Comment: + Mihaela Ursuleasa (1978-2012)

I just learned of the unexpected and untimely death of the young Romanian pianist Mihaela Ursuleasa. Her recordings of the Ginastera sonata and Enescu's Third Violin Sonata (with Patricia Kopatchinskaja) are brimming with life and mystery and have given me a lot of pleasure. This rendering of Rachmaninov's Elegy in E flat minor (from Five Pieces Op. 3, R's first published piano work at age 19) captures her sensitive and passionate musicianship very well. May Mihaela rest in peace. She leaves behind a six year old daughter, Stefanie. 

Comment: Debate on Debussy

I've had a little discussion with Mark DeVoto, retired professor in musicology and author of 'Debussy and the Veil of Tonality', on the website of the Boston Musical Intelligencer. Also with HVC, who has sent me a short essay of his hand on Debussy, I've been exchanging ideas lately.

Comment: Venzago on Bruckner Fifth

Meanwhile I have been watching this clip again and again: Swiss conductor Mario Venzago talking about his recording of Bruckner's Fifth Symphony on the CPO label. His nrs 0, 1, 4 and 7 have already been issued to significant critical acclaim. Allegedly Venzago offers a very fresh take on these works. I'm planning to keep tabs on this cycle. I certainly love the dramatic flair (and the Swiss accent!) with which he talks about the music. It's been a long time since I've been submerged in Bruckner, but it's bound to happen again.

Comment: Bruno Monsaingeon's 'Mademoiselle'

In the wake of listening to Lili Boulanger's marvelous Du Fond de l'Abîme I turned to a DVD on Lili's famous sister Nadia. Of course I was aware of the fact that she had been one of the most famous pedagogues in the field of classical music but I didn't know much more than that. The film Mademoiselle is Bruno Monsaingeon's official opus 11, released back in 1977. It was shot from 1973 onwards on 16 mm lending the whole thing a rather quaint atmosphere. This is reinforced by the imposing figure of the aged mademoiselle, pushing 90 but still admirably active and sharp-witted. The movie has not been conceived as a biographical portrait, but tries to impart something of her idiosyncratic teaching style. As is well known, Boulanger taught Wednesday classes in her own quarters for decades to a crowd of budding performers and composers (Clifford Curzon, Aaron Copland, Astor Piazzolla, Roger Sessions and many others amongst them). She had a deep understanding of the handwork of ('classical', not dodecaphonic) composing but had given up on writing music herself since 1922. The sessions filmed by Monsaingeon are indeed fascinating. The material is too fragmentary to really get to the bottom of Boulanger's philosophy and approach, but I had a visceral response of 'yes, this is a teacher I might have liked a lot'. From what we can see she does not dwell on technical details but goes to the musical core. Directly and indirectly she stresses the importance of authenticity and 'being' as a composer/performer. Some of what she said reminded me of the lessons I received from photographer Lorenzo Castore. Writing down a chord or pushing the shutter release is maybe not that different. The movie features rather lengthy testimonials by Igor Markevitch (interesting) and Leonard Bernstein (not so interesting). There is a section in which she talks a lot about Stravinsky. Sadly not a word about Debussy. Another rather striking appearance is the very young pianist-composer Emile Naoumoff, who was Boulanger's last pupil. At the time the film was made he must have been 11 or 12. Amazing to see this prodigy's accomplishments at the keyboard and his youthful enthusiasm. Apparently he is now a professor at Indiana University. He leads a summer academy near Paris in the spirit of Nadia Boulanger. His personal online photo album contains some touching snaps from his time with his ageing teacher. Whilst I did not think the film to be a great accomplishment, it is interesting enough to invite me seek out the book that Monsaingeon compiled from his conversations with Nadia Boulanger.

Comment: A review of Myer Fredman's 'Maestro'

I just posted a review of Myer Fredman's Maestro, Conductor or Metro-Gnome? Reflections from the Rostrum. I gave it four stars, which is generous for this rather rambling collection of personal reminiscences and tidbits. Unfortunately, what ultimately makes a great conductor Fredman is not able to elucidate. I'll guess we'll never know.

Comment: A Year of Blogging

I've been maintaining this listening diary now for just over a year. It has certainly been an experience that has revolutionised my listening habits. I almost can't imagine anymore how I used to listen before I started to document my listening trajectory.

One of the very obvious benefits has been a considerable expansion of repertoire. I have discovered so many new things over the past year that I feel rejuvenated as a music lover. And I can see vast unexploited tracks of repertoire stretching out in front of me. Also I feel I have gained a much better, more differentiated view of 20th century music history, particularly of this important 1920-1960 time bracket during which so much was going on.

