Showing posts with label Bliss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bliss. Show all posts

Monday, 25 October 2021

CD Reviews - October 2021

The Duo Brüggen-Plank are the German pianist Henrike Brüggen, and the Austrian violinist, Marie Radauer-Plank. For their first recording with Audax, they have decided to place the last of Beethoven’s violin sonatas – the Sonata No. 10, Op. 96 – alongside a Sonata in the same key, Op. 5, composed by Jan Václav Hugo Voříšek (1791-1825). Twenty one years younger than Beethoven, Voříšek was one of the main candidates seen as successor in Vienna to the older man, although he actually died two years earlier than him at just 34 years old. Both works were dedicated to Archduke Rudolph of Austria (1788-1831), a great musical patron, and piano pupil of Beethoven, and the Duo also include a Sonata by him here too. The Beethoven Sonata is beautifully calm, yet no less challenging for that. The first movement is full of delicate conversation between the two instruments, and here, Radauer-Plank’s sweet tone is matched by beautifully warm and smooth runs in the piano part. Brüggen then gently opens the second movement with its hymn-like idea, with the violin joining in with a rocking countermelody. The instruments remain at rhythmic odds, and Radauer-Plank’s liquid playing is balanced well, with Brüggen avoiding getting bogged down by the thick textures. The brief Scherzo dances by, before the final set of variations on a cheerful theme. Here again, the Duo balance the textures well, with material passing back and forth between the instruments. In the fifth variation, the violin has throbbing chords over which the piano’s rhapsody is as if improvised, and Brüggen achieves this sense well, soon matched by Radauer-Plank as they swap roles. The Voříšek Sonata is very different in atmosphere, right from its mysterious, dramatic opening leading into a totally contrasting galloping Allegro. The movement is bright and melodically inventive, and Radauer-Plank is particularly sweet at the top of the range. An energetic, scampering Scherzo follows, with sudden halts and interesting rhythms. With hints of humour in the playful slow-up at the end of the middle section, the delicate, quiet conclusion is unexpected, swept away by final emphatic chords. The slow movement is somewhat unsettling, with low, gently pulsing rumbles from the piano, over which the lyrical violin melody rises serenely. The finale is perhaps where Voříšek’s weaker invention shows up the most – less melodically inventive, with expected harmonies on the whole – yet it brings proceedings to a fun conclusion overall. The Archduke’s Sonata again has a dark, turbulent opening, soon swept away by a virtuosic, ebullient Allegro, with a rippling piano part. There’s not a huge amount of imaginative development here, yet the Duo make the most here of the rapid exchange of ideas between the instruments. The slow movement that follows, however, is expressive and heartfelt, with freer invention and harmonies that rock back and forth. Brüggen’s piano textures are warm and rich here, and the Duo find a perfect nostalgic sweetness. The Minuet and its two Trios is playful if not particularly revolutionary, but the finale is great fun, with flourishes of fantasia-like piano episodes between returns of the punchy theme. The Duo set off at a pace, and play with great drive and energy, with some blistering playing from both in the final gallop. Ultimately, neither of these works can compete with Beethoven’s ethereal calmness, but they have much to offer nonetheless, especially given these highly engaging performances. 

Various. 2021. Sonatas for Violin and Piano - Beethoven, Voříšek, Archduke Rudolph of Austria. Duo Brüggen-Plank. Compact Disc. Audax Records ADX 13727.

