A new release on Lo Recordings that is well worth your time! In the words of the label’s press release:
“Musical innovators Red Snapper release a new album on Lo Recordings. Live at The Moth Club, the follow up to 2022’s acclaimed Everybody Is Somebody long player, features nine tracks from a vast and impressive back catalogue on Warp Records and Lo Recordings and captures perfectly the energy of their celebrated sold out London show from May 2022 in Hackney.
With an incredible and genre bursting career that spans nearly thirty years, the new album demonstrates the band’s ability to constantly rework classic and new tracks, keeping them impassioned, experimental and relevant. The collection includes a version of Suckerpunch which originally appeared on their 1998 album Making Bones.’ It was released as a single on 15 September.
Lyrita SRCD.414 [68’55’’] Producer/Engineer Adrian Farmer Recorded 13-15 October 2021 at Wyastone Concert Hall, Wyastone Leys, Monmouth
written by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
Following on from his three symphonies (SRCD.349), Lyrita here continues its coverage of Malcolm Lipkin (1932-2017) with this release featuring piano music from his later years – a cohesive body of work such as benefits from the insightful playing of Nathan Williamson.
What’s the music like?
While not lacking performances from the early 1950s onward, Lipkin remained a peripheral figure on the UK music scene until the premiere of his 1977 chamber work Clifford’s Tower (Divine Art DDA25202) – its powerfully humanist response to racial atrocity typifying the music from his maturity. The pieces on this new release appear dissimilar given their overt abstraction, but even a cursory hearing reveals many subtleties of expression arising directly out of the musical content which come increasingly into focus with each successive listen.
It was with his Third Sonata that Lipkin first came to attention, but there was a 32-year gap between its successor and the Fifth Sonata. Its two movements contrast with each other in every respect: the first, marked ‘Extremely slow’, starts then ends with a rapt inwardness that makes its ferocious central eruption more unnerving; the second, marked ‘Quite fast’, emerges as a toccata whose jazzy syncopation and technical virtuosity are carried forward to a decisive close. If the ‘Fantasy’ of the Sixth Sonata seems anti-climactic by comparison, its integrating of the nominal four movements (the ‘scherzo’ placed third) as a continuous discourse is brought off with absolute assurance. There is also a growing sense the outcome of its intriguing 15 minutes is unlikely to be that anticipated, which indeed proves the case.
It was none the less with his series of Nocturnes, composed over virtually two decades, that Lipkin made his defining contribution to piano literature. These take their cue from Chopin and Fauré, while adding a vein of ambiguity which is unique to this composer. Not least the First Nocturne with its distanced opening, hazy yet lucid evolution and ethereal close. The Second and Third pieces are respectively wistful and elegiac, then the remaining five each has a descriptive subtitle. Hence the Fourth Nocturne in its juxtaposing of the otherworldly and ominous, the Fifth with its winsome elegance, and the Sixth in its intuitive interplay of expressive types. The Seventh Nocturne has a more capricious demeanour, then the Eighth ends the series with its veiled allusiveness: ‘recollections’ in the fullest yet obliquest sense.
Does it all work?
Absolutely. Right from his first acknowledged pieces, Lipkin evinced craftsmanship of the highest order but it took time and experience to channel this into a wholly personal idiom. Such is everywhere evident in the piano music heard here, which also calls on pianism of the highest order. This it receives from Nathan Williamson (himself a composer of note), who has clearly devoted much time to evolving an all-round interpretive stance. With the Nocturnes in particular, it would hard to imagine more authoritative or sensitive readings.
Is it recommended?
Indeed. The spacious though focussed sound is up to Wyastone studio’s customary standard, and there are typically comprehensive annotations from Paul Conway. It is to be hoped that Lyrita will continue its Lipkin exploration with more of the chamber and orchestral output.
Sam Hayden Picking up the Pieces (1991, rev. 2019) – Darragh Morgan (violin) AXE[S] (1997, rev. 2009/19/21) – Mats Scheidegger (guitar) Frammenti di divenire (2018) – Gianpaolo Antongirolami (soprano saxophone); Michele Selva (baritone saxophone) Attente (2018-19) – Carla Rees (flute) Remnants I (2018-19) – Richard Haynes (contrabass clarinet) Remnants III (2021) – Karoline Öhman (cello), Tamriko Kordzaia (piano)
Métier MSV28622 [two discs, 84’51’’] Producers/Engineers Mikey Parsons (Picking up the Pieces), Mats Scheidegger (AXE[S]), Francesco Sardella (Frammenti di divenire), Simon Paterson (Attente), Fabio Oehrli (Remnants I), Marcel Babazadeh (Remnants III) Editing/Mixing Sam Hayden Recorded 11 July 2019 at King Charles Court, London (Picking up the Pieces), 21 September 2021 at SRF Studio, Zurich (Remnants III), 7 January 2022 at Nottingham University (Attente), 25 February – 8 May 2022 at Home Studio, Zurich (AXE[S]), 13 May 2022 at Helvetiaplatz, Bern (Remnants I), 29 June 2022 at Pinkhouse Studio, Ancona (Frammenti di divenire)
written by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
Métier continues its coverage of Sam Hayden (following that of his piano music Becomings) with this collection of solo and duo pieces drawn from either end of his composing career.
