Found Objects | Sound Objects
Marc-André Hamelin
Hyperion Records CDA68457 (hyperion-records.co.uk/dc.asp?dc=D_CDA68457)
I should disclose that I have been a follower of this artist for several decades, even before he came full time to Hyperion. Marc-André Hamelin has followed a process of constant refinement of his unique set of assets and musical strengths. He has a recent disc of Beethoven’s Hammerklavier sonata, and now we have a collection of thorny, magnificent items that hover beyond traditional harmony, and explore challenging new forms of pianistic expression.
This new disc has perhaps one of the most impressive programs in recent years, and it seems to extend the challenging tone of his recent album of his own compositions, with seven pieces by six composers, many of whom are not generally familiar, plus one new item by Hamelin himself.
Frank Zappa starts the program with Ruth is Sleeping which is quite atonal and sets the tone of a searching modernism found in most of these pieces. Salvatore Martriano’s Stuck on Stella is full of pianistic surprises, but the third item Tip by John Oswald from 2021 is waywardly tonal, and it lapses into sudden snippets of hackneyed piano repertoire by composers such as Chopin and Ravel, that are woven into the texture but only as wisps of quotes that suddenly appear and dissolve without any development. This can be heard as a crossover piece, but there may be irony in the bluntness of the quotes.
In the middle place we get a John Cage piece for prepared piano, The Perilous Night, from 1944, which reduces and restricts the enormous pianistic potential to the scale of a tiny percussion ensemble, sometimes evoking a Gamelan, in simplistic rhythmic music that conjures primitive folk elements. The pianist plays percussively and is given many little rhythmic twists and changes, and there are no tunes or harmonies.
For me the major interest is Stefan Volpe’s hyper-complex tour-de-force Passacaglia, from 1936, revised in 1971, which seems to cram in every possible compositional device which Hamelin manages with perfect expressive poise in spite of the torrent of notes. Another 14-minute complex musical organism is the Refrain by Jehudi Winer, a friend of Hamelin’s, which has a sense of very personal commitment. This piece from 2012, is one of my favourites with moments of a kind of lyricism.
The final Witches Sabbath, Hamelin’s own Hexxensabbath, seems an absolute release of fury, and frenzied dancing, and is almost a stunt in its complete abandon at banging at the piano the way I never thought possible from this always poised artist.
The piano sound is, as usual with Hamelin, sumptuous and rich. I urge this collection for anyone who is ready for a bracing wake-up, since the program can have an eruptive effect on one’s disposition.
