Cello

Canada, Cello, Chamber Music, Classical Music, Composers, Composers Now, Concert review, Conductors, Contemporary Classical, New York, Orchestral, Premieres, viola, Violin, Women composers

Momenta Festival IX: Ives at 150 and a Quartet at 20

On Thursday evening in New York, Momenta Quartet’s October festival – now nine years running – closed with an assorted program, enthusiastically curated by violist/composer Stephanie Griffin. Griffin is the last founding member still actively performing with the group. Noting that this festival has ever featured the opportunity for each member to have curatorial carte blanche on one night only, Griffin nodded to the overall 2024 theme – Charles Ives at 150 – while admitting that “this is not a thematic program, but rather a joyous collection of pieces that I saw fit to celebrate the genius of Charles Ives and my own twenty years as the violist of Momenta.”  As such, her own instalment was themed Momenta at 20. Griffin’s rather fine and comprehensive program notes are recommended ancillary reading, and can be found HERE.

The first musical offering was from Mexican composer Julián Carrillo: his String Quartet No. 3 “Dos Bosquejos.” Opening with muted strings and an effective microtonal chorale, this music veiled itself in mystery, dark and lush, a perfect selection with which to begin the evening. The piece continued to unfold like a set of exercises – or experiments – in string writing, with novel techniques (ca. 1927!) and textural effects. The first movement, “Meditación,” eventually burst a romantic vein, with solos and extended techniques eliciting vaguely integrated call-and-answers.

The second movement, “En Secreto,” felt eerily expressionist. (Griffin likens Carrillos’ music “to the work of surrealist artists such as Salvador Dalí and René Magritte.”) While related in mood and material to the first, the “secrets” revealed in this second and final movement were whispered between instruments in a matter-of-fact, straightforward mode, a little too efficiently.

Momenta seemed to relish these coloristic experiments in extended space. Carrillo’s numerous homophonic passages prove especially demanding in their intonation and yet most octave unisons were handled judiciously by this group. Suddenly, just as this essaying music began to fatigue under its own weight, it was over: a mere eleven minutes in duration.

After this, Stephanie Griffin spoke to the audience about the quartet’s close relationship with the music of Carrillo. They “fell in love” with the string writing of this composer and have established an important connection with his unduly neglected catalogue. Griffin has proclaimed* the forthcoming recording of Carrillo’s complete string quartets on the Naxos label to be Momenta’s “most significant legacy.”

The remainder of the first half highlighted early music from Charles Ives. Brief and inconsequential, The Innate (1908) for string quintet and piano, is based on hymnal material. It stood out as a somewhat unquantifiable preamble to the composer’s early quartet – the Quartet No. 1 (1896-1902) – which has been a favorite of Momenta’s, as Griffin explained in her spoken introduction. It was a part of their first season in 2004-2005, twenty years ago.

This first quartet from the turn of the century is a high-energy, Ivesian romp in three movements, containing a great deal of musical irony: an irony sometimes missed by Momenta on Thursday night. Striking the right side of Ives’ mercurial nature can challenging, particularly in his earlier works. There exists a quirky dimensionality here, even in seemingly upfront and “folksy” material. During Thursday’s performance, a command of tempi and rhythm in the first movement could have been better established.

The rhetorical components of the first and second movements urge a singular vision of interpretation. This brave new music, (as it was in its own time), remains theatrical today. For Momenta, the blending and balance amongst the four instruments went astray at times, requiring more central grounding in the hopes of evoking a sense of play. Where was the element of surprise?

Conversely, the third movement read as well integrated and convincing. The individualistic approach from each player here yielded dynamic displays of line and texture. One was reminded of Dvorak’s string quartets: folk-inspired and generous. Through contrapuntal awareness and a dash of extra courage, Momenta brought the recital’s first half to a delightful close, gleeful and quicksilver; Ives himself, not to mention Dvorak, would have approved.

After an intermission during which the audience was advised to stay in their seats, this lengthy program continued with a world premiere by Stephanie Griffin, herself in the solo role. The Overgrown Cathedral (2019-24) for viola and lower string ensemble was inspired by a disused, ruined cathedral in Brazil, the Igreja do Senhor da Vera Cruz.

Griffin’s idiomatic writing for solo viola flattered the piece’s narrative musical structure. Her new work unfolded as a dirge-like processional, improvisatory in its droning, rolling lyricism and unusually self-contained. The pulse altered little throughout the single-movement and skillful writing for all players alike brought to mind successful spectralist composers as well as the more contemporary Scotsman (and friend to string players), James MacMillan.

Solos in other instruments – especially the cello – peppered Griffin’s soundscape. About midway through the proceedings, “mosquito” effects emerged antiphonally, forming an integral role in the narrative and echoed by accompanying violas. As the scoring was devoid of violins (!) this resulted in an attractive sonority. The constant lulling never ceased and, relievedly, never got in the way of prominent soloistic activity. Dipping in and out of familiar string effects like sul ponticello and glissandi, The Overgrown Cathedral meandered its way to a final utterance, at the brink of being circuitous.

