Showing posts with label Clare McCaldin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clare McCaldin. Show all posts

Friday, 12 August 2016

CD Reviews - August 2016

Having recorded four volumes of British Works for cello and piano, the brothers Paul Watkins and Huw Watkins (cello and piano respectively) have turned their attention to American works for the same forces. Their disc includes works by five American composers (incidentally, three of whom were gay), and the works span forty or so years of the twentieth century.  The earliest work is by Samuel Barber (1910-1981), his Sonata Op. 6.  Barber composed the work after playing Beethoven & Brahms’ cello sonatas in Italy with Domenico Menotti, the brother of Gian Carlo Menotti, Barber’s subsequent life partner.  It is a strongly romantic work, with clear influence of Brahms, and perhaps without the individuality of his mature output.  However, Barber cuts through the lush lyricism of the Adagio with a central scherzo-like Presto, and the Watkins brothers handle this contrast expertly.  Similarly, the impassioned finale is controlled with frequent tempo changes, which can threaten the work’s coherency, but not so here.  Next up are Three Meditations by Leonard Bernstein (1918-1990), arranged by the composer from his monumental and highly controversial Mass from 1971, a musical theatre piece which intersperses settings of Latin mass movements with contrasting sections in English, drawing on several choirs, a rock band and a marching band.  Not particularly well received at the time, it still divides opinion on whether its mash-up of genres works or not.  Even in these three short Meditations, Bernstein combines earnest, almost yearning writing, and glassy harmonics for the cello in the first, spiky chromaticisms drawing on a theme from Beethoven’s Ninth Sypmphony in the second, with an unexectedly bouncy, folk dance (with Huw Watkins adding bongos rather than Bernstein’s instructions for using the piano lid for percussive effect) in the final Meditation.  A somewhat bizarre mixture of styles, Paul and Huw nevertheless make a convincing case for the work, particularly in the complex second Meditation.  Elliott Carter (1908-2012) was an incredibly prolific composer, particularly in his latter years, before his death at the age of 103.  His Sonata for Cello and Piano dates from 1948, and marks a shift in Carter’s output from a more popular neoclassicism to the beginnings of his exploration of what he called ‘temporal modulation’, where the relationship of pulse lengths become a key structural element of composition.  Once again here, the Watkins duo navigate this with expert precision, and their commanding performance here is the stand out moment of the disc.  Huw then gets a rest as Paul performs George Crumb’s (b.1929) Sonata for Solo Cello.  Composed in 1955, he dedicated the work to his mother, an accomplished cellist.  Drawing on baroque traditions in its Fantasia and Toccata outer movements, there are also strong influences of Bartók evident here.  Paul Watkins is particularly impressive in the rapid Toccata, with its almost perpetual motion throughout.  The brothers join for the final piece, the Waltz and Celebration from Aaron Copland’s (1900-1990) Billy the Kid, arranged by the composer for cello and piano.  I am not a fan of Copland in his faux-folksy mode, and after the intensity and complexity of some of the other works on the disc, these two short, rather light movements feel a little out of place, but they receive articulate and sensitive attention here.  Overall, very strong performances, and a fascinating survey of such varied composers, despite being broad contemporaries.



