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Kondo: Bonjin & Chamber Music / Ensemble l'Art pour l'Art
What happens if the composer and the listener are the same person? This is exactly what Jo Kondo’s way of composing implies. If the composer is to be nothing but a curious listener, he must be able to surprise himself. He must rid himself of all prior knowledge or intention. Born in Tokyo in 1947, Jo Kondo was influenced throughout his entire education almost exclusively by traditional Western art music. Like so many of his Western colleagues, he feels this to be both a limitation and the greatest challenge to the creative process. “The music one grows up with is like a cage one has to break out of.” The type of improvisation that Jo Kondo employs is only loosely related to improvisation as it is commonly understood. Kondo does not improvise using an instrument, but with music paper, note by note. “I write down the first note, which can be anything, and then I try to listen to it again and again in my head until the second note appears. Then I write it down, and then I listen to these two notes again and again until the third note comes up. And then, repeating this process, I always go back to the top of the music to find the next note. That means that when I have 150 notes already in succession on my paper, I find number 151 by going back to the top of the piece and listening through from the top to the 150th note to find the next note. That’s what I mean by improvisation.” - Jo Kondo All of Jo Kondo’s pieces have been written using this method. The result is a completely linear music that avoids any kind of obvious phrasing, melody, or motivic development, permitting the individual note to retain “its own entity of life”. Since even a musical line can endanger this fragile autonomy, Kondo distributes the notes among the various instrumental parts. This “hocket” technique, which has been used since the thirteenth century, demands enormous rhythmic virtuosity from the performers to avoid disrupting the organic unity of the extremely fragmented line. Thus, there is space left for the listener to create his own phrasing out of it.
Ravel: Miroirs, Gaspard de la nuit & Pavane pour une infante
Histoire Du Tango
Kozeluch: Cantata for the Coronation of Leopold II / Stilec, Prague Symphony
This album is the second release in the Naxos Czech Music Masters from Vienna series, and features the world premiere recording of Kozeluch’s magnificent coronation cantata. The coronation of Leopold II in Prague in 1791 came at a difficult time for European monarchs, although Leopold himself enjoyed a reputation as an enlightened ruler. Two musical works were commissioned for the occasion: Mozart’s opera ‘La clemenza di Tito’ and Kozeluch’s cantata ‘Heil dem Monarchen.’ The cantata, by turns celebratory, serene and darkly dramatic, was well-received and enhanced Kozeluch’s reputation in royal circles. It almost certainly played a part in his appointment in 1792 to the court of Leopold’s son and successor, the last Holy Roman Emperor Franz II.
Schubert: Piano Sonata No. 15 / 13 Variations / Deutscher In
Haydn, M.: Missa Sanctae Ursulae / Mozart, W.A.: Ave Verum C
Mahler: Symphonies Nos. 9 & 10 (Adagio) / Markus Stenz, Cologne Gurzenich Orchestra
Comes: O Pretiosum - Music For The Blessed Sacrament
Schumann: Sonata No 1, Romanze, Humoreske; C. Schumann / Cooper
“Cooper asserts her stylistic credentials right at the start of the disc in Robert’s Humoreske, playing with a warm, golden tone and fluidly finding that distinction between the extrovert and introvert traits that were key to Schumann’s musical personality.” – The Telegraph (UK)
Schumann: Symphonies Nos. 2 and 3
Fiorini: In the Midst of Things - Piano & Chamber Music
Maltese composer Karl Fiorini is a European without frontiers – the compositions in this album reflect his early detachment from a Mediterranean identity towards a more varied and intense sound world. Trio Lamina features elements of Bartók’s ‘night music’ in its complex sub-sections, whereas Fiorini’s two piano studies, which predate his move to Paris, already exude a Gallic ambience. Influenced by North African folk music, the Piano Trio expands his global reach, and the Piano Sonata, a gritty virtuoso concert piece, shifts geographical influence towards Eastern Europe to powerful effect. All of these world première recordings were recorded in the presence of the composer.
