Clyne: Mythologies (CD Review)

Jennifer Koh, violin; Irene Buckley, voice;
Marin Alsop, Sakari Oramo, Andrew Litton, and André de Ridder conductors; BBC
Symphony Orchestra. Avie AV2434.

By Karl W. Nehring

One of the many exciting and rewarding aspects of the
classical music hobby is discovering recordings by composers with whom you are
not familiar. Over the past year or so this has been my experience with the
remarkable music of the British-born composer Anna Clyne (b. 1980), who now
resides in upstate New York. Having discovered some performances of her music
on YouTube, I had hoped to find more of her music on CD and was pleased to be
able to review her cello concerto, titled “Dance,” which was paired on a
previous Avie release with a fine performance of the Elgar Cello Concerto (https://classicalcandor.blogspot.com/2020/08/clyne-dance-cd-review.html).
The good folks at Avie have subsequently followed up that fine release with Mythologies, an all-Clyne program
featuring five orchestral works that she composed between 2005 and 2015.

All of the performances are by the BBC Symphony Orchestra
and all were recorded in live concert. The program opens with a brief (4:57) but
rousing curtain-raiser conducted by Marin Alsop. Masquerade opens with a
bang and a flourish, the whole orchestra joining in the fun with swirling
strings, pounding percussion, and swirling brass. Then comes a big theme,
sounding like the main title theme from a grand Hollywood western. There are
brief dance-like sequences, the piece feeling like a mad, feverish dream
culminating in a big finish with brass, strings, and percussion -- a lot of
excitement packed into just under five minutes.

Next up is This Midnight Hour, conducted by the BBC
Symphony Orchestra’s Chief Conductor, Sakari Oramo. It opens with a churning
motif in the lower strings, soon overlaid with contributions from the woodwinds
and brass while the percussion section adds drama to the sound. On her website,
Clyne writes that “the opening to This Midnight Hour is inspired by the
character and power of the lower strings of L'Orchestre national d'Île de
France [who gave the premier performance]. From here, it draws inspiration from
two poems. Whilst it is not intended to depict a specific narrative, my
intention is that it will evoke a visual journey for the listener.” Given the
title, it seems appropriate that as the performance unfolds we hear a spooky
melody from the clarinet followed by ominous-sounding contributions from brass
and tympani. As the music continues to develop, we hear some more movie-music
sounds, a waltz rhythm, and more churning in the lower strings. Finally, as we
get closer to the finish line, the music becomes quieter for a minute or so
before erupting once again at the very end, punctuated by the sound of the bass
drum.

Oramo also conducts the next piece, titled The Seamstress,
which features the violin of Jennifer Koh. Something of a non-virtuosic violin
concerto, the piece also features the voice of Irene Buckley whispering lines
from a poem by Yeats. The way the voice is blended in is rather spooky,
especially as it first enters with little breaths and sighs that suddenly
appear of out sonic nowhere, jumping at times from channel to channel. To be
honest, the inclusion of the voice strikes me as one of those ideas that may
have been effective in an actual live concert, but can be distracting on a
recording, especially upon repeated listening. In any event, Buckley’s voice is
recorded as a whisper, which helps keep it from overly distracting from the
music itself, which often features folk-sounding melodies and is really quite
appealing overall, squarely in the English tradition of composers such as Ralph
Vaughan Williams, but with a 21st-century sensibility.

Another poem, Night Ferry by the Irish poet and Nobel
Laureate Seamus Heaney, provides the inspiration and title for the next work on
the program, in a performance conducted by Andrew Litton. From the program
notes on her website, Clyne explains that “Night Ferry is music of
voyages, from stormy darkness to enchanted worlds. It is music of the conjurer
and setter of tides, the guide through the ‘ungovernable and dangerous.’
Exploring a winding path between explosive turbulent chaoticism and chamber
lyricism, this piece weaves many threads of ideas and imagery. These stem from
Riccardo Muti’s suggestion that I look to Schubert for inspiration as Night
Ferry will be premiered with Entr'acte No. 3 from Rosamunde
and his Symphony No. 9 (Great). The title, Night Ferry, came from
a passage in Seamus Heaney’s “Elegy for Robert Lowell,” an American poet who,
like Schubert, suffered from manic depression:

‘You were our Night Ferry
thudding in a big sea,
the whole craft ringing
with an armourer's music
the course set wilfully across
the ungovernable and dangerous.'"

