Cold Blue Music has released The Basketweave Elegies, a new recording of music by Peter Garland. This is a CD of solo vibraphone music performed by renowned percussionist William Winant, a close friend and collaborator of the composer. The album consists of nine short movements in an alternating mixture of ‘declamatory core’ pieces and ‘lyric refrains’. Inspired by his admiration of basket making, Garland writes of the album: “The title was originally conceived as a homage to the late artist Ruth Asawa (1926-2013), famous for, among other things, her woven wire sculptures.”
Peter Garland has a long and distinguished career in experimental music as a composer, writer and musicologist. He studied with Harold Budd and James Tenney and was influenced by Lou Harrison, Conlon Nancarrow, Paul Bowles, among others. The press release notes that “Since the early 1970s, Garland’s music has been marked by a return to a ‘radical consonance’ and simplification of formal structure influenced by Cage, Harrison, early minimalism and a great variety of world musics.”
The very first thing you notice when listening to The Basketweave Elegies is the absolute radiance of the notes coming from William Winant’s vibraphone. Very quiet, still, the opening track, immediately establishes this purity of tone. The phrasing is simple – a series of singular notes followed by an arpeggio with very few chords heard at first. One of the ‘lyric refrains’, this piece is short at just 3:25, yet it casts a magical spell. Bright, clear follows, and this consists of high, brightly active tones in running phrases that evoke a sense of movement. Counterpoint appears in the lower registers adding some warmth as the tones combine in beautiful harmonies with lightly syncopated rhythms. One of the ‘core’ movements, the radiant notes of Bright, clear are memorable for their intensity.
The third movement, Very quiet still, has the same title as track 1 but begins with lower register notes that are softer and slightly slower. Middle register notes enter and some nice harmonies develop from this. This movement is similar to track 1 in construction as it continues with the mystical feel. Similarly, movement 4 shares the same title as the second movement, Bright, clear. Luminous tones are heard in a fluid series of independent melody lines. The pitches climb ever higher as if ascending skyward, adding a sunny, optimistic feel. The tempo is moderate, allowing the lovely tones ring out.
The remaining five tracks do not have duplicate titles but continue with the contrasting ‘core’ and ‘lyric’ pattern as before. Lyric, expressive , track 5, is heard with two melodic lines in contrasting registers. Understated and introspective, this movement has the lilt and rhythm reminiscent of a nursery rhyme. Vigorous, declamatory follows, and this features strong phrasing and higher pitches that invoke a sense of urgency. This movement has a purposeful sensibility that is propelled by short, punchy notes heard in the lower register. Peaceful, radiant, another lyric movement, is true to its title with simple chime-like chords and a lovely buoyancy. The declamatory Bold, emphatic opens with a series of ascending scales in brilliant tones followed by a soft trill in the middle registers. As the piece proceeds, the scales vary slightly and this introduces some interesting variation. Two-tone chords are heard as the sequences change in both quantity and pitch, giving a sense of movement and evolution to the phrases.
The final movement, Lyrical, tranquil, concludes the album with a slow series of notes in two independent lines that turn and work off each other . Descending scales in the higher line contain the more active rhythms, but the overall feeling is one of quiet serenity. The simplicity of form and the brilliant tonal colors of the vibraphone are lovingly maintained in this movement, as throughout the entire album. The sparkling clarity of Garland’s writing and the sure-handed touch of Wiliam Winant’s playing make The Basketweave Elegies a masterful summation of the elemental and the pure.
The Basketweave Elegies is available directly from Cold Blue Music and other music retailers.
Spaces
James Romig
Tony Oliver, vibraphone
Sawyer Editions
James Romig’s music has become more expansive. Spaces (2021) is his third recent piece to run over an hour in duration. Still (2016), a piece for pianist Ashlee Mack, was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize. Last year brought The Complexity of Distance, a piece for metal guitarist Mike Scheidt that was both rigorously constructed and ripped uproariously.
