Have you ever had one of those moments when, checking out some new music, time seemed to stop, breathing halted and you seemed utterly and irretrievably transported to another place? I had this experience from the first note of Anne Akiko Meyer’s Air: The Bach Album playing “Air” from Orchestral Suite No. 3 in D major, BWV 1068. I had this experience with Doric String Quartet’s new album Schubert: String Quartets Nos. 12 & 15. From the moment you hear the opening of the String Quartet No. 12 in C Minor, D. 703, “Quartettsatz”, you know you’re in for something special. Of course, your next thought is: “Drama much”? Schubert goes full tilt from the opening and the Doric String Quartet transport us into Schubert’s wide-ranging controlled chaos. There is care even in the initial intensity; it is fluid yet precise, sonorous yet buoyant. It is pure liquid loveliness.
While I have listened to Schubert’s string quartets before, I’ll admit to not being hugely intimate with them. My bad. I love the playful dance-like quality that is interspersed amongst more reflective movements. They embody so much – ethereal light bonbon moving to an earthy cello repast, sweeping passages of quick action with slower sections evoking a more serious gravitas. I love how they bring out the sense of this mild-mannered Schubert smelling the roses then his inner Teutonic intensity bursts upon us. These various emotions, settings, and passages are ordered to fit like puzzle pieces so that it’s hard to imagine any different musical construction.
Doric String Quartet
This is my introduction to the Doric String Quartet, Alex Redington (violin), Jonathan Stone (violin), Hélène Clément (viola), and John Myerscough (cello), and most definitely will not be my last record of theirs. (I’m thinking the Janáček/Martinů for the next one). They have a lovely touch that mixes delicate precision with emotion and lyricism. Moreover, the recording seems to be a nearly perfect blend of intimate sound while preserving an open sound stage. While their recording venue, Potton Hall, Suffolk, seems low key (you’ll never confuse their control room with the one at Abbey Studios), the sound signature generated there is spot on. It doesn’t hurt that Chandros put these out in 24 bit, 96 kHz release (available on HDTracks in the U.S.) During some of the earthier passages, you can hear and almost feel, the grip of the rosin on the cellist’s bow. Pauses are utterly silent with no recoding noise. I had an opportunity to listen to this on my LG V20 (review to come – spoiler, overall I love it) phone alternating between Grado SR80s and Sennheiser Momentum headphones (more about these in Cans – A Personal Journey Through Soundscapes). The V20 has an ESS quad DAC capable of 32-bit 384 kHz PCM and DSD51 which is a geek-speak for “it outputs faithful sound for a smart phone.”
Potton Hall Recording Studio
I think my teen son may have put it best – when done listening to ‘Quartettsatz’ (Quartet, D 703, String Quartet 12), he said “That was amazing. It started…” then he made a grrr sound while shaking his head, AKA said Teutonic intensity, “then…” and he waved his arms and slowly waved his head around apparently mesmerized by the more melodic movements. I feel. My son, Guy, is not inarticulate; attempting to put into words what Doric String Quartet brings out of Schubert in this recording is a Sisyphean task. So, seriously, just go get this album. Plunking down your hard earned cash will rarely be so rewarded.
Remember that moment when Christian Bale hears the opening notes to Beethoven’s Nr. 9 (“Chorale”) Symphony in Equilibrium and he simply drops an Eiffle Tower snow globe, mouth agape? No? Wow, go watch it, it’s a great movie. Bale is so moved because that is the first piece of music he has ever heard in his life and he is viscerally struck by the stark beauty of it.
I had a bit of that moment listening to Simon Rattle conduct the Vienna Philharmonic in the same piece. This time, however, it was in the lush strings in the 4th movement Allegro Assai, think very joyful, just before the introduction to what we’ve come to think of as “Ode to Joy”. The sound is so rich, it completely brought me out of my reverie. I then started to focus on the controlled pull in the music before the big sound really comes. The fusion of Simon Rattle’s and Beethoven’s dramatic flairs really pay dividends here as you are moved from lush but controlled sound to the big brass and voice introduction to “Ode to Joy”.
