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 - 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)