Friday, 4 November 2016

CD Reviews - November 2016

The Tallis Scholars, directed by Peter Phillips, are now on their sixth disc of Masses by Josquin des Prés (c.1440-1521).  There are question marks over the authenticity of both the masses on this current disc, the Missa Di dadi (The Dice Mass) and the Missa Une mousse de Biscaye, although Phillips argues Josquin’s case well in his detailed notes.  The reason for the inclusion of dice at various points in the score of the MIssa Di Dadi is uncertain, with some connection between the numbers on the dice and the note lengths of the cantus firmus, but not entirely consistent.  The appearance of something so secular seems unusual, but gambling was very popular in Milan at the time, where Josquin wrote the mass – was this Josquin’s joke, or a nod to a wealthy patron?  The composition uses a  ‘cantus firmus’ – a tune often drawn from other sources (on this occasion a chanson by Robert Morton) around which composition is based – and this is placed in the tenor part, at different speeds (hence the dice connection). The Missa Une mousse de Biscaye draws on a secular song, with French and Basque text, and the title means ‘A lass from Biscay’.  So two examples of Josquin taking secular material as the basis for his Mass settings, the latter potentially Josquin’s earliest setting.  Both the masses here are in just four parts, and The Tallis Scholars are pared down to just eight voices, with some sections being sung by solo voices.  As ever, the blended sound is pure and even, but the simpler structure of just four parts, and a maximum of eight singers makes for a plainer, clearer sound than sometimes their larger forces produce.  These are beautiful performances, and highlights include the Crucifixus in the Missa Di dadi, with its low, falling sequential lines at ‘simul adoratur’, building to an emphatic Amen.  This is followed by a gloriously reverent Sanctus.  In the Missa Une mousse de Biscaye, there is more rhythmic motion, and the melody is passed around the parts, creating a more fluid feel.  The settings are lower, without high soaring soprano lines, and the combined voices here create a beautifully rich blend.  Highly recommended. 



The Brodsky Quartet have returned with their second recording of Brahms with Chandos, this time pairing the String Quartet, Op. 51 No. 1 with the great Piano Quintet, Op. 34, for which they are joined by the Ukrainian pianist Natacha Kudritskaya.  Much has been written about how Brahms struggled to follow on from Beethoven in particular in relation to his symphonic output, but similar self-doubt applied to his writing for the string quartet, and it took him until 1873, aged 40 to publish his first two, the Op. 51 set.  He only composed one more string quartet, favouring instead other chamber genres such as quintets and sextets, of which the Piano Quintet is certainly up there as one of his chamber masterpieces.  The String Quartet, Op. 51 No. 1 is, however, a fine work, with Brahms in his tragic, C minor mode.  The second movement Romanze is particularly beautiful, and the Brodsky Quartet excels here with their warm tone.  Their outer movements could have more dramatic edge and drive, but they never fail to produce a beautiful sound, and their blend is flawless.  The Piano Quintet is mammoth, and began life as a string quintet, and then as a sonata for two pianos, before he settled on its final scoring.  The first movement is full of weighty turbulence, building right from the bare unison opening to its dramatic conclusion.  The slow movement is mostly calm, with occasional undercurrents of disturbed cross rhythms disturbing the stability.  The unsettling mood continues in the Scherzo, and the Finale’s anxious slow opening develops into a dramatically passionate conclusion.  Once again, the Brodskys produce a wonderfully blended sound, and the balance with Kudritskaya is sensitive, although I would have liked a little more power from the piano at times.  Overall, these are strong performances, full of warmth and body.  


Baroque violin specialist Johannes Pramsohler returns with his Ensemble Diderot with another great discovery, the Trio Sonatas of one Jean-Joseph Cassanéa de Mondonville (c.1711-1772).  The French composer was a highly renowned composer in his day, although not generally remembered today.  His Trio Sonatas, Op. 2 are beautiful examples of the genre, with an artful combination of the French and Italian styles of the time.  Each in four movements, there are graceful opening adagios, lively fugues, followed by graceful slow movements, topped off with lively rapid finales.  The instrumentation is of particular interest here.  Pramsohler argues convincingly that Mondonville specially intended that some of the second violin parts could be played by a flute, keeping these parts free of double stops and placing them generally higher than the first violin part.  However, he only did this is some of the sonatas, not all, so the argument is that Mondonville wasn’t just taking the common pragmatic and economic line to expand his market, but actually specifically thought about the scoring for flute in some of the sonatas.  To this end, The Ensemble Diderot plays Sonatas 3 and 5 with violin (Pramsohler) and flute (Kristen Huebner), and the rest with two violins, Roldán Bernabé taking the second violin part.  The ‘third’ part of the trio, the continuo is provided by cellist Gulrim Choi and Philippe Grisvard on harpsichord.  These are delightful sonatas, and despite Mondonville’s slight over fondness for long chains of sequential writing, there is nevertheless much variety in the relatively constrained structure.  So, for example, the fugue of No. 4 is spiky and angular, whereas the fugue in No. 2 has a much more of a focus on running lines passed between the two violin parts.  And in the finales, he contrasts a running, racing presto in No. 1 with a dancing allegro in three to close No. 2.  As ever, the Ensemble Diderot play with great precision and energy, and the blending of the two violin parts weaving in and out of each other is particularly impressive.  The change to flute and violin provides a welcome change of texture, and Huebner is suitably sprightly to match Pramsohler in the opening duet allegro to No. 5.  But the absolute highlight for me is the very first movement of No. 1, with wonderfully delicate trilling passed back and forth between the two violins, Pramsohler and Bernabé playing with exquisite perfection here.  This world premiere recording is a welcome addition to the Ensemble Diderot’s impressive and growing catalogue.

