Manuscripts Don’t Burn is a famous line in Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita – the retelling of Faust, the 20th-century cult novel of an artist surviving in a Totalitarian regime, the love story, the burlesque with giant, vodka-drinking cats, and vampiric theater administrators.

I first read the book as a kid, growing up in Soviet Odesa. I took it with me when my parents and I immigrated, as Jewish refugees running from antisemitism, through Austria and Italy, to the United States. Crossing the border, I worried that guards would discover my book, and I would be severely punished. Throughout the years, the book played a role in my life. My childhood best friend from Odesa reread the book in adulthood and decided to find me - we are now together for 20 years, with two kids. I read the book to my mother as she was dying from brain cancer.

Bulgakov’s novel weaves through my own newly published memoir, Weight in the Fingertips - A Musical Odyssey from Soviet Ukraine to the World Stage (Backbeat Books, October 2023). I consider this very personal recording to be something of a mirror image to my memoir, as it intertwines the literal images from Master and Margarita with more autobiographical themes and layers.

The five premieres, written for me and recorded here, are vastly different in styles and aesthetic. The understated, elegant Master and Margarita Suite by Veronika Krausas complements the wild, theatrical, brooding and extended techniques-filled “Manuscripts Don’t Burn” by Maya Miro Johnson. Mike Garson’s Psalm to Odesa, an improvisatory ballad, with bits of my own improvisation based on a well-known Odesan song, sets off “Voices” by Ljova, a piece for piano and historical recordings of Jewish cantorial and klezmer music. Both take me back to my home city, currently under vicious attack, like the rest of Ukraine. The poetry I recite, sing and hum while performing the four-movement Godai - the Four Elements - is rounded off by the propulsive bravura whirlwind of Hero. Fasil Say’s Black Earth takes the listener on a journey from Odesa across the Black Sea - a Turkish ballad and jazzy beats alternate with improvisatory melisma of a Turkish lute, played on muted strings of the piano. The rarely heard Notturno of Fanny Mendelssohn connects a gifted female voice to the others on this disc, as well as, perhaps, to the dark, impassioned character of Margarita. In Master and Margarita, “Manuscripts Don’t Burn” is spoken by Satan when he retrieves the manuscript of a novel presumed burnt – and in Clarice Assad’s “Godai”, Steve Schroeder’s poem depicts the loss of a manuscript in a fire.

The lieder of Schubert, transcribed for solo piano by Liszt, riffs on the mythical and the Faustian lore found also in Master and Margarita: Gretchen (Margarita) at the spinning wheel, a mystical love story by the sea, a monstrous Elf King and the death of a child, of innocence, of joy - one’s worst fear.

This collection of music speaks to my love of dialogue between music and words. As in my Music/Words series, where I pair poets with musical programs in the form of a recital/reading, the connections between text and sound here are not just literal but emotional, based on memory, intuition, dreams, and hopes.

- Inna Faliks

After a pilgrimage to Rocamadour I had the idea of composing a clandestine work which could be prepared in secret and then performed on the long-awaited day of liberation. With great enthusiasm I began Figure Humaine and completed it by the end of the summer. I composed the work for unaccompanied choir because I wanted this act of faith to be performed without instrumental aid, by sole means of the human voice.”
– Francis Poulenc

“The day the Americans arrived, I triumphantly placed my cantata on the studio desk, beneath my flag, at the window.”
– Francis Poulenc

“Francis, I never heard myself.
Francis, I needed you to understand me.”
– Paul Éluard

I believe that great art is often the product of great difficulty and tribulation, in many cases for the artist themselves. I also think art borne out of a time of societal turmoil can be even more profound, and can shed light today on what it was like to live and endure through tragedies of the past.

Figure Humaine is one of the ultimate artistic achievements from a time of turmoil. Composed by Francis Poulenc in 1943 in occupied France, it was composed in secret, inspired by the resistance poems of the surrealist poet Paul Éluard (poems that were distributed under plain cover during the occupation). It is one of the most profound pieces in the a cappella choral repertoire, if also one of the most difficult. Scored for double choir in six parts each, it is a vocal gauntlet which requires unmatched concentration and musicianship from every singer involved to mount a successful performance. Given that the piece was written at a time when victory was by no means assured, I believe that the difficulty of the work was intentional; to be worthy of the expressive task of communicating Éluard’s wartime thoughts, I think Poulenc believed that a choir must possess outstanding commitment, dedication, and skill. 
Because of its challenges, Figure Humaine is rarely performed. Soon after founding Skylark, I began to feel that this was a piece we simply had to share. But at only 20 minutes in length, I struggled to find the appropriate way to present it to allow people to truly engage with the work. While on a walk in 2014, I realized that we were approaching the 150th anniversary of the end of the Civil War, as well as the 70th anniversary of the end of World War II, occasions that presented a unique opportunity to share music of both time periods. 

