CD Reviews - September 2021

Norwegian lutenist Jadran Duncumb is on his third recording for Audax, this time performing works for the lute by J S Bach (1685-1750). There is debate about the original instrument Bach intended the works for, with question marks about a kind of gut-strung harpsichord called the Lautenwerk. Nevertheless, despite the lute not being Bach’s instrument, he did specify lute for some works, and arranged his own works (such as a Cello Suite and a movement from a Violin Sonata) for the instrument. In all there are six works in Bach’s output, and Duncumb has recorded four here. First, a word about the recorded sound. The lute is naturally a quiet instrument, and it can struggle to make itself heard outside a generous acoustic. Recordings also try to avoid the extraneous sounds of fret contact and string plucking. Duncumb has consciously gone against this, opting for a full, close recording which allows for the instrument’s true character to come to the fore, grit and all. That’s not to say there isn’t delicacy and lightness in his playing here, but he also produces a broader range of dynamics and a richer, fruitier sound than often heard on the instrument. The Suite in G minor opens the disc, this being Bach’s arrangement of his Cello Suite No. 5. It opens with a stately Prelude, followed by a gracious Allemande, and a gently swinging Courante. The Sarabande has a kind of sparse drama, and the second of the two Gavottes is beautifully fluid here in the running lines. The final Gigue is highly virtuosic, with its snappy rhythm and circling lines, taking the instrument to the extremes of register, and Duncumb makes his instrument sparkle with energy here. The brief Prelude in C minor will be familiar to pianists, as it was later written down in keyboard notation, and adopted as a keyboard work in the 19^th century. Its perpetual motion of arpeggios is actually ideally suited to the lute, and Duncumb expertly brings out the underlying harmonically shifting line from within the constant movement. The Fugue in G minor, another arrangement by Bach, this time from the Violin Sonata No. 1, is taken at a pace here by Duncumb, with impressive clarity in the fugal lines, ringing bass notes and an impressive flourish at its climax. The remainder of the disc is given over to the Partita in C minor (one of the works that may or may not have been composed for the mysterious Lautenwerk). Its opening Fantasia, with its falling bass line and swirling melodic line above is immediately captivating in Duncumb’s hands here. The Fuga to follow has incredibly clear voice leading in the flowing lines, and he maintains momentum despite its monumental proportions with a constant sense of direction and dynamic ebb and flow. In contrast, the Sarabande opens with a quiet air of mystery, yet Duncumb allows the emerging line to sing, with a beautifully silky chromatic scale near to the end. After a gently dancing Giga with effortless ornaments, he launches straight into the Double with smoothly running motion, a ringing tone throughout, creating a peel of bells in the cascades of falling lines, and building to a full-bodied conclusion. These are highly impressive performances, amply demonstrating that the lute is definitely not a shy wallflower in the right hands.

Bach, J. S. 2021. J. S. Bach Works for lute. Jadran Duncumb. Compact Disc. Audax Records. ADX 13728.

In February, Brighton Early Music Festival presented an online concert by Oliver Webber, violinist and director of the Monteverdi String Band, with organist and harpsichordist, Steven Devine. Con Arte e Maestria – ‘with art and mastery’ – refers to the practice of virtuoso violin ornamentation from the dawn of the Italian Baroque, and Webber and Devine have now released a CD of the same name. There is a lot of technical detail behind the complexities of ornamentation practice, and Webber’s CD notes are highly instructive, but for our purposes here, Webber demonstrates the ways in which virtuoso violinists of the late sixteenth century took existing pieces of music – madrigals, songs, etc – and ornamented them in striking and virtuosic ways, adding florid runs, repeated notes, trills and more to take an often simple melody to new heights. Different violinists had their own systems and styles – Girolamo dalla Casa (d.1601) used systematic divisions of the beat into rapid runs, whereas Riccardi Rognoni (c.1550-c.1620) favoured upward leaps followed by a downward scale, for example. Webber showcases five main approaches of different composers here, and then he takes their techniques and practices to create his own ornamentations of works such as Palestrina’s (c.1525-1594) madrigal Deh hor foss’io col vago della luna, and Antonio Mortaro’s (fl.1587-1610) Canzona ‘La Malvezza’. There is tremendous urgency in the rapid ornamentation of the Palestrina, and in the Mortaro, the violin adds increasingly nervy interjections over the steady progress of the organ. There is incredible variety here, with a beautiful singing style from Webber over Devine’s softly sombre organ in Cipriano de Rore’s (c.1515-1565) Anchor che col partire (ornaments by Rognoni), and highwire violin snippets of ornamentation in de Rore’s Signor mio caro (ornaments by Webber here), this time with Devine on harpsichord. There are solo violin Ricercatas from Giovanni Bassano (c.1561-1617), and from Webber himself (after Bassano’s style), demonstrating his virtuosic and improvisatory command of the instrument to dazzling effect – the Ricercata on ‘Vestiva i colli’ by Aurelio Virgiliano (fl.c.1600) is particularly mesmerizing. Devine has his moments too, with a beautifully delicate and courtly Canzon francese prima from Ascanio Mayone (c.1565-1627) on harpsichord, a darker Toccata by Michelangelo Rossi (c.1601-1656), and a dramatic fanfare-like organ Intonazione by Andrea Gabrieli (c.1532-1585). This is a stunning, well-constructed programme that will reward repeated listening, whether you want to get to the bottom of the technicalities of Italian Baroque ornamentation, or whether you want to simply relish the virtuosity of these performers in this glorious repertoire. 

