Junior Sanchez is something of an unsung star in the world of house music, making quality productions since the 1990s and collaborating with the likes of Daft Punk, DJ Sneak and Roger Sanchez – to name just a few.
Collaboration is the name of the game this time around, too, with a host of vocalists lending their pipes to a set of songs the New Jersey DJ began during lockdown. The project has executive production from Dallas Austin, marshalling the eight guest singers into a set of productions compressed into radio edits and aimed squarely at the dancefloor.
What’s the music like?
Sanchez has struck gold here, his craft evident in all nine of the grooves on show – and with a series of superb, floor filling beats.
The album sets out its stall with So Hype, its deeper beats topped by excellent vocals from Mýa, and sets the listener down in a heap some 40 minutes later having danced and sung themselves to a standstill. This is thanks to songs like Higher, where Dawn Richard gets higher than anyone else to deliver a brilliant and catchy song.
Drip is enjoyably saucy, with lots going on in the company of Johnny Apollo and Cookiee Kawaii, while I Need More – with the brilliant Darlene McCoy – is a bouncy number. Sanchez uses solid four to the floor beats throughout, each lifted by fluid bass lines and quality house music production.
Does it all work?
It does. The quality level barely lets up, partly because of Sanchez’s skilful use of guests – and each voice brings a fresh perspective to his music.
Is it recommended?
Enthusiastically. Sanchez deserves a great deal of kudos for this album, which reinforces his credentials as one of the leading lights in house music. Great songs, brilliantly executed.
For fans of… Luke Solomon, Purple Disco Machine, Tensnake, The Juan Maclean
Kaprálová Military Sinfonietta Op.11 (1937) [Proms Premiere] Dvořák (ed. Kurz) Piano Concerto in G minor Op.33 (1876) Janáček Glagolitic Mass (1926-8)
Mao Fujita (piano); Corinne Winters (soprano), Vella Adamova (mezzo-soprano), David Butt Philip (tenor), Brindley Sharratt (bass), Christian Schmitt (organ), Prague Philharmonic Choir (choir-master Lukáš Vasilek), Czech Philharmonic Orchestra / Jakub Hrůša
Royal Albert Hall, London Wednesday 28 August 2024
reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) Andy Paradise
Their previous Prom having set the bar high as regards playing or interpretation, Jakub Hrůša and the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra equalled and maybe even exceeded it with a programme which once more ranged widely over what might be thought the ‘golden age’ of Czech music.
The career of Vítězslava Kaprálová (1915-40) represents one of those great ‘what ifs’ in 20th century music and works such as Military Sinfonietta confirm her already distinctive idiom. Despite involvement with Martinů, this is redolent more of interwar French music – notably Roussel – in its alternating between the extrovert and the ruminative; relative extremes held in check by ingenious adaptation of the four-movements-in-one design that draws maximum variety from its material while sustaining a cumulative momentum through to a return of the main theme for a powerful but never bombastic apotheosis. The CPO certainly relished these strongly drawn expressive contrasts, and Hrůša kept it on a tight though never inflexible rein with the sizable groups of woodwind and brass duly given their collective head at the close.
Although it has come in from cold over recent decades, Dvořák’s Piano Concerto remains an anomaly – akin to one Mendelssohn or Chopin might have written had they lived into the mid -Romantic era. Numerous pianists have returned to the demanding if unidiomatic solo part as its composer left it, but Mao Fujita (above) opted for that edited by pianist Vilém Kurz which enjoyed favour across much of the last century. Musically the piece remains much the same – opening with an extensive Allegro trenchant and yielding, but with surprisingly little of a Czech tinge to its melodic or rhythmic content. Fujita delivered a confident traversal, then brought limpid poetry to the Andante with Hrůša’s accompaniment of the subtlest. They duly made the most of the final Allegro’s driving impetus and soulful poise, prior to its lively and decisive close.
Despite early advocacy from Henry Wood, Janáček’s Glagolitic Mass only established itself at the Proms half a century after the composer’s death. Recent seasons have brought varying versions of what Janáček (might have) intended, but Hrůša chose the standard edition with a reading of blazing conviction right from the stentorian brass of its ‘Introduction’. Compact in size but forthright in tone, the Prague Philharmonic Choir brought pathos to the ‘Kyrie’ then fervency to the ‘Gloria’ with Corinne Winters and David Butt Philip fearless in their response.
