Showing posts with label london. Show all posts
Showing posts with label london. Show all posts

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Private Passion Now Public: Rachel Brown and the Tip of Quantz’s Previously Unpublished ‘Iceberg’


W hat a remarkable performance Rachel Brown (baroque flute) and Terence Charlston (harpsichord) gave last Friday, in the Parry Rooms at the Royal College of Music in London!
  • Sonata in G major, No. 272 - Presto mà fiero
  • Sonata in B major, No. 267 - Larghetto
  • Sonata in A major, No. 274 - Grazioso mà vivace
  • Sonata in D major, No. 277 - Allegro assai
  • Sonata in G minor, No. 366 - Affettuoso, mà mesto; Allegro di molto, mà fiero
  • Sonata in B-flat major, No. 272 - Allegro di molto; Affettuoso; Vivace
  • Sonata in C minor, No. 276 - Cantabile
  • Sonata in F major, No. 356 - Larghetto, mà arioso; Allegro di molto
  • Sonata in G minor, No. 265 - Con affetto, mà non troppo lento
T he occasion for the performance was the launch of the publication of the first two volumes of Quantz flute sonatas that Rachel has edited. Brown’s edition of Quantz Sonatas, bringing these works to the public for the first time, is available by subscription, either to one volume or both, by emailing her at info@uppernote.com.

T his is a marketing approach similar to that used in the 18th Century. For example, Brown notes that Telemann’s Paris Quartets listed among its subscribers not only several members of the French aristocracy, such renowned players as Blavet, Guignon, Edouard, and composers, notably de Caix d'Hervelois, Charpentier, Mondonville, Fasch, Pisendel but also a ‘J.S. Bach of Leipzig’.

V olume 1 contains 6 sonatas (F major No. 272; G major No. 273; A major No. 274; B-flat major No. 275; C minor No. 276; D major No. 277) as does Vol. 2 (B minor No. 231; B minor No. 267; G minor No. 336; E-flat major No. 348; A major No. 351; F major No. 356). These are selected by Brown from the more than 300 flute sonatas that Quantz composed, almost none of which have been previously published.

Q   uantz’s book ‘On Playing the Flute’ is still one of the most-consulted books on flute technic, which makes it especially odd that virtually none of Quantz’s many compositions were actually published. Almost everything that was written by Quantz for King Frederick of Prussia remained in the court’s private possession, and then in the Stadtsbibliothek in Berlin, for more than 200 years. So I went to the library in Berlin to have a look. I would arrive in the morning when they opened at 9 a.m. and take a quarter-hour lunch and leave when they closed at 7 p.m. The librarians were wonderful; they broke almost every rule to help me—they were so delighted that someone was taking an interest in these things. It turns out that there are more than 300 Quantz concerti and about 400 sonatas, hardly any of which have been published.”
  —  Rachel Brown, remarks between Quantz sonatas, 19-NOV-2010.
T he design of these Volumes is unique in several ways. Firstly, for the sonatas that have a ‘bass’ (cello) part as well as flute and harpsichord, the flute and bass parts appear on linked staff-systems together—so that both players can continuously see what the other is doing, with the obvious advantages that this entails for fluid, mutually-responsive performance.

I   t is crucial, I think, to have the flute and the cello (bass) parts together on the page—to have the cello able to see where the dialogue with the flute is going and, from that, to be better able to choose appropriate phrasing and ornamentation.”
  —  Rachel Brown, remarks between Quantz sonatas, 19-NOV-2010.
 Quantz book
T   onguing, for Quantz, was not just simple ‘tuh’ or ‘duh’. Instead, tonguing involved a whole range of syllables and shades—tiree, tä, diddle-diddle—all sorts of articulations that could alter the sound and reveal different qualities of expression. The expressive range he covered is really quite marvelous—something that takes years to fathom, really.”
  —  Rachel Brown, remarks between Quantz sonatas, 19-NOV-2010.
R achel expressed deep thanks to Terence Charlston for his skill and devotion in preparing right-hand parts where Quantz only provided left-hand continuo. In all, Terry had to compose about 120 minutes of right-hand harpsichord score, for the multiple movements of the 12 sonatas in these two volumes.

