Khatia Buniatishvili, Schubert, Selected Piano Music

There is of course more than one way to play a composer, a piece of music. And of course there can be in different epochs different trends in performance practice. So when it comes to Franz Schubert and his wonderful piano music there may be a movement away from a sort of Rachmaninoff-ian bluster, the emotive slam-bang of perhaps an exageratedly passionate gushing forte to a more reflective, poetic emphasis on the spellbinding pianissimos and then so a more heightened contrast between loud and soft. I was attracted to the late Jorge Demus' Schubert performances early-on for this quality. And now I think I may have found the ultimate Schubertian to my way of thinking. That is in the person of Khatia Buniatishvili, a most lovely voice on the piano, as I hear gladly on her new album simply entitled Schubert (Sony Classics B07NKZ33JB).

I took a cursory glance on the internet to find that Khatia is already well along in her rise to acclamation. And if there is any doubt as to her poetic soul and rare insight into Schubert listen to these lines from her comments in the liners. "There is a certain femininity and sensitivity in Schubert's works, as well as an ability to wait and endure. This femininity and heightened sensitivity are destined to die. Yet this suicide is to be found at such a profound depth, stifled, with no outward expression of the tragedy of loss..." It would seem she has lived inside this music to a point of great understanding?

All you have to do is listen to this album. Then you will very much hear it. You will know. She chose wisely, things that she seems to love greatly. We are treated to her performances of the "Piano Sonata in B-flat major D 960," the "4 Impromptus D 899" and the Liszt piano transcription of "Standchen 'Leise flehen meine Lieder.'"

The cascades of notes in the Impromptus, the soulful mystery of the quiet passages in the Sonata and the contrasting majesty of the forte passages, and the sheer beauty of the Leider, all alert us to a greatly superior artist, a true master of the Schubertian gesture, of the short but intense life in music, the voice that speaks so eloquently through Khatia Buniatishvili, a Maria Callas of the piano, someone who feels it all and can portray it for us so singularly as to be unforgettable in her impact, or at least so to me. There is a liquidity to her phrasing, a very subtle gradation of levels of touch that is marvelous to hear. Slow-fast soft-loud here-silent contrasts play ever so readily in the act of performance that we nearly hear him anew,  nearly.

This is an album I hope many will treasure in years to come. On the basis of it I am a convert to her magical spell, her sound and sensibility, her rare feel, at once sensual and deeply channeled through human volition. The syntax of her phrasing flows so fluidly, so naturally that she is the epitome of the "native Schubertian," a native of the music world that includes Schubert of course, I mean. A native of humanity, as must we be, all of us who are musically human, as much human as musical. There are passages that seem uncannily as if she is recollecting the music from deep inside memory. Other passages seem like a direct experience, a presence that is palpable and propelling us in real-time, if that makes any sense. It is hard to put into words but there are time frames of expression one might discern here happily, or at least that is a way to say it. It all comes out in terms of touch and a very subtle rubato that flows as we flow through life, perhaps.

This is an album for anyone who loves Schubert, who loves the piano played exceptionally well. It is one for the ages, as it would appear is Ms. Buniatishvili. I am glad for it. Hear this one. You might just be glad to be here to hear it. I am.

Hindemith, Complete Works for Violin & Piano, Kleine Sonata for Viola d'Amore & Piano, Roman Mints, Alexander Kobrin

If you did not live with the music for a while, you might think superficially that certain genres by certain composers were all the same. I mean for example Baroque chamber music of a certain configuration, by, say Bach, or for that matter Hindemith's Complete Works for Violin and Piano (Quartz 2132), which is in a very striking new performance set by Roman Mints on violin and Alexander Kobrin on piano, and includes also the Kleine Sonata for Viola d'Amore & Piano.

And it is perhaps telling that this aspect of Hindemith is in some ways comparable to Bach in certain chamber modes. Both set out not for novelty, for they know that they would work in a particular niche, something they long established in years before, or in other words it was not about upending the form they took as part of the expression they looked for. In this way the Modern element in Hindemith chamber modes was built up out of previous decisions`he had made about where he wanted to be. And so we hear chronologically the music he produced for the piano and violin or viola d'amore from 1918 through 1939, including sonatas in E Flat, D, E, and C, then also the "Kleine Sonate," the "Trauermusik," and the "Meditation from the Ballet 'Nobilissima Visone.'"