A few years ago I reviewed an excellent disc of mezzo-soprano Clare McCaldin singing works written for her by Stephen McNeff (b.1951), and she has returned to disc with a collection exploring the theme of female ‘madness’, entitled ‘Notes from the Asylum’.  McNeff’s and McCaldin’s working relationship has continued, and in 2013 McNeff wrote his opera in six songs for mezzo-soprano and piano, Vivienne, which McCaldin performed with pianist Libby Burgess.  The work explores the life of Vivienne Haigh-Wood, who married T. S. Eliot in 1915.  The relationship was difficult to say the least, and after Eliot decided on a separation, effectively then shunning her from his life, Vivienne’s mental and physical health finally led to her brother having her committed to an asylum in 1938, where she remained until her death in 1947, never visited by Eliot. McNeff’s six songs, using texts by Andy Rashleigh, move from Vivienne in the asylum remembering her life before her relationship with Eliot, through the turbulence of their relationship, as well as her affair with Bertrand Russell, leaving Vivienne at the end imagining Eliot visiting her and coming back to her.  McNeff writes strikingly nostalgic music, perfectly evoking a sense of the time, particularly in the spoken lines of Bertie, à la Walton’s Façade.  Yet there is a highly individual voice here too, particularly in the sense of disintegration McNeff creates in the final song, Belladonna, as the voice is left increasingly alone.  As is often the case when performers have premiered a work of this nature, McCaldin has clearly inhabited the world of Vivienne, and her performance communicates a strong sense of truth and honesty, throughout the highly virtuosic demands put on her, with real extremes of range and dynamics.  A real tour de forceVivienne actually closes the disc, and before this McCaldin moves through a good three centuries of repertoire exploring her theme and how composers, mostly but not quite all male, have portrayed in their music women with perceived madness.  Useful sleeve notes by Paul Conway discuss the prurient 17th century obsession with mental illness, and how this was reflected in the popularity of the Restoration ‘mad’ songs, of which Purcell’s ‘Mad Bess’ is a prime example, describing ‘poor senseless Bess’, presumably as a result of lost or unrequited love.  Here, it is performed in the arrangement made by Benjamin Britten (1913-1976), which adds a harder edge to the song, and McCaldin matches this accompaniment with a fuller sound than might be expected in Purcell.  Two sets of songs by Brahms (1833-1897) and Hugo Wolf (1860-1903) (who also ended his life in an asylum) are preceeded by a brief song by Harriet Abrams (1758-1821), ‘Crazy Jane’, a rather quaint setting of a text more anguished than the music might suggest, once again reflecting the image of a woman driven mad by the falseness of men.  Brahms’ Ophelia Lieder draw on texts from Ophelia’s ‘mad scene’ in Shakespeare’s Hamlet, and despite their brevity, Brahms packs an emotional punch, particularly in the final song of the set, ‘Und kommt er nicht mehr züruck?’ (‘And will he not come again?’).  Wolf set many poems by Eduard Mörike, and here McCaldin sings five, all sung from the perspective of an Ophelia-like character, Agnes.  The harmonic language is denser and more dramatic here than the Brahms songs, with strong touches of Wagner.  McCaldin’s full tone is well suited to these affecting songs, and the emotional climax of ‘Wo find ich Trost’ (‘Where shall I find comfort?’) is particularly powerful.  Jumping forward to 1971, McCaldin and Burgess are joined by clarinettist Catriona Scott for American composer Ned Rorem’s (b.1923) Ariel, Five Poems of Sylvia Plath. These are highly virtuosic settings, for all three perfomers, which capture the sense of anger and turbulence of the poetry, written shortly before her suicide at the age of 30.  The Hanging Man has a particularly challenging cadenza for clarinet, and Lady Lazarus pushes the bounds of technique for the singer, ending ‘with a loud gasp’. This is a powerful disc, and McCaldin demonstrates the wide range and adaptability of her voice across such a broad range of repertoire, but it is in Vivienne that her dramatic abililties are most impressively in evidence.  Libby Burgess (piano) also deserves praise, showing great command throughout the wide-ranging repertoire. 