Another good thing has been the slowing down and the concomitant increase in quality of listening. Background listening has almost completely disappeared (I can remember the time when, blasphemously, I had music on in my office whilst working!). Listening, reflecting, looking things up and writing things down has become almost a meditative discipline. In addition it's just a matter of respect for the meaning and quality of the music making. I want to hang onto that.

A potential risk, I found, is an inclination to compartmentalise the musical experience too much. If I'm not careful I have the tendency to overplan and overrationalise. That is counterproductive. So I need to find a way to mix rigour and spontaneity (almost in a Debussyan way). I think I can do that. The whole Bartok chapter emerged almost accidentally from my unsuspecting approach to Kodaly. The Debussy trace I'm following now emerged simply from a De Falla piece that spilled over into a Debussy sonata. I think that these spontaneously emerging attractors are a good thing. Each of these create new lines which I can follow as long as I like. So now I have Bartok, string quartets, Spanish/Iberian music and Debussy as main listening tracks. New ones will be added and after a while some will whither.

What the listening diary has not done is to bring me closer to understanding the enigma of music. I agree it is very naive to think that we can 'solve' this riddle. But I am inclined to believe we can at least make some progress towards doing so. But the diary has rather produced the contrary: at no time music has appeared more bafflingly mysterious to me than it does today.

Comment - Auditing the hifi

Over the last couple of weeks I have been indulging in audiophile phantasising again. Truth of the matter is that I'm quite satisfied by what I'm hearing. But there is always a nagging doubt that significant improvement is possible at justifiable expense. Looking at my setup I am quite confident in the quality of my digital source. I think the Advanced Acoustic CD transport in combination with the Grace M902 DAC provides a very good quality input signal. The analogue source is another matter. The Michell Gyrodec is a solid basis, but I'm quite sure the Goldring Eroica MC element can be improved upon. Also the addition of an Orbe platter and an external power source are part of a clear upgrade path.

I have less confidence in the amplification stage. First there is the Promitheus Transformer Volume Control, which is in fact a passive preamp. It's a 350 euro 'sigar box', supposedly hand made in Malaysia. I bought it out of curiosity, but it has never left the setup ever since it replaced the Electrocompaniet ECM-5 preamp. Curiously enough it seems to perform well and to grow with subsequent improvements I have added to the setup. Nevertheless, the doubts come from the fact that this is a very cheap component, that the passive preamp concept is fairly controversial in itself (some people think it 'sucks the live out of the music') and that I have to live with the fact that I have very long (6 meter) interconnects to my power amps which sits uneasily with the passive concept. The big plus of a passive preamp is its transparancy and hence neutrality. It really doesn't colour the music.

The power amps are two Advance Acoustic M705 mono blocks that deliver 200 Watts at 8 Ohms. At less than 1.000 euros apiece they are not very expensive. I'm always wondering what they are really worth.

I am quite happy with the B&W 804s speakers but they are not the end of the line. At one point I'd like to buy something more substantial, with a little more oomph in the lower frequencies. The 802D would be a very nice 'rest of my lifetime' speaker but at 14.000 euro/pair this is very serious money. Not an investment I'm willing to contemplate right now.

I've upgraded my cablework over the last couple of years with serious Supra power cords, Supra interlinks, Link Velox speaker cable and Kimber Hero interconnects.

As this set has gradually grown into its present shape, I also wonder how coherent it is. Matching components is at least as important as having quality components to start with.

In addition to the amplification factor I am wondering about things like the quality of the net power, the placement of the components in the rack, the positioning of the speakers in the room, etc. How optimal is all of this? Are there tweaks that are able to bring audible improvement?

I have very little opportunity to compare notes with likeminded enthusiasts (I can count my audiophile friends on half a hand) and my reference framework of what is possible in the high end world is very limited. So, when I arrived on the website of a hifi-advisor/shop who indicated that he was willing to advise during home visits, I decided to take that opportunity and invite him in. My point was simply to ask a seasoned professional for a second opinion.

Today was the day. Audio Perfect's Peter Neirinck came by to have a listen and give some advice. He also brought some reference components to compare. I played him a few tracks of good recordings, both pop, chamber music, small ensemble and big orchestra. The verdict was very positive. He gave it a 9/10 calibrated against what is possible in the kind of price bracket I have been listening in and a 7,5/10 with 'high end ears' (where the sky is the limit in terms of budget). I thought that was a very good result. He admired the very clean, neutral, well-knit sound (in his opinion quite remarkable with the not so neutral B&W's), the set's responsiveness and the considerable depth of soundstage due to a very advantageous placement of the speakers with a huge, closed resonance box behind them. The power amps seemed to be more than adequate to drive the current-hungry speakers.

