Recent Releases No. 62 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring 

Something that these three releases all have in common is they all boast audiophile-quality sound. Two of them, in fact, are from labels with audiophile credentials: Reference Recordings and Sono Luminus. The third is from Hyperion, a small label from the UK that although not necessarily known as an audiophile label, has produced some superbly engineered recordings. To be honest, recording technology and practices have come a long way over the past 50 years. Many labels almost routinely release recordings that would have been considered “audiophile-quality” back in the 1970s when the underground audio magazines started touting such things. That said, we sometimes come across recordings that just seem to have something special about their sound quality. Note also that these three are not the stereotypical audiophile spectaculars featuring booming bass drums or huge brass choirs; no, these are recordings of chamber music. Enjoy! 

Spanish Impressions. Enrique Fernandez Arbos: Trois Pièces originales dans le genre Espagnol (Three Spanish Dances), Op. 1; Joaquin Turina: Piano Trio No. 2 in B Minor, Op. 76; Gaspar Cassado: Piano Trio in C Major; Mariano Perello: Tres Impresiones para violin, violincello y piano. Hermitage Piano Trio (Ilya Kazantsev, piano; Sergey Antonov, cello; Misha Keylin, violin). Reference Recordings RR-151 

 

As the three musicians of the Hermitage Piano Trio remind us with their new recording of Spanish trios, it does not always take an orchestra of 100+ musicians playing a symphony by Mahler to generate musical excitement. Chamber music can be powerful, too, especially the richly expressive music of Spain. On this new release from Reference Recordings, the program includes music by composers both familiar and unfamiliar. As the album’s producers explain it, “For the last several years we have been exchanging scores, ideas and developing programs. The trio had been performing two extraordinary Spanish trios by Turina and Cassado—romantic, exotic and lush works. Using these two works as anchor points, we built around them “bookends”—three Spanish dances by Arbos and three Spanish impressions by Perello. All four composers are interconnected to one another through their relationships to each other. Arbos was a celebrated conductor who also orchestrated Albeniz’s Iberia and Perello was a violinist who studied with Albeniz and performed with Granados—both of these gentlemen had close ties to Turina (Arbos conducted many of his works) and Cassado (a celebrated cellist, and next to Casals, among the greatest cellists of Spain).” 

The album draws the listener in immediately from the opening measures of Arbos’s Three Spanish Dances, which are ripe with rhythmic zest. And thus it continues throughout the program – a musical voyage through the Spanish imagination, presented in remarkably realistic sound by the engineering team at Reference Recordings, led by the veteran audio wizard  Keith O. Johnson, a prominent figure in audiophile circles about whom you can learn more here. You can gain some more insight into Spanish Impressions by watching this brief YouTube video in which the musicians discuss the album. This is a recording that will bring a smile to your face and a spring to your step.

 

Mozart: (CD1) Piano Sonata in D Major K311; Piano Sonata in A Minor K310; Piano Sonata in C Major K330; Fantasia in C Minor K396 (completed by Maximilian Stadler); Fantasia in D Minor K397; (CD2) Piano Sonata in A Major K331; Piano Sonata in F Major K332; Piano Sonata in B Flat Major K333. Angela Hewitt, piano. Hyperion CDA6841/2

 

The Canadian-born pianist Angela Hewitt (b. 1958), who now resides in London, was the one of pianists whose album I included in my very first “Piano Potpourri” post, which you can see here. Immediately following the recording sessions for that album, Hewitt received the shocking news that the piano movers who had come to transport her $200,000 Fazioli piano with its custom-installed fourth pedal had somehow managed to drop the instrument, which turned out to be irreparably damaged. Hewitt had made recordings and even played some concerts in Europe with her beloved piano for 17 years, so this was a real blow. However, things have a way of working out; the mover’s insurers covered the replacement expense and Hewitt was eventually offered her choice of five new Fazioli concert grands, from which she chose her new best musical friend. Thus settled, Hewitt has undertaken a project to record the complete Mozart piano sonatas, to be released on three two-CD sets. The first of these sets, containing the first seven sonatas (K279-284 and K309), was released by Hyperion in November, 2022. This new Hyperion release marks the second installment of Hewitt's chronological survey. These works date from Mozart's twenties and include his first masterpieces in the genre (K331, with its famous 'Alla turca' finale, for example). 

 

These middle sonatas of Mozart are simply marvels of melody. Not too simple, not too complex – just right. Bill Heck and I recently talked about the piano music of Mozart, about how it so seamlessly integrates structure and melody. Hewitt’s playing brings out every little nuance, drawing the listener into the music. She has a delicate touch, making the music seem to flow naturally and inevitably from note to note, phrase to phrase, measure to measure. Hewitt has a reputation as a Bach specialist; perhaps her precision in mastering that music formed the basis for her mastery of the music of Mozart. Moreover, the beauty of her playing is highlighted by the recorded sound, which captures the sound of her Fazioli in rich, natural, lifelike tones. With CD1 clocking in at 80 minutes and CD2 at 75 plus informative notes about the music by the pianist herself, there is plenty to like about this production. There are plenty of excellent Mozart sonata recordings out there, several of which I have reviewed in the past, but I’ve never heard better than this one, which of course earns my highest recommendation.

Sonic Alchemy. Vasks: Balta Ainava (White Scenery); Pärt: Fratres; Mozart: Fantasia in D minor, K. 397; Pärt: Mozart-Adagio (after Sonata K. 280); Mozart: Fantasia in C minor, K. 475; Vasks: Castillo Interior (Interior Castle); Pärt: Spiegel im Spiegel. YuEun Kim, violin; Mina Gajić, piano; Coleman Itzkoff, cello. Sono Luminus DSL-92261

 

Pianist Mina Gajić says of this album that it was “inspired by the transformation and fluidity of life, represented by the seasons in nature, and in humankind in the way people connect through religion and spirituality.” In its own way, Sonic Alchemy is something of a spiritual album, but not in the way that a mass or other liturgically-oriented composition would be. The program is a fascinating one, spanning two centuries  to bring together the music of Mozart with that of two contemporary composers, Arvo Pärt and Pēteris Vasks. Icelandic composer Páll Ragnar Pálsson, who contributed the album’s liner notes, writes “Despite the roughly 200 years that separate Mozart from Vasks and Pärt, there are elements that connect them. Similarly to Pärt and Vasks who needed to find a way to deal with the oppressive rule of the Soviet Union, Mozart also made a well-known declaration of independence. He left the archbishop in Salzburg and the financial security that followed and embarked on a path of what we would call freelance composing today. Mozart, Pärt and Vasks all share a deep sense of clarity that crystalizes in music that comforts and elevates your spirit.” 

