Another July Ramble

Grant Chu Covell

[July 2024.]

“Responses to Ligeti.” György LIGETI: Ten Pieces for Wind Quintet (1968). Miklós LUKÁCS: Asst. comps. (2023). Cimbiosis Trio: Miklós Lukács (cimbalom), György Orbán (cbs), István Baló (perc); Ligeti Ensemble: Orsolya Kaczander (fl), Dániel Ella (ob), Csaba Klenyán (clar), Bálint Mohai (bsn), János Benyus (hrn). Budapest Music Center Records BMCCD330 (1 CD) (www.bmcrecords.hu).

An octet of wind quintet plus jazz trio (cimbalom, bass and percussion) transforms Ligeti’s ten with assertive responses, like newspaper columns colorfully annotated with backstories and superimposed “where are they now” sidebars. Ligeti’s precisely notated miniatures, sometimes minimal, sometimes Webernian, become anchors for discoveries. The jazzers may comment afterwards, or a “Response” might emerge from Ligeti, or Ligeti may shake out from the Cimbiosis Trio’s doodling. Lukács’ cimbalom twang is quite the thing, roughly contrasting the smooth winds (between Ligeti’s Nos. 5 and 6), ghostly on its own, or a powerful catalyst (concurrent with No. 7). I’ve circled back to this one quite frequently to catch detailed glimpses of Ligeti and because the pacing is quite expert.

“Joe Hisaishi in Vienna.” Joe HISAISHI: Symphony No. 2 (2021); Viola Saga (2023)*. Antoine Tamestit (vla)*, Wiener Symphoniker, Joe Hisaishi (cond.). Deutsche Grammophon 6500149 (2LPs, 1 CD) (www.deutschegrammophon.com).

Decades ago, Miyazaki’s fantastical animated movies were wonderful discoveries. I thought the sweeping tonal scores effective but no more. However, like Miyazaki, Hisaishi has his passionate followers. In March of 2023, he conducted the Wiener Symphoniker at the Musikverein in his Second Symphony, and later in the year returned to Vienna with Tamestit to record Viola Saga.

Hisaishi’s work is bluntly motivic, his streaming lines rooted in childhood tunes manipulated with minimalist techniques. The sparkling orchestration suggests Adams, except Hisaishi lacks Adams’ irony, and unlike Nyman or Andriessen, Hisaishi keeps to standard orchestral forces. There are moments when Hisaishi’s tonality and rhythm equals Copland or Bernstein. The three-part Symphony convinces more than Viola Saga which keeps Tamestit busy but doesn’t soar at all like the Symphony. Hisaishi does not seem to obsess over harmonic progressions (as Glass might), although the viola concerto does borrow Bach sequences.

“Contemporary American Composers.” Jessie MONTGOMERY: Hymn for Everyone (2021). Max RAIMI: Three Lisel Mueller Settings (2018)*. Philip GLASS: Symphony No. 11 (2017). Elizabeth DeShong (m-sop)*, Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Riccardo Muti (cond.). CSO Resound CSOR 901 2301 (1 CD) (www.symphonystore.com).

I’m coming around to what contemporary means these days. Here’s another release of recent pieces which don’t actually say anything new. Montgomery’s opener is nice, clearly heartfelt. The Hymn’s reliance on tonality sounds like so many things heard before, and audiences will expectably lap it up. Raimi steps forward from his perch within the CSO (violist) with three settings by Lisel Mueller, and musically we plunge back to an unspecified post-Expressionistic European period.

What does it mean that I enjoy the Glass the most? With the late octogenarian (b. 1937) the familiar tics and progressions unfold easily. The central movement did drift languorously, but the last movement’s percussion closes strong. Glass does permit hearing orchestral splendor, whereas the more intricate Raimi (and presumably Montgomery) come across as muddled.

Olli MUSTONEN: String Quartet No. 1 (2016); Piano Quintet (2014). Engegård Quartet: Arvid Engegård, Alex Robson (vln), Juliet Jopling (vla), Jan Clemens Carlsen (vlc), Olli Mustonen (pno). Lawo Classics LWC1243 (1 CD) (www.lawo.no).

I have been delighted to have discovered Mustonen’s compositions. If Bartók and Shostakovich, or even Schumann, are your cup of tea, then Mustonen will be a thrilling discovery. The string quartet follows a traditionally patterned four movement design, but Mustonen employs a sort of cyclic development, where melodic shapes and chord progressions reappear unexpectedly transformed. Some of his methods, like lengthening just one note in a motif, recalls Balkan vocal music which requires tight coordination given the continually changing meters and rhythm. The Engegårds are up to the task, and with the composer they offer the three-movement Piano Quintet. Mustonen’s expertise as a player perhaps accounts for a straightforward score which hides its complexities. Slight changes of rhythm, tempo or scoring yield astonishing results. On rehearings, I hear new things, charmed by Mustonen’s cleverness.