Like all of Romig’s music, Spaces has a highly detailed plan. Each of the four sections of the piece has an “a” and a “b” subgroup. They begin with a collection of three pitch classes that works its way up to six by the end of “a,” while “b” unspools this in reverse, ending with only three pitches. Three strands are put in a structural polyrhythm of 9:10:11, providing the work with an asymmetrical rhythmic scheme.
Vibraphonist Tony Oliver has worked with Romig for over thirty years, and Spaces was composed to celebrate that collaboration. One can readily hear why the two have enjoyed this association. Oliver performs every nuance of the score, embodying Romig’s music like few others do. Romig is a percussionist himself, and knows the in and outs of the vibraphone, the resonance of each key and the best way to balance a passage. This affords the music, despite its limited palette, to retain interest throughout.
One continues to be fascinated by the surface of Romig’s music. After all the preplanning, the result sounds intuitive. Romig studied with the most prominent of American serial composers, Charles Wuorinen and Milton Babbitt, and yet there is a palpable influence of the music of Morton Feldman on these recent extended pieces. And like Feldman’s own long works, Spaces has a meditative quality that draws one in and makes them forget the time that’s passing. As Feldman said about one of his pieces at its premiere, “It’s a short eighty minutes.”
-Christian Carey
Anthony Cheung
Music for Film, Sculpture, and Captions
Ueli Wiget, piano, Ensemble Modern, Franck Ollu, conductor;
Ensemble dal Niente, Michael Lewanski, conductor;
Ensemble Musikfabrik, Elena Schwarz, conductor
Kairos Music
Anthony Cheung is a prolific composer whose music is situated astride spectralism and second modernity. This is his fifth portrait CD, his first for Kairos, and first of music that accompanies extra musical media. While these sources of inspiration are pivotal components for the music’s genesis, it stands on its own as an audio recording. The works are performed by three top flight groups, Ensemble Modern, conducted by Franck Ollu with piano soloist Ueli Wiget, Ensemble dal Niente, conducted by Michael Lewanski, and Ensemble Musikfabrik, conducted by Elena Schwarz.
Visual artist Ruth Asawa (1926-2013) made sculptures out of wire mesh. A line can go anywhere (2019) is a three-movement piano concerto inspired by Asawa’s work. The first movement’s title, “Wound Wire,” points out the connection between piano strings and Asaway’s wires. Harp-like piano arpeggiations and descending color chords are met by tumult, often riding just below the surface, that periodically erupts into repeated brass verticals. The piano enters a swirl of percussion and brass glissandos and shakes. Wind solos imitate the piano’s gestures with a dovetailing effect, and the movement ends with softer, angular attacks from soloist and ensemble. Wiget does a stalwart job matching the dynamic of the ensemble without ever overplaying. His imitation of the attacks of other instruments is noteworthy.
The second movement, “Weightless/Sustained,” begins with the soft dynamic that ended the first movement. A second keyboard, tuned down a quarter tone, as well as microtones from the ensemble, serve to blur the piano’s music, creating a haze of overtones. Not to be outdone, the piano thrums low bass notes followed by birdsong-like flurries. Gongs and chimes further complicate the atmosphere, and descending wind lines are juxtaposed with the piano’s now ubiquitous birdsong and taut, quickly, repeated verticals. Once again, a denouement closes the movement.
The piece’s finale, “Woven Wire – Homage to Ruth Asawa” is a clever rendering in sound of the sculptor’s working method. The piano contorts a single line solo, let’s call it wiry, while metallophones also provide a taste of Asawa’s metallic medium. A plethora of glissandos in the various sections of the ensemble, as well as periodic stabs from winds, enhance this impression. A final section finds the piano playing repeated notes while boisterous brass and punctilious percussion attacks create a vibrant accompaniment. The piece closes with string glissandos surrounding final punctuations from, successively, piano and percussion.
