Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta François-Xavier Roth. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta François-Xavier Roth. Mostrar todas las entradas
domingo, 25 de octubre de 2020
miércoles, 23 de septiembre de 2020
sábado, 25 de mayo de 2019
Les Siècles / François-Xavier Roth GUSTAV MAHLER Titan
Gustav Mahler was not yet thirty years old when he mounted the podium
to conduct his ‘Symphonic Poem’ (Sinfonische Dichtung) in the Large
Hall of the Redoute (Vigadó) in Budapest on 20 November 1889. The young
man, who had recently been appointed director of the Hungarian capital’s
opera house, was presenting an orchestral composition for the first
time that evening. This work, which Mahler thought would be ‘child’s
play’, was in fact - as he was to admit years later - “one of [his]
boldest.” It is the crystallisation of his childhood, marked by the
successive deaths of his brothers and sisters but also by the brutality
of his father. The work also embodies the dreams that this rebellious
young student at the Vienna Conservatory had already forged some ten
years earlier, with the new generation of artists and thinkers of which
he was a member.
In this album, François-Xavier Roth and Les Siècles have chosen to
present Mahler’s First Symphony in its second version, that of
Hamburg/Weimar (1893-94) - a unique opportunity to hear the symphonic
poem Titan. By allowing us to follow the genesis of this first large
scale work, Titan opens the doors of Mahler’s artistic workshop at a
crucial moment in the creative process: the transition from the youthful
effort of 1889 to the Symphony in D major of 1896, which established
Mahler as one of the foremost symphonists of the modern era.
sábado, 24 de marzo de 2018
Renaud Capuçon / London Symphony Orchestra / François-Xavier Roth BARTÓK Violin Concertos Nos. 1 & 2
Whenever I listen to performances by the French violinist Renaud
Capuçon, I'm unfailingly won over by both his beautifully sweet tone and
his impressive virtuosity, and so it has been an absolute pleasure to
get to know his new recording of the two violin concertos by Béla
Bartók, accompanied by the London Symphony Orchestra under
François-Xavier Roth.
Although neither published nor performed until more than a decade after
his death, Bartók's first concerto was actually written while he was in
his twenties, and stylistically speaking is quite different from the
much later second concerto. It begins with just a single line for the
soloist alone, gradually joined by more and more members of the
orchestral strings, and then eventually the woodwind enter with the same
melodic phrase that began the concerto. It's a magical opening, and the
interplay between Capuçon's melancholic sound and the counterpoint of
the LSO string section is a marvellous thing to behold.
Shaping every single phrase to perfection is conductor
François-Xavier Roth, whose care over even the smallest facets of
Bartók's dynamic markings is really remarkable: there's a moment in the
first concerto where the solo violin and the orchestral first violins
play the sameforte throughout whilst the orchestra are instructed to begin pp with a crescendo.
You can actually hear the shift in balance as the first violins catch
up in volume with the soloist, until Capuçon is finally absorbed into
the orchestral sound. It's the tiniest of details, but it makes such a
difference.
line, but the soloist is marked
There are all sorts of examples of this in the second concerto too,
where Bartók frequently makes extensive use of layered dynamics. This is
most prevalent in his woodwind writing, where for instance a piano clarinet solo might receive an interjection from a pianissimo flute, with horns playing ppp
underneath! It’s a credit to Roth that he pays such meticulous
attention to these markings, and also a testament to both the LSO and
the excellent recording quality that such minute gradations are actually
audible!
The second concerto is also full of intriguingly unusual timbres and
performance techniques, such as asking the cymbals at one point to be
played on the edge with the blade of a penknife, or requesting that a
particular triangle roll be performed with a thin wooden stick rather
than the usual metal beater. All of these moments are brought out
wonderfully by the orchestra. Similarly, there's always an especial
satisfaction to be had on hearing the hearty thwack of the Bartók pizzicato
(where the string is plucked so hard that it snaps back and hits the
wood of the instrument, so-named after his use of it in various pieces).
One of my favourite passages in the second concerto is near the end
of the first movement, where eerie phrases for murky bass clarinet and
bassoons, accompanying the solo violinist playing with quarter tones,
lead into an outstandingly splendid cadenza from Capuçon, with double
stops aplenty. Elsewhere there is real tenderness, particularly the
start of the second movement, an affectingly poignant melody for solo
violin with harp, timpani, and strings, which is sublime.
I must admit when I first put it on, I wasn't expecting to be quite
so knocked out by the quality of the performances, but for me this is a
stunner of a disc. With commanding musicianship from Capuçon, extremely
intelligent and attentive conducting from Roth, and the LSO on the very
best of their always magnificent form, this is undoubtedly one of my top
discs of the year so far! (James Longstaffe)
miércoles, 20 de diciembre de 2017
Sabine Devieilhe MIRAGES
This album came about through my desire to record Lakmé, a role that has been very dear to my heart since I first performed it on stage in 2012. It’s a part of which I know and love every single bar.
For the character of Lakmé, Léo Delibes composed some of the most beautiful music ever written for coloratura soprano. His artistic approach was essentially a French one in that he always made the voice the centre of attention, with an orchestration that is at times diaphanous (when the heroine recites a prayer) and at times dazzling (in the great love duets). It was this work that sparked my love for French nineteenth-century opera. But Lakmé also came about within the context of European artists becoming more open to influences from distant lands. Western ears were at that time keen to be taken on musical and poetic journeys, and people were increasingly receptive to perfumes from afar.
This collection explores the dream of the East cultivated by Delibes and later by Maurice Delage, who actually went on an extended visit to India and brought back with him the modal colours of Indian music. It also touches on Japan and China, as seen through the prism of Messager’s Madame Chrysanthème and Stravinsky’s Rossignol, and Egypt, with the incantation sung by La Charmeuse
in Thaïs. The element of fantasy also takes on a more folk-like and popular dimension, with settings by Ambroise Thomas and Berlioz of Ophelia’s strange song. With his music for Mélisande and Ariel, both of whom use their voices to sing and to charm, Debussy uses the exoticism of the modal scale to disconcert the listener and evoke an unspecified faraway place.
So, ‘far from the real world’, as Lakmé says before her ‘Liebestod’, like the fantasy image of a distant country – let us indulge an innocent pleasure, and dream...
(Sabine Devieilhe, 2017)
jueves, 17 de agosto de 2017
Ensemble Intercontemporain / François-Xavier Roth ALBERTO POSADAS Oscuro abismo de llanto y de ternura - Nebmaat - Cripsis - Glossopoeia
Patience, exactitude and determination: Alberto Posadas is aptly characterised by these three human virtues, thanks to which he has succeeded—without haste, but also without pause—in claiming for him- self a prominent place in the European music scene. His industriousness and honest dedication have given rise to a catalogue of works which, though not excep- tionally extensive, know neither breaks nor setbacks. His strict and extremely precise way of constructing time and form in a highly complex manner, without ever neglecting to preserve a certain degree of free- dom for his unequivocally craftsman-like intuition, has made him one of the most exciting composers of his generation in Spain.
Due to the style in which he combines and joins his sonic material, Posadas’ compatriots often refer to his music as “Francophile”. Beyond the Pyrenees and above all in Francophone countries, where many doors of opportunity were opened to him (including by Festival d’Automne in Paris, Agora Festival (IRCAM), Strasbourg’s MUSICA and Brussels’ Ars Musica), the opposite is true: there, he is viewed as a genuinely Spanish composer due to the power and aplomb that emanate from even his more transparent masses of sound. His sober and deep-reaching formal architec- ture could easily lead us to join this chorus, content with concentrating only on his “Spanishness”. But to those who look beyond such regionalist stereotypes,
his œuvre reveals trace elements which are entirely reminiscent of his mentor Francisco Guerrero—in the sense of a Spanish tradition derived from Edgar Varèse’s attitude toward art and science and/or from Iannis Xenakis’ postulates. One can also make out a certain subliminal affinity with Giacinto Scelsi when he orchestrates his parametric crystallizations in tem- poral stasis, as well as a certain handling of timbre that seems somehow akin to French Spectralism. (José L. Besada)
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