(+++) GENTLY, GENTLY

Schubert: Arpeggione Sonata; Lied der Mignon III; Nachtstück, D. 672; Piano Trio No. 2—Andante con moto. Anja Linder, harp; Julie Sévilla-Fraysse, cello; Laurent Korcia, violin. Naïve. $16.99.

Tessa Brinckman: Taniwha; A Cracticus Fancie; Todd Barton and Tessa Brinckman: Sonus Redux—And the Wave Rolled Back; Andile Khumalo and Tessa Brinckman: Wade Through Water; Cara Stacey and Tessa Brinckman: You Never Come Out the Same; Norio Fukushi: Dawn Brightens the Day of Mortals Robed in Purple; Andile Khumalo: Zeuze; Shirish Korde: Tenderness of Cranes. Tessa Brinckman, flutes and prepared piano; Caroline Delume, guitar; Kathleen Supové, piano and prepared piano; Todd Barton, Buchla; Horomona Horo, taonga pūoro. New Focus Recordings. $16.99.

     Some musical instruments naturally lend themselves to sounds of delicacy, even evanescence, and the harp is certainly one of them. That makes harp arrangements of works originally written for other instruments inherently interesting, since even the most accurate transcription changes the overall impression of a piece originally created to be played on something other than the harp. This all gets even more intriguing when it comes to harpist Anja Linder’s adaptation of Schubert’s Arpeggione Sonata, since that work is almost always heard in some sort of adaptation – given that the arpeggione (a six-stringed bowed instrument the size of a cello, fretted and tuned like a guitar) was only popular for about a decade in the early 19^th century and is very rarely used for this sonata nowadays (which is actually a shame, but that’s another story). Few modern ears know what this Schubert sonata was supposed to sound like, so Linder’s harp version is as worthy in its way as are the more-usual ones for stringed instruments (generally viola or cello). In fact, Linder’s design is fascinating: she performs on the harp and is partnered (that is, not just “accompanied”) by Julie Sévilla-Fraysse on cello. There is an almost otherworldly beauty to the sonata in this guise: its expansive first movement is filled with wavelets of sound, its brief second one is quietly expressive, and its finale is almost achingly lovely. This Naïve recording is focused mostly on Linder (as both performer and arranger), but in the Arpeggione Sonata, the inescapable intertwining of voices produces a sound that mounts quickly to the heights of beauty and remains there throughout. The other works on the CD function more as “framing tales” or encores. Linder and violinist Laurent Korcia are suitably emotive in Lied der Mignon III (So lasst mich scheinen) and the quiet, almost hesitant Nachtstück, D. 672, whose emotionalism is actually somewhat overdone here. The very short CD – only 42 minutes – concludes with the second movement from Schubert’s Piano Trio No. 2, in which the harp’s plucking is a bit too much at variance with the original for the arrangement to be wholly successful. Given the brief duration of the disc and the reality that only one work on it is wholly successful as arranged for performance here, the CD will be of only limited appeal – but that appeal will be very strong indeed to listeners who are already fascinated by the Arpeggione Sonata in all its manifestations, and would like to hear it in yet another guise (and a very worthy one at that).

     Just as Linder is the primary focus on her CD, so Tessa Brinckman is the main reason-for-being of hers for New Focus Recordings. But although listeners may expect the natural delicacy of the flute to be in the forefront here, that is not the case. Indeed, this is a disc that will be of far greater interest to those who know or have a strong wish to discover Brinckman’s compositions and performances than to anyone else. In addition to playing multiple flutes (including alto, bass, contrabass, and piccolo) and prepared piano, Brinckman is either composer or co-creator of most of the music on the disc. Taniwha (2023), despite using piccolo and several different flutes, is a mostly percussive work that makes considerable use of Māori musical instruments. A Cracticus Fancie (2017) is for solo piccolo (live and processed) and combines poetry with, again, percussive elements, all within a rather complex narrative whose bounds are not clear from the music itself but need to be studied by listeners who want to get the full intended effect of the material. Those two works are by Brinckman herself; she is also co-creator of three others on the disc. Sonus Redux (2020, with Todd Barton) is sonically interesting in its mixing of Baroque flutes with prepared piano and Buchla synthesizer. Wade Through Water (2023, with Andile Khumalo) effectively contrasts the alto flute with piano exclamations and, at a length of just three minutes, makes its points without belaboring them. You Never Come Out the Same (2023, with Cara Stacey) is much more about percussion (played by both Brinckman and Kathleen Supové) than it is focused on Brinckman’s piccolo, which mostly produces punctuation points. Also on the CD are three works for which Brinckman is performer but not composer/creator. Norio Fukushi’s Dawn Brightens the Day of Mortals Robed in Purple (1992) is the longest piece on the disc (more than 12 minutes). Written for flute and guitar, it includes some sections in which the instruments build on each other’s differing sounds and means of sound production, and others in which they are strongly contrasted. Khumalo’s Zeuze (2014) is the shortest piece offered here (less than two-and-a-half minutes) and one of the few allowing the flute expressiveness in accord with its more-typical sound – giving the piano the contrasting percussive material. And Shirish Korde’s Tenderness of Cranes (1990) is not only the oldest work presented on the disc but also one of the most challenging: an 11-minute work for solo flute that gives Brinckman plenty of opportunities to showcase the many techniques with which the instrument can be played and the many sounds it can produce. Unfortunately, the piece is not particularly compelling in its own right – it is something of an esoteric offering that Brinckman’s fellow flautists will find more interesting than will people who play other instruments or none at all. Still, if this CD reaches out only to a limited audience by virtue of the music itself and the performances, it is more than satisfactory in displaying both the compositions and the interpretations for those with a strong interest in contemporary flute music – and even more so for those fascinated by Brinckman’s personal thoughtfulness and creativity.