“There are many ways to arrange and release such a cycle – simply going through the numbered sonatas from one through 18 is the most straightforward – so it is interesting that the sequencing of Shaham’s cycle, or at least its first volume, is not numerical but strictly musical. This Canary Classics CD includes the three Mozart sonatas written in, yes, B-flat: K. 281, 333 and 570. The first of these dates to 1774, the second most likely to 1784, and the third to 1789; they thus span a considerable portion of Mozart’s compositional life. Interestingly, it is K. 281 that is in many respects the most virtuosic: it packs a great deal of display into its outer movements and considerable operatic emotionalism into its central Andante amoroso. Shaham is not a historic-performance pianist, and she does not hesitate to delve into the warmth and sustained beauty of which modern pianos are more capable than were the instruments of Mozart’s time. Yet she knows when to keep her touch light, as in the outer movements of this sonata, and she certainly knows how to handle ornamentation, which proliferates under her hands in this sonata and throughout the CD. There is perhaps a bit too much sustaining pedal in the finale of K. 281, but the overall lightness is there – despite being harder to achieve on a modern piano than on an instrument of Mozart’s time. In K. 333, the longest of these three sonatas, the operatic elements are most prominent in the opening movement, which glides along like a sweet little cabaletta until Mozart makes it something more pianistic. The second movement also has a singing quality – it is actually marked Andante cantabile – and Shaham makes the most of this element, just as she pays close attention to the gracefulness of a finale marked Allegretto grazioso. In K. 570, Shaham elegantly and warmly accentuates the gentle rocking motion underlying the first movement; presents the central Adagio in slow, lullaby-like manner, slightly lengthening the pauses between phrases; and brightens matters up significantly in a sprightly final Allegretto. These are very fine modern-piano performances, generally on the slow side compared with other readings of these works: Shaham enjoys exploring the emotional impact of the music and does not hesitate to select tempos and pianistic effects that enable her to do so. There is something charmingly old-fashioned about the result – which, among other things, shows quite neatly the many ways in which Mozart used the key of B-flat to bring out different feelings and emotions in these three sonatas.”
Take Effect reviews Orli Shaham's "Mozart Piano Sonatas, Vol.1"
The piano extraordinaire Orli Shaham has taken on an impressive project here, where she interprets the works of Mozart. On this first disc in a series of five, she offers us “K.281”, “K.333” and “K.570” in B-flat major, where each sonata unfolds with its own distinct voice amid much attention to detail.
“Piano Sonata In B-Flat Major No. 3, K.281” starts the listen with sublime piano acrobatics that often move at a furious pace, but also retreat to calmer ebbs, too, and “Piano Sonata In B-Flat Major No. 13, K.333” follows and leads as if it’s one of Mozart’s operas, where a highly melodic presence weaves in and out of gorgeous song craft that’s as stirring as it is fascinating.
“Piano Sonata In B-Flat Major No. 17, K.570” finishes the listen strong, where Shaham’s skills are nothing short of awe inspiring, often playing so meticulously, you’d think there were multiple pianos playing simultaneously.
Shaham certainly retains the artistic spirit of these classics, and injects plenty of drama, humor and adventurousness that will certainly keep us anticipating the next 15 sonatas of the this series.
TransCentury Media reviews Edward Smaldone's CD "Once and Again"
The five pieces by Edward Smaldone (born 1956) on a new release from New Focus Recordings show a similar level of interest in varying sonorities and instrumentation. Cantare di Amore (2009) is for soprano (Tony Arnold), flute (Tara Helen O’Connor), and harp (June Han). The flute and harp interconnect with sensitivity in all three songs, although the “swooning” sounds of the flute can be distracting; the voice, singing in Italian, is set with welcome clarity and without overly strained or overstated sounds – indeed, its expressiveness is welcome in a contemporary work, although its tonal language is certainly modern. Double Duo (1987/2006) is for flute (O’Connor), clarinet (Charles Neidich), violin (Daniel Phillips), and cello (Marcy Rosen). As the title indicates, this single-movement work handles the instruments mostly in pairs rather than as a quartet. Its rhythmic angularity is effective enough, although it does not fully explore the auditory differences among the participants. Letters from Home (2000/2007/2014) is a set of six movements, the sixth a reprise of the first, written for soprano (Susan Narucki), flute and piccolo (Judith Mendenhall), clarinet and bass clarinet (Neidich), and piano (Donald Pirone). The letters’ topics are mundane ones of the modern world, although hearing matters such as taxes, graduation gifts and familial relationships given the art-song treatment gives the work a certain pleasant piquancy. Duke/Monk (2011), a duet for clarinet (Neidich) and piano (Morey Ritt), offers two movements in different styles (hence the expository title), the first slow and improvisational in feeling, the second more strongly ornamented in the clarinet and with a more-intense woodwind focus. This set of chamber pieces is capped by a work for string orchestra: Sinfonia (1986/2010), played by the Brno Philharmonic Strings conducted by Mikel Toms. This piece is something of a disappointment, without the level of creativity in the other offerings on the disc and with the usual stop-and-start feeling that contemporary composers often use (generally, as here, with limited success) to pull audiences in different emotional directions. As a whole, the CD offers a good portrait of Smaldone’s varying interests in instrumental and vocal contrast, and his particular skill at writing for, blending and contrasting woodwinds – both with and without the human voice.
Additional Smaldone works are offered on one-half of a two-CD set from Ablaze Records, the other disc being devoted to music by Douglas Knehans (born 1957). The four Smaldone pieces here continue to show his skill with chamber ensembles and his interest in reimagining traditional combinations of instruments. Rituals: Sacred and Profane is for flute (Nave Graham), cello (Yijia Fang), and piano (Matthew Umphreys), and balances the roles of the three instruments carefully: none truly dominates, and all have opportunities to take the material in their own directions. Suite is a three-movement piece for violin (Scott Jackson) and piano (Umphreys). Its movements are suitably differentiated and, as usual for a work with this title, not strongly related to each other: the first, Impromptu, is in large part an extended solo violin cadenza; the second, Adagio, is indeed slow-paced but not especially emotive; the third, Stephane’s Dance, is angular and irregular, with the two instruments often sounding at cross-purposes as if the dancer is somewhat awkward, or perhaps trying too hard to impress. Three Scenes from the Heartland is for solo piano (Umphreys) and is well-constructed in an impressionistic sense, with a broadly flowing Introduction, a short and bouncily dissonant Scherzo, and a concluding Nocturne that is quiet and generally soft enough, if not particularly restful in light of its meandering tonal relationships. This is followed on the CD by Double Duo in a slightly quicker performance than the one from New Focus. Here the performers are Graham on flute, Mikey Arbulu on clarinet, Jackson on violin, and Fang on cello. It is interesting to compare the two readings: this one is brighter and more propulsive, with stronger emphasis on passages that take instruments to the extremes of their ranges; the New Focus one is broader and less concerned with highlighting the sonic differences among the instruments, with the result that it sounds more like an ensemble piece. As for the other Ablaze Records disc, it offers four Knehans pieces – two of which call for larger forces and some more-exotic instrumentation than anything here from Smaldone. These two Knehans works are Bang and Falling Air, the former for sextet and electronics, the latter for sextet and sheng. Both are conducted by William R. Langley; the ensemble includes flute (Graham), clarinet (Arbulu), percussion (David Abraham), piano (Umphreys), violin (Jackson), and cello (Fang), with Hu Jianbing on sheng in Falling Air. Each piece is an 11-minute-or-so exploration of tonal and instrumental contrasts, with Bang integrating the electronics into the ensemble as if the non-acoustic material turns the sextet into a septet, and with Falling Air doing something similar with the sheng – not so much drawing attention to the difference between its sound and that of the Western instruments as presenting it as a distinctive member of the group that is nevertheless part of the totality rather than primus inter pares. The motivic and rhythmic material in these works is less notable than their sound: they convey no particular message, but are intriguing explorations of varying sonorities. Knehans also shows on this release shows that he does not need a chamber ensemble to make his points: Temple, a work for solo flute (played by Graham), goes on almost as long as the sextets-plus (nearly nine minutes) but manages a thorough exploration of the flute’s moods and capabilities – without turning the instrument into a parody of itself. Temple does not quite sustain through its entire length, but it has many very interesting elements and will be particularly captivating for flute players. Also on this disc is Lumen, a three-movement work for cello (Fang) and piano (Umphreys) that is somewhat overly expansive (24 minutes) and somewhat overly lugubrious: movements labeled Yearning, Strained, Exhaustedly Expressive and Lentissimo-Grave frame a short central one called Spinning that provides some relief of tempo but none from the work’s rather strained emotionalism. On the basis of this recording, both Knehans and Smaldone are quite adept at writing for the various instruments they select, but neither uses those instruments to convey any particularly compelling or consistent message to a potential audience beyond the distinctly limited one that is interested in contemporary composition for its own sake.
