CD Reviews - January 2021

Barry Douglas’ survey of Schubert piano works began back in 2014. In the fifth volume, Douglas presents us with two Sonatas, both composed in the final five years of Schubert’s (1797-1828) short life. As with previous volumes in the series, the disc is filled up with two of Liszt’s transcriptions of Schubert songs, here Liebesbotschaft and Ständchen, both from the Schwanengesang cycle. The Sonata in D major, Op. 53 is emphatic and energetic from the very beginning, and Douglas plays the opening movement with a lively swagger. The slow movement brings a sense of calm, and here Douglas sensitively brings out the lyrical quality of the song-like theme. As the movement ranges through many obscure harmonies, Douglas maintains momentum and the forward trajectory, and the movement’s conclusion, when Schubert expertly combines his two themes has a wonderfully cathartic completeness as a result. The Scherzo is given a jaunty bounce, and its pulsing Trio section has real elegance despite its sometimes shocking harmonic shifts. Douglas then gives the unexpectedly light, Haydnesque Rondo finale a delicate light touch, contrasting beautifully with the two more dramatic episodes. The Sonata in A minor, Op. post. 143 opens sombrely, with a funereal theme, first stated quietly, then more angrily repeated, and a sense of drama continues in the frequent soft/loud contrasts. The second theme is gentler, more prayerful, but still with sudden loud interruptions. Douglas provides suitable weighty emphasis, whilst achieving the necessary contrast with some subtle delicacy in the quieter moments. At the time of composing this, Schubert was depressed, following the onset of syphilis, and brutal treatment for its symptoms. So unlike other Schubert works where a sense of serenity shines through despite everything, this movement never escapes from a weight of despair. The second movement is calmer, despite an odd twiddling interruption in the melody which is then drawn on throughout. The finale sweeps away any residual calm with immediately racing triplets that barely let up. Douglas whips up the pressure throughout, leading up to the thundering climax. The two Liszt transcriptions are delightful. In Liebesbotschaft moves the song melody around within the texture, contrasting with the rippling ‘murmuring brook’ accompaniment, and Douglas brings out the lyricism of the melody throughout. Liszt’s treatment of Ständchen is mostly faithful to Schubert’s song, with a few repositionings of the melody and decorative effects in the final ‘verse’. Douglas gives the melody a slightly halting rubato which gives it a very effective soloistic, singing quality. 

Schubert, F. 2020. Schubert. Works for Solo Piano. Volume 5. Barry Douglas. Compact Disc. Chandos. CHAN 20157.

London based harpsichordist Asako Ogawa has already a recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations under her belt, and now she’s turned her attention to the Six Partitas BWV 825-830. These six suites are amongst the last of the keyboard suites he composed, and the most technically demanding. Yet despite being 40 at the time, they were the first of his compositions to be published. They stand as a showcase for technical brilliance, yet the variety and character in the different movements, as well as the overall style of each partita requires a great range of mood and touch. Some of you may have heard András Schiff performing the Partitas on piano at Glyndebourne in the 2019 Brighton Festival in an intensely captivating performance. On harpsichord however, they are so much lighter, and the dance forms shine through more. Ogawa is incredibly precise and nimble, taking the faster movements at a great pace, with a rattling Rondeaux and Capriccio at the end of No. 2, and a sprightly Courante in No. 4, for example. She adds subtle yet delightful ornamentation on some repeats, making the Menuet in No. 1 really dance. She makes use of a buff stop (where a strip of leather is placed against the strings, creating a muted sound) sparingly, such as in the repeat in No.1’s Sarabande, and creating almost a dulcimer effect in No. 5’s Minuetto. No. 6 is perhaps the most adventurous of the set, and there is a wonderfully free sense of mystery in the dramatic opening Toccata, with a beautifully flowing central fugue. There is more subtle ornamentation in the Allemande’s repeats, and the Corrente has driving energy, with a blistering flourish to the rapid arpeggios. The final angular Gigue would be a challenge to dance to, but here it finishes off this impressive two CD set with great spirit. 

Bach, J. S. 2020. J. S. Bach. 6 Partitas. Asako Ogawa. Compact Discs (2). First Hand Records. FHR92.

