In the month of International Women’s Day, I am happy to say that by chance rather than design, I have ended up with three great recordings to review, as well as a range of concert listings, that feature no fewer than 14 women composers, 4 women conductors and 10 women performers. This shouldn’t be unusual, yet it still us - but it’s a sign of some progress that I haven’t explicitly gone looking for this. Credit should also go to the three recordings’ shared record company, First Hand Records, for supporting such a diverse range of music composed and performed by women.
Reviews
Late last year, The Telling released a new album, partly in response to the very sad and sudden loss of singer Ariane Prüssner earlier that year. The album consists of two soundtracks to ‘concertplays’, something the group have become so well known for. ‘Vision’ is the imagined testimony of Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179), and‘Unsung Heroine’charts the imagined life and love of troubadour Beatriz de Dia, who was possibly born in the early 1140s and died around 1212. You may have caught both of these concertplays over the years in Brighton, as the other lead singer and founder of The Telling, Clare Norburn was also founder and co-director for many years of Brighton Early Music Festival. The music on this recording consists of soundtracks for film versions of the plays made in 2020 following the first lockdown. Both soundtracks are testament to the chemistry of Clare Norburn’s soaring soprano and Ariane Prüssner’s rich, deep mezzo-soprano, so passionately expressive when combined. In Vision, they explore the beauty but also the pain of Hildegard’s often shocking visions. There are moments of ecstasy, such as when Norburn’s solo line bursts forth above the simple harp accompaniment (Jean Kelly on medieval harp here) in Ave generosa, or when Prüssner’s rich tones circle and wind passionately in Columba aspexit. In Unsung Heroine, we enter the world of the troubadour, with a whole range of songs drawing on Beatrix de Dia’s poetry, some with existing vocal lines, some borrowed from other songs of the time. There’s lots of forbidden love and jealousy here, as well as the distress of betrayal, the latter evocatively expressed by Norburn’s rise to stratospheric heights in Estat ai en greu cossirier (‘I have been in a state of great distress’). Prüssner on the other hand gives us the passion of two lovers and a jealous husband, and a love that can never be, in Kalenda mia (‘May Day’), here accompanied by harp (Joy Smith) and the medieval bowed string instrument, the vielle (Giles Lewin). This disc is a wonderful testament to these two rich explorations of contrasting medieval music, but more importantly to the deep musical partnership between two exceptional singers, one now sadly lost to us.
American pianist, Sarah Cahill, has released the first volume of a three volume series, ‘The Future is Female’, aiming to celebrate women composers right from the 17th century through to the present day. In the first volume, loosely themed ‘In Nature’, the ten composers hail from across the globe, and there are a number of premiere recordings here. The works are presented chronologically, so we begin with a graceful and expressive Keyboard Sonata from Anna Bon (1739/40-after 1767). Born in Venice, she composed for Princess Wilhelmine of Prussia in Bayreuth, then later sang in Haydn’s ensemble at the court of Esterházy. Sadly, but not untypically, all record of her disappears after her marriage to an Italian singer. Fanny Mendelssohn-Hensel’s (1805-1847) story is not dissimilar – despite being a child prodigy alongside her brother Felix, their father discouraged any ambition for Fanny as a composer, and once married, although she continued to compose in private, it was only after her death that her work began to be published. Here, Cahill plays two of her Vier Lieder, the rippling and poignantly expressive No. 1, with its turbulent, swirling left hand, and the gently throbbing No. 3, Cahill delivering the yearning melody with great lyricism here. Space won’t allow for discussion of all the pieces here, so I must focus on highlights, such as the turbulent waves around a constant chugging rhythm in Venezuelan composer Teresa Carreño’s (1853-1917) ‘Un rêve en mer’, or the brightly evocative bird song over dark chords in Fannie Dillon’s (1881-1947) ‘Birds at Dawn’. Agi Jambor’s (1909-1997) Piano Sonata: 'To the Victims of Auschwitz’ is unsurprisingly dark, with hammering repeated low octaves and nagging repetition, urgent driving rhythms, and then ghostly pianissimo tinkles at the top of the keyboard and a final deathly quiet chord to finish. Deirdre Gribbin (b.1967) explores the dark side of her adopted home of London in Unseen, with insistent, shaking urgency and dark, fearful undertones, before a moment of almost motionless calm. This is an impressive collection, with Cahill effortlessly traversing a phenomenal range of styles, even contributing her voice reciting a poem by Ruth Crawford Seeger in Eve Beglarian’s (b.1958)Fireside. Her exemplary performances here also serve to celebrate the variety of music composed by women over centuries excluded from the classical ‘canon’, and the next volume is eagerly awaited.
