Shenson Spotlight Disappoints Again

Violinist Njioma Grevious (photograph by Jiyang Chen, courtesy of the San Francisco Symphony)

Apparently, Nathan Amaral’s violin recital this past April was the only satisfying performance in the Shenson Spotlight Series this season, presented by the San Francisco Symphony in Davies Symphony Hall. Readers may recall that the significant adjective that I applied to the January and February performances was “dim.” Most of last night’s violin recital by Njioma Grevious settled back into that same spirit, but at least there was one moment when things picked up a bit. This was “Levee Dance,” the second in a set of short character pieces collected by Clarence Cameron White for his Opus 27. It would not surprise me to learn that she came to know this music through the recording Jascha Heifetz made for RCA Victor, since that is the only source I know for the composition!

The program was structured around three “classical pillars.” It began with the Grave movement from Johann Sebastian Bach’s BWV 1003 sonata for unaccompanied violin in A minor and concluded with Sergei Prokofiev’s Opus 94a violin sonata in D major, originally composed for flute. The “middle pillar” was Johannes Brahms, with the Scherzo movement he contributed to the “F-A-E Sonata.” Sadly, none of these made a lasting impression, as was the case with the most recent work on the program, “Within the drifting contours of the land…,” composed by Electra Perivolaris explicitly for Grevious.

Ultimately, the only really satisfying offering came in the middle of the program. This was the “Theme and Variations” that Olivier Messiaen composed in 1932. He wrote this for the violinist Claire Delbos around the time that he married her! Grevious knew exactly how the deliver the theme in such a way that an attentive listener could appreciate its transformation into the following five variations. That attentiveness surfaced only one more time, which was in the Scherzo movement of the Prokofiev sonata.

Grevious’ accompanist at the piano was Andrew Goodridge, making his first appearance in Davies Symphony Hall. He is on the faculty of the New England Conservatory Preparatory School. If he enjoyed his trip to San Francisco, it might be nice to see more of him in more conducive circumstances.

Ian Scarfe to Livestream Recital from Living Room

Those that follow this site regularly know that this has been a relatively busy month for Ian Scarfe. It should therefore be no surprise that his final performance this month will be livestreamed from his living room! The title of the program will be Canticle of Saint Francis: Piano Music inspired by the Natural World, and the repertoire will take the audience from morning to night. However, it will be almost the same one that he prepared for the recital that he will be giving at the Century Club on September 21, entitled Harmonies, Sonorities, and Birdsong! The “revised version will be as follows:

Peter Nicolai Arbo’s illustration of Peer Gynt for Peter Christen Asbjørnsen's book Norske Folke og Huldre-Eventyr (from Wikimedia Commons, public domain)

The program will open with Edvard Grieg’s keyboard version of the “Morning,” originally composed as music for a performance of Henrik Ibsen’s play Peer Gynt. This will be followed by selected nocturnes by Frédéric Chopin and the nocturne in G-flat major composed by Ottorino Respighi. The next selection will be Franz Liszt’s S. 175/1, “St. Francis of Assisi's sermon to the birds,” the first of the two pieces in his Deux Légendes collection. The second half of the program will begin with one of the movements from Olivier Messiaen’s Vingt Regards sur l’Enfant-Jésus, the “Regard de la Vierge,” which reflects on Mary’s experience of the Annunciation. There will then be a final avian appearance in Amy Beach’s Opus 92, “A Hermit Thrush at Eve.”

This performance will take place online through Zoom. It will begin at 6 p.m. on Tuesday, September 23. Registration will be required for those wishing to attend. Zoom has created the registration Web page for this event. Donations will be welcome at the suggested amount of $20. For those that prefer to attend a “physical” performance, one will take place in the Mission at the Mission Dolores Basilica at 4 p.m. on Sunday, October 12. The Basilica is located at 3321 16th Street.

Lisiecki’s Quantity Doesn’t Rise Up to Quality

Jan Lisiecki at the piano (photograph by Christoph Köstlin, courtesy of SFP)

Last night Canadian pianist Jan Lisiecki returned to Herbst Theatre to present his third solo piano recital for San Francisco Performances (SFP). He began his first recital with the first four of the eight preludes that Olivier Messiaen composed in 1928. For his return, he prepared a program consisting entirely of preludes.

The second half of the program was devoted entirely to Frédéric Chopin’s Opus 28 set of preludes in all major and minor keys. The first half also included its own fair share of other Chopin preludes, as well as three by Sergei Rachmaninoff, two from his Opus 23 collection and the other the notorious Opus 45 in C-sharp minor. Johann Sebastian Bach was represented only by the first two of his Well-Tempered Clavier preludes, BWV 846 in C major and BWV 847 in C minor. Lisiecki also returned to Messiaen, this time with only the first three of the preludes he had previously performed. The other composers included on the program were Karol Szymanowski (his three Opus 1 preludes) and Henryk Górecki (the first and last of his four Opus 1 preludes, both of which reminded me of Peter Schickele’s quip about holding a black belt in music).

While Lisiecki seems to have mastered a solid command to account for the overall plethora of notes in this program, he fell painfully short of bringing any expressiveness to his interpretations. Indeed, I was reminded of what I wrote about his emphasis on technical display in his debut, which I described as “often hammered out with an intensity that bordered on brutality.” There is no question that this was an impressive technical display, but I would hesitate to call it musicianship.

As a result, I was not particularly disappointed when the title of the encore selection announcement was muttered beyond recognition!

Lisiecki to Return to San Francisco Performances

Canadian pianist Jan Lisiecki (from his SFP event page)

San Francisco Performances presented the debut of Canadian pianist Jan Lisiecki in December of 2013, when he was the featured artist in that season’s Young Master’s Series. He began that program with the first four of the eight preludes that Olivier Messiaen composed in 1928. Later this month, he will return to Herbst Theatre with a program consisting entirely of preludes.

Once again, Messiaen will be included in the program. However, Lisiecki will also perform the complete cycle of preludes composed by Frédéric Chopin for his Opus 28. The other contributors to the program will be Johann Sebastian Bach (of course), Sergei Rachmaninoff, Henryk Górecki, and Karol Szymanowski. This promises to be an engaging journey in which familiarity with rub shoulders with discovery!

