CD Review, File Under?, jazz

Ralph Alessi Quartet on ECM (CD Review)

Ralph Alessi Quartet

It’s Always Now

ECM CD

 

Trumpeter Ralph Alessi brought a passel of originals to his latest recording date, his fourth for ECM, It’s Always Now. Most are single-author compositions, but a few are collaborations with pianist Florian Weber. The two are joined on the recording by double bassist Bänz Oester and drummer Gerry Hemingway. It is a formidable lineup, one responsive to and supportive of each others’ playing. 

 

Coauthored with Weber, “Hypnagogic” opens the album, with whole-tone arpeggiations from Weber and repeating notes from Alessi creating a mysterious atmosphere. Alessi’s lines unfurl into passages morphing the scale patterns Weber uses, imitating elements of his intro and exploring upper register sostenuto. It is a beguiling way to begin. “Old Baby’s” loping tempo and bluesy cast alludes to jazz styles past. Still, the player’s keep these tropes within their own modern language. Oester and Hemingway assert themselves on “Residue,” creating a powerful sound and corruscating rhythms. The solos are correspondingly boisterous. 

 

“The Shadow Side” is an appropriately named mysterious ballad with wide ranging solos from both Alessi and Weber. The title tune, coauthored with Weber, features Alessi playing in the upper register with exquisite control. Slow, soft, inside-the-piano work and thick chords create complex textures. “Diagonal Lady” begins with Oester playing a fine solo with terse melodies and glissandos. It concludes with arco low notes. Alessi explores an anapestic cry and Weber ghosts his melodies.

 

“Everything Mirrors Everything” is a nice change of pace, literally. It begins with an uptempo moto perpetuo. The solos maintain a bebop tempo, Alessi using a mute and firing off line after line in fiery fashion. At the tune’s conclusion, he references the moto perpetuo line and Hemingway’s cymbal’s sizzle away. Short and sassy, “Ire” has a duet of its tart tune by Alessi and Weber, which is then taken out of phase by the duo, Weber adding stabbing comping. 

 

Two extended outings, “His Hopes, His Fears, His Tears,” and “Hanging by a Thread” show the capacity of the quartet to develop small pieces of initial material into larger forms. Here as elsewhere, the simpatico interaction between Alessi and Weber is formidable. Likewise, the interactions between Oester and Hemingway never fail to impress. Hemingway has long been a favorite of mine, and hearing Oester’s lines curl around the pulse the drummer sets down, moving into his own line of syncopations to add another rhythmic layer, is a highlight of both tunes. Weber’s solo on “His Hopes… presents virtuosity in full flourish. “Hanging by a Thread” is another tune where a chromatic melody outlines an uptempo pulse. Alessi begins and is joined by Weber in a follow the leader duo. After the intro, the pace slows, and Weber takes a solo set of variations of the tune. Alessi sequences the tune in his solo and overblows stentorian high notes. He is joined by Weber and the tempo picks up to a rapid pace, florid lines breathlessly flowing. Glissandos from the trumpet heralds a new section and the rest of the quartet plays a vigorous ostinato. Alessi locks in with the patterning of the others, Weber returning to with the chromatic tune, and then Alessi repeating it one more time to conclude.

 

The recording’s last cut, “Tumbleweed,” another authorial collaboration with Weber, has a delicate melody built of latticed repeating cells. As in the past, Alessi and Weber trade angular lines, the trumpeter’s tone plummy in contrast to the silvery sound he often evokes. Rather than explore all of the tune’s potential, it finishes after a tantalizing three minutes.

 

It’s Always Now is one of my favorite recordings thus far in 2023. Recommended.

 

-Christian Carey



by Christian Carey
CD Review, File Under?, jazz

Coltrane and Dolphy – Evenings at the Village Gate (CD Review)

Evenings at the Village Gate

John Coltrane with Eric Dolphy

McCoy Tyner, piano; Reggie Workman and Art Davis, bass; Elvin Jones, drums

Impulse! Records

 

Evenings at the Village Gate is a rarity that was curated by the New York Public Library. It is taken from test recordings of the Village Gate’s sound system by producer Richard Alderson. Recorded on a single ribbon microphone, it documents eighty minutes of John Coltrane’s 1961 residency at the venue, performed by the all-too-briefly united quintet lineup that augmented Coltrane’s quartet with multi-reed performer Eric Dolphy. Bassist Jimmy Garrison is absent, replaced by Reggie Workman and, on the only live recording of “Africa,” the addition of Art Davis to make a two bass grouping. Pianist McCoy Tyner and drummer Elvin Jones complete the group.

 

Hearing Coltrane and Dolphy soloing on “My Favorite Things” is an inspiring listen, the former’s breathless phrasing on soprano saxophone and the latter’s flute jabbing at melody notes, juxtaposed with fleet arpeggiations. Dolphy and Jones create a polymetric construction that buoys the tune’s excitement. Coltrane played “My Favorite Things” many times. Later in 1961 he would record iconic renditions at the Village Vanguard. However, the version from the Gate finds his response to Dolphy’s artistry giving the tune an entirely different flavor.

