CD Review, Chamber Music, Contemporary Classical, File Under?, Strings

Gerald Cohen – Voyagers (CD Review)

 

Gerald Cohen

Voyagers

Innova Records

 

One can think of few chamber ensembles better suited to contemporary music than the Cassatt String Quartet. Their intonation, musicality, and interpretive powers are superlative. Composer Gerald Cohen has enlisted them to record three of his pieces on Innova, two originally commissioned for Cassatt. 

 

Cohen describes himself as a storyteller, both in his vocal and instrumental music. The three distinct narratives here are populated by musical quotations relevant to them, yet they never seem like pastiche. The title work is about the two Voyager spacecrafts, which were sent out into our solar system with a golden record of musical examples. The hope was that they could be played by any extraterrestrials that might be encountered, and give a sense of the cultural life on planet Earth. 

 

The piece is for clarinet – played by Narek Arutyunian –  and quartet. Four attacca movements each transform the material from a different selection on the gold record. “Cavatina” deals with the analogous section from Beethoven’s String Quartet Op. 130. Cohen also imagines it as the beginning of the spacecrafts’ journey. Shadowy harmonies and a limpid high violin line start the movement, which over the course of nine-and-a-half minutes treats Beethoven’s music in a highly individual way. 

 

The second movement, “Bhairavi,” deals with a raga. Arutyunian embodies the complex scalar patterns of the music with nuanced shaping, as do the members of the quartet. The accompaniment is deliberately simple – pizzicato repeated notes. As the movement develops, there is hocketing of the tune between the various players. “Galliard” is the quartet’s Scherzo movement, based on “The Fairy Round” by renaissance composer Anthony Holborne. Scraps of the tune are exchanged contrapuntally in a humorous, whirling dance. “Beyond the Heliosphere” concludes the quartet with sustained pitches in a complex of intricate harmony, a descending melody, sometimes winnowed down to just a minor third interval, passing from part to part. The Cavatina theme, followed by a high note from bass clarinet, send the Voyagers continuing on their journey.

 

Playing for Our Lives is a piece for quartet about the Terezin concentration camp, a “show camp” where the Red Cross was allowed admittance to see better conditions than the hellish death camps where prisoners would later be deported. Music-making was encouraged, and many pieces created in Terezin have survived, demonstrating the talent and resiliency of their creators. By far the most famous is Viktor Ullmann, whose opera Der Kaiser von Atlantis has entered the repertory. While in the camp, Ullmann arranged Beryozkele (“Little Birch Tree”), a popular Yiddish song. Cohen uses the song’s melody as a touchstone in the first movement. Other songs that are quoted are Czech, Hebrew, and Yiddish songs. The second movement “Brundibar,” takes as its title that of the children’s opera composed by Hans Krása.” The title of the entire work, Playing for our Lives, is based on a quote by one of the few survivors of the orchestra that played at Brundibar’s premiere, Paul Rabinowitsch, a then 14-year old trumpeter. The adolescent feared playing wrong notes, lest he be deported by the SS for his mistakes.

 

At first I found the last movement’s inclusion of the Dies Irae from Verdi’s Requiem to be curious, but recognized after a few listens that is a response to the SS officers who ran the camp, that they would be called to account for their evil deeds. Cohen’s music embodies the twentieth century neoclassicism and folk influences of the composers at Terezin, all the while presenting an eloquent rejoinder to hate and anti-Semitism.  Thus, it is a timely work. 

 

The recording closes with an unusual ensemble grouping: the Cassatt Quartet is joined by trombonist Colin Williams in a heterogenous quintet, “Preludes and Debka.” Once again, the connection to the present is palpable. A debka is a Middle Eastern circle dance, performed both by Jewish and Arab people at social gatherings, such as weddings. Sometimes the trombone is used for bass pedals, but more often it plays melodies as doublings or in counterpoint. Cohen manages to balance things well so that the trombone doesn’t overwhelm the strings, and Williams plays his solo turns, including a mid-piece cadenza, with supple lyricism. After the cadenza is a long, moody duet between first violin and trombone, a break in the dance rhythms. Gradually, the dance rhythms reinsert themselves into the texture, with an accelerando back into the debka. Apart from a few interjections of the slow central music, it whirls until the piece’s coda, where there is another lyrical interruption, and the dance comes to a jaunty conclusion. 

 

I couldn’t help imagining people from throughout the Middle East’s various faiths coming together and dancing. It seems far away at this writing, but Cohen’s eloquent piece stirred this hope in me. Cohen is a gifted storyteller and an equally formidable composer. The Cassatt Quartet once again prove to be stalwart advocates for contemporary music. Voyagers is one of my favorite releases of 2023.