This program will begin at 7:30 p.m. on Thursday, March 20. Ticket prices are $85 (premium Orchestra and front and center Dress Circle), $75 (remainder of Orchestra, all Side Boxes, and center rear Dress Circle), and $65 (remaining Dress Circle and Balcony). As always, they may be purchased through an SFP secure Web page. The venue will be Herbst Theatre, whose entrance is the main entrance to the Veterans Building at 401 Van Ness Avenue, located on the southwest corner of McAllister Street. The venue is excellent for public transportation, since that corner has Muni bus stops for both north-south and east-west travel.

Yuja Wang Disappoints on Latest Visit

Pianist Yuja Wang (photograph by Kirk Edwards, San Francisco Symphony)

Last night pianist Yuja Wang returned to Davies Symphony Hall for her latest Great Performers Series recital. She made her last Great Performers appearance about two months more than a year earlier when she was joined by the entire San Francisco Symphony conducted by Music Director Esa-Pekka Salonen for a performance of Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Opus 30 (third) piano concerto in D minor. She took only two encores: Franz Liszt’s adaptation of Franz Schubert’s D. 118 “Gretchen am Spinnrade” song with text taken from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s Faust and Giovanni Sgambati’s “Melody from ‘Orfeo ed Euridice’,” his transcription of the “Dance of the Blessed Spirits” from the opera by Christoph Willibald Gluck.

Last night it seemed as if she was more interested in the encores that on the works included in the program she had prepared. By my count there were seven of them, played out one-by-one with no hint of any verbal introduction. I must confess that the first four were entirely unknown to me, although it was not difficult to recognize that the third was a tango. She then moved onto the turf of three identifiable transcriptions.

The first of these was the second (Allegro molto) movement from Dmitri Shostakovich’s eighth (Opus 110) string quartet in C minor, offering some of the composer’s fieriest rhetoric. This was followed by a “return visit” to the Schubert-Liszt “Gretchen.” The encores concluded with the Allegro molto vivace march in the third movement of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Opus 74 (sixth) symphony, best known as the “Pathétique.”

If I have chosen to begin with these three encores, it is because they were the most engaging portion of the evening. The least engaging was the second half of the program itself, covering all four of Frédéric Chopin’s “Ballade” compositions: Opus 23 in G minor, Opus 38 in F major, Opus 47 in A-flat major, and Opus 52 in F minor. This was probably my first encounter with Wang playing Chopin (and, for all I know, it was hers as well). She was clearly not in her comfort zone; and, if she managed to make sure that all the notes were in the right place, there was little sense that any of those notes had any rhetorical significance.

The first half of the program was an odd “reverse chronology” of three twentieth-century selections. The earliest of these was Claude Debussy’s “L’isle joyeuse,” delivered with all of its rapid-fire finger-busting accuracy and none of its erotic rhetoric. This was preceded by Alexander Scriabin’s Opus 66 (eighth) piano sonata. This was the third of the six last sonatas composed without key signatures; and, by this time (1912) Scriabin had clearly found his own “atonal voice.” Wang’s delivery was as true to the marks on paper as one could expect, making this the most satisfying account of the evening.

Less satisfying was her opening gambit, extracting two of the movements from Olivier Messiaen’s Vingt Regards sur l’Enfant-Jésus (twenty contemplations on the Infant Jesus). I have taken great pleasure in this cycle for quite some time and was fortunate enough to hear a full matinee performance, which began on a sunny afternoon and concluded with the sun setting through the large glass window behind the audience area. I happen to believe that this composition works only as a cycle. Extracting a movement tears it away from the overall context. Wang selected the fifteenth and the tenth movement, playing them in that reverse order.

I have two hypotheses as to why she was doing what she did. The more positive is that she is preparing herself to take on the full cycle. Her strategy may have been to deal with some of the most challenging movements first before allowing them to take their places in the overall flow of the cycle. The more negative is that she just wanted to play the movements with the heaviest flows of notes! In either case, I feel that last night’s approach did not situate Messiaen in a particularly good light; but, since this music is performed so seldom, I doubt that many in her audience were aware of just what that light was.

To be fair, I feel that Wang deserves credit for rising to imposing challenges; but, taken as a whole, last night’s performance lacked the spirit that I had come to know so well from my previous encounters with her recitals.

Simon Rattle in Berlin: 20th Century France

The account by Simon Rattle and the Berlin Philharmonic of twentieth-century music by French composers is decidedly shorter than the collections for Gustav Mahler and the “Schoenberg-Stravinsky axis.” There are, of course, the “usual expected suspects,” Claude Debussy and Maurice Ravel, each represented by the entirety of a single CD. Only one other CD remains, which consists of a single composition by Olivier Messiaen.

The Debussy CD begins with two of his own “usual suspects.” The first of these is the “Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune” with the flute solo taken by Emmanuel Pahud; and it is followed by his La mer (the sea), which the composer described as “three symphonic sketches.” The remainder of the CD is devoted to orchestral versions of piano music. The first of these is the score for the ballet “La boîte à joujoux” (the toy-box), whose piano score was orchestrated by André Caplet. The remaining three tracks presented three of the piano preludes in orchestrations by Colin Matthews. I must confess that I was particularly drawn to “La boîte à joujoux,” simply because I was so unfamiliar with it; and it did not take long for listening to emerge as a what-have-I-been-missing event.

Marie-Therese Gauley in her costume for the title role of “L'enfant et les sortilèges” (photograph by Henri Manuel, public domain in France, from Wikimedia Commons)

The Ravel disc begins with the complete performance of the one-act opera “L'enfant et les sortilèges” (the child and the spells), setting a libretto written by Colette. The whole affair is shamelessly silly, which is probably why I find it irresistible! Since this was a studio recording, multiple roles were taken by all but one of the vocalists. As readers might guess, that “one” was mezzo Magdalena Kožená (Lady Rattle), singing the title role! I have had many encounters with this music; and it always leaves me with a smile (along with a few belly-laughs as the plot unfolds). Rattle’s account definitely allowed the music to stand up on its own without staging. It was then followed by the orchestral version of the Ma mère l'Oye suite, which had originated as a piano duet performed by six-year-old Mimi Godebski and her seven-year-old brother Jean. Having performed that four-hand version with one of my neighbors, I am a sucker for any opportunity to revisit the music!

