Singer-songwriter Jordan Rakei celebrates his move to Decca with a fifth album. There is definitely the sense of a new chapter beginning here, and not just with his record label, for Rakei has recently crossed into his thirties while becoming a father.
Remaining true to his soul roots, he has produced the album himself.
What’s the music like?
This is a heartfelt record, delivered by a songwriter who seems to have reached an extra depth in his work. Jordan Rakei has kept the polish that made his previous albums so good but has added an even more relatable level of emotion and depth.
Songs like Flowers show the emotional lengths he is prepared to go to, while Freedom is a properly uplifting piece of music with gospel choir in tow – surely one of the best new songs we will hear this year. There is a deep vulnerability here, expressed in songs like Forgive, and especially the closing pair Miracle and A Little Life which cuts deep.
The arrangements are beautifully wrought, especially the strings of Hopes And Dreams, another emotional high point – while the lyrics are more to the point than ever, no more so than Royal’s confession that “I’ve royally fucked up”.
Does it all work?
It does. Rakei is a fine and very relatable artist, communicating strongly but with a grace and elegance that stands him in good stead.
Is it recommended?
It is. Five albums in, and Jordan Rakei delivers something of a musical watershed.
abfPeter Herresthal (violin); bMembers of Arctic Philharmonic [Oganes Girunyan, Øyvind Mehus (violins), Natalya Girunyan (viola), Mary Auner (cello), Ingvild Maria Mehus (double bass)]; cdeArctic Philharmonic / Tim Weiss; aBergen Philharmonic Orchestra / James Gaffigan
Mazzoli Dark with Excessive Bright (2021 – versions with string orchestra (a) and string quintet (b)). Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres) (2013)c These Worlds in Us (2021)d Orpheus Undone (2021)e Vespers for Violin (2014)f
BIS BIS-2572 [66’22’’] Producers Jørn Pedersen, Hans Kipfer Engineers Gunnar Herfel Nilsen, Håkan Ekman
Recorded 4 June 2021 (a) at Grieghallen, Bergen; March 2022 at Storman Concert Hall, Bodø
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
BIS issues the first release to be devoted to the orchestral output of Missy Mazzoli (b.1980), New York-based and firmly established among the most significant opera composers of her generation, recorded with a stellar cast of musicians at venues on the west coast of Norway.
What’s the music like?
In his prefatory note, American author Garth Greenwell characterizes Mazzoli’s music thus – ‘‘Each piece is a journey no step of which is forgotten, so one arrives in a place that feels at once familiar and absolutely new’’, which seems a fair description of its audible connection with the past while, at the same time, absorbing accrued influences into an idiom wholly of today. That each of the works bears this out, albeit in different ways and with unpredictable outcomes, says much about the effectiveness of her modus operandi these past two decades.
Earliest here is These Worlds in Us – its title drawn from a poem by James Tate concerning the wartime death of his father, leading to music whose interplay between feelings of pain and elation is abetted by a tightly focussed evolution. An identical duration aside, Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres) could hardly be more removed in its formal corollary to that of the solar system; such abstraction offset by the ‘sinfonia’ connotations with a Medieval hurdy-gurdy whose modal drone, recreated here on an electronic keyboard, underlies the headily increasing velocity of this piece. Nominally the paraphrase of a larger work, Vespers for Violin combines solo violin with an electronic soundtrack where overtones of keyboards, voices and strings subsumed into a texture such as proves at once rarified and evocative.
Framing this release are two versions of the title-track. Having started out as a concerto for double bass and strings, Dark with Excessive Bright was reworked for violin at the request of Peter Herresthal – a quotation from Milton being the catalyst for a piece that refashions Baroque techniques from a present-day vantage, and one which succeeds equally well with orchestral strings or string quintet. Most compelling, though, is Orpheus Undone – a suite whose two movements (respectively 10 and five minutes) open-out that emotional trauma of Eurydice’s death with a methodical while always cumulative inexorability as to suggest that Mazzoli could distinguish herself in the symphonic domain were she to take time-out from that of opera. Certainly, one of the most absorbing orchestral pieces of recent years.
Does it all work?
Pretty much always, though the composer is fortunate to have had such advocacy from the musicians heard here. Herresthal reaffirms his standing as go-to violinist for new music, his playing as subtle and as resourceful as this concerto requires. The much in-demand James Gaffigan gets luminous playing from the Bergen Philharmonic, as does Tim Weiss from the Arctic Philharmonic of whose Sinfonietta he is artistic director. Sound of spaciousness and clarity, along with succinctly informative notes by the composer, are further enhancements.
Is it recommended?
It is, and those suitably drawn into Mazzoli’s sound-world are encouraged to check out other releases – notably the powerful and unsettling opera Proving Up (Pentatone PTC5186754) or the endlessly thought-provoking Vespers for a New Dark Age (New Amsterdam NWAM062).