 

-Christian Carey

CD Review, Contemporary Classical, File Under?, Organ

Anna Lapwood – Luna (CD Review)

 

Luna

Anna Lapwood

Chapel Choir of Pembroke College, Cambridge

Sony Classical

 

At 27, organist Anna Lapwood is a rising star, performing at the BBC Proms and recently being given the RPS Gamechanger Award at The Royal Philharmonic Society Awards. For her latest Sony recording, Luna, Lapwood focuses on transcriptions, a venerable tradition in organ music. Most of the transcriptions are Lapwood’s, and they prove that she knows the possibilities of pipe organs inside and out. Alongside staples of the classical repertoire, the organist plays a number of pieces from popular and film music. The blend of old and new transcriptions, as well as original organ works, creates a varied and attractive program. It celebrates the night sky, in a many-hued rendering.

 

Max Richter is an electronic musician whose work focuses on post-minimal ostinatos. The transcription of his On the Nature of Daylight layers wordless chorus – the Chapel Choir of Pembroke College, Cambridge –  on top of a chaconne in the organ in a sumptuous translation. Minimalism in general sounds great on pipe organ, and transcriptions of Philip Glass’s Mad Rush and Ludovico Einaudi’s Experience sound great here.

 

Film music also makes an impression. “Flying,” from James Newton Howard’s score for Peter Pan, is treated with contrasting stops and buoyant passagework combined with vigorous pedal motives. Dario Marinelli’s “Dawn,” from the score for Pride and Prejudice, employs the decorative chromaticism of the nineteenth century, making it an excellent choice to transcribe in the style of the French organ school.

 

In recent years, there has been a renaissance of the African-American Florence Price’s music. Her “Elf on a Moonbeam,” taken from the composer’s Short Organ Works, begins with incantatory arpeggios, gradually introducing an ascending melody accompanied by gospel-inflected chords. The central section contains puckish staccato harmonies, followed by a whole-tone transition that leads back to the gospel passage to conclude. Perhaps at some point Lapwood will record Price’s whole collection; Elf on a Moonbeam makes it seem promising.

 

“Grain Moon” by Olivia Belli is a mysterious, modally-inflected piece for which Lapwood employs the great variety of flute stops at her disposal. “Dreamland,” by Kristina Arakelyan, is filled with diaphanous textures and flowing arpeggios. Ghislaine Reece-Trapp’s “In Paradisum” contains several attractive melodies, and Lapwood distinguishes each with a different registration, providing a listening tour of the chapel organ at the Royal Hospital School, built in 1993 by Hill, Norman, and Beard.

 

My favorite piece on the recording is Ēriks Ešenvalds’s “Stars,” on which Lapwood again directs the Chapel Choir of Pembroke College, Cambridge. A work in the polychordal style, it contains stacked ascending entries and wide dynamic swells. The accompaniment is subtle, but includes a single-note refrain that distinguishes it from a merely supportive role. Ešenvalds is one of the most talented composers working today, and the choir does sterling work with the piece.

 

Popular classics, the Bach/Gounod Ave Maria, Chopin’s Nocturne No. 2 in E-flat Major, and, to close the album, a version of Debussy’s Clair de Lune, are all given sensitive performances. Lapwood is a gifted organist, and Arc also shares with us her talents as transcriber and choral conductor. It is one of my favorite recordings of 2023.

 

-Christian Carey



CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Electro-Acoustic, File Under?

Steve Lehman and Orchestre National de Jazz (CD Review)

Steve Lehman and Orchestre National de Jazz

Ex Machina

Pi Recordings

 

Saxophonist Steve Lehman not only has chops as a jazz musician, he is a trained composer with a background in electronics. Ex Machina is his most ambitious project to date, with electronics developed at the premiere new music center IRCAM in Paris. They respond live in performance to the spectral harmonies and polyrhythms made by the orchestra. While live electronics have been emanating from IRCAM for some time, Lehman’s electronics are neatly incorporated into both composed and improvised textures.

 

The first track “39” contains a solo by Lehman that strides the boundaries of inside and outside. Indeed much of the music here refuses to be easily categorized. While there are bespoke elements and post-tonal verticals, there are also soloists that swing and passagework that couldn’t have existed without big bands past.

 

The motoric plays a role as well. In “Los Angeles Imaginary,” one can hear the fracas of the freeways in polyrhythmic ostinatos from the rhythm section, while electronics and the horn section supply car horns and bleary trumpets a sliver of noir. “Chimera” is more mysterious, with pitched percussion mixing with gong-like electronics. Morse code percussion and repeated notes from the saxophones and trumpets succeed this, once more dealing with rhythmic layering. A florid vibes solo is the tune’s centerpiece. 

 

“Jeux D’Anches” has repeated harmonic cells and furious drumming, over which a soaring trumpet solo and another vibes solo, after which the sections undertake the chordal repetitions, with a tuba alongside in off-kilter fashion. Before moving into a swelling jazz band section, “Les Treize Soleils” opens with a hat tip to Boulez, flute and electronics creating a modernist environment. Similarly, “Alchimie” juxtaposes modern classical gestures with a swinging backbeat.

