You Are, Variations

I’ve been listening to the album of two works by Steve Reich: You Are Wherever Your Thoughts Are, and his Cello Counterpoint.

Grant Gershon leads the Los Angeles Master Chorale and musicians. For scoring, Reich has used minimal strings, pianos, marimbas, and of course, voices. The composer says (from the interview, linked above) that he was after some of his earlier works in terms of getting back to the “fun” of composing, citing Desert Music and Tehillim as points of inspiration.

The reviews on Amazon are interesting: some are rather ebullient with five stars, other folks don’t like this release. It seems hot or cold, not unlike people’s reaction to Reich in general. Of all the music I play, my partner can’t really stand “Reich.” “Oh that stuff, I don’t like it… how can you listen to it?”

I find Reich’s music hypnotic and modern, it’s sound in motion. Like Ravel’s Bolero, it grows over time, and the music in some ways is less predicable than Bolero, yet, it’s far more texturally-interesting. The juxtaposition of the percussive sounds is an intoxicating sound, one that I explored myself in a work scored for ten pianos. Like Reich, I turned to digital technologies to make my piece. In the You Are variations, Reich takes away the use of taped loops or sequencers and makes an “acoustic” piece that is only aided by amplification of the individual voices.

I bought the recording for the ultimate work: Cello Counterpoint. I had a hunch, but no real confirmation, that I heard this piece “live.” At one of the NECC conferences I attended (Atlanta, perhaps), they opened one general session with a live cellist playing music. She was playing against a moving backdrop, which was apropos for Reich’s music. It was wonderful, delicious music. To this day, I can’t tell you if this was the piece, but I would wager in favor of it being it. The cellist plays against recorded tracks of him or herself.

Like You Are, Reich’s music presents performance challenges. While the music may sound mechanical or meditative, there’s a skill to playing those patterns. I can’t say that I see the textual references realized in Reich’s work here… but I found the interview telling in some of his thoughts. For me, the music speaks to me well enough without interpreting the text. It’s pure texture to me, in much the same way Tehillim was. Since buying this album as a digital download, I don’t even have the liner notes with the texts available to me as I listen.

Some folks would call foul here, noting the importance of the text towards understanding a piece of music. While I cannot disagree, I also would posit that a lot can be enjoyed from music without the text. I grew up during the 1980s listening to pop music which I more often than not missed the words completely… they were sounds amid one or two recognizable sounds, here or there. You could say I didn’t sing along terribly much. And that’s how I hear Reich’s music.

You Are’s biggest asset perhaps is its palatable length. It doesn’t go overboard in terms of length. There are four main sections before we get, on the album, the 11-minute cello piece.

There’s much to like here if you’re a fan of Steve Reich. This album might also be a great introduction. For the novice to his music, I might proffer letting the sound wash over you first. Upon repeated listenings, you’ll notice the complexity of how the textures and patterns “fit” together (or do not). It’s this interweaving detail that reveals Reich’s music like a tapestry, one that reveals itself to you over time, with patience and our joy and capacity to hear.

Bach Project

Some interesting videos on Zenph Studios’ Bach project.

Pierre Hantaï performs Bach’s Le Clavier bien tempéré

Bach wrote two collections of keyboard pieces around the same construction: prelude and fugue, in each key, major and minor. He seemed to choose this design not only to show off his invention, but also to challenge the tuning system of the time to accommodate his chromatic ascent up the scale(s).

They are respectfully called The Well-Tempered Clavier, and today we refer to the first collection as “book one,” and you guessed it, the second as “book two.” Some of the preludes resemble the light 2-part inventions, not to mention a few of the fugues. However, the music in these collections is a couple steps more complex and (consequently) richer.

The collection has stayed in the “repertoire” or canon since Bach’s time, being celebrated by such famous composer/pianists as Beethoven and Chopin. Like much of Bach’s music, these pieces are rich and compact, frugal perhaps, but also enduring.

It’s been several years now since harpsichordist Pierre Hantaï recorded the WTC 1 on Mirare. Enthusiasts of this music today have many choices, this being a popular piece. I have enjoyed this on both piano and harpsichord, with one favorite being the piano rendition by Frederich Gulda. Hantaï is not nearly as eclectic a performer as the late Mr. Gulda nor Mr. Glenn Gould. Come to think of it, I have never heard such eclectic interpretations on the harpsichord.

What makes Hantaï’s recording a winner is a combination of factors. First, just as the sound of a piano can differ, harpsichords too have different sound qualities. This is a delicious instrument, sounding practically like a strong clavichord at times, with that richness. It’s almost got a quality we could say was “fruity.” Second, the sound recording is first rate, clear as a bell, even if we might occasionally hear Hantaï breath.

His performance is also not mono-stylstic (i.e., it’s not all fast, or all cautiously slow). He takes each piece on its own, giving it a choice of tempo and pulse that always seems spot-on. Sometimes it’s easy to miss the extra notes peppered-in as ornaments, but they’re there. He will pause at times to make a gesture, but more often than not, he can hold a regular beat, just shy of sounding like a machine. Doing so here is a mark of virtuosity.

