Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta John Corigliano. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta John Corigliano. Mostrar todas las entradas
lunes, 1 de marzo de 2021
domingo, 26 de abril de 2020
martes, 22 de octubre de 2019
Tesla Quartet / Alexander Fiterstein JOY & DESOLATION
Following its hugely acclaimed debut on Orchid Classics, the Tesla
Quartet returns alongside clarinettist Alexander Fiterstein in works by
Mozart, Finzi, John Corigliano and Carolina Heredia.
In its latest Orchid release, the Tesla Quartet offers fresh and
vibrant interpretations of repertoire ranging from the Classical epoch
to the present day. Mozart’s exquisite Clarinet Quintet finds an
outstanding advocate in this performance by Alexander Fiterstein, and
Finzi’s autumnal Bagatelles, originally composed for clarinet and piano,
are heard here in a delightful arrangement by Christian Alexander.
Contemporary American composer John Corigliano wrote his deeply-moving
Soliloquy in memory of his late father, and Argentinian composer
Carolina Heredia wrote Ius in Bello in 2014 as a fascinating exploration
of social justice, using Latin-American popular styles to add colour
and depth to the work’s tensions, its dream-like quality evoking the
desire for peace.
viernes, 7 de septiembre de 2018
Anne Akiko Meyers MIRROR IN MIRROR
With the exception of Ravel, Anne collaborated with all of the
composers and arrangers on this album. Several of the works were written
for her. The music is reflective and spiritual, and weaves a beautiful
story. Philip Glass’ Metamorphosis II is heard in an arrangement commissioned by Anne. The original work inspired Fratres by Arvo Pärt, whose Spiegel im Speigel (Mirror in Mirror) provides the album’s title. John Corigliano’s Lullaby for Natalie
was written to commemorate the birth of Anne’s first daughter. Anne has
commissioned numerous works by Jakob Ciupinski who combines acoustic
instruments with electronics in Edo Lullaby – a modern setting of a traditional Japanese melody that Anne recalls from her childhood – and Wreck of the Umbria
which conjures the composer’s dive and discovery of the ship off the
coast of Sudan. Ciupinski contributes electronics to Ravel’s Tzigane,
re-creating the sound of the original version’s lutheal. The album is
capped by another Anne commission – the premiere recording of Morten
Lauridsen’s own arrangement for violin and orchestra of his most famous
choral composition, O Magnum Mysterium.
viernes, 3 de agosto de 2018
Sung-Soo Cho MAXIMUM | MINIMUM | MODERN
domingo, 25 de marzo de 2018
Lara Downes & Friends FOR LENNY
Could there be a more perfect pairing than Leonard
Bernstein and Lara Downes? Each incarnates the American spirit in
resplendent manner, the former in his magnificent writing and the latter
in her captivating piano playing. True to her generous nature, Downes
has shared the credit for her tribute to Bernstein on the occasion of
his hundredth birthday with “friends,” four of who accompany her on four
of the twenty-eight tracks. But said credit could be extended beyond
those participants to the many composers, among them Stephen Sondheim,
Marc Blitzstein, and Ned Rorem, whose own Bernstein tributes appear. One
of the more surprising things about the release is that while a
generous amount of his own material is included, world premieres written
by others appear too. Selection details aside, two things in particular
distinguish For Lenny, Downes's always exquisite playing, of
course, but also the audacity of Bernstein's lyrical writing and his
bountiful melodic sensibility. In her hands, his songs sing.
A mere scan of the set-list reveals one of the
project's greatest strengths: rather than exclusively feature
well-known Bernstein material, Downes instead chose less familiar
pieces, seven of them “Anniversaries” he wrote for family and friends on
their birthdays, Aaron Copland, Lukas Foss, and Sondheim among the
latter. In an imaginative move, that gesture's returned in kind by
figures such as John Corigliano, Daron Hagen, Shulamit Ran, Theo
Bleckmann, and Eleonor Sandresky, whose personal Bernstein tributes were
written in some cases during his lifetime and in others were newly
composed for this project. Such an inspired programme is the kind of
thing we've come to expect from Downes, a justly admired artist whose
discography includes homages to another great American artist, Billie
Holiday, as well as America itself.
As mentioned, four pieces feature guests:
Kevin “K.O.” Olusola (a member of the a cappella group Pentatonix)
beatboxing on “Something's Coming”; clarinet prodigy Javier
Morales-Martinez (whom Downes discovered through the national Young
Artists program she founded at the Mondavi Center, UC Davis) on “Cool”;
and roots singer Rhiannon Giddens and baritone Thomas Hampson on “So
Pretty” and “A Simple Song,” respectively. Each collaboration is
memorable in its own way, Olusola's for the fresh spin his treatments
bring to one of Bernstein's better-known songs and the vocalists' for
the contrast their radiant presence adds to an otherwise instrumental
collection. While all four pieces would no doubt have impressed had they
been performed by Downes alone, the inclusion of the extra colours the
guests provide is hardly objectionable.