 

Dolphy plays the melody on “When Lights Are Low,” on bass clarinet and explores the upper register of the instrument with impressive control. Likewise, Coltrane’s solo pulls melodic variations out of the stratosphere and brings them down to earth with lightning fast scales. Tyner takes an imaginative solo that explores extended harmonies and variations on the tune. Tyner’s solo on Impressions is also a standout, punctuating the rhythms that Jones emphasizes with short motives as well as virtuoso filigrees and seamless octaves.

 

With the rhythm section laying down a rock solid groove, “Greensleeves” starts with florid elaborations from Coltrane, only later revealing the Dorian tune with fewer adornments, Dolphy interjecting bass notes at its conclusion. Tyner takes an extensive, well-developed solo, once again saving the tune for last. Dolphy’s solo plays with an angular tune that he develops in multiple registers, moving to the melodic refrain and then howling high notes. Coltrane matches these with altissimo shredding of his own. The two then join in a colloquy of blindingly fast arpeggios and overblowing. Coltrane takes the tune one last time, followed by a decrescendo from the rhythm section to conclude. Dolphy’s addition to the proceedings is felt profoundly.

 

The recording of “Africa” apparently is the only live rendition extant. This is the only tune from the Village Gate sessions on which Coltrane plays tenor saxophone. In addition to the upper register playing and quicksilver scales he already displayed on soprano, his playing here also involves long melodic lines and low register punctuations. Workman and Davis trade off arco and pizzicato playing, remaining two distinct voices in the music. Jones drops out to allow them the chance for an extended duet. Tyner performs trills, chord solos, and repeating soprano register patterns. Jones is exuberant in exploring tremendously syncopated rhythms, particularly in his own solo turn. Coltrane and Dolphy create a contrapuntal duet to close the tune, rhythm section roaring beside them. It seems a pity that more live versions of “Africa” have yet to be uncovered, as this is certainly a highlight of the recording.

 

Evenings at the Village Gate is a treasure trove that provides a different perspective on 1961, a pivotal year in Coltrane’s development of an extended approach to live performance. Had Dolphy lived longer, one imagines he could have played an integral part in Coltrane’s later ensembles and recordings. For now, we must content ourselves with what is here, which is quite substantial and essential listening.

 

-Christian Carey

by Christian Carey
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Dance, File Under?

Thomas Adés – Dante (CD/DVD review)

Thomas Adés 

Dante

Los Angeles Master Chorale, Los Angeles Symphony, Gustavo Dudamel, conductor

Nonesuch CD

 

Thomas Adés

The Dante Project

London Symphony Chorus, Orchestra of the Royal Opera House, Koen Kessels, conductor

Opus Arte Bluray DVD

 

It takes a certain amount of chutzpah to use Dante as the centerpiece of one’s own creative work. Thomas Adés has courage in spades, as he has created an ambitious  ballet based on the Divine Comedy, for dancers, chorus, and orchestra, commemorating the 700th anniversary of the poet’s death. Two documents of the piece are currently available, a Nonesuch recording of the Los Angeles Symphony, conducted by Gustavo Dudamel, and an Opus Arte Bluray DVD.

 

Dudamel is firmly in command of the concert version of Dante, balancing its powerful, often intricate, orchestration. The vivid imagery of the poem is ideal material for Adés to use the leitmotifs that so often appear in his theatrical work. In The Inferno section, the “Abandon All Hope” motif, which opens the ballet, is memorable in its angst-filled stridency, “The Ferryman” contains a recurring melody with exquisite writing in the winds, and the Dies Irae is given a set of suitably diabolical variations. “Paolo and Francesca – the endless whirlwind,” is dervish like in its peregrinations. “The Pope’s Adagio – Head First,” contains a soaring, neo-romantic melody. Immediately followed by “The Hypocrites – coated in lead,” which nicely juxtaposes the Pope’s music with slowly moving, low register chromaticism and an inexorable drumbeat. “The Thieves – devoured by reptiles” depicts the chase between condemned and tormentors in a quick dance that, more than anything else in the ballet, channels Tchaikovsky.

 

Some truly terrifying music ensues: the timpani and howling lower brass for “The suicides,” followed by cymbals and upward wind glissandos, has echoes of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. “Satan – in the lake of ice” closes the Inferno section with a harrowing slow movement with dissonant brass chorales juxtaposed with shimmering high winds and strings. It is among the most moving sections of the work.

