Multi-award-winning violinist Kelly Hall-Tompkins is the entrepreneurial spirit behind Music Kitchen, the pioneering project that brings top classical music and musicians into homeless shelters, sharing the inspirational, therapeutic, and uplifting power of music with those experiencing homelessness. Founded in New York City, Music Kitchen has presented over 100 concerts to more than 30,000 homeless shelter clients coast to coast, including in Los Angeles, Cincinnati, Oakland, Rochester, and internationally in Paris, France. According to the New York Times, “The concerts have an air of authenticity and directness that sometimes does not exist in concert halls.”

Forgotten Voices is a song cycle commissioned by Music Kitchen – Food for the Soul, with support from Carnegie Hall, comprising works by 15 of today’s foremost composers featuring evocative and poignant texts by homeless shelter clients that have provided a profound source of inspiration and reverence. Forgotten Voices premiered to a sold-out Carnegie Hall audience in March 2022 and inspired a short film that has won multiple awards at festivals around the globe, including Winner: Best Cause-Driven Film and Finalist: Best Director and Best Documentary at the Cannes World Film Festival, Winner: Best Short Film at the Los Angeles Documentary Film Festival, and Winner: Best Short Documentary at the Berlin Indie Film Festival.

REVIEWS:

Violinist Kelly Hall-Tompkins is the entrepreneurial spirit behind Music Kitchen and the composer of one of the songs. She and 5 other string players, supply accompaniment to the 4 singers. I presume it is she who plays so nimbly in `Music Kitchen Interplay’ by Ellen Taaffe Zwilich with a text from a client who is amazed at what a violin can do and who gives thanks for how Music Kitchen “was a blessing to my hungry body and soul”.

The longest song of the album, Jeffrey Scott’s `Für Mein Vater’, is a setting of the poet’s fond remembrance of his father’s love of Mozart and Brahms, which was rekindled by hearing Music Kitchen perform it. It is sung sensitively by Allison Charney. Each time I listen to these songs I hear something new to like.

The program ends sublimely with Paul Moravec’s `Music is Love’. The words offer a strong statement about the values of this project and of music itself: “Music is love. It’s freedom, awakening. Music is universal. Music unites us all. Music expands our horizons. Classical music enables you to discover yourself.” After about a 20-second pause the song is repeated in a longer version for all four singers in harmony. I suspect this was sung as an encore at the concert. These final two tracks are especially lovely.

Each of the songs brings a message of gratitude or hope even in the midst of personal struggle. Collectively the album conveys consolation and the healing power of love. The songs call for excellent string playing, and these folks produce it brilliantly. The two sopranos sing with great expression and are especially poignant in their softer singing...Blumberg...begins the program with a tender reading of Steve Sandberg’s `Thank You’. Songs texts are included, though they are hardly needed—the singers’ diction is very clear most of the time. I find the songs appealing. I find the mission of Music Kitchen even more appealing.

-- American Record Guide

San Francisco-based early music ensemble Cantata Collective continues its major series of J. S. Bach’s choral works with the Mass in B Minor, a towering testament of sacred music and the composer’s crowning achievement of his final years. With celebrated conductor Nicholas McGegan, four of today’s most distinguished early music vocal soloists and a refined chamber choir, this live recording exudes a spontaneity that reveals the depth and passion of Bach’s glorious affirmation of faith.

REVIEW:

Some of the most impressive choral singing in this recording is heard in the central three choruses of the Symbolum Nicenum, the crowning glory and some of Bach’s best music in the entire Mass. The Cantata Collective’s choral forces shine in their expressive use of color and dynamic shading in the long arching lines of “Et incarnatus est” and “Crucifixus” and are able to hold their own in “Et resurrexit” — due, in part, to McGegan’s careful balancing and phrasing.

— EarlyMusicAmerica.org

Their third duo album on Signum Classics, husband and wife Alessio Bax and Lucille Chung unite to bring an album of French works by Debussy and Ravel in versions for piano duo and four hands. With arrangements by Dutilleux and Ravel himself key works include ‘Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune’ for four hands and La valse for two pianos.

