July 03, 2024

(+++) BOUNCING ABOUT

I Got This! By Julia Cook and Michele Borba, Ed.D. Illustrated by Dale Crawford. National Center for Youth Issues. $15.95.

     A teaching tool that is a touch too pedantic, despite being cast as an entertaining and charming story, I Got This! is supposed to be all about resilience and persistence – taking children through six “superpowers” to use when “life is full of challenges” that they need to overcome. So far, so good.

     As the framing story for the lessons, Julia Cook and Michele Borba create a Rescue Dog challenge requiring would-be Rescue Dog Charlie, accompanied by friendly squirrel Hazel and drawn with utter adorableness by Dale Crawford, to pull a sled to the top of a mountain. As a guide to the inevitable problems that Charlie and Hazel will encounter and need to overcome, a helpful eagle accompanies the pair, talks them through difficulties, and provides eagle feathers labeled with words describing each of the six “superpowers,” or rather “Bounce Back Superpowers,” as the authors style them. So far, so good – again.

     It is not in the elements but in their assemblage that matters become a bit overly earnest and the story creaks beneath the weight of the heavy importance the authors attach to every page. The teacher eagle – who, oddly, is never named – does not even offer Charlie the encouragement the pup asks for as he begins his climb, saying, “What I think isn’t important, Charlie. It’s what you believe about yourself that matters.” But how would it hurt or make Charlie less resilient for the eagle to say something along the lines of, “I have faith in you”?

     The eagle does promise to teach Charlie the Bounce Back Superpowers, and obligingly brings out two feathers with the words “breathe” and “brainstorm” for the first one, needed when Charlie and Hazel cannot get the sled between two trees. The lesson here is to breathe in a specific way “to clear your head,” give yourself positive reinforcement, then “flood your brain with lots of ideas.” Then, as the climb continues and the slope gets steeper, Charlie fears that “we can’t do this,” and the eagle obligingly takes away the “t” in “can’t” (the word is shown in huge letters in the snow) and tells Charlie to tell himself, “I GOT THIS!”

     And so the trek upward continues – with, again, some odd behavior by the eagle. A fallen tree completely blocks the path at one point, and the eagle says, “Don’t be afraid to ask for help,” but does not actually offer any help until Charlie specifically requests that the eagle do a flyover to find a way around the obstacle. How would it hurt if the eagle offered assistance, thus showing Charlie that people will help when you need it? The eagle even says, when the pup makes his request, “Sure, Charlie. I thought you’d never ask.” So the lesson is that help is available, but people who can assist you won’t do so unless you specifically request it? Perhaps that is not the intended lesson, but that is how it comes across here.

     Eventually, the exhausted dog and squirrel are ready to give up from sheer tiredness, so the eagle offers a “recharge” feather and the two take a nap – after which they finish their climb. So of course everything ends well, and Charlie even completes his first Rescue Dog mission on the way down the mountain, helping a baby bird back into the nest out of which it has fallen. A final page, for teachers and/or parents, condenses all the book’s lessons into an adult-focused narrative, explaining how to implement the authors’ recommendations in the real world. The entire book is very well-meaning and very clearly focused on teaching life skills, despite being couched in the form of a cute-animal adventure. Some of the emphasis does misfire a bit, though, as Cook and Borba double down on their insistence that children figure things out on their own, ask for assistance without expecting anyone to offer it unasked, and engage in specific activities in specific ways – such as a designated form of breath control and a nap. The underlying lessons taught here are valuable ones, but the teaching method is a bit too insistent – at times almost verging on hectoring – to encourage ready adoption of the techniques.

(++++) SOUNDS OF THE TIMES

Rachmaninoff: Trio élégiaque No. 1; Trio élégiaque No. 2; Romances, Op. 21, Nos. 5 and 7; Romances, Op. 38, Nos. 3 and 5; Tchaikovsky: The Seasons, Op. 37aNo. 10. Andrey Baranov, violin; Christoph Croisé, cello; Alexander Panfilov, cello. AVIE. $19.99.

Eduard Strauss: Waltzes and Polkas, Volume 3. Czech Chamber Philharmonic Orchestra Pardubice conducted by Marek Štilec. Marco Polo. $19.99.

Music for Solo Clarinet by Jean Rivier, Eberhard Werdin, Karl Maria Kubizek, Daron Hagen, and James Lee III. Jeremy Reynolds, clarinet. MSR Classics. $14.95.