 

Recorded voices of an ancient Syrian Jewish prayer are intoned at the beginning of Purgatorio, its accompanying music depicting “Dawn on the Sea of Purgatory,” with the sound of recorded waves and modal interludes that resemble the scales being chanted. Voices reappear in “Valley of Flowers” alongside a Middle Eastern dance with ebullient percussion in whirling patterns that gradually speed up, only to be replaced by a slow cadenza. Recorded voices continue their singing and the strings take a long-threaded melody on “The Healing Fire.” Purgatorio in its final three movements begins to depict the uplift of souls to heaven. “The Earthly Paradise” uses a melody from the recorded voices in a brass-forward quick section that ends with a flourish. “The Heavenly Procession” slows the tempo back to that of the initial chanting of the prayer, which is accompanied by chiming punctuations, haloing strings, and an eloquent horn solo. “The Ascent” is triumphant, filled with ringing changes and ascending scales imitated in all the sections of the orchestra.

 

What follows is a compositional tour-de-force.  Paradisum is cast in a single, 27-minute long movement, with the following subsections, “Awakening – Moon – Mercury – Venus – Sun – Mars – Jupiter.” A slow build begins with “Awakening” that continues throughout, with a registral ascent and marshaling of forces culminating in the addition of chorus. Dudamel paces the piece with an exquisite sense of its long architecture, making sure that there is intensity left by the time the music reaches “Jupiter.” Adés’s incorporation of transformed versions of previous leitmotifs provides Paradisum with a sense of closure.  

The Opus Arte Bluray DVD features the Royal Ballet’s Edward Watson in his last performance after twenty-seven years as a principal dancer. Directed by Kevin O’Hare and choreographed by Wayne McGregor, it is a beautifully danced and visually arresting production. Watson, as Dante, and Gary Avis as Virgil, wear tunics, Avis’s gold and Watson’s moving from aqua to half-red/half aqua in Purgatorio, and entirely red in Paradisum. Likewise, the dancers in Inferno wear charcoal body suits and those in Purgatorio and Paradisum are, respectively, light tan and then white. The symbolism of color is complemented by solo and group dancing that varies from undulating modernism to, by the score’s conclusion, more traditional ballet. Sarah Lamb dances the part of Beatrice with graceful versatility, and Dante’s love for her is depicted in affecting choreography. Throughout, McGregor, with a keen ear for its orchestration, captures the essence of Adés’s score.

 

Do I prefer the audio recording or the film? Glad to not have to choose, as they are both excellent documents. Dante is a major work by Adés, and one of his best to date. Highly recommended. 

 

-Christian Carey

 

by Christian Carey
CD Review, Chamber Music, Contemporary Classical, File Under?, Rock

Balmorhea – Pendant World on DG (CD Review)

Balmorhea

Pendant World

Deutsche-Grammophon

 

In recent years, Deutsche-Grammophon has been releasing crossover albums incorporating the work of pop/electronic artists, particularly those who sit in the post-rock and ambient pockets. Balmorhea, the band name for the trio Rob Lowe, Michael A. Muller, and Aisha Burns are an ideal grouping for this type of project. Their work has long been influenced by classical music and their arrangements are well wrought. In 2021, their first recording for DG, The Wind, made a strong impression. If anything, their latest for the imprint, Pendant World, is even stronger. 

 

Guests artists from the A-list of contemporary classical music join them, including cellist Clarice Jensen, percussionist Jason Treuting, vocalist Lisa Morgenstern, and guitarist Sam Gendel. Lower and Muller handle keyboard duties, and Burns contributes violin. Many of the songs are aphoristic, but even the smallest slices of music yield atmospheric moments. “Nonplussed,” Pendant World’s opener, clocks in at a mere forty-one seconds, but Treuting’s chimes and gradually accelerating drums give it a striking resemblance to a locomotive gearing up to leave the station. “Range” is a showcase for  Gendel’s arpeggiated guitar, with supple strings in the background and a brief piano bridge between the guitar solos. Less than two minutes, it would make an excellent cut for a film score. “Fire Song” too, is short yet memorable. It features Gendel, this time taking on a more melodic role with plaintive harmonies behind him.

 

Pendant World doesn’t just contain morsel-sized pieces. “Step, Step, Step” is a showcase for the band and all of their guests. Solos ricochet between them, with Burns a particular standout and Treuting providing an ardent motor. The arrangement is well-conceived: the concert music analog to a post-rock anthem. Similarly, “Oscuros” is for the ensemble, with a repeated note piano riff girding the verses and strings taking up a variation of the tune in a subdued middle section. At the end of the piece, the piano takes the foreground again with a harmonically tweaked, more fully realized version of the tune. 

 

The final piece,”Depth Serenade”  features Balmorhea with Burns and Jensen handling string duties. The violin and cello melodies are beautiful, set against ambient keyboards. The overall effect has echoes of Gavin Bryars’s Sinking of the Titanic and Harold Budd’s work, but the sound world of Balmorhea commingles with them, and doesn’t merely co opt past sounds. It ends with repeated shimmering piano chords and soaring strings..

 

Pendant World makes a strong case for the vitality of crossover in a contemporary classical context. One hopes Balmorhea will continue in this vein.