 

Two long-form suites, “Speed-Freeze Parts 1 and 2” and “Le Seuil Parts 1 and 2” are Ex Machina’s culmination. The first opens with a slow repeated series of pitches in a small collection of instruments, Lehman’s saxophone among them, with vibrato prevalent. Quick-silver passages are juxtaposed with the slow material, with disjunct solos gradually accumulating, including an extended one for trombone. A Zappa-esque coda finishes the first part. The second part exudes funkiness from the band alongside another set of pitched percussion interjections. A baritone saxophone solo starts low and then uses pitch bends and squalls at its peak, joined by Lehman to trade licks. The tenor saxophonist then stretches out, playing exuberantly over off-kilter rhythms and chordal horn sections. Lehman’s solo concludes with caterwauling and nimble alternate scales. The various sections alternate quick repetitions, interrupted by the spacious pitched percussion interludes of the first part. Once again, low brass takes over the foreground, continuing to be juxtaposed with the percussion ostinato and repeated brass chords. The flutes return, descending in chromatic runs until subsumed by low brass and repeated vibraphone clangs.

 

“Le Seuil” begins with long electronic tones interrupted by splashy brass. Glissandos appear, only to have fortissimo brass provide a rejoinder. Clusters in the piano are repeated over sustained bass drones and haloed by electronics and microtonal horn lines. A loping trombone solo is swiftly interrupted by a slice of the full band. The music slides into a mystifying demeanor, one that mirrors the opening of “Speed-Freeze.” Single vibraphone notes and recessed wind chords are accompanied by extensive electronic punctuations. A trumpet call announces the end of the section. Part two begins with shimmering electronics, a thrumming bass line, a second ostinato in the piano, and an aggressive trombone solo. Chordal crescendos buoy the trombone’s closing gestures, and then angular counterpoint and a cascade of synth sounds take over, with the inexorable bass line continuing to pulsate, then sustain. Combined harmonies from electronics and the ensemble swirl into a brief denouement.

 

Lehman’s art combines the most sophisticated means, notable in terms of its harmonic construction, sophisticated rhythms, and employment of technology. In an excellent collaboration, Orchestre National de Jazz meets every challenge he poses. Ex Machina is one of my favorite releases of 2023.

 

-Christian Carey

 

CD Review, Choral Music, early music, File Under?

Brabant Ensemble Sings Guerrero (CD Review)

Guerrero: Missa Ecce Sacerdos Magnus, Magnificat, and Motets

Brabant Ensemble, directed by Stephen Rice

Hyperion

 

The Spanish Renaissance composer Francisco Guerrero (1528-1599) does not have the profile or deep discography he deserves. Brabant Ensemble, directed by Stephen Rice, seek to raise the former and enhance the latter with Missa Ecce Sacerdos Magnus, Magnificat, and Motets, a Hyperion CD of pieces by Guerrero that have not previously been recorded. While hearing them is past due, it is welcome all the same.

 

The ensemble has an exquisite blend, doubtless helped in part by being populated by performers who also collaborate together in other ensembles, notably the Ashby sisters (Stile Antico). Rice selects tempos that are measured, never rushed, resulting in clarity of textual utterance. Contrapuntal entrances are seamlessly coordinated.

 

The motets are artfully crafted. Gaude Barbara features diverse smaller groupings of the ensemble, with lines shifting between them, creating a varied texture. It is an effusive opener for the recording. The six-part Simile Est Regnum Caelorum is similarly jubilant, juxtaposing homophonic and polyphonic entrances, with frequent cadential elisions.

 

Quomodo Cantabimus Canticum Domini, on the other hand, uses lines from Psalm 137, one of the most wrenching of those lamenting the Babylonian captivity. Here, the upper voices move through a plangent harmonic sequence, the basses held back until the words “In a strange land.” The staggering of entrances creates a feeling of isolation and confusion, which fits the words perfectly. Ductus est Jesus, a setting of the text of Jesus’s temptations in the wilderness, nearly steps out of the Renaissance frame in its theatricality of utterance, with dramatic depictions of Satan’s suggestions and resolute rejoinders from Christ. O Crux Splendidior is doleful yet dignified, with melancholy harmony supported by flowing lines.

 

Missa Ecce Sacerdos Magnus is a five-voice (the altos divisi throughout) cantus firmus mass. In addition to melodic material from the chant’s incorporation, the chant text is sung at times by some of the parts instead of the text of the Ordinary of the mass. Depicting the “great priest” in a text primarily from Ecclisiastes, the chant is a clear reference to Christ and also to its dedicatee, Pope Gregory VIII.

 

The Kyrie manages some rhythmic shaping to accommodate the entire chant melody. Free material against it includes a soaring soprano line, which then descends in a quarter note sequence imitated in the tenor and bass voices. The Gloria is one of the first sections of a piece on the recording in which homophony and paired question and answer phrases dominate, rendering the text compactly. The Credo, on the other hand, is an expansive rendering that takes its time with the various textual allusions. My favorite movement is the Sanctus – Benedictus, which contains a brilliant, canonic Osanna that is performed gloriously by the Brabant Ensemble. The luminous Agnus Dei returns to the chant text and expands to six voices. Canonic entries and rhythmic variations allow for considerable pliancy, with a vibrant soprano line leading the mass to an extended final cadence.