Most of the twenty-eight pieces are miniatures
(only three edge past the four-minute mark), but they never feel
slight; Downes's urbane execution and bright articulation make even the
most fleeting piece seem substantial. Bernstein's own material ranges
from saloon-styled blues (“Big Stuff”) and playful reveries
(“Anniversary for Craig Urquhart”) to chromatically adventurous
explorations (“Anniversary for Nina”); the tributes likewise differ in
tone, many of them, including those by Corigliano, Urquhart, Sandresky,
and Sondheim heartfelt, tender, and wistful; the ones by Stephen
Schwartz and Michael Abels, on the other hand, are declamatory,
emblematic of Bernstein's high-spirited side (Abels's is even titled
“Iconoclasm/for Lenny”).
Among the standouts are poignant renderings
of justly beloved Bernstein settings such as “The Story of My Life” and
“Some Other Time” and Ricky Ian Gordon's “What Shall We Remember?”;
never is Downes's artistry more evident than during her debonair
treatments of such elegiac fare. One would have to be hard-hearted
indeed not to be inspired and galvanized by her example. At a historical
moment when an abundance of ills makes despair a not unreasonable
choice, her music-making symbolizes an unwavering belief that the world
and its people have the capacity to make things better. Such an
infectious and life-affirming stance makes resignation seem like a
cowardly choice.(Textura / March 2018)
viernes, 9 de febrero de 2018
Elina Vähälä / Lahti Symphony Orchestra / Jaakko Kuusisto THE RED VIOLIN
Jaakko Kuusisto may be one of his generation’s leading violin
virtuosos but he features here as composer and conductor, leaving the
pyrotechnics to the phenomenally talented Elina Vähälä (aka Mrs Ralf
Gothóni). And what a show she puts on here, in two full-blooded
21st-century concertos of Romantic, or at least conventional, idiom,
rich in melody, orchestral texture and expressive purpose.
Corigliano’s Concerto will be familiar to many, having been both assembled from the music to Girard’s film The Red Violin
in 1997 and in part the progenitor to it. Corigliano pre-composed the
opening Chaconne as an independent work so that the actors had a piece
they could mime to in the film, but in 2003 added three further
movements, including a magical Pianissimo Scherzo, to make a
full-size concerto that his namesake father – former concertmaster of
the New York Philharmonic – would have liked to play. Vähälä’s vibrant
account is a match for Bell’s – and three minutes faster in the Chaconne
– and fleeter and more exciting throughout, with superior sound, than
Ludwig on Naxos. (In the Chaconne, Vähälä outpaces Chloë Hanslip, too,
but expressively matters are more even here.) Kuusisto’s own Concerto (2011) is a colourful and dramatic score, although he has confessed to
no extramusical inspiration. The original idea was for a concertante
work using unusual and electronic instruments but over time it
transformed into the present vivacious half-hour-long concerto of
relatively conventional stamp. The finale’s rhythmic drive and
alternating lyricism are immensely appealing. The disc opens with the
playful overture Leika (‘Child’s Play’, 2010 – not the similarly-named Soviet space dog). Excellent performances and sound. (Guy Rickards / Gramophone)
sábado, 22 de noviembre de 2014
Anee Akiko Meyers THE AMERICAN MASTERS Barber - Corigliano - Bates
While I have written many program notes for my own CDs, this is the first time that I have done so for other composers.
There is a reason I agreed so readily to do it this time: Both composers have shared the intimate quality of mentorship with me – Samuel Barber was my mentor, and I was Mason Bates’s mentor. That sense of connection extends to the artists heard here: Anne commissioned both the concerto and lullaby from Mason and me, and Leonard Slatkin, a close friend of mine, has championed all three composers on this disc. Three generations of friendship and shared ideas are captured in this recording.
I met Samuel Barber in the 1960s after sending him my setting for chorus and orchestra of Dylan Thomas’s Fern Hill. He sent it on to his publisher, G. Schirmer, with a recommendation to publish it, and they agreed. I asked Hans W. Heinsheimer, at the time the famous head of publications at Schirmer, if I could meet Barber, and he arranged for me to see him. At the meeting, Barber gave me some important criticisms of my work, in addition to a lot of encouragement, and this occasion began a mentorship that lasted through the rest of his lifetime. I would show him my work, and he always had something important to say about it. As I developed and grew older, our relationship also grew into a deep friendship that lasted until his death in 1981.