 

-Christian Carey



by Christian Carey
CD Review, File Under?, Pop, Rock

Dear Tick – Emotional Contracts (CD Review)

Deer Tick

Emotional Contracts

ATO Records

 

Deer Tick’s first post-pandemic recording, Emotional Contracts (ATO), is produced by veteran Dave Fridmann, who has manned the console for the likes of Sleater-Kinney, The Flaming Lips, and Spoon. It retains many aspects of the sound Deer Tick has developed over the past two decades. A number of the songs are rousing rock anthems with a tinge of alt-country. “If I Try to Leave” falls into this category, but its lyrics chaff against the music’s uplifting demeanor, with the narrator asking how they would cope if they left their life, family and all, behind. The lyrics of “If She Could Only See Me Now” are those of a traditional rock breakup ballad, but the music and vocal provide an indignant sneer, suggesting this relationship is truly in the rearview mirror. 

 

The lineup for Deer Tick has been steady. The band’s founder singer/guitarist John McCauley is joined here by guitarist Ian O’Neil, drummer Dennis Ryan, and bassist Christopher Ryan. The group also enlists guest artists, Steve Berlin (Los Lobos), who adds keyboards and saxophone to some of the tracks, and background vocalists Courtney Marie Andrews, Kam Franklin, Angela Miller, Sheree Smith, and Vanessa Carlton.

 

Deer Tick has a reputation for creating music that is a bit scruff, rough around the edges even after it is recorded. One would imagine that their previous recordings involved tightening things up a bit during their sessions. In something of a role reversal, the band rehearsed (by their own admission, over rehearsed) the ten songs on Emotional Contracts for months in their slapdash rehearsal space in Providence, Rhode Island. When Deer Tick arrived in the studio to record, Fridmann had to encourage them to let go of the process, to allow the songs to redevelop into finished projects. The addition of the aforementioned guests opens up the sound. For instance, “Running from Love” has multiple vocalists and a chorus cooing in the background, and takes on a soul vibe.  The first single from Emotional Contracts was co-written by McCauley and O’Neil, with the latter taking lead vocals. A heavy rock beat on the verse is disrupted on the chorus by a Latin rhythm on the keyboard. The rhythmic juxtaposition is in part because the lyric sends us “South of the border,” but it also demonstrates the narrator’s fraught emotional state while dealing with trauma from earlier in life. “Grey Matter” leans into Deer Tick’s abiding affection for country.

 

“Once in a Lifetime” isn’t a cover. This original by McCauley features a jaunty bassline, tightly interlocked guitar parts, accordion, and dulcet vocal harmonies on the chorus. “My Ship” is a brief, doleful mid-tempo ballad with McCauley’s voice placed lower than usual. It includes varied harmonies that allow the band to delve into classic pop territory. 

 

“The Real Thing, “ the final track on Emotional Contracts, is a nine-minute opus addressing depression, from which McCauley has long suffered. He adds an edge to his voice, while the drums and bass hold down an inexorable groove, and guitars overlap and punctuate the proceedings with clarion chords. The middle section amplifies McCauley’s voice into a distorted mic, which is then responded to by his regular voice in a pain-filled hook. Guitars crest and then are abruptly cut off, only to have the hook return in full throttle. A nettled version of the melody appears in a guitar solo offset by a new keyboard riff, creating a long, instrumental coda. The song denies easy solutions, instead using the sharing of pain as catharsis. 

 

On Emotional Contracts, Deer Tick creates a melange of exuberance and pathos. 

 

-Christian Carey

 

by Christian Carey
Contemporary Classical

Joe Hisaishi: A Symphonic Celebration

Many people’s first exposure to the world of Studio Ghibli and its star director, Hayao Miyazaki, was My Neighbor Totoro. For me, it was Laputa: Castle in the Sky. I will never forget my reaction to the opening sequence, during which Sheeta, the sole living heiress of the eponymous all-but-forgotten realm, falls from an airship. As she hurtles toward the earth below, eyes closed as if resigned to this tragic fate, her crystal necklace begins to glow, imbuing enough power in its slender cord to bring her to the softest of landings into the arms of protagonist Pazu.

Nothing prepared me, however, for the music of Joe Hisaishi. Such emotional circuits are part and parcel of his scoring at its most glorious: building a free fall of anticipation before settling into the inner lives of Miyazaki’s timeless characters. And surely, this conspectus from Deutsche Grammophon provides a long-overdue account of Hisaishi’s melodic gifts. A Symphonic Celebration reminds us of one key reason why Miyazaki’s oeuvre owns so much valuable real estate in the hearts of children and adults alike. Each image has a song.

While Michael Beek’s liner notes rightly place Miyazaki/Hisaishi among the ranks of Spielberg/Williams, Zemeckis/Silvestri, Burton/Elfman, and Fellini/Rota, I might also add Lynch/Badalamenti, especially since the latter dream team closely mirrors the creative process of Hisaishi, who has often composed music for a Miyazaki picture based only on sketches and ideas before a single frame is drawn. Beek goes on to characterize the album’s program as “Joe Hisaishi’s musical vision freed from the bounds of film, but this time given even more space and, if it’s at all possible, even more heart and soul.” This is at once to the album’s credit and detriment.