The Natural Word (2019) is based on the work of author Sean Zdenek, who has researched the use of closed captions in television and film. Zdemek observes that sound captions are selective. Since not every sound can be included, the editor must decide what to foreground and what background noises to select. The Natural Word doesn’t include captions spoken aloud, but rather uses a collection of them, taken from Zdenek and expanded by Cheung. The composer then found analogous film clips to score. The result is a series of short contrasting sections, many of which use coloristic orchestration: seagulls are depicted via altissimo glissandos, pattering rain by percussion, upper register plucked piano, and harp, and so on. Cheung does not just seek to imitate sounds, but in juxtaposing them, mine their cultural reference points. Thus, he shuttles between disparate scorings like jump cuts, but the piece is a cohesive whole.
Null and void (2021) was composed for the soundtrack of a short silent film Stump the Guesser, created by the Canadian filmmakers Guy Maddin, Evan Johnson, and Galin Johnson. In his liner notes, Tim Rutherford-Johnson describes the film as having a “surrealistic, absurdist tone,” and being inspired by the Russian poet and dramatist Daniil Karms (1905-1942). Cheung responds to the material, and to Karms’ aesthetic, with nearly everything but the kitchen sink: Harry Partch’s instruments, thunderous, motoric percussion that references Russian futurism, swing-era jazz brass, with wah-wah mutes, glissandos, and altissimo stabs, and a pistol firing (there is a game of Russian roulette on screen). I would greatly like to see how it syncs up with the film, but null and void as an aural document has a beguiling sound world.
Cheung’s partnership with Kairos continues to expand, encompassing a variety of techniques and inspirational material. Accompanying videos of these pieces would be welcome – dare we hope for a DVD release?
-Christian Carey
Renaud Capuçon, violin; Martha Argerich, piano
Deutsche Grammophon
Three violin sonatas by great nineteenth century composers, all in A, grace this recording by violinist Renaud Capuçon and pianist Martha Argerich. Longtime collaborators, the duo sound seamless in these performances. They create detailed renditions, faithful to the scores but keen to put their own stamp on the pieces.
The first movement of the Schumann exemplifies this approach, with the performers digging into the main theme and unspinning legato lines in its development, the tempo treated flexibly. In the second movement, an Allegretto of considerable delicacy, Capuçon and Argerich provide shading between its major and minor sections that create a chiaroscuro effect. The final movement is dazzling, with Argerich’s right hand and the violin doubling in a fleet duet. Emphatic chords and sforzandos punctuate the music, which culminates with a heroic cadence.
Beethoven’s Kreutzer Sonata is one of the most prized in the violin-piano literature, and Capuçon and Argerich play it with powerfully delineated dynamic contrasts, exquisite attention to phrasing and articulations, and a sense of familiarity by dint of long association with the piece. Every time one or the other player stretches out, they know that the other will be there to support them, even catch them. The breaths provided by subtle ritardandos and slightly extended rests are part of what gives the performance a special character. Beethoven’s music isn’t meant to be motoric, but more timid performers sometimes play it that way. The second movement, an extended set of variations. The F major theme, as so often for this key in Beethoven, has a simple, limpid quality. Despite its length – over sixteen minutes – the music is shaped with a keen awareness of its overarching form. After the piano leads off, the violin takes a turn in the foreground with ornate soprano register embellishments. A minor section mid-movement lends the music a melancholic flavor, with keening accentuations doubled by violin and piano. A return to the major key references the beginning, with florid ornaments even more present. The major key persists in the last variation, the longest in the movement. It is slow and grandiose, with a cadenza-like piano introduction. The violin enters with trills and the two render the tune in a call and response duet that brings the movement to a warm conclusion. It is followed by a presto sendoff, a sonata rondo. Once again the length of the movement is significant and the jaunty theme is subjected to many different permutations and harmonic underpinnings. The playing is virtuosic, displaying Capuçon and Argerich at their fleet-fingered best.