The program is centered around Mozart. The centerpiece is Pärt’s Mozart-Adagio (after Sonata K. 280), which is actually the only piece on the album in which all three players combine as a trio. It is framed on the program by the two Mozart Fantasias, played by pianist Mina Gajić, who is also featured on the opening track, the peaceful and reflective Balta Ainava (White Scenery). Gajić is joined by cellist  Coleman Itzkoff both for the second track, Pärt’s Fratres, and in a bit of symmetry, in the sixth (and next-to-last) track, Vasks’s Castillo Interior.  On the final track, Pärt’s simply constructed but nonetheless haunting Spiegel im Spiegel, Gajić is joined by violinist YuEun Kim.  Contributing to the deep beauty of the album is the purity of its sound, which was engineered by Daniel Shore and Erica Brenner at the Sono Luminus Studios in Boyce, Virginia, where it was mixed and mastered using Legacy Audio speakers (the same speakers Bill Heck and I use for reviews). Sonic Alchemy is a marvelous album of chamber music, an appealing blend of old and new, familiar and unfamiliar, impeccably performed and recorded.

Stillpoint (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

Jessie Montgomery: Rounds; Paolo Prestini: Code; Alvin Singleton: Time Past, Time Future; Pēteris Vasks: Castillo Interior; Tyshawn Sorey: Untitled Composition for Piano and Eight Voices; Judd Greenstein: Still Point. Awadagin Pratt, piano; Roomful of Teeth, voices; A Far Cry, strings. New Amsterdam NWAM177-CD

 

Way back in 1994 I reviewed a solo piano recording titled A Long Way from Normal by a young African-American pianist by the name of Awadagin Pratt. Born in Pittsburgh, Pratt began studying piano at the age of six. By age nine, having moved to Normal, Illinois thus the title of his first album) with his family, he also began studying violin. At age 16 he entered the University of Illinois where he studied piano, violin, and conducting. He subsequently enrolled at the Peabody Conservatory of Music where he became the first student in the school’s history to receive diplomas in three performance areas – piano, violin and conducting. In 1992 he won the Naumburg International Piano Competition and two years later was awarded an Avery Fisher Career Grant. Now in 2023 I find myself reviewing his latest album (although there have been many between that first one and this one), this time not a solo recital, but a program in which his piano playing is accompanied at various times by the voices of Roomful of Teeth and the strings of chamber ensemble A Far Cry. 

 

The program opens with Rounds for Piano and String Orchestra by the American composer Jessie Montgomery (b. 1981), which she describes as “inspired by the constancy, the rhythms, and duality of life.” Toward the middle of the piece, Pratt uses an EBow to modify the sound of the piano, giving it something of an archaic sound – it is almost like hearing time being looped upon itself. But don’t let my clumsy descriptions put you off; Rounds is melodic, charming, and delightful. Next up is Code by the Italian-born Paola Prestini (b. 1975), who says that she “was inspired to compose Code based on of life’s most fundamental mysteries: the relationship between two individuals.” The opening notes are bird calls intoned by Roomful of Teeth over softly muted strings, then as the piece proceeds, it becomes more like a piano concerto, but then  voices join with the piano and strings, wordless voices longingly lamenting, until we hear distant bird calls at the end. It is a fascinating musical journey.

 

Time Past, Time Future by the American composer Alvin Singleton (b. 1940) has a more direct, exuberant feel. As Marc Rabideau, the album’s executive producer, comments in the CD booklet, “Time Past, Time Future draws Alvin’s inspirations together in one space: stark, sustained octaves contrast angular melodies reminiscent of the bebop era, fugue-like motifs press up against super-charged repeated rhythms.” A slow section from the strings will butt up against a passage that finds Pratt pounding the keyboard; however, there are always defined chords, the music never devolves into mere noise or effect. Should you need to wind down a bit after the Singleton, the opening measures of Castillo Interior by the Latvian composer Pēteris Vasks (b. 1946) should prove to be the perfect calming restorative. Pratt plays this pensive music with a soft, reflective touch that will calm your mind and reduce your heart rate. The work was originally written for violin and piano, but Pratt made this arrangement for solo piano with the blessing of the composer. It is a beautiful piece, one that seems to suspend time.

 

Readers who are into jazz may recognize the American composer Tyshawn Sorey (b. 1980) from his role as a drummer on numerous jazz albums. The multi-talented Mr. Sorey is also proficient on piano, trombone, and assorted percussion; indeed, he is one of the leading musical figures of our time. That said, Untitled is a piece that many may find difficult to love. Roomful of Teeth vocalize chords that are mostly dissonant; not teeth-grindingly so, for the most part, but neither are they endearing. Pratt plays chords and notes on the piano to accompany them, but no discernible melody. This is not music that will drive everyone out of the room – in a way, it does have a certain fascinating quality about it – but it certainly won’t draw many folks into the room, either. 

The program closes with the title piece, Still Point by the American composer Judd Greenstein (b. 1979), who writes: “Somewhere amid writing this work, my first ‘piano concerto,’ of any kind, I realized that a new spirit had entered my process. It was the remembered spirit of the great pianist and composer McCoy Tyner, one of my musical heroes.” The piece begins with lively string chords followed by repeated chords on the piano – you can sense the momentum building. As the music progress, the voices add their energy to that of the piano and strings, making for quite a captivating sound. 

The enclosed booklet contains informative notes on all of the compositions and performers, and the sound quality is excellent. Awadagin Pratt may not be a household name, but he is a fine pianist who has assembled a group of musical collaborators and put together a musical program of contemporary music that is fresh and invigorating. Stillpoint is an album well worth seeking out by those seeking to hear something new and different.

 

Recent Releases, No. 21 (CD Reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Vasks: Concerto for Oboe and Orchestra; Vēstījums (Message) for Two Pianos, Strings, and Percussion;  Lauda. Albrecht Mayer, oboe; Andris Poga, Latvian National Symphony Orchestra. Ondine ODE 355-2.