The Messiaen selection is one of his massive undertakings inspired by the New Testament. The Wikipedia page for “Éclairs sur l’Au-Delà…” translated the title as “lightning over the beyond.” However an entire paragraph is devoted to explaining both the denotations and connotations of the title. This is one of those compositions inspired by the New Testament Book of Revelation, which may well be the deepest dive into imaginary rhetoric to be found in any sacred writings.

I must confess that, when I listen to Messiaen, I rarely commit myself to teasing out all of those denotations and connotations in either the music or the text that inspired that music. I am content to “go along for the ride,” and I am seldom disappointed. Rattle’s recording (which was also included in the Warner Messiaen anthology) was a teasing reminder that I should take that ride more often.

Did Messiaen know about Charles Schultz?

Check out the Sunday Comics section of today's Chronicle for Olivier Messiaen's favorite Peanuts cartoon!

Hanna Hurwitz’ New Trio Album … of Sorts

Cover of the booklet for the album being discussed (courtesy of Neuma Records)

One week from today Neuma Records will release The Night Shall Break, an album of five seldom-performed chamber music compositions, all of which deserve more attention. This is a trio album of sorts led by violinist Hanna Hurwitz, who performs with Daniel Pesca on piano and cellist Colin Stokes. As is often the case, Amazon.com has already created a Web page for processing pre-orders.

All three of the musicians play together on only one selection, a three-movement piano trio by Rebecca Clarke. Ironically, in spite of that “deserve more attention” epithet, I am no stranger to this trio, having written about recordings of it by both the Neave Trio and the Trio des Alpes, the latter going back to when I was writing for Examiner.com. According to my records, I was fortunate enough to listen to this work in performance by the Ives Collective, when they gave an Old First Concerts recital in May of 2022. Nevertheless, in spite of all that experience, I seem to need consistent reminders of just how engaging this trio is! Hurwitz and her colleagues have definitely reinforced those reminders.

The other four selections on the album are all duo performances. Stokes makes only one other appearance, performing the first of two duos composed for violin and cello in 1927 by Bohuslav Martinů. This is a two-movement composition with an Andante moderato prelude a little over four minutes in length followed by an Allegro con brio rondo that is about nine minutes long. Martinů may receive more attention than Clarke. However, this took place primarily during the late twentieth century after he had settled in New York. Since the beginning of this current century, he seems to have dropped out of favor, which, given his imaginative inventiveness, is a pity. This particular duo may be on the modest side, but there is much to be gained from attentive listening.

The remaining selections are duos performed by Hurwitz and Pesca. In “order of appearance” these are the first of two “fantasy” pieces, composed in 1929 in the key of G minor by Florence Price, a four-movement sonatina (all movements lasting less than two minutes) by Carlos Chávez, and the “Thème et variations” composed by Olivier Messiaen in 1932. The last of these is the most developed of the compositions; and, as its Wikipedia page observes, it is one of the composer’s most accessible works. I would even go as far as to say that it may be the most playful work than Messiaen ever wrote (or at least published)! There is also more than a bit of playfulness in the “short and sweet” movements of the Chávez sonatina.

Where my own listening experiences are concerned, the Price selection is in the same category as the Clarke trio. It was given a throughly engaging account (along with two other Price compositions, all of which seem to have been world premiere tracks) on violinist Randall Goosby’s debut Roots album. Nevertheless, I wrote about that performance in June of 2021; and, sadly, it has slipped from memory since then. Hurwitz’ reminder of this composition was definitely welcome!

SFCMP Performs in Grace Cathedral

Last night in Grace Cathedral the San Francisco Contemporary Music Players (SFCMP) began their 53rd concert season with a program presented in collaboration with this month’s California Festival: A Celebration of New Music. The selections included the Bay Area premiere of Raven Chacon’s “Voiceless Mass,” an instrumental composition given an impressive spatial performance. The instrumentation included a pipe organ, which was played by the Grace organist Christopher Keady.

As those familiar with church organ music may guess, Keady also began the program with music by Olivier Messiaen, the “Apparition de l'église éternelle” (apparition of the eternal church), which was his first composition for organ after his appointment as organist at the Sainte-Trinité church in Paris in 1931. (Messiaen would hold that post for 61 years.) The program also included “Luminous Spirals,” a trio for flute, guitar, and cello by Chinary Ung; and the second half of the program was devoted entirely to George Crumb’s song cycle, Ancient Voices of Children.

The Grace organ is a decidedly impressive instrument with pipes at both the altar and the very rear of the cathedral. It was definitely suitable for the wide spectrum of sonorities that one associates with Messiaen. However, it also assumed its role as a member of the chamber ensemble required for “Voiceless Mass.” The other performers were Jessie Nucho (flute), Peter Josheff (clarinet), Roman Fukshansky (bass clarinet), William Winant (Percussion I, making his final appearance with SFCMP), Divesh Karamchandani (Percussion II), Kevin Rogers (first violin), Susan Freier (second violin), Christina Simpson (viola), Stephen Harrison (cello), Richard Worn (bass), and Forrest Balman (sine tone synthesizer).

What made this ensemble interesting was that it was distributed around the Grace space. This made “Voiceless Mass” as engaging for its spatial qualities as the Messiaen selection was with the spread of the organ pipes. I have to confess, however, that, while Chacon’s music drew my attention from beginning to end, I could not always keep up with the unfolding of the instrumental passages and how that unfolding emerged through spatial separation. As is often the case with premiere performances, my reaction at the conclusion was that I needed to listen to the music again. Sadly, there is no opportunity for such a return visit in the near future.

For that matter, I would certainly appreciate a second encounter with “Luminous Spirals.” Nucho and Harrison again gave clear accounts of their parts in the trio, joined this time by David Tanenbaum on guitar. What I found interesting were the notes in the program book that each of those parts could be played by an Asian instrument. In other words Ung’s evocation of unfolding spirals seems to have transcended the sonorities themselves. All that mattered was that each instrument had its own unique repertoire of sonorities; and the “spiraling” involved the interplay of those distinctive sonorities.