César Franck’s Violin Sonata, composed in 1886 when the composer was sixty-three, is an example of late Romantic treatment of chamber music. Sinuous melodies, denied resolution again and again, suggesting the influence of Wagner’s operas. There is a winsome character to the first movement’s tune that is affecting. With the change in style, one is afforded a different sense of the musicians’ playing. Argerich displays a sonorous, muscular tone and Capuçon complements this with a steely sound of his own. The second movement, an Allegro, is where the dramatic conflict of the sonata occurs. It is followed by a recitative and fantasy, which stretch phrases nearly to their breaking point in mournful melodies. The ambiguity of harmony and interwoven rhythms move the piece to the other side of the romantic divide, reminiscent of Johannes Brahms. The sonata comes full circle, returning to an allegretto tempo for the final movement. The beginning’s descending thirds are offset later by shimmering altissimo duets. Juxtaposed are A minor, in boisterous passages, and the more lyrical exploration of A major. Cascades of piano arpeggios, scales and supple variations of the tune by the violin build the piece to a rousing finish.
There are many recordings of these pieces. Few display the lived-in quality and consummate sensitivity of Capuçon and Argerich. Recommended.
-Christian Carey
Vicente Lusitano
Motets
The Marian Consort
Rory McCleery, director
Linn Records
Congratulations to Sequenza 21 contributor Garrett Schumann for his first article in the New York Times, about sixteenth century composer Vicente Lusitano. Along with colleagues, Schumann has researched the background of Lusitano, who was active in Portugal until sometime after 1561. A document, albeit one with some chronological distance from his death, labels Lusitano as a “pardo,” a person of African descent. This alone might seem circumstantial, but Schumann cites other, more contemporaneous, evidence about liturgical and cultural practices that support this theory. Our conception of Renaissance composers strictly as white males has been shifted with the greater awareness of talented female composers of the era. Although scholars have been aware of Lusitano as a pardo for some time, the Times article and recent work by period ensembles, the Marian Consort prominent among them, further expands public consciousness to encompass people of color in the repertoire of the Renaissance.
The Marian Consort’s recording for Linn Records of Lusitano contains ten of his motets, including the substantial Inviolata, integra et casta es. Based in England, the Marian Consort sings one-to-a-part and is directed by Rory McCleery. The resonant recording venue, All Hallows’ Gospel Oak in London, along with Linn’s characteristically excellent sound, provides reinforcement that belies this small complement of voices. At the same time, the group sings with fulsome clarity, delineating each line and contrapuntal combination.
Lusitano’s music is of the same chronology as the mid century “forgotten generation” on the continent, composers such as Gombert, Willaert, and Clemens non Papa. But on the Iberian peninsula, styles tended to lag behind; Palestrina’s style was still being practiced well into the seventeenth century. Well-traveled and a respected music theorist who studied chromaticism, Lusitano’s work was more adventurous than his Portuguese contemporaries. A piece found in one of his treatises featuring abundant chromaticism, Heu me, Domine, is included on the Marian recording. If one were to only hear this work, they would think that Lusitano was rubbing elbows with Gesualdo and company in Naples, instead of a generation their senior. The Marian Consort performs Heu me, Domine with exquisite, period-informed tuning.
The rest of the motets come from Lusitano’s single printed collection, Liber primus epigramatum, published in 1551. They are less chromatic than Heu me, Domine, but display some examples of interest in this regard. Emendus in melius features several harmonic twists and turns.
All was not forward looking for Lusitano. Josquin, a composer of the previous generation, was a favorite touchstone. He frequently used texts set by the elder composer and parodied his motets. The Salve Regina, in particular, includes fragments in homage to Josquin. Praeter rerum serium, another parody work, is in eight voices, expanding Josquin’s six. Like the earlier version, it retains a slow moving chant line in the upper voice. One can also hear Josquin’s musical influence in imitative duos, such as those in Regina caeli laetare.
The most elaborate of parodies by Lusitano of Josquin is the eight-voice Inviolata, integra et casta es, adding three voices to Josquin’s five. It preserves the earlier motet’s division into three sections and a canon at the fifth. This is transplanted into the rich vocabulary of Lusitano’s generation. At twelve minutes, it is a monument to the achievements of Lusitano. One eagerly awaits more music by the composer, including a forthcoming recording by Chineke!
-Christian Carey
Your Mother Should Know: Brad Mehldau Plays the Beatles
Brad Mehldau
Nonesuch Records
Pianist Brad Mehldau is a chameleon-like figure, able to play music in many styles and a creative composer. He excels at finding new standards, recent pop songs that benefit from jazz treatment. The Beatles’s songbook is among the most durable in the pop canon, having endured numerous revisionings, some inspired and, sadly, some insipid. Your Mother Should Know: Brad Mehldau Plays the Beatles is strongly inspired.