 

A second set of motets reveals the variety of approaches that Guerrero adopted. Peccantem Me Quotidie is even just as  emotive as Ductus est Jesus, depicting a penitent’s fear of Hell and implorations for mercy. The five-voice Beatus Es Et Bene Tibi Erit is a compact setting with an effusive closing section. Quae Es Iste Tam Formosa is an early work, with paired entrances reminiscent of earlier composers and considerable dissonance in its second part. Even though these techniques would be dispensed with in Guerrero’s later music, the motet is well-constructed and attractive. 

 

Magnificat Secundi Toni is an alternatim setting for four voices, with the sopranos dividing in the last verse to reinforce the sonority. The chant verses are used as material for the polyphonic sections, making the Magnificat an economical setting that, like the most contrapuntal sections of the mass, demonstrates Guerrero’s mastery of technique. 

 

The Brabant Ensemble are extraordinary advocates. Hopefully, the pieces programmed here will gain wider currency.

 

-Christian Carey

 

Ambient, CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music

greyfade – LP2

LP2 is a newly-released album from the greyfade recording label that consists of electronic, vocal and instrumental sounds woven into a rare and beautiful ambient tapestry. Available in vinyl LP and digital download formats, LP2 is an inspired collaboration between vocalist Theo Bleckmann and electronic musician Joseph Branciforte. More than just a series of tracks, LP2 is intended as “…a complete conceptual universe – a synthesis of sound, compositional architecture, design and text worthy of sustained engagement.” Several years in the making, LP2 is a natural extension of greyfade’s acclaimed ambient album LP1 from 2019.

Joseph Branciforte, the founder of the greyfade record label and a Grammy Award-winner, has extensive experience as a recording engineer as well as process-based composition, electronic and acoustic minimalism. Theo Bleckmann, a vocalist twice nominated for a Grammy, “…makes music that is accessibly sophisticated, unsentimentally emotional, and seriously playful…” In many ways, the structure of the pieces in the album amount to Branciforte and Bleckmann working seamlessly as a single artist. Their combined talents have resulted in LP2, an album that explores the relationship between the otherworldly and the familiar.

The first track is 1.13 and was originally recorded as part of the sessions for LP1 back in 2018, but was left off that album. This track thus forms a natural connection between the two. 1.13 opens with low sustained string tones, as if the distant roar of some large motor. Soft vocals enter, long tones without words. Occasional chimes add a solemn feeling to an otherwise restful and serene ambiance. The skillful mix of these elements create an even and pleasant texture. As the piece proceeds, the parts slowly fade away, thinning out the lovely sounds and reducing the dynamics. 1.13 glides to a placid landing, the contented essence of soothing tranquility.

Some of the pieces on this CD are short ,at just a minute or two, much like sonic samplers. 10.11.5, the second track, Opens with a soft electronic beeping, soon joined by sustained voices. There is a gentle feel to this and a slightly alien feel, although never intimidating. 10.14.4, track 4, is similar with somewhat stronger beeping and a faster tempo. Voices in harmony sing short notes in syncopated counterpoint over a lovely sustained tone. A mechanical clicking adds just a touch of urgency to this piece.

10.17.13, track 7, opens with a variety of electronic and metallic sounds along with a touch of mystery in the vocal parts. There is a stronger alien feel to this, but never menacing. The volume builds, cresting to add a bit of tension, but soon fades away. 8.11, track 5, is slightly longer at 3 minutes and begins with solitary metallic tones, heard singly or a few at a time. Sustained voices appear in the background with percussive sounds and occasional musical tones dominating. A restful feel to this even as the metallic sounds contribute an alien flavor. Overall, these pieces straddle the line between the warmly welcoming and the otherworldly.

7.21, track 6, takes this idea a bit further with a duration slightly longer than 7 minutes. Light bell chiming sounds open and are followed by flute entrance with long tones in low register. Quiet vocals, in same general register as the flute, add a distinctly human element. There is a soothing and gentle feel to this that is complimented by a steady drone and the subdued electronic sounds. The vocals occasionally soar above the texture beautifully evoking a gentle and introspective atmosphere.

11.15, track 3, is one of the longer pieces at 10:12 and has perhaps the most complex blend of sounds. Deep single bass tones in the opening repeat a three note phrase. A languid voice enters, repeating a simple melodic phrase without words Bells and other electronics now in the texture and a male voice enters in counter melody. There is some complexity to the texture but always simple and lovely. Some sustained instrumental tones enter with a halting, somewhat mechanical feel. There is a beautiful blending of the electronic, instrumental and vocal sounds so that all the elements combine well together. Towards the finish, the voices become more rhythmically active and increase their dynamics to dominate. 11.15 combines all its various elements to create a lovely sound that just keeps flowing along until quietly fading at the finish.