American composer Arnold Rosner (1945-2013) was new to me, and I’ve greatly enjoyed discovering his two choral masses on a disc from Blossom Street, a chamber choir of young singers directed by Hilary Campbell, founded in York but now based in London. Rosner was very much drawn to the polyphonic music of the Renaissance and early Baroque, and this is clear in the structure and form of the two masses here. However, his harmonic language is fascinating and within the construct of a mass setting, he manages to create some incredibly striking and dramatic moments. So his Missa L’homme armé, Op. 50 has the French secular song as its basis – as with many Renaissance masses, the tune is used as a ‘cantus firmus’, a sort of slow-moving spine, about which the other voices move, often using elements of the same tune. Things start out relatively conventionally in the opening Kyrie, although the harmonies become increasingly chromatic through the Christe and the second Kyrie. The Gloria contains a boisterous Laudamus te, with sliding, falling chromatic lines. The Credo is very dark in places, although suddenly bright at ‘Et resurrexit’, with a very dramatic Amen. The Hosanna is bouncy rhythmically, although the repeated ‘excelsis’ becomes rather aggressive, and it is in this movement that the harmonies are at their wildest. A calmer Benedictus gives some respite before the return of the Hosanna. Even the Agnus Dei is pretty full-blooded, although with a calmer conclusion. The Missa In nomine, Op. 62 also uses a cantus firmus, this time the ‘Gloria tibi trinitas’ plainchant. Its Kyrie is weightier, perhaps even more Romantic in terms of its texture and vocal impact. As with the Missa L’homme armé, the Gloria begins quietly, but launches into a lively Laudamus te, almost jazzy in its rhythms, and reminiscent of Poulenc in places. Following its scrunchy Amen, the Credo twists and turns with chromatic rising and falling harmonies. Renaissance simplicity returns briefly but very effectively for the Et incarnatus, with a dark, slow-moving Crucifixus. The Hosanna in the Sanctus is joyfully lively and less harsh than in the previous mass, the Benedictus is beautifully plaintive, and the Agnus Dei has dark harmonic moments, before a pretty insistent, almost demanding ‘grant us peace’ to end. Between the two masses is Peace, My Heart from Nine Tagore Madrigals, Op. 37. A setting of ‘The Gardener’ by Bengali author Rabindranath Tagore, it is lighter in texture than the masses, with lilting rhythms and contrasting groupings of voices. Blossom Street are highly impressive here in what is often very challenging music to sing, and they achieve great clarity of tone and precision in the tuning and harmonies, as well as rich energy in this frequently dramatic and fascinating choral music. Rosner wrote eight symphonies, three operas, as well as other orchestral and chamber music, and on the basis of this, he is definitely worth greater exploration.

Rosner, A. 2019. The Masses. Arnold Rosner. Blossom Street, Hilary Campbell. Compact Disc. Convivium Records. CR053.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in Scene, January 2021)

CD Reviews - August 2020

Alfredo Piatti (1822-1901) is chiefly known today as a cellist, and his Twelve Caprices Op. 25 for solo cello are a staple of the cello repertoire. However, he was steeped in operatic orchestral playing from a very early age, employed from the age of eight under the supervision of his father Antonio who led the local orchestra. Donizetti was a close neighbour and family friend, and the young Alfredo was exposed to the world of opera from the beginning, so it’s natural that when he embarked on his solo touring career in his early twenties, he took with him Fantasies that drew on well-known operatic melodies to show off his virtuosic flair. In their second volume of these Operatic Fantasies, cellist Adrian Bradbury and pianist Oliver Davies (who sadly passed away on 2 July 2020) give us four Fantasies based on operas by Donizetti, as well as ‘Rimembranze del Trovatore’ from Verdi’s opera, and the Capriccio sur des Airs de Balfe, which uses three hit numbers from operas by Michael William Balfe (1808-1870). As one would expect from the source repertoire, all of the Fantasies accentuate the dramatic as well as the lyricism of the melodies, and the cello’s singing tone is ideal for this. So in the Introduction et Variations sur un thème de Lucia di Lammermoor, the theme is taken from the opera’s climactic dramatic final aria, and after an introduction of his own invention, Piatti takes us through increasingly virtuosic variations, always exploiting the anguish and grief of the original aria. Bradbury tackles the virtuosic demands with panache, and brings out that sense of anguish in plaintive tones. The Rondò sulla Favorita, from Donizetti’s La Favorite, quotes from five beautifully lyrical numbers from the opera, and the Souvenir de l’opera Linda di Chamounix is similarly packed full of great melodies. In the days before recordings, these delightful showpieces would have delighted audiences and provided a great boost for popularising the great opera hits of the day. The Parafrasi sulla Barcarola del Marino Faliero takes the virtuosity to new heights with dazzling scale passages, ringing harmonics and expeditions to the very limit of the top string. Bradbury’s technique is equally dazzling, yet however showy the pyrotechnics get, he always returns to a simple, warm tone for the lyrical melodies. Turning to Verdi’s Trovatore, we get five numbers from the opera, and here, the piano has a little more to do, sometimes ‘singing’ the aria beneath the cello’s filigree decoration. The Capriccio sur des airs de Balfe finishes the disc, drawing on three joyously lyrical arias from Balfe’s operas.  Bradbury and Davies worked together extensively in exploring and in some places reconstructing some of this repertoire, with Davies preparing piano reductions from original orchestral scores, and Bradbury completing a cadenza, and this close study and working relationship shows in their performances. I somehow missed the first volume of these delightful Operatic Fantasies, and will definitely be seeking that out. In these strange times, these beautiful melodies, decorated with such virtuosic abandon and performed so effortlessly, provide the perfect balm. 

Piatti, A. 2020. The Operatic Fantasies, Volume Two. Adrian Bradbury, Oliver Davies. Compact Disc. Meridian Records. CDE 84659.