I set out on a journey to find the appropriate Civil War-era songs to pair with the Poulenc movements. Figure Humaine sets forth an intense emotional progression, cycling between despair and optimism against a backdrop of gathering madness. It was critical to find pieces that would make sense musically and textually in the context of Poulenc’s work.

It was a fascinating journey. Through exploring my own musical heritage, I soon discovered that Alice Parker arranged Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye for the Robert Shaw Chorale in the late 1960s. Consultation with other Skylarks revealed several brilliant arrangements from Ron Jeffers, and a search through the Duke University Historical Sheet Music Archives uncovered several pieces that I never knew existed. The discovery that Abide with me (one of my favorite hymns) was written during 1861 was particularly poignant. Where no appropriate arrangement existed, I filled in myself with very simple editions. In all cases, the goal was to create as simple and honest an expression of the songs as possible. Against the foil of Poulenc’s monumental achievement of the choral art, we aim to juxtapose the simple, the familiar, the universal.

Through sharing this program, we hope to take you on an emotional and historical journey, a journey that we hope will illuminate the struggles of people who endured these two great wars, a journey that can shed light on nightmares of the past through the art that emerged from them, and most importantly, a journey that will affirm the incredible power of the human spirit to endure in times of tragedy.

– Matthew Guard, Artistic Director

SOME NOTES ON THE AUDIO/RECORDING PROCESS WE USED The singular sound of "Dreamspace" comes from fusing two sonic goals. By using a number of different microphones in various positions and distances, we create a comprehensive perspective on the piano and Michael Mizrahi's dynamic approach to performance, as well as a  realistic and life-like final "image" of the piano and Mizrahi's playing. The listener is situated in a specific place in the performance space while simultaneously experiencing sounds that could be heard from a number of listener positions. Bringing those two goals into harmony, aiming for both a multi-perspective and realistic soundworld, is what leads to the sounds you are hearing.  NOTES ON DREAMSPACE Dreamspace is a destination and state of mind.  Give dreams space. This record gives space for dreaming. Keep dreaming.

This recording is a reflection of several performances that took place over time and in varying acoustic environments, including collaborations with contemporary and aerial/vertical dance.

The Cage works tend to be binary in form, and while meditatively free flowing in spirit, the architecture is clean and easily understood. The Bach works—four movements that make up a sonata—offer a multitude of interpretive options, including an approach that wanders through the harmonic labyrinth without regard to pulse and traditional notions of time, magnifying minute rhetorical statements along the way. It can be such that the Bach works represent the dreamscape while the atonal prepared piano pieces of Cage represent structure. This might be in opposition to many listeners’ expectations.

Turkish pianist KCS is the Grand Prize winner of the 2022 Alexis Gregory Vendome Prize, where he was also awarded the Recording Prize.   has performed in concert halls such as the Morgan Library & Museum’s Gilder Lehrman Hall in New York, Wiener Saal in Salzburg, Verbrugghen Hall in Sydney and in other venues in cities such as Paris, Nice, Brussels, Cleveland, Verona and Istanbul. He has appeared in festivals such as the Gümüşlük Classical Music Festival, Antalya Piano Festival and Bellapais Music Festival. This season, he will appear at the 2024 Sydney Festival as the winner of The Rex Hobcroft People’s Choice Prize at the Sydney International Piano Competition, as well as in concerts with the Borusan Istanbul Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by James Judd and New Manhattan Sinfonietta conducted by Gürer Aykal.