Hantaï has plenty of experience with ensemble music and meeting the challenges of Bach’s solo keyboard works. This recording shows off his talents with this material. That said, I sometimes preferred my more mannered recordings when I want to dip my toe into some WTC. This is not a criticism however, it’s more commentary on my own preferences. His role here is to authentically produce this work of Bach within the sound world germane to Bach. Over emphasizing something, applying extreme rubato, or adding to the text like some pianists can do would be against Hantaï’s mantra here. He is wise to stay clear of these temptations, the opportunities great in a work of such depth amid a seemingly simple context.

To recap: sensible interpretation with a delicious-sounding harpsichord. Enough tracks show off Hantaï’s finger dexterity and sense of adventure. As a counterpoint, Hanaï is also sensitive to the character of each piece so that each one isn’t just finger fireworks. This may be a recording you choose to listen to in smaller chunks or in small tasty bites. Coupled with other recordings, this will likely add value (and satisfaction) towards your enjoyment of the first installment of Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier.

To date, I have not see a Volume 2 published.

Jean-Marie Leclair: Sonatas

La Tempesta (Patrick Bismuth) records the fourth book of sonatas by Leclair. As I wrote earlier, I’m a fan of Leclair’s style and the richness, too, of some of his works. While my reception to the CD by John Holloway was fair, I have a far more enthusiastic reaction to that of Mr. Bismuth.

First, this recording was difficult to procure. I had to purchase it in France. It’s a 3-CD set, actually, and is well-recorded. There’s a very distinct separation of the channels, with the violin on the right. Both Bismuth and his ensemble (but especially him) are not just playing the music: they’re living it through an interpretation that both highlights the virtuosity of the music and the emotional depth within. A lot of music doesn’t exactly ooze emotion, you have to find it. You project, pull, and highlight those elements which especially speak to the listener. Much like the gestures we use in voice, the simple combination of soloist against continuo requires the performers to sometimes independently, but also sometimes collectively infuse their “reaction” of the music. It comes, perhaps, with practice… knowing what the lines and harmony are doing, or what’s coming up, and how to project that. Bismuth is doing an excellent job in this recording finding what makes each movement special.

One of his more expressive gestures is the use (or absence) of vibrato. It plays deeply into his “sound,” but can also add a dramatic richness to his timbre. His instrument I feel is thin sounding (on account of the strings) but has a very nice sound. At times, when vibrato is applied, it’s sweet; other times it’s penetrating and rustic. It’s weakest in the lower register, but sings and sparkles with the higher notes.

A variety of continuo is used, usually with a combination of instruments, including cello, bass lute, and organ. As with many collections like this, I like the variety of continuo. All together this is a strong set, full of many ideas penned by Leclair. You probably wouldn’t want to listen to the entire collection from cover to cover, on account to the stylistic similarities and the strength of the dramatic performances. Under La Tempesta, you long to savor each work on its own.

I should add that one sonata is performed on flute. Leclair listed it as an alternate soloists.

This collection, perhaps than others collectively by Leclair, speaks to his strengths as a composer-violinist. The performers here match the call with variety of expressive means that excite the listener and showcase the music’s appeal with a variety of invention and showy virtuosity.

Recommended to all fans of baroque violin repertoire.

Holloway – Jean Marie Leclair

John Holloway performs sonatas for violin by Jean-Marie Leclair with Lars Ulrik Mortensen and Jaap ter Linden.

I’ve become a fan of late of the music of Leclair, a French composer most famous for being murdered. His music took on a rather continental style. He published a number of sonatas for his instrument, the violin, plus a number of violin concertos, some of which, are quite challenging.

This is the sixth installment by Holloway on ECM New Series, one he has steadfastly done with Lars Ulrik Mortensen. He previously had Mr. Mortensen perform on harpsichord simultaneously with his wife on organ. If memory serves correct, this is the second album since she passed; the last one of Veracini was also with the same continuo team.

A reviewer on Amazon described Holloway’s tone as “smoky,” and that term somehow fits. (Describing the tone of a violin requires quite an exercise in creativity, not unlike trying to describe the flavors one encounters in a glass of wine.) I never thought his violin’s sound was his best trait.

There are moments of spirit in this recording, such as track 18, an allegro movement from the B-flat sonata.

As usual, Holloway plays with excellent intonation and then my usual criticisms creep in: at times the tempi are not quite energetic enough–you get the sense that the tempo chosen is good, but not perfect… great for rehearsing, but in a live performance, folks might just push it a little further? Tracks like #19, from the same B-flat sonata, just fall flat, short of boring. Neither performer in the 3-man ensemble takes the liberty to adjust dynamics terribly much, and I simply don’t read a terribly deep emotional deposit in the performance.

A better example of what the trio is capable of is in track #10, an allegro from the sonata in A major. Dynamic shading is “in the house,” and the tempo is lock-on appropriate. It isn’t Leclair’s best writing, but it’s well played.

I have found the readings of Leclair sonatas by François Fernandez and Patrick Bismuth are ultimately more musically satisfying. Where I didn’t care for the overly “wet” acoustic in Holloway’s solo Bach, the recording this time around is far more complimentary to the musicians. I’d simply love the recording more if it had a darkness at appropriate moments, one which Andrew Manze managed to find in his reading of Frenchman Jean-Féry Rebel. If you’ve been a fan of the other Holloway recordings on ECM (or elsewhere before his association with the label), you might just then like this recording.

I’d start first with the others mentioned. Like the Veracini album before it, this one simply comes up a tad short on energy and spirit in all the right places.