Showing posts with label Saint-Saëns. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Saint-Saëns. Show all posts

Monday, 24 February 2025

Overtures & Dances - Impressive variety and virtuosity from the Mēla Guitar Quartet

The Mēla Guitar Quartet formed in 2015, graduates of the Guildhall School of Music & the Royal Academy of Music, and have established a reputation for interesting programming, combining clever arrangements (often their own) of works for other instruments, as well as commissioning new works. Following a change of line-up in 2023 (now comprising Matthew Robinson, George Tarlton, Michael Butten & Zahrah Hutton), they have now recorded a joyful album, entitled Overtures & Dances, including ingenious arrangements (by Tarlton) of two staples of the orchestral overture repertoire, Glinka’s Ruslan and Lyudmila (which opens the disc) and Humperdinck’s Overture to Hänsel und Gretel. The Glinka sets off at a wild pace, with no concessions made when it comes to the racing string scales, the guitars adopting a kind of mind-boggling hocketing technique, alternating semi-quavers between instruments, which quite frankly, sounds even more demanding! As well as all of the rapid virtuosity, they bring 
out the lyrical melodies, make use of harmonics for lighter textures, as well as drumming effects, and build to an impressive climax of orchestral dimensions. The Humperdinck opens with a more gentle, fairytale atmosphere, but once again, it is those impressive running scales that build up the drama. The guitars bring a music-box feel to the sound world, adding to the sense of fairytale, and the more rustic dance in the latter sections provides spirited dynamic to the more peaceful, delicate conclusion.

Tarlton also arranged the Deux Arabesques for piano by Debussy that appear here. The first gives the cascades of the piano a harp-like flow, and they achieve effective dynamic contrasts here too, as well as an impressive lyrical line. A slight change to the melodic line towards the end of the central section aside, this is otherwise a very effective arrangement, and the use of harmonics in the final cascade is a nice touch. The second Arabesque is playful and dances along, achieving a smoothness that is actually hard to achieve on the piano. The pace is steady and rhythmic, and once again, harmonics provide percussive contrast. Staying with French repertoire, Saint-Saëns’ Bacchanale from Samson et Delilah is up next, in an arrangement by former member of the quartet, Daniel Bovey. Following a dramatic opening, the dance gets going, with similar energy to the Glinka. The eastern-infused melodic line is effective in octaves, and there is drumming along the way to add to the drama. The mood is then calmed for Ravel’s Ma mère l’Oye (Mother Goose), arranged by Robinson, opening with Sleeping Beauty’s sparse Pavane. Petit Poucet ('Tom Thumb') follows, with relentless repeating scales and a wandering intensity. In Laideronnette, the strumming guitars are harp-like, with also more than a hint of the gamelan. Les entretiens de la Belle et de la Bête ('The Conversations of Beauty and the Beast' features a glorious glissando across all four instruments, and a de-tuned low E string to replace the contrabassoon of the orchestral scoring. The suite ends with Le Jardin Feerique ('The Fairy Garden', with gentle poise and courtly strumming building to a joyous conclusion, once again conjuring up a band of harps. Moving away from the French repertoire, we then have the Polka italienne by Rachmaninov, with harmonics now giving us dulcimer vibes. Initially the dance has halting rhythms, but then it starts to run away with itself, building to virtuosic craziness, before dying away into a darkly lugubrious finish. In contrast, Holst’s A Fugal Overture has bluesy lines, with complex rhythms and textures and a driving pace, before the mechanical, angular fugue takes hold. The third of Elgar’s 3 Characteristic Pieces, Contrasts: The Gavotte - AD 1700 & 1900 receives an arrangement by Hutton here, the delicate, courtly dance gradually transformed into something more playful and complex, with effective use of harmonics to thin the texture.

The disc ends with a highlight for me, former member Daniel Bovey’s arrangement of Joe Hisaishi’s (b.1950) My Neighbour Totoro Suite. The music is from a Japanese animated film from 1988, about two sisters who move to an old house in the countryside and meet the forest spirit, Totoro. The music is great fun, with an opening playful romp, and tapping rhythms. There’s a joyful, magical feel here, as well as moments of wistful atmosphere, building with a kind of ragtime, jazz energy, providing a great conclusion to this highly enjoyable collection. For a whole album of just four guitars playing, there is great variety of mood and texture here, as well as highly virtuosic display in those fast overtures. 


Various. 2025. Overtures & Dances. Mēla Guitar Quartet. Compact Disc and Download. trptk TTK 0145.

