Rhapsody - a beautifully constructed programme from Huw Wiggin (saxophone) and Noriko Ogawa (piano)

Saxophonist Huw Wiggin is well known both as a soloist and as a member of the Ferio Saxophone Quartet (my reviews of their discs here, here and here). He also released Reflections back in 2018 (my review here), and he has now followed that up, this time joined by the pianist Noriko Ogawa. This new collection, Rhapsody, was another lockdown-conceived project, and Wiggin and Ogawa have come up with a fascinating programme. Commissions from three composers join works by Debussy and Coates, ending with an arrangement of Liszt. Claude Debussy’s (1862-1918) Rhapsodie pour orchestra et saxophone kicks off, in an arrangement by Vincent David (b.1974). In fact, Debussy never orchestrated the work himself, with that task falling to Jean Roger-Ducasse, and the work was not performed until the year after Debussy’s death. It was commissioned by Elise Hall, a wealthy patron and musician who had taken up the saxophone, who was keen to extend the repertoire for the instrument. Accepting the commission, Debussy struggled to complete the project, and as a result it perhaps lacks the coherence of some of his other works. Nevertheless, there is some gloriously mellifluous writing for the saxophone, as well as infectiously throbbing rhythms in the latter part of the piece. Ogawa’s ethereal opening on the piano sets things up for Wiggin’s sensuous rising out of the ether, and the tone of the two instruments is beautifully matched. In the livelier middle section, the music ripples and flows along, and Ogawa in particular drives things along with the throbbing left hand rhythms which linger as relaxed calm returns, before sudden hammering repeated piano notes herald rapid motion for both instruments.

Eric Coates’ (1886-1957) Saxo-Rhapsody was at the time a successful showpiece for the instrument, but is now seldom heard. It has a relaxed warmth that is immediately engaging, and Ogawa exploits this gentle warmth in the lengthy piano introduction, before Wiggin enters with the smooth melody over soft pulsing piano chords. In the slow, swaying rhythm, Wiggin demonstrates his phenomenal breath control, floating long high notes effortlessly. The livelier central section dances along, with surging piano climaxes and rapid virtuosity for the sax. Gently lapping waves conclude the work, with the sax perhaps sailing out to sea, with another beautifully controlled long final note from Wiggin.

 

So now to the new commissions. First up is Joseph Phibbs (b.1974), with Night Paths (Rhapsody for alto saxophone and piano). Rich sax melodies weave around the piano’s chiming and rippling. The questioning sax becomes slightly more insistent, and then the piano becomes more dominant in response, driving the rhythm forward into a faster section. This conversation continues, with the sax becoming more animated in turn. Then comes a more bluesy, introspective section, with the sax hanging in the air above subtle, dark piano chords, and then a brief virtuosic coda brings things to a rapid conclusion. Wiggin and Ogawa’s exchanges are engaging, once again matching tone and mood beautifully.

 

Iain Farrington’s (b.1977) Paganini Patterns draws on the familiar and widely explored theme from the 24^th Caprice, but rather than going down the variation route he uses elements from the theme as more of an inspiration in this three movement piece for the soprano sax and piano. The opening movement is jauntily playful, with swinging exchanges between the instruments, whilst the middle movement moves into a more sensuous, cabaret-style mood, with hints of the theme in the melodic line and bluesy piano accompaniment. The final movement is a jazzy gallop, with the piano driving the rhythm beneath the freer expression from the sax. This is a joyful addition to the extensive Paganini-inspired catalogue, and a great showpiece for both players here.

 

Composer Jennifer Watson (b. 1984) is also a fellow saxophonist (performing with the Kaleidoscope Saxophone Quartet) who studied alongside Wiggin at Chetham’s and the RNCM. In Rhapsody on an Echo Chamber, for soprano saxophone and piano, she explores ideas of isolation across three connected movements with captivatingly introspective intensity. So in the first movement, the lyrical, flighty sax rises and falls like a butterfly above the moto perpetuo piano, although there is a sense of confinement, as if the butterfly can’t quite escape. Wiggin demonstrates his athletic articulation well here, before things slow to a more emphatic statement, leading into the second movement, with the saxophone now following the piano’s lead. As the piano relaxes into more lilting triplet figurations, the sax soars gently above, and once again, Wiggin’s smoothness of line is glorious. The piano’s triplets turn to trilling in an attempt to increase the intensity, but this doesn’t fully take hold, with butterfly effects on the sax returning, before the join into the final movement. Repeated piano notes set up a more rhythmically pulsing mood, and now the intensity does build, with the sax exploring both the higher (but never shrill from Wiggin) and lower registers of the instrument, over lush piano textures. Minimalist rippling figures lead to the conclusion, with a wind down to slow chords and a simple sax line, with Wiggin once again effortlessly controlling a long final note. This is the most successful for me of the three commissions, with coherent and developed use of the saxophone’s capabilities. 

