A PASSIONATO

posted by James Reel

If you’ve been frustrated by the utter failure of the iTunes music store and other download purveyors to handle classical music in a logical way that is rational to classical-music lovers—in other words, not littering the catalog with crossover junk, making it easier to search by composer than by artist—a new download service has just opened in Britain. It’s called Passionato, and, not having tried to purchase anything myself, I’m not sure whether or not it’s legal to use in the U.S. (prices are given in pounds only, not dollars). But the site does look interesting. Passionato has tracks from Naxos and the Universal group (DG and such), and probably some other sources. But possibly not enough yet.

I did two sample searches to see how easy it would be to buy music by prominent B-list composers Albert Roussel and Walter Piston. Answer: There are several items available for each, but the offerings don’t reflect the breadth of material available on CD from a source like Arkivmusic.com or Amazon.com. (Piston would be in big trouble at Passionato if Naxos hadn’t taken a shine to him.) Furthermore, although it’s better than iTunes, the database has been compiled by people who don’t always know what they’re doing, especially when it comes to figuring out performers. The performer in Piston’s String Sextet, for example, is given as “Kuchar.” That’s actually the conductor of some of Piston’s orchestral pieces, not the name of the ensemble that plays the Sextet. And, even more tellingly, a Chandos recording of the Vaughan Williams “London” Symphony is credited to a conductor named “Williams.” Presumably as in “Vaughan Williams.” It’s actually Richard Hickox. And this is for a recording that Passionato is pimping on its home page.

I’m not entirely impressed, but the new company may yet get these things under control. You can read about the company’s launch here.

GAY OLD TIME

posted by James Reel

In the latest Tucson Weekly, I preview an arts sampler at an unusual performance location, and review two plays that happen to feature gay characters. This is how the preview begins:

It's a safety officer's worst nightmare: a warehouse full of Japanese and Afro-Brazilian drummers, fire artists, aerial dancers and--those most insidious threats to public order--mimes. Rhythm Industry Performance Factory hasn't yet run afoul of the law, and so far, there's been no need to station ambulances at the ready in the parking lot. But we'll see what happens when all the Rhythm Industry resident ensembles converge on the "factory" at once for a public sampling of their works in progress. This weekend brings Rhythm Industry's first quarterly review. Note that the word employed is "review," as in a literary quarterly, rather than "revue," as in a variety show. It's an evening of performance, not magazine-reading, but all the participants are very serious about their work. Besides, the facility isn't intended to serve as a performance venue; it's an arts-incubation space, where groups can rehearse, and build and store sets and instruments and costumes. The only reason the resident ensembles have decided to present a performance sampler there four times a year is to raise money to help pay the mortgage.

You’ll find the complete story here. Once you’ve digested that, you can move on to my two-in-one theater review:

It's been a long time since "gay" meant "happy." Certainly the homosexual characters in two plays that opened last week have more than their share of trouble; even though the plays they inhabit start out as comedies, the trouble quickly takes over at Live Theatre Workshop in its late-night production of Dog Sees God, and at Alternative Theatre Company's mounting of Dirty Secrets. In Bert V. Royal's Dog Sees God: Confessions of a Teenage Blockhead at LTW, the Peanuts gang has gotten 10 years older and gone to high school. If you think Charlie Brown was depressed when he was in elementary school, you should see him now. To skirt copyright law, Royal has billed his play as a parody and changed the characters' names a bit, but you know who they really are: Charlie Brown is now called CB; his sister, Sally, is now referred to merely as "CB's sister," and she has gone goth; Linus Van Pelt, now called Van, is a stoner who smoked the ashes of his security blanket when it was burned by his sister (formerly known as Lucy), who is a promiscuous pyromaniac who's been institutionalized and doped with lithium. Tricia, the former Peppermint Patty, and her sidekick, Marcy, are mean girls who make catty remarks about everyone while sneaking booze into the high school cafeteria. The piano-playing Schroeder is now called Beethoven, but he's going through some changes: He's developed an interest in Chopin, and he may be gay. This disgusts Matt, the former Pig Pen, who has internalized his filth; on the outside, he's a compulsive clean freak, but on the inside, he's a vicious homophobe. This is not a pleasant crowd. Instead of calling CB a blockhead, they now yell, "You faggoty asshole." Good grief! At least when they go to a party, they still dance to Vince Guaraldi.

The full review of both plays awaits you here.

LAST WORDS

posted by James Reel

Here are reviews I wrote for Fanfare of recordings of the last, incomplete works of two prominent Austrian composers ...