Monday, 17 October 2016

CD Reviews - October 2016


Clarinettist Michael Collins has been working his way through an excellent survey of British Clarinet repertoire in his series of discs of Sonatas, and now with a second disc of Clarinet Concertos.  Here he is not only soloist but also conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra in four fascinating but pretty obscure works seldom performed.  He opens the disc with Movements for a Clarinet Concerto by Benjamin Britten.  This began life as an incomplete sketch for an opening concerto movement that Britten wrote in America with Benny Goodman in mind.  However, on his return to Britain, his manuscripts were impounded by customs, on suspicion that they might somehow contain coded information.  Goodman later got cold feet when the US entered the war, and Britten had moved his attention on to Peter Grimes, so the work was never completed.  In 1990, Colin Matthews (b.1946) orchestrated the sketch, and Collins premiered the resulting movement.  Then in 2007, Matthews took a two-piano work and an orchestral sketch by Britten, and orchestrated both to make a three-movement concerto, which Collins also premiered.  The result is a remarkably convincing work, with a striking opening flourish and spiky arpeggios for the clarinet in the first movement, a subtle and somewhat subdued central 'Elegiac Mazurka', followed by a lively finale, in which Matthews brings in the opening theme from the first movement to give the concerto a sense of cohesion.  Gerald Finzi's (1901-1956) Five Bagatelles, Op. 23a were originally for clarinet and piano, but were arranged for clarinet and string orchestra by Lawrence Ashmore (1928-2013) in 1989 as a companion piece for Finzi's well-known Clarinet Concerto (recorded by Collins on his first volume of British Concertos).  These are characterful, mostly lyrical pieces, with lots of very English pastoral melodies. Finzi's family had Italian and German Jewish roots, but he was born in London, and studied under Stanford. The Romance is particularly beautiful and breathes with a wistful idyllic air, and the final Fughetta is joyful and carefree.  Arnold Cooke (1906-2005) was born in Yorkshire, and studied with Paul Hindemith, before teaching in Manchester and then at Trinity College of Music in London until 1978.  His Concerto No. 1 contains lots of angular melodies that have a clear link to Hindemith, and the opening movement is full of spiky contrapuntal writing, the leaps and turns of which Collins negotiates with ease.  The central slow movement's lyrical melody ends with a repeated blackbird call, and there is a definite feel of flight and pastoral freedom here. The finale picks up the pace with a lively dancing clarinet theme supported by varied rhythmic interest in the orchestral writing.    Wales is represented here by the Concerto Op. 68 by William Mathias (1934-1992).  The Concerto is orchestrated for strings and a variety of percussion, which is used to great effect throughout.  The opening movement's 'Scotch snap' rhythms create a birdlike, pecking feel to the melody, enhanced with Matthias' use of percussion, with a slower central section enhanced by an eerie vibraphone.  The slow movement is more introspective, with a mysterious intensity throughout, ending with a cadenza for the clarinet, which, joined by rototoms, rushes straight into a somewhat frenzied, jazz-infused finale, giving little breathing space for the clarinet.  This is a disc packed with variety and interest, and Collins and the BBC Symphony Orchestra give faultless and enthusiastic performances of these fascinating works, making this worthy of high recommendation.