A live recording that consists of ten Beatles songs and a David Bowie encore (“Life on Mars”), the audience is warmly enthusiastic. Other pianists who mine pop for new standards, Herbie Hancock, Ethan Iverson, and Christopher O’Riley to name just a few, each bring their own approach to the task. Often, the original’s arrangement is discarded for flights of fancy. Mehldau sometimes stays true to the Beatles’ recordings. I Am the Walrus’ adheres to as much of the psychedelic bounty as two hands can manage. “For No One” is riff-filled during its instrumental breaks, but keeps true to the verse and chorus and its beginning and conclusion.
Elsewhere, Mehldau uses the songs as springboards for improvisation. “I Saw Her Standing There” is given a rousing rock ‘n roll treatment with a bluesy solo. “Golden Slumbers” is adorned with post-bop riffs. “Your Mother Should Know” gets a swing shuffle treatment, while “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” sounds in places like Thelonious Monk has visited the stage. “Here, There, and Everywhere” is moving in its restraint, played by Mehldau with a rubato approach that begins true to the original, then adds modal jazz’s parallel planing of chords and dissonant extensions that add surprise to the tune.
The Bowie encore is performed with poignancy alternating with virtuosic octave passages. Interestingly, instead of embellishing the chord structure, Mehldau strips out a few passing chords to keep the changes in a more Romantic vein.
Above all, Mehldau displays curiosity and affection for the songs themselves. The Beatles will continue to inspire different approaches to their music. Future interpreters would do well to keep Your Mother Should Know in mind as a touchstone for how it should be done.
-Christian Carey
On February 10, 2023, Cold Blue Music released Halcyon Days, a new album of music by composer Michael Byron. The CD consists of percussion and keyboard pieces that date from early in Byron’s career providing new insight into the beginnings and development of his brilliantly original style. The performers on the album include Vicki Ray and Aron Kallay, two of the top new music pianists in Los Angeles. The legendary William Winant and his versatile percussion group are also heard on this CD. The material dates from 1972 to 1978 and also includes one recent work from 2016, performed by New York-based pianist Lisa Moore. As stated in the press release “This album treats us to clangorous clouds of polyrhythms and simple, direct, quiet works, both of which explore rich harmonies and bespeak a sense of transcendent motionlessness.” The CD is dedicated to Winant, longtime friend and colleague of the composer.
The music of Michael Byron seemingly defies conventional explanation. It is minimalist, almost in the extreme and is comprised of basic musical materials. It has no obvious formal structure, no melodic development or even a consistent rhythmic organization. The repeating patterns and layers weave in and around each other, creating a lush harmonic field that often evokes a deep sense of the mystical. This music seems to be in constant motion, yet at the same time it is essentially static, like listening to a small stream or brook splashing along – always moving and changing, but somehow staying the same.
The earliest piece on the CD, Drifting Music, dates from 1972 and illustrates some of the distinctive characteristics of Byron’s musical processes. Drifting Music opens with a series of solitary tubular bell chimes that are allowed to ring out for several seconds. More tones are added in a nearby pitch via overdubbing, and the interaction of the tones shimmer in the listener’s ear. The effect is both solemn and invigorating, with an impact greater than the simplicity of the sounds would suggest. Extracting the fullest expression from the most elementary musical gestures is an important aspect of Byron’s craft and is clearly evident in this early work.
In Music of Every Night (1974), Byron extends his ideas across two distinct timbres: maracas and marimbas. The piece opens with quietly continuous maraca sounds, like the soft buzzing of insects on a warm tropical night. After two full minutes, marimba riffs are heard in different registers, mixing and melding in a series of luminescent harmonies. The marimbas are used primarily for their pitches and timbre, with less emphasis on the rhythms. The result is unexpectedly introspective, exotic but not cliché. Music of Every Night is impressive in that it employs primarily rhythmic instruments to create a gentle reflective mood. The sure touch by percussionist William Winant, along with precise overdubbing, produces a seamless blend of sound.