Back in July 2017, I reviewed a fascinating recording by Catalina Vicens, inspired by performing on what was possibly the oldest harpsichord, dating from the 16^thcentury.  For her latest recording, Organic Creatures, she takes us back even further, into the 12^th, 13^thand 14^thcenturies, performing this time on organs from that period, some original and some reproductions, including the Van Eyck organ, an organ reconstructed based on the painting ‘The Ghent Altarpiece’ by Jan Van Eyck (1432). The music on this two-disc set is a mixture of repertoire from those early centuries, including music by Hildegard of Bingen, Pérotin, Dunstaple and Isaac, as well as many anonymous works. These are interspersed by compositions by Vicens herself, as well as contemporary composers including Ivan Moody and Olli Virtaperko.  She is also joined on some tracks by fellow organists Cristophe Deslignes and Jankees Braaksma, to particularly striking effect in the lightly swinging Presul nostril temporis, an anonymous 13^thcentury piece. The soundworld here is fascinating, with the breathy sound of bellows and occasional surprising twists and bends, creating an unexpected range from such early instruments. With forty tracks spread over the two discs, there isn’t space here for commentary on every piece, and the booklet notes, whilst beautifully designed, provide little information on the music, much of which will be unfamiliar to all but the most hardened medievalists. Heinrich Issac’s (c.1450-1517) stately Si dormiero and Pérotin’s (fl.c.1200) twisting and turning Organum: Alleluia are delightful, but it is perhaps some of the anonymous works here that are the most intriguing. These range from the highly virtuosic and more substantial 14^thcentury gem, Chominciamento di gioia which forms the centrepiece of the first disc, to the weirdly spooky Audi, pontus; audi, tellus, and the persistent drone and dying bellows of Unicornus captivator, both also 14^thcentury. Vicens’ own pieces complement the programme well, as if almost improvisatory comments on the instruments and the other works. Her Creation (or the nation of creatures) is the most striking, with its vibrating harmonic clashes and ethereal whistling. Of the other contemporary pieces, Carson Cooman’s (b.1982) dancing Nova Cantiga: Rondeau is very effective, as is Olli Virtaperko’s (b.1973) touching Lamento of Ananias. Ivan Moody’s (b.1964) Inperaytriz de la ciutat joyosa is an interesting enough improvisatory exploration, whereas Prach Boondiskulchok’s (b.1985) strangely titled Squonk Diptych is more inventive, and it’s second part Chacona, with its unraveling rhythms, knocks and squeaks is the piece that stretches the bounds of the instrument most. There is a lot here to take in, and I wouldn’t necessarily recommend listening to the two full discs back to back, but this is an expertly performed and conceived project, well worth exploration. 

Various. 2020. Organic Creatures: Medieval Organs Composed - Decomposed - Recomposed. Catalina Vicens. Compact Discs (2). Consouling Sounds. SOUL0139.

Classical repertoire on the saxophone is not everyone’s cup of tea, but personally I love its lyrical potential and rounded tone. Hearing familiar repertoire on an unexpected instrument can add something refreshing, so I was looking forward to exploring saxophonist Gerard McChrystal’s new collection, Solas (the Gaelic word for light). Even more unusually, perhaps, he is accompanied throughout by the organ, played by Christian Wilson, which adds another dimension to the soundworld. And furthermore, most of the repertoire here is performed on the lesser heard (at least in a solo context) sopranino and soprano saxophones, with the alto sax making an appearance for just two numbers at the end of the disc. The disc opens with a Sonata No. 1 by Leonardi Vinci (1690-1730), originally for flute, but here McChrystal’s high trumpety sopranino sax, setting proceedings off with a bright and energetic flair. The Adagio from Haydn’s String Quartet No. 1 follows, with a reverent opening on the organ, followed by the melody ringing out on the rich soprano sax, and McChrystal’s tone here is touchingly warm. The Sonata No. 6 by Nicolas Chédeville (1705-1782) is from a set of six, ‘Il pastor fido’, sneakily passed off by Chédeville as being by Vivaldi, only unmasked as untrue in 1990. Nevertheless, the sonata is a delightful Baroque miniature, originally for recorder, and is played here on the sopranino sax, again with that bright, trumpet-like sound. From there, we enter the world of Handel, and the glorious Ode for the Birthday of Queen Anne (Eternal Source of Light Divine), originally for voice and trumpet, here a duet for sopranino and soprano sax (both played by McChrystal), creating a beautifully blended sound as the two instruments take the languid melody over from one another. There’s more Handel to come, with the sensuous aria, ‘Cara sposa, amante cara, dove sei?’ from Rinaldo, and a Violin Sonata in G minor. The aria is given to the sopranino, which McChrystal makes sing with plaintive passion, whilst the soprano sax takes the Sonata, and its more mellow tone suits this beautifully, with McChrystal tastefully ornamenting Handel’s simple lines, particularly in the Adagio. There are two more contemporary works here, firstly Green, from Darkness into Light, by Barbara Thompson (b.1944), originally composed for sax quartet, and then A Brief Story of Peter Abelard by James Whitbourn (b.1963). Green opens with gently lilting spread organ chords, before the soprano sax enters with a beautifully melismatic line souring over the top, twisting and turning. Whitbourn’s piece is a set of variations on a hymn tune by the 11^thcentury medieval philosopher, poet and musician, Peter Abelard, with more rhythmic energy and varied interplay between the organ and soprano sax. The disc concludes with the arrival of the darker alto saxophone, after the bright tones of the higher instruments. Firstly, the Choral phrygien by French composer Jehan Alain (1911-1940), a contemporary of Messaien sadly lost at an early age in the Second World War. Dark and sombre, McChrystal’s alto sax here is mournful and full of soul, setting up the mood well for the final piece, Purcell’s When I am laid in earth from Dido and Aeneas, to which the melancholic tone of the alto sax is beautifully suited. In terms of programming, some of the brighter pieces might have served better as a conclusion, but nevertheless, this is a great selection, and in particular, as a showcase for the higher members of the sax family, this is to be highly recommended.  