R achel also expressed gratitude to Jackie Lee, whose Finale©/Sibelius© copyist/pre-press expertise produced the publication-ready digital files. Rachel’s specification and Jackie’s layout involve fold-out pages so as to prevent any awkward page-turns for the performers. This is a second unique/novel aspect of the design of the 2-Volume publication.

T he acoustics in the intimate, modest-size Parry Rooms on the 4th floor at RCM were ideal for the baroque flute-harpsichord duo. Filled to capacity with more than 120 people eager to hear these works, the rooms with their irregular wall and ceiling contours and the warm yellow-pine ceiling and paneling served to reflect the sound in such a way that most everyone had a good vantage point for hearing the performance. (We were grateful for Rachel's consideration in getting everybody who was in Parry 1 moved into Parry 2 just before the performance began!)

 Ceiling of Parry Room at RCM
B rown explained at length the merits of various alternate fingerings that the Quantz design affords. Her blazing 32nd notes in the bravura first movements of the pieces, though, are pretty incredible, regardless how well-engineered and forgiving a particular instrument may be. It is hard for most of us to imagine executing these fast passages on a modern Boehm design instrument with anything approaching the fluency and consistency of tone that Brown achieves on an early flute! What prodigious ability she has!

W e were similarly thrilled by Charlston’s finely-nuanced harpsichord performance. The gracefulness of his accomodation of accelerando and ritardando decisions initiated by Brown was magnificent; the ornaments Charlston applied embodied a fresh spontaneity that responded attentively to Brown’s gestures but never ‘competed’ with them. Really exciting ‘collaborative keyboard’ at its best!

O   ne of Quantz’s strengths was rhetorical ‘delivery’... all of the gestures with tonguing and breathing... He believed that every musician should play like an accomplished orator speaks: clarity and conviction should ring out from every declaration that you make as a musician. Above all else, you must be an orator.”
  —  Rachel Brown, remarks between Quantz sonatas, 19-NOV-2010.
A n especially endearing and comment-worthy aspect of the evening were Rachel’s remarks between the pieces that she and Terry played. She covered an amazing gamut of topics, ranging from instrument design, to ornamentation and historically-informed performance practice, to flute-playing technic, to composition methods, to Prussian history, to anecdotes on parent-child relationships and the plight of kids whose natures are ‘different’ than their parents would prefer. Seldom have we had so much fun as we did on Friday night. Immediately bought all of Rachel’s Quantz CDs on-offer, to take them home and get better acquainted with this previously-private-now-public Quantz passion. Judging by the qualities she displayed during the Friday night performance at RCM, Rachel must be one hell of a teacher! Bravo!

