CD Review - The Stradgrass Sessions - Tessa Lark
Kentucky born violinist Tessa Lark’s debut CD Fantasy in 2019 (my review here) combined her classical and folk roots admirably, but she has taken this further into American folk styles with her latest disc, The Stradgrass Sessions. She coined the term ‘Stradgrass’ back in 2015, when she was lucky enough to have a Stradivarius on loan for a few years, and was experimenting with playing bluegrass on the instrument. Moving on some years, on this disc, she combines some of her own compositions with those of other contemporary American composers, and she adds Eugène Ysaÿe’s (1858-1931) Sonata for Solo Violin No. 5 into the mix, along with three of Béla Bartók’s (1881-1945) 44 Duets for Two Violins, here recast for violin and mandolin, played by Sierra Hull (b.1991). But proceedings begin with Lark’s own Jig and Pop, a wild, moto perpetuo piece, with driving, obsessive minimalist rhythms. Incredibly fast, it has a quieter central section which dies away to a thrum, and finally halts. Hints of the motif then get things going again. This clearly sets Lark’s stall out in terms of energy and virtuosity, and it is followed by Sierra Hull’s Chasin’ Skies, a funky, jazz-infused joyful piece, originally written by Hull just for the mandolin, but clearly a great collaboration for both here, with wild virtuosity from both players. Lark follows with two more of her own fiddle tunes, Le Soka and Cheese in the Wine. The former takes inspiration from the opening line of Ravel’s Violin Sonata No. 2, with Lark swinging a melodic line with panache, whereas the latter has more of connection to Irish fiddle style. She then joins with Edgar Meyer (b.1960) for Meyer’s Concert Duo for Violin and Bass. Its gently lilting opening contrasts with the initial darkness of the bass, before the pace picks up. There are shiny, ethereal harmonise, echo effects and use of canon between the instruments. Copland-esque chords contrast with the wilder, virtuosic displays from both instruments. The second movement dives straight into rapid, shifting rhythms in unison melodies. The violin then takes up a two bar ostinato, while the bass gives wild flourishes, then the process is reversed, the violin taking over the virtuosity. Towards the end there is a fascinatingly unexpected polytonal section, almost like the instruments are unravelling, before they rejoin for the driving finish. Ysaÿe’s Sonata also has two movements, opening with L’Aurore (Dawn), where wispy signs of life move into sliding double stops, then increasingly widely spread rippling arpeggios lead to the energy and brightness of a blazing sunrise. The Danse rustique that follows begins with spread chlorides bringing out a melody, highly technically challenging, and it is a while before the dance really gets going, via lots of rhapsodic, fleeting gestures, but when it does, crazy virtuosic wildness takes hold and drives to the finish. Lark’s Hysedelje calms things down with a distinctly Nordic feel (despite the fact that she made up the title, with no apparent meaning), and its swinging rhythm is playful, right to Lark’s final ‘whoop’ to finish. Another collaboration follows, this time with fiddler Michael Cleveland (b.1980), in Lazy Katie, a gloriously energetic ‘twin fiddling’ display, with tight harmonies and fast rhythmic lines, exuding joy from beginning to end. John Corigliano’s (b.1938) STOMP follows, a competition test piece written for the 2011 International Tchaikovsky Competition. Complete with an opening theatrical train horn, non standard tuning and bluesy slides, it has moments of sad lament, before the horn returns and leads into wild stomping and scratching. The blues slows, still with added stomping, before a fast, crazy finish. In the Bartók, we have thrumming rhythms from the mandolin and a twisting violin melody in No. 35, with ethereal glassy effects on the violin before the finish. No. 39 has pizzicato on the violin matching the plucked mandolin, although the two instruments’ different timbres add an extra dimension to the gently lilting and nagging repetitions. No. 45 is a rapid swirling dance, with incredibly nimble playing from Hull on the mandolin, despite being less prominent in the texture. The disc closes with something much more contemplative and actually very touching. Lark collaborates again, this time with pianist Jon Batiste (b.1986), with their rhapsodic arrangement of Stephen Foster’s (1826-1864) My Old Kentucky Home. After a bright, high piano opening and violin harmonics, the melody emerges almost spontaneously, and the resulting exploration is conversational, with rich, evocative chords on the piano, and fragments of melody creating the sense of distant memories. Batiste gives a luxurious jazzy solo, before Lark joins again with nostalgic melodic lines. After a disc so full of energy and show, this is a bravely intimate conclusion to a fabulous showcase of Lark’s diverse talents.
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