This new release of music by Latvian composer Peteris Vasks (b. 1946) comprises two older works, Message (1982) and Lauda (1985), plus a much more recent work, the Concerto for Oboe and Orchestra (2018). The program opens with the concerto, a richly melodic work that should prove enjoyable to a wide variety of listeners. Of this work, Vasks writes, “In my view, the oboe is a pastoral instrument – drama and tragedy do not first come to mind when thinking about the oboe sound and its possibilities. Overall, the concerto could be viewed as akin to a human life with its beginning, period of maturity, and departure. However, I would prefer to think of it as something more like a long cosmological day which lasts, say, a hundred years.” (I must say that as someone who is getting on in years, Vasks’s euphemism “departure” is a welcome, gentle touch.) The work is cast in the traditional three-movement form, all three offering passages of great imagination and beauty, the closing minutes of the final movement sounding especially poignant and moving.

Both of the two earlier works are in one movement. Message and Lauda were actually among the first works by Vasks I ever heard on an old CD on the Conifer label that is now out of print (a copy is buried in a pile somewhere in my listening room) and it is nice to have them back together again on this excellent new recording. Regarding the central message of Message, Vask states, “I wanted to talk about how exquisitely beautiful the world is and what we, in our hubris, are doing with it.” That message is expressed through an energetic interplay among piano duo, strings, and percussion. Although you can feel the tension building, Message never veers off into discordant unlistenability. It maintains musical interest throughout its 16 minutes. Lauda continues in the same dramatic vein, but now employing the full symphony orchestra. Of this work, Vasks notes, “Lauda was my form of spiritual protest. It is an anthem to my nation, my culture, the very existence and being of my people.” (Lest we forget, when Vasks composed this piece, Latvia was still under Soviet control.) Once again, this is powerful music, moving and expressive. The Latvian forces play with conviction, and the Ondine recording quality does not stand in the way of the music. For those unfamiliar with the music of Vasks, this new release would be a fine introduction.

Bartók: Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta; Concerto for Orchestra. Susanna Mälkki, Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra. BIS BIS-2378 SACD.

My guess would be that the majority of classical music lovers are quite familiar with the Concerto for Orchestra (1943) by the Hungarian composer Bela Bartok (1881-1945), which he wrote on commission for the Boston Symphony Orchestra in only 54 days while in ill health. The work was given its premiere by the BSO under the direction of Serge Koussevistsky on December 1, 1944, only 10 months before Bartók’s death. It is one of those pieces that people who are just starting to show an interest in classical music are often introduced to, as it allows the various sections of the orchestra to strut their stuff while playing music that is consistently musical and entertaining yet serious enough to withstand repeated listening over years and years.

There have been many, many recordings of the piece over the years, the touchstone recording for most music lovers and audiophiles being that by Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. Their performance was taped in 1955 and released on an RCA LP in 1956. Long prized for both its performance and its sonic qualities, it has has been rereleased digitally in CD and SACD format with the same pairing as on this BIS new disc, Bartók’s Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta, a piece not typically as likely to appeal to the person new to classical music; rather, it is a piece that often takes time to grow on you, but once it does, its “spooky” passages will give you musical chills and thrills. Mälkki and her Helsinki forces do great justice to both pieces, as do the BIS engineers. This is a truly fine recording. For those who already own the Reiner, there may be no need to run out and get this one; however, for those just getting into classical music, especially those who may be contemplating a move into and SACD- or streaming-based multi-channel listening experience, this new BIS release would clearly be the way to go, and even for those with two-channel systems, this is a highly recommendable release of some truly remarkable music that belongs in every classical music lover’s collection.

Peter Gregson: Patina. Includes Hidden; Patina; Sense; Cluster; Schema; Sequence (Seven); Over; Don’t Wake; Continuum. Peter Gregson, solo cello, piano;  Warren Zielinski, Magnus Johnston, Matthew Denton, Richard Blayden, violins; James Boyd, Eoin Schmidt-Martin, Meghan Cassidy, Stephanie Edmundson, Richard Harwood, violas; Reinoud Ford, Ben Chappell, Tim Lowe, cellos; Laurence Ungless, double bass; Anthony Weeden, conductor. Deutsche Grammophon 0029 486 0567.

Although I was familiar with compositions by composer and cellist Peter Gregson (b. 1987) from CDs by other musicians, Patina is the first recording I have encountered led by Gregson himself. As you can see from the header, the music is scored for traditional classical instruments, with no synthesizers being employed. That being said, the music itself lies somewhere between classical and something else entirely – not New Age, not ambient; I’m not quite sure how to categorize it. You can get a quick sample of the music here, and here is what Gregson himself has to say about the it: “What happens when you remove a melody? Supporting melodies change in importance; harmonies, cadence, phrasing all take on a different role. But the blueprint of the absent melody can still be felt, even if it isn’t heard.” Note that he says remove a melody, not remove all melody. There are still plenty of what he calls “supporting melodies” that make the album a pleasant, engaging musical experience.

Interestingly enough, despite professing a desire to remove the primary melody from this music, in a sense hiding it from his listeners so that they would at best experience it only indirectly, Gregson professes quite the opposite approach to the way the album is recorded: “These ‘songs without words’ are recorded to sound honest. I want to bring you, the listener, right up close to the instruments, next to the scratches of the bow on the string, the fingers on the keyboard, the breath in the room… This is a collection of pieces where the sounds have aged, where the music has levied a life; where the reverbs are shadowy, dusty crevices, subtly degrading as they decay. In this album, musical distortion is not used for aggression, but for playing with the perception of the sound like a trick mirror at a playground… All of the sounds in all of the music on this album are the sounds of a life that has been lived. This may be mechanically reproduced – a perfect snapshot in time, never changing, the same forever – but accepting imperfections and appreciating the everyday impact of life is, for me, what PATINA is all about.” That last sentence might strike some readers as a bit over the top, but the more I listen to the album, the more I believe I understand what Gregson is trying to say. The music really does seem to have a sense of resignation about it, but a contented, mellow resignation that signifies an appreciation for beauty, for music, for life. Those looking for high-energy musical excitement will not find it here; rather, this is music for those seeking shelter from the storm.

KWN

Two Contemporary Choral Recordings (CD reviews)

Works by Pärt, Vasks, MacMillan, and Runestad

By Karl W. Nehring

Presented for your musical enjoyment are two recent releases of choral music, the first comprising works by three composers whose names should be familiar to most music lovers, the second by a composer whose name is less likely to be known. The first features music traditionally religious in nature, while the second is more literary in orientation but not exclusively secular. Indeed, both releases are quite capable of lifting listeners’ spirits. To look at them both together is to see a kind of quick candid snapshot of current approaches to contemporary choral composition, performance, and engineering.

