The music of Alan Hovhaness, one of America's most prolific composers, enchants with his signature synthesis of East and West. Influenced by his Armenian heritage and a fascination with nature and spirituality Hovhaness sought to create music "for all people, music which is beautiful and healing." This collection of works featuring the violin includes several premiere recordings. Concerto No. 2, one of a series of ten concertos for various instruments, requires the soloist and ensemble to play using distinctive effects including tone clusters, melisma, and playing without strict measure. Evocations of Armenian liturgy contrasted with dizzying Scottish jigs can be heard in the Violin Sonata.

Although Alan Hovhaness (1911-2000) was born in Massachusetts and ended his days in Seattle, his music was profoundly coloured by his Armenian heritage, in particular through his fondness for the modal melos of the ancient Armenian church. His combination of modality and melisma, of hymn and dance, can often make him sound like an eastern cousin of Vaughan Williams. The organ is an ideal medium for his musical language, allowing it to range from timeless, questing prayer to gloriously full-bodied statements that stir the soul.

This program brings together a wide variety of Alan Hovhaness’ works including numerous world premiere recordings. These range from the earliest of his band compositions, the processional ‘Tapor No. 1,’ to more recent chamber pieces such as the gentle barcarole of ‘Vision on a Starry Night.’ ‘The Ruins of Ani’ returns us to the tragic location also explored in Hovhaness’ ‘Symphony No. 23 Ani’, while the ‘Three Improvisations on Folk Tunes’ evoke dances from the Indian subcontinent. Newly discovered works with percussion include the Japanese-influenced overture to Hovhaness’ opera ‘The Burning House’ alongside ‘October Mountain,’ now a classic in its genre.

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REVIEW:

The value of the Naxos label’s ongoing American Classics series has never been so aptly demonstrated as with the success of this release from the able but hardly well-known Central Washington University Wind Ensemble. A few pieces here have gained exposure: October Mountain is a fixture of percussion ensemble concerts in the U.S., at least, but several are world premieres. This is all to the good, and there’s not a dull moment to be had here. This is both a wide sampling of Hovhaness’ music and a valuable close focus on his music for winds.

– All Music Guide (James Manheim)

Alan Hovhaness’ Symphony No. 48 is subtitled “Vision of Andromeda”, and anyone who has seen the Hubble photos of our neighboring galaxy knows just how gorgeous that must be. For years I used one of those magnificent vistas as my computer’s screen saver. This four-movement symphony, lasting just under half an hour, is typical Hovhaness. There are lovely, modal fugues in the second movement and finale; evocative, vaguely oriental melodies all over the place; luscious string chorales, and interludes for bells and tam-tam. Check out the opening of the finale. Fabulous, isn’t it? Does it do justice to Hovhaness’ “vision”? It’s plausible.

The truth is, Hovhaness always has had his detractors. Bernstein rather maliciously called his First Symphony “ghetto music” (which would be a compliment today), and his 67 symphonies and other works can sound rather the same–but then, so does a lot of Bach. For me anyway, there’s something disarming about his childlike joy in consonant harmony, in the fluidity of his fugal writing, and his utter unconsciousness of the fact that his melodies often tread dangerously close to kitsch. Say what you will, his music is unfailingly honest. It is what it is.

There are also moments where it achieves an astonishing, passionate intensity. The Prelude and Quadruple Fugue is, in its way, a masterpiece in considering the means by which it accumulates energy as each distinctively-wrought fugue subject enters and gets combined with its predecessors. It’s so clear, so easy to follow, and so much fun that you entirely forget the sophisticated contrapuntal mind at work behind the scenes. And that is as it should be.

The Concerto for Soprano Saxophone and Strings also sounds vividly tuneful and unfailingly attractive. When Hovhaness calls the finale, perhaps naively, Let The Living and The Celestial Sing, it’s easy to scoff, but the music is just so bloody pretty. Greg Banaszak plays the solo part with the suave timbre that the work requires, especially in the Adagio espressivo at the start of the second movement, while Hovhaness specialist Gerard Schwarz does his usual fine job with all three works, galvanizing the players of the Eastern Music Festival Orchestra to a welcome degree of corporate integrity. It helps, of course, that Hovhaness’ music is as straightforward to play as it is to hear. Beautiful.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

A wonderful introduction to this amazing composer’s music.