We then proceeded to compare with the Lyngdorf TDAI 2200 - an integrated digital amplifier - and the PS Audio Perfectwave CD transport. Add to that a very special speaker cable from Synergistic Research and you are talking about 10.000 euro worth of gear. The assessment was quite easy. First observation was that the sound of the Lyngdorf/PS Audio combo was very similar to the sound produced by my own setup. By and large we were listening to the same kind of neutral and clean picture. But it was also immediately clear that my own set provided more air, liquidity and authority to the music. It flowed more freely, providing a much more compelling listening experience. In a way it's not surprising giving that the Lyngdorf has an integrated amp and a DAC under one roof whilst in my case there are four components with equally many power sources. But the stiff price (4200 euro) of the Lyngdorf is a fact too.

So the conclusion is that I need to spend serious money to get a better sound, and even then it won't be a quantum leap. Putting 802Ds in the living room is going to make difference but it won't be a revolution. The analogue upgrade path is clear and that is certainly something I am going to do. For 2000 extre euros there is no doubt I can significantly improve the quality of my vinyl output. The digital chain will have to wait. I can't see me sinking 3000 euros or more into marginal improvements. Some kind of music server or streamer will eventually come, but the technology still needs to mature it seems to me. It's just an extra input channel. With the laptop and the iPad - complemented with a tweak to generate an asynchronous USB signal - I can go already a long way. All in all this is very good news. It has renewed my confidence in what I have built up over the years and brings, at least temporarily, peace of mind ...

Comment: Digital Concert Hall and streaming

Despite the dearth of serious music over the past few weeks, there have been momentous developments. It all started when I persuaded my parents to give me a full-year subscription to the Berlin Philharmonic's Digital Concert Hall. Earlier this year I had seen Rattle's take on Mahler's Resurrection live and was impressed by the quality of the whole concept. So now with a full year stretching out before me in which to see more than 100 archived concerts, 30 live concerts and a very nice collection of interviews and documentary films, I started to think earnestly about other options to listen to the music. My little AKG headset directly plugged into the MacBook is fine, but it would be nice to benefit of the full 320 kbps that is offered by the Berliner.

The solution was surprisingly simple. I just had to connect my computer via a USB A to mini-B cable to my Grace M902 DAC and that was it. Beautiful streaming sound through my B&W 804s! I was captivated. Suddenly a host of new opportunities suggested themselves. What about digital transmissions from classical radio station? And indeed, I soon found the Concerthuis by Dutch Radio 4 and could listen to their archived collection of more than 100 live concerts. Fantastic! Same with France Musique, Arte TV, and so on.

Given that the M902 functions as a high quality headphone amp, there was no problem at all to listen to the performances via the splendid Beyerdynamic T1. Quite a difference with the AKG!

Then onwards to the iPad. Same kind of connection via the USB cable to the Grace and I could watch the Berliner on this flimsy, shiny disc whilst listening to great sound. Wow! I was over the moon, feeling like a little boy with too much money in the candy store. The sheer volume of music you can just tune into is amazing.

In terms of quality of sound, I like what I hear. The concerts by the Berliner are of stellar quality. I can't hear the difference with a good (!) CD. But even the Concerthuis seems to transmit at a very decent quality. It's probably only 128 kbps but I can't really hear it. I do hear the compromises in quality though when listening to the 15 minute previews of the Naxos Musical Library. That is an amazing phenomenon that I didn't even know existed. It's a library that gives access to more than 50.000 CDs from many 'smaller' labels (meaning not Universal Music), including Naxos itself, but also Chandos, BIS, Da Capo, ZigZag, BBC Legends etc. It's simply intimidating. All that becomes accessible at 128 kpbs for 220 euro/year. I think this is an amazing offer. I haven't perused it yet, but I may do so in the future, even if only for research purposes. For now I have more than enough to listen to.

Likely there are improvements possible in terms of sound quality. Whether the quality of the USB cable makes a difference is a matter of debate. Some say it doesn't and others (like Wim Vanderstraeten from Link) say it does. I am not planning to invest in a high end cable for the time being. The other thing is that the Grace is a very good DAC but the USB transfer mode is synchronous which allegedly is not the best for audio. The M902 is, however, not able to do this. The new M903 is, but there is no upgrade path from one to the other. Oh well, so be it. For the time being I'll stick to what I have.

Another thing which becomes a realistic option now is to start playing music from hard disk. I have an acute space problem when it comes to CDs and I might put certain parts of my collection (pop music, to start with) on a hard drive to listen to. I have been reading up on the Bryston BDP-1 which seems like an eminently sensible concept to me: it's just a reader. Storage and DAC remain outboard which should improve the quality of the whole setup.