Born in 1999 in Ankara, he began his musical education with Gamze Kırtıl at the Bilkent University’s Music and Ballet Primary School at the age of seven. After studying with Antonio Pompa-Baldi and Sergei Babayan at the Cleveland Institute of Music, he received his bachelor’s degree from The Juilliard School, where he was a recipient of the Ahmet Ertegün Memorial Scholarship and the Susan W. Rose Piano Fellowship twice. In 2018, he was accepted as a scholar of “Young Musicians on World Stages” (YMWS), led by Güher-Süher Pekinel. During his studies, he has had the chance to work with musicians such as Jacques Rouvier, Pavel Gililov, Boris Berman, Ilya Itin, Michel Beroff, Jean-Francois Heisser, Gabriela Montero and Emanuel Ax. He is currently pursuing graduate studies at the Cleveland Institute of Music under the direction of Maestro Babayan.

Vivian Fung has long been a friend and admired composer of the Jasper String Quartet. The Quartet first performed one of her works in 2019, and we were immediately captivated by the visceral energy and impeccable craft of her writing. Vivian’s String Quartets Nos. 1–4 span 18 years of her career and reflect a remarkable journey of absorbing, integrating, and synthesizing a unique spectrum of influences into her compositional voice. Unwavering in all of the works is a fierce heart, instrumental fearlessness, and an amazing instinct for texture. We are incredibly grateful to have recorded these works with Vivian in the studio and for the growth we experienced in the process. – Jasper String Quartet

This album is a testimonial to my lifelong adoration of strings, dating back to my beginning cello studies as a middle school student. My cello teacher introduced me to a wide-ranging repertoire and opened up my sonic world with the sound of string quartets, concerti, and Baroque instruments. The string quartet format, in particular, has gripped my imagination since writing Pizzicato, which I originally wrote as a standalone work and later incorporated as the third movement of String Quartet No. 1 and continues to be one of my most performed pieces. Many thank yous to the Jasper String Quartet for their dedication to this CD project; to my husband, son, and parents for their support; and to everyone at Sono Luminus for producing this wonderful album. – Vivian Fung

Mendelssohn’s Songs without Words simply defy ordinary description. Refined and nuanced, they constitute some of the composer’s finest and best-known works. For nearly two hundred years, they were regarded as charming relics, select romantic gems performed in small concert halls and salons. While their subtle, ornamental qualities certainly shine brightest in more intimate settings, closer inspection reveals an unexpected depth and complexity to these miniature masterpieces. Their interpretive and technical demands are considerable, requiring sensitivity to voicing, pedaling and dynamic control. Meant to enchant rather than dazzle, they evoke myriad dreams revealing some of the composer’s innermost reflections. Like private entries in a musical diary, they offer a rare glimpse into this reserved but passionate artist’s thoughts.

REVIEW:

The Mendelssohn gems of course I was familiar with and very fond of, while Price Walden’s music was a most rewarding discovery of compositions that reflect keen sensitivity, a delicate overall feel, and expansive melodies underpinned by equally clear and open harmonies that never muscle into the crystalline quality of the melodies. These are intensely American works and a joy to listen to.

Bruce Levingston’s insights into Mendelssohn provide many moments of delight – his ever-sensitive approach bringing out everything that is joyful about that chapter of Mendelssohn’s oeuvre.

As is always the case the engineering of the album is peerless and the album itself well annotated.

A winner through and through.

-- All About The Arts (Rafael de Acha)

Note: this double-disc release contains both a CD and a Blu-ray Audio disc. The former will play on any CD player, and the latter will only play on devices with Blu-ray read capability.

Daniel Bjarnason writes: "at the risk of getting canceled by my musician colleagues, I’m going to divulge a dark truth about classical music: it’s never as captivating or molecule-altering for anyone as it is for us on stage. Which is why I often find classical records, especially those of the orchestral persuasion, so underwhelming. So not … immediate. Which is why I am approaching zealot status in my admiration for Sono Luminus and the way in which it submerges listeners within reach of the Atlantis that is the on-stage experience. Which is why, save for live performance, the often inimitable new-music originating in, or in proximity to, Iceland (homeland to an unreasonable percentage of the composers living rent-free in my headphones for more than a decade) has found its most ardent advocate and most clarion amplifier in Winchester, Virginia. Certainly its exceptional national orchestra has. Despite a bewildering insistence by journalists to characterize music written by those with Icelandic surnames as a monolith, the entries on this tracklist are as singular as hand blown glass.