(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, August 2016)

Tuesday, 3 September 2013

CD Reviews - September 2013


The Brodsky Quartet have released ‘In the South’, a collection of works designed to evoke a sense of sun, passion and dance.  The largest work here, and central to the disc’s programme is Verdi’s (1813-1924) Quartetto, his only string quartet, in fact his only extant chamber composition.  Despite the fact that Verdi rather talked it down, it is a strong work, showing his excellent command of sonata form, as well as a more expected capacity for melodic invention, and ends with a triumphant fugal finale.  Prior to this, the Brodsky Quartet give us the Italian Serenade from Hugo Wolf (1860-1903), followed by Puccini’s (1858-1924) touching Cristantemi (Chysanthemums).  The Italian Serenade is full of joy and playful dance, in contrast to the heart-rending sadness of Cristantemi, and both are performed here with consummate ease.  After the Verdi, we have La oración del torero (The Toreador’s prayer) by Spanish composer Joaquín Turina (1882-1949), an enjoyable one movement programmatic work for string quartet, evoking the scene of a bullfighter praying and receiving the holy sacrament before entering the bull-ring.  Then comes a greatmature work, Four, for Tango by Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992), originally written for the Kronos Quartet
This shows how far Piazzolla took his own Nuevo Tango, with extremes of dissonance and rhythmic effect.  They end the disc with viola player, Paul Cassidy’s arrangement of two movements from the 24 Caprices for solo violin by Nicolò Paganini (1782-1840).  The slow, sixth caprice is followed by the famous final theme and variations.  The arrangements work remarkably well, although the virtuosity is diluted in the sixth, where the challenging multiple stopping is spread out between the instruments.  However, the range of effects on display in the finale is great fun, and this finishes off another enjoyable programme from these great players.


Back in March, I was sent a wonderful CD of mezzo soprano Clare McCaldin singing music by British composer Stephen McNeff (b.1951) – you can find a review of this here.  On the back of this, I’ve been listening to a CD of his larger scale orchestral works, performed by the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Dominic Wheeler. Between 2005 & 2007, McNeff was composer in residence with the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, during Marin Alsop’s tenure as Principal Conductor.  All four pieces on this CD were written then, and premièred in Bournemouth.  The first work, Sinfonia, is in three movements, with a mysterious opening (‘Quietly and oddly’), followed by a beautifully warm and lyrical slow movement, with touches of Copland or even John Adams.  The final movement, ‘Boisterous’ has a real sense of fun, making great use of the percussion section.  Apparently, the brief for this was to ‘make it lyrical and fun’, which this definitely is.  Heiligenstadt was composed to accompany Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony in concert, and the title refers to the Heiligenstadt Testament, which Beethoven wrote at the height of his despair about his deafness.  McNeff uses brief, poignant and almost longing references to various Beethoven songs, which build to a climax, with jubilant horns claiming victory, before the work subsides into an uneasy close, almost in preparation for Beethoven’s Fifth to follow.  For Weathers, the BSO are joined by the Bournemouth Symphony Chorus, in a work drawing on the poetry of Thomas
Hardy.  Sadly, the CD does not include the words – I had to look them up, as the words are not always clear from the otherwise proficient chorus (the text can however be downloaded from the Dutton website here).  This is a great showcase choral work, with some challenging moments for the chorus.  It’s good to know that composers such as McNeff, and notably others such as Jonathan Dove, are still composing ambitious works for large chorus and orchestra.  With only occasional tuning issues, mainly in the unaccompanied opening and quieter passages of the fourth section, this is a convincing and dramatic performance, and McNeff’s imaginative and varied orchestration add to an accessible yet engaging work.  The final work, Secret Destinations, was dedicated to McNeff’s friend, the poet Charles Causley, who died in 2003, and represents three places of significance to Causley – the Rocky Mountains, the Basilica in Assisi, and Eden Rock.  Once again, McNeff’s varied use of the orchestra creates constant interest, particularly his use of percussion and the brass section.  Overall, a great showcase for a British composer I would definitely like to hear more from.


(These reviews first appeared in GScene, September 2013).

Friday, 22 March 2013

Madrigali dell'Estate - Music for voice by Stephen McNeff, sung by Clare McCaldin

I have to confess I approached this new recording by mezzo Clare McCaldin of music for voice by British composer Stephen McNeff completely blind, not knowing the performer or composer at all previously.  This is always an interesting voyage of discovery, particularly when I wouldn't have necessarily picked this out, had a review copy not been offered.