As far as the second half of the program is concerned, my feelings about Crumb have been on-and-off, dating back to his hermit-like existence on the campus of the University of Pennsylvania when I was teaching computer science there back in the Seventies. The score was for another stripped-down chamber ensemble. However, this time there were three percussionists, with Jonathan Latta joining Winant and Karamchandani; and the other instruments were oboe (Kyle Bruckmann), mandolin (Tanenbaum again), harp (Jennifer Ellis), and piano doubling on toy piano (Kate Campbell). The principal vocalist was mezzo Tonia D’Amelio, joined towards the end of the composition by treble Katie Pelletier.

My primary guide in negotiating Crumb’s opacity has been his Makrokosmos piano compositions. These provided me with a foundational understanding of how he worked with motifs and how he could explore sonorities that included the interior of the piano as well as the keyboard. As his Wikipedia page observes, he was utterly shameless in appropriating snatches of music by Johann Sebastian Bach, Frédéric Chopin, Franz Schubert, Richard Strauss, and (believe it or not) Thelonious Monk. In Ancient Voices of Children the appropriation is performed on the toy piano; and the selection is Gottfried Heinrich Stölzel’s “Bist du bei mir” (if you are with me), best known for its appearance in the Notebook for Anna Magdalena Bach. What that has to do with Crumb’s setting of texts by Federico García Lorca for the mezzo vocalist is still beyond the bounds of my own comprehension, but I have to confess that I have yet to encounter a Crumb appropriation that did not make me squirm!

Nevertheless, there was something intriguing in how the unabashed secular rhetoric of Crumb’s text setting managed to fit into Grace’s cavernous space.

MTT: Adventurous Repertoire Disappoints

Last night Music Director Laureate Michael Tilson Thomas (MTT) returned to Davies Symphony Hall to lead the San Francisco Symphony in the third of the four subscription programs he prepared. The program presented two early compositions by Claude Debussy, one of the sixteen Chôros compositions by Heitor Villa-Lobos, and an adventurous cantata by Olivier Messiaen. MTT may have planned his program on a theme of “exploration and discovery;” but, for the most part, the performances of those selections barely registered with attentive listening and tended to fizzle long before the final measures would emerge.

The boldest selection was probably Messiaen’s Trois petites liturgies de la Présence Divine (three short liturgies of the Divine Presence). This involved an impressive diversity of instrumentation, since the string section was joined only by a solo piano (Jean-Yves Thibaudet), a solo ondes Martenot (Cynthia Millar), a celesta, a percussion section consisting of Chinese cymbals, maracas, tam-tam, and vibraphone, and a chorus of sopranos and altos. Most of the percussion instruments were at their usual rear location, but Jacob Nissly’s vibraphone was situated between the piano and the ondes Martenot.

During the intermission, several members of the audience headed to the edge of the stage to get a look at the ondes Martenot, and Millar generously provided them with an introduction to the instrument. That explanatory encounter may have been more engaging than the music itself. Messiaen provided his own text for the chorus. This may have been an intimate confession of his Catholic devotion, but the union of music with the text tended to involve a limited vocabulary of motifs that were repeated too many times. This could easily have been an act of intense religious devotion; but, as a concert experience, the 40-minute composition overstayed its welcome long before the halfway mark.

Following the intermission Thibaudet returned to perform Claude Debussy’s three-movement “Fantaisie,” scored for piano and orchestra. This is a relatively early composition, completed in 1890. This music was never performed during the composer’s lifetime. The first soloist was Alfred Cortot, playing with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra on November 20, 1919. The full score would not be published until 1920. Regrettably, last night’s performance never really registered, perhaps explaining why Debussy himself never felt that the score had been completed to his satisfaction. (He apparently worked on a second version after 1910.) More successful was the more familiar opening to the concert, Debussy’s “Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune,” which was composed in 1894. For all of its brevity, this was the most engaging listening experience of the evening.

A small chocalho (photograph by Qniemiec, from Wikimedia Commons, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license)

The Villa-Lobos selection was “Chôros No. 10,” one of the few to be given a title, “Rasga o coração” (it tears your heart). The Wikipedia page for the Chôros compositions lists the instrumentation as follows: piccolo, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, saxophone, 2 bassoons, contrabassoon, 3 horns, 2 trumpets, 2 trombones, 2 timpani, tam-tam, tambourine, tambor, caxambu (named after a Brazilian river), 2 puítas, surdo, drums, reco-reco (large and small), chocalhos (shakers, see above) de metal e de madeira, piano, harp, strings. Most of the unfamiliar words refer to Brazilian instruments from the percussion family. The performance amounted to about twelve minutes of energetic rhythms and diverse sonorities; but here, again, the execution of the score never seemed to register.

By the end of the evening, one felt the experience of a promising program that never really lived up to its promise.

Advent Liturgy at Church of the Advent

Yesterday evening my wife and I visited the Church of the Advent of Christ the King to attend the Advent Liturgy that, for many, marks the beginning of the celebration of Christmas. Both of us are atheists. Nevertheless, the Director of Music Paul Ellison leads a chamber choir, which plays a significant role in major services; and, before the service began, organist George Anton Emblom performed about twenty minutes of organ music relevant for the occasion. As a result, we often attend services to experience the music, while showing all due respect for the congregation and keeping a low profile.

Engraving of Weimar published by Christoph Riegel showing the church of St Peter and Paul, where Bach may have played his Orgelbüchlein chorale settings during his service to the ducal court (made by Andreas Knorz in 1686, public domain, from Wikimedia Commons)

The service itself was framed by four different musical interpretations of what, in Germany at least, has become the most prominent hymn for the occasion, “Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland” (savior of the nations, come). Two of those interpretations were by Johann Sebastian Bach. BWV 599, the very first entry in the Orgelbüchlein (little organ book), was one of the opening selections; and the service concluded with BWV 661, the arrangement Bach composed for the collection of eighteen chorale preludes, which is often known as the “Leipzig” chorale settings. The other settings were by Bach’s predecessor Dietrich Buxtehude and contemporary composer Gerald Near (born in 1942). Emblom’s opening selection also included “Desseins éternels" (eternal designs), the third of the nine movements of Olivier Messiaen’s La Nativité du Seigneur (the Nativity of the Lord).

The service itself was one of six lessons, each followed by either a carol or a hymn. Those couplings were followed by Thomas Tallis’ setting of the “Magnificat” canticle in the Dorian mode. This made for a generous diversity of music, which could be appreciated without showing any disrespect for the solemnity of the service itself.