Various. 2020. Solas. Gerard McChrystal, Christian Wilson. Compact Disc. First Hand Records. FHR93.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, August 2020)

CD Reviews - October 2019

Lutenist Alex McCartneyhas brought to life the music of a composer who was new to him until recently, and will certainly be new to most of us too. Jean Paul Paladin (c.1500-1565) was originally from Milan, but moved to France around 1516 and worked for the courts of Francois I, Charles III of Lorraine, and even Queen Mary of Scotland whilst she was living in France. The music presented here consists of a selection of delightful Fantasias by Paladin, all of which have an emphasis on contrapuntal writing – that’s to say, a number of melodic lines working through the pieces at the same time, not at all easy to write, or indeed play successfully on the lute. Yet McCartney hides any difficulties that these present, and the results are full of remarkably smooth lines and subtle delicacy. He also includes various anonymous stately Praeludiums, taken from Hortus Musicalis Novus, as well as two ‘intabulations’ (i.e. transcriptions into tabular notation for the instrument) by Paladin of madrigals by other composers, Quand’io penso al martir by Jacques Arcadelt, and Anchor che col partir by Cipriano de Rore, followed by Paladin’s Fantasias on these works. These fantasias, particularly the one drawing on the Rore madrigal are full of beautiful lines and invention, and placing the relatively ‘true’ transcription next to Paladin’s imitation fantasias allows McCartney to demonstrate the fluidity of Paladin’s own writing for the instrument, as well as his own deft touch and ability to bring out the singing lines of this delicate music. Another delightful disc from McCartney, well worth exploring.

Paladin, J. P. 2018. Paladin. Alex McCartney. Compact Disc. Veterum Musica VM022.

Back in April I reviewed Oli Spleen’s collaboration with Birdeatsbaby, Gaslight Illuminations. He’s now released his third single from the album, ‘Furnace’, with the B-side being a version of Brahms' ‘Hungarian Dance No. 5’. Furnace is the final track on the album, and it describes a psychological rebirth after the spiritual and emotional decline and death of the preceding songs. You can see the music video to Furnace, directed by Steve Johnson on YouTube (below), and you can download the single and album at olispleen.bandcamp.com.

Spleen, O. & Fitzgerald, M. 2019. Furnace. Oli Spleen, Mishkin Fitzgerald, Hana Maria, Steve Johnson. Digital Download. Bandcamp.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, October 2019)

CD Reviews - September 2019

Violinist Tasmin Little is joined by pianist John Lenehan for a glorious programme of works by Amy Beach (1867-1944), Clara Schumann (1819-1896) and Dame Ethel Smyth (1858-1944). They open with Beach’s wonderful Sonata, Op. 34. Beach was an accomplished pianist, debuting at the age of seven, but curtailed her highly successful performing career at the request of her husband, who preferred that she concentrate only on composition.  Her Sonata is full of lyricism and great virtuosity in the violin part, but, understandably given her pianism, the piano part is no slouch. Little and Lenehan clearly relish the beauty of Beach’s lush writing, as well as enjoying the virtuosity and playfulness, particularly in the quixotic Scherzo. There is as ever a warmth in Little’s tone that is ideally suited to this expansive music, and the flourish they both bring to the fiery finale is glorious. Clara Schumann was another piano virtuoso, but interestingly she had the opposite experience to Beach, her composing more or less coming to an end following her marriage.  Her Three Romances, Op. 22 were her final chamber composition, and these three short movements are full of rich melodic invention, with rippling piano accompaniments, particularly in the lightly playful third Romance. Dame Ethel Smyth was active in the woman’s suffrage movement, and her composition career was relatively successful (Clara Schumann was in fact one of her greatest supporters), although she faced much prejudice, her music being either deemed ‘too masculine’ or ‘too feminine’, depending on whether it was dramatic, rhythmic and powerful, or lyrical and melodic. In fact her Sonata Op. 7 contains both, with a dancing Scherzo and a beautiful, lilting slow movement, flanked by a richly inventive Allegro moderato, and a fabulously unapologetic Finale. Little and Lenehan perform with pace throughout, never allowing the more lyrical moments to become over indulgent, yet the pianissimo conclusion to the slow movement has beautiful delicacy. The finale is full of spirit, yet there is subtlety in Smyth’s writing here, so this is not just a throwaway finish. Little and Lenehan respect this with great attention to detail, but do allow proceedings to build to thrilling finish. To close the disc, we’re treated to two more short works by Beach, firstly a beautifully expressive Romance, Op. 23, with its heart definitely on its sleeve, followed by Invocation, Op. 55, equally romantic, but a little more introspective. Both receive heartfelt performances from Little and Lenehan here. With Little announcing her retirement from live performance earlier this year, her vast recording output becomes all the more precious, and this is definitely one to treasure.

Various. 2019. Tasmin Little plays Clara Schumann, Dame Ethel Smyth, Amy Beach. Tasmin Little, John Lenehan. Compact Disc. Chandos Records CHAN 20030.