Various. 2021. Con arte e maestria - Virtuoso violin ornamentation from the dawn of the Italian Baroque. Monteverdi String Band In Focus - Oliver Webber, Steven Devine. Compact Disc. Resonus Classics. RES10282.

Pianist Roman Rabinovich is on his second volume of Haydn Piano Sonatas. I missed the first, but on the basis of this two CD volume, I’ll definitely be seeking it out. The nine Sonatas on offer in this volume range across most of the fifty year spread of his 62 sonatas – depending on numbering, and allowing for a few of dubious origin. Rabinovich’s approach is full-bodied, and he is not averse to using pedalling to good effect, such as in the expressive Adagio of No. 13, its beautiful melody played out over softly pedaled repeated chords. Yet he also alert to the bright playfulness so typical of Haydn, such as in the outer movements of No. 50, and the jolly opening Allegro and the brilliantly virtuosic finale of No. 13. Meanwhile, the Bachian winding lines and steady bass line of No. 46’s Allegretto trot along amiably, and Rabinovich is particularly expressive and lyrical in No. 33’s slow movement. The Rondo of No. 35 is full of fun, with a spring in its step, with occasional slight lifts adding to the playfulness. No. 58, the latest Sonata here, from 1789, has an improvisatory quality in its opening movement, with Rabinovich taking the opportunity to show us some virtuosic flourishes, before the second movement’s rattling dash of a Rondo. Very enjoyable yet intelligent performances here, well worth exploration.

Haydn, F. J. 2021. Haydn Piano Sonatas, Vol. 2. Roman Rabinovich. Compact Disc. First Hand Records. FHR72.

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

CD Reviews - June 2021

The Doric String Quartet are on their fourth volume of the String Quartets of Joseph Haydn (1732-1809), a cycle they began way back in 2014. Here, they play the six Op. 33 Quartets, nicknamed the ‘Russian quartets’, after their dedication to the Grand Duke Paul of Russia. As ever, the Doric’s performances are impeccable, and they are alive to the energy and fun in Haydn’s writing throughout. The Scherzo of No. 1 has real bite, accentuating the contrast with the seemingly light and delicate Andante that follows, and the finale is taken at a breathtaking lick without any loss of accuracy or detail. No. 2’s Scherzo has a real bounce, the first violinist Alex Redington enjoys the somewhat vulgar slides in the rustic Trio, and the Finale’s ‘joke’ (giving this quartet its nickname) ending is delightfully judged. They give No. 3’s strange Scherzo a dark, veiled tone which works incredibly well, and its Adagio is especially sweet by contrast, all swept away by the rustic dancing Rondo. They exploit the lyrical in No. 4’s Largo, and there’s another blisteringly quick Finale here. Redington makes No. 5’s aria-like Largo sing, and they all make great play of Haydn’s two/three confusions in the Scherzo, before the lightly dancing Allegretto finale, topped off with its crazily fast Presto coda. No. 6’s Andante gets a particularly tender reading here, and its finale is gently understated. The Dorics are clearly alive to the variety here, and not afraid to push tempi in the interest of keeping proceedings alive and vibrant, and they add another strong volume here to their survey.

Haydn, F. J. 2020. Haydn String Quartets, Op. 33 (Volume 4). Doric String Quartet. Compact Discs (2). Chandos CHAN 20129.