BRUCKNER Symphony No. 9 * Marek Janowski, cond; Suisse Romande O * PENTATONE PTC 5186 303 (hybrid multichannel SACD: 62:01)

In order to appreciate this release, it’s necessary to put some prejudices aside. First, the Suisse Romande playing Bruckner? Well, this is not the sour, scrappy band it was 50 years ago under Ansermet, and today it is fully capable of producing a sufficiently dense, rich Bruckner sound. Second, there’s Marek Janowski, a conductor with a great many ho-hum recorded performances on disc, mostly operas (including some rarities, by the likes of Krenek and Hindemith). Janowski’s Ring cycle many years ago was hopelessly dull from the orchestral standpoint, so the prospect of Janowski taking on Bruckner, Wagner’s ultimate acolyte, wouldn’t seem promising.

Forget all that, though, and what can be heard in this new surround-sound disc is a mostly effective Bruckner Ninth, even if it doesn’t rise to the level of the finest Bruckner Ninth performances (Furtwängler, Giulini, Jochum, and Wand, among others). The best work comes right at the beginning. The opening minutes don’t sound as disjointed as usual, the sudden contrasts now cohering into a unified statement before dying away to be replaced by the drawn-out, lyrical second theme. Other moments later in the symphony stand out: the ominous urgency of the second movement’s Trio, not as incongruously light-hearted as it sometimes comes across; the carefully shaped crisis-climax in the third movement. In between, conductor and orchestra coast along, never at a less than professional level, but without maintaining the focus they display in the most effective passages.

Typically of PentaTone, the DSD recorded sound is vibrant and precise. The sonic image reflects exactly what’s shown in a booklet photo, with brass and timpani positioned far in the back. I also imagine that I can hear them coming from the higher elevation shown in the photo, but that’s probably just the power of suggestion.

If you must have a surround-sound Bruckner Ninth, this is an honorable choice, but it’s not the last word on the symphony. James Reel

MOZART Requiem * Colin Davis, cond; Marie Arnet (sop); Anna Stéphany (ms); Andrew Kennedy (ten); Darren Jeffery (bs); London SO; London S Cho *LSO 0627 (hybrid multichannel SACD: 50:35) TEXT (live performance: 9-10/2007)

Colin Davis has already recorded the Süssmayr edition of Mozart’s Requiem for Philips and RCA, and done so well. This new production doesn’t amplify the conductor’s conception of the work, so the only real selling point is its DSD surround sound. Sonically, this is one of LSO Live’s better efforts, less acoustically claustrophobic than many of its Barbican recordings, yet not swallowed up in reverberation.

Generally, this is a satisfying performance. With a chorus of 89 and an orchestra of 62, it has heft, but Davis keeps things from turning sluggish. The Dies Irae, for example, is notably fast and turbulent, with an incisiveness frankly missing from his treatment of the score’s opening pages. On the other hand, the final, fugal Cum sanctus tuis is comparatively short of drama and fervor. As will happen in concert, some of the (choral) ensemble work is slightly imprecise, and there are a few very brief and minor intonation lapses from a soloist or two. And the heavily trilled R at the beginning of every “Rex” just sounds silly.

I seem to have been concentrating on flaws, but obviously most of them are quite minor, and all in all this is an intelligent, well-balanced mainstream performance. Still, if you’re shopping for a modern-instrument Mozart Requiem, a better choice would be Runnicles on Telarc (it’s the Levin edition). That performance is more consistently ominous and theatrical, partly because of the fuller bass in the chorus and the recording itself, and also because of the conductor’s more detailed dynamic shaping. James Reel

WHY PHOENIX SUCKS, CHAPTER 134

posted by James Reel

An Arizona Republic columnist rightly complains about low architectural standards in the Valley of the Sun. Very true, but I wonder how smug we can be here in Tucson? The public buildings aren’t uniformly horrible, but the real travesty is the expanse of indistinguishable, cheaply built, overpriced stucco hutches metastasizing through the suburbs. It wasn’t always thus; Tucson once boasted at least one distinctive domestic and commercial architect.

CONCERTO REVIEWS

posted by James Reel

Here are a couple of reviews I wrote a few months ago for Fanfare, covering very recommendable recordings of concertos by Mendelssohn, Tchaikovsky and Glazunov ...

GLAZUNOV Violin Concerto TCHAIKOVSKY Souvenir d’un lieu cher; Violin Concerto * Vadim Gluzman (vn); Andrew Litton, cond; Bergen PO * BIS SACD 1432 (hybrid multichannel SACD: 70:58)

There have been many, many fine recorded performances of Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto, more than a couple of Glazunov’s, and no doubt many more will arrive in the next few years. Do we need Vadim Gluzman’s new traversal of these scores? Yes, indeed. While it’s impossible to classify this or any other version of the Tchaikovsky as the absolute best, Gluzman’s certainly stands among the finest.

First, there’s Gluzman’s tremendous virtuosity—not the showy sort, but the kind that makes the pyrotechnics sound absolutely natural and musical. Just consider those double stops in the last movement of the Tchaikovsky, or nearly any bar in the tricky Glazunov, all featuring faultless intonation. The playing is both impeccable and elastic; you never have the sense that Gluzman is tightening up at the hard parts.

