(++++) COLORFULLY YOURS

World of Color: A Journey of Coloring Challenges. By Kerby Rosanes. Plume. $16.

     Some of the best pages in Kerby Rosanes’ latest book are not by Kerby Rosanes – at least, not entirely. The first 16 pages of Rosanes’ latest elaborate coloring book for adults feature Rosanes art that has already been colored in – or, more accurately, there are 12 pages of colored-in art, plus four pages crediting the colorists and explaining the effects of their chosen handling of the original black-and-white material. The dozen colored-in pages are more than just a guide to possibilities – they are, in and of themselves, fascinating forays into the fantasy worlds created by Rosanes with his usual intricacy, showing specific ways those worlds can be brought to vibrant life through specific color choices, using one coloring medium or another (traditional methods and digital ones, for example, either used separately or combined).

     The point of Rosanes’ coloring books is to provide visual engagement while stimulating readers’ (or, more accurately, viewers’) thoughts about how the black-and-white art could look if colored in one specific way or another. What makes the dozen examples at the start of World of Color so involving is the way they skillfully showcase possibilities without foreclosing the color-focused thinking of anyone who looks at and studies them. For example, the most striking two-page spread in the “already colored” section shows two gigantic, monstrous beings: a werewolf looking to the left on the left-hand page and an extraordinarily evil-looking demon looking to the right on the right-hand one. The werewolf page is dominated by colors in the red spectrum, reflecting the wolf’s reddish-brown coat and carrying through to some of the buildings shown below and behind the wolf – and even carrying into the sky. The demon’s color palette, on the other hand, is all purple and blue, a combination that somehow makes the already frightening creature’s pose even scarier and, again, carries through to some of the buildings over which it towers and even into the sky above the scene. Effective in themselves, these colorings will also provide ideas for viewers of World of Color to use on their own. For instance, someone seeing the werewolf/demon pages might wonder about creating a page in which the foreground creature was contrasted with its surroundings, thus emphasizing its differentness, instead of blending into them, thus becoming part of a larger, frightening world.

     There are plenty of opportunities after the initial 16 pages to put one’s own imprint on Rosanes’ creations. The werewolf/demon two-page spread and other already-colored illustrations from early in the book are offered later in black-and-white, along with entirely different sorts of elaborately constructed fantasy scenes that are often but not always horrific. Some of Rosanes’ illustrations are nature-focused, such as one of a giant, gentle-eyed gorilla looming over a forested land and gently cradling an entire grouping of trees, and one of a realistic-looking wolf – again, a giant – carrying an entire wolf pack/family on its back and loping through mountains of its own scale. An open-mouthed, roaring tiger with butterflies flitting all around it is a fascinating study in contrasts, while a violin-playing water spirit with gentle-looking face but with bones (including a skull) floating nearby provides a strong contrast of mood and intention.

     Readers/viewers of previous Rosanes books will recognize many of the illustrations that have appeared in his other coloring books in the past – and will welcome them if the originals have since been colored and put on display or kept for future enjoyment. Because the illustrations in World of Color come from multiple places, it is unlikely that anyone but a longstanding fan of Rosanes will have seen all of them before; so there is a good variety of material to be enjoyed and colored here, both for those new to Rosanes and those familiar with him. The more-surreal pages are especially intriguing, such as one showing three candle-like buildings whose top floors appear to have been melted by the flames burning on wicks sticking out of their tops – or are those “flames on wicks” actually trees growing out of ancient, ruined temples that are still being visited by the camel-riding human figures (small, faceless ones) seen at the bottom of the page? Rosanes has real skill both for creating weird worlds and for rendering them in art that is attractive in and of itself while also inviting all sorts of potential colors to enhance (or at least alter) the pages’ original appearance. World of Color is particularly effective for inviting the creation of one’s own world of color while looking at some of the worlds of color that other people have found to be lying within Rosanes’ intriguingly and intricately drawn black-and-white originals.

(++++) RARE AND NOT SO RARE

Inside the Orphan Drug Revolution: The Promise of Patient-Centered Biotechnology. By James A. Geraghty. Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory Press. $29.