Photo credit: Nana Shi

As finale, and in diptych with Griffin’s Cathedral, Claude Vivier’s Zipangu was an impressive stroke. Interspersed between these two larger works for string orchestra was another short, innocuous piece from Charlies Ives: his Hymn of 1904. One craved more context for this curatorial placement, especially for its juxtaposition with Zipangu.

But Vivier’s vivid, brazen work for strings from 1980 remained an apt and powerful choice. Brimming with a depth of sound we had not yet heard on the program, Zipangu boasted its novel textures as a means of expression, easily engrossing even the most casual listener. Vivier himself claimed, “within the frame of a single melody I explore in this work different aspects of color. I tried to ‘blur’ my harmonic structure through different bowing techniques.”

Glimmers of microtonal Ligeti shone through the spectral haze of this work (*think* 2001: A Space Odyssey). After Griffin’s favoring of low registers, the arrival of Vivier’s upper strings scoring proved a dramatic and welcomed shift.

This branch of string writing is not always easy to interpret nor to refine, especially for a quasi pick-up orchestra. Nevertheless, the sheer impact and boldness of the material seemed to inspire the string players on Thursday, many of whom Griffin described as “Momenta alumni,” having played with the group over the past 20 years.

Photo credit: Nana Sh

For some time, conductor and artistic director, Sebastian Zubieta, had urged Momenta to program this music by Vivier. On Thursday night, it seemed to augment the quartet’s profile and manifest a compelling wrap-up to the 2024 Festival.

What’s more, the works of Claude Vivier are worthy of wider recognition, 41 years on from his death. Thanks to Momenta and their colleagues this relevant, near-cosmic, Canadian voice reached our sympathetic ears on Thursday night, straight on through the hurly-burly “blur” of a 21st century that Charles Ives would have almost certainly recognized.

by Adam Sherkin
Cello, Composers, Concert review, Concerts, Contemporary Classical, New York, Orchestras

Sphinx Virtuosi and New York Philharmonic Play Black American Composers

Cellist Seth Parker Woods with New York Philharmonic, Thomas Wilkins conducting. Music by Nathalie Joachim on October 17, 2024 (credit: Chris Lee)

Black American composers dominated the programming at two of New York City’s major institutions last week — a 180° turn from the typical fare of Dead White Men at most orchestral concerts.

On Wednesday, October 16, Carnegie Hall presented Sphinx Virtuosi — the flagship ensemble of the Sphinx Organization, an organization whose mission it is to encourage careers of Black and Latino classical musicians and arts administrators. Thursday at Lincoln Center’s Geffen Hall was New York Philharmonic’s program “Exploring Afromodernism” — a program which was repeated on Friday. Both concerts featured outstanding and committed performances of mainly 21st century classical works.

Sphinx Virtuosi at Carnegie Hall on October 16, 2024 (credit Brian Hatton)

Sphinx Virtuosi is a conductorless chamber orchestra of 18 Black and Latino string players. It can be hard to pull off cohesive performances without a conductor, but it was immediately apparent that this ensemble was up to the task. The concert began with a reworking of Scott Joplin’s overture to his opera Treemonisha, arranged by Jannina Norpoth. The work infused classical gestures with blues, gospel and a bit of ragtime. The most effective and exciting selection was the world premiere of Double Down, Invention No. 1 for Two Violins by Curtis Stewart, performed by Njioma Chinyere Grievous and Tai Murray. It was a brilliant display of virtuosity from both violinists, playing off one another in a keen game of counterpoint which included a fiery display of fiddling as well as percussive foot-stomping. The audience roared its approval with a lengthy standing ovation. Stewart’s other work on the program was the New York premiere of Drill (co-commissioned by Carnegie Hall, Sphinx Virtuosi and New World Symphony). Percussionist Josh Jones, a member of the ensemble, was the soloist. It was a wild piece with frenetic drumming countered by subtle moments of gentle trills on wood blocks. All in all, it was a roiling cluster of excitement.

Music by Derrick Skye, Levi Taylor and the 19th century Venezuelan-American Teresa Careña, rounded out the brief program, which included a five-minute promotional film and comments by Sphinx Organization president Afa Dworkin.

The New York Philharmonic’s program was a wonderful display of a range of talents and generations conducted by Thomas Wilkins. It began with Carlos Simon’s Four Black American Dances, which impressed right away with the composer’s great orchestration. The rich first movement showcased the brilliant playing of every section of the Philharmonic, including a rollicking solo by concertmaster Sheryl Staples, who showed off her great artistry later in the work as well. After a somewhat schmaltzy second movement (“Waltz”) and predictably percussive third (“Tap!”), the final section (“Holy Dance”) began with a mystical aura which devolved into a loud and jaunty display.

