Category Archives: CD

Puccini Discoveries

Turandot: Finale Act III (completed by Luciano Berio); miscellaneous works
Orchestra Sinfonica di Milano Giuseppe Verdi
Riccardo Chailly (conductor)

DECCA 475 320-2
TPT: 1:20:47 

reviewed by Neville Cohn

The third in a series devoted to rescuing music from an undeserved obscurity – the first two focus on Rossini and Verdi respectively – this compilation of mainly, but not exclusively, music written by Puccini as a young man is fascinating fare for those seeking musical rarities.

Even the earliest material, written when the composer was a teenager, shows astonishing confidence and skill in the use of an orchestra, even if the ideas enshrined in these pieces are not in themselves particularly memorable. But these miniatures, way stations en route to creative greatness, provide fascinating listening. It’s treasure trove for collectors.

Consider the Cantata “Cessato il suon dell’armi”. It is very uneven with a trite rom-pom-pom quality but worth listening to for its virtuoso trumpeting and some wonderfully ardent singing by tenor Joseph Calleja. It wasn’t until as recently as 2003 that Puccini’s granddaughter Simonetta disclosed that she was in possession of some of the work’s performance parts, possibly in her grandfather’s hand.

There’s also a potpourri of themes from La Boheme played – most expressively and with a fine feel for tonal shadings – by a concert band. And a similar line-up tackles the noisy and trashy march-like Scossa elettrica with gusto. Trivia collectors would doubtless be interested to know that the latter was written for a convention of telegraphists in 1899. The title translates as ‘electric shock’!

Inno a Roma, just under three-and-a-half minutes long and the last piece Puccini completed before his death, is given a beautifully expressive reading. The composer didn’t care much for it, though, once dismissing it as “a fine mess”. Also recorded is Preludio a Orchestra, believed to be the composer’s earliest surviving composition, long believed lost but in 1999, the city of Lucca (where Puccini was born) purchased the original manuscript, now placed on disc for the first time. It shows astonishingly precocious handling of the orchestra.

Another curiosity is Salve Regina for soprano and organ, the latter played by Roberto de Thierry who provides a fine, understated accompaniment to soprano Chiara Taigi’s vocal line, which is somewhat marred by some wavering on sustained notes. (Puccini subsequently incorporated this into his first opera Le Villi.)

Organist de Thierry also features in Requiem for chorus, solo viola and organ ­ five-and-a-half minutes’ worth – although Gabriele Mugnai’s solo viola line is not always in tune.

Vexilla for men’s chorus and organ is trite tripe but certainly worth including in this compilation if only to show that the master was not always masterly. It was written at the time the young Puccini was playing in a dance band! And surely only for the very most dedicated collectors of trivia is Puccini’s Ecce sacerdos magnus for a cappella choir, all 25 seconds of it!

Far and away the most substantial offering – and worth having the disc if only for this – is Luciano Berio’s completion of Turandot. It’s a magnificent offering, the tragic splendour of the finale quite marvellously suggested; the brass is in superb form and does much to underscore the exotic nature of the episode, fine organ playing adding a fitting sense of grandeur. Eva Urbanova is beyond criticism in the eponymous role. This track is a world premiere recording as is much else on the disc such as Preludio a Orchestra, very much a prentice work, and the two pieces for concert band.

Motteto per San Paolino for baritone solo, chorus and orchestra was the first ever of Puccini’s works to be publicly performed; it’s worth paying attention to if only for that reason even if, despite a top performance, the music comes across as predictable, cliched and tedious.

Adagetto (which the young Puccini later recycled for use in his opera Edgar) is played in an appealingly expressive way, the hitherto unpublished manuscript transcribed for this world premiere recording by Riccardo Chailly who also added a closing chord.