Music of Steady Light (1978), with three movements, is the longest and most complex piece on the album, totaling over 32 minutes. This is performed by the William Winant Percussion Group and includes marimbas, xylophones, glockenspiels and vibraphones. Movement I opens with a scatter of deep syncopated marimba tones in the lower registers and this is soon joined by vibraphone notes that add a mysterious feel. The dynamics, tempo and complexity increase as the movement moves forward, building up layer by layer. The listening becomes an immersive experience as the polyrhythms swirl and weave in and around each other. The notes come with a sense of purpose, like a driving rain, although never out of control. The energy gradually dissipates over the second half of the movement as the tempo slows and the notes thin out, fading at the finish
The second movement employs bright, luminous phrases ringing out from several instruments – vibraphone, glockenspiel and xylophone. Overlapping passages are heard with rapid, broken rhythms and syncopation, all played without a common beat. Beautiful interactions are heard among the overtones that combine to sound like a giant wind chime. The repeating rhythms and ringing harmonies act together to form an organic whole, in the absence of any regular structure. The playing is masterful, given the necessary coordination of the many ringing phrases. About halfway through the tempo slows, and this provides clarity by letting the phrases breathe. The sensations become less frenetic and dreamlike as the movement concludes.
The third movement starts off with a low hum in the vibraphone and sparkly high notes from the glockenspiel. The low notes form a nice foundation for the individual glockenspiel notes that gleam like bright stars in clear night sky. As the movement proceeds, the texture becomes active and more intense – a busy feel. At 4:40 a series of chime-like phrases ring out, adding some order to the effervescent mixture of sounds. The phrases pour out, seemingly at random, but ultimately building to a sense of the other-worldly. The playing is impressive – all the instruments are independent of each other, yet with no loss of overall expressive power. Slowing at 9:30, the pitches drop and dynamics are reduced before a slow fade out to the finish.
Music of Steady Light has many seemingly random moving parts, but Byron’s artful vision, and the virtuosity of the Winant Percussion Group, combine for an extraordinary listening experience.
Starfields (1974), for four-handed piano, begins with a repeating series of strong chords in the middle register that clang away like an urgent alarm. The pitches do not change and the rhythms are slightly syncopated, adding tension. A solitary lower chord is heard at intervals and this has, by the contrast, a warmer feel. The chords accelerate in tempo while the rhythms deconstruct, and the sounds mix together in a lovely swirl. The flow of notes is at a consistently strong dynamic, unvarying, so that the initial pounding, percussive sensation is sustained. The muscular playing of Vicki Ray and Aron Kallay is full of surging power as the piece builds to an unexpectedly quiet conclusion.
The final track is Tender, Infinitely Tender (2016), the most recent piece of the album. This solo work is performed by pianist Lisa Moore. At the opening, lovely piano arpeggios ring out as lush chords soon appear in the lower registers. There is no melody or overall structure apart from the repeating patterns and a relaxed tempo. There is a transcendental, spiritual feel to this and the phrases roll along as if they never need to end. A quiet key change at about the halfway point provides a sense of harmonic movement, a feature Byron employs in other recent works such as In the Village of Hope. Towards the finish the tempo slows, becoming softer and with fewer notes as it coasts to a fading finish. Tender, Infinitely Tender is a beautiful work played with a sensitive touch and great emotional expression.
Halcyon Days confirms a consistent musical vision that can be readily observed in these early works of Michael Byron. The ability to extract lush harmonies from pitched percussion and to create a sense of expressive integrity in the absence of formal structure make Michael Byron an indispensable contributor to the evolution of new music over the last 50 years.
Halcyon Days is available directly from Cold Blue Music and other popular retail outlets.
The William Winant Percussion Group is:
William Winant
Tony Gennaro
Michael Jones
Scott Siler
Steve Reich: The String Quartets
Mivos Quartet
Deutsche Grammophon
Steve Reich wrote his three string quartets for the Kronos Quartet, who have premiered, recorded (for Nonesuch), and continued to champion them. With Kronos still active, why does another quartet record these pieces? Mivos Quartet makes a strong case that there is room for other interpretations of Reich’s string quartets.