     Whether rare and well-known or rare and little-known, diseases affecting a relatively small number of people are a big business collectively. But they are a very small business individually, not worthwhile for major pharmaceutical companies to spend years of time and hundreds of millions of dollars developing treatments for them – especially not in light of the ongoing, virtually never-ending push by politicians to bring drug prices down. After all, if even medicines that treat large numbers of people have to be sold at lower and lower prices, all the while facing the “patent cliff” after which their protected status (which in the U.S. lasts 20 years from the date of first patent application, a date not necessarily related to actual sale or availability of a drug) disappears and therapeutically identical generics take over, then why should pharmaceutical firms make a major effort to create medicines that, by definition, can help only a relatively small number of people? A good question – answered in part by devising the term “orphan drugs” to refer to medicines that treat “orphan diseases,” which affect too few people to attract big money from big pharma.

     Then, enter small biotech companies, regarding which James A. Geraghty has more than a little knowledge, having chaired five public ones and been involved in the orphan-drug field for four decades. Inside the Orphan Drug Revolution is part history, part advocacy, part (happily, not too large a part) self-aggrandizement – a book that does not merely recite heart-wrenching stories of people suffering from rare diseases (although it contains those), does not merely get into the politics of drug research and approval (although it contains that, too), but makes a genuine effort to argue for the importance of continuing research into treatments for conditions that collectively affect many people and many families even though they individually affect relatively few.

     How many is “few”? Ah, the devil in the details: things get complicated quickly. Officially – under the definition of the Orphan Drug Act of 1983 – an orphan disease affects fewer than 200,000 people in the United States (other nations have other definitions, but Geraghty’s book is primarily U.S.-focused). As it happens, though, some orphan diseases are quite well-known, such as hemophilia and sickle cell anemia (also called sickle cell disease). And the federal government, which propagates the “orphan disease” definition in the first place, sometimes sends confusing messages about better-known rare diseases, as in the Center for Disease Control and Prevention’s definition, “Sickle cell disease (SCD) is a common inherited blood disorder in the United States, affecting an estimated 70,000 to 100,000 Americans.” So although it is a rare disease in the population as a whole, it is a common one among inherited blood diseases.

     Confused messaging is only one element making the battle against orphan diseases difficult. The 1983 Orphan Drug Act, the banner achievement in the field, very nearly did not come into existence – until a well-placed advertisement caught the right person’s eye: “President Reagan planned to veto the Orphan Drug Act but changed his mind after supporters took out a stark ad in a paper read by his wife Nancy while they were on a Christmas vacation in Palm Springs.” With such small and surprising steps, neatly worked into the narrative of Inside the Orphan Drug Revolution, do science and medicine advance. Make that “science, medicine, and entrepreneurship,” which Geraghty cites as the three roots of his book’s titular revolution. Indeed, Geraghty – unsurprisingly, given his non-medical, non-scientific background (he has psychology and law degrees) – ranks the three elements essentially equally: “The root that stimulated the linkage of biotechnology and genetics came from the entrepreneurs” (hence the element of self-praise in the book).

     It is worth mentioning some of Geraghty’s sobering statistics regarding orphan diseases to understand why the field, and Geraghty’s own place in it, are worth readers’ time even if they do not personally suffer from a rare disease: there are an estimated 7,000 rare genetic diseases in all, most affecting only tens to hundreds of people – but the group as a whole has an impact on nearly one-tenth of the U.S. population. Of course, as with all statistics, one’s reaction to the numbers is dictated by how they are emphasized: lots of people are affected by these diseases, but very very few are affected by most of them (which explains why about 95% have no available treatment). The issue for major pharmaceutical companies is the very very few emphasis; for individual families that are affected, and for advocates such as Geraghty, the lots is what matters.

     So in addition to explaining orphan diseases and orphan drugs, and detailing entrepreneurial and political issues associated with the field, Geraghty eventually becomes prescriptive regarding the sustainability of the “revolution” of his book’s title. This, unsurprisingly, is where things get sticky. He argues that in the future, the revolution “must be led by patients,” and he talks about focusing on “ultra-orphan diseases” that affect fewer than 10,000 people in the U.S. He argues for much-more-common screening for orphan and ultra-orphan diseases, even when no treatment is available, since screening itself has become far easier and more technologically advanced in recent years – and he then broadens his scope with some rather Utopian ideals, such as ensuring that all (not “nearly all”) people who need orphan drugs receive them, both in richer nations and in poorer ones. He even pulls in, unnecessarily, some of the cause-of-the-day language regarding “increasing organizational diversity…among historically underrepresented U.S. minority groups.” But he goes beyond pie-in-the-sky thinking when he gets down to some of the basics of drug development and pricing, for instance by suggesting that politicians focus on reducing co-pays for drugs rather than the drugs’ prices – since the out-of-pocket co-pay is what will most likely limit a patient’s access to needed medicine. It is true that Inside the Orphan Drug Revolution is, on one level, just another book about how scarce societal resources should be redirected toward something the author cares about. On another level, though, the book is significant because it does such a good job of indicating why readers themselves, even those not personally affected by orphan diseases, should pay more attention to the topic.

