Editor's Corner - December 2024
I recently received Louise Bessette’s latest, Port of Call: New England with music by Charles Ives and Edward MacDowell (ATMA ACD2 2902 atmaclassique.com/en/product/port-of-call-new-england). The Ives is the extraordinary Piano Sonata No.2 “Concord, Mass 1840-1860” which he worked on for most of the first half of the 20th century, and the MacDowell is New England Idyls Op.62, a set of ten vignettes composed in 1902. I first heard the celebrated Montreal pianist in the early 1990s at George Weston Recital Hall at what is now the Meridian Centre for the Arts where she performed Olivier Messiaen’s stunning Vingt Regards sur l’enfant Jésus from memory. I was enthralled. At the concert, I picked up her CBC Musica Viva recording of selections from the Vingt Regards and to my delight it also included Ives’ Concord Sonata. That was recorded live in concert back in 1987 and now, some 37 years later she has produced a studio recording of the Ives, “one of her all-time favourite works.” It’s one of mine too.
The Concord Sonata is a work that was very special to me in my formative years. I have spoken before in these pages about how my discovery of the Bartók string quartet cycle provided one of my earliest entries into the world of “contemporary” music, a kind of epiphany for me. Another revelatory experience was a lecture/demonstration at the U of T Faculty of Music in November 1974 by German pianist Peter Roggenkamp, whose examination and elucidation of the complex and freewheeling score of the Concord Sonata was another ear-opener. I was already enamoured of John Kirkpatrick’s 1968 Columbia recording of the work, but having it dissected under Roggenkamp’s microscope really brought home the intricacies and idiosyncrasies of Ives’ writing and left a lasting impression.
In the first 20 seconds of the sonata, we hear Beethoven’s “fate” theme, the first four notes of the Fifth Symphony, which will reappear in myriad forms and guises throughout the four movements. As was his wont, Ives also incorporates/interpolates dozens of hymn tunes, marches, popular songs, fiddle tunes and his own brand of ragtime melodies into the classical piano sonata form. It is at times an extremely wild ride, but this is juxtaposed with gentle, almost transcendental sections. And transcendental is a key word here because Ives conceived the sonata as a depiction of figures of 19th-century American Transcendentalism, designating the movements Emerson, Hawthorne, The Alcotts and Thoreau.
To paraphrase the late Robert Fulford, publishing is a “necessary evil” that sadly stops the editing process. This was not the case for Ives, who worked on this sonata for 45 years beginning around the time of the First World War. After a decade of tinkering, he self-published a first edition in 1920 and sent out several hundred copies to performers, libraries, critics and anyone he could think of who might be interested. Few were, and he continued to revise Concord until 1947 when he published a supposedly definitive second edition after a decade of collaboration with Kirkpatrick who had given the first public performance of the complete sonata in 1937 and would go on to record it in 1948.
But the evolution of the sonata did not stop there, with scholars like Kirkpatrick and later Jay Gottlieb, with whom Bessette worked, continuing to make “improvements” based on Ives’ innumerable sketches and notebooks. Most contemporary performances use the 1947 edition, but Kirkpatrick’s own second recording (1968) has craggier moments including, notably, Ives’ dissonant treatment of Hail Columbia, Gem of the Ocean in the latter portion of the piece. We can assume that through Gottlieb, Bessette also had access to Ives’ unpublished manuscripts. It’s a very special performance, muscular when Ives demands it – and demand it he does! – and calm, in fact tender as a breeze over Walden Pond, in the final moments. In that last movement we briefly hear the return of what Ives referred to as the “human-faith-melody” motif, this time played on the flute (Jeffrey Stonehouse). The brief addition of the flute is marked optional in the score, as is a quiet passage on the viola (Isaac Chalk) in the opening movement. Of the ten or so recordings I have in my collection, this is just the second to include these instruments, adding another element to the pleasure I found here.
After the raucous boisterousness of much of the Ives, it’s as if MacDowell’s New England is on another astral plane, although the quietude of Thoreau does lead nicely into the Idyls. With titles such as An Old Garden, In Deep Woods, Indian Idyl and From a Log Cabin, the brief pastoral portraits harken back to a gentler time, in contrast to Ives’ forward-looking approach. It is a bit funny though to hear a quiet echo of the Beethoven “fate” theme appear in the movement called Mid-winter, and the set ends on a lively note with The Joy of Autumn. Bessette is captivating throughout.
I have also had several epiphanies when it comes to choral music, the first being an Angel LP recording of Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana under Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos when I was still in high school. Some years later, as an amateur cellist on my first trip to CAMMAC’s Lake MacDonald summer program, I was sitting in the orchestra playing the pedal note and facing the conductor, when suddenly the choir at the back of the room burst into the glorious “Herr, unser Herrscher” opening phrase of Bach’s St. John Passion. I was gobsmacked! Several years later at the Elora Festival presentation of Carl Theodor Dreyer’s silent film The Passion of Joan of Arc accompanied by a live performance of Richard Einhorn’s Voices of Light, again my soul soared at the beauty of a choral creation.
There are moments in François Dompierre’s Requiem that take me back to the feeling of elation and exhilaration I experienced during those formative years. The performance features Montreal’s Orchestre FILMhamonique, Ensemble ArtChoral, soloists Myriam Leblanc, Andrew Haji and Geoffroy Salvas under the direction of Francis Choinière (LABE Records LABECD-24007 francoisdompierre.com/discographie). Dedicated to the memory of Dompierre’s mother Yolande and father Frédéric, the Latin texts of the gorgeous near hour-long work are taken from traditional liturgical verses: Introit-Kyrie; Dies Irae; Tuba Mirum; Lacrimosa; Hostias; Recordare; Sanctus; Benedictus; Agnus Dei; Lux Aeterna; Libera; In Paradisum. The varied movements range from dramatic and dynamic with full chorus and orchestra, to contemplative, even haunting, moments where the soloists are featured with sparse accompaniment. The musical language is mostly tonal and accessible, but there is enough range and contrast to satisfy even my somewhat jaded palette. The performance is nuanced and well balanced from the quietest moments to the occasional bombastic outbursts. The recording, made at la Maison symphonique de Montréal in January 2024, is outstanding. My one quibble is that the booklet, including Dompierre’s introduction and the translations of the Latin texts, is entirely in French. Fortunately, you can hear the composer talking about his Requiem with English subtitles here: youtube.com/watch?v=gFLPvPLux3E.
I like it when my reading and my music making overlap. While working at CJRT-FM I read Vikram Seth’s An Equal Music and was intrigued by the narrator’s quest to find Beethoven’s String Quintet in C Minor Op.104, the composer’s rearrangement of an early piano trio. I set out on my own search for the music, fortunately not as onerous as the one described in the novel, and one of the highlights of my “career” as an amateur cellist was spending an afternoon with a quartet of friends under the tutelage of violinist extraordinaire Mark Fewer reading through the fabled work. That was a thrill only exceeded by the time I got to play Mozart flute quartets with Robert Aitken! (But enough about me, for now…).
Speaking of Mark Fewer, Alikeness features the Newfoundland Symphony Orchestra Sinfonia under Fewer’s direction (Leaf Music LM 296 leaf-music.ca/music/lm296). Soprano Deantha Edmunds, a singer-songwriter who has the distinction of being the first Inuk professional classical singer, is active in the fields of opera, throat singing and drum dancing. The CD opens with Edmunds’ performance of her Angmalukisaa (“round” in Inuktut), four songs about personal connections arranged for the orchestra by Bill Brennan, Andrew Downing, Jeff Johnston and Robert Carli. This is followed by a “concerto grosso” with Fewer as violin soloist, Episodes by Serge Arcuri, written in 1998 for the Montreal Baroque Orchestra. While referencing the baroque origins of the form, Arcuri’s three movement work incorporates a romantic sensibility and some modern turns of phrase. Matt Brubeck’s solo work The Simple Life appears next in a lush arrangement by Downing for violin and strings, followed by the third movement of Carli’s “C” from his suite B-A-C-H, another contemplative work featuring Fewer’s violin. The title work, composed in 2015 by Jarosław Kapuściński, associate professor of composition at Stanford University, for the St. Lawrence String Quartet (ensemble in residence at Stanford) and percussionist Aiyun Huang. The mostly quiet work, a bit surprising for a percussion “concerto,” is heard here in an arrangement for Huang and string orchestra by Yoshiaki Onishi. The various percussive instruments are effectively juxtaposed with pizzicato accompaniment at times, and at others with lyrical lines or catch-me-if-you-can chase scenes with the strings. This very effective piece, lasting almost 25 minutes, completes a satisfying disc of unusual repertoire for chamber orchestra.
Listen to 'Alikeness' Now in the Listening Room
(And here I am again…) Back in my days as a music programmer at CJRT, a favourite selection was Claude Bolling’s wonderful “chamber jazz” creation Suite for Flute and Jazz Piano Trio as recorded by Bolling with Jean-Pierre Rampal. Somehow it escaped my notice that he had also written a Suite for Cello and Jazz Piano Trio composed and recorded in 1984, with Yo-Yo Ma as soloist. The Suite recently came to my attention on 1Q84, a new recording by Montreal cellist Sahara von Hattenberger (Odd Sound ODS-36 saharathecellist.com) who performs with pianist Joanne Kang, bassist Adrian Vedady and drummer Jim Doxas. Whereas in the original recording the rhythm section was confined to pretty much just that, in this new rendition the piano, bass and drums are given improvisatory sections in each of the six movements. While we expect it from jazz journeymen Vedady and Doxas, classical pianist Kang also shows herself right at home in “uncharted” waters and the end result is exhilarating.
Regarding the unusual name of the album, although the booklet notes don’t go into it, the press release explains the significance of the title, borrowed from the well-known fantasy novel by Haruki Murakami set in 1984. The protagonist in the novel refers to the parallel universe in which she finds herself as 1Q84 (Q is pronounced the same as the number nine in Japanese). Van Hattenberger notes that 1984 was also the year Bolling completed his cello suite.
The “parallel universe” in this case is the second CD of the set, where van Hattenberger performs new works for the same ensemble from composers Remy Le Boeuf, Malcolm Sailor and Jeffrey Fong. Le Boeuf has also contributed a quartet arrangement of Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill (a particularly fond earworm for me). The press release also states that Bolling’s famous crossover suite “acted as an antidote to the angst of the era. Massive inflation, the AIDS epidemic, financial unrest and overwhelming fear of and obsession with technology…” and goes on to suggest that “Van Hattenberger’s re-imagining […] maintains the same sense of joy and wit as the original […] This album is a welcome respite from the pressing darkness we often find ourselves in today.” I must say I have to agree as I write this in the days following the U.S. election.
One caution: It seems there was a mix-up in the pressing of the second CD. It was intended to be heard in the order printed on the packaging (Sailor, Le Boeuf, Bush, Fong), but the actual order on the physical disc is Le Boeuf, Bush, Sailor, Fong, easy enough to re-program on a CD player. For digital purchase, the order of the tracks is correct.
I don’t know where to start with this next one. Brandon Seabrook’s Object of Unknown Function (Pyroclastic Records PR 37 brandonseabrook.bandcamp.com/album/object-of-unknown-function) is unlike anything I’ve heard before (a few familiar sound fragments notwithstanding). The album is meant to convey the extreme physicality of Seabrook’s solo performances. It is a mixture of single instrumental lines supplemented by layers of similar or disparate instruments, juxtaposed with four-track cassette recordings from a variety of sources. The mix of instruments is somewhat unusual: an early 20th century six-string banjo, a tenor banjo played with a bow, an electric 12-string guitar and a classic Fender Telecaster. Six-string banjos are variously known as banjitars, guitjos and ganjos, Seabrook simply refers to his 1920 William O. Schmick instrument as a guitar banjo and it is tuned like a guitar.
Tenor banjos, popular in the early 20th century in traditional jazz ensembles such as Dixieland bands, have four strings tuned in fifths like the viola and cello, or alternately in Chicago tuning, pitched like the four higher strings of a guitar. They are most often strummed rhythmically rather than plucked like their five-string counterparts, but Seabrook treats his differently, playing with a bow resulting in a sound similar to a Chinese erhu, or picking individual notes to create complex melodies. His Neptune 12-string electric guitar, built by Nashville luthier Jerry Jones in 1998, is naturally lush but Seabrook takes this to the nth degree when he layers four tracks of it along with seven bowed and two pluck tenor banjos in Melodic Incidents for an Irrational World producing a virtual wall of sound.
Although there are moments of respite, such as the track Some Recanted Evening (one 12-string electric guitar) or the closer The Snow Falling, Falling (four bowed and one plucked tenor banjo), I must emphasize that this is not easy listening and at times borders on painful with its abrasive, ruthless energy and dissonant textures. That being said, I find myself drawn to it repeatedly, especially the above mentioned Irrational World (which puts me in mind of the complex layers of acoustic instruments in the music of Paul Dolden), and in Unbalanced Love Portfolio, a contemplative solo for one guitar banjo. Not for the faint of heart, but a rousing ride for the more adventurous listener.
I will close with a shout-out to an old friend, Sandy Bell, who was my counterpart as manager of Arraymusic for most of the 20 years I spent in the same capacity at New Music Concerts. Sandy has now retired from the heady world of arts administration to live the good life in rural Nova Scotia and concentrate on the things that matter. She has always been a singer, trained in choirs in her youth, but found her personal voice in the world of country music. While in Toronto she co-founded a band called The Wanted which played in such hallowed halls as the Gladstone Hotel and Cameron House. It seems her life’s dream was to produce a solo album and now she has done it. Break of Day – Songs for Colin (sandybellcreative.com/music) is a beautiful collection of original songs commemorating the life of her son who died tragically at the age of 20. There are some laments, including a chilling rendition of I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry, the only cover version on the album, but the overall feeling is of hope and celebration. Sandy’s soprano voice with its country twang is complemented by a backing band of traditional fiddle, pedal and lap steel, acoustic and electric guitar, banjo, bass and drums, with harmony vocals by Kristin Cavoukian, Max Heineman and Sofia Harwell, all produced by Andrew Collins who also contributes mandocello lines. Although this may not be the album Bell began dreaming of before the death of Colin, it’s nevertheless a lovely fulfillment of that dream.
Listen to 'Break of Day – Songs for Colin' Now in the Listening Room
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