How long should it take to record an album? From the stories we hear, a few months would seem to be appropriate; a few weeks if the components really click. Apifera, newly formed as a quartet, took just three days to finish theirs, which explains its instinctive music making.
The band are accomplished solo artists from Tel Aviv who have played together before on the Stones Throw label, fronted by Yuval Havkin under his Rejoicer moniker. Here they appear as equals, listing an intriguing set of influences that include Ravel, Debussy and Sun Ra. These are placed in the melting pot alongside folk influences from Israel, Ghana and Sudan.
What’s the music like?
Given the outline above, it is no surprise to report that Overstand is both instinctive and musically free. The music reflects the fresh approach with which it was recorded, creating vivid pictures while utilising a satisfying ebb and flow of energy. The mood is largely positive, the chemistry between the players clear as they create room for each to have their own say.
Drummer Amir Bresler provides the best example of this approach, with complicated rhythms on Lake VU given impressive clarity but also allowing other contributions to shine through. He is a versatile beat maker, pushing the music along with positive energy, over which the keyboards of Nitai Hershkovits and Yuval himself shimmer and shine. Underneath the bass of Yonatan Albalak offers a sure foundation but embodies their flexible style.
Theirs is an expansive approach but a focussed one too – none of the improvised passages outstays their welcome, and on occasion they add even more colour with brass.
Does it all work?
It does – Overstand works as an overall creator of positive, laid back moods, but also up close as a set of interlocking lines and textures. Just occasionally the music hints it might lose direction, but these moments are fleeting. The blissful, watery finish of Pulse 420 suggests the band could easily make an accomplished ambient record too.
Is it recommended?
Yes. Gloomy Januarys need this sort of music to see them through – and Overstand is a welcome dose of positivity in that regard. It works very nicely as a blend of its influences, bringing some of the cleaner lines of 20th century classical music up against offbeat jazz rhythms.
Self-portrait as a young man by Caspar David Friedrich (1800)
Piano Sonata no.20 in G major Op.49/2 for piano (1795-6, Beethoven aged 25)
1 Allegro ma non troppo
2 Tempo di Minuetto
Dedication unknown
Duration 8′
Listen
Background and Critical Reception
One of Beethoven’s shortest piano sonatas, this miniature jewel in G major is an early work in spite of its Op.49 publication. It was published alongside an equally compact work in G minor but is thought to have been written during Beethoven’s visit to Prague in 1796, one of the few times he ventured away from Vienna.
Angela Hewitt, writing in the booklet notes for her Hyperion recording, describes that ‘after a straightforward, no-fuss Allegro, ma no troppo (a study for playing triplets), Beethoven gives us a beautiful movement in the tempo of a minuet, an example of a dance that figured prominently in his music. He must have liked this theme because he used it again in the third movement of his Septet in E flat major Op.20 (1799)’.
Thoughts
The first movement of G major sonata is almost certainly the first complete sonata movement a piano student will encounter – such was the way for me. And yet despite its supposed technical ease it has a poise to rival the most charming works of Mozart and Haydn.
Beethoven writes with a relatively light touch, a few crunchy chords aside, and the tunes are attractively delivered and then developed. A call to arms from the first chord is answered by more delicate thoughts, and this to and fro forms the basis of the first movement. The second movement has its roots more obviously in the dance, and begins with a true earworm that deserved its place at the heart of the wonderful Septet – still to come in our listening. This slightly cheeky tune returns at regular intervals, as though checking we haven’t forgotten about it, before signing off with a thoughtful full stop.
Recordings used and Spotify links
Emil Gilels (Deutsche Grammophon) Alfred Brendel (Philips) András Schiff (ECM) Angela Hewitt (Hyperion) Paul Badura-Skoda (Arcana) Stephen Kovacevich (EMI) Igor Levit (Sony Classical) Ronald Brautigam (BIS)
There are many thoroughly enjoyable versions of this piece. In picking out a few, I would commend Ronald Brautigam for the freshness of his fortepiano phrasing, even though the recorded sound is a little roomy at times. As András Schiff points out in his notes for ECM, there are no dynamic markings for the sonata, so the performer has to interpret them. His own recording is also quite reverberant, with a clipped delivery turning the second movement theme into a real dance movement. Angela Hewitt takes a smoother approach to Op.49/2, beautifully pointed and phrased, with lovely balance between the hands. Emil Gilels has a more regal approach but is completely captivating in his account.
The playlist below accommodates all the versions described above except that by Angela Hewitt:
You can hear clips of Hewitt’s recording at the Hyperion website
You can chart the Arcana Beethoven playlist as it grows, with one recommended version of each piece we listen to. Catch up here!
Also written in 1796 Clementi 3 Piano Sonatas Op.35 .
Casper Clausen is the frontman of celebrated Danish band Efterklang, renowned for their versatility in writing moving leftfield pop music with orchestral craft. Clausen shows a good deal of those qualities in his first solo album, released on his birthday on 9th January.
What’s the music like?
Refreshingly varied and inventive. Clausen appears to have started Better Way with a clean sheet of paper, for its musical twists and turns are many – but are carefully structured to make an excellent album that only improves with repeated listening.
The first and last tracks are the most substantial. Used To Think sets expectations with a broad sonic canvas, its extended instrumental intro doffing a cap to Krautrock but providing an airy backing to Clausen’s easy vocal once it arrives. Ocean Wave is rather different, a reflective postlude building to an impressive climax.
In between there are intimate asides, intriguing rhythms and subtly expanded musical ambition. The rhythms are at their most imaginative on Feel It Coming, using a set of skewed and broken beats, and 8 Bit Human, which carries a Kraftwerk-style undercarriage.
Falling Apart Like You is the album’s emotional centre, its plaintive vocal taking place over a shifting backdrop. Little Words is its natural counterpart, a mottled guitar giving Clausen the chance to project his lyrics, ‘Call out to the future, do you wanna heal the world?’
Does it all work?
Better Way takes a while to reveal its secrets, but is something of a grower. By the third listen you will realise how memorable Clausen’s hooks are, and how profound his vocals – and appreciation will also have grown for his instrumental palette.
Is it recommended?
It is. Fans of Efterklang – and there are many – will need no persuasion. If you are a fan of Scandinavian pop music then this will also be for you, as it will be if you are looking for fresh faced musical inspiration at the start of the year.
Zoë Beyers (violin), English Symphony Orchestra / Kenneth Woods
Blake (arr. Schuller) Charleston Rag (1915) Schulhoff Suite for Chamber Orchestra, Op. 37 (1921) Morton (arr. Schuller) Black Bottom Stomp (1926) Krenek (arr. Bauer) Fantasie on ‘Jonny spielt auf’ (1927/8) Milhaud Le boeuf sur le toit, Op. 58b (1920/1)
Wyastone Concert Hall, Monmouth
Recorded 9-10 November, broadcast Thursday 31 December 2020 (online)
Written by Richard Whitehouse
The English Symphony Orchestra certainly saw in the New Year with style in this attractive and enterprising programme centred on the prevalence but also the range of jazz idioms either side of the Atlantic throughout the 1920s. Its stylistic roots were acknowledged in the panache of Charleston Rag by the long-lived Eubie Blake, then the irresistible verve of Black Bottom Stomp by the lived-dangerously Jelly Roll Morton – both heard in distinctive arrangements by Gunther Schuller, whose own jazz innovations warrant revival as his centenary approaches.
Between these pieces, Erwin Schulhoff’s Suite for Chamber Orchestra was a reminder of this composer’s usage of jazz as part of a lifelong and tragically curtailed stylistic odyssey. While the faster numbers recall the wit of Poulenc’s early chamber music and irony of Stravinsky’s suites for theatre orchestra, the Valse Boston – its moody violin solos hauntingly rendered by David Juritz – and Tango admit of an introspection and pathos to the fore in those works from Schulhoff’s last years. Qualities which are here side-lined by the uproarious final Jazz.
It is almost 94 years since Ernst Krenek’s Jonny spielt auf took the German-speaking world by storm, and though its highly Viennese take on jazz lacks the satirical edge as achieved by Weill, the present Fantasie devised by Emil Bauer gives a fine overview of this opera in all its attendant strengths and weaknesses. Abetted by diaphanous orchestration (with its oddly hymnic role for harmonium), the slower sections conjure no mean expressive fervour, while the closing pages exude an affirmation which never feels brittle or forced in its demeanour.
Darius Milhaud had also fastened on to the exuberance of jazz, here with Brazilian overtones, in his ballet Le boeuf sur le toit – as heard in the rarely revived ‘cinéma-fantaisie’ version for violin and orchestra. Perhaps the often equivocal nature of the solo part has mitigated against wider acceptance, but Zoë Beyers took its technical demands confidently in her stride while remaining aware of its ‘first among equals’ status – notwithstanding the strategically placed cadenza (by no less than Arthur Honegger) that brings the soloist unashamedly centre-stage. Credit, too, to the members of the ESO (suitably attired throughout) for having rendered this music’s teasing rhythmic inflections with unfailing poise, and to Kenneth Woods for teasing the maximum finesse from out of Milhaud’s entertaining while not a little provocative score.
It was, indeed, a fine showing all round and would have been ideal before that ‘end of year’ party which circumstances have regrettably made impossible. This event was still a highly positive means of seeing out the old year and welcoming in a much to be anticipated 2021.
You can watch the concert on the English Symphony Orchestra website from 7.30pm on Thursday 31 December 2020here
For more information on the English Symphony Orchestra you can visit their website here
Before finishing for Christmas and New Year celebrations, I wanted to offer some thoughts on the musical year that has been 2020. And what a year. I doubt we will experience its like again, that’s for sure – and those of you reading this will no doubt have had some incredible challenges to overcome, or have been instrumental in helping other with their challenges. Everything is firmly in perspective, that is for sure.
In the year of a global pandemic, as in all times of strife, music has been there offering a consoling shoulder to lean on. Much of my listening this year has been of the ambient kind, a place of retreat when all has been too frenetic / inhuman / scary. Music has really shown us its true colours again this year, offering the required escape route along with some real inspiration.
Live music, of course, has suffered greatly, and my thoughts are with all those musicians and people working behind the scenes in the arts, their lives irrevocably affected by COVID. As listeners we thank them for their remarkable resilience and inventiveness, bringing live-streamed concerts of such quality they have been the best possible substitute for the real thing. Wigmore Hall set the scene in June, and many others have followed. The orchestras and choirs should be held in the highest regard for their efforts.
Needless to say I did not attend many concerts in 2020, but two of great note were from soprano Louise Alder (above) and pianist Joseph Middleton, showcasing their exceptional album Lines written during a sleepless night at Wigmore Hall in January, and the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment under Iván Fischer performing the last three Mozart symphonies at the Royal Festival Hallin February.
I wanted to share with you my favourite music on record this year. It was of course Beethoven 250, and my aim was to listen to the composer’s entire works. That aim continues, but the deadline has been extended massively! It is proving a thoroughly enjoyable experience but circumstances mean it has taken much longer than expected. To enjoy the listening project to its full potential, I look forward to reconvening with the first Sonatas for cello and piano in 2021, and taking it over the finishing line later in the year.
This year’s new releases have been extremely fine – and I have eight to share with you here, beginning with Steven Osborne’s remarkable disc of three Prokofiev piano sonatas on Hyperion. This appeared at the same time as the Coronavirus and felt like a direct response to it. Prokofiev was writing these works during the Second World War, in part a reaction to intense world and personal strife, and what a performance they get from the Hyperion pianist. You can read about them here
On the orchestral front, John Wilson and his Sinfonia of London came out with a simply outstanding program of French music. Escales did the wonderful job of blending seasoned favourites such as Chabrier’s España with gems that benefited from a dusting off – Duruflé’s Trois Danses and Ibert’s Escales among them. My thoughts on the disc are here
One of the most striking contemporary releases this year capped a fine showing from KennethWoods, both with the English Symphony Orchestra and–ashere–withthe BBCNationalOrchestraofWales. Philip Sawyers’Symphony no.4 and Hommage to Kandinsky are captured by Richard Whitehouse in this review of two exceptional pieces of new music, given great performances under conductor Kenneth Woods.
Of the electronica that I mentioned, there are some rather special examples. First among them is Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith’s The Mosaic Of Transformation, an enchanting journey of vividly coloured musical motifs. I attempted to describe them and their impact here
For something closer to home, Erland Cooper’s Hether Blether signed off his Orcadian trilogy with deeply emotive recollections and portraits of home. Complementing the previous instalments Solan Goose and Sule Skerry, it was a life affirming, communal piece of work uniting thoughts at just the right time. You can read Arcana’s interview with Erland here
Meanwhile Bruce Brubaker & Max Cooper took a minimalist composer as their inspiration for Glassforms, a set of electronic reworkings of the music of Philip Glass. Rather than simply dress up the originals, it is an imaginative and very well thought-out set of recastings, detailed here
Also taking inspiration from similarly minimal sources were New York’s Bing & Ruth, through the excellent Species long player. You can read about ithere – and the background to the album in an emotive interview with leader David Moorehere
On the other end of the scale sit Rick Wakeman and the English Rock Ensemble. After a series of stripped back piano albums this is Wakeman at his progressive best, in the company of some exceptional musicians, creating some dramatic and involving music. You can read Arcana’s review here – and an extensive interview with the keyboard wizard here
For music of great verve and positivity, drummer Tony Allen’s collaboration with trumpeter Hugh Masekela, posthumously published, took some beating. The recordings were made in 2010, but were unfinished at the time of Masekela’s death. The passing of Allen himself this year lent their completion extra poignancy. It was the closest I could find to pure musical joy in 2020, as documented here!
Meanwhile, returning after a long break was Charles Webster, making Decision Time – an album of very fine, futuristic soul and deep house. Much has changed since we last heard from Webster in this way, but his musical values remain the same, as reported here
It is not too much of a stylistic shift from Webster to Róisín Murphy, where we find my personal album of the year. Róisín Machine is a brilliant combination of Murphy’s effervescent, spiky personality and some really fine future disco, created with the help of Crooked Man (aka Richard Barratt). As noted here, it has the resilience and strength in the face of adversity we all needed in 2020, but crucially the sense of fun we will still need – and will surely get back – in 2021. Happy Christmas!