The Paris based label Audax Records, established by violinist and director Johannes Pramsohler, continues to go from strength to strength, with 25 releases, many award-winning under their belt in just eight years. The latest release moves forward a little from the label’s general focus on the Baroque, with the Mariani Klavierquartett beginning a cycle pairing the Piano Quartets of Brahms (1833-1897) with those of a lesser-known composer, Friedrich Gernsheim (1839-1916). The two composers were friends, and Gernsheim was a particular champion of Brahms’ German Requiem, conducting the work on a number of occasions. Even though Gernshiem’s composing career began before Brahms’, he is often dismissed as being heavily influenced by his friend, and his work and reputation suffered from a subsequent ban in Nazi Germany owing to his Jewish heritage. The Mariani quartet’s recording project began in January 2020, but was of course immediately curtailed by the pandemic, so it is great that they have been able to return and complete this first volume, with a spirited and lively performance of Brahms’ Piano Quartet No. 1, Op, 25. Their opening movement draws the listener in immediately from the piano’s opening melody onwards. In the second movement, the cello propels things with constant quavers, whilst the violin and viola converse with the piano. The Mariani cellist, Peter-Philipp Staemmler keeps things moving without allowing his perpetual motion to get in the way of the other players’ conversations. The third movement is a masterpiece of Brahms’ lyricism and harmonic invention, and it is in secure hands here in this warmly sensitive performance, with some particularly warmly rippling playing from pianist Gerhard Vielhaber, and a vibrantly contrasting central section played with great spirit by all. The finale, ‘Rondo alla Zingarese’, with its typical Brahmsian take on Hungarian rhythms and melodies is taken at a great pace, with incredibly impressive virtuosity on display from all here, but once again, pianist Vielhaber deserves particular mention for his effortless dexterity throughout. Gernsheim’s Piano Quartet in C minor, Op. 20 opens with a gloriously rich and flowing movement, and the Mariani players produce appropriately warm tones throughout. Gernsheim’s melodies flow effortlessly, and the full-on dramatic climaxes are powerfully delivered here, yet the Marianis also bring out the moments of delicate detail too. The second slow movement is a beautiful example of Gernsheim’s heartfelt lyricism, and like the slow movement of the Brahms, the Marianis play with deep assurance and sensitivity. The closing Rondo is lively and again packed with melodic ideas, as well as a dancing rhythmic pace. Here it has playful delicacy and energy, allowing for the contrast between the lighter, smaller scale moments and the high-spirited peaks to shine, building to a glorious finish. This is a highly impressive first volume, with assured Brahms coupled with illuminating Gernsheim, and I look forward to hearing more.

Various. 2021. Brahms & Gernsheim Piano Quartets. Mariani Klavierquartett. Compact Disc. Audax Records ADX 13780.

