Search: 10 results found for "5. Hill-Song #2"

Over the years I and several other reviewers on this site have been bemoaning the failure of Melodiya, when reissuing their recordings of rare Russian material, to provide texts, translations or indeed adequate booklet notes of any meaningful description for their releases – a damaging omission which does little to make more accessible the excellent recordings themselves. In this selection of Rimsky-Korsakov melodies, CPO have gone to the opposite extreme. Not only do we get the full texts complete with translations, but we also are vouchsafed a lengthy essay from CPO stalwart Eckhardt van den Hoogen discoursing on the composer himself, his psychological background, his attempts to establish himself as a pedagogue, and many other peripheral issues while managing almost entirely to avoid any discussion of the music itself as featured on this disc. Now, I fully appreciate the efforts that CPO put into their booklet notes, which do indeed in many issues offer valuable insights into the music and the composers themselves. However, the turgid prose style of Professor van den Hoogen (which often seems to totally defeat Susan Marie Praeder’s attempts at English translation), are perhaps best regarded in the light of the provision of unintentional amusement. In a final footnote, the booklet essay of eight pages (in small type) notes: “The fact that the Firebird hymn is heard in the Night will be mentioned here for the sake of curiosity and registered completely free from all speculation.” If it is not the intention of the author to discuss the matter, why mention it at all? Earlier in his essay the writer attempts to turn the received opinion of the last century on its head by describing Mussorgsky in the following terms: “Ilya Repin’s famous portrait really tells us everything we need to know about the last years of this original sloth’s life: from his dishevelled hair and watery eyes to the red bulb of a nose shining like a sad lighthouse out of the rolling hills of his face.” Is this really “everything we need to know” about a composer whose output of songs has not only comprehensively outdistanced Rimsky-Korsakov’s in reputation but is also by some considerable margin the most often performed body of vocal works coming from Russia during the nineteenth century?

Still, one has to concede that Professor van den Hoogen always gives good value for money, and he clearly values Rimsky-Korsakov’s output of songs highly. And the performances here do much to justify his enthusiasm. Maria Prudenskaya has spent most of the last ten years working in German opera houses and specialising in Wagner and Verdi, and she fully comprehends the dramatic demands that high romantic music demands of its singers. She was a superbly responsive mezzo soloist in a live Bavarian Radio recording of Verdi’s Requiem under Mariss Jansons a couple of years ago, which I reviewed enthusiastically for this site. Her Waltraute in the 2016 Bayreuth Ring was a towering highlight in an admittedly generally execrable production, and her absolute steadiness of tonal production and gleaming higher register are a real pleasure to hear – not a suspicion of Slavonic wobble here. She also displays a plentiful employment of reflective half-tone, as well as an unexpected (and beautifully floated) upper range in the oriental-sounding Op.2/2 (track 30). Her accompanist Cord Garben is a stalwart contributor to many recitals of song, and as always he relishes the challenge of unfamiliar repertoire. Rimsky-Korsakov was not himself a pianist, and his writing for the instrument was condemned during his lifetime as unidiomatic; but he always gets the effects that he wants to convey. The recording was made some three years before the aforementioned Verdi Requiem – it is not clear why it has waited so long for release – and the recorded sound is fine, even if a little more reverberation might have been welcome.

The disc assembles a whole collection of ‘romances’ identified solely by opus numbers on the CD box, and by transliterated Russian titles at the front of the booklet. They vary in length from just under a minute to a maximum of four minutes; there are thirty individual items here. As might be expected they are all highly proficient settings, generally reflective rather than dramatic, and all have an immediate melodic appeal. Rimsky’s choice of poetic texts is admirable, with Tolstoy, Lermontov, Pushkin and Heine (in Russian translation) featured. They are not assembled in order of composition, which robs the listener of a chance to hear how the composer’s style developed over the years; but Rimsky’s opus numbers are often misleading, with earlier pieces subjected to later revision – it is a pity that the extensive booklet note did not find room to explore this development, including indeed references to songs not actually included on this disc! There are moments which occasion surprise: the clear echo of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata in Op.39/1 (track 5), for example, is an unusual reference to non-Russian material. The treatment of the theme quoted by Stravinsky in The Firebird at the outset of Op.8/2 (track 23) is totally different from that of Rimsky’s pupil.