I very much enjoyed the first volume of violinist Kinga Ujszászi and harpsichordist Tom Foster’s exploration of the riches of an amazing archive from the late 17th and early 18th centuries, the ‘Cabinet of Wonders’, and now they’re back with another volume of delights. The archive has miraculously survived all that time in Dresden, and is known as ‘Schrank II’ after the cabinet in which it was stored. This volume presents us with music by Martino Bitti (1655/56-1743), Henricus Albicastro (c.1660-1730), Carlo Fiorelli (c.1673-unknown), and two works of uncertain origin, but possibly attributable to Girolamo Laurenti (1678-1751) and Antonio Montanari (1676-1737). I have to confess only the last of these names was at all familiar to me, but there is some delightful and inventive music on offer here. Bitti’s ‘Dresden’ Sonatas (of which three are performed here) have delicate grace and lively, bouncy faster movements. There are harmonically relatively conventional, but Bitti explores the higher register of the violin to great effect in the second Allegro of the Sonata No. 4. There are some slightly more interesting harmonic shifts in No. 1’s middle movement, which dances along nicely, and there is great rapid interplay between violin and harpsichord, a 10th apart, in the opening movement. No.5’s final Gigue is lively, with the harpsichord trilling like a strumming guitar. Albicastro’s offering has a mournfully lyrical opening, as well as rapid figuration and imitation between the instruments in the middle movement. The Laurenti is perhaps the most overtly virtuosic for the violin, but it is the Montanari that stands out for me, with its sliding chromatic lines, frequent tempo changes, and delicate joint figurations from the two instruments. Ujszászi’s virtuosity is without doubt, but she is also alive to the more lyrical and expressive moments, and brings a graceful lightness to even the more conventional passages. There is clear unanimity between Ujszászi and Foster throughout, whether when imitating one another, or when in rapid runs together as in the Bitti. Given there are around 1750 works in ‘Schrank II’, I think we can confidently expect more volumes from these two talented players.
The Brighton Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Joanna MacGregor present Silent Classics, with Neil Brand (pianist, film historian & composer), with live music performed to the Buster Keaton classic One Week, and Oliver Twist, starring Jackie Coogan & Lon Chaney (2.45pm, Sunday 6 March, Brighton Dome). They return later in the month for Elgar, Mozart and Brahms' Piano Concerto No. 1, with Joanna MacGregor now on the piano, and Sian Edwards conducting (2.45, Sunday 27 March, Brighton Dome).
Worthing Symphony Orchestra perform Mainly Mozart, including the Concerto for flute and harp (with soloists Monica McCarron & Elizabeth Green), the Piano Concerto No. 6 with Jeneba Kanneh-Mason (piano) and Elgar & Haydn also on the programme (2.45pm, Sunday 13 March, Assembly Hall, Worthing).
Brighton Early Music Festival celebrates Early Music Day with a concert of Renaissance Music on a Grand Scale, including Brumel’s ‘Earthquake’ Mass, and music by Robert Carver, performed by the BREMF Consort of Voices and members of the English Cornett & Sackbut Ensemble, conducted by Deborah Roberts (7.30pm, Sunday 20 March, St Martin’s Church, Brighton).
(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared atScene, March 2022)
Early
music ensemble Collegium Musicum 90,
directed from the violin by Simon Standage present ‘Maestro Corelli’s
Violins’, with music by three violinist-composers who worked with
Corelli. So no music by Corelli here in
fact, but instead some fabulously vibrant and energetic music from these
lesser-known composers following in his footsteps. Regular readers might recognise Antonio Montanari (1676-1737) from a
recording I reviewed of his Concertos performed by Johannes Pramsohler and the
Ensemble Diderot (more from them next month). The two recordings share two of
the Op. 1 Concertos – Nos. 6 and
7, and Collegium Musicum 90 also perform No. 2.
It’s great to hear this wonderful music on disc again so soon, and to
have the chance to hear two slightly different takes on some of Montanari’s
music. Standage’s approach is a little
more full-blooded, emphasising the energy of these works, perhaps in keeping
with the rest of his disc’s programme, whereas Pramsohler brings out more of
the subtlety in the solo writing – but both relish the mystery in the striking slow
movement of No. 6. Sadly, little else of
Montanari’s music has survived, but it’s great to have two such excellent
exponents championing what we do have.