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

CD Review - May 2021

John Mayer (1929-2004) was born in Kolkata (formerly Calcutta) to an Anglo-Indian father and Tamil mother. He moved to London in 1952 with a scholarship to the Royal Academy of Music, and worked as a violinist and composer, then co-founded the Indo-Jazz Fusions quintet in the sixties, before teaching at Birmingham Conservatoire, where he established the BMus in Indian Music. His son, Jonathan Mayer (b.1975) started on the violin, but then from the age of 16 he trained as a sitar player, and he now composes and performs. On this disc, there are works composed by father and son, two each, and Jonathan performs sitar on his own compositions, as well as playing tanpura (like a fretless sitar, providing a harmonic drone) on his father’s Violin Concerto No. 2, from 1978. The violinist here is Sasha Rozhdestvensky, and he shows phenomenal technical dexterity, particularly in the perpetual motion and breathless energy of the concerto’s second movement. The opening movement, Alap, has a pulsing orchestral background, out of which the violin emerges in winding chromatic lines, up and down. The tanpura shimmers in the background of the third movement Raga, and its improvisatory cadenza for the violin is full of birdlike fluttering. The fourth movement has dark brass and sparse woodwind chords, with lyrical moments in the violin’s response, before the final movement Gat drives with jagged rhythms to an insistent conclusion. John Mayer’s other composition here is the Concerto for the Instruments of an Orchestra, from 1975. Across its four movements, Mayer often pits orchestral sections – strings, woodwind, percussion against each other in conversation, occasionally bringing them together. The music is quite episodic, and occasionally lacks continuity, but there are imaginative effects, such as the lively coda of the first movement, and the racing strings Scherzo and spiky woodwind Trio of the third movement. The second movement is the strongest, with its drone background and the winding melody emerging from the strings, before the woodwind take over, and a solo cello and cor anglais conclude with a heartfelt lament. Jonathan Mayer’s Sitar Concerto No. 2 begins with an extended solo for the instrument, with initial unison string responses developing into a more rhythmic, almost jazzy section. The central cadenza is hypnotic, and is followed by a surging orchestral response. The second movement focuses on repeated patterns, initially a four-note figure on the sitar, with thrumming strings beneath, whereas the third movement has a driving 7 beat rhythm in a kind of offbeat march, with a whiff of Hans Zimmer’s film music. It is the most western harmonically, and the sitar gets livelier and more elaborate as the movement builds, although the ultimate conclusion is inconclusive. Jonathan Mayer’s other work here, the single movement Pranam, begins with the sitar alone, with the orchestra joining as the sitar settles into a melodic pattern. The tabla joins (here played by Shahbaz Hussain), and rhythmic interest in the orchestra grows. Mayer builds layers of texture in the orchestra, then after a hiatus, the sitar is left keening above dark, low strings, before the violins emerge with a winding upward line. Once again, the tabla helps drive the momentum, and faster rhythmic patterns crescendo, almost burying the sitar, the woodblock adding further driving repetition to an ending reminiscent of John Adams. Debashish Chaudhuri conducts the BBC National Orchestra of Wales in strong performances of these fascinating works.

Various. 2020. John Mayer/Jonathan Mayer - Concertos. Sasha Rozhdestvensky, Jonathan Mayer, Shahbaz Hussain, BBC National Orchestra of Wales, Debashish Chaudhuri. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR88.

(An edited version of this review first appeared in Scene, May 2021)

 

CD Reviews - February 2021

First up this month, a great new disc of works by Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992). Piazzolla brought the music of the ‘Nuevo tango’ to concert platforms, and is responsible for its wider exposure outside Argentina. HIs music has been performed in many guises, and here, Italian saxophonist Marco Albonetti plays a selection of his works along with the Orchestra Filarmonica Italiana. Most of the works here are arranged and orchestrated by Albonetti, and his sensitive interpretations demonstrate how well the saxophone (mostly the soprano instrument) is suited to taking the role of the bandonéon (a kind of concertina, and Piazzolla’s own instrument). Piazzolla used a musical motif for ‘Diablo’ (as well as one for ‘Angel’) in numerous pieces, and the title track, Romance del Diablo is sensuous and intimate, with the devil definitely in seduction mode here. Albonetti plays with aching melancholy, and the orchestral playing is sumptuous throughout. Spread across the disc are Las Cuatro Estaciones Porteñas (The Four Seasons of Buenos Aires), in which several soloists from the orchestra get the chance to shine (Cesare Carretta (violin), Alessandra Gelfini (piano), and Virgilio Monti (double-bass)). There are some great percussive effects in Autumn, and dark, sensuous rumblings in Winter, along with virtuosic interludes from the piano and sax. There’s more virtuosity in Spring, as well as driving rhythms, and the duet between sax and double-bass gets wilder and wilder at the conclusion. Summer is lively, with pulsing pizzicato strings beneath the sax solo, before the sliding double-bass builds the tempo, to a final scream from the sax to finish. For Años de Soledad (Years of Solitude), Albonetti ups the melancholic ante by switching to the baritone sax, and the warm tones, contrasted with the jabbing orchestral tango rhythm, make this a highlight of the disc for me. Two of Piazzolla’s most well-known works are here too. Oblivion is preceded with a solo sax improvisation over a pulsing double-bass heartbeat, before the slow, melancholic milonga tune takes over, with evocative inflections in the melodic line from Albonetti. The disc ends with Libertango, and once this gets going, the sax repeats its hypnotic, twisting motif over the piano and bass stamping out the tango rhythm. I’ve heard interpretations with greater abandon here, but Albonetti and the players are certainly captivating to listen to. Reinterpretations of Piazzolla can sometimes be a little clinical in trying to replicate a particular sound and style – not so here, as Albonetti has clearly fully absorbed this music, making for a disc full of life and romance.

Piazzolla, A. 2021. Romance del Diablo - The Music of Piazzolla. Marco Albonetti, Orchestra Filarmonica Italiana. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 20220.

