Amadeus et l’Imperatrice - Montgeroult | Mozart
Elisabeth Pion; Arion Orchestre Baroque; Mathieu Lussier
ATMA ACD2 2885 (atmaclassique.com/enproduct/amadeus-et-limperatrice)

One of the great anecdotes involving the premiere of Felix Mendelssohn’s iconic String Octet in E-flat Major, Op.20 tells us that an audacious listener, not recognising Mendelssohn, is believed to have commented, “Surely that was written by Beethoven?” Jump-cut to a blindfold test – to listen to this disc Amadeus et l’Impératrice without being told these works are by the Hélène de Montgeroult (and Mozart) – to determine who composed each work. 

Indeed, all Montgeroult’s works represented here, particularly her superb Concerto pour pianoforte No 1 en mi bémol majeur evoke a genius not unlike Mozart’s. This Concerto as performed here by the Arion Orchestre Baroque conducted by Mathieu Lussier, with Élisabeth Pion eloquently laying out the solo parts on fortepiano, is a flawless performance, worthy of heralding the composer’s unbridled genius vis-à-vis Mozart. 

Montgeroult enriches orchestral sonority by employing a wide range of instruments. The clearly defined wind section in this concerto, emphasises the conversational exchanges between wind and strings in the outer movements. Throughout Pion parades a graceful and tender style while displaying the marvellous rapport between soloist and orchestra. 

In a masterstroke, the sandwiching of Mozart’s grand and dark Concerto No 24 en do mineur K491 between Montgeroult’s eloquent works suggests that she is – if nothing else – every bit as adventurous and ingenious as Mozart, Amadeus et l’Impératrice indeed…!

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Haydn Symphonies - Mercury & La Passione
Tafelmusik; Rachel Podger
Tafelmusik Media TMK 1041CD (tafelmusik.org/meet-tafelmusik/recordings)

Over 30 years ago, when Tafelmusik was coming into its own as a world-class period instrument orchestra, they signed a multi-record deal with Sony Classical and set out on an ambitious voyage to record Haydn symphonies (and other repertoire) with the jovial German conductor Bruno Weil and the legendary producer Wolf Erichson. The relationship with Weil was transformative and I would argue that their collaborative exploration bred an innate flair for – and deep understanding of – Classical style that continues today.

 Their newest recording – on their own Tafelmusik Media label – of symphonies 43 and 49 is full of attention to the minute details of Haydn’s quirky writing and is a welcome reminder of the ensemble’s virtuosity and breadth of expression. Haydn wrote the Symphony in F Minor No.49 (“La Passione”) in 1768, during what is known as his “sturm und drang” period, one that saw an astounding growth in his technique, planting the seeds and foreshadowing the German Romantic era that was to come decades later. Tafelmusik’s performance – directed from the violin by newly-appointed Principal Guest Conductor Rachel Podger – absolutely nails the colour, transparency, dramatic energy and harmonic tension present in every measure of this fantastic work.

The so-called “Mercury” Symphony No.43 was actually written three years later and is a sunny contrast to the broodiness of “La Passione.” It’s still packed with innovation and angst and the orchestra brings this out beautifully. How fabulous that one can compare this performance with Tafelmusik’s 1992 studio recording with Weil: both powerful, wonderful and full of life in quite different ways.

Beethoven
Marc-André Hamelin
Hyperion CDA68456 (hyperion-records.co.uk/dc.asp?dc=D_CDA68456)

Given Marc-André Hamelin’s unimpeachable technical prowess, it is no surprise that he tackles the epic Hammerklavier Sonata for his first recording of music by Beethoven. Hamelin’s tempos are rapid, though well under Beethoven’s unreasonably fast metronome markings. This allows lyrical passages to breathe expressively, and for Hamelin to apply a variety of colouring to Beethoven’s many surprising harmonic shifts. Hamelin’s Steinway piano has been recorded in a very reverberant acoustic, and while this creates a flattering halo around slower-moving cantabile passages (the slow movement’s opening and the D major central section in the finale), it also obscures the detail of fast passagework and the thorny counterpoint of the outer movements, while blurring the edges between Beethoven’s very frequent sudden dynamic changes. Hamelin’s generous use of pedal further clouds the texture and results in the occasional disregard for rests and note lengths.