Stabat: Includes works by Arvo Pärt, (Da Pacem, Domine; The Woman with the Alabaster Box; Magnificat; Nunc Dimittis; Stabat Mater); Peteris Vasks (Plainscapes); James MacMillan (Miserere). Graham Ross, Choir of Clare College, Cambridge; The Dmitri Ensemble. Harmonia Mundi HMM 905323.

Estonian composer Arvo Pärt, (b. 1935) is the featured composer on Stabat, which includes five of his compositions. By now, most classical music lovers should be familiar with his music, as his compositions have been recorded by myriad performers on a variety of labels. For those of us of a certain age, though, Pärt, was a newcomer who suddenly appeared on the scene with music unlike anything we had ever heard before. I can still vividly recall the first time I heard his music. While I was in graduate school, I had a weekend job as a security guard for Liebert Corporation, a manufacturer of computer support equipment that at that time basked in having recently been named one of the “100 Best Companies to Work for in America.” One of my late-night duties was to drive from my post at the main plant to check on their training center, which was a couple of miles or so away. On one of those late nights as I got into my car I found that the classical FM radio station was playing something completely engrossing, music such as I had never experienced before. I was spellbound! I sat and listened to the end of the piece, eager to find out what this music could possibly be. It turned out to be the landmark ECM release Tabula Rasa, featuring the music of Arvo Pärt as played by the then-young violinist Gidon Kremer and of all pianists, the jazz icon Keith Jarrett (who, sadly enough, has suffered a couple of strokes over the past couple of years and is  no longer able to play the piano). Since then, I have been an avid Pärt fan (as well as a fan of Kremer and Jarrett) and have auditioned and owned many of his numerous compositions over the past several decades.

All of the Pärt, compositions in this collection have been recorded before, typically several times, but that does not diminish the quality or appeal of the performances on this CD by the Choir of Clare College, Cambridge. As a bonus, the inclusion of striking compositions of a similar musical and emotional appeal by the Latvian composer Peteris Vasks (b. 1946) and the Scottish composer James MacMillan (b. 1959) makes for a coherent, vibrant, and entertaining program.

The program kicks off with two Pärt compositions for choir alone. Da pacem, Domine was commissioned by the Catalonian conductor Jordi Savall (whose recent set of Beethoven Symphonies Nos. 1-5 figures prominently in my “get those reviews finished, darn it!” pile). Pärt started writing it two days after the Madrid bombings in March 2004, and it has been performed commemoratively in Spain every year since. The stirring chords playing off against each other are like tolling bells, moving and memorable. The next piece, The Woman with the Alabaster Box, features more of a traditional choir sonority, rich in reverberation as captured by the engineers. Pärt has an admirable ability to employ stillness as an expressive tool  The soft descent into silence at the end of the piece is a marvel to behold.

Plainscapes by Vasks augments the sound of the choir with expressive support from violin and cello. The opening finds the choir joined by a high note from the violin, the violin then sliding into a haunting, almost spooky sound. At times, the two string instruments take the lead, spinning searching sounds that the choir supports and sustains with soft, tender accompaniment. There are no words, as the choir does not sing a text but rather employs vocalise throughout. Even without any sort of liturgical text, the net effect is nonetheless reverential.

Following the Vasks are two more pieces by Pärt, the choir once again singing a cappella. His setting of the Magnificat features rich harmonies weaving between male and female voices to create a reverential atmosphere capable of providing consolation and hope in these turbulent times for believers and nonbelievers alike. Oh, the healing power of great music! Nunc dimittis starts softly and slowly. As it proceeds, however, it builds in volume and intensity.

MacMillan’s Miserere seems to have a sound especially adapted to the acoustics and resonances of its physical setting. Simple vocal lines flow over each other, but are woven together in a more complex constitution than in the previous pieces in this program. The overall sound is larger, more complex—it is easy to imagine this as a work for orchestra. The ending is especially noteworthy for the way it winds down so skillfully and effectively.

The program closes with this recording’s longest (27:27) and most complex composition, Part's setting of the Stabat Mater. It opens with the strings alone, the choir not joining in for more than two minutes. And so the composition moves along, choir and chamber orchestra weaving in and out, intermingled with that silence so appropriate for his musical setting of a text that depicts the grief of Mary at Calvary.

All in all, this fine Harmonia Mundi CD, although with music rooted firmly in Christian liturgy, possesses musical and sonic excellence that can surely be appreciated by even the most secular of music lovers. Even if you already own recordings of some or even all of the Part compositions featured in this collection, the inclusion of the Vasks and MacMillan pieces, both of which are truly impressive, makes this release well worth seeking out. The engineering is excellent and the liner notes are useful. A first-class release in all respects.

Jake Runestad: Sing, Wearing the Sky. Includes The Secret of the Sea; Alleluia; Let My Love Be Heard; Sing, Wearing the Sky; Live the Questions; We Can Mend the Sky; Fear Not, Dear Friend; Proud Music of the Storm; I Will Lift Mine Eyes; Ner Ner. Joel Risema, Kantorei. Naxos 8.559892.

The Secret of the Sea is the opening selection of this collection of choral music by Jake Runestad (b. 1986), a young American composer who was born in Illinois and now resides in Minnesota. It is an ambitious work that incorporates texts from Whitman, Longfellow, Doolittle, and Uvavnuk. It is hard to listen to the opening measures without thinking of Vaughan Williams’s Symphony No. 1 (A Sea Symphony), not because Runestad is imitating RVW, but because the lyrics by Whitman and the exuberance of the music are similar in both pieces. The musical mood shifts as Runestad moves from text to text, but is always engaging and colorful, with the sound of the choir being accompanied by strings, percussion, and piano. The text for the next selection is much simpler, consisting entirely of one word, the tile of the piece, Alleluia. The performance by the unaccompanied singers is bursting with energy, culminating in a big finish. Also sung a cappella is the third selection on the program, Let My Love Be Heard, which the liner notes point out “became a powerful expression of collective grief and solidarity following terrorist attacks in Paris and Beirut.” The choir director at Cal State Long Beach led a performance of the work as part of a memorial to a student of the college who had been killed in the Paris attacks, a performance that was posted online and has become music sung to provide solace and comfort for subsequent tragedies. It is a tender piece in which Runestad has framed the poem “A Prayer” by Alfred Noyes in rich harmonies that truly do provide balm for the soul.

