BUNKR’s album The Initiation Wellproved to be one of the sleeper electronic hits of 2019, showing off the ability of Brighton’s James Dean to present an album of really well thought out electronica.
Now as a companion piece he has commissioned an album’s worth of remixes, with eight very different interpretations ranging from Digitonal to preston.outatime.
What’s the music like?
Both calming and invigorating, in equal measure. The collection is presented in a logical order, so we begin with a dreamy Digitonal remix of For The Birds, setting the scene beautifully as the track is left in suspension, bisected by a soft piano.
Fujiya & Miyagi do a typically fuzzy take on Solitary Drift, with added flutter and distortion that suits it really well – and their own half-whispered vocals. Octavcat then ensure Solar Wings takes off with its broad chords and busy rhythm.
The upfront, block beats of preston.outatime take Left For Dust to a tougher dancefloor, while Jonathan Krisp gets some acidic squiggles going against the slow moving backdrop of The Initiation Well itself. East Of Eden acquires more bleeps and movement, a really nice glitchy bit of techno applied by Lextron, while the remix of Docking Procedure finds Infinite Scale going under the surface with a head-nodding bit of dub. Finally label heads Echaskech apply their typically robust beats to a heady remix of Left For Dust.
Does it all work?
Yes. Importantly this set of remixes works as an album too, such is the intelligent arrangement of different tempos, textures and beats. All the BUNKR originals are complemented but remain recognisably the work of Dean himself.
Is it recommended?
Very much so. If you liked the original album you’ll find this imaginatively realised remix collection complements it perfectly.
Saint-Saëns
Rhapsodie d’Auvergne Op.73 (1884)
Piano Concerto no.3 in E flat major Op.29 (1869)
Allegro appassionato in C sharp minor Op.70 (1884)
Piano Concerto no.5 in F major Op.103 ‘Egyptian’ (1896)
Louis Lortie (piano), BBC Philharmonic Orchestra / Edward Gardner
Chandos CHAN 20038 [66’51”]
Producers Mike George and Brian Pidgeon Engineer Stephen Rinker
Recorded 13 January 2018 (Rhapsodie d’Auvergne), 20 & 25 February 2019 (other works), Media City UK, Salford, Manchester
Written by Ben Hogwood
What’s the story?
This is the second installment of Saint-Saëns piano concertos from Louis Lortie, Edward Gardner and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. It completes the cycle of five they have been recording for Chandos.
Saint-Saëns’ Piano Concertos tend to be overlooked in the concert hall, with only occasional performances for no.2 and no.5, which was written in part during a holiday in Egypt. Their neglect is unfortunate, as there is much to enjoy as the pieces unfold. The demands on the solo pianist may be considerable, but the rewards outweigh the effort required for sure.
What’s the music like?
This new release offers the Piano Concerto no.3 in E flat major, still a relatively early work, where Saint-Saëns builds on the influence of Beethoven and Liszt to create a piece with memorable themes and unusual formal devices. We then move to his later period and the Piano Concerto no.5, the ‘Egyptian’. This is a daring piece in the sense that Saint-Saëns was not following the trend of modern music set by the post-Wagner composers, or the new sound worlds offered by Debussy and Ravel. Instead he was writing for the virtuoso pianist in a descriptive and positive sense – conventional but stretching the established ‘rules’ of the concertos. This piece is ultimately fun and packed with tunes, while asking the soloist to achieve some pretty difficult technical feats. There is a faint exoticism capturing the carefree mood of the composer on vacation.
Topping up the positive outlook are the Rapsodie d’Auvergne and the Allegro appassionato, both shorter pieces for piano and orchestra with a similarly sunny outlook. The Allegro appassionato has more drive, while the Rapsodie is a breezy piece for the great outdoors. As the booklet writer Roger Nichols observes, it is based on a tune the composer ‘heard sung by a peasant washing her clothes in a stream in the Auvergne. As such, it is possibly the only folksong from France that Saint-Saëns ever included in his music’.
Does it all work?
Yes. This is extremely positive music, celebrating the combination of piano and orchestra with a good deal of energy.