 

To end their disc, there is a fun arrangement from Harrington of Franz Liszt’s (1811-1886) Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 in C sharp minor. In the stately opening, Wiggin immediately injects a cheeky sensuality, with Ogawa gently responding on the piano. Ogawa gives us bell-like filigree as the swirling dance picks up, and then with the shift into the major, they both take off like a bullet. Wiggin’s comic cartoon flourishes are great fun, and both players enjoy the increasing virtuosic requirements, with some incredibly tight, crazy chromatic scales before the final flourish. 

 

Overall, this is a beautifully constructed programme with delights new and old, from two musicians clearly in tune with each other and their repertoire. Highly recommended. 

Various. 2023. Rhapsody. Huw Wiggin, Noriko Ogawa. Compact Disc. Orchid Classics. ORC100216.

CD Reviews - December 2021

The wonderful Ferio Saxophone Quartet are back, this time joined by pianist Timothy End, with a new album entitled Evoke. They present us with three premiere arrangements by Iain Farrington for this combination, as well as a quintet by the Spanish composer Pedro Iturralde Ochoa (1929-2020). They begin with Shostakovich’s (1906-1975) Jazz Suite. In fact Iain Farrington has taken movements from two works, two from the Suite No. 1 for Jazz Orchestra, and five from the Suite for Variety Orchestra. The latter work was actually assembled not by Shostakovich himself from various of his film and ballet scores. Farrington includes the most well-known movement from the Variety suite, the Waltz No. 2. Used for the film The First Elechon, it has cropped up in many guises on TV and in adverts. With its relentless waltzing bassline beneath a captivating melody, scored for sax in the original, it is wonderfully captivating, and here it is given a subtly understated rendition with beautifully blended textures from the combined saxes. The opening March is a fun circus romp, followed by the quirkily playful Polka. The Waltz No. 1 swirls in a smooth, cabaret style, with the lower instruments kicking in seductively at one point. The Foxtrot begins with a rising stomp building up the tension before the sultry, bluesy melody takes over. In the Little Polka, the piano maintains a driving rhythmic bounce, with rapid rippling lines passed between the instruments. The Dance No. 1 (from The Gadfly) concludes the set in a virtuosic gallop evoking a busy Italian country market. The Suite is full of atmosphere and fun, and Farrington scores well for the four saxes and piano, bringing out the humour as well as the restraint of Shostakovich’s take on cabaret sultriness. Farrington’s own Animal Parade was originally for either organ or piano, but he recast six of the twelve original movements specifically for the Ferio Saxophone Quartet. Between the brief, brashly energetic Entrance and Exit, we have waddling Penguins, taking advantage of the humorous side of the sax, with slightly ungainly wiggles, and slides as they slip in and out of the water. Then comes a Barrel organ monkey in a circus style romp, followed by the Alley cats, with a bluesy, mysteriously sexy solo line for the alto sax. This is in stark contrast to the darkly lumbering Blue Whale, with the piano and lower instruments gliding ominously below. Once again in his arrangement of Bizet’s Carmen Suite, Farrington makes great use of the saxophone’s lyrical qualities to evoke the operatic characters, with the alto sax taking the lead in the Habanera over pulsing chords from the other instruments, and the baritone sax perfect for the Toreador’s Song. Yet despite the potential homogeneity of the four saxes (albeit with piano), Farrington manages to create contrasting textures, particularly in the Aragonaise, with rippling from piano and saxes in answer to the melody. The Habanera could take more play in the rhythms from the Ferios, but their gently swaying Seguidilla exudes Carmen’s joy in life’s pleasures. The final Gypsy Song is full of energy, and whilst the swirling build to its conclusion could take yet more abandon, the overall effect of this set is highly enjoyable. They finish their disc with Iturralde’s Memorias, which is a real gem. Iturralde was a saxophonist, clarinettist and composer, and this work was composed in his teens in the late 1940s. The piano gets things going in the short introduction, evoking a train speeding up and taking us on to the first destination, Lisboa, with a rising and falling melody full of nostalgia, contrasting with full passion from the full sax sections, answered with equal passion by the piano. In Casablanca, it is again the piano that leads off, and the players let rip here in this movement full of jazz, swing, boogie-woogie and ragtime. Alger restores to a slow nostalgic atmosphere, before the Retour to Spain at the end, with rich full textures created by all five instruments, and a flourish to finish. Once again, the Ferios have excelled in this imaginative and spirited programme, and Timothy End’s deft contribution, as well as Iain Farrington’s expertly idiomatic arrangements deserve equal praise here.