9.23, track 8, concludes the album. Soft voices open with a scratching, mechanical timbre followed by electronic musical tones, distant and cool, with strong sustained notes. This produces a slightly menacing, but mysterious feel. Now long sustained vocal tones, sounding almost as screams, arc over the softer texture. The declarative style of the vocals dominate and there is a sense of tension here, more so than the other pieces on this album. Bell tones appear and the mix of sounds seems to be gradually changing. A more intentional feel develops, and this final piece is no benign ambient wash. At the finish, the sounds slowly fade out in a rhythmic cycle leaving only a light static. 9.23 is perhaps the most calculating piece of the album: warm, yet distant – congenial, yet remote. The listener is invited to decide what this music is communicating about the “…boundaries between improvisation & composition, live performance & studio production, human & machine-generated sound.”

LP2 invites the listener to consider the mix of the alien and the welcoming in the sounds. Each piece contains these elements in slightly different proportions, and the listener must decide if this constitutes a threat or reassurance. Joseph Branciforte is a Grammy Award-winner for sound engineering and his skills on this album deserve special mention. The variety the sounds heard on LP2 often send out conflicting emotions in a way that outweighs their sonic presence. The mixing and mastering here are extraordinary in that there is a cohesive and balanced fabric that frames these unusual sonic textures. The clarity delivered by LP2 provides the listener with a new level of precision for the evaluation of unique sounds and unusual combinations.

LP2 is available from the greyfade record label directly.

CD Review, File Under?, Piano

Bruce Liu – Waves (CD Review)

 

Bruce Liu

Waves

Deutsche Grammophon

 

At twenty-six years of age, pianist Bruce Liu has already received much acclaim, most prominently by winning the Chopin Competition. His recital disc, Waves, released on Deutsche Grammophon, could easily have been a selection of familiar finger busters from the center of the classical repertoire and been quite popular. Instead, it is a program of French composers: Jean-Phillippe Rameau, Maurice Ravel, and Charles-Valentine Alkan. 

 

Liu’s Rameau performances take into account the resonance of a modern grand piano, but his tempos, phrasing, and ornaments are well-informed by historical performance practice. The rondeau was a specialty of Rameau’s, and two from his third volume of pieces for harpsichord, Les tendres plaintes and Les Cyclopes, are intricate in their motivic development. Liu’s rendition of the Gavotte and six Doubles from Nouvelle suites de pièces de clavecin, RTC 5, creates an exciting buildup from the doubles. Les sauvages is played with particular dexterity, while the Minuets from RT6 display a jaunty suavity. From the same volume, La Poule serves as an incisive close to the album.

 

Miroirs, by Ravel, is the highlight of the recording. Liu’s keen understanding of the varied moods and timbral hues of Ravel’s music, such as the rolling waves of Une barque sur l’océan, the off-kilter rhythms and jocularity of Alborada del gracioso, and the beautiful bell tones summoned in La vallée des cloches, displays significant depth of interpretive powers. The suite’s virtuosic demands include nimble passages, challenging pedaling, and detailed balance requirements. The pianist conquers all of these in an emotive rendering that is a distinctive addition to recorded outings of Miroirs. 

 

Alkan’s music is not as well known as the other two composers, but the championing of his work by Liu may introduce it to a number of listeners. The Barcarolle from Recueil des chants has a mysterious character. Among the several harmonic twists and turns is a propensity for the flatted-seventh of the mixolydian mode. If this miniature serves as an amuse-bouche, the other Alkan piece on the recording is a seven-course dinner: 12 Etudes in All the Minor Keys, Op. 39, no. 12, le festin D’Ésope. A theme with twenty-five variations, it is stunningly challenging, and also quite diverse in the moods and techniques displayed as the piece progresses. In places there is Lisztian virtuosity, elsewhere dissonant treatment of the theme with crunching seconds alongside it that seems to presage the work of Busoni. When Variation 25 concludes, the listener will likely be exhilarated, if slightly exhausted. I can’t even imagine how Liu feels. 

 

The quality of performance and versatility of repertoire make this one of my favorite recordings of 2023.

 

-Christian Carey

 

File Under?, Guitar, jazz

The Sorcerer – Gábor Szabó (LP Review)

The Sorcerer – Gábor Szabó (Impulse)

 

Hungarian guitarist Gábor Szabó performed the music on The Sorcerer in 1967 at the Jazz Workshop, Boston. His first live recording as a leader, Szabó is joined by guitarist Jimmy Stewart, bassist Louis Kabok, percussionist Hal Gordon, and drummer Marty Morrell. Szabó plays a diverse array of originals, standards, and even a pop tune by Sonny Buono. 

 

It’s fair to say that not many jazz artists have recorded “The Beat Goes On,” but here it is stripped of its sentimental associations, with the emphasis being instead on its backbeat and effusive duo guitar solos. The pairing of Szabó and Stewart is particularly simpatico, with the guitarists trading solos, playing duets, and comping in distinct styles. 

 

“Little Boat” is a samba that gives Gordon and Morrell the opportunity to create a duet of their own, with energetic, overlapping polyrhythms. “Lou-ise” by Stewart embodies Latin rhythms of a gentler variety and is a great showcase for the guitarist. Cole Porter’s “What is This Thing Called Love” begins with a dovetailing guitar duet followed by a buoyant solo by Szabó. Another duet, and Stewart takes a turn. All the time, the rhythm section is bolstering them with a stronger backbeat than one usually hears in performances of standards: rockin’ and rollin’ with Cole. The guitarists trade fours with Morrell, and then bring a bifurcated version of the tune back to close. 