"The inclusion of American sonic clairvoyant Missy Mazzoli is a helpful geographic foil here, but there is one element fusing all of these inventions: Your person is about to feel minuscule or massive, by contrast to – or motivated by – these sounds. Anna Thorvaldsdottir’s music is often intimidatingly cyclopean, and Catamorphosis at times mimics the cosmic indifference of Lovecraftian deities, but it simultaneously introduces an iridescent hope I have not encountered before in her music. Mazzoli’s Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres) catapults us from one end of a pulsing solar system to the other while Daníel Bjarnason’s From Space I Saw Earth improbably stretches perspective from earth to the moon and back, seeming somehow both terrestrial and paranormal within a single phrase. Maria Huld Markan Sigfúsdóttir's Clockworking bridges a similar expanse, coexisting within the measurable realm of time-keeping … and the immeasurable realm of what occurs as the seconds tick by. Is Bára Gísladóttir's ÓS gasping in air, or desperately exhaling? Whatever your observation, and as with every waypoint on this illusory itinerary, the answer is likely: both."

REVIEWS:

The range of sonorities they [the Iceland Symphony Orchestra] bring out in Gísladóttir’s ÓS is viscerally gripping – rushing strings, apocalyptically deep wind notes and percussion fusillades…Mazzoli’s engaging Sinfonia and Sigfúsdóttir’s Clockworking provide textural, stylistic and expressive contrast. Sono Luminus’s sound is top-notch. Enjoy!

-- Gramophone

I listened to these two discs one after another: the first is a normal CD, which I listened to to familiarize myself with this music. This is all definitely in my wheelhouse: Anna Thorvaldsdottir’s CATAMORPHOSIS, from 2020; Missy Mazzoli’s Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres), from 2014; Daníel Bjarnason’s From Space I Saw Earth, from 2019; Maria Sigfúsdóttir’s Clockworking for Orchestra, from 2020; and Bára Gísladóttir’s ÓS, written for the Iceland Centenary in 2018. It’s beautifully played by the Iceland Symphony Orchestra, directed by Daniel Bjarnason.

Only a few months ago I reviewed Missy Mazzoli’s latest album, Dark With Excessive Bright, which also includes her Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres), with Tim Weiss conducting the Arctic Philharmonic. It seems like high-latitude orchestras are best situated to play this piece about the Music of the Spheres, situated as they are far from the noise of the world’s cities, and closer to the light show of the Aurora Borealis. I prefer the performance of the Iceland players by the narrowest of margins in this important work, helped as it is by the sound engineering of Sono Luminus.

And it’s the audio that brings us to the second disc: a Pure Audio Blu-ray disc with the identical repertoire, totalling just under an hour, in remarkable Surround Sound. As I’ve mentioned a few times in my reviews, I don’t spend a lot of time worrying about the audiophile component of recording, but listening to this Blu-ray knocked me for a loop. This will surely become a demonstration disc for high-end Surround Sound systems.

Iceland is a small country, but its music, both classical and popular, has the huge scope and universal appeal of the Sagas. This is a distinguished addition to a long and distinguished artistic tradition.

-- Music for Several Instruments

Boasting a formidable ensemble of ninety full-time musicians, Iceland's national orchestra is the perfect conduit for these composers's bold imaginings. Atmospheriques is an apt title given how much its oft-ethereal material imposes itself. Melody is downplayed in favour of mood, texture, and presence, the latter qualities architecturally established in the form of grandiose blocks of sound. The music at times plays like the slow, heaving movements of an enormous geological mass.

All five works are immersive and dynamic creations, yet there are critical differences between them, something Bjarnason emphasizes in asserting that each of the five is “as singular as hand-blown glass.”

That said, one description applied to Thorvaldsdottir's music, that it's “an ecosystem of sounds, where materials continuously grow in and out of each other,” is one that could as easily be applied to some of the other works. At twenty-one minutes, her CATAMORPHOSIS, first up on the hour-long release, is epic on purely temporal grounds, let alone structural. Such durational expanse grants her a huge canvas upon which to paint, which she does using flurries of glissando-swooping strings, rumbling sonorities, and orchestral micro-chatter. The music convulses and broods, but there are also lyrical episodes that allow for peaceful contemplation. As the piece advances towards its conclusion, it begins to suggest the disturbed sleep of some soon-to-be-awakened behemoth, with all the imminent activity that entails. CATAMORPHOSIS flows seamlessly into Mazzoli's Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres), whose shimmering strings and muted horns exude a starry-eyed quality that positions it far from the geological ruptures that ground Thorvaldsdottir's piece. Mystery permeates Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres) too, but in this case it's the kind of mystery one associates with ineffable extraterrestrial expanses. The ethereal character of her piece carries over into Bjarnason's From Space I Saw Earth, whose sweeping tonal masses are so toweringly large it seems as if they're extending from one planetary realm to another.

