Friday, 22 November 2024

Adventurous, virtuosic and highly expressive celebration of 15 years of the Canellakis-Brown Duo

Cellist Nicholas Canellakis and pianist-composer Michael Stephen Brown, met in their early twenties some fifteen years ago and have been performing as the Canellakis-Brown Duo ever since, as well as maintaining their separate solo careers. They clearly have a close friendship which has also stimulated compositions and arrangements  from both, a number of which receive première recordings here. 
 
First, let’s get the album title, ‘(b)romance’ out of the way. Now celebrating male friendship is no bad thing, but the term ‘bromance’ is unfortunately problematic for me. The implication is always that such a friendship between two presumably straight men needs a label, however tongue in cheek, lest we ‘misunderstand’. And just in case we are in any doubt, it is confirmed that Canellakis has a girlfriend, whilst Brown’s website informs us that he has two Steinways with female names (really?). Now there’s clearly a play on the term here, with reference to the numerous Romances for cello and piano amongst the eclectic and expressive repertoire, and their friendship and professional partnership of 15 years is worthy of celebration. But still…
 
Anyway, closeness of communication and warmth of connection are immediately evident in the Saint-Saëns Romance opener, with Canellakis in particular producing a glorious cantabile sound. Brown is equally expressive in the Romantic piano solo of the Romanze from Clara Schumann’s Piano Concerto, with Canellakis joining for the expressive, luxurious duet that emerges. Fauré’s Romance has a wonderful flow in the meandering, expressive cello melody, with Brown providing the necessary sense of motion from the piano. The rich, lower register opening from Canellakis is particularly striking here too. This is followed by Romance à GF, composed by Canellakis himself. He doesn’t clarify whether GF is his girlfriend, or the former composer’s initials, but regardless, it is an evocative piece, with the cello on long sustained piano notes of a rising scale emerging from the quiet mysterious piano opening. Once the melody gets going there is definitely a nod to Fauré here. Brown picks up the pace and intensity to support Canellakis’ outbursts, before it all dies away, leaving Canellakis at the heights of the fingerboard. Brown’s compositional offerings here include 35 Chords for Nick (a 35th birthday present). The score (reproduced in the notes) indicates that the tempo, character and dynamics of the chords is up to the performer, and should be different every time – whilst setting down a recording obviously limits us to one version. But Canellakis’ mixture of spread chords, multiple stoppings, pizzicato and harmonics is engaging, and he again puts that richness of tone to great effect. There is also a Prelude and Dance from Brown, originally written as a solo cello piece for Canellakis, but with Brown adding the piano part later. The Prelude is an expressive, questioning conversation, in which the cello part’s repeated notes in particular get more insistent. The Dance that follows is wild and relentless, with most of the drive coming from the cello, with the piano adding complexity to the rhythms, before they swirl towards its frenzied conclusion.
 
The longest piece here is Sibelius’ dark Malinconia, and at just over 11 minutes in a programme of largely miniatures, it feels epic in proportions. Full of anguish, written in response to the death of the composer’s infant daughter, from the dark mysterious cello opening rising in anguish to the piano cascades, and then the folk-like cello lament over the piano’s rhythmic pulse, this certainly packs an emotional punch. As the intensity rises, Brown’s crashing piano is matched by Canellakis’ heart-wrenching full sound, followed by a quietly raging conclusion, making for a highly moving performance of this astonishing piece. Ginastera’s Pampeana No. 2follows this with the bell-like piano and extended dramatic cello flourish leading into a swirling dance and long passages of extreme expressive outbursts, then just when you think it’s almost over, there is a wild dance to finish, with both Canellakis & Brown showing their virtuosic prowess. 
 
Elsewhere, Canellakis makes the melody of Rachmaninov’s Lied sing alongside the relatively simple piano accompaniment, whilst Copland’s Poème, a contrastingly reflective piece, is given a peaceful, almost sensual reading. Debussy’s song Beau soir, here transcribed by Canellakis, is limpid and warm, with a beautifully controlled high ending from Canellakis. And Lukas Foss’ (1922-2009) Capriccio is full of American folksy melodies, galloping pace and train-like rhythmic energy, once again allowing both players to demonstrate their virtuosity. 
 
