by John Sunier | Oct 31, 2011 | DVD & Blu-ray Video Reviews
Shaolin – Protect the Temple, Blu-ray Collector’s Edition (2011)
Starring: Andy Lau, Jackie Chan, Nicholas Tse, Bingbing Fan
Director: Benny Chan
Studio: Emperor Motion Pictures/Well Go USA WGU01245B [10/25/11]
Video: 1.85:1 for 16:9 1080p HD color
Audio: Mandarin Chinese DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1, Mandarin Chinese DD 2.0, English dubbed DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1, English dubbed DD 2.0
Extras: Making Of featurette, Deleted scenes, Behind the Scenes, International trailers, Theatrical trailer
Length: 131 minutes
Rating: *****
Perhaps not quite a Crouching Tiger, but I rate this one of the most enjoyable Chinese martial arts movies in some time. Of course I don’t see many, but I’m a Jackie Chan fan and it nice to see him in his “cameo” role here (since he’s getting up in years for his former wild action stuff)—playing a simple cook in the Shaolin monastery, who when push comes to shove, uses his kitchen chops to cleverly do in the bad guys.
This is more of an historical drama with great acting than it is a wild gung-fu epic, but it certainly has its bloody violence along with the flying-thru-the-air gung-fu; the film carries an R rating for violence. It takes place in the early 20th century in Republican China when there was great deprivation and various warlords are fighting it out. Andy Lau plays one who shows no mercies to his enemies, including his sworn brother, another warlord. He chases an opposing general trying to keep the peace into the historic Shaolin temple, where the monks practice a sort of Buddhist martial arts. He even threatens killing the temple’s abbott and writes in blood under their sign “The Birthplace of Martial Arts” the sneering sub-script “is no big deal!”
Yet only a few days later Lau’s warlord is a wounded refugee fleeing for his life and seeking the protection in the same Shaolin temple. The speed with which he renounces his evil life, trains with the monks and become a good person seems hard to believe, but Lau makes it rather convincing. There is some humorous dialog between him and Jackie Chan, since he becomes the cook’s assistant. Lau’s former second-in-command has made a deal with the “foreigners” to build a railroad, and has enslaved the local men, forcing them to unearth historic relics to sell to get more money for more weapons. We don’t see a lot of the gorgeous BingBing Fan, playing the warlord’s wife.
The actual historic Shaolin temple monks collaborated on the film and some are even in it, praising Buddha a lot. At one point they do a Robin Hood trick of stealing rice to give to the starving peasants who have settled at the temple. The several big fight scenes are amazing, especially one with multiple carriages racing around precipitous mountain roads at night. Also the scenes with the child monks—very touching. I understand the film lacked a huge budget; don’t how they did it because it looks fantastic.
Neither of the two leads who have their big mano-a-mano fight at the end are huge martial arts action stars, but their acting is superb and the final scene comes off with gusto. One disturbing element is the film’s depiction of the American “foreign devils” who just want to build their railroad and take over control of the country. Interesting nationalistic twist on what many Americans are concerned about re: China today.
The Blu-ray transfer is terrific, the surround supports the action well, and some of the extras are fairly interesting, though they keep repeating annoying opening and closing bits which seem to come from their TV use. (Why weren’t those edited out?) Some of those involved talk about the interesting historical basis of the film. It is sort of an encore to a 1982 Jet Li martial arts movie. While the Jackie Chan interview is worth viewing, he proves unimpressed with either Buddhism or Americans for that matter.
—John Sunier
by John Sunier | Oct 31, 2011 | Classical Reissue Reviews
MOZART: Die Zauberfloete, K. 620 – Fritz Wunderlich, tenor (Tamino)/ Albert van Naasteren, bass (Sarastro)/ Maria van Dongen, soprano (Pamina)/ Juliane Farkas, soprano (Queen of the Night)/ Jan Dirksen, baritone (Papageno)/ Nel Duval, soprano (Papagena)/ Reinier Schweppe, tenor (Monostatos)/ Radio Opera Choir and Radio Philharmonic Orchestra, Amsterdam/ Bernard Haitink – Myto (2 CDs) 00278, 64:10; 68:22 [Distr. by Qualiton] ****:
What a delight to find an unearthed performance (24 May 1958) of Mozart’s singspiel The Magic Flute (1791) by the late lyric tenor Fritz Wunderlich (1930-1966) with an all-Dutch cast under the masterly direction of Bernard Haitink (b. 1929)! Wunderlich’s effortless grace in all issues Mozart hardly needs confirmation by an extended review: his Tamino combines naïve credulity with an ardent enthusiasm for life and love. Juliane Farkas brings the dark demonism to her Queen of the Night required to offset the Masonic humanitarianism of Sarastro. Her “Der Hoelle Rache” climbs to the high F with that seamless authority and piercing vengeance we know from Rita Streich. Albert van Naasteren intones the mighty Sarastro with warm, avuncular authority; and his occasional low F provides a foil for the over-reaching hubris of the Queen. The loving if ingenuous pair Papageno and Papagena achieve that happy blend of humor and gentle pathos as star-crossed peasants caught in emotion that elevates them both, despite their having rejected the “initiation rites“ proper. The over-riding sentiment of the opera, to “make the Earth a Heavenly kingdom and mortals akin to the gods” finds expression in the sung couplet that concludes both acts of the opera.
The real clue in this outstanding performance—no less from a sonic point of view—remains conductor Haitink. Too often criticized in his early days his “metronomic accuracy,” Haitink maintains absolute clarity of ensemble, and the singers’ diction has rarely resounded so cleanly, in humor as in pathos. The scene in Act II (“Wie? Wie? Wie? ihr an diesem”) between the Spirit Women, Papageno, Tamino and the Chorus flows with fluid buoyancy, poignant and deliciously pointed. A pleasant discovery is tenor Schweppe’s Monostatos, whose spirit moves from a longing for individualism to abject moral slavery. Whatever the trappings and machinery of Masonic “faith,” the opera endures as a marvelous vehicle for romance and spiritual transcendence. If bird-catching becomes a metaphor for a burgeoning Rousseau-esque Romanticism, the conceit is so well concealed by Mozart’s seamless genius for melody and rhythmic infectiousness that scholastic pedantry yields to effervescent spontaneity. Of course, we seek this set for the eternal energy and youth of Fritz Wunderlich, whose silver voice-—what one music-lover called “Tauber reborn!”—remains the most magic flute of all.
—Gary Lemco
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by John Sunier | Oct 31, 2011 | Home Page
During March we will be awarding this 31-Disc boxed set of The Ultimate Piano Concerto Collection from Brilliant Classics to four AUDIOPHILE AUDITION readers who register this month. It’s a must-have for any fan of the piano concerto, with the complete Beethoven cycle, all the Saint-Saens, Rachmaninov and Mozart piano concertos, plus those from Weber, Brahms, Liszt, Grieg, Ravel, Bartok, Haydn and others. The pianists include Alfred Brendel, Evgeny Kissin, Nelson Freire and Vladimir Ashkenazy. Please register right now to be considered as one of the four winners. Further details on our March Editorial Page.
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by John Sunier | Oct 30, 2011 | Classical Reissue Reviews
DEBUSSY: Iberia; Estampes: No. 2 Soiree dans Grenade (orch. Coppola); La Mer; Trois Nocturnes – Paris Conservatoire Orchestra/ Piero Coppola – Dutton CDBP 9806, 64:11 [Distr. by Harmonia mundi] ****:
Milanese composer-conductor Piero Coppola (1888-1971), along with compatriots Vittorio Gui and Victor de Sabata, evolved into a fine interpreter of the music of Debussy, leaving an important legacy that should reign as does that of Desiree Ingelbrecht. In the early Debussy inscriptions Coppola made in the 1920s with a pick-up “Gramophone” orchestra, a decisively meager vibrato dominates, but by the 1932-1938 period of these recordings by the Paris Conservatory Orchestra, the sound has assumed a more romantic ardor. Coppola had been present in 1911 when Debussy himself came to Milan to conduct a concert of music; and although Debussy’s baton technique failed to impress the musicians, and Gui had to take over, for Coppola it proved “a life-changing event,” and he then pursued Debussy’s music with a will.
The Debussy Iberia (11-12 March 1935) enjoys a diaphanously exotic sense of color, from the festive colors of the feria to the distant tolling bells that help paint the “perfumes of the night.” What impresses in Coppola’s rendition are the smoothness of transition, the seamless alteration of tempo, and the plastic sense of rhythm. The PCO woodwind complement proves no less expert in delivering the staccati and punctuated chords that pepper the score while the strings ply every kind of articulation to instill the human panorama of festive gestures that whirls through our minds. Coppola himself orchestrated several of Debussy’s piano pieces, and the natural Spanish eroticism of An Evening in Granada sachets, sways, and luxuriates in richly defined textures for what had been “filler” to the Iberia set. A small harp cadenza places icing on an already diaphanous cake.
Coppola recorded La Mer 25 and 27 October 1932 at Salle Rameau, Paris. The very opening chords shimmer with seascape mystery; and though the tempos move briskly, we feel languor and expanse rather than rushed tides. One might consider a comparison of Coppola’s splendid serenity in the opening section with Koussevitzky’s Boston inscription from virtually the same period. Coppola imposes a fine restraint on the closing page of “From Dawn Till Noon at Sea,” allowing the sea to merge with a vivid, limitless horizon. The PCO woodwinds once again reign in the magical “Play of the Waves,” the movement sparkling and lustrous, with passing glissandi and wind trills in perfect articulation. The mercurial, erotic temper of the shifting rhythmic contours proves a miracle in itself; one must speculate what Coppola would think of Celibidache’s bloated versions of La Mer, as they run almost ten minutes longer. The ominous “Dialogue of the Wind and the Sea” moves with sustained, repressed fury, the rhythmic impulse inexorable as fate (or Toscanini). Festive colors emerge (though without that special trumpet part which conductors like Mitropoulos added to invoke Triton himself), the PCO brass in perfect balance, the last upward runs a virtual water spout of energy.
The Trois Nocturnes (rec. 18 May 1938, in Studio Albert, Paris), conceived as a triptych in grisailles–studies in gray–open with Coppola’s studied Nuages, moody, deliberate, and haunted by an almost gothic menace in the vivid woodwinds and bass harmonies. The viola becomes quite prominent, then it subsumes into an amorphous ocean of wind and harp colors. The impression of space and time dissolves in the last pages, as though the performance had been led by Marcel Proust. Fetes comes hard on the heels of the ephemeral Nuages, all scintillating light and skittish, blustery energy. The march that evolves from afar possesses at first a mystical, vaporous character; but it soon assumes colossal proportions like Mussorgsky’s Bydlo, plus a definitive snare drum and cymbals.
Finally, Sirenes, those nemeses of Odysseus, undulate in plastic wordless chorus (unaccredited). The facility of movement in tandem with the erotic power of the textures makes us think that Coppola shared some of Stokowski’s penchant for the sensuous possibilities in music. The deft, secure intonation of the orchestra and chorus well contributes to what remains the Coppola legend. This is a treasure to own in the Debussy discography.
–Gary Lemco
by John Sunier | Oct 30, 2011 | Jazz CD Reviews
Bob Shimizu – First & Monroe – Signal Strength ssbs20111, 56:34 ***:
(Bob Shimizu – guitar; David Garfield – keyboards; Bill Moio – backing guitar; Todd Chuba – drums, co-producer; Mario Mendivil – electric bass; Mike King – acoustic bass; Joey DeFrancesco – organ (track 11); Lenny Castro – percussion; Eric Marienthal – soprano & alto saxophone; Dominick Farinnaci – Flugelhorn; Matt Williams – vibes; Lamar Gaines – synthesizer)
Guitarist Bob Shimizu’s new album of all original material, First & Monroe, is readymade for those attracted to George Benson’s late-1970s mellow jazz heyday, when Benson produced radio-friendly music with heavy dollops of R&B and pop, tastefully and melodically interwoven into a light jazz template.
Shimizu calls Arizona home (verified by titles such “Yavapai Lullaby” and “Sycamore Canyon”) but his approach is a distillation of the famed Los Angeles studio style, with soft-focused funk elements, suitably melodic themes and a polished professionalism. Doing a blindfold test, a listener might think this music emanates from 1977 not 2011.
Shimizu utilizes backing musicians with extensive pop/jazz-oriented studio/stage backgrounds. It’s a wise decision, since they escalate the commercial stance Shimizu obviously intends. There is keyboardist David Garfield (whose credits include Larry Carlton, Keiko Matsui and The Rippingtons); drummer/producer Todd Chuba (his résumé includes plenty of Arizona musicians), electric bassist Mario Mendivil (no stranger to smooth jazz) and acoustic bassist Mike King, another Arizona-based pro. The ringers on select tracks include saxophonist Eric Marienthal and percussionist Lenny Castro, while organist Joey DeFrancesco is a special guest on the closing live cut.
While there is a certain sameness which flows through Shimizu’s 11 pieces, the consistent regularity also provides an amiability which gives the hour long program continuity and cohesiveness. There are several likeminded tributes infused with a restful perspective. Opener “Her Gentle Touch in Moonlight,” dedicated to Shimizu’s wife, showcases Shimizu’s less-is-more solo attitude, while Chuba and Castro’s light groove offers a warm pulse. Matt Williams’ occasional vibes lend a slight Spyro Gyra-esque flavoring. Thanks to Marienthal’s pleasant soprano sax, a Spyro Gyra-ish feel also permeates the relaxed “Easy to Be With,” another homage to Shimizu’s lifetime partner. Shimizu also devotes two tunes to his daughters. “Trace of a Nordic Blonde” (written for Shimizu’s eldest child) has agreeable chord changes, a softly funky rhythm, a catchy melody and a pop sensibility. There’s also a percolating prance—again highlighted by Chuba’s percussive affability and Williams’ convivial vibes—which runs through “L-Ski,” a bright, glossy piece which evidently echoes the personality of Mariel, Shimizu’s younger daughter. The other compositions follow a parallel path with minor variations, with the lively “Yavapai Lullaby” an exception: this is anything but a soothing number to put children to sleep. A soulful, mid-tempo groove is laid out while Shimizu and Garfield (on electric piano) deliver some animated solo apogees.
The record’s peak comes at the end with a live rendition of the title track, where for about three and half minutes, Shimizu and his band really open up and create a striking soul-jazz atmosphere. Shimizu displays his chops and DeFrancesco illustrates why he’s one of the newer kings of the Hammond B-3. This is just a sample of what Shimizu seems capable of and hopefully he’ll clear his schedule to replicate more of this bluesy post-Jimmy Smith type of material.
TrackList:
Her Gentle Touch in Moonlight; Easy to Be With; Trace of a Nordic Blonde; Padrone; Above the Clouds; Yavapai Lullaby; Flying Home; L-Ski; 1235 Moio Way; Sycamore Canyon; First & Monroe
– Doug Simpson
by John Sunier | Oct 30, 2011 | Classical Reissue Reviews
BEETHOVEN: Piano Concerto No. 3 in C Minor, Op. 37; Choral Fantasy in C Minor, Op. 80; Piano Sonata No. 8 in C Minor, Op. 13 “Pathetique”; Piano Sonata No. 23 in F Minor, Op. 57 “Appassionata”; 8 Bagatelles – Sviatoslav Richter, piano/ USSR State Symphony Orchestra/ Hermann Abendroth/ USSR RTV Large Symphony Orch./ State Academy Russian Chorus/ Kurt Sanderling – Urania Widescreen Collection WS 121.117 (2 CDs) 53:52; 60:53 [Distr. By Albany] ***:
The immediate misfortune on this fine set that celebrates the piano artistry of the monumental Sviatoslav Richter (1915-1997) in the music of Beethoven is the presence of two major dropouts in the live performance (October 1954) of the Third Concerto’s Largo movement at 7:57 and 8:57, respectively, each about five seconds’ length. The more’s the pity, since the collaboration with conductor Hermann Abendroth (1883-1956) marks one of the few extant excursions of this important colleague of Furtwaengler into Russian soil. Their eminently sober reading of the C Minor Concerto reveals Richter a potent interpreter of the piece, especially in the first movement cadenza. That Abendroth can sing comes to the fore in the fugato in the third movement Allegro. Whether the sonic defect lies in my copy or is a manufacturer’s error (or a direct product of the source) I cannot determine.
The 1808 Choral Fantasy, on the other hand, a collaboration with the estimable Kurt Sanderling from Moscow, 1952, offers a chorus singing the noble–even Masonic–words in Russian, without any alteration of the beat. Richter’s bravura contribution fully captures the improvisational element in Beethoven’s curious mixture of elements, so much a preparation for the colors, procedures, and sentiments in the Ninth Symphony.
The Beethoven Pathetique Sonata (4 June 1959) proffers Richter’s special alchemy of velvet and granite, his taking the repeat in the first movement truly imparting a true sense of “grand sonata” in C Minor, whose painful chromaticism contrasts with its willful diatonism. The Appassionata Sonata (9 June 1960) live from Moscow proves nothing short of stupendous, as tumultuous as it is tender. Rarely have even the variations of the central movement communicated such urgency, and the last movement achieves a diabolical speed and ferocity to shake the walls of Jericho, the triple-fortes steaming from the force of the hammer blows. To say the audience erupts at the last chords posits a dire understatement. Richter, who protested against his being an “integralist,” resisted performing entire cycles of Beethoven, from sonatas to those incidental sets of bagatelles. Of the eight pieces herein recorded, the C Major from Op. 33 virtually explodes with fury, as does the demonic B Minor, Op. 126, No. 4. But Richter’s playing can purr with tender affection, his own polarities projected into a superb technique that could effect a glacial objectivity.
—Gary Lemco
by John Sunier | Oct 29, 2011 | Jazz CD Reviews
Vince Mendoza – Nights on Earth – Horizontal HJAZZ 092011-1 CD, 1.1 hrs. *****:
(Vince Mendoza, composer & keyboards; 22 musicians, including: Ambrose Akinmusire, Joe Lovano, John Abercrombie, Alex Acuna, Peter Erskine, Romero Lubambo, Christian McBride, Andy Narell, Jim Walker, Bob Mintzer, Kenny Werner & more, plus members of the Metropole Orkest)
Mendoza’s likes to collaborate with large groups: his last album (1997) was Epiphany, with the London Symphony Orchestra. He also did Fast City: a Tribute to Joe Zawinul, as well as Blauklang. For the past six years Mendoza has been conductor of the Metropole Orkest in Amsterdam—that hotbed of genre-busting music-making, and he uses members of that Dutch ensemble here, as well as Brazilian vocalist Luciana Souza, a kora player and singer from Mali, an Algerian drummer, and French saxist Stephane Guillaume. This is an amazing semi-symphonic dozen-track creation with all-star collaborators, all composed, arranged and conducted by Mendoza.
The pieces are evocative of events and concerns in Mendoza’s recent life, and while mostly instrumental, two of them have vocals. “Shekere” – with vocal by Tom Diakite from Mali, has a lovely African sound. It picks up the tempo partway thru for a rousing beat and a great guitar solo by Nguyen Le. “Ao Mar” is a beautiful and original bossa nova vocal number which sounds plenty authentic to me, though since there’s no translation of the lyrics I can only guess what it’s about. Luciana Souza is the singer, and the fine guitar solo is by Romero Lubambo. The closing track, “Lullaby,” opens with a striking cello solo. An accordion joins in for a tango-flavored but very quiet contemplative track. Simple gorgeous, and with all these A1 musicians you can’t miss.
TrackList:
Otono, Poem of the Moon, Ao Mar, Conchita, The Stars You Saw, Addio, Shekere, Beauty and Sadness, The Night We Met, Gracias, Everything is You, Lullaby.
—John Henry
by John Sunier | Oct 29, 2011 | Pop/Rock/World CD Reviews
Mike Garson, piano – The Bowie Variations – Reference Recordings HDCD RR-123, 49:22 [Distr. by Allegro] ****:
The versatile Mike Garson, who last year had a very nice previous Reference Recordings CD with jazz flutist Jim Walker, served as David Bowie’s pianist on and off (1972 to 2006) for some years. He also did work with Smashing Pumpkins and Nine Inch Nails, so he is no stranger to rock and pop. Another of his Reference Recordings was Serendipity, with bassist Stanley Clarke and drummer Bill Mintz. As with Christopher O’Riley’s solo piano improvisations on Radiohead tunes, Garson felt it was time to explore the “maximum freedom within a confined discipline” which led many famous classical composers to write variations on themes. He’s not the first to do this: Justin Levitt and David Glass have a piano four hands video on YouTube of some Bowie music.
Bowie, who now lives a retired life in NYC under his birth name, once said of Garson that he was “…the best rock pianist in the world because he does not play rock.” So it seems Garson is highly qualified to do these interpretations of Bowie’s music. He actually helped define the sound of some of Bowie’s best-known tunes. He doesn’t perform all of them solo piano; some just have too much going on for that. On “Let’s Dance” and “Heroes,” he overdubs with up to three pianos. The latter was from Philip Glass’ variations on Bowie themes, so this is variations on variations, and of course follows the obsessive Glass minimalism, but with some jazzy twists.
I’m not a big Bowie fan, so the most familiar of his tunes here to me was his “Life on Mars.” It remains faithful to the original tune, which I liked, but also has some very clever variations and ornamentation. Garson doesn’t just do straight jazz treatments of these tunes; he moves thru classical, pop and even avant-garde genres here and there. Most interesting. And if you have proper HDCD decoding on your player, preamp or receiver, you’ll be hearing the best possible sonics from 44.1K CDs, living up to the audiophile standards of Reference Recordings.
TrackList: Space Oddity, John I’m Only Dancing, Life On Mars, Heroes, Ashes to Ashes, Variations on “Changes,” Let’s Dance, Battle for Britain/Loneliest Guy/Disco King, Tribute to David (Garson), Wild is the Wind, Space Oddity (Take 2).
—John Henry
by John Sunier | Oct 29, 2011 | Classical Reissue Reviews
Henri Merckel plays = HUBEAU: Violin Concerto in C; DELANNOY: Serenade Concertante; La Pantoufle de Vair; SAINT-SAENS: Violin Concerto No. 3 in B Minor, Op. 61 – Henri Merckel, violin/ Lamoureux Concerts Orchestra/ Eugene Bigot/ Paris Conservatoire Orchestra/ Charles Munch (Delannoy)/ Pasdeloup Concerts Orchestra/ Piero Coppola (Saint-Saens) – Dutton CDBP 9805, 71:23 [Distr. by Harmonia mundi] **** :
The French-Belgian school of violin artistry had a fine exponent in Henri Merckel (1897-1969). A pupil of Guillaume Remy and Nadia Boulanger, Merckel cultivated a fine legato tone and subtle portamento on a Nicolo Gagliano instrument. For many years, Merckel spent his career as a first chair in various French orchestral ensembles. Though Merckel made important solo recordings in the mid-1930s, he also recorded during the dark days of Nazi occupation in France, inscribing Gallic repertory dear to his heart and inspiring to his oppressed countrymen. His signature though “sec” B Minor Concerto of Saint-Saens (27 June 1935) with Piero Coppola has been compared favorably to those versions by Grumiaux and Francescatti. The innate chastity and nobility of musical line preserve Merckel’s often impassioned approach for posterity.
Merckel and Eugene Bigot (12-13 May 1942) open the program with the lyrical C Major Concerto of Jean Hubeau (1917-1992), a genial piece written expressly for Merckel in three standard movements and undemanding harmony. Colorful and light, the music bears a distant similarity to aspects of Bruch and Ibert, jaunty in the main with moments of flirtatiously exotic orchestral hues. The last movement tries hard to become a rollicking tarantella, but it remains rather stiff in the joints, though some riffs remind me of the Korngold Concerto in D.
Marcel Delannoy (1898-1962) enjoyed some fame as a composer through the efforts of conductor Charles Munch, but his star has certainly faded. Thee twenty-minute Serenade Concertante (21 July 1941) moves rather idiomatically for the violin, though its content remains strictly that of a light suite in three movements. The scoring near the end of the opening Allegro becomes darkly aggressive for a moment, then abruptly stops. A kind of extended woodwind-string serenade opens the Andante; and at about two minutes the solo enters with a wistful air over muted strings and harp in exotic colors. The music becomes more impassioned but relents quickly to those wistful, short phrases over mixed woodwind colors and Moorish breezes. Capriccio evokes something of Saint-Saens’ penchant for chorale-themes and tangos at once, but this music lacks his natural melos. A cabaret sensibility insinuates itself, with the solo’s serving as a commentator while the figures become more hectic. As a vehicle for Merckel’s suave style, the piece can be genially effective. To fill out the original shellac set, Munch chose two excerpts from Delannoy’s Cinderella ballet, the Dance of the Little Negroes and Apotheosis, the former of which in a pseudo-Brazilian style provides lithe figures for Merckel’s easy grace.