Sir Simon Rattle
So I was taken by surprise in this particular recording. Some apparently think that Mr. Rattle doesn’t have the Teutonic sensibility needed for Beethoven. They suggest that British sensibilities are out of touch with the warmth and ardor of this Germanic masterpiece. I’m not going to argue the point; I’ll simply say this recording is beautifully executed, conveys emotional impact, and lays the emphasis in all the right places. Does it hold back more than some? Probably. Is it mechanical? Not even close.
From its famous opening to the chorus singing “Ode to Joy”, Mr. Rattle, along with the Vienna Philharmonic, draws us into a soundscape describing hope, fear, love, loss, and, yes, joy. With light deft touches, layered lush strings and brass clarion calls to join in, we’re brought on a wonderful musical journey. The chorus and singers perform their craft admirably.
Here’s a little taste of Mr. Rattle performing the same piece with the Berlin Philharmonic:
I’m delighted to have this recording join my collection. It stands up nicely with Herbert Von Karajan’s recording with the Berlin Philharmonic, albeit from a different era. Here it becomes a matter of taste. While I love von Karajan (the one I’m referencing is the ’84 DG “digital gold” recording which I like due to the great sound engineering, although the ’63 is cherished as well), there are times it seems a bit heavy handed. There are times Mr. Rattle seems a bit understated. Maybe I lack the Teutonic passion and musical wisdom of some, but both are great. Simon Rattle’s version stands tall and, at moments, takes your breath away.
I’ve been living with Anne Akiko Meyers‘ Serenade album for a bit over a month now (I received it the day it released, September 18th). I usually post a little quicker, but there is so much packed into this album, I took a bit longer (plus, I was wicked busy with book reviews). This album incorporates four elements I love – philosophy, books, music, and movies. The main set piece for the album is Leonard Bernstein’s Serenade which is inspired by Plato’s Symposium; If you’re interested in it, recommend reading Percy Shelley’s translation; normally I would pick something more contemporary but for this, only a poet will do. Just to help you dust off your memory of ancient Greek Philosophy, the Symposium essentially incorporates the equivalent of after-dinner (and while drinking) speeches on the nature of love. These speeches were carried out by a number of characters, including Socrates. Aristophanes, the comic playwright, had one of the more impressive speeches. While I think C. S. Lewis’s Four Loves provides more helpful reflections on the nature of love, the Symposium is a great exposition of Platonic love. All of that being said, Mr. Bernstein indicated that these were inspirations and this symphony shouldn’t be taken as a musical translation of the ideas. For more on the philosophical aspects of the piece, please see Philosophy Talk’s Episode In Praise of Love.
One of many aspects of Ms. Meyer’s artistry I love is that she brings to light pieces outside the more standard repertoire. She gives them a peerless dust-off for a new introduction to a contemporary audience. This was the first time I’ve ever heard Serenade and I’m thrilled with the opportunity to hear it.
In the opening, you’ll find as notes slide into one another similar riffs in West Side Story. Some of the more abrupt transitions remind one of Candide and there are even hints of Mass. It’s all Bernstein and it’s all fabulous. Ms. Meyer’s brings out the emotion with precision. She continues her traditional of intimate sound albeit with the soundstage widened a bit. I can think of a number of artists who could play the fast staccato with equal felicity and a number of artists who can evoke the emotion of broader movements, but it’s rare to find someone who can interpret and execute that interpretation on the wide array of soundscapes Ms. Meyers paints. It’s beautifully done.
Ms. Meyers next ploughs into (mostly) love themes from the cinema. The Morricones’ “Love Theme” from Cinema Paradiso is one of my favorites, as is “Gabriel’s Oboe” from The Mission. Both of those are lovely, lilting pieces that pull at our hearts, but not in a cloying way. They contain haunting, piercing beauty that is almost overwhelming. Contrast these with the much broader, lush “Laura” or “Someone to Watch Over Me.” While both types are good, there’s a bit more sentimentality layered on the later.