Edward Elgar’s Cockaigne Overture portrays London at the turn of the 20th century as a pulsating world metropolis. Cheerful and colorful, it takes the listener on a stroll through the hustle and bustle of the city. Premiered in Manchester in 1908, Elgar’s Symphony No. 1 quickly found its way into the concert repertoire. His second and final symphony followed three years later. This is the second album from Alexander Soddy and the Mannheim National Theatre Orchestra, produced in cooperation with the Musikalische Akademie Mannheim.

In celebration of Earth Day, Cedille Records releases the world premiere recording of Stacy Garrop’s monumental oratorio Terra Nostra, “a spellbinding dive into the history of the planet” (Chicago Classical Review). Terra Nostra explores the relationship between humanity and Earth, and how humankind can re-establish a harmonious balance.

Stacy Garrop‘s music is characterized by its lyricism and vivid storytelling. She has been described by the Chicago Tribune as “one of Chicago’s most keenly sensitive composers” and praised by the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review for musicthat “excites the enthusiasm of performers and audiences alike,” while the Detroit Free Press remarks, “she has “asharp ear for instrumental color and narrative form: She can tell a story.” Declared an “oratorio that embraces the whole world” by the San Francisco Chronicle, Garrop’s tour de force is aninterconnected musical narrative presented in three parts: Creation of the World, The Rise of Humanity, and Searchingfor Balance. The multifarious text weaves together creation myths from India, North America, and Egypt, excerpts from the Bible’s Old Testament, classic poetry from Walt Whitman, Lord Byron, Lord Alfred Tennyson, Edna St. Vincent Millay, and contemporary writings by Esther Iverem and Wendell Berry, among others.

Terra Nostra is performed by soloists soprano Michelle Areyzaga, mezzo-soprano Leah Dexter, tenor Jesse Donner, and bass-baritone David Govertsen, the Northwestern University Symphony Orchestra & Chorale, Alice Millar Chapel Choir,
and Chicago’s Uniting Voices, all led by acclaimed conductor Stephen Alltop.

When more than 500,000 people gathered in New York's Central Park on 26 June 1993, they wanted to hear only one thing: The voice of the greatest tenor of the twentieth century: the voice of Luciano Pavarotti. A year earlier, Pavarotti had thrilled the crowds in London's Hyde Park - here, in New York, he confirmed once again that he is an undisputed world star. He is accompanied by the New York Philharmonic Orchestra under Leone Magiera, featuring the flutist Andrea Griminelli and The Boys Choir of Harlem, whose voices can be heard on albums of Michael Jackson, Kathleen Battle and many more. The recording of this concert, without doubt one of Pavarotti’s most celebrated performances, includes the famous Puccini arias Nessun dorma and E lucevan le stelle and Neapolitanian songs as 'O sole mio.' This legendary concert is now available for the first time on Blu-ray!

Antonio Lucio Vivaldi was born in Venice in 1678, in a period during which the cello was acquiring popularity in the world of concerts and an important role in musical entertainment. The Red Priest ennobled the soul of the cello. It gave him the inspiration for no less than twenty-seven concertos for solo cello, a concerto for cello and bassoon (rv 409 in E minor), another one for two cellos, string instruments and basso continuo (rv 531 in G minor), a considerable number of works with the indication “violoncello obbligato”, and nine sonatas for cello and basso continuo (in addition to the beginning of a tenth sonata which has been lost). For these works, musicological research has often placed the name of Vivaldi side by side with that of Antonio Vandini, whose six sonatas for cello and basso continuo have been recorded for Tactus by Bologna Baroque in 2018 (TC 692202). For the recording, we used two cellos of the Fondazione Orpheon that belong to Maestro Jose Vasquez: a cello of the Montagnana School (circa 1750) for the solo part and a Simone Cimapane from 1692 (that according to some written evidence had belonged to Arcangelo Corelli’s orchestra) for the basso continuo part.