CineMusical reviews Georgina Rossi's CD "Mobili: Music for Viola and Piano from Chile"
Mobili takes its title from a significant work by Juan Orrego-Salas (1919-2019) that anchors this collection of music for viola by Chilean composers. Violist Georgina Isabel Rossi’s program is a blend of works from the 1960s and the 21st Century exploring work by six composers. Rossi is a Chilean-born performer who has performed throughout the Americas and is currently a member of the Hartford Symphony Orchestra. She is joined here by Silvie Cheng who is known for her championing of new music and has recorded with her brother on the audite label.
The program is organized with the opening five works being shorter pieces and the larger multi-movement work serving as the conclusion with a brief encore-like piece to wrap things off. Two pieces by Rafael Diaz (b.1962) open the album. The first of these, Habra alguien que en sus manos sostenga este caer? (2009), is for amplified viola and uses a prayer-like folk melody from the Andes’ indigenous Pewenche people. The arc of the piece is related to the “sonorities” of prayer and opens with a ascending cry that will shift to a more lyrical, contemplative section. The outlines of the viola line suggest landscapes and there are musical gestures to also indicate bird calls. The Chilean landscape also informs Diaz’s In the Depths of My Distance Your House Emerges (2013). The composer’s ethnomusicological exploration of indigenous music is also present in this work.
The earliest work on the album is Carlos Botto’s (1923-2004) Fantaisie, Op, 15 (1962). His work is among those combining modernist tendencies and references to more traditional forms and genres, of which this work is a fine example. The open piano harmonies provide a careful underpinning of the almost romantic-like emotion of the solo line that moves into more intense segments as the motives of the piece are unpacked and explored in the work which has an excellent dramatic engagement whose episodic nature allows for a variety of challenges to overcome. Federico Heinlein (1912-1999) counts among his teachers Nadia Boulanger. His output focuses on poetic settings with the instrumental works often referencing poetry. That is the case for his Duo “Do Not Go Gentle” (1985) which takes inspiration from a Dylan Thomas poem. There are some really beautiful, folk-like romantic lines that provide a warm, emotional core to this music. Tololo (2011) wraps up this first part of the program. Originally for viola and string orchestra, this David Cortes (b. 1985) work takes its inspiration from the home of an important observatory on Mount Tololo. The music follows the imagination of seeing through a telescope with its ability to see far and zoom in for new detail.
Mobili, Op. 63 is a four-movement work by Orrego-Salas (1967). The first movement has a sparse piano accompaniment and focuses on a long, lyrical line that grows slowly upward. The piano tends to provide signposts and will then revisit the material from the solo line, expanding the harmonic tension. “Discontinuo” is a contrasting movement of jagged and angular writing. Interaction between the soloist becomes heightened here adding to a sense of unease that keeps things on edge. In “Ricorrente”, seems to blend a seeking out and have a veiled reference to ricercare, with its somewhat staggered commentary between the soloist and piano. The motivic idea introduced is expanded and explored between the two which sometimes come together. The longest movement of the four, it seems to also hold a stronger emotional core which is mined well here by Rossi. Things are wrapped up with a brilliant “Perpetuo” movement to provide more technical and virtuosic challenges.
As a bonus track, the program concludes with a transcription of the song El Sampredrino (1968) by the composer often called the Argentinean Schubert, Carlos Guastavino (1912-2000). His music fits into the more folk-inspired styles (a la Ginastera) with nods to the post-romantics. It makes for a touching conclusion.
While the music here tends toward more modernist contemporary qualities, the expressiveness of these pieces is captured beautifully by Rossi who navigates these moments of lyricism with beautiful playing. Her articulation for the rapid passage moments also works to aid the dramatic contrasts of the pieces on this program. The careful placement of these works also gradually expands the tonal palette so that the ear adjusts to the open, modern harmonies. When the music introduces a more romantic-tinged line, they stand out in stunning contrast to the quartal/quintal harmonic piano accompaniment which is handled equally well by Cheng. Perhaps it is the warm tone of the viola which also makes this album further inviting and certainly worth a look for those interested in expanding their musical world. Sound quality is excellent with a perfect balance of soloist and piano, both imaged well in the sonic picture. The piano has a nice warm quality with just enough ambience to warm things up and keep them from being to dry. This is due as much to the excellent performances that are captured in this fine release.
WQXR features Georgina Rossi's CD "Mobili: Music for Viola and Piano from Chile"
The wonderful thing about technology is how easy it’s become to share music with people all over the world. Armed with that knowledge, violist Georgina Isabel Rossi and pianist Silvie Cheng decided they wanted to bring some rarely-performed works by Chilean composers to the masses. Rossi and Cheng take us through five decades of Chilean viola music in Mobili, featuring world premiere recordings of works by Rafael Díaz, Carlos Botto, Federico Heinlein, and David Cortés, with a special tribute to Juan Orrego-Salas — who, just a few days before recording began, passed away. Feeling an incredible responsibility to do justice to his work, the duo decided to dedicate and name the album for his piece.
When I asked her about the album — a project two years in the making — Rossi revealed that the recording process was unlike anything she’d done before. The emotions going into creating the album were complex, and it felt particularly special because, with one exception, the works on Mobili had never been recorded before. And while Rossi shares a certain geographical connection to selections (she was born in Chile), she wanted to do the project because of the composers and pieces themselves: “They felt like treasures,” she says, “they’re top-notch.”
Orrego-Salas, for example, was in the United States for two years as a Rockefeller and a Guggenheim Foundation grantee, and he studied composition with Aaron Copland and George Herzog. “They were not nobodies,” Rossi says, they were just some of the many whose pieces had not been recorded due to a lack of funding. “There are not many opportunities to just stop everything and dedicate all this time and money into an endeavor of this nature.”
Nor is this album “[some] kind of niche Chilean thing that you have no connection to, because that’s just not the case,” says Rossi.
Of the five decades of music on this album, Rossi says the modern pieces are considered more traditional in a Western sense — more invested in tonality and beautiful melody rather than placing an extreme emphasis on intellectual composition, and that lends itself to the discovery of meaning here in the real and present world.
Cortez and Díaz are the youngest composers on the recording, and both incredibly connected to the landscape and nature in the creation of their pieces. The younger generations “care about the land we live on and how it’s being affected,” says Rossi, “and I think we think about the issues we’re facing here and now and try to solve them.” In her opinion, this is the rediscovery of harmony and melody, things that were left behind by the modernists.
Rafael Díaz’s ¿Habrá alguien que en sus manos sostenga este caer? (Will There Be Someone Whose Hands Can Sustain This Falling?), for solo viola, opens the album. At the beginning of it, I feel like I’m falling indeed — gently, slowly, and my feet eventually touch the ground. Expertly played, the music guides you through the listening experience, one minute passing by into the next without noticing. According to the notes, “Taking inspiration from ritual prayers of the Pewenche people of the central Andean region, the work embodies the pantheistic ethos of their way of life in which the natural world and the deity are fused.”
David Cortés’ Tololo is a musical homage to the Coquimbo Region, where he grew up. If you do a Google search, you’ll see that the area is full of observatories you can visit to view the astronomical wonders of the night sky — and the music reflects that. As I listen, I transcend the telescopes and lenses, and I’m walking through the cosmos watching stars explode into supernova around me.
Really listening to music requires a person to unplug from the world around them, because how much can you really appreciate something if it’s on in the background? In the end, Rossi hopes people will give the album a chance, and approach it with an open mind — if someone were to take five minutes out of their day to sit with the music, that would mean the world to her.
The album is worth more than five minutes, that’s for sure. I can feel the emotion and love behind each piece, and I can feel the culture. Mobili brings me to a world I have never been to, and takes me around, showing me something new. That’s what this album is — something new. And it is worthy of attention.
Large Stage Live! reviews Georgina Rossi's recording "Mobili"
The Viola Revolution
Jokes about violas and viola players are legion in the musical world, as much so as jokes about altos, and for the same reasons -- perennially buried in the middle of the harmony under a wave of violins or sopranos, and frequently consigned to the third of the chord. Rarely does a viola get a chance to shine as a leading or solo instrument.
But now comes a startling new recording, Mobili, from Georgina Isabel Rossi (viola) and Silvie Cheng (piano) which is guaranteed to make you sit up and listen with newly attentive ears.
It's not just the relative rarity of a recital CD featuring the viola at front and centre, but also the rarity (to North American ears) of the programme -- an anthology of music by 20th century and 21st century composers mainly from Chile.
None of these composers have previously come to my attention, nor -- I suspect -- to the attention of most music lovers outside of their Chilean homeland. Apart from one piece, all the works on this album are receiving their debut recorded performances. And that is -- on both counts -- definitely a situation due for redress.
The album opens with two works by Rafael Díaz (b. 1962). The first, ¿Habrá alguien en sus manos sostenga este caer? ("Will there be someone whose hands can sustain this falling?"), composed in 2009, is a visionary, almost otherworldly rhapsody for solo amplified viola. That quasi-extra-terrestrial atmosphere belies the traditional prayer music of the Pewenche aboriginal peoples of the Andes, which (together with birdsong figures) lies at the root of this intriguing composition.
The second work from Díaz, equally remarkable, is Al fondo de mi lejanía se asoma tu casa ("In the Depths of My Distance Your House Emerges"), written in 2013, which evokes a remote Chilean landscape through which the composer walked to school as a child. The music captures the haunting, impersonal air of the vast open spaces, and the piano now joins the viola in gentle trills which again evoke birdsong.