The New York premiere of Nathalie Joachim’s concerto Had To Be, written for the cellist Seth Parker Woods began with an off-stage band replicating a New Orleans-style “second line.” After a smooth transition into a slow and lush passage by the orchestra on stage, the solo cellist had a lyrical soulful melody. The second movement, “Flare” launched with boisterous brass and percussion, which tended to drown out the strings. “With Grace,” the final movement, was beautifully emotional. Though the soloist wasn’t given an especially virtuosic part, Woods’ stage presence dominated throughout the work. Wilkins graceful conducting infused an appropriate amount of emotion into the performance.

David Baker’s Kosbro was intense from its very beginning, with driving rhythms, insistent timpani whacks, double-tongued brass and winds and angular melodies. Written in the 1970s, the work was an effective combination of jazz and classical styles.

William Grant Still’s gift for melody, harmony and orchestration made me wonder why this particular work – Symphony No. 4, Autochthonous, (the subtitle refers to indigenous people) isn’t programmed more often. Still’s superb orchestra writing balanced winds and strings in a dialogue which Wilkins navigated beautifully, each exchange infused with profound meaning.

Beyond the demographics of the composers, a similarity on both of these programs was that each of the works by the living composers was an olio of styles. In each case, the creators sought to include a variety of folk, pop, jazz and other cultural idioms in a single composition. It may be unfair to generalize, because the selections were undoubtedly programmatic decisions. I promise not to make a broad generalization until I hear more music from each of these composers, which I am eager to do.

With regard to the focus of these two concerts, I am going to say something very unpopular: Nobody is proclaiming that there aren’t enough White rappers or that Anglos aren’t well enough represented in, say, Latin jazz or conjunto music. And yet in recent years there has been great emphasis on striving for diversity in classical music. I’m not saying we shouldn’t work very hard to be inclusive of all Americans — or of all peoples in general for that matter — to be a part of this art form, this culture. I’m wondering aloud why it seems especially crucial in classical music.

Let’s discuss.

Be that as it may, the Sphinx Organization has been a leader in encouraging careers and celebrating people of color in classical music for over 25 years. They have done an admirable — nay amazing — job, welcoming hundreds of young musicians into the art form, creating role models for future generations, and creating an environment in which it is not only comfortable, but encouraging for young musicians to get involved and excel in the field.

by Gail Wein
Cello, Classical Music, Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Piano, Violin, Women composers

The Knights at Carnegie Hall: It’s a Family Affair

Pianist Jeffrey Kahane with The Knights
Pianist Jeffrey Kahane with The Knights (credit Jennifer Taylor)

It’s always a family affair with The Knights. The orchestra was founded in 2007 by the brothers Eric and Colin Jacobsen, who share artistic director duties as well as musical positions (Eric is conductor; Colin is concertmaster). Another family connection on the May 16, 2024 program at Carnegie’s Zankel Hall was that of the soloist, the pianist Jeffrey Kahane, for whom his son Gabriel Kahane wrote a concerto. Heirloom, a work which explores music through the lens of several generations of Kahane’s family, received its New York premiere at this concert. Its conventional three-movemennt construct and post-Shostakovich style fit right in with 21st century classical music – especially of the ilk that The Knights often features on its programs. The pianist Jeffrey Kahane was as virtuosic a player as when he burst onto the classical music scene in the early 1980’s as a finalist of the Van Cliburn Piano Competition. He flew through the complex rhythms and flashy runs musically and compellingly, every note a joy to hear. In the first section, “Guitars in the Attic,” G. Kahane explored the colors of the orchestra, from the shining brass to a florid section highlighting double reeds to a whimsical melody played by marimba.

The emotionally penetrating middle movement, “My Grandmother Knew Alban Berg,” alludes to Gabriel’s grandmother’s love for German music and culture contrasting with the terrors of Nazi Germany from which she narrowly escaped. The movement began with a languid trumpet solo in a duet with the piano, and I’m guessing that the solo piano melody was a tone-row (a compositional element at the core of Berg’s style). The center section includes a dense “Brahmsian” theme with a German flair.

The composer looks at life through the eyes of his young daughter in the final movement. “Vera’s Chicken-Powered Transit Machine” (the title refers to a makeshift toy crafted out of an empty diaper carton) included fiddling strings, a playful wood block and muted staccato trumpet. The work’s kickass conclusion was predictable, but that didn’t make it any less thrilling.