Fanny Hensel Wenn ich ihn nur habe. Die Schönheit Nicht, Mädchen, Wohl deinem Liebling (all 1820). Der Abendstern. Die sanften Tage, Der Sänger. An die Entfernte (all 1823). Auf der Wanderung. Abschied. Mond. Sehnsucht, HU190 (all 1824-6). Sehnsucht, HU192. Maigesang. Seufzer. An den Mond. An die Ruhe. Sehnsucht, HU203. Sehnsucht, HU205. Umsonst. Suleika (all 1827). Sehnsucht, HU217. Nacht. In der Ferne (all 1828-33). Über allen Gipfeln ist Ruh’. Ach, die Augen sind es wieder. Das Meer Erglänzte. Ich wandelte unter den Bäumen (all 1835-8). Der Fürst vom Berge. Traurige Wege. Dämmrung senkte sich von oben. Traum. Mutter, o sing mich zur Ruh’ (all 1840-44). Erwache Knab’. Vorwurf (both 1846).
Jennifer Parker, Stephanie Wake-Edwards (mezzo-sopranos), Tim Parker-Langston (tenor), Jâms Coleman, Genevieve Ellis, Ewan Gilford (pianos)
First Hand Records FHR148 [82’25’’] German texts and English translations included. Producers and Engineers Tim Parker-Langston, David Jones Recorded 3-8 January 2023 at Mendelssohn-Haus, Leipzig, Germany
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
First Hand Records expands its already enterprising catalogue with this release of Lieder by Fanny Hensel (1805-47) – Felix Mendelssohn’s elder sister – who has recently come into her own not least through her prolific song output, many of which are only now being recorded.
What’s the music like?
Hensel left some 450 individual works, with songs comprising over half this total. A handful of these appeared under her brother’s name, while she had published just three collections of songs and piano pieces at the time of her death: a measure of the extent of her composing is that half of those songs featured here are being recorded for the first time. Covering some 26 years, this selection feels representative of her musical development in terms of its evolving approach to harmony and word-setting, together with the range and type of authors being set.
Although other sequences are perfectly feasible, the decision to proceed chronologically is justified by relative unfamiliarity of Hensel’s songs. Starting with the appealing gaucheness of the Novalis setting If I could only have him, this continues with such relatively ambitious numbers as the Ludwig Uhland ballad The Gentle Days (at almost five minutes the longest item here) or wistful eloquence found in Ludwig Tieck’s Parting. A highlight is her setting of Ludwig Hölty’s May Song, notably the subtle variations of tone and texture drawn from its 12 verses. The songs from the late 1830s include a striking treatment of Heinrich Heine’s I wondered beneath the trees and those from the early 1840s include the sustained intensity found in Nikolaus Lenau’s Sorrowful Paths, which poet’s Reproach is almost her last song.
A good way into Hensel’s songs is through comparing those five items (from a total of nine) all entitled Sehnsucht (Longing) and written during the mid-to later 1820s. First, a setting of Johann Voss which never ventures far from its subdued opening; next, a setting of Hölty that points up this poem’s conflicting images with real acuity, followed with two briefer settings by these poets (that by Hölty the shortest here at barely 50 seconds) such as amply turn such succinctness to expressive advantage and, finally, a poem by Friedrich Märcker whose overt pantheism inspires a setting of gentle profundity. Here, as in almost all these songs, Hensel never forces the issue with regard to ‘interpreting’ the words at hand – rather, her approach is to tease out its meaning through a dialogue between voice and piano in which inference is all.
Does it all work?
Almost always, not least owing to the advocacy of these artists. The lion’s share is entrusted to Tim Parker-Langston (not unreasonably so given his masterminding of this project), whose mellifluous tenor is eminently suited to Hensel’s music. Of the two mezzos, Stephanie Wake-Edwards’s soulful contralto is duly complemented on three numbers with the lighter tone of Jennifer Parker. The 34 songs are divided almost equally between three pianists who, between them, confirm Hensel wrote as idiomatically as any more illustrious peer for this combination.
Is it recommended?
It is, given this release is a significant contribution to the ongoing dissemination of Hensel’s music. The booklet, too, is admirably produced with its succinct introductory note alongside full texts and translations. Those looking for an overview of these songs need look no further.
Rasmus Faber’s first foray into ambient music with classical overtones is made as a collaboration with illustrator Ross Tran (RossDraws), interpreting his book NIMA using electronics and a full orchestra, recorded in Stockholm.
Faber, having become absorbed in the characters and settings of the book, started to think of ways in which he could provide a sonic match for Tran’s artwork. The result is an 18-track album of instrumental pieces.
What’s the music like?
As fresh as a daisy, with the air of someone who has an original voice when writing for orchestra. Faber writes music of pure ambience but manages to avoid cliches, achieving clarity of line but also a wide open sound.