The American Lysander Piano Trio mark their tenth anniversary with a collection of premieres of works they have commissioned and collaborated on with living American composers. There are works here from six composers, and the opening work, Around the Cauldron by Gilad Cohen (b.1980) has seven short movements depicting scenes inspired by the three witches in Macbeth. Cohen particularly exploits the high registers of the three instruments for ‘witchy’ effect, and there’s lots of twisting and turning, with the violin and cello lines often colliding. Hand-stopped piano strings evoke an electric bass, and there’s lots of glassy string effects too. Reinaldo Moya’s (b.1984) Ghostwritten Variations take inspiration from fictional composers from four novels, including Mann’s Doctor Faustus, imagining what those composers might sound like. Moya makes great use of turbulent perpetual motion, as well as reverberation effects from repeated, pulsing chords. In the final variation, from Kim Stanley Robinson’s The Memory of Whiteness, the ghostly high piano ripples against glassy sustained string chords are particularly striking, as are the tolling, low piano ‘bells’ towards the end. For Jennifer Higdon’s (b.2013) Love Sweet, the trio are joined by soprano Sarah Shafer for a set of five songs following the trajectory of a relationship from birth to death. Shafer has a bright, incisive tone, and expresses the changing moods well here, from the sprightly opening ‘Apology’, through the ominous, even disturbing atmosphere of ‘Absence’ (with insistent knocking from stopped piano strings), the elegiac and intense ‘A Gift’ with its strange chromatic harmonies, to the painful end in ‘A Fixed Idea’, with more stopped piano strings, lurking low and torturing in their repetition. They return to Shakespeare for Sofia Belimova’s (b.2000) Titania and Her Suite, and in this delightful miniature, the piano ripples and the violin delicately tweets like a bird. A wild dance builds, with all three players bumping into each other rhythmically, and the result is a beautifully light and wispy confection. William David Cooper (b.1986) turns to Psalm 137 for An den Wassern zu Babel, with the cello introducing the falling, expressive lament. Cooper exploits the lyrical potential of the string instruments here, and as the music develops, there are some highly dramatic sweeps, with a sense of frenzy building through the fifth of the variations here, and the music then drives through the final variation to an almost violent conclusion. Jakub Ciupinski’s (b.1981) The Black Mirror concludes the disc, with some incredibly evocative and effective writing. He creates a ‘seagull’ effect with glissandi (slides) on harmonics, and there are hints of Pärt in the rising and falling lines beneath shifting harmonies. As the intensity builds, the ‘seagulls’ swoop around piano chords, then the strings wind around in repeating, minimalist patterns, leading to a dramatic final bell-like section. The Lysander Piano Trio demonstrate exceptional virtuosic and expressive talent across this diverse selection of styles, thus creating an excellent showcase for all six composers, and their 10^thanniversary – Happy Birthday!

Various. 2020. Mirrors - 21st Century American Piano Trios. Sara Shafer, Lysander Piano Trio. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR111.

 

And finally, off to Latvia, via Canada. Tālivaldis Ķeniņš (1919-2008) left Latvia following Soviet occupation after World War Two, emigrating to Canada in 1951. Prior to going to Canada, he lived and studied in Paris. He composed eight symphonies and twelve concertos, as well chamber, piano and choral works. Despite being one of Canada’s most performed composers, few works have been recorded. So the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Andris Poga, are rectifying that, with a disc of three works, his Violin Concerto, his Concerto for Five Percussionists and Orchestra, and the single movement orchestral piece, Beatae voces tenebrae. His music combines a certain romanticism with the neoclassicism of his French training, and it is a fascinating mix of lean, often angular counterpoint with lyrically striking melody. In the Violin Concerto, performed here impressively and with conviction by Latvian violinist Eva Bindere, the spiky, virtuosic lines, over often sparse and brittle orchestral accompaniment contrast with expressive falling and rising lines in the slow movement. Ķeniņš makes sparse use of woodwind, but there is a ghostly bassoon solo, and the brass and percussion are used to ominous effect in the Scherzo. An extended cadenza begins the finale, with an essentially lyrical if highly chromatic line ornamented with trills and leaps, and percussion and racing strings herald a race to the finish. The Concerto for Five Percussionists and Orchestra, performed here by members of Perpetuum Ritmico, is highly dramatic, as one would expect. A live performance would carry the added benefit of the visual, as a dazzling array of percussion instruments are made use of here (not all of which I could identify aurally). In the dramatic opening movement, there are crashes and knocks from cymbals, woodblock and gong, as well as queasy tuning slides on the timpani. In the first slow movement, tuned percussion is used to great atmospheric effect, with muted trumpets and another mournful bassoon solo. After a brief faster section, the train slows down into a second slow movement, with muted strings lamenting and constant knocking and rattling in the background. The final movement returns to high drama, with crashing drums, sliding drums and even a siren for a wild finish. To conclude the disc, Beatae voces tenebrae is a mixture of serene calm and anguish of grief – it was written after the sudden death of two close friends, but also possibly commemorated the 100^thbirthday of his mother, as well as ‘deported loved ones’, victims of the occupation. He draws extensively on the four-note B-A-C-H motif, as well as works by Bach, such as the downward movement in the Crucifixus of the B minor Mass. There are also references to Liszt and Beethoven, as well as the harp’s perpetual motion from In Paradisum from Fauré’s Requiem. From a low, rumbling opening and an initial slow rhythmic pace, Ķeniņš gradually builds tension, with moments of true anguish from the strings, and some strange effects from the horns. The Fauré effect at the end brings calm, although the percussion continues to knock away disconcertingly in the background, before the harp rises into nothingness at the end. A fascinating window into a new composer for me, and one I will definitely want to explore further.