(++++) BEING BRASSY

Music for Trumpet Solo, Trumpet and Chamber Ensemble, and Trumpet and Orchestra. Charles Schlueter, trumpet. MSR Classics. $29.95 (3 CDs).

     The inherent celebratory nature of a retrospective look at a performer’s career often results in more attention being paid to the quality of the musician than to the quality of the music. That is, a “looking back at performing life” release can all too easily fall into hagiography – to which such releases are, unsurprisingly, always prone – based more on how someone plays than on what he or she plays.

     However, there are times when the combination of performance skill and chosen repertoire turns out to be a happy one when looking back at a musician’s career. And that is, by and large, the situation with a three-CD MSR Classics release focusing on the four-decade trumpet career of Charles Schlueter (born 1939). Schlueter has a remarkable biography, having been principal trumpet with the Kansas City Philharmonic, Milwaukee Symphony, Cleveland Orchestra, Minnesota Orchestra, and Boston Symphony. Obviously numerous conductors and music directors heard something very special in Schlueter’s playing – and this release does a fine job of showing what that “something” was. It soon becomes apparent that it was actually multiple “somethings,” ranging from fluidity of tone to excellence of phrasing, warmth of sound production, and really exceptional breath control – in some of the pieces on this release, it is hard not to wonder how Schlueter manages to breathe at all while delivering very lengthy passages.

     It is true and probably inevitable that not everything on the recording is of equal interest, but there is enough substantial and substantive music here to show Schlueter’s sensitivity of communication and ability to delve effectively into material of the Romantic era and beyond. Actually, the failure to include any older music is the one major disappointment in this otherwise excellent release: the trumpet has a much longer history than a listener would recognize from this material. Still, within its chosen time period, the recording shows both the music and the performer in the best possible light. The first disc focuses on solo trumpet and trumpet with piano, including Intrada for Solo Trumpet in C (1958) by Otto Ketting (1935-2012); Intrada for Trumpet and Piano (1947) by Arthur Honegger (1892-1955); a sonata for trumpet and piano from 1944 by Jean Hubeau (1917-1992) and another, from 1987, by Robert Suderburg (1938-2013); Marsha’s Gift for trumpet and piano (2005) by Norman Bolter (born 1955); A Song from the Heart for trumpet and piano (2007) by Eric Ewazen (born 1954); and Duo Concerto for Trumpet and Organ (1997) by Tomáš Svoboda (born1939). Nothing here is major music, but individual elements are attractive, such as the short Intermède in the piece by Hubeau, the deliberately distracting Procession that concludes Suderburg’s work, and the sweet sounds of Ewazen’s songfulness.

     The second CD features chamber music, and there is some overlap with the first disc. The pieces here are a sonata from 1958 by Yves Chardon (1902-2000); Ceremonies for trumpet and piano (1984) by Suderburg; a trumpet-and-piano sonata from 1939 by Paul Hindemith (1895-1963); Fanfare for a New Theater (1964) by Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971);  a sonata for horn, trumpet and trombone (1922/1945) by Francis Poulenc (1899-1963), plus Poulenc’s brief Ave Verum Corpus (1952); Fanfare for St. Edmundsbury for three trumpets (1959) by Benjamin Britten (1913-1976); and the Septet for trumpet, string quintet and piano (1879-80) by Camille Saint-Saëns (1835-1921). The dates of the composers clearly show Schlueter’s predilections when it comes to music for his instrument – and while it is wonderful to have a bit of Poulenc, Stravinsky, Britten and Saint-Saëns here (especially the very interesting Poulenc and highly engaging Saint-Saëns), it is a touch disconcerting to realize that Suderburg, scarcely a major composer, is represented twice. The tiny Stravinsky fanfare (lasting less than a minute) and the longer one by Britten certainly give Schlueter the opportunity to display differing and equally interesting elements of trumpet sound and technique, and the Saint-Saëns Septet is as charmingly old-fashioned as always (even neo-Baroque, unintentionally raising again the question of why no actual Baroque music is heard here).