Sigfúsdóttir's reputation precedes her on the recording. In addition to establishing herself as a composer, she's a violinist well-known for her membership in the band amiina and for touring with Sigur Rós from 2000 to 2008. Compared to the other works, Clockworking for Orchestra is dramatic but also a tad less tumultuous; its keening strings are also explicitly grounded by chiming mallet patterns whose interlock lends the piece a stability less defined elsewhere.

Like Sigfúsdóttir, the Copenhagen-based Bára Gísladóttir is a composer and musician, her instrument the double bass. Gísladóttir's contribution to the album, ÓS, picks up where her recent Sono Luminus album SILVA left off with a blistering textural exploration where strings swarm, horns groan in anguish, and percussive surfaces are violently battered. One of the more impressive things about Atmospheriques, music aside, involves sequencing. While there is a dramatic shift in tone and style from the penultimate piece to the closing one, the album generally advances smoothly from one setting to the next, which makes the recording register as a cohesive singular statement as opposed to a compilation of unrelated works.

-- Textura

This album is the culmination of an extraordinarily fruitful artistic collaboration that took place at the 2022 Boulder Bach Festival in Boulder, Colorado. The recordings were made immediately after the public concerts concluded. They document four of the many memorable musical interpretations at the Festival, which occurred not just because of the many talented artists, but also thanks to the kindness and generosity of countless members of the community and region. Although many musicians converged on Boulder from all over the globe, the Festival also featured several remarkable local artists. The entire project took place against the backdrop of some of the most majestic natural scenery in the world.

REVIEW:

Under artistic director Mina Gajić, and music director Zachary Carrettin, the Boulder Bach Festival of Colorado has progressed steadily in its artistic aims as well as providing an attractive setting for music lovers. The present recordings, made immediately after the public performances in the 2022 Festival, bear witness to this, in sparkling accounts of two concertos by Johann Sebastian Bach and two choral settings by Johann Christian Bach, an earlier sprig on a very prolific family tree.

-- Audio Video Club of Atalnta (Phil Muse)

There is an Icelandic saying, “mergur málsins”, which directly translates to “the marrow of the matter,” and these Suites, to me, speak directly to the essence of being human. As for many cellists, these Suites have been my steady companion throughout my life with the cello, first as a vehicle to learn counterpoint, style, and harmony, then as material with which to explore personal expression and interpretation, and today they are a mirror, reflecting the deeper truth of the human experience, revealing more layers of meaning each time I come back to them.

As far as we know, these Suites were not written for the church, and by 1720, they were not written for people to actually dance to, but rather as forms with familiar rhythms and style. In contrast to the Violin Sonatas and Partitas which were written around the same time, the Cello Suites each have the same movement structure, which includes a Prelude and two pairs of dances (Allemande and Courante, Sarabande and Gigue) with an added “wildcard” of pairs of Menuets, Gavottes, or Bourées. Rather than hindering expression, this structure seems to enable more creativity to flow, as Bach pushes the boundaries of the expressive and technical possibilities of the instrument with each succeeding Suite.

During the heart of the pandemic of 2020, I found comfort and refuge in these Suites. As I began to play them not just individually but as a set, an arch started to emerge, a true Hero’s journey: starting with the innocent 1st Suite in G major, the first taste of bitter disappointment in the d minor 2nd Suite, a renewed optimism in the 3rd Suite in C major, the bold and brash 4th Suite in Eb Major, the dark tragedy of the 5th Suite in C minor, and finally the glorious redemption of the 6th Suite in D Major. My hope in presenting these Suites without repeats is to more clearly illuminate this arch of their presented order so that we may more closely follow this universal storyline. - Sæunn Thorsteinsdóttir

REVIEW:

Recordings of Bach’s six Cello Suites aren’t in short supply, so what does this latest new one have going for it? Icelandic-American cellist Sæunn Thorsteinsdóttir is known as a contemporary music specialist, returning here to what she describes as “mergur málsins” (“the marrow of the matter” in Icelandic), a constant companion throughout her musical life. Thorsteinsdóttir found solace in the suites during the pandemic and celebrated the 2020 summer solstice by playing each suite in a different church in Iceland’s remote Westfjords region. Thorsteinsdóttir views each work as part of a sequence, “a true hero’s journey” which takes the listener from innocence to redemption, tasting disappointment, optimism and tragedy along the way.