The songs are generally grouped by the poet whose verses are set, although Rimsky does not seem to make any real stylistic discrimination between his lyrics. Most will I suspect be totally unfamiliar to listeners, although some may have crossed the hearer’s path in miscellaneous recitals of Russian song. But since titles (let alone translations) may differ between one recording and another, there seems to be little point in itemising them here.

So far as I can see this is the only current available single disc devoted entirely to the composer’s output in the field, although Brilliant Classics do have a three-disc compendium of his ‘complete songs’ although there appear to be some individual items omitted (77 songs are included out of some 80 apparently given in published editions), and they are distributed between a whole raft of different singers and pianists. This set suffers also from the fact that no sung texts or translations were provided, even in its original issue on Chant du Monde in 1993. Rimsky-Korsakov enthusiasts will obviously have to own the ‘complete’ set; but for lesser mortals this CD, with its judicious selection complete with transliterated text and translations into both German and English, will be more readily approachable. The music itself will certainly prove enjoyable.

– MusicWeb International (Paul Corfield Godfrey)

Ever since playing Hugleiding (Meditation) by composer Karolina Eiriksdottir for the first time back in 2006, this Icelandic solo violin music project has been melting in my veins. In 2013, John Speight wrote his Soliloquy (track 7 and 8) at my request. Two more recent commissions are on the album, both from composers who play the violin: Fragile Stillness by Lilja Maria asmundsdottir and Aria by Maria Huld Markan. Iceland has a long tradition of violin playing and according to folklore every farmer in certain valleys up north was a fiddler. Ea Fantasia (track 4), my own composition, is inspired by the opening track Alia Fantasia by Nicola Matteis Jr. He was the London-born son of the Italian composer Nicola Matteis, who wrote Ayers and Grounds. Nicola Junior was a violinist like his father and lived in Vienna, where he composed numerous ballets for the imperial opera. His bariolage (arpeggios over four strings) remind me of the opening of Fratres by Arvo Part and Bach's Chaconne-key works in the violin repertoire-both of which have been a great inspiration to me. In Fragile Stillness (track 2), Lilja Maria asmundsdottir experiments with textures. Or as she puts it: "The piece is inspired by a weather condition called froststillur. It is characterized by an intense calmness where there is no wind and a crisp, frozen atmosphere. Karolina wrote Meditation (track 3) in 1996 for violinist Hlif Sigurjonsdottir, who premiered the piece in June 1997. Meditation is in one movement, built on ideas which change and develop, and the composer describes it as "variations without a theme. Aria (track 5) by Maria Huld Markan was written for me in 2023. Her solo piece is written under the influence of Maria Callas and her romanticism and lontano as she sings Puccini. Maria is reflecting on the concept of the genius, and motifs are flowing from all the fountains contemplating the romantic violin repertoire. On his Adagio (track 6), composer Tryggvi Baldvinsson writes: "This small Adagio can be seen as a short play in which three distinct characters appear. Each has it's own traits, it's own personality. The encounter between these characters is bound to have a profound and lasting impact on them. As for the actual course of events, I leave that entirely to the listener's imagination. The piece was composed for Rut Ingolfsdottir, who premiered it in 1997. John Speight is an English-Icelandic singer and composer I got to know through working with the Reykjavik Chamber Orchestra, playing and recording his works. He wrote Soliloquy (track 7 and 8) in 2012 and it is the only piece on the album in two movements. The first movement is slow and thoughtful, while the second is crazy and furious. Tranquility (track 10) by Sveinn Ludvik Bjornsson is possibly the shortest piece I have ever played. The story of it is longer than the piece itself-and too good to omit. Sveinn Ludvik, who is visually impaired, was renting a studio in an old banana storage in Brautarholt, Reykjavik. To enter his studio he had to walk through the studio of artist Helgi Valgeirsson. Above