Michele Colombier’s “Emmanuel” is somewhere between the two. It doesn’t pierce but rather permeates your soul with its melody. Ms. Meyers plays directly on your heart and she’s pulling all of the strings. She then brings the Latin heat of the Tango with Jacob Gade’s “Jalousie”. I felt a bit liked I’ve stumbled onto a 30’s movie set listening to this one. Yet Ms. Meyer’s treats it with the same care, respect and dexterity as any piece by Bach. It all works so well. Matthew Naughtin’s arrangement of “Jalousie” flows admirably into Astor Piazzolla’s “Oblivion” (what, no concertina?)
While there is unity of theme, this album has a variety of styles yet Ms. Meyers make it seem like they belong together. Not because she makes them sound alike but because of the similar musical themes and her excellent, consistent playing. While some may be tempted to dismiss the album as a bit too pop-oriented, it is a treasure trove of beautiful songs that round out Leonard Bernstein’s Serenade.
There is so much to love about Anne Akiko Meyer‘s new album, The American Masters (not to be confused with The American Album). Not only does it begin with one of the most lyrical, rich violin concertos of the 20th century (and one of the most played), Samuel Barber’s Concerto for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 14, it also contains two commissioned works. Sandwiched in the middle is a lush lullaby by John Corigliano commissioned as a gift from Ms. Meyers husband celebrating their daughter Natalie. It ends with Mason BatesViolin Concerto which contains Mr. Bates signature contemporary music that stretches the listener while remaining accessible and often melodic. If nothing else, this album dissuades you from the idea that Classical music is all about old, dead Germans. Don’t get me wrong, I love old dead German music as evidenced by Ms. Meyers’s Air: The Bach Album. However, the more I listen to modern orchestral music, the more important I think it is to be stretched musically (as I outlined here). The album shows the fresh vibrancy of contemporary orchestral music highlighted with Ms. Meyers precise yet expressive playing.
Leonard Slatkin
The album has a brilliant progression starting with Barber’s Concerto. After 9/11, many people probably associate his name with his Adagio for Strings, op.11 since it so well captured the mood of the country and was played so frequently. His Concerto for Violin and Orchestra takes a similar, lyrical approach resulting in sheer beauty. Ms. Meyers has that rare ability to be precise and disciplined in her playing whilst evoking all of the emotion and expression contained in the piece. She does that throughout the album. This approach is brought out further in her collaboration on the album with Leonard Slatkin, in conjunction with the London Symphony Orchestra; they exude disciplined passionate music making.
While you might be tempted to think that Lullaby for Natalie is a fluff piece with no real musical conflict needing resolution, listen carefully to the story as she walks us sonically through each phase of nestling in, settling in and drifting off to sleep. The very simplicity and progression could so easily come off sloppy and dull. Instead, each part of the progression is beautifully portrayed. Sometimes I think we’ve come to associate anything that is pleasant to listen as lacking depth. At least for me, sonic beauty is OK.
Anne Akiko Meyers
Mason Bate’s Violin Concerto presents more of that obvious depth and challenge but it doesn’t leave its audience behind. Take the opening movement, Archaeopteryx. It may have a little of the frenetic energy and jumpiness of an almost-bird-partly-dinosaur but half-way through the movement you sense this sheer gracefulness of gliding. It’s this kind of combination that seems to set Mr. Bates apart from some of his contemporaries – lyrical sections set against quick transitions all with a melodic thread tying it together. This is also where that disciplined expressive nature of Ms. Meyers really shines. Precise, fast-paced transitions with melodic interludes embedded within each movement requires top technical competence while maintaining the expressive nature of the work. Lakebed memories portray that same type of juxtaposition for this mixed bird – it comes to rest but hops around as noise or movement make it uneasy. The Rise of the birds, the final movement, is just flat-out gorgeous. Nature documentarians ought to fall over themselves to use this as soundtrack to birds in flight. It also does a nice job of bringing together the albums overall lush, rich tone with a beginning of quick movement of take-off to the long, sweet sounds of full flight.
John Clare, from KMFA radio, has an nice interview with Ms Meyers: Bach, Dinosaurs, Lullabies, & Perpetual Motion (KMFA)
Of course, all of these words are all inadequate to express the lovely music making contained in the album, go visit here to try it out a bit for yourself.