E   very day, Quantz was defending and protecting his reputation... It is interesting to read other people’s accounts of him... In his own writings, filled with quotidian bits and pieces, he will often tell you, for example, how much he paid for a thing, as though it were important to him to demonstrate or prove his shrewdness. He was orphaned at a young age and was taken under the wing of a local musician... In his teens, Quantz concentrated on oboe and violin; only later did he come to concentrate on flute. It is underappreciated how much of a musical jack-of-all-trades he was—how resilient.”
  —  Rachel Brown, remarks between Quantz sonatas, 19-NOV-2010.
H   e gave flute lessons, secretly, to Prince Frederick—before Frederick’s father, the King, died. The father’s disapproval of music, and especially of flute, was absolute; he considered it far too effeminate, inadequate as a representation of Prussian militarism, and incompatible with the important priorities that Frederick must have in his training to become King one day. There was one episode during one of Quantz’s lessons when one of Frederick’s servants reported that the father was approaching the part of the palace where the secret flute lessons room was located. Quantz and the flutes and the music and the music stands were shoved into an armoire. The father arrived and found Frederick alone, studying some book of military strategy, but, because Frederick’s hair was still done-up in the French style, he knew something was ‘up’. The father searched the area for more than an hour, but never found Quantz in the armoire. Quantz, though, subsequently referred to the incident as ‘being cooked’—because the armoire was so cramped and hot while he was confined in there.”
  —  Rachel Brown, remarks between Quantz sonatas, 19-NOV-2010.
A   t one point, Frederick tried to escape, with the help of a servant. The two did not get far. The father arrested them and subsequently had them tried for high treason. Frederick was imprisoned for a year, and his father forced the young Frederick to witness the execution of the servant.”
  —  Rachel Brown, remarks between Quantz sonatas, 19-NOV-2010.
Q   uantz did marry, you know. It was under, shall we say, ‘intriguing’ circumstances. He went to visit the widow of one of his friends who had recently died. The woman was ill; bedridden; in fact, the priest had been called to administer the last rites to her. And, with the priest there, the woman was asked if there was anything she most desired before she departed this life. And she replied that her dying wish was to be married to the great Quantz. So Quantz agreed and the priest conducted the ceremony on the spot. After which the woman sprang from her bed, said she felt very much better now, and thanked everyone for coming. This was when Quantz’s annual income was more than 2,000 talers, more than 10 times that of C.P.E. Bach...”
  —  Rachel Brown, remarks between Quantz sonatas, 19-NOV-2010.
T   his particular flute is a boxwood one that I was able to buy from Carl Hanson in Yorkshire before he retired. It is a 2-key design after Quantz—the two keys are E-flat, which is a few cents higher in pitch, and D-sharp, which is a few cents lower in pitch [than would be the case in equal-temperament]. The difference is very useful, depending on which key a piece is written in. Rudolf Tutz in Innsbruck also made me two flutes of Quantz-type design, one of ebony and one of boxwood—these woods have substantially different tone qualities, both very good. The bore of Quantz flutes is considerably larger, especially in the headjoint, compared to other baroque flutes. The sound is darker and richer in the lower register and yet they are brilliant in the upper register...”
  —  Rachel Brown, remarks between Quantz sonatas, 19-NOV-2010.
T   hese titles or designations for pieces became more and more florid, you know... this ‘Allegro di molto, mà fiero’, ‘this way, but not too much so’, and so on. In fact, as we enter the Classical period, you can tell that people were finding it to be over-the-top. Mozart, for example, entitled one of the movements in his Quartet in A major KV-298 ‘Allegro grazioso, mà non troppo presto, però non troppo adagio, così-così-con molto garbo ed espressione’, mocking the excessiveness of the practice of a generation or two earlier.”
  —  Rachel Brown, remarks between Quantz sonatas, 19-NOV-2010.
 Quantz 2-key flute, by Tutz
M   odern editorial markings can so easily obscure the composer's intentions. Unhelpful editions of baroque music are readily recognisable: if a copy of a baroque sonata designates ‘piano accompaniment’; if the left-hand keyboard part has no figured bass; if there is no separate bass part for a cellist or viol player; if there are metronome marks...”
  —  Rachel Brown, The Early Flute.



Thursday, November 18, 2010

Meta-complexity in Brahms’s Clarinet Quintet

 Robert Hill, photo © Benjamin Ealovega
A nthony Burton’s program notes for the London Phil’s ‘Chamber Contrasts’ series at Wigmore Hall emphasize how impressed Brahms was with the potential of clarinet, as a result of his hearing clarinettist Richard Mühlfeld perform in 1891. But Brahms composed this Op. 115 clarinet quintet within a few years of his death from cancer, a period when many of his friends and family died (his sister Elise, his brother Fritz, Elizabeth von Herzogenberg, Hermione Spies, Theodor Broth, Clara Schumann, etc.). This makes me think that the recursive, ‘re-considering’ structures in this quintet maybe derive more from the emotional impact of those events on Brahms—than from any scheme Brahms may have had, to create in Op. 115 a virtuosic clarinet showpiece for the great Mühlfeld.

L arge-scale variation comes from relationships between variations (the theme included) and how these relationships are united into a pervasive algorithm that encapsulates the entire set—that is, an operating system governing the entire set. In other words, these are not a mere series of independent objects and methods (scripts) that are expected derivatives of a parent object or class. They are a ‘network-based object-oriented OS’.