The wonderful Doric String Quartet have joined forces with oboist Nicholas Daniel for a glorious collection of British Oboe Quintets. They open with Arnold Bax’s (1883-1953) Quintet. Like most of the works here, this was written for the great oboist Leon Goossens. After a warm string opening, the oboe launches into a winding, sensuous melodic line, and immediately the warmth and incredible smoothness of Daniel’s tone is apparent. After a more urgent central section, some magical muted string playing from the Dorics restores calm. The middle movement’s quiet, folk-like melody emerges on the violin over rich harmonies. The oboe eventually enters, darkly improvisatory, and with uneasy string textures, Daniel’s effortless birdlike melismatic lines soar. A joyful jig concludes proceedings, with oboe and violin taking turns, and the pizzicato strings having great fun here. The harmonies get darker and more unsettled, however, and calm is never quite convincingly restored, despite the flourish to finish. Next comes Gerald Finzi’s (1901-1956) single movement Interlude. This for me is the highlight here – Daniel and the Dorics capture perfectly Finzi’s darkly introspective and nostalgic mood, right from the atmospheric string opening. As with much of Finzi’s instrumental music, there is an expressiveness that occasionally breaks the surface with full passion, but the lid always goes back on, and the players judge this perfectly here, allowing the music to ebb and flow. The final pulsing bars under the high sustained violin are enchanting. For somewhat lighter relief, they follow this with Vaughan Williams’ (1872-1958) Six Studies in English Folksong, originally for cello and piano, but here in Robert Stanton’s 1983 arrangement for cor anglais and string quartet. All using original folksong tunes, they allow Daniel to shine on the mellow cor anglais, and by and large, the strings play a supporting role. Aside from the last of the set, they are all quite leisurely, with Vaughan Williams’ trademark strolling rhythms. Daniel plays with an open simplicity, allowing the tunes to speak for themselves, before they all then play with the final spiky jig, before even that dies away to nothing. Then to Arthur Bliss’ (1891-1975) Oboe Quintet. An intriguingly mysterious violin duet sets the tone for a darkly uneasy opening movement. After an intense, faster central section, jittery violin textures and the winding inflections of the oboe add to the sense of unease. In the slow movement, Daniel’s long sustained oboe lines are incredibly even, all the more impressive given the slithery string chords shifting beneath. Tremolo strings then increase the intensity as the harmonies darken, and following a folksy interruption with strumming cello, peace returns for a quiet ending. The finale by contrast has immediate driving string energy, and the oboe picks up the pecking, virtuosic material as they lead into the jig – Connelly’s Jig to be specific. The playful dance is dovetailed with the darker opening energy, and the Dorics give an edge to their string playing as things get wilder, almost chaotic. After a brief quieter section with pizzicato strings and fragments of melody passed around, there is a frenetic coda to finish, topped by a spiky flourish from the oboe. The disc concludes with two arrangements by Eric Fenby for Goossens of Two Interludes from Frederick Delius’ (1862-1934) final (and unsuccessful) opera, Fennimore and Gerda. Here, Daniel is privileged to play Goossens own instrument, and the tone here is noticeably different, with a warm quavering vibrato and open resonance. Both Interludes are gentle and expressive, with Daniel again demonstrating those lyrically expressive long lines, particularly in the serene second Interlude. All in all, this is a very special recording of some glorious music, and Daniel and the Doric String Quartet excel throughout.


Various. 2021. British Oboe Quintets. Nicholas Daniel, Doric String Quartet. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 20226.

Russian violinist Dmitry Smirnov has paired Bartók’s (1881-1945) Sonata for Solo Violin with Bach’s Partita No. 2 for his debut recording with First Hand Records. He has performed both works together live, interspersing the movements, but here they appear separately – although of course you could experiment with playing the tracks in a different order. There is a kind of logic to this – it’s hard for any solo violin sonata not to have some heritage line back to Bach, and Bartók’s opening movement, written in the style of a chaconne, although not strictly following its form, links with the final great Chaconne of Bach’s Partita. Bartók composed his Sonata for Yehudi Menuhin in 1944, and of course it is highly virtuosic, with fiendish scale passages, use of harmonics and rapid trilling. Smirnov is darkly evocative in the opening movement, with great dynamic contrasts, and an eerily quiet slither towards the movement’s conclusion. Dynamics are key in the second movement’s spiky fugue, and Smirnov expertly brings out the contrast between the different fugal lines. He then deftly winds the spooky melody of the third movement through the full range of the instrument, ending with wasp-like trilling, leading to the buzzing idea of the finale. This is contrasted with a more playful idea, and Smirnov changes the mood well for this, leading to the slightly incongruous solidly tonal conclusion. Smirnov’s Bach took me a little while to get used to, however. It is quick, especially the final Chaconne, and while you can’t argue with the incredible virtuosity he demonstrates, occasionally these rapid tempi lead to a tendency for elements to feel a little throwaway. The Sarabande, for example, has a lightness which misses a certain gravitas. However, his tone is smoothly resonant, and he brings out the melody from amongst the multiple stopped chords here. The overall approach is light, even playful, as in his delicate ornamentation in the Allemande. Again, he brings that lightness to the final mammoth Chaconne. As a result, it doesn’t have the profundity of some performances, and yet the mesmerizing arpeggios and whirlwind runs are highly impressive, and it is a refreshing contrast to many weightier interpretations out there. He then concludes his disc with a Sonata for Solo Violin by the Swiss composer Hansheinz Schneeberger (1926-2019), with whom Smirnov studied in his final years. Schneeberger was a highly successful violinist, and he premiered Bartók’s Violin Concerto No. 1, as well as recording Bach’s Solo Sonatas & Partitas. So there is a clear line here, and one can hear the influence of both composers in his Sonata here. Following a cadenza-like emphatic opening, the highly virtuosic material winds and twists, with some highly lyrical moments too – Smirnov’s tone here is beautifully sweet. Throughout the work, chromatic ideas slide, defying harmonic clarity, and yet there are also occasional flashes of diatonic brilliance, particularly in the central Allegro. The final movement’s constant movement is given a flowing energy by Smirnov, and he judges well the increasing pauses in motion towards the end, as if the whole thing is winding down, to the final major cadence. An effective work, performed here with great precision and virtuosity, bringing Smirnov’s display to a strong conclusion.