Sheku Kanneh-Mason’s “Singing” Cello on Decca

courtesy of Crossover Media

Some readers may recall that, a month ago on this date, there was a bit of a to-do over the visit to Davies Symphony Hall by cellist Sheku Kanneh-Mason. He had appeared as concerto soloist with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, led by conductor Mirga Gražinytė-Tyla; and the concerto selection was Edward Elgar’s Opus 85 in E minor. This was followed by Kanneh-Mason performing an encore that left several of us scratching our heads. Rather than offering a solo, he recruited the four performers on the first two stands in the cello section to join him in a five-voice arrangement of a Bach song. (Note that this was neither a chorale nor an aria. It was one of 33 contributions to the Musicalisches Gesang-Buch [song book] compiled by Georg Christian Schemelli in 1736!)

Bach, of course, wrote more vocal music than most of us can enumerate. I approached one of the orchestra cellists to try to find more specific information, but he could only show me a single sheet of paper with music notation and no text! Had I taken the time to listen to Kanneh-Mason’s latest album, Song, which had been released in late September, I would not have been as mystified. Fortunately, the selection was identified through a local flurry of electronic mail exchanges, which allowed me to update my article with the necessary specifics.

This morning I followed up on my promise to myself to listen to the Song album in its entirety. The album consists of 21 tracks, only three of which involve “classical” offerings performed as they were written, rather than in any arrangement. The more familiar of these is Ludwig van Beethoven’s Opus 66 set of twelve variations on “Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen,” the aria that Papageno sings (providing his own accompaniment) during the second act of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s K. 620 opera The Magic Flute. The second is Felix Mendelssohn’s Op. Posth. 109, a “Song without words” composed for cello and piano. For both of these selections, Kanneh-Mason was accompanied at the piano by his sister Isata. Finally, there is the “Louange à l'Éternité de Jésus” (praise to the eternity of Jesus) movement from Olivier Messiaen’s “Quatuor pour la fin du temps” (quartet for the end of time), scored for only cello and piano. For that track Kanneh-Mason is accompanied by James Baillieu.

There are also two much more recent selections which Kanneh-Mason performs “as written.” One of these is a set of five preludes for solo cello composed by Edmund Finnis; and, on the album, it is followed by “Same Boat,” which Kanneh-Mason composed in collaboration with Zak Abel, who performs a vocal line accompanied by the cello. The remainder of the album consists of an impressive diversity of arrangements, most of which are by Kanneh-Mason himself. These include another Bach selection (arranged this time for four cellos), the BWV 659 “Leipzig” chorale, originally composed for organ: “Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland” (savior of the nations, come). However, at the “other end of the time-line,” we encounter Burt Bacharach’s “I Say a Little Prayer,” given a solo cello arrangement.

Taken as a whole, this is a “something for everybody” album; and it is more than impressive to consider just how imaginative Kanneh-Mason was in programming this recording.

LCCE to Present Program of “Divine” Sounds

The second subscription concert to be presented in the 30th anniversary season of the Left Coast Chamber Ensemble (LCCE) will be performed here in San Francisco in a little over a week’s time. The full title of the program is Sounds Divine: A Transcendent Concert Experience. The program will explore a variety of spiritual experiences involving mysticism and ecstasy. Three of the selections were composed in the twentieth century:

1. Maurice Ravel’s two songs entitled Mélodies hébraïques (Hebrew songs), the first setting a text in Aramaic and the second in Yiddish
2. The five songs in the second book of Olivier Messiaen’s Poèmes pour Mi collection, “Mi” being the nickname of the composer’s first wife Claire Delbos
3. Arvo Pärt’s “Spiegel im Spiegel”

These will alternate with three more recent compositions:

1. “Just a Moment” by Eric Nathan
2. “Shouts” by T.J. Anderson
3. “Dervish” by Errollyn Wallen

The San Francisco performance of this program will take place at 7:30 p.m. on Monday, October 24. The venue will be the  San Francisco Conservatory of Music building at 50 Oak Street, a short walk from the Van Ness Muni station. Tickets are being sold for $35 with a $10 rate for students. A single Web page has been created for purchasing these tickets. The price for general admission tickets on the day of the performance will be $38.

Hans Rosbaud’s Recordings of French Music

Courtesy of Naxos of America

Many readers probably know by now that I am a latecomer to the Hans Rosbaud Edition albums that have been released by SWR Classic, the “house label” of the Southwest German Radio (SWR) Symphony Orchestra based in Baden-Baden. My first encounter with this series took place in September of 2020 with the release of an eight-CD album of performances of the music of Gustav Mahler. This was followed in October of 2021 with the release of two CDs accounting for three of the symphonies of Jean Sibelius (with an additional three tracks of songs).

Tomorrow SWR Classic will release the next installment in the series; and, for those that want to be “first on the block,” Amazon.com has a Web page for processing pre-orders. The new album has four CDs collected under the title French Music. The first CD is devoted entirely to Claude Debussy. The second is shared by Maurice Ravel and Albert Roussel. The third presents a single composition by each of four composers: Jacques Ibert, Darius Milhaud, Maurice Jarre, and Olivier Messiaen. The final CD begins with Arthur Honegger’s third symphony, followed by two compositions by Marcel Mihalovici.

Mihalovici is clearly a “wild card in the deck.” Having known nothing about him, I was impressed by the scope of his Wikipedia page. For one thing, his “opus count” goes up to 114. However, not all of the numbers are consecutive and some of the works are identified as “??,” included in the list “where they are presumed to have been composed” (to quote the Wikipedia page). More appealing (to me at least) is Mihalovici’s interest in Samuel Beckett, which included an opera based on the one-act monologue “Krapp’s Last Tape.”

The first of Rosbaud’s selections is Mihalovici’s Opus 66, which is his second symphony. It was scored for string orchestra and given the title “Sinfonia partita.” As might be guessed, this 1952 composition reflects the neoclassical genre; and, in the spirit of the subtitle, each movement visits either one or two traditional forms. The recording is a premiere performance, which was recorded in January of 1953. There follow two tracks for the Opus 44 toccata scored for piano and orchestra, which was completed in 1940. The pianist is Monique Haas.

