An environmentalist by inclination and an avant-gardist by training (going back to Fluxus), Lockwood first composed "Jitterbug" as a mostly tape-based, nature-sound piece. Here, John King, William Winant and David Behrman bring Lockwood's work to life with scraping violas, guitars and percussion. Even better is the title track, a composition for cello and Thomas Buckner's voice that sets poems written by three Guantanamo detainees. It's stark, but noble. And if "Thirst" is a minor oral-history piece that doesn't quite connect, New World is to be cheered for broadening the Lockwood discography.
Not the most original bit of programming here, but this is still a pleasurable album of chestnuts by two Russian masters. Mussorgsky's tone poem "Night on Bald Mountain" is familiar, but the attack of the Philharmonic's brass section keeps things from ever seeming too comfortable. The Rimsky-Korsakov suite has some mystery to it as well, beginning with the violin-plus-harp leitmotif that introduces its title character. The Philharmonic handles this Romantic repertory quite well, as ever, though this lacks the spark that sometimes attends its investigations of lesser-known repertoire.
Who doesn't like to cleanse the palate with a little Vivaldi now and again? But before you turn for the hundredth time to the Four Seasons, give some of these bassoon concertos a try. If a bassoon concerto sounds like a weird idea to you (it's not much of a genre), try on RV502 in B flat major and RV494 in G major. Containing blasts of stately authority as well as moments of melancholic reflection, they both hint at why Sergio Azzolini (as soloist) and the ensemble Aurora Soave have made recording this complete cycle a priority.
The first mature work by the other John Adams (middle name: Luther), this piece finally received a top-flight recording courtesy of Callithumpian Consort, in 2012. The scoring -- for flautists (doubling on piccolo and ocarina) plus celesta and percussion battery -- will be familiar to JLA admirers: The openness and mystery of the natural world is conjured by both cell-fragments of melody (a la birdcalls), as well as by the way instrumental rhythms are layered. As in nature, this piece offers bursts of extremity ("Joyful Noise") and then a return back to calm ("Evensong"). An important album.
Violinists often turn to the Bach partitas when making a solo CD, and Koh doesn't buck the trend. Where she distinguishes herself is in the playing -- particularly in No. 3, which closes this album (check the "Ciaccona"). The inclusion of a Saariaho piece fulfills the "beyond Bach" rubric, and it's well done. Even better is "Dissolve, O My Heart," by Missy Mazzoli, in which the gravity is cut with the occasional spirited figure. It's enough to make you forgive the snoozer choice of Ysaÿe's sonatas, which are well played, but aren't of much compositional interest outside their Bach connection.
Complete, as in "two." But it's fine that famed British modernist Harrison Birtwistle waited until his 60s to start writing these. "The Tree of Strings," finished in 2007, is first up, and earns its half-hour running time. Though undeniably complex in nature, the single-movement piece makes its transitions from whisper-quiet harmonics to jaunty atonal jabbings with considerable elegance. "Movements for String Quartet," an earlier piece, is a more casual collection -- more like a sketchbook than "Tree of Strings." Don't say old modernists can't learn new tricks.
This four-CD set is drawn from the festival-within-a-festival devoted to the pianist each year at Lugano since 2002. There's much to enjoy: Poulenc's two-piano concerto is a fresh item in Argerich's repertoire, and sounds it. The last work -- Milhaud's "Scaramouche" for four hands -- might make you hope for the pianist to push ahead with that composer's oeuvre. The Beethoven is OK, while Stravinsky's "Les Noces" is a bit off (and the Bartok a touch underpowered). But in Prokofiev's first and third concertos -- rather familiar pieces to this pianist -- Argerich is fire.