So, first of all, a bit about Stephen McNeff (b.1951).  Born in Northern Ireland, he grew up in Wales, before studying composition at the Royal Academy of Music.  He has written a considerable volume of music for opera and theatre, but also choral, chamber and instrumental works.  He has been visiting Italy since 2004, and now describes it 'something of a second home for part of the year'.

The work which gives this CD its title, Madrigali dell'Estate, is a cycle of eleven songs, setting poems by the Italian poet, Gabriele d'Annunzio (1863-1938), from the Abruzzo region in Italy.  Clare McCaldin shares an interest in the poet, and commissioned the work from McNeff, with whom she has collaborated on a number of works.  The poems together explore the sense of a languorous summer, slowly dying, and they are incredibly evocative.  The piano accompaniment, admirably played by Andrew West, has largely the role of brief, spiky interjections, whilst the vocal line is almost recitative in nature, with extreme leaps and dynamic range.  Clare McCaldin's warm, rich voice suits the atmospheric texts, and also avoids the stark vocal writing becoming too strident.

Clare McCaldin
This is then followed by a work for voice and string trio, Farfalle di Neve, composed specifically with McCaldin's voice in mind.  She commissioned the work, specifically wanting something set in Italian, and it is also a setting of two fragments of text by d'Annunzio.  The title translates as 'Butterflies like snowflakes', and is again very atmospheric, almost impressionistic.  The string trio provide shimmering scene-setting, over which McCaldin's smooth, sustained vocal lines sail.  There is less of the jerky, recitative here, with more expressive and melismatic phrases, giving McCaldin's full voice more chance to bloom.  The string trio (Philippa Mo (violin), Sarah-Jane Bradley (viola) and Jonathan Byers (cello)) provide a sensitive and suitably atmostpheric backdrop.

A Voice of One Delight explores the last hours of poet Shelley's life in the bay of La Spezia in 1822.  The work combines spoken narration, quasi recitative and sung settings of Shelly's poetry.  The narrator role is of Jane Willams, whose husband died with Shelley, and who was the object of Shelley's desire in his final months.  The singer/narrator is accompanied by flute (Kathryn Thomas), viola (Sarah-Jane Bradley) and harp (Suzanne Willison-Kawalec).  I didn't expect to like this as much as I did - speech and music is difficult to get right, yet this thankfully avoids feeling mannered or over-contrived.  In fact as the piece develops, and the strange and tragic events unfold, I found myself very much drawn into the story and slightly claustrophobic atmosphere created by the combination of just three instruments and the voice.  The flute part in particular is extremely unsettling, and the harp and viola provide often harsh, rhythmic underpinning.   A fascinating work, which I imagine would be very effective performed live.  You can see a staged version of the piece, with revised text, performed by Clare McCaldin on YouTube here.

Stephen McNeff
The disc then ends with Three Abruzzo Folk Songs, returning to Italian texts, although now in the dialect of the Abruzzo region.  The composer says they are not based on specific folk songs, but are intended to reflect the music of the the region.  Brief, and for unaccompanied voice, they provide a delightful end to a fascinating programme, and allow Clare McCaldin to show just how natural she is in the Italian idiom (to my ears anyway).

The instrumentalists on the disc are presumably members of the Orchestra Nova Ensemble, credited on the disc as being conducted by George Vass.  I'm not absolutely clear which works would have required conducting - most probably A Voice of One Delight, and possibly Farfalle di Neve, although the chamber nature of these works, I am not sure how much conducting will have been necessary.

I really enjoyed this disc, and it provides a great showcase for both singer and composer.  I would be interested to hear McCaldin singing other repertoire, and also to explore more of McNeff's compositions.


McNeff, S. Madrigali dell'Estate. Clare McCaldin, Andrew West, Orchestra Nova Ensemble, George Vass. 2013. Compact Disc. Champs Hill Records CHRCD053.