(+++) TO CELEBRATE AND TO CHALLENGE

Contemporary Uzbek Music for Clarinet and Piano. Sayyod Mirzomurodov, clarinet; Mariya Akhadjanova, piano. Clarinet & Saxophone Classics. $13.99. 

Contemporary Music for Brass by Valerie Coleman, Satashi Yagisawa, Barbara York, Katahj Copley, Harrison Collins, Katelyn Petersen, and Félix Mendoza. Brass for Uncommon Times conducted by Brian Kaufman. Naxos. $19.99. 

     World première recordings abound when it comes to contemporary-music CDs, and are even more likely when the discs have a very specific focus – as does one featuring Sayyod Mirzomurodov and Mariya Akhadjanova on the Clarinet & Saxophone Classics label. Every piece on the CD – there are nine of them, by six composers – is a world première recording; seven of the pieces were written in the 21^st century. None of the composers here will likely be known to most audiences; indeed, many listeners would be hard-pressed to locate Uzbekistan (and other Central Asian nations) on a globe or world map. But one thing that music can do, sometimes very effectively, is to reach across borders and function as a unifying force in a world that increasingly feels dislocated and dysfunctional. One avowed purpose of this recording is to familiarize listeners with contemporary Uzbek concert-hall music and, through the music, to bring greater awareness of Uzbek culture and background – on which these pieces draw again and again – to audiences heretofore unacquainted with them. Whether an exploratory venture like this one reaches out successfully ultimately depends on the music itself: however well-meaning the assemblage of material, however reflective the works are of the culture from which they spring, they need to stand on their own as pieces worthy not just of hearing but of re-hearing in order to sustain and retain more than curiosity value. Thus, the success of this endeavor largely falls on the music of Mustafo Bafoyev (born 1946), four of whose pieces are heard here, collectively taking up more than half the CD’s length. The most-substantial work is a piano reduction of Bafoyev’s Concerto for Clarinet and Orchestra (2008). This is a multifaceted concerto of considerable scope, requiring not only virtuosity from the clarinet but also great sensitivity to the instrument’s considerable emotionally evocative potential. Rhythms and harmonies range from ones that are generally familiar in contemporary works to ones that evoke and draw upon specific Uzbek musical characteristics, giving the piece pleasantly unusual coloration and a sense of the comparatively exotic. Unfortunately, in the absence of the orchestra, it is impossible to know just how well the music works as a true concerto: Akhadjanova handles the piano part with aplomb, but there is really no substitute for the scope and coloration of a full instrumental ensemble in a work designed to highlight the soloist within a soundworld of greater scope than the piano can provide. Bafoyev’s three other works on this disc are much more modestly scaled. Buxorcha (2024) calls on many of the same elements as does the concerto, highlighting the clarinet’s expressive capabilities within rhythms that sometimes sway gently, sometimes become more declarative, and shade over into density and intensity at the end. Qo’shiq-poema (Song-Poem) (2012) is gentler, more lyrical and warmer, sustaining itself expressively throughout. And Lirik Hikoya (Lyrical Story) (1972) is all warmth and expressiveness at a moderate tempo that allows the music to unfold naturally. The rest of the pieces on this disc all have interesting elements of their own to present. Fantasy (2024) by Sherzod Sobirov (born 1988) is a brightly energetic tour de force that dips briefly into more-lyrical material. Sonata for Clarinet and Piano (2024) by Farrukh Akramov (born 1985) is a single-movement work packed with contrasting elements for both clarinet and piano, and with more-extensive dissonance than in many of the pieces heard here. Sonata-Fantaziya (2024) by Nurali Erkaev (born 1991), also a one-movement piece, is even more dissonant, and pushes the clarinet into a high range where the instrument is not at its best or most expressive – although more-congenial material provides a degree of balance from time to time. Poema-ballada (2016) by Habibulla Rahimov (born 1946) has a more insistently contemporary sound than many other works on the disc, refusing to establish any real sense of flow or rhythmic regularity and instead having both clarinet and piano produce fragmentary material that is sometimes contrasting, sometimes complementary. And Sharq Kaprichchiosi (Eastern Capriccio) (1994) by Anvar Ergashev (1954-2020) ends the disc with a multiplicity of techniques and sounds, its forays into pointed dynamism contrasted with bouts of perkiness, on the one hand, and dips into warmer expressiveness, on the other. As a totality, the disc stands out for the quality of the performances and for the clear evidence it provides of a vibrant contemporary Uzbek music scene. Little seems to separate the individual composers’ styles, however: the distinctiveness here lies more in the fact that they all use material drawn from Uzbek culture than from any significant stylistic propensity setting any specific composers apart from any others. The foundational question of the likelihood of listeners wanting to re-hear any of these pieces is not clearly answered by any individual work on the disc: repeat listening will likely be an all-or-nothing matter for non-Uzbek audiences, since everything here speaks a similar musical language, and no piece stands far enough above the rest to become a work especially worthy of being heard again and again. 