the door there was a painting by Helgi which inspired Sveinn Ludvik deeply; he had the sense it was very somber in it's mood-a naked woman with her back turned. Moved by the scene he wrote Tranquility. Later, when discussing the piece with Helgi and admiring the tragic impact of the naked woman in the picture, Sveinn was shocked to discover that the painting, in fact, was of bananas and oranges. Veronique Vaka Jacques, a Canadian-Icelandic composer and trained classical cellist, grounds her work in the geology and topography of Iceland. In Ofdune (track 9), a map of North Iceland serves as groundwork, with the geographical details of a descending river abstractly translated into the work's time progression, using the river's path through hills and valleys as a loose blueprint. This concept of descent is echoed in the title, Ofdune, which is derived from the Old English meaning "downwards" or "off the hill". Jon Nordal's Hvert orstutt spor (Each Tiny Step, track 11) is from the play Silfurtunglid by Icelandic Nobel Prize-winning author Halldor Laxness. This is a famous Icelandic song, here in my gospel music influenced arrangement for solo violin. I tried to stay true to the beautiful and simple melody and the text of the poem filled with nostalgic longing. - Una Sveinbjarnardottir Recorded in Reykholtskirkja West Iceland January 24. - 25. 2025 Una Sveinbjarnardottir, Violin Ragnheidur Jonsdottir, Tonmeister Dan Shores, Recording, Editing, Mixing, & Mastering Engineer Eva Schram, Photography Una Sveinbjarnardottir, Liner Notes

Who knew? Certainly, we did not. When the eight of us met at WBEZ in Chicago on September 13, 2022, we thought we were taking the first step toward recording a new CD. It was a fine day in the studio, we got a bunch done and it sounded pretty great, but then we spent much of 2023 working on a chamber theater piece that split it's time between LA and Chicago, leaving not much empty space to go back into the studio. January 5 of 2024 was the next time we gathered to record, this time at Tonal Park in Takoma Park, Maryland - and there were a lot of us. There were the five core members of the group, with Tim Langen on fiddle, and James Oxley, tenor, for a total of seven musicians. Dan was producing, Charlie at the console, and Lindsey overseeing it all. Honestly, it was a tough session. We had been overly optimistic about what could be achieved, perhaps we were under-rehearsed, and I had cancer. This is not a poor-pitiful-me-moment. It's just a fact that sometimes when you have cancer and you don't know it, you haven't been diagnosed, nothing feels right, and indeed, nothing felt right. Even in the haze of exhaustion and infirmity, there were shining, glittering moments of extraordinary music making. Isaac brought his saxophone. Ensemble Galilei, known for early music/traditional music crossover had never, ever, recorded with something that modern. Cape Clear, a traditional Irish air would be played on sax accompanied by the viola da gamba. Who knew? Both instruments rumbled and sang, Isaac's saxophone riding the red-hot coals of grief, with the gamba, in the basement of it's range, providing a partner in darkness. James Oxley poured himself into, Come Away, Death, with Jesse Langen's extraordinary guitar giving space, air, and light to the tune. Bernard McWilliams, the session photographer, was there when the jig set was being recorded, a straight-ahead Irish set that Tim, Jesse and Isaac had assembled a few days before, and he looked me straight in the eye and said, "That is like hearing pure joy." The Boys of Barr na Sraide with it's perfect imperfection still makes me cry when I hear Isaac singing, And when the hills were bleeding and the rifles they were aflame To the rebel homes of Kerry the the Saxon strangers came And the men who fought the Auxies and beat the Black and Tans Were the boys of Barr na Sraide who hunted for the wren. There was a biopsy on April 15, I told my surgeon that my first free day to go under the knife was June 17. I had things to do. We had recording sessions already scheduled. As our producer, Dan Merceruio, and I listened to the tracks from December, there was music that soared and there were pieces that didn't quite rise. We needed a fiddler. I called Hanneke Cassel who lives in Boston, asked her if she might have one day to come to DC to record, and when she said, "Yes, if it's May 6, " we were good to go. I flew up for a