After the quiet ending of the previous cut, the drum bang
that opens Night Ferry heralds a different mood. This ferry ride is no
quiet, romantic cruise on a moonlit night, but rather a perilous journey
through storm-swept waters, the blackness of the sky above and waters below
illuminated only intermittently by flashes of lightning. Clyne illustrates the
scene vividly with swirling strings above and pounding drums below. There are
some brief interludes where the storm loses its ferocity, but the music then
again rises in intensity as the storm begins to rage again as the mysterious
voyage late at night continues. At about 15 minutes into the musical voyage, we
encounter the terrific pounding of the bass drum, recalling for some of us the
audiophile passages of Telarc recordings of days past. But then there is some
calm, with soft melodies in the woodwinds. As we near the end of our night
voyage and stare to see the harbor lights, the music takes on a more ominous
tone, with the tempo slowing. We begin to feel that the storm may be ready to
rage again before we can safely dock, but the music fades peacefully as we
reach the end of our perilous journey.

The album concludes with <<rewind<<,
conducted by André de Ridder. Clyne describes this piece as “inspired by the
image of analog video tape rapidly scrolling backwards with fleeting moments of
skipping, freezing and warping.” Hmmmmm. I don’t know about you, but for me, that
is not exactly a description that really whips up my desire to hear such a
composition. Thankfully, however, the music itself is much more enjoyable than
that description might lead us to believe. Once again, the music begins with a
vigorous drumbeat and continues with a strong sense of motion and drive. As the
music continues and the tape rewinds, that Telarcian bass drum again makes a
cameo appearance, but we also encounter some lovely violin. The music builds up
to a rousing ending that features quite a jolt.

Considering that the recording sessions for the music took
place in two different venues (Barbican Hall for all but Masquerade, which was
recorded in the Royal Albert Hall) in different years ranging from 2011
(<<rewind<<) to 2018 (This Midnight Hour) by several
different engineering teams, the overall sound quality is remarkably
consistent, a testament to the large body of recording work done by the BBC
with their orchestra. They have the experience to know what works best and they
strive for consistent quality. This may not be the very finest audiophile
sound, but it is very good indeed.

Overall, this is a wonderful recording of music by a
composer who deserves wider recognition. I fervently hope that more recordings
of music by Ms. Clyne will be forthcoming, as she has a vivid imagination and a
wondrous talent for orchestration. Brava!

Bonus Recommendation: Although it might help, you
would not need to be a big fan of British music to enjoy the music of William
Alwyn (1905-1985). Although he is virtually unknown in the United States, he
was quite a prolific composer, with five symphonies, four operas, several
concertos, chamber music, piano music, and something like 200(!) film scores to
his credit. He was a virtuoso flautist who played in the London Symphony
Orchestra for a time and was involved in organizing musicians, teaching
composition, and evaluating scores for possible presentation by the BBC. His
music is modern-sounding, yet quite “listenable.”

The Naxos catalog contains a good sampling of Alwyn’s music,
including all five of his symphonies, all five of which are excellent
compositions deserving of a wider audience. The recordings are spread over
three CDs featuring the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra led by David
Lloyd-Jones. Naxos 8.557648 includes Symphonies Nos. 1 and 3. No. 1
begins with a barely audible opening hush that blossoms into a full-scale
symphony of four movements. The orchestration is masterly, and you can get a
sense of why Alwyn was called upon so often to compose movie scores. Not that
the music sounds like film music, but rather because the orchestration is so
colorful and effective. No. 3 is more intense and focused, with
insistent rhythms that at times yield to lushly lyrical passages of quiet
beauty. Only after enjoying many hearings of this work did I read how Alwyn had
employed something of a 12-tone technique, using eight notes for the first
movement, the remaining four for the second movement, and then all 12 for the
finale. For those who associate 12-tone composition with impenetrable
dissonance, this work will be quite an ear-opener. Well worth a listen!

KWN

To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

Clyne: Dance (CD Review)

Also,
Elgar: Cello Concerto. Inbal Segev, cello; Marin Alsop, London Philharmonic
Orchestra. AVIE AV2419.

By
Karl W. Nehring

A
while back I came across the name of composer Anna Clyne. I can’t remember
exactly where or when, but my guess it was some reference to her in either a
music publication or, more likely, something I saw on Twitter. In any event,
not long after that, I mentioned her name to Bill Heck during the course of a
phone conversation. To my surprise and delight, Bill responded that he and his
wife had attended a concert by the Pro Musica Chamber Orchestra in Columbus,
Ohio, where they had both been greatly impressed by a piece titled Within  Her Arms – a piece written by none other
than Anna Clyne.

Intrigued,
I checked Amazon for a recording, but alas, there was none to be found. I was
soon able to audition it, however, thanks to YouTube, where I found a video of a
live performance. Like Bill and Mary, I too was greatly impressed. I quickly
sent the link to another music-loving friend, who was also impressed. How is
this wonderful music not yet available on CD?!

Fast-forward
several months and I see an ad in Gramophone for a CD featuring a work
titled Dance by Ms. Clyne. My interest is aroused to the point that I
immediately submit a request for a review copy. Fast-forward another couple of
weeks and Dance shows up in  my
mailbox. Fast-forward another hour or so (hey, it was dinnertime) and Dance
is spinning in my CD player, where it has since remained on heavy
rotation.   

