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CD AND DVD REVIEWS
Tempo / Volume 66 / Issue 261 / July 2012, pp 76 - 90
DOI: 10.1017/S0040298212000290, Published online: 08 August 2012
Link to this article: /abstract_S0040298212000290
How to cite this article:
(2012). CD AND DVD REVIEWS. Tempo, 66, pp 76-90 doi:10.1017/S0040298212000290 Request Permissions : Click here
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cd and dvd reviews
van der aa:One. Barbara Hannigan (sop), Sheila Wiersum (mezzo), H L van Esteren, Mary Rose Arntzenius, Margaret van Berckel, Frankie van Weli (spkrs). Disquiet DVD DQM 03.
van der aa:Up-Close. Sol Gabetta (vlc), Vakil Eelman (actress), Amsterdam Sinfonietta. Disquiet DVD DQM 04. These two compositions by Michel van der Aa have striking similarities. One (2002) is a 40-minute ‘chamber opera for soprano and video’ whose theme is ‘a schizophrenic woman struggling with her environment’, while Up-Close for solo cello, string ensemble and film (2010) is also focused on obsessive behaviour and the interaction between a young woman and someone seeming to represent her older self. To this extent, both works can be seen as contributions to that monodramatic genre established in 1909 by Schoenberg’s Erwartung. And both are as representative of early 21st-centu-ry technological possibilities as Schoenberg’s was of then-new musical expressionism.
One uses electronic rather than acoustic sound to accompany the voices, and the princi-pal soprano is complemented not just by herself on film but by an older female singer and by four speaking performers, probably closer in age to the ‘older female singer’ than to the principal soprano. In this way what the central character refers to as ‘my myriad mind’ is not just a single split personal-ity – an incarc
erated mental patient in her thirties suffering and attempting to survive – but that character either looking back on her earlier self from old age or imagining as a thirty-something what institutionalized old age might be like.
With such subject-matter, a late-modernist ver-sion of Schoenberg’s high-modernist masterwork might well be on the cards, although van der Aa appears to have thought of his text and staging/ filming in terms of Beckettian nightmares rath-er than Strindbergian melodrama. Even a later model of dramatic derangement, Berio’s Recital, is steered well clear of in favour of something much more austere, more minimal(ist), seeking to keep music itself in check as potentially too dangerous to the drama’s pared-down routines. The vocal line is almost fanatically unmelodic, its repeated modal patterns intersecting with equally basic obsessional behaviour, both live and filmed, including much snapping of sticks. Those with enough historical imagination might find it attractive to link One’s style with the very earliest (pre-operatic) manifestations of sung drama, but text (except when spoken) is often swallowed up in sound, and the whole experience seems just too reductive and simplistic to justify the high claims made for the piece in the accompanying mate-rial. Barbara Hannigan is a formidably gifted and eminently watchable singer, but just as van der Aa himself has moved on since this ‘less is less’ exercise was completed in 2002, so she is best encountered in some of her other, less restricted, less mannered contemporary roles.
Coming eight years after One, Up-Close has more musical substance, and while the dramatic identity of what is only a 30-minute piece remains sketchy, the absence of words, and of an elec-tronic sound track, is probably an advantage. The main event in the action occurs when Sol Gabetta, the ‘live’ cellist, leaves the security of her position in front of the string ensemble to carry a standard lamp across the platform, and to coincide with the same process being completed by the (older) actress on film. Unlike the cellist, the actress projects distress and disorientation, transported as she is from an empty concert platform to a leaf-less forest and a deserted house where she appears to re-enact the behaviour of – my guess – a war-time secret agent transmitting a coded message. She is, perhaps, desperately seeking to recapture the certainties of her youth, and the vitality of the music during these scenes certainly does its best to point up the contrast between the sadness of senile obsessional behaviour and the blithe aspira-tions of a young woman playing a vital and heroic role in wartime.
The overall result is nevertheless little more than an outline of how such a complex and highly emotional subject might be effectively dramatized. Just as the music falls a little too readily into predictable pattern-making, so the drama fails to avoid a mix of pretentiousness and vagueness, not unlike that found in One. On the plus side, Gabetta is evidently at ease in her musi-cal and dramatic role, and this, together with the needle-sharp support provided by the Amsterdam Sinfonietta and the s
ilent eloquence of actress Vakil Eelman, might manage to persuade you that the ends more than justify the means.
Arnold Whittall
Tempo 66 (261) 76–90 © 2012 Cambridge University Press doi:10.1017/S0040298212000290 Printed in the United Kingdom
cd and dvd reviews77
claus-steffen mahnkopf: Pynchon Cycle: The
Tristero S ystem1; The Courier’s Tragedy2; W.A.S.T.E.3;
D.E.A.T.H.41Ensemble SurPlus, c. James Avery, 2Franklin
Cox (vlc), 3Peter Veale (ob), 3,4Experimentalstudio des
SWR (3Joachim Haas, 3Claus-Steffen Mahnhopf, sound
direction). NEOS 11036.