     The sounds of the Romantic era are instantly recognizable for their lushness and emotional fullness, and certain composers are particularly identified with the time period – including Rachmaninoff, who was actually post-Romantic based on his lifetime (1873-1943), but who was steeped from his earliest compositions in the Romantic ethos and never moved far from it. Just how thoroughly Romanticism permeated Rachmaninoff’s music is evident from his two piano trios, composed in 1892 and 1893 respectively and intended as tributes to Rachmaninoff’s mentor, Tchaikovsky, who is often thought of as the quintessential Romantic composer. First-rate performances of the trios featuring Andrey Baranov, Christoph Croisé and Alexander Panfilov, now available on the AVIE label, clearly show Rachmaninoff’s debt to Tchaikovsky as well as his thoroughgoing absorption of the compositional elements of the Romantic time period. For all their similarities of sound, the two trios are strikingly different in approach. No. 1 is a single-movement work, written while Tchaikovsky was alive and having some musical as well as emotional connections to the older composer’s Op. 50 trio – which, ironically, was subtitled “in memory of a great artist” and was Tchaikovsky’s tribute to the recently deceased Nikolai Rubinstein. Tchaikovsky repeatedly expressed his dislike of the aural combination of violin, piano and cello, but Rachmaninoff is clearly comfortable with the sonic mixture, and unsurprisingly gives the piano an especially strong role. Baranov, Croisé and Panfilov focus on the first trio’s very considerable warmth and funereal atmosphere, dwelling on its dark G minor home key and its pervasive melancholy. The second trio, written as an elegy for Tchaikovsky after his death, is more on the scale of Tchaikovsky’s own and is substantial in every way, lasting some 50 minutes. This trio bears the same “in memory of a great artist” dedication as Tchaikovsky’s for Rubinstein, strongly cementing the relationship between the two works. Indeed, Rachmaninoff’s trio, which is in D minor, is structured very similarly to Tchaikovsky’s in A minor. All the weight of Rachmaninoff’s work is in the first two movements, which together last more than 40 minutes. The solemnity of the first is complemented by the more-varied second, which is a set of variations on a theme from Rachmaninoff’s symphonic poem The Rock. In this trio, as in his first, Rachmaninoff makes many demands of the piano, and the opening of the finale looks ahead to the composer’s later forays into piano-centric composition. The expansiveness of this trio comes through exceptionally well in this performance, with the three players complementing each other skillfully and each buoying the sound of the other two. Listeners will certainly be interested more in the trios than in the remainder of this CD, which also offers very fine sound and playing but which is rather thin gruel in terms of musical content. The five items added to the two trios are, in effect, pleasant encores. Four are from Romances by Rachmaninoff, as arranged by Panfilov; all are pleasant and unassuming. The fifth offers a direct, if brief, connection to Tchaikovsky: it is Autumn Song from The Seasons, arranged by Louis Eaton, and it practically weeps with nostalgia and the quiet sadness so closely identified with Romanticism and with Tchaikovsky in particular. The sensitivity of all the performances on this disc is considerable, the playing is very fine throughout, and the emotional connections of the music come through strongly and effectively.

