A second live concert in merely three days. And again on invitation by a generous friend. How lucky can you be?! This time we had the Concertgebouw Orchestra on the Bozar stage, led by Valery Gergiev. I was under the impression that we were only going to hear the Sibelius and Prokofiev and so I was surprised when just before the concert the full orchestra was seated with scarcely any room for a soloist. Once Gergiev, with his characteristically fluttering downbeat had put proceedings in motion, I had to guess for a minute or two what composer we were listening to. However, Dutilleux' orchestral palette is so distinctive that it didn't take long to find out that we were hearing his Métaboles. I love this work and Gergiev and the orchestra did it proud with a very precise, lively and atmospheric performance. Bravo! Next was the Sibelius concerto with Leonidas Kavakos as a soloist. I may have one or two recordings of his in my collection but that's pretty much it. So I didn't have a clear picture of what kind of violonist Kavakos is. I was surprised by his rather light, silvery and almost feminine tone. His playing has an appealing purity and unaffectedness and his stage presence radiates a calm that is readily taken up by the orchestra. So we had an almost intimate Sibelius produced by an orchestra-soloist combo that really seemed to listen to one another. No pyrotechnics, no overcooked pathos, but plain music-making at a very high level. One doesn't ask for more. I was pretty elated by this performance. Kavakos offered an interesting, 20th century encore that I couldn't place but I'd love to be able to identify.
After the break we were treated to Prokofiev's magnificent Fifth. Sadly Gergiev's reading did not convince me. Maybe it shouldn't have come as a surprise as I disliked his Prokofiev recordings with the London SO so much that I gave them away. I found these readings to sound disjointed, an impression that was reinforced by the highly artificial, collage-like recording. Also tonight the symphony didn't gel. Of course, my immutable reference in this particular work is the truly heartwrenching 1979 recording with Bernstein and the Israel PO. I relistened to it a while ago. As far as I can say, the problem with Gergiev's approach is the choice of tempi, and their interrelationships. In the first movement, exposition and development section were taken at roughly the same tempo with the coda coming in with a slight accelerando. Bernstein takes the exposition (very) slow, but speeds up the development section to tremendous effect. In the coda the tempo slackens again which gives appropriate emotional pause. In addition to the tempo I had the impression that the orchestra was not going full throttle. For me, this introductory Andante has to be cataclysmic and with Bernstein and the Israelis it absolutely is. The performance tonight was rather too straight-laced, the percussion session holding back a lot of their firepower.
Gergiev's second movement, Allegro marcato, was very well done. Very sprightly, with razor sharp strings. The Adagio then was the real disappointment. Instead of an extatic love song we had a prosaic, rather brisk romp. The finale, then, was ok but by then it was too late to save the performance. All in all sadly not convincing. But, hey, you can't win them all. I was grateful for a very engaging first half of the evening. Thanks to CB for the treat.
A personal diary that keeps track of my listening fodder, with mixed observations on classical music and a sprinkle of jazz and pop.
Posts tonen met het label Dutilleux. Alle posts tonen
Posts tonen met het label Dutilleux. Alle posts tonen
maandag 19 maart 2012
vrijdag 20 januari 2012
Landowski: Symphony nr. 3, Concerto for Ondes Martenot, 4 Pieces for Trumpet and Organ - Koechlin: Vers la Voûte Etoilée - Dutilleux: Timbres, Espace, Mouvement
The 9 CD Landowski set came in and I was keen to relisten some of what I had heard in decidedly lo-fi fashion on Youtube. The Symphony nr. 3 'Des Espaces' (1964) consists of two contrasting movements: an introductory Grave (10'21") followed by a propulsive Allegro deciso (6'10"). Landowski conceived it as a concerto for orchestra and it shows in the lush, pointillist orchestral fabric. The title of the work expresses the composer's ambition to 'evoke the great spaces of the work as well as, inwardly, those spaces imagined sometimes in our dreams'. I find this an attractive work that in its orchestral brilliance, shimmering dark harmonies and voluptuous chromaticism reminds me strongly of early Dutilleux.
Another captivating work is the earlier Concerto for Ondes Martenot, String Orchestra and Percussion (1954). Personally I have never taken to this weird instrument - which works by varying the frequency of oscillation in a vacuum tube. In Messiaen's work its contribution strikes me often as comical or even slightly vulgar. But in this concerto it has a beautifully suggestive part, singing out a kind of unearthly melancholy in tune with the overall mournful ambience of the piece. Sure, Landowski is not a great melodist, likely not even a particularly great musical architect, but much more of a colorist who knows how to coax a distinctive atmosphere from the orchestra. The accompaniment by the Orchestre de Chambre de Musique Contemporain led by Jacques Bondon lacks refinement but the solo part by Jeanne Loriod (younger sister of pianist and Messiaen's second wife Yvonne Loriod) is commendable. The recording date is unknown but must be from the mid-1960s as Bondon's OCMC was established in 1962 and only existed a couple of years under that name.
Landowski's feeling for unorthodox instrumental colours is also the main attraction of his Four Pieces for Trumpet and Orchestra (1977). It's a substantial work of about 22' consisting of four parts, each of which carries vague references to religious or mystical regimens: 'jour du secret intérieur', 'jour de quête de soi', 'jour des regrets et des pardons', 'jour de joie'. These kinds of religious, literary or philosophical-humanist references seem to be quite abundant in Landowski's work, although they never assume the fervour with which they are flaunted by Messiaen. The four pieces are quite interesting to listen to. Again it's more the mood of mystery and introspection that captivates rather than anything else.
Landowski is stylistically often associated to his teacher Arthur Honegger but from what I hear this doesn't seem to make much sense. Honegger's musical language is more severe and often has a granitic quality that Landowski's work seems to lack. I may change my mind after I have heard some of the latter's dramatic works but I'd be really surprised. No, for me there is a line towards more wayward figures such as Charles Koechlin, who left a sprawling and unorthodox oeuvre. I have started to collect some of his work that has appeared on the Hänssler label as part of a long-term project to record a significant part of this largely forgotten music. Making the transition from Landowksi's work to Koechlin's symphonic study Vers la Voûte Etoilée, op. 129 (1923-33, rev. 1939) feels very natural. There's the nocturnal atmosphere, the impressionistic colour palette, the sweeping chromatic lines, the heartfelt humanism that blooms from a confrontation with the tantalising cosmic expanses. Whilst Koechlin's orchestral textures are fuller than Landowski's there seems to me an unmistakable kinship between these two composers. The recording by the SWR orchestra led by Heinz Holliger is fine but in terms of sound quality it's sadly enough thirteen-to-the-dozen. However, we are not in a position to complain as there are no alternative recordings in the catalogue.
I finished this evening's program with a piece by Dutilleux: Timbres, Espace, Mouvement (1978, rev. 1991), subtitled La Nuit Etoilée (as it was inspired by Van Gogh's delirious Starry Night). In it's original incarnation it's a two-mouvement suite ('Nébuleuse', 'Constellation') that constitutes an impressive demonstration of the composer's symphonic prowess. The piece has an epic sweep and a rethorical immediacy that enthralls. Clearly, here is someone that not only has a very fertile orchestral imagination but also the ability to marshal his material in a rigorous and convincing way. Remarkable is that the orchestra does not include violins and violas but this hardly registers given the prominent and lively role of winds and percussion in this concerto for orchestra. Again, there are obvious resonances with the sound world of his almost exact contemporary Landowski. Baudo's recording with the Lyon orchestra is an early one (the 1985 Harmonia Mundi recording is not very impressive) and lacks an interlude for solo cellos that Dutilleux included only in the early 90s. I have that on a disc with the Bamberg orchestra conducted by Marc Soustrot issued on the Koch-Schwann label.
All in all this is another rewarding branch of French 20th century music. I am quite happy to have discovered Landowski who seems to naturally fill in a gap in this complex landscape. Reading some of the Gramophone reviews that have appeared over the years, I notice that Arnold Whittall gives Landowski short shrift. To my mind this is unjustified as there is a lot that seems to warrant closer investigation and patient listening.
Another captivating work is the earlier Concerto for Ondes Martenot, String Orchestra and Percussion (1954). Personally I have never taken to this weird instrument - which works by varying the frequency of oscillation in a vacuum tube. In Messiaen's work its contribution strikes me often as comical or even slightly vulgar. But in this concerto it has a beautifully suggestive part, singing out a kind of unearthly melancholy in tune with the overall mournful ambience of the piece. Sure, Landowski is not a great melodist, likely not even a particularly great musical architect, but much more of a colorist who knows how to coax a distinctive atmosphere from the orchestra. The accompaniment by the Orchestre de Chambre de Musique Contemporain led by Jacques Bondon lacks refinement but the solo part by Jeanne Loriod (younger sister of pianist and Messiaen's second wife Yvonne Loriod) is commendable. The recording date is unknown but must be from the mid-1960s as Bondon's OCMC was established in 1962 and only existed a couple of years under that name.
Landowski's feeling for unorthodox instrumental colours is also the main attraction of his Four Pieces for Trumpet and Orchestra (1977). It's a substantial work of about 22' consisting of four parts, each of which carries vague references to religious or mystical regimens: 'jour du secret intérieur', 'jour de quête de soi', 'jour des regrets et des pardons', 'jour de joie'. These kinds of religious, literary or philosophical-humanist references seem to be quite abundant in Landowski's work, although they never assume the fervour with which they are flaunted by Messiaen. The four pieces are quite interesting to listen to. Again it's more the mood of mystery and introspection that captivates rather than anything else.
Landowski is stylistically often associated to his teacher Arthur Honegger but from what I hear this doesn't seem to make much sense. Honegger's musical language is more severe and often has a granitic quality that Landowski's work seems to lack. I may change my mind after I have heard some of the latter's dramatic works but I'd be really surprised. No, for me there is a line towards more wayward figures such as Charles Koechlin, who left a sprawling and unorthodox oeuvre. I have started to collect some of his work that has appeared on the Hänssler label as part of a long-term project to record a significant part of this largely forgotten music. Making the transition from Landowksi's work to Koechlin's symphonic study Vers la Voûte Etoilée, op. 129 (1923-33, rev. 1939) feels very natural. There's the nocturnal atmosphere, the impressionistic colour palette, the sweeping chromatic lines, the heartfelt humanism that blooms from a confrontation with the tantalising cosmic expanses. Whilst Koechlin's orchestral textures are fuller than Landowski's there seems to me an unmistakable kinship between these two composers. The recording by the SWR orchestra led by Heinz Holliger is fine but in terms of sound quality it's sadly enough thirteen-to-the-dozen. However, we are not in a position to complain as there are no alternative recordings in the catalogue.
I finished this evening's program with a piece by Dutilleux: Timbres, Espace, Mouvement (1978, rev. 1991), subtitled La Nuit Etoilée (as it was inspired by Van Gogh's delirious Starry Night). In it's original incarnation it's a two-mouvement suite ('Nébuleuse', 'Constellation') that constitutes an impressive demonstration of the composer's symphonic prowess. The piece has an epic sweep and a rethorical immediacy that enthralls. Clearly, here is someone that not only has a very fertile orchestral imagination but also the ability to marshal his material in a rigorous and convincing way. Remarkable is that the orchestra does not include violins and violas but this hardly registers given the prominent and lively role of winds and percussion in this concerto for orchestra. Again, there are obvious resonances with the sound world of his almost exact contemporary Landowski. Baudo's recording with the Lyon orchestra is an early one (the 1985 Harmonia Mundi recording is not very impressive) and lacks an interlude for solo cellos that Dutilleux included only in the early 90s. I have that on a disc with the Bamberg orchestra conducted by Marc Soustrot issued on the Koch-Schwann label.
All in all this is another rewarding branch of French 20th century music. I am quite happy to have discovered Landowski who seems to naturally fill in a gap in this complex landscape. Reading some of the Gramophone reviews that have appeared over the years, I notice that Arnold Whittall gives Landowski short shrift. To my mind this is unjustified as there is a lot that seems to warrant closer investigation and patient listening.
woensdag 27 april 2011
Dutilleux - Piano Sonata/Keuris - Piano Sonata/Bartok - 4 Dirges/Franck: Prelude, Chorale and Fugue
Tonight a mixed piano recital with strong French connotations. The Dutilleux Sonate to start with. Dating from 1947, it's effectively his opus 1, written for and premiered by his spouse Geneviève Joy. It's modernistic, but accessible, with jazzy overtones (particularly in the first movement) and intimations of early Messiaen (in the impressionistic Lied). The final movement is a fine chorale and variations. Brian Ganz, who in 1991 won a third prize at the Elisabeth Competition, plays well enough but he his not helped by the Accord engineers who produced a very annoyingly boxy and lifeless sound for this recital. (At barely 40 minutes for the Sonata, the Preludes and the Resonances it's also a frightfully short disc).