The star of tenor John Matthew Myers is rapidly in the ascendent. His debut album, Desiderium, coincides with his Metropolitan Opera debut in Brett Dean’s Hamlet. Desiderium – “an ardent desire or longing, a feeling of loss or grief for something lost” – beautifully showcases Myers’ mellifluous voice.

His thoughtful program of works by American and American émigré composers opens with Samuel Barber’s yearning Knoxville: Summer of 1915 – rarely heard sung by a tenor – and transitions to Charles Griffes’ similarly searching settings of 3 Poems of Fiona Macleod, and Andre Previn’s 4 Songs for Tenor and Piano. What follows is A Letter from Sullivan Ballou, set to the words of a poignant letter by an American Civil War officer, by John Kander (of Kander and Ebb musical theatre fame). Rounding out the recital are 4 Walt Whitman Songs by German-born composer Kurt Weill, including the classic O Captain! My Captain! John Matthew Myers says, “Call me a big-hearted Romantic. Each song on this album conveys yearning, separation, loneliness or distance but also a sense of intimacy and longing for connection.” It certainly does. Desiderium is an auspicious debut album, and one especially attuned to our times.

REVIEW:

For his debut recital disc John Matthew Myers has chosen songs and groups of songs by five American composers, active during the 20th century. The common denominator is a feeling of loneliness, and it all stemmed from Barber’s Knoxville Summer of 1915, which is the only really well-known work in this album.

It goes without saying that the overriding mood is that of melancholy and gloom, but the texts and the musical expressions differ greatly, which vouches for a varied program. Barber’s Knoxville was composed in 1947 for a high voice and orchestra, and has almost exclusively been soprano territory. Since James Agee’s dream-like prose poem from 1938 is written in the persona of a 5-year-old male child, it’s logical to have it performed by a tenor. John Matthew Myers sings the many lyrical sections with soft beautiful tone, but he is also apt at expressing the desperation and sorrow in the work's crucial lines. It is a deeply felt reading.

Composed in 1918 The three Griffes songs, to poems by Fiona Macleod (William Field), were orchestrated in 1919. Like Barber’s Knoxville the orchestration has an attractive colouring that the piano cannot measure up to, but still it has its own attraction, and since it is the original it’s valid and gives the music a more intimate image, more chamber music like. I am happy to have both versions in so convincing readings.

I must say that André Previn’s 4 Songs for Tenor and Piano is a harder nut to crack. Composed in 2004 they are dressed in a rather knotty harmonic language. The mood is gloomy, also in the up-tempo last song, The Revelation. I believe that repeated listening might open them up, but at present I must content myself with admitting that the singing and playing are of the highest order. As far as I have been able to find out, this is a first recording, even though the liner notes don’t specifically say so.

The setting for John Kander’s A Letter from Sullivan Ballou, a major in the Civil War, is wonderful and gripping. John Kander is known, at least to Broadway musical enthusiasts, for his collaboration with Fred Ebb in Cabaret, Chicago, and other Broadway successes. Here, in a quite different vein, he catches all the shifts and nuances of the letter so sensitively. There are certainly echoes from his musical background, which in no way is a drawback. John Matthew Myers reading is appropriately sensitive.

The Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941 triggered Kurt Weill to set three of the Walt Whitman poems recorded here. He “structured the original three as a gradual decrescendo of militarism from the bullish opening to the wistful intensity of the final dirge”, as Julian Haylock says in his notes. Five years later he added Come Up from the Fields, Father, which here is placed third in the suite. Weill was a great admirer of Whitman, and said as early as 1926 that he was “the first truly original poetic talent to grow out of American soil.” The music is warlike and sturdy in the first song, reminding me of his style in the 1920s, the second song is a funeral march, and the whole suite – I wouldn’t call it a cycle – is deeply engaging.

John Matthew Myers can feel satisfied with his debut album, and he is excellently supported by Myra Huang’s accompaniment.

-- MusicWeb International (Göran Forsling)

Stephane Gallande: A few years ago, the musicians in this band and I began a specific practice on unusual mixes of rhythmic ideas, inspired by traditions from various parts of the world, with the intention of integrating them until they became a personal vocabulary and means of expression. The result is on this album.