Copyright 2004 Neville Cohn

 

The Waltzing Cat (Leroy Anderson)


Piano Concerto; The Typewriter; Sleigh Ride; Blue Tango: The Syncopated Clock; Chicken Reel; Fiddle Faddle et al
Melbourne Symphony Orchestra: Paul Mann (conductor)
Simon Tedeschi (piano)

ABC Classics 476 158-9
TPT: 1:08:04

  reviewed by Neville Cohn 

Millions around the world are familiar with the music of Leroy Anderson without necessarily knowing his name. And for much of the 1950s, when his music was at the height of its popularity, Anderson made a fortune from performing royalties.

And as eminent Australian-born, now USA-based, art critic Robert Hughes has pointed out, Anderson’s music became as much a part of the national consciousness of the USA as Norman Rockwell’s cover illustrations for the now defunct Saturday Evening Post.

His engaging music, for the most part, has never lost its popularity; it is still frequently heard, mainly on radio. And just as the SEP brought Rockwell huge fame, so, for Anderson, did the Boston Pops Orchestra which, under Arthur Fiedler’s direction, gave innumerable performances of his music – and placed a good deal of it on gramophone records that sold in huge quantities.

While Anderson was a student at Harvard, his teachers included George Enescu; he flourished under the older man’s guidance. Versatile as well as gifted, Anderson played organ, piano, tuba, trombone and double bass.

After being ‘discovered’ by Fiedler in the 1930s, Anderson was invited to write a piece for the Boston Pops annual Harvard Night performance. Jazz Pizzicato was the result and the rest, as they say, is history. Anderson never looked back, leaving the world a precious legacy of orchestral delights, music that is unfailingly sunny and optimistic, miniatures without a trace of sadness, regret, violence or anxiety.

His music has worn well; his pieces sound as fresh and engaging as they ever did. Who over the age of, say, 60 years, can listen to delights such as The Typewriter or Blue Tango without experiencing a rush of nostalgia?

Anderson was at his most effective as a miniaturist, turning out a stream of short pieces, like the delightful Waltzing Cat or Bugler’s Holiday, compact compositions that lodged as much in the heart as the mind of legions of listeners. They defined an era.

But that sure touch was absent when Anderson embarked on larger scale works. His Piano Concerto in C lacks the magic of his miniatures – and not even the very considerable virtuosity of soloist Simon Tedeschi can disguise the inherent dullness of the concerto. Interestingly, a musical, Goldilocks, ran for 169 performances on Broadway even though the critics clobbered it.

Conductor Paul Mann, the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra and the recording engineers have together produced one of ABC Classics most charming and engaging issues in some time.

Copyright 2004 Neville Cohn

 

Magdalena Kozena (mezzo soprano) and friends


Chansons madecasses (Ravel);

Satires (Shostakovich);

Il Tramonto (Respighi);

Drei Stimmungsbilder (Schulhoff);

A Charm of Lullabies (Britten)

DG 471 581-2

reviewed by Neville Cohn 

Magdalena Kozena’s voice is a remarkable instrument – and in this compilation, it does her bidding to an extraordinarily meaningful degree.Respighi’s Il Tramonto is a perfect vehicle for displaying it to advantage. Listen to the skill with which she is able to sustain a note without loss of power or weakening of intonation while producing a stream of sound that caresses the ear. There is about the singing here a serene, contemplative quality that sounds intuitively right; it blends beautifully with the corporate sound of the Henschel Quartet.Kozena’s account of Britten’s A Charm of Lullabies to Malcolm Martineau’s unfailingly stylish accompaniments at the piano, is frankly magical. I particularly admired her account of The Highland Balou to words of Robbie Burns. With its gentle Scotch snap, Kozena’s vocal line has a velvety mellow quality to which Martineau responds with exquisite backing. On the other hand, A Charm (which, with its references to horned hags, would surely be frightening for a young child before lights are put off for the night) seems grossly unsuitable as a lullaby – but then, Britten had no children and perhaps simply could not imagine that a father, with an instinct to protect and shield a child from harm and fear, could never inflict so unsuitable a song on a child being lulled to sleep.

Similarly unsuitable for little children, surely, is Nurse’s Song, more menacing than soothing. But Kozema and Martineau are beyond reproach in that in each case they take up an interpretative position at the emotional epicentre of the music. This is artistry of the highest order.

Of Ravel’s Madagascan songs, it is the second in the cycle – Cries – that makes for rivetting listening from its initial crashing chord that calls attention to a terrible tale of violence visited upon the largely defenceless native Madagascans by French colonisers. This song, with its undercurrent of horror, is flanked by pieces of a very different stripe: the first, a love song is given near-ecstatic treatment – and the languor which informs Il est doux is very convincingly evoked.

A generous compilation includes three songs by Erwin Schulhoff who died, tragically young, in a nazi concentration camp in 1942. Close your eyes, to the accompaniment of piano and Christoph Henschel’s sweet-toned violin, comes across as the apotheosis of sadness. And of a bracket of songs by Shostakovich, it is The Critic that lodges most firmly in the mind with its bitter, withering attack

In this compilation, Kozena proves herself that rarity among singers: she sounds utterly persuasive no matter what language she sings in. This, in addition to a no-less-infrequently encountered ability to mine everything she approaches for the subtlest of interpretative nuances, places her in a special category of excellence.

Copyright 2004 Neville Cohn

 

 

 

 

 

in flagranti Geoffrey Morris ( guitar and bass guitar )


Donatoni, Ferneyhough, Cage et al
ABC Classics 465 701-2

TPT 1:6:52

 reviewed by Stuart Hille 

With the exception of the harp, the guitar creates a unique ambience of intimacy when used as a solo instrument. When writing for it, composers often feel the need, partly to counteract its closeness and partly to take advantage of it, to employ rapid changes of tonal range and to examine a huge span of colouristic nuances. They should always bear in mind that because of the instrument’s susurrant quality a ‘piano’ for example, becomes very soft and mysterious or a ‘forte’ penetrating and voiceful. Therefore, extra care needs to be adopted to create a work that utilises these facets in the service of a convincing musical shape.

As we shall see shortly, not all the items on ‘in flagranti’ display a persuasive sense of orientation or direction ( ie. an architecture that can be aurally detected ) but firstly we should note that soloist Geoffrey Morris, no matter the difficulties imposed by various works, shows fleet-footed accuracy and refinement throughout. Nor should we forget the sound engineers and supervisors as the care needed to negotiate this medium requires a delicate sense of sonic footing.

When observing the many colouristic distinctions used by the composers featured on this disc it must be remembered that they are just that – differentia; and if these are used as major structural determinants they quickly become overwrought.

There is one work in particular – David Young’s ‘Jasmine’ – which appears to have missed this point. The leaflet notes inform us that there is considerable intellectual life in the music and this may well be true but it has become enshrouded by glissandi, quarter tones, difficult and wavering harmonics, rapid juxtapositions of dynamics and so forth thus denying the piece a palpable sense of shape.

One appreciates, on paper, Young’s inspiration arising from a jasmine plant and the implication of germination, growth and coup de grace ( the macro and micro musical equivalents being obvious ) but it is lost in the telling and, consequently, the abundance of gestures become self-defeating. And while ‘Jasmine’ is the most
obvious example to take, Young is certainly not alone in the obscuration of a simple image or idea.

Gabriele Manca’s ‘In flagranti’ ( the disc’s namesake ) uses a profusion of gestures and techniques, particularly ‘bottle necking’, in such a way that minor parameters are relied on for major scaffolding, thereby giving the music an amorphousness rather than firm foundation. Also, as with Young’s composition, the length of ‘In flagranti’, as a result of or a perception of meandering dialogue, seems inordinately long.

Similarly, Brian Ferneyhough’s ‘Kurze Schatten II’ ( Short Shadows II ) and Franco Donatoni’s ‘Algo: Due pezzi per chitarra’, while certainly not lacking audible shape, are overextended in duration. Both composers have a firmly established reputation for rationality or calculation. Donatoni is perhaps more accessible or relaxed in attitude and this is mirrored in his music but Ferneyhough has a penchant for complexity. His composition here is no exception and one strongly suspects that the temporal overreach is a result of a convolution that simply took this long to resolve. To reduce it to three movements would create a fine, engaging piece of music. But would, of course, be unthinkable for the composer.

Geoffrey Morris, undaunted by the technical intricacies of any of the works, proves his prowess and responsiveness time and again. There is also a naturalness or unpretentiousness in his approach that one finds refreshing. This is most useful in the rendition of Michael Finnissy’s ‘Two Motets’ ( which, in the disc’s general context, appears to be somewhat naive ).

Deborah Kayser ( soprano ) and Morris combine to give the work gentleness and an improvisatory quality through attention for rhythmic flexibility. Yet one still wonders why the piece, surrounded by the volcanicity of Donatoni, Young, Marca and Ferneyhough, is included in the recording. Not that its presence is unwelcome, just confusing. It is soon realised that its principal rÙle is to act as a foil – a penumbral backdrop for the fireworks to follow.

While the programming of the Finnissy might seem a little contrived, the choice of the final two numbers – ’15 Zwiefache’ by Walter Zimmermann and ‘composed Improvisation’ by John Cage demonstrates doubtless manipulation. The notion of contrast between the rational and the aleatoric, the us/them mentality has gradually undergone integration over the past thirty years resulting in new syntheses, new styles and new attitudes. So to find it resurfacing on a recent recording which begins with Donatoni and ends with Cage and is centred by Ferneyhough and Zimmermann, is not only pedantic but also dated.

A more satisfying format would have been the placement of ’15 Zwiefache’ between ‘In flagranti’ and ‘Kurze Schatten II’. In programming, heterogeneous balance is far preferable to one that draws attention to distinct differences.

In spite of this, there is a great deal here of interest – especially for the connoisseur of late twentieth century guitar music. The enforced historical layout is unnecessary but the album, nevertheless, is an excellent showcase for Geoffrey Morris.

With the exception of the final work, where his improvisatory skills show a need for fine-tuning and a deeper understanding that such music really only requires the need for the performer to act as a conduit for external sounds, he appears to have not only surmounted the athletic demands but has done so with considerable felicity and a fine perception of dynamic counterpoise.

© Stuart Hille 2004.

Theme and Deviations – the piano music of Sonny Chua

SONNY CHUA (piano)
MOVE MD 3230
TPT: 01:11:20

reviewed by Neville Cohn 

Theme and Deviations features the music of Sonny Chua, performed by the composer who was born in Penang, Malaysia but now lives in Melbourne. Much of this delightful recital consists of short pieces, some less than half a minute long and many of which are irreverently tongue-in-cheek. Some of a 15-track bracket, called “assorted fairies”, have a zany, madcap quality – “twinkling fairy”, played high in the treble register, has a tinkling, musical box feel to it; “funky fairy” is a quirky miniature with its off-beat accents – and “cuckoo fairy” is instantly identified by that unfortunate bird’s characteristic call. “red hot rhapsodies” is memorable for its “Jamaican Fumble”, a little toccata in tricky 5/8 time.

 

The title work – “Theme and Deviations” – is a hoot with its allusions to Bizet’s Carmen, Arthur Benjamin’s Jamaican Rhumba and honky tonk a la Scott Joplin. I liked, too, Rodeo, a high-octane, cheerfully noisy romp. And Yo ho ho is a robust, very jolly jig. But it’s not all fun and games. Vision, with its peremptory chords, has a dark, sombre quality – and the “Preludio” of the Sonatina has solid, striding chords that give way to toccata-like measures to which the “Intermezzo” is an introspective foil; it leads into the rapidity and insouciance of the concluding “Rondo”.