintet, sings Norwegian folk music, and has studied Indian classical music. They have come together on this album to record music born from spontaneous improvisation and interaction rather than from composition. Other than the opening title cut, Bayou, derived from a Norwegian folk song and sung by Lea, briefly reprised later on the album as Bayou II, the rest of the selections were mixed down from music the trio recorded spontaneously in one studio session. The music is spare, haunting, probing, and utterly fascinating. The liner pictures show the musicians during the session, and especially startling to see is the huge drum that forms part of Strønen’s setup. Its impressive bass note provides a firm sonic underpinning to the music from time to time, but is never used for mere effect. As huge as it is, it never draws more attention to itself than the brushes Strønen draws gently over his snare. Piano, clarinet, and percussion gently interact with each other, weaving a spell that seduces and enchants. This is a beguiling release that merits repeat listening to reveal more of its hidden charms.

KWN

Recent New Releases, No. 9 (CD Mini-Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Albores: Dino Saluzzi, bandoneon. ECM 2638 774 7754.

Dino Saluzzi (b. 1935) is a master of the bandoneon, an accordion-like instrument most often associated with the tango. However, the music on Albores, consisting of nine compositions by Saluzzi, is not tango music, as we can infer from a glance at the back cover. The title of the first track, Adiós Maestro Kancheli, is a reference to Georgian composer Giya Kancheli (1935-2019), whose music was sprawling, eruptive, disruptive, and highly charged. Saluzzi’s dedication reads: “Dear Maestro and friend, your wonderful music will always remain with me. It was a great honor to get to know you.” This and the other eight compositions on Albores are in a serious, probing, deeply reflective vein, drawing the listener in as if listening to an intense movement from a late Beethoven string quartet or Schubert piano sonata. Saluzzi is not dashing off tunes for mere entertainment, but making music for contemplation and aesthetic uplift. Beautiful, inspiring music; however, every rose has its thorn – the sound of the bandoneon, while rich and complex in its own way, also includes clicking and popping from the keys and buttons that may cause you to think your CD player is mistracking at times. If you can get past that, you will be richly rewarded.

Arvo Pärt: Miserere. Which Was the Son of…; Festina lente; Tribute to Caesar; Sequentia; The Deer’s Cry; Miserere; And I Heard a Voice…. Howard Arman, Chor des Bayerischen Rundfunks; Münchner Rundfunkorchester; oestereichisches ensemble fuer neue music. BR Klassik 900527.

One of the consolations of having to spend so much time at home because of the pandemic has been the opportunity to have more time to enjoy beautiful recordings such as this. The choral music of Estonian composer Arvo Pärt (b. 1935) is always a joy to hear, and especially so when it is so expertly performed and recorded as it is on this new collection featuring the Bavarian Radio Chorus. And speaking of the pandemic, the liner notes explain the ‘Happy Birthday, Arvo Pärt!’ was the title of the first choir subscription concert of the 2020/21 season, at which Pärt’s 85^th birthday was to have been celebrated – with the composer himself actually present. Indeed, it could have been a double birthday, since the Bavarian Radio Chorus is also celebrating its 75^th anniversary. But everything turned out differently. Arvo Pärt stayed at home, as did the concert audience. The singers and their artistic director Howard Arman remained at their posts, albeit with the respectful social distancing required by the coronavirus. Also on hand behind their glass screens, were the sound engineer and his team, who recorded a significant part of the present CD edition.” Although it may have been a big disappointment not to have a live concert, in the end we music lovers at home have ended up being the beneficiaries, as the resultant recording, with all but the performance of Miserere being captured in studio settings rather than live concert performances, are extremely well recorded, making this release a sonic as well as musical delight. The excellent liner booklet that includes texts makes this a first-class release in every respect.

Glass: Les Enfants Terribles; Etudes Nos. 17 and 20. Katia and Marielle LaBéque, piano. Deutsche Grammophon 4855097.