Unsurprisingly, the wild fourth movement fugue of the Hammerklavier is dispatched with exciting technical security. More surprisingly, this does not conclude the album, but instead we jump back 23 years to continue with Beethoven’s third published sonata, Op.2 No.3 in C Major. This early work benefits from Hamelin’s crisp articulations and sparkling passage work – though again the reverberant acoustic blunts some impact. The first movement is suitably muscular, the second serene though with a marked agitation in the contrasting minor section, the scherzo is confidently playful and the finale sparklingly virtuosic. Caveats: The close recording results in a harshness of tone in the loudest moments, and purists may not approve of Hamelin’s adding of bass octaves not available on the pianos of Beethoven’s time. 

Mahler – Symphony 3
Jennifer Johnston; Women of the Minnesota Chorale; Minnesota Boychoir; Minnesota Orchestra; Osmo Vanska
BIS 2486 (minnesotaorchestra.org)

Mahler – Symphony No.8
Soloists; Minnesota Chorale; National Lutheran Choir; Minnesota Boychoir; Angelica Cantanti Youth Choir; Minnesota Orchestra; Osmo Vanska
BIS BIS-2496 (minnesotaorchestra.org)

The final two installments of Osmo Vänskä’s ongoing Mahler cycle have landed and the box set is now on sale. (Caveat: the Cooke version of the fragmentary Tenth Symphony is included, but there is no performance of Das Lied von der Erde.) These two recordings were patched together from live performances from Vänskä’s final appearances in 2022 after 19 years at the helm of the Minnesota orchestra.

Judging by the performance of the Third Symphony, this orchestra and its conductor have developed a fine rapport over the years and deliver some very lovely playing. Winds and brass are outstanding and the string section is extraordinarily supple, though Vänskä’s party trick of pulling back the orchestra to near inaudibility remains an annoying SACD inspired gimmick to my ears. Initially won over by the exceptional recording from the BIS recording team, certain aspects of the interpretation now strike me as less admirable. Beautiful though the recording may sound, there is an atmosphere of directorial micro-management that loses sight of the over-arching structure of the work. There are beautiful trees to behold indeed, but nary a view of the forest. 

Of the six movements of this, the longest symphony in the active repertoire, the performance of the short inner movements fare best. But as to the lengthy first and sixth movements, Vänskä’s reach is beyond his grasp. Nowhere is this more evident than in the final six pages of the concluding Adagio; from figure 28 preceding the reprise of the main theme Mahler writes “Langsam anschwellen” (slowly swelling); the effect in, for example, Leonard Bernstein’s landmark performance, is a thrilling, painful struggle to the summit of glory. Here we find a routine ritardando that somehow wanders into a pedestrian fortissimo. Amongst recent recordings I would suggest seeking out Manfred Honeck’s 2010 Pittsburgh performance on the Exton label instead, a fine example of what a true Mahler evangelist can bring to this score.

I must confess to an abiding ambivalence about Mahler’s Eighth Symphony, the so-called “Symphony of a Thousand.” Teeming with what T.W. Adorno called “the ceremonial pretensions of the obviously fugal manner,” the two parts of the work are set to the Catholic hymn Veni Creator Spiritus and the closing scene of Goethe’s Faust, a pair of uncharacteristically crowd-pleasing choices from a man whose works are essentially about his inner self. It’s as if Mahler was saying to his carping, anti-Semitic critics, “Don’t you see? I am one of you!” Composed swiftly in the span of six weeks, he proclaimed the work his “gift to the nation” and dedicated it to his wife Alma.  

Successful performances of this monumental work depend very much on the casting of the seven vocal soloists and in this case they are well chosen indeed. Sonically however the massive choral forces, recorded at the height of the covid panic, are constrained by the wearing of masks. Despite discreet tweaking by the BIS recording team the softer portions of the work remain distinctly muffled. I was also disappointed by the woefully underpowered contributions from the organ. Within the context of this Mahler cycle it is one of the more successful efforts, but Vänskä’s direction again strikes me as intrinsically unfocused.

Prokofiev: Piano Concertos 2 & 3, Piano Sonata No.7
Stewart Goodyear; BBC Symphony Orchestra; Andrew Litton
Orchid Classics ORC100335 (orchidclassics.com/releases/orc100335-stewart-goodyear-prokofiev)

Sergei Prokofiev began his musical career as a concert pianist, so perhaps it should come as no surprise that his extensive output would include six piano concertos and ten sonatas in addition to innumerable other piano works. This splendid recording on the Orchid Classics label presents the second and third concertos and the Sonata No.7 featuring Canadian pianist Stewart Goodyear with the BBC Symphony under the direction of Andrew Litton.

Concerto No.2 was completed in 1912, but was revised and not premiered for another 12 years when it was met with both praise and derision from the audience. Deviating from the traditional concerto form, the piece comprises four contrasting movements. Throughout, Goodyear plays with a polished assurance, demonstrating an impeccable technique particularly in the horrendously difficult cadenza concluding the first movement and the relentless Allegro tempestoso finale.

The third and most famous of Prokofiev’s concertos was premiered by the composer in Chicago in 1921. Opening with a lyrical introduction, the piece soon launches into a brisk Allegro performed here at a slightly faster tempo than is sometimes heard. Again, Goodyear demonstrates immaculate virtuosity, emphasizing the work’s mischievous nature while under Litton’s competent baton, the BBSO is a solid and sensitive partner delivering a lively and joyful performance.

The second of three sonatas Prokofiev composed during the Second World War, the Piano Sonata No.7 was very much a product of its time. The first movement is marked by a dark and angry tone, while the second is a calm respite before a strident perpetuum mobile brings the recording to a dramatic conclusion.

Kudos to you, Mr. Goodyear – you indicated in the notes you had wanted to record Prokofiev since the pandemic and now was the right time. Most decidedly, it was well worth the wait.

Songs for a New Century
Jonathan Miller; Lucia Lin; Randall Hodgkinson; Marc Ryser
Navona Records nv6623 (navonarecords.com/catalog/nv6623)

Jonathan Miller, long-time Boston Symphony Orchestra cellist and founding artistic director of the Boston Artists Ensemble, commissioned well-established American composers Gabriela Lena Frank and Scott Wheeler along with Judith Weir, Britain’s current Master of the King’s Music, to bring Mendelssohn’s concept of “songs without words” into “a new century.”

The disc opens with Mendelssohn himself, his Song without Words, Op.109 for cello and piano and five Songs without Words for piano, arranged by Mendelssohn’s friend, cellist Alfredo Piatti. Miller and pianist Marc Ryser find some dark drama within these graceful pieces, often considered lightweight.

Miller and violinist Lucia Lin perform Frank’s duo Operetta. I found all five movements pervaded by agitated discontent. Operettas typically attempt to make people smile; this one doesn’t.

Pianist Randall Hodgkinson joins Miller in Weir’s Three Chorales. In Angels Bending Near the Earth, the cello gently swings up and down over piano tinkles. In Death’s Dark Vale moves from gloom to hopefulness. O Sapienza, variations on a Hildegard von Bingen hymn, features long-lined lyricism from the cello amid irregular piano splashes.

Miller and Ryser reunite in Wheeler’s Cello Sonata No.2 “Songs without Words,” composed, writes Wheeler, in his upstate New York woodlands studio. In Among the trees, abrupt piano discords punctuate the perturbed cello line. Unaccompanied pizzicati in the cello’s lowest register dominate Forest at night. The cello resumes its moody musings in Barcarolle before joining with the piano to conclude this CD with lyrical optimism.

Rooted
Neave Trio
Chandos CHAN 20272 (neavetrio.com/discography)

“Tradition-rooted” folk music links this CD’s compositions, vividly performed by America’s Neave Trio. Bedřich Smetana wrote his 27-minute Piano Trio, Op.15 (1855) shortly after his four-year-old daughter’s death from scarlet fever. Anguished outbursts fill the first movement, briefly interrupted by sweet, simple melodies, perhaps representing little Bedřiška. The second movement features folk-like dances, ranging from gently poignant to ponderously brutal. The finale alternates between a wild Presto, a precursor to the Furiant in Smetana’s Bartered Bride, and a heartbreakingly beautiful melody, an ambiguous conclusion to this emotional roller-coaster.

The other works are shorter, each around 16 minutes. Josef Suk even called his piece Petit Trio, Op.2, completed while studying with Antonin Dvořák (Suk later married Dvořák’s daughter Otilie). Like Smetana, Suk composed a series of Czech folk-flavoured dances, less dramatic but cheerfully robust and sentimental.

Samuel Coleridge-Taylor arranged Five Negro Melodies from his Twenty-four Negro Melodies (1905) for piano. Sometimes I feel like a motherless child leads the group; I was unfamiliar with the others. As with many works Coleridge-Taylor derived from African or African-American sources, I found these arrangements essentially European in style and feeling, with minimal ethnic authenticity.

The two outer movements of Swiss composer Frank Martin’s Trio sur des mélodies populaires irlandaises (1925) readily conjure images of Irish countryfolk dancing rumbustiously to the squealing of bagpipes. In the middle movement, the cello croons a love song over harp-like piano sparkles. A happy ending to a disc that began with tears.

Exodus
The Orchestra Now; Leon Botstein
Avie Records AV2713 (avie-records.com/releases/exodus-walter-kaufmann-•-marcel-rubin-•-josef-tal)

During the 1930s, some Jews able to make their own “exoduses” fled Nazism, including the composers on this CD: Walter Kaufmann (1907-1984) went to India, Marcel Rubin (1905-1995) to France, Josef Tal (1910-2008) to Palestine.

Recognition of Kaufmann has accelerated since my September 2020 WholeNote review of Kaufmann’s debut CD by Toronto’s ARC Ensemble. In the June 2024 WholeNote I reviewed the first CD of his orchestral works, praising his Indian Symphony (1943) for its “soulful woodwind solos, pulsating strings, dramatic brass and percussion.” Here’s a second recording of that symphony. At 17:32, nearly two minutes longer than the previous recording, conductor Leon Botstein’s performance enhances the music’s exotic atmosphere and grandeur.

Conceived during wartime, Rubin’s powerful, 34-minute Symphony No.4 “Dies Irae” (1945, rev.1972) was revised when the disillusioned Rubin, reacting to contemporary events, replaced two optimistic movements with the grim Pastorale. The dirge-like opening Kinderkreuzzug 1939 takes its title from Bertolt Brecht’s poem (included in the booklet) describing “lost children” fleeing “the nightmare.” The four-note motto of the medieval Day of Wrath chant dominates the second movement’s sardonic march; the chant then underlines the Pastorale’s passacaglia, wandering through painful memories before ending meditatively.

Tal’s 23-minute Exodus (1947), composed during the outbreak of hostilities prior to the UN’s establishment of Israel, employs biblical verses from Exodus and Psalms, emphatically sung in Hebrew by brawny-voiced baritone Noam Heinz. Botstein and The Orchestra Now generate brilliantly-coloured sonorities from Tal’s “Hollywood epic”-style score.

Scelsi – Integrals des quatuors a cordes; Trio a cordes
Quatuor Molinari
ATMA ACD2 2849 (atmaclassique.com/en/product/giacinto-scelsi-complete-string-quartets-and-string-trio)

Italian composer Giacinto Scelsi wrote some of the most sublime music of the past century. It’s also some of the most radical. He was notoriously secretive, even forbidding photos of himself.  Yet these string quartets, which span a forty-year period, are so personal that heard together they reveal much about this remarkable composer whose musical language was transformed by a profound spiritual awakening. 

This is the first complete recording of Scelsi’s five string quartets since the legendary Arditti Quartet’s from 1990. It’s a significant addition to the Montreal-based Molinari Quartet’s invaluable series of complete string quartets by key modern composers. The Molinari brings the precision and clarity required for the close listening Scelsi’s music demands, plus a contemplative soulfulness. ATMA’s stellar sound does the rest. 

You can already hear Scelsi pushing boundaries in the post-Schoenbergian String Quartet No.1 from 1944 – the gong effects, the pitch-bending. But after a devastating mental breakdown he came to reject its engaging rhythms, intricate counterpoint, complex harmony and delightful thematic developments.

 Immersing himself in theosophy and eastern religions, Scelsi spent months at the piano repeating one note over and over. He eventually switched to an Ondioline, an early electronic keyboard. It allowed him to explore the infinity of sounds contained in a single pitch through alterations like microtones, vibrato, glissandi and ostinato. The searing Trio from 1958 initiates his new language, a year before his acknowledged breakthrough work, Quattro Pezzi su una nota solo. 

 The more expansive Second Quartet followed two years later. There’s an especially thrilling passage which reveals the Molinari’s mastery of Scelsi’s strange and wonderful style when the heightened drama of the fourth movement resolves into the dreamy incantations of the last movement. He gave each of the five movements of the Third Quartet titles describing conflict, liberation and catharsis, though there’s more catharsis than conflict. In the more fraught Fourth Quartet the Molinari unfurls an enthralling sweep of colours and textures in a single movement. 

 The Fifth Quartet was Scelsi’s last major work. Distilled into seven transcendent minutes, it serves as a fitting memorial to this remarkable composer.

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Gabriel Dharmoo – Vestiges d’une fable
Members of NACO; Gary Kulesha
Centrediscs CMCCD 34324 (cmccanada.org/shop/cmccd-34324)

Gabriel Dharmoo makes you laugh and then wonder if that was the right response, and then laugh again. So yes, it is fine to hear and feel the mirth behind the title track of his recent release: Vestiges d’une Fable (2014, current arrangement 2023) for voice (originally for soprano but here the composer’s own) with flute cello and piano. The musicians on the disc are select members of the National Arts Centre Orchestra, conducted by Gary Kulesha. The players are excellent, and Kulesha very capably marshals their forces. 

Dharmoo produces theatrical, evocative, even surreal music. Vestiges references his mocumentary performance piece Anthropolgies imaginaires, and the fog in our poise (2016) “evokes the ceremonial music of an imaginary culture” per the liner notes. Like the writer Jorge Luis Borges, Dharmoo posits alternate worlds from which to explore our own. His voice in Vestiges seems drawn from an alien cabaret, or one where the creatures we know sing text we can almost understand. The final track, sur les rives de (2011), gives us his impressions of the opposite and contrasting banks of the Ganges river. 

Moondaal Moondru (2010) at 18:10 is the substantial centre-weight of the disc, the piece comes in taut sections, with virtuosic outbursts sometimes punctuating a droning whine. Dharmoo lacks nothing in orchestrational skill, and his moods are clearly if unsettlingly depicted. There’s a roll and a rhythm to the music, and I suggest you move with the underlying pulse to best experience it. 

Amy Brandon – Lysis
Various Artists
New Focus Recordings FCR414 (newfocusrecordings.com/catalogue/amy-brandon-lysis)

Canadian guitarist/composer Amy Brandon has created a fantastical series of journeys with her latest album Lysis (defined by dictionary.com as “…refer(ring) to the breakdown of a cell caused by damage to its plasma (outer) membrane).” Brandon nails the deconstruction aspect in an almost delicious spectacle of all things human and otherworldly. Cells break down on one level and are reconstructed on another. Brandon deftly manages to create parallel voices that beautifully ignore, while simultaneously hearing, each other, almost as two separate cultures managing to co-exist. 

Opening with the brilliant Microchimersisms for solo flute, we enter a world of roaring lions, whispers and outbursts of exhalations, masterfully delivered by flutist Sara Constant. Threads for string trio follows, a tightly wound exploration of a submarine-like journey. Alternate tunings are featured in Intermountainous where the guitar delivers almost pastoral material, underscored by dark and aerie ambience that intertwines and comes apart. Caduceus for two cellos and electronics is strangely combative while expertly weaving microtones in and out of one voice. The track Tsyir is an almost trance-like swim in partial harmonics, while Affine travels between breathy phrasing of repeated notes and upper pitches of winds and low piano. 

Now we arrive at Simulacra, the album’s JUNO-nominated show-stopper for cello solo and orchestra. This full orchestral score, with its dynamic and driving rhythms, sets up a virtuosic and melodic cello line that soars into stratospheric heights and returns to the depths. Cellist Jeffrey Zeigler pulls out all the stops with a stunning, heroic performance. 

The album closes with the work Lysis for string quartet; a complex exploration of the upper partials of the harmonic series, this piece also mines the symbiotic relationship between the nuances of pitch and colour realised by different bow pressures, while also exploding apart from it. As with the entire album, it’s not necessary to contemplate the mathematics of the writing, just enjoy the results.

Paolo Griffin – Supports & Surfaces
David Zucchi; Duo Holz; David Hackston; electronics
Sawyer Editions SE028 (sawyereditions.bandcamp.com/album/paolo-griffin-supports-surfaces)

Imagine the challenge of having to approach music of Supports & Surfaces being told that all of the sonic quivering, undulating and often hypnotic ellipses of sounds were just “a series of pitch classes, whole numbers of octaves apart.” Try realigning that part of your brain that hears sound and redirecting your inner ear to tune into the pitch class of the frequently caressed, the note(s) C (or D, E, F or G). Lost in stultifying academia yet? 

Fear not. There is much more to this meandering, hypnotically repetitious music. Its evocative gamelan-like sound is redolent of Zen-inflected gongs, whooshing woodwinds, yammering drums and hissing cymbals, the dazzling arco wail of the violin, all heated by the soaring countertenor voice. 

Suddenly you will find yourself free of a proverbial desk in academia, despite perhaps encountering complicated pitch integers in the sonically charming music by Paolo Griffin. 

Bending notes in the light and shadow of Griffin directs David Zucchi to employ alto saxophone and the ululations of atmospheric electronics to explore The Purpose of an Empty Room. You will emerge from the dizzying geometry of this musical space with a sense of enrichment and delight. Next, violinist Aysel Taghi-Zada and percussion colourist Michael Murphy describe the stasis of being Alone, Together. Finally on Madrigal, countertenor David Hackston melds voice and electronics to spellbinding effect.

Gilles Silvestrini – Oboe in Hues
Nermis Mieses
Navona Records nv6638 (navonarecords.com/catalog/nv6638)

Nermis Mieses’ new album, Oboe in Hues, offers a fascinating and bold exploration of the oboe’s capabilities through five challenging solo works by French oboist-composer Gilles Silvestrini. With its focus on rarely-heard compositions, this album stands out as a celebration of both the instrument and its performer.

Silvestrini’s compositions push the oboe to its limits, incorporating techniques that evoke harp and piano sounds, mimic bird calls and explore extreme registers. These elements, coupled with note bends, flutter tonguing and multiphonics, provide a rich and varied sonic palette. Mieses, a Puerto Rican-American oboist known for her artistry and virtuosity, rises to the challenge with a performance that is both technically impressive and emotionally resonant.

The album opens with Les Lusiades, a piece inspired by Luís de Camões’ 1572 poem and intended as an opera for solo oboe. Mieses adeptly contrasts different characters and paints vivid imagery with her clear articulations and warm, mellow tone. Her ability to shift seamlessly between expressive passages and advanced techniques brings the work’s dramatic intent to life.

In Horae Volubiles Silvestrini draws inspiration from Stefano da Verona’s painting La Vierge à la rosaire. Mieses brings this experimental work to vivid life through modern techniques and mournful legato lines. Cinq Études Russes offers a unique homage to five iconic Russian composers: Shostakovich, Rachmaninoff, Prokofiev, Scriabin and Stravinsky. Each étude weaves melodies from these composers into its fabric, providing a rich and varied listening experience. Mieses’ interpretation brings out the distinct character of each piece, showcasing her ability to navigate complex and evocative musical landscapes. Six Études Pittoresques contrasts historical and literary figures and settings, from Genghis Khan’s cruelty against the pastoral Mongolian countryside to Hans Christian Andersen’s tales, and the compositional rivalry between Elgar and Britten. The breadth of these études pushes both the instrument and performer to their limits, and Mieses’ performance is nothing short of masterful.

Finally, Six Études pour hautbois, inspired by Claude Monet’s paintings, is Silvestrini’s most celebrated work among oboists. The impressionistic nature of these études, with their whole tone scales and evocative portrayal of waves, is brought to life with Mieses’ vibrant and technically assured playing.

Ellen Taaffe Zwilich – Symphony No.5
Boston Modern Orchestra Project; Gil Rose
BMOP Sound 1098 (bmop.org/audio-recordings/ellen-taaffe-zwilich-symphony-no-5)

Thank the Boston Modern Orchestra Project, an institution of similar scope to Toronto’s Esprit Orchestra, for the release of this collection of pieces by the accomplished and celebrated American composer Ellen Taaffe Zwilich. As an overture, Upbeat (1998) jumps in with both feet dancing along to Bach’s E Major solo violin partita, turned into a fiddle tune that then disappears under boisterous percussion, raising itself again and again through the work’s brief but rowdy four minutes. 

This leaves one unprepared for the deeply melancholic mood of the next piece. In her notes, Zwilich describes having to rouse herself from mourning the loss of her second husband (having married and been widowed once before) while trying to fulfill a commission for a work for solo flute and orchestra. What finally arose was this Concerto Elegia (2015), beautifully performed here by flutist Sarah Brady. At times I hear a similarity to Shostakovich’s haunting slow movement of his second piano concerto. Zwilich writes “I remember sitting at the dress rehearsal and just crying… I still have a hard time listening to it.”   

Far different is Commedia dell’Arte written for Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg in 2012. Set for string orchestra and percussion (sometimes played by the string players themselves), it depicts three of the stock characters in each of the first three movements, notably the third: Capitano is a blustering blowhard, a phony who might evoke a certain character in the presidential race. Performed here by concertmaster Gabriela Diaz, it’s a delightful romp. 

The final four tracks are a showpiece originally written for the Juilliard orchestra. Naming the work Symphony No.5 (2008) speaks to Zwilich’s philosophy, in which she cherishes the western art music tradition. She also seems to enjoy sheer American band-itry and bombast. Great disc.

The Petrified Forest Project
Rhonda Rider
Ravello Records RR8103 (ravellorecords.com/catalog/rr8103)

Cellist Rhonda Rider is no stranger to playing in interesting locations, having been Artist-in-Residence previously at the Grand Canyon in 2011, and later at the Petrified Forest National Park in 2015. As cello professor at Boston Conservatory at Berklee, she brings her vast experiences with classical and contemporary performance, enabling her to explore these newly commissioned compositions with skill and ease. The connection to the beautiful surroundings is clearly evident throughout the album, as Rider pairs the compositions with each setting that inspired them, in this 200-million-year-old ecosystem.

The album opens with Raven Chacon’s Invisible Arc, inspired by a traditional Navajo hunting song, and Laurie San Martin’s Vast steppe, based on Gregorian Chant, which includes changing the cello’s tuning and some improvisations juxtaposing old and new, as does the park itself. Kurt Rohde’s credo petrified for amplified cello is a beautiful lamenting conversation that considers “the unadorned ritual of forgotten deaths… dying its own gradual death at a glacial pace becoming sonic dust.” Pari is a four-movement suite by Mischa Salkind-Pearl that takes its movement titles from flora native to the park; a delicate composition sketching the thriving nature of these seeds in such a dry area. 

The theme of old and new continues with Verklärtes Holz (Transfigured Wood). Beginning with the title, a reference to Arnold Schoenberg’s Verklärte Nacht, it illustrates the parallels between natural and artificial processes of transformation: the petrified wood beginning as living redwoods, swept away by floods, buried and mineralized; vs wood over time becoming a cello, a picturesque description in three movements and a fitting addition to an album both based on wood and performed on wood. The album ends with Ian Gottleib’s Meditation on Impatience, and Rider passionately portrays the colourful, cinematic exploration of layers of sediment in the forest’s Badlands of this truly ancient ecological wonder.