Various. 2021. Bartók, J. S. Bach, Schneeberger. Dmitry Smirnov. First Hand Records. FHR117.

 

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

 

Thursday, 23 February 2017

CD Reviews - February 2017


Countertenor Iestyn Davies is joined by the early music ensemble Arcangelo, directed by Jonathan Cohen, for a showcase recording of solo alto Cantatas by J S Bach (1685-1750).  These cantatas are the perfect vehicle to demonstrate Davies’ pure, even tone and Arcangelo’s range, from subtle continuo to full ensemble, always maintaining chamber intimacy.  The first cantata on the disc, BWV170 ‘Vergnügte Ruh’, beliebte Seelenlust’, opens with a beautifully warm aria, with long notes expertly sustained by Davies underpinned by a slow descending bassline and a intertwining oboe line. Davies’ recitatives are suitably dramatic, within an overall contained aesthetic, with great attention given to the text. The closing aria here has an energetic pace, with some impressive organ playing.  Cantata BWV54, ‘Widerstehe doch der Sünde’ is shorter, with just two arias and a central recitative, but the building repeated chords and suspensions of the opening aria is a highlight of the disc, with Davies delivering an even line over the pulsing accompaniment.  The descending chromatic line of the second aria takes Davies into a lower register, yet there is no audible ‘gear change’, and the overall effect is as smooth as the instruments on the same fugue theme.  Sandwiched between the alto cantatas, Arcangelo give lively performances of Sinfonias from two other cantatas, BWV52 and 174.  Here, Bach reworked movements from his Brandenburg Concertos – with BWV52, he adds hunting horns, oboes and bassoon to the third Concerto’s opening movement, whereas BWV174 comes from the first Concerto.  Arcangelo are spirited and energetic, and these provide a welcome lift amidst the more contemplative mood of the solo cantatas.  The final Cantata, BWV82, ‘Ich habe genug’, was originally for bass, and then Bach rewrote it for soprano, with a flute replacing the solo oboe, before producing a version for alto.  Here, the combination of warm oboe tones from Katharina Spreckelsen with the smooth, steady line of Davies in the opening aria is incredibly moving, and the central lullaby with its lilting accompaniment is equally touching.  An impressive and highly moving recording.