Katia (b. 1950) and Marielle (b. 1952) Labèque are French sisters who have been making recordings and performing for more than five decades across a variety of genres, even including a stint with jazz guitarist John McLaughlin, with whom Katia was romantically linked for several years in the 1980s. The sisters  have played jazz, baroque, ragtime, and both mainstream and contemporary classical music. In 2005, they performed the world premiere of Philip Glass’s Double Concerto for two pianos, which the composer dedicated to the sisters. More recently, Glass requested that his longtime collaborator and arranger Michael Riesman put together a two-piano suite based on Glass’s opera Les Enfants Terribles. Those familiar with the music of Philip Glass know that he falls into the “minimalist” camp; however, this suite for two pianos is in places boisterous, dramatic, and exciting, played with flair and power, while at other times reflective and brooding, played with sensitivity and finesse. For a video glimpse of the sisters playing this music, you can catch a glimpse here. The program is rounded out with solo performances by Marielle of Glass’s Etude No. 17 and Katia of his Etude No. 20. The former is charming, expressive – Glass’s piano music shows him at his best – while the latter seems to reveal another dimension of expression that transcends minimalism, Glass’s music extending into another dimension and bringing the listener along for the ride.  

Songs from Home: Fred Hersch, piano. Palmetto PM2197.

This is another of those musical efforts that in some respects we owe to the COVID-19 pandemic. Jazz pianist Fred Hersch recorded this solo piano album in his own home on his own piano and is now sharing it with us for our enjoyment while we are still trying to get the upper hand in our ongoing battle with the coronavirus. This truly is an entertaining collection of music both familiar, with renditions of tunes including but not limited to  “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly,” “Wichita Lineman,” Joni Mitchell’s “All I Want,” and an original by Hersch. The piano he uses is not perfect, but the resultant sound just adds to the personal feel. The music is familiar, although played with a personal flair, and the overall feeling is one of great intimacy and direct communication. I played it one evening when my wife was at home, and from the other room she commented, “that CD you’re playing makes me feel like we are having a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant with a really good piano player taking requests and making sure everybody is having a memorable evening. That’s really nice – who is it?” Yes, Songs from Home truly is a feel-good CD, and by the time you get to the final cut, “When I’m Sixty-four,” you will have had a memorable listening experience thanks to the musical mastery and communicative spirit of Maestro Hersch.

Vida Breve: Bach/Busoni: Chaconne from Partita No 2 in D minor BWV 1004; Chopin: Piano Sonata No. 2 in B flat minor; Liszt: Funérailles from Harmonies poétiques et religieuses; Bagatelle sans tonalite; Busoni: Kammer-Fantasie über Carmen; Hough: Piano Sonata No. 4 ‘Vida Breve’: Traditional/Hough: Arirang. Steven Hough. Piano. Hyperion CDA68260.

As you might be led to infer by the titles of the CD itself and some of the selections, and the inclusion of the Chopin funeral march, this program by British pianist Stephen Hough is not all sweetness and light. That said, there is beauty to be found here, in the music, the playing, and in the recorded sound, which is a bit on the distant but warm side, which seems just right for the reflective mood that Hough seems to be inviting us to enter as we contemplate one of the bedrock certainties of life, as he explains: “People are often reluctant to talk about death… but in the world of the arts – in painting, literature, and music – death has always been a central subject resulting in the most exalted and inexhaustible expression, the image of a dead man hanging on a cross arguably the fundamental icon of Western culture… On this recording I wanted to explore some pieces that have this theme as part of their identity or inspiration.” But no, you do not have to ponder your mortality as you listen to this recording, for this is beautiful music that can be enjoyed for what it is, beautiful music, beautifully performed and recorded, bringing joy to your life for 78 beautiful minutes.   

Villa-Lobos: Choral Transcriptions. Mendelssohn: Lieder ohne Worte, Book 2-No.9 in E major; Bach: Prelude and Fugue No. 8 in E flat minor/D sharp minor BWV 853; Schumann: Traumerei; Bach: Fugue No. 1 in C major, BWV 846; Schubert: Ständchen; Bach: Fugue No. 21 in B flat major, BWV 866; Chopin: Waltz No. 7 in C sharp minor; Bach: Prelude No. 22 in B flat minor, BWV 867; Rachmaninov: Prelude in C sharp minor; Bach: Prelude no. 14 in F sharp minor, BWV 883; Massenet: Élégie; Bach: Fugue No. 5 in D major, BWV 874; Beethoven: Piano Sonata No. 8 ‘Pathétique’ – II. Adagio cantabile; Villa-Lobos: Bachianas Brasileiras No. 9 (version for choir). Valentina Peleggi, São Paulo Symphony Choir. NAXOS 8.574286.