But first, the music, which begins where it must: with Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984), their inaugural collaboration. As the first of ten reimagined suites, it packs a punch of tympani and orchestral splendor that resolves into the clarion strains of what may be Hisaishi’s most timeless theme. The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra artfully brushes in the details under the composer’s baton. The addition of choir adds a surreal sense of humanity to music for a film that still feels quite distant from who we are now, yet so familiar, while the children’s singing is a haunting remnant of carefree abundance. This sets a tone that can be difficult to read because the suites often shift so quickly from one motif to the other that one’s memories of certain scenes and characters get interrupted. Still, there are some stunning passages to savor, especially in the finale, that recapture some of the magic.

Just as Nausicaä finds its groove toward the end, Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989) is refined from note one, as the wide-eyed wonder of the titular witch setting off for the adventure of independent living blossoms across the foreground. The percussive touches and fervent string playing give way to a creamy center, while the solo violin of Stephen Morris carries a rich emotional cargo. An especially successful arrangement.

Princess Mononoke (1997) tills martial ground, cultivating the soprano of Grace Davidson, who does a splendid job with the Japanese intonation, as also in Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea(2008), while The Wind Rises (2013) introduces the mandolin of Avi Avital for a more cobblestoned sound. The latter points to Miyazaki’s fascination with flight and air travel, as played out further in Castle in the Sky (1986), which is smart for opening with Pazu’s bugled morning call but less so for taking up the theme with choir when the piano was so crucial to the original soundtrack. Moreover, the concluding melodrama feels rather out of character with the film’s tender heart. Thankfully, we get plenty of Hisaishi at the keyboard in Porco Rosso (1992), which evokes its quirky mélange with tasteful subtlety, taken up by clarinet and strings.

The biggest disappointment is Howl’s Moving Castle (2004), which has so much grace and poise in the original, yet here, despite being the longest of the program, seems rushed. That said, it does contain some of Hisaishi’s most masterful work, especially “Merry-Go-Round of Life,” which gloriously consummates a flirtatious appearance early on.

Spirited Away (2001) gives us more of Hisaishi’s distinctive pianism (again, this connects him to Badalamenti, whose keyboard playing was always so grounded in the soul), paired with the breathy vocals of Hisaishi’s daughter, Mai Fujisawa (who also sang the original Nausicäa theme). Her voice is auto-tuned, which is rather odd in a classical album, even as it plays creatively with the fringes of a genre that has grown with the times. If anything, this pop sensibility gives it an interesting appeal.

And so, we return to My Neighbor Totoro (1988), a story seared into my memory after seeing the film literally hundreds of times when it was the only one my three-going-on-four-year-old would watch at the time. Miyazaki himself once characterized Totoro as the embodiment of Japan in its transition into modernism, as evidenced by his parallels with Alice in Wonderland and Mary Poppins, and I have grown to appreciate its depths far more as an adult. Originally shown as the B picture of a double feature after Grave of the Fireflies (directed by studio mate Isao Takahata), it contrasted the reality of a war-torn Japan with the fantasy of a rural imaginary in anticipation of a hopeful future. Hisaishi adds to such inversions, beginning his suite under cover of night, whereas the film opens in the brightness of day.

Perhaps the ultimate question regarding A Symphonic Celebration is whether this music would survive without its cinematic associations. While my bias as someone in whose fibers frames of Miyazaki’s films are deeply embedded leads me toward a “no,” time will tell how it reads to new listeners as a standalone experience. Given that the arrangements are so far from home, I yearn for the moving images and their original sound palettes—missing, for example, the electronics that make Nausicaä and Totoro such delightfully nostalgic productions of their time. And while one could make a strong case for including the Totoro theme song in English since it was such an international success (even if the tessellated choral arrangement lacks the charm of Sonya Isaacs in the Disney dub), I wonder what meaning the English version of Ponyo’s theme song offers to someone ignorant of the film, or to Japanese fans, for that matter. Of course, we cannot necessarily expect the colors and textures to be the same. Still, I would recommend that anyone new to Joe Hisaishi watch, rewatch, and absorb Miyazaki’s films long before putting this album in cue.

by Tyran Grillo
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, File Under?

Timothy Schwarz – The Living American (CD Review)

 

Timothy Schwarz

The Living American

Albany Records

 

Violinist Timothy Schwarz has commissioned, performed, and recorded a number of pieces by contemporary composers. His latest release on Albany, The Living American, is a collection of recent pieces by American composers. 