They end the disc playfully, first with 3 Preludes by Gershwin, arranged by Canellakis. The first is great fun, and the third is a joyful romp, whilst the central prelude is sultry, with a bluesy (if a little ‘clean’ here) second half. But they finish with a wild, virtuosic and crazy dance, Don Ellis’ (1934-1978) Bulgarian Bulge, originally for big band, in another Canellakis arrangement. Its 33/16 metre is fiendishly infectious, and Canellakis and Brown swirl and spin with sparkling energy to bring their programme to a glorious close. All in all, a great programme, performed with style, virtuosic command and expression – just a shame about that title!



 
 

Thursday, 7 November 2024

Smock Alley - Italian meets Irish in 18th century Dublin, with richly resonant performances from Irlandiani

I’m catching up on a few releases from First Hand Records from the last year. The first of these was prompted by also seeing the ensemble, Irlandiani, perform at this year’s Brighton Early Music Festival. Irlandiani were formed by cellist Carina Drury in 2020, and they describe themselves as a collective of historical and traditional instrumentalists who explore Italian and Irish musical connections in the 18
th century. So they were a great fit for this year’s BREMF, its theme being Connections. But first the disc. Titled Smock Alley, it focusses on Italian and Irish music with connections to the vibrant theatre scene in Dublin centred around the Smock Alley Theatre. 

 

A core of the recording is a set of Six Duos for Two Cellos, Op. 18 by Tommaso Giordani (1730-1806), performed here by Drury and fellow cellist Poppy Walshaw. Giordani moved to Dublin in around 1764, and worked as musical director at the Smock Alley Theatre. He briefly moved to London, where these duos were composed, but returned to Dublin for the rest of his life. The duets are light and graceful, and the deep tones of the two cellos combined create a warm soundworld. Each in two movements, the opening movements generally dance along, with singing lines, the two instruments chasing one another in thirds. When the second cello is given more supporting, accompanying rhythms, they are delivered here with delicacy, never laboured, despite the arpeggio movement. But it is in the faster, second movements where greater invention occurs. In Sonata No. 2, the Allegro (Tamborino) is an energetic romp, with instructions to hit the string with the bow, Drury and Walshaw delivering precise articulation as the music races along. Sontata No. 3 has a swinging Giga, and Sonata No. 6’s spiky Allegro bounces along playfully. Another Italian, Franceso Geminiani (1687-1762) is represented here. He also spent periods of time living in Dublin, including the last four years of his life. His Cello Sonata in A major, Op. 5, No. 1 receives a stylish performance from Walshaw here, with Drury supported by Nathaniel Mander on harpsichord for the continuo part. The opening movement has an expressive line, delicately ornamented by Walshaw, followed by impressive virtuosity in the Allegro that follows, with the harpsichord brightly jangling along. There’s more dramatic expression in the third movement, and the final Allegro contains moments of melodic interaction between the cello and harpsichord. Mander also gives us some solo pieces on the recording, with two of Domenico Scarlatti’s (1685-1757) Keyboard Sonatas, prefaced by a brief Introduction to Scarlatti’s Lessons by Thomas Roseingrave (1690/91-1766). Roseingrave was an organist in Dublin, but having dropped out of Trinity College Dublin, he was sent to Venice, where he met the Scarlatti family. He published an edition of Scarlatti’s Keyboard Sonatas, and that’s where the Introduction appeared. A graceful enough prelude, it is no match in terms of invention for Scarlatti’s rushing, rhythmic Sonata in G major, K13, or his fugally complex Sonata in G minor, K30. Mander is bright, energetic and precise in the former, and brings steady clarity to the latter. He also plays a very brief Prelude for Keyboard in A major, Op. 33 No. 11 by Giordani, playful but so short it flies by in a moment.