REVIEWS:
This program is a shining example of a 21st-century composer who has stepped back from the extremist styles of the mid-late 20th century to re-embrace communication with an audience, but has taken elements from those styles into his own armory.
Karl Fiorini (b. 1979) references Minimalism alongside Lisztian bravura in the first of his Piano Études (2007–08), Middle Eastern syncopation in his 2017 Piano Sonata, and Neoclassical momentum plus Webernian fragmentation in the Trio Lamina (2002).
He draws on the characteristics of recent schools without adhering to their strict rules or specific aims. He knows his instruments, and his chamber music on this showing is bracingly virtuosic. Like other contemporary composers such as Francisco Coll, he has created a strong voice by synthesizing disparate elements so they emerge as subtle flavors, to use a cooking metaphor. (Much 21st-century music resembles modern fusion cuisine.)
The latest work on this program is a quartet, In the Midst of Things (2019), utilizing the same instrumental combination as Messiaen’s Quartet for the End of Time. I think Fiorini deliberately echoes that seminal work in the first movement, which begins with a languorous cello melody accompanied by full, stately chords from the piano, but he soon turns away from it. By the time we reach the closing Presto movement we are in a bustling world of earthy joie de vivre of a type Messiaen never attempted. Again, Eastern rhythms feature.
I greatly enjoyed these examples of Fiorini’s work. He may be an instinctive composer as he claims, but his instinct is clearly based in a solid grounding of acquired knowledge and continual exploration. The sound and performances are excellent. For those interested in new music, this disc is an exciting and not overly demanding example.
-- Fanfare
The early Trio Lamina (2002) for violin, clarinet, and piano sports an arch form and a spooky atmosphere reminiscent of Bartok. The Two Piano Etudes (2008) have a Gallic neo-Impressionism; and the Piano Trio (2005) has echoes of North African folk music in the use of hexachords and modes in retrograde and inversion. The Piano Sonata (2017) is a dense and demanding concert piece inspired by the music of Eastern Europe.
In the Midst of Things (2019) is a four-movement work for clarinet and piano trio that takes a Beethoven-like approach to structure, balancing intricate theory with carefully timed emotion. The performers bring out the best in the scores, rendering them all with marvelous skill, vigor, transparency, and commitment[.]
-- American Record Guide
Brian: Symphonies No 6, 28, 29 & 31 / Walker
Symphonies Nos. 28 and 29 both date from 1967, and both have four movements that play without pause, more or less. No. 28 is only fourteen minutes long in total. Late Brian is an acquired taste, largely because of the music’s relentlessly contrapuntal textures, heavy orchestration with lots of low brass and percussion, and lack of simple repetition to permit listeners to get their bearings. Indeed, these pieces, and the brief, single-movement No. 31 for that matter, sound as though Brian simply chopped off hunks of music from some larger overall blob of material. And yet, the opening of No. 28 has an innocent simplicity of tone and texture that the composer never lost, and all of this music sounds like no one else. That is why it retains its peculiar fascination. It may not be “easy” or “friendly,” but it is distinctive, and the work of a strong musical personality with a definite message.
As with No. 6, the performances under Alexander Walker sound remarkably assured given the unfamiliarity of the material, and they are very well recorded. The Havergal Brian Society and Mr. Godfrey Berry underwrote this production, and they definitely got their money’s worth.
– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
L'organo a Firenze dai Medici all'Unità d'Italia
The 150th anniversary celebrations of Florence, Capital of the Kingdom of Italy (1865-2015) create an opportunity to know and appreciate the voices of the two precious organs preserved in the basilica of San Lorenzo, and the music composed by musicians active in Florence. The organ built by Fratelli Serassi in 1864, with more than 60 registers and three keyboards, is one of the most impressive and unique of its time. The Renaissance-era organ dates to the mid-15th c. The recording features Florentine works from the Renaissance, Classical and Romantic eras, many of which are world premieres.