 

Schwarz takes a “melting pot” approach to his program. It opens with the solo Fantasy on Lama Badaa yatsana,  written by Stephen Sametz, which explores alternate scales with frequent double-stops and harmonics alongside virtuosic melodic writing. Pianist Charles Abramovic joins Schwarz on a set of pieces by musical theater composer Joseph Goodrich. Indeed, C-minor Jam leans much closer to a theatrical version of jazz than one by legit jazzers, but it is an entertaining romp nonetheless. Goodrich’s Lacrimosa is a touching, lyrical work with, as one would suspect, a mournful cast. Schwarz plays emotively, phrasing the music expansively with a variety of  textures. The Machine is a syncopated moto perpetuo, with the piano playing a punctilious ostinato in the bass that is countered by one in the violin with equal verve. 

 

Jennifer Higdon’s String Poetic: Blue Hills of Mist, opens with inside-the-piano work alongside chords to create a swath of overtones. The violin joins with a soaring line that encompasses some of the notes from the piano, adding weight to the overtones. The piano then plays a brooding, mournful accompaniment and the violin counters with a tender, modal melody. Schwarz and Abramovic make an excellent performing pair on this sumptuous work. A warmly hued cadenza accompanied by percussive dampened piano strings follows. The piano plays color chords and the violin once again begins a cadenza, taking stops along the way for sustained notes. The coda ensues, with percussive piano mirroring notes in the violin. A pizzicato note provides a final pitch that is quite a surprise. 

The beginning of Jessie Montgomery’s Rhapsody No. 2 is filled with challenging scalar runs that traverse the entire compass of the instrument. A slow section of harmonics adds a more dissonant harmonic palette. Gradually, a slowed down version of the opening scalar passages, with yearning high notes, takes over. Double stops appear in a speeding up crescendo. The opening gesture returns in a valedictory flourish. 

Reena Esmail’s musical approach combines Eastern and Western elements. This synthesis is abundantly apparent in the solo piece Darshan: Raag charukeshi. Once again, Schwarz is adept at dealing with the requirements of multiple technical approaches. His playing carefully negotiates the microtones and sliding techniques of Esmail’s piece. 

Avner Dorman’s Sonata No. 2 for Violin and Piano begins with a slow boil of angular violin gestures. This is joined by the piano, which plays clouds of harmonies against dissonant leaps in the violin. Multi-stopped passages and yearning melodies are accompanied by enigmatic arpeggiations in the piano. A second section begins with strident harmonics and bass-register piano punctuations. The piano quickens into a brusk ostinato, over which the violin performs aggressive turns through glissandos and slashed multi-stops. The duo build to a ferocious climax, dizzying in intensity. A gradual slowdown concludes with a brief violin solo. Soft, pointillist piano lines abets a low register violin melody that gradually slides up its compass, adding double-stops. A glissando buzzes down to scordatura bass notes, then makes wave shaped lines that continue in a slippery path to silence.

The final work on the recording is a five-movement piece called Australian Sketches. I am puzzled as to why this is included on The Living American. True, the composer Denis Deblasio, is a jazz composer from the US, but why have the longest programmed work be an homage to Australia? If one sets aside this programmatic puzzlement, the music is a real treat. Schwarz and Abramovic are joined by bassist Douglas Mapp, and drummer Doug Hirlinger in a cabaret combo. Like C-minor Jam, this is jazz in a pop context. I am reminded of Stefan Grappelli’s film work (such as his featured role on the Dirty Rotten Scoundrels soundtrack) in Schwarz’s approach to Deblasio’s effervescent creations. The performances are playfully rendered, but artful as well. Given the melting pot approach already in evidence, on second thought, why not invite our friends from Australia to join in the fun?

-Christian Carey


by Christian Carey
CD Review, Chamber Music, File Under?, Strings

Danish String Quartet – Prism V (CD Review)

Danish String Quartet

Prism V

ECM Records

 

This is the last outing in Danish String Quartet’s Prism series. Each of the five recordings has included a late Beethoven string quartet, a related Bach fugue, and a later work influenced by Beethoven. Prism V’s program begins with “Vor deinen Thron tret’ich,” Bach’s chorale prelude BWV 668, arranged for string quartet. It also includes “Contrapunctus 14” from Bach’s Art of Fugue, Anton Webern’s String Quartet (1905), and Beethoven’s String Quartet in F Major, Op. 135.

 

The performance of the chorale prelude is beautiful, played with expressive tone and ardent phrasing, with the Danish Quartet not pretending to be playing on period instruments. It is followed by the Beethoven quartet, the last piece he wrote in this genre and, indeed, one of the last he completed. Unlike the intensity found in some of the other late quartets, such as Op. 131, Op. 135 has a bright, often jocular, demeanor. The first movement, marked Allegretto, is full of puckish feints and gestures from classicism. The Vivace is a roller coaster of syncopations. Movement three, marked Lento assai e cantante tranquillo, is performed with luminous beauty, lyrical phrasing and timbral shadings underscoring its valedictory nature. The final movement incorporates the famous “Es muss sein” motive. The Danish quartet punctuates its appearances, underscoring the intensity of the sentiment to Beethoven. Despite the aging composer’s struggles, there is a triumphant feeling that pervades the last movement, a valediction underscoring Beethoven’s indomitability of spirit.