The mood shifts once again for the title number, Sing, Wearing the Sky, with lyrics by Lalla, a 14th-century Sufi poet/mystic from India. From the cover art on the CD I had a kind of metaphorical, abstract preconception of what the title meant, but then I encountered the lines, “My teacher told me, live in the soul. When that was so, I began to go naked, and dance. Dance, Lalla, with nothing on but air. Sing, Lalla, wearing the sky.” That put a different spin on things… As the piece proceeds, a violin adds a distinctly Indian vibe to the sonority, with a mezzo-soprano voice telling the story accompanied by the choir as well as the violin, piano, and percussion. The net effect is dramatic, the listener really feeling the spirit of the dance. The next selection, Live the Questions, offers life advice of a different sort, with lyrics taken from a letter that Rilke wrote to a young cadet in the Austrian army who had sought Rilke’s advice on some life decisions he was facing. The musical setting has turned to the more serious side once again, with some tender harmonies culminating in a memorable final chord.

The next cut, We Can Mend the Sky, starts with a bang as drums accompany the chorus. As the lyrics (written by a 14-year-old Somali girl in response to violent riots she had witnessed in her homeland) unfold, a solo soprano sings the story with the choir accompanying her. There are some dramatic moments, but the earnest repetition  of the line, “if we come together, we can mend the sky” seems to be a bit over the top, a few too many overly earnest repetitions, at least for my taste. I hope I am not being too cynical (hey, 2020 has been a hard year for us all). In any event, the next selection, Fear Not, Dear Friend, from a poem by Robert Louis Stevenson, features rich harmonies that underscore the imploring loving tenderness of Stevenson’s touching words of support. The ending repeats the opening line, effectively bringing about a feeling of emotional resolution. The next selection, Proud Music of the Storm,  with lyrics by Walt Whitman, also seems to a kind of repetition, the overall sound and sense echoing the CD’s opening cut, The Secret of the Sea, the opening section of which also featured lyrics by that exuberant American poet. The opening notes are from the piano, and as the chorus joins in, there are shifting moods, breathing sounds, and the unfolding of the vison of an unfettered mind. The overall effect is grandiose, yet on a personal scale.

The penultimate composition, I Will Lift Mine Eyes, is Runestad’s setting of Psalm 121. Runestad explains that “I came across Psalm 121 from the Bible and found great beauty in the admiration for natural creation linked with a promise of guidance and support from a higher power. I find such peace in the splendor of the natural world and I wanted to capture that serenity with this work.” As you might expect, the music is reverential and stately, sung with depth and conviction by Kantorei. That serious mood disappears as the final selection begins, Ner Ner being a highly energetic and rhythmically resplendent rendition of nonsense syllables. A strange way to end the album, perhaps, but certainly a fun way.

Overall, Sing, Wearing the Sky is entertaining and enjoyable. The recording quality is certainly good, maybe not audiophile quality but never off-putting. There are times when I found myself wishing for less reverberation, but on the other hand, it does add to the sense of hearing singers in a public space rather than a studio setting. The liner notes are useful, with lyrics included,  This Naxos release is well worth an audition by fans of choral music.

Bonus Recommendation: Bruckner: Mass No. 3 in F minor. Margaret Price, soprano; Doris Soffel, alto; Peter Straka, tenor; Matthias Holle, bass; Philharmonischer Chor Munchen; Sergiu Celibidache, Munchner Philharmoniker (EMI 7243 5 56702 2 9)  In the category of choral music, here is something special. Music lovers whose familiarity with the music of Anton Bruckner is based solely upon hearing his symphonies may already have sensed a spirit of religiosity in his music. His symphonies have been described as “cathedrals in sound,” and movements such as the Adagio from his Symphony No. 8 are certainly capable of stimulating transcendent thoughts and feelings in listeners’ minds and hearts. But Bruckner was not just a symphonist, he also wrote music in other genres, including three Masses, of which this is the third. Conductor Sergiu Celibidache did not believe music should be recorded, so he did not leave a recorded legacy like so many other conductors. This EMI release is of a live concert, part of a series of live recordings that have been given special care to make his music more available to the public. It is music of great depth and beauty; oi deed, the structure of the Mass and its text meant that Bruckner did not write the repetitious melodies with the abrupt endings he employed in his symphonies. It is as if the very limitations  involved in setting the text to music are what freed him to compose some of his most beautiful music. This is an utterly wondrous release, well worth seeking out.

KWN

More New Releases (CD/SACD Mini-reviews)

By Karl W. Nehring

Alas, my favorite public library has been forced to close its doors again because of the coronavirus pandemic. Sadly, it was only open for a couple more days after I had finally been able to enter it at last and check out the new music releases that I commented on previously for Classical Candor. (https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/11/some-new-releases-cd-mini-reviews.html) Not to worry, though, because although its doors have been closed to the public except for that one brief interlude (or was that whole episode merely a dream?), the library has been functioning quite efficiently on a drive-through basis. Buoyed by my experience with discovering new releases on that one brief but magical venture through the library door, I decided to do some searching on their website to see what other new classical releases they might have obtained recently. I there found some interesting items, some of which I am still in the process of auditioning and digesting, others for which I am pleased to offer some brief but, let’s hope, helpful commentary on below. Enjoy and stay safe, my friends...

Johann Johannsson and Yair Elasar Glotman: Last and First Men. (Deutsche Grammophon 4837410)
The late Johann Johannsson composed some truly remarkable music during his relatively brief career. Among his notable achievements were several movie soundtracks that are enjoyable to hear even divorced from their films (e.g., his soundtrack to the film Arrival, a stimulating sci-fi film based on an ingenious short story by author Ted Chiang titled “The Story of Your Life”). The copy I obtained from the library includes both the CD of the soundtrack and a Blu-ray disc of the movie, which I have not yet watched but plan to presently. The music is haunting, moody, sometimes spooky, with acoustic instruments, voices, and synthesized sounds blended together to great effect. If you are already a fan of Johannsson, you’ll want to give this new release a listen. 