Various. 2021. Evoke. Ferio Saxophone Quartet, Timothy End. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 20140.

Once again, violinist Johannes Pramsohler has managed to present us with forgotten repertoire that is informative at the same time as being full of interest and enjoyment. Of course, his expertly virtuosic performance, along with equally impressive support from Gulrim Choï (cello) and Philippe Grisvard (harpsichord), is key to this ability to lift what could be a dry, academic exploration, into one of delight and enjoyment. And here, in the six Sonatas by Pieter Hellendaal (1721-1799), from a manuscript preserved in the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge, and therefore known as the ‘Cambridge Sonatas’, we learn of a lesser-known violinist composer who arrived in England from Holland in the late Baroque period, settling in Cambridge in 1762 after time in London and Kings Lynn. He had studied in Italy under the great Tartini, and he brought with him to England much of that Italian technique, style and virtuosity which was in stark contrast to the prevailing chamber music based on the viol family that would have been more familiar to English ears. Having said that, Hellendaal as a composer was no revolutionary, and once establishing a position for himself in the relative musical backwater of Cambridge, he wasn’t pushing forward into the beginnings of the Classical style already taking hold in London. However, his works contain considerable invention, and in these Sonatas, there is significant detail of ornamentation and written-out cadenza passages that indicate his virtuosic technique and compositional abilities. Pramsohler has used some of these indications as a launching point for his own embellishments and ornamentation in the same style, particularly in the slow introductory movements that begin some of the Sonatas. There is also some variety in structure, with several of the Sonatas ending with unexpectedly slow or relaxed movements, with the faster, showier movements in the centre. There are numerous challenging fugues, with the violin taking on two voices, requiring some complex double-stopping. Occasionally these lengthy fugal movements lose a little direction, as Hellendaal gets a little lost in sequential harmonic patterns (eg. the second movement of Sonata No. 2), but they nevertheless demonstrate Hellendaal’s considerable skills both as a composer and violinist. There are some delightfully expressive movements too, such as the Affettuoso third movement of No. 2, with its falling line and echo effects, expressive ornamentation and delicate underpinning from the cello and harpsichord. On the quicker side, the sprightly middle movement of No. 3 is a good example of Hellendaal’s ability to make use of the cello to exchange interest with the violin, and as the virtuosic level increases, there is some wonderful rapid duetting from Pramsohler and Choï here. It therefore comes as a bit of a surprise when this Sonata concludes with a gentle Pastorale, with drone-like double-stopping and sweetly simple repeating melodic figures. Another fugue is the highlight in the middle of No. 4, and the cadenza here is full of delicate virtuosity, with Pramsohler taking the rising bird-like figure right to the limit of the fingerboard. This time, Hellendaal finishes with a rustic, folksy dance, with violin and cello exchanging the melody. Another rustic dance concludes No. 5, with more than a whiff of the hurdy-gurdy, and striking offbeat rhythms. However, once again here, Hellendaal gets a little lost in rising sequential progressions, which takes some of the impact away from the swirling ornamented scales and deftly articulated arpeggios. No. 6, which concludes the disc, has a mournful Andante affettuoso at its heart, and Pramsohler makes the arioso line sing. Some more unusual harmonies surface briefly in the central section, and the movement ends with some buzzing trill ornamentation. Here Hellendaal ends with a lively yet simple Gavotte. A most enjoyable collection, and as ever, performed with winning energy by Pramsohler and friends. 

