Yesterday we learned of the sad and unexpected passing of Brian McBride, one half of the influential ambient duo Stars of the Lid.
Together with band mate Adam Wiltzie, McBride made subtly mesmerising music that left a lasting impression on its listeners. Influenced by but not restricted to modern classical music, the pair set about creating a unique sound, predominantly drone-based but carefully and beautifully constructed. Much of their best work was realised on the Kranky label, who revealed the news of McBride’s unexpectedly early passing.
This tribute on Pitchfork tells a fuller story, but in order to fully appreciate McBride’s genius, here are two listening links – one to the landmark Stars of the Lid album and their Refinement of the Decline, and one to McBride’s solo album When The Detail Lost Its Freedom
Danish National Symphony Orchestra / Fabio Luisi with Fatma Said (soprano), Palle Knudsen (baritone) (Symphony no.3)
Nielsen Symphonies: no.1 in G minor FS16a; no.2 FS29 ‘The Four Temperaments’b no.3 FS60 ‘Sinfonia espansiva’c; no.4 FS76 ‘The Inextinguishable’d; no.5 FS97e; no.6 FS116 ‘Sinfonia semplice’f
Deutsche Grammophon 4863471 [3 hours 36 minutes] Producer Bernhard Güttler; Engineers Mikkel Nymand, Christoph Stickel
Recorded in live performances at Koncertsalen, DR Koncerthuset, Copenhagen: 1 February (no.4), 3 February (no.2), 3 June (no.6), 17 June (no.1), 26 November (no.3), 28 November (no.5)
Written by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
Deutsche Grammophon continues its latest generation of symphonic cycles (following those first-time traversals of Franz Schmidt and Charles Ives) with that from Carl Nielsen, performed by the Danish National Symphony Orchestra and its incumbent principal conductor Fabio Luisi.
Almost 50 years after the first integral recording of these symphonies (Ole Schmidt with the London Symphony Orchestra on Unicorn/Alto), there are at least 20 such cycles available so that any newcomer needs to bring a fresh perspective on Nielsen’s always distinctive though increasingly unpredictable fusion of innovation with tradition. This pairing of orchestra and conductor is intriguing insofar that the DNSO has been associated with these works from the outset, while Luisi is a musician of broad sympathies with cycles of symphonies by Schmidt (Querstand) and Schumann (Orfeo) plus an incomplete one of tone poems by Strauss (Sony). The result is a Nielsen cycle at times impressive in its conviction if at others dismaying in its inconsistency, and not always in those works or for those reasons one might have expected.
What’s the music like?
Luisi makes his intentions plain at the start of the First Symphony, its initial Allegro launched via an emphatic C major whose impetus is sustained through an impetuous development, with a remorseless acceleration into the implacable coda. Even finer is an Andante by turns elegant and eloquent, strings coming into their own, while only a marginal hesitancy as to the elision between scherzo and intermezzo affects its successor’s stealthy progress. Taut if not inflexible, the final Allegro has innate buoyancy capped with the uninhibited verve generated at its close.
If the Second Symphony is less successful, this is because Luisi does not transcend its status as a symphonic suite. The ‘choleric’ element of the opening Allegro verges on the histrionic, with the humour of the following intermezzo deadpan rather than ‘phlegmatic’. The Andante, though, is superbly sustained over its airily pastoral interlude towards an intensified recall of its ‘melancholic’ opening and coda of fatalistic poise. The ‘sanguine’ trait of the final Allegro is deftly undercut by musing uncertainty, but this yields a slightly tepid resolution in its coda.
Nothing comparable affects the Third Symphony, the ‘expansiveness’ of its opening Allegro abetted by visceral drive in its outer paragraphs and nuanced subtlety in its more speculative passages. The Andante’s interplay of the pastoral and emotional sees a rapturous apotheosis, soprano and baritone vocalises beguilingly intertwined, then the scherzo generates no mean energy prior to its restive ending. Luisi’s steady overall tempo for the final Allegro avoids sluggishness, and not least a coda the more conclusive for its eschewal of wanton triumph.