Next up is an early Fantasía, op. 15 (1962) for viola and piano by Carlos Botto Vallarino (1923-2004). Botto's music was influenced by the European modernism of the mid-twentieth century, in particular the work of Luigi Dallapiccola, with whom he studied. In this work, the slower sections often conceal the harmonic disjunction between viola and piano by resorting to different registers which place the sounds of the two instruments on different planes. The faster passages emphasize the jagged contours of the viola part against quiet but firm piano chords.
Federico Heinlein (1912-1999) contributes a Dúo, Op. 15, for viola and piano, written in 1985. The title page of the work refers to Dylan Thomas with the quotation, "Do not go gentle." This music evinces nothing of rage against the dying of the light, but there is disquiet in plenty with the strange twists and turns of harmony, combining quiet dynamics with the most vigorous harmonic disruption. The work ends with an incomplete phrase like a quizzical question mark.
With the Tololo of David Cortés (written in 2011), we arrive in perhaps my least-favourite corner of contemporary composition -- the neighbourhood where a composer must produce detailed, even pedantic programme notes, to make clear what he or she was doing and how it ought to be received and appreciated by the listener. I have long believed that the more a creative artist must explain in words what is being done, the less successful the created piece is in its own terms. This, for me, is a principle which applies equally whether we speak of music, of dance, of theatre, or of the visual arts. Call me old-fashioned, and perhaps I am, but I regard copious programme notes as -- at best -- a crutch.
The work which Cortés (b. 1985) has produced here consists of numerous piquant gestures, lacking a firm structural basis to hold them together. The composer himself, by the way, has referred to his musical elements as "gestural." The sounds are intriguing, to be sure, but here was the one place where I felt that the composer had worn out his welcome before the composition ended.
The anchor work of the entire programme, Mobili, Op. 63 by Juan Orrego-Salas (1919-2019), was composed in 1967. It's an 18-minute suite of four movements, which bear the evocative titles Flessibile, Discontinuo, Ricorrente, and Perpetuo. Flessibile often uses the viola and piano independently, with each instrument taking its turn to present the material. Discontinuo presents a kind of scherzo with piano and viola darting hither and yon, with occasional tart explosions from one or the other highlighting the essentially quiet textures. Ricorrente presents a slow, meditative, even ponderous duet for the two instruments which suggest an examination of issues larger than mere worldly concerns. The final Perpetuo, as its title indicates, is a fast-moving stream of continuous melody, with numerous lightning-fast shifts of metre adding considerable rhythmic complexity. The movement, and the suite, end on three emphatic chords.
The album ends with a bonus track which is something of a cuckoo in the nest: an arrangement of El Sampredrino (1968) by Argentinian composer Carlos Guastavino (1912-2000). In contrast with the rest of the music, this is a setting of a lyrical melody. Guastavino was renowned above all as a composer of songs, and his output fuses nineteenth-centuy romanticism with a strong Latin-American sensibility. This song exemplifies his style.
Throughout this hour-long recital, violist Rossi and pianist Cheng present the most intriguing and sensitive textures, especially in repertoire which is predominantly quiet rather than loud and emphatic. Rossi plays with clear, unforced tone across the entire dynamic and tonal range of her instrument, creating fascinating variety of sound in a programme which might -- in other hands -- end up being too much of the same thing. Cheng creates a diverse, subtly varied array of sounds and textures on the piano, again avoiding any suspicion of routine.
This partnership of artists serves the music very well indeed, drawing us into the different sound worlds of these diverse composers and presenting a fascinating cross-section of contemporary compositon in Chile. While it's challenging listening, this album is also rewarding and has many moments that will well repay the listener's attention.
The album, catalogue # fcr268, is available online from New Focus Recordings.
TransCentury Media reviews Jerilyn Jorgensen and Cullan Bryant's "The Complete Beethoven Sonatas"
The extent to which historically informed performance has moved into the mainstream is nowhere clearer than in these exceptional readings of Beethoven’s 10 sonatas for violin and piano – which feature Jerilyn Jorgensen playing a 1797 Andrea Carolus Leeb violin using multiple period bows, and Cullan Bryant performing on five different fortepianos of Beethoven’s time that, collectively, sound about as different as it is possible for superficially similar instruments to sound. This Albany Records four-CD set is nothing short of revelatory, not only because of the excellence of the interpretations – and they are excellent – but also because it so seamlessly brings a 21st-century audience into the sound world of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, without in any way compromising the effectiveness of the music. Indeed, one of the elements most worthy of celebration here is that these sonatas are more impressive when heard on appropriate instruments than when performed, as they almost invariably are, on modern ones.
For quite some time after historic-performance practices became a serious element of music around 50 years ago, there was a certain academic quality about many of the readings: they often tended to be on the stiff side, as if somehow the more straitlaced era in which the music was written (especially Baroque music) needed to be reflected in a certain level of care and caution in reproducing what composers wrote. The emotional abandon associated with Romantic and post-Romantic music just seemed inappropriate for the Baroque and Classical eras. But gradually, musicians came to realize that there is no dearth of emotional involvement in pre-Romantic music, which is every bit as expressive as later works – but written for instruments designed to bring forth the emotional content in ways quite different from those of more-modern instruments. Mozart’s horn concertos, for example, are thrilling and amusing in turn, far more so on the natural horn for which they were written than on the much more even-sounding valved horn of today: the sound quality of a run changes during the note sequence, and the sonic environment of the higher notes in Mozart’s time is quite different from that in the lower notes. This is also the case when it comes to keyboard instruments. Mozart and Beethoven wrote for five-to-six-octave-spanning fortepianos with completely different pedal arrangements from those on modern instruments, and with different internal structure, construction materials, key action, and size (hence, sound production). These composers’ music sounds marvelous on modern instruments, but it simply does not sound as the composers intended it to sound – and now that top-notch modern players are thoroughly comfortable with fortepianos, now that violinists know how to handle instruments with different neck sets, differently arched bodies, and a variety of bow designs, it is finally possible to enter the sound world (and thus the emotional world) into which the composers intended to invite listeners.
This world is very different from the one typically associated with the Beethoven violin-and-piano sonatas. Many of the sonatas favor the piano, with the violin taking on more of an obbligato role, but the instrumental balance when the correct instruments are used shows the differentiation between them much more clearly, and leads to a more-even sound for the sonatas even when the piano part is dominant. The three earliest sonatas (Op. 12), which tend to get short shrift from most performers, here sound like works intended for skilled amateurs (which is how Beethoven designed them), but ones that would be quite a stretch for many amateur players using the intended instruments, whose tonal coloration is quite different from that of their more-modern descendants. The A minor sonata, Op. 23, gains considerable heft when heard in this recording, with a level of emotional involvement deepened by the evenness of tone of the violin vs. the differing tonal environments heard from the fortepiano in its different registers and pedaling. The paired F major sonata, Op. 24, known as Frühlingsonate and more popular than the A minor, here complements Op. 23 instead of eclipsing it: the two works do sound like a pair, emphasizing different emotions and moods in a highly complementary way.
The three sonatas of Op. 30 are even fuller of revelatory moments in these readings. No. 1 in A, the least known, turns out to have some distinctive auditory elements in its comparatively straightforward opening movement, and some very clever contrasting of sound, not just rhythm and tempo, in the variations that make up its finale. No. 2 in C minor is better balanced and less dramatically stormy as Jorgensen and Bryant perform it than in readings using the full sonic capabilities of modern violins and pianos, while the exceptional jocularity of No. 3 in G comes through to far better effect here – and far more directness of expression – than it usually does. The Jorgensen/Bryant readings of these three sonatas are impressively eloquent. And the original-instrument approach also serves beautifully in Beethoven’s two last and by far best-known violin sonatas. No. 9 in A, the “Kreutzer” (which Rodolphe Kreutzer never played and appears to have disdained), speaks here with poise, elegance and emotional balance that fully justify the work’s exceptional length of 40-plus minutes. The very opening, with the unaccompanied violin playing double, triple, even quadruple stops in A and the fortepiano strangely responding in C and then D minor, is exceptionally effective in setting the scene for a work that defies expectations again and again, as Beethoven uses the sonic capabilities of the violin and fortepiano to emphasize and de-emphasize structural elements with tremendous skill. To cite just one example, when the composer pushes the violin to its highest range in the second movement, listeners really hear the difference of sound quality, not just tessitura. This is an exceptional performance of an exceptional sonata. And the 10th and final work, whose style was specifically adapted by Beethoven to suit the tastes of the French school of violin playing exemplified by Pierre Rode, sounds exceptionally different from the “Kreutzer,” not only because Beethoven’s compositional style had evolved between 1803 and 1812 but also because the basic sonorities of violin and fortepiano had not changed significantly in that time period – leaving it up to the composer to find new forms of expressiveness within the capabilities of the instruments available to him. The serenity and overall gentleness of this sonata come through with complete clarity in this performance, with the performers’ nuanced sensitivity to the sound of their instruments producing a level of expressive clarity that is simply unavailable when the work is heard on modern instruments. Every reading in this first-rate set is insightful, carefully planned, emotionally satisfying, and true to both the letter and the spirit of Beethoven’s compositional process. These are the Beethoven violin-and-piano sonatas as the composer intended them to be heard, as they deserve to be heard, and as they can now – both “at last” and “again” – be heard to their best advantage and greatest level of communicative expressivity.