Happy listening.
First and foremost, this is a story of great music; Corinne Morris’ music making as a cellist is soulful, nuanced and versatile. Her Macedonian Sessions album is a delightful mix that somehow comes together as a cohesive whole. It contains everything from Camille Saint–Saëns to John Williams, Max Bruch to Corinne Morris (yes, she’s a composer as well) and Pyotr Illyich Tchaikovsky to Astor Piazzolla.
Rather than take my word for it, have a listen to Saint-Saëns Allegro Appassionato op 43:
If that’s what’s first and foremost, what else is there to her story? The fact that it almost came to an end over 5 years ago with a debilitating shoulder injury through the repetitive work of a practicing soloist. She is a cautionary tale for fellow musicians to not wait for treatment and an inspirational story of impressive perseverance. Along with her life as a practicing musician and teacher, she is getting the word out to musicians to deal with potential problems up front. Her main point seems to be, like athletes, musicians depend on their bodies for their livelihood, they do the same kinds of activities that lead to repetitive stress injury. They need to do preventative conditioning and injury recovery as would any athlete. So, part of my motivation in this post is to encourage friends and musicians to use conditioning and technique to mitigate the likelihood of problems and early intervention with the help of a sports medicine group to avoid elongated injury, if you’re not doing so already. Another challenge she’s facing is relaunching a career for one who has gone down the road less traveled. Ms. Morris wrote briefly about this in Gramophone. She also did a nice interview with BBC.
But mostly, it’s the music
She seems to bring the same quiet determination that brought her through injury recovery to her music playing – while rich and soulful, it seems have an undercurrent of steel. Don’t get me wrong; get her album because it’s great music, not simply because there’s a great story to it. However, the story is great, because she’s a great musician.
We jump and wave.
We point and hint.
We summarize and inform.
We find a way to solve the puzzle:
How will they know? We find a way to be found.
Piccadilly Circus is all about vying for attention, but it might not be the kind of attention you want
Pictures, covers, design and video are pointers to our content. They summarize our work, hint at our story and whisper out our myth. They support and concentrate focus on the story. They are the body language for a narrative voice.
Gerard Butler points the way
I’ve been struck recently by the importance of covers and design for books. As often happens when attending to something, it brings your attention to similar ideas, somewhat akin to seeing Mini Coopers everywhere after you buy a Mini Cooper. It seems I’m running into, or recognizing more explicitly, the importance of visual signs towards musical, written and other creative content. Now, of course, the music, book, short story or other content is king; it is the main event. However, these signs help bring attention to and summarize that content. I’ve seen this in Molina Visuals‘ focus on “Imagination for Classical Music.” I’ve seen it played out in the design elements of The Hollow Crown’s Richard II and in a picture portraying how we are swept off our feet reading books. There is a long tradition of this focus in SciFi magazine covers. In this post, I intend to reflect on the use of visuals as signs to non-visual content to highlight their importance. Letting people know and drawing them to content is tough in this world saturated with movies, TV, books, music and magazines from a plethora of sources. We have more access to more content than ever before, whenever we want, and wherever we want. A lot of ink is spilled on how to draw folks in with advertising, social media and events. It’s even more critical for independent artists to be aware of how to do this well since they’re responsible for overseeing it all. Visualization is one way to draw attention (or, at least avoid being over looked) and visual design is one way to keep interest.