With over 500 works to his name Alan Hovhaness may well be the most prolific American composer as well as one of the most fascinating. His music cannot be pigeonholed since he drew influences from so many varied sources. That said, above all, he insisted on melody, having roundly rejected the path of ‘modernism’ that many others followed in the 20 ^th century. Among those influences was his Armenian heritage inherited through his father. These are very much to the fore in his First Symphony subtitled Exile which references the plight of Armenians who were forced to flee in their millions in the face of an onslaught by Ottoman Turks during the First World War. Lovers of big tunes will revel in the lush sonorities on display. They’re in evidence right from the first notes. These are given to the clarinet which introduces a plaintive tune taken up by other woodwind with the orchestra continuing the Middle Eastern-sounding scales and the music becoming disturbed and agitated. The second, short movement marked Grazioso is further demonstration of the melodies for which Hovhaness is rightly renowned. Woodwind sings out against a background of pizzicato from strings and harp. This allows for an interlude of calm before the third and final movement brings us back to agitation. Driving strings and winds recall the opening theme in chorale form which then becomes the main focus of the orchestra. The powerfully expressed message is that a whole people cannot be suppressed. Its spirit will reassert itself and prevail against all the odds.
 
One of the other influences Hovhaness exploits is his love and reverence of the music of the Far East, particularly Japan and Korea, having studied both. The second work, Fantasy on Japanese Woodprints, has a title that allows him to explore his own impressions of the music from this part of the world. It involves extremely creative ways of approximating the sounds of Japan through clever and inventive use of the instruments of a Western orchestra. The marimba is the instrument of choice to carry the main theme against a background of orchestral experimentation creating a convincing and effective ‘Japanese’ sound for Western ears.
 
Yet another influence which has shown itself in many of Hovhaness’s compositions are mountains. He once wrote “Mountains are symbols, like pyramids, of man’s attempt to know God. Mountains are symbolic meeting places between the mundane and spiritual worlds”. It was a natural thing therefore to have been moved to write a symphony that expresses those ideas following the huge explosion of Mount Saint Helens in Washington State in 1980. The first movement sets the scene and pays reverence to the majesty and mystery of the mountain through use of gorgeous harmonically and melodically rich tunes. These emphasise the mountain’s imperious eminence over its surroundings and its naturally serene nature prior to its being geographically changed by the explosion. The second movement is also calm since it describes the fabulous Spirit Lake in whose waters the mountain was often magically mirrored. Once again Hovhaness uses Japanese-sounding melodies to create the air of mystery and natural beauty of a place which was obliterated by the explosion. The finale opens with an almost hymn-like theme from the strings with tubular bells in the background. A sole flute precedes a representation of the cataclysmic events that rent the mountain asunder, and which continues for much of the movement’s 14 minutes. This musical depiction of the destructive power of nature is extremely potent with plenty of work for bass drums and gong as wave after wave of explosions tear the very fabric of the ground on which the mountain stood. Finally the opening hymn returns to re-establish a measure of calm. Hovhaness doesn’t end the symphony there. Instead he creates a coda to signify the “youthful power and grandeur of the Cascades Mountains” that, as he said, renews the vitality of “our peaceful planet, the living earth, the life-giving force building the majestic Cascades Mountains (,) rising, piercing the clouds of heaven”. This symphony represents an extremely satisfying journey that shows the composer’s unique view of how to use music to describe nature in all its creative as well as destructive power. The disc as a whole is a wonderful introduction to this amazing composer’s music that I for one am only beginning to discover. More of Hovhaness’s works are being recorded all the time. With 67 symphonies alone there’s plenty left to record and to discover and that’s an exciting prospect. Gerard Schwarz is a great advocate of American music and he and his orchestra help do the kind of justice Hovhaness deserves. Ron Johnson does a sterling job on the marimba in the disc’s second work. These recordings were originally made by Delos and they offer an extremely rewarding experience for a whole new audience to discover and revel in.
 
-- Steve Arloff , MusicWeb International

Admirers of the composer need not hesitate.

An hour’s worth of Hovhaness in ‘wind band plus percussion symphonic garb’ is the raison d’être of this Naxos release. It bears all his most obvious hallmarks, sometimes starkly: vistas, intense tattoos, hieratic brass, convulsive dialogues, chimes, noble perorations, edifices of almost Mayan splendour.

The Seventh Symphony dates from 1959. The purity of its rhythmic percussion tattoos and the hieratic nature of its brass calls give one an idea of the processional intensity of its dramaturgy. The loquacity of his wind writing implies a raft of interior monologues. The writing becomes more concentrated in the central movement where Hovhaness ensures themes are less fragmentary and by the finale things have turned positively Olympian. The percussion is now subservient to the to the brass calls, themselves more legato and ushering in a sunset glow, and a cooling, reflective consonance.

The following year he wrote Ararat, Symphony No.14. It makes much of ‘dragon fly’ sonorities, bright trumpets and glittering percussion once again but adds a further percussive layer via bell chimes and a buzzy series of terraced sonorities – dramatic, florid, and ground shaking in the central movement. The percussion starts up immediately in the finale but is gradually worn down by the sheer pugilistic insistence of the conquering brass.

The final symphony of the three is written on a much broader canvas than these two quarter of an hour works. But it too is a powerful construction, its chattering winds and terse declamation capturing the ear with great trenchancy. Drunken lowering lower brass add a leering patina as well, as do the aero engine and gamelan evocations. The finale is a wonderful example of nobility and processional tread with repeated figures passed from brass to wind adding a layer of sonic depth. We feel as if some vast castle is being evoked, as the brass calls resound from battlement to crenellation; Gormenghast in music.

Keith Brion has a long track-record with Hovhaness and he directs his forces with great vitality and precision. This splendid disc has been excellently engineered and admirers of the composer need not hesitate.

-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International

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These three symphonies for wind orchestra treat some recurring themes in Alan Hovhaness' work: mountains (Symphonies Nos. 7 and 14) and his Armenian heritage (Symphony No. 23, evocative of the medieval city of Ani, "The City of A Thousand and One Cathedrals"). The later work is by far the most substantial, but all of them constitute worthy additions to the repertoire for winds and percussion. They are very well played here by the Trinity College ensemble under Keith Brion, who has lived with this music for many decades. Perhaps the English horn soloist in "Sunset", the last movement of Symphony No. 7, is a touch "quacky", but this and any other criticisms would be mere quibbles. The brass play with confidence and the sort of imposing serenity that Hovhaness so often requires, while the drums, bells, and tam-tam punctuate the texture atmospherically. Sonics are very fine, and the entire production is dedicated touchingly to the memory of Lady Evelyn Barbirolli (d. 2008), who some readers may recall was a noted oboist in her day. Recommended to fans of the composer, and of good music for concert band.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Perhaps the best Hovhaness instalment so far from Naxos.

Naxos are moving with implacable determination around the towering edifice that is the Hovhaness catalogue. Disc after disc is added to their catalogue and discoveries are being made at every turn. This latest volume, set in the context of their American Classics series continues the track record established by: 8.559294 (Symphony 60; Guitar Concerto 1), 8.559207 (Symphonies 4, 20, 53) and 8.559128 (Cello Concerto, Symphony 22).

As is evident from the Saxophone Concerto Hovhaness can be unpredictable and so he proves here. The wonderfully titled Fanfare for the New Atlantis is more of a tone poem with aspects of fanfare in-built. His regal and confident brass writing has the trappings of antiquity - a touch of the Gabriellis - but there is also a sense of modernity, of prayer and of invocation. The most stately aspects of the fanfares at 5:10 recall the striding brass writing in Vaughan Williams' Pilgrim's Progress. The origin of the piece seems unknown though it may have some connection with the Francis Bacon Society which believes that Shakespeare was Bacon's pen-name. Hovhaness was a member of the Society. Amongst Bacon's writings is The New Atlantis. In any event this Fanfare defies clichés you may have absorbed from knowing the examples by Bliss, Walton and Benjamin. This fanfare is recorded, as are all three works, with lavish resonance yet with no loss in definition.

The Guitar Concerto No. 2 was commissioned by Narciso Yepes who gave the work its premiere at the Granada Festival in 1990, five years after its completion. This may have been delayed by the tragic death of Yepes' son in the year in which the concerto was completed. There were no other performances after the premiere. Javier Calderón who commissioned the First Guitar Concerto plays it here although David Leisner made the first recording of the guitar concerto (Naxos 8.559294). The Concerto No. 2 is in four movements. The first is an andante which is delicate, stately and Moorish in character. The allegro giusto recalls the Ravel string quartet in its pizzicato and Rodrigo's Aranjuez in the guitar writing. The andante misterioso makes use of the composer's trademark in surging and searching unison strings alternating with guitar solo. The two commune in invocation and response. The final adagio, allegro giusto combines the sinuous North African arcana of the first movement with a delicate heel-and-toe dance (2:06) over pizzicato. It will have most listeners wanting to play this piece again and again.

In the Loon Lake Symphony Hovhaness looks back in the first movement (Prelude) through the hybrid Celtic-Oriental cor anglais melody to holidays in New Hampshire. We should remember that Hovhaness spent time at his uncle's New Hampshire farm. The commission for this work came in 1987 from the New Hampshire Music Festival. The opulent yet understated carpet of the orchestra comprises a delicate interplay of harp, bells, and pizzicato strings murmuring and strumming. The contemplative and partially Debussian second and last movement includes an Andante misterioso which seems to wander in a trance through those countryside memories. The sound of the loon is quoted in this evocative movement (4:30 and 15:03). The co-commissioner of the Symphony was the Loon Preservation Society. The dialogue of woodwind and the steady dripping of harp hold the attention. The flute and oboe have a louche and jazzy character (12:46) over a pizzicato string backdrop. This develops into an episode which has the clarinet singing a Holstian melody which has something of the greensward about it (14:10). The rhapsodic curl of the woodwind solos resonates with Vaughan Williams - this time the Antarctica rather than the Tallis Fantasia. This is a most beautiful and naturally eloquent symphony. The grand Purcellian statements which are a Hovhaness watermark are here added silver livery by the harp’s expressive endowment. Over this grandeur the trumpet cries out in a further evocation of the loon.

The notes are helpful and specific - always valuable with Hovhaness – and add to the delights of this fine disc.

Naxos are in their element with the Hovhaness symphonies. Don't stop now; of a total of 67 there are plenty of unrecorded symphonies to tackle.

I cannot over-emphasise how attractive this music is. Hovhaness wrote in the 1960s of the importance of identifying our own kind of beauty. These three works bear him out completely.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

Hovhaness has found a strong advocate in Gerard Schwarz, and about time too. This prolific and at times prolix composer's music, with its expressively limited mixture of bell sounds, modal and Eastern harmonies, and simple counterpoint, can sound naïve and even irritating in large doses. What is so often missing from many performances is committed playing, giving the music the strength, beauty, and confidence that so often makes all the difference between "getting through the notes" and the quality of response that these pieces need and deserve. This disc, all premiere recordings, does the latter, and even if you dislike Hovhaness you might well be impressed by the results.

Khrimian Hairig is a short, pretty work for solo trumpet and strings much like the composer's Prayer of St. Gregory. It makes a very nice program opener even though it tells us nothing especially new. That certainly isn't true of the larger works. The Guitar Concerto must be numbered among the more successful works in its genre. It has all of the composer's hallmark fingerprints, but it also reveals an astutely judged understanding of how to pit such a weak-toned instrument against a large orchestra. In terms of color, texture, and contrast, the music is wholly beguiling and never overstays its welcome.

The same holds true for Symphony No. 60. At a bit more than half an hour, this is a long work for Hovhaness, but the inclusion of some American folk music makes an interesting contrast with his usual Eastern modes, while the four movements once again offer an unusually broad range of contrast and sonority. Best of all, the entire program is extremely well played, from guitarist David Leisner on up. This isn't difficult music technically, but it must never sound tired or lazy, and here it doesn't. The disc offers what in effect is an entire mini-concert--overture, concerto, and symphony--and you can listen to the whole thing straight through without fear of monotony. Sensitive and coherent notes by the late composer's wife add to the overall appeal, as does the excellent sound, particularly in the difficult-to-balance Guitar Concerto.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Three of Alan Hovhaness' six symphonies for wind ensemble are included on this Naxos release. After hearing these, I'm eagerly waiting for the label to get to the other three. All of the ensemble playing is flawless, the many solos are ravishingly beautiful, and conductor Keith Brion's grasp of the music results in performances I can't imagine being bettered, surpassing even the classic Mercury Living Presence recording by the late Frederick Fennell and the Eastman Wind Ensemble.


The symphonies are separated by two of the composer's works for trumpet and band, the solo part played by Scotland's great trumpeter John Wallace. He soars ecstatically above his colleagues in the Prayer of Saint Gregory, and his more varied part in Return and Rebuild the Desolate Places (the most aggressive music on the disc) achieves a threatening quality without ever losing beauty of tone.


Hovhaness' style is so distinctive, and his oeuvre so vast, that it's easy to tag him as having written the same piece over and over. And it is true that these works share many of the same elements: long, arching modal melodies, rich triadic harmonies laced with non-harmonic chiming notes, "spirit murmurs", and fluent, noble fugues. But there is enough difference in the inspiration of these works, and enough stylistic development, that you don't really get an impression of sameness. And there are many passages that haunt the memory: the flowing oboe and harp duet at the heart of the Fourth Symphony; the crossing trombone portamentos in the same work; the gorgeous fugue for all of the bell-like instruments in "Star Dawn"; the emergence from the frightening eruption that represents the "Desolate Places".


The recording was made in a church in Paisley, Scotland, and the venue contributes just the right mixture of spaciousness and intimacy to suit the music. If you are the sort of record collector who keeps alert for good new releases of unusual repertoire, this is a disc with the musical values and production quality that you always are hoping for. [1/4/2006]
--Joseph Stevenson, ClassicsToday.com

Making a welcome reappearance on CD, Symphony No. 22 "City of Light" contains some of Hovhaness' most extended thoughts, particularly in its extremely grand finale. The combination of elements is typical: sumptuous chorales, gentle dance music with an oriental flavor (particularly in the tiny Allegretto grazioso third movement), and imposing modal counterpoint. This performance originally appeared on Delos with a different coupling, and it's absolutely first rate in all respects.


The coupling, the only available recording of the early (1936) Cello Concerto, is new to CD and features the redoubtable Janos Starker as soloist. It's not a great work, but it is an extremely pleasant, interesting, even important one. All of the Hovhaness fingerprints that we observe in the symphony are also present in this piece. Two lengthy slow movements frame a very short central Allegro, and the 25-year-old composer's writing for the cello doesn't sound all that grateful to play--although the soloist does get a lot to do. But what makes this piece so fascinating, and so deserving of your attention, is the fact that it does everything that we expect of music by, say, Arvo Pärt or John Tavener, and yet it was composed nearly 70 years ago! Hearing this, it's no wonder Hovhaness is only just coming into his own, and it's a fitting historical irony that a composer once denigrated as backward looking should in fact turn out to be a prophet of important musical trends.


It's also worth noting that about two seconds of this piece sounds 10 times better than anything by "spiritual opportunists" such as Tavener. Yes, the outer movements go on too long, but as with most of Hovhaness' music, the results fall easily on the ear, and Starker, despite a couple of moments of iffy intonation toward the start of the work, plays eloquently. The sonics in both works are also first rate. It was certainly a coup for Naxos to secure this recording of the Cello Concerto, and listening to it is more than just enjoyable in and of itself: it's cause for reappraisal of Hovhaness' historical position, and it's a useful commentary on the work of some important contemporary musical voices. Do try to hear it.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com