Even by computer music standards, this is pretty plinky material. So why is it worth hearing? For one thing, Bischoff really does compose with his silences (see the title track); even when spare, the music doesn't feel random. And his feel for textures in between the digital chirps -- try out the noise freakouts of "Sidewalk Chatter" or the drones-plus-chimes of "Local Color" -- is evocative and winning. To be sure, this is mostly a quiet album, though it does build (in its way) to the percussive climax of "Surface Effect." Overall, this is new-classical headphone listening at its best.
Hindemith liked fun, and this ensemble -- named after the composer's own -- is eager to show they get all the jokes. The opening and finale movements of the String Quartet No. 2 (the first piece here) have all the experimental jauntiness that Hindemith was cheerfully grafting on to the tonal tradition. The other piece -- the composer's third string quartet -- is a more serious item (especially in the middle movement), but the players deck it out with delight where appropriate. This first volume of a complete Hindemith string quartet cycle is a welcome announcement.
If a bit tender at its open, this performance can hang with storied recordings of Stravinsky's riot-starting ballet. While it's easy for conductors (or reviewers) to focus on the meter switch-ups at the expense of the overall sweep, Alan Gilbert has command of the details and the grand design. Loud as he lets his players blare by the midway point -- go to the 11-minute mark of the first track to hear a huge brass chord in "Spring Rounds" go through a torturously beautiful metamorphosis -- you wouldn't expect much dynamic power to be left in the tank by the finale. But then it rips some more.
One of Adams' first orchestral triumphs, "Harmonielehre," has become one of those pieces that conductors use to prove their modernist prowess. Here comes Michael Tilson Thomas with his San Francisco players, and hell if they don't blast away other (fine) versions of the minimalist-goes-lyrical masterwork. The opening may not be as commanding as in David Robertson's live recording with the St. Louis Symphony, but Thomas keeps up the momentum better throughout. The miniature "Short Ride" is a fitting dessert, but almost anti-climactic after the exquisitely turned main course.
Finnissy moves in New Complexity circles, and the opening seconds of his "Second String Quartet" (with its rocketing lines and stark textures) will tell you why. But there's a compactness in what follows that the composer credits to Haydn, despite the fact that no formal score exists (it's a bunch of "parts" meant to "drift"). Credit the Kreutzer Quartet, which makes this music sound controlled. The Third Quartet is a bigger beast, but is worth taking the time to confront. More lyrical (in places) than the Second, it's a statement even before you get to the birdcall field-recording finale.
To celebrate the Rite's centenary, Decca re-released all 38 of its recordings in this 20-CD set. Go to the Decca website for a full breakdown of which version is which, but do not miss Antal Dorati's blistering, oft out-of-print 1959 reading with the Minneapolis Symphony (the eighth performance here). Many of the other takes are findable elsewhere, but Michael Tilson Thomas' early effort with the Boston Philharmonic (12th performance) isn't heard enough. And then there's Dorati (him again!) revisiting the ballet with the Detroit Symphony (22nd performance). Good to have these back again.
The jazz-meets-classical cabaret scene of Paris in the 1920s has always been attractive. Think about it: You've got artist Jean Cocteau kicking up his heels in one corner while Darius Milhaud plays the piano in the other. Here, pianist Alexandre Tharaud brings this era back to life with this hot little high-concept album. Show tunes of the day -- like Gershwin's "The Man I Love" -- get crisp and playful readings. Tharaud taps capable vocalists to help out on some cuts, but they're not as clutch. Skip to the pianist's take on Ravel's "Five o'clock" foxtrot and Milhaud's "Tango des Fratellini."
Beethoven and Haydn represent the "first" Viennese school on this disc, while Berg and Schoenberg ride for the locale's famously atonal "second" school. Another through-line is that all these songs should appeal to the lovelorn. Though mezzos and sopranos often sing these pieces, Gerhaher makes them sound like they belong in his baritone. The opening Beethoven is a master class of control and shading. And the 15-song Schoenberg set "The Book of Hanging Gardens" is equally touching; it's hard to remember that it's supposed to be difficult music. Fine piano accompaniment from Gerold Huber, too.
