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Penderecki: Horn & Violin Concertos, Etc / Kelemen, Vlatkovic, Dworzynski, LPO
LPO · Feb 2020CD$15.99 -
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Britten: The Rape Of Lucretia / Ainsley, Boylan, Bayley, Melrose, Maltman [blu-ray]
Opus Arte · Jan 2014Blu-Ray$45.99 -
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Orff: Ein Sommernachtstraum / Von Gehren, Andechser Orff-Akademie Des Munchner RO
CPO · Jul 2011CD$36.99 -
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PianOrchestra 2 / Poizat
Prior to the age of mechanical reproduction, music lovers had two primary ways in which to enjoy music: they could attend concerts, which was fraught with difficulties due to the dilapidated state of the road system and lack of transportation methods, or they could make music themselves, giving rise to the tradition of the house concert during the 19th and the first half of the 20th century. The increase in importance and popularity of Hausmusik was enabled by rapid technical advancements in the development of the piano. Composers and virtuosos created an ever-increasing number of transcriptions and arrangements for piano two or four hands with the intention of making them available to a wider audience. This recording presents a selection of arrangements of orchestral works for piano solo, arranged specifically for this purpose, by composers Bedrich Smetana, Igor Stravinsky, Sergei Prokofiev, Maurice Ravel, and Aram Khachaturian. New York-based French-Swiss pianist Francois-Xavier Poizat provides a wealth of tone colors while exploiting the virtuosic capabilities of the piano to its limits.
Schelb: Violin Sonatas
Tales of Light and Darkness
Bach: The Brandenburg Concertos & Ouvertures / Bernardini, Zefiro
While pursuing its constant search for music to study and rediscover, Zefiro undertook another important challenge by recording, in 2017 and 2015 respectively, the Brandenburg Concertos and Overtures, two pinnacles of the 18th-century instrumental literature. For this project Alfredo Bernardini waited until he could count on a select band of musicians who were not only in a perfect symbiosis of spirit and intent, but also equipped with the indispensable virtuosity and long-standing familiarity with the works. Thanks to the historical insight and human energy displayed by the ensemble, the interpretative results are both vivid and profoundly moving.
The recordings acquired not only prestigious awards such as Gramophone’s Editor’s Choice, Diapason d’or, Choc de Classica and Toccata’s CD of the month, but also specific acknowledgements for Overtures nos. 3 (France Musique) and 4 (SRF 2 Kultur), judged to be the best-ever versions. After being out of the catalogue for some time, they are now gathered together for the first time in an elegant box set.
Reznicek: Donna Diana / Windfuhr, Et Al
Perin--a wonderful role for high baritone--is a wise-fool figure, Don Cesar's friend, who gives advice, puts the play in action, and is more-or-less omnipresent. About a half-hour before the opera's close (the whole work is just short of two hours long) he lets us know that he'd also like a lady friend for himself. He's a delightfully three-dimensional character, and Simon Pauly sings him with remarkable "face" and engaging tone. His duet with Don Cesar near the beginning of the show is splendid, and both he and tenor Roman Sadnik paint indelible portraits of themselves right then and there. The duet, which is grand and grandly orchestrated, ending with a blazing high-C from Sadnik against a slightly too-loud orchestra, sets the tone for the work's forward propulsion and great energy. They and the other players sing off the text brilliantly, and while there are few beautiful voices to be heard, each is distinctive and is used with great theatricality. This live performance really moves.
There are three other pairs of lovers: Don Louis and Donna Laura, Don Gaston and Donna Fenisa, and a surprise in the very sharp Floretta, Diana's foster-sister, who turns out to be just right for Perin. Including Don Diego, then, there are nine characters, and Reznicek writes for them all individually and in ensemble, and always with specificity. The vaguely goofy tone that tends to be present in the comic operas of the earlier Italian composers is entirely missing here, and to very good effect.