The Honegger symphony also has a title: “Symphony Liturgique.” Since it was composed in 1946, it fits chronologically between the two Mihalovici selections. Each of the three movements is a reflection on a Latin liturgical text, although it may take the serious listener several encounters with the music to establish the connection between the themes and the texts.

The other “wild card” is Jarre, who is better known for his film scores than for concert music. Indeed, not long after he recorded his first film score in 1951, he left France and moved to the United States. He became the composer for all of the films made by David Lean, beginning with Lawrence of Arabia in 1962. Ironically (but not surprisingly) Jarre’s Wikipedia page says nothing about any of his concert music. However, in 1956 he composed a collection of twelve pieces grouped under the title Divertimento for Mozart. Rosbaud recorded the eleventh of these, which is a brief (three minutes) concertino for percussion and strings.

The names of the remaining composers will probably be familiar to most readers. However, this may not be the case for the compositions by Roussel and Ibert. Most interesting of these will probably be Ibert’s suite entitled Le Chevalier errant (the knight-errant). This is likely to bring Don Quixote to mind, particularly since the first movement of the suite depicts windmills. However, the “knight of the doleful countenance” is never explicitly identified. Nevertheless, while Ibert’s piece is not as well known as the Richard Strauss Opus 35 tone poem, it is easier to follow the narrative through the four movements, each with a readily-grasped descriptive title.

Sunset Music and Arts: May, 2022

Pianist Eric Tran (from the Sunset Music and Arts event page)

As of this writing, it appears that Sunset Music and Arts will be presenting only one recital during the current month. Nevertheless, it promises to be an interesting one. It will be a solo piano performance by Eric Tran, which will consist almost entirely of transcriptions.

The major work on the program will consist of a single work. This will be Franz Liszt’s transcription for solo piano of Ludwig van Beethoven’s Opus 68 (sixth) symphony in F major, often known as the “Pastoral Symphony.” The first half of the program will begin with three transcriptions of music by Johann Sebastian Bach. Tran will begin with what is probably the best-known transcription prepared by Myra Hess, the tenth movement, “Jesus bleibet meine Freude” (usually translated as “Jesu, joy of man’s desiring”), from the BWV 147 cantata Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben (heart and mouth and deed and life). This will be followed by Tran’s own transcription of the fourth (Sarabande) movement from the BWV 1012 solo cello suite in D major. The final transcription will be by Sergei Rachmaninoff, who provided an elaborate account of the first (Preludio) movement of the BWV 1006 solo violin partita in E major. Tran will then conclude the first half of his program with “Regard de l’Esprit de joie” (contemplation of the joyful Spirit), the tenth of the twenty movements in Olivier Messiaen’s collection Vingt Regards sur l'enfant-Jésus (twenty contemplations on the infant Jesus).

This performance will take place at 5 p.m. on Sunday, May 29, in the Sunset district at the Episcopal Church of the Incarnation, located at 1750 29th Avenue, about halfway between Moraga Street and Noriega Street. Ticket prices are $25 for general admission with a $20 rate for students and seniors. Because the demand tends to be high, advance purchase is highly advised. Tickets may be purchased online through Eventbrite. Further information may be obtained by calling 415-564-2324.

Finally, because we are still under pandemic conditions, all health and safety guidelines provided by the City and County of San Francisco must be honored. That means that a face covering is required for admission to all concerts, and it must be worn at all times. Face masks must completely cover the nose and mouth and have ear loops or similar to hold in place. Gaiters and bandanas are not acceptable.

In addition, proof of vaccination will be required for admittance. This may be provided with either a paper copy or a digital image. Sunset has created a Health and Safety Web page with a self-assessment based on ten easily answered questions. Those entering the building will implicitly acknowledge that they have answered “no” to all ten questions. Anyone that has answered “yes” to a question will be asked to return for another concert or offered a refund for paid tickets.

Kremer’s DG Chamber Music: 20th Century

Gidon Kremer performing at his 2008 Lockenhaus Chamber Music Festival (photograph by Guus Krol, from Wikimedia Commons, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license)

Readers may recall that, in the Deutsche Grammophon (DG) 22-CD box set of concerto recordings featuring violinist Gidon Kremer, the portion devoted to the twentieth-century repertoire was the largest. Mind you, not all of the compositions were concertos, but they were all concertante performances. In a sharp and unexpected contrast, the twentieth-century portion of the chamber music anthology was the smallest portion of the DG collection. It amounts to three and one-half discs with Alfred Schnittke sharing one of the discs with Carl Maria von Weber. Schnittke is one of the three composers found in the concerto anthology, the other two being Béla Bartók and Alban Berg.

The only composer to be allocated an entire CD is Sergei Prokofiev (both of whose concertos were absent from the DG concerto collection). The chamber music CD presents three of his compositions, the two sonatas, Opus 80 in F minor and Opus 94a in D major (reworking the Opus 94 flute sonata), and the Opus 35bis set of five “melodies.” Only the Opus 115 solo violin sonata is missing from this collection in representing Prokofiev.

The most interesting CD amounts to a “journey to the Second Viennese School.” It begins a quarter-century before the beginning of the twentieth century with the quartet for piano, violin, viola, and cello composed by a teenaged Gustav Mahler. This is followed by one of Arnold Schoenberg’s earliest compositions, simply called a “piece” in the key of D minor for violin and piano.

The remainder of the CD explores the ambiguities of atonality. Both Schoenberg and Berg share their offerings with Schoenberg’s other best-known pupil, Anton Webern. Webern begins the “set” with his Opus 7 collection of four pieces for violin and piano, composed in 1910. This is followed by a bit of an oddity. One of Alban Berg’s most sophisticated serial compositions is his “Kammerkonzert” (chamber concerto), scored for piano and violin soloists accompanied by an ensemble of thirteen wind instruments. By all rights this piece should have been recorded in its entirety. However, all that is included is an arrangement of the second of its three movements for piano, violin, and clarinet.