The award-winning Dutch composer and bass clarinet player Joris Roelofs is also currently working on a PhD dissertation on Friedrich Nietzsche, improvisation and the notion of freedom. On the album Rope Dance he is able to combine all of this, in a suite of twelve pieces inspired by Nietzsche – ‘by far the most musical of philosophers’ according to Roelofs. It is especially the parable of the tightrope walker in the opening section of ‘Thus Spoke Zarathustra: A Book for All and None’ that has provided him with inspiration for his own ‘Light-Footed Music for All and None’. It is not surprising that Nietzsche’s thoughts about free spirits, liberated from conventional constraints and belief systems, resonate particularly well with musicians working with improvisation and across genres. Roelofs has therefore been able to gather a group of highly versatile colleagues from the Benelux jazz scene to perform his music: pianist Bram de Looze, bass player Clemens van der Feen and Martijn Vink on drums. The album also confirms the multi-faceted talents of bassoonist Bram van Sambeek, following previous recordings on BIS of classical, pre-Romantic and contemporary concertos, as well as hard rock covers with the group ORBI (the Oscillating Revenge of the Background Instruments).

The Stockholm Syndrome Ensemble is – as the name implies – based in Stockholm, and consists of five of the city's leading musicians. Project-based and often inviting guest performers, the SSE is known for its imaginative programmes built around a particular event or concept and bringing together music from various genres and eras. For its first release on BIS the ensemble has taken Brett Dean’s Voices of Angels as their point of departure, a work scored for the same forces as Schubert’s ‘Trout quintet’ and inspired by Rainer Maria Rilke’s first two Duino Elegies: ‘Angels (it’s said) are often unable to tell whether they move amongst the living or the dead.’ Dean’s work from 1996 opens a programme which ranges from Bach to Sofia Gubaidulina, and includes various scorings for between two and six performers. The angels reappear in songs by Wagner and Gubaidulina performed by Christianne Stotijn, one of the ensemble’s guests on this disc – but it is also safe to assume that they are standing around the heavenly throne which Bach approaches in the chorale prelude ‘Vor Deinen Thron tret ich hiermit’ – here transcribed for strings. The same prelude is the subject of Gubaidulina’s Meditation, while the disc closes with a work by Gubaidulina’s friend Alfred Schnittke, namely his Hymn for cello and double bass.

On this transatlantic album, three American composers born during the first half of the last century rub shoulders with two young musicians from Eastern Europe. A member of the BBC New Generation Artists scheme, the violinist Aleksey Semenenko first met the pianist Artem Belogurov at the Stolyarsky Special Music School in Odessa at an early age. Even if their individual careers have taken to different parts of the world, the two still perform together whenever possible, and here they present three sonatas. Of the composers, the best-known is André Previn who composed his Violin Sonata No. 2 in 2011 for Anne-Sophie Mutter. An improvisatory spirit permeates the work which is in three movements with the markings Joyous, Desolate and Brilliant. Tony Schemmer and Paul Gay are both based in the Boston area and share a background in which jazz and classical genres merge. This is reflected in their sonatas, composed in the 1980s and here appearing on disc for the first time.

REVIEWS:

My tastes in repertoire generally stop with the mid-20th century and I don’t take an active interest in contemporary work. Perhaps that very fact indicates why I responded so favorably to Crossroads: American Violin Sonatas, for here are three composers—two of them still living—who continue the craftsmanship, seriousness of purpose, and tonal communicativeness of the best mid-20th-century American music. These sonatas offer no Postmodern spoofery, nor avant-garde aural assaults. All three composers deftly mix popular elements with their classical technique yet in a way that is integral and natural.

The performances of the Ukrainian musicians are faultless and idiomatic, as is the recorded sound. This delightful disc afforded some new discoveries for me and comes strongly recommended.

-- Fanfare

Semenenko and his duo partner present premiere recordings of jazz-influenced sonatas written in the 1980s. The Schemmer is a particularly joyful discovery.

-- BBC Music Magazine

Composed in feverish bouts interrupted by long periods of inaction, Hugo Wolf’s Italienisches Liederbuch was brought to completion in 1896. The 46 songs are settings of poems in German by Paul Heyse, after Italian folk songs – miniatures with a duration of less than 2 minutes in most cases. Heyse’s collection numbered more than 350 poems, but Wolf ignored the ballads and laments, and concentrated almost exclusively on the rispetti. These are short love poems which chart, against a Tuscan landscape, the everyday jealousies, flirtations, joys and despairs of men and women in love. Heyse’s translations often intensify the simple Italian of the original poems, and in their turn, Wolf’s settings represent a further heightening of emotion. Miniatures they may be, but many of the songs strike unforgettably at the heart. When Wolf’s songbook is performed in its entirety, it is usually done by a male and a female singer, although this is not specified in the score. It is not uncommon for them to be transposed, but the songs are written for high voices, and are here performed by a soprano and a tenor – Carolyn Sampson and Alan Clayton – with Joseph Middleton at the piano. The performers have chosen to present the songs in the order they appear in the printed collection, dividing them between themselves.

REVIEWS:

The Italian Songbook consists of two groups of songs. The first group, consisting of 22 songs, was set in 1890 – 1891 and the second group with 24 songs in 1896. Strictly speaking it isn’t a cycle, and in some recordings the interpreters have opted for their personal order of the songs, but many stick to the order in which Wolf published them, and this is also the case with the present issue. The two singers are well-matched. Carolyn Sampson has been an avid advocate for baroque music for many years, but she has also ventured into art songs...Tenor Allan Clayton‘s career has focused on opera – his Peter Grimes at Covent Garden recently was a resounding triumph – but he has also frequently given song recitals...So, I had high expectations when I set to work with this disc.

The first thing I observed was the sensitive playing of Joseph Middleton, pliable and perceptive. Secondly I noted Carolyn Sampson’s girlish tone in Auch kleine Dinge, and her soft and inward reading. This was a recurrent feature throughout the programme.

When Allan Clayton made his entrance, he at once convinced me: here he displayed his armoury of nuances that had enthralled me on the Liszt disc, his beautiful pianissimo – listen to the end of Gesegnet sei (tr. 4) or the mastery half-voice in Der Mond hat eine schwere Klag’ erhoben – but on the reverse side of the coin his dramatic capacity was just as telling: Wenn du mich mit den Augen streifst und lachst (tr. 38) is just one instance. And Carolyn Sampson has the same sense for drama: so agitated and energetic in Wer rief dich denn? (tr. 6). Looking back on my notes, I see that the pad is littered with positive remarks and exclamation marks, but printing them here would surely be rather tiresome reading – and I rather leave it to those who buy the disc to find all the felicities these two well-endowed Liedersänger indulge in. The prestige word for all singing of Lieder is nuances, and from the above I believe that readers have understood that Carolyn Sampson and Allan Clayton are masterly in that respect.

How do they stand up against the competition from other recordings? Very well, I would say...Sampson and Clayton are certainly among the top contenders.

-- MusicWeb International

It was in 1842, his ‘year of chamber music’ that Robert Schumann took on the combination of violin, cello and piano for the first time. He seems to have decided against releasing the resulting Fantasiestücke as a fully-fledged piano trio, however, but later returned to the work, revising it for publication in 1850. The model here is not the large-scale, quasi-symphonic trios of Beethoven or Schubert – instead Haydn’s characteristic trio textures spring to mind, especially in the first two movements where the cello largely follows the piano’s left-hand bass line. By the time the Fantasiestücke was published, Schumann had already written two ‘proper’ piano trios, No. 1 in D minor and No. 2 in F major. According to the composer the second of these ‘makes a friendlier and more immediate impression’ but it is in fact the D minor trio that has long been the more popular: passionate, mainly extrovert and bursting with fine thematic material it is the easiest to grasp on one hearing. Both works are filled to capacity with imitative writing, sometimes conspicuously so but often subtly as if on a subconscious level – an aspect that the members of the Kungsbacka Piano Trio, with more than 20 years of playing together, are able to make the most of.