Then, there’s Gluzman’s lyric ardor. These aren’t the hottest performances available, but they do sing warmly, without making the music turn to goo. One can find greater nobility or poise in some other performances of the Tchaikovsky slow movement, and more throaty darkness in the low notes of some other Russian soloists. But that’s why we collect multiple renditions.

There are some interesting connections here. Gluzman separates the two concertos with Glazunov’s orchestration of Tchaikovsky’s three-movement Souvenir d’un lieu cher; he also performs on a 1690 Strad that once belonged to Leopold Auer, the (reluctant) dedicatee of the Tchaikovsky concerto and the man who premiered the Glazunov. Surely none of this affects Gluzman’s performance, but it does bring a special sense of heritage to the project.

Andrew Litton leads the Bergen Philharmonic in perky, alert accompaniments, soaking in a warm ambient bath. The orchestra lacks the presence it enjoys in its Grieg series for BIS—the most beautiful orchestral sonics I’ve ever heard—but it puts across what’s necessary here.

There are already other choices for this music on SACD, notably the slightly sweeter-toned Julia Fischer on PentaTone (with the Tchaikovsky works on one disc, the Glazunov on another). If you already have Fischer’s recordings, it’s less imperative to obtain Gluzman’s, but either artist’s discs would be a superb addition to either a basic or a comprehensive collection. James Reel

MENDELSSOHN Violin Concertos: in e (original version); in d. Concerto in d for Violin, Piano, and Strings. Capriccio Brillant. Rondo Brillant. Serenade and Allegro Giocoso. Piano Concertos: in a; No. 1 in g; No. 2 in d. Concertos for Two Pianos: in E; in A-flat * Isabelle van Keulin (vn); Ronald Brautigam, Roland Pöntinen, Love Derwinger (pn); Lev Markiz (cond); Amsterdam Sinfonietta * BIS SACD 1766 (two-channel SACD: 255:55)

Here’s the third incarnation of a series recorded in the mid 1990s. First, it came out on four separate CDs, then in a four-for-the-price-of-three box, and now on a single SACD. This is not a surround-sound version, but BIS takes advantage of the SACD’s great storage capacity to place four and a quarter hours of music onto a single platter. Note that although it’s a conventional two-channel production, this disc is compatible only with SACD players.

If you invest in this very satisfactory set, you’ll still need someone else’s recording(s) of the standard version of Mendelssohn’s popular E-minor Violin Concerto. What we have here is the original, pre-Ferdinand David version. Aside from a bit of inferior passagework, this is not a weak work that was vastly improved by David’s expert advice; this initial version is merely different, not worse. It’s less of a violin showpiece; David advocated moving passages up an octave, adding lots of extra double stops, expanding the first-movement cadenza, and so on, to produce a more brilliant effect. In the original version, Mendelssohn tends to employ sighing or dying phrases where later he would heighten the drama with rising sequences. The version we know is largely heroic assertion, whereas the early version is more of a Romantic struggle whose outcome is never assured, even if the stakes don’t seem as high as in, for example, the Sibelius concerto.

Three of the other concertante works are products of Mendelssohn’s teen years: the D-minor Violin Concerto, the A-minor Piano Concerto, the Violin-Piano Concerto, and the Two-Piano Concertos date from 1822-24, and inhabit the sound world of Mendelssohn’s early string symphonies (except for the two-piano works, the soloists are accompanied by string orchestra), although the Violin-Piano Concerto often comes off more as a chamber duo with string-orchestra commentary. The remaining works for single piano and orchestra are more mature products of the 1830s.

The soloists tend to play with the requisite nimbleness and spirit, although the two-piano works would benefit from greater verve, not just the precision offered here. Pianist Ronald Brautigam’s contributions are especially sparkling and impetuous, and Lev Markiz leads the Amsterdam Sinfonietta in fully complementary accompaniments (although the Piano Concerto No. 1 could use a slightly larger orchestra to convey the music’s storm and stress more fully).

These performances don’t necessarily outclass certain old favorites—Rudolf Serkin and Murray Perahia in the numbered single-piano concertos, Argerich and Kremer in the piano-violin work—but they serve the scores well, and present attractive music in a space- and money-saving little package. James Reel

LOOKING THE PART

posted by James Reel

Terry Teachout has posted an old thought piece expressing ambivalence over whether or not opera singers should be attractive. This is an old subject I wrote extensively about in the Star more than 10 years ago, and I won’t repeat my whole argument here, but it boils down to this: Those who claim that what’s most important in opera is the music are simply wrong. Opera by design is dramatic stage work, and all elements of the staging, including direction and casting, are every bit as important as the musical element. Singers who don’t look the part don’t belong there. Let them stick to recitals and oratorios and audio recordings. In straight theater, nobody would accept a 300-pound lump in the role of a waif, and it shouldn’t be acceptable in opera, either. (There are good parts available to 300-pound singers, but Cio-Cio San ain’t one of them.) I simply cannot comprehend how there can be any argument about this.