Ķeniņš, T. 2020. Tālivaldis Ķeniņš - Violin Concerto, Concerto for 5 Percussionists and Orchestra, Beatae voce tenebrae,. Eva Bindere, Perpetuum Ritmico, Latvian National Symphony Orchestra, Andris Poga. Compact Disc. SKANi LMIC088.  

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

CD Reviews - January 2021

Barry Douglas’ survey of Schubert piano works began back in 2014. In the fifth volume, Douglas presents us with two Sonatas, both composed in the final five years of Schubert’s (1797-1828) short life. As with previous volumes in the series, the disc is filled up with two of Liszt’s transcriptions of Schubert songs, here Liebesbotschaft and Ständchen, both from the Schwanengesang cycle. The Sonata in D major, Op. 53 is emphatic and energetic from the very beginning, and Douglas plays the opening movement with a lively swagger. The slow movement brings a sense of calm, and here Douglas sensitively brings out the lyrical quality of the song-like theme. As the movement ranges through many obscure harmonies, Douglas maintains momentum and the forward trajectory, and the movement’s conclusion, when Schubert expertly combines his two themes has a wonderfully cathartic completeness as a result. The Scherzo is given a jaunty bounce, and its pulsing Trio section has real elegance despite its sometimes shocking harmonic shifts. Douglas then gives the unexpectedly light, Haydnesque Rondo finale a delicate light touch, contrasting beautifully with the two more dramatic episodes. The Sonata in A minor, Op. post. 143 opens sombrely, with a funereal theme, first stated quietly, then more angrily repeated, and a sense of drama continues in the frequent soft/loud contrasts. The second theme is gentler, more prayerful, but still with sudden loud interruptions. Douglas provides suitable weighty emphasis, whilst achieving the necessary contrast with some subtle delicacy in the quieter moments. At the time of composing this, Schubert was depressed, following the onset of syphilis, and brutal treatment for its symptoms. So unlike other Schubert works where a sense of serenity shines through despite everything, this movement never escapes from a weight of despair. The second movement is calmer, despite an odd twiddling interruption in the melody which is then drawn on throughout. The finale sweeps away any residual calm with immediately racing triplets that barely let up. Douglas whips up the pressure throughout, leading up to the thundering climax. The two Liszt transcriptions are delightful. In Liebesbotschaft moves the song melody around within the texture, contrasting with the rippling ‘murmuring brook’ accompaniment, and Douglas brings out the lyricism of the melody throughout. Liszt’s treatment of Ständchen is mostly faithful to Schubert’s song, with a few repositionings of the melody and decorative effects in the final ‘verse’. Douglas gives the melody a slightly halting rubato which gives it a very effective soloistic, singing quality. 

Schubert, F. 2020. Schubert. Works for Solo Piano. Volume 5. Barry Douglas. Compact Disc. Chandos. CHAN 20157.