During his tenure as composer in residence for the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, Stephen McNeff (b.1951) wrote a number of works for the orchestra, and for Kokoro, the orchestra’s new music ensemble. He has also written music for Ensemble 10/10, the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic’s contemporary music ensemble. A selection of these works has been recorded by Kokoro, and their disc opens with Counting (Two), scored for an ensemble of solo wind, strings, piano and percussion. The rhythms are spiky and insistent, and there is a constant sense of energy in the fragments of virtuosic material passed between instruments. The central movement has a different feel, inspired by ‘an altogether different sort of ordered counting’, following a visit by McNeff to a war cemetery in Italy, and it opens and closes with a mournful, repetitive lament. Growing intensity builds to an outburst from the horn, before the lament returns. The rushing third movement brushes the sadness aside, concluding the work with a procession of winding material and persistent percussion. The Four Van Gogh Chalks are for a smaller ensemble, and open with a thoughtful, atmospheric impression, Mademoiselle Gachet at the Piano, with high violin, tinkling percussion and rippling piano and wind. Venus in a Top Hat is a quirky, slightly frenzied scherzo, and L’Écorché is darkly atmospheric. The collection ends with Couple Dancing, although their dancing is unsettlingly off-kilter, and ultimately collapses into nothing, the couple presumably exhausted from their efforts. The four pieces form a great miniature suite, performed here with great energy and precision by the Kokoro players. Next on the disc comes Strip Jack Naked, a vehicle for mezzo-soprano Lore Lixenberg. McNeff has written a considerable amount for opera and music theatre, and this is described as a ‘burlesque tragedy’ and a ‘contemporary comic opera’. The story, told in a libretto by comedy actor and writer Vicki Pepperdine, basically tells of a woman waking on her birthday and realising that people don’t like the way she now looks – so she embarks on a drastic course of cosmetic surgery, which goes horribly wrong with dark consequences. Lixenberg delivers the highly challenging mix of virtuosic singing, cutting speech and ‘Sprechstimme’ with startling command. The full work was performed on stage in 2007, and McNeff has produced a Song Suite, containing most of the songs, for this recording. The small instrumental ensemble adds moments of jazzy counterpoint and percussive emphasis, with some occasional chilling sound effects too, and despite obviously being a stage piece, this works remarkably well on disc, a testament to McNeff and Lixenberg’s impressive ability to communicate the chilling story. The final work here is Lux, for octet. McNeff explores light, how it changes and shifts, through eight sections that follow without break. The music has a spooky, ephemeral feel, fleeting and hard to pin down, like shifting shafts of light, and the faster sections have a strong sense of energy, assisted once again by driving percussion rhythms. The Kokoro players perform all this music with impressive virtuosity and clarity, and the rather dry recorded sound actually helps articulate McNeff’s complex writing, making this a fascinating exploration of his striking music.

McNeff, S. 2019. Strip Jack Naked - Ensemble works by Stephen McNeff. Kokoro. Compact Disc. Prima Facie PFCD106.

Finally, in brief, another great recording from Edward Gardner, recently announced as new Principal Conductor of the London Philharmonic Orchestra. Here he is with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, performing three Symphonies by Schubert (1797-1828), Nos. 3, 5 and 8, the ‘Unfinished’. Gardner’s Schubert is quick-paced but never rushed, and there is a lightness of touch throughout. No. 3 has charm and Haydn-esque spirit, with a blistering finale. No. 5 is more Mozartian, and here Gardner infuses the ‘little’ symphony, scored for smaller orchestra, with grace and elegance, particularly in the slow movement, yet he gives the rather straightforward Menuetto a much needed edge, and the finale rattles by in a whirl of energy. No. 8 starts whisperingly quietly, and the woodwind melody emerges out of nothing. This is a fine performance, expertly paced, never feeling rushed, but equally never wallowing in Schubert’s tempting lyrical melodies, thereby preserving the crucial arc of momentum many performances lose, and the impact of the development section’s dramatic outburst is consequently all the more effective. The seemingly calm second movement has always a sense of underlying tension, which bubbles to the surface in the second theme, over a gently pulsing off-beat rhythm, which then bursts out in a full-on tutti explosion. The contrasts here are the key, and Gardner’s dynamic range is impressive. A great opening volume, I look forward to more.  

Schubert, F. 2019. Symphonies Vol. 1: Nos. 3, 5 and 8. City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, Edward Gardner. Hybrid Super Audio Compact Disc. Chandos Records CHSA 5234. 

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, September 2019)

