Biber: Sonatas from the Kremsier Archive

Biber: Violin Sonatas performed by Anton Steck et al., on CPO.

Yes, I am a Fan of Biber. But my interaction with Biber’s music came long after I “found” my niche in the baroque. Ever since, I’ve been looking for good recordings and some are obviously better than others. Steck and company play my style, with some verve and “guts.” Even a little sex thrown in, if you get imaginative.

First, I must report that the recorded sound quality begs for something better: the sound is a tad thin. It’s not the players, it’s the recording.. thin and distant. My guess is they used microphones that I don’t care for.

So, with that major disappointment aside, the music… interpretation is mostly agreeable. The most famous work, the first track from Biber’s 1681 collection, shows-off what’s here to love and perhaps not (love). Three continuo players make for variety. Steck plays with verve and soul, however the plucked continuo sometimes almost sounds like a child’s instrument is being used. Yes, the recording suffers that badly. As we progress through the CD, however, the sound warms up.

The depth of nuance Steck plays with reminds me of the MAK recording of Die Kunst der Fuge by Bach… the dynamics just aren’t off/on, they are manifest through swells in line and energy, that seems at once organic, if not at times, rushed. The remainder of Biber’s works are less well-known, and then they tack-on the infamous Muffat sonata.

Annoyances? Steck sometimes uses a rather fast vibrato as a ornament. I don’t care for its speed. Sometimes Rieger adjusts the harpsichord to a lute stop… something in my head tells me Biber et al. weren’t doing this. Eh. Sometimes, you don’t need all 3 continuo players. Sometimes it’s nice to have one on one sonata, a couple on another. Variety is the spice of life. Spice doesn’t overwhelm when used in moderation.

Complaints aside, I enjoy this recording. More Biber, the better. And it’s here in the hands of sympathetic musicians who (as in the Biber D-major ciconna) know how to impress with technique.

Then there’s that Muffat sonata. It’s nice and all, but I’ve grown tired of it. Steck plays with considerable warmth (in part with a lusty-sounding instrument, and in another, way with an intense vibrato). The recording would only have been better with more “warmth” in the sound. Rieger and Steck are dead-on with one another in this work, but take the enharmonic progression carefully. Probably better traversed than Holloway in his two readings, but then there’s that creepy fast vibrato creeping in.

In all, this is not a perfect disc, and I can’t recommend it without some reservations. If you have SACD, it’s a hybrid disc that perhaps sounds better in SACD. Second, some areas feel rushed. Steck plays impeccably when it’s fast… but breathing room here and there would be welcome. The music is certainly inventive and affective. It’s an honest recording, one that would have been golden with a better recording.

Concert Review: AAM with Egarr

I recently attended a concert with the Academy of Ancient Music under the direction of Richard Egarr, harpsichord.

They appeared along their U.S. tour in Portsmouth, VA, playing a concert of “favorites”: Handel, Telemann, and Bach. Water Music, Brandenburg 4, and a flute concerto by Telemann. In fact, all the music is on record here at home… it was nice to judge the group based on “favorites.”

Egarr has quite a personality, and a dry wit with the audience. The playing space, Trinity Church, was too small for them, and warm. And despite the weather and humidity, they maintained excellent intonation for the duration of the concert.

This is not “your father’s AAM” anymore… this is a new group… well, their style is. More on the edge, like Il giardino armonico, than say, the AAM. They play with energy and fun, and I enjoyed the overall effort by the musicians. Some of the members have been around a long time: Beckett on recorder, Jones on viola, and Beznosuik on violin. Young faces and older together made great music.

They stayed at my hotel. In fact, I recognized Pavlo Beznosuik on the dockside area in Portsmouth before the concert… I should have said something. Hoping to get a signature on a CD by Egarr after the show, I hung around the hotel lobby. One by one, the Academy of Ancient Music walked by me, carrying their instruments… Bill Carter with his theorbo, Rachel Beckett with her flutes, Joe Crouch with his cello… Egarr never came back while I waited. Then, one by one, they walked about out, supposedly for dinner, in less formal clothing.

I didn’t think much of Portsmouth… I can only wonder what their reaction was.

Among their best pieces of the evening was a closing encore of Handel from op. 3, and the Telemann Wassermusik suite. It was all good, but these stuck out. With new blood and energy at the helm, they’re once again to be listened to… I think I will check out their Handel CD. None were for sale after the concert.

Update: I should add that Trevor Jones, the violist, looks very much like the comedian, Larry David. And the lutenist, William Carter, very much looks like our friend, Greg. And–I added two photos of the venue for the concert from my cell phone.

Amplifier Burn-In

This Friday I took ownership of some new audio equipment. On the very same day I put to use three new pieces of equipment in my “main” listening room downstairs.

• RCA Interconnects (from DAC to preamplifier)
• Monoblock amplifiers
• preamplifier unit

Comparing the “old” stereo to “new” is therefore difficult. Where do the changes in sound belong? So many things are “new.” And when can I honestly begin listening to discern the differences? With so many folks talking about burn-in of components, from the cables to the amplifier, what’s a proper burn-in time?

I frequently come across two figures when I am reading about burn-in. Take a typical review. To wit:

Before listening, I let the equipment burn-in for xx *hours, and then I wanted to see what these guys could do…”

Well, I hooked everything up. The two new components for me were the cables. I’ve read that cables can take 100 hours to burn-in. In that case, we’re not there yet. And to burn-in, per se, it means that electricity is going through them. I don’t recommend routing current, but instead, pushing audio through them. Follow the arrows, too, there’s a one-way path. I have no idea why. In fact, I suspect when getting cables, the direction doesn’t matter. It’s just over continued use, you should follow one direction. I could be completely wrong. But I’m a good boy, and follow the direction of the arrows on the cables.