Knowing this isn’t a prerequisite for enjoying the performances, and Thorsteinsdóttir’s poised, lyrical playing makes this set a front runner among recent recordings.

-- The Arts Desk

This is a Blu-ray Audio disc, playable on Blu-ray players only.

“In the Summer of 2019, we recorded our album Once Upon a Time, our first recorded version of a “story concert.” Although we had explored this concept for several years prior with storyteller Sarah Walker, Once Upon a Time was our first collaboration with Benedict Sheehan, who composed incidental music (almost like a choral movie score) to accompany Sarah’s dialogue and to connect the musical dots between existing works by an array of composers. That summer, it became clear that we had stumbled onto something unusual and special. First, the idea of a continuous choral story score – combining elements of classical performance, storytelling, film scoring, and theatricality – seemed to be a rich new idiom for choral performance art. Second, the collaborative team of the project seemed like a dream come true – there was a strong sense of mutual respect for everyone’s unique talents, and a rare ability for creative push and pull…” (Matthew Guard, Artistic Director)

How do we even measure time? It is sometimes said that time is as old as humankind, but of course it isn’t. It’s just something we created out of a need for... what exactly? Earliest known evidence suggests we were measuring time already 5000 years ago. That way we could create predictability, for example concerning planting and harvesting. From there on we could more easily schedule and organize, which then helped us building a more sustainable life. When we had found a mutual understanding of what we would call time then other systems could be developed, kind of like a third-party software.

Music notation works as a fine example. Today our life is synchronized “to the beat.” Not only is every single footstep kept track of by our telephones or every breath by our smart wrist watches – even our thoughts are as good as monitored as we scroll casually through advertisements on social media. Without us even realizing, the idea of time and synchronicity is apparently encrypted so deep in our consciousness that the thought of viewing the world without it is beyond our comprehension. That doesn’t change the fact that time as we understand it has not always been the same. Our ideas on time have changed throughout the centuries and will most probably continue to do so. The works on Sonic Alchemy are of composers who offer a new perspective on how we can perceive time, each in their own way. - Páll Ragnar Pálsson

From the pipe organ at the Sono Luminus studio in Boyce, Virginia, we are pleased to present a fine selection of baroque organ music for the Christmas season. Felipe Dominguez (b. 1983) is a Chilean/American organist, harpsichordist, clavichordist, and musicologist. A graduate of Brigham Young University (B.M. 2010, M.M. 2012), he studied organ and harpsichord with Douglas Bush and Don Cook. He has pursued further postgraduate organ instruction in Europe with Edoardo Belotti, Hans Davidsson, Harald Vogel, and Leon Berben. Mr. Dominguez has performed as a soloist and in ensembles in Chile, Argentina, the United States and Europe.

Nun komm der Heiden Heiland (Oh, Come thou Savior of the Gentiles) is a German chorale normally sung during advent, and is a call for the Lord to come to Earth.

Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming is a well known and beloved traditional chorale on the original harmonization by Michael Praetorius.

The chorale Lobt Gott, ihr Christen, allzugleich, (Praise God, you Christians, All Together) is set in verse 1 with the melody in the soprano and counterpoint in the two lower voices, and in verse 2 with the melody in the pedal and two lines in imitation on top.

Noël cette Journée (Christmas day today) imitates the French musette with a sustained pedal note, a sweet melody and elegant ornaments, painting an image of the French countryside.

Zipoli’s Pastorale also centers on the image of countryside landscape, which was a popular Christmas theme at the time in the spirit of the biblical annunciation to the shepherds.

Michau qui causoit ce grand bruit is a traditional French Noël treated in a very common structure of variations with different character, the first with a royal feel and the second with a courtesan air.

A ricercar is an imitative form that uses a melody as its main source of material for development. In the case of the Ricercare on “Ave Maria Klare”, a hymn for the Virgin Mary is used as the main source material.