W hat I mean is, Brahms’s variations feel to me ‘network-based’, not ‘hierarchical’. It seems (to me) that Brahms was exposing larger-scale connections, and transforming his idea into a multi-domain network rather than a hierarchical structure with conventional ‘parent’ exposition classes and ‘child’ instantiations. The arrangement of variations involves pairs of diatonic pitch-class cells derived from the theme. But the textural differences that follow are like remote procedure-calls that cross-link the tension-producing structures within the variations’ designs. This gives the piece an attractive sort of ‘meta-complexity’.

I n other people’s analyses (links below), variation sets in Brahms’s multi-movement instrumental compositions are usually only moderately complex. Variation sets in interior movements often do not have full ‘closure’. In the variations in this Clarinet Quintet in B minor, Brahms suggests or ‘projects’ closure by recapitulating first-movement phrases. But the promised closure doesn’t come until the very end. It is as though there is a latent, suspended complexity that is irreducible until the very end.

T his gets me to thinking about how Brahms does this, and how we might devise similar structures and mechanics in new music. The ‘Kolmogorov complexity’ (links below) of a software program or script, or a piece of text or a musical composition, is a measure of the computational resources needed to specify the object. Kolmogorov complexity is also known as descriptive complexity, Kolmogorov-Chaitin complexity, stochastic complexity, algorithmic entropy, or program-size complexity.

O ne of the appealing, intuitively plausible qualities of Kolmogorov complexity as a metric to characterize what I was hearing last night in the account of the Brahms clarinet quintet given by Robert Hill and his colleagues has to do with how the aggregate complexity goes, for large composite or ‘compound’ or ‘network’ or ‘cloud’ objects that are constituted from multiple smaller objects. For example, consider a compound object built up from objects X and Y. The Kolmogorov complexity of the two of them together K(X,Y) is:

K(X,Y) = K(X) + K(Y|X) + O(ln(K(X,Y)))

T his says that the shortest program that reproduces X and Y is no more than a logarithmic term larger than a program to reproduce X and a program to reproduce Y given X. This basically puts a quantitative ‘bound’ on the amount of mutual information there is between X and Y in terms of the Kolmogorov complexity.

T he amount of unresolved tension we feel in the inner movements in this Brahms quintet—and the intensity of the desire we feel for the eventual resolution of these tensions at the end—feels, to me, logarithmic. Maybe some future music theory PhD candidate will explore this notion properly and critically. For now, it’s happy enough for me to give you a few interesting links below and the glimmer of a potential reason why the complexities and proportions of this quintet seem so ‘right’ and so beautiful.




Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Constitutional Figments of Bachian Imaginations: Florilegium Compares and Contrasts Compositional Methods of 6 Members of the Bach Family

 Bach ahnentafel, the musically important bits
T    he Bach family has for a long time been the focus of genealogical research. No other musical family of German origin has spanned so many generations and produced such highly talented performers, as well as composers of the highest order.”
  —  Florilegium program notes.
T he Florilegium concert at Wigmore Hall on Wednesday 3 November was both illuminating in the musicological sense and satisfying musically.
  • Ashley Solomon - flute 1
  • Marta Gonçalves - flute 2
  • Bojan Čičić - violin 1
  • Jean Paterson - violin 2
  • Malgorzata Ziemkiewicz - viola
  • Jennifer Morsches - cello
  • Tim Amherst - bass
  • Terence Charlston - harpsichord
  • Johann Bernhard Bach - Overture; Marche; Passepied; Air-Lentement; La Joye; Caprice
  • Johann Christoph Friedrich Bach - Sonata in C major
  • Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach - Sonata in C minor, Wq 161 No. 4
  • Wilhelm Friedmann Bach - Adagio and Fugue in D minor, Falck 65
  • Johann Christian Bach - Quintet in D major
  • Johann Sebastian Bach - Orchestral Suite No. 2 in B minor, BWV 1067
T hey showed through these pieces how each Bach proposed, developed, elaborated, disposed, and decorated each element in structuring his composition.
I   f large-scale form really generates the working-out of inventions located right on the musical surface, then one needs plausible evidence of this [in the score]. In the absence of such evidence, the reverse position—following Occam’s Razor—is more compelling: that Bach first worked out his inventions—his themes which he ordered in permutational arrangements—and then ‘disposed’ them in a conventional scheme...”
  —  Laurence Dreyfus, p. 169.
T hey brought us fresh illustrations of these Bach family members’ working methods, and how they differed from each other. We also learned about the Bachs’ savvy and opportunistic appropriations of French and Italian styles—and about their co-optation of various genres for expressive or programmatic purposes different from their conventional/traditional ones.

