(++++) UNEXPECTED EXPRESSIVENESS

Schumann: Dichterliebe; Brahms: Cello Sonata No. 1; Schubert: An die Musik. Frank Morelli, bassoon; Wei-Yi Yang, piano. Musica Solis. $25. 

Wynton Marsalis: Meeelaan for bassoon and string quartet; Jeff Scott: Elegy for Innocence; Lori Laitman: I Never Saw Another Butterfly (version for voice and bassoon); Dominick Argento: Man with a Paint Box Aria from "Postcard from Morocco”; Nirmali Fenn: Prayer. Frank Morelli, bassoon; Wei-Yi Yang, piano; Janna Baty, mezzo-soprano; Callisto Quartet. Musica Solis. $25. 

     Vivaldi’s three dozen bassoon concertos were collectively the first works to show just how virtuosic and expressive this wind instrument could be – and they turned out to be a high point for bassoons and bassoonists, because after Vivaldi’s time there were very slim pickings for an instrument that soon found itself being used more for touches of humor than for anything substantively emotional. Certainly there were exceptions – Mozart’s, Hummel’s and Weber’s concertos come immediately to mind – but by and large, the bassoon got somewhat short shrift as a melodically elegant and multifaceted solo instrument over the years. That makes sensitive, thoughtful bassoon performances all the more welcome, and the ones by Frank Morelli on two Musica Solis CDs certainly qualify. The bassoon’s singing qualities are especially evident on the first disc, featuring bassoon arrangements of vocal works by Schubert and Schumann. Schubert’s brief An die Musik gets a beautifully sensitive handling that showcases the ways in which the bassoon can complement, if not quite duplicate, the human voice – a characteristic more often heard in the clarinet but shown by Morelli to apply equally well, if differently, to his instrument. Much more extended is Morelli’s arrangement of the entirety of Schumann’s Dichterliebe, and here the varying capabilities of the bassoon are fully explored. The loving nature of the first seven songs is thoroughly demonstrated, with very clear contrasts between, for example, the miniscule Die Rose, die Lille, die Taube, die Sonne and the following Wenn ich in deine Augen seh’. The character of Schumann’s music changes with the intense Ich grolle nicht, and the more-plaintive songs that follow bring out the poet’s and singer’s anger, grief and disappointment – all of which Morelli, ably abetted by Wei-Yi Yang, finds a way to filter through the bassoon-and-piano combination. Hör ich das Liedchen klingen is especially affecting as heard here. The final five songs become wistful and sad in ways that differentiate them from the earlier ones, and here too Morelli and Yang find ways to bring the emotions of the material to the fore even without the Heinrich Heine words that Schumann set so masterfully. The final two, comparatively upbeat-sounding songs allow the bassoon to brighten matters a bit without implying any less sensitivity to the loss of love – an expression inherently different from that of the voice but equally heartfelt. After the two presentations of vocal works, Morelli turns to Brahms’ Cello Sonata No. 1, and here his arrangement is as interesting in its way as is Brahms’ own arrangement for viola and piano of his Clarinet Sonatas, Op. 120. What this means is that while the bassoon certainly does not sound like the cello, its range is such that Brahms’ writing for cello lies quite naturally on the wind instrument almost throughout – except, obviously, for double stops, and occasionally when a change of register is needed. The breadth and warmth of Brahms would not seem especially well-suited to the bassoon, but Morelli’s highly accomplished playing demonstrates throughout this half-hour-plus work that the bassoon is fully capable of exploring the same emotional landscape that Brahms limns so thoroughly for the cello – an instrument that seems far more in tune with Brahms’ worldview and the “Brahms sound.” What Morelli does here is quite special: he shows that the bassoon is every bit as worthy for the expression of deeply felt thoughts and emotions as instruments, such as the cello, that are much more often deemed to offer a wide range of thinking and feeling alike. No one is likely to prefer the bassoon version of this Brahms sonata to the cello-and-piano original, but the fact that Morelli uses this work to demonstrate the bassoon’s capabilities so effectively is quite an accomplishment. 

     Morelli’s playing is every bit as impressive on a disc offering contemporary, much more personal music, some composed for him – and if this recording is ultimately a (+++) disc, that is because the works themselves are less inherently attractive than those on the Schubert/Schumann/Brahms recording. That being said, there are certainly many interesting elements here, if not necessarily emotionally gripping ones. Wynton Marsalis’ Meeelaan for bassoon and string quartet (the title reflecting the way Marsalis liked to greet bassoonist Milan Turkovic) not only combines the instruments in intriguing ways but also features rapid changes of pace, emotion and expressiveness throughout – all of which Morelli and the Callisto Quartet execute with élan and apparent ease. Jeff Scott’s Elegy for Innocence opens with simple warmth in the piano, sounding like a berceuse, then eventually goes through its own emotive differences, particularly in a darker central section that eventually gives way to a faster, brighter, more-optimistic conclusion. Lori Laitman’s six-song cycle I Never Saw Another Butterfly is feelingly presented by Janna Baty in a version for soprano and bassoon, but here the combination feels somewhat forced no matter how elegantly Morelli backs up the mezzo-soprano voice. The issue is more in the rather conventional and not altogether convincing settings of the poetry than in the actual performance: the texts come from poems written by imprisoned children at the Nazis’ Terezin concentration camp, but the maturity of the vocalizing and the range required to deliver the words seem like a veneer of sophistication that does not fit the material particularly well. Certainly Morelli, for whom this version of the work (originally for solo voice and alto saxophone) was composed, approaches the material with engagement and involvement; but the piece as a whole, however well-meaning, does not sustain particularly well. Dominick Argento’s Man with a Paint Box Aria from "Postcard from Morocco” is, like the Schubert and Schumann transcriptions that Morelli plays, a vocal work – in this case an opera aria – heard in a bassoon arrangement. This is not a very effective transcription, however: Yang’s pianism carries more weight and greater lyricism than does Morelli’s bassoon playing, and there is throughout the work a feeling that Argento is trying a bit too hard to evoke emotions and, as a result, matters seem more forced than heartfelt. The case is quite different with Nirmali Fenn’s Prayer, written for Morelli. Here the bassoon is supposed to imitate the sound of the oboe-like duduk, an Armenian instrument, and as a result the aural world of this work is substantively different from that of the others on this CD. The piece is not, however, particularly evocative of prayer as the audience may expect to understand the term: it is intended to evoke the Muslim call to prayer rather than being a prayer in and of itself. The sounds that Fenn calls for and Morelli delivers are intellectually intriguing, and Morelli’s ability to clothe his instrument in the garments of a different one certainly speaks to his sheer skill in performance. However, Fenn’s piece itself – in which the piano repeatedly puts in appearances that seem more intrusive than collaborative – does not remain engaging throughout its 10-minute duration. Like most of the other music here, it abundantly showcases Morelli’s passionate attachment to the bassoon and his ability to communicate through the instrument in multiple ways and forms. But it is hard to imagine most listeners returning repeatedly to this disc for any sort of listening pleasure or involvement. The CD bears the title “From the Soul,” but the sense here is more of a demonstration project than of the expression of a deeply meaningful connection to a broad audience.