Showing posts with label Adam Swayne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Adam Swayne. Show all posts

Thursday, 25 November 2021

CD Reviews - November 2021

Irish composer Dave Flynn (b.1977) works across genres, including classical, Irish folk, jazz and rock, and is a guitarist too, again performing in many different styles. His album Irish Minimalism explores his particular take on a composition style largely associated with American composers such as Steve Reich and Philip Glass. He maintains that some of the key features of minimalism – repetition, driving rhythms, gradual incremental changes over time and relatively simple harmonic movement – all fit well in an Irish traditional musical context. Two quartets – the ConTempo Quartet and the IMO Quartet – perform four of his works here, and they are joined in two works by Mick O’Brien on uilleann pipes, as well as singer and narrator Breanndán Begley for the final work on the disc, Stories from the Old World. Two String Quartets, The Cranning and The Keening are played by the ConTempo Quartet. The Cranning has an arrestingly jagged opening, and complex dancing cross-rhythms abound. There is a stuttering reel-like section, with slides over the repeating jagged rhythms. The second movement, Slide, creates a drone effect with quiet chords building up and gently sliding from one to another, reminiscent of the pipes to come in other works here. The third movement combines Donegal dance music with Afro-Cuban and Malian rhythms, with infectious repetition, leading straight into the final movement, ‘Cran’, with its repeating figure appearing with a harsh edge on lower instruments, contrasted with a frenzied dancing version from the violins. The rhythmic pulse is gradually slowed by long drawn-out droning chords, which eventually win out over the rhythmic figure, with the instruments finally arriving at a calm unison note to end. The Keening, as the name would suggest, is more anguished, with its mysterious, murmuring opening, glassy string sounds and cello slides, all building through hypnotic keening to distressed, screeching high violins. Following a keening dirge with the first violin lamenting over droning slow-moving chords, the final movement, Cry, again uses very high pitches, with Eastern European inflections in the melodic lines, before dying away to nothing. The Cutting was originally planned as Flynn’s String Quartet No. 4, but with the addition of the uilleann pipes, it has become his Quintet No. 1 (here played by the IMO Quartet, with Mick O’Brien). Alongside the quartets this addition makes perfect sense, building on his use of drones, lilting lines and twisting and turning melodic catches. In the gently throbbing opening movement, the pipes shift from providing a drone to taking on the melodic lead over gently throbbing strings, then in the second, calmer movement, the pipes respond almost impatiently to the strings rising and falling figures at a quicker pace. The final movement begins with the pipes lilting over rocking strings before they launch into a final reel with infectious cross-rhythmic patterns. The final work here, Stories from the Old World, presents the stories in Begley’s soft and warm local Kerry Gaelic dialect (translations provided in the notes), mostly recited over simple and light accompaniment with occasional pizzicato or glassy interjections. The stories once told, the musicians take over with lively jigs and winding figures from the pipes. The tales come from Peig Sayers (1873-1958), described as ‘one of the greatest woman storytellers’ of the Gaelic Revival. They are evocative and full of bawdy humour (the second story is entitled ‘It it was with a fart I won her…’), and Begley somehow brings out this humour as well as a sense of poignancy, despite the fact that I don’t understand the language. This is particularly moving as he shifts into song in ‘The Piper and the Woman of the Tavern’, his gently lilting voice accompanied by lightly skittering pizzicato strings in the background. After the final tale, ‘The Old Hags’, the pace picks up for a lively dance, with driving minimalist repetition to finish. This is a thoroughly enjoyable and fascinating collection of works, effectively demonstrating the remarkable closeness of two seemingly unrelated musical traditions.


