Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Marianne Beate Kielland. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Marianne Beate Kielland. Mostrar todas las entradas
viernes, 28 de agosto de 2020
sábado, 6 de junio de 2020
jueves, 28 de mayo de 2020
viernes, 22 de marzo de 2019
Ståle Kleiberg DO YOU BELIEVE IN HEATHER?
"Some of the most beautifully played and appealing contemporary chamber and piano pieces you're likely to hear", said American Record Guide about the album Mezzotints – Chamber Music by Ståle Kleiberg. And now there is a follow-up: a new string quartet, two trio constellations and the song cycle Do You Believe in Heather?, which has given the album its title.
Ståle Kleiberg is often called a "modern romantic", and for good reason. We encounter a distinctive and highly individual alloy of modern and romantic elements in his music, whether it is characterized by a still, meditative lyricism or an energizing vitality. His String Quartet no. 3 encompasses this entire range of expression. The music speaks of summer. It is imbued with joie de vivre, and was composed with a full command of the genre and with considerable virtuosity.
The flute-viola-harp ensemble is less common, but by no means unknown. Following Debussy's Sonata, several trios have been composed for this ensemble, and Kleiberg's Trio Luna is a fine and most welcome addition. The work's three movements capture the mood of three dissimilar outer and inner landscapes, all of them bathed in moonlight, albeit at different times of day and night.
The Light Smith is also a trio; it is a song cycle for mezzo-soprano, clarinet and piano, and is chamber music on a very high level of inspiration. Both The Light Smith and Do You Believe in Heather? are settings of poetry by the distinguished Norwegian poet Helge Torvund. These poems engage with such archetypal themes as light, quietude, love, death and nature, but they treat these themes as real, everyday experiences, rather than abstract concepts. While the theme of The Light Smith centres on the beginnings, growth and culmination of life, it is autumn and winter we meet in Do You Believe in Heather?
martes, 3 de abril de 2018
Bach Collegium Japan / Masaaki Suzuki MOZART Requiem
Masaaki Suzuki’s recording of Mozart’s
incomplete Requiem is based on a new edition of the score by his son,
the harpsichordist and organist Masato Suzuki. Those familiar with the
regularly performed Süssmayr version will notice a couple of important
changes – though to spot the others they may have to follow a score
carefully.
Mozart’s assistant Franz Süssmayr was given the task of completing
the Requiem following the great composer’s death. But Joseph Eybler – a
musician Mozart apparently admired – had already made some interventions
which Suzuki generally prefers to Süssmayr’s; in other places he has
corrected some of the faulty writing for which Süssmayr has long been
criticised. More noticeably, he adds a fugal Amen chorus to the
Lacrimosa, based on a genuine sketch discovered in Berlin in 1960. He
also follows the first edition of the score (1800) in allotting the
great majority of the trombone part of the Tuba mirum – all but the
first phrase in fact – to the bassoon, though this version is only
included as an appendix.
Such details aside, the performance is notable for its super-clean
orchestral edges and refinement – taken to such an extent that the
result can feel distanced, however perfectly articulated. The soloists –
a perfectly matched quartet – follow this approach to the point of
sounding a little bloodless, not helped by the resonant acoustic, which
creates a hazy impression. The Solemn Vespers are again of a piece, neat
and perfectly efficient, but a little cool nevertheless, even in
Carolyn Sampson’s direct Laudate Dominum. (George Hall)
jueves, 15 de junio de 2017
Anima Eterna / Jos van Immerseel LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN Symphonies - Ouvertures
It's
possible nowadays to get a cycle of the Beethoven symphonies to suit
every musical taste - from the traditional big-band performances on the
modern instruments of leading symphony orchestras, to the strictest of
historically informed accounts from specialist period bands. Jos van
Immerseel's accounts are close to the historically purist extreme of
that spectrum; his Belgian orchestra Anima Eterna is modestly sized.
There's much to admire in the performances too. His tempi are generally
well judged, the playing is full of character and instinctive
expressiveness, even if the pitch inflections in some of the woodwind
solos are an acquired taste, and textures are unfailingly transparent.
Yet there's something a bit too careful about it all, with a lack of
sheer emotional clout in, for instance, the first movement of the
Eroica, the finale of the Seventh Symphony, and through much of the
Ninth. This is hardly Beethoven as a composer breaking free of the
bounds of classicism, but much more someone with their feet still very
much anchored in the 18th century. (Andrew Clements / The Guardian)
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