 

Hellendaal, P. 2020. 'Cambridge Sonatas'. Johannes Pramsohler, Gulrim Choï, Philippe Grisvard. Compact Disc. Audax Records. ADX 13720. 

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

 

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.  

Osgood, C. 2019. Clive Osgood's Sacred Choral Music. Rebecca Moon, Excelsis, London Mozart Players, Robert Lewis. Compact Disc. Convivium Records CR049.

CD Reviews - August 2018

I’ve seen Huw Wiggin (saxophone) perform solo and with the Ferio Saxophone Quartet in the Brighton Festival, and have always found him to be a highly engaging and entertaining performer, constantly expanding perceptions of what the saxophone can do.  The sax is often pigeonholed in jazz territory, but with his debut solo album, Wiggin aims to show that the instrument has much wider expressive possibilities, and he focuses on classical repertoire, much of which was composed before the saxophone was even invented in the mid 19^thcentury. Consequently, most of the works are performed in arrangement, some by pianist John Lenehan, who accompanies Wiggin here.  One can only assume that some of the other arrangements are by Wiggin, but they are uncredited, so may be from existing arrangements for other instruments. However, Wiggin makes a strong case for the diverse range of works on offer here, presented broadly speaking in chronological order, from Alessandro Marcello’s (1673-1747) Oboe Concerto right through to Japanese composer Takashi Yoshimatsu’s (b.1953) ‘Sing, Bird’ from 1991. Marcello’s Concerto, possibly known better in Bach’s keyboard arrangement, works surprisingly well here, and Wiggin is able to show off with some intricate ornamentation – not particularly authentic, perhaps, but effective nonetheless.  Two arrangements of Schubert songs, ‘Du bist die Ruh’ and ‘Die Forelle’, follow.  The former works well, with its straightforward, touching melody given a simple, unaffected touch by Wiggin.  The latter I was less convinced by, the slightly four-square nature of the well-known tune sitting less comfortably with the instrument.  Lenehan’s arrangement of the Air from Grieg’s (1843-1907) Holberg Suite works very well, however, and Wiggin spins the expressive line beautifully here.  Camille Saint-Saëns’ The Swan from Carnival of the Animals never fails to delight, and the saxophone replaces the cello well, adding extra warmth to the beautiful, familiar melody.  For two arrangements of short piano works by Debussy (1862-1918), an Arabesque and the popular ‘The Girl with the Flaxen Hair’, Wiggin is joined by Oliver Wass on the harp. The cascading harp arpeggios combine with the simple melody given to the sax in the Arabesque, and The Girl with the Flaxen Hair is given a similar treatment, with Wiggin producing a long, liquid line over the harp’s subtle accompaniment.  The 7 Canciones populares españolas (7 popular Spanish songs) by Manuel de Falla (1876-1946) are beautifully atmospheric, and combine lively dance rhythms with eastern infused lyrical melodies, such as in the dark-toned Nana.  The piano writing here is not without challenges too, particularly in the final driving Polo, and Lenehan provides incisive support for Wiggin’s passionate, lyrical lines. They move to France for Paule Maurice’s (1910-1967) Tableaux de Provence.  This and Yoshimatsu’s piece are the only pieces here actually composed for the saxophone, although the Tableaux were originally conceived for sax and orchestra.  Like the de Falla, they combine atmospheric picture-painting with livelier dance-like rhythms, and again, give Wiggin the opportunity to show off the expressive range of the instrument, and Wiggin and Lenehan both relish the set’s joyful conclusion, ‘Lou cabridan’.  Two arrangements by Lenehan of well-know works by Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992) follow, the complex Fugata followed by the darkly mournful Oblivion, and Wiggin’s sensuous performance here makes this track the standout moment for me. Rimsky-Korsakov’s The Flight of the Bumble-Bee is an ever-popular and fun showpiece, and Wiggin has the opportunity to show off his impressive technical virtuosity here.  Closing the disc, Yoshimatsu’s ‘Sing, Bird’ exploits the saxophone’s ability to bend notes and ‘fly’ up and down its registers in a bird-like fashion, with the piano part providing a rippling support.  Wiggin’s delicate articulation, particularly in the piece’s quiet conclusion, is mesmerising.  This is an impressive collection, definitely achieving Wiggin’s aim of showing the saxophone has a lot more to offer outside its traditional jazz/pop pigeonhole.