London based harpsichordist Asako Ogawa has already a recording of Bach’s Goldberg Variations under her belt, and now she’s turned her attention to the Six Partitas BWV 825-830. These six suites are amongst the last of the keyboard suites he composed, and the most technically demanding. Yet despite being 40 at the time, they were the first of his compositions to be published. They stand as a showcase for technical brilliance, yet the variety and character in the different movements, as well as the overall style of each partita requires a great range of mood and touch. Some of you may have heard András Schiff performing the Partitas on piano at Glyndebourne in the 2019 Brighton Festival in an intensely captivating performance. On harpsichord however, they are so much lighter, and the dance forms shine through more. Ogawa is incredibly precise and nimble, taking the faster movements at a great pace, with a rattling Rondeaux and Capriccio at the end of No. 2, and a sprightly Courante in No. 4, for example. She adds subtle yet delightful ornamentation on some repeats, making the Menuet in No. 1 really dance. She makes use of a buff stop (where a strip of leather is placed against the strings, creating a muted sound) sparingly, such as in the repeat in No.1’s Sarabande, and creating almost a dulcimer effect in No. 5’s Minuetto. No. 6 is perhaps the most adventurous of the set, and there is a wonderfully free sense of mystery in the dramatic opening Toccata, with a beautifully flowing central fugue. There is more subtle ornamentation in the Allemande’s repeats, and the Corrente has driving energy, with a blistering flourish to the rapid arpeggios. The final angular Gigue would be a challenge to dance to, but here it finishes off this impressive two CD set with great spirit. 

Bach, J. S. 2020. J. S. Bach. 6 Partitas. Asako Ogawa. Compact Discs (2). First Hand Records. FHR92.

American composer Arnold Rosner (1945-2013) was new to me, and I’ve greatly enjoyed discovering his two choral masses on a disc from Blossom Street, a chamber choir of young singers directed by Hilary Campbell, founded in York but now based in London. Rosner was very much drawn to the polyphonic music of the Renaissance and early Baroque, and this is clear in the structure and form of the two masses here. However, his harmonic language is fascinating and within the construct of a mass setting, he manages to create some incredibly striking and dramatic moments. So his Missa L’homme armé, Op. 50 has the French secular song as its basis – as with many Renaissance masses, the tune is used as a ‘cantus firmus’, a sort of slow-moving spine, about which the other voices move, often using elements of the same tune. Things start out relatively conventionally in the opening Kyrie, although the harmonies become increasingly chromatic through the Christe and the second Kyrie. The Gloria contains a boisterous Laudamus te, with sliding, falling chromatic lines. The Credo is very dark in places, although suddenly bright at ‘Et resurrexit’, with a very dramatic Amen. The Hosanna is bouncy rhythmically, although the repeated ‘excelsis’ becomes rather aggressive, and it is in this movement that the harmonies are at their wildest. A calmer Benedictus gives some respite before the return of the Hosanna. Even the Agnus Dei is pretty full-blooded, although with a calmer conclusion. The Missa In nomine, Op. 62 also uses a cantus firmus, this time the ‘Gloria tibi trinitas’ plainchant. Its Kyrie is weightier, perhaps even more Romantic in terms of its texture and vocal impact. As with the Missa L’homme armé, the Gloria begins quietly, but launches into a lively Laudamus te, almost jazzy in its rhythms, and reminiscent of Poulenc in places. Following its scrunchy Amen, the Credo twists and turns with chromatic rising and falling harmonies. Renaissance simplicity returns briefly but very effectively for the Et incarnatus, with a dark, slow-moving Crucifixus. The Hosanna in the Sanctus is joyfully lively and less harsh than in the previous mass, the Benedictus is beautifully plaintive, and the Agnus Dei has dark harmonic moments, before a pretty insistent, almost demanding ‘grant us peace’ to end. Between the two masses is Peace, My Heart from Nine Tagore Madrigals, Op. 37. A setting of ‘The Gardener’ by Bengali author Rabindranath Tagore, it is lighter in texture than the masses, with lilting rhythms and contrasting groupings of voices. Blossom Street are highly impressive here in what is often very challenging music to sing, and they achieve great clarity of tone and precision in the tuning and harmonies, as well as rich energy in this frequently dramatic and fascinating choral music. Rosner wrote eight symphonies, three operas, as well as other orchestral and chamber music, and on the basis of this, he is definitely worth greater exploration.

Rosner, A. 2019. The Masses. Arnold Rosner. Blossom Street, Hilary Campbell. Compact Disc. Convivium Records. CR053.

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