Violinist Tasmin Little joins pianist Piers Lane for their second volume of British Violin Sonatas.  The meat of the disc is John Ireland’s (1879-1962) wonderful Sonata No. 1.  With it’s turbulent opening movement, a beautifully song-like central Romance, and a folksy Rondo to finish, this is a striking work, despite being less popular than Ireland’s Sonata No. 2 which followed some seven years later.  Little is lyrical and sensitive in the touching Romance, and Lane rises to the challenges of Ireland’s weighty writing for the piano in the first movement, without allowing it to overpower the violin.  Sir Arthur Bliss’ (1891-1975) early single movement Sonata is by contrast rather over dramatic and a little over-emphatic.  It was part of a fuller Sonata that he was working on when his brother Kennard was killed in the First World War, and he abandoned the work, never completing it.  The Sonata by Frank Bridge (1879-1941) that opens the disc is another incomplete work, with the second movement completed by Paul Hindmarsh.  The opening is surprisingly brash for Bridge, but it settles down into a more recognisable style, with intriguingly unusual harmonies, and in the second movement, a galloping central scherzo surrounded by a beautifully subdued and lyrical slow section, and a subtle coda (composed by Hindmarsh, but drawing on ideas from the first movement, as Bridge would surely have done himself).  A Romance and Pastorale from Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958), both with wandering modal themes, and more than a hint of The Lark Ascending in the Romance, are beautifully performed here, with Little in particular enjoying Vaughan Williams’ meandering, rising lines for the violin.  The disc ends with a brief piece by William Lloyd Webber (1914-1982) (father of Andrew & Julian), ‘The Gardens at Eastwell’, his final composition.  It is a pleasant enough miniature, with a captivating tune, but rather inconsequential when compared with the other works on the disc.  The highlight of the disc is their compelling performance of the Ireland, but overall this is a stimulating survey of some lesser-known yet striking British chamber works.   

Various. 2016. British Violin Sonatas, Volume Two. Tasmin Little, Piers Lane. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10899. 

I recently reconnected with an old school friend, pianist Adrian Lord, discovering he has just released a recording of his own Twelve Romances for Piano, entitled Journey.  As the name would suggest, this is a very personal set of solo piano pieces, some inspired by significant places, such as childhood holidays in the Peak District, and travels in Scotland.  The album was recorded in the stunning setting of a studio at Crear in Western Scotland, overlooking the Paps of Jura.  This is a highly enjoyable and atmospheric short set of miniatures, with a common thread of rhythmic momentum and interest over simple harmonic progressions.  The result is often very effective and engaging.  There are clear references to family roots in the Lancashire mills, with spinning rhythms in ‘Blaize’ and ‘Revolutions’, and a similar sense of perpetual motion in the hypnotic opening ‘Prelude’.  The pieces are united by their use of repetition and arpeggiated patterns, yet variety is achieved in imaginative use of dynamics, such as in the fiery sections of ‘Wildfire’, and the moving concluding ‘Time to Remember’, written in memory of his recently deceased mother.  Adrian performs this personal collection with conviction, and the quasi-improvisatory nature of his compositions makes for very engaging listen. 


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

Monday, 20 May 2013

CD Reviews - May 2013


First of all, violinist Tasmin Little and pianist Piers Lane with Violin Sonatas by Richard Strauss (1864-1949) and Ottorino Respighi (1879-1936).  Both composers produced just one sonata each, but Respighi produced a set of Six Pieces (Sei pezzi) for violin and piano, of which three are included here.  Strauss’ Sonata is an unashamedly romantic work, composed when he was 23, and had met Pauline de Ahna, who he later married.  Right from the opening the central role of the piano is clear, with a vocal, almost operatic violin part.  Little produces a luscious, warm tone, with full-bodied accompaniment from Lane.  The beautiful central Andante has singing lines, with delicate filigree accompaniment, contrasting with the dark piano opening to the Finale, before both players are unleashed, and let rip with swaggering abandon, reminiscent of Don Juan.  In the Respighi Sonata, the violin is more forward – the piano part is still virtuosic, but more in response to or underpinning the extremes of the violin.  This work is also harmonically more unusual than the Strauss.  The slow movement is introspective, with rhapsodic piano writing, building to a climax of torment before subsiding into calm.  The Finale is a driven passacaglia, with great rhythmic propulsion, its 20 variations a real tour de force for both players.  After a brief respite for slow, chorale-like middle variations comes a singing, violin led variation.  A dark, pesante variation comes before the fast rhythmic drive returns, the piano writing now reminiscent of Rachmaninov.  The Sei pezzi are much smaller in scale, with a real salon feel. Melodia has a sweet tune, with a hint of something darker in its central section.  The Valse caressante has a shimmering piano opening, with a lilting, romantic feel, and Little & Lane really dance here.  The closing Serenata is suitably elegiac and sensitive.

            
Now for three works for viola and piano, from violist Christian Euler, with pianist Paul Rivinius.  They begin their disc with the Sonata by Arthur Bliss (1891-1975).  They launch straight into a swirling, turbulent opening movement, both instruments working hard together, with only brief calm moments of respite, yet surprisingly the movement ends rather suddenly and quietly, ushering in the dark central Andante.  This opens with mysterious viola pizzicato over dark piano chords, before the viola takes off with an almost eastern melody, and the movement then grows in challenge, particularly for the viola, using the uppermost registers of the instrument, before closing with the strange pizzicato textures of the opening.  The Furiant finale is a real stretch for both players, and they carry it off with appropriate élan.  The Sonata from Arnold Bax (1883-1953) has a slightly sinister opening, with glassy piano chords beneath a modal, Celtic viola line.  The slow Finale has thick, heavy piano chords, and feels sombre and quite impressionistic, yet with a surprisingly relaxed conclusion.  Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958) composed his Suite originally for viola and small orchestra, but also arranged the work for viola and piano, which is what we have here.  The eight pieces form three thematic groupings – Christmas (Prelude, Carol, Christmas Dance), Folk (Ballad, Moto perpetuo) and Dance (Musette, Polka and Galop).  This is an enjoyable work, although I miss the greater variety of textures the orchestral version offers.  All the works on this disc were dedicated to the celebrated violist Lionel Tertis, who also premiered all three.  Overall, these are fine performances, with only the occasional shrillness of tone in the upper registers of the viola. 


The prolific clarinetist Michael Collins has yet another disc out, this time of Clarinet Concertos, with the Swedish Chamber Orchestra, which he also conducts.  Yet this is not a straightforward concerto set – we have the classic Mozart Concerto, coupled with Copland’s Clarinet Concerto, composed for the great jazz clarinetist Benny Goodman, but we also have a concerto work from Australian composer Elena Kats-Chermin (b.1957), entitled ‘Ornmental Air’, and composed with Collins as soloist in mind.  Collins uses a basset clarinet for the Mozart, and the Kats-Chernin piece was also written for this deeper clarinet with an extended lower range.  Collins’ Mozart is incredibly smooth and silky, and his obvious communication with the orchestra as soloist/conductor gives this modern instruments performance an intimate chamber feel.  The Copland which follows is also remarkably tight given the absence of a separate conductor, and has great life and perkiness.  Collins plays the central cadenza with ease – in fact it is this incredible ease which characterises the disc as a whole, with the blend between soloist and orchestra intuitive throughout.  Kats-Chernin uses the same orchestral forces as the Mozart, and was intended as a companion piece, although beyond this there are few similarities.  The rhythmic, 5/4 drive in the first movement reminded me at times of John Adams, although it slightly runs out of steam towards the end of the movement.  This is followed by a cadenza passage, leading to the second movement, with a bluesy take on Liszt’s Liebestraum No. 3.  The pace picks up again, and the energy returns for the final movement, driving right to the finish.  Overall, these are not showy performances, but respectful and at all times sensitive to the diverse musical styles, quite an achievement in this wide-ranging repertoire.   

           
Pianist Steffen Schleiermacher’s new recording of the Catalan composer Federico Mompou’s (1893-1987) cycle Música Callada is a real find.  The title loosely translates as ‘Silent Music’, and comes from a poem by the sixteenth century Spanish mystic, San Juan de la Cruz.  This collection of 28 short pieces, in four Books, was composed between 1959 and 1967, when the rest of the classical world were engrossed in electronics and serialism.  These delicate miniatures are a world away from that, and seem to come from an earlier time, perhaps closest to Eric Satie, with a touch of Ravel – not surprising since he studied in Paris in 1911 and was close to ‘Les Six’, the group of composers which included Poulenc, Honegger and Milhaud.  These miniatures are almost all slow in tempo, yet Mompou somehow avoids monotony and the set builds to create a beautiful dreamlike atmosphere.  Schleiermacher’s sensitivity and variety of tone maintained my interest throughout.  A great discovery.  


(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, May 2013).