Amplifiers? 30 minimum. 40 hours seems to be a better consensus, but then again, I’ve also seens 60 and 80 hours. And for tubes, well, that’s another ball game.

Since plugging in stuff Friday afternoon, and now listening Monday morning before work, there are definitely some changes in what I’ve been hearing.

First-impressions, no burn-in.

• When things are powered up, with no music, I hear dead silence. Turn up the volume in the past, and you could hear “noise” in the background. Nice.
• More bass. Bloomy, too loud bass.
• Laid-back. Middle-section seemed “pushed in,” if we were listening to a graph.
• Much darker sound.
• A softer, smoother sound… but so much so it wasn’t desirable. Where had the “crisp” digital sound of my Rotel Integrated Amp gone?

Next, what kind of data do you send the system for burn in? I know they make special CDs for this purpose, invariably the question should be asked: variety? Loud symphonic stuff? Will one type of music throughout only “tune” the system for that?

I read that someone elsewhere in an audio forum asked whether you needed the whole system on? In other words, did you need to hear the stereo for burn-in to take place. Yes. But then another question of mine was unanswered: Does it matter at what volume we do the burn-in?

If I’m running this all day and night, and I want to sleep, it cannot be too loud. I raised the volume in the day, then, and turned it down at night. First night, it got a dose of Baroque orchestral and chamber music. Second night, it got symphonic music by Tan Dun. Third night, it got the night off.

And so here we are today. Impressions with some burn-in, approaching 35 hours (around or about, maybe 40):

• Still quiet when turned-on
• Z-axis depth of sound. I had always heard what I term “x axis” in the so-called sound-stage. Now I hear z-axis (front/back).
• much more bass. It’s now a bit more controlled. After more burn-in, I may tame it with the port plugs for my speakers.
• Warmer sound (in a very pleasant way), more “liquid” sound… musical? mellow… that’s the right word. If the sound before on my old equipment was digital, this is a little smoother and far easier on the ears. Now, I’m getting more music. Never would have imagined this quality change before.
• More power. Going from 60 to 100 watts… more power.

After some more burn-in, testing, and adjustment, I’ll publish more details on the new system.

Genius you can hear, genius you can read

Tonight while listening to music, I came across a thought in my head:

There must be at least two types of compositional genius: one that you can see by reading notes off the page, and the other, what you can’t recognize on the page, but only feel.

Take Bach’s invention #9 in F minor. You can see some motives skip between the staves, and think “ah, clever, some counterpoint. Yes, there is evidence of some real artistry here.”

To a much more gross level, sticking with Bach, we might look at the contrapuntal complexity in his various contrapuncti from Art of the Fugue. That’s genius you can read on the page.

However, when I performed the ninth invention, I didn’t play it anything like Kenneth Gilbert, or like Masaaki Suzuki do on their recordings. With the enhancement of a sequencer, my performance is faster, but the emphasis is on what I might call “microdetails” in the lines and themes, in some sort of style similar to perhaps Fabio Biondi, with his accents and dynamic nuances added beyond what’s read off the page.

My performance feels especially good. It’s not me, the genius. These are qualities already in the music Bach wrote.

I feel the best performances realize both the feel and the page genius. Too many great songs being played on radios today have the appeal of feel, however, and no artistry of what’s on the page. That is what I think makes Bach unique… he had both, more often than not.

Following a Score

I realize some readers are musicians, others are not. You don’t have to read music, or play an instrument, or even sing well, to enjoy music.

Although, I do believe some of your best musical experiences do come from performance.

With that said, How do you listen to music? The answer is of (research) interest to me, but I know I’ve asked the question before. Some I suspect fall somewhere in one of these camps:

• Listen with eyes closed, no distractions
• Listen reading: book, web, magazine, CD liner notes
• Listen following a score
• Listen to music as background music

I personally have done all four; I find my favorites are the “no distractions” mode and the “with a score” mode.

Funny thing is, CDs do not come with the conductor’s score, do they?

That’s why a find like the Icking Music Archive is a real find. Here I can follow Vivaldi’s La Follia trio sonata, a Bach Cantata, or a Biber sonata note by note. Many of these are so-called Urtext editions, meaning they don’t have an editor’s interpretation written over the notes.

What I find valuable is seeing what the performers do in the way of improvisation.

If you don’t normally follow a score, you certainly should try… you’ll gain a lot more respect for the performers and their challenges.

Joshua Bell in Washington, D.C.

What happens when you place one of the world’s best violinists in a subway?

Read the Washington Post article to find out.

I found this article fascinating. It’s a long one, but a great read. It’s only enhanced through the video clips.

A Delicious Bite

Impatience has me searching of late for single tracks that have maximum punch.

I look for tracks to listen to that have that “delicious bite,” like a refreshing cool breeze, a warm touch, or that quality that ensures a calm, wide grin to appear across your face.

One of my more favorite ones comes from Monica Huggett’s recording of the Biber Mystery Sonatas, first disc, to be precise. First track, in fact. Towards the end, the continuo strikes this nice lusty, sweet chord, and it lights a bloom in the room (no rhyme intended) that simply sounds awesome.

It lasts for like a second. But that sound bite is delicious, for sure.