Lutenist Alex McCartney follows up his debut album, which I reviewed in January 2016 with 'Elizabeth's Lutes', a disc of lute music from the time of Elizabeth I.  She was a keen lute player herself, and also employed many musicians in her court.  McCartney has put together a nicely varied programme, all recorded in a highly resonant acoustic, which actually suits this music well, adding warmth and depth to the tone.  However, he opens the disc with a delightful piece, Susanne un jour, by the Franco-Flemish composer, Orlande de Lassus (1532-1594), who has no real connection to Elizabeth. Nevertheless, de Lassus was world famous and would surely have influenced musicians and composers of the time, and despite not specifically writing for the lute as far as we know, this lute arrangement was made by a contemporary in England.  There are a number of works here by Daniel Bacheler (c.1574-c.1610), who was 'Lutenist and Groome of her Majestie's Privie Chamber'.  His Monsieur's Allemande is the most substantial, with great opportunities for McCartney to demonstrate his command of the instrument in its variations.  He also plays two of Anthony Holborne's (c.1545-1602) rich Pavanes, and his touching Last Will and Testament.  Holborne was probably an usher at Elizabeth's court, and was not employed as a musician, despite composing much lute, cittern and bandora music in his lifetime.  Alfonso Ferrabosco's (1543-1588) Miserere is a little more ornate, with a delicacy and lightness, which McCartney brings out well here.  John Dowland's (1563-1626) career in England suffered from his early conversion to Catholicism, and he spent some time employed as a lutenist in Denmark, only finally being employed by the English court after Elizabeth's death. His Fancy included here begins quite starkly but soon gathers pace, building in virtuosity.  William Byrd's (c.1540-1623) keyboard Pavane Bray was arranged by Francis Cutting (c.1550-c.1596), and McCartney manages its contrapuntal lines evenly. This is a highly enjoyable disc, warmly recorded and expertly performed throughout.


Edward Gardner is on the third volume of Leoš Janáček’s (1854-1928) orchestral works with the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra, and the main work here is one of his finest non-operatic works, the wonderful Glagolitic Mass.  Glagolitic refers to the script, an early version of Cyrillic, in which the Old Church Slavonic Mass was originally written.  This is an incredibly challenging choral work, and here Gardner has massed together four choirs, the Bergen Philharmonic Choir being enhanced by the Choir of Collegiûm Mûsicûm, the Edvard Grieg Kor and the Bergen Cathedral Choir. They opt for the revised edition, which includes changes made by Janáček during rehearsals for its premiere.  There are arguments for both – were those changes due to inadequacies of the Brno premiere forces, or were they changes that Janáček really wanted in the light of hearing the work being performed?  The upshot is that the earlier version has more raw edges, but also a more ‘dangerous’ energy.  However, the revised version is more often performed, and here it receives a highly energetic and incisive performance.  The choral forces are solid, with clear diction and well-blended tone, particularly impressive in the wildly joyful Svet (Sanctus).  The solo line-up is also strong, particularly soprano Sara Jakubiak and tenor StuartSkelton. Thomas Trotter’s wild organ solo is incredibly powerful, followed by a gloriously brassy Intrada to close the work. This is a strong performance, with great depth of recorded sound from Chandos.  I miss hearing the Intrada at the opening as well as at the end – but of course on CD, that’s easily rectified.  The disc also contains a moody Adagio, more overtly romantic than his later works, but nonetheless enjoyable.  Zdrávas Maria (Hail Mary) is for Soprano, chorus, violin and organ, and it receives a touchingly sensitive reading here from Sara Jakubiak and two of the choirs.  The final work is a setting of The Lord’s Prayer, Otče Náš, again for chorus and organ, but now with Tenor solo and harp.  Stuart Skelton and the choral forces give a passionate reading of this attractive setting.  However, none of the additional works can compete with the drama of the Glagolitic Mass and the powerful performance it receives here.



(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, October 2016)

Thursday, 6 October 2016

Virtuosic command and intimate focus from Benjamin Grosvenor

© operaomnia.co.uk 
International Piano Series, Southbank Centre

Benjamin Grosvenor (piano)

4 October 2016

St John's Smith Square, London



★★★★




Read my full review on Bachtrack here.

'A fierce intensity of concentration and precision'.

'Grosvenor combined his obvious command of the virtuosic demands with the ability to draw the audience into the moments of intimacy, showing great delicacy and subtlety'.

'What made this a stunning finale from Grosvenor was his attention to the structure and melodic content, never allowing the virtuosic showmanship to overpower'.

'An impressive demonstration of Grosvenor’s intelligent programming, virtuosic command and developing stylistic range'.

Mozart: Piano Sonata in B flat major, 'Linz', K333

Chopin: Piano Sonata No. 2 in B flat minor ('Funeral march'), Op.35 

Scriabin: Piano Sonata no. 2 'Sonata-Fantasy' in G sharp minor, Op.19

Granados: Goyescas, No. 1 Los Requiebros & No. 2 El fandango de candil

Liszt: Rhapsodie Espagnole, S 254

Encore:
Moszkowski: Étude de Virtuosité in A flat major, Op.72 no. 11