More than usually a fulcrum around which this work revolves, the ‘Credo’ evinced an almost narrative dimension in its journey via speculation and ambiguity to a conclusion – typified by Brindley Sherratt’s eloquence – of radiant certainty. This carried over into the ‘Sanctus’ both sensuous and capricious, Bella Adamova making the most of her ensemble contribution here then in the ‘Agnus Dei’ whose intimation of doubt is brusquely denied by the ‘Postludium’ – a vigorous workout for solo organ in which Christian Schmitt (above) decisively assumed the limelight.
It remained for the ‘Intrada’ to round off proceedings with its pounding timpani and exultant trumpets – so setting the seal on a memorable concert which, as with its predecessor, is likely to prove a highlight of this Proms season: music-making as it can and should be experienced.
Véronique Gens (soprano), Fleur Barron (mezzo-soprano), Laurence Kilsby (tenor), Stéphane Degout (baritone), Susan Manoff (piano), Julius Drake (piano) – all performing on Friday 13 September 2024 at the Wigmore Hall
The Gabriel Fauré Centenary Celebrations open with a song gala involving some of Fauré’s finest contemporary interpreters, who explore the composer’s output at various stages, and all of whom share in the performance of his cycle La bonne chanson.
The concert will take place on Friday 13 Sep 2024, 7.30pm (click here for tickets) – and marks the start of a celebration which will cover the French composer’s celebrated chamber music.
You can read about the celebrations at the Wigmore Hall website, where you will find details of the five-day festival planned and curated by Steven Isserlis and friends, running from Friday 1 November to Tuesday 5 November. The programme will include all of Fauré’s chamber music, put in context of his friends and contemporaries. It will also give us the rare opportunity to hear both of the piano trios by his good friend Saint-Saëns.
Dvořák Cello Concerto in B minor Op.104 (1894-95) Suk Symphony no.2 in C minor Op.27 ‘Asrael’ (1905-06)
Anastasia Kobekina (cello), Czech Philharmonic Orchestra / Jakub Hrůša
Royal Albert Hall, London Tuesday 27 August 2024
reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) Andy Paradise
First heard at the Proms in those testing times of 1969, the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra has since appeared at these concerts with some frequency during the past quarter-century, and this evening brought the first in a pair of concerts with its principal guest conductor Jakub Hrůša.
Each of these Proms features a Dvořák concerto, with that for cello undertaken by the highly regarded Anastasia Kobekina. The opening Allegro evinced an elegance and understatement abetted by the chamber-like interaction, Kobekina’s line faltering only marginally in its more intensive passagework, though the thrilling ascent up to the reprise of the second theme went for relatively little and its coda rather lacked decisiveness. Much the highlight was an Adagio of ruminative warmth and, after its restless central section, an exquisite poise when the main melody is entrusted to the soloist prior to a melting close. The final Allegro too went well for much of its length, but a tendency to drift came to the fore in its extended coda – Kobekina’s response rather selling short its pathos and, in turn, the inevitability of the orchestral pay-off.
A fine if not overly memorable account, but Kobekina (below) is an artist of style and personality – as she demonstrated in the rendition of Gallardo (Variations on an Ancient Theme) by her father Vladimir Kobekin, Pavel Polívka providing tambourine accompaniment for this lively encore.
Having already made two recordings and given a memorable account with the Philharmonia a decade ago, Hrůša is evidently on a mission to establish Suk’s ‘Asrael’ Symphony in the wider repertoire and tonight’s reading did not disappoint. Especially impressive was his maintaining emotional intensity across those three movements that make up its first part – the introduction to the opening of them starkly drawn so what followed needed only an incremental impetus to sustain itself over a complex yet cohesive sonata design then on to a peroration whose despair was unremitting. The intermezzo found ideal an accord between its ‘otherness’ and that ironic ambiguity where Mahler’s influence is apparent, its teetering on silence a foil for the scherzo whose anxiety was soulfully waylaid by the trio before it exploded in fury towards the close.