     Most but not all of the works on a Naxos CD of 21^st-century music played by the ensemble called Brass for Uncommon Times are world première recordings, but while this disc certainly intends to showcase the quality of its featured performers, the underlying purpose of the music here is very different from that of the disc featuring Mirzomurodov and Akhadjanova. This is an entire CD of what might be called “cause” music, meaning works written in furtherance of a particular viewpoint or to highlight composers’ sociopolitical beliefs – works that, in other words, specifically exist for reasons beyond the music itself. This begs the question of whether the pieces are successful as music: if listeners are required to adhere to whatever point of view a composer puts forth – or at least to study that point of view carefully before hearing a piece – then the composer wants extramusical matters rather than musical ones to be the driving force for the audience. By definition, this limits the outreach potential of the music: nowadays not even a tub-thumping national anthem is sufficiently universal in appeal to reach out beyond a core group of enthusiasts. Thus, the effectiveness of this disc is tied more closely to societal issues and political stances than to the inherent qualities of the works themselves. There is nevertheless material of considerable interest here. The longest piece is a 2021 arrangement of Concerto for Tuba “Wars and Rumors of War” by Barbara York (1949-2020). Packed with suitably optimistic-sounding, foursquare march tunes that eventually devolve into nostalgic material reflecting a soldier’s wish to be home and far from battle, then concluding with a chaotic finale intended as an antiwar message, the piece is much more interesting for its handling of the tuba solo (played very well by Velvet Brown) than for its thoroughly unexceptional viewpoint. The second-longest work on the disc is Respire (2022) by Katelyn Petersen (born 2000), which is supposed to be about how difficult it is to breathe, both literally and metaphorically, because of environmental degradation and spiritual heaviness. The expressive arc through dissonance and struggle to eventual hoped-for calm is clear enough although scarcely original; the piece does, however, show Petersen’s skill especially in the use of massed brass forces. The other works on the disc are shorter but equally focused on societal matters. Fanfare for Uncommon Times (2021) by Valerie Coleman (born 1970) uses the instrumentation that Copland chose for Fanfare for the Common Man but tries, not particularly clearly, to focus on racial unrest and the COVID-19 pandemic. Listeners may find it interesting to listen back-to-back to Coleman’s work and that by Copland – who was scarcely unaware of the societal challenges of his time. Blueshine Emblem, An Eternal Elegy (2006) by Satoshi Yagisawa (born 1975) is about the world being in conflicts of all sorts, using forceful ensemble sections to contrast with solo-instrument passages intended to indicate fear, timidity, worry and so forth. The solo and full-group portions contrast well, even though they do not really make the points the composer wants to make. Beyond (2018) by Katahj Copley (born 1998) is supposed to home in on victims of gun violence. Interestingly, it structurally does not focus on that topic at all, being expressive and uplifting throughout – the intent is to escort the souls of the victims to a better afterlife. There is nothing particularly original in the musical writing itself, but the underlying notion is at least less formulaic than are the underpinnings of many of the other works heard here. Young Voices (2018) by Harrison Collins (born 1999) is a piece intended to reflect the combination of confusion and determination of today’s youth – as if those feelings are unique to the modern era and the current young-adult generation. Leaving aside the rather silly notion that nobody ever before had difficulty negotiating the world and finding his or her place in it, the piece has a level of forthright boldness that is at odds with its supposedly uncertain and questioning foundations. It is quite well written as music even though it is intended to be supra-musical. The CD concludes in unexpectedly upbeat fashion with Guerra de Secciones (2007) by Félix Mendoza (born 1983). It features vocals by Hiram Diaz, Fran Vielma on percussion, and Daniel Prim on drum kit, and is an ebullient affirmation of the sounds and rhythms of Venezuela, intended to celebrate music – yes, music – and the pleasures that making it and participating it in bring, no matter what the external circumstances may be. There is a life-affirming quality to this piece that stands in strong contrast to the generally downcast outlook of all the other music on the CD, and while everything on the disc is performed with skill and engagement by the ensemble under Brian Kaufman, this piece brings out celebratory qualities that the others seem unable or unwilling to produce. The message here, to the extent that one is intended, seems to be one of hopefulness despite everything – a considerably more attractive conclusion to the disc than yet another dour exploration of real and imagined wrongs would have been.