I reviewed pianist Adam Swayne’s first solo recording back in 2019, and was impressed then by his phenomenal technique but also his thought-provoking choice of repertoire, drawing on contemporary American music speaking to politically traumatic times. He’s back, and this time with even more challenging repertoire, both technically and emotionally. Entitled 9/11:20 Memorials on the twentieth anniversary of September 11th, he delves into how art, and particularly music, can attempt to commemorate such a traumatic event. In Tim Rutherford-Johnson’s insightful liner notes, he explores how memorial artworks have shifted from directly figurative statues to more abstract and contemplative expressions, thereby more open to individual interpretation and responses. Perhaps music is already better disposed to this kind of expression, as it would be hard to depict literally in music the reality of the events of 9/11. In Karen Walwyn’s Reflections on 9/11, she explicitly avoids the attacks themselves, focussing on impressions of the late summer morning before the attacks, followed by movements confronting different emotions following the event. Swayne selects two of the seven movements here. Anguish begins relatively sparsely, but gradually becomes denser in texture, although its richness cannot disguise the sense of trauma. Burial is equally traumatic, but perhaps more inward looking, and it ends with some kind of sense of acceptance. American composer Henry Cowell (1897-1965) was a pioneer of twentieth century piano music, particularly in terms of extended techniques such as using the forearm to play clusters of notes at once, used in The Tides of Manaunaun to colossal and dramatic effect, and in his Aeolian Harp, the practice of strumming or plucking the strings inside the piano. Fabric initially feels more conventional, but its fiendish rhythmic juxtaposition of five, six, eight and nine beats to the bar are like rich layers of fabric sliding against each other. Swayne makes this seem effortless and smooth, and the Aeolian Harp is mysterious and ethereal. So whilst the three pieces included here are not commemorative in theme, their inclusion makes sense in terms of their influence on the American contemporary piano tradition, and on several of the other works here. Kevin Malone’s (b.1958) Sudden Memorials is the most substantial work, at over half an hour across two movements. He has written other works commemorating 9/11, but this was inspired by a visit to the temporary memorial at Shanksville, Pennsylvania, close to the crash site of United Airlines Flight 93. On a section of wire fence, visitors attached objects of remembrance in a spontaneous way. In this piece, Malone includes all kinds of musical quotations from mass musical culture – there’s a high school basketball song, bits of jazz, boogie, gospel, hints of Debussy and Chopin, hymn tunes and even birdsong. These emerge from amongst crashing, highly virtuosic and resonant material, contrasting the simplicity of the memorial objects with the enormity of the event itself. It’s a visceral work, and Swayne’s performance here is totally captivating. Not an easy listen, it nevertheless grabs, even demands your attention throughout. Following the Malone, Swayne treats us to a remarkably tender and moving rendition of Scott Joplin’s Solace. This is Joplin in an unusually reflective mood, and its melancholic nostalgia fits very well following Malone’s work, full of musical references and remembrances. The collection concludes with David Del Tredici’s (b.1937) Missing Towers, which confronts the tragedy by focussing on the emptiness left by the towers’ collapse. A two-part canon circles, and a ringing pulse, together with falling melodies create a remarkably moving memorial, finishing with the pianist plucking strings in the keyboard, ‘a further expression of vanished glory’ according to Del Tredici. Once again, Swayne dazzles throughout with his technique, but more importantly given the subject matter, the programme is thoughtful and striking, and his performances transparently moving and respectful.

Friday, 14 June 2019

CD Reviews - June 2019

Pianist Adam Swayne’s first solo recital recording, ‘(speak to me) – New music, New politics’ is a fascinating exploration of American music ranging from Gershwin to a world premiere recording of Amy Beth Kirsten's (b.1972) (speak to me), which gives the disc its title.  In his liner notes, Swayne explains that the programme explores the relationship between popular music and political inspirations, in politically traumatic times (he cites Brexit and Trump as examples of this).  His technique throughout this challenging programme is highly impressive, particularly in the Four North American Ballads by Frederic Rzewski (b. 1938).  Rzewski was inspired by folk singer and activist Pete Seeger, and the four movements are based on popular American work and protest songs. There is great contrast here, between the harshly aggressive repeated rhythms of ‘Which side are you on?’ and the deceptively lilting ‘Down by the riverside’, with its increasingly menacing chromatic harmonies, before its development into a kind of boogie-woogie Bach conclusion.  The final movement, ‘Winnsboro cotton mill blues’ is positively terrifying, and the deafening, relentless sound of the mill builds to a frenzy.  Its wheeling blues riffs subside into moments of lighter blues reverie, but the overall feel is one of total tension.  In Kirsten’s (speak to me), the pianist is required to vocalise incredibly rapidly along with the dazzling, skittish rhythms on the piano in the opening movement, ‘Deceit’ – Swayne is startlingly impressive here.  The text here is ‘gibberish’, but there is an overall narrative, drawing on the story of Juno being tricked by Echo, before realising and ultimately removing Echo’s power of speech, with the final, extended voiceless movement, ‘Longing’ wandering through material from the first two movements in a kind of musing on this idea of taking away speech, a clear allusion to censorship.  Swayne creates a disturbing, slightly stifled atmosphere with almost constant pedaling muddying the waters beneath the birdlike fragments at the top of the keyboard.  In Kevin Malone’s (b.1958) ‘The People Protesting Drum Out Bigly Covfefe’ (another world premiere recording), the pianist is asked to wear and throw pink ‘pussyhats’ during the performance.  The Pussyhat Project advances women’s rights using arts and education, and here, Malone has transcribed chants recorded at anti-Trump rallies as the basis for his material.  Again, the challenges for the pianist are multiple, with massive crashing chords as well as jazz rhythms and wide leaps using the full extent of the keyboard.  At the work’s conclusion, recordings of the actual chants emerge over the top of the piano. He tops and tails the disc with Gershwin’s (1898-1937) Preludes for Piano, and Morton Gould’s (1913-1996) brief Boogie Woogie Etude.  The former are full of energy, and Swayne communicates their infectious spirit, and the latter provides a lively and impressive finale piece. An impressive display of phenomenal technique from Swayne in some striking and highly thought-provoking repertoire.