Now I’m no SEO guru, advertising genius or visual design artist – I’m simply a very left-brained IT guy coming at this as a consumer: reader, movie watcher, music listener and short story fan. I’m sharing what I’ve seen folks do that works to draw me in. The other part of that left-brain thing is that I notice and analyze patterns. So let’s look at this through examples:
Molina Visuals – Their mission is to “create a strong and unified concept for each project based on an in-depth knowledge of the artists and their work. Our collaborators are classical music enthusiasts and have expertise about the music industry.” I came to know their work through Anne Akiko Meyers’s Four Seasons project and that’s the example I’ll use here. Vivaldi’s Le Quattro Stagioni is an oft played piece of classical music that is part of the standard repertoire. It is not only in concert halls, but it is heard in restaurants, hotels and, yes, elevators. How do you make this music project stand out? Well first and foremost, you play it exquisitely while putting your own voicede to it. Say it with me: content is king. Ms. Meyers, does this with aplomb but she does more. She has her whole site revamped with interactive elements done by Molina Visuals that display different seasonal elements to match the seasons in the work. The CD cover and liner match the site. So now we have a cover:
a video:
and website that provide a consistent message of elegance that seems to flow right out of nature, much like her playing appears to be a natural extension of herself, flowing, as it were, from her soul. She has a visual story that is indicative of her play and of the concept of the album. She has a visual hook to bring us in for a listen. Her website actively engages us as we scroll through the site we traverse the seasons which provide a snippet of sound and video related to each piece.
Now it’s likely that most independent writers and musicians would find funding this kind of experience a challenge. There is much that you can do on a reduced scale. The salient point is this: don’t give short shrift to design. Get the best cover as practicable. Put thought into it. Think about the font used. How the elements are brought together. Of course, it needs to match your content. An awesome steampunk girl on a novel about WW I-era female pilots won’t do, nor will Comic Sans font.
by Jaynekk @SolarTwinWin – OK so you might change your content in order to include something as cool as this. :)
Find a way to visually express your imagination.
Another great example is to visually present an idea. Here’s a visual representation of being swept off our feet reading by Michael CS Photography:
The Words I Live In by Michael CS Photography
This is a meta-picture, if you will. It tells a story about stories. It is arresting and will not be overlooked. So even if it doesn’t directly relate to the explicit narrative, if story telling is a theme in your work, it a viable reinforcing element.
Science Fiction magazines have a long and illustrious history of using visual elements to both invite and hint at what is inside the covers. These often include art as well as short stories. The covers have been interesting since the inception of the genre. Examples can be found from pulp magazine early days such as the 1920s era of Amazing Stories; people are so enamored of the earlier covers that they still vote for their favorites:
Then there’s the more modern magazine such as Bastion Science Fiction which recently produced its inaugural issue. The May issue has an arresting cover with the innocence of a girl on swing (and so we expect a verdant, bucolic background) juxtaposed to a mars-like red planet and dangling precariously from a cliff. Not only does this draw our attention, but the warm tones are reminiscent of the warming days of Spring while the sans serif font points to a modern world with 10 in Bast10n hinting at technology. All of the design elements go into telling the story of Bastion and inviting us into their content of top notch short stories such as Gary Emmette Chandler’s dystopian tale The Endless Flickering Night, where children are juxtaposed to a life digging underground after a wasting war above ground (about which more in an upcoming review).
We even see visual elements within a visual production. While Shakespeare plays are all about the words, that is his gift after all, visual elements help emphasize the message. An excellent example of this is The Hollow Crown’s Richard II.
Richard II “Persecuted”
Mr. Winshaw portrays Richard II as a king in denial, who is “deeply spiritual” and untouched by the world and yet using worldly powers for his own desires. He sees himself as an almost martyr; persecuted by Bollingbroke and the other nobles who take the royal crown from the rightful bearer. Indeed, it is in his loss that he waxes his most poetic.
Before I have shook off the regal thoughts Wherewith I reign’d? I hardly yet have learn’d To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my limbs: Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me To this submission. Yet I well remember The favours of these men: were they not mine? Did they not sometime cry, ‘all hail!’ to me? So Judas did to Christ: but he, in twelve, Found truth in all but one: I, in twelve thousand, none. God save the king! Will no man say amen? Am I both priest and clerk? well then, amen. God save the king! although I be not he; And yet, amen, if heaven do think him me.
Shakespeare, William (2011-09-07). The Complete Works of Shakespeare (Kindle Locations 67176-67186). Latus ePublishing. Kindle Edition.
We see this (I might add, clearly false and self-serving) identification with Jesus’s betrayal in his movement and his stance:
The physicality of theater, of movement and voice, gesture and tone bring about the vision for a character along with the words. So besides being sign posts to work, visual elements play a role in emphasizing meaning in a work.
