At the end of September we heard of the sad death of pioneering Sri Lankan / British cellist Rohan de Saram, at the age of 85.
As this obituary in the Strad indicates, de Saram was a key figure in contemporary music, holding the position of cellist with the Arditti Quartet from 1979 until 2005, as well as premiering a number of new solo works. The short playlist below gives an indication of his solo recordings, from a cycle of Bach suites to work by Dallapiccola:
published by Ben Hogwood, text taken from the Soul Jazz website
Soul Jazz Records’ new collection, Electro Throwdown – Sci-Fi Inter-Planetary Electro Attack on Planet Earth 1982-89, is described as “a journey into the outer reaches of electro, a galactic roller-coaster ride of turbo-charged sci-fi grooveology.”
The album is comprised of mainly private-press and independent label electro jams of the highest calibre (with some as rare as space ships landing on Mars) all created in the 1980s, at a time when a vocoder, a Roland TR-808 drum machine and a groove was all that was needed to get the party started.
With a few notable exceptions (Michael Jonzun’s Jonzun Crew and The Packman) the album features mainly under-the-radar killer tracks from a host of one-off artists and back-room electronic pioneers – including Pretty Tony, Planet Detroit (James McCauley, aka Maggotron) and Rich Cason – who together helped shape the sound of electro across the USA from Miami to New York, Los Angeles and beyond during the 1980s.
This album is released on super-loud double vinyl, packaged in gatefold sleeve complete with full sleeve notes (from Derek Walmsley of The Wire), plus download code and digital. For more information visit the Sounds of the Universe website
After seven years of solo work, Neil Cowley has reunited with his trio. The motivation was a need for ‘connection’ in the digital age, for while Cowley has enjoyed a good deal of success in his solo ventures, collaborating with the likes of Ben Lukas Boysen, Maribou State and Rival Consoles, he missed the personal and musical synchronization with his partners, bassist Rex Horan and drummer Evan Jenkins.
Their live reunion in June was met with great acclaim – but Entity is the result of a week-long studio reunion. Cowley prepared for this with pre recorded synth and drum parts to play along too, but those were soon jettisoned, in the name of what he describes as ‘some kind of human push back’.
The week-long session took place at Real World, with production from Ethan Johns.
What’s the music like?
Instinctive and vibrant, just as Cowley would surely have wanted. The musicianship here is remarkable, but all the more satisfying for the chemistry between the members of the trio, who know when to press forward musically but also – crucially – when to pull back and allow room for development.
Cowley’s flowing piano in V&A is particularly beautiful, as it is on Shoot – where Horan and Jenkins add especially persuasive rhythms. Marble begins in serene fashion, an example of how Cowley can bring stately phrasing to his piano work – while at other times it becomes humourous and mischievous.
Father Daughter has a distinctive melody that sticks, while Brood and Photo Box are more conversational, the latter on a more intimate scale. Meanwhile the playful Adam Alphabet, with a lithe rhythm section, is irresistible.
Does it all work?
It does – and joyously so. Sometimes reducing the time you have in the studio brings positive results, and that is definitely the case here – for the innate understanding between Cowley, Horan and Jenkins is clear.
Is it recommended?
It is – no need to hesitate if you have bought the trio’s previous albums, and equally a great place to start if you’re new or know Cowley through his solo work. A timely reminder that while technology is great for music, you can’t beat human interaction.
For fans of… GoGo Penguin, Portico Quartet, Tord Gustavsen Trio
Expecting the unexpected is the most predictable aspect of a recital from Piotr Anderszewski, tonight’s programme no exception in its juxtaposing collection by Beethoven and Bartók with a selection from Brahms and music by Bach that has long been a cornerstone of his repertoire.
Alive to their iconoclastic flourishes and improvisatory asides, Beethoven’s last bagatelles yet emerged as a cohesive and integrated unity as it ventured through limpid musing and angular playfulness then disarming elegance before arriving at a propulsive take on the B minor Presto muscular or energetic by turns. The final two numbers were of a piece with what went before – the one understated and the other’s ingratiation bookended by outbursts of grating humour. Nothing to be taken for granted in this music, then, as Anderszewski intimated only too well.
Although published as four separate collections, there is no reason why Brahms’s late piano pieces cannot be given separately or in autonomous groupings as here. Starting with Op. 119, Anderszewski brought a confiding touch to the plaintive B minor Intermezzo and rendered the lilting syncopation of that in C with real playfulness. Turning next to Op. 118 and the forlorn quality of its A minor Intermezzo complemented ably that in A, whose new-found popularity need not detract from its harmonic subtlety or soulful poise. From Op. 117, the B flat minor Intermezzo struck note of ingrained fatalism intensified by that in E flat minor from Op. 118 – its ‘mesto’ marking here underlined as the music unfolded toward an endpoint of unforced resignation. Anderszewski looked regretful it should end so before duly leaving the platform.
As his recent recording confirms, Anderszewski has forged unerring identity with the Op. 6 Bagatelles where Bartók gave notice of his fast-emerging individuality. Played with minimal pauses (albeit with a 3-3-2-2-2-2 grouping such as brought these into line with the six pieces in each of those other sets), they offer a conspectus of possibilities over his ensuing creative decade that was to the fore here, alongside a cumulative focus evident less in any increasing technical demands as in a gradual opening-out of their emotional world made explicit in the final two numbers as doubtless stems from Bartók’s unrequited love for violinist Stefi Geyer. Thus, the sombre restlessness of Elle est morte merged directly into the valse Ma mie qui danse – this latter’s vicious irony maintained right through to its almost dismissive pay-off.
Had Bach ever entertained any such feelings, they were certainly far removed from the keen objectivity of his First Partita. A little restive in its Praeludium, Anderszewski hit his stride in its gently eddying Allemande then animated Courante. There was no lack of gravitas in its Sarabande, but this was as deftly inflected as was the elegance of its contrasted Menuet dances, then the Gigue made a dextrous yet assertive conclusion to a sequence where (as in everything heard tonight) what was made possible outweighs what had already been achieved.
It would have been possible to combine these works with other pieces – maybe some or even all of Ligeti’s Musica ricercata that Anderszewski will hopefully play at a future recital. For now, a limpid reading of Chopin’s Mazurka in A flat major (Op.58/2) made for an ideal envoi.
To read more on Piotr Anderszewski, visit his website
Kelly Lee Owens today releases Ballad (In The End) – the latest offering from her forthcoming album Dreamstate.
Co-written and co-produced by Tom Rowlands from The Chemical Brothers, it opens with tender piano chords, gradually building into a chorus of soft vocals and shimmering synths. It is a complement to the exceptional previous single Higher, as well as Sunshine and Love You Got, all of which will feature on Dreamstate, Owens’ fourth studio album, which will be released Friday 18 October via dh2:
Arcana.fm 