Mikyung Sung: The Colburn Sessions

by Bill Heck

Bottesini: Tarantella, Capriccio di Bravura, Elegy No. 1 in D Major; Massenet: Meditation from Thaïs; Hindemith: Sonata for Double Bass and Piano; Montag: Sonata in E Minor for Double Bass and Piano; Mendelssohn: Cello Sonata No. 2 in D Major; Rachmaninoff: Sonata in G minor for Cello and Piano, Op. 19 (third movement); Franck: Sonata in A major for Violin and Piano. Jaemin Shin, Mikyung Sung. Modus Vivendi Media MVM2301

When I first happened upon this album, I was dumbfounded. So far as I can tell, it should be physically impossible to play a double bass in the manner that Ms. Sung does. Flying through endless quick series of notes with on the nose intonation along the extended neck with thick strings of this instrument: how in the world does she do that?

But, of course, there is more to this two-CD set than mere technical brilliance, so let’s explore. 

Giovanni Bottesini

The first disc opens with three works by Giovanni Bottesini (1821 – 1899), considered in his time as the “Paganini of the Double Bass”, and who moved from virtuoso command of that instrument to conducting and composing. The first piece, Tarantella, certainly is a showpiece for the double bass, with shifting tempi and virtuoso runs: If you do think of Paganini on the bass instead of the violin, you’ll have the general idea. The next, Capricio di bravura, begins as a soulful singing piece that moves across the entire range of the instrument. It breaks into a lively dance, and back and forth we go, ending it all with a flourish; the overall feel is reminiscent of a dance scene from an opera. Finally, we have the Elegy, several minutes of quite lovely playing. Showpieces all, the music is interesting and enjoyable, and in any case bravura playing is enough to carry the day.

Massenet’s Meditation from Thais is one of those works that you’ve heard somewhere, even if you didn’t know what it was. Originally composed for violin and orchestra, in the wrong hands it can degenerate into a rather saccharine tearjerker, but the transposition of the work to double bass with piano accompaniment gives it a whole new sound, perhaps more straightforward than the original. In any case, Sung’s playing is moving without turning into treacle.

Next up are two more recent works also originally composed for the double bass, namely Paul Hindemith’s Sonata for Double Bass and Piano, followed by Vilmas Montag’s work of the same name.

The Hindemith Sonata is in much the same vein as some of his better know and more popular works, such as the Mathis der Maler or the Metamorphosis (on Themes by Weber). Although there are moments of dissonance, the composition still is tonal, with a mood best described as mysterious, and developed mostly in minor keys. Personally, I found it quite engaging and I’m glad to have made its acquaintance.

I’m less certain of the Montag composition but can say with confidence that Sung makes the best possible case for it. Her playing, especially in the lower register of the instrument, is lovely and powerful at the same time.

This is a good time to mention that the contributions from pianist Jaemin Shin are beyond mere accompaniment: there’s no doubt that the album is about Sung, but she and Shin are very much partners in music making.

The second disc contains works originally composed for other instruments and redone for the double bass. There are three: Mendelssohn‘s Cello Sonata No. 2, Rachmaninoff’s Sonata in G minor for Cello and Piano (third movement), and Franck’s Sonata in A for Violin and Piano. You may be familiar with these works in their original versions, so I won’t go into a lot of description here. What I will say is that all of them sound absolutely natural when played on the double bass; indeed, if you didn’t know that they were originally composed for different instruments, you could easily presume that they were composed for the bass. (That’s not too surprising in the first two works, as the move from cello to bass at least seems like a plausible idea. But it really is amazing that the third piece loses nothing in the translation.) In all three, what could have sounded just gimmicky are instead propelled by Sung’s musical sensitivity as well as her virtuosity and come across simply as wonderful music. Yes, the bass gives the pieces more sonic weight, but it never weighs them down.