I haven't been listening a lot to any of the new music sources. Lack of time, to an extent. But there is also the strange psychological mechanism that the more abundant the music resources are I have access to, the more circumspect I become in using them. I really do not want to fall into the trap of consumptive listening, but want to give whatever I listen to adequate time and attention. Maybe I am getting too worked up about it all, but that's the way I am feeling about it. To be continued ...

Comment: Review of 'The People's Artist - Prokofiev's Soviet Years'

I posted a review of Simon Morrison's 'The People's Artist - Prokofiev's Soviet Years'  here. It's a welcome addition to the library but not the final word on this (altogether tragic) episode in his life. Morrison is very much focused on Prokofiev's dramatic output. The instrumental and symphonic work gets a perfunctory treatment. And the foundational mystery - namely how Prokofiev was able to find artistic nourishment in this brutally inhuman society - remains a riddle.

Comment - LP vs CD

I just wanted to keep track of this sensible comment on an Amazon forum regarding the relative merits of LP and CD.

Comment - Review Hartmann/Conlon

I wrote a (rather stilted) review of the Conlon/Spivakov disc with Hartmann works here.

Comment - 12 musical epiphanies

The recent audition of Wagner's Parsifal brought to mind one of the strongest musical experiences I ever had. I was 22, studying agricultural engineering and immersed in an exam period. A professor had given me reason to believe that I had flunked his exam (which I didn't). I returned home angry but also dispirited. So rather than to start studying for next day's exam, I threw my briefcase in a corner, switched on the hifi and started to listen to the Parsifal. Eventually I sat through the full four hours of the whole opera, completely oblivious of the passing time. It must have been late afternoon when I returned, fully refreshed and poised, to my desk to study for next day's examination. Which went absolutely fine. It was a strange episode. A replenishing hole in time.

I' ve been thinking about other epiphanies that have punctured my musical journey and I get to 12 decisive experiences.

1. Around 1982: the foundational epiphany. A sequence in a movie starring Louis de Funès (La Grande Vadrouille). There is a sequence in which he plays a conductor rehearsing the Hungarian March, from Berlioz' La Damnation de Faust. It struck me like a bolt from the blue. Hardly slept that night. And next day I dashed to the library to borrow several LPs to start my musical explorations. It still amazes how suddenly this grabbed me. I had been listening to classical music before that time, even owned one single LP (Beethoven's Eroica) which I played again and again (stopping halfway the finale because I found it sounding too loud). But it was De Funès who really kicked off this lifelong passion.
2. 1983: Mahler's Third in the Kerstmatinee performance by Bernard Haitink. Epic, mysterious, larger than life. Unforgettable.
3. Around 1984: discovery of Shostakovich's Tenth Symphony in Karajan's interpretation. Until then I had not heard anything as uncompromisingly bleak and black as that music. I was very receptive to this kind of very gloomy music at that time. It still is one of my favourite pieces.
4. Around 1985: a visit on my own to the Staatsoper in Vienna. Standing places. Puccini's Turandot. I went away intoxicated, really out of this world. I still have vivid memories of this evening.
5. Around 1986: a live performance of Mahler's Tenth Symphony, with the Royal Flemish Philharmonic under the late Ernest Bour. A flawed performance - the trumpet solo could not hold the high A in the first movement's dissonant climax - but of suffocating intensity nevertheless.
6. 1987: the Parsifal session described above.
7. Around 1988: a live performance of Shostakovich's Fourth, again with the Royal Flemish Philharmonic in a church in Mechelen. Don't even remember the conductor. It was a very young guy. I also remember attending a general rehearsal (I wrote programme notes for the orchestra in those days). But I have never heard a performance (of any music) of comparable savagery. This was pure evil on the loose. Midway the performance one of the lighting spots fell from the church's walls. It was a totally apt incident that reinforced the atmosphere of pure terror. 
8. Around 1993: a live performance of Bruckner's Symphony nr. 8 with the Münchener Philharmonic under Celibidache, in the Amsterdam Concertgebouw Orchestra. Close encounters of the third kind.  
9. 2003: Rudolf Buchbinder plays Beethoven's last three piano sonatas in the Vienna Konzerthaus. No breaks at all, not even between sonatas! We were sitting on the scene, facing the 2000 head audience, partaking in an extraordinary sense of communion. 
10. 2008: JD puts on an LP of Karajan's Beethoven Ninth. The rediscovery of vinyl was a delight that continues up to the present day. 
11. 2009: the discovery of ECM, mainly through their book 'Horizons Touched'. I wrote a review of that book here. 
12. 2010: The present blog, which opens up a deepened way of listening and large tracts of new repertoire.

