Victoria Bond: Soul of a Nation—Concerto Portraits
of Presidential Character. Frank Almond, violin; John Bruce Yeh, clarinet; Mark Ridenour, trumpet;
Gabriela Vargas, flute; Roosevelt University Chamber Orchestra conducted by
Emanuele Andrizzi; Chicago College of Performing Arts Wind Ensemble conducted
by Stephen Squires. Albany Records. $16.99.
New Standards: Music for Bassoon and Piano. Ann Shoemaker, bassoon;
Kae Hosoda-Ayer, piano. MSR Classics. $12.95.
New Works for Viols, Voice, and Electronics. Kristin Norderval,
soprano; Dashon Burton, bass-baritone; Valeria Vasilevski, narrator; Parthenia
(Beverly Au and Lisa Terry, bass viols;
Lawrence Lipnik, tenor viol; Rosamund Morley, treble viol). MSR Classics.
$12.95.
Many contemporary composers, and
contemporary performers who focus on works of today and the recent past, seem
always to be searching for new ways to use music, ways to make connections
sometimes with listeners, sometimes with fellow performers, and sometimes with
society at large so as to make social or political points. And at least some
composers working today draw directly on music of the past as a model, or a
lens through which to see what they want listeners to observe. The four
presidential-focused concertos by Victoria Bond (born 1945) on a new Albany
Records CD quite clearly have Copland’s Lincoln
Portrait as a model – Bond herself says so – but they also, and rather more
interestingly, adapt Charles Ives’ approach of including familiar, even
homespun music within the newly composed material. In Bond’s works, for
example, this results in providing aural touchstones for a musical study of
Theodore Roosevelt by including, among other tunes, “Take Me Out to the
Ballgame.” These four concertos are in fact studies rather than tributes, along
the lines of Ives’ portraits of transcendentalists: all four Bond pieces
include words by Myles Lee that take a rather too-modern perspective on the
presidents and tend to judge them by inappropriately contemporary standards.
Like Lincoln’s own words in Copland’s work about Lincoln, Lee’s writings about
these four presidents are intended as scene-setters, but they also come across
interpretatively in ways that are rather grating and add little, if anything,
to Bond’s music. The music itself is intelligently and often cleverly
constructed. The sequence on the CD is a personal rather than chronological
one. The violin-and-strings concerto, Soul
of a Nation, is in some ways the most interesting piece: it focuses on
Thomas Jefferson, the nation’s only polymath president, and incorporates music
by Corelli that Jefferson kept in his library at Monticello. Henry Fogel is the
narrator here, with violinist Frank Almond and the Roosevelt University Chamber
Orchestra conducted by Emanuele Andrizzi. The music of this piece is heartfelt
and often soulful, exploring greater depths than Bond probes in the other
concertos. The Jefferson work is followed by The Indispensable Man, the title referring not to Lincoln but to
Franklin D. Roosevelt, the one president here whom Lee appears to admire
unreservedly. David Holloway narrates and John Bruce Yeh is the clarinetist in
a work whose jazzy riffs and bouncy percussion meld, sometimes a touch
uneasily, with Big Band sounds. The ensemble parts here and in the remaining
concertos are very well played by the Chicago College of Performing Arts Wind
Ensemble conducted by Stephen Squires. The third concerto, The Crowded Hours, focuses on Theodore Roosevelt and features Ray
Frewen as narrator and Mark Ridenour on trumpet. Percussion plays a significant
role in this rather martial work, interspersed with popular tunes of
Roosevelt’s time. Last on the CD is Pater
Patriae, narrated by Adrian Dunn, featuring Gabriela Vargas on flute, and
focusing on George Washington. Here the music, which includes 18th-century
fife-and-drum tunes, is jauntier and generally more unsophisticated in sound
than that of the other concertos, presumably to make Washington come across as
a man of strength and moral clarity but also making him seem rather
superficial. Of course, every generation has different heroic figures, and
every musical generation delineates
its subjects differently: Ives was as much a man of his time, in this sense, as
Bond is a woman of hers. If there is something rather too studied in some of
Bond’s music (and much of Lee’s verbiage), it does not detract from the very
fine construction of all these works and the genuinely interesting material
that appears in all of them, from time to time if not from start to finish.