 

Webern’s String Quartet (1905) is influenced by Beethoven to be sure, but there also is a palpable connection to Webern’s mentor Arnold Schoenberg, particularly his groundbreaking work Verklärkte Nacht. Some of the harmonies and textures adopted by Webern also seem prescient to atonality, a musical scheme that would be explored in the next decade.

 

Contrapunctus 14 has three “soggetti,” or fugal themes. The quartet takes it at a relatively slow tempo. Their blend as a group is well-known, and here it imparts tremendous clarity to the contrapuntal lines. This is the last section of the Art of Fugue, and Bach left it unfinished. The quartet doesn’t adopt any conjectural completion, instead allowing the ending to break off abruptly. In addition to acknowledging Bach’s mortality, perhaps on a personal level, this gesture signifies the Danish quartet’s conclusion of the Prism project. It is an enormously fruitful collection of pieces. One waits with anticipation to see what the Danish String Quartet will next commit to disc. It will surely be as elegantly curated as the Prism series.

 

Christian Carey

 

by Christian Carey
Concert review, Contemporary Classical, Just Intonation, Los Angeles, Microtonalism

PARTCH Ensemble at REDCAT – The Wayward

On June 16 -17, 2023, the Grammy Award-winning PARTCH Ensemble presented two performances of The Wayward, a concert of music by Harry Partch. The Roy and Edna Disney CalArts Theater – REDCAT – was completely sold out for both nights, a testament to the great popularity of Partch’s music. The stage was filled with exotic Partch instruments: the Adapted Viola, Kithera I, Bass and Diamond Marimbas, the Chromelodeon, the Castor and Pollux Canons, among others. All of the most popular Partch pieces were in the program as well as some of those lesser performed. The program notes quoted Harry Partch, who wrote that these works are “A collection of of musical compositions based on the spoken and written words of hobos and other characters – the result of my wanderings in the Western part of the United States from 1935 to 1941.” John Schneider led an ensemble of top Los Angeles musicians and Kyle Gann contributed a new original piece.

Harry Partch was born in Oakland, California in 1901 and grew up in Benson, Arizona and Albuquerque, New Mexico. He took piano lessons and was playing for silent films in theaters while still in high school. His family moved to Los Angeles in 1920 and he attended the USC School of Music for two years. Partch never completed his university training, but moved to San Francisco where he continued with self-directed study and composing. He read a translation of Hermann von Helmholtz’s Sensations of Tone, and this proved to be a turning point. Partch rejected the 12 tone equal temperament tuning of conventional Western music and began to experiment with just intonation and other systems of microtonality.

Partch supported himself with a series of odd jobs including proofreading and teaching piano. He resolved to construct new musical instruments and his first successful project was the Adapted Viola, capable of playing 29 tones to the octave. His early pieces brought recognition from other composers and in 1934 Partch received a grant from the Carnegie Corporation to travel to Europe for further research into alternate tuning at the British Museum. Despite his lack of formal education, Partch was widely read and was able to continue his tuning investigations and instrument construction projects despite the challenges of the Great Depression. The wide array of Partch instruments on the REDCAT stage are the result of his efforts.

The music in The Wayward was composed between 1941 and 1968, allowing Partch to incorporate many of his unique instruments. The pieces were mostly inspired by Partch’s experiences on the road between 1935 and 1941 and generally take the form of a musical running narrative, somewhat like an operetta. The concert opened with Cloud Chamber Music and this featured the Cloud Chamber Bowls ringing out in deep resonant tones above the voices and percussion. Kyle Gann’s Amateur California Prune Picker (2022) followed, a new piece, about which more later. Barstow, that perennial Partch favorite, was next and delighted the crowd with its portrayal of eight hitchhiker inscriptions on a desert highway railing. The performers were all in period costume and the staging, REDCAT lighting and sound systems added greatly to the production values.

San Francisco had two cast members in newsboy costumes walking the aisles of the audience, hawking copies of old 1920s newspapers. The Letter was next and is just the sort of mail you would want to receive from a long-lost friend. For all its gritty economic trauma, Partch describes the Depression with equanimity and a good dose of wit. The music is often fast-paced and rhythmic, especially in the marimbas. The playing was clear cut, and the musicians often took turns conducting to cue entrances and keep everything on track. The PARTCH Ensemble players deserve much credit for performing on the Partch period instruments. These are only accessible for practice a few weeks prior to the show, have unique layouts and are tuned to many exotic pitches. Just reading the part scores is also very demanding. The difficulties are formidable, but the playing in this concert was smooth enough that the listener’s ear soon adapts to the alternate tuning and becomes comfortably immersed the Partch sound world.