It is all intricately worked-out line and harmony, with quasi-contrapuntal ornate filigree lace fragility or burlap robust "there-ness" that Mints and Kobrin take to readily and spectacularly. The violinist talks in the liners about a special affinity he developed for Hindemith's Sonata in D, the sheet music which his mother found apparently in a used bookstore for Roman to play in the Soviet days, when Mints was first starting out. He took to it and it made an impression on him which was to remain some thirty years later when this complete oeuvre was recorded.

The affinity is apparent in the sincerity and concentrated drive Mints shows throughout and indeed, Kobrin too plays it all with a tempered passion that seems just right for the music, the all of it.

Is this music still too "advanced," too complex for audiences even today? Mints wonders this in the liners. That is true if it is true of virtually all works that are self-consciously "Modern" you might say. None of this music is a happy and glib romp into a humoresquely inane field of verdure, certainly. But then if you look for that you probably do not read this blogsite, right? In any event I would most certainly recommend this volume as an introduction and an affirmation to the importance of Paul Hindemith in chamber territory. There too is the works for viola as I covered some weeks ago, (type his name into the search box above for that) and then of course there are the whole series of other chamber works Hindemith wrote for diverse instruments, from tuba to heckelphone and beyond. Hear them too if you can.

This edition of the complete violin-piano works is masterfully done. The music is worth many hours of your time, if you want to explore some somewhat neglected fare from the Early Modern period. Listen.

Falla, La Vida Breve, BBC Philharmonic, Juanjo Mena

If you ask me Manuel De Falla (1876-1946) was one of the very greatest of 20th Century Spanish composers. Nobody could quite harness the Spanish tradition into Modern, buoyantly impressionistic terms like he could. After a near lifetime of listening to his music, including arrangements of excerpts from La Vida Breve (1904-05, REVISED 1907-13) I finally get a chance to sit down and listen in depth to the full opera in a very nice aural staging with Juanjo Mena and the BBC Philharmonic (CHANDOS 20032).

I must say after some concentrated listening that the full work in this version does not disappoint in the least. Mezzo-sopranos Nancy Fabiola Herrera and Cristina Faus, tenor Aquiles Machado, the chorus and the rest of the cast join with the orchestra for a very memorial performance, especially the second half where the music gets quite folklorically reminiscent in the Spanish tinge zone.

The entire opera sings. You get the full libretto in this edition and a performance that is as painstaking as it is jubilant. His orchestration is worthy of a listen in itself alone.  But truly nothing is lacking in either the parts or the performances of the cast either.

The liners tell of De Falla's move from Cadiz to Madrid at the turn of the century, his budding interest in the vocal arts, three unsuccessful attempts to work in Zarzuela, his discovery of Spanish Nationalist composer Felipe Pedrell and study with him in 1902-04, all leading to La Vida Breve, which took on its final form in 1913.

It is a highlight of DeFalla's compositional career and deserves to be more widely heard. This performance brings out all the magic. I do very much recommend it.

Rupert Boyd, The Guitar

What the guitar means to us in my own lifetime has blossomed forward into a kind of renaissance with Blues from B.B., ringing Beatles and the boldness of a Leo Brouwer, distinctive sounds from Wes Montgomery and so much else. Rupert Boyd knows all of that no doubt. He is a guitarist for today, a true voice and a phenomena one should not ignore. I've posted on his music here previously (see the index box above for that review) and I am happy that he returns front and center for an ambitious outing he entitles simply The Guitar (Sono Luminus 92211). And by that matter-of-fact designation he means to portend much, for the album in some ways gives us as expansive a view of the classical guitar for us today as we might get in one program. And where others might not succeed in encompassing such a breadth Maestro Boyd emerges triumphant, thanks to his flexible concentration and innate musicality.

The program in its own way encompasses a long span of time and a fair number of overarching style sets. It begins with two extraordinary Brazilian perennials by Antonio Carlos Jobim in some lovely arrangements for solo nylon string guitar in the presence of "Felicidade" and "Estrada Branca." Rupert swings the elaborate arrangement of "Felicidade" in the way it absolutely must be swung. The stirring performance of "Estrada Blanca" follows. Rupert allows the melody line to sweetly stand forth in ways that show a pronounced rhapsodic touch.

From there we go back to a seminal compositional voice for the guitar, Fernando Sor (1778-1839) and a stirring performance of his "Introduction and Variations on a Theme by Mozart." Rupert brings melody and accompaniment into a lively interplay that takes on a distinctness that is a treat to experience.

The Bach "Suite in E Major, BWV1006a" in guitar arrangement follows, with an intensity and flowing articulation rather exciting to hear.

Well I could go on with the blow-by-blow description of everything, but your own ears can find out the details for themselves. I should just add that Leo Brouwer's first ten "Estudios Sencillos" are played as well or better than I've ever heard and that is saying a lot. The concluding Beatles "Julia" gains a poignancy in Rupert's own nylon guitar arrangement that brings us full circle to the "popular" and in the process runs a fine gamut and shows Rupert Boyd's versatile savvy. Nothing here is superfluous or gratuitous.

Anyone who responds to the classical guitar legacy in its many variants will no doubt be quite happy to experience The Guitar in its diverse ebbs and flows. Bravo Boyd! If he is the future of classical guitar we are in good hands.

Ana Sokolovic, Sirenes

I never shy away from women composers, especially when they are from the Modern times we live in. So today there is Ana Sokolovic and her album Sirenes (ATMA Classique ACD2 2762). It consists of four works for the Ensemble contemporain de Montreal (ECM+) directed by Veronique Lacroix,  the Ensemble vocal Queen of Puddings Music Theatre under Dairine Ni Mheadhra, and soloists.

Ms. Sokolovic was born in 1968. which makes her younger than I am. I only mention it because it helps situate her in time. This is her second album of works according to the liners. Jeu des Portraits came in 2006 though I have not had the pleasure of hearing it. This new album addresses her chamber ensemble moods, including three devoted to the vocal arts and her recent Violin Concerto "Evta."

Andrea Tyrilec takes on the solo violin part on the concerto and does it full justice. It is a long and involved work of concentrated Contemporary heft, a kind of breakthrough tour de force, searing and abstractly tender in turn, filled with a wealth of detail and articulation in the harmonically advanced and colorful HighMod zone. There is a nice use of chromatic and timbral repetitions and sequencing  to express something about life and it works in its evolved context quite well. I am at times reminded of Mayazumi in this wise yet this is Sokolovic and the two are not synonymous, which is heartening.

The program begins with the title work "Sirenes" for the six woman vocalists from the Ensemble vocal Queen of Puddings Music Theatre. It is atmospheric, sound colorful Modern fare with a real feel for making full use of the vocal potential of this fine ensemble, whispering, full voice, etc.

Sokolov's "Tanzer Lieder" for soprano and small chamber group shows us Ms. Sokolov's gift for lieder writing. It is Modern in syntax and based nicely on Austrian poet Francisco Tanzer's Blatter collection. The music is expressive and well paced.

From there we move on to "Pesma" for mezzo-soprano and small chamber group. As with the Tanzer work there is carefully and very brightly situated elements working together in subtle ways to give us a refined zen of Modernism in the very sensitive laying out of it all. It is music I found myself appreciating the more effort I took to listen carefully. Perhaps that is the one lesson I never fail to note on these pages? One is not born to this music, so to speak. One must grow into it and much of the worthy music of our contemporary world.

After all is said and done we are left with the sheer musicality of Ana Sokolovic. It is lovely fare, convincingly performed. There is brilliance. We have contact, liftoff! Very happily recommended.

Grace Williams, Chamber Music, Madeleine Mitchell, London Chamber Ensemble

Not a month goes by lately when I do not benefit in my reviewing capacity by making a discovery. Today is such an instance as I report in on some very interesting Chamber Music (Naxos  8.571380) by Grace Williams (1906-1977) whose music I find most intriguing.

The album features a number of premiere recordings of chamber works, some six in all, played well by the London Chamber Ensemble under violinist/director Madeleine Mitchell. The jacket copy lauds Ms. Williams as Wales' most accomplished composer. She studied with Vaughan Williams and Egon Wellesz, attended the Royal College of Music, and left behind a distinguished body of works if this volume is any indication.

These compositions cover a wide span of time from 1930 through 1970. Yet they all occupy a certain well carved out niche that is tonal yet nicely wayward in a kind of Neo-Classical mode, an original one. The concluding three miniatures ("Romanza for Oboe and Clarinet," "Sarabande for Piano Left Hand" and "Rondo for Dancing for Two Violins and Optional Cello") fascinate. Yet the more substantial opening works are where one is most directly brought to a very satisfying realm--both ambitious and thoroughgoingly personal, inventive, original.

The "Violin Sonata" (1930, rev. 1938) has a kind of thorny, knotty complexity with a thickly double-stopped violin part that almost sounds fiddle-like in its direct intensity, though less so in its actual note choices. Ms. Mitchell carries the day on this fine work and I must say my appreciation for it all increases the more I hear it. This is Contemporary Modern music with a decidedly quirky edge and its own way of backward glancing, a near folkishness like Vaughan Williams could allude to, yet all in her own right.

The "Sextet for Oboe, Trumpet, Violin, Viola, Violincello and Pianoforte" (1931) and the "Suite for Nine Instruments" (1934) have nearly as weighty an impact in their lucid beyond-the-pale qualities. None of this music has the "orchestral but for the quantity of players" feel some composers of the era could be guilty of. No, this is music scaled and theme-built on the smaller chamber scale and so seems to feel quite comfortable in its own instrumentational skin, so to say.

It is a CD I am sure I will return to again and again. And it alerts me to want to hear what else Grace Williams produced in her lifetime, for she clearly had something to say musically. I recommend this one heartily.

Symphonic Dances, Copland, Appalachian Spring, Ravel, Daphnis et Chloe, Suite No. 2, Stravinsky, Firebird Suite (1919), David Bernard, Park Avenue Chamber Symphony

A creative and intelligent coupling of several works on a program can make sense to a theme or a season or both. Such creative juxtapositions can transform a particular offering into more than just a sum of repertoire choices. I feel that way about the latest CD from David Bernard and the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony. It is appropriately called Symphonic Dances (Recursive Classics 2061415).  What stands out to me is how it nicely programs three major works, each of which are Early Modern-Impressionist classics, breakthrough orchestral works, all having some general mythological or otherwise storied relation to the budding natural world and so quite appropriate to mark spring (and summer).

It covers Aaron Copland's "Appalachian Spring Suite," Maurice Ravel's "Daphnis et Chloe Suite No. 2" and Igor Stravinsky's "Firebird Suite (1919)."  Each are from ballets, and each have orchestral depth and orchestrational brilliance.

Barnard and the Park Avenue Chamber Symphony give us very dynamic versions of each suite, with some of the loudest forte passages I can recall hearing on performances of these. The orchestral staging is very detailed as is essential to the music. These may not be the very best performances I have ever heard--of any of the three--but the competition understandably is quite stiff as each of them has been recorded in numerous versions. The Park Avenue outfit acquit themselves quite respectably nonetheless.

The "Firebird Suite" was on the first classical LP I owned and so it has a kind of foundational sound to me. Both "Appalachian" and "Daphnis" were part of my earliest listening as well, so they belong together in my mind. And as spring flourishes outside I naturally gravitate towards the music.

And as I said above, the choice of these three works in one program is rather brilliant. Each has an essential relation to the others, each has alternatingly wonderfully lyrical and in turn acutely rousing moments. If you for any reason are unfamiliar with the music you are missing out. They each are classics as a rhapsodic sort of  New Music, each revolutionarily lyrical in its day. And so it is hard to pass up this program.