Bond reaches out to a broad American
audience with her presidential concertos. Ann Shoemaker seems more interested
in reaching out to other performers – bassoonists who, like Shoemaker herself,
would like to find some additional works to play. The result is an MSR Classics
release that is a musical hodgepodge, containing material written as long ago
as 1899 and as recently as 2007, most of it falling into the salon-music
category through pleasant construction, some mildly memorable tunes, and very
little that is aurally challenging. Performance
challenges, however, abound, and Shoemaker surmounts all of them to excellent
effect: this is really a CD for bassoonists and for listeners interested in
seeing just how much the instrument (whose range is considerably wider than
most people realize) can do both expressively and virtuosically. The oldest
work here, 3 Pièces pour basson et piano
by Charles Koechlin (1867-1950), is one of the most engaging, giving the
bassoon plenty of chances to sing warmly and sweetly, setting a quiet and
contemplative mood to fine effect. The Koechlin work contrasts very pleasantly
with the three more-outgoing ones that follow it on the disc and focus on the
bassoon’s more-playful side. These are Etude
No. 5: Variations on “Streets of Laredo” for solo bassoon (1982) by John
Steinmetz (born 1951); Brightening for
bassoon and piano (2007) by Marcus Karl Maroney (born 1976); and Scherzo in G minor for bassoon and piano
(1948) by Oleg Miroshnikov (born 1925). In the Maroney and Miroshnikov works,
and the others here that use piano, Kae
Hosoda-Ayer does a fine job of backing Shoemaker up while allowing her to stay
firmly in the limelight; the recording adds to this effect by placing the
bassoon prominently front-and-center. Other works here have a distinctly French
flavor (whether or not written by French composers) and a fair amount of élan: Neuf Pièces Breves
pour basson et piano (1965) by Pierre
Max Dubois (1930-1995); Variations
Concertantes pour basson et piano (1970) by Ida Gotkovsky (born 1933); and Suite pour basson et piano (1957) by
Alexandre Tansman (1897-1986). Dubois’ work most thoroughly explores the bassoon’s
many moods, from an opening Pomposo
to a Pastorale to an Adagio that contrasts nicely with the
succeeding Giocoso. Also nicely
contrasted on the CD are the two parts of Sicilienne
et Allegro Giocoso pour basson et piano (1930) by Gabriel Grovlez
(1879-1944), followed on the disc by the more monochromatic Black Anemones by Joseph Schwantner
(born 1943) – a work written for voice and piano in 1980, transcribed for flute
and piano in 1991, and here showing the bassoon’s ability to replicate both
vocal elements and the characteristics of a higher woodwind. The fact that none
of the composers heard here is particularly well-known (only Koechlin and
perhaps Tansman will be familiar names to most listeners) shows how far-ranging
Shoemaker had to be in her search for new and/or neglected bassoon repertoire.
It would be nice to report that she found some genuine gems, but in fact the
works here are more of the semi-precious variety: bassoonists may well want to
incorporate some of them into recitals, but the CD is unlikely to repay
everyday listeners through multiple hearings – the material, while generally
quite pleasant, offers little to bring an audience back repeatedly except for
the high quality of Shoemaker’s playing.
The sheer sound of another MSR Classics release is also its main attraction. This is a CD of
world première recordings of contemporary works for Renaissance
viol consort – quite a concept! – plus an electronically enhanced version of
the 850-plus-year-old chant Alleluia, O
Virga Mediatrix by Hildegard von Bingen. This piece opens the CD and sets
up its female orientation: all the works are by women composers, a fact far
less relevant than the pieces’ thematic focus on storytelling. What the viol
ensemble Parthenia does to and with the gorgeous von Bingen chant will be very
much a matter of taste; but then, so will all the works here, even though the
chance to hear a Renaissance viol consort in pretty much any repertoire is a
highly welcome one. Nevertheless, listeners should know that none of the
composers here pays any particular attention, much less tribute, to historical
works for viol consort: this is decidedly modern music that uses the viols
(and, yes, electronics) in strictly contemporary ways. Nevertheless,
sensitivity to the intimate sound of viols is evident in some of the music. In
particular, From a Fairy Tale (2013)
by Frances White, from a story by James Pritchett, explores and exploits the
otherworldly aspects of the viols’ sound to fine and suitable effect. Thorns for viol quartet and bass-baritone
(2013), by Tawnie Olson, is also unaffected and direct, with a finely honed
performance by Dashon Burton adding to the effect of a piece that does not
overstay its welcome. The other two works on the CD are somewhat thornier than Thorns, and they are the longest pieces
on the disc. White’s A Flower on the
Farther Side (2010), for viol quartet and electronic sound, seems rather
self-conscious in its integration (or dis-integration) of the centuries-old
instruments with the usual parade of electronics. And the longest piece here,
the four-movement Nothing Proved Can Be
(2008) by Kristin Norderval, for viol quartet, soprano, and interactive audio
processing, is the most curious – intellectually fascinating but emotionally
rather vapid. The issue here has to do with content as well as sound: the words
are those of Queen Elizabeth I, the topic no less than her rise to and
retention of power and the sacrifices and ruthlessness required of her. The use
of instruments of Elizabeth’s era to set her own words gives the work a kind of
time-capsule quality and a sense of solidity, but the actual music and the
audio processing used to enhance (or at least alter) it create a disconnect
between what is being said and explored, on the one hand, and the way things are being said and explored,
on the other. The result is a work of undeniable complexity whose intricacy of
thought and design is clear but whose impact is less visceral that Norderval
surely intends it to be. The members of Parthenia play this and all the other
pieces here – all written and premièred by the
ensemble – with commitment and, when called for, considerable beauty. The
verbal participants – Burton, Valeria Vasilevski and composer Norderval as a
soprano – evince a strong sense of commitment to the material and a high level
of comfort with these works’ style. The CD is a fascinating foray into nowadays
little-heard sonorities that are reinterpreted in a strictly up-to-date context
– a disc for a rarefied audience that will find the material sometimes
charming, sometimes thought-provoking, and sometimes, however improbably, both
at once.
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