From 1933 to 1935, Brazilian composer Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887-1959) created a number of transcriptions of classical music compositions by other composers in arrangements for a cappella choir, especially of the Preludes and Fugues from Bach’s The Well-Tempered Clavier. As you can see from the selections listed above, this recording by the São Paulo Symphony Choir under the direction of Italian conductor Valentina Peleggi places an emphasis on the latter, with a number of Bach selections seasoned with some selections by other familiar figures, and ending with a choral version of one of Villa-Lobos’s own Bach-inspired compositions, his Bachianas Brasileiras No. 9, which the composer dedicated to American composer Aaron Copland. Most of the arrangements are for wordless choir; only the Schubert and the Massenet selection feature lyrics, which are presented in the liner booklet. Although some readers might be led to think of something like the old Swingle Singers recordings of Bach, this is something much different, as the choir is much larger and the arrangements are much more complex and nuanced than those of the Swingles (not to knock them, they were great fun). Having the Bach arrangements run as a thread throughout the program gives it weight and body, while having the other arrangements provides variety and color. Hearing a melody with which you are familiar from having heard on the piano (for me, it was the Rachmaninov Prelude in C sharp minor) sung by this large choir is a transcendent moment, sure to bring a shiver and a smile. This is a truly delightful recording that should appeal to a wide variety of music lovers. The recording quality is just fine, offering a sense of space without the overly resonant muddiness that mars some choral releases.  

KWN

Stretching the Symphony (CD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

At least for me, the symphony is the pinnacle of orchestral music. Yes, there are wonderful tone poems, overtures, ballets, concertos, incidental music, and such, but by golly, the symphony is where it’s at. Although symphonies come in many shapes and sizes, most classical music fans tend to think of the typical symphony as having four movements: an opening movement set in sonata form; a brief, often lighthearted scherzo; a slow movement, more serious, reflective, perhaps even somber; and then a finale that ramps up the energy level and often builds to some sort of rousing finish. Throughout the piece, the listener feels as if she is being led along some more or less clearly defined tonal path, with perhaps some twist and turns but never a sense of being lost. The musical journey is comfortable, largely because it is so familiar. Four movements, clearly defined format, familiar sounds…

What we have here are two striking symphonies that stretch the usual form of the symphony, one by a very well-known composer and the other by a composer of whom many classical music fans have never heard. One is unusual in having five movements, the other is all in one movement. Both are large-scale, intense, emotionally demanding works that are the antithesis of hummable background music. Rest assured, however, that neither work employs extreme dissonance or other such sonic shenanigans to assault the senses. Yes, they are demanding works, but they both can be rewarding to the listener with the patience and ambition to give them a fair hearing.

Mahler: Symphony No. 10 (Performing version by Deryck Cooke). Osmo Vänskä, Minnesota Orchestra. BIS-2396 SACD.

It must be said at the outset that even to call this a recording of Mahler’s Symphony No. 10 is in itself a bit of a stretch. Only the opening Adagio movement was actually completed by Mahler before his death in 1911, and several noted Mahler conductors such as Bernstein, Solti, Abravanel, and Haitink would perform only that movement, which, by the way, is a powerful musical statement fully capable making a powerful musical statement all by itself over its 20+ minutes. Since then, several composers have taken it upon themselves to “complete” the symphony, expanding upon the sketches that Mahler left behind. I have over the years listened to several of these versions and have come to two conclusions. First, more often than not, I am content to listen to the first movement Adagio on its own, the movement that was completed by Mahler himself and is left by and large largely untouched throughout the various performing editions of the work by various composers and conductors. Second, of the various versions out there, my preferred version is the one employed on this recording, that by the late Mahler scholar Deryck Cooke (1919-1976). As the liner notes point put, “Cooke repeatedly insisted that his meticulously produced edition (used for the present recording) was not a ‘completion’ of the symphony (something which only Mahler would ever have been able to accomplish), but rather a functional presentation of the materials as Mahler left them, rendered performable in the full knowledge that Mahler would likely have made many revisions to the score on the way to its ultimate completion.”