Even more disconcerting is the following account of Schoenberg’s Opus 45 1946 string trio. This is chillingly macabre music, which Schoenberg used to document the experience of his heart attack. I have had the good fortune to listen to recital performances of this music that have scared the living daylights out of me. (The older I get, the scarier the experience.) Kremer’s recorded performance with violist Veronika Hagen and cellist Clemens Hagen is, if you will pardon the expression, disconcertingly bloodless. The trio is followed by the Opus 47 “Phantasy” for violin and piano, another composition that I have rapturously enjoyed in a recital performance setting. Sadly, neither Kremer nor pianist Oleg Maisenberg come close to capturing a spirit that, as violinist György Pauk once observed, makes you want to dance.

The remaining CD provided an interesting (if not informative) perspective on the first half of the twentieth century. It begins with two sonatas, both of which were completed in 1921. The first of these is Bartók’s first violin sonata, followed by Leoš Janáček’s only sonata for that coupling of violin and piano. When I consulted Halsey Stevens’ biography of Bartók, I was not particularly surprised at the absence of Janáček from the index; but their respective sonatas definitely make for some interesting side-by-side listening. They are followed by Olivier Messiaen’s set of five variations of a theme, composed for violin and piano in 1932. This is before-Messiaen-became-Messiaen music, which definitely has a spirit of its own; but neither Kremer nor his accompanist, Martha Argerich, gave much evidence of grasping that spirit.

Personally, I am glad that ECM Records provided a platform after Kremer formed his Kremerata Baltica; and their recordings to date all feel like a breath of fresh air when compared with these DG offerings.

Celebrating Kent Nagano’s 70th Birthday

courtesy of Naxos of America

Two weeks from today, conductor Kent Nagano will celebrate his 70th birthday. He was born in Berkeley on November 22, 1951. He became a major presence among those that take listening to music seriously here in the Bay Area, particularly after he became the conductor of the Berkeley Symphony in 1978. He used that position as a “bully pulpit” to champion the music of Olivier Messiaen.

His success advanced his reputation far beyond Berkeley, taking him to Paris in 1982 to work with Messiaen on the final stages of the opera, Saint François d'Assise. The premiere took place at the Palais Garnier in Paris on November 28, 1983. Nagano would conduct a full production for the first time in August of 1998 at the Salzburg Festival; and Deutsche Grammophon subsequently released a live recording as part of its 20/21 music of our time series.

It therefore seems appropriate to celebrate Nagano’s landmark birthday with a new recording of his interpretations of Messiaen’s music. That recording was released at the beginning of last month as a three-CD set. These are again live recordings, made this time in June of 2017, July of 2018, and February of 2019. They were all made in Munich during concerts when Nagano conducted the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra.

The first two CDs present a complete performance of Messiaen’s oratorio La Transfiguration de Notre Seigneur Jésus-Christ (the transfiguration of Our Lord Jesus Christ), recorded in 2017. The third CD begins with the orchestral version of both books of the song cycle Poèmes pour Mi (poems for Mi), which Messiaen dedicated to his first wife Claire Delbos, recorded in 2019. The vocalist is Jenny Daviet. The CD then concludes with the 2018 recording of the tone poem “Chronochromie” (time-color).

The song cycle, first written for piano and voice in the summer of 1936 and orchestrated the following year, is one of Messiaen’s earliest full-orchestra compositions. The texts are his own paraphrases of verses from the New Testament, and the music finds him exploring alternatives to the approaches to composition that he had encountered during his studies at the Conservatoire de Paris. These included rhythms and modes based on ancient Greek practices and Hindu rhythms. In many respects this is the “ground floor” of the grammatical and rhetorical foundations that would guide Messiaen’s innovative approaches to composition after World War II.

“Chronochromie” was completed in 1960. This has become one of his more frequently performed orchestral compositions, representative of his efforts to depict the diversity of natural resources through music. The resource that interested him the most was birdsong; and the penultimate movement of this piece involves eighteen different birdsongs, played simultaneously by a different solo string instrument for each bird.

For many of us, “Chronochromie” was a tough nut to crack when we first encountered it. In my case it was a performance by the BBC Symphony Orchestra by Antal Dorati on what was then the Angel label. It took quite some time for me to get beyond the usual listening expectations of devices such as recapitulation and cadences, even in the absence of a tonal center. The necessary shift in my approach to listening came when I realized that the Catalogue d'oiseaux was just that, an extended project of efforts to reproduce the songs of thirteen different birds through music for solo piano. Messiaen did not ask anything more of the listener than to follow his journey from one bird to the next.

In a similar vein La Transfiguration, composed between 1965 and 1969, is basically an act of incantation. This is one of Messiaen’s grandest undertakings, requiring around 200 performers. Like “Chronochromie,” the score makes full use of a large orchestra. However, there are also solo parts for seven instrumentalists, two vocalists, and a large mixed choir. Once again birdsong figures in the instrumental music, while the vocal parts tend to be structured around different styles of chant. In the context of the new Nagano album, it is worth nothing that he gave this composition its West Coast premiere, conducting the Berkeley Symphony and the Contra Costa Chorale. Furthermore, Messiaen was in California at the time to supervise Nagano’s efforts.

In that context this particular selection serves as a reflection on Nagano’s first encounter with La Transfiguration. The other two compositions can then be taken as context for that encounter. From that point of view, listeners might do well to begin their listening with the two earlier compositions on the third CD, holding off on the two CDs for La Transfiguration until both ears and mind are prepared for the experience.

SFS: A Century of Music from Paris, France

The “official title” of this week’s program, presented by the San Francisco Symphony (SFS) in Davies Symphony Hall and conducted by Music Director Esa-Pekka Salonen, is Exotic Birds: Debussy, Messiaen & Saariaho. What may be more interesting is that the selections by these three composers spanned a period of slightly more than 100 years. The entire program was framed by two of the best-known orchestral compositions by Claude Debussy, beginning with the “Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune” and concluding with “La mer.” The first half of the program continued with Olivier Messiaen’s “Oiseaux exotiques” (exotic birds) serving as the “mid-point” for the program’s century of music. For this performance the SFS ensemble was joined by pianist Jeremy Denk. The intermission was then followed by Kaija Saariaho’s concerto for flute and orchestra, given the title “Aile du songe” (wing of the dream), completed in 2001 with Claire Chase (one of Salonen’s Collaborative Partners) as soloist. While Saariaho was born in Helsinki and studied at the Sibelius Academy, her base of operations is now in Paris, the city that provided the same home for both Debussy and Messiaen.