A final example is the use of fonts and layout. Fonts should be indicative of the work. One of the things I love about the English Standard Version Study Bible is its layout and its fonts. They make no bones about the production and indicate quite clearly
Type Size:
Text: 9pt Lexicon; Notes: 7.25 Frutiger
Page Layout
Single Column
Additional Features
Sewn Binding
It represents careful design and order to emulate the God, whose image they bear, in their vocation of producing bibles. The scripture content is no different than any other ESV bible, but it is a joy to read (alas the crispness of the font loses something on this page, go here for better representation):
So, we need to care for cover and font, web site and video. While it’s not the case that if you build out the visuals, they will come, it won’t hurt and it does help. If you are publishing on Kindle, use Kindle Format 8 (KF8) and the latest version of KindleGen and take care of the details like using a publishers font if you have something perfect (otherwise the readers can choose), “real” page numbers and X-Ray. Use great covers and book trailers:
We have many visual weapons in our arsenals to highlight our work, to provide visual support and to enhance the experience of our content. Woo me. Draw me in. Help me to know about you. I have a lot of content available to me and relatively little time. Make me want yours. Of course, the main way I’m going to want your content is that I know you from other work and like it, someone I respect likes your work (telling me via reviews or word of mouth) or something stands out to raise my curiosity. On the flip side, avoid driving me away with a slapped on photo and cheesy bold yellow gothic font (unless you’re going for campy). Inexpensive doesn’t have to mean terrible. Use stills and background classical music (copyright free) to make your book trailer ala Timebound. There’s a thousand ideas from folks much smarting than me about ways to go about it. The main point is to go about it, to take design and visuals into consideration when making your content available. Avoid simply defaulting to out of the box. Don’t ignore possible ways to bring attention and focus. By doing so, you’ll also bring attention to other creative folks (because, of course, you’re going to cite, get permission and, in all other ways, support your fellow artist.)
There are a number of orchestras and artists that are working hard to help us open our horizons beyond the standard repertoire of Bach, Beethoven & Brahms or Mahler, Mendelssohn & Mozart. OK, no one limits there, but you get the idea. We’ll do Handel & Haydn but more rarely Bartok and Buxtehude, let alone Higdon and Humperdinck. Now, it’s been a fairly long tradition to place lesser known or contemporary pieces next to more standard repertoire in orchestral performances. Recently, more has been done to do so in recorded works; artists like Hillary Hahn placing Higdon next to Tchaikovsky or Anne Akiko Meyer’s inclusion of Arvo Pärt’s Passacaglia in her The Four Seasons: The Vivaldi Album have allowed a larger audience to hear works to which we might not naturally be drawn.
Astor Piazzolla
The Detroit Symphony Orchestra is another great example; not only do they include great contemporary and other lesser known works, they make available via free live webcast. So we hear Anne Akiko Meyers play Mason Bates, Hillary Hahn play Higdon and the DSO play Piazzolla’s Sinfonia de Buenos Aires (with concertina!)
Concertina in action with the DSO
There have certainly been those who focus on contemporary orchestral music such as the Kronos Quartet, but to have Hillary Hahn come out with her In 27 Pieces: the Hilary Hahn Encores with contemporary pieces really encourages a wider audience to pay attention. I confess that I’ve been underwhelmed in the past with much of contemporary orchestral music, but opening up to beautiful music like The Beatitudes has placed that behind me.
Kronos Quartet – The Beatitudes [Music of Vladimir Martynov]
There are some pieces I will never love and I will probably always prefer Bach & Mozart, but I now hear and know how much I’ve missed. So while I’ll never be a Philip Glass fan, I can still appreciate his String Quartet No. 5.
Listen to a little Somei Satoh or Manuel de Falla, Toru Takemitsu or Michael Tippett, Michio Miyagi or even Philip Glass and hear the world you’re missing.