This CD is heralded by Neos as volume one of a
Mahnkopf edition. Like Toshio Hosokawa, Claus-
Steffen Mahnkopf (born 1962) is a student of Klaus
Huber – Mahnkopf also numbers Ferneyhough
amongst his teachers. The disc presents a cycle of
four works which together comprise the Pynchon
Cycle, a homage to one of the composer’s favourite
authors, Thomas Pynchon. Mahnkopf (who pro-
vides his own booklet notes) asserts that Pynchon
‘posits significatory relations on all sides while
simultaneously contravening them’, and hardly
surprisingly this technique describes Mahnkopf’s
music. He utilizes a soundworld that is ‘capable of
giving expression to the destructivity of today’s
society, especially that of the mega-metropolises’.
Because the Pynchon Cycle requires several acous-
tic spaces, a CD rendition can only ever present a
deconstructed shadow of the live event.
The first panel we hear, The Tristero S ystem
(2002), ‘offers sufficiently repellent post-urban
sonic material’, in the words of the composer.
There seem to be some elements of modern
jazz improvisation in the resultant soundscape;
certainly there are tendencies towards a musical
representation of chaos. The music is visceral, cul-
minating in battering percussion (9:15). Mahnkopf
regularly uses instrumental extremes and effects –
at 3:40, he appears to call for the brass instruments
to hit their mouthpieces with their hands? This
disembodied, fragmentary soundscape makes a
powerful impact; The Courier’s Tragedy (2001, in 5
acts with a prelude and postlude) provides a sort
of solo instrumental counterpart. I ts extreme
virtuosity, use of unapologetically ugly sounds
and at one point the obsessive repetition of a sin-
gle gesture require a superb player, and Franklin
Cox is certainly that. In the end the cello is ‘killed’
by the sonic events around him, to make way for
W.A.S.T.E. (‘We Await Silent Tristero’s Empire’,
2001/2, for oboe and electronics). This oboe piece
introduces a multiplicity of new sounds for the
instrument and again calls upon a hyper-virtuoso
for its performance. The interesting electronics,
complementary to the live solo oboe, add an extra
dimension. The ending is sudden, as if curtailed.
D.E.A.T.H. (Don’t Ever Antagonise The Horn)
is for tape only (8-track) and literally presents the
final decomposed state of the material resources
employed’. It is appropriately dark. On occasion
it sounds like there are muffled timpani rolls in the
background. Even the silvery electronic sounds
have their brightness dulled – this is more music
of the dank prison than of the angels.
Colin Clarke
雅马哈电动车
brian elias:The House That Jack Built1; A Talisman2;
Doubles3. 2Tim Mirfin (bass), BBC Symphony Orchestra,
c. 1Andrew Davis, 2Martyn Brabbins, 3Jirˇí Be˘lohlávek.
NMC D173.
Two dynamic full-scale orchestral statements
frame a mesmeric setting for bass-baritone and
small orchestra on a new NMC release devoted
to the music of Brian Elias. This composer has a
notably fastidious approach to his craft, resulting
in a modest but estimable catalogue of substance.
So it is especially gratifying to find no fewer than
three fine examples of Elias’s art making their CD
debuts.
Commissioned by the BBC, The House That Jack
Built (2001) is a one-movement piece in ternary
form for large orchestra of around 21 minutes’
duration. It was inspired, and energised, by the
children’s games and chants that often later
become part of the adult psyche. A more specific
influence was Iona and Peter Opie’s authoritative
book on infant rites and rhymes ‘The Law and
Language of Schoolchildren’. Although there is
no declared narrative, the obsessive rhythms and
ideas depict in musical terms the motley collec-
tion of taunts that echo indiscriminately around
playgrounds.
Some of these juvenile conventions take the
form of jeering catchphrases or catcalls and a uni-
versally familiar five-note example is quoted near
the beginning of The House That Jack Built – the
same ubiquitous mocking tune, incidentally, is ref-
erenced in the finale of Giles Swayne’s Orlando’s
Music for orchestra (1974) and the scherzo from
that composer’s Cello Sonata of 2005, both move-
ments being entitled ‘Child’s Play’. This crude jibe
permeates the exuberant, romping first section
of Elias’s work in a heady succession of fleeting
episodes featuring grotesque solos – notably for
squealing clarinet and growling contrabassoon,
massive tuttis and a virtuosic extended passage for
pizzicato strings. A change of mood and direction
is imposed by the unifying central episode, rooted
in the titular traditional nursery rhyme. Following
the additive rhythmic patterns of ‘This is the
house that Jack Built’, Elias takes a brief musical
phrase, appends another before it and then repeats
the phrase; another new phrase is added and the
tempo 78
previous two phrases are then repeated, and so on. This voraciously accumulative strategy leads eventually to an elongated statement featuring 12 different phrases. Mindful of the need for variety, Elias takes care to modify subtly the sonorities of the oft-repeated initial phrase.