In the past, I have enjoyed some fine recordings of Cooke’s completion, including an older and now largely forgotten but nonetheless excellent version by Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra, Eliahu Inbal conducting the Frankfurt Radio Symphony, and more recently, Thomas Dausgaard with the Seattle Symphony. And now we have this fine new version by the Minnesota Orchestra under the baton of Osmo Vänskä, whose previous BIS recording of Mahler’s Symphony No. 7 was highly regarded in Classical Candor by both JJP and me. Like that previous recording, this new release is both splendidly played and splendidly recorded (I listened to the CD and two-channel SACD layers; there is also a 5.0 surround layer). Vänskä tends towards slower tempos and less exuberant peaks of volume in some of the big climaxes; the net result is an impression of great transparency, but at times, especially in the opening Adagio, I found myself missing the sense of urgency that conductors such as Chailly, Bernstein, and Dausgaard have elicited from the score. Nevertheless, for the work as a whole, this new BIS release is as fine a version as you will find on the market. It is probably the best recommendation possible for those listeners who are coming to this work for the first time, for it presents what is arguably the most responsible representation of Mahler’s unfinished score in an interpretation and performance that brings out every phrase without exaggeration or editorializing, all presented in state-of-the-art-sound by the BIS recording team.

Christopher Tyler Nickel: Symphony No. 2. Clyde Mitchell, Northwest Sinfonia. AVIE AV2456.

My guess would be that most readers of this blog are unfamiliar with the music of Canadian compost Christopher Tyler Nickel (b. 1978). I will readily confess that I had never heard of neither composer Nickel, conductor Mitchell, nor the Northwest Sinfonia before reading the press release for this recording. From the booklet included with the CD we learn that Nickel has composed not just for the concert hall, but also for film and television (who knows, we may well have previously heard some of his music without even realizing it…). Mitchell has conducted orchestras throughout the world and is a frequent guest conductor at orchestras throughout Canada as well as being an active promoter of music education. The Northwest Sinfonia is a recording orchestra, a kind of “all-star” ensemble (along the lines of the English Sinfonia, which has made some fine recordings of recently reviewed in Classical Candor here and here) that draws together musicians from the Seattle, Vancouver, Oregon, San Francisco, and other orchestras as circumstances permit to record in the St. Thomas Chapel at Bastyr University in Kenmore, WA. The engineers have done an excellent job of recording the orchestra in this venue, the resulting sound quality being full-range, recorded a bit closer than we have begun being accustomed to in this age of so many live concert recordings, which this is not.

Having now listened to the Nickel Symphony No. 2 numerous times and having come to enjoy and appreciate it more and more with each listening, I hope I can persuade at least some of our good readers to likewise make their acquaintance with these talented folks though this compelling recording of an intensely focused and powerful 53-minute work. A line on the back cover of the CD case sums up the symphony as “a “vast, deep, emotionally demanding work.” and I would have to say that I pretty much agree with that assessment. In many ways I find it reminiscent of some of the brooding movements of Shostakovich, such as the opening movements of his Symphonies Nos. 8 and 10. That is not so much to say that Nickel sounds musically like some kind of clone of the Russian master, but rather that this work brings the listener into that same kind of, yes, vast and deeply involving emotional soundworld. With a total time a mere one second shy of 53 minutes, that single movement is marked “Grave - Andante - Grave - Mysterioso - Fatalistically - Grave.”  That might make it sound as though this is depressing music; however, that is not the case. Serious music, yes, but not depressing. There are motifs that recur throughout the work in various instrumental guises with varying levels of emphasis and emotional intensity. All sections of the orchestra get their chance to contribute, but the work sounds like an organic whole, all of one piece, rather than a parade of virtuoso exhibitions. Although it in a sense serves as a fine showcase for the orchestra, it in no sense sounds like a concerto for orchestra. In the end, listening to it is a rewarding experience, and although it is an intense experience, it can be an uplifting, energizing experience. A stretching experience, if you will.

KWN