Anna Clyne

London-born
composer Anna Clyne (b. 1980), who now resides in upstate New York, composed Dance
as the result of a commission from Israeli-American cellist Inbal Segev, who
premiered the work at the 2019 Cabrillo Festival. Segev has now recorded the
piece with the LPO under the direction of conductor Marin Alsop, who had first
introduced Segev to Clyne. Dance comprises five moments with rather
unusual titles: I. when you’re broken again; II. if you’ve torn the bandage
off; III. In the middle of the fighting; IV. in your blood; V. when you’re
perfectly free. In the liner notes, Clyne, whose own instrument is also the
cello, explains that “I knew that I wanted to write a multi-movement work in
which each movement had its own personality, its own character. I’ve known this
Rumi poem for a while and always thought it would be a good source of
inspiration – it’s short, has repetition, a clear form of five lines and a
strong physicality (for example, ‘broken open,’ ‘in your blood’). It also has a
sense of urgency that I found compelling for this piece. It was a great way to
structure the piece – to break it up into the five lines of the poem.” 

The
first movement is slow, lyrical, and utterly beautiful. When I first listened
to it, I was surprised that it did not seem at all dance-like. Only later, upon
finally reading the liner notes, did I realize that Dance was never
intended to be a suite of dances, as I had blithely assumed. This opening
movement may not be a dance, but whatever it is, it is certainly gorgeous.

The
second movement, which does sound a bit more dance-like, opens energetically
and then soon features some fierce eruptions from the cello. There are some
skittish melodies scurrying up and down in the strings, a yearning motif on the
violin, and a stately, courtly dance figure from the cello. The overall mood is
imaginative and playful, with an abrupt ending. It is this movement that
exposes, alas, a sonic flaw with this recording. The cello is just pushed too
far forward, to the point where it can sound gigantic, dominating the
soundstage when Ms. Segev digs in hard.

The
third movement adopts a slower pace and more somber tone. The melodies are  simpler, with the overall feeling being
rhapsodic in nature. There is some pleasant interplay with the woodwinds before
the movement comes to a peaceful conclusion.

Marin Alsop

The
fourth movement opens with Segev’s cello sounding serious and reflective. As
the music proceeds, her playing grows more frantic. Tympani stokes herald a
shift to a slightly martial undertone. To my imagination  at least, the feeling evoked as this
movement continues is suggestive of someone fighting against fate, trying to
escape from some form of entrapment. For those listeners who might have
reservations about music by contemporary composers, please allow me to point
out that this composition is tonal, overflowing with recognizable melodies and
themes.     

The
fifth and final movement begins with low notes from the cello, perhaps
expressing a sense of agitation. As the movement unfolds, you can sense a hint
of Jewish melody (think Bloch, for example) from time to time as the playing
seems to whipsaw between two modes, frantic and measured. My notes read,
“Portrait of indecision?” The ending of the movement – and the piece as a whole
– is calm and settled. All in all, Clyne, Segev, Alsop, and the LPO have given
us 25 truly enjoyable minutes of music.

But
wait, there’s more! If you call now, AVIE will throw in a performance of the
venerable Cello Concerto by Sir Edward Elgar!

Seriously,
though, although the focus of the release is the Clyne, this disc also includes
a truly fine performance of the Elgar, which was composed 100 years prior to Dance.
I would venture that many music lovers who follow this blog are familiar with
the Elgar and may well have a favorite recording. Or two or three.

I must confess that although I have been a lover of
classical music for 50 years now, and am now 71, it has only been within the
past five years or so that I have finally begun to have much interest in the
music of Elgar; indeed, only within the past two years or so have I been able
to develop an actual love for some of it, the twin peaks of my Elgarian
affection being his Violin Concerto (Hilary Hahn makes my heart
flutter!) and Cello Concerto (Jacqueline du Pré makes me gasp at her
passion and energy!). Although Segev does not play with quite the passion of du
Pré, she does bring passion to her interpretation, clearly communicating a love
for this deeply moving music. Segev plays the Elgar with lyrical precision.

Fortunately,
the forwardness of her cello in the mix is not as obtrusive as it is in the
Clyne. Perhaps the engineers backed off a little for this session, or perhaps
Elgar’s score serves to make the orchestra more assertive in its role. The much
older du Pré/Barbirolli recording is darker in tone, sounding at once a bit
warmer and more natural; however, the modern Segev/Alsop recording sounds more
focused and clear. Both recordings present the Elgar as a sublime combination
of intellect and emotion, and both recordings include wondrous disc-mates (the
AVIE with Clyne’s Dance, the EMI with Elgar’s Sea Pictures sung
by the incomparable Janet Baker).