Friday, 22 November 2024

Adventurous, virtuosic and highly expressive celebration of 15 years of the Canellakis-Brown Duo

Cellist Nicholas Canellakis and pianist-composer Michael Stephen Brown, met in their early twenties some fifteen years ago and have been performing as the Canellakis-Brown Duo ever since, as well as maintaining their separate solo careers. They clearly have a close friendship which has also stimulated compositions and arrangements  from both, a number of which receive première recordings here. 
 
First, let’s get the album title, ‘(b)romance’ out of the way. Now celebrating male friendship is no bad thing, but the term ‘bromance’ is unfortunately problematic for me. The implication is always that such a friendship between two presumably straight men needs a label, however tongue in cheek, lest we ‘misunderstand’. And just in case we are in any doubt, it is confirmed that Canellakis has a girlfriend, whilst Brown’s website informs us that he has two Steinways with female names (really?). Now there’s clearly a play on the term here, with reference to the numerous Romances for cello and piano amongst the eclectic and expressive repertoire, and their friendship and professional partnership of 15 years is worthy of celebration. But still…
 
Anyway, closeness of communication and warmth of connection are immediately evident in the Saint-Saëns Romance opener, with Canellakis in particular producing a glorious cantabile sound. Brown is equally expressive in the Romantic piano solo of the Romanze from Clara Schumann’s Piano Concerto, with Canellakis joining for the expressive, luxurious duet that emerges. Fauré’s Romance has a wonderful flow in the meandering, expressive cello melody, with Brown providing the necessary sense of motion from the piano. The rich, lower register opening from Canellakis is particularly striking here too. This is followed by Romance à GF, composed by Canellakis himself. He doesn’t clarify whether GF is his girlfriend, or the former composer’s initials, but regardless, it is an evocative piece, with the cello on long sustained piano notes of a rising scale emerging from the quiet mysterious piano opening. Once the melody gets going there is definitely a nod to Fauré here. Brown picks up the pace and intensity to support Canellakis’ outbursts, before it all dies away, leaving Canellakis at the heights of the fingerboard. Brown’s compositional offerings here include 35 Chords for Nick (a 35th birthday present). The score (reproduced in the notes) indicates that the tempo, character and dynamics of the chords is up to the performer, and should be different every time – whilst setting down a recording obviously limits us to one version. But Canellakis’ mixture of spread chords, multiple stoppings, pizzicato and harmonics is engaging, and he again puts that richness of tone to great effect. There is also a Prelude and Dance from Brown, originally written as a solo cello piece for Canellakis, but with Brown adding the piano part later. The Prelude is an expressive, questioning conversation, in which the cello part’s repeated notes in particular get more insistent. The Dance that follows is wild and relentless, with most of the drive coming from the cello, with the piano adding complexity to the rhythms, before they swirl towards its frenzied conclusion.
 
The longest piece here is Sibelius’ dark Malinconia, and at just over 11 minutes in a programme of largely miniatures, it feels epic in proportions. Full of anguish, written in response to the death of the composer’s infant daughter, from the dark mysterious cello opening rising in anguish to the piano cascades, and then the folk-like cello lament over the piano’s rhythmic pulse, this certainly packs an emotional punch. As the intensity rises, Brown’s crashing piano is matched by Canellakis’ heart-wrenching full sound, followed by a quietly raging conclusion, making for a highly moving performance of this astonishing piece. Ginastera’s Pampeana No. 2follows this with the bell-like piano and extended dramatic cello flourish leading into a swirling dance and long passages of extreme expressive outbursts, then just when you think it’s almost over, there is a wild dance to finish, with both Canellakis & Brown showing their virtuosic prowess. 
 
Elsewhere, Canellakis makes the melody of Rachmaninov’s Lied sing alongside the relatively simple piano accompaniment, whilst Copland’s Poème, a contrastingly reflective piece, is given a peaceful, almost sensual reading. Debussy’s song Beau soir, here transcribed by Canellakis, is limpid and warm, with a beautifully controlled high ending from Canellakis. And Lukas Foss’ (1922-2009) Capriccio is full of American folksy melodies, galloping pace and train-like rhythmic energy, once again allowing both players to demonstrate their virtuosity. 
 
They end the disc playfully, first with 3 Preludes by Gershwin, arranged by Canellakis. The first is great fun, and the third is a joyful romp, whilst the central prelude is sultry, with a bluesy (if a little ‘clean’ here) second half. But they finish with a wild, virtuosic and crazy dance, Don Ellis’ (1934-1978) Bulgarian Bulge, originally for big band, in another Canellakis arrangement. Its 33/16 metre is fiendishly infectious, and Canellakis and Brown swirl and spin with sparkling energy to bring their programme to a glorious close. All in all, a great programme, performed with style, virtuosic command and expression – just a shame about that title!



 
 

Thursday, 23 August 2018

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 19thcentury. 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.


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.


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