CD Reviews - August 2019

Pianist Jean-Efflam Bavouzet has turned his attention to the piano music of Robert Schumann (1810-1856), and he presents first the Grande Sonate No. 3, which was a revised version of Schumann’s earlier Concert sans orchestre.  As both names suggest, this is a grand statement, right from the opening flourish of the first movement, which unleashes an almost unruly cascade of ideas. The second movement Scherzo with its running scales and slightly uncertain rhythmic pulse leads to a set of variations on an Andantino de Clara Wieck, and this work stems from the period when Clara’s father was keeping the couple apart.  The variations not only play with the theme but its four part structure, and the result has a much more rhapsodic feel than a conventional set of theme and variations.  The capricious finale bursts through, full of drama, and propelled forward to the very end. Bavouzet somehow makes sense of the somewhat rambling form, bringing together into a coherent arc the disparate ideas, without allowing any of the frequent dramatic outbursts to upset the overall trajectory.  In the Faschingsschwank aus Wien that follow, a five movement collection of festive, or carnival scenes, Bavouzet is at times playful and joyous, particularly in the opening movement’s succession of dances, with the mischievous inclusion of bars of La Marseillaise, banned in Vienna at the time of composition, and at other times accentuating the intimate and passionate, in the Romanze and Intermezzo respectively.  His finale is suitably exuberant and euphoric.  The Drei Fantasiestücke are darker and more disturbed, with surging C minor waves in the first, and the outwardly hefty march of the third disguising its more wistful centre.  Similiarly, the central fantasy surrounds a darkly elusive section with seemingly song-like calm.  Bavouzet is alert to these contrasts throughout.  Finally, the Gesänge der Frühe (Songs of Dawn), which again combine an introspection and sadness, as in the opening hymn-like movement, with more confident, assertive and at times extremely agitated music, such as in the cascading fourth movement.  But a sense of calm, albeit with deep sadness, is arrived at eventually in the ‘Amen’ cadence at the conclusion of the final movement.  Again, Bavouzet is sensitive to the inherent contradictions here, and never allows Schumann’s more bombastic moments to be over-stated – the sadness and beauty is never far beneath the surface here.  A great Schumann programme, and hopefully there’s more to come.

Schumann, R. 2019. Jean-Efflam-Bavouzet plays Schumann. Jean-Efflam Bavouzet. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 20081.

Young Canadian cellist Cameron Crozman, having studied at the Conservatoire de Paris, has understandably chosen an all-French line up for his first recording.  He is joined by pianist Philip Chiu, and the two substantial works on offer here are the Sonatas for Cello and Piano by Poulenc (1899-1963) and Debussy (1862-1918). Poulenc’s Sonata, despite being sketched when the composer was demobbed in 1940 and completed just after the end of the war, it is a characteristically quirky piece, full of Poulenc’s sprightly wit. Crozman contrasts the playfulness of the first movement with the more lyrical, songlike second movement (the Cavatine that gives the disc its title) with a slightly shrill tone for the former and a richer, warmer sound for the latter.  In the Cavatine, the lyrical melody is preceded by a chorale-like piano introduction, played with warmth here by Chiu.  The scherzo-like Ballabile that follows is full of spirit, and Crozman dances through the movement with a light touch, leading to the sprightly finale. The Debussy Sonata is a different animal altogether.  Whilst it too has moments of wit, it is a weightier affair, with  heavy piano opening leading to a improvisatory cello display, and the mysterious, mostly pizzicato Sérenade, with low piano rumblings, that follows is somewhat unsettling.  The Spanish-tinged finale lifts the mood somewhat, but it still has an emphatic insistence that hints at darker emotions, unlike the Poulenc perhaps showing its time of composition, just before the First World War, more transparently. Crozman and Chiu’s reading brings out the darkness in Debussy’s harmonies and textures, yet Crozman is also totally on top of the considerable technical challenges here, with tricky harmonics, left-hand pizzicato and flautando bowing (over the fingerboard) that produces a fluty, glassy timbre.  Placing these two substantial works first in his programme means that the Koechlin (1867-1950) Chansons bretonnes that follow inevitably feel slight by comparison, but that does these modal-infused miniatures an injustice.  In the early 1930s, Koechlin wrote a collection of 20 short pieces inspired by Breton folksongs, Crozman has selected six here. They have mournful, simple melodies on the whole, allowing Crozman to show off a warmly lyrical tone, particularly in the sombre lament, ‘Notre-Dame du Folgoat’, yet he maintains a lightness of touch in ‘Iannik Skolan’.  This selection is followed by a set of Variations de concert by Jean Françaix (1912-1997) from 1950, with a bouncy, offbeat theme receiving a variety of treatments, with rapid gallops and a whirling waltz contrasting with a lilting, lyrical rendition, and a pizzicato variation with pecking piano accompaniment, all building to a whirling presto finish.  A great showpiece, and Crozman delivers its technical demands with ease. Somewhat unexpected as a finale to the disc is the movement for cello and piano from Messiaen’s (1908-1992) Quatuor pour la fin du Temps (Quartet for the end of Time), composed and premiered (with Messiaen on the piano) in a concentration camp in 1941. Louange à l’Éternité de Jésus has a longing, desperate cello melody playing out over pulsing, insistent piano chords, and Crozman’s plaintive tone, over Chiu’s soft yet ever present chords, dying away peacefully to nothing at the end makes for a poignant end to this impressive survey of varied French music for cello. 

Various. 2019. Cavatine. Cameron Crozman, Philip Chiu. Compact Disc. ATMA Classique. ACD2 2787.