I met Mason Bates, then a Juilliard student, when he brashly interrupted a dinner party I was giving. While my guests stayed in the dining room, he explained that although he knew my studio was full, he had to study with me. I made an exception and took him on as an extra student, both because I had heard his music and felt he had enormous potential, and because of his conviction that working with me would help him. We worked together for several years, and after graduating, he went off into the world and has established a considerable reputation. Mason and I have become colleagues and friends, and even now, he often speaks to me about works he is immersed in. So the mentorship (and friendship) continues… (John Corigliano)
There is a reason I agreed so readily to do it this time: Both composers have shared the intimate quality of mentorship with me – Samuel Barber was my mentor, and I was Mason Bates’s mentor. That sense of connection extends to the artists heard here: Anne commissioned both the concerto and lullaby from Mason and me, and Leonard Slatkin, a close friend of mine, has championed all three composers on this disc. Three generations of friendship and shared ideas are captured in this recording.
I met Samuel Barber in the 1960s after sending him my setting for chorus and orchestra of Dylan Thomas’s Fern Hill. He sent it on to his publisher, G. Schirmer, with a recommendation to publish it, and they agreed. I asked Hans W. Heinsheimer, at the time the famous head of publications at Schirmer, if I could meet Barber, and he arranged for me to see him. At the meeting, Barber gave me some important criticisms of my work, in addition to a lot of encouragement, and this occasion began a mentorship that lasted through the rest of his lifetime. I would show him my work, and he always had something important to say about it. As I developed and grew older, our relationship also grew into a deep friendship that lasted until his death in 1981.
I met Mason Bates, then a Juilliard student, when he brashly interrupted a dinner party I was giving. While my guests stayed in the dining room, he explained that although he knew my studio was full, he had to study with me. I made an exception and took him on as an extra student, both because I had heard his music and felt he had enormous potential, and because of his conviction that working with me would help him. We worked together for several years, and after graduating, he went off into the world and has established a considerable reputation. Mason and I have become colleagues and friends, and even now, he often speaks to me about works he is immersed in. So the mentorship (and friendship) continues… (John Corigliano)
lunes, 25 de noviembre de 2013
Hélène Grimaud / Esa-Pekka Salonen CREDO
The piano's crashing opening chords herald what seems for the first three minutes like a solo work. Then comes a tentative dialogue with the lower strings, after which - equally tentatively - the woodwind enter. Human voices arrive almost as an afterthought. This was a fantasy indeed, written at such speed that the musicians got their parts with the ink wet. As the piano reworks the simple musical ideas on which the whole edifice is based, we get a strong whiff of what Beethoven's celebrated improvisations must have been like. In 1808 he'd earned little, and his friends encouraged him to put on a four-hour concert of his own works in order to refill his coffers. But this late addition was no mere space-filler: bringing order out of chaos, moving from darkness to light, and prefiguring the final theme of his Ninth Symphony, it reflects Beethoven's genius at full tilt.
Beethoven: Sonata in D minor, op. 31 no. 2 "The Tempest"
Beethoven himself didn't give this work its name - according to his early biographer Schindler, the composer declared that the work could be understood by reading Shakespeare's play - but from the moment the first theme breaks free from the cavernous opening chord, it certainly is tempestuous. That chord seems to pose a question, to which - after a long journey through darkly dramatic landscapes - the last notes come like an answer. This sonata was one of three composed in the village of Heiligenstadt in 1802, at a time when Beethoven was growing deaf, and in near-suicidal despair. Here he was at his most heroic: on the one hand, his "Heiligenstadt Testament" confided his woes to posterity (while concealing them from his contemporaries); on the other, he was creating masterpieces of coiled energy like this.
Beethoven himself didn't give this work its name - according to his early biographer Schindler, the composer declared that the work could be understood by reading Shakespeare's play - but from the moment the first theme breaks free from the cavernous opening chord, it certainly is tempestuous. That chord seems to pose a question, to which - after a long journey through darkly dramatic landscapes - the last notes come like an answer. This sonata was one of three composed in the village of Heiligenstadt in 1802, at a time when Beethoven was growing deaf, and in near-suicidal despair. Here he was at his most heroic: on the one hand, his "Heiligenstadt Testament" confided his woes to posterity (while concealing them from his contemporaries); on the other, he was creating masterpieces of coiled energy like this.
John Corigliano: Fantasia on an Ostinato
As one of the American composers finding a way forward without abjuring tonality, Corigliano is blazing a fascinating trail. In this work from 1985 his aim has been "to combine the attractive aspects of minimalism with a convincing structure and emotional expression". The foundation is the famous theme of the second movement of Beethoven's Seventh Symphony, with Corigliano exploiting the repeated rhythmic motive as well as the harmonic pattern. (Michael Church)
As one of the American composers finding a way forward without abjuring tonality, Corigliano is blazing a fascinating trail. In this work from 1985 his aim has been "to combine the attractive aspects of minimalism with a convincing structure and emotional expression". The foundation is the famous theme of the second movement of Beethoven's Seventh Symphony, with Corigliano exploiting the repeated rhythmic motive as well as the harmonic pattern. (Michael Church)
Music is about emotional communication. Give it a try, and don't
think you have taken the wrong road when perhaps you just have not gone
far enough. After all, what is to come does not need to be discovered so
much as invented. (Hélène Grimaud)
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