T he ensemble played beautifully throughout, and the program was expertly devised to optimize variations in tempi and texture—to maximize dramatic tension, climax, and resolution for the audience—in addition to accomplishing the nominal aim of shedding light on parallels and differences among these Bachs.

T he flutes and viola, for example, in the Johann Bernhard ‘Passepied’ were a lush and serene contrast to the preceding ‘Marche’ and majestic ‘Overture’.

T he flute-violin-harpsichord ‘call-and-answer’ patterns in the Johann Christoph Friedrich Sonata were, for another example, a striking contrast to counterpoint and tutti sectional passages in the surrounding works.

F lorilegium will next perform at the Nicholas Young Society in Lewes, Sussex, on 26 November. The program then promises to be an innovative exposition of Baroque-era trans-national diffusion of musical ideas and is entitled ‘Les Nations’ and includes works by Couperin, Handel, Bach, Purcell, Vivaldi, Marais, Telemann, and Rebel. We look forward as well to future repeats of their fascinating ‘Six Members of the Bach Family’ program.

I n thinking about the various initiatives that Florilegium have taken recently, a unifying concept seems to be ‘innovation’, broadly conceived. Instead of packaging familiar, excellent repertoire in conventional, “safe” concert offerings, they instead differentiate themselves from other first-rate Baroque ensembles by devising novel thematic programs of less-familiar or totally unfamiliar works. Music as ‘international relations’? ‘Nature vs. Nurture’ among Bachs? How was it for Telemann in Paris? Bolivian Baroque? Yes! More, please!

T he program notes and promotional materials for concerts like these are fabulous. They are razor-sharp and provide fresh, engaging copy for print and broadcast and online media, which in turn makes the promotion more effective for these programs compared to more conventional programs, which in turn gets more people buying tickets and into the seats.

A dditionally, the Friends of Florilegium [patrons association] is vibrant and well-managed. The quarterly newsletter (edited by Dame Emma Kirkby OBE [president] and Sir David Lumsden and David Hill [honorary vice presidents]) is a hoot to read, filled with droll humor and exciting news and other bits.

F lorilegium members, led by Director Ashley Solomon, author some of the contributions to the Friends newsletter, and they are informative and engaging. Thank you for the wonderful ‘Bach Family’ concert at Wigmore, and thank you for the Friends’ excellent example of how to foster sustainable financial growth in support of these fine programs and scholarship!

Č   ičić [Florilegium principal violinis], coming from a musical family, was sent as a child to play the violin and promptly sobbed, ‘I want the piano!’ He also then began tennis lessons; Croatia is well-known for producing some fine champions. Bojan sadly wasn’t to become one of them… Finally, managing to produce a sound [on violin] that would melt icebergs and later woo women, he gave up on tennis. ‘The fees are getting ridiculously expensive,’ was the explanation given by his parents. Et voilá, yet another child plunges headlong towards the uncertain future of a musician… In order to find out more about his repertoire, he left his job as a modern musician in Zagreb, packed his things, and moved to Paris to study early music, speaking no French. Ahh, Paris, the world’s capital of kindness to foreigners, where one is always welcomed with open arms. Bojan had only one option to escape this everyday problem: immerse himself fully into the music he studied, which was mostly French Baroque. Today, he admits this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but, together with a bath and some Prosecco, it’s a jolly good way to relax...”
  —  Profile, Friends of Florilegium Newsletter, Summer 2010.
 Florilegium