The entire cast, well-rehearsed and utterly committed, does itself proud. In addition to Sadnik and Pauly, most impressive is Manuela Uhl as Donna Diana. She captures the girl's haughtiness, while in asides she exhibits a softer side. And as pure singing, she shines as well: in recent recordings of Alfano's Cyrano de Bergerac and Strauss' Die Liebe der Danae she has moments of rawness, but here she seems more frequently at home, and her Moorish Romanza in Act 2 is lovely. Max Wittges has just the commanding bass for Don Diego and mezzo Anne-Carolyn Schlüter presents a self-contained portrait of the standing-back-from-the-crowd Floretta. The rest of the cast, chorus, and Kiel Orchestra--the latter with a brass section any orchestra would be proud of--are polished and should be pleased with their fine work. The sound is excellent despite the intermittent tendency of conductor Ulrich Windfuhr to throw the balance toward the orchestra. It wouldn't surprise me if this recording (and the earlier one of Ritter Blaubart) began a Reznicek rediscovery. Seeing either opera live must be a real treat. [2/8/2005]
--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com
Unstatic
The cover art for Manu Katché’s excellent new disc is somewhat misleading. It depicts the drummer alone, thrashing away at his kit, but Unstatic is, at heart, an accomplished team effort, crafted by a cohesive ensemble. Katché takes the spotlight here not with flashy rhythm patterns but with his compositional acumen and outstanding leadership. He wrote all 11 tunes, most of which are quintet or sextet arrangements, with exemplary trombonist Nils Landgren playing on five tracks. Katché seems to have composed these songs with specific instrumentation in mind, as evidenced by the gentle, nuanced dialogs by pianist Jim Watson and saxophonist Tore Brunborg that open “Blossom” and “Daze Days.” Those two numbers illustrate Katché’s ability to create accessible material that will appeal to smooth-jazz fans and devotees of straightahead jazz. Indeed, he’s a skillful balladeer, but he’s just as accomplished as a groove merchant. The track “City” offers a hip-swaying groove with a touch of light funk, resulting in a head-bobber that’s peppered with a potent motif from trumpeter Luca Aquino. Katché is acutely sensitive to the narrative arc of this 51-minute program. He is also keenly aware of the ebb and flow of musical intensity, which he intentionally dials down at the album’s midpoint before building it back up with simmering flare on the eighth track, “Ride Me Up.” On the album’s final track, Katché offers a charming, spoken-word introduction of his bandmates. The French drummer has won tremendous respect as a sideman for Sting, Peter Gabriel and Joni Mitchell, but with Unstatic, Katché shows that a generosity of spirit can help a fine accompanist become a great leader. - DownBeat Magazine Editors' Pick
Penderecki: Horn & Violin Concertos, Etc / Kelemen, Vlatkovic, Dworzynski, LPO
“The LPO string-players vividly felt the music’s pain. They don’t write music like that anymore” - Classical Source on Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima, 14 October 2015
This is the first release of works by Krzysztof Penderecki on the LPO Label. The Orchestra has had a long relationship with Krzysztof Penderecki as both a composer and a conductor, regularly performing his works at Royal Festival Hall.
The Adagio for Strings and Horn Concerto on this album, both conducted by the composer, are recordings of the UK premiere performances.
Krzysztof Penderecki wrote the Horn Concerto specifically for soloist Radovan Vlatkovic. The Guardian described this performance as impressive, and having a “disquieting, at times savage beauty,” while The Telegraph called it “fantastically fluent” with “genuinely entrancing [moments].”
This is also the first release on the LPO Label featuring conductor Micha? Dworzynski. He is renowned as a great champion of music by Polish composers. His interpretation of the Violin Concerto was praised by The Guardian for capturing “the work’s fraught, tightly bound texture and the imploded lyricism of its constantly evolving melodic material.”
Violinist Barnabás Kelemen’s performance in the Violin Concerto was widely praised. Bachtrack said he “[married] brilliant virtuosity to deep expressiveness. Whether racing through leaping runs or holding eye-wateringly high notes, his tone never faltered.”
The Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima is an iconic work by Penderecki which received the UNESCO Prize in 1961. On its dedication to Hiroshima, Penderecki wrote “May this threnody express my deep belief that the sacrifice of Hiroshima will never be forgotten and lost, and Hiroshima will become a symbol of brotherhood between people of good will.”
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REVIEW:
All the works here, except the First Violin Concerto, are conducted by Penderecki himself, so hearing them with the LPO in the Festival Hall immediately makes this a special document, and it is a fascinating compilation of the orchestra’s performances of his music in recent years. The LPO is consistently excellent throughout.
– Choir & Organ
Galuppi: Sonatas for Harpsichord / Alvise de Piero
172 pieces, 400 movements, 3, or more, compositional decades: those are the main features at the basis of the corpus of the keyboard Sonatas of Baldassare Galuppi, known as “il Buranello”. The indeterminacy of a specific instrument and the cultural influence of several European countries give to his music a heterogeneous character both in formal and stylistic terms, following that movement of ideas so typical among the best composers of the time. The Sonatas included in this Album come from different manuscripts and their musical language seems almost a sampler of Buranello’s different compositional modes.
Monferrato: Motetti a voce sola, libro primo, Op. 4
Beethoven: Piano Sonatas Nos. 11-13, 15, 22 & 27 / Mari Kodama
REVIEW:
I specifically asked to review this release after receiving Mari Kodama’s previous album of Beethoven’s last three sonatas and giving it a warm welcome in 36:2. Prior to that, I’d not heard any of her earlier Beethoven releases but was sufficiently impressed by the last one to want to hear more of it. I freely acknowledge that not all my colleagues who have reviewed one or another entry in Kodama’s survey of the sonatas have been equally enthusiastic, but how dull would be if we all agreed?
Save for two sonatas, Nos. 28 and 29, the “Hammerklavier,” Kodama’s Beethoven sonata cycle is complete, and according to PentaTone’s official website, those two sonatas are scheduled for release in August, whereupon I’m sure the company will endear itself to everyone who has collected the individual discs by reissuing them in a boxed set. Here on two SACDs we have six sonatas in seemingly no particular order, either numerically or chronologically.
In general, I continue to like Kodama’s way with these works, but as suggested in my previous review, the pianist is not necessarily in touch with every sonata or every movement thereof equally. Who is? Technical mastery is never in question, but Kodama tends to be more responsive to the long line and the lyrical impulses in the music than she is to the high drama or moments of capricious quirkiness. Where, for example, Beethoven gives Kodama a menuetto instead of a scherzo and an easygoing rondo to play, as in the third and fourth movements of the B- flat Major Sonata, the pianist performs with limpid touch, fluent phrasing, and singing tone. But in a movement like the scherzo from the A-flat Major Sonata, I think she’s a bit too straight-laced, missing some of the humor of the off-beat accents.
On the other hand, Kodama hits the nail on the head in the all-but-name scherzo from the E-flat-Major Sonata. And Kodama delivers all the sonatas’ slow movements with graceful and eloquent expression.
Will Mari Kodama’s Beethoven cycle go down in history as one of the all-time greats? My guess would be probably not. But from what I’ve heard of it so far, I’d judge it to be very, very good, and I can’t imagine anyone who invests in these gorgeously recorded PentaTone SACDs being disappointed. Before snapping up this latest two-disc release, however, I’d counsel patience, for sooner or later, the complete cycle is bound to be made available as a boxed set. But whether you choose to buy now or later, Kodama’s Beethoven, with the minor reservations mentioned, is recommended.
- FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Imagique - A Different History of Music
Live at Singer Concert Hall 1973 / Dizzy Gillespie
RADIANT DAWN
Monteverdi: Vespro della Beata Vergine
MAY 99
Britten: The Rape Of Lucretia / Ainsley, Boylan, Bayley, Melrose, Maltman [blu-ray]
Also available on standard DVD
Benjamin Britten
THE RAPE OF LUCRETIA
(Blu-ray Disc Version)
Lucretia – Sarah Connolly
Tarquinius – Christopher Maltman
Bianca – Catherine Wyn-Rogers
Lucia – Mary Nelson
Junius – Leigh Melrose
Collatinus – Clive Bayley
Female Chorus – Orla Boylan
Male Chorus – John Mark Ainsley
English National Opera Orchestra
Paul Daniel, conductor
David McVicar, stage director
Recorded live at the Aldeburgh Festival, The Maltings, Snape, 2001
Bonus:
- Cast gallery
Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Japanese, Korean
Running time: 120 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)
R E V I E W:
BRITTEN The Rape of Lucretia • Paul Daniel, cond; Sarah Connolly (Lucretia); Christopher Maltman (Tarquinius); John Mark Ainsley (Male Chorus); Orla Boylan (Female Chorus); Clive Bayley (Collatinus); Leigh Melrose (Junius); Catherine Wyn-Rogers (Bianca); Mary Nelson (Lucia); O of the English Natl Op • OPUS ARTE 7135 (Blu-ray: 120:00) Live: Aldeburgh 6/2001
Premiered at Glyndebourne in July of 1946, The Rape of Lucretia was Britten’s first stage work after Peter Grimes, and the first he called a “chamber opera.” It was composed for just eight singers and a chamber ensemble of 12 instrumentalists, but a good performance of Lucretia packs at least as much of an emotional wallop as Peter Grimes or Billy Budd, and this performance is indeed a good one. A mood of dread and tense expectation is established in the opening scene for the Roman generals—Collatinus, Junius, and the depraved Tarquinius—that hardly lets up for the entire work. Four of the singes are truly top-notch: John Mark Ainsley and Orla Boylan as the Male and Female Chorus, Sarah Connolly in the title role, and Christopher Maltman (officially a “Barihunk,” who gets to take his shirt off for the rape scene) portraying Tarquinius. The other singers also cover their roles quite effectively. For example, the peaceful oasis in act I, scene 2, where the servants Bianca and Lucia wordlessly accompany the Female Chorus, is especially lovely.
As is frequently the case for this artist, stage director David McVicar questions, clarifies, and reconsiders. In a brief “Extra Feature,” McVicar explains that he actively rebelled against Britten’s specific instructions that the Male and Female Chorus should comment on the action, but not participate in it. Here, the two interact on stage with the other six singers, which makes the production considerably more theatrical and much less stylized. One reason, McVicar offers, is that Lucretia’s relationship with the Female Chorus can counter the typical “objectification” of the character—we can more easily understand her as something other than a sexual target. Lucretia’s costume is almost frumpish; she’s no fancier in her dress than her servants. She sports a plain, short hairstyle and wears very little jewelry. This wife of a powerful Roman general is certainly no temptress. This effort to de-glamorize the character may further confuse the already confused matter as to why Lucretia feels any sense of blame for her violation, why she won’t accept her husband’s absolution and kills herself. McVicar doesn’t seem to have much trouble with the opera’s “Christian” epilog, which was added (perhaps, it’s been said, at the urging of Peter Pears) to soften the harsh tragedy of Lucretia’s death by invoking the suffering and sacrifice of Christ. The director reminds us that the work was introduced just following World War II, when the world was attempting to come to grips with the senseless horror of the Holocaust. But a listener certainly won’t feel warm and fuzzy after the final blackout: This production maintains plenty of the moral ambiguity inherent to the score and libretto.
In keeping with the modest musical forces employed, Yannis Thavoris’s set and costume design is simple, attempting no profound commentary of its own. The recorded sound is good, with excellent detail to reveal Britten’s imaginative use of the small orchestra. Subtitle choices are English, French, German, Japanese, and Korean.
FANFARE: Andrew Quint
The Virtuoso ophicleide
Komitas: Piano & Chamber Music / Ayrapetyan, Sergeev
Komitas was one of the first Armenian musicians to undergo classical Western musical training, in Berlin, in addition to music education in his own country. He published both folksong collections and writings on Armenian church melodies, and his work laid the foundations for the development of a clearly defined national musical style. The Seven Folk Dances evoke the specific timbres of Armenian instruments, the Seven Songs for Piano are fleeting and lyrical while the Twelve Children’s Pieces based on folk-themes are beautifully crisp. Msho-Shoror is one of the most ancient of all Armenian dances.
REVIEW:
These days the most widely known Armenian composers are probably Khatchaturyan and Babajanian but, if you want to hear music that really evokes the scenery, people and cultural heritage of Armenia, look for the works of Komitas – a composer generally regarded as the founder of the Armenian national school of music.
...it is difficult to imagine a specific piano and acoustic better suited to performance of this music and, unless finding this was achieved purely by luck (which I doubt) the search must have taken somebody - probably Mikael Ayrapetyan himself - considerable effort. Whoever it was the results do him much credit.
The last seven pieces were not intended as a set – but composed individually during the period 1899 to 1911 and arranged here for violin and piano by four Armenian composers (including two who were founder members of the Komitas Quartet, referred to above). These are all beautifully and atmospherically played here by Ayrapetyan and a Russian violinist who seems to have a considerable affinity for the Armenian style (although his performance of ‘The Apricot Tree’, which comes third, does not quite displace that of Chilingirian in my affections). Several of these pieces have been arranged for other combinations but they work very well on violin and piano.
Booklet notes are excellent and in English and German. The only problem with this CD is that attempting to listen to all the piano music together is rather too much of a good thing. Interesting though the pieces are, ideally one needs rather greater instrumental variety and it would have been preferable to have the violin and piano pieces spread throughout the disc rather than collected at the end. Perhaps this can most easily be achieved if your CD player allows for random track sequence or programming. At any rate, it is not much of a problem and I can strongly recommend exploring this illuminating and beautifully recorded disc.
-- MusicWeb International
Beethoven, Haydn & Mozart: Confidenze
Bach: Cantatas Vol 21 / Suzuki, Bach Collegium Japan
Some general notes: after Maestro Suzuki himself, the closest thing to a constant in the series remains Peter Kooij’s steady bass. The leading soprano is now Yukari Nonoshita, whose clear, near white tone is entirely appropriate for Bach’s music. Tenors come and go; note that four different tenors, all satisfactory, appear on these four discs. Suzuki continues to alternate between male or female altos depending on the specific task at hand. The soloists participate in the chorus but do not sing alone. Western names have become quite rare in the list of performers, with Japanese musicians handling most parts, vocal and instrumental, with their by-now-accustomed excellence. The notes remain exemplary, but Klaus Hofmann now shares that task with Suzuki, whose function is generally to explain his decisions regarding problems with the performing editions. As always, BIS’s recordings are first-rate.
I thought I detected a hint of fatigue when I got to Cantata 83, but wasn’t sure whether to attribute it to a harried composer or a hyperactive interpreter––or to an ear-weary listener. Frankly, it may well have been the third. At any rate, everyone seemed to have revived by the time I got to Volume 22 and the second cycle. Of course, I’m going to urge interested listeners to acquire [this disc]. Bach and Suzuki are still one of the best tandems going.
-- George Chien, FANFARE - FANFARE
Dvorak: Symphony No 9, Heldenlied / Nelsons
No jaded reaction here to just another decent but unneeded Dvorák Ninth. This may be the most spectacular “From the New World” recording to hit the listings in, well, forever. The first thing to love about it is the recording itself. It’s not an SACD, but it’s speaker-blowing and eardrum-popping dynamic, with timpani rolls that will shiver your timbers, and massed brass and string Fortissimo s that will rattle your windows. Elsewhere, there are velvet string murmurings and delicate flute fluttering so sweet as to arrest the singing of birds outside in the trees.
The second thing to love about this performance—if, like me, you believe the symphony is called “ From the New World” (as in a letter being sent home), and not “ The New World,” for a reason—is that Andris Nelsons doesn’t try to make it sound either American or Czech. Rather, he sees the score for what it is, a mainstream late-Romantic symphony in the Austro-German tradition, exactly contemporaneous with Tchaikovsky’s “Pathétique”—both were written in 1893—and among the last to be completed in the 19th century.
Nelsons’s way with the work is very refreshing; it avoids common performance clichés that have arisen around the piece, like sentimentalizing the Largo and italicizing the alleged Native American melodies. The net effect is a cleansing one, similar to the sometimes astonishing results we witness when the paintings of old Renaissance masters are cleaned and restored. Suddenly the colors are brighter and details are revealed that were long hidden. Similarly, Nelsons’s reading of Dvorák’s Ninth Symphony makes it sound fresh and “new” all over again.
If this magnificent performance and recording of the Ninth were not enough, Nelsons gives us Dvorák’s last and least often recorded tone poem, Heldenlied (Hero’s Song), composed in 1897. Though classified as a tone poem, it’s a tone poem with no specific literary program or narrative. Formally, it’s a symphony contained within a single movement, but having four distinct sections that correspond to the four standard movements of a classical symphony. The work was premiered by Gustav Mahler and the Vienna Philharmonic in 1898.
As stunning as the recording of the Ninth Symphony is, the recording of Heldenlied , taken from another live performance 16 months later, has even more palpable presence. It made my far from inexpensive B&W speakers sound like Transmission Audio’s $2-million Ultimate speaker system, not that I’ve actually ever heard one.