Various. 2018. Reflections. Huw Wiggin, John Lenehan, Oliver Wass. Compact Disc. Orchid Classics ORC100084.

Edward Gardner and the BBC Symphony Orchestra have followed up their well-received recording of Elgar’s (1857-1934) Symphony No. 1 with his Symphony No. 2, Op. 63, premiered in 1911 just three years after the great success of the first Symphony.  For this recording, as with the first, Gardner has paired the symphony with one of Elgar’s great works for string orchestra, this time the Serenade for Strings, Op. 20.  After the instant success of his first Symphony, the response to Elgar’s second was more of a slow burn.  Ostensibly dedicated to the late King Edward VII, it is in fact more personally inspired, Elgar saying ‘I have written out my soul’ in the work, along with the Violin Concerto and The Music Makers.  The mammoth opening movement is dominated by a passionate but stately theme, known as the ‘Spirit of Delight’ (a reference to Shelley).  Gardner and the BBCSO give this weight without ever getting bogged down, and the contrast between this and the more complex, reflective passages are all the more striking here.  The funereal second movement also has passion, but again Gardner keeps this under control, bringing out the poignancy of Elgar’s personal lament.  The short Rondo has fitful pace here, and Gardner and the BBCSO players present the finale’s complex fugal passage with taut precision.  As with all his Elgar recordings to date, Gardner never overindulges, but this is never dry or without passion either.  The Symphony is paired here with a warm reading of the youthfully charming Serenade for Strings.  Its three short movements combine lyricism and expression with gently rocking rhythms, and Gardner and the BBCSO strings give us a particularly tender slow movement here.  Another fine Elgar recording from Gardner, highly recommended.

Elgar, E. 2018. Symphony No. 2, Serenade for Strings. BBC Symphony Orchestra, Edward Gardner. Hybrid Super Audio Compact Disc. Chandos CHSA 5197.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, August 2018)

CD Reviews - September 2017

In 2015, saxophonist Huw Wiggin’s recital was the highlight of the Brighton Festival’s lunchtime concerts, and the following year he returned with the fellow members of the Ferio Saxophone Quartet to wow audiences once again.  So it’s great to see that they now have a recording contract with Chandos and have launched their debut commercial disc with a wonderful programme of original works for the saxophone quartet.  The centerpiece of the disc is a set of six Cíudades (Cities) by the Dutch saxophonist Willem van Merwijk, under his composing pen name of Guillermo Lago (b.1960).  They performed a selection of these at that Festival gig, and the persistent energy of Tokyo, the mournful, eastern inflections of Sarajevo, as well as the bustling Addis Ababa struck me as highly evocative then.  So it’s great to hear the other movements, such as the rhythmically driven Córdoba with its contrasting slow sections, and the Piazzolla-esque slow tango, Montevideo.  The quartet inhabits each of these cities, and communicates their evocative moods well.  They clearly like Lago’s music, as they have since commissioned another work, ‘The Wordsworth Poems’.  Lago’s writing is very atmospheric here too, and the quartet exploits some very quiet playing in the first movement, ‘Composed on Westminster Bridge’, to great effect.  The disc opens with an altogether more sedate affair, a delightful Grand Quatuor concertant by the Belgian composer Jean-Baptise Singelée (1812-1875), with great melodic invention, allowing each instrument to shine. This is followed by an elegant set of variations on a jaunty little theme, the Introduction et variations sur une ronde populaire by Gabriel Pierné (1863-1937).  This earlier, more Romantic repertoire allows the quartet to demonstrate their ability to create a beautifully unified, warm tone, as well as bring each instrument to the fore when required.  The recording is rounded off with a lively Hoe Down by Will Gregory (b.1959) (of Goldfrapp fame), showcasing the baritone sax amid the dancing rhythms.  Even if you don’t think you like the saxophone (although why wouldn’t you?), this deserves attention for the sheer variety of repertoire and the impressive talent of these four players.  Highly recommended.

Various. 2017. Flux: Original Works for Saxophone Quartet. Ferio Saxophone Quartet. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10987.