The concertos are nicely balanced. The better known Fifth, stacked high with good tunes, finds Ed Gardner keen to develop its exotic air with the lush textures of the BBC Philharmonic strings in the first movement. There is a dramatic salvo to begin the second movement, where Lortie gets the melodic inflections just right, then an exotic minimalist passage towards the end, cutting to a real flight of fancy into the finale. Lortie gets a terrific substance to the sound of the lower end of the piano.
The Piano Concerto no.3 if anything fares even better, its status elevated well above the derivative thanks to the stress on its memorable themes. There is a heroic air to the piano part that Louis Lortie develops very nicely, and his commanding performance gives the piece its essential forward drive.
The Rhapsodie d’Auvergne is a bubbly piece, starting softly but gaining ground during the development of its theme. There are brief connections with Brahms before an effervescent and watery sequence, with excellent work in the right hand from Lortie.
Meanwhile the Allegro appassionato is a red-blooded affair very much in the vein of Liszt, asking the soloist for a few feats of athleticism while remaining close to the composer’s melodic heart.
Is it recommended?
Yes. This is an ideal release for banishing any lingering winter blues! There may be some really good recordings around already of the concertos, thanks to Stephen Hough and the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra under Sakari Oramo (Hyperion), and looking further back the classic 1980s recordings made by Pascal Rogé and the London Philharmonic Orchestra with Charles Dutoit (Decca).
These sparkling new versions, beautifully recorded, offer a great deal of passion and panache, and at the very least take their place alongside the best..
Listen
Buy
You can listen to clips from this disc and purchase a copy at the Chandos website here
Most people hate January…but then, from early on in our chat, it is clear Emika is not one of them. “I love January, it’s the one!” she gushes. “Everyone’s moping around, but I’m just on it doing all my work so I can relax in the summer! Everywhere is cold and dark in Berlin currently but I really love it at this time of year.”
We have connected to talk about the many and varied musical projects in which she is currently involved. Head of the queue is new piano album Klavirni Temna, a sequel to 2014’s Klavirni – about which she became Arcana’s very first interviewee in 2014. A lot has changed in her life since then, in particular the arrival of a baby girl. The new addition is heavily connected to Klavirni Temna, of which more later – but first Emika is talking about how her music is developing.
“My creativity is getting a lot worse now I’m a mother! I’m doing more and more, I’m collaborating a lot more. I have a new label concept, working with a lot more artists, and working in much more creative zones. There are things that don’t fit my Emika project but I can do them on someone else’s record. I call it having music kittens, lots of them!”
Klavirni Temna can be thought of as the pedigree in the litter. While the new release schedules and streaming platforms are packed with solo piano records, it has a distinctive voice of its own, and when heard on headphones (listen above!) it is like having someone in the room next door. “That’s what I wanted”, she affirms. I like the feeling that someone’s actually performing, a person in a time and a moment. All the pieces and improvisations are ones that didn’t have mistakes in them, and they were recorded on my phone. Then I went back to them, racked up on a lot of things and recorded them properly.”
Emika was effectively recording for two. “It’s a particularly interesting record because I wrote it while I was pregnant, and I could feel how the baby was responding to the music. When it went too dark I could feel the baby didn’t like it, and it got more uncomfortable! I finished the record and was in a rush, so I whacked plug-ins on it and thought it would be nice, I could put it out, and concentrate on becoming a mother. But when I’d had the baby it sounded rushed and clean, and not really me. I re-did it and used broken, dirty, dusty tape compression and delay. I wasn’t sure what to do, I had the test presses and didn’t know, so I put the test presses on and my daughter came in. She was listening, and then came over and tapped my stomach and said ‘mummy sound’! She understands the piano as being home and me. Forever we have this sound connection, and it’s one of a kind, a strange musical thing.”
Her Czech musical ancestors wrote similarly intimate pieces for piano, the likes of Dvořák, Suk and Janáček putting down some of their most private thoughts in suites and individual pieces, such as the Janáček example played by Piotr Anderszewski above. Emika is no different. “The piano’s my notebook. It feels like a black pencil and a white piece of paper, and it’s how I can set down to work.”
Each of the pieces is identified as Dilo, which means ‘moment’ in Czech. “It is exactly like that, and I feel akin to it”, she says. “Janáček made a lot of pieces for his children, and that was a big confidence boost to me. If he’s done it I will do it! Since the first Klavirni album solo piano has become so popular and trendy, and that’s why I wanted to develop the sound this time. Usually my music is not so trendy but this feels like the height of the trend! And it is five years since I did the last Klavirni album. It’s cool – it could have gone either way, but this release makes the other one safer if you know what I mean.”
There are unexpected twists and turns as the album develops, meaning the listener is kept on their toes while experiencing the darkly meditative scores. Dilo 31 is an example, dropping in pitch as it progresses in an affecting and slightly disturbing way. “The engineer couldn’t believe I wanted it that way, he was really confused! I think bending the piano’s pitch afterwards rather than playing it live is cool.”
Emikae loves the escapism playing the piano affords. “My studio is close to a forest, and that’s what I see when I’m playing, with the weather changing. The piano is right by the window, so it’s connected to the outside world. I’ve shifted from a dark Berlin room to a lofty space outside. The studio is a work in progress, and it’s really inspired by Earthship. I saw how Michael Reynolds builds houses from trash, using glass bottles and tyres. The houses capture energy and heat from the sun and have their own ecosystem, and you can grow food too. I’ve been researching solar power, and the goal is to have somewhere sustainable, rather than being part of a grid system. I am trying to downsize, to not use too much energy and to do more with less. The piano is the ultimate instrument for that…synthesizers, not so much!”
Her enthusiasm for the move is contagious. “The first step was to move out of the city. Then I wanted to look at designs, and to get architects. I’m really inspired by the Tiny House movement, and I would love to build a tiny house studio. You can run them with solar power, and reuse your waste. It’s all about getting ready for the next era of survival and energy, and it’s making me think very differently about shrink wrap, vinyl and all those things. It’s difficult in the digital age to replace that with something meaningful, but we will find a way!”
Now she’s fully installed in the German countryside, Emika can devote more time to her second symphony project. “It’s inspired by the economist Jeremy Rifkin, who delivered a talk with VICE on YouTube (below):
I looked him up and just e-mailed him. I let his chief of staff know that I wanted to do a piece of music inspired by his work, and to my surprise he got back to me! Melanfonie, my first symphony, looked back to the past, but this one is looking 300 years into the future. I’ve been experimenting with using Maxim SP to play synthesizers, deciding what they play with a set of conditions that you program in first. It plays for half an hour, and I’ve got about 80 recordings, each one of them getting better with the process. Now I’d like to get the orchestra to play those parts.”
Emika’s willingness to embrace both the analogue sounds of the piano and the future digital ways of working is inspiring, each complementing the other in her music. “The more we understand technology, the closer it’s getting to nature and feels like it will save it again. I would like this symphony to be a live process. With Melanfonie everyone got it on the CD after, and didn’t get the live experience. For this symphony the idea is to do it in front of a live audience, with no click track or headphones. That creates a lot of pressure, but if you’re going to do it it’s the best thing you can do. This time I want to have synthesizers and to perform with the orchestra. That was the feedback, to have some bass-heavy, epic stuff going on!”
Klavirni Temna, Emika’s second piano album, is released on Friday 14 February on Emika Records. You can listen to extracts and order the album on Bandcamp here:
You can read more detail about Emika’s studio set-up on the Music Tech website (opens in a new window)
Lucie Horsch (recorder, above), Thomas Dunford (lute, below)
Wigmore Hall, Monday 10 February 2020 (lunchtime)
You can listen to this concert on the BBC Sounds app here (opens in a new window)
Review and guide by Ben Hogwood
The recorder does not appear to have great appeal or exposure to the concert-going public, yet with a few more concerts like this from Lucie Horsch and Thomas Dunford could change that perception very quickly indeed.
The Dutch player Horsch is still only 20, but she demonstrated incredible virtuosity and command of the four or five different instruments she called upon in this recital. Not only that but her musical instincts were extremely sound, her communication with equally stylish lute player Thomas Dunford borne of friendship and a shared enjoyment of the music. It said much that when the solo pieces were being performed, the instrumentalist not involved listened closely and often smiled in response to the phrases they heard.
The well-planned concert was packed with music from the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries, with a brief excursion to the 20th for a brave and brilliantly realised arrangement of Debussy’s Syrinx. That appeared fourth in a list of 11 pieces from no fewer than 10 composers, performed in four logical blocks.
Horsch and Dunford started together with the Sonata Seconda in stil moderno by Venetian composer Dario Castello (from 1:58 on the broadcast link). If you listen you will hear the purity of the recorder’s tone, on a soprano instrument, and the mottled sound of the lute which complements it ideally. It may sound as though Dunford is playing with a very relaxed air, but watching him confirmed there is a lot of work going on behind the scenes for the part to sound so instinctive. As the sonata unfolds here Horsch demonstrates her bravura in the faster music.
Dowland’s Preludium (7:31) follows, a subdued, slightly downcast piece for lute that works well as an introduction for Horsch’s own arrangement of the famous song Flow, my tears (12:19). Here the two communicated beautifully, even with the vocal line slightly tampered by the recorder’s limitations on producing vibrato.
This is followed by the Suite no.5 in F from the French composer Charles Dieupart, a set of six dance movements prefaced by an Ouverture (16:35). The dances are an Allemande (17:46) with an attractive lilt, then a lively and spiky Courante (20:54); both are countered by a slower Sarabande (22:11). Then comes a Gavotte with a spring in its step (24:24), a Menuet en rondeau (25:19) and finally a lively Gigue (26:46), where Dunford’s lute strumming gives a good snap to the rhythms.
We then jump forward over 200 years for Horsch’s own arrangement of Debussy’s famous solo flute piece Syrinx (28:48). This is a remarkable performance, given the definition Lucie gets from the very difficult lower notes on her recorder. Here the subdued but sonorous tones take on an exotic and faintly South American air.
She turns to a slightly smaller instrument for the Philidor, a Sonata in D minor with four movements. It begins with a slower introduction (32:16), an intricate fast movement with the players swapping melodies (34:33), an elegant Courante (35:37) and a much more deliberate Les notes égales et détachez (36:45), which blossoms into a lively fast section.
For the next sequence of three pieces we get an idea of how far the performers have looked for this programme, with a really nice blend of moods and colours. Les Voix Humaines (40:26), an arrangement of a piece for solo viol by Marin Marais, is subdued but stylish in Dunford’s solo lute performance. That blends into the enchantment of François Couperin’s nightingale, strongly evoked by Horsch in Le rossignol-en-amour (44:00). Horsch then gives a short but moving dance from Dutch composer Jacob van Eyck (46:35). Recercadas by Diego Ortiz (48:47) is a florid response, with the lute strummed like a guitar. Then comes the remarkably modern sounding world of Joan Ambrosio Dalza’s Calate ala spagnola (51:30), with repeated notes anticipating tremolos in much later guitar music, brilliantly played by Dunford before the music fades away.
Finally the MaraisCouplets de folies (54:48), a set of variations on the famous tune La Folia. Dunford’s lute sets out the theme before the recorder enters. Its lines grow in difficulty, and there were some eye-popping moments of virtuoso brilliance from Lucie Horsch here. With the two performers sat together they still cut a relaxed presence, as though both were performing in your own front room. An unnamed encore, unfortunately dropping off the end of the broadcast, encapsulated the bright and instinctive music of the previous hour.
Repertoire
This concert contained the following music (with timings on the BBC Sounds broadcast in brackets):
Castello Sonata Seconda in stil modern (published 1629) (1:58) Dowland Preludium (7:31); Flow my tears (12:19) (both 1600) Dieupart Suite No. 5 in F major (publ. 1701) (16:35) Debussy Syrinx (1913) (28:48) Philidor Sonata in D minor (publ. 1712) (32:16) Marais Les Voix Humaines (publ. 1701) (40:26) François Couperin Le rossignol-en-amour (publ. 1722) (44:00) van Eyck Lavolette (publ. 1646) (46:35) Ortiz Recercadas (unknown, 16th century) (48:47) Dalza Calate ala spagnola (unknown, 16th century) (51:30) Marais Suite in D minor – Couplets de folies (Les folies d’Espagne) (publ. 1701) (54:48)
Further listening & viewing
The music from this concert can be heard in the playlist below, with some of the repertoire appearing on Horsch and Dunford’s most recent release Baroque Journey. The original versions of Dowland’s Flow, my tears and Marais’ Le Voix Humaines are included.