MacMillan: Symphony No. 5 “Le grand Inconnu”; The Sun Danced. Mary Bevan, soprano; Harry Christophers, The Sixteen and the Genesis Sixteen, Britten Sinfonia. (CORO COR16179)
Sir James MacMillan (b. 1959) has given us here two large-scale works for chorus and orchestra that are based on religious themes. The Sun Danced (2016) was commissioned by the Shrine of Fatima in Portugal to mark the centennial of a religious miracle, while his Symphony No. 5, le grand Inconnu” (2019) is said by the composer to evoke the mystery of the Holy Spirit. MacMillan explains in the liner notes that the French phrase “Le grand Inconnu” refers to the mystery of the Holy Spirit in a way he cannot find in the English spiritual tradition. Musically, both pieces are expressive and colorful, showing the composer’s skill and imagination in powerful measure. A particularly gripping effect is the quiet breathing of the choir that opens the Symphony, a musical effect that brings to mind the idea of “the whisperings of the Spirit.” The soprano Mary Bevan really shines in The Sun Danced, with orchestra and chorus providing many moments of power and light. Both pieces have an exuberance that sweeps the listener away; indeed, one need not be religious to appreciate the power of MacMillan’s musical vision and the glory of the musicians who bring that vision gloriously to life.  

Mahler: Symphony No. 7. Osmo Vänskä, Minnesota Orchestra. (BIS 2386)
One of the highlights of my musical life was attending a concert performance of the Mahler Symphony No. 7 by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra under the baton of Claudio Abbado. Given that JJP has already posted a fine in-depth review of this BIS release (https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/08/mahler-symphony-no-7-sacd-review.html), I will simply second his opinion that this is a very fine recording indeed. It is an excellent performance featuring an especially adept interpretation of the final movement. In addition, the sound of the orchestra has been captured with superb engineering, making this release worthy of an enthusiastic recommendation to all Mahler fans.    

Prokofiev: Suites from The Gambler and The Tale of the Stone Flower. Dima Slobodeniouk, Lahti Symphony Orchestra. (BIS 2301)
This SACD of orchestral music by Prokofiev contains just what you would expect from orchestral suites by the Russian master: music that is colorful, expressive, energetic, and entertaining. Many music lovers are no doubt familiar with the colorful orchestral suites from his ballet, Romeo and Juliet. The first suite on this disc, Four Portraits and Denouement from “The Gambler” is derived from an opera rather than a ballet, but the other suite is based upon his ballet The Tale of the Stone Flower. Interestingly enough, I noted in my listening sessions that there was some music that seemed quite parallel to some music from Prokofiev’s ballet score for the star-crossed lovers, but it is certainly no scandal to hear a great composer stealing from his or her own catalog, especially when the end product is so rewardingly entertaining, as it is here. Sandwiched between these two suites is an earlier composition by Prokofiev, his brief but soberly expressive Autumnal Sketch. The engineering is first-rate, which is what we have come to expect from BIS, one of the few labels that still lists the equipment used in the production, a fun touch that brings to mind those heady audiophile days of the 70s and 80s.

Shostakovich: Symphonies Nos. 5 & 1. Gianandrea Noseda, London Symphony Orchestra (LSO Live LSO0802)
I thought it seemed a bit surprising to see the reverse numerical order of the symphonies in the title of this release. Perhaps the producers figured that the 5th is the more popular Shostakovich symphony of the two so they needed to list it first? Not a big deal, just a bit odd, so perhaps that was the point: christen it a bit oddly to draw some extra attention in a crowded marketplace. Whatever. A bigger surprise awaited me when I got home, opened the cover, and realized that there were two shiny toruses in the package, one for Symphony No. 5, the other for -- you guessed it -- Symphony No. 1. I had assumed both works would have fit on one SACD, but that might have been stretching it. There are no fillers included on either disc, but given that the package sells for a relatively modest price, value is not really an issue. Both symphonies are well done, recorded in live performance but engineered superbly. Symphony No. 1 is played with just a bit less playfulness than I would like to hear, but is still a delight. Similarly delightful is Noseda’s version of No. 5, an interpretation that seems to strike a balance between hope and despair. For the price, this 2-SACD set would be a great way for someone new to Shostakovich to be introduced to his symphonies.

Voice of Hope: Camille Thomas, cello; Stephane Deneve (tracks 4-6), Mathieu Herzog (tracks 1-3, 7-13). Brussels Philharmonic. (Deutsche Grammophon 4838564)
What looks to be at first glance just another collection of arrangements for cello of some traditional favorites turns out to be something more complex, more focused, and more satisfying than that. The centerpiece of this collection is not a traditional favorite; rather, it is a new composition  by Turkish composer Fazil Say (b. 1970) titled Concerto for Cello and Orchestra “Never Give Up,” a quite listenable and rewarding piece of contemporary music that fits right in with the other selections in this release, which include impassioned performances of notable compositions such as Ravel’s Kaddish (if you ever get the opportunity, check out the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra’s “Tree of Life: A Concert for Peace and Unity,” a moving memorial concert for the victims of the tragic 2918 Pittsburgh synagogue shooting, which among other heartfelt performances included a version of Kaddish with a clarinet taking the lead), Bruch’s Kol Nidrei, and John Williams’s Theme from Schindler’s List. Voice of Hope is a truly remarkable release, much more than a random collection of arrangements for cello. Brava, Ms. Thomas!

Vasks: Viola Concerto; String Symphony “Voices.” Maxim Rysanov, viola and conductor, Sinfonietta Riga. (BIS 2443)
Music lovers who have not yet discovered the entrancing music of Latvian composer Peteris Vasks (b. 1946) will find this new BIS release an excellent gateway into his musical universe. The CD opens with the more recent of the two works on the program, his Concerto for Viola and String Orchestra (2014-2015). Those fearful of contemporary music need not be afraid, this is music to delight rather than assault the ear. The opening movement in particular is breathtakingly beautiful, so listeners are likely to be hooked from the outset (shades of the old strategy of starting off a rock or pop album with a hit song sure to draw listeners in). Rest assured, though, the rest of the music on the disc is up to the same high standard of quality. The second composition is one of the first pieces by Vasks that got me interested in his music back in the early 1990s. His Symphony for Strings, “Voices” (1991) is more inward-focused than the Concerto, more allusive than effusive. Again, it is a good place to start with the music of Vasks, as it employs many of the musical devices that he will use in subsequent works. It truly draws the listener in, giving the mind something to turn over while enjoying the compelling sonorities. It is one of those pieces that upon hearing, you will immediately want to hear again. All in all, this is an excellent release, highly recommended.