Various. 2018. (speak to me) New Music, New Politics. Adam Swayne. Compact Disc. Coviello Classics COV 91818.


Baroque music arranged for saxophone quartet? Well this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but those who have heard the Ferio Saxophone Quartet, or member Huw Wiggin’s solo performances at the Brighton Festival in recent years, will know that they are highly talented and communicative performers, and with this second disc for the quartet, they make a convincing case for their arrangements of Purcell, Bach, Handel, Corelli, as well as an earlier interloper, with Byrd’s Pavan and Gigue.  The majority of the arrangements were made by Iain Farrington (b.1977) especially for the Ferio Saxophone Quartet, and have therefore been recorded here for the first time.  A lot of the repertoire will be very familiar – movements from Handel’s Water Music, Preludes and Fugues and a Brandenburg Concerto from Bach, and Purcell’s Rondeau (used by Britten in his Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra).  In a way, perhaps because some of these ‘tunes’ are so familiar, it is actually refreshing to hear them presented in such a different way – this applies especially to Bach’s Air (somewhat destroyed for those of us of a certain age by a cigar advert). Inevitably, the saxophones’ mellow tones tends to create a homogenously smooth texture, but here particularly, Wiggins’ lyricism on the top melodic line is highly seductive.  They give a little more edge to point their lines in the fugues of two arrangements of Preludes and Fugues from Bach’s Das wohltemperierte Klavier, although again, there is an overall blended texture that tends to obscure the angular nature of Bach’s fugue melodies, particularly in the lower instruments.  Their Badinerie from Bach’s Suite No. 2 is full of energy and joy, and here their rhythmic incision is refreshing.  For Sheep may safely graze (from Bach’s Cantata BWV208), we return to smooth, lyrical textures, but here the contrast between the tenor line and the lilting soprano and alto duet on top is enchanting.  Their Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 fizzes along nicely, and the closing Allegro has an exhilarating bounce.  Handel’s Sarabande and three movements from his ‘Water Music’ follow.  The Sarabande is suitably mournful and stately, whilst the Hornpipe and Bourée are brassy and bright, and the aforementioned Pavan and Gigue from Byrd that follows is sensitively light.  The Adagio from Corelli’s Concerto grosso, Op. 6 No. 8 is sandwiched between another Bach Fugue, and Bach’s Italian Concerto to close the disc.  The Corelli again demonstrates the players’ abilities to make lines sing, with some beautifully sustained tone, contrasting well with the brief articulated central Adagio. The Italian Concerto to finish once again has energy and a lightness of touch, and the tenor line in the central Andante is mellow and lyrical, leading to a joyous Presto.  Whilst there is perhaps not as much stylistic variety on offer here as on their first disc, I was nevertheless won over by their warmth of sound, ability to communicate, and flawless ensemble throughout.

Various. 2018. Revive - Baroque arrangements for Saxophone Quartet. Ferio Saxophone Quartet. Compact Disc. Chandos Records CHAN 10999.

(Edited versions of the above reviews first appeared in GScene, June 2019)


The Surrey based chamber choir Excelsis, conducted by Robert Lewis has been joined by the London Mozart Players for a disc of sacred choral works by Clive Osgood.  The six movement Dixit Dominus that opens the disc has some rich string writing, with a particularly plaintive solo violin part in 'Virgam virtutis'.  Osgood effectively mixes relatively straightforward, lyrical settings with moments of more active rhythmic interest, such as in the lively 'Dominus a dextris'. The Exclesis singers make a strong sound, and their diction is always clear and precise, with solid tuning and smooth ensemble. They could perhaps be more nimble in the cascading lines of the closing movement, 'De torrente', but otherwise their command is assured.  Excelsis are joined by soprano Rebecca Moon for several of the works, including a highly effective setting of Beatus Vir, in which rich choral textures underpin Moon's souring lyrical line.  The more austere Hymn to the Word adds horns and harp to the orchestral accompaniment, contrasting fuller orchestral textures with passages of assured unaccompanied singing, and the work blossoms to a warm, more settled conclusion. The Peace of God, included in both settings for choir and piano, and choir and orchestra, is indeed peaceful, and the singers enjoy the smooth lines and warm harmonies, with tinges of the modern American styles of Lauridsen or Whitacre.  Brightest and Best on the other hand, with the choir joined again by Moon and the unnamed pianist, is more in Rutter territory, with its lilting triple-time rhythmic flow.  Miserere floats a high soprano solo line above the choral textures, with brief sections of chant delivered well here by the tenors.  Rejoice in the Lord Alway that concludes the programme is appropriately joyful, with brightness in its quirky addition of a solo oboe, and the singers and Lewis clearly enjoy the unpredictably offbeat rhythms.  Whilst a whole disc of choral works by a single composer does provide a good overview of their output, the downside is that there is a certain homogeneity of soundworld here, which is essentially lyrical, tonal and homophonic, with no major harmonic surprises, and seldom use of more polyphonic writing. However, many of the pieces here could be, and I am sure will be easily embraced by choirs of all abilities who are looking for new repertoire.  