     The third CD includes six works for trumpet with orchestra or wind ensemble: the ubiquitous and always delightful concerto (1803)  by Johann Nepomuk Hummel (1778-1837), its finale here a bit more restrained that ideally it should be; Prayer of Saint Gregory (1946) by Alan Hovhaness (1911-2000); Odyssey (1997) by Ruth Lomon (1930-2017); On the Cusp (1999) by Norman Bolter (born 1955); Duo Fantastique for two trumpets (2007) by James Stephenson (born 1969); and Statements (2010) by Albert Tiberio (born 1935). The Lomon, Bolter, and Tiberio works are world première recordings, establishing Schlueter’s bona fides as regards a commitment to contemporary music. The exuberant Stephenson piece is the highlight of this latter portion of the third disc, although the generally upbeat Tiberio work – especially in the contrast between its fourth-movement Cantilena and fifth-and-last-movement Bravura – is a tour de force that justifies its placement as the conclusion of a “tribute” release that very effectively shows just how fine a player Schlueter was throughout his many years of leading the trumpets at a wide variety of very fine orchestras.

(++++) SHOWCASING SOLOISTS

Music for Solo Violin from Modena, 1650-1700. Peter Sheppard Skærved, violin. Athene. $18.99.

Prokofiev: Cello Sonata; Stravinsky: Suite Italienne; Nadia Boulanger: Trois Pièces pour violoncelle et piano. Miriam K. Smith, cello; Sandra Wright Shen, piano. Azica. $16.99.

Christopher Tyler Nickel: Sonatas and Chamber Music for Oboe and Oboe d’amore. Mary Lynch VanderKolk, oboe and oboe d’amore; Paige Roberts Molloy, piano; Eduardo Rios and Andy Liang, violins; Olivia Chew, viola; Efe Baltacigil, cello. AVIE. $17.99.

     Soloist-focused CDs often have the unfortunate effect of making the performer seem more important than what is performed – especially when, as is all too often the case, the music is distinctly minor or comes across as a series of encores, showcasing a performer’s talents effectively but not providing listeners with a particularly memorable experience beyond that of hearing small stuff well-played. In some cases, though, a performer-focused release rises above the pack, even when it does contain some less-than-stellar music. Peter Sheppard Skærved’s discs exploring the great violins of specific time periods are cases in point, partly because the focus of all of these CDs is on the instruments as well as the highly skilled player wielding them. The latest Athene CD in this series features Skærved playing a 1572 Amati violin in two extended works by Giovanni Battista Vitali (1632-1692) and Giuseppe Colombi (1635-1694), plus an anonymous instrument from Brescia, circa 1570, in four brief anonymous pieces from the 150-plus works in the 17^th-century Rost Codex. From an academic/musicological perspective, the exploration here centers on the city of Modena, Italy, in the time period near the end of the 1600s, and all the music is heard here in world première recordings in solo-violin form. Although both Vitali and Colombi worked in numerous forms, their pieces on this disc are in the dance-suite format so familiar to audiences interested in Baroque music. Vitali’s eight-movement Partite sopra diverse sonate per il violino solo contains some interesting structural elements, such as a Capriccio sopra il cinque passi followed immediately by a Capriccio di tromba. Its concluding Barabano is one of the few relatively familiar works by Vitali. Colombi’s Scordatura e Composizioni Varie has even more movements – 14 in all – including four labeled Allemanda and two sarabandes; it too ends with a Barabano, this one more extended than Vitali’s. Colombi’s Giga and Scordatura movements are particularly interesting rhythmically. As for the four anonymous works, three are labeled Allemanda a violino solo sine basso and the fourth and longest is a Sonatina a violino solo verstimbt – the last word being essentially the German equivalent of scordatura. Every piece on the disc is well-crafted and designed to showcase the skill of the performer, and Skærved certainly has skill to spare in this repertoire. The disc is admittedly for a somewhat limited audience, the composers not being especially well-known, the pieces not especially well-differentiated from others of the time, and audience interest in hearing specific instruments not being particularly widespread. Nevertheless, the combination of Skærved’s performance excellence with the very high quality of the violins he uses here and the well-composed if not especially distinctive music make this disc a pleasure to hear.