—Gary Lemco
by John Sunier | Oct 29, 2011 | SACD & Other Hi-Res Reviews
VIVALDI: 8 Flute Concertos – Barthold Kuijken, transverse flute/ La Petite Bande/ Sigiswald Kuijken – Accent multichannel SACD 24241, 66:12 [Distr. by Qualiton] ****:
Those Kuijken brothers (Wieland—cello, Barthold—flute, & Sigiswald—violin) never cease to amaze. They have recorded umpteen albums of baroque and other music, specializing of course in period practice—whatever that is anymore—but always giving us radiant performances that stand up with the best. It’s hard to believe that La Petite Bande will be 30 years old next year (2012).
La Petite Bande is petite indeed on this recording, two violins, viola, and harpsichord. The debate will go one as to whether the chamber music of the baroque was miniscule or medium—both sides put forth good examples. The rationale here is that the transverse flute, a more modern instrument that was rapidly overtaking the recorder, yet with only one key, was also substantially hampered in terms of vying with the smaller instrument in terms of technical flexibility. It has a softer gentler sound that cannot compete with the piercing effect of the more versatile recorder. Fair enough—it is hard to imagine a larger orchestral scheme without heavily (and artificially) miking the solo instrument, and no one wants that, right? So when we hear the three concertos from Opus 10 here, and compare them with a recorder (Petri–RCA) or even a modern flute (Kutluer—Gallo) we are essentially comparing apples and oranges. The tonal characteristics—not to mention the rewriting that Vivaldi must have done…at least someone did—make it an entirely different listening experience.
The other pieces here are not originally for the transverse flute, but were also culled from existing sources, like the many violin concertos, and even then the radical difference in timbre is striking. This is not at all a bad thing, just a rather amazing example as to how tone color actually affects the emotional perception we have of music.
The Kuijkens can do no wrong performance-wise of course, and each of these little jewels is well worth exploring, though I would be remiss if I did not suggest that you add a recorder and modern flute rendition to your collection as well. The ones mentioned above will serve nicely. Fine SACD sound proves once again how amenable the medium is to smaller ensembles and not just the larger, splashier pieces. Recommended!
—Steven Ritter
by John Sunier | Oct 29, 2011 | SACD & Other Hi-Res Reviews
ANTONIO ROSETTI: Requiem, H 15; Sinfonia in E-flat, Murray A23; Graduale in E-flat, Murray H24; Graduale in B-flat, Murray H25; Salve Regina in E-flat, Murray F85; Jesu, rex fortissimo in d, Murray H31 – Marcia Porter, soprano/ Anna Havlikova, mezzo-soprano/ Ondrej Socha, tenor/ Matthew Markham, baritone/ The Prague Singers/ La Gioia/ Camerata Philharmonic Bohemia/ Johannes Moesus – ARS multichannel SACD 38 095, 61:51 [Distr. by Qualiton] ***1/2:
This is an interesting SACD of mostly late music by the impressive Antonio Rosetti (1750-92), a Bohemian educated by the Jesuits in Prague, but eventually avoiding the clerical estate to become a double-bassist and composer whose music was quite frequently played. He sired three children and was prolific musically as well, especially noted for his Six Symphonies (1782), his Horn Concerto (which many think served as the model for Mozart’s four) and many concertos (which I can easily recommend the four-disc set from CPO 777166). He wrote in other genres as well, as this disc testifies to, though I am not so sure the choral work is up to the instrumental standards.
When in 1791, nine days after Mozart’s death, conductor Joseph Strobach sought for a work to be done in the late composer’s memory, he turned to one actually written 15 years earlier, fairly well known, and existing in different versions by Rosetti. Some adjustments had to be made (it was originally composed for the funeral of a royal woman) but this posed little difficulty for the seasoned conductor. The piece is mildly inspired, somewhat derivative in spots, though also sports a few really Mozart-like moments, the kind you find in abundance in his concertos and symphonies. What really raises eyebrows is the fact that this music was given in the large church of St. Nicholas in Prague (it held 4000 people) by a combined force of 120 musicians! (Don’t period instrument practitioners ever read some of these accounts?) So much for small-sized classical performances…which is what we get here as well.
The other works are essentially motets written for varied times and places. The rollicking Symphony in E-flat, which features a gorgeous slow movement, is probably the best work here, with the excellent programming choice to include Meingosus Gaelle’s arrangement of the piece into two choral graduales that use the work almost in toto (two movements anyway), yet is extremely clever in the harmonic interjections of the choir.
Knowing many of the concertos as I do, this album was poised to be a big success with me, but I just don’t think the writing is up to Rosetti’s usual standards. Nevertheless, the committed performances on this disc will go about as far toward convincing Rosetti lovers that they should own this disc as can be. Others might want to sample the CPO discs first. Sound is simply delightful here, well-balanced and lively with a fine degree of warmth in the choral passages. Solo performers are excellent, along with the choir, though there are some scratchy moments in the orchestra, not detrimental to full enjoyment.
—Steven Ritter
by John Sunier | Oct 29, 2011 | Classical CD Reviews
“The Contemporary Natural Horn” = ARKADY SCHILKLOPER: Alpine Trail; JAMES NICHOLAS: Sonata No. 3 for Natural Horn and Piano, “Searching”; JEFFREY SNEDEKER: Goodbye to a Friend; DOUGLAS HILL: Thoughtful Wanderings for natural horn, percussion, and recorded nature sounds; HERMANN BAUMANN; Elegia für Natürhorn; RANDALL FAUST: Dances for Natural Horn and Percussion; JEFFREY ARGELL: September Elegy for natural horn and piano; THOMAS HUNDERNER: Gently Weep for natural horn and digital delay; C. D. WIGGINS: Three Pieces for Natural Horn and Piano, Op. 88 – Jeffrey Snedeker, natural horn / Marilyn Willbanks, John Sanders, and Nikolas Caoile, piano / Mark Goodenberger, percussion – Jeffrey Snedeker JS3, 76:01 ***½:
Who knew? According to the introductory note in the booklet of this recording, a goodly number of contemporary composers have turned their attention to the natural horn, attracted by the instrument’s “wide ranging color palette” and stimulated by the challenges that its limit range posses. The best works on the program approach these features of the instrument in a musical way, while the least successful are by composers who just seem to want the horn to make vaguely musical noise. In fact, that’s probably true of contemporary music in general. But that’s a topic for another discussion.
Going by my own formula, among the more successful works on the program is James Nicholas’s Third Sonata, one of four the composer wrote for the instrument. Nicholas is concerned with performance practice of music from the Baroque era to the nineteenth century; I turned up an Internet article by him addressing considerations for performing the Schumann Cello Concerto. So perhaps expectedly, his horn sonata is tonal, melodic, probing in terms of sound production. Nicholas explores especially the upper range of the natural horn, exploiting both those noted limitations and coloristic possibilities: the hornist has to use a great deal of hand-stopping of the instrument to produce the fluid scale passages that Nicholas demands. I like the call-and-echo effects of the first movement.
I place Goodbye to a Friend, written by hornist Jeffrey Snedeker himself, among the more appealing pieces on the program. Again, this work puts the horn through its paces, demanding seamless playing through the tricks (hand-stopping, additional crooks) available to the natural horn player. It also makes a satisfying musical statement, a mini-Les Adieux Sonata.
More challenging both technically and musically is Elegia by the great German horn player Hermann Baumann. It’s angular, chromatic, by turns sad and angry. At the other end of the spectrum is English composer C. D. Wiggins’s upbeat Three Pieces, which is the most traditional-sounding work on the program. Its jazzy jauntiness reminds me a bit of Constance Lambert or even William Walton.
More elegiac music from Jeffrey Argell and Thomas Hunderner. Argell’s piece has the most contemporary feeling; a lament for the victims of 9/11, it includes improvisatory passages for both the horn and the piano and a fractured, dissonant Chorale that brings little peace. By contrast, Hunderner’s work takes its title not from any specific event but from a Beatles tune, “When My Guitar Gently Weeps,” since one of its musical motifs bears a resemblance to the song. The use of the digital relay, producing the same kind of echo effects heard elsewhere in the program, is conservative but appealing, though the piece does go on longer than it needs to.
Among those more interested in sound effects (double-stops, slides, and so forth—the double-stop sounds very weird indeed on the horn) are composers Arkady Shilkloper and Douglas Hill. I can take or leave their pieces. But then you can’t have a winner every time.
Horn players will of course want to hear this CD, but I think it’ll have broader appeal, thanks to the quality of the best music on the disc and the pretty remarkable playing of Jeffrey Snedeker, who teaches at Central Washington University and apparently keeps a busy schedule of performing with orchestras and jazz groups. If you want to know what the natural horn is capable of, Mr. Snedeker will let you hear.
—Lee Passarella
by John Sunier | Oct 29, 2011 | Classical CD Reviews
MOZART: Ave Verum Corpus, K. 618; Requiem, K. 626; Per questa bella mano, K. 612 – Elizabeth Watts, soprano/ Phyllis Pancella, mezzo-soprano/ Andrew Kennedy, tenor / Eric Owens, bass-baritone/ Robert Nairn, double bass obbligato/ Harry Christophers/ Handel and Haydn Society – Coro COR16093 [Distr. by Allegro], 53:59 ***:
While Berlioz was working on his Requiem in 1837, he wrote to his sister Adèle about the project and cited the two most significant models for such a work at the time: “I will no doubt be accused of being addicted to innovation because I would like to give this domain of art an ingenuous expression, from which Mozart and Cherubini, it seems to me, were often far removed. I am making terrifying associations which fortunately have never been attempted, and of which I deem myself to have the initial idea.” Berlioz is probably, himself, being a little disingenuous here because he undoubtedly got some ideas from the Dies Irae of Cherubini’s C Minor Requiem, with its striking use of the tam-tam and its dark seething energy.
But Berlioz seems to me right about the Mozart Requiem. While it has passages of solemn grandeur and great beauty of expression, Mozart doesn’t seem intent on capturing the terrors of the Day of Judgment. We know from his writings that, sustained by his faith, he felt death held no horrors for him. Of course, as Dr. Johnson was supposed to have said, the prospect of a man’s imminent death “concentrates his mind wonderfully.” Mozart seems to have been superstitiously rattled by the messenger in black who commissioned the Requiem for an unknown patron. (This unknown turned out, disappointingly for those who like a good story, to be one Count Franz von Walsegg, an amateur composer notorious for passing off the work of others as his own, which he wanted to do with the Requiem.) With Mozart’s health in constant decline as he worked on the Requiem, it’s natural that he had fatalistic feelings about the piece. But the Dies Irae, which Berlioz makes truly unsettling, has a Classical restraint, or at least a Classical rigor, about it, while the Tuba mirum, where Berlioz unleashes his four brass choirs and eight timpanists, in Mozart has the quiet dignity and Italianate grace of one of his concert arias. The finest parts—the solemn, slow-treading Introitus and the achingly sad Lacrimosa—make no big noises.
That said, in this live recording from Boston, Harry Christophers seems bent on bringing the greatest amount of drama he can to the work. That impression is reinforced by the usual adrenalin that flows through a performance before a live audience and by a recording that is close up and very dry. In the notes to the recording, Christophers makes much of Boston Symphony Hall’s outstanding acoustics, but there’s little evidence of the warm inviting ambience of the place. This has some unfortunate side effects, including exposing the rough playing of the trombones. In fact, there’s a rough-edged quality to the orchestral playing that, as I hinted, doesn’t square with my aural image of the work. However, the singing of Christopher’s well-prepped chorus is top-notch, as you’d expect.
As far as the soloists are concerned, there are the usual slight problems with tuning that are an artifact of live performance, but mostly the performances are very decent; the reliable Elizabeth Watts sings beautifully for the most part (though she swallows a few of her lowest notes). But I’m just not a fan of Eric Owens’s performance. He has a suitably big resonant bass but also a quavery sort of vibrato that compromises his work in the Requiem and in the unusual bonus item, the aria Per questa bella mano, written for members of Emanuel Schikaneder’s theater company.
Christopher’s dramatically charged approach to the score is compelling. However, with well over a hundred other recordings of the Requiem available, the vicissitudes of live performance place this one well shy of the top ranks.
—Lee Passarella
by John Sunier | Oct 29, 2011 | Jazz CD Reviews
Grupo Falso Baiano – Simplicidade: Live at Yoshi’s – Massaroca Records MR20111, 54.2 min. *****:
Choro or chorinho was the first urban pop music to come out of Brazil, originating in the 19th century in Rio. It is a mostly instrumental style characterized by improvisation, syncopation, counterpoint, virtuosity, subtle modulations and happy rhythms. You might even think of it as a sort of Brazilian folk jazz. Originally it was played be a trio of flute, acoustic guitar, and cavaquinho (a little four-string instrument). Large groupings could have mandolin, clarinet, sax, trumpet and trombone, often backed with a rhythm section of guitars and light percussion. Choro compositions usually have three parts played in rondo form: AABBACCA, each one usually in a different key. The choro also incorporated other musical styles from Europe and Africa, just as ragtime in the U.S. and tango in Argentina did. Villa-Lobos defined choro as the true incarnation of Brazilian soul, and Gnattali said it was the most sophisticated instrumental pop music in the world.
Grupo Falso Baiano is basically a quartet with one performer on reeds, one on mandolin, one on 7-string guitars, and another on percussion. But for this live appearance at the leading jazz club in the San Francisco area—Yoshi’s in Oakland—the quartet was rounded out with leading performer Jovino Santos Neto on a half dozen of the tracks, playing piano, accordion or flute. And also percussionist Brian Rice sitting in on four of the ten tracks. Neto is the composer of four of the tracks, and the famous choros composer of the ‘50s and ‘60s—Jacob do Bandolim—is represented by two tracks. The great late Brazilian accordionist and guitarist Sivuca has two pieces on the CD, and the third track is from the earlier choros pioneer Pixinguinha, with a ragtime feeling to it.
The quartet offers various perspectives on this folk form which is becoming better known in modern Brazilian jazz interpretations. One is the more historical style, with slower tempi and a more stately mien, another is the jazz samba mode, and the third is a faster-paced modern choro with flute, mandolin and accordion solos. Great fun! If this resonates with you, you might want to try some of the choros-based releases on the Adventure Music label—many featuring U.S. mandolinist Mike Marshall.
TrackList:
Caminhando, Simplicidade, Cheguei, Feira Livre, Kenny e Voce, Rosa Digana, Bem Brasil, Deixa O Breque, Doce de Coco, Forro na Penha.
—John Henry
by John Sunier | Oct 29, 2011 | SACD & Other Hi-Res Reviews
Secret Voices = Chant and Polyphony from the Las Huelgas Codex, c. 1300 – Anonymous 4 – Harmonia mundi multichannel SACD 807510, 58:27 ****:
The Santa María la Real de Las Huelgas monastery is located in Burgos Spain, and has been a house of Cistercian nuns since 1199, when Eleanor of England, daughter of Henry II of England and Eleanor of Aquitaine, asked her husband Alfonso VIII of Castile to establish the house some twelve years earlier. The house was favored by many royal privileges, and the abbess was able to exercise not a little degree of civil authority, as well as duties somewhat unusual like licensing priests and convening synods. The notes to this release try to make the case that an abbess hearing confessions might seem “shocking” today, but we need not be alarmed—this is common in many women’s monastic orders east and west today, though the idea that she could give absolution (rumored in some information regarding Las Huelgas) is doubtful, and the idea that she could “say mass”, meaning exercise the priestly function is simply nonsense—this never happened, even though it cannot be doubted that the more powerful abbesses of the day wielded a lot of authority in the realm where their monastery existed.
Anonymous 4 is of course also convinced that the music that exists in the codex from this institution—a large and varied anthology that covers two centuries—was intended for the nuns to sing and not the male chaplains. I can’t fault the group for assuming this—after all, they are four women in constant search of new music, though they have been criticized in many review publications for recording repertory that others are convinced never was intended to be sung by females. I suppose from an authentic point of view this does matter somewhat, if the prime directive of that movement is taken to be an historical reconstruction of ancient performance practice. And maybe Anonymous 4 thinks that way as well and is convinced that this is the way it should happen. I am not sure, nor am I sure it matters. Music, even ancient music, is first and foremost a living art, and it must be presented as such with as much dedication and fervor as is possible. Few ancient music groups can match these ladies in their track record along these lines, and their consistency from album to album is astonishing, even with the replacement of one member.
The recording attempts to convey what a single “day” of music in honor of the Virgin Mary might have been like, and the variety of polyphonic and plainchant pieces make for an intriguing mix. The day is divided up into “First Light”, “Morning”, “Mass”, “Evening”, and “Night”, but note that the “mass” is not a real one composed for the occasion but instead a collection of assembled pieces, probably just like it would have been then. It is really quite an assemblage that testifies to the great variance in musical forms and styles present at the time.
Performances are excellent, HM’s production values superb as usual. If you collect A4 recordings this is no time to stop.
—Steven Ritter
by John Sunier | Oct 28, 2011 | Audio News
Amazon Beefs Up Streaming Options – Amazon Prime members will now be able to instantly stream current and archived PBS programs. This will bring the total number of Prime instant videos to 12,000 by the end of 2011, more than doubling the Prime instant video title count since its launch. More than 300 different devices are compatible with Amazon Prime, including the new Kindle Fire tablet. Prime members will be getting access to over 1000 episodes of PBS TV programs, such as NOVA, Ken Burns’ documentaries, Frontline and Washington Week. PBS joins recently-announced Fox shows 24, Arrested Development, The X-Files and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. In early November PBS will bring Prime memebers 200 episodes of The French Chef with Julia Child. The subscription rate is $79 per year, and members receive free shipping on certain Amazon purchases as well as access to Amazon Prime instant videos—including more than 12,000 movies and TV shows at now additional cost. Licensing deals have been secured from such partners as: CBS, Fox, PBS, NBC Universal, Sony and Warner Bros. Amazon Instant Video streams over 100,000 titles, including new releases and TV shows the day after airing.
Panasonic to Restructure Their Loss-Making TV Business – Panasonic is closing factories and losing more than 1000 jobs as they continue to slash expenditures. Although Panasonic plasmas are picked as the best plasma TV in the world today, the company is facing millions in losses from their plasma and LCD TV business. Their production of plasma panels at Amagasaki, Japan will be halted next March and they are also selling their LCD display panel-maker in Mobara.
Cool Turntable Spins Your Vinyl for Only $150,000 – Engineer Aleks Bakman (who once received a special award from NASA) has created an audiophile-pleasing precision turntable benefitting from virtually resonance-free operation. The beautiful One Degree of Freedom system has a massive sound-dampening platter suspended on a specially-developed self-centering bearing in a non-resonant liquid suspension—claimed to eliminate shift or wobble in all cylindrical bearings. The aluminum alloy platter weighs 50 lbs. and features six chambers filled with a mixture of viscous oil and solid matter to dampen platter resonance. There are three o-ring drive belts and a microprocessor-controlled noise-canceling brushless drive adjusts its vertical motor position on-the-fly to cancel out any possible resonances in the drive belts. Using similar technology to that in noise-canceling headphones, the microprocessor detects any distortion from the mechanical system, and generates a counterphase signal to block out unwelcome sonic impurities. The drive is also said to have an error of less than 0.00001% of velocity value per revolution. The tonearm tower an support up to three tonearms and will work with any tonearm-cartridge combination to provide continuous smooth vertical tracking angle adjustment over three inches.
Sony Music Unlimited Now on Its Tablet – Sony’s Cloud-based streaming digital music service, Music Unlimited, is now available for their Android-based Sony Tablet. The service, which has a catalog of more than 10 million tracks and operates in nine countries, is a native app on the Sony Tablet. A Basic subscription is $3.99 and first-time subscribers can get a 180-day trial of the basic plan. It has an upgraded user interface, can create playlists faster, easily disover related songs and artists, quickly navigate between album view and catalog, and can return more streamlined search results.
by John Sunier | Oct 27, 2011 | Classical CD Reviews
VIVALDI: Sinfonia in C Major , RV 709; Cello Concerto in G Minor, RV 416; Cello Concerto in F Major, RV 412; Cello Concerto in C Major, RV 114; Cello Concerto in E Minor, RV 409; Cello Concerto in B Minor, RV 424; Cello Concerto in A Minor, RV 419; Concerto in D Minor for 2 Violins, Cello, Strings, and Continuo, RV 565; CALDERA: Sinfonia No. 12 in A Minor “La passione di Gesu Signor nostro”; Sinfonia No. 6 in G Minor – Jean-Guihen Queyras, cello/ Akademie fuer Alte Musik/ Georg Kallweit – Harmonia mundi HMC 902095, 68:34 ****:
Recorded in October 2010, this is one lively collection of a good bulk of Vivaldi’s 27 cello concertos, with works by fellow Venetian Antonio Caldera (1670-1736) included to fill out an already dense (30 individual tracks) program. The opening C Major Sinfonia by Vivaldi begins furioso, proffers a stately Andante, and concludes with a direct, truncated version of the “Spring” Concerto from The Four Seasons. Cello virtuoso Queyras enters properly with the G Minor Concerto, a piece that demands quick shifts of registration within the Lombardic format Vivaldi favors; the last movement Allegro demands arpeggios and runs at a decidedly brisk tempo. The “breathless” approach to Vivaldi has become the norm in the recent past, especially as the restrained vibrato in the original instruments lends a razor-honed effect to the streamlined sound. Queyras plays a 1696 instrument from Gioffredo Cappa, whose bass register projects a throaty tone, and the upper baritone sighs and warbles with particular urgency. The F Major Concerto, RV 412 has Queyras’ sawing in plaintive riffs, risoluto, occasionally altering his bow position to effect a rasping sound. Suspensions mark the Larghetto, the cello’s repeating an arioso figure not far from the “Winter” Concerto slow movement. Boisterous spirits rush the final Allegro along, the cello’s fioritura as virtuosic as anything in his violin concertos, the writing an immediate model for Boccherini.
The first Caldera piece, a “prelude” to an oratorio, the Sinfonia No. 12 in A Minor (1730), takes its cue from the sonata di chiesa (church style), this concerto expressly conceived for Holy Week. The influence of Corelli makes itself felt, the sound richly layered, the rhythm in the Allegretto a tripping gait that sachets with some distinction. The brief Adagio projects some mystery, the texture dark and moving to a held suspension, so that the final Allegro can enter with a deciso affect in generous harmony. The No. 6 in G Minor Sinfonia (1731) proves quite expressive, filled with sighing effects and prancing accompaniments. A brief Adagio leads to a bouncy but short Allegro e spiritoso in echo effects.
The little ripieno Concerto in C, RV 114 without any major solo part opens with gay, hunting figures and sighing motives. A solo violin does help us segue to the forceful Ciaccone, whose repeated figures sway and pulsate with festive energies.
Vivaldi’s Cello Concerto in A Minor, RV 419 exploits Queyras’ singing line, while the potent Lombardic beat and throbbing repeated riffs in the tutti add terraced dynamics that quite compel re-hearing. The give-and-take in the rhythmic flow certainly belies the idea that Vivaldi composed “the same concerto some 600 times.” The harpsichord of Raphael Alpermann distinctively fills in the rich continuo for these works, and his presence in the A Minor Concerto Andante almost constitutes a double-concerto. A wicked peasant dance in rocketing runs and broken figures has our feet tapping and ears burning in the final Allegro. An odd amalgam of timbres and textures, the Concerto in E Minor, RV 409 projects a Renaissance sound, almost a hurdy-gurdy assisted by a plaintive bassoon (Christian Beuse). The sudden bursts from the string tutti in the Allegro/Adagio keep us alertly wary. The last movement’s rhythm could have inspired parts of Massenet’s Le Cid.
The Corelli-inspired Concerto in D Minor, RV 565 (from L’estro Armonico, 1711) has had multiple lives in violin arrangements, even rescored by J.S. Bach as his BWV 596. The splendid bass line provided by Akademie Alte Musik throbs while the upper voices sing in resolute harmony. The Largo e spiccato second movement enjoys a plaintive sonority, melancholy but nobly measured. The Allegro indulges Vivaldi’s love of antiphons and the sudden juxtaposition of large and small forces. For a particularly lovely cantilena, try the Largo from the B Minor Concerto, RV 424; in fact, the entire nine-minute work points that lively infectious singing style that Boccherini adopted as his own.
—Gary Lemco
by John Sunier | Oct 27, 2011 | SACD & Other Hi-Res Reviews
RAMEAU: L’Orchestre de Louis XV: Suites D’Orchestre – Le Concert des Nations / Jordi Savall – Alia Vox multichannel SACDs (2 discs) AVSA9882 57:03, 50:50 [Distr. by Harmonia mundi] *****:
Jean-Philippe Rameau (1683-1764) came to prominence as a composer quite late in life. Indeed, had he lived only as long as Mozart, we would know very little about him. His parents had hoped he would have a career in the law, but his musicianship won through; he was sent from Dijon to Milan for further study and eventually started his working life as an organist, first in Avignon then Clermont-Ferraud, before moving to Paris. From contemporary accounts, he seems to have been something of a teacher’s nightmare at school, his boisterous behaviour manifesting itself in singing in class instead of working at his lessons. As an adult, he was thought to be a loner, preferring his own company for much of the time. He married the young singer and instrumentalist Marie-Louise Mangot when he was in his late 40s and she not yet 20, and the happy couple had four children.
