Showing posts with label Fux. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fux. Show all posts

Friday, 30 July 2021

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 17th century, with a few nudging into the early 18th. 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)

 

Monday, 24 November 2014

CD Reviews - November 2014


Baroque violinist Johannes Pramsohler returns with his second album on his own label, Audax Records, this time with friends Varoujan Doneyan (violin), Gulrim Choi (cello) and Philippe Grisvard (harpsichord), under the name of Ensemble Diderot.  I contributed to a crowd-funding initiative to support this recording, and I have to say I am not at all disappointed with the end result.  This is an outstanding recording and one which deserves the widest recognition possible.  The repertoire is chamber music from the Court of Dresden from the first half of the 18th century, to where the great German violinist and composer Pisendel moved from Leipzig, and established phenomenal influence over a whole network of composers, some of whom we know well - Handel and Telemann, for example – but some of whom will be new names for most.  In fact the three central works on this disc, Trio Sonatas from Johann Fux (1660-1741), Johann Fasch (1688-1758) and Ignác Tůma (1704-1774) are world première recordings.  They are joined by a Trio Sonata from Telemann’s ‘Musique de Table’, and then the whole disc is topped and tailed by two Handel Trio Sonatas.  There are some great background notes from the great Reinhard Goebel (although not a great deal of specific commentary on the works themselves).  But what stands out above all is the bright, lively and delicately poised musicianship on show.  The two violins fizz and shine with perfectly matched tones, and the continuo from harpsichord and cello compliment the solo lines throughout.  The repertoire is also a revelation – one might think a whole disc of Trio Sonatas, with alternating fast, slow movements would pall, but not so.  In the Fux, there are the most beautiful, delicately ornamented duets between the two violins, and in the faster movements, they engage in a game of tag, with each violin taking over from the other as the lines rise and fall.  The Fasch feels slightly less inspired in comparison, with the rising and falling sequences feeling a little more mechanical – but again, the players create interest here nonetheless.  The Tůma fragments (just two movements here) are fascinating, the second of which has exciting faster outer sections sandwiching a short adagio.  The finale of the Telemann has a real fizz, and the Handel that ends the disc is a real joy.  If you have the slightest interest in Baroque music and/or the violin, you must hear this.

Louis Lortie is on his third volume of Chopin, and he continues his practice of alternating pieces (here Nocturnes and Impromptus), paired by connected key relationships.  This works very well, and avoids the danger of monotony that can creep into whole discs of Nocturnes, say.  He then gives over the second half of the disc to the third Sonata.  I particularly like Lortie’s approach to Chopin – as I have commented before, he allows the music to speak, and it is the composer that is foregrounded, not the pianist himself.  Right from the first notes of the delicate Nocturne in C sharp minor at the start of the disc, he draws us into Chopin’s world – and once we are there, he releases the wilder, declamatory nature of that Nocturne’s middle section.  And the fiery Impromptu that follows makes perfect sense here – with the reverse pattern of a beautifully tender and lyrical central section, highlighting Lortie’s sensitivity and beauty of tone.  This sums up his approach overall – the passionate, virtuosic moments always have a context, and are not just fireworks displays for the sake of it, and the lyricism so essential in Chopin is never lost.  When it comes to the Sonata, the constant rippling of the Scherzo has real energy.  The Finale might be the one place where a little more abandon would be acceptable, but within the context of Lortie’s consistent style, this is a great performance.

Chopin, F. 2014. Louis Lortie plays Chopin, Volume 3. Louis Lortie. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10813.

(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, November 2014)