The brightly lit musings take place against this incredibly airy sonic backdrop, as though the listener has been ushered outside in the experience. When you hear the shimmering tremolo strings of Opus it is like being caught in a chill wind, while New Moon has a similarly cold clarity, beautifully orchestrated and realised – with marimbas in the foreground and the strings oscillating softly. Faber has an imaginative ear with orchestration, as the probing cello theme and percussive dialogue of Iris illustrates.
Train To Nimbus establishes the watery sonic picture, its rippling piano set against hazy string chords – but Faber can do stillness too, establishing a far-Eastern setting for Healing Rain and a contemplative place for Lament. Meanwhile Dragon’s Whisper generates a chugging momentum with the strings, as does the urgent Warden, which – like The Apparition – explores an impressive depth as the orchestral sound expands.
The title track is the pinnacle of Faber’s writing, a mass of colour that washes over the listener, slow moving strings complemented by faster moving figures in the middle ground and finished off by piano flourishes.
Does it all work?
It does – the wide open sound is a joy on the home stereo and also on headphones, providing a refreshing experience for the listener.
Is it recommended?
Wholeheartedly. Rasmus Faber has achieved something special here, and it is to be hoped this is the first of many excursions into orchestral music. He has a sound painter’s ear, and makes music not just to soothe the fevered brow but to energise it too.
For fans of… Thomas Newman, Michael Nyman, Penguin Cafe Orchestra
Weill Die sieben Todsünden (1933) Die Dreigroschenoper – Suite, arr. Schönherr (1928, arr. 1956) Suite panaméenne (1934) September Song (1938) Surabaya-Johnny (1929)
Serena Wey (soprano), Martin Müller, Werner Güra (tenors), Othmar Sturm (baritone), Grzegorz Rózycki (bass), Basel Sinfonietta / Mark Fitz-Gerald
First Hand Records FHR140 [65’48’’] German texts included. Producer Philipp Steiner Remastering Engineer John Croft Recorded 3 February 1991 and 5 September 1993 (Suite panaméenne) at Stadtcasino, Basel
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
First Hand Records continues its series of reissues with this appealing collection of music by Kurt Weill, capably performed by the Basel Sinfonietta and judiciously conducted by Mark Fitz-Gerald, who has since become synonymous with recreating Shostakovich’s film scores.
What’s the music like?
The main work is The Seven Deadly Sins, the ‘ballet chanté’ Weill wrote in Paris after having departed Berlin in the wake of Nazi rule and which was his final collaboration with Berthold Brecht. Written as a vehicle for his wife Lotta Lenya this found only limited success, though its conceit of the main role being split between singer and dancer was to prove influential on later generations of dramaturgs. Serena Wey captures the spirit of Anna in her journey from innocence to experience over each of those sins, their respective settings in seven American cities pointing up that critique of Capitalism which Brecht and (still at this time) Weill were intent on making. The four male vocalists ably convey the role of ‘The Family’, somewhere between Greek Chorus and Barbershop Quartet in its pertinent observations and occasional tendency to moralize. Often revived with its main role transposed to the mezzo register, the piece benefits from being heard as it was conceived and, had it been issued at the time, this account would have been early in establishing an authentic ‘tradition’ of Weill performance.
Suites derived from two of Weill’s other stage-works are further enhancements, even if that from The Threepenny Opera is not the one he himself adapted – rather, a truncated selection by Max Schönherr (1903-84), a composer and conductor of light music whose arrangement for full orchestra is expert rather than inspired but features most of the items for which this ‘play with music’ remains famous. More valuable, though, is the Panamanian Suite drawn from incidental music to the play by Jacques Deval that takes in a breezy Introduction and uproarious March of the Panamanian Army alongside the pert fusion of Tango-Habañera and no less catchy Tempo di Foxtrot – this suite echoing the masterly and still underrated Second Symphony from the same time in its deft irony and edgy melodicism. Of those two songs which round off this release, September Song (Knickerbocker Holiday) sounds oddly uninvolving in German, despite Martin Müller’s mellifluous delivery, but Surabaya-Johnny (Happy End) leaves a plangent spell even out of context through Wey’s affecting eloquence.
Does it all work?
Pretty much. As already indicated, the performances are never less than idiomatic thanks to Fitz-Gerald’s evident sympathy with Weill’s subtle changing idiom and committed playing from the Basel musicians. The sound is a little dull and unyielding, though the remastering has clearly done much to improve it, with Rodney Smith’s succinct and informative notes a welcome addition. A pity that only the original German texts have been included here, but English translations can be found online while the presentation cannot otherwise be faulted.
Is it recommended?
Indeed, and as more than merely an archival release. The performance of the main work can hold its own with most of those which choose the original version, and it is to be hoped that more instances of Fitz-Gerald’s Basel collaborations from this period can be made available.
Arcana.fm 