     The frequently heavy emotionality of the Romantic era, it should be noted, had its counterpart and contrast in music deliberately created to be much lighter in character – with composers such as the members of Vienna’s Strauss family specializing in just that sort of less-fraught material. Johann Strauss Jr. and Josef Strauss remain celebrated for their contributions to this lighter-side-of-Romanticism genre, and Johann Strauss Sr. is also well-regarded. But the elder Strauss’ third and longest-surviving son, Eduard (1835-1916), has received much less attention, often complimented as a conductor in his lifetime but generally being dismissed as a composer of lesser works than those of his brothers and father. Conductor John Georgiadis (1939-2021) was making an attempt to delve into Eduard’s music deeply enough to uncover more value than others have found in it: his two volumes on the Marco Polo label brought out some gems as well as a number of what might be called semi-precious stones. With Georgiadis’ death, the Eduard Strauss project went into abeyance; but now there is a third entry in it, conducted very ably by Marek Štilec and played with considerable verve and style by the members of the Czech Chamber Philharmonic Orchestra Pardubice. Eduard Strauss is so underrepresented on disc that 14 of the 15 tracks on this CD are world première recordings in their original orchestrations; the 15th item, the brief fast polka Pegasus-Sprünge, is heard in an arrangement by Kurt Schmid. The earliest work on this disc dates to 1869, the latest to 1888, affirming that all this music was created at the height of the Romantic era and reflects elements of its sensibilities quite different from those in the music of composers of a much more serious orientation. Eduard Strauss, as this third entry in the Marco Polo series reaffirms, was especially adept in the shorter forms of dance music. There are seven examples here, one being Pegasus-Sprünge and the others called Herz und Welt (a polka-mazurka), Brausteufelchen (a combination fast polka and galop), In Lieb’ entbrannt (a polka française), Aus den schlesischen Bergen (a polka-mazurka), Ein Jahr freiwillig (a polka française), and Zeitvertreib (a fast polka). Each title refers to something specific at the time of the work’s composition, but what listeners will notice today is that these are not occasional pieces at all: Eduard Strauss imbues every one of them with style, bounce and melodic pleasantries that are at least at the same level as similar works by his elder brothers. The CD alternates the shorter pieces with waltzes: Wo Lust und Freude wohnen! is the first of these, followed by Glühlichter, Theorien, and Mit frohem Muth und heiterm Sinn! Then come Heitere Weisen, Stimmen aus dem Publikum, Widmungsblätter, and finally Denksprüche. These works also have many charms and are uniformly well-made, but they lack the thematic richness of waltzes by Johann Jr. and the near-symphonic developmental complexity of those by Josef. Falling short of those loftiest of accomplishments in three-quarter time, though, is scarcely justification for the longstanding neglect of Eduard Strauss’ waltzes, which sound fresh, melodically rich and very much danceable in these performances. There is a great deal more music by Eduard Strauss that has lain neglected for more than two centuries, and on the basis of this release and the two earlier ones, rediscovery of his music – and its place in the Romantic era – is long overdue, providing a much-needed balance for the serious emotional expressiveness with which Romantic music is more often associated.

     The post-Romantic sound world changed in many ways, some dramatic and others subtle, and the alterations are particularly interesting when it comes to music for a single instrument. The five solo-clarinet works on a new CD from MSR Classics offer listeners entry points to sounds that range from those of the post-Romantic time period to those of the 21st century. The earliest of these works dates to 1969 and is by Karl Maria Kubizek (1929-1995). Called Capriccio - 6 Stücke für klarinette solo, it offers half a dozen well-contrasted vignettes that include a very short and interestingly labeled Adagio sensibile, a bright and lively Allegretto capriccioso, a heartfelt Più lento e molto espressivo whose squeals show how far from Romantic sensibilities it lies, and a concluding Agitato filled with rhythmic and expressive changes – all of which Jeremy Reynolds handles with aplomb and a fine sense of tonal balance. From the same time period (1972) is a work by Jean Rivier (1896-1987) called Les Trois “S” pour clarinette solo. The overall title reflects three movements labeled Sillages (“wakes”), Soliloque (“soliloquy”), and Serpentins (“streamers”). This being a solo-clarinet piece, all three movements are really soliloquies, but Rivier is mainly interested in contrasting the moods as well as the techniques required for each of the three. The slow central movement here partakes rather more of the Romantic spirit than does anything in Kubizek’s work, but the dissonances and unexpected leaps created by Rivier – especially in the final movement – place the music firmly in the mid-to-late 20th century. Still more recent, dating to 1987, is a piece by Eberhard Werdin (1911-1991) called Impressionen für klarinette solo. It is in six very short movements – the longest just reaches two minutes – and gives the soloist plenty of opportunities to demonstrate a wide range of performance techniques, with all of which Reynolds appears to be totally comfortable. The minute-and-a-half Thema mit Variationen is a highlight here, as is the concluding Finale giocondo, which proves to be a touch lyrical as well as playful. The other pieces on this disc are from our current century. Icarus for Solo Clarinet is the shortest work on the CD, lasting just four minutes. It dates to 2007 and was written by Daron Hagen (born 1961). It explores and contrasts the instrument’s lowest and highest registers and, like several other pieces here, is a showcase for technique more than a listener-engaging experience. The disc concludes with the three-movement Principal Brothers No. 3 for Solo Clarinet (2020) by James Lee III (born 1975). This piece too gives the performer the chance to explore many techniques and to pull sounds of all sorts from the clarinet, not all of them reflective of the instrument’s usual warmth. smoothness and subtlety. All five works on this CD are world première recordings, and all five are much more likely to appeal to Reynolds’ fellow clarinetists than to a more-general audience – making this into a (+++) disc that, despite lasting just 49 minutes, packs in a considerable amount of exploration of woodwind sounds that go well beyond those of the Romantic era.