“Complete Music for Cello and Piano.” Morton FELDMAN: Durations 2 (1960); Composition for cello and piano (1951); Sonatina (1946); Two Pieces (1948); For Stockhausen, Cage, Stravinsky, and Mary Sprinson (1972); Patterns in a Chromatic Field (1981). Stephen Marotto (vlc), Marilyn Nonken (pno). Mode Records 340/341 (2 CDs) (www.moderecords.com).

“Completeness” always appeals. Indeed, this double-set is an excellent way to appreciate Feldman’s breadth, though honestly, Patterns in a Chromatic Field, not just because it’s the longest, is the collection’s focus. The “complete” umbrella yields up a juvenile Sonatina, two brief pieces from Feldman’s “study” with Wolpe, a small collection written the year after the pivotal meeting with Cage (Composition for cello and piano), a graphic piece in two performances (Durations 2), and a scrap with a curious title (For Stockhausen, Cage, Stravinsky, and Mary Sprinson).

New to the world is the first recording of the once 20-year-old composer’s Sonatina. Written without actual familiarity with the cello, some parts are impracticable. Suggesting a collection of Soviet-era miniatures, Feldman’s tonal motifs prefer both players’ high registers.

Patterns is an excellent onramp into Feldman’s late style. The ideas are distinctive, the material immensely varied and compelling. As the not-quite-identical repetitions flow past, there are sublime moments and places where you just have to laugh out loud.

I have always marveled at Patterns’ opening: Like a simmering hurricane, the cello oscillates unevenly across four notes while the piano emits staggered chords. On paper, we see metric and harmonic complexity: the cello must subdivide an 8/32 measure into 9, the piano’s corresponding 4/16 measures may require division into 5s or 3s. Pitches are spelled in a typically obtuse late-Feldman fashion: the cello has B-double-flat, A-flat, F-double-sharp, A-sharp in its first collection while the piano is limited to D, E-flat and F-flat. Seeing a diminished third (D to F-flat) at the top of a chord is so strange.

I could listen to Patterns all day. Considering releases mentioned before (Mayr and Anissegos, Marco and Giancarlo Simonacci, and Deforce and Oya), I appreciate Marotto and Nonken’s fluidity and intentional disunity. Knowing the piece, it’s refreshing to hear two people playing together in a boldly disinterested fashion. The repeats surprise more as do the changes of mood. At near 90-minutes, this marathon is less about delivering Feldman, but a continual game of leapfrog where piano or cello may lead, or separate, or get stuck.

“Music in Exile: Chamber Works by Dmitri Klebanov.” Dmitri Lvovich KLEBANOV: String Quartet No. 4 (1946)¹; Trio No. 2 (1958)²; String Quartet No. 5 (1965)³. ARC Ensemble: Erika Raum^1,3, Marie Bérard^1,2,3 (vln), Steven Dann^1,3 (vla), Thomas Wiebe^1,2,3 (vlc), Kevin Ahfat² (pno). Chandos CHAN 20231 (1 CD) (www.chandos.net).

The life and career of Dmitri Klebanov (1907-1987) was ground down by the alternately capricious and relentless Soviet machine. As a Jewish Ukrainian he was persecuted in multiple waves: When Russia suppressed Ukrainian culture in the 1920’s and 30’s and during WWII and when Ukrainian Jews were punted to Uzbekistan. Klebanov’s First Symphony (1945) was dedicated to the memory of those who were murdered at Babi Yar (Shostakovich’s Thirteenth appeared much later in 1962). It was premiered in 1947 in Kharkiv, but the Soviet state eventually banned it and Klebanov’s career suffered. During the Khrushchev era, Klebanov did gain more standing, but his music is largely unknown outside of Ukraine.

These three well-built pieces are recorded for the first time. Kudos to the ARC Ensemble for bringing these back to life. The Fourth Quartet is dedicated to the memory of Ukrainian composer Mykola Leontovych (1877-1921), an ardent separatist. Klebanov uses several Leontovych themes. The quartet opens with Leontovych’s familiar “Little Swallow,” or “Carol of the Bells.” Here in the West, this tune is used during Christmastime to sell jewelry, and it would probably astonish listeners to learn that its composer was likely assassinated by the secret police.

The Fourth and the Second Piano Trio are similar in style with songs and folk tunes being developed in a lively tonal manner. Trio No. 2 can be breezy and Romantic. Imagine Shostakovich (a friend to Klebanov) emulating Dvořák. The Fifth Quartet is more modern, perhaps as adventurous as once could be in the Soviet Union in the mid-60s, nearly atonal, but with a system of its own, like Hába.