Despite
my quibbles about the engineering, my enthusiasm for both the music and the
performances leads me to give this new release from AVIE a highly enthusiastic
recommendation. It also leads me to wish ever more fervently for more
recordings of music by the most remarkable Anna Clyne. Bring it on!

KWN

To
listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click below:

 

Two x Four: Jennifer Koh & Jaime Laredo (CD review)

Music by Bach, Clyne, Glass, and Ludwig. Jennifer Koh and Jaime Laredo, violins; Vinay Parameswaran, Curtis 20/21 Ensemble. Cedille Records CDR 90000 146.



Some things new; some things old. The new would be violinist Jennifer Koh and double violin concertos by Anna Clyne and David Ludwig. The old (or, at least, older) would be violinist Jaime Laredo and double concertos by J.S. Bach and Philip Glass. The combination works wonderfully together.



The folks at classical WCLV Cleveland write of the disc: "Three great conservatories (two in Northeast Ohio) are represented on this new disc: Jennifer Koh is an Oberlin alum, Jaime Laredo teaches at the Cleveland Institute of Music and at Philadelphia's Curtis Institute. This project has been in the works since 2010, when Jennifer Koh approached composers Anna Clyne and David Ludwig about creating new concertante works for 2 violins, inspired by one of Ms. Koh's favorite works, the Bach Double Concerto which leads off the program. Anna Clyne responded with Prince of Clouds, written specifically for Jennifer Koh and her mentor at Curtis, Jaime Laredo. David Ludwig's Seasons Lost is an artist's response to the reality of global climate change. The fourth composer in "Two x Four" is Philip Glass whose Echorus was written in 1995 for Yehudi Menuhin."



The solo performers are two consummate artists, so you would expect nothing from them but the very best. So they start out with the best, the inspiration for the other works, the Concerto for Two Violins in D minor, BWV 1043 by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750). The violinists shine in their individual right, of course, but their sympathetic communication in Bach (and, indeed, in all the pieces presented here) is evident in every passage. Their partnership is energetic, felicitous, and expressive, admirably and pleasurably so. I especially enjoyed their nuanced playing of the central Largo, which is most impressive in its emotional concentration and its lyric, dance-like qualities.



Next up is Prince of Clouds for two violins and string orchestra by British-born composer Anna Clyne (b. 1980). It's a relatively short piece here recorded for the first time. As in the Bach, the two violinists share complementary roles, intertwining their contributions with grace and finesse. Ms. Clyne says that she imagined the piece as a "dialogue between soloists and ensemble." Certainly, Ms. Koh and Mr. Laredo maintain that musical dialogue in eloquent fashion and through several highly variable mood changes.



After that is Echorus by American composer Philip Glass (b. 1937). Although Glass would rather that people not call him a minimalist, he remains one of the first composers listeners think of when they hear the word "minimalist." Glass currently prefers that people think of him as a classicist in the mold of Bach, Mozart, and Schubert. Fair enough. Furthermore, Glass says his music often features a "repetitive structure," and we hear that in Echorus, the echoes of each refrain. Koh and Laredo shape and caress the music carefully, sweetly, gingerly, creating a performance that encapsulates all that is good about Cage's work. The gently pulsating rhythms of the variations are hauntingly beautiful and produce a lasting impression for the listener.



The final work on the program is Seasons Lost for two violins and string orchestra by American classical composer David Ludwig (1974). Ludwig descends from a roster of famous musicians, including his uncle, pianist Peter Serkin, his grandfather, pianist Rudolf Serkin, and his great-grandfather, violinist Adolf Busch. Yes, he also knows his business; he was born to it. Ludwig notes that the music represents a time before global warming caused the seasons to run together, a time when Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall, the four movements in his tone poem, had distinct divisional (and tonal) qualities. The piece works as a modern take on Vivaldi's famous music, but does so more sweetly and with a more-subtle shading of colorations. Koh and Laredo do a splendid job pointing up the differing harmonic changes in the piece and emphasizing the composer's poetic musical vision.



Throughout the program the Curtis 20/20 Ensemble play as though a third member of a trio, contributing equally to the proceedings. They are not just a background accompaniment but an integral part of the music, sharing substantially in a most-pleasing outcome.



Producer Judith Sherman, engineer George Blood, and editor Bill Maylone recorded the album for Cedille Records in March 2013 at the Miriam and Robert Gould Rehearsal Hall at the Curtis Institute of Music, Philadelphia, PA. The violins sound well integrated into the complete aural structure rather than being far out in front of the orchestra. Thus, the sonic landscape is quite realistic, just as one might hear from these players live. The solo instruments appear clearly detailed, with a natural sheen on the strings yet without sounding edgy or hard. The orchestral support enjoys a similarly lifelike recording, nicely transparent but never bright or forward. In short, it's excellent sound.



JJP



To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here: