Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Amy Beach. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Amy Beach. Mostrar todas las entradas
jueves, 15 de julio de 2021
martes, 11 de mayo de 2021
lunes, 2 de noviembre de 2020
domingo, 20 de septiembre de 2020
martes, 14 de julio de 2020
martes, 2 de junio de 2020
sábado, 14 de septiembre de 2019
Tasmin Little / John Lenehan CLARA SCHUMANN - DAME ETHEL SMYTH - AMY BEACH
The renowned violinist and exclusive Chandos artist Tasmin Little
returns with a line-up of three women composers whose lives share some
features but also significant differences that illustrate the complex
lives of female musicians.
Clara Schumann, Dame Ethel Smyth, and Amy Beach all came from
families that encouraged their musical interests but balked, in varying
degrees, at professional training and engagement. All three composers
draw on the influence of Robert Schumann and Brahms; Beach and Smyth, in
particular, were fond of metrical and motivic manipulation.
Tasmin Little plays this music, so close to her heart, with her usual
warmth and dexterity. The manuscript of Clara Schumann’s final chamber
work, Three Romances, declares it ‘for piano and violin’, an
ordering reflected in the relative complexity of the parts, the florid
passagework here played beautifully by Little’s long-term collaborator,
John Lenehan.
lunes, 11 de febrero de 2019
Shani Diluka ROAD 66
However, Diluka’s faster-than-usual tempo for Cage’s In a Landscape rescues this music from its usual frozen dream state. Her enervated, flaccid approach to Keith Jarrett and Bill Evans is alien to these jazz icons in both spirit and letter; in fact she misreads Waltz for Debby’s fourth-to-last chord. But Diluka plays the piano part to Raphaël Merlin’s brilliant, harmonically imaginative arrangement of Cole Porter’s ‘What is this thing called love’ gorgeously, abetted by special guest Natalie Dessay’s sultry singing. Had the two paired up for an entire CD’s worth of Merlin-arranged standards, I would have stayed up all night behind the wheel to listen, rather than squirming in the back seat to the tune of ‘Are we there yet? Are we there yet?’ (Jed Distler / Gramophone)
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