For his new recital disc, the acclaimed Finnish guitarist Ismo Eskelinen had the aim of creating a programme that works like a story: ‘a modern guitar album that lends itself to continuous listening from beginning to end’. The pieces that he has selected are united by the fact that, with the exception of Tan Dun, Eskelinen has collaborated closely with all the composers. In the liner notes to the album he expresses his admiration for how intuitively they all understood the essence of the guitar, even though none of them is a guitarist. ‘Everyone has found a unique way to bring his own musical style to the guitar, and each of the composers is clearly recognizable.’ Opening the album are Kromos by Sebastian Fagerlund and Solo XI by Kalevi Aho, two pieces that in technical terms come close to the limits of what is possible on the guitar, but with a completely convincing musical logic. Olli Mustonen’s Sonata No. 2 contains drama but also lyricism, qualities which are emphasized in Tan Dun’s multi-movement collage Seven Desires with inspiration from the different traditions and characteristics of Spain’s flamenco guitar and China’s pipa (lute). Jukka Tiensuu is among the pioneers of modern Finnish guitar music and wrote his first work for the instrument as early as 1974. His Daydreams from 2016 is composed for guitar and electronics, but the sound world is strongly guitaristic, as the electronic part is modified from fragments played by Eskelinen on the guitar. Sometimes the use of electronics produces echo effects alongside the live guitar, and sometimes the sound image expands into that of a guitar trio. The very brief closing number is an arrangement, by Eskelinen himself, of Timo Alakotila’s calm and soothing Psalm.

Since its premiere in Prague in 1890, Dvořák’s Eighth Symphony has become one of the composer’s most-performed works. Josef Suk, Dvořák’s son-in-law and student-is obviously influenced by Dvořák, but displays his compositional skills in his own right in his Serenade for Strings. Consistently praised for his interpretation of Slavic music, Mariss Jansons conducts the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks in this live recording.

REVIEW

This disc contains three very fine performances and I thoroughly enjoyed it all. The BR Klassik recording is very good indeed. I’ve come to expect clarity and very pleasing, natural sound from this label and this latest disc is another excellent example of their work.

--MusicWeb International (John Quinn)

Born in Prague in 1979, the composer, conductor and chorus master Ondrej Adámek, who studied in his Czech hometown and in Paris, has already won numerous prestigious awards for his orchestral, chamber, vocal and electro-acoustic music. In his musical language, which also repeatedly incorporates elements of distant cultures, he creates unusual musical narratives. He seeks the authenticity of his interpretations by combining voices and movements, gestures and theatricality, phonetic and semantic aspects, and his own specially developed musical instruments. The premieres of Ondrej Adámek's "Where are You?" and "Follow me" were distinctive for their excellent casts, featuring stars such as Magdalena Kožená, Isabelle Faust and Simon Rattle. In Adámek’s "Follow me", a three-movement concerto for violin and orchestra, the melodies are divided between the soloist and the orchestra along the lines of the late medieval hocket technique, whereby the composer seeks to connect a single individual with a (human) crowd. The first performance of Adámek’s "Where are You?" for mezzo-soprano and orchestra was an outstanding event in Munich's concert programme this year. In the eleven-part, approximately 35-minute-long kaleidoscope of sound, dominated by constant motoric movement – ranging from everyday sounds such as the monotonous ticking of a clock to the sweeping, electrifyingly rhythmic pounding of the orchestra tutti – the composer embarks on a search for the human ("Where do we come from and where are we going?") and the divine.

Review

This is music that grabs the listener by the ears and doesn’t let go. I found it completely exhilarating.