Having come together for this decisive middle section, the players then return to the material of the opening section, but imbued with a new-found spirit of camaraderie, signified in the music by lighter scoring and brighter textures – the oboe solo which launches this final section is even marked dolce. Just as momentum starts to gather again, the music stops abruptly, as if the imaginary young protagonists have suddenly lost interest and decided to abandon their game.
Children’s entertainments and ceremonies have played a significant role in British music, notably in the stylized ritual of Birtwistle’s opera Punch and Judy (1967) and, most poignantly, in the street game rite
of death in John Tavener’s Celtic Requiem of 1969. In The House That Jack Built Brian Elias attempts to capture the manic energy and chaotic spontaneity of playground entertainment with a profusion of sharply defined ideas, pow-ered by driving cross-rhythms. It was premièred at the Barbican by Sir Andrew Davis and the BBC Symphony Orchestra on 22 March 2002 and the new NMC disc is launched by a BBC broadcast of that first performance, a consummate reading which rewards Elias’s meticulous writing with an aptly scrupulous attention to detail. In one of his most impressive forays into contemporary reper-toire, Davis leads his keenly responsive BBCSO players in a cogent articulation of Elias’s overarch-ing single span, whilst relishing each engaging divertissement along the way.
Commissioned by the Cheltenham Festival and first performed in 2004, A Talisman is a hyp-notic setting of Hebrew inscriptions on a silver amulet made in Kurdistan in the 19th century and handed down through the composer’s fam-ily. Representing the two sides of the amulet, the piece is divided into two main sections entitled RECTO and VERSO. The inscriptions are virtually all single words and names and hence the baritone soloist, who participates throughout the work’s 20 minutes with scarcely a break, has an essential-ly declamatory role, despite the more decorated, melismatic vocal line of the second part. Elias draws upon deeply sonorous forces, including bass clarinet, trombone, bass drum, tam-tam and dou-ble basses sounding an octave lower than written, contrasting these with piccolo and
harp harmon-ics both sounding an octave higher than written. His instrumentation is markedly restrained and subtle, as exemplified by an economical, poetic use of three tuned gongs. Since angels dominate the text, a key role is assigned to the trumpet, an instrument with biblical seraphic associations. This moving lamentation, inspired by an object of devotion and its moving engraved appeals for help, is a reminder of Elias’s gift for vocal set-tings – further evidence is supplied in a previous NMC release comprised of his Five Songs to Poems by Irina Rathushinskaya for mezzo-soprano and orchestra and Laments, for mezzo, semi-cho-rus and orchestra (NMC D064). Once again, the BBCSO players distinguish themselves, this time under Martyn Brabbins, in a spacious and focused studio recording from January 2011; their evoca-tive accompaniments create rich subtexts to the resonant tones of bass Tim Mirfin’s emotive reci-tations.
Doubles (2009) is a lavishly scored 28-minute composition for large forces, including triple woodwind, six horns, two harps and percussion requiring five players, written with the heady virtuosity of a concerto for orchestra. It is cast in one continuous movement divided into six clearly delineated sections of which the last three mirror the first three, as suggested by the title. This proc-ess of varied repetition is akin to recapitulation in symphonic structures and Elias impresses with his formal mastery as much as his accustomed bravura handling of the orchestra. Eloquent solos abound, particularly for
oboe and trum-pet, whilst a keening duet for alto flute and cor anglais in the third section and an extended pas-sage featuring four solo violins in the fourth are especially memorable inventions. In addition, the composer evinces a firm grasp of protean devel-opment as most of the material of this substantial opus derives from its opening pages. Doubles was commissioned by BBC Radio 3 for performance by the BBC Symphony Orchestra, who premièred it under Jirˇí Be˘lohlávek at the Barbican on 16 May 2009. This disc offers a later Radio 3 broadcast of the first performance, an authoritative interpre-tation that revels in Elias’s vibrant textures and rhythmic variety. It makes a satisfyingly affirma-tive conclusion to the programme.
All three orchestral pieces presented here con-tain several original gestures and effects. In both examples for full orchestra Elias is admirably fear-less in writing substantial tutti sections of (Robert) Simpsonian elemental power, a refreshingly trenchant alternative to the ascetically pointillist, chamber-like treatment of large forces favoured by so many of his contemporaries. A consequence of Elias’s often unbuttoned manner is that much of the detail in his intensely dramatic utterances is unlikely to register fully at a live performance and thus it is particularly good to have the oppor-
cd and dvd reviews79
tunity the recordings afford to hear every detail of these meticulously fashioned scores and, crucial-ly, a chance to experience them more than once. Thanks to NMC’s excellent production, the lis-tener is hardly aware of the different provenances of the three excellent performances. This is an important addition to the catalogue.
Paul Conway
john foulds: Cello Concerto in G major op. 171. lionel sainsbury: Cello Concerto op. 27².Raphael Wallfisch (vlc),¹Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, ²Royal Scottish National Orchestra c. Martin Yates. Dutton Epoch CDLX 7284.
John Foulds wrote no less than three concertos for cello: the first survives as a fragment (Lento e Scherzetto op. 12), first performed in Manchester in 1907; the second is the one on this CD, which Foulds numbered as Concerto No. 1; the third, op. 19, was an arrangement of a Concerto Grosso by Corelli which has been lost.
The op. 17 Concerto (1908) is a magnificent work and so well written for cello, as befitting a composer who was a cellist in the Hallé Orchestra and a friend of its leading cellist, the great Carl Fuchs, who was soloist in the concerto’s first per-formance in 1911. Yet after that première it was never played until
Raphael Wallfisch took it up for the BBC in 1987. The opening chord is seemingly a direct acknowledgement of the opening of Elgar’s First Symphony, a work that triumphantly her-alded a new era in British music. Thereafter there is a lovely lyrical theme of Bruchian calm which returns in various guises, an almost solemn pizzi-cato second subject and a not wholly convincing cadenza, all surrounded by wonderful Straussian climaxes. The second movement is truly beauti-ful and has the most wonderful nobilmente tune in the style of the later Keltic Lament (1911) while the third movement has an almost Brahmsian (like the last movement of his violin concerto) ebul-lience about it.
But there is hardly a hint at this stage of his modernist compositions of the 1920s for which Foulds has, at last, become better known. What we have here is an impassioned work which is well worth hearing, a work which finds Foulds in superb command of the orchestra (he was entirely self-taught). It is a late-Romantic work with vigor-ous exploration of what was stylistically available to him at the time – much was to change.
The Lionel Sainsbury (b.1958) work is no prey to the fashions of the late 20th century and, like his Violin Concerto op. 14 (now on CD) his Cello Concerto may seem old-fashioned to many. However, it displays a mastery of style and tech-nique that is wholly admirable. But more than this, it shows a composer with the vision and individuality to be different and not to follow the fleeting fashions and fad
s of present-day composi-tional concerns. Written in a style that owes a lot to Walton and Sibelius and to some extent French composers like Dutilleux, the piece achieves a homogenous expressiveness. The result is a pas-sionate and often intense concerto which works well and has no shortage of expressive contrasts or dynamic tuttis, with some wonderful solo cello cantilena passages. I felt that its occasional restrained languor, especially in the slow second movement, had something of the Mediterranean about it. By contrast the third movement is in an effervescent ‘I rish’ jig style, heavily syncopated, with contrasting pastoral allusions.
Both performances are excellent and powerful-ly committed. Special thanks must go the superb soloist Raphael Wallfisch for bringing these hid-den works so powerfully into the light, and to the conductor Martin Yates.
Raymond Head
gurlitt:Wozzeck. Musical tragedy in 18 scenes and an epilogue, op.16. Celina Lindsley (sop), Christiane Berggold (mezzo), Gabriele Schreckenbach (con), Robert Wörle (ten), Endrik Wottrich (ten), Roland Hermann (bar), Anton Scharinger (bar), R
I
AS Chamber Choir, Berlin Symphony Orchestra c. Gerd Albrecht. Crystal Classics N 67 081 (originally Capriccio C60052–1).
A native of Berlin, Manfred Gurlitt (1890–1972) was singularly unfortunate in his musical career. After studying composition under Humperdinck and conducting under Karl Muck, he assisted Muck at the Bayreuth Festival and held a couple of provincial opera posts before becoming principal conductor at the Bremen civic theatre. In 1920 he founded a local society to promote new and pre-classical music. In the wake of the 1926 première of his Wozzeck opera, Gurlitt returned to his native city, where he conducted for Berlin Radio and the Grammophon company. At a time when he was approaching his creative peak, he was condemned by the new Nazi regime as a ‘cultural Bolshevist’. In 1939 he emigrated to Japan, where he was well received. But even there, Nazi tentacles reached out to strip Gurlitt of his official positions. In the post-war period he set up his own touring