Cinemusical reviews Edward Smaldone's CD "Once and Again"
Composer Edward Smaldone (b. 1956) explores a number of chamber music expressions in this new collection from New Focus. From song cycles (Cantare di Amore; Letters From Home) to wind solos (Duke/Monk) and duets (Double Duo) to a concluding string Sinfonia that reveal the composer’s style and approaches in works written between 1986-2009.
The first work on the album is the song cycle Cantare di Amore (2009) and represents Smaldone’s most recent work. The texts are borrowed from the fourth and sixth book of Madrigals by Monteverdi. There are three settings, the first opening with an almost Asian-sounding inflection from the flute and harp. The voice and flute tend to interweave and feed off one another with the harp providing flourishes to add harmonic signposts. There are sometimes subtle shifts to more traditional harmony, though these are hints that quickly dissipate. At the center is a darker love song exploring contemporary effects for the accompanying instruments and a freer rhythmic feel. The final song has more of these free-flowing soprano lines. The piece is a bit reminiscent of Dallapiccola (perhaps it is just the way the instruments are applied and the florid vocal writing). The performance is quite exquisite. The second song cycle is based on some letters the composer discovered in his home (hence the title, Letters from Home 2000/2007/2014). The actual letters are interspersed with the composer’s own texts to add context to the material. Here it is Susan Narucki’s performance that entrances the listener.
The song cycles are separated by a Double Duo (1987/2006) that pits two woodwind instruments (flute and clarinet) against two string instruments (violin and cello). This earlier composition, here in a revised form, Smaldone cites as being influenced by George Perle. It expresses that economy of material with opening ideas being the primary pitch and motivic ideas that form the basis of the tightly-constructed 8-minute work. There is still a sense of improvisational approaches that allow each instrument to come to the foreground briefly. An outward-reaching gesture helps further move things along as more angular, and jagged outlines add an additional intensity. More careful listening helps discern that these ideas are placed within a sonata form. The more rhythmic material opens the work with a slower, harmonically ambiguous, second idea providing contrast. A development section further unpacks these ideas before a somewhat interesting recapitulation where these two ideas occur simultaneously. The penultimate track is a two-movement work, originally for flute, that is performed on clarinet. Duke/Monk (2011) reveals another of Smaldone’s “influences”, Duke Ellington and Thelonius Monk. The musical material is derived form a work of each of these classic jazz musicians and composers. The new transcription was made for its soloist here, Charles Niedich. It piano allows Smaldone to stretch and manipulate jazz harmonies while the soloist has a more improvisational feel exploring the melodic lines of the quotations.
The final work here is an early piece for strings adapted from the composer’s 1986 second string quartet. The Sinfonia (2010) features a beautiful viola opening with extended harmonic punctuations before shifting into a dancing scherzo. The work encapsulates the composer’s exploration of small cells of material and repeated pitch constructions. After a more reflective opening, the dance-like rhythms of Smaldone’s interests also align.
The music here is especially marked by some beautiful lyric writing, though couched often in more astringent harmony. It is almost as if sometimes a line will follow a traditional harmonic arc but the accompaniment pulls into closer intervallic constructions towards dissonance. That can be quite fascinating to hear and Smaldone is quite fortunate to have secured such fine performances of these pieces.
Take Effect reviews composer Edward Smaldone's album "Once and Again"
Once And Again
New Focus, 2020
8/10
A collection of chamber music from the always imaginative mind of Edward Smaldone, Once And Again recruits classical and modernist influences as soprano vocalists and top notch chamber players all contribute their respective talents across 5 compositions.
The album starts with the soprano, flute and harp of “Cantare di Amore”, where the 3 movements bring lush musicianship, dreamy melodies and plenty of rhythm from Tony Arnold, Helen O’Connor and June Han, and ‘‘Double Duo” follows with flute, clarinet, violin and cello interacting in a groove friendly setting where each instrument is highlighted splendidly.
In the middle, “Letters From Home” benefits greatly from Susan Narucki’s healthy pipes where dramatic keys and versatile flute complement the vivid storytelling, while “Sinfonia” exits the listen heavy on the strings as jazz ideas and dance rhythms populate the agile, orchestral climate.
A captivating effort that embodies the timeless spirit of not only chamber sounds but classical, orchestral and operatic sensibilities, too, Smaldone and company make the most of every second on this elegant and precise experience that you’ll want to revisit again and again.
Cinemusical reviews Jeri Jorgensen's "The Complete Beethoven Sonatas"
Beethoven: Complete Sonatas for Violin and PianoJerilyn Jorgensen, violin. Cullan Bryant, piano.
Albany Records TROY 1825-28
Disc One Total Time: 58:52
Disc Two Total Time: 46:11
Disc Three Total Time: 68:47
Disc Four Total Time: 67:09
Recording: (*)***/****
Performance: (*)***/****
The violin sonatas of Beethoven tend to be among the lesser known chamber pieces of the composers, with the quartets and piano sonatas often overshadowing these equally important works. Among them, the ninth (“Kreutzer”) is perhaps the more familiar of the batch of ten sonatas. That makes the present release an interesting opportunity for those less familiar with these works to explore them but also provides a unique take with its focus on using period instruments. The recording uses historic pianos found in the Frederick Collection in Ashburnham, MA. The instruments themselves were selected based on their connection to the period. Five different instruments are employed for the recording including one that was part of the Esterhazy estate and which may have been one of the last piano’s whose sound Beethoven heard before his deafness took hold. Two of these are from around 1830. Interestingly, sometimes one can hear echoes of the harpsichord, especially in the lower registers, or even a lute-like sound quality at times. Ms. Jorgensen is playing an Andrea Carolus Violin, from Vienna, 1797. The instrument has a slightly different construction, an earlier style neck set and a flatter arching to lend it a more powerful sound than other instruments of the time. In addition, Jorgensen has chosen a variety of historical bows. All of these are detailed in the extensive notes including informative essays for the pianos (by E. Michael Frederick) and the violin and bows (by Stefan Hersh). The sonatas are organized chronologically across the four discs. Most of the sonatas adhere to the traditional three-movement structure and also the common movement organization (though here too there are some surprises). But, unlike those of Haydn and Mozart, Beethoven begins to move the violin away from a duo role to one of prominence, something perhaps lost on modern ears.
This can be heard already in the Opus 12 set of 1797, dedicated to Antonio Salieri. Already these “Sonatas for pianoforte and violin” make more demands upon the soloist who cannot be a passing amateur. The first sonata, in D Major, is notable for its theme and variations central movement (which features some rather odd bursts from the piano), moving away from the ternary slow movement. From the very opening of the movement the violin takes on its more expressive role while the piano provides the forward motion and energy. The second sonata is also a bit unusual in that thematically it appears to be a bit more obtuse in the opening movement where we get Beethoven exploring smaller parcels of musical material. The slow movement more than makes up for this with a nice melancholy melody in the parallel minor. A humorous rondo wraps this up. The final sonata moves us away from the lighter wit of the central work to one of more heroic grandeur. Here the piano seems to take on a more prominent role with the violin feeling more like an obbligato partner. It features one of Beethoven’s very gorgeous adagios and an equally fun rondo that returns to the exploration of segments of a theme. The performances here are all fine, though sometimes the rapid passage sections at cadences is a bit of a blur (it feels more like an instrument rather than a technique issue). The crispness of Bryant’s playing is well-aided by these instruments which can be sometimes a bit dampened and less bright than a modern piano. That makes these a bit warm as one’s ear grows accustomed to the sound.
For Beethoven, three years can be an eternity in development and the two sonatas from 1800 (Op. 23 and 24) are from a very creative period. Both are dedicated to Moritz Johann Christian Graf vin Fries and the fifth, with its later appellation “Spring”, has become the more popular of the violin sonatas. That said, we can see Beethoven continuing to play with expectations, often the purview of minor key works (this one is in “a minor”). From the opening we are in an unusual 6/8-meter choice and the harmonic shift to e-minor instead of E-major is also quite innovative for a second key arrival point. The sonata-allegro form also uses repeats of both halves of the work—in some respects a throwback to the simpler binary forms. Here both the exposition and the entire development (which has its own theme!) and recapitulation are repeated. A telling dying away at the end of the movement comes as an equally unusual dramatic touch. For contrast, we get a light-hearted scherzoso with interplay between the violin and piano (a nice contrapuntal section) and a later nice lyrical contrasting theme. The third movement returns us to the depths of the more somber opening key. Troubled energy moves things forward but all ends in despair as both instruments descend into their own depths. The more familiar fifth sonata in F Major is interesting for its shift to a four-movement form (though the penultimate scherzo breezes by in a minute). Things are a bit more carefree here with less conflict. The second movement features a truly gorgeous lyrical quality often the focus of the piano sonatas. After the shock of the quick-paced minuetto/scherzo (a reminder at the delicious glee and wit of such musical jokes), we head into a solid rondo, one of the more lyrical of the sonatas. One can begin to sense in this work a new shift in Beethoven’s style further away from the Classicism of the era into something more personal. In the fourth sonata, it is quite a mark to hear the emotional shifts handled so beautifully here. The central movement really is a quite excellent performance with plenty of musical wit captured by both performers. It is like the one ray of sunshine only to be dispelled in the final movement. The c. 1795 keyboard used for the recording is perfectly matched to the nuances needed. There is hefty competition here for the “Spring” sonata, but it works well within this survey of the complete works even if listeners may have a personal interpretation. A fine case though is made for their approach here all the same.