The sound on both discs is clean and natural, although that on the second is just a touch more distant that on the first. (The recording venues were different.) I listened to the album on my streaming service; sadly, the CD booklet was not available there. (I wish I knew why booklets are or are not available on streaming service that support them; they are for some newer works but not for all.) The CD is generally available, but you also can purchase a digital download of the entire thing at Mikyung Sung’s website.

Penitence & Lamentation (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring  

Nicolas Gombert: Lugebat David Absalon; William Byrd: Domine secundum actum meum; Thomas Tallis; In jejunio et fletu; Absterge Domine; Thomas Crecquillon: Pater peccavi: Robert Ramsey: How are the mighty fallen; William Byrd: Emendemus in Melius; Ye sacred muses; Ne irascaris Domine; Nico Muhly: Fallings; Robert Carver: O bone Jesu. Byrd Ensemble; Markdavin Obenza, artistic director. Scribe Records SRCD12

As music lovers and listeners with seemingly infinite options from which to choose when we decide we have the time and the means to listen to music, whether that be on earbuds as we exercise or commute, headphones or desktop speakers as we work at our computers at home or in the office, or best of all, through a carefully chosen and set up audio system in our own familiar listening room at home, we are free to choose the mood of the music to which we are going to listen. There are times when we might want to hear something energetic, perhaps a vigorous recording of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7, but then there are times when we might want to hear something of an entirely different nature. The liner notes to Penitence & Lamentation begin in a way that let us know we are hardly going to be in for the “apotheosis of the dance” offered us by Beethoven: “The unifying theme of this disc is guilt and grief. These pieces tell stories and paint pictures much like the Frederic Leighton painting on the cover, in which David mourns the death of his son Absalom, a moment portrayed by the Gombert piece that opens the disc. Although these are religious texts, one not need be a believer to appreciate the drama of these stories or to relate to the universal human experiences they depict. In orienting the program around the sentiments expressed in the music, we invite listeners to take in not only the aural sound world but also the meanings of the texts, as well as the composers’ techniques for conveying meaning through music.”

 

Now, different listeners will listen to this music at different levels; in fact, the same listeners may listen at different levels at different times. What do I mean by this? There are times when listeners will simply enjoy the sound of the music without any regard whatsoever to what the words even are, much less what the text might mean. Many – my guess would be most, actually – listeners (and I am not ashamed to count myself in that group) will continue to enjoy the music at this level, even though they may well read the supplied texts in the liner notes and come to an understanding of and appreciation for their meaning and significance. Although the compositions may be about grief, they of course do not invoke a feeling of grief in those who listen. Given the sheer depth of beauty of the singing by the Byrd Ensemble, a Seattle-based early music choir that has was originally formed in 2004, listeners are far more likely to feel their spirits lifted up rather than in any way pulled down. 

The program maintains a remarkably consistent sonority throughout the first nine tracks, then changing – not surprisingly given the quantum leap forward in time from William Byrd (1543-1623) to Nico Muhly ( b. 1981) – but not at all jarringly so. Muhly’s Fallings brings a subtle sense of drama to the flow of the music, but then we jump back again several centuries to encounter the music of Robert Carver (1485-1570), ending the program with the longest composition on the disc, his serenely devotional O bone Jesu.

 

Scribe Records is to be commended for putting together a first-class product. The cover art, the liner notes, the sonics – all are excellent. For fans of this kind of choral music, Penitence & Lamentation is a release well worth an audition; indeed, anyone looking for music to calm the mind and soothe the soul might well want to set aside some time to give it a listen. 