Avishai Cohen: Big Vicious. Avishai Cohen, trumpet/effects/synthesizer; Uri Ramirez, guitar; Yonatan Albalak, guitar/bass; Aviv Cohen, drums; Ziv Ravitz, drums/live sampling. (ECM 2680)
It is certainly not an original thought to say that jazz is America’s classical music, but I’ll throw it out there quickly along with another thought that certainly did not originate with me, that jazz musicians in general tend to have a deeper understanding of and ability to implement music theory than do classical musicians. And if you read biographies of and interviews with prominent jazz musicians, you might well be surprised to find out how many are fans of classical music. In any event, Big Vicious is a delight: tuneful, imaginative, and bold in both conception and execution. “Big Vicious” is the name of both Cohen’s band and the album, which contains 11 compositions: nine originals credited to Cohen or the band plus two covers, one an arrangement of the song “Teardrop” by Massive Attack, the other an arrangement of a movement of Beethoven’s “Moonlight” Sonata. (“Hey hey, my my, clas-sic-al will never die...”)

Bonus Recommendation: Self-Portrait with Russian Piano. Wolf Wondratscheck, author; Marshall Yarbrough, translator. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, First American Edition, 2020. ISBN 978-0-374-28049-1. It turns out that the library not only carries CDs, but they also carry books that they are more than happy to have their patrons check out to read. How cool is that?! Music lovers with a literary bent might enjoy this somewhat dreamlike novel by the German author, Wolf Wondratscheck. It tells the tale of a writer who encounters an aging Russian pianist, Suvorin, although as the novel moves along, it can become hard to separate the fictional author from the fictional pianist as their stories intertwine. Along the way, we are regaled with anecdotes and observations about actual musicians such as Clara Haskil (“Did she speak Russian? Did she speak at all?  Did her hands get cold before every appearance, too cold for Mozart, who would then warm them for her?”), Sviatislov Richter (“Any interest in success, in seeking admiration for his capabilities as a pianist, was completely alien to Richter. Success was fining the trail of a discovery, the hope of finding it. Richter would probably most preferred it if his name didn’t appear next to the composer’s on the playbill at all.”). Glenn Gould (“Gould was right to quit early. The guy was just thirty-two! But he had had enough and he threw in the towel. Good kid, and he had a sense of humor, too. That he did, you have to hand it to him.”), and Heinrich Schiff (“The worst ones, says Schiff, are the conqueror types, who turn each game into a tournament, each concert into a struggle—the killjoys at the conductor’s stand who wave the queue around like a baton. How little feeling, how little sensitivity they have.”). This novel is not the easiest to read, but it does tend to suck the reader in, weaving quite a psychological spell throughout its relatively brief 204 pages.  

Finally, allow me to be so bold as to recommend another jazz recording, this one also by trumpeter Avishai Cohen. His quintet recording Into the Silence (ECM 2482) is much different in sound and mood from Big Vicious. It is acoustic, moody, Cohen at times muting his trumpet and exploring some deeply introspective spaces both musically and emotionally. It is a simmeringly powerful release that is beautifully recorded and produced.

KWN

Mari: (CD Review)

Mari Samuelsen, violin; Christian Badzura, piano and synthesizer; Konzerthausorchester Berlin conducted by Jonathan Stockhammer. Works by Martynov, Richter, Glass, Vasks, Eno/Hopkins/Abrahams, Johansson, Bach, Badzura, Gregson, Eno/Roedelius/Moebius, and Clark. DG 483 58694 GH2.

By Karl W. Nehring

Violinist Mari Samuelsen has brought together a collection of interesting new music mixed with some pieces by Bach. Fortunately for us listeners, she proves adept in music from both eras, delivering us a two-CD set of delightful variety.

The set opens with the delightful second movement from Vladimir Martynov's "Come In!," a piece that will probably be unfamiliar to many of our readers. If you are delighted by this movement, which I believe many readers will be once they have heard Mari's version, you will do well to seek out a performance of the whole six-movement composition (there is an interesting CD titled Silencio by Gidon Kremer that contains the complete piece along with some music by Pärt and Glass). 

Next up is a composition by Max Richter titled Dona Nobis Pacem 2, a work that like much of Richter's music has both a minimalist and Romantic feel to it. That may sound contradictory, I know, but if you listen to this cut, you may well find those modes to be embodied in a complementary rather than contradictory fashion.

Knock knock
Knock knock
Knock knuck
Knock knock
Knock knick
Knack knock
Knock knock
Who's there?!
Philip Glass

The above joke, something I saw recently on Twitter, sets the stage for the next cut, Philip Glass's Einstein on the Beach: Knee Play 2. I hope I have not offended any Philip Glass fans (to be honest, I am not much of a fan, although I do really enjoy some of his music, as you will discover below if you have not already stopped reading this review in disgust). In the liner notes, Ms. Samuelsen describes this piece as "fireworks of neurons in the brain… it's a ridiculous piece to play, never ending and very difficult. But it serves as a contrast, which I think is important." She certainly throws energy into her rendition, and yes, it does serve as quite a contrast to much of the other music in this collection.

Indeed, the next composition, Lonely Angel by Peteris Vasks, plumbs emotional depths of yearning and despair while yet offering a glimmer of hope and compassion. The solo violin sings eloquently above the orchestra. This is truly a moving performance of some beautiful music, which is followed by the brief but lovely Emerald and Stone by Eno et al., which is in turn followed by Vocal, in which Max Richter evokes the spirit of Bach in a gentle meditation for solo violin.

Mari Samuelsen

Another significant mood swing brings us an arrangement of Heptapod B by the late Johann Johannson from his soundtrack to the movie Arrival (a fascinating film, based on the short story "Story of your Life" by Ted Chiang, which you really should read before seeing the movie – or if you have already seen the movie, which you will probably want to watch again if you read the story for the first time. "Story of Your Life" can be found in Chiang's collection, Stories of Your Life and Others, a hardbound volume that has been republished in paperback with the new title – you guessed it! – Arrival. Fascinating story, fascinating film, fascinating soundtrack, and fascinating inclusion in this collection.

From science fiction the music then shifts to a brief arrangement for solo violin and strings of Bach's Invention No. 13 in A minor, BWV 784, then back to the future (for Bach, anyway – back to the recent past for us) and an absolutely lovely bit of music by Glass, the second movement of his Violin Concerto. I can still recall being totally entranced by his concerto when I first heard it many years ago in my driveway though some relatively (okay, absolutely) lo-fi speakers in one of my long-ago cars. The mood of the Glass Concerto carries into the final piece on CD1, Christian Badzura's 847, which sounds much like the Glass but with a touch less of wistfulness and a dash more of energy.

CD2 opens with the longest selection in the program, the Chaconne from Partita for Violin Solo in D minor, BWV 1004 by Bach, sounding both lively and lovely in Mari's performance. Immediately following is an arrangement for solo violin and strings of Bach's Prelude in D major, BWV 850.