     The focus is quite deliberately on the artist rather than her repertoire on a new Azica disc featuring cellist Miriam K. Smith – because Smith is being promoted as the latest instrumental sensation, the works here having been recorded in 2021, when she was just 15. Prodigies come and go, however; the question is whether Smith will have staying power – and whether the disc is worth having because of its artistic quality, not merely as a curiosity representing performances by someone just getting started on what may turn into a remarkable career. Happily, Smith’s performances with pianist Sandra Wright Shen are worthy in themselves and worthwhile for listeners interested in the repertoire to have. The Prokofiev Cello Sonata, written in 1949 for Mstislav Rostropovich, sounds full and rich here, the performers blending with seeming naturalness and the varying roles of the cello and piano nicely balanced: there is occasional competition but mostly cooperation in the musicians’ parts, and although the cello dominates the material, the piano’s significance is clear and is well-communicated by Shen. The Prokofiev contrasts interestingly with Stravinsky’s Suite Italienne, an earlier work (1932-33) that is based on Pulcinella and was composed in collaboration with another famed 20^th-century cellist, Gregor Piatigorsky. Stravinsky rediscovered the music of the past in Pulcinella, essentially beginning his neoclassical explorations with a work based on pieces then thought to have been composed by Giovanni Battista Pergolesi (1710-1736). Suite Italienne, in its moodiness but comparative lightness, contrasts strongly with Prokofiev’s sonata, which was written after World War II and one year after the composer had been sanctioned by Soviet government censors. The best thing in Smith’s and Shen’s performance of Suite Italienne is their sensitivity to the balletic elements of the score: although the work is not a compression of Pulcinella, it is derived from the ballet, and benefits from rhythms that frequently sound danceable. Smith and Shen get this aspect of the suite just right. The concluding work on this intriguingly programmed CD is by Nadia Boulanger (1887-1979), far better known as a teacher (and conductor) than as a composer. The Trois Pièces pour violoncelle et piano date to 1914, having been arranged that year by Boulanger from her original version of the pieces for organ. These are short works – all three together run just eight minutes – and have moods that nicely complement and contrast with those of the Prokofiev and Stravinsky offerings on this disc. The first piece is delicate and fragile, the muted cello (often used in its higher range) neatly reflecting some Impressionist thinking. The second is peaceful and slightly sad, more lullaby-like than anything else, using mostly the cello’s middle range and ending quietly. The third brings the piano into prominence with strong chords that contrast with wide leaps in the cello – the movement is marked (in French) “quickly and nervously,” and Smith and Shen take the designation to heart in their performance. In its totality, this is a CD of considerable variety that at the same time explores some interesting relationships and contrasts among the three pieces offered – certainly a worthy disc on a purely musical basis, apart from whatever focus it invites on the youthful cellist featured here.

     Seattle Symphony principal oboist Mary Lynch VanderKolk is the primary focus of a new AVIE recording of music by Canadian composer Christopher Tyler Nickel, most of whose works are for film and television. This CD focuses on Nickel working in more-traditional classical forms, inspired in part by VanderKolk (to whom the Sonata for Oboe is dedicated). The sonata includes two Andante movements (Andante cantabile and Andante lacrimoso) and a short, upbeat finale (Allegro agitato). It gives VanderKolk plenty of chances to display her warm, rich tone, and the last movement offers a pleasantly jazzy contrast to the rather overdone emotionality of the first two, but the work as a whole is rather surface-level. The Sonata for Oboe d’amore is similarly structured, with movements marked Andante and Andante cantabile before an Allegro con fuoco finale. The two sonatas are of almost identical length – 15-and-a-half minutes – and really sound much the same, despite the difference in the instruments. Indeed, Nickel takes little advantage of the differing expressive possibilities of oboe and oboe d’amore, offering two works that are pleasant enough, somewhat lyrical, but ultimately forgettable. The four-movement Suite for Unaccompanied Oboe runs just nine minutes, but it gives VanderKolk more opportunities to demonstrate her instrument’s expressive possibilities. The opening Giocoso, in particular, with its little leaps and bounces here and there, comes across well, its playfulness a strong contrast to the overly earnest approach of the two sonatas. The Quintet for Oboe d’amore is also interesting, Nickel showing some skill at setting the wind instrument against the four stringed ones – although the first and third movements, respectively Moderato and Andante, suffer from some of the same trying-too-hard approach found in the sonatas. The very slow second movement, marked Reflectively, comes across better, the oboe d’amore here having a ruminative tone that suits the instrument’s capabilities well. And the concluding Con fuoco allows VanderKolk to take this essentially gentle instrument into slightly more astringent territory, its contrast with the strings here being especially pronounced. This is a (+++) disc in which the soloist really does take, and deserve, center stage, although the music itself never quite allows VanderKolk to produce the sort of emotional heft of which, based on glimmers here and there, she appears clearly to be capable.