To be sure, I have heard many more memorable concerts. But these are experiences that are touchstones in my musical experience. I continue to return to them, as reference points. So what does this learn me?

• That the symphonic repertoire for me is at the heart of the musical experience.
• That recorded music is unlikely to be a substitute for live concerts - with their palpable atmosphere, the energy of thousands of people hanging in the room, the sense of occasion, the strong visual cues.
• That in the early years - when I was at a more impressionable age and a lot was new - epiphanies were more frequent. Although the last three years seem to point towards a renewal.
• That more recent epiphanies have a bearing on a deepening experience, associated with a more subtle appreciation of sound (vinyl, the ECM sound).

Comment - Bartok's Legacy timeline

I've added a Dipity-timeline to the blog which is going to retrace my exploration of Bartok and the various tracks that veer away from this central line of inquiry. So I will include works of other composers that bear a relationship - in spirit or musically - with Bartok's oeuvre. The timeline is cross-referenced with the blog and with relevant Youtube videos. I expect that this temporal perspective will enrich my understanding of Bartok's pivotal position in 20th century musical history.

Comment: Kennicott on active listening

In the February 2010 issue of Gramophone magazine there was an unusually perspicacious column by Philipp Kennicott, culture critic for the Washington Post, in which he captured very well what 'active listening' would ideally be about:

I'm interested in a listening device that actually helps one listen. We've had a century of remarkable progress in machines that reproduce music but most of those machines explicitly aimed to mimic the concert experience. I'm interested in machines that would enhance or develop the concert experience into something entirely different. First order of business: I want a device that can scroll the musical score as the music is playing but not require that I sit at a computer screen. I want to see the music passing by no matter where I'm listening — lying down, sitting on a train, jogging. This may mean projecting it onto a screen, or some kind of invisible screen, or maybe even using holographic technology. Now, if I'm feeling lazy, or lend my new device to someone who isn't proficient at score reading, I want the option for the score to standardise.

We're not through yet. Given the advances in video game technology, perhaps we should have another option that represents music in sculptural form. The listener will pick the basic shapes — Euclidean solids, cloud forms, fractal patterns, Henry Moore statues — and the computer will use them to represent the basic elements of music. This should be sophisticated enough that I can turn it on, project it onto a table top and leave it playing alongside the music, like kinetic sculpture.
And while we're at it, I may desire to hear certain inner lines more clearly than the musicians are projecting them. It would be nice if, when I reached out and touched them (either in the score or in their sculptural analogue) they would become more prominent. Thus I could listen to the performance much more interactively, more like a conductor than a mere audience-member.

It should also be wired into a huge musical encyclopedia and database, complete with a catalogue of thematic material that allows the listener to stop the music and say, hey, isn't that like a theme I know from Mahler? I want the answer to that question, and I want it now. Of course, we're going to want some default switches on this device, so that it's absolutely clear when the listener is interfering with the "truth" of the recording. And as with all new gizmos, the more options the better, so if I want to use the machine like an ordinary DVD player, I can turn off the "extras" and simply watch the musicians perform.

I'm not holding my breath. The technology is probably the least of the problems. The main issue is that this fantasy listening device fills a need that not many people recognise: to listen more actively. Listening generally falls into the category of entertainment, and technology often assumes that what people want (in addition to listening) is distraction. Most of the half-hearted attempts to create classical music video tend towards this direction — visual fantasies that seem almost apologetic about the music they supposedly serve.

My device would be completely different, using the emergent gaming technology and video wizardry entirely in service of the score, the performance and the listener's curiosity about the construction of the music itself. Which is why I'm not expecting to see it on the market any time soon. But if it arrives, and prices come down to reasonable levels, I'll put it straight on my wish-list.

Comment - ECMreview.com

Talking about ECM: a while ago a received a kind mail which read as follows:

My name is Tyran Grillo. I currently run an ECM Records blog entitled "between sound and space" which you may view here:

http://ecmreviews.com

I recently came across your beautifully composed review of Schnittke's Ninth Symphony on Amazon and was wondering if you would mind my adding it, and any other ECM reviews you might have, to my "Guest Reviews" page. Feel free to take a look at my blog and let me know what you think.

I was happy to oblige with the request and the ECM reviews that I originally posted on Amazon.com now have been added to the bottom of the 'guest reviews' section.

The blog is really an interesting resource for ECM afficionados. Tyran's aim is eventually to review every single ECM disc (there are over a 1000) and to provide an open forum for all things ECM.