Disc three brings us a parallel set of three sonatas from the early part of 1802, Op. 30, dedicated to Tsar Alexander of Russia. Each exhibits a different side of Beethoven, from a more Classical approach in the first, to a more intense second, and a delightfully upbeat third. The sixth sonata, in A Major, is perhaps the least familiar of these works. It bears a slight connection to the later “Kreutzer” sonata with an idea for the final movement sketched out, but left to that later work. Instead the movement is a fine set of theme and variations. There is also a further elevation of the violin line with both instruments now sharing and interacting with thematic material. One can here this early on in the opening movement where the stage is set. The ternary central slow movement is a moment of simple beauty. In some respects, it may be that this sonata is a reflective look back on where Beethoven had been. The seventh sonata is the only other one in a minor key, a very stormy c-minor. Here Beethoven shifts to a four-movement structure adding a further weight to the work. To further highlight its somewhat experimental nature, Beethoven eschews repeating the exposition and balances this with a more extensive coda. There is a little martial idea as well in this movement in the heroic key of Eb Major. The second movement provides a relaxed interlude with a dance-like feel. Intriguing structural exploration occurs here as well with a varied return to the opening material and a dramatic coda. Wit and quirkiness abound in the fascinating scherzo which has some canonical writing in the trio section, further finding ways to balance the equality of both instrument’s contribution. From a murky rumble, the finale moves us into a more intense, emotional exploration that never abandons its tonic minor focus even at the end. The eighth sonata returns us to a happier time with its G- major mode further highlighting the joy and humor of the work. The opening helps set this laid back and gentle tone. The central minuet is filled with plenty of humorous sforzandi. The finale rondo seems rather innocent, but Beethoven plays some wonderful little jokes as it moves especially into the coda where a rather unusual theme return in a more remote key provides a moment of surprise. Often called “the charmer” of the set of sonatas, this is indeed makes for a fitting conclusion to this set of three. In fact, disc three brings us a chance to then also hear the way both performers here must shift emotionally to handle the twists and turns of the dramatic undercurrent of the music. There can be some moments of hesitation in the thornier parts of the musical discourse, but here both musicians acquit themselves quite well. It is then further interesting that each of these recordings were recorded in different years. That is not as noticeable though in the overall sound. There is s fine sense of comfortability here that comes with both musicians having a strong sense of the music and its performance approaches. That is the strength of this quarter of the overall set—at least it becomes most apparent in the requirements of these three sonatas.
The final two sonatas bring us to the end of this fine survey beginning with perhaps Beethoven’s most famous violin sonata, the “Kreutzer”, Op. 47. Though there is no indication that he ever performed it, the work was written for Rodolphe Kreutzer in 1803. The subtitle of the A Major sonata provides a further window into Beethoven’s thoughts about the type of piece this is as it is both a blend of concertante and concerto. At 40 minutes playing time, it is the longest of the sonatas, and further illustrates its weightier implications. The first movement features a variety of advanced technique using double and triple stops. It also features a slow introduction (borrowing from a similar approach more common in symphonies and quartets). The piano enters in a rather unusual key area and pushes the harmony into even stranger directions before finally landing in a-minor. The work’s somewhat “fantasia” opening gives way to an intense presto. Overall, the movement is among the most virtuosic and demanding of the sonatas. At the center is the longest movement of any of the sonatas. Here is a theme and variations that Beethoven has been slowly preparing for with its 54-bar theme subjected to four variations. Virtuoso technique for both violin and piano is required here too and the range of the violin is further expanded as the movement progresses. The exciting energy returns to cap an exhilarating tarantella. The final sonata, Op. 96 in G Major (1812) was dedicated to Beethoven’s patron and student, Archduke Rudolph. The composer worked as well with the violinist Pierre Rode (1774-1830)—a student of Viotti—whose own sensibility likely impacted some of the compositional choices for the work. The opening movement has that more serene wistfulness melding folkish material and melodic inventiveness that feels a bit nostalgic. It is the latter which is part of the gorgeous slow movement. As it dies away, we move immediately into a scherzo with nods towards the landler. Folkish qualities also inhabit the theme and variation finale, where we find the composer exploring the deconstruction of themes into compact motives.
The album was recorded across several years at the Ashburnham Community Church in Massachusetts. There is a bit more reverb and slight echo here in the open sound of the acoustic space (this seems to be more an issue in the recordings made at the beginning of the project in 2016, by the 2018 recordings this is less noticeable). Perhaps this makes for a bit of an adjustment for the occasional rapid decay that happens with the earlier pianos. It should be noted though that one becomes accustomed to this spatial element early on and it is not a distraction by any means as the set progresses.
Some may recognize Ms. Jorgensen from her recordings of Arthur Foote and Charles Martin Loeffler when she was a member of the Da Vinci Quartet. Over the last couple of decades, she, along with Bryant, have performed widely exploring historic instruments and practice and are featured performers for the 2021 conference of the Historical Keyboard Society of North America. The performances here are all solid and allow a more historical perspective to rehear these important works. The expressiveness of Jorgensen’s playing is quite engaging. Bryant’s pianistic technique is also well-matched to explore these instruments with a sense of familiarity that makes these natural. It can take a bit of getting used to with these period keyboards, but it is quite striking how they are so different in often quite slight ways. They bring their own sense of character to the music itself. One gets a sense that the careful choices here help equally bring out aspects of the music that may be lost in a more contemporary performance. Beethoven fans will likely find much to fascinate them as they compare their own favorite interpreters with these performances. As such, this release will be an interesting addition to Beethoven audiophiles who are perhaps looking for a fresh approach to this music.
Take Effect reviews The Complete Beethoven Sonatas
LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN
October 19, 2020
Complete Sonatas For Piano & Violin On Historic Instruments
Albany, 2020
9/10
Listen to Complete Sonatas For Piano & Violin On Historic Instruments
Performed by violinist Jerilyn Jorgensen and pianist Cullen Bryant, the pair approached this project with as much authenticity as possible, where original instruments from the Frederick Collection are used to build these sonatas from scratch with much attention to detail.
Disc 1 starts with the keys and strings interacting in playful yet sublime ways on the dazzling “Sonata No. 1 In D Major, Op 12/1”, and this meticulousness carries over to the warm piano and graceful violin of the reflective “Sonata No. 2 In A Major Op, 12/1”.
The middle discs offer us the emotive spirit and dreamy climate of “Sonata No. 5 In F Major, Op. 24”, while “Sonata No. 7 In C Minor, Op 30/2” moves swiftly, playfully and with no shortage of dynamic interplay between the esteemed musicians.
The last disc saves some of the best for last, where “Sonata No. 10 In G Minor, Op. 96” moves both firmly and cautiously, as keys sometimes pound and other times dance, and the violin conveys both gloriousness and introspection in its precise capacity.
Bryant uses 5 pianos across this lengthy affair, all of which have a connection to Beethoven, and Jorgensen plays the Andrea Carolus Leeb violin that dates back to 1797 and was built in Vienna. A more powerful violin than its modern counterpart, the nuances of these instruments, combined with the duo’s unparalleled skill, helps make these reworkings nothing short of spellbinding.
CD HotList reviews The Complete Beethoven Sonatas
“Jerilyn Jorgensen and Cullan Bryant provide insightful interpretations of all of Beethoven’s sonatas for piano and violin, using instruments that were built at the same time the compositions were written (and, mostly, in the same city): the turn of the 19th century. The liner notes include detailed information about the instruments, and while the quality of the performances is more than enough to recommend this set on its own, the information about the instruments used will be of particular interest to libraries supporting academic instruction in period performance. The recording suffers just a bit, in my view, from microphone placement — I wish we could hear the details of the violin’s tone more intimately.”
Insider Interview with composer Edward Smaldone
The composer Edward Smaldone is featured on two new albums; "Once and Again" on New Focus Recordings (released August 15, 2020; FCR258) and "Double Portrait" on Ablaze Recordings (released June 19, 2020; AR00053). In this Insider Interview we spoke to Mr. Smaldone about these CDs.
Your musical inspirations range far and wide, from jazz, to contemporary classical, to rock, and beyond. When writing a piece do you tend to think of one certain source, or does each work contain a multitude of inspirations throughout?
I feel that my musical voice is the sum total of all the musical experiences I have had. My experience as a performer, a singer, a guitar player, a pianist, a conductor all feed into the palette of sounds I bring to my composition. I also have experienced a very broad array of styles throughout my musical life listening and studying and analyzing scores of every description. Much of this can be reduced to musical values that translate beyond the stylistic limitations of a particular piece. For example, I have noticed how Beethoven can build musical momentum through aspects of rhythm, dynamics, register, orchestration and motive, combining each in ways that drive the music forward, taking the audience on a visceral ride over the course of several minutes of music. But I have also noticed exactly these qualities in a free-wheeling instrument jam by the Allman Brothers, or a brilliantly structured improvisation by Paul Desmond, or Oscar Peterson, or countless others. As a composer, I respond to these elements as a listener, and strive to imitate these aspects without sounding at all like any of the musicians mentioned. What I try to do is isolate the elements of the music that contribute to the audience experience of change and progression as the music moves forward. In this way, the “influences” of various styles or pieces does not involve the superficial repetition of the particular sound of the influence, but incorporates some part of the musical experience: quickly moving harmony, static harmony, driving rhythm, a-rhythmic stasis, florid melody, simple melody, contrapuntal density, simple texture, etc. And, always, these elements have to serve some sort of emotional goal that can be communicated. These are all the experiences that inform the sounds I have in my ear as I wrestle with expressing something with the instrumental means of whatever piece I’m working on.
On your album Once and Again you’ve come back to old works that you’ve continued to tweak throughout the years. How do you know when a piece you're working on is truly “done”?
In a sense, no piece of music is ever “done” because each performance will bring new details and new connections. Each time someone listens to the same recording, it is a new experience, because each new hearing brings the experience of one more hearing to the table. So, we really never do step into the same stream twice. The “tweaking” I typically do with all of my pieces stems from the fact that the piece is not really the score, but the performance. It is usually after I hear the performance that I see and hear the form and shape come to life, and notice ways that a (usually very small) nip or tuck can make all the difference. In a sense I’m like a tailor, who measures with precision, then sews, then hangs the garment on the client, and only then truly sees where the shape needs adjustment to come into the clearest focus.
The line-up of musicians included in Once and Again is an impressive group of A-list chamber musicians. How did you get to know them?
A long time ago someone said to me “remember, you are always networking.” I have been fortunate to have a long career making music of all kinds, and encountering musicians of all kinds. I have always also valued the personal aspect of our craft. My violinist is not just a violinist, but he is a person who plays the violin. Often, I find the most sympathetic musicians are those skilled performers who have a personality with which I can relate. I feel that my professional relationships with the musicians I have worked with extends to personal relationships in which we value each other as people as well as performer/composer. On the new CD, all of the performers (with just a few exceptions) are people I have known a long time as colleagues at the Aaron Copland School of Music, where we all teach. In most cases, they are also performers who have previously played my music and even recorded it. I am very fortunate to have these musicians in my network.
Two notable exceptions to this were the singers Tony Arnold and Susan Narucki. They are both singers I have heard and admired for their outstanding work, especially with new music. I was talking with a friend and simply said out loud “Gee, I wish I could get someone like Tony Arnold/Susan Narucki to record this piece.” My friend said, “why don’t you just ask them?”
Like a nervous kid at an 8th grade dance, I got up the nerve simply write to each of them and send some music, inviting them to participate in this recording. To my joyful surprise, they each agreed, and now I have two more friends in the stable of wonderful performers who have performed and recorded my music.
As Double Portrait is, by title, a portrait of you as a composer, how do the pieces represent the full range of your work? If you had unlimited space on the album, what else would you have included?
What is interesting about the Double Portrait CD is that the project was initiated as a vehicle for the All of the Above Ensemble. This is a “Pierrot Ensemble plus Percussion” group of young outstanding musicians who all studied at the Cincinnati College Conservatory. I sent them a raft of pieces that use their instrumentation, and they chose these four works. Curiously, ALL of the pieces they chose are among those that already have other recordings, and none of them are my most recent works. The pieces were composed between 1987 – 1996. As a group of pieces, I think they paint a portrait of my work as an emerging composer. There is a kind of bravado to most of this music that seeks to make a bold statement of a composer trying to make a mark. Perhaps there is a connection between the young composer (in his 30s at the time) and the young performers who are at a similar juncture in their careers. It only just occurs to me now, but these performers are approximately the age I was when I composed these pieces. Their energy on these recordings is well-matched to the energy of the music.
Regarding the second question, don’t ever suggest to a composer that he has “unlimited” anything. I think the limits of the package we have is a useful portrait of a particular “moment” in the life of a composer, reflected in the particular “moment” of these performers.
Classical Voice North Carolina reviews Georgina Rossi's CD "Mobili"
New Recording Features Composers from Chile: Mobili
October 15, 2020 - Raleigh, NC:
Mobili: Music for Viola and Piano from Chile. Georgina Isabel Rossi, viola; Silvie Cheng, piano; New Focus Recordings: FCR268; Duration 69:02; Available through Classical Music Recordings
Georgina Isabel Rossi (viola) and Silvie Cheng (piano) present an album of world premiere recordings featuring Chilean composers Carlos Botto (1923-2004); David Cortéz (b.1985); Rafael Díaz (b.1962); Federico Heinlein (1912-99); and Juan Orrego-Salas) (1919-2019). From the stunning cover art and well-written liner notes, crafted by Rossi, to the music within, this is a treasure-trove for anyone who loves the deep, rich sound of the viola.
Rossi enjoys a career as soloist, performing on stages in North and South America. Born in Santiago, Chile, Rossi began her musical studies with her mother, Penelope Knuth. At age sixteen she was accepted at the Interlochen Arts Academy in Michigan before continuing her viola study in New York. She holds a Master of Music from the Juilliard School and the Bachelor of Music from the Manhattan School of Music. She is a member of the Hartford Symphony Orchestra. This is her debut album.
Highly acclaimed pianist Silvie Cheng performs on the world stage and has recorded extensively. She also collaborates with her brother, Bryan Cheng (The Cheng2 Duo). She is a teaching-artist at the Manhattan School of Music's Distance Learning and for the Bridge Arts Ensemble in New York City.
The music includes works by two living composers along with three beloved composers born during the early 20th century. This collection, so beautifully assembled by Rossi, is not in search of a national style. Each composer speaks with a unique voice; yet all five share a love of Chile and the natural world.
The recording begins with two pieces by Díaz, composer and ethnomusicologist. "¿Habrá alguien que sus manos sostenga esta caer?" ("Will There Be Someone Whose Hands Can Sustain This Falling?" (2009), for amplified viola and the only piece for solo viola, makes for a riveting start. Rossi's bold yet refined extended technique illuminates the composer's almost cinematic use of melodies he collected from indigenous people of the Andes Mountains. Díaz counts "Al fondo de mi lejanía se asoma tu casa" ("In the Depths of My Distance Your House Emerges" (2013) as his Op.1 composition, referring to a childhood memory, walking alone to school across a pampa in Patagonia. Applying a pastoral motivic device (M6); he created a tune we can all remember. And accompanied with the piano's watery set of ostinatos, it provides a lovely contrast that reflects the magnificent and diverse geography of Chile.
"Fantasia," Op. 15, for viola and piano (1962), by Botto, did not break new ground but rather synthesized trends of the mid-20th century. He spun colorful lines into conversations between the two instruments; creating expressions through textural density; and he used long pauses that keep the listeners' attention. Botto is remembered for his teaching and academic contributions at the National Conservatory in Santiago.
Heinlein was born in Berlin, raised in Buenos Aires, and became a citizen of Chile, where he spent his career as a writer and composer. His 1985 composition, "Dúo: Do Not Go Gentle," refers to Dylan Thomas' poetry; it's edgy yet beautiful. Cheng's strong playing coupled with Rossi's lush tone summons the emotion of the text.
Originally penned for viola and orchestra, "Tololo" (2011) was premiered by Penelope Knuth and the Orquesta de Cámara de Chile. Imagining images through a telescope at the great observatory, Cortés' work can be described by timbre, texture, pitch, amplitude, and duration; the features of post-modern music. This arrangement, by Miguel Farías, is splendid, but I hope that Rossi will perform this with orchestra in the near future; and I would like to be there for the occasion.
The last composition is Juan Orrego-Salas' Mobili, Op. 63. The only work for viola by the composer, who is also an architect, stands like a towering skyscraper among the others. Rossi writes, "....the impeccable designs of his 1967 Mobili are gleaming in their precision, with melodies that emerge like light through intricate latticework." Deservedly, the album is named and dedicated to his memory. It is an exquisite closing to a remarkable collection.
Rossi plays "El Sampedrino" a song by a romantic Argentinian composer, Carlos Guastavino (1912-2000) (arr. Kim Kashkashian, Robert Levin). A sweet melody, it feels like a sad farewell kiss.
Berkshire Fine Arts features Victoria Bond's recent works
Composer Victoria Bond in Recent Works
Pianist Paul Barnes and Violist Martha Mooke Perform
Victoria Bond brings a distinctive, rich ear to her musical composition in many forms. A recent commission provided a chance to collaborate with Paul Barnes, a go-to pianist for both Bond and Philip Glass. Bond's Simaron Kremata is based on a Greek chant and opens with a five note melody which repeats. Two-four note chords are separated by a whole tone.