V 29: MUSICA CLAROMONTANA
Fumagalli: Organ Works
Renewed interest in outstanding Italian organ works of the 19th and 20thc. explains the decision to dedicate recordings to the work of Polibio Fumagalli, a prominent and prolific figure in 19th c. Italy and a link between the old and the new concept of organ construction and composition in Italy. An organ teacher at the Conservatory of Milan (among his students was Marco Enrico Bossi), Fumagalli succeeded in moving from the Italian opera style to the neoclassical, symphonic tendencies of the German and French style. Organist Fabio Re plays the monumental Valenza cathedral Serassi (1852) organ.
Praise And Glory (Music From the Convents On the Luneburg He
Lukaszewski: Musica sacra, Vol. 9
Duos for Violin and Cello
The Heritage Of John Philip Sousa Vol 9 / United States Marine Band
Occurrence - Music of Icelandic Composers Vol. 3 / Bjarnason, Iceland Symphony
“Occurrence is the third, and at least for now the last, in a hugely illuminating series devoted to works by contemporary Icelandic composers, as performed by Iceland’s 70-year-old national orchestra. Speaking for myself – and surely for many others, as well – the series has been a milestone project, one that any conscientious collector of symphonic music simply must have on the shelf. Across three albums now, Sono Luminus has capitalized shrewdly on swelling global interest in the music of Daniel Bjarnason and Anna Thorvaldsdottir, using their works as a means by which to introduce seven more composers with original, substantial voices. Three of the composers represented on Occurrence return from previous installments in the series. In addition to Bjarnson – who also has served as an insightful, sympathetic conductor throughout – we hear new works from Þuri´ður Jonsdottir, whose Flow and Fusion opened the initial disc, Recurrence, and from Haukur Tomasson, whose Piano Concerto No. 2 was a highlight of the second release in the series, Concurrence. These repeat engagements prove serendipitous, showing off fresh facets of these newly familiar creators. One, Bjarnason’s own Violin Concerto, scarcely requires introduction, having proved its merits and attractions already on concert platforms around the globe since its 2017 world premiere at the Hollywood Bowl. Pekka Kuusisto, the violinist for whom the piece was written, demonstrates his consummate skill as a technician, a melodist, a collaborator and – not least – a whistler, and the orchestral accompaniment, no surprise, is vivid and alert.
REVIEW:
‘Recurrence’, ‘Concurrence’, and now ‘Occurrence’. The Iceland Symphony Orchestra’s three-disc survey of new orchestral music from its homeland has reached its end point and it’s easy to conclude that no country on earth has reinvented the language of the symphony orchestra on such distinctive and locally relevant terms as this one. So much so that a Canadian such as Veronique Vaka can fall for Iceland and cook up a piece like Lendh, an extraordinary canvas with an umbilical connection to the landscape of the place. Lendh is a marvel.
Haukur Tómasson’s In Seventh Heaven is full of ear-catching orchestration, as raw and unconventional as Jón Leifs’s, ulterior harmonies tugging while colours shift as rapidly as the Icelandic weather above. The orchestra’s handling of the exposed passages for high strings and characterised woodwind-writing demonstrate technically how far it has come in the past decade alone.
Þuríður Jónsdóttir's Flute Concerto, "Flutter", features sampled insect noises and other electronics, including a promotion of the ubiquitous Nordic pedal note to a general hum. Structurally it feels like a road movie – a journey through textural landscapes more than anything developmental.
Conductor Daníel Bjarnason own Violin Concerto has dedicatee Pekka Kuusisto’s puckish spirit all over it, from the infectious soloist whistling (used to moving effect when it returns late on as the violin’s sole accompanist) to the grunge-improvisatory elements and clear-cut, eyemoistening tune.
As an appendix we hear from a dead composer, Iceland’s great 12-tone pioneer Magnús Blöndal Jóhannsson (1938-2005). His Adagio for strings and percussion of 1980 marked a shift in style following the death of his wife and a battle with the bottle. This is a bleak, translucent elegy that places unison sheets of wannabe-lyrical string melody over held pedal notes and drones, ending with a sudden rush of air as the last pedal falls away. A quizzical gesture to wrap up an outstanding and historic series, one that affects the mind as much as the ears.
– Gramophone