Anne Akiko Meyers does it once again; she takes well known works and breathes new life into them. One such work is Antonio Vivaldi’s Le Quattro Stagioni (The Four Seasons). This is not only part of the main repertoire of many chamber orchestras but parts of it have been heard in movies, soundtracks and outdoor cafés. It begs the question, why another recording? I can think of three reasons – it’s a lovely piece and deserves to be recorded repeatedly and Ms. Meyers, along with David Lockington and the English Chamber Orchestra bring a unique realization to the piece and, finally, in this recording, there is this tone that comes out, from time to time, that is lyrical, haunting and sends an exquisite thrill through you. That is to say, magic occurs.
As a way to illustrate my point, let’s step back and look at a couple of other recordings. A number of years ago, OK many years ago, I was pretty hip on the period music movement. Oh to hear the music played like it was intended! No nasty modern sounds to get in the way. Authentic music! So I was a pretty big fan of Trevor Pinnock and his work with the English Concert, the Boston Camerata and Christopher Hogwood and the Academy of Ancient Music. In many ways, I still am. I am not, however, a period music snob – pianos sound lovely. This period of my life, however, led me to Simon Standage and the English Concert who, under Trevor Pinnock, put out a period-instrument recording of the Four Seasons in the early 80s. This was the only Four Seasons I knew intimately for years. It is well-done, precise and, it seems to me now, a bit cold. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not getting rid of this any time soon; it’s still a great recording, but it no longer represents “The” recording of the Four Seasons.
Fast forward many years later, Joshua Bell, with the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields, record the Four Seasons in 2008. In many ways, this is a much more traditional recording. It is, in comparison, warm and open, almost lush. Whereas, one sensed slashing bows and flying fingers in Pinnock’s (et al) version, Bell’s suggests fluid arms and rounded movements. It’s a lovely recording, very well played and a great addition to the body of work around the Four Seasons.
So, with Mr. Bell’s recent recording in his equally recent role as director of St. Martins in the Fields, did Ms. Meyers et al, want a little violin smack down match? I think not. Both are clearly great musicians who are able to coax out a lovely intimate sound from wood and string. It’s clear from this recording that a desire to take on this piece was the driving force for the album. Ms. Meyers and the ECO seem to combine precise, rich playing with movements of magic. For me, at least, her playing provides almost painfully beautiful moments. It is this tone, this exquisite thrill, this sense of being shot through with a piercing sound that sets off this version for me. Some places it seems to be most haunting are in the first Spring movement (Allegro) after the initial introduction to Spring (30 second mark) and on; the first Summer movement (Allegro non molto) about 1:54 in the violin begins this playful banter that jumps and runs a couple minutes later but in these more lyrical moments between the runs, it’s amazing. Let the languid summer live.
Arvo Pärt
Of course, this album is more that the Four Seasons. It contains Arvo Pärt’s Passacaglia; a driven piece that mixes well with Vivaldi for a contemporary orchestral work. I love how it ends promising a Spanish guitar concert just around the corner.
Finally, we have Vivaldi’s Concerto for Three Violin. What, you say? A couple of Strads being played by Ms. Meyers on the Bach album was nothing! How about a Guarneri, a couple of Strads and her hand tied behind her back whilst playing Vivaldi! OK, I exaggerate and, nicely enough, this isn’t just some technical exercise showing off some seriously cool violins. This is real music making; playing multiple parts is seamless to the listening ear and a very nice piece in its own right.
The album mesmerizes as Ms. Meyers is at the top of her craft. Brava. One fabulous part of this project is the realization that visualization is important to music. We love youtube, we love to be engaged visually whilst enraptured with music. Joseph Molina has done a great job with Ms. Meyers to see this lived out in this project, especially in her updated site. More about this is available at Molina Visuals. UPDATE: Molina has some examples from the project: Joseph Molina Portfolio
Once again the Detroit Symphony Orchestra comes through with the fabulous live performances. Today’s live webcast was such a treat. It really makes you appreciate the great work Leonard Slatkin and the DSO do. They opened the concert with Beethoven’s Overture to The Consecration of the House. Clearly, the DSO’s discipline comes to the fore in the clear, clean lines of their music making. This was a very nice musical appetizer. Next came Hilary Hahn’s mesmerizing performance of Carl Nielsen’s Violin Concerto (to borrow Jeppe Morgenthaler’s phrase). While those of you who have experienced some of Nielsen’s later pieces may find some of his music challenging, this Concerto is a beautifully haunting and lyrical piece with a clear melodic undertone throughout. We know whenever Ms. Hahn plays we’re in for excellent technical playing; that’s a given (and she does not disappoint on that score here). It is, however, her emotional connection with the music that grabs us; it was almost palpable during this concert. Nicely enough, her playing was mirrored physically: you could see her concentrated, furrowed brow in the first movement, the almost playful, smiling performance within the second and the subtle and understated message of the third. It was stunning. Yet another piece that’s not heard a lot on which the DSO sheds some musical light.
Leonard Slatkin and the DSO
Now, you know those times when you want to hear big symphonic sound. You have this lovely symphony orchestra and while it’s nice to provide backing of a terrific Concerto, it sometimes seems almost like a larger scale chamber orchestra. It’s great music, but you’re yearning for that large sound stage. It’s a little like (and a lot more palatable than) Madeleine Albright’s comment to General Colin Powell: “What’s the point of having this superb military that you’re always talking about if we can’t use it? ” If you have this great orchestra, such as the Detroit Symphony, led well by Leonard Slatkin, and a great venue such as Orchestra Hall, go ahead and bring the big sound. They do. Listening to the opening movement of Schubert’s “The Great” Symphony, Nbr. 9, is simply a joy. You let the sound wash over you. Yes there are more intimate moments in the piece, and they’re fabulous, but just allowing the big movements to course through you is so wonderful and revitalizing.
Franz Schubert
I commend the DSO for making itself “the most accessible orchestra in the world”, partly through these live broadcasts as well as highlighting some less often played music, such Mason Bates’ Violin Concerto played by lovely Anne Akiko Meyers earlier in the season as well as older but less famous works like Nielsen’s this week. Not only are they a world-class orchestra but they’re an educating orchestra as well. To see Hillary Hahn in working mode: A great display of the DSO’s controlled lyrical playing under Leonard Slatkin:
I was at my desk; somehow I was directed to her website and the landing page had it playing. I don’t think I breathed for a couple minutes. I was stunned at how this music instantly connected with me and drew me in. Even through the web, the sound quality was amazing (with some help from my wonderful Grado SR60i headphones -love my Grados); I heard it as if I was in the center of the room where she was playing, conveniently enough, with the English Chamber Orchestra.
Grado SR60s
Now, don’t get me wrong, it was Bach and the playing that drew me in; content and performance are king. However, it was the quality and intimacy of the recording that stunned me. Yet that quality of closeness was something I wanted to share, so I grabbed my boss and a few co-workers throughout the afternoon to have them listen. Musical intimacy is an intimacy to be shared :)
I would love to be one of those people who can look past the production of an album to hear its inner greatness. I see recommendations all of the time for some historic record of Heifetz or that Wilhelm Furtwangler’s recording of Beethoven’s 5th Symphony with the Vienna Philharmonic is the cat’s meow. I then listen to a sample and it seems to be distant and murky. It may be fabulous but I cannot get past the recording. I can do this with movies (somewhat) but not as easily with music.
I think, however, the sense of intimacy some artists engender is more than great sound engineers (as important as they are). There are some artists who seem to consistently draw you in and make you part of the moment. I can easily think of a few: Anne Akiko Meyers, Diana Krall, Joshua Bell and Melody Gardot. Different genres but same sense of closeness.
I’ve spent hours mesmerized by Joshua Bell’s, along with Michael Tilson Thomas and the Berliner Philharmonker, rendition of Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D major. Blair Sanderson says it well: “This album offers exceptionally realistic depth and almost palpable presence.” It is that palpable presence these artist provide. They are in the room with you.
So what ever combination of artist, sound studio, mikes and production it takes to pass on that palpable presence, thank you. It is musical magic. I’m sure you’ve had your magical moments when the music was intimately inside you. Don’t we all long for those moments and to share them.