No need to read this, because it is crystal clear as you listen to Barnes articulate the phrase. Decoration takes several forms, some slow and yearning; others, torrential yet lovely arpeggios. The music slips in and out of modes which lead to a final lofting of the Jewish prayer for ‘dew,’ the Tal. Tal has an uncanny resemblance to the Greek chant which started the piece.
Barnes is a daring performer. His singular notes are familiar in the Greek mode and enrich it at the end with with the dew tip to a Jewish mode. At the piano, Barnes brings out the ancient melody and also rips delicately, yes that is possible, in luscious melodic lines. Simplicity and complexity are lofted in arresting moments, often succeeding one another.
The work was performed to acclaim in Chicago and Nebraska. Barnes’ performance can be heard as part of a concert given recently at the Leid Center for the Performing Arts in Lincoln. The Lied offers to lead us and they do.
Bond's Buzz for electric viola and pre-recorded insect songs is featured on a newly released album by violist Martha Mooke. The album also includes contributions from Tony Levin, Pauline Oliveros, and David Rothenberg.
Buzz dives into new territory, inspired by the time Bond spends in the country. There, sounds of the woods and fields call to her. Biologist Rex Cocroft shared a recording of insects in song, playing on plants to speak with one another. This recording inspired Bond to collaborate with Mooke on electric viola. Bond says, "I found these songs so expressive that I decided to compose a suite of five duets, pairing the songs with Martha Mooke's electric viola...Martha has at her disposal a huge palette of sounds...which blend in a natural way with those of the insects." Listen here.
Communication always suggests communicator and the person or group to whom a message is being sent. With Bond, this connection forms the core of her sound. Simaron Kremata has the feeling of the chant, its modes coming from various cultures. The soothing and suggestive quality of the message shines.
In Buzz, we feel both nature and a human response through an electric screen. Bond's operas respond to women in the world of music and politics, and to literature like Gulliver’s Travels which molds words and indelible images into melody. Bond is an extraordinary artist, always responsding to her world in notes that spiral out to us, the audience.
In the spring of 2021, Bond will put on her annual Cutting Edge Concert Series at Symphony Space, live in New York. The Art of the Trombone, and Immigrant Dreams featuring Philip Glass and Bond, with Paul Barnes, will be featured. Remembering adventuresome concerts past and anticipating new music live is a thrill.
Meet-the-Artist interview with composer Edward Smaldone
Established in 2012 by writer and blogger Frances Wilson (‘The Cross-Eyed Pianist’), Meet the Artist is a series of interviews in which musicians, conductors and composers discuss aspects of their creative lives, including inspirations, influences, repertoire, performance, recording, significant teachers and more. The interviews offer revealing insights into the musician’s working life and a fascinating glimpse “beyond the notes”.
Who or what were the most significant influences on your musical life and career as a composer?
That would have to be some combination of the Beatles, the Allman Brothers, Blood Sweat and Tears, Beethoven, Stravinsky, Schoenberg, Sessions, Carter, Weinberg and Perle. And somewhere along the way Heinrich Schenker (through studies with Carl Schachter) had a powerful impact on the way I hear music (both my own and that of others.) A very powerful influence on my music has also been performance. I have been a professional guitarist, piano player (not a pianist) and singer for 50 years. I also did a lot of choral singing as a student that had a strong impact on my thinking. Everything should sing, rhythm and “feel” are incredibly important features of compelling music.
What have been the greatest challenges/frustrations of your career so far?
Time. There never seems to be enough, and the composer requires so much alone time. I have been extraordinarily fortunate in my musical life, with outstanding mentors, wonderful colleagues of both composers and performers. Trying to find the balance in life of artistic pursuit and the everyday is a challenge. That said, the joys of my family are well worth the time and have a powerful impact on my work as well.
What are the special challenges/pleasures of working on a commissioned piece?
It is a joy to write a commissioned piece, because there is a clear light at the end of the tunnel, shining on a player or ensemble waiting for my score. The challenge is meeting a deadline, but the pleasure of working toward a specific goal with a specific performance is exhilarating.
What are the special challenges/pleasures of working with particular musicians, singers, ensembles or orchestras?
This follows directly on the previous question. Knowing that I am writing for a particular player also inspires me because each player has a specific set of skills and strengths that can be exploited. It is a particular pleasure when we can both shine through the medium of a new piece.
Of which works are you most proud?
I’m proud of them all, the way a parent is proud of each child. Like members of a family, each piece has its own personality. Each piece (hopefully) traces back to the common ground of my imagination, but also expresses itself on its own terms. I would say that I am typically most proud of whatever I have just completed. The act of completion in and of itself marks a moment in the life of a new work, similar to the birth of a new child. Those are special moments. It is also a special pleasure when an older piece (like an older child) “resurfaces” and stands on its own two feet without compromise or excuses.
How would you characterise your compositional language?
My compositional “language” involves a rich chromatic palette. These are just the kinds of sonorities I am drawn to. In working with them, I try very hard to create a musical fabric that captures both the immediacy of a distinctive gesture, and then puts that gesture on a journey that includes elements of tension and resolve; motion and arrival; and a clear sense of large scale architecture (yes, I know these are very traditional features!). My lifelong love and work in areas of improvised music (especially jazz) also brings an element of spontaneity and improvisation to much of my musical materials.
How do you work?
I work best with a deadline. I’m an early adopter of Finale, so I tend to notate my scores as I am composing. I usually start with improvisations and pencil and paper sketches, but very quickly putting thing directly into the computer is the fastest way to manipulate my musical ideas. (And, when I have a deadline, I’m usually composing from 6 AM until at least 10, daily.)
As a musician, what is your definition of success?
I would measure my success by the steady creation, performance and recording of my works. I am exceedingly fortunate to have an academic position (at the Aaron Copland School of Music at Queens College, CUNY), so I don’t have to rely on commissions and performances for income. This provides an enviable level of artistic freedom. I feel the most “successful” when I have finished a piece, and it gets a great performance, and it is slated for a recording. It is the satisfaction that work is strong that makes me feel successful. I am especially encouraged by multiple performances and even multiple recordings of several works. It is exciting to attend the 10th performance of something. I am also very gratified by the work of other composers and the performers who I get to work with. The shared camaraderie of musicians, both composers and performers, has been a gift.
What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians?
Set the bar high and the rest will follow. There are no short cuts. The most potent combination is talent, ambition, and hard work. You need all three. Also, treat every musician and every musical situation with respect: be prepared (actually, be over prepared) and don’t be a jerk. People hate jerks.
What do you feel needs to be done to grow classical music audiences/listeners?
I think that audiences are very open, as long as they are not patronized, as long as the performances are really excellent, and especially when they can make a personal connection with the artists (both the composers and the performers.) People often don’t want to take a chance with music that is unfamiliar, but if the circumstances are right, new music (of any style) can provide a rewarding experience for the audience. Really terrific performances are crucial.
Beyond this, the personal connection between the people on stage and the people in the audience has a powerful impact on the experience. I remember many “Meet the Composer” grants that included a requirement that the composer talk to the audience. I witnessed quite a number of completely dreadful “composer talks.” The composer would struggle to say something meaningful, and end up being incoherent, or vague, or obtuse. And yet, without fail, the mere fact that there was a living composer making an attempt to communicate, was usually enough to bring the audience a little closer, and make them a little more sympathetic to the effort the composer was making with his music. The personal connection made all the difference.
Where would you like to be in 10 years’ time?
In 10 years’ time I’d like to be overseeing lots of performances of the works in my catalogue, along with a steady flow of new performances, pieces, and recordings.
What is your idea of perfect happiness?
I’m not so sure it exists. Like a good piece of music, life needs tension and struggle. Maybe happiness is a good balance of good times and tough times.
What is your most treasured possession?
My family. They are not actually a possession, but the joy that comes from the complex interaction of the people in my family, over a long period of time is truly a treasure. I’ve been married for 40 years and have three grown up children and an extended family of dozens of cousins and other relatives.
Records International reviews Jaap Nico Hamburger Piano Concerto
This is a powerful, intense work, largely tonal and thoroughly approachable yet unusual in a number of respects. Hamburger graduated almost simultaneously from medical school and music conservatory, and voluntarily gave up a burgeoning career as concert pianist for decades of distinguished work as a cardiologist. He rebuilt his musical career after moving to Canada from the Netherlands in 2000 as part of his medical career, and has written a considerable amount of music since. He is clearly very conscious of his Jewish heritage, and his first two symphonies, a recording of which we may apparently look forward later this year, treat themes of Holocaust survival and war. This concerto presents something of a conundrum, in that it too plainly has vivid programmatic intent, but presumably by design this seems not to be documented - certainly not in the largely content-free booklet that comes with this disc. In the first movement, the composer’s main influences seem to be Feinberg and Mahler. The piece begins quietly and mournfully, but tension rises with a Mahlerian brass entry. Suddenly a terrifyingly mechanistic passage explodes out of nowhere and disappears just as quickly, with a return to the opening material and the piano's first, sombre solo entry. The second movement begins as an energetic, sarcastic scherzo, very indebted to Shostakovich and Prokofiev, and here the soloist is to the fore from the start. About a third of the way through, sirens attempt to drown out the music which gamely continues, followed by an explosive climax. What follows is a sustained lament, punctuated by shattered shards of sound from the piano and a cello. The side drum ushers in a cadenza, which could have wandered in from one of Feinberg's early sonatas. The orchestra joins in, and quickly the scherzando character of the movement is restored. The ending is snatched off in mid phrase. The last movement, Molto Adagio, is tragic and pained, spare of texture, haunted by a ghostly child's song in violin harmonics, even the piano torn between gentle reflection and sudden spasms of violence; here again one thinks of Shostakovich, or perhaps even more, of Weinberg. The concerto fades out in haunting, fragile, unresolved resignation. The disc contains only this one 22 minute work, and is priced accordingly. Assaff Weisman (piano), Orchestra Métropolitain de Montréal; Vincent de Kort.
Classical Music Sentinel reviews Jaap Nico Hamburger Piano Concerto
JAAP NICO HAMBURGER - Piano Concerto - Assaff Weisman (Piano) - Orchestre Métropolitain de Montréal - Vincent de Kort (Conductor) - 615499526230 - Released: August 2020 - Leaf Music LM238
I believe a short introduction to the composer is in order here. Born in Amsterdam, Jaap Nico Hamburger has lived in Canada since August 2000. He studied piano with Youri Egorov amongst others, and graduated from the Royal Sweelinck Conservatorium of Music, Amsterdam, The Netherlands, with a soloist degree in piano. He is the current Composer in Residence with Mécénat Musica in Montréal, Canadian Music Centre Associate Composer, and a former Director of City Opera Vancouver.
His writing, in this work anyway, is very atmospheric and infiltrates your mind in a rather surreptitious fashion. There's a touch of schizophrenia to the music as it moves forward through the use of dissimilar personalities. For example, the slow build-up that opens the first movement is full of Gustav Mahler overtones (notice the horns), but suddenly at the halfway point of this rather short movement, the piano steps in but is overwhelmed by violent and cacophonous outbursts from the orchestra, only to regress to its former atmospheric state. Now the hyperactive second movement on the other hand, sounds like a genetic mutation between Sergei Prokofiev and Galina Ustvolskaya, with a hint of Edgar Varèse (notice the sirens). In contrast to the two Adagio movements that bookend it, this middle movement is highly active and boisterous, and applies technical and expressive pressure on the pianist, all of which is handled with aplomb by Assaff Weisman. The final and longest movement at just over nine minutes, with its anfractuous melodic line from start to finish, is where the music leaves an impression that lingers long after audition.
At first glance this review may seem negative, but only in the sense that this work's individual parts don't always jive with each other. But after repeated auditions, it seems the overall picture wouldn't be complete without these puzzle pieces, and the whole is more than the sum of its parts. It's a rather short disc at just over 22 minutes but you will notice that the price reflects this. Those of you looking to hear something new that isn't completely out in left field should appreciate the music of Jaap Nico Hamburger.
Yael Weiss interviewed on WWFM's "A Tempo"
A Tempo: Pianist's Beethoven Tribute Features Commissions Bridging Conflict, Hope and Peace
By RACHEL KATZ • OCT 1, 2020
As pianist Yael Weiss looked ahead to Beethoven's 250th Anniversary, she asked composers from conflict-torn countries around the world to create works inspired by his piano sonatas and tied together by a motif from the Dona nobis Pacem from his Missa Solemnis. The composers hailed from countries inlcuding Ghana, Iran, and Jordan, to the Philippines, Syria, and Venezuela, and Weiss began touring with her project, called "32 Bright Clouds," in 2018.
When Covid-19 forced the postponement and cancellation of many Beethoven anniversary events, Weiss moved her performances online, and this Saturday (10/3 at 7 pm) on A Tempo, host Rachel Katz will speak with Weiss about the inspiration for the project, the composers and their stories, and audience responses to the performances.
Her latest concert, presented by the Baruch Performing Arts Center, is now streaming on-demand through Oct. 18. A live discussion with Weiss will follow a live stream on Oct. 6.
Listen to the interview at this link.
Insider Interview with pianist Yael Weiss
On October 1 - 18, Baruch Performing Arts Center presents an exclusive performance by the pianist Yael Weiss of music by Beethoven and new works from "32 Bright Clouds". Ms. Weiss commissioned composers from 32 countries of conflict, all inspired by Beethoven's music. Her program at Baruch PAC features a world premiere by Bongani Ndodana-Breen (South Africa), and New York premieres by Saed Haddad (Jordan), Aslıhan Keçebaşoğlu (Turkey) and Adina Izarra (Venezuela). More info online at Baruch.cuny.edu. In this Insider Interview we spoke to Ms. Weiss about her project, “32 Bright Clouds”.
Why did you decide to launch the worldwide commissioning project 32 Bright Clouds?
Music is a wonderful language for bringing people together and the “32 Bright Clouds” project aims to use the power of music to express our unity, and the global aspiration for peace. The project was born a couple of years ago when I felt that I needed to go beyond the usual concert performances and create an opportunity to share important stories and to bring ideas from around the world to the concert stage. At a time when we are surrounded by an atmosphere of fear, anger, and words and attitudes that create divisiveness, I thought of using my own medium of expression, which is music, to transform that space of alienation and fear into a space where we are curious about the other, where we find excitement and joy in discovering both our own unique qualities and our innate similarities.
How did you come up with the name?
The name “Bright Clouds” is a poetic expression from an old Zen Buddhist text. I like the combination of light and dark colors. And I think of the new pieces as shining a bright light on what may be darker situations and conflicts. The expression “Bright Clouds” is understood to mean “the entire world covered with brightness of wisdom”, an image I find inspiring as I work on the project.
How did you choose the composers and countries you wanted to include in 32 Bright Clouds?
This is one of the parts of the project that I find most fascinating. There are countries of conflict that are very important for me to include in the project, and sometimes those are places that we normally have very little contact with. I usually look to find at least one common link somewhere. Sometimes a single link gradually leads me to the type of musicians and composers I’m looking for. Of course, there are endless research tools available online today and these often can help point me in the right direction. But not everything can be done electronically, and on one occasion I ended up taking a long plane trip half way across the world to meet and listen to musicians in a remote location.
What, to you, connects these composers from across the globe to Beethoven’s music? How are they inspired by or how do they incorporate a Beethoven’s piano sonata in their work?
Beethoven himself lived during a troubled time of transition and manifested in his own life and work a deep belief in liberty and equality, and especially in the creative power of the independent artist to free our minds. Each composer explores their own connection with these ideals, as reflected in their particular upbringing and culture. Many of the new works include dedications to current events in the composers’ own countries, just as we know Beethoven himself dedicated some of his works to specific events and ideas of the time.
Each new work offers a fascinating and creative way of joining music that reflects the composer’s own culture and compositional style together with a response to one of Beethoven’s 32 Piano Sonatas. There are endless ways in which this connection is expressed in the different works. Just as Beethoven’s 32 Piano Sonatas are 32 unique works, each exploring new compositional and emotional realms, so does each of the new works for the “32 Bright Clouds” project provide a new contribution to the piano repertoire. The range and variety among the new works is startling, and yet they are all connected by their relationships to Beethoven.
What about the “peace motif” from Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis is so important that you want to make the linchpin of this project?
Each one of the new works carries with it a message of peace. This is achieved by using a single group of notes, a Peace motif, that every composer from around the world includes or responds to in their new composition. This peace motif is taken from Beethoven’s masterpiece, the Missa Solemnis. Specifically, this is from the “Dona Nobis Pacem” section of the work. Most importantly, I chose these notes because Beethoven wrote in the score above them a kind of private message for the performer, he wrote “A call for inner and outer peace” and that is the message of the entire 32 Bright Clouds project.
How does each of them express their concern about the difficulties faced by their countries and countrymen? Could you provide a few examples?
South African composer Bongani Ndodana-Breen’s new work is dedicated to Uyinene Mrwetyana and all victims of femicide in South Africa. As the composer said, gender based violence is one of Africa’s unspoken cultural pandemics.According to official police statistics), a woman is murdered every three hours in the country. To compound this horror, South Africa has one of the highest rates of sexual assault in the world. Uyinene Mrwetyana, the 19 year old university student to whose memory this piano work is dedicated, was one such tragic statistic. The work integrates the “peace motif” with traditional African songs of the Xhosa women. It is titled “Isiko: An African Ritual for Ancestral Intercession”, a ritual used to ask for guidance at such times of suffering and despair.
Jordanian composer Saed takes the “peace motif” from Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis, especially the last three notes of it which are where Beethoven uses the words Pacem, Pacem, or Peace, Peace, and he avoids the middle note. This is his way of expressing his feeling that current peace agreements are empty, and so to musically express this emptiness he took out that particular note.
Venezuelan composer Adina Izarra’s piece is called “Arietta for the 150”. It is dedicated to the 150 young men and women who were killed during the 2017 peace demonstrations in Caracas. The work is intimately connected with the second movement, the Arietta, from Beethoven’s final Sonata Op.111. It is the expression of calm and peace in this movement that the composer brings forward in her own work, portraying a dream of a peaceful Venezuela, as well as joyful sections that include her response to the “peace motif” from Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis.