Sanata: Stillness
Kiran Ahluwalia
Independent MTM-CD-930 (kiranmusic.com)

The release of Indian-Canadian singer and songwriter Kiran Ahluwalia’s sixth album Sanata: Stillness, provides copious confirmation that her songs are “one of global music’s most interesting adventures.” Ever since Ahluwalia‘s first CD in 2001, it seems each new album marks new regions of personal musical growth, accompanied by evolving instrumentation and stylistic components. Recorded in Toronto, Sanata, as does her touring group, features some of the city’s top world musicians. Among them number percussionist maestro Mark Duggan and bassists extraordinaire Rich Brown and Andrew Downing.

In my September 2014 WholeNote cover feature on Ahluwalia, I observed that her geo-musical expansiveness is a result “of her careful listening to yet another [geo-cultural] zone of our world. She has [further] shown a continued eagerness to contest the borders of her musical comfort zones in live performance.”

Sanata provides ample proof of that process of exploration and synthesis at work. We hear Ahluwalia’s signature masala of her unique interpretation of Indo-Pakistani ghazal and Punjabi folk song, rendered in her expressive yet unstrained vibrato-less voice. It’s hung on a solid backbone of years of classical Hindustani musical training. Her gift for crafting catchy melodies is evidenced in her songs; I’m guessing a key feature in their audience appeal.

Another significant strand is the addition of pungent echoes of Saharan blues guitar, as in her award-winning 2011 CD Aam Zameen: Common Ground. It grounds the title track and also propels “Hayat” with a swaggering groove at just the right tempo. The superbly supple electric guitar accompaniments are provided by her American husband Rez Abbasi, who is also the album’s arranger and producer. Abbasi gets a chance to show his ample jazz guitarist cred in his “Tamana” solo and elsewhere.

While the album is carefully woven together with jazz-forward and sometimes rock-infused arrangements, “Jhoom” and “Lament,” the two songs in the qawwali tradition, return the album’s musical topography and transport the listener – via many transcontinental byways – to the Subcontinent.

Animism
Tanya Tagaq
Six Shooter Records (tanyatagaq.com)

This album is a profound exploration of transcultural confrontation and transformation as expresed through the magical qualities and healing power of sound. Featuring the brilliant vocalism of Inuk avant-garde throat singer Tanya Tagaq, Animism synergistically merges her indigenous rights activism with the expressive force of her art. Not simply a typical “wordless protest album” however, its release promptly caused significant critical acclaim. To cap it off, Tagaq won the 2014 Polaris Music Prize, presented annually for the “best Canadian album regardless of genre or sales,” becoming its first indigenous recipient.

To be sure, the involvement of the polished improv-based musicality of her regular accompanists, Toronto drummer Jean Martin and the B.C.-based violinist, producer and arranger Jesse Zubot, is essential to every track.

Tagaq’s vocal art lives in zones of layered, multiple hybridity, a foundational feature of which is her free improv performance strategy. Paradoxically however, this CD’s first song is a cover of the Pixies’ “Caribou” (1987) sung in a “standard” (that is non-throat singing) voice by Tagaq and masterfully arranged with the addition of synth, horn and string parts by Zubot. Comparing it to the original Pixies’ recording, I prefer this album’s extended version, still rocking in sections yet musically convincing us without strumming a single guitar chord.

The pop-oriented “Caribou” is an exceptional case here, however. Other songs like Rabbit propose an almost cinematic soundscape. Atop field recordings of northern soundscapes by Michael Red, and Zubot’s significant contributions, Tagaq’s vocalise transforms itself effortlessly from human to animal sounds and back.

The music on the innovative Animism, though sonically and emotionally rooted in the arctic, is nevertheless poised to move audiences no matter where they live.

The Originals (Deutsche Grammophon 4793449), 50 CDs in the now familiar compact cube, is an exceptional collection of outstanding performances from the second half of the 20th century that are significant in three aspects: repertoire, performance and sound. The composers range from Bach to Orff performed by artists who were acknowledged masters of the works chosen for inclusion in this edition beginning with Bach – the Oistrakhs’ Violin Concertos and Pierre Fournier’s Cello Suites; Beethoven with the Fifth and Seventh Symphonies by Carlos Kleiber; the Sixth from Böhm and Karajan’s 1963 Ninth. Wilhelm Kempff plays the fourth and fifth concertos (BPO/Leitner) and four sonatas.

Throughout the 50 discs, the reality of the remastered sound is a revelation and at times startling. For example, the patrician performance of the Mahler First with Rafael Kubelik, taken from his complete edition, is a reminder of this conductor’s always intuitive readings of whatever he conducted, heard here in freshly minted, realistic sound. Carl Orff’s remarkable Carmina Burana received its definitive recording in October 1967 conducted by Eugen Jochum under Orff’s personal supervision with an all-star cast including Gundula Janowitz, Gerhard Stolze and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau. That recording, heard on disc 33 of this set, is a model of remastering, sounding a tad cleaner than the original Originals single CD.

Karl Böhm’s entries include his celebrated versions of Magic Flute, Tristan and Isolde and the late Mozart symphonies. This set is a well-considered collection of close to 100 works of symphonic music, concertos, chamber music, instrumental solos and vocal music of interest to music lovers and audiophiles alike. Check out full contents on the DG site and listen to samples from every track in the set at deutschegrammophon.com/en/cat/4793449.

Ask the average music lover if they like Rachmaninov and the usual answer is a knowing yes. They mention the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini and the Second Piano Concerto and perhaps the Prelude in C-Sharp Minor. Then they are obliged to repeat the usual demeaning put-down about the four piano concertos being merely one concerto orchestrated four times. What a surprise then that Decca could devise a 32 CD set of Rachmaninov: The Complete Works (4786765) performed by top-notch orchestras and conductors, chamber groups, choruses, soloists et al., recorded over the years when the performers were in their prime.

Disc one, track one is, rather appropriately, the aforementioned prelude played by Vladimir Ashkenazy followed by the complete Op.23 and Op. 32 Preludes. Ashkenazy is featured many times in the collection both as pianist and conductor. Some of the works he plays are the four piano concertos and the Paganini Variations all conducted by André Previn; the First and Third Symphonies, the Symphonic Dances, the “Youth” Symphony and The Bells, all with the Concertgebouw Orchestra. The symphonic poems, Prince Rostislav and The Rock and Five Etudes-Tableaux (orchestrated by Respighi), the Scherzo in D minor, and Vocalise are all with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra. On disc 32 Ashkenazy very frankly discusses Rachmaninov and his music.

There are many other artists, of course, Mikhail Pletnev, Sviatoslav Richter, Zoltán Kocsis, Jorge Bolet, Alexis Weissenberg, Martha Argerich, Nelson Freire, Byron Janis, the Beaux Arts Trio, Olga Borodina, Neeme Järvi and many others. Here is the chance to get to hear the entire published works by Rachmaninov including all the operas and not to be missed, the complete songs sung by Elizabeth Söderström. Complete contents and excerpts can be found at deccaclassics.com/en/cat/4786765.

Thirty-five years after her premature death at the age of 54, Hungarian violinist Johanna Martzy is still an icon among violin aficionados and record collectors. In addition to a spectacular concert career, working as soloist with luminaries such as Bernstein, Szell, Cluytens, Fricsay, Kletzki and Sawallisch, Martzy was featured as a recording artist of two of the world’s leading companies, Deutsche Grammophon and EMI. In addition to these recordings, documents of her live performances are much sought after. DOREMI has issued a third volume of mostly unreleased live performances and radio broadcasts (DHR-8034/5, 2 CDs). Gems include a 1959 radio recital from Johannesburg, preserved in pristine sound of works from Vivaldi to Bartók. A pleasant revelation in these tracks is her empathetic partner, the South African pianist, Adolph Hallis (virtuoso pupil of Theodor Leschetizky). Here is real music making! Also heard are two stylish viewpoints of Mozart’s third violin concerto (both 1961) and an impassioned Bartók’s First Rhapsody with George Szell (Cleveland 1960). The set ends with the finest performance I know of Suk’s Four Pieces for Violin and Piano, Op.17. In this sparkling performance from 1969 she is partnered by the fine Hungarian pianist, István Hajdu (Arthur Grumiaux’s accompanist).

Similar to the repertoire presented in volumes one and two, DOREMI’s Martha Argerich Volume 3 (DHR-8030) includes her live performances when around age 20. Argerich shot to world fame when she won the 1965 Chopin Competition in Warsaw. She has maintained her status to this day and listening to her early performances, her magic was already in evidence. Over her long career, she came to prefer presenting music with others, playing in chamber groups and as soloist with orchestra. This CD opens with a vivacious rendition of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No.7 Op.10, No.3 in which the Largo is uniquely introspective and, as they say, worth the price of the disc. Then an elegant Schumann Kinderszenen and an animated Toccata Op.7 and Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No.6. Finally, a brilliant performance of Prokofiev’s Third Piano Concerto accompanied by Carl Melles conducting the Cologne Radio Symphony Orchestra. The sound throughout the disc is first-rate.

Chopin – Complete Mazurkas
Janina Fialkowska
ATMA ACD2 2682

Chopin – 24 Preludes
Alain Lefèvre
Analekta AN 2 9287

Chopin – Preludes
Ingrid Fliter
Linn Records CRD 475

In the ridiculous horror-parody film, Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, the bloodthirsty veggies can only be defeated when shown the sheet music of Donny Osmond. That makes them explode in fear. In the real world, the truly scary scores are those of Frédéric Chopin. The sheer complexity of the writing, the crowded added lines and bars bursting with fractal notes are enough to send a casual, sight-reading pianist scrambling. Chopin’s music requires a lot of great technique, to be sure. But technique alone is not enough – the best example of that is the pianist that this reviewer calls Bang Bang in obvious reference to his overuse of the forte pedal. Lots of bravado there, but very little heart and soul.

In fact, I would venture to say that the music of Chopin is a lot like wine – it is a result of the terroir, the quality of grapes and the winemaking technique. As for terroir, there is something magical when one hears that music at the Royal Baths Gardens in Warsaw, near the statue of Chopin (wrapped by two bronze weeping willows) or at Chopin’s family cottage in Zelazowa Wola, where his alleged piano is still in working order. Alas, that’s a pleasure not accorded to many. Still, there is something uncanny in the ability of Polish pianists to re-capture that ever-important terroir. Then there are the grapes – the beauty of Chopin’s writing was that no piece, no matter how slight, could be considered minor. The Minute Waltz, the Preludes, the Mazurkas or songs, regardless of length, command attention equal to that of the Piano Concerti. If all his scores are difficult, then the Mazurkas are particularly so, as their intuitive, internal rhythm has tripped up many a virtuoso. There is a reason, after all, for a separate award category for Mazurka interpretation at the Chopin International Piano Competition – a prize so elusive, that on several occasions it was not awarded. Finally we come to the winemaking technique. All three of the pianists in this review are no amateurs and their technique can be vouched for by the international prizes they have garnered – Ingrid Fliter was a silver medalist of the 2000 Chopin Piano Competition, Janina Fialkowska won the inaugural 1974 Arthur Rubinstein competition and Alain Lefèvre scored a JUNO, Prix Opus and ten (That’s ten!) Prix Felix. So, how do they fare?

All three discs are a true delight – so any criticism that follows will be merely an exercise in splitting hairs.

If I were to pick the weakest link, it would be the Argentine-born Ingrid Fliter. Though some would argue that hers is the finest technique of the three, her approach to Chopin is almost too conservative and because of that it seems fearful. No room for fear when playing Chopin – this is a counterphobe’s territory. I would also add that despite her triumph at the Warsaw competition, her recording pays the least homage to the actual terroir of the music. A notable exception is the “Raindrop” Prelude – possibly the best performance I have heard in years.

Lefèvre is fearless and bold, taking no prisoners in his approach and perhaps losing some clarity in the process. However, by leading with the heart, you cannot lose when playing Chopin.

Finally, Fialkowska is in fine form, proving once again that it is the combination of emotional presence, technique and experience or the grapes, terroir and winemaking, that delivers the stunning results. Hers is the crown of Mazurkas, those frustrating, intimidating gems that Schumann called “cannons under flowers” referring to their potent political message dressed as “small” piano pieces.

I have not often experienced epiphanies in this life. The first I remember was as a teenager on a family holiday which took us to Washington, D.C. and included a visit to the National Gallery of Art where, wandering off on my own, I turned a corner and found myself face to face with Salvador Dali’s The Sacrament of the Last Supper. That was a profoundly moving moment and all at once I understood what was meant by the term masterpiece. That would have been in the late 1960s. The next came in 1984 while attending the finals of the CBC National Radio Competition for Young Composers. That year the only prize awarded in the electronic music category went to Paul Dolden for The Melting Voice Through Mazes Running. Although this extremely dense and dynamically intense work drove a number of people from the hall with fingers plugging their ears, I was enraptured by its visceral power. It was that work which inspired me to commission radiophonic works for my program Transfigured Night (1984-1991) at CKLN-FM. With the assistance of the Ontario Arts Council and later the Canada Council I was able to commission a dozen composers, beginning with Dolden who produced Caught in an Octagon of Unaccustomed Light which went on to win the Third Prize of the Luigi Russolo International Competition (Varese, Italy 1988).

Some 30 years later Dolden is still at it, honing his technique which involves recording and layering hundreds of tracks of instrumental and vocal sounds, and more recently including field recordings – cicadas, grasshoppers and crickets in the current instance – to create works of vast sonic complexity. The predominantly acoustic nature of the sound sources – although there is an extended electric guitar solo included here – is integral to his process which, while using technology to stack the layers, does not manipulate the samples electronically thereby leaving the purity of sound intact. In essence Dolden, who plays most of the instruments himself, creates and conducts a vast orchestra which could not exist in the everyday world.

Paul Dolden’s latest release, Who Has the Biggest Sound? (Starkland ST-220 starkland.com), includes two titles. The somewhat tongue-in-cheek, or at least playfully self-referential, title track which includes a narrator (Dolden) asking questions such as “Who can play the fastest? Who has the dreamiest melodies? Who can talk faster: crickets or man?” was co-commissioned by Réseaux des arts médiatiques (Montreal) and Diapason Gallery (New York). Although the narration seems a little condescending and self-indulgent, the layered textures that constitute the bulk of the composition are incredible to behold, or more accurately, behear.

The companion piece, The Un-Tempered Orchestra, commissioned by the Sinus Ton Festival (Germany), takes Bach’s exploration of the equal-tempered tuning system in the Well-Tempered Klavier as its point of departure. Whereas Bach demonstrated the viability of the then new symmetrical division of the octave into 12 equal steps, Dolden’s intention is to establish a “non-symmetrical building which uses non-tempered tuning systems, many of which have no octaves […] to create a new musical space within which Western and non-Western musical practices can co-exist […] a big modern multi-cultural family.” He goes on to say “In order to construct this house, first I wrote simple diatonic melodies and chord progressions. Then I recorded Eastern and Western performers reading these lines in their native dialect or tuning system. With the aid of new technologies I edited all these performances to fit under one symmetrical roof. […] Specifically we see our current Western [style] of playing reflected back to us and distorted by ancient musical tuning systems. By combining different musical languages and styles we invert time: what is old becomes new and vice versa. Please enjoy these moments of musical transcendence.” I know I did, but buyer beware. These sounds are big, bold, brash and often abrasive, and listening is not recommended for the timid.

In brief:

In 2012 renowned countertenor Daniel Taylor, head of the Early Music department at the University of Toronto, founded the Schola Cantorum. In its first two seasons this ensemble has already achieved remarkable success, appearing with the likes of the Tallis Scholars (2012-2013) and the Gabrieli Consort (2013-2014). The Heart’s Refuge,a recent Analekta recording (AN 2 9143),features both this choir and Taylor’s long-established Theatre of Early Music in vocal works of Buxtehude, J.C. Bach, Kuhnau and Bruhns as well as a short instrumental selection by Schmelzer. Recorded at Humbercrest United in April 2013, the sound of the five vocal soloists, 20-voice choir, strings and continuo is superb, with none of the purity and clarity of the period performance lost in the natural resonance of the church’s glorious acoustic. Concert note: On November 9 the choir and orchestra of the Schola Cantorum and the Theatre of Early Music present “The Coronation of King George II” under Daniel Taylor’s direction at Trinity College Chapel.

Beyond Shadows, the latest release from Vancouver’s Redshift Records (TK432 redshiftmusic.org), features The Nu:BC Collective, an ensemble-in-residence at the University of British Columbia comprised of flutist Paolo Bortolussi, cellist Eric Wilson and pianist Corey Hamm. The group is often supplemented by guest artists, including clarinetist Cris Inguanti and percussionist Brian Nesselroad on this recording. The disc features existing works by two Americans, Dorothy Chang (who currently teaches at UBC) and Marc Mellits, and pieces composed specifically for the ensemble by two Ontario-born composers who both now make Montreal their home and teach at McGill University, Brian Cherney and Chris Paul Harman. Chang’s title work, written in 2008 for the Stoney Brook Contemporary Chamber Players, is for clarinet(s), cello, percussion and piano (with Bortolussi conducting), is a busy piece which takes place predominantly in the lower registers of the instruments with interesting textures and juxtapositions. Harman’s Doubling from 2007 adds clarinet to the core ensemble and as the title suggests incorporates a lot of unison work in a playful game of tag. Mellits’ 11 Pieces for Flute and Piano (1992) explores a variety of moods as the individual movement titles indicate: i.e. Persistent; Distraught; Languid, Frantic etc. The most recent work, and also the only one to feature just flute, cello and piano, Brian Cherney’s Twenty-Two Arguments for the Suspension of Disbelief (2010) is to my ear the most satisfying. Dark and probing, it goes beyond the level of the other works which, accomplished though they are, lack the depth and introspection of Cherney’s polished gem.

Moses Pergament – The Jewish Song (Caprice Reissue Series CAP 21834) was recorded live at the Stockholm Concert Hall in 1974 and originally issued on LP in 1976. It features vocal soloists Brigit Nordin and Sven-Olof Eliasson, the Stockholm Philharmonic Choir and Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra under the direction of James DePriest (who served as music director of the Orchestre Symphonique de Québec from 1976 until 1983 and was Director Emeritus of Conducting and Orchestral Studies at the Juilliard School and Laureate Music Director of the Oregon Symphony at the time of his death last year). Pergament (1893-1977) was born in Finland of Lithuanian Jewish stock (the name Pergament, or vellum, came from his great-grandfather’s occupation, Torah scribe). He studied composition and violin in St. Petersburg and settled in Sweden in 1915 where he became well known as a music critic before establishing himself as a composer. The mammoth cantata The Jewish Song for vocal soloists, chorus and large orchestra was composed in 1944 on poems by Ragnar Josephson in which “the skald (poet) sings of the Jewish people’s devotion to God, its piety, its past, its heroism, its bravery, its trust and thankfulness for the protection of the Lord.” The stunning 75-minute work opens with Prelude: In Memoriam – a dramatic wordless lament for the six million Jews “who fell victim to the cruelty of the Third Reich” and continues with settings of a dozen poems culminating in a moving We Thank You Lord. Pergament is sadly underrepresented by recordings and this important re-issue of the dramatic, uplifting and exhilaratingly performed work is a welcome addition to the catalogue.

Through Time featuring bassoonist Rui Lopes and the English Chamber Orchestra (Solo Musica SM 211 solo-musica.de) presents little-known works from the first half of the 20th century juxtaposed with more familiar fare by Mozart and Vivaldi. Lopes is an acknowledged master of the baroque and modern bassoon and both are heard to advantage here. The disc opens with a charming Portuguese folk-based work by Heitor Villa-Lobos followed by the playful Divertissement by Jean Françaix originally scored for bassoon and string quintet, heard here in the world premiere of a string orchestra version. The Bassoon Concerto in B-Flat K191 was composed at the age of 18 and was Mozart’s first concerto for a wind instrument. Written shortly after the Symphony No.29, like that work it represents an early example of the composer’s mature orchestral sound. Lopes contributes his own virtuosic cadenzas. The Vivaldi C-Major concerto is also virtuosic, ebullient and wonderfully melodic. The disc ends with Edward Elgar’s Romance for Bassoon and Orchestra, Op.62, a lush work which brings me to my only criticism of this otherwise flawless disc. In a way the Elgar brings us full circle back into the early 20th century, but despite its warm and lyrical nature, on each listening I found it jarring after the flamboyant Vivaldi. Perhaps it would work better as an encore after a rousing round of applause to clear the palette, but in the context of the disc I would have preferred the journey “through time” to be linear rather than circular.

David Olds, DISCoveries Editor
discoveries@thewholenote.com

Verdi & Wagner – The Odeonsplatz Concert
Rolando Villazón; Thomas Hampson; Bayerischen RSO; Yannick Nézet-Séguin
Cmajor 716708

Last July to celebrate the bicentennials of Verdi and Wagner, a huge outdoor concert took place in Munich, the Bavarian capital with obvious connections to Wagner and his royal patron, Ludwig II. The show was held in Munich’s epicentre, the vast quasi-Renaissance Odeonsplatz, under an arcaded loggia large enough to house a full symphony orchestra and chorus. The loggia, full of allegorical symbols of German glory and guarded by two fierce-looking stone lions, was lit in glorious colours to suit the mood of each item performed.

Curiously enough the two singing stars, tenor Rolando Villazón and baritone Thomas Hampson, apart from some Massenet, sang mostly unknown and second rate Verdi (I would seriously question the inclusion of an aria from Il Corsaro, Verdi’s worst opera that even the Maestro himself hated outright) and only one Wagner, the Ode to the Evening Star from Tannhäuser beautifully sung by Hampson and timed perfectly to coincide with the evening shadows descending over the square. In Verdi I felt the only major success for the soloists was the “Liberty” duet from Don Carlo. Even Massenet was better represented.

Fortunately the most resounding hits were the orchestra and chorus with some of Verdi’s and Wagner’s finest choruses and overtures, led with aplomb by Montrealer and now world-renowned conductor, Yannick Nézet-Séguin. His youthful exuberance was infectious and he brought out idiomatic and superbly pointed performances like the rousing Entry of the Guests amplified by the wonderful natural acoustics so that it must have been heard all over Munich. Electricity was in the air and everybody noticeably sat up and listened, except perhaps for those morose stone lions.

Fauré – Requiem; Cantique de Jean Racine
Gerald Finley; Tom Pickard; Choir of King’s College Cambridge; Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment; Stephen Cleobury
Choir of King’s College Cambridge KGS0005

While one wonders what yet another recording of Fauré’s Requiem will bring to light, the Choir of King’s College Cambridge is the first to record Marc Rigaudière’s new reconstruction of the earliest complete liturgical performance of the Requiem, essentially recreating the work’s premiere, including the organ stops from L’église de la Madeleine in Paris. Also, the incorporation of instruments and techniques typical of those of a French orchestra of the late 19th century are used to great effect by the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. As a result, the performance does convey quite a different character than others; somehow even more gentle and contemplative in nature through the use of slower tempi and extremely controlled, even subdued choral passages, with the exception of the Dies Irae.

Chorus alumnus Gerald Finley’s gorgeous bass-baritone solos are wonderfully dramatic. In fact, the original version uses fewer dynamic markings. After a full performance of the original work, the choir presents a contrasting version of the Offertoire, edited by John Rutter, quite unique in and of itself and extended in Fauré’s 1900 version with the chorale O Domine. Also included on the CD is a lovely performance of Cantique de Jean Racine in its original version for choir and organ and Messe Basse, originally composed for women’s voices, sweetly rendered by the choir’s trebles. 

Strauss – Elektra
Herlitzius; Meier; Pieczonka; Petrenko; Randle; Orchestre de Paris; Esa-Pekka Salonen
Festival Aix-en-Provence; BelAir Classiques BAC110

Richard Strauss’ overheated take on the ancient Sophocles tragedy about one of history’s most infamous dysfunctional families, pushed into fin-de-siècle extremes and Freudian overtones, may have shocked pre-WWI audiences, but even so it provided the composer with a sizable enough income to buy himself a villa in the Bavarian Alps. This latest revival of Elektra became the focal point of the Aix-en-Provence festival in the summer of 2013 in the hands of possibly the greatest director of our generation, Patrice Chéreau, made all the more poignant because he passed away a few months thereafter. His brilliant intellect, inspiration and intuitive feel for music and theatre is manifest from the overall concept to the minutest detail.

Compared with past productions that turned Elektra into a bone-chilling nocturnal bloodthirsty horror show, Chéreau avoided all sensationalism and concentrated on the psychology and interplay of characters, especially the three women principals. As Elektra, German soprano Evelyn Herlitzius is a primal, elemental force, almost like an animal who simply howls through an hour and three quarters at fever pitch, but also capable of tender moments in the “Recognition” scene (with Mikhail Petrenko as Orestes)  where Strauss for the first time reaches a major key, a sublime climax of the score. By contrast Chrysothemis, her sister, probably the only normal person among the women, is beautifully sung and acted with maternal instinct and compassion by Torontonian Adrianne Pieczonka who is rapidly achieving world fame. The most problematic – for Chéreau – was the handling of the murderous mother Clytemnestra, traditionally made into a half-insane complex-ridden grotesque witch, but here a woman of dignity, more to be pitied than hated and portrayed superbly by Waltraud Meier.

Finally I must emphasize the enormous contribution of Esa-Pekka Salonen whose firm control of dynamics brings out the subtle inner voices that often disappear in the monolithic sound of a giant Straussian orchestra.

André Tchaikowsky – The Merchant of Venice
Ainslie; Bridges; Eröd; Gunz; Hofmann; Lewek; Stout; Workman; Wiener Symphoniker; Erik Nielsen
Unitel Classica 2072708

Re-discovery of a forgotten opera usually happens to obscure Baroque or Bel Canto masterpieces, which for unfathomable reasons have been gathering dust in some musty old library. More often than not, they enter standard repertoire for a brief period of revival, only to be forgotten again. Let’s hope that fate will not befall The Merchant of Venice – an opera 30 years out of its time. Nearly produced by the English National Opera in 1984 two years after the composer’s death, this opera finally received its due at the 2013 Bregenz Festival. The Festival’s artistic director, David Pountney, is a champion of forgotten composers and André Tchaikowsky, born Robert Andrzej Krauthammer in Poland, is definitely well deserving of such re-discovery.

Survivor of the Warsaw ghetto (which he escaped with an assumed “Christian” name of Andrzej Czajkowski on his fake papers) and the communist rule, Tchaikowsky was an acclaimed pianist. He placed amongst the finalists of the 1955 Chopin Piano Competition and 1956 Queen Elisabeth of Belgium Competition. Despite those early accolades, he decided to dedicate himself to composition. His output, if not huge, is thoroughly engrossing; alas Merchant is the only opera. And what an opera – there is no doubting its dramatic bona-fides: Tchaikowsky makes his own mark by imbuing Antonio with gay yearnings, absent in Shakespeare, and scoring the role for a countertenor. The Bregenz production casts Christopher Ainslie in that role, against the remarkable Adrian Eröd as Shylock.

As a final irony, the composer got to centre stage before his work did – he willed his skull to the Royal Shakespeare Company to be used in Hamlet as a prop. That acclaimed 2008 production, filmed by the BBC, featured David Tennant as the brooding prince and André Tchaikowsky’s skull as Yorick.

Harrison Birtwistle – Gawain
Royal Opera House; Elgar Howarth
NMC D200

I wish I liked this disc more. Everything is first rate: the source – medieval epic Sir Gawain and the Green Knight; Harrison Birtwistle – composer and master of orchestration; skilled librettist David Hersant; a stellar cast; the Royal Opera Orchestra under Elgar Howarth; excellent sound; and comprehensive notes. Throughout Act 1, underlying violence and sorcery at King Arthur’s court is manifest in the atonal, expressionist score’s volcanic low brass eruptions and pervasive percussion. After the jaded king demands new adventures of his knights, the Green Knight appears; Gawain accepts his challenge, which requires mutual beheading! All is plotted by sorceresses Morgan le Fay and Lady de Hautdesert. Act 1 seems belligerent without respite, and without the benefit of staging in this CD recording becomes tedious listening.

The quieter Act 2 seems a resolution to Act 1’s dissonance. Gawain reaches the Green Knight`s abode and is tested by Lady de Hautdesert`s seductive advances. Here, castanet sounds are amusing (as earlier were temple block clip-clops while Gawain prepared for riding). Surviving the beheading scene ordeal, Gawain returns exhausted to Arthur`s court proclaiming “I am not a hero.” To paraphrase Keats, I feel the palpable design of an anti-war allegory.

Soprano Marie Angel (Morgan Le Fay), and mezzo Anne Howells (Lady de Hautdesert) are particularly brilliant; bass-baritone John Tomlinson (Green Knight) and baritone François Le Roux (Gawain) too are standouts. Difficult vocal challenges are more than met by a rasping Fool (Omar Ebrahim), a praying countertenor Bishop (Kevin Smith), the royals and other knights.

Kenneth Fuchs – Falling Man
Roderick Williams; London Symphony Orchestra; JoAnn Falletta
Naxos 8.559753

It was through an accident of timing, rather than by design, that I got to hear the haunting composition Falling Man, by Kenneth Fuchs, on September 11, 2014. Based on the 9/11 novel by Don DeLillo, the music immediately evokes comparisons with John Adams’ On the Transmigration of Souls, the brilliant tribute to the victims of the World Trade Centre terrorist attack. Where Adams wrote music that is elegiac and impossibly transcendent, Fuchs offers a much more personal reflection, tender and almost dazed in the aftermath of disaster. Though structurally dodecaphonic, the music does not strictly adhere to any blueprint, delivering lyrical and nearly romantic themes of a personal heartbreak in the face of a very public tragedy.

A champion of Fuchs’ music, JoAnn Falletta conducts the LSO brilliantly; but the real star of this recording is Roderick Williams, whose soft, velvety baritone belies the harsh descriptions of falling ash and human artifacts raining down on Wall Street that horrible morning. The companion pieces on the album, based on poems by John Updike and William Blake, including the incomparable Tyger, do not reveal such immediate connection with our recent past and deserve to be listened to on their own, within a different context.

Étienne Moulinié – Meslanges pour la Chapelle d’un Prince
Ensemble Correspondances; Sébastien Daucé
Harmonia Mundi HMC 902194

Étienne Moulinié served for 30 years as musician to Louis XIII’s brother the Duke of Orléans; his sacred music is important to the development of mid-seventeenth-century French music. This CD brings together twelve singers in imitation of the original standard configuration, and ten musicians.

The serenity of this arrangement – together with its sometimes excitable stretches – is brought home in the first three pieces by Moulinié. Antoine Boësset’s Jesu nostra redemptio is far more spiritual, introducing parts for higher vocal registers as well as organ and viol. This ethereal quality continues in Cantate Domino (despite the words which exhort the listener to praise God with trumpets, cornets and horns – direct biblical quotations) and the organ playing of director Sébastien Daucé in O bone Jesu. Reflecting the sound choice of pieces on the CD, Boësset’s Populus meus sets words of reproach to yet another celestial arrangement.

Two allemandes by François de Chancy are included in the anthology. They demonstrate the compositions thatMoulinié could incorporate into his repertoire, reinforcing his position with the duke, and also the early stages whereby country dances such as the allemande were adopted by court circles and eventually became staples as baroque movements.

The duke took a second wife in 1632, a pious lady to whom Moulinié dedicated the most inspiring and yearning piece in this compilation. The Litanies de la Vierge comprises a series of entreaties to the Trinity and many other sacred beings. Eleven voices create a moving spirituality, imploring but never despairing.

Lamento (Kapsperger; Rossi; Carissimi; Strozzi; Frescobaldi; Monteverdi; Provenzale)
Romina Basso; Latinitas Nostra
naïve V5390

Monteverdi’s Lamento d’Arianna pioneered the art form known as the lamento, where the death of a famous figure was commemorated by a solo singer accompanied by basso continuo. In addition, techniques such as dissonant chords and melodies with wide leaps would add their own sense of lamentation.

 Latinitas Nostra is a Greek ensemble; their west-looking title refers to the flourishing Greek communities in places such as London and Venice. Soprano Romina Basso begins with Luigi Rossi’s lament by the Queen of Sweden for her husband Gustavus II Adolphus, the brilliant commander killed at Lützen in 1632. The lament combines the Queen’s sense of desperation with an exhortation to kill and strike the Germans, Spaniards and Italians without mercy. Romina Basso rises to this varied emotional challenge with passion, whether one considers this to be a true lament or a plea to crush Sweden’s enemies.

Mary Queen of Scots is the next subject of lament, in this case by Carissimi. Here the tone is again a mix of lamentation and anger: Mary protests her death sentence and expresses resentment against the English regime that created this situation. Vibrato effects enhance the sense of anger. Basso and her continuo admirably meet the demands of the lament.

 Then, one of the most accomplished lady composers of all time, Barbara Strozzi. Lagrime mie lingers over its text and uses pauses to reinforce the emotion. Strozzi’s interpretation makes full use of what one might call surges of melody to reinforce the intended effects of the lament.

And then to Monteverdi with Lamento d’Arianne in its five parts. If ever there was a fine basso continuo accompanying a lamento this was it. All the instruments involved make their presence felt, sometimes supporting and enhancing the plaintive singing, sometimes almost mocking it.

Finally, and to be frank, out of place, is Francesco Provenzale’s “lament” for Gustavus II Adolphus. This is less respectful in its lyrics, almost poking fun at his queen as she learns of his fate. There are exchanges of dialogue which, from the English translation, contain double entendres and undignified comments. In fact, this is not a solo lament; it is accompanied by other voices and the sleeve notes inform us that musicologists have not quite worked out why it was composed. It may just have coincided with Gustavus’ daughter Christina’s spectacular conversion to Catholicism in 1655.

This CD is a fine introduction to a musical form both delicate and forceful.

Rimsky-Korsakov – Scheherazade
Toronto Symphony Orchestra; Peter Oundjian
Chandos CHSA 5145

Rimsky-Korsakov – Scheherazade
Borusan Istanbul Philharmonic Orchestra; Sascha Goetzel
Onyx 4124

About half a century ago the question was asked by some aspiring record company person “How do you decide what to record?” The sage answer was “Look in the Schwann catalogue and find the most recorded work and make one more.”

The TSO disc contains a live performance from Roy Thomson Hall recorded in June 2013. The orchestra is in top form and the playing is rock solid with Oundjian conducting an interpretation that does not stray from the usual way in which this popular orchestral showpiece is heard. There are some lovely turns of phrase and the tuttis are thrillingly open and dynamic. The“star of any Scheherazade is the first violin, the voice of the storyteller who must hold the attention of the imperious Sultan Shahryār or lose her head. Concertmaster Jonathan Crow’s engaging charm makes her irresistible.
I would have liked to have the luxurious recorded sound more articulate but this is a slight quibble. The audience is not heard from but I am sure they leapt to their feet in appreciation as Toronto audiences now seem to do no matter what.

Sascha Goetzel is the Austrian music director of the Borusan Instanbul Philharmonic that began as a chamber orchestra in 1993 and was augmented to become the Philharmonic in 1999. This is their third CD. Part of the uniqueness of this Scheherazade is the use of oriental instruments. The opening of the first tale finds her accompanied, not by a harp but a qanun, a plucked zither or dulcimer-like instrument. It is innocently gentle and appropriate. Before the second movement begins there is a mood-setting solo from the oud, a lute-like instrument, and before the final movement we briefly hear the qanun which supports her in the final pages. Throughout, there is an ebullient texture to the orchestral playing, revealing subtle flavours in familiar passages, particularly the quieter episodes. The uncluttered, spacious recording is as vital as the performance. 

Balakirev’s knuckle-breaking piano spectacular Islamey is heard in the orchestration by Lyapunov and although not a major work in the great scheme of things, it is a dashing showpiece. The two Ippolitov-Ivanov Caucasian Sketches are Procession of the Sardar and a disarmingly tranquil In the Village, featuring the slightly breathy ney flute, a classical Turkish reed instrument. The final piece on this generously filled 77-minute disc, Köçekçe is new to me. It is a dance rhapsody for orchestra. Turkish composer Ulvi Cemal Erkin (1906-1972), a member of the “Turkish Five,” studied in Paris with, of course, Nadia Boulanger and Köçekçeis his most popular work.

Bottom line: Not just another Scheherazade but a unique and arresting performance with oriental overtones together with some very tasty encores, recorded to perfection. I know that it’s pedestrian but I would like to hear an all-out Polovtsian Dances from this group.

The Romantic Violin Concerto Vol.16: Busoni; Strauss
Tanja Becker-Bender; BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra; Garry Walker
Hyperion CDA68044

The 16th instalment of Hyperion’s ongoing survey of Romantic violin concertos is devoted to two early works by Richard Strauss (1864-1949) and Ferruccio Busoni (1866-1924). Though Strauss is immensely better known than his near-contemporary, his Violin Concerto is clearly the weaker of the two works. A product of his teenage years, this D minor concerto was composed in1881-2 for his violin teacher Benno Walter. While Strauss would later admit that he found learning the violin unpleasant and physically taxing, it’s quite evident he well understood the bravura aspects of the now-forgotten showpiece concertos by the likes of Ernst, Spohr and Léonard his teacher favoured. The three movements of the concerto are textbook examples of proper academic form and conventional orchestration without a trace of any distinct personality, though the sprightly finale does provide moments of comic relief from the otherwise echt-Deutsch ponderousness of this dismally anodyne work.

Thankfully a distinct voice and a fascinating amalgam of a unique pan-European viewpoint is magnificently evident in Busoni’s D-Major concerto, conceived in 1896-7 for the Dutch violinist Henri Petri (father of the pianist Egon Petri) and championed in the 20th century by Joseph Szigeti, whose still-available 1958 recording is unfortunately compromised by his arthritic condition at the time, but is musically electrifying. Were it not for Szigeti’s advocacy, Busoni might have willingly disavowed this fascinating work which grows more impressive with repeated hearings and clearly deserves a more prominent place in the violin repertoire than that afforded the Strauss concerto.

Tanja Becker-Bender, the Hamburg-based German violinist and champion of both neglected and contemporary works, is the outstanding soloist, drawing a beautiful tone from a loaned 1710 Stradivarius and exhibiting complete technical mastery. Garry Walker and the Scots BBC orchestra provide a crisp and spirited accompaniment in this nicely recorded disc. Come for the Strauss if you must, but stay for the Busoni; you won’t be disappointed.