rehearsal, we went over the tracks she would be working on, she created beautiful and compelling parts, and May 6 was one of those days of focused creativity that one never forgets. At that time, there were two projects in the works, on parallel paths. For the first time, we were going to record an early music CD in a conventional classical music style. Ensemble Galilei had always been known as a crossover group, meaning that while it was true that we performed early music, traditional music was always right around the corner. We never sought to achieve a level of historical performance practice that might engage early music audiences, until now. There were just four of us when we met to rehearse in the spring, and when the rehearsals were over and we were convinced that we had something to say that had never been said before, we scheduled a session for June 6-9. Kathryn Montoya and I were the early music representatives from Ensemble Galilei and we would be joined by the extraordinary lutenist, Ronn McFarlane and the peerless English tenor, James Oxley. Unfortunately, right before James was set to fly to the US from England, he tested positive for Covid. The studio at Sono Luminus had been reserved, Erica Brenner our producer, had her tickets, and Robert Friedrich, our engineer, had packed all the equipment. We were going to record. That studio is designed for a group to record together - sharing space, hearing the music as it is being played, feeling the resonance of the room. There is no isolation, no overdubbing, no fixing that pesky buzzy string in bar four that will be problematic later. The sound of the recording will be broader, there will be more room sound, and the process is inherently different. You can see each other, hear each other breathe. And if you make a mistake, it lives on in everyone's microphone. There is, after all, a plus and a minus to everything. Those days of recording with Kathryn and Ronn were astonishing. Because we had three days booked (and since we weren't recording any of the vocal music), we could focus, really take our time, stretch out and listen, and with Erica gently guiding us, rearrange, and go again. It is rare that time is your friend in the studio, and for us in those days, it was. We were able to book the studio with James for August 4-6, and there we met again. True confessions, two of the songs that James sang are profoundly important in my life, and the way that he sang John Dowland's Flow My teares and Go Cristall teares made playing the bass line, with Ronn taking the lute part, an exquisite experience. And I do hear it, in the recording. All of that intention, all of that seemingly effortless technique (which we know is not effortless) and the heart that they put into the performances, these are the things that one lives for in music. I called Collin Rae, the head of Sono Luminus, on the way home from the session, hoping that he might have a great name for this Ensemble Galilei early music spinoff and he suggested that instead of releasing two different projects under two different names, that we release a single recording as a two CD set. Lindsey Nelson, our executive producer, who seems to always have the wisdom and experience to guide us when we are in uncharted territory, was in the car during that phone call. It was a mind-blowing moment. There were so many things that made sense about it, and at the same time there were major obstacles. We had always been an ensemble that embraced a wide range of music, so putting early music and traditional music on the same CD was business as usual. But we had recorded in radically different sonic environments, intentionally, and how we would marry these diverse soundscapes was challenging. But Collin was right. It was crazy to spin off a different group, give it another name, and release a CD. And while it had never occurred to Lindsey or to me, a two-CD set was the perfect solution. The summer of 2024 was tough, and yet astonishing things kept showing up. A few years before, I looked at our Spotify page for the first time and saw that we had millions of streams. Our big cities were Paris, Seattle, and London, and our demographic was predominantly people in their late teens, twenties, and early thirties, not our usual concert audience - and they were not hearing the music on a Spotify radio station, they were listening and sharing with friends. This was happening all over the world. And then in August, Come, Gentle Night, the title track of a CD that was released in 2000 on Telarc, caught fire. All of a sudden, our top five cities were all in Turkey. The tune was streamed hundreds of thousands of times, again, shared from one person to another. People were listening. Radiation started for me in September. For my first session, which would be the longest, the tech asked what I would like to hear and I said, "Me. Us. Ensemble Galilei." He found Ensemble Galilei on Spotify and as I lay on the cold metal table, in the chilly, dimly lit room, I heard Following the Moon, the title track of a CD released in 1995. It was the second tune I had ever written, and it had been decades since the penny-whistle, harp, viola da gamba and fiddle soaring through space had crossed my consciousness. As I am listening, the machine delivering the radiation starts to rotate across the table, doing it's own, graceful, beautiful dance to the music. Then the next tune, and the next tune and what I realized, in that extreme and novel moment, was that there was a kind of hope and humanity in our music. You could hear it. You could feel it. I understood that people around the world were listening because these tunes offered them a place to be. Of course it did. We had been making music for thirty-five years because it's what we do, not because we ever had a big breakthrough, or there were sold-out performances at Carnegie Hall. Did it make a difference that now there were over twenty-one millions streams? Yes, actually it did. We weren't quite finished recording. We needed Jackie to sing As I Roved Out in a way that only he could do, and we needed a great first track for the first CD. Isaac was writing a new tune that would go with an old tune, and he and Jesse finished working on it on Friday, December 13th and aptly named it, The Last Minute. It changed a little after the concert on Saturday, we did it again in concert on Sunday so, sure, it was ready Monday morning. December 16th was the one day when Dan could fly north, and Jackie, Jesse, Isaac and I would all be in the area, so after our Sunday afternoon concert on December 15th the four of us drove to the studio, met Charlie, set up the microphones, chairs, headphones and whatever else we needed so that we could start recording right at 10:00am, but the next morning there was fog in DC so Dan's flight was delayed. Of course it was. In spite of the challenges we had an extraordinary day, clocked out at 6:00 and everyone made it to their airports on time. After Dan edited the tracks from Chicago and Takoma Park, after Erica edited the tracks from Sono Luminus, I got to work sequencing. Now that all of this music would be one project, we needed a single person to make the choices, to guide the process, to envision and manifest this opus. It was Dan. It had to be. He had been our north star for fifteen years and the hard decisions would have to be his. Some tracks would not make it into this recording and his expertise, compassion, and patience were essential. We also needed to get a proof of concept CD to Collin. None of us really knew for sure whether we could make these two very different sonic fields into one compelling project. When I downloaded all the tracks and started putting them into an order that made emotional sense, I started to hear the stories. But there were problems. There were moments in sequencing the two discs when there seemed to be no way to get from the early music to the Irish music, or back again, and then Kathryn and her recorder solos provided exactly what we needed. In an unexpected turn, the recorder which is so clearly identifiable as an early music instrument became timeless. In her hands, this instrument which is essentially a wooden tube with holes in it, became an expressive and infinitely transmutable pathway for traversing the cultures and centuries. It was miraculous. It would have been technically possible to have the early music recording and the traditional music recordings come close to matching in sound and space, but honestly, I came to love the differences. Robert, a master location engineer, had achieved a sound that included the room, with it's high ceiling and hardwood floor, and also brought the resonance of each of us close to the listener. Charlie, who had produced the very first Ensemble Galilei recordings, knew exactly how to place the microphones so that on that amazing guitar