Baroque Journey is itself a very enjoyable listen, showing off the complementary talents of both of the soloists in this concert:
Meanwhile the music of Charles Dieupart can be explored in the company of Henry Purcell, both composers’ music for recorder making up this album from Hugo Reyne and La Simphonie Du Marais:
Finally a link to the remarkable music of Marin Marais and the second book of his Pièces De Viole, played by the masterful Jordi Savall:
Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment / Iván Fischer
Royal Festival Hall, Southbank Centre, London
Friday 7 February 2020
Mozart
Symphonies: no.39 in E flat major K543; no.40 in G minor K550; no.41 in C major K551 ‘Jupiter’ (all composed in 1788)
This concert was recorded for broadcast on BBC Radio 3 on Wednesday 12 February. You can listen to it here
Reviewed by Ben Hogwood
Few orchestras inspire their audience as consistently as the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. Tonight was no exception, presenting ‘Mozart’s Final Flourish’ – his three final symphonies, nos. 39-41, written unusually in a short space of time, without commission, in 1788. The three works represent Mozart’s mastery of the symphonic form, and as conductor Iván Fischer explained to us before the performances began, there is an argument for the three works being viewed as one.
Fischer structured the concert to support his point, the trinity performed in order but with the interval positioned between the second and third movements of the Symphony no.40. This did not prove as much of a hindrance as expected, for the ‘one giant stucture’ – seen as such by no less than Nikolaus Harnoncourt, Fischer’s teacher – was merely paused half way through. Fischer encouraged applause between movements, a tactic which fragmented the performance a little but added to the relaxed atmosphere and will have encouraged first-time attendees.
The performances were very fine indeed. Symphony no.39 in E flat major, no.543 in Köchel’s catalogue of Mozart compositions, does not always get the appreciation it deserves. This is a shame as it is a wonderfully affirmative work, packed full of good tunes that responded well to the orchestra’s lean sound and fresh phrasing. The slow movement Andante was really nicely characterised, its middle section appropriately stern, while the busy finale chattered excitedly, Fischer leading the conversation.
The Symphony no.40 in G minor came as something of a shock to audiences with its ‘Sturm und drang’ approach, in keeping with Haydn and other artistic movements of the day but clearly plumbing emotional depths for the composer. The first movement was tautly argued, relenting a little for the Andante which was perhaps too relaxed in tone. When we returned after the interval the Menuetto disappeared rather quickly, with Fischer’s brisk tempo and an absence of repeats, while the fourth movement brought more abstract qualities to the fore before its final flourish.
And so to the Symphony no.41 in C major, nicknamed the ‘Jupiter’ 40 years or so after its publication. What a remarkable achievement this is, its surface simplicity masking complex inner workings with the serenity of a swan. Fischer, who smiled throughout, revelled in another fine performance, typified by the extra spring given to the exuberant second theme of the first movement. The tender heart of the Andante cantabile was aided by a lovely muted string sound, while the floated delivery from the violins helped the deceptively straightforward themes in the Menuetto. All this was headed for the finale, however, and its masterful fugue. This conversation between parts is the closest thing to perfection in Mozart’s symphonic writing, and the OAE relished both their individual parts and the ensemble workings resulting from them, building enough kinetic energy to sweep us home.
This was a thought provoking and ultimately uplifting evening, and the ideal setting of the scene for anyone moving on to Beethoven next!
Further listening and viewing
A reminder that this concert was recorded for broadcast on BBC Radio 3 on Wednesday 12 February. You can listenhere
You can find out more about the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment on their website, and you can get an introduction to them in a minute through the video below:
The orchestra appear not to have recorded Mozart’s last three symphonies, but their one-time guest conductor Frans Brüggen made these excellent live recordings with the Orchestra of the 18th Century. They sit relatively closely to the sound heard at this concert:
Arcana.fm 