Buxtehude’s Fantasia on “Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern” (How brightly Shines the Morning Star) is one of his greatest masterpieces. He uses small phrases of the chorale melody to develop contrasting sections full of color, energy, and beauty, which also provide an opportunity to highlight the wonderful colors of the organ.

Louis-Claude Daquin wrote a large collection of Noëls and his own performances were legendary in 18th Century Paris. His Noël variations normally present the melody first, followed by variations, at times very virtuosic as it is in this case.

Selections from the Oratorio “The Messiah” by Handel have long been a staple of the Christmas repertoire. This version of the pifa transcribed for the organ is highly ornamented and with its triple meter and dance character intends to take the listener back to the annunciation to the shepherds.

Böhm’s setting of “From Heaven Above,” a popular Christmas chorale, sets the melody as a solo, largely unornamented so it is easy to recognize, against a contrapuntal backdrop.

Voluntary V, Op. 6, by John Stanley though not a Christmas piece has all the hallmarks of a royal entrance. It begins with a contrapuntal section similar to a string ensemble, followed by a virtuosic trumpet solo (Oboe 8’).

This second setting of “From Heaven Above,” by Pachelbel is much different than the previous one, the melody being in the pedal with a Principal 8’ against Koppel Flute 4‘ and Quint 1 1/3‘ in the Swell that dance in counterpoint above the melody.

This 18th Century setting of a pastorale by Bernardo Pasquini is much more elaborated, making more use of counterpoint and varied harmonies throughout the piece. However, it stays true to the countryside character of pastorals.

In Sweet Rejoicing! (In Dulci Jubilo) Is a popular upbeat Christmas hymn. The first 16th Century version from the Fridolin Sichers Tablature is highly imitative, with phrases overlapping over each other very actively. The second version by J.S. Bach, written in his youth, is a highly ornamented version of the hymn that works in scales and arpeggios with a majestic end only as Bach can deliver.

REVIEW:

What distinguishes this release (other than the fine playing and sound) is the inviting combination of a few absolute Christmas classics with a treasure trove of lesser-known but vibrantly lively period works. In the end we get a good listen to the newly installed Sono Luminus organ, which sounds just right. And then the program scores big to my ears with a wide-ranging, musically ravishing collection of Baroque gems for the season. Highly recommended.

-- Gapplegate Classical Modern Music Review

Note: this double-disc release contains both a CD and a Blu-ray Audio disc. The latter will only play on devices with Blu-ray read capability.

Hugi Guðmundsson writes: “The title piece, Equilibrium IV: Windbells, was the seed this whole album grew from. It was premièred under rather unusual circumstances at the 2005 World Expo in Japan in a venue that more closely resembled a stadium than a concert stage for classical music. I was an integral part of the performance due to the interactive electronics in the piece. We had practiced that I would maintain eye contact with the musicians during performances, just a few meters from the stage. However, the mixer I was operating at the concert was housed in something that resembled an air traffic control tower some 100 meters away from the stage. Or at least it felt that way. From my perspective, the musicians were like tiny ants in one corner of the enormous stage and they could not see me at all. Despite these outlandish circumstances, we somehow managed to perform the piece.

"It has since become one of my most performed chamber pieces and has received several awards and recognitions. It has never been recorded in a studio up until now. So, after a recent performance with Reykjavík Chamber Orchestra, where it received very warm reviews, we decided it was time to do something about it. That snowballed into what is now this album…”

REVIEWS:

Icelandic composer Hugi Guðmundsson has crafted an idiom combining neo-tonality and modernist inflections, with deliberate rhythms often based on slowly evolving ostinatos. Aspects of rhythmic construction loom large here on this portrait CD for Sono Luminus, as well as Guðmundsson’s incorporation of electronics into chamber works. Guðmundsson’s inclusion on the label is most welcome. He has a distinctive creative voice, and Windbells is a thoroughly persuasive recording.

-- Sequenza21.com

Performances throughout are distinct and characterful, but the bold musicianship of flautist Áshildur Haraldsdóttir deserves special mention; her playing is assertive and daring in its breathy ferocity, while equally capable of singing with the sweetest clarity.

-- BBC Music Magazine

Matei Varga writes: “To paraphrase Tolstoy, all happy memories feel more or less the same; but the unhappy times are experienced differently by each one of us. We’ve all had some really tough weeks, which sometimes turned into months, and (with a bit of bad luck) into years… I like to think that “off” years help us grow and prepare for the beautiful things that will undoubtedly come our way (I am an optimist at heart), but living through dark times is a complicated process.