Just as the Glass Violin Concerto had been followed by a Richter composition that echoed its overall sound and mood on CD1, on CD2 we find compositions first by Richter, Fragment, for solo violin, and then Peter Gregson, Sequence (Four), a piece for solo violin and strings, both of which are clearly in the spirit of Bach's music. The Gregson piece begins somewhat austerely, then grows in emotional content as it moves along, blossoming into an expressive, touching musical composition.

Also expressive in the next selection, another piece by Martynov, this one titled The Beatitudes. The melodic lines are fairly simple, but they carry great power, reminding us that beatitudes are blessings.

Simple melodies with expressive power are also manifest in By This River, a gentle composition by Brian Eno, Hans-Joachim Roedelius, and Dieter Moebius. In such simple melodies, tender feelings are given wings. 

Next on Mari's agenda is more Bach, the Presto from Sonata for Violin Solo in G minor, BWV 1001, which is followed by Christopher Clark's Mammal Step Sequence, a composition whose title might sound a bit out there, but which proves to be a relatively straightforward and pleasant composition for violin and piano, with Mari accompanied on the latter by Christian Badzura.

The delightfully titled Good Night, Day by Johann Johannson is next on the program, a gentle piece for violin and orchestra that casts a spell somewhere between a lament and a lullaby. Hearing this music, as enjoyable as it is, cannot help but make me sad to realize that its wonderfully creative composer left us all too early.

An echo of what has gone before returns in the penultimate piece in the program, Max Richter's November for violin and orchestra. There is plenty of propulsive energy here, a feeling of driving toward the finish, the end in sight, the race nearly won.

The program closes with Peter Gregson's Lullaby for solo violin, a peaceful composition that is not without an undercurrent of energy and agitation, the lullaby expressing what many of us need before retiring for the night, a working out of tension and anxiety before settling into slumber.

Ms. Samuelsen points out in the liner notes that she has "a personal connection to every single piece, and I think it's a very natural journey… the need of going into a room and just listening to sound – almost like sound therapy – is bigger than ever. People are hungry for it, and I wanted to use my creativity to collaborate and experiment with some of the great people living today. Slowing down, and people leaving their busy lives behind, is only going to become more important, so I think there will be more room for this type of collaboration, and this type of music."

Mari truly does deliver a remarkable musical experience, one that soothes the soul while still stimulating the mind. This is not dreamy New Age meandering, it is focused and purposeful serious "classical" music both old and new. The production values are top-notch. In closing, I will mention that Ms. Samuelsen has also made an earlier recording somewhat similar in tone titled Nordic Noir, which is also well worth seeking out. I look forward eagerly to future releases from this remarkable musician.

KWN

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

Bach & Vasks: Violin Concertos (CD review)

Bach: Violin Concertos Nos. 1 and 2, BWV 1041 and 1042; Vasks: Violin Concerto "Distant Light." Renaud Capucon, violin and direction; Celine Frisch, continuo; Chamber Orchestra of Europe. Erato 08256 463232 2 7.

Right off, you have to ask the question, Why would French violinist Renaud Capucon choose to pair Baroque composer J.S. Bach's two solo violin concertos with a violin concerto by modern composer Peteris Vasks (b. 1946)? I mean, any potential buyer of the album familiar enough with classical music to want the Vasks piece would surely already own multiple favored copies of the Bach works. And the price of the disc seems awfully high for the Vasks concerto alone.

So, let's allow Mr. Capucon to tell us in his own words why he chose the coupling he did: "A gap of almost three centuries lies between these two composers. One was born in Germany in 1685 and the other in Latvia in 1946. Their music is very different. But in both cases the music has: purity of line, apparent simplicity, celestial harmony. Little remains to be said about Bach, but a great deal remains to be said about Vasks. Bringing them together on the same album seemed natural to me. Like an echo: one responding to the other. These works have in them a search for the absolute as well as moments of Grace. This is music which brings calm, which revitalizes, which gives hope. And the most striking thing of all is the humility of these two composers in the service of beauty." Fair enough.

Anyway, Capucon begins with the familiar: Bach's Violin Concerto No. 2 BWV 1042 and the Violin Concerto No. 1 BWV 1041. Capucon takes the outer movements at what I would describe as elegantly quick tempos, with an emphasis on consistently gentle rhythms. No breakneck speeds here nor any unnecessary lallygagging. The effect is radiant and sweetly glowing, at the same time vibrant and alive. The slow inner movements are abundantly expressive, too, while occasionally lacking in the lyrical grace I've heard from a few other performers. Nevertheless, these are fine interpretations, always reminding us of Capucon's poignancy and virtuosity. If it was purity and simplicity the violinist was after, I'd say he succeeded.

One of the other delights of the program is the work of the Chamber Orchestra of Europe. Established in 1981 and based in London, they have quickly become one of the finest small ensembles in the world. What's more, with over 250 recordings to their credit, they have become one of the most well-known chamber orchestras around. The ensemble seems always to be at one with the soloist, whether they're actually playing along with him or not. Their accuracy and control are remarkable, their understanding of the music and its atmospheric shadings always in evidence.

Then we get the companion piece, Vasks's Concerto for Violin and String Orchestra "Distant Light," composed in 2003. We learn from a booklet note that Vasks and his family suffered a great deal because of the Nazi and Soviet occupations of his country, and that his music often reflects that experience. We also learn that fellow Latvian violinist Gidon Kremer greatly influenced him, and Vasks dedicated "Distant Light" to him. The work should evoke and underline distant memories, some of them pleasant, many of them melancholy if not downright grave.

I'm sure more educated ears than mine could hear the similarities between the Vasks and Bach concertos, but, alas, I could not. This isn't to say, however, that I didn't enjoy the Vasks concerto a good deal. With a commanding performance from Capucon, the music alternates between mostly quiet, contemplative, introspective moods and more nervous, sometimes folk-inflected states.

Producers Alain Lanceron and Michael Fine and engineer Jin Choi recorded the album at the Darius Milhaud Conservatory, Aix en Provence, France in December 2013. With this recording you get clarity above all. The ensemble is small, so it shows up with excellent definition and detail, and the violin, while a tad forward, sounds well integrated with the group. In other words, the soloist is clearly in charge sonically but not dominating. There is a modest degree of room resonance, plus a reasonable sense of depth that also help the music to appear lifelike. Overall, the sound is smooth, moderately warm, and only a trifle bright.

JJP

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