What’s the music like?
As one would expect from Hayden, his music brooks no compromises and takes no prisoners. Heard in the running sequence specified here, the works run chronologically with those most recent pieces coming first. The Italian saxophone duo makes the most of the volatile textural layering and fractured spectral harmony in Frammenti di divenire, then Carla Rees is no less inside the tensely expressive idiom of Attente with its multi-section discourse (whether those designated ‘IIIa’ and ‘IIIb’ are intended to be heard continuously or as alternatives is unclear).
Next come the first and third items in the Remnants series (the worklist at Hayden’s website does not yet extend after 2018, but the second is for bass trombone). The first of these finds Richard Haynes forcefully ejecting sounds and sequences that are the ‘composed’ remains of an elaborate computer-generated process, while the third pursues a more flexible though still rebarbative dialogue between cello and piano, where a variation-like evolution can be sensed as part of an ongoing and combative interplay between microtonal and conventional tunings.
The second half of this set features two large-scale works from earlier in Hayden’s output, and his involvement with the ‘new complexity’ movement then at its most potent in the UK. Despite (even because of) its title, Picking Up the Pieces unfolds as a tautly focussed entity – made more so by its initial ‘motto’ phrase that remains detectible throughout all manner of transformation on the harmonic, rhythmic and textural levels. Superbly realized by Darragh Morgan, it is among the most impressive instances of cohesion wrested from fragmentation.
If the epic which is AXE[S] does not quite achieve such an overall unity, this is likely a result of the work’s overall scale (virtually half an hour of uninterrupted music) and its tendency to discursiveness evident in those numerous types of material that are continuously crosscut in what becomes an odyssey for the instrument and its performer as much as the actual content. Having commissioned, premiered and worked towards its realization this past 25 years, Mats Scheidegger embraces the challenge of presenting this piece in all its uncompromising glory.
Does it all work?
Yes, if each listener wishes it so. As has frequently been remarked, Hayden’s work has never made any concessions to those performing or hearing it; nor has his recent involvement with spectral techniques brought any lessening of the technical rigour or expressive vehemence as has characterized his thinking for over three decades. To do so would not have necessitated a response of such unwavering commitment from its exponents, who ensure that the demands made on them become integral to the overall experience of coming to terms with this music.
Is it recommended?
Yes. The all-round excellence of these performances is matched by the focus and immediacy of the sound in each instance, together with detailed while not unduly abstruse notes from the composer. Those coming to his music afresh are not likely to remain emotionally uninvolved.
Parry Piano Sonata no.1 in F major (1876) Piano Sonata no.2 in A minor (1878) Sieben Charakterbilder (1872) Five Miniatures (pub. 1926)
Richard Deering (piano)
Heritage Records HTGCD140-141 [two discs, 87’15’’] Producer/Engineer: Paul Arden-Taylor Recorded 15 July 2023 at Wyastone Concert Hall, Wyastone Leys, Monmouth
written by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
Heritage continues its coverage of unfamiliar British music with this set featuring much of the music for solo piano by Hubert Parry, representative of those earlier years when his immersion in the Austro-German tradition was being leavened with a more personal vein of expression.
What’s the music like?
Although he had essayed two sets of shorter pieces in the late 1860s, Parry’s large-scale piano works come from the following decade. The First Piano Sonata owes a debt to Beethoven but also Mendelssohn and Weber, the eddying restraint of its first movement finding contrast with the capricious charm of its scherzo or wistful poise of its Andante. The finale duly heads from a pensive introduction to an elegant Allegretto that, in turn, finds greater animation in its coda. Modest in scope, the whole piece has a limpidity and understatement which is most appealing.
The Second Piano Sonata, if not that much longer, none the less leaves a greater impression – not least as the influences of Schumann and Brahms are more evident. The opening Allegro features a Maestoso introduction that recurs after the development and in the coda to deepen this music’s ingratiating manner, then the Adagio touches on deeper or even darker emotions. The ensuing Scherzo is more rhythmically incisive than its predecessor and while the finale is marked Allegretto, it builds to a decisive close – the introductory music again in evidence.