The year 2020 was complicated indeed. The world was put on hold and we hardly remember what we did in February, or May, or September… Many suffered from isolation and the inability to socialize - and they probably prefer to think back to 2020 as a year that never happened… I, on the other hand, felt liberated by the lack of schedules, appointments and the pressure to be productive - that horrid word which is killing our souls, slowly but surely. Instead I embraced seclusion and enjoyed the time off which was forced upon us. Yes, I did miss performing in front of a live audience and traveling to beautiful places, but I found that staying home, with my piano, offered me a better view towards my inner self and a chance to experience the joy of a new discovery. That was for me the Cuban master Ernesto Lecuona…Two years later, the pandemic isn’t over and neither is the collective anxiety- but at least I can offer you this very personal recording, which I hope will take your mind away from current realities. This is music’s most phenomenal power- to bring joy when we really need it!...”

REVIEW:

The Year That Never Was in Romanian pianist Matei Varga’s title here is 2020; he writes of how he came to embrace the COVID-era isolation and explored the work of Ernesto Lecuona, a composer about whom he had previously known little. The output of Cuban composer Lecuona is sometimes categorized as salon music, and while it includes a few classical hits like the opening Andalucía (from the Suite española), much of his large production of some 600 works remains little explored. Here, the excerpts from the Danzas cubanas del siglo XIX and Danzas Afro-Cubanas will be worth the price of admission for Lecuona fans. He wants to expand the notion of salon music to include some of its predecessors, not only Chopin but going back as far as Domenico Scarlatti. That pandemic seems to have produced a boomlet in recordings of salon music, which is probably understandable, and Varga’s release is a novel take on the idea.

-- AllMuic.com (James Manheim)

Rupert Boyd writes: “This is an album of love. But also of despair. And some things in between. Largely conceived, arranged, rehearsed and recorded during the Covid-19 pandemic, Songs of Love & Despair contains the music that we were drawn to during this time -- a time of unprecedented stillness and solitude, traveling at most a few miles from our home for months on end. As a married couple we were fortunate to be able to play music together every day, and this collection of repertoire is half love, half longing; from the delicate beauty of Debussy and the joyousness of Boccherini, to the anguish of Messiaen and heartbreaking Appalachian folk songs, which tell the stories of love, life and loss. The album is a testament to this time, and we welcome you to join us as we traverse the emotions that have enveloped us all.” The album encompasses music from Luigi Boccherini to The Beatles to Beyoncé, from Franz Schubert to Florence B. Price to Radiohead.

REVIEW:

Guitarist Rupert Boyd and his wife, cellist Laura Metcalf, have released their second recording and it includes transcriptions of well-known pieces such as Debussy’s ‘Arabesque No. 1’ with delicately articulated arpeggios by the guitar providing a graceful accompaniment to the lyrical cello melody. Schubert’s ‘Gretchen am Spinnrade’ is delivered fluidly with deep romantic passion in an arrangement by Napoleon Coste (1805–83).

‘A New York Minute’ by Marian Budos, is bursting with energy and close coordination between the two players. Metcalf’s sense of drama and razor-sharp intonation combine to achieve a powerful delivery.

Two arrangements by Lennon and McCartney are pleasantly performed and would be crowd pleasers in concert.

The recorded tone of each of the two instruments is realistic, but the cello is somewhat overpowering on some tracks.

Liner notes are informative and entertaining. All in all, this is an effective project, mixing known works with the new ones—always a plus!

-- American Record Guide (Jim McCutchen)

Before television or radio, the piano was the focal point of the home. Holiday recordings such as Jacqueline Schwab's DOWN CAME AN ANGEL evoke the spirit of days gone by.
Best known for her solo piano soundtracks to Ken Burns's PBS documentaries, Schwab has a quaint, inviting touch on the keyboard and a wonderful appreciation of Appalachian musical tradition. The result is a warm, familiar Christmas sound filled with nostalgia. Schwab's piano shimmers with a delightful tone, like a parlor with a fireplace on a snowy day.
Though the album is entirely instrumental, the traditional hymns, carols, and spirituals were meant to be sung. To that end, the producers have included lyric sheets, giving families the opportunity to gather around the piano once again to experience a Christmas tradition.