Bruckner: Symphony No. 3 (CD Review)

by Karl Nehring

First version, 1873 (edited by Leopold Nowak). Gürzenich-Orchester Köln; François-Xavier Roth, conductor. Myrios Classics MYR033

One of the most fascinating yet frustrating bodies of work left by a major musical figure is the set of symphonies of the Austrian composer Anton Bruckner (1824-1896). There are the nine numbered symphonies (i.e., Symphonies Nos. 1-9), some of which exist in several different versions, having been revised by Bruckner himself and/or various others. In addition, there are two other symphonies, including a D minor Symphony, which he retracted, but which has been published and is referred to today as Symphony No. 0 (‘Die Nullte’) and an F minor symphony, which he rejected, but was finally published in 1973 and is sometimes referred to as Symphony No. 00 (‘Study Symphony’). Particularly complicated has been the story of his Symphony No. 3, as this explanation from the Hyperion website makes clear: “Of all the Bruckner symphonies, No. 3 is the most fraught with editorial ‘problems’. At least eight versions are known to exist: the original version of 1873 (not published until 1977); the first revision (1874, also unpublished); a ‘rhythmic revision’ (1876); a third revision, published in 1878 as the first edition (used for the premiere); a ‘Fritz Oeser’ edition of 1877; and two other versions from 1889, one edited by Nowak. Bruckner called No. 3 his ‘Wagner Symphony’ and it contains many quotations from the Wagner operas including the famous cascading strings from the Tannhäuser Overture.” You can also find some information about versions of the work in this YouTube video by music critic David Hurwitz, who favors the 1877 version.

What we have here is a recording of the original 1873 version. If you watch the Hurwitz video, you will discover that although he finds the 1877 version to be his favorite, he has good things to say about Georg Tintner’s Naxos CD of this same 1873 version, which Tinter recorded with the Royal Scottish National Orchestra in 1998 and Naxos released early in 2000. Now we have a fresh new recording by the Gürzenich Orchestra of Cologne, Germany, under the direction of French conductor François-Xavier Roth (b. 1971), who is perhaps most familiar to classical music listeners from his many recordings with Les Siècles, the period-instrument orchestra that he founded. However, Roth has conducted many other orchestras, and in 2015, he was appointed Gürzenich Principal Conductor as well as General Music Director of the City of Cologne. In addition, the Gürzenich Orchestra, which was founded in 1827, has been associated with the music of Bruckner for more than a century, the liner notes pointing out that “among all chief conductors after the Second World War, Günter Wand is remembered for having featured Bruckner’s symphonies most prominently; he made them the mainstay of the orchestra’s repertoire during the entire course of his long tenure as General Music Director until 1974… Under Wand’s successors Yuri Ahronovitch and Markus Stenz, the symphonies of Anton Bruckner continued to play a key role in Gürzenich Orchestra concert programmes.”

The notes go on to point out that in his first concert as Principal Conductor, Roth led the orchestra in Bruckner’s Symphony No. 4, and that he and the orchestra will be marking the Bruckner bicentennial by recording the complete set of symphonies, of which the present recording is apparently the first installment. It’s a good start, as this is a fine recording. For those veteran Bruckner fans who may be familiar with the 1873 version from Tintner’s Naxos disc, Roth’s version offers quite a different perspective on the score, with Roth being both livelier in pace and less inclined toward long pauses. Comparing timings by movement between the two conductors we find the following: I. Gemäßigt, misterioso (Roth, 22:59; Tintner, 30:39) II. Adagio: Feierlich (Roth, 16:20; Tintner, 20:40) III. Scherzo: Ziemlich schnell (Roth, 6:07; Tintner, 6:50) IV. Finale: Allegro (Roth, 16:15; Tintner, 19:21). There is much to be said for Tintner’s version, which brings a sense of majesty and wonder to the score; on the other hand, Roth’s approach sounds more natural, more rational, more refined. Devoted Brucknerians might well wish to acquire both. But for those who have never before heard this early version of the score, this Roth recording is the one with which to start. The Gürzenich players obviously are familiar both with Bruckner and with Roth, the end result being a recording that sounds just right, aided by excellent engineering. We are going to be flooded with Bruckner recordings in 2024; let’s hope at least some of them rise to the standard of this one from 2023.