 

Szabó’s “Space” incorporates inflections from Hungarian music as well as swelling sustained guitar notes. The syncopated beats of folk dancing played by Szabó in modal and harmonic minor scales, Gordon’s triangle and cymbals, and repeated harmonies from Stewart combine in the most imaginative arrangement on The Sorcerer. The lilting Parisian ambience of “Stronger Than Us,” by Francis Lai and Pierre Barough, wafts through a circle fifths progression that is ready fodder for soloing.

 

“Mizrab,” by Szabó, refers to the type of plectrum used on some Iranian and Indian instruments. Once again, the guitarist channels melodic patterns and rhythmic grooves of a different culture, his playing reminiscent of ragas, with Gordon undertaking a rendition of traditional tabla playing. The seven-minute piece is the most developed of any on the album. In an extended closing section, a decrescendo yields to sustained tones and a subdued version of the tune. “Comin’ Back,” a brief rock ‘n’ roll chorus by Clyde Otis and Szabó serves as a rollicking coda to the date.

 

The quality of the mix is excellent, as are the original liner notes and artwork. It is one of my favorite recordings of 2023.

 

-Christian Carey



CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Experimental Music, File Under?, Vocals

What of Words and What of Song – Juliet Fraser on Neos (CD Review)

 

 

What of Words and What of Song

Juliet Fraser, vocalist

With Mikael Rudolfsson, trombone, Helen Bledsoe, bass flute, and Uli Fussenegger, double bass

NEOS Music 

 

Soprano Juliet Fraser is one of very few performers who could successfully present the challenging program on What of Words and What of Song (NEOS Music). It consists of works by European composers born in the 1950s and 1960s: Rebecca Saunders, Enno Poppe, Beat Furrer, and Chaya Chernowin. Fraser doesn’t just sing them, she inhabits the pieces with encompassing dramatic commitment. 

 

“O,” by Rebecca Saunders, features swooping glissandos and breath slides, alongside untexted sections that not only include vowels, but lip and throat trills, gasps, quick-rendered gibberish, overtones, and throat singing. Fraser makes these seemingly incongruous elements cohere into an expressive presentation that imparts a dramatic shape despite lacking a perceptible text. It ends with an ascending glissando that suggests a question mark. O Yes and I, also by Saunders, is a successor to O, in which its material is repurposed for a duet with bass flute, here played by Helen Bledsoe. Bledsoe is a worthy collaborator, mimicking Fraser and alternatively serving as a foil. She also has impressive control with the instrument, playing securely in a wide dynamic range with stentorian attacks that can be challenging on this large member of the flute family.

Enno Poppe’s Wespe (“Wasp”) uses undulating pitches to describe the insect’s path. Gradually, consonants are added and additional motives suggest a wasp lighting from place to place, occasionally buffeted by the wind. It is subtle in its programmatic use of vocalise, but the result is beguiling 

 

Trombonist Mikael Rudolfsson joins Fraser for Spazio Immergente I (“Immersive Space”) by Beat Furrer. Muted trombone lines swoop around swelling high notes from Fraser. The soprano then sings repetitions that mirror the gestures in the trombone. The mute comes off, and there is a more competitive stance between the performers and a role reversal, the trombone undertaking swells while Fraser performs digressive riffs. Eventually, the two are joined in performing long glissandos, Fraser arriving at some of her highest notes as Rudolfsson then undertakes low pedal tones. A coda replete with staccato culminates with a flurry of fortissimo attacks in altissimo gestures from Fraser and glissandos and blats in the bass from Rudolfsson. 

 

Adiantum Capillus-Veneris I (“Maidenhair fern”) is by Chaya Czernowin. Maidenhair ferns are distinctive in their ability to shed rainwater without getting wet. The ferns grow in many places in the world, including Israel, where Czernowin is from and first saw them. The piece is marked,”for voice and air.” The use of exaggerated inhalations and exhalations serves as an extra “voice.” There is a watery ascent of breath at the beginning that is then replaced with sung ascending glissandos, each with pauses for breath. The rate of change gradually speeds up, followed by whooshes and ha’s. Then blowing outward between silences. The watery ascent continues, held at the end each time in emphatic fry. A long breath serves as a transition to the voice’s return to singing ascending glissandos; the two are then juxtaposed. Descending minor thirds add a final motive to the mix. The opening ascent and fry return, and the piece closes in whorls of air. Czernowin has likened Adiantum Capillus-Veneris I to a line drawing or small painting; this is an excellent analogy for the deployment of its detailed material. 

 

The last piece on the recording is Lótofagos I (lotus-eaters) for soprano and double bass by Beat Furrer. Fraser’s collaborator here is Uli Fusseneger, who is a stellar player. Lotus-eaters are people from an episode in Homer’s Odyssey who ate only lotuses, which caused them to forget. Today, the term connotes an indolent pleasure-seeker. The texts, for here words are recognizably employed, are by José Ángel Valente. It is a strange story, rendered with a gradual buildup from cooing to fortissimo keening, and softly rendered tight dissonances and double-stops to full chords on the double-bass. Furrer’s take appears to embody the fear of loss of recognition rather than a sense of peaceful rest. Little shared motives seem to dissolve over the course of the piece; another framing of forgetting, here as oblivion. As the piece goes on, language is lost in places to lip trills and isolated vowels, with the poem seeming to dissolve too. 

 

The four composers here are imaginative in their conceptions of vocalism beyond language. Fraser embodies each of their pieces compellingly, with impressive attention to details of vocal, musical, and expressive elements. What of Words and What of Song is one of my favorite releases I have encountered in 2023.

 

-Christian Carey

 

CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Microfest Records – Flotsam and Jetsam

Flotsam & Jetsam is a new release by Microfest Records that features pieces by three contemporary composers. Altromondo (2013-15, rev. 2018), by Kurt Rohde, consists of ten tracks as performed by Genevieve Feiwen Lee and Aron Kallay. Titanium (2014), by João Pedro Oliveira, is performed by the piano duo of Vicki Ray and Aron Kallay, Nothing hidden that will not be revealed (2007, rev. 2019), by Alan Shockley, is also performed by Kallay. These pieces are comprised mostly of piano music although there are many extended techniques as well as other unusual instruments included. The album is sub-titled “Music for Piano and Assorted Accoutrements” and as a result, each piece has its own distinctive characteristics.

The first piece on the album is Kurt Rohde’s Altromondo, written for piano duo. This proceeds in ten shortish movements of between two and seven minutes each. In addition to playing extended techniques on the prepared piano, the performers are also called upon to incorporate sounds from a variety of items such as the melodica, harmonica, Chinese paper accordions, triangles and antique cymbals. The inspiration of the piece is roughly nautical, with movements such as “flotsam”, “jetsam” and “derelict”. The music has an unconventional and otherworldly texture that is constantly shifting, coalescing, scattering and then reassembling itself as it flows along. The album notes for the final movement serves to summarize the entire structure of Altromondo: “All things are an assembly of parts; even the parts have parts, moving or still, adding up to a whole, breaking down further to the breakably small.”

The first movement of Altromondo is “piano…piano [homonym]” and this acts as an introduction to the entire piece. Light bell tones ring out, quietly accompanied by a repeating two note line from the melodica. Mysterious phrases now emanate from the melodica, dominating the texture. Rising scales, disjointed rhythms and independent lines evolve into what sounds like a chattering conversation. A short silence is followed by a renewal of the bell tones and a more solemn melody line. The piano enters with aggressive rhythms that disrupt the restful feeling and build to a sudden ending. The contrast between the bell tones, melodica and piano create a distinctive texture that seems to oscillate between the abstract and the conventional. Genevieve Feiwen Lee and Aron Kallay establish an effective foundation for the diverse combinations later heard throughout the entire piece.

“Flotsam” and “Jetsam”, title tracks for the album, are two of the shorter movements in Altromondo and are most directly inspired by the nautical theme. Jetsam refers to material thrown overboard from a ship that is sinking or struggling in heavy seas. This movement begins with strong piano chords in the middle registers, perhaps signifying some distress. There are syncopated melodic notes accompanied by single notes that arc above, bringing a mysterious and introspective feel. Rapid rhythms and descending scales cascade into a gentle harmony at the finish. “Jetsam” evokes the panic and drama of lightening the load when facing disaster. “Flotsam” illustrates the consequences of debris seen scattered across the water. Straightforward chords in conventional harmony open, but now stern, declarative chords add a certain tension. The presence of flotsam indicates a state of maritime disorder, and the rhythms become increasingly disorganized and jumpy to the unsettled finish. All of this is expressively played with a stylish and engaging flair.

Other movements are playfully off the maritime theme. “aside: Let Me Play With Your Poodle”, the fifth movement, opens with a strong piano chord and uptempo ‘fanfare’ passage. Complex independent passages in various registers provide an intricate, yet stylish sound, reminiscent of 1930s dance music. The third movement, “aside the side I” opens with soft repeating phrases in middle/high register with intriguing harmony. The lovely feel to this interrupted suddenly by strong, deep chord. This is more introspective than the other movements and described as ‘Himmelmusik’ in the album notes. Movement 7, “aside the side II” expands on this. Other tracks on the album are similarly surprising and imaginative.

Masterfully performed by Genevieve Feiwen Lee and Aron Kallay, Altromondo presents a wonderful assemblage of musical sounds not often heard together, creating new textures and nuances that stimulate the imagination in unexpected ways.

The second piece on the album is Titanium by João Pedro Oliveira, performed by the piano duo of Vicki Ray and Aron Kallay. One of four works by Oliveira inspired by the earthly elements and, more specifically, the Greek gods of strength, Titanium is full of rapid bursts of abstract phrases that create a mysterious and slightly ominous atmosphere. There is an excellent mix of low rumbling in the piano with light percussion riding above. All of this is played with careful attention to precision, and while complex, it is never overwhelming. An inventive mix of sounds, it is space-like at times with a slightly alien feel. The phrasing changes in some detail but overall this piece has similar structural lines throughout.

At 9:00 the tempo slows and the texture thins out with short stretches of silence between the passages. Still mysterious but now more transparent as the layering of sounds is somewhat reduced. The feeling is more distant and remote as a series of sharp piano chords build to the finish. Titanium is a nicely balanced mixture of the abstract and the accessible, skillfully realized by the Ray-Kallay duo.

The final work, Nothing hidden that will not be revealed, by Alan Shockley is 25 minutes in duration and the longest piece of the album. A great variety of sounds and expressions are heard in this piece, all exquisitely played by Aron Kallay. Dramatic and mysterious, the piece was Inspired by Buddhist themes and sayings from the Gnostic gospels. Alan Shockley writes that “This is a piece about the sounds behind the sounds being actuated by the player’s hands on the keys. Every sound is connected to other sounds, resonances, ghosts, and sympathetic vibrations.”

Nothing hidden … begins with a quiet opening chord, distant and remote. Short, rapid phrases repeat in middle piano registers. A low rumble is heard, followed by meandering passages and angry pounding. The mysterious feel to this is enhanced by contentious passages that vary in tempo and dynamic. The piece proceeds, shifting back and forth between quiet, single notes and louder, ponderous sounds. Kallay strums on the piano strings, adding a distinctly alien element. There are great contrasts throughout, reflecting an almost bipolar character. Nothing hidden … is pensive at times, as if waiting to spring on the listener.

At 10:45 a great cluster chord booms out like a sudden explosion. In contrast, soft conventional chords soon appear, interspersed with various extended techniques. Quieter cluster chords are heard like distant thunder. The audio engineering on this piece is exceptional – the nuances of all the many unconventional sounds are clearly heard. At 15:45 a hymn melody is heard with some baroque ornamentation – a welcome bit of familiarity. Sharply dynamic chords follow, sounding like lightning strikes along with distant rumbles in the lower registers. A series of repeating single low notes sound like a the striking of a clock tower. The piece slows and fades towards its finish, as if winding down. Nothing hidden that will not be revealed skillfully weaves a great variety of sounds and textures from the piano, all masterfully played by Aron Kallay.

Flotsam & Jetsam delivers a vibrant palette of colors and textures that expand the expressive possibilities of contemporary piano music beyond the conventional.

Flotsam & Jetsam is available directly as a digital download from Microfest Records.

CD Review, Experimental Music, File Under?

Jessica Pavone – Clamor (CD Review)

Jessica Pavone

Clamor

Out of Your Head Records

 

Violist Jessica Pavone has made a detailed study of microtones, excelling as well at techniques such as harmonics, bow pressure, and multi-stops. Clamor, her latest recording for Out of Your Head Records, combines all of these in four extended solo works.

 

As the title of the recording suggests, there is a fair amount of dissonance and noise. Not so on the first track, “Neolttwigi,” in which sumptuous multi-stops, modal melodies, and the exploration of multiple overtone series combine in one of Pavone’s most memorable compositions to date.

 

“Nu Shu,” split into Parts 1 and 2, is an exuberant celebration of noise, with the aforementioned pitched components saturated with dissonance and unpitched string sounds, bow pressure chief among them. Pressed harmonics are redolent with upper partials. Pavone frequently plays them in the piece. When fleet melodies take over, they too are distorted, at times sounding more like electric guitar than viola. Tapping and scratching various places on the viola yields percussive effects. A held bass note with ascending glissandos is a reverberant refrain. While much of this suite explores noise, not all of it is loud. One of the best passages is a soft presentation of scratchiness alongside descending glissandos and repeated notes. Its finale, however, is filled with exuberant yawping fortissimos.

 

The final track is “Bloom,” on which Pavone explores the language of folk music in a doleful, Celtic-sounding, opening tune. Ornamented with filigree and supported by a drone in the bass, it once again returns Pavone’s music to a more pitch-based palette. A squall of semitones interrupts the reverie, but the drone and tune soon return. Multi-stops and a placid ostinato then undergird high harmonics. Repeated notes animate the tune, but this is contravened by the persistent stillness of the rest of the texture. Swelling modal harmonies, once again capped off by dissonant verticals, provide a fascinating interlude that soon is interrupted by the opening drone and slower oscillations. As “Bloom” moves toward its conclusion, dissonances are juxtaposed against a different drone. At the height of the intensity, modal chords commingle with the more fraught elements, imparting a diverse sense of harmonic movement. “Bloom” ends enigmatically, on an accented, dissonant, high chord.

 

Pavone has distinguished herself as a talented soloist (and collaborator) and a dedicated investigator of extended materials. Clamor is her best to date, with daring contrasts and  not a note – or scratch – out of place. It is one of my favorite recordings of 2023.

  • Christian Carey