This is one helluva CD. I’m not on the jury, but if I were, I’d give it the orchestral disc-of-all-time award. For a great Dvorák Ninth and a spectacular sonic experience, this is a must-have purchase.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Orff: Ein Sommernachtstraum / Von Gehren, Andechser Orff-Akademie Des Munchner RO
ORFF Ein Sommernachtstraum • Christian von Gehren, cond; actors; Andechs Fest Ch; Munich Youth O; Munich Radio O Andechs ORFF Academy • CPO 777 657 (146:09) Live: Andechs 7/28–30/2010
Carl Orff’s incidental music for Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream grew out of the desire of the National Socialists—generally, but here specifically Frankfurt’s anti-Semitic Lord Mayor Friedrich Krebs—to produce an appropriately Aryan accompaniment to the play as replacement for the now inconveniently “Jewish” musical additions of Felix Mendelssohn. Orff, even as his scenic cantata Carmina burana was gaining popular acclaim in the new Germany, was concerned with his politically dubious reputation as a modernist and consorter with leftists during the Weimar years. So he took the commission despite warnings from his pragmatic publisher that he would never be able to “dispatch Mendelssohn.” In fairness, his interest in the Elizabethan comedy was real; he had been working on such incidental music since 1917. No doubt he also found the sizable advance attractive. But what had been politically expedient in 1938—he prospered during the Third Reich—was to haunt him after the war, however facile his explanations, and at the least diminishes any pleasure one might have in hearing what he has to offer.
Or maybe not. The audience certainly seems to enjoy this production from the 2010 Orff in Andechs Festival. It will be rougher going for anyone lacking fluent German. Though the story is well known, and the alert listener will be able to figure out what is happening some of the time, there is no text, translation, or synopsis, a serious failing shared with cpo’s other recording from this festival, the Orff/Monteverdi Orpheus . My admiration goes out to anyone who, textless, can happily attend for more than two hours and 20 minutes to heavily edited Shakespeare in German, with attractively dreamlike but inconsequential and repetitive music cues that cannot even be appreciated in context of the words they are to amplify.
Cynicism aside, one is left wondering what Orff did to earn his substantial commission. Many of the handful of independent pieces are adaptations of other compositions: The prelude is from Carmina burana (“Si puer cum puellula”) transformed into a fanfare, used again in full as a replacement for the wedding march. The Rustics are introduced (in this version of 1964) with music from the 1943 fairy tale opera Die Kluge, which, in this context, jars with its banality. Annotator Thomas Rösch suggests other sources: Carmina burana again (“Chramer, gip die varwe mir”) for Titania’s lullaby, and an allusion to the act II duet for Octavian and Sophie from Der Rosenkavalier for the moonrise scene. I suppose one could make a game out of identifying the remaining borrowed themes, but I’ll leave that to others.
There are magical moments; the playing of the trumpet to the moon has the same charm as the ending of Der Mond , the prelude to the ninth scene in Theseus’ palace recalls moments of repose in the famous cantata, and the wonderful midnight melodrama (though I would have wanted Puck’s speeches done less malevolently) and finale (name that source!) provide a fitting end. Would that it all had been so engaging. The youth orchestras, and the chorus in its brief outings, are able; the recording clear for those for whom German is not an obstacle. The birds chirping in the forest are a nice touch. In any case, though my curiosity has been only partly satisfied, at least now, thanks to cpo, the historical footnote is made tangible. You might want to check the samples online before buying. And find a translation.
FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames
The Music Of Elliott Carter Vol 4 / Speculum Musicae, Et Al
Shard, for solo guitar, is a zippy and appealing little two and a half minute trifle that, as the title implies, sounds like a piece of something bigger, but one with an edge to it. That something bigger (and edgier) turns out to be Luimen (the title is Dutch and means "whimsical moods"), of which Shard comprises the third of four continuous sections, albeit with additional instrumental commentary. The word "whimsical" aptly describes Luimen, and any composer worth his salt better have his tongue in his cheek when writing for an ensemble consisting of trumpet, trombone, harp, mandolin, guitar, and vibraphone. Why does Carter's style work so well here? Well, first of all, traditional tonality would almost inevitably force a composer into well-worn melodic and harmonic pathways hardly suited to such an unequal and strange assortment of instruments. The result would probably sound merely foolish, whereas Carter's music, with its layered approach to complex rhythms and other simultaneous musical happenings celebrates and exploits the timbral potential of just such an unbalanced instrumental grouping. Take for example the work's second section, in which lovely soft chords from muted brass, harp and vibraphone serve as a background to sudden plucks from the mandolin and guitar, or the very end of the whole work, which is exquisitely timed to produce a really humorous effect. In short, this piece delivers the goods, and does so with a smile.