I remember well being at the Carnegie Hall premiere of Steve Reich’s piece for string quartet and multimedia WTC 9/11, performed by Kronos Quartet. Its incorporation of sound recordings, a dead phone line, air traffic controllers, and those trying to escape the building, was harrowing. Like his first quartet, Different Trains, Reich creates instrumental motives out of spoken word passages, imitating their contour and imparting pitch. The final movement, in which Jewish prayers are said over remains from the site, is extraordinarily moving. By the end of the work, many in the audience were visibly shaken by its visceral impact. Kronos has since recorded WTC 9/11, in a gritty rendition reminiscent of the energy of the live performance.
Mivos plays with equal poignancy, but also with a laser beam clarity that brings an entirely different palette of textures to bear. The recorded voices too have been remastered to emphasize incisiveness of utterance. Even with the constraints of overdubbing and vocal samples, there is freshness to Mivos’s approach to phrasing, taut and lithe.
Triple Quartet features three quartets overdubbed throughout the piece (no vocal samples). Mivos play up the polyrhythms that festoon the work. Just when you think the groove is interlocked for good, Reich throws another intricate rhythmic relationship into the mix. Lest things become too motoric, glissandos and solo turns enliven the texture. Triple Quartet doesn’t have the narrative arc that defines the other pieces here, but it is a fine piece of abstract music
Different Trains is an iconic work. At the beginning of the Second World War, Reich was shuttled back and forth on trains between separated parents. The “different trains” are those destined for the death camps in Poland. Its first movement features voices from Reich’s train rides, a porter, and governess, and clangorous train sounds. As in WTC 9/11, Reich creates melodic phrases that mimic the contours of the sampled speeches. The second movement is terrifying, with speakers who are survivors of the Holocaust describing their trips on trains to the death camps. Air raid sirens are added to the train sounds, which move on a different polyrhythmic pathway. The final movement describes the end of the Second World War, bringing voices from America and Europe together to consider what has transpired. The last section moves from the emphasis on rhythm to a major key cadence accompanying the description of a deportee with a beautiful voice. One of the masterpieces of the late twentieth century, Different Trains is a piece that delves into issues of ethnicity and religious persecution that are, sadly, all too present in today’s society.
The renditions by Kronos are irreplaceable, but Mivos creates compelling complementary readings. Recommended.
-Christian Carey
The Clarinet Trio
Transformations and Further Passages
Jürgen Kupke, clarinet; Michael Thieke, alto clarinet, clarinet; Gebhard Ullmann, bass clarinet
Leo Records LR 921
Gebhard Ullmann is celebrating his sixty-fifth birthday with the release of three albums, Transformations and Further Passages on Leo among them. The Clarinet Trio are a superb group of improvisers, Jürgen Kupke and Michael Thieke are eloquent foils for Ullmann. Unlike some other Ullmann outings, where he clearly leads the proceedings, this is a context in which everyone collaborates and gets to take solo turns. In fact, three of the tracks are solos, one for each member of the trio. While some pieces are improvised, much of the music-making here is based on compositions by European jazz composers.
“Collective #13” is one of the former, and finds the musicians exploring tone colors overlapping in a compound melody, vibrato and overblowing creating a shimmering texture. Upward glissandos and a howl from the bass clarinet punctuate the close of the piece, which concludes with a distressed unison detuned with subtle pitch bends.
In Joki Freund’s “Cleopatra,” a bebop moto perpetuo with the tune overlapping dominates. Likewise, “Virtue,” by Manfred Schoof, explores a swing ballad with tasty changes and a bit more tension in the solos. “Set ‘em Up,” by Albert Mangelsdorff, is a quicksilver bebop tune, harmonized by the trio with great suavity. Once again, when two players drop out, the remaining soloist performs in a more experimental vein. Eventually, “Set ‘em Up” moves into a skronking trio before a more traditional outro.
“Tension/Varié,” also by Mangelsdorff, initially combines free passages with a jaunty heterophonic refrain, then there are long stretches of sustained notes and mercurial flurries. The tune slowly emerges again from the texture, leading to a new section of chorale-like gestures. A loping accompaniment gives the tune, now floridly embellished with howling altissimo gestures, a Middle Eastern feel. The denouement combines the rhythmic groove with the previous chorales. “Tension/Varié” is a wide-ranging and satisfying musical journey.
There is a liveliness and puckish sense of humor, even in pieces that allow all three clarinetists to caterwaul with abandon. “Get Up, From Now On,” by Karl Berger, has a bluesy riff that is explored for much of the piece. But there are free jazz breaks where the trio trade licks and howls. The juxtaposition is surprising, but left turns such as these seem to be the trio’s calling card.
“Solo 1,” performed by Thieke, traverses the compass of the alto clarinet in jangling lines that are punctuated by stentorian low notes. Ullmann’s “Solo 2” begins delicately with whiffs of birdsong, only to be ruptured to wakefulness with fortissimo bass notes. Microtonal interpolations close the solo, a brief essay with a bounty of material. It segues into Rolf Kühn’s “Don’t Run,” which fleshes out the experimental gestures of Ullmann’s solo. Mangelsdorff’s “Theme from Vietnam” crests and subsides in waves of interactive melody and bent notes. It is followed by Kupke’s “Solo 3,” in which disjunct lines are delicately deployed with repeats of the head motive. It is an enigmatic close to an exploratory album. It makes one eager to hear more of Ullmann’s sixty-fifth birthday celebrations.
-Christian Carey
Beethoven Piano Sonatas, Opp. 101 & 106
Maurizio Pollini
Deutsche Grammophon
Maurizio Pollini turned eighty during the recording sessions for this CD in 2021 and 2022. The great pianist spent forty years doing his first recording of all thirty-two piano sonatas by Beethoven. He returned to the last three during the anniversary year of 2020. Now, Pollini has decided to document two of the late sonatas again for Deutsche Grammophon. Redundant? Hardly. These renditions are distinctive, demonstrating Pollini’s assured technique and interpretive powers in recrafting these sonatas, which he has played for so many years.
Generally here, Pollini selects tempos on the fast side. He even plays the Hammerklavier, Op. 106, up to its metronome markings, often thought impractical by previous interpreters and musicologists. In the A Major Sonata, Op. 101, this choice is rewarding as well. The second movement, Vivace alla marcia, displays a jubilant swagger, and the final movement, an Allegro marked Geschwind (quick like the wind) is lightly articulated and quickly rendered, displaying both virtuosity and delicacy. The first and third movements, an Allegretto ma non troppo and Adagio ma non troppo, pay attention to the non troppo (“not too much”) designations, providing both with a lyrical, legato approach to flowing melodies.
The supposed malfunctioning of Beethoven’s metronome could be an understandable assumption at the speeds suggested in the score for the Hammerklavier Sonata. Under Pollini’s hands, the tempos seem altogether natural, if quite impressive. The pianist occasionally allows the principal theme of the first movement to settle for emphasis. Apart from that, blazing virtuosity persists throughout. After a bravura opening, Pollini plays the Scherzo with mercurial grace. He delicately pulls back the dynamics for a chromatic interlude, only to attack the forte close to the section with powerful staccatos. From this miniature dance movement, the sonata then supplies a fifteen-minute long adagio movement, quite typical of the melancholy, ruminative slow movements of Beethoven’s late style. Pollini adopts poignancy without undue sentimentality, shading the various sections with a variety of dynamics and articulations. The last movement begins Largo, a modulatory introduction with several recitative-like passages. It then is succeeded by an ebullient Allegro finale with fugal passages that Pollini takes clearly but at dizzying speed. There is a triumphal quality in the pianist’s rendition that is glorious to hear. Not bad for an eighty year old!
Some chaff at the practice of recording and re-recording the standard repertoire. When it is done as Pollini has here, I say bring it on.
-Christian Carey