What had begun as the commemoration of Dvořák (Suk’s teacher) became a memorial to his daughter Otilie (Suk’s wife) in its second part. Compassionate but never cloying, the opening Adagio was enhanced by some alluring woodwind and an eloquent contribution from leader Jan Mráček as underlined the significance of solo violin for Suk’s output overall. Its subdued close was brusquely denied by timpani at the outset of the finale – a relatively loose but never diffuse structure, the headlong clamour of whose central build-up carried over into a dramatic climax before this subsided unerringly into the lengthy coda. The composer was explicit as to the nature of the latter – its barely fulfilled serenity perfectly captured by Hrůša as this music reaches, if not benediction, at least that repose from where further creativity became possible.
Acknowledging considerable applause, Hrůša explained that no encore would be played given how apposite were the final bars in their countering the ‘‘crazy world’’ around us. Something which could overall be said of what was a highly perceptive and often profound performance.
Emma Tring (soprano), BBC National Orchestra of Wales / Martyn Brabbins
BIS 2721 [72’51’’] French text and English translation included
Producer Thore Brinkman Engineers Simon Smith, Mike Cox Recorded 29-31 March 2023, Hoddinott Hall, Cardiff
Written by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
BIS continues its coverage of John Pickard (b.1963) with a pertinent coupling of his Second and Sixth Symphonies, heard alongside his song-cycle to poems by Verlaine, in what is the most wide-ranging release – whether chronologically or stylistically – to date in this series.
What’s the music like?
It hardly seems 35 years since the Second Symphony blazed forth at its Manchester premiere, so establishing Pickard’s reputation. The composer had earlier studied with Louis Andriessen, to whose confrontational minimalism this piece is indebted in certain particulars – but, unlike other among his contemporaries who were so influenced, Pickard was alive to its symphonic potential. Unfolding over six continuous sections, the work builds via an intensifying process of tension and release to a seismic culmination as marks a seamless, even inevitable return to its start. Those familiar with that pioneering version by Odaline de la Martínez (on YouTube) will find this new one hardly less attentive to the visceral power of what, given its predecessor remains unheard, is a symphonic debut with few equals and one that urgently warrants revival.
Almost 35 years on and the Sixth Symphony offers a very different though no less involving perspective on what this genre might be. The first of its two movements channels a modified sonata design such that an almost whimsical opening has become brutalized well before the despairing close. Its successor refashions the expected continuity from an even more oblique vantage – the music heading eloquently if funereally toward a plangent climax that subsides into a delicate intermezzo, infused with the sound of nature, then on to a final section which recalls earlier ideas in a mood of rapt anticipation. Not that this understatement offers in any sense an easy way out: indeed, the work concludes with its composer poised at a crossroads as much existential as musical, and from where the whole creative process can begin afresh.
Separating two substantial statements of intent, the Verlaine Songs continues Pickard’s recent involvement with poetic texts and, while Paul Verlaine might seem far removed from Edward Thomas or Laurence Binyon, his evocations fanciful while sometimes unnerving – hence Le sqelette with its graphic aural imagery – finds the composer reciprocating in kind. Coming in between scorings with ensemble or violin and piano, this version with orchestra finds Pickard enriching a lineage of French song-cycles from Berlioz, via Ravel and Messiaen, to Dutilleux.
Does it all work?
It does, not least because Pickard is conscious of the need for his music to determine its own course. However dissimilar these symphonies might seem, the sensibility behind them is the same and any stylistic differences more apparent than real. It helps when Martyn Brabbins is a conductor familiar with this idiom as to inspire a committed response by the BBC National Orchestra of Wales, with Emma Tring alive to the manifest subtlety of the vocal writing, and the recordings consistently heard to advantage in the spacious immediacy of Hoddinott Hall.
Is it recommended?
Indeed, in the hope this series will be continued. Both the First and Third Symphonies await recording, as do Partita for strings and large-scale choral work Agamemnon’s Tomb, so that Pickard’s discography has a way to go even without addition of new pieces to his catalogue.
Arcana.fm 