The Keuris Sonata is a short piece (8') composed in 1970. I really can't find a sonata structure back in this jumble of disjointed and improvisatory themes and rhythms. Harmonically, though, it sits quite comfortably next to the Dutilleux. The reading by René Eckhardt (who is with Asko/Schönberg) manages to keep the attention throughout. An excellent recording it is too.
The Bartok Dirges (op 9a, from 1910) are curious pieces. Apparently based on Romanian mourning songs, they seem to have a lot of Debussy too. Alexei Lubimov plays one of the four pieces on his ECM recital "Der Bote". A beautifully evocative reading. I also listened to György Sandor's 1963 recording on the Vox label as part of a super-budget 5CD set. The transfers have not been terribly successful, with significant distortion and a rather boomy bass. But Sandor's conviction and artistry shines through, nevertheless.
Then onwards to Franck's Prelude, Chorale and Fugue (1884), a marvelous piece from the late romantic piano repertoire. I have a Nimbus recording of the late Cherkassky (recorded in 1987) in my collection. The purist single microphone recording technique makes for quite a shock after all the close miked stuff. It's very resonant and one has to concentrate to picture the piano in a large room to make the sound palatable. There seems also to be a muddying of the sound picture in the lower-mid frequencies. That being said, I love this reading of a grand piece which must have fitted the abilities of the ageing virtuoso hand in glove. I also listened to the chorale and fugue as played by Kissin who convincingly spans a broad canvas of almost imperial grandeur and devotional lyricism.
The Keuris Sonata is a short piece (8') composed in 1970. I really can't find a sonata structure back in this jumble of disjointed and improvisatory themes and rhythms. Harmonically, though, it sits quite comfortably next to the Dutilleux. The reading by René Eckhardt (who is with Asko/Schönberg) manages to keep the attention throughout. An excellent recording it is too.
The Bartok Dirges (op 9a, from 1910) are curious pieces. Apparently based on Romanian mourning songs, they seem to have a lot of Debussy too. Alexei Lubimov plays one of the four pieces on his ECM recital "Der Bote". A beautifully evocative reading. I also listened to György Sandor's 1963 recording on the Vox label as part of a super-budget 5CD set. The transfers have not been terribly successful, with significant distortion and a rather boomy bass. But Sandor's conviction and artistry shines through, nevertheless.
Then onwards to Franck's Prelude, Chorale and Fugue (1884), a marvelous piece from the late romantic piano repertoire. I have a Nimbus recording of the late Cherkassky (recorded in 1987) in my collection. The purist single microphone recording technique makes for quite a shock after all the close miked stuff. It's very resonant and one has to concentrate to picture the piano in a large room to make the sound palatable. There seems also to be a muddying of the sound picture in the lower-mid frequencies. That being said, I love this reading of a grand piece which must have fitted the abilities of the ageing virtuoso hand in glove. I also listened to the chorale and fugue as played by Kissin who convincingly spans a broad canvas of almost imperial grandeur and devotional lyricism.
zondag 10 april 2011
Dutilleux- String Quartet 'Ainsi la Nuit'
I have had the debut disc of the Belcea Quartet in my collection since when it first came out ten years ago. It won a Gramophone Award at the time. My infatuation with their fascinating rendering of the Bartok quartets, however, led me to dig it out again. It's a collection that we now see quite often in the catalogue: two French, well-loved early modernist quartets complemented by the more ascerbic Dutilleux. I chose the latter for an audition as I'm generally quite fond of Dutilleux' very lush and colourful orchestral works but I hardly knew his quartet. On paper, being composed of 12 short movements and interludes, it looks episodic. And two auditions lead me to believe it also sounds that way. It's not easy get a grasp on the musical proceedings. Sure, it reminds me to a certain extent of Bartok's Night's Music in Out of Doors, with the incessant buzz and flittering of noctural animal life. And I'm quite sure there are additional correspondences between the two masters, interested as Dutilleux is in reflecting the organismic working of memory in his music. I've read his early Piano Sonata (his op. 1, from1948) bears distinctive Bartokian fingerprints. But apart from the noctural mood the kinship is difficult to trace in this quartet. To be honest, I didn't get a lot out of it, despite the Belcea playing it with conviction enough. The recording has been made in Potton Hall - in Suffolk, close to Aldeburgh - where also the Bartok quartets have been taped. But the older recording suffers from a typical, glassy digital sheen. Fortunately, the Bartoks are much more natural sounding.
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