Giya Kancheli
The present disc features premiere recordings made – as has been
the case with all of Kancheli’s ECM recordings – with the participation
of the composer. “Valse Boston”, written in 1996, bears two dedications,
one to its conductor and pianist Dennis Russell Davies, the other to
the composer’s wife (“with whom I have never danced”). If Kancheli has
made a point of avoiding the dancefloor he has created a piece that
moves uniquely, if not in ¾ time, and makes sometimes devastating use of
the abrupt dynamic contrasts that have become almost a trademark.
Hans-Klaus Jungheinrich in the liner notes:
“The metaphor of ‘dancing’ should be interpreted less as a profound than
as an ironic comment – but it is also an allusion to the vast distance
that separates Kancheli’s music from the apotheosis or demonic fury of
the dance. The Boston Waltz is generally associated with the louche,
slightly faded realm of urbane entertainment; for Kancheli this is at
most a ‘distant echo’ buried beneath the rubble of the ages.” Kancheli
has, however, said that he was inspired, in writing this piece, by the
visual image of Davies conducting this piece from the piano stool, half
standing, gesturing with a free arm or nods of the head while playing;
this was also a dance of sorts. Jungheinrich: “Three-quarter time is
never used as the vehicle, elixir and essence of dance-like energy. What
does occur at the beginning is a slow triplet movement; but instead of
introducing spirited movement, the consistently gentle sonorities retain
a heavy, clinging, glutinous quality. The first violins seem to want to
counter the persistent, grinding slowness of the tempo with their own
abandoned song, a mercurial line in the highest register.”
Davies and the Stuttgart Chamber Orchestra have included “Valse Boston”
in their touring programmes on both sides of the Atlantic. The Chicago
Tribune wrote, “Don't let the innocuous title fool you: Giya Kancheli's
‘Valse Boston’ is a powder keg of a piece. It is a secular prayer
veering between extremes of dynamics, tempo and mood. One moment the
piano is goading the strings to produce angry, stabbing dissonances. The
next moment, it is quieting the orchestra with tiny fragments of
waltz-time, deceptively merry. Nobody conjures troubled landscapes in
sound like Kancheli. He has given us a bleak, very Eastern view of
modern existence, but the effect is cleansing.”
“Diplipito, written in 1997, is named for the little, high-tuned
Georgian drums – in the range of the darbouka or the bongos – that are
frequently used to accompany dancing. And the percussive syllables that
Kancheli gives to American countertenor Derek Lee Ragin are a kind of
concrete poetry inspired by the drum’s rhythm patterns. Giya Kancheli
was greatly impressed by Ragin in 1999 when he sang the world première
of the composer’s “And farewell goes out sighing”, alongside Gidon
Kremer with the New York Philharmonic Orchestra under Kurt Masur and the
countertenor was an essential choice for the recording of “Diplipito”,
where he is partnered with Thomas Demenga. Ragin makes his New Series
debut here while Demenga has been a mainstay of the label since its
inauguration.
Jungheinrich: “The vocal part in ‘Diplipito’ finds an equal partner in
the solo cello. The orchestra rarely play tutti, there are no winds or
brass at all, and the guitar, piano and percussion come in individually,
functioning alternately as solo and secondary presences. The terse,
tentative figures in the cello contrast with the cluster-like chords
typifying the piano line. For long stretches, the sonic space is
chromatically measured – often in small, careful interval steps…. The
mood of tranquillity, even latent immobility, that dominates the first
half of the piece is suspended by the entry of a vigorous ornamental
figure on the guitar (which is immediately picked up by the cello),
followed by several explosive fortissimo passages. The soft murmur of a
bongo rhythm increases the restlessness. This is the preparation for the
final phase, the disembodiment of sonic materiality.” (ECM Records)
I bought this record some weeks ago, so it's comes a surprise to me that diplipito is the name of a musical instrument. It's strange that the brainy liner notes by Jungheinrich fail to mention it. I guess I should have searched for it's meaning instead of thinking it refers to the Brodsky quoting.
ResponderEliminarAs for the music, I prefer the Valse Boston, but the conjuction of cello and voice in Diplipito is very nice as well.
great blog, great music - thanks for sharing this treasure
ResponderEliminar