Sunday, November 7, 2010

Melvyn Tan: 19th-Century Conceptions of Self and Narrative

 Melvyn Tan, pianist
B    etween 1837 and 1840 Liszt made no fewer than 44 transcriptions of Schubert lieder.”
  —  Derek Watson, p. 45.
T    oday it is less necessary to defend the art of transcription, and arrangements are again part of the accepted repertoire. In the 20th Century the prevailing tendency to condemn them was a symptom of the age of radio, of recording, and of anti-Romanticism.”
  —  Derek Watson, p. 195.
T his was a concert of the choicest winter food, perfect for a cold, dark November London night—the sort of music that beautifully follows a meal of roasted autumn root vegetables, music that you can live off of, music to eat with a fork—the kind of savoury dish that even the most impassive of souls eye with envy when a waiter carries it by. Melvyn Tan gave us lots to contemplate, which we did with gratitude, ensconced in the warmest of red velvet Wigmore Hall seats.

T his program emphasized ‘autobiographical’ and ‘biographical’ narrative qualities, aspects that are a particular strength of Tan’s playing.
  • Schubert – 3 Klavierstücke, D.946
  • Liszt – transcriptions of Schubert: Sei mir gegrüsst, S. 558 No. 1; Auf dem Wasser zu singen, S. 558 No. 2; Du bist die Ruh, S. 558 No. 3; Liebesbotschaft, S. 560 No. 10; Ständchen (Horch, horch! die Lerch), S. 558 No. 9
  • Chopin – Piano Sonata No. 3 in B minor, Op. 58
T he Klavierstücke came in at under 10-min, 11-min, and 5-min durations, the total of them about 1 minute faster than most recent recorded versions. The 4-min, 4-min, 5-min, 3-min, and 3-min durations of the Liszt transcriptions were closer to, say, conventional tempi (of, say, Murray Perahia), but the beauty of Tan’s speed here was the sense of ‘confession’ that it conferred. The overall effect was one of an inspired storyteller, telling sagas of tremendous import with great urgency and pressure-of-speech befitting the excitement and twists and turns of the plot.

T an’s ‘matter-of-fact’ pedaling technique, especially with the prompt releases in the ‘Du bist die Ruh’, added to the strong confessional, diaristic impression of his interpretation.

P laying this entire program from memory lends even more authority to the first-person, omniscient-narratorly effects that Tan conjures up.

I   nevitably, that close and prolonged contact with another composer’s music [leaves] its mark on [one’s] own development—not least on his own Lieder.”
  —  Gerald Larner, program notes, 2010, remarking on the consequences for Liszt of years’ immersion in transcribing/arranging Schubert [consequences that have their parallel, I believe, on immersive performers like Tan].
T he seriousness and tenderness of the Chopin nocturne that Tan played as an encore touched every member of the audience… a wonderful reprise and a fine ending to a truly memorable evening!

 Melvyn Tan, pianist



Nash Ensemble: Beethoven and the Russians

 Nash Ensemble, photo © Hanya Chlala
C    hamber music was considered by more narrowly nationalistic musicians to be too ‘academic’, too ‘Germanic’, to deserve a place in Russian [musical canon] at all. When Borodin started work on the first of his quartets in 1875, he wrote to a friend, referring to the nationalist critic of the time as well as to the leading nationalist composer, that ‘to Stassov’s and Mussorgsky’s horror, I have sketched a string quartet’.”
  —  Anthony Burton, Nash Ensemble program notes, 2010.
M embers of the Nash Ensemble gave a thoroughly compelling performance last night at Wigmore Hall. Stephanie Gonley (vn) was superb, as were David Adams (vn), Lawrence Power (vla), Philip Dukes (vla), Paul Watkins (vc), Alice Neary (vc), mezzo Christine Rice, and pianist Susanna Stranders.

W hat striking sonorities the 2 cellos achieve in the Arensky String Quartet in A minor, Op. 35! I’d never heard this work before (unique for its 1 vn, 1 vla, 2 vc orchestration), but, after hearing Nash members perform it, I can only say that, if you intend to create astounding Elegiosity, go for the 2 cellos!

A rensky composed this unusual piece in 1894 as a memorial to his teacher, Tchaikowsky. This was when Arensky was just 33, a short while after Tchaikowsky’s death. The first movement has all the strings with their mutes on—great to hear in an intimate hall like Wigmore, up-close. The A minor theme is taken from ancient Russian Orthodox sacred music—a setting of some psalm or other. The middle section is in A Major; then the psalm theme again, back to the minor, finishing the movement.

T he second movement is comprised of 7 variations on a children’s song by Tchaikovsky, ‘When Jesus Christ was still a child.’ The elaborateness of the 9 minutes of variations upon variations suggests feverish, obsessive grieving. Then the muted 3-minute coda at the end of this movement evokes ancient Russian chant or possibly other archaic atmospherics that would be primevally familiar to Russians. Poignant ‘leave-taking’ as the Nash’s program notes have it. The emotive material in here is amazingly effective even on the limbic systems of us non-Russians… traps like this do not require ‘bait’ to work.

K   ravitsa rïbachka!
Prav k beregu ladyu
I vïd, I syad so mnoyu,
Day ruku mne svoyu.

Bolovku mne na serdtse
Bez strakha polozhi.
Morskim volnam bespechno
V veryayesha zhe tï.

A serdtse to zhe more:
To buri v nyoem, to tish,
I mnogo perlov chudnïkh
Sokrïto v glubi.

[Lovely bassin’ gal!
Steer your bass boat to this shore;
Come and sit with me;
Give me your hand.

Lay your head right here,
And don’t be afraid.
Trust me just as much as you trust yourself, heh,
Daily, to those waves there.

My heart is like the sea, you betcha:
It can be calm or choppy,
And lots o’ big pearls
Are hidden in them depths.]”
  —  D. Kropotkin, after Heinrich Heine.

T he third movement Andante sostenuto tugs on our heartstrings yet more and is followed by Allegro moderato finale, which has fugal structure and develops the nationalistic Russian hymn ‘Slava Bogu na nebe, Slava’ [Слава Богу, на небе! Слава!] (Glory to God in heaven! Glory!), which is found also in the Allegretto of Beethoven’s Quartet Op. 59 No. 2.

F rom a performer’s point of view, this Arensky Quartet is special in another respect: the ‘dialogical’ interactions between the parts have tremendous symmetry or parity in terms of technical and expressive challenges… All of the parts are exciting all of the time, and, despite this surfeit of interesting material, the pungency of so exceedingly much being said miraculously doesn’t tax the listener or undermine the credibility of the memorial. It’s emotionally ‘over-the-top’ in a quintessentially ‘Russian’ style but it never becomes pastiche. Fantastic!
  • Arensky – String Quartet No. 2 in A minor, Op. 35
  • Borodin – Songs with cello obbligato (Razliubila krasna-devitsa [‘Beautiful girl fell out of love’]; Slushaite, podruzhen'ki, pesenku moiu [‘Listen, my friends, to my song’]; Krasavitsa-rybachka [‘Beautiful fisher-girl’]
  • Tchaikovsky – Night, Op. 73 No.2
  • Rachmaninov –The Ring, Op. 26 No.7; To the Children, Op. 26 No.14
  • Tchaikovsky – Andante Cantabile from String Quartet No. 1 in D, Op. 11
  • Beethoven – String Quintet in C, Op. 29
T his program is one in a series that Nash Ensemble have prepared, illustrating the connections between Beethoven and Russian composers.

C hristine Rice’s account of the Borodin folk songs with Paul Watkins’s cello and Susanna Stranders’s piano was superb, drawing shouts and prolonged raucous applause from the normally-reserved Wigmore Hall audience. Her rich, expressive voice and spell-binding operatic gestures abundantly conveyed the passion and desolation—the authentic ethnic Russian sensibility of these lieder.