The concert program also included Amateur California Prune Picker (2022), a new piece by Kyle Gann. This was performed on a subset of the Partch instruments: Chromelodeon, Adapted Viola, Gourd Tree, Spoils of War, Bass and Diamond Marimbas and the Cloud Chamber Bowls. Gann is an experienced contemporary microtonal composer who could be considered a direct musical descendant of Harry Partch, having studied with Ben Johnston, who, in turn, helped Partch in the construction of his many instruments. Even so, the challenges of composing for original Partch instrumentation are clearly daunting and Gann confessed in the program notes to feeling like an “amateur California prune picker” – an insult often hurled by Partch himself at performers who did not meet his high standards.

While the instrument ensemble on the stage evokes some similarity to the original Partch music, there are major differences. There are no vocals in Gann’s piece – most of Partch’s pieces are lighthearted narratives of depression-era life. The Partch pieces are full of snappy rhythms and light banter and the harmonies seem almost accidental. Gann’s music is more on the cutting edge of contemporary microtonal composing, exploring the emotional power of harmony and melody, with the pitched percussion in a supporting role.

Amateur California Prune Picker begins with sustained tones and a slow tempo. The adapted viola, expressively played by Derek Stein, carries this piece forward with a solemn, introspective feeling. The Chromelodeon and Cloud Chamber add to this. By the last third of the piece the viola line dominates and is very moving. This was not accomplished without difficulty, as Kyle Gann wrote in the program notes: “…I concentrated on the microtonal relationships among the various harmonies, and had to wrestle with the fact that not all of his instruments had the same pitches.” Happily, the effort was worth it. Amateur California Prune Picker is a bridge that brings the Partch tradition up to date; contemporary efforts now are focused on building out the microtonal harmonic language so that it can best express greater emotional power.

The concert concluded with two related Partch pieces: U.S. Highball and Ulysses at the Edge of the World. U.S. Highball is an extended account of a hobo traveling on the rails between San Francisco and Chicago. All of the frustrations and dangers of long-distance travel in empty freight cars are carefully explained: Do not sleep with your head touching the front or rear walls of a box car, or the sudden jerk of a train starting up or stopping quickly could break your neck. There are rail yards that should be avoided because of heavy-handed policing, and one should know what towns have the most – or least – rail traffic so as to avoid getting stuck. How to deal with the extreme cold in an unheated boxcar as the train travels over snowy mountains. Where best to find a meal – even if you have to attend a prayer meeting. The entire route was described – from the scary descent of the train in the Eastern Sierras to the risk of getting stuck in small town Wyoming, to arriving, finally, in Chicago. It is quite a trip.

Ulysses at the Edge of the World forms a sort of coda to U.S. Highball. A hobo, having survived an extended trip by rail arrives in a big city. A trumpet and baritone sax are playing a cheerful improvisation and the hobo gathers himself to take in the conveniences of the town. Just then a policeman arrives, seemingly about to arrest him. A fitting end to the long and exasperating journey.

The PARTCH Ensemble is:

Erin Barnes
Alison Bjorkedal
Tim Feeney
Dustin Donahue
Aron Kallay
Dan Rosenboom
John Schneider
Derek Stein
Nick Terry
Brian Walsh
Alex Wand

by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, File Under?, Vocals

Annika Socolofsky on New Amsterdam (CD Review)

Annika Socolofsky

Don’t Say a Word

Latitude 49

New Amsterdam Records

 

“This unapologetic profession of love and vulnerability is something I have felt denied all my life. And it’s time to reclaim it. These are love songs for the self. These are my feminist rager-lullabies for the new queer era.” – Annika Socolofsky

 

Composer/vocalist Annika Socolofsky works out a great deal of anger on her New Amsterdam recording Don’t Say a Word. She has described herself growing up as a “queer kid” being ostracized. That treatment has subsequently inspired her to examine all sorts of othering in society, from overt discrimination to the subtle indoctrination of lullabies. She is joined by longtime collaborators Latitude 49, a mixed chamber ensemble.

 

“Don’t you cry” begins with ascending echoing chants, each ending with a vibrating sob, subsequently explored in Socolofsky’s alto register. The title track opens with ominous instrumental pulsations. Socolofsky continues to examine vibrating tones, to which are added sneers and moans. These are then accompanied by glissandos, repeated string ostinatos, and reverberant sustained tones from the ensemble. Vocal sounds come to encompass fry and abstract use of language, with a broadening range. Indeed, Socolofsky’s voice encompasses everything from the chest voice chanting of the recording’s opening to high soprano lines controlled with the technique of a concert singer. The piece ends unaccompanied, with pensive reiterations of previous components of the vocal.

 

“Tinker, Tailor” and “Little Boy Blue” both interrogate nursery rhymes, with the aforementioned singing techniques and textual responses to the complex nature of childhood tales. My favorite of the songs is “Like a Diamond,” in which the singer intones warm phrases in one of the “love songs to herself” she has mentioned as a concomitant goal to the expression of her anger at the challenges for her younger self. Socolofsky’s anger is an identifiable and understandable emotion, but her love songs to herself can resonate with others too, and this is a generous gift. 

 

-Christian Carey



by Christian Carey