Singer-songwriter-composer-guitarist Gabriel Kahane with The Knights
Singer-songwriter-composer-guitarist Gabriel Kahane with The Knights (credit Jennifer Taylor)

The younger Kahane is more known as a singer-songwriter than as a composer of concert music. He has a compelling voice, both aurally and figuratively. The audience at Zankel was treated to two of his songs, both with the composer as vocalist and electric guitarist, accompanied by The Knights with Mr. Kahane, Sr. at the piano. Where Are the Arms was on the program immediately following Heirloom; and Little Love was a touching encore at the end of the concert.

The program opened with Rhapsody No. 2, a work by Jessie Montgomery heard for the first time in this version for violin and orchestra created by Michi Wiancko. The violinist Colin Jacobsen was the soloist, in complete command of the fiddle techniques that this colorful work required. With Copelandesque chords and jazzy rhythms, the work’s style was unequivocally “American”.

Cellist Karen Ouzounian with The Knights (credit Jennifer Taylor)
Cellist Karen Ouzounian with The Knights (credit Jennifer Taylor)

A sumptuous work for cello and strings by Anna Clyne led the second half of the concert. Soloist Karen Ouzounian, a member of The Knights cello section, displayed her gorgeous singing tone on Shorthand, a beautifully lush composition. Clyne’s melodies reference Beethoven’s “Kreutzer” Sonata and Janacek’s String Quartet No. 1, “Kreutzer Sonata.”

The Knights turned to a crowd pleasing and familiar Mozart symphony, No. 31, “Paris”, at the end of the program. The group’s beautiful performance, oozing with musicality, precision and effective dynamic contrast proved their facility with core repertoire as well as newly minted gems.

This was the final concert of the ensemble’s three-program series at Carnegie this season. They’ll return to the Zankel stage for three concerts in the 2024-2025 season, with performances on October 24, February 20, and May 15.

by Gail Wein
CD Review, Cello, Contemporary Classical, File Under?, Guitar, Minimalism

David Crowell – Point Cloud (CD Review)

David Crowell
Point/Cloud
Better Company Records

Composer and multi-instrumentalist David Crowell has minimalist bona fides: he played in the Philip Glass Ensemble for nearly a decade. But Crowell draws from a number of traditions in his work: prog rock, jazz, folk, and other contemporary classical idioms. His latest, Point/Cloud, features works for percussion, guitars, and a moving finale for voice, cello, and Crowell’s instrumentation.

Sandbox Percussion performs Verses for a Liminal Space. At nearly a quarter of an hour, it shows Crowell’s keen sense of pacing. He conceives of the piece as being cast in three verses. There is a totalist ambience to its opening, with forceful drums combined with pitched percussion to rousing effect. The middle of work is a beautiful slow section. The drums gradually recede to only articulating emphasized beats, and then fall into silence. Pitched percussion arpeggiations and a repeated semitone form a ground that gradually adds melodic content and bowed crotales. Shimmering glockenspiel transitions the work back to the fast tempo, with cascading riffs in the xylophone and the drums gradually returning, first just to accentuate and then to provide hemiola as metric undergirding. The pitched percussion likewise engages in metric transformations. Just when it seems that things are about to heat up, Verses suddenly ends, denying expectations. This is a common feature of Crowell’s music, and it reminds me of Schumann’s Papillions, where each movement feels like entering and exiting a room. The door closes and the sound world changes.

The title work for overdubbed guitars is played by Dan Lippel. Cast in three movements, it begins with a classical guitar solo that is soon joined by electric guitars in cascading repetitions and arpeggiated harmonies. The influence of Electric Counterpoint is clear. Crowell, however, also incorporates prog rock elements reminiscent of Steve Howe and Steve Hackett, particularly in the supple middle movement. However, in the final movement polyrhythmic ostinatos return the music to the orbit of Steve Reich. Lippel plays all the various components of this considerable challenging work with precision, employing a variety of timbres and dynamic shadings.

Lippel is joined by another guitar virtuoso, Mak Grgic, on the classical guitar duo Pacific Coast Highway. Once again, polyrhythms are omnipresent, and there is a sense of jazz and flamenco à la the Al Di Meola, John McLaughlin, and Pace de Lucia Friday Night in San Francisco album. The playing is authoritative, nuanced, and propulsive.

Vocalist and cellist Iva Casian-Lakoš collaborates with Crowell on the final piece, 2 Hours in Zadar. The work contrasts with the rhythmic effervescence of the previous three, moving at a slow tempo and exploring gradually evolving textures. The text is by Casian-Lakoš’s mother, Nela Lakoš. The piece begins with a sample of Nela Lakoš speaking Croatian. Casian-Lakoš plays shards of tunes and glissandos, singing with an exquisite fragility. Crowell’s sustained electronics and frequent wide glissandos, some manipulated samples of the voice, ghost the singing and cello lines, creating a compound melodic framework that is both colorful and vulnerable in presentation. Crowell hews closer to Sigur Rós than the influences found in the previous pieces. It provides the program with a touching valediction. Point/Cloud is uniformly excellent, a recording that is among my favorites thus far in 2024.

Christian Carey

by Christian Carey
CD Review, Cello, File Under?, jazz

Laufey – A Night at the Symphony (CD Review)

Laufey

A Night at the Symphony

Laufey, vocals; Iceland Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Hugh Brunt

AWAL

 

A Night at the Symphony sees release this week. Jazz artist Laufey performs a varied program in a concert performance with the Iceland Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Hugh Brunt. It consists of previously released songs off her debut album Everything I Know About Love and 2021 EP Typical of Me, standards, and Icelandic jazz artist Elly Vilhjálms’ “Ég Veit Þú Kemur. Hearing a jazz ballad sung in Icelandic is a new experience for me. Vilhjálms’ style and the arrangement are indebted to Kurt Weill.

The hit tune, “Valentine,” displays the characteristics of Laufey’s voice, with suave phrasing and a warm tone. Laufey accompanies herself on the cello on “I Wish You Love,” using pizzicatos to create a bluesy progression. Her rendition of “The Nearness of You” demonstrates an awareness of swing that often places the vocal ahead and behind of the beat in a fluid rendition. “Every Time We Say Goodbye” is a valedictory staple. Here Laufey displays her awareness of expert predecessors who sang the American Songbook, Ella Fitgerald notable among them. A Night at the Symphony, a retro revival of swing and standards, is an excellent introduction to an artist coming into her own.

by Christian Carey
CD Review, Cello, Chamber Music, Composers, Contemporary Classical, File Under?

Gity Razaz – The Strange Highway (CD Review)

 

Gity Razaz

The Strange Highway

Francesca de Pasquale, violin; Katharine Kang Litton, viola;

Ingbal Segev, cello; Scott Cuellar, piano

All-American Cello Band; Metropolist Ensemble, Andrew Cyr, conductor

BIS Records

 

Born in Iran and now residing in New York, over the past fifteen years composer Gity Razaz has created a number of well-crafted works. The Strange Highway, her first portrait CD, includes chamber music, ensemble works, and electronics in live and studio recordings.

 

The title piece, composed for cello octet and played by the All-American Cello Band for Dutch radio, was inspired by Chilean writer Roberto Bolaňo’s eponymous poem. It features outer sections of considerable intensity, with forte tutti ostinatos pressing the action forward. The central section begins to dissolve into solo lines and fragments of the ostinatos, only to bring lush harmonies to the fore. The final section reprises the intensity and material of the first.

 

Over the course of Duo’s two movements, the first angst-filled and the second boisterous, Razaz deconstructs and varies a single melody. The transformation from the cadenza passage of the first movement leading into a repurposed dancing melody for the second is well conceived. Violinist Francesa de Pasquale brings a limpid tone to the cadenzas and bright tone and incisive rhythms to the latter half of the piece. Pianist Scott Cuellar provides sonorous accompaniment to the opening and stands out in the muscular stabs of the fast section.

 

Razaz describes her solo viola work “Spellbound” as a soliloquy that features a melody that “hints at Persian music.” Katharina Kang Litton plays it with intensity and a fluid rhythmic sense. “Metamorphosis of Narcissus” is the title of a Salvador Dali painting. It is also the inspiration of the final piece on The Strange Highway. The myth itself has captivated Razaz and is an equal part of her considerations when composing the piece. The latter seems more resonant; not much surrealism is heard. An evocatively scored tone poem, “Metamorphosis of Narcissus” is crammed full of vividly orchestrated, lively motives. The Metropolitan Ensemble, conducted by Andrew Cyr, played this live at Le Poisson Rouge. They provide a detailed rendering of the piece. I was glad not to hear the tinkling of glasses in the background (how did they manage that?).

 

Cellist Ingbal Segev commissioned “Legend of Sigh” from Razaz. The work is the most extended on the recording – nineteen minutes in duration – and features atmospheric fixed electronics with overdubbed cello. The best parts of the piece make a “super-cello” out of overdubs, somewhat reminiscent of the textures in The Strange Highway’s central section. Descending glissandos are used to heighten tension throughout “Legend of Sigh’s” midpoint. As a foil, modal ascending passages provide a measure of consonance to the proceedings. A blustery section in the middle energizes both the cello and supplies clarion electronics. This is succeeded by an overdubbed ostinato accompaniment and high-lying sustained lines with bell-like electronics.

 

The second movement displays Segev’s abundant technical skill with a fleet cadenza followed by overdubbed pizzicatos. These two materials morph into the afore-mentioned “super-cello” texture in repeated sections accompanying triumphant ascending scales. Electronics return to accompany a poignant interlude. A sumptuous theme is then accompanied by all of the elements, including a new texture – cello choir playing arpeggiations – that affords a departure at the piece’s conclusion, with a little tag of electronics as an outro. A varied and compelling piece, “Legend of Sigh” is the most forward-looking offering on the recording. Razaz would do well to develop her creativity in this pocket.

 

Quite a promising portrait recording. Let’s hear some of Razaz’s operas next!

 

-Christian Carey

 

 

by Christian Carey
CDs, Cello, Contemporary Classical, File Under?

Ivan Fedele – Works for Violoncello (Review)

Ivan Fedele

Works for Violoncello

Michele Marco Rossi, cello; Francesco Abbrescia, electronics

Kairos CD

Ivan Fedele (b. 1953) has created a large catalog of compositions. Like J.S. Bach, he has written six French suites, “Suite Francese.” Unlike Bach, Fedele’s six suites are for different instruments. His latest recording on the Kairos label focuses on the suites for cello, a solo Partita, and a reworking of Suite Francese VI that incorporates electronics. 

Suite VI uses traditional baroque dances as movement titles, further underscoring the question: how closely related are Fedele’s pieces to their progenitors? It is a similar problem to considering the movements from Schoenberg’s Op. 25 Suite, and in both cases, any incorporation of baroque dance rhythms is, at best, greatly sublimated. Within these modern takes on the suite however, there are rhythmic and textural distinctions between movements that suggest that they are indeed organized as a set of variations.

The opening “Preludio” features trilled passages and ascending chromatic scalar segments, offset by rhythmically punctuated bass notes. “Ostinato” has a middle register melody that, rather than remaining unvaried, throughout the movement enlarges and collapses. “Corrente 1” features driving rhythms and squalls of sound effects against an occasionally present motive built out of minor seconds and minor thirds. Partway through, a huge build up of repeated notes arrives in a series of bass notes, giving the sense of an interior structural boundary. The bass register is then used as an ostinato with periodic interruptive soprano register squalls. The minor second theme once again makes appearances set against thrumming bass. The upper register is reasserted with a flurry of activity, juxtaposed against lower register glissandos. Those glissandos populate the final section, alongside minor seconds, now in the bass register. “Interludio” is a duet between a plummy tenor register melody and high harmonics. The eventual imposition of a bass line makes it conclude as a trio. “Corrente 2” is rife with combative repeated notes bounced from register to register. Upper register interjections harry the main rhetorical thread, which is a repeated move towards descent to the bottom of the instrument. Chords replace the upper voice and a longer bass melody is introduced and then swiftly deconstructed. Pizzicatos and bow pressure treat a melody that soars to the soprano register. This stentorian climax is just as swiftly replaced by hushed effects to close. The suite is an impressively varied piece in terms of techniques employed, expressive qualities, and ways in which relatively brief movements are given intricate formal identities. 

Suite III has a different character at the outset of its first movement, “Arc-En-Ciel” with gently juxtaposed harmonics crafting a gradual move towards open strings and octaves that grounds the harmony between sliding tones. The harmonic series is presented successively in harmonics and open strings, finishing the movement with a sense of tonicization. “Preludio e Ciaccona” contrasts this with reedy thematic cells spiraling away, finally supplanted by open low strings and bass register slides. “Branle Double” contrasts this by starting in the upper register and moving through chromatic descents that land on dissonant multi-stops. Partway through, things are halted by bass octaves. The chromatic descents are now replicated in mid-range octaves. Angular and rangy melodic material is given an ardorous presentation. The piece gradually quickens, adding harmonics and bass notes to the line to create a compound melody. Here as elsewhere, cellist Michele Marco Rossi supplies a detailed, embodied, and expressive interpretation of Fedele’s music.

All of the pieces employ extended techniques, but Partita is a showcase for them. Instead of dances as movement titles, here we are given a bit more of a hint of generative properties for some –  “X-Waves” and “Z-Point” – and moods for others – “Hommagesquisse” and “Threnos.” The latter title speaks to an overarching sense of keening and frequent violent utterances. The use of slow-moving glissandos imparts a vocality to the playing that underscores the sense of mourning. The final movement, “Corrente,” adds percussive raps and slaps alongside mercurial melodic playing that is embellished with high harmonics. There is a slight sense of triple meter that is one of the most palpable places related to dance. 

The revised version of Suite VI, Suite VIb, incorporates electronics. It would be interesting to know whether Fedele had this in mind before composing the original version. There is certainly ample room left for the treatments employed, most of them effects that embellish the existing music. Harmonics are enhanced, repeated passages reverberate to create a sense of overlap, the gestures that result taking on the perception of a “super instrument.” Overdoubling and squealing treble register climaxes replace considerations of the baroque suite with ones of deformation and deconstruction. It is an impressive example of reconstituting an acoustic work in the digital domain. Which to prefer? Best not to have to choose. Recommended. 