And now for a great chamber music recording, taken from a live performance at Turner Sims, University of Southampton in 2017, when clarinetist Emma Johnson was joined by the Carducci String Quartet, Chris West (double bass), Philip Gibbon (bassoon) and Peter Francombe (horn). The centrepiece of their programme was Beethoven’s Septet, Op. 20, a relatively early work, and a great success at its first performance in 1800.  It is a work clearly modelled on the Mozartian Serenades or Divertimenti, but Beethoven, of course, develops the genre, not least in his chosen septet scoring. On the whole, the clarinet and/or first violin take the leading roles, but he also makes frequent less obvious groupings from within the seven instruments at his disposal, so there is plenty for all players to get their teeth into.  Johnson et al’s performance here is lively and spirited throughout, and given this is a live recording, there are remarkably few unclean moments. In general the balance is good, although when Beethoven unusually puts the double bass, horn and bassoon altogether at the end of the first movement, the sound is a little muddy.  Johnson is beautifully lyrical in the Adagio, answered with equal warmth by Matthew Denton (violin).  Francombe on horn in the star of the Scherzo, with its jumping, hopping rhythms, and Emma Denton on cello gets her star moment in the lyrical, lilting Trio.  The sound gets a little rustic in the lively final Presto, which might be polished up in a studio recording, but admirably communicates the spirit of the live performance.  They precede the Septet with an Introduction, Theme and Variations for clarinet and string quartet, attributed to Carl Maria von Weber, but in fact now thought to be by Joseph Küffner (1776-1856).  This is a beautifully summery work, with a bright joyful theme for the clarinet over a rippling, light string accompaniment.  The variations ratchet up the virtuosity for the clarinet, and the pace quickens for the final dash to the conclusion.  Johnson is bright and agile throughout here.  They end with two ‘bonbons’ – Johnson’s own arrangements for all eight players of Frülinsstimmen and Perpetuum Mobile, by Johann Strauss II. The former is a piece of fun, the waltz tunes performed with warmth and gusto, and then Johnson’s arrangement of the latter passes the interest around the players, including delightful exchanges between the clarinet and bassoon, and then violin and double bass.  A crowdpleasing conclusion to their concert, no doubt, and to this delightful disc too.

Various. 2019. Beethoven Septet, Op. 20, etc. Emma Johnson, Peter Francombe, Philip Gibbon, Carducci String Quartet, Chris West. Compact Disc. Somm Recordings Céleste Series. SOMMCD 0190.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, August 2019)

CD Reviews - October 2018

Canadian conductor Peter Oundjian is moving on from a successful period at the helm of the Royal Scottish National Orchestra, and one of his final projects with them has been to record two works by American composer John Adams (b.1947).  The first is a curious piece, Absolute Jest, for string quartet and orchestra, and the RSNO are joined by the Doric String Quartet.  The work was commissioned by the San Francisco Symphony to mark their centenary, and the only previous recording to date is by them.  Adams draws extensively, and very playfully, on music by Beethoven – you can play a bit of ‘spot the tune’, with material here from Symphonies 8 and 9, as well as the late string quartets.  The quartet rises and falls out of the overall texture, and as ever, the Dorics play with sharp precision and energy – in concert performance, the quartet is amplified to balance against the orchestral sound. There is a typically Adams-esque driving energy throughout, and it’s a great ride. The final wild prestissimo comes to a sudden halt, leaving a strange combination of cowbells, piano and harp hanging in the air, like a lost fortepiano echoing from the past.  The main work on this disc, however, is Naive and Sentimental Music.  The title is a reference to Schiller, and Adams is exploring the contrast between a simple and straightforward artistic response, and a more emotional reflection and expression.  There are lots of Adams’ signature devices here, and there was much that reminded me of his great choral work, Harmonium.  The first movement begins simply, almost relaxed, but a slow accelerando gradual builds the tension, with the straightforward melody ranging over increasingly insistent rhythms.  The movement builds to an exhausting frenzy, with thunderous percussion. The second movement, ‘Mother of the Man’, has a lilting, if occasionally rhythmically off-kilter feel, and the ‘sentimental’ here is the moving solo for steel-stringed guitar (played sensitively by Sean Shibe), coupled with a mournful bassoon solo.  The final movement, ‘Chain to the Rhythm’ starts like a quiet ‘Wild Nights’ (from Harmonium), and as the title suggests, is a tour de force of complex rhythms, which Oundjean and the RSNO navigate with impressive precision.  Adams also makes great use of percussion, with a central quieter passage evoking the gamelan.  The crashing brass and percussion conclusion comes somewhat suddenly, and it’s all over, but this is an infectious piece, and the performance here is striking and full of energy.

Adams, J. 2018. Naive and Sentimental Music, Absolute Jest. Doric String Quartet, Sean Shibe, Royal Scottish National Orchestra, Peter Oundjian. Hybrid Super Audio Compact Disc. Chandos CHSA 5199. 

Jean-Efflam Bavouzet has reached the seventh volume of his collection of the Piano Sonatas of Franz Joseph Haydn (1732-1809).  Here there are five more sonatas, although the questions of authenticity rise once again with a few of these.  The earliest here, Sonata No. 8, appeared in publication alongside four other sonatas, all supposedly by Pleyel, so whether this was from Haydn’s hand is uncertain.  It’s a simple, not particularly profound piece, with an energetically stately opening Allegro, a graceful Minuet and a rhythmically jumpy Presto to finish. Bavouzet plays with his usual bright articulation, with some rattling arpeggios in the Allegro.  The Sonata No. 46, although also relatively concise, has more interest, with running semiquavers contrasting with a stately triple time.  The second movement is more unusual, sounding like a Bach three part invention, but with a Haydn twist.  The finale has a lively theme that shifts in and out of major and minor, and Haydn varies the theme with increasingly dramatic virtuosity.  The highlight of Sonata No. 13 is the rhapsodic, fantasia-like Adagio, and Bavouzet makes it sing like an extended aria.  Sonata No. 57 is the fake here – the second two movements are transcriptions from Sonata No. 19, and the first movement is almost definitely not by Haydn, although it is not insubstantial, with winding lines like a two part invention, and some delicate octave work.  The disc closes with Sonata No. 58, with a delicately expressive and improvisatory Andante followed by a lively virtuosic Presto to finish.  Bavouzet enjoys the expansive expression of the former, and dashes off the latter with spirited energy.