solo, Bruach Na Carraige Baine, the pure sound and the overtones would sparkle, and fill the ear. As I listened down through all thirty-four tracks and forty-seven tunes over two CDs, sometimes I felt like I was turning a corner, from one song to another, moving from an Irish hillside to a medieval castle, from one world to another - each of them compelling, expressive, and sonically exquisite. In the end, if the musicians have brought their hearts, souls, and years of mastery, if the recording team has entered into the space with wisdom, tools, patience and good will, if the executive producer is saying, "Sure, let's book one more session to make this the very best it can possibly be" then the opportunity exists for the listener to hear it all - the breath, the intention, the ensemble, the soloist, the fingers on the strings, the air as it comes out of the recorder, the hands on the regulators of the uilleann pipes, the tipper as it touches the head of the bodhran, the rosin on the fiddle's bow, and feathered end of the note on a viola da gamba. It is all there. What you do not hear on this recording is the harp being played by EG Emeritus member, Sue Richards. Never in the thirty-five years of Ensemble Galilei has there been a recording without Sue. Who are we without that grace, without her sense of beauty and joy? The answer must be that we are still making music, still telling stories, still finding our way into new territory, trusting our hearts and our sensibilities. Playing music together is a place where we meet, a place that we love, indeed, it is there I long to be. - Carolyn Surrick, March 10, 2025 Ensemble Galilei Isaac Alderson - uilleann pipes, Irish flute, whistles, tenor saxophone Jesse Langen - guitar Kathryn Montoya - recorders, whistle, shawm Jackie Moran - banjo, bodhran, egg shaker Carolyn Surrick - viola da gamba With Hanneke Cassel* - fiddle Gjendine's Bådlåt and Gjendine's Waltz, Boys of Barr na Sraide Tim Langen - fiddle Jig Set, When that I was a Tiny Boy Ronn McFarlane - lute James Oxley - tenor *Ensemble Galilei emeritus Barn Dance no.1 and Leaving St. Kilda were recorded at WBEZ in Chicago on September 13, 2022. Recording Engineer - Brian Doser Producer and Editing Engineer - Dan Merceruio Mixing Engineer - Charlie Pilzer Producer and Music Director - Carolyn Surrick Come Away Death, Io son un Pellegrino, Serbian Wedding Dance, Bruach Na Carraige Baine, Cape Clear, When that I was a Little Tiny Boy, Waltz no.1, Sliabh Geal gCua, Aggie Whyte's, The Old Blackthorn Stick, Old Simon the King, The Boys of Barr na Sraide and The Fair Maid of Barra, The Sporting Pitchfork and Scattery Island were recorded at Tonal Park in Takoma Park, Maryland from January 5-7, 2024. Recording and Mixing Engineer - Charlie Pilzer Producer and Editing Engineer - Dan Merceruio Producer and Music Director - Carolyn Surrick Hanneke Cassel recorded Gjendine's Bådlåt and Gjendine's Waltz, and added her incredible musical sense to The Boys of Barr na Sraide on May 6, 2024 at Tonal Park. Recording and Mixing Engineer - Charlie Pilzer Producer and Editing Engineer - Dan Merceruio Producer and Music Director - Carolyn Surrick Lament for Owen Roe O'Neill/Allen Water/ Licke-potjen, Fantasias no. 2 and 3, Life, Tweede Stuck, Galliard, Loftus Jones, Suzanna Galliard, Vierde Carileen, Oncques amour, Jesus in Thy Dying Woes, Zesde Petit Brande/Frere Frapar/La Perichone, and Love is the Cause of My Mourning/Miss Noble were recorded at Sono Luminus in Boyce, Virginia from June 6-9, 2024. Recording and Mixing Engineer - Robert Friedrich Producer and Editing Engineer - Erica Brenner Au joli bois, Beware Fair Maids, Flow My Teares, Go Crystall Teares, His Golden Lockes, and Venus Birds were recorded at Sono Luminus in Boyce, Virginia from August 4-6, 2024. Recording and Mixing Engineer - Robert Friedrich Producer and Editing Engineer - Erica Brenner Hewlett and As I Roved Out were recorded on December 16, 2024 at Tonal Park. Recording and Mixing Engineer - Charlie Pilzer Producer and Editing Engineer - Dan Merceruio Producer and Music Director - Carolyn Surrick Lindsey R. Nelson, Executive Producer. Recorded, Mixed and Mastered by Robert Friedrich, Five/Four Productions, LLC.® Produced by Dan Merceruio. Collin J. Rae, Executive Producer Joshua Frey, Layout Carolyn Surrick, Liner Notes Photography: Bernard McWilliams Cover Art: Amy Fenton-Shine

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