 Christine Rice, mezzo-soprano
I t was a surprise to me to learn that the ‘Mighty Five’ or Balakirev group of 19th Century Russian composers took a dim view of ‘chamber music’—they severely criticized Borodin, for example, for engaging in such a diminutive and ‘academic’ genre [see Podlech, link below]. Well, last night—with the ample sound from the Nash members and the exceedingly wide dynamic range that they lent to their interpretation—we experienced a sonorous and strong ‘orchestral’ feel, even in the ‘smaller’ chamber pieces.

C annot help but think that the ‘Mighty Five’ would’ve amended their opinions about chamber idioms had they heard so mighty an ensemble as the Nash. Wow!
W    hen Alexander was 9 years old, Borodin’s mother was seriously alarmed by his chemical experiments, fearing that her house would be set on fire. Not all his experiments were as harmless as his self-made watercolors, which he used for painting. The incendiary bombs he made in the basement were a particular worry for his parents.”
  —  Joachim Podlech.



Saturday, November 6, 2010

Andrejs Osokins: Expressive Shaping of Time

 Andrejs Osokins
A ndrejs Osokins delivered on Friday a sincere and heartfelt account of Bach's Prelude and Fugue in E-flat minor BWV 853 at the Royal Academy of Music in London. The Prelude was played at about mm=40, lentissimo, with a wide expressive palette… more loss-evoking and ‘bereft’ than any performance I’ve previously heard.

H is interpretation is as smooth as can be. The tempi he chooses are somewhat exaggerated, to great expressive effect. Cadences are executed with confidence and strength.

S uch speed! Such brilliant playing of Liszt’s Widmung S.566, Liebestraum No. 2 in E major, and Liebestraum No. 3 in A-flat major! Such imaginative exploring of all possibilities in Debussy’s Prelude No. 6 ‘Des pas sur la neige’ and ‘L'Isle joyeuse’! He has energy and resources to spare! Impressive!

T he expressive timing Osokins applies to his interpretations is superb—the encounter of a sensitive musician with the structure of these pieces. We hear his playing as the ‘effect’ of each composer and the score (the ‘cause’).
  • Bach – Prelude & Fugue No. 8 in E-flat minor BWV 853
  • Liszt – Widmung S.566
  • Liszt – Transcription of Schubert’s ‘Shakespeare Serenade’
  • Liszt – Liebestraum No. 2 in E major
  • Liszt – Liebestraum No. 3 in A-flat major
  • Liszt – Transcription of Wagner’s Liebestod S.447
  • Debussy – Prelude No. 6 ‘Des pas sur la neige’
  • Debussy – L’Isle joyeuse
T here is an ‘average’ tempo to each piece as he plays it, of course, but the ratio between the slowest and the fastest tempi within each is really large—I estimate it to be between 1.6 and 2.0. It is a sort of dramatic ‘modal’ effect—resembling French storytelling? Idiomatic Baltic narrative style, like how his parents or grandparents in Latvia used to speak when he was a kid? A style that aims more for clarity and sound color than for ‘expressivity of timing’ per se?

I n any case, the result is highly personal—not just technically excellent but really convincing, persuasive. Bravo!

O sokins graduated from the Latvian Academy of music in 2007 and since 2008 has been studying in the post-graduate program at the Royal Academy of music, London with Professor Hamish Milne. Osokins was born in 1984. He received the Lillian Davies Prize, won First Prize in the Brant International Piano Competition, Birmingham in 2005, and was joint Second Prize winner in Porto International Piano Competition, Portugal. In 2008, Osokins won First Prize and the Audience Prize in the 5th International J. Vitols Piano Competition, Riga. The same year he was also winner of the Beethoven Intercollegiate Piano Competition in London, as well as Semi-finalist in the Montreal International Music Competition and the Liszt-Bartók International Piano Competition, Budapest. In 2010 he won the Laureate of Koningin Elisabethwedstrijd International Piano Competition, Brussels. He has performed at Wigmore Hall, St. Martin-in-the-Fields, Birmingham Symphony Hall, Drapers Hall, Rachmaninov Hall in Moscow, and as a soloist with orchestras including the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra, Sinfonietta Riga, and the Latvian National Opera Orchestra.

 Andrejs Osokins