Engaging solo piano works by John Carbon given strong performances by Steven Graff

I have reviewed Chicago born pianist Steven Graff playing piano works by fellow Chicago composer John Carbon (b.1951) before (here), as well as a disc of Carbon’s orchestral works (here). On his latest disc, Graff has recorded two solo piano works by Carbon. The first is a set of 24 short pieces, Short Stories, composed over a period from 2013, with the whole set being revised in 2017-2018. Although there was an original intention to follow Bach in terms of rigorous coverage of major and minor keys, and a prelude/fugue alternation, Carbon eventually moved away from that rigour, but nevertheless still aimed for a broad range of chromatic, tonal, atonal and modal languages throughout the 24 miniatures, mostly around one or two minutes long each. The ‘stories’ are enigmatic – more of a suggestion of mood, with titles such as Quantum Hobgoblin, Convocation and Paean not revealing a great deal about any programmatic meaning. Quantum Hobgoblin is playful, with cartoonish perpetual motion, whilst Convocation, with its tolling first 3 notes and fugal entries building in insistence to a dramatic, declamatory ending. Paean has a simple bare melody, and like the gently turning, pastoral Heather Bells that opens the set, reminded me a little of some of John Ireland’s solo piano works. There are pieces that reference composers, such as the lilting Tea with Claude and Maurice, full of impressionistic seconds and rippling sweeps, and Czerny’s Id, its jumpy rhythms like a slightly off kilter exercise. George Sand’s Dream is the longest piece, at around seven and a half minutes, and is a beautifully conceived piece, from a circling idea at the start, rising and falling, through a slow waltz with ringing high notes, moving into a dreamy wandering central section, before tonality finally brings certainty at the end. A winding tune emerges from dancing octaves in Guadeloupe Calypso, whilst Joplin’s Tic is spiky, and pushes the sense of ragtime into a less tonal harmonic world, before winding down to a slow stop. There is such a variety of styles and sound worlds here, and Graff is alert to every change of mood, with grand weight in the thicker textures of Momentum, as well as soft-toned, dripping smoothness in Chocolate Velvet. Coming in at just under an hour in total, this is a set packed full of interest, and Graff brings the stark stylistic shifts to life throughout. The disc then ends with a single movement work, Icarus. Dating back to 1988, it is a highly virtuosic piece, and captures a sense of the danger and folly of the Greek myth. From a glassy, atmospheric opening, the rippling rises and falls, and driving rhythmic energy builds in intensity to thundering and crashing at the midpoint. There is a sense of falling, then a more rhapsodic episode, before the thundering returns, building to a final, scarily viruosic display at the end. Highly dramatic, it is much more overtly virtuosic than the Short Stories, and shows another side to both Graff and Carbon’s command of the instrument. All in all, this is another great insight into Carbon’s varied and engaging music.

Carbon, J. 2023. Short Stories. Steven Graff. Compact Disc. Convivium Records CR085.

CD Reviews - July 2021

Johannes Pramsohler and his Ensemble Diderot have excelled themselves with their new recording of Sonatas for Three Violins. Pramsohler is joined by fellow violinists Roldán Bernabé and Simone Pirri, together with Gulrim Choï on cello and Philippe Grisvard on harpsichord and organ. The works included here cover most of the 17^th century, with a few nudging into the early 18^th. Whilst a few of the composers are familiar, many were new to me, such as Giovanni Battista Buonamente (1595-1642), whose beautiful Sonata seconda has the three violins taking over one after the other, picking up the pace with each section, building the intensity and level of ornamentation until the virtuosic canonic conclusion, and final emphatic thud from the organ. Another revelation was Johann Sommer’s (1570-1627) Der 8. Psalm, and its developing embellishment of a mournful chorale melody, with cascading violins imitating each other and dancing over the top of the sombre chorale chords. From more familiar composers, we have Henry Purcell’s (1658/9-1695) Three Parts upon a Ground and Pavane, with sighing violins, running scales and a brief solo harpsichord moment in the former, and darker, twisting harmonies reminiscent of moments from Dido & Aeneas in the latter. And Johann Pachelbel’s (1653-1706) ever familiar Canon, and the Gigue which often gets missed out, receives a blisteringly fast, and positively electric rendition here. The Canon flows like I’ve never heard it before, and all three violinists are clearly enjoying the highly virtuosic, rapid decoration at this speed. Also, the Gigue makes so much more sense, dancing away from the Canon’s bright tempo. Giovanni Gabrieli’s (c1555-1612) Sonata XXI is bright and brassy, and the contrast between the low pitch of the organ and the three high, ornamented violins, with stuttering and pulsing repeated notes rises to a glorious climax. The only work here for just the three violins, Johann Joseph Fux’s (c1660-1741) Sonata, is also an absolute gem, with the close harmony of the violins creating intertwined suspensions and clashes, with some wonderful fugues, all the more complex because of the closeness of the three voices. The players’ precision and dexterity are particularly impressive here. There’s a lightly graceful Sonata from Giovanni Battista Fontana (1571-1630), a brightly virtuosic Sonata from Giuseppe Torelli (1658-1709), and a confident and stately Sonata from Louis-Antoine Dornel (1685-1765), with several striking fugues. Johann Heinrich Schmelzer’s (1620-1680) offering presents a beautiful melody, with a bouncing faster section full of circling progressions. Thomas Baltzar’s (c1631-1663) Pavane is delicate and serene, and Carolus Hacquart’s (c1640-a1686) Sonata decima follows its grand opening with a fugue led off by the harpsichord, and concludes with a joyfully skipping dance. This is a truly joyful disc, with frankly stunning performances by the three violinists and continuo players, and an inspired selection of music showcasing the attraction for well-known and unfamiliar composers of writing for three violins. Highly recommended. 

Various. 2021. Sonatas for three violins. Ensemble Diderot, Johannes Pramsohler. Compact Disc. Audax Records ADX 13729.

Last year I reviewed a recording of piano works by American composer, John Carbon (b.1951), then unknown to me, and I commented at the time that I wanted to seek out more of his music. Low and behold, Convivium Records have come up with a two CD survey of his orchestral works, titled Inner Voices, after his 1992 three movement work which forms the centrepiece of the first disc. Carbon opens the work confidently with Tigers, although the mood quickly shifts into mystery, with brassy slides and a rather lumbering, menacing gait. Phantom comes next, with more mystery, lots of clanging percussion and brass outbursts. There’s a jazzy, Gershwinesque violin solo here too. Nightride ends the work, with quiet moments of shimmering expectation, constantly punctured by scary outbursts, and timps and snare drum dominate the clattering conclusion. There is a great variety in this collection, including three concertos, for violin, piano and double bass (the latter entitled Endangered Species). As with his piano works, Carbon creates atmospheres and images well in miniature. His suite of 14 sketches, Rasgos, inspired by Goya’s sketches in the Prado Museum in Madrid, for violin and chamber orchestra are particularly successful. Mostly just a minute or so long, these pieces are highly evocative and varied, and Carbon makes great use of the solo violin, as well as a wide range of other instruments to create different textures and atmospheres. The harp often provides mystery, and brass instruments inject drama and urgency. He pairs the solo violin with the oboe for a lament, and with the flute and clarinet for a sultrier texture. His Ghost Town Sketches are similarly brief snapshots, and once again here there is a surprising variety of textures, with the solo clarinet here paired with viola, piano, and sliding string harmonics to create that variety. The larger scale works tend to focus more on drama and tension, and Carbon makes use of full orchestral textures, with often harsh instrumentation for intensity and impact. However, when he allows more lyricism into the music, such as in the uneasy calm of the Violin Concerto’s central movement, there is real sensitivity too. Here, the yearning violin solo is beautifully underpinned by string harmonics at the end of the movement. And in the single movement Piano Concerto, the central rhapsodic section, whilst still highly virtuosic, allows for some almost Romantic pianism to shine through. And somewhat surprisingly, it is in Endangered Species that the solo double bass is the most lyrical, really capturing the sense of yearning of a creature in peril. The performances here are all highly committed and virtuosic, from both soloists and orchestras, including the Warsaw National Philharmonic, the Prague Radio Symphony, and the Concordia Orchestra, with Marin Alsop conducting the latter. Claire Chan as soloist in Rasgos deserves particular mention, as does William Koseluk in the Piano Concerto, but overall, this is an excellent survey of Carbon’s varied output.

Carbon, J. 2020. Inner Voices. Richard Fredrickson, Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra, Kirk Trevor, William Koseluk, Prague Radio Symphony, Vladimír Válek, Peter Zakovsky, Warsaw National Philharmonic, Gerhardt Zimmerman, Robert Black, Claire Chan, The Concordia Orchestra, Marin Alsop, Pittsburgh New Music Ensemble. Compact Discs (2). Convivium Records CR058.

 

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

 

CD Reviews - November 2020

Violinist Kinga Ujszászi and harpsichordist Tom Foster have been exploring the riches of an amazing archive of around 1750 works from the late 17th and early 18th centuries that has miraculously survived all that time in Dresden and is now fully digitised and freely available online. Known as ‘Schrank II’ after the cabinet in which it was stored, it gives the name to their new recording, ‘Cabinet of Wonders’ - also tantalisingly ‘Volume 1’, promising more to come. The composers - Johann Vilsmayr (1663-1722), Gasparo Visconti (1683-1731) and Johann Schreivogel (fl.1707-1749) - will no doubt be unfamiliar, but the music chosen here certainly deserves the title. Vilsmayr’s Partita in E flat major which opens the disc is remarkable, not least for the extreme ‘scordatura’ - where the strings are unusually tuned to create unusual sonorities and harmonic possibilities. The opening Prelude is arresting, with a ghostly sound initially from the violin, leading into a virtuosic Presto with beautifully sweet double-stopping here from Ujszászi. There are two lyrical Arias, the second of which is particularly mournful, then a fabulous Passacaglia is kicked off emphatically by Foster here, with Ujszászi’s rasping unison double-stops (courtesy of that scordatura) reminiscent of the hurdy-gurdy. After a brief Menuett, the Finale is a real improvisatory display, with clever echo effects, and Ujszászi really takes flight here. We then have two Sonatas by Visconti, who was a pupil of Corelli’s. The C minor Sonata is full of complex embellishments, with some oddly unexpected turns in the melodic line. 

The central movement has lots of stop-start dramatic gestures, whilst the final movement is lilting and graceful, with some unusual chromatic slides in the melody. The F major Sonata has a sweetly straightforward opening movement, and a lightly dancing Allegro to follow. The otherwise delightful Adagio has some slightly odd moments harmonically, but the Finale is captivating - a set of variations on a courtly minuet, with double-stopping mimicking hunting horns. Here again, both Ujszászi and Foster enjoy the opportunity to display their virtuosic command to the full. The three Sonatas here from Swiss-born Schreivogel are perhaps the most polished compositions, with some beautifully lyrical lines for the violin. The crying suspensions in the E minor Sonata’s opening movement, and the melancholic slow movements of the D minor Sonata, with sweet trills and embellishments, stand out in particular. The final Sonata here, the only work not from the ‘cabinet’, is a later work from Schreivogel, demonstrating how the composer’s style developed. Its lyrically operatic central movement is flanked by two fast showpieces, and in the lilting final movement, Ujszászi’s virtuosic string crossing and rapid finger work is highly impressive and a delight to listen to. On the basis of this stunning offering from the Cabinet of Wonders, roll on volume 2!

Various. 2020. Cabinet of Wonders, Vol. 1. Kinga Ujszászi, Tom Foster. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR89.

Moving forward a couple of centuries, we enter the world of the 19th century salon for a completely different but equally fascinating collection from Vaughan Jones (violin) and Marcus Price (piano), in ‘History of the Salon — Morceaux caractéristiques (1823-1913)’. Once again, most of the composers here (fourteen in all) will be unfamiliar, apart from one or two. And inevitably, particularly with this genre of essentially pleasing and melodic miniatures, some stand out more than others. So the virtuosic energy and joyful rhythms of the two Mazurkas from Aleksander Zarzycki (1834-1895), and the heart-on-sleeve operatic sentimentality of Alfredo d’Ambrosio’s (1871-1914) Aria perhaps stand out more than, say, the admittedly sweet melody of the otherwise unremarkable Méditation by Joachim Raff (1822-1882), and the pleasing nostalgia but lack of real emotional depth of the Valse Triste from Frank von Vecsey (1893-1935) (the final dedicatee of Sibelius’ Violin Concerto, which he first performed aged 13). But when performed with such commitment and virtuosic flair, as is the case here, even the lightest of offerings is a delight to listen to. There are a couple of more familiar composers here - there’s a sweet operatic Cantibile e Valzer from Paganini (1782-1840), and a lilting Barcarole with a swirling central section from Louis Spohr (1784-1859). And occasionally, the piano accompaniments rise out of the background, such as when imitating the guitar in Moritz Moszkowski’s (1854-1925) Guitarre, and in Jones’ own beautifully atmospheric arrangement of Granados’ (1867-1916) Oriental from his 12 Danzas españolas. Jones’ tone is always sweet, but he avoids sugar overload with lightness of touch and effortless virtuosity when required, such as in Franz Schubert’s (1808-1878) (not that one - a tough break to be a composer with the same name as one of the greatest composers of the time, if not ever, so he became known as ‘François’ Schubert) popular encore piece, L’abeille (The Bee). Listening to the whole collection in one go, there will inevitably be a few casualties in terms of grabbing your attention, but in isolation, each piece is a delight in its own right, affectionately performed here by Jones and Price.

Various. 2020. History of the Salon - Morceaux caractéristiques (1823-1913). Vaughan Jones, Marcus Price. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR80.

Chicago born pianist Steven Graff has performed and recorded many piano works by fellow Chicago composer John Carbon (b.1951), who I have to say was new to me. On his latest recording, he plays three sets of pieces, the longest, ‘Astro Dogs: 12 Zodiacal Pieces’ giving the disc its title. Before that come two shorter sets, the first of which, Madeleines, inspired by a trip to France with his sister when he was a student. As the name would suggest, these five short pieces are atmospheric, evoking memories and moods. There is a wistful improvisatory, almost Chopinesque feel to the opening ‘Mémoire triste dans un café’, and a darker, more funereal nostalgia in ‘François et ses yeux dangereux’, remembering the death of a boy they had met in Paris. The final piece, ‘Madeleine déteste les devoirs’, on the other hand, has a driving rhythm, with disobediently boisterous hints at children’s songs.

John Carbon

 The three Impromptus, clearly inspired by the pieces of the same name by Chopin and Schubert in particular, are dreamy and again nostalgia features highly, particularly in the wandering second. The third however is much livelier, with its almost mechanical syncopated dance reminding one of Prokofiev or Kabalevsky. Astro Dogs apparently follows an earlier guitar suite, Astro Cats (of course), and in the drily humorous notes, Carbon explains how each piece connects a particular breed of dog with each of the 12 signs of the zodiac. These are great little character pieces, from the quirky, even eastern-inflected melody of ‘Beagle (Aquarius)’, and the humorous rhythmically uneven ‘goofy gait’ of the ‘Labrador Retriever (Sagittarius)’, to the cartoonishly playful ‘Irish Wolfhound (Aries)’, with its energetic variations on ‘The Irish Washerwoman’ melody.

Steven Graff

‘Saint Bernard (Leo) is slow and rhapsodic, whilst hints of Prokofiev return in the prancing ‘Standard Poodle (Libra)’. I’m not sure I get the zodiac references, not being an astrology expert, yet despite being a cat person (I must check out Astro Cats), the characters of the dogs are cleverly portrayed here, and Graff brings this out with great variety of articulation and expression. A great discovery - and always a good sign when a recording of a ‘new’ composer makes me want to seek out more of their music.

Carbon, J. 2020. Astro Dogs and Other Piano Works. Steven Graff. Compact Disc. Convivium Records CR057.

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