Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Emmanuel Chabrier. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Emmanuel Chabrier. Mostrar todas las entradas

viernes, 16 de noviembre de 2018

Sophie Karthäuser / Eugene Asti LE BAL DES ANIMAUX

A mirror for the human animal The inhabitants of the animal kingdom have long been a subject of fascination for visual artists, and a source of inspiration for composers as well. Whether voicing their affection and awe, or mocking the human animal, composers have paid tribute to our furry and feathered friends by producing masterpieces of invention, musical mimicry, and wit. Peacocks, ducks, dromedaries, pigs, butterflies, carp, cicadas, and owls are just some of the creatures in the menagerie assembled for this recording, featuring the mischievous voice of Sophie Karthäuser, deftly accompanied by Eugene Asti.

lunes, 17 de septiembre de 2018

Anne Queffélec ENTREZ DANS LA DANSE...

The same qualities as on her delightful cornucopia ‘Satie & Compagnie’ (4/13) are on display again in Anne Queffélec’s programme of dances from the belle époque and inter-war periods in France. All the composers were either disciples or pupils of one another or personal friends. Stylistically, it is easy to hear the cross-references: ‘Their works engaged in dialogue, nourished and interpenetrated each other’, as the excellent booklet has it. You can hear Faure’s Le pas espagnol, for instance, either as an affectionate tribute to or tongue-in-cheek pastiche of Chabrier. It was Fauré who provided early inspiration for the Catalan Federico Mompou, the sole outsider in nationality on this album (though not in terms of musical style) and whose Canción y Danza No 4 opens proceedings.
Again, Queffélec mixes the familiar with the less well known, with enough of the latter to entice any pianophile to invest and pianist to track down the sheet music (as an example, your reviewer has now finally got round to having a serious look at Poulenc’s Suite française). Her approach to the music is one of enchanting simplicity. No show, no grandstanding; she beckons the listener to leave what they are doing, if they wish, and to come over and join her. Minimum pedal, lovely finger legato, each note of these economically scored pieces intimately projected and made to tell.
Le pas espagnol, mentioned above, is one of five (out of the 24) tracks in which Queffélec is joined by Gaspard Dehaene. Notwithstanding the exuberant nature of this and a few others (Massenet’s Valse folle first among them), the general tenor of the 82-minute programme is one of reflection and introspection, a welcome balm, and warmly recommended. (Jeremy Nicholas / Gramophone)