 

So, in contrast to the Italian fare, the disc is bookended with arrangements (by Drury and the ensemble) of traditional Irish tunes. Gallway’s Lament opens the disc, with the rich, resonant cellos joined by light percussion from John-Henry Baker. Baker switches to violone (or double bass viol) for Drury’s arrangement of Francis Hutcheson’s (1721-1784) To sleep. Hutcheson was an amateur composer, and wrote using the pseudonym ‘Frances Ireland’, and this three part glee works well with the three string instruments here, dancing along playfully in the rich, lower registers. At the other end of the disc come arrangements by the ensemble of Irish tunes Molly St George and The Rakes of Westmeath, both found in Burke Thumoth (c. 1717-1747)’s 12 Irish and 12 Scotch Airs with Variations of 1748. Thumoth was a musician, performing in London theatres, as well as performing a few times at the Smock Alley Theatre, but sadly died at the young age of 29. Molly St George’s mournful melodic line over droning and gentle pizzicato from the second cello and violone is rendered even more beautifully mournful in these lower registers, while The Rakes of Westmeath brings a sudden breath of fresh air with the dancing Irish flute, played by Eimear McGeown, with Baker providing percussion on the spoons and drum. And finally, the disc ends with Carina Drury’s own composition, Caoineadh, which draws on the Irish air Caoineath na dTri Muire. A distant, mournful lament is given a dark edge with shifting, thick chords and unexpected harmonic shifts from the cello and violone beneath Drury’s melodic cello line. A fascinating disc, exploring this unusual repertoire, and the Italian and Irish connections, as well as the different soundworld created by the lower, resonant instrumentation.

 

In concert at BREMF, the line-up was slightly different, with Aileen Henry’s delicate harp replacing the harpsichord, and guest, Irish fiddle player and singer Úna Palliser injecting another stylistic influence into proceedings. The Rakes of Westmeath, with Palliser on fiddle, had a different, yet equally engaging colour here, and this also returned as their encore. A few more traditional tunes made an appearance, and there was only space for a selection of the Giordani duos. Palliser’s keening vocals brought yet another element to their fascinating mix. A talented group of performers for sure – live, a few more upbeat numbers could lift the overall mood created by the lower, moody registers of the instruments, but that’s a minor quibble. Check out the disc, but also look out for them live if you can.


Various. 2023. Smock Alley. Irlandiani. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR144.

Friday, 1 November 2024

Gothic Opera brings powerful high drama to Donizetti in Battersea

Daniella Sicari (Maria)
© Craig Fuller
Lysanne van Overbeek (director)
Leon Haxby (arranger)
Nate Gibson (set & costume designer)
Luca Panetta (lighting designer)


Daniella Sicari (Maria de Rudenz)
Theo Perry (Corrado di Waldorf)
James Beddoe (Enrico)
Harrison Gration (Rambaldo)
Alice Usher (Matilde)
Jamie Formoy (Chancellor)

Theo Perry (Corrado) & Daniella Sicari (Maria)
© Craig Fuller

7.30pm, Thursday 31 October 2024



Gaetano Donizetti (1797-1848): Maria de Rudenz
(libretto by Salvatore Cammarano (1801-1852)

'Being up close and personal to the singers made for a highly engaging performance; all performers excelled dramatically, drawing us into their heightened states of emotion'.

'Anna Castro Grinstein conducted the six-piece band in Leon Haxby’s lean arrangement with energy and precision'.

Alice Usher (Matilde) & Theo Perry (Corrado)
© Craig Fuller

'To her credit, director Lysanne van Overbeek plays it straight, which made the cumulative over-the-top dramatic crescendo all the more effective'.

'Soprano Daniella Sicari deserves the highest accolade for a stunningly powerful Maria, channelling true Gothic horror and steely control, with effortless coloratura throughout'. 

'This was a production that nonetheless packed a hefty punch, refreshingly immediate and engaging throughout'. 





Harrison Gration (Rambaldo) & Daniella Sicari (Maria)
© Craig Fuller



Read my full review on Bachtrack here.