Nothing about either score included on this recording is remotely derivative or even predictable. If I were to say that it is as if Adámek had smashed up all previous music into tiny pieces and then reconstructed them into something marvellous and new, that might give the impression that he is some kind of arch post modernist. He is nothing of the sort. Almost miraculously he manages to be both uncompromisingly modernist and yet intensely communicative. Try his setting of what, in effect amounts to St Theresa’s ecstatic, religious orgasm in the seventh song of Where Are You? and what you’ll get is music that verges on the demented but which manages to be deeply spiritual and very sexy! Both scores are full of such wild, rude, exultant moments.

Follow Me is simultaneously a violin concerto and someone having a lot of fun with what a violin concerto might mean. I am not aware of another concerto that concludes with what amounts to a musical lynching of the soloist by the orchestra. One of the characteristics of Adámek’s writing is his absolute command of even the most outré material. Every note delivers an aural punch. He is of course capable of writing music of great delicacy, as in the concerto’s Bach derived slow movement but even here every note makes its point.

The opening movement features orchestral soloists echoing the opening phrases by the solo violin (the ‘follow me’ of the work’s title), phrases the composer explains in his joyous, quixotic note that were inspired by the exaggerated vibrato of a singer in Japanese Noh theatre. The orchestra, in a sense, gathers round the soloist, repeating her phrases. Isabelle Faust is at her imperious best here. This then subsides into silence before the soloist starts again with more seductive phrases. As Adámek puts it, these phrases provoke the orchestra “eventually driving them mad”. This builds and builds as the various motifs combine and recombine. The tension generated by the gradually gathering of tempo and volume is quite ferocious before Adámek pulls the rug from under the expected eruption and the movement ends with weird whistlings and scrapings out of which the slow movement evolves. A great strength of Adámek’s music is to unsettle the listener whilst keeping them on the edge of their seat.

One of the unifying techniques across all three movements of this concerto is what Adámek likens to a kind of musical ping pong where melodies are split, in alternate notes, between soloist and members of the orchestra. This effect plus an extreme elongation of material taken from Bach is most noticeable in this slow movement. It is a strange and mysterious movement that subsides into the uneasy calm from it emerged.

On a purely technical level, the finale combines all the elements of the previous two movements but that scarcely does justice to the effect it has on the listener. The shadowing of the soloist which gives the work its title is allowed finally to work its way from a hushed, fugitive opening all the way to the mighty climax that the opening movement was robbed of. As in that movement, the following of the soloist by the orchestra becomes more combative- a wry nod I think to the lion taming tradition of the 19^th century virtuoso concerto – and the music, dominated by a rogue trombone, constantly threatens to swamp the soloist whose final phrases are delivered off stage before a final thrilling orchestral stampede rounds things off. Is that a tongue in cheek reference to the final sacrificial dance of the Rite of Spring I hear in this final passage? What this description may not capture is that this is all immensely diverting and colossal fun. The world of Adámek’s music may be capable of great seriousness but it never takes itself too seriously.

Follow Me is, in many ways, the curtain raiser for the even more remarkable Where Are You? My earlier comments have probably already given some indication of what it is like. Written for mezzo soprano and orchestra, it is a song cycle on spiritual themes with texts from the Bible, the Gita and the autobiography of St Theresa. None of this is handled in a conventional manner. The opening section revels in the vowel sounds of the opening line of the Lord’s Prayer in Aramaic. A later movement sets possible Czech translations of those Aramaic words. It’s that sort of piece! The theme that unites these disparate elements is the way in which the spiritual quest for the divine however how high it can raise us comes down to earth with the question ‘Where are you?’ left unanswered. It has to be said that the piece celebrates the quest as much as it illustrates its ultimate failure and it does so with affection and good humour as well as profundity and anguish.

The vocalist is required to adopt a huge range of singing styles from breaths and rolled r’s to folk singing to outrageous coloratura. As in most of his other scores that I’ve heard, Adámek can find music in almost anything and make no mistake – this is a musical event above all else. The composer isn’t advancing some obscure musicological idea but making maddening, frenzied, bewildering, exuberant music. Ultimately, like the spiritual quest it describes, words fail to do justice to this piece. You are just going to have to listen to it.

--MusicWeb International (David McDade)