Johannes Pramsohler and his Ensemble Diderot bring us more rare Baroque repertoire, this time by another forgotten Dresden composer, Giovanni Alberto Ristori (1692-1753).  They are joined by Argentinian soprano, María Savastano, and Spanish oboist Jon Olaberria.  The bulk of the disc is taken up by three cantatas, with libretti written by Bavarian princess Maria Antonia who joined the Dresden court in 1747 when she married her first cousin, the Crown Prince Friedrich Christian.  Ristori’s settings of these three monologues are lively and full of dramatic interest.  There is the familiar story of Dido, abandoned and in despair, as well as the tale of Lavinia (also from the Aeneid) who is promised in marriage to Aeneis, and so is forced to leave her fiancé Turno (who Aeneis then kills!). The final story is a simpler tale of Nice’s woes over her absent shepherd lover Tirsi – and here we have a happy ending, with Tirsi taking the shape of a solo oboe for a final love duet. Savastano has a powerful, dramatic voice, and she gives full vent to the heroines’ passions.  There are long passages of recitative, yet these are filled with emotional word-setting, underpinned with dramatic instrumental flourishes.  In ‘Didone abbandonata’, Dido is a much angrier, even defiant heroine than Purcell’s rather passive characterisation, and again, Savastano relishes the passion in Ristori’s writing. But the height of dramatic pace has to be Lavinia’s final aria from ‘Lavinia a Turno’, with wildly exciting, racing strings, and a tour de force for the soprano.  Savastano’s virtuosity is very impressive here, yet she also demonstrates a gentler side in the final duet of ‘Nice a Tirsi’.  Olaberria’s sensitive playing also sets us up nicely for the final work on the disc, a delightful Oboe Concerto.  The writing for the oboe is delicate yet intricate, and Olaberria makes this sound deceptively easy.  His graceful touch in the slow movement is also lightly matched by the strings, and the courtly finale rounds things off beautifully.  As ever, Pramsohler and the Ensemble play with precision and great energy, making this yet another successful addition to their growing catalogue celebrating unknown gems of the Baroque repertoire.

Ristori, G. A. 2017. Cantatas for Soprano, Oboe Concerto. María Savastano, Jon Olaberria, Ensemble Diderot, Johannes Pramsohler. Compact Disc. Audax Records ADX 13711.

Max Reger (1873-1916) has been receiving a bit more attention of late, following the 100^th anniversary of his death last year.  Unlike the prevailing direction of early twentieth century Germanic music towards the atonality and serialism of the Second Viennese School (Schoenberg et al), Reger admired and very much followed in the footsteps of Brahms, and this is most evident in his three Sonatas for Clarinet and Piano.  In fact, it is said that hearing a private performance of Brahms’ F minor Clarinet Sonata in 1900 led him to state there and then that he would compose two sonatas for the instrument, which he proceeded to do in a matter of months.  He wrote one more Clarinet Sonata in 1908, and all three have been recorded here by clarinetist Michael Collins, with Michael McHale on piano.  They begin with the later work, the Sonata Op. 107, a weighty work at just over half an hour (the earlier Sonatas coming in at about twenty minutes each).  It is full of Reger’s characteristic rich, wandering harmonies, and like late Brahms, he exploits the dark lyricism of the clarinet to great effect.  He ends with a sunnier, playful if slightly rambling finale, although this concludes in a slower, more reflective mood.  The Sonata Op. 49 No. 1 has a turbulent, rather agitated opening movement, and both Collins and McHale give this great passion.  The strange harmonies of the slow movement’s opening bars are followed by some beautiful rhapsodic playing from McHale in particular, with Collins sailing lyrically over the top. Turbulence is never far from the surface, and although Reger never quite finds the moments of sublime beauty that his idol Brahms achieved, this is nevertheless fine chamber music that deserves greater exposure.  The Sonata Op. 49 No. 2 has another extensive first movement, followed by a bright, fleet-footed scherzo, delivered here with dazzling panache, again with McHale having the most virtuosic part to play. Throughout, Collins and McHale bring out the melodic and harmonic interest, never allowing Reger’s slightly rambling style to lose direction. 

Reger, M. 2017. Clarinet Sonatas. Michael Collins, Michael McHale. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10970.

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