The four works, “instrumental suites or symphonies”, presented on this stunningly good new release from Alia Vox postdate these events by some years. The earliest work Les Indes Galantes, an opera-ballet héroïque, dates from 1735 and remains one of his most popular works. After a break in writing, Rameau’s output in the 1740s and 1750s produced an avalanche of masterpieces, and included here are suites from Naïs (1749) and Zoroastre (1749), as well as that from his last work, the tragedy Les Boréades (1764), which had its first concert performance in 1963, and its first staged performance in 1982.
At odds with Rameau’s quiet and obsessive adult personality is his music, on the one hand bright and breezy with a sensation of the outdoors, and on the other, tremendously exciting and dramatic, and tugging the heart in its tragic writing.
Le Concert des Nations, an orchestra of about thirty players under Jordi Savall, uses instruments of the period, and the results here are of the highest order in all departments. Rameau’s use of percussion provides a variety of textures, none more so than in Les Vents a movement from Les Boréades, and the natural horns make a wonderful sound.
Recorded in 2010 and 2011 at the Collégiale de Cardona in Catalonia and at La Grande Salle de l’Arsenal in Metz, France, the sound quality is superb. That almost goes without saying concerning Alia Vox productions, of course, but the naturalness and unforced quality, the sense of air and space around the performers, especially in the very fine multichannel version, still amazes with its fidelity.
The substantial, well-illustrated and informative booklet is exemplary though I would prefer the booklet to be detachable from the digipak. All this life-enhancing music comes at budget price, too. For me, this is certainly a disc of the year.
TrackList:
Les Indes Galantes 1735 – Suite d’orchestre
1. Ouverture
2. Musette en Rondeau
3. Air vif
4. Air des Incas pour la dévotion du Soleil
5. Air pour les amants qui suivent Bellone*
6. Air pour les guerriers*
7. Menuets pour les Guerriers et Amazones I & II
8. Orage*
9. Air pour les esclaves africains*
10. Air pour Borée et la Rose*
11. 2ème Air pour les Zephirs*
12. Tambourins I/II *
13. Chaconne
Naïs 1748 – Suite d’orchestre
14. Ouverture
15. Musette tendre
16. Rigaudons I /II
17. Sarabande
18. Gavotte pour les Zéphirs
19. Loure
20. Musette
21. Tambourins I/II
22. Entrée des Luteurs
23. Chaconne
24. Air de Triomphe
Zoroastre 1749
1. Ouverture
2. Passepieds I/II
3. Loure
4. Air des Esprits Infernaux II
5. Air tendre en Rondeau
6. Air Grave
7. Gavotte en Rondeau
8. Sarabande
9. Contredanse
Les Boréades 1764 – Suite d’Orchestre
10. Ouverture
11. Entrée
12. Entrée des Peuples
13. Contredanse en rondeau
14. Les Vents
15. Gavotte I & II pour les heures et les Zephirs
16. Menuets I- II
17. Contredanse très vive
—Peter Joelson
by John Sunier | Oct 27, 2011 | Classical Reissue Reviews
VERDI: Messa da Requiem; WAGNER: Tristan und Isolde: Prelude and Liebestod; Parsifal: Good Friday Music; HAYDN: Symphony No. 104 in D Major “London” – Leonie Rysanek, soprano/ Regina Resnik, mezzo-soprano/ David Lloyd, tenor/ Giorgio Tozzi, bass/ Chicago Symphony Orchestra/ Fritz Reiner – Archipel ARPCD 0521, 2 CDs 72:31; 61:37 ****:
The indomitable Fritz Reiner (1888-1963) makes spectacular music with his manifold forces for the 1873 Verdi Requiem in Memory of Manzoni (3 April 1958), here in what is likely a broadcast performance, given the occasionally uneven and distant sonics that still do not diminish the often hysterical intensity the rendition achieves. Reiner did go on in 1960 to record a commercial version of the Verdi Requiem in Vienna with stellar soloists Leontyne Price, Rosalind Elias, Jussi Bjoerling, and Giorgio Tozzi. Of that later cast only Tozzi graces the Chicago performance, but the vocal troupe does not suffer. I have now auditioned the grand Domine, Jesu pie section three times, and the devotional ardor of the vocal quartet improves with repeated hearings. I assume we thank un-credited Margaret Hillis (1921-1998) for her preparation of the Chicago Symphony Chorus, as resonant and inflamed a vocal ensemble as I have heard in a simply tempestuous realization of the Dies Irae and its various vocal descents into the Abyss. As for the “purely” instrumental forces, just savor the trumpet work (Adolf Herseth), with its triple-tonguing and rocket figures.
Verdi, rather agnostic in his religious views, employed his natural theatrical sense in the organization of his Requiem, a humanistic appreciation of his friend Manzoni’s death in terms of polarized emotions of terror and sympathy. The A Minor opening has Reiner’s forced subdued and introspective, but the furious “hammer blows of fate” (to invoke Mahler’s phrase) from the bass drum and orchestral maelstrom invoke a real confrontation with metaphysical awe and fear of Judgment. Trumpets placed in the far corners and even outside the hall convey the threat of interstellar space. Rysanek must hit high C and Resnik purl her own legato phrases in Verdi’s application of operatic principles to a liturgical context. The vocal writing remains distinctly challenging yet acoustically balanced, often bestowing upon us melodies of visceral power. Tozzi’s bass brings a tortured humanity’s fear of the unknown into the anguished present. The huge arches in the more frenzied passages, piccolo shrieking at the top, quite steal one’s breath away. I recall in an interview with Florence Kopleff her absolute admiration of Reiner’s ability to control large and varied forces in the concert hall or opera pit. This set testifies to her confidence. At the last chord of the Libera me, having followed an aerial Lux aeterna, the audience palpably shouts and weeps in gratitude.
The Tristan excerpts (27 March 1958) project equally dynamic prowess, Wagner conducting of the highest order, on a measured par with those Knappertsbusch and Furtwaengler renderings of the orchestral version of the Prelude and Liebestod that singe one’s erotic soul. The expansive Prelude, rife with patient color and pregnant pauses, yields to the communion of love and death, and a superheated affair it is. The CSO cello line alone justifies the price of admission. Intensity and utter transparency texture combine to create has to be Liszt’s “dream of love” even in the midst of mortality. The CSO trumpets and divided strings announce the ceremonials for the Good Friday Music from Parsifal, surging upward to the gloriously Technicolor Dresden Amen. Reiner’s diminuendos prove as potent as his eruptive passages. Ray Still’s oboe renders a pure Wagner, chaste and rich at once. The exquisite sonority of the CSO strings reminds us that Reiner’s greatest ambition was to head that American orchestra of the sweetest strings, the Philadelphia.
The performance of the Haydn “London” Symphony certainly arrives as a decided plus in this set, Reiner’s having worked on Symphony No. 101 and No. 95 just prior to his death. He left no commercial record of No. 104, and this performance, despite some distant miking away from the interior woodwinds, leaves us wishing that Reiner had contracted to inscribe a complete set of the late Haydn for posterity. Athletic, robustly spirited, the D Major moves forward with a happy verve and confidence that certify the Archipel claim that this entire set belongs to its “Desert Island Collection” for you Robinson Crusoes of the spirit.
—Gary Lemco
by John Sunier | Oct 27, 2011 | Jazz CD Reviews
Joey De Francesco 40 – HighNote Records HCD 7226, 59:14 ****:
(Joey De Francesco – Organ; Ramon Banda – Drums, percussion; Rick Zunigar – Guitar)
One of the major personalities in the world of the Hammond B-3 organ is Joey De Francesco. Born into a musical family, he started to play piano at the age of four and ultimately switched into organ following in his father’s footsteps. Now forty years old, this current release is a birthday celebration of sorts, and is a testament to his continuing virtuosity.
Stylistically, De Francesco has developed a strong right hand, carving out rock-steady bass lines, thereby swinging at all tempos. So with this readily identifiable sound he launches into the first three cuts of this album “Donny’s Tune”, “Ashley Blue” and “Gloria” all of which were written by Joey for members of the family. Each of these gives him the opportunity to display his dexterity, and from within, tell a musical story fitting the occasion. On “Gloria” however he also delivers a vocal paean to his wife much in the style of the late singer and organist Joe Mooney. Digging into Soul Train mode, De Francesco and the group give the James Ingram musical trinket “One Hundred Ways” a workout that has guitarist Zunigar on fire and Joey delivering a hip shaking solo.
The Ray Charles sizzler “I’ve Got A Woman” provides the structure for Joey to pay his respects to one of his most important mentors, Jimmy Mc Griff. As one of the pioneers of soul-jazz, Mc Griff’s style gave impetus to De Francesco’s no-nonsense approach to his down- home adaptation on which he delivers this tune. Joey had always had an interest in technology and he uses his own model of a Numa Organ by Studiologic to move digital organ know-how forward on his own composition “V&G”. Sounding a lot like an early Milt Buckner with block chords, Joey offers a tender view, splendidly rendered. There is no fall off with the other tunes on the disc all of which easily reveal a combination of his liveliness and intrinsic swing make-up.
Joey De Francesco continues to develop his ideas and find new ways to take advantage of the organ’s seemingly endless capacity to create multiple attractive voices.
TrackList: Donny’s Tune; Ashley Blue; Gloria; One Hundred Ways; I’ve Got A Woman; V&G; Life Is Good; Bluz ‘n’3; Caruso.
—Pierre Giroux
by John Sunier | Oct 27, 2011 | Jazz CD Reviews
Kevin Crabb – Waltz for Dylan – Crabbclaw, 55:19 ****:
(Kevin Crabb – drums, producer; Don Thompson – bass; John Beasley – piano; Kelly Jefferson – tenor saxophone)
Drummer Kevin Crabb has had a full, busy life which has ranged from child actor to accomplished singer, from freelance musician to drum teacher. Recently Crabb formed his own group, Kevin Crabb and Friends, and self-released his solo debut, Waltz for Dylan, a showcase for Crabb’s compositional talents (he wrote the nine tracks) and his unified approach to music.
Hearing this nearly hour-long outing it is clear Waltz for Dylan is not focused exclusively on drumming and percussion. Crabb has put together a swinging jazz quartet which emphasizes everyone’s contributions, including pianist John Beasley, a versatile keyboardist with several solo projects and who has worked with everyone from Michael Franks to Miles Davis; Canadian tenor saxophonist Kelly Jefferson, who fronts her own quartet; and fellow Canadian/bassist Don Thompson, a multi-instrumentalist (bass, piano and vibes) whose credits include the John Handy Quintet, the Jim Hall Trio and George Shearing’s group.
The nine tunes share one common thread: tightly-executed ensemble efforts. The program does not center on one specific jazz style but a resilient group identity fuses the album into a demonstrative, upbeat whole. For example, the quickly-paced, post-bop cut “It Could Happen” highlights the interaction between Jefferson and Beasley, who bring a bouncy pulse to the propulsive piece, which seems to end far too soon. There’s a similar spirit on the assured, Latin-tinged “Nightscape,” where Beasley again presents his keyboard chops and Jefferson displays her sax skills. This is the only other performance which also feels too brief, where listeners may desire a few more choruses before the rousing finish.
There are several reasons to pay close attention to Crabb. For one, he is a hallmark of unobtrusive taste. His snare drum technique, for instance, is superlative and should not be taken for granted. This is apparent on the title track, an effusive ballad which honors Crabb’s son, who Crabb says in his liner notes, “inspires everyone’s best tune.” While Crabb provides the rhythmic foundation which binds the composition together, Beasley and Jefferson play off each other as if they have performed in the same band for years: Jefferson is encouraged and invigorated by Beasley’s comping, and Beasley shifts into several intriguing solo changes which are stimulated by Thompson and Crabb’s rhythmic patterns. Crabb’s subtle brushwork is accented on the lengthy, atmospheric “Flight,” which also is a superb setting for Jefferson’s tender tenor. The brisk, tempo-changeup “Spirit Dance” keeps Beasley and Crabb busy as they move swiftly from a samba march to a brash montuno (Cuban) time signature, each goading the other one in a demanding but fun excursion which is an album high point. Craftsmanship and convincing composition are what helps make Waltz for Dylan a strong session of modern jazz: the mixture of complete musicianship and great music results in a record which can be easily recommended to any jazz fan.
TrackList:
Ecology; Unbelievable But True; It Could Happen; Flight; Spirit Dance; Snow; River Sticks; Nightscape; Waltz for Dylan
–Doug Simpson
by John Sunier | Oct 27, 2011 | Jazz CD Reviews
Richard Kimball, solo piano – The Art of Aging – Richard Kimball Publishing RK7339, 57:42 ****:
Most jazz artists don’t get a gig which lasts for a long time. One- or two-night stands while on the road are par for the course; a few weeks at a local venue can occur. New York City pianist Richard Kimball, though, may have set some kind of record for his regular appearances. For the past three decades, he has been co-house pianist, along with Brazilian pianist Dom Salvador, at The River Café under the Brooklyn Bridge, where he plays his distinctive arrangements of tunes from the Great American Songbook and jazz standards. Kimball also has studied, composed and staged classical music and his versatility gives his composed and performed material a wider musical vocabulary than the norm, which provides his music a dynamic and engaging shift. This talent is well represented on Kimball’s new solo release, the all-original, ten-track outing The Art of Aging. The title reveals the album’s thematic continuity, with personalized and often emotionally-shaded pieces which reflect the subtle aspects of getting older. Five of the ten tracks were inspired by original cues Kimball wrote for a chamber music score for the documentary, “Grow Old Along with Me,” which aired on some PBS television stations. The other music echoes the thoughts which went into those five tracks: an expression on how it feels to become older and how different people manage the transition.
Two compositions are linked by the viewpoint of a father edging toward life’s horizon and the bond he has for his two sons. Opener “Make Hay While the Sun Shines” is written in a three-part structure which underscores the idea that time is important and not to be wasted. Kimball commences with an introduction which utilizes a 20th-century classical form and then modifies the tune via improvisation into several styles and rhythms which incorporate jazz and indirect Brazilian musical elements. The next cut, “Chaconne for My Sons,” is founded on a type of musical composition popular in the baroque era and which Kimball employs as a tool for variants on a repeated eight-bar harmonic progression. The repetition of a tender bass line and an accompanying rhythmic figure beautifully captures Kimball’s desire for a bright future for his children as well his sensitive blend of both classical music and jazz.
Longtime companionship is another constituent of going from younger years to retirement. Kimball includes two numbers which mirror maturing romance. The love ballad “Patricia’s Theme” has a lengthy rubato prelude and the tune’s main body flows with a mild swing rhythm where Kimball recurrently returns to the pleasant opening melody. The very brief motif, “The Hawk,” is used to close out “Patricia’s Theme,” and fosters the image of a hawk and its mate circling together as a metaphor for life-long devotion to a spouse
Two highlights benefit from Latin musical influences. “Blackout in Bolivia”—inspired by the lead-in section of Jacques Ibert’s impressionistic piano piece, “The Little White Donkey”—is Kimball’s tale of a lonely journey at night through the alto plano (Spanish for high plain) area of Bolivia. Rather than a shadowy and dark-tinged arrangement, Kimball presents a sprightly left-hand rhythm while he offers an exploratory, right-hand alternate. Another upbeat work is “Global Exchange,” which is a tribute to the San Francisco-based group which promotes human rights and social justice around the globe. In honor of the organization’s endeavors in Central and South America, Kimball applies a two-part theme which has a cheerful Latin cadence. There is other excellent material to listen to as well, including the easygoing title track, the hymn-like “The Tree of Life” and the ethereal, afterlife reflection “I’ll Be Somewhere.”
The album’s sound quality is sterling. Kimball’s Hamburg Steinway Model D is wonderfully recorded. Sometimes solo piano ventures have a cold characteristic due to microphone placement or other issues, but Kimball’s piano has a naturally warm veneer which adeptly suits his sometimes melancholy and sometimes affectionate compositions. [Don’t be misled if you should Google Richard Kimball—there is another one with more links who is a Goldman Sachs exec, recently divorced and having wild parties written up in the tabloids…Ed.]
TrackList:
Make Hay While the Sun Shines; Chaconne for My Sons; I’ll Be Somewhere; Patricia’s Theme; The Hawk; The Art of Aging; Blackout in Bolivia; The Tree of Life; Global Exchange; Hymn for the Farmer.
–Doug Simpson