Wednesday, 5 July 2017

Messages From the Sea - A Song Cycle for soprano, baritone, harp and piano by Clive Whitburn

Clive Whitburn is a composer living in Sussex, who has written a wide range of music, including chamber, orchestral and electronic music, as well as performing with two acoustic duos.  As an experienced choral singer himself, many of his more recent compositions involve choirs and singers.  He describes his music as 'usually, but not exclusively, tonal and melodic, ... rooted in the classical and baroque traditions as well as modern popular styles'.

In 2016, he was inspired by Messages From The Sea, a collection of letters and notes washed ashore on beaches, dating from the late 19th and early 20th centuries.  These were compiled by Paul Brown in a book released in September 2016.  Messages found washed up in bottles and boxes on beaches were published in newspapers around the world, and Brown collected these.  They tell a wide range of tales, some tragic, some romantic, and some containing intriguingly unsolved mysteries.


Whitburn has taken four contrasting messages and set them to music, creating a fascinating short Song Cycle for soprano, baritone, harp and piano.

The first, ‘Thompson’s Message’, tells of the demise of a passenger steamship sailing from Halifax, Nova Scotia for Liverpool in 1870, never to arrive.  It is set for soprano, harp and piano.  After the announcement of the date and location, the message contains just four short, sad phrases, telling us that the sea is sinking, and the writer says a brief goodbye, asking for his boy to be looked after.  The harp and piano exchange rippling rising arpeggios and a repeated octave motif, with the soprano line gradually sinking on each phrase.  The combination is highly effective and mournful, dying away to nothing at the end.

Next comes ‘Charles Pilcher’, a startling confession (spoiler alert!) of a man telling us that he murdered a woman, Margaret Hutchinson, and now, consumed with guilt, unable to sleep and seeing visions of her, he has decided to throw himself overboard at sea.  The message was found in 1896 between Dover and Folkstone – but the mystery remains unsolved as to who Pilcher or Hutchinson were.  Over an incessant repeated pattern on the piano, the harp tolls chords, and the soprano and baritone intone the confession.  Rising key changes as the story unfolds add to the dramatic effect, increasing the tension, until finally, the tale told, the music is allowed to die away.  Whitburn communicates the inherent unsettling nature of this tale well here in this effective setting.

‘Miss Charlesworth Presents’ is another fascinating vignette.  Violet Gordon Charlesworth was a young fraudster who claimed to be an heiress, and then faked her own death to escape debts.  The message in a bottle that turned up in Wexford Bay in 1909 was considered to be a hoax, as Charlesworth was subsequently found in Oban, Scotland, charged and sentenced to five years hard labour.  The message is a quirky, cheeky announcement of ‘Au revoir’ ‘to the press, police and public of Ireland’, and Whitburn’s setting is great fun, with a folksy, bouncy rhythm on the piano underpinning proceedings and the soprano and baritone sometimes singing together, sometimes in sequence, but maintaining the momentum of this sprightly tale.  The rhythmic pace and dynamic is a great contrast to the preceding, more subdued songs.

The cycle concludes with ‘All Is Well’, for soprano, baritone and harp.  After the darkness of the tales thus far, the final message announces the birth of a baby boy, the captain’s wife having given birth on board.  However, even this joyful message has a macabre connection – the message in a bottle was found near Dundee in 1873 inside an 11ft shark!  The setting here gives long lyrical lines to the soprano, imitated by the baritone, over simple, chordal accompaniment from the harp, ending with touching repetition of the phrase, ‘all is well’.

You can hear the full cycle on YouTube (see below) or on Soundcloud here.

The songs are given strong and evocative performances by soprano Laura Wolk-Lewanowicz and baritone Alex Roose, with Alexandra King on harp and Adam Swayne on piano. 


You can find more of Clive Whitburn’s music on Soundcloud here.