-Christian Carey     

by Christian Carey
CD Review, Cello, Contemporary Classical, File Under?, Percussion

Žibuoklê Martinaitytê – Ex Tenebris Lux (CD Review)

Žibuoklê Martinaitytê

Ex Tenebris Lux

Pavel Gunter, percussion; Rokas Vaitkevičius, cello

Lithuanian Chamber Orchestra, Karolis Variakojis, conductor

Ondine 

 

Ex Tenebris Lux is the second portrait recording in as many years for composer Žibuoklê Martinaitytê. The works here are for string orchestra, two of them with soloists. They present a reduced language, often involving modal collections without any accidentals. Despite this, Martinaitytê draws forth a variety of compelling sonorities and textures.

 

The Lithuanian Chamber Orchestra plays seamlessly, with rich tone and precise intonation. The title work, from 2021, is abetted by these qualities, its descending arpeggiations and vertical sonorities played with rhythmic precision. Conductor Karolis Variakojis understands that forward momentum is a necessary approach to avoid the thick textures feeling languid. In the piece Nunc fluens, Nunc stans (2020), percussionist Pavel Giunter creates gently shimmering passages that enliven the strings. The title is a quote from Boethius, a rough translation being, “The now that passes creates time; the now that remains creates eternity.” Written in the midst of pandemic lockdown, Martinaitytê suggests that this piece was in response to the past being gone, the future being very uncertain, and the only thing left being the present moment. The mindfulness of this bespeaks the meditative trance that Nunc fluens, Nunc stans creates, a beautiful space of contemplation. 

 

Cellist Rokas Vaitkevičius is the soloist on Sielunmaisema (2019). Cast in four movements, the thirty-five minute long piece is a concerto that is more rhapsodic than virtuosic with a spacious ambience. Unfurling melodies, undulating passages, and harmonics are set against glissandos, repeated notes, and achingly long melodies in the ensemble. Ebullient repeated notes and dynamic swells characterize the second movement. The solo takes up harmonic glissandos to provide a coloristic element to the proceedings. The third movement incorporates hushed, mysterious verticals and pitch slides in the solo. The conclusion of Sielunmaisema features poignant overlapping melodies and chordal swells. Questing counterpoint, with the cello solo plangently mining its upper register, creates a closing section that soars with graceful elegance. 

 

Martinaitytê spent her pandemic time productively, crafting two of the three expressive works here. They are memorably beautiful pieces. Her previous recording, Saudade, is also richly recommended. 

 

-Christian Carey

 

by Christian Carey
CD Review, Cello, Chamber Music, Contemporary Classical

Chris Votek – Memories of a Shadow

Microfest Records has recently released Memories of a Shadow, a new CD by Chris Votek. The liner notes state that Votek is “…an innovative composer refracting Indian Classical music through the lens of modern chamber music.” The string ensemble performing on this recording consists of two violins, two cellos and a viola. The lower registers predominate, creating an unusual sonic balance and perspective. The resulting album is an appealing blend of raga forms incorporating Western medieval harmonies clothed in deep tones and a rich timbre.

Serpents, the first piece of the album, opens with sustained tones dominated by the cellos with more active phrasings in the higher parts. The tempo is measured, but not slow, creating a sense of quiet drama. There is a solid, woody foundation to this that alters the harmonic center, challenging the listener’s preconceptions of string ensemble music. The deepest tones are often gnarly, but this only adds to the refreshing context. As the piece proceeds, a series of intertwining passages coil in and around each other – serpent-like – but there is no menace in the lovely harmonies that develop. Serpents is beautifully wrought, the musical equivalent of a finely carved wooden sculpture.

Fossil Dance follows, with a fast opening that features active rhythms and nicely blended harmony. Repeating parts follow each other and a pleasing groove develops. There is less of the exotic and a more traditional feeling to this piece with a plaintive feel and a marked sense of introspection. The independence of the parts and the formality of the structure combine in Votek’s elegant and mature style. The ensemble playing is solidly skillful and always expressive. The tempo picks up about midway through and a bit of tension creeps in, especially in the violins and then the cellos. The pace gradually increases towards the finish, bordering on the anxious, until a sudden slowing returns to a solemn and almost sorrowful courtliness at the end. Fossil Dance is a refined and artful exposition of the emotional potential inherent in string music, masterfully performed.

The third track, Migration of the Fires, begins with a series of long, languid phrases and graceful harmonies. The rich timbre and dignified ambiance soon morphs into independent parts, each spinning actively in and out as the tempo gradually increases. The phrases have movement in the cellos while the violins hold lightly sustained tones above. This is all very deliberate and under control, even as the pace increases. About midway through, the piece goes from a trot to a canter and this adds a touch of anxiety. The playing is always disciplined and very precise with fast running phrases and strong bowing. By 9:00 everything slows again, as if out of breath. There is a much slower tempo now, with long sustained tones as the piece quietly fades to a finish. Migration of the Fires exhibits the same mature style and wide range of expression heard in Fossil Dance and is equally enchanting.