Despite a properly blazing start to the Fourth Symphony, its opening Allegro emerges as no more than the sum of some admittedly fine parts, with the charm of the ensuing intermezzo just a little too ‘knowing’. The highlight here is a slow movement of real fervency, its dense textures clearly articulated and a transition of simmering intensity into the finale’s headlong fugato on strings. Tension here is ably maintained, but Luisi’s holding back in its peroration replaces that striving onwards Nielsen surely intended with a more generalized affirmation.
This take on the Fifth Symphony is very much a tale of two parts. Luisi audibly locates the ‘tempo giusto’ for the first movement’s opening half – its increasingly ominous expectancy fulfilled in an Adagio of great pathos, albeit with a side-drum cadenza overly reined-in both texturally and emotionally. Too stolid a tempo for the second movement’s initial Allegro is exacerbated by its inhibited Presto, and though Luisi renders its Andante with compassion, his broadening towards the close of the final Allegro is too self-conscious to be convincing.
Is it surprising that the Sixth Symphony rounds off this cycle so perceptively? The complex array of emotions found in its opening movement yields the right ‘innocence to experience’ trajectory, with both the sardonic humour of its Humoreske and the fractured eloquence of its Proposta seria palpably conveyed. Above all, the finale’s outwardly fractious variations unfold with a seamlessness and an inevitability that makes of the coda a culmination whose outcome is held in check until the last bar. A still disputed masterpiece is hereby vindicated.
Does it all work?
Swings and roundabouts. There could be no doubt as to the seriousness with which Luisi has taken on this project, nor of the overall excellence of the DNSO’s playing. Where this cycle falls down is in a lack of focus across the whole, to the extent that there could have been two or even three conductors involved here. Moreover the orchestral sound, warm and immediate but often lacking definition or a consistent balance, feels appreciably different from what this ensemble produces in its home venue – leading one to suspect a modicum of post-production.
For CD adherents the fold-out triple pack is eminently stylish and straightforward, while Jens Cornelius’ note sets the scene adequately enough. The cycle is also available as three separate couplings of Nos. 4 and 5, Nos. 2 and 6 then Nos. 1 and 3 – with the three concertos to follow.
Is it recommended?
Yes, with qualifications. Prospective purchasers are advised to sample the cycle via streaming then proceed accordingly. Certainly, the Third and Sixth Symphonies rank with the finest now available, and listeners should form their own judgement as to the merits of this cycle overall.
John Beltran continues undimmed. The Michigan-born producer has been making albums since 1995, establishing himself as a leading exponent of ambient techno – but along the way showing us that he should not be restricted to that genre alone.
Serendipia finds him exploring his love of all things Balearic for the Oath label, and taking the opportunity to bring in references to Brazilian music and jazz.
What’sthemusiclike?
Music like this demands a cocktail and a large expanse of water. Serendipia will come as a lovely surprise to those who might have had John Beltran pinned down as a home studio producer, for it brings in a wide range of percussion, waves lapping at the shore in its beautifully realised down tempo treats.
Beltran creates a tropical infusion, with typically classy production but with a sultry atmosphere heightened by languid guitars and extra percussion. There are some lovely jazzy solos from guitar and keys, with the opening Taina an excellent example, but these are tasteful and never overdone.
Sa Coma Blue features a vocal cameo from regular collaborator John Arnold and sounds uncannily like the intro to Lady In Red – but styles it out with lazy guitar and hazy textures. It is typical of Beltran’s open air music, where widescreen textures put the listener in an exotic environment, while the close-up detail gives evidence of an expert technician.
Aşk Anları shows off those expansive sound pictures, while the more thoughtful tracks – such as La Hermosa Vista – bring the ideal blend of slow moving chord sequences and thrumming percussion loops.
Does it all work?
It does – effortlessly so. The combination of electronics, easy guitars and jazz-inflected solos is a winning one, especially with the rhythm section Beltran supplies.
Is it recommended?
Yes – an easy decision. An album to spend time with in the hot weather, for sure!
Prom 51 – Christian Tetzlaff (violin), BBC Symphony Orchestra / Sakari Oramo
Weir Begin Afresh (BBC commission, world premiere) (2022-3) Schumann Symphony no.1 in B flat major Op.38 ‘Spring’ (1841) Elgar Violin Concerto in B minor Op.61 (1907-10)
Royal Albert Hall, London Thursday 24 August 2023
by Ben Hogwood photos by Andy Paradise / BBC
The BBC Symphony Orchestra and their chief conductor Sakari Oramo have been on fine form this Proms season, and for their fourth outing together chose a concert whose first half celebrated the vibrancy of spring.
Judith Weir (below) has already written about green matter for orchestra, with her tone poem Forest premiered in 1995 and appearing at the Proms in 2019. Begin Afresh, its title inspired by Philip Larkin verse, takes a more forensic approach, looking at the wonder of trees in an urban setting. Effectively a musical diary, it begins in April, where we found orchestra leader Igor Yuzefovich teaming up with the woodwind section to lead an awakening from months of darkness. Fresh textures and opulent harmonies promised much, but October assumed a heavier tread, trees struggling to produce leaves with the onset of colder weather. Darker colours, including the sharper tone of the piano, came to the fore, but there was strong resolve reminiscent of Sibelius in the colours and phrasing, tonal but restless. True darkness set in among the lean lines of February, where roots fought against the frost, their sinewy profiles etched by the lower strings. Begin Afresh found its victory to be hard-won, but proved to be an attractive and pictorial piece deserving of more outings in the future.
Schumann’s Spring symphony, written in 1841 in the heady aftermath of his marriage to Clara, occupied an odd place in the program but benefited from a freshly minted performance. The initial fanfare set the tone for an interpretation of clarity and poise, the burbling woodwind on fine form. The ensuing Allegro molto vivace was bracing, and was complemented by a softly voiced second movement Larghetto. Here the softer shades were ideally weighted, the strings’ intimate thoughts conveyed with deep feeling. The Scherzo found the violins applying extra force, the theme balanced by two light-footed trio sections that danced happily. Oramo’s fluent reading of this wonderful symphony ended with a convincing last movement affirmation.
If spring was the main focus of the first half, Elgar’s Violin Concerto was ideally suited to late summer. There are many violin concertos in this year’s season – 13 at last count – and although this is the longest work by some distance, it did not tarry here. This was thanks in part to relatively quick tempo choices but mostly due to wholehearted investment from Oramo and soloist Christian Tetzlaff, who clearly loves the piece. From his first statement the violinist was in full, assertive control yet his most meaningful contributions were also the quietest, beckoning the audience in to Elgar’s most intimate thoughts and emotions.
The orchestral counterpoint was clearly and carefully managed by Oramo, himself a dignified Elgarian, with opportunity given for the strings to release ardent feelings in the climax points. The main themes were lovingly delivered, especially in the rapt slow movement Andante, the audience largely silent as the compelling dialogue took hold. While Tetzlaff took every opportunity for virtuoso display, reminding us that no less a violinist than Fritz Kreisler commissioned this work in 1904, none of the acrobatics were for personal gain. Instead they were at the service of Elgar’s expression, which made the final pages all the more telling. As the quiet music took hold a chill spread through the music, a sombre realisation that love – in this case – might not prevail. This realisation unwittingly found a parallel, a musical realisation of the temperatures dropping and the nights drawing in as they do in late August.
The concerto may have had an affirmative finish but these thoughts remained, reinforced by a tastefully restrained encore of the Andante from Bach’s Solo Violin Sonata no.2 in A minor BWV1003. As with the performance before, it was beautifully judged.
If you are a regular visitor to Bandcamp, you will know the musical riches and rewards that are available, both for streaming and for purchase.
The electronic band Broads – who are Norwich-based Mark Jennings and James Ferguson – have made a third set of B-sides and alternative versions available on the site for a ‘name your price’ fee.
Established listeners will know that theirs is an inventive, organic brand of electronica that responds really well to repeated listening – and so comes highly recommended from these parts. The cleverly titled B-roads Vol. III is available here:
Arcana.fm 