Before either of these sonatas, Parry composed a set of studies entitled Charakterbilder but with the intriguing subtitle Seven Ages of Mind, which suggests an evolving concept akin to several of Schumann’s collections. The Dreaming of a whimsical Prelude is followed by the impetuosity of Learning then the histrionics of Passion. The trenchancy of Striving precedes the eloquence of Longing then the elation of Triumphing, and though the final Adagio is untitled, its mood of inward rapture might well be thought of as being Fulfilling.
Parry soon went on to write a notable Piano Concerto and engaging Theme and Variations, but little further for the solo instrument until late in life. Published posthumously, the Five Miniatures likely emerged over a quarter-century – the initial Sleepy having an affecting charm complemented by the winsomeness of A Little Christmas Piece then wry humour of Capriccio. Greater profundity is hinted at in the ensuing Pause before this sequence reaches its close with the bittersweet resignation of Envoi – most delicate of miniatures.
Does it all work?
It does. Parry was still in the process of finding his own voice (which, as can be heard from his later choral and orchestral works, was a distinctive one) when writing this music, which should not detract from the technical finish and emotional warmth in much of what is heard here. It helps that Richard Deering brings out its salient qualities through playing responsive to the composer’s idiomatic if stylistically undemanding pianism, as rendered on a Steinway D which clarifies a preponderance of ‘middle range’ keyboard sonorities and passagework.
Is it recommended?
It is. The sound has all the clarity and perspective expected, and there are useful background notes by Lisa Hardy. A follow-up release featuring the Theme and Variations, along with the three sets of Sonnets and Songs without Words and the Schulbrede Tunes, would be welcome.
Musicians of the English Symphony Orchestra / Kenneth Woods
Doolittle Woodwings (2018, arr. 2021) Gál Divertimento for Wind Octet, Op. 22 (1924) Dvořák Serenade in D minor, B77 (1878)
Henry Sandon Hall @ Royal Porcelain Works, Worcester Saturday 14 October 2023 (4pm)
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
Entitled Music for Humans, the coming season from the English Symphony Orchestra promises a wide array of pieces such as focus on what can be achieved through the art of communication and, conversely, what can result when that communication breaks down. This afternoon’s concert enabled the ESO woodwind (along with some of its brass and a couple of its strings) to come into its own with a varied programme as featured music from a regular ESO collaborator, one whom the orchestra has often championed and one who ranks among the greatest of any era.
It may have originated as a wind quintet, but Woodwings by Emily Doolittle (from Halifax, Nova Scotia and now based in Glasgow) proved no less effective when recast for 10-strong wind ensemble (with cello and double-bass) – songs and calls of nine Canadian birds heard over five characterful movements. These range from the playfully assertive Bobolink, via the inwardly plaintive Hermit Thrush and the quizzically engaging Winter Wren, to the cumulatively arresting Snow Goose then a Night Owls finale whose freeform evolution makes for an intriguing and enticing pay-off. First played by the ESO in Kidderminster just over two years ago, it once again provided an appealing concert-opener and certainly bodes well for the 2024-25 season, when Doolittle becomes the ESO’s Composer-in-Association.
The success of his Divertimento was a notable marker for the burgeoning career which Hans Gál enjoyed during the earlier inter-war period, and it remains among the most personable of his chamber works. ‘Intrata’ affords a keen indication of what is to come with its juxtaposing of the martial, hilarious and confiding, proceeded by the capricious exchanges of Pagliazza (inspired by the eponymous tower in Florence?) then the wistful interplay of Cavatina with Gál’s handling of wind sonority at its most beguiling. The mood turns towards the whimsical in the by no means genteel humour of Intermezzo grazioso, before the piece is rounded off with those varied character-portrayals of Pifferari – its title alluding to a group of itinerant musicians playing upon a variety of pipes, and thereby bringing matters to a diverting close.
Although less often performed than its earlier counterpart for strings, Dvořák’s Serenade for Winds (plus cello and double-bass) is arguably more indicative of where his genius lay. The martial theme of its opening Moderato is leavened by a ruminative poise that comes into its own with the minuet-like successor, its felicitous contours duly finding contrast through the animated gaiety of its Presto trio-section. The ensuing Andante is undoubtedly this work’s emotional heart – its eloquence redolent of Mozart in its understatement but also intimation of more ambivalent emotion in the ominous central stage or bittersweet fatalism at its close. From here the final Allegro steers an impulsive but also lilting course through to a climactic restatement of the march theme, then on to a coda that ends the work in exhilarating fashion.
In this judiciously balanced selection, ESO woodwind was heard at its most stylish in music whose appeal belies its technical challenges for individuals and ensemble alike. Next month the orchestra heads to Malvern for an imposing double-bill of Tchaikovsky and Shostakovich.
Arcana.fm 