Haydn, F. J. 2018. Piano Sonatas, Volume 7. Jean-Efflam Bavouzet. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10998.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, October 2018)

CD Reviews - December 2017

For violinist Johannes Pramsohler’s latest disc he is joined by lutenist Jadran Duncumb for a fascinating pairing of music by J S Bach (1658-1750) and his contemporary Silvius Leopold Weiss (1687-1750).  Weiss was one of the most important composers of music for the lute, and was renowned for his technical ability on the instrument.  So to put a Suite for lute by Weiss alongside Bach’s Partita No. 2 for violin is an interesting enough proposition.  But the main inspiration here is the Suite in A major for violin and obbligato lute, BWV1025.  In a fascinating essay the two performers discuss this work’s unclear history – is it simply an arrangement by Bach of a lute suite by Weiss, or was it in fact a work of some kind of collaboration?  Weiss certainly visited the Bach household, and the two are reported to have competed in improvisation challenges.  Whatever the work’s origins, in the form played here by Pramsohler & Duncumb the two instruments and their idiomatic styles are beautifully combined.  The recording brings the lute forward, balancing the quieter instrument against the more prominent violin – I’d be interested to hear how they manage this in live performance, but here it works well.  The Suite balances grace and poise in the opening Fantasia and stately central Entrée against livelier dancing movements such as the Rondeau and Menuett.  Both players are impressive in the Courante, building from a delicate opening to some racing runs for the violin in particular.  Following this, both players get the chance to shine individually.  First, Duncumb performs a lute Suite by Weiss, opening with a strikingly dramatic Allemande, Duncumb bringing out the dark, mellow tones of the lower registers.  The Courante ripples wonderfully, and Duncumb brings out the flowing melodic line expertly in the dancing Bourrée.  To close the disc, it’s Pramsohler’s turn, with a highly impressive performance of Bach’s Partita No. 2.  The recording acoustic is open, and Pramsohler exploits this, allowing the harmonies and lines to sing out – no scratching or digging here.  So often the rhythmic line is disturbed by Bach’s fiendish multiple stoppings or string crossing leaps, but not here.  He takes the Giga at a phenomenal pace, yet no detail is lost, and the monumental Ciaconna that finishes the Partita has a steady, consistent momentum that adds to its sublime sense of timelessness.  This is an impressive recording by two exceptional performers – highly recommended.

Various. 2017. Bach & Weiss. Johannes Pramsohler, Jadran Duncumb. Compact Disc. Audax Records. ADX 13706.

Nordic Voices are a six-voice a cappella group from Norway who perform a broad repertoire from plainsong through to newly commissioned works.  Their previous recording for Chaconne back in 2009 including some music by Tomás Luis de Victoria (1548-1611), and now they return with a full disc of works by Victoria for six voices.  They produce a full, warm yet crystal clear and blended sound throughout, with particularly rich lower voices, evident in the opening motet, ‘Quem vidistis, pastores’, when there is often a split in Victoria’s writing between the higher and lower voices.  In ‘Salve Regina’, there are some beautiful exchanges between different voices, and the singers clearly enjoy the interchanges here.  ‘Vadam et circuibo civitatem’ that concludes the disc is particularly tender, and this reflects their overall approach.  Very occasionally I’d like to hear a little more definition to individual parts, yet there is a warmth and intensity to their sound that is highly engaging.  The resurrection motet, ‘Ardens est cor meum’ is given a bit more energetic drive, and there is some smooth and sonorous plainchant from the lower voices in ‘Vexilla Regis’.  Definitely an ensemble to look out for if they visit the UK.

Victoria, T. L. de. 2017. Nordic Voices sing Victoria: Works for Six Voices. Nordic Voices. Hybrid Super Audio Compact Disc. Chaconne. CHSA 0402. 

I reviewed the earlier volumes of Jean-Efflam Bavouzet’s recordings of Beethoven’s Piano Sonatas, (read my review of Volume 2 here) and now all three volumes have been combined in a 9 CD box set – perhaps a treat for Christmas?  It’s rare that a complete cycle satisfies individual tastes across the whole 32 sonatas, but I have to say there is little here that I’d want different.  The depth of his interpretations of the later works, particularly No. 29, the ‘Hammerklavier’ is especially striking, and where I felt his ‘Moonlight’ was not dark or wild enough, that’s certainly not the case here.  And No. 32, one of Beethoven’s final statements on the instrument has that perfect combination of wild passion in the opening movement, contrasted with the profound transcendence of the final Arietta.  Standout highlights from earlier volumes must be the freshness of his ‘Pathétique’ and a towering ‘Waldstein’.  Bavouzet is clearly at the height of his game, recording and performing to a remarkable schedule, and this cycle will surely stand as a benchmark for some time to come.

Beethoven, L. van. 2017. Beethoven: Complete Sonatas. Jean-Efflam Bavouzet. Compact Discs (9). Chandos CHAN 10960(9).

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, December 2017)