The final piece on the album is Bhimpalasi – Chota Khyal . Chris Votek, on cello, is joined by Neelamjit Dhillon on tabla performing this “traditional Hindustani raga in the singing style – gayaki-ang.” A low drone sound sets the foundation as the cello enters with a strong intonation in its very lowest register, almost as a growl. Even at this depth and slow tempo the phrasing is noticeably lyrical, if somewhat somber. At 4:40 the tabla enters with a welcome beat that lightens the mood and soon generates a pleasant, ambling groove. The style of this piece is consistent throughout but the details constantly change and evolve. The deep tones magnify the sense of singing that is heard in the cello melody and this seeming contrast holds the listener’s attention. At 11:40 the tempo picks up a bit and the cello is ‘singing’ more in a middle register with faster and plaintive phrases. A repeating theme soon appears in the cello and serves as a departure point for improvised variations. Towards the finish, the tempo increases again as the notes pour smoothly out of the cello and the tabla provides a solid rhythmic framework. Votek’s command of the cello is impressive and the coordination with the percussion is seamless. Bhimpalasi is clearly a traditional Indian form, but the expressive playing in the cello makes it more accessible to the Western ear – the kind of music you wish would last longer.

The artistic vision of Chris Votek for Memories of a Shadow succeeds with its unusual combination of classic Indian ragas mixed with contemporary forms, an unconventional string ensemble and a high technical level of performance.


Performance Personnel:

Andrew Tholl, violin
Adrianne Pope, violin
Ben Bartelt, viola
Derek Stein, cello
Chris Votek, cello

Neelamjit Dhillon, tabla (Bhimpalasi)


Memories of a Shadow is available from Microfest Records and as a digital download at Amazon Music.




by Paul Muller
Cello, Contemporary Classical, New York

Crossing the Threshold: Thomas Demenga at Weill Recital Hall


(Photo credit: Ismael Lorenzo)

In the presence of Thomas Demenga, there’s no such thing as a solo concert, for one considers not only the unrepeatable coincidence of performer and instrument but also the composers whose creations bond them. Such fullness of vision was already evident in 1987, when the Swiss cellist began pairing J. S. Bach’s unaccompanied cello suites with contemporary counterparts in a flight of albums for ECM New Series. The first of these viewed the Suite No. 4 through a lens crafted of Heinz Holliger’s chamber pieces, thus setting precedent for a compelling traversal of deciduous and coniferous music. Two composers engaged along the way in the studio—Elliott Carter and Bernd Alois Zimmermann—tangled roots on stage with Bach’s first and third suites for an April 23, 2018 recital at Weill Recital Hall in New York City.

Demenga’s approach to the suites was by turns monochromatic and fiercely colorful. He elicited both suites without a score, Bach’s eternal relevance as ingrained as the striations of the older cello on which he channeled it. He was careful to sand off anticipated peaks and finesse the deeper digs, lest we forget the ways in which Bach’s suites dialogue with themselves, all the while maintaining an underlying spirit of the dance (especially in No. 3’s foot-stomping gigue). In addition to its robust fluidity, his bow was constantly toeing, and at times joyfully crossing, the sul tasto threshold. This allowed natural harmonics and incidental whispers of the strings to bleed through as a veritable sonic fingerprint of the performance. Most impressive was his handling of each allemande, by which he stretched an indestructible suspension bridge from préludeto courante.

Between the pillars of Bach stood the statue of Zimmermann, whose 1960 Sonata for Solo Cello (originally paired with the Suite No. 2 in Demenga’s 1996 album for ECM) was a highlight of the evening—not only for its technical difficulties but also for its sheer musicality. Said difficulties were rendered wondrously in Demenga’s handling. The trembling with which the five-movement sonata opened revealed one mosaic of microtonal transference after another, while deft alternations of pizzicato and arco statements underscored a contrapuntal whimsy. Zimmermann’s score further revealed the same multifaceted understanding of notecraft that Demenga drew out in his Bach interpretations. Carter’s Figment for Solo Cello (1994), a piece written for its performer, likewise opened the concert with a strangely cohesive mélange of lyricism and punctuation. Every gesture was the start of a potential journey. As with much of Carter’s late output, a feeling of inner momentum abounded. Like the arpeggiated etude of Jean-Louis Duport with which Demenga encored, it was a testament to the asymptotic nature of artistic growth.

Such proximities bolded the forward-looking reach of Bach’s music as well as the foundational seeds over which Carter and Zimmermann poured their grateful waters. This reciprocation lent a sense of interconnectedness, of downright genetic heritage, to the sounds, proving that it takes more than a bow and fine muscle memory to extract the beauty therein, but a heart animating it all with genuine love by which each note is released as a messenger into the next continent of time.

by Tyran Grillo