Standage’s disc opens with a fabulously energetic and lively Concerto (Op. 7 No. 11) by Giuseppe Valentini (1681-1753). Its six movements include a stately Largo, a
driven Allegro with typical Corelli-esque rapid violin figuration, and a lively
jig to finish. Standage drives this with
great spirit and fun, although the central Grave sections feel a tad
aggressive. The two Concertos by Giovanni Mossi
(c.1680-1742), from his Op. 4 set of 12, are real gems, full of inventive
use of interplay between the solo instruments – no fewer than four violins and
a cello in No. 12, with four further violins and no viola in the accompanying
‘ripieno’, creating an unusual and complex texture. Here, the bright sound and infectious energy
from the Collegium players is a delight.
Overall, this is a joyous disc, giving great insight into music beyond
Corelli from 18th century Rome.
Highly recommended.
Another
period instrument ensemble, the Australian Brandenburg Orchestra, has ventured into later territory for their CD, ‘The Romantics’.For these live recordings they are joined as
Guest Director by violinist Shunske Sato,
who is also the soloist in Niccolò
Paganini’s (1782-1840) Violin Concerto No. 4 which ends the disc.But they open with a warm and energetic
performance of Edvard Grieg’s
(1843-1907) Holberg Suite – subtitled a ‘Suite in the Olden Style’.It is suite of dance movements, in the
Baroque style, yet Grieg’s Romantic sensibility shines through in the rich
writing for strings – Grieg said it the string orchestra for this should
ideally be sixty players.As is often
the way when period instrument groups move into later repertoire, they bring a
welcome incision and attention to detail. Sato also introduces more Romantic stylistic
approaches into the mix, such as extensive portamento (slides), particularly in
the Air, where it is a little overdone.However, it is full of life, as is the String Symphony No. 3 by Felix
Mendelssohn (1809-1847) that follows.Remarkably, Mendelssohn wrote twelve string symphonies between the age
of 12 and 14.Produced when he was
having composition lessons from Carl Friedrich Zelter, they nevertheless only
precede works of genius such as the String Octet by a couple of years, so
Mendelssohn clearly learned fast and honed his skills of melodic invention,
harmony and counterpoint in these delightful pieces.A bit like the Grieg, these look backwards to
Baroque style, sounding quite Handelian.And again, a performance from a period instrument outfit brings out
these roots in the music, and the ABO play with great precision and poise.The finale of their concert is the Paganini
Concerto, with the ABO Artistic Director, Paul Dyer now conducting.Paganini
composed six Concertos, which he performed himself, and the scores were not
published until after his death.They
are of course showpieces for his phenomenal technique, and the orchestra is
there pretty much as backing accompaniment.Sato is highly impressive here, and seems to breeze through the
technical demands that Paganini throws at him, particularly in the crazy Rondo
galante that finishes proceedings.The
melodramatic funereal slow movement is wonderfully over the top, and Sato milks
the sobbing solo part for all it’s worth.This is all about the soloist, and Sato certainly does not disappoint. A fun conclusion to a highly entertaining
programme.
Jean-Efflam Bavouzet is on his sixth volume
of Piano Sonatas by Franz Joseph Haydn (1731-1809) – given
that he wrote roughly 60, there’s still some way to go! Here we have another
five, none of which are particularly well known or regularly performed. Yet as ever, Bavouzet brings his dedication
and insight, making this another enjoyable collection. Numbering of Haydn’s sonatas is problematic,
with two numbering systems and uncertainty about the provenance of a few – I’ll
stick with the more recent Landon system.
Bavouzet begins with No. 11, with its bright, crisp opening movement,
and touching slow movement. He combines
energy and clarity in the former with delicacy and a beautifully singing tone
in the latter. This sets the pattern for
the whole disc, with that combination of crisp clarity and sensitivity shining
through. No. 43 that follows has the
same brightness and energy, but with greater virtuosity, which Bavouzet makes
sound effortless, particularly the hand-crossing show of the final Presto. As with other volumes in the series, Bavouzet
exploits ornamentation and decoration in the repeats with exquisite taste,
managing to add interest without it ever feeling intrusive. Nos. 34, 35 and 36 make up the rest of this
volume – although again, the numbering is deceptive here, as the chronological order
is far from clear. There is even some
uncertainty that No. 35 is actually by Haydn, although the argument in his favour
is strong. Regardless of such doubts, it
is a joyful and playful sonata, and Bavouzet exploits the humour here to great
effect. No. 34 has a beautiful central
slow movement, followed by a clever Minuet with variations, and No. 36 that
finishes the disc has a poised Adagio, ending with a lively
Presto. Bavouzet is a delight throughout,
and despite being one volume in an extended project, he raises this way above a
catalogue exercise.