The same, alas, can't be said for Tempo e tempi, a song cycle set to various Italian poems and scored for voice, oboe/English horn, clarinet/bass clarinet, violin, and cello. Here the means must be at least somewhat more traditional because the point of any song cycle is the expressive enhancement of the text through music (which is the not the same thing as mere musical illustration, mind you). Three of the songs, "A Dove", with its softly warbling clarinet, "Sunken Oboe" (the musical potential is obvious), and "The Poet's Secret", with its luminous accompaniment, accomplish this goal. The remaining five, whatever private meaning they may hold for the composer, sound as if he could have been setting excerpts from the Manhattan yellow pages, for all their expressive specificity. He's also let down by a recording that places everyone, including soprano Susan Narucki, too close to the microphones, resulting in flat aural perspectives and tonal monotony (though everything else on this disc sounds great). And let's face it, you really can't place any work with lots of solo oboe (no matter how fine the player) far enough away from the microphones, can you?
That leaves us with the celebrated Eight Pieces for Four Timpani. This seminal work, beloved of percussionists, belongs as much in the practice room as it does in the concert hall. Carter himself requests that no more than four of these brief studies ever be played at one time, recognizing the potential for aural fatigue. Daniel Druckman accommodates their metrical and polyrhythmic complexities with virtuoso flair, and he's recorded clearly enough so that the music never turns into mud. Curiously, their interest being primarily rhythmic, these pieces make pretty easy listening for anyone who enjoys virtuoso drumming or music with a certain primal quality. Our Western tradition is filled with works in which an amazing sophistication of technique evokes ancient or primitive ritual music (think of Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring or Les Noces, Varèse's Amériques, Ginastera's Popol Vuh, or Cage's Sonatas and Interludes for prepared piano), and Carter's timpani pieces fall squarely into this tradition, however personal the actual idiom.
So there you have it! Now well into his 90s, Carter continues to write challenging, stimulating music, and to enjoy the enthusiastic support and loyalty of a tremendously talented group of musicians, not least the members of Speculum Musicae. The fact that he employs a highly evolved and complex personal style with limited broad appeal should not, in the final analysis, excuse anyone--supporters, detractors, or even music critics (who ideally should belong to neither category)--from taking each work as it comes and giving it due consideration accordingly. I may be wrong, but I seriously doubt he'd want it any other way. It should also come as no surprise that not everything he writes is equally good. After all, he may be the Grand Old Man of the American avant-garde, but in all other respects he's only human, and so is his music when you come right down to it. [3/4/2002]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Divine Hair - Mass In F
Twice before the producers and the cast of Hair had been involved in a loud and happy birthday party, both times in New York’s spacious Central Park. The events had been “happenings” for the young – particularly those committed to the Age of Aquarius. Just as easily and just as naturally the third anniversary could have been held in the Park, but Michael Butler, the world producer of Hair, felt otherwise. He wanted a service rather than a concert, and he wanted it in a specifically committed building, and yet he somehow wanted it to be large-hearted and generous with the non-committed. The Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine seemed to be not only large enough, but also to have the necessary combination of splendor and “give” to insure a service of the character desired. The Bishop of New York and the Cathedral’s clergy, fully conscious that some of their constituents might quit the Christian religion, decided that this sort of thing was one of the reasons for having a Cathedral and went along happily with the whole idea.
Galt MacDermot’s Mass in F, sung by the choirs of St. Martin’s, Manhattan and St. Mary’s, Staten Island, furnished the music necessary for the Solemn Eucharist, and appropriate selections from Hair, sung by the New York cast and the Cathedral Choir, provided the Introit, Sequence, Offertory and the Response to the Blessing and Dismissal.
This recording conveys everything there is to be said about the vitality of the music and the spontaneous joy of all who were there. The calm splendor of the liturgy, constantly aware of the pulse of the music, provided that vibrant tension which is the essence of the drama of which religion is the mother. Its overtones united young and old, rich and poor and men and women, of every race and creed.