Johannes Pramsohler and the Ensemble Diderot are back with a beautifully packaged disc of concertos by Antonio Maria Montanari (1676-1737). Not heard of him? Neither had I – perhaps because not much of his music has survived, and little was published in his lifetime. Yet as a successor in Rome to Corelli, he was a significant violinist composer, also giving lessons to Pisendel, the Dresden composer, who’s works Pramsohler has also been bringing to new audiences of late. In fact, some of the concertos only exist in copies Pisendel had following his visit to Rome. This disc brings us six of Montanari’s Violin Concertos, only one of which has ever been recorded previously. The concertos are written in seven parts, for two solo violins and a solo cello, two further violin parts, a viola part and basso continuo. However, Montanari makes flexible use of these parts, not always simply contrasting the solo ‘concertino’ and the full ‘ripieno’ grouping, as in the classic concerto grosso, but sometimes mixing and matching and doubling parts. The Ensemble Diderot also varies the basso continuo combining harpsichord (Philippe Grisvard) with violone (Youen Cadiou), theorbo or guitar (Jadran Duncumb). Pramsohler takes the lead solo violin part and directs proceedings. Concerto No. 6 has a wonderfully mysterious slow central movement, followed by a halting yet jauntily leisurely Allegro, the longest movement of any of the concerti. Concerto No. 5 opens with a bristling Allegro, with wonderful tit-for-tat solo violin and cello exchanges. Concerto No. 7 has solo violin parts that sing, and the interchange between the two instruments is contrasted expertly with the full ensemble, and Concerto No. 8 has real fire in the virtuosic solo parts in its fast movements. These concerti are real gems, and the performances here bristle with energy and spirit. The balance achieved between the solo and fuller passages is spot on – this is so clearly a small ensemble of dedicated musicians who are able to communicate their obvious enthusiasm for this wonderful music. Another hit from Pramsohler and friends.
Alexander
Zemlinsky (1871-1942) was a Viennese
composer, who, like his friend and one-time pupil, Arnold Schoenberg, emigrated
to the US in later life. However, unlike
Schoenberg, he was largely neglected in the US, and his music has never taken a
foothold in the repertoire. Supported by
Brahms, he developed an individual voice perhaps more influenced by Wagner and
Mahler – he never went down the atonal route that Schoenberg followed.
Zemlinsky fell in love with Alma Schindler, who initially reciprocated his
feelings, but dumped him for Mahler. In the intense and somewhat incestuous environment
of turn of the century Vienna, Schoenberg married Zemlinsky’s sister, Mathilde,
who then had an affair with the artist Richard Gerstl. She returned to
Schoenberg, and Gerstl subsequently committed suicide. The affair had a deep
impact on Schoenberg and Zemlinsky’s friendship, with Schoenberg also
contemplating suicide. So to the music – the Brodsky Quartet have recorded his four numbered String Quartets, as well as a premiere
recording of an early String Quartet in
E minor, which failed to pass muster with the all-powerful
Tonkünstlerverein in Vienna, and was thus abandoned by the composer. Whilst he
clearly hadn’t mastered writing for the string quartet here, and the influences
of Brahms and also Dvorak are most evident, this is nevertheless a work that
didn’t deserve such out and out rejection. The String Quartet No. 1 is in a happy A major, and is perhaps the
least troubled of the four mature works. The slow movement begins in a rather
stately fashion, but relaxes into a more lyrical mood, and the finale is
uncomplicatedly positive. The String
Quartet No. 2 is a long, single movement work, and the Brodsky Quartet take
some of the tempi quite slow here, the whole quartet coming in at over 43
minutes. In contrast to the first quartet, this is a turbulent, almost
tormented piece – hardly surprising given that it expressed the traumatic
personal period of his life described above. There are lots of symbols here the
‘cross’ of the F sharp minor key signature, associated with pain, grief and
guilt, and coded references to himself, Mathilde and Schoenberg. It is a
complex piece, with real virtuosic writing, and the Brodskys maintain the
intensity and coherence despite not rushing things. The tormented yet Romantic language is
somewhat reminiscent of Schoenberg’s Verklärte Nacht – String Quartet No. 3 moves into harsher, more neo-classical
territory, and is perhaps initially the least accessible. Yet it rewards
patient listening, and it actually contains surprisingly melodic writing, particularly
for viola and cello, within its modernist construction. He opens String Quartet No. 4 with a Präludium
that contains motifs from the second and third quartets, and another reference
to Mathilde, creating a sense of mournful nostalgia perhaps. Zemlinsky combines
the urgency and passion of the second quartet’s late Romanticism with the
brittle virtuosity of the third quartet, and this is surely a masterpiece of
string quartet writing. The Brodskys seem to shift across the varied styles of
all of these quartets with ease, and make one wonder why these quartets are so
seldom performed. A great collection,
well worth exploration.