The program note by James M. Keller for “Aile du songe” suggests that it might be more appropriate to call the composition “concerto-like,” rather than simply classifying it as a concerto. Certainly, the overall structure does not follow concerto conventions. The twenty-minute composition is divided into two sections reflecting settings first in the air and then on land. The first section begins with a “Prélude” followed by two episodes, “Garden of the Birds” and “Other Shores.” The second section begins with “Dancing Bird,” after which it concludes with “Bird, a Tiny Satellite of Our Planetary Orbit,” appropriating a phrase by the poet Saint-John Perse. Those viewing the SoundBox programs streamed by SFSymphony+ may recall that Chase performed the second section of this concerto as part of the Metamorphoses program that she curated at the beginning of this past July.

The instrumentation for “Aile du songe” was particularly imaginative. Chase shared the front of the stage with one of the largest percussion ensembles (including timpani) that I have encountered in Davies. The only other instruments were the string section, harp, and celesta. Saariaho has been known for her rich palettes of diverse sonorities, possibly due to her earlier interest in electronic music; but the diversity is so broad that one might easily forget that this is a flute concerto. Mind you, Chase had her own contributions to those sonorities, which included interpolating the flute passages with vocalizations. Ultimately, “Aile du songe” emerged as a performance in which the visual experience was as compelling as that of listening.

“Oiseaux exotiques” was similarly impressive in its approach to instrumentation. The percussionists took their usual place at the rear of the stage, but they were as busy in performing Messiaen as they were in the Saariaho selection. This time, however, there was no string section; and the winds and brass were distributed across the stage with some sense that spatial relations were as significant as the marks on the score pages. Denk’s piano, on the other hand, had the usual front-and-center location.

Messiaen’s interest in birdsong dates back to 1952 when he composed “Le merle noir” (the blackbird) for flute and piano, in which the flute part was based entirely of blackbird songs. This was followed in 1953 by the orchestral composition “Réveil des oiseaux” (awakening birds), which again involves little more than a rich diversity of birdsongs. “Oiseaux exotiques” was composed between 1955 and 1956 and accounts for an array of 47 birdsongs. Mind you, I did not try to count them all; but some of them were clearly more percussive than melodic. As a result, there was considerable diversity in the quarter-hour duration of this composition, although it would probably be fair to say that not all of the birds accounted for are consistently engaging.

Given the rich inventiveness encountered in both “Oiseaux exotiques” and “Aile du songe,” the familiarity of “La mer” made for a welcome conclusion to the evening. Nevertheless, this, too, is music with a rich diversity of subtly-shifting sonorities. The primary distinction was probably that most of the listeners in the hall knew what would come next and when it would come. Still, Salonen brought his own approach to shaping the three movements of Debussy’s composition. Furthermore, the earlier selections on the program sensitized the listener to attend to even the subtlest of details; and those subtle details were just as evident in century-old Debussy as they were in the mid-century of Messiaen and the recent past of Saariaho. For that matter, the decade-earlier “Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune” had its own subtle sonorous details unfolding during the modest duration of only ten minutes.

Taken as a whole, the entire experience amounted to an evening in which attentive listening was consistently and abundantly rewarded.

Concert Recording of LCCE Playing Messiaen

courtesy of Naxos of America

A little over a week ago, Avie Records released an album of music from a concert performance presented by the Left Coast Chamber Ensemble (LCCE) at the beginning of February of 2020. Content was based on recordings made during the second half of the program, entitled French Sublime, performed at both the Hillside Club in Berkeley and the San Francisco Conservatory of Music (SFCM). “For the record,” this site has an account of the SFCM performance.

That portion of the program was devoted almost entirely to Olivier Messiaen’s “Quatuor pour la fin du temps” (quartet for the end of time). The LCCE performers were Artistic Director and violinist Anna Presler, cellist Tanya Tomkins, clarinetist Jerome Simas, and pianist Eric Zivian. This was followed by the world premiere of what could be taken as a reflection on Messiaen by LCCE violist Kurt Rohde, scored for violin and piano and entitled “one wing.”

As another “for the record,” this was not my first encounter with these four musicians playing Messiaen’s quartet. Ironically, that first encounter took place almost exactly (within a day) five years earlier, also at SFCM. On that occasion I was highly impressed by Simas’ clarinet work, particularly in his solo movement, “Abîme des oiseaux” (abyss of birds), in which the profound depth of that abyss is depicted through an extremely wide dynamic range, dropping all the way down to the threshold of audibility. As might be guessed, neither recording nor playback technology is adequately equipped to deal with such extremes, particularly at the soft end; so the best I can say is that the recording efforts of Zach Miley gave this track its best shot.

Taken as a whole, however, the 2020 performance never quite matched the qualities of the 1995 one (or, just as likely, my listening experiences over those five years led to the development of a more discerning ear). Those that have been following this site for some time probably know that I have frequently accused Zivian of showboating his keyboard work. The piano part for Messiaen’s quartet is as intensely expressive as the clarinet part. Obviously, the piano has broader resources at its disposal; but Zivian seemed more interested in lighting fireworks that in weaving the piano into the overall quartet structure. This seems to have had a negative impact on both Presler and Tomkins, whose problems with intonation can probably be attributed to having their references points obscured by Zivian’s showboating.

Rohde’s composition has its own “Messiaen connection,” which has nothing to do with the quartet. In 2002 San Francisco Opera presented the American premiere of Messiaen’s opera Saint François d’Assise (Saint Francis of Assisi). One of the characters is known only as “The Angel;” and the costume designer endowed the vocalist with an outfit involving only a single wing. This became the inspiration behind Rohde’s choice of title.

Nevertheless, as a listener, Rohde seems to have been better acquainted with Messiaen’s quartet than with his opera. Indeed, the last of the eight movements of that quartet is scored only for violin and piano; and there is an almost spooky segue on this recording as Messiaen’s duo appears to flow almost seamlessly into Rohde’s. Fortunately, these are the two tracks on the album where Zivian shows the most restraint, much to the advantage of both the violinist and the listener. However, it is also likely that Rohde was as interested in that breadth of dynamic range demanded of the clarinetist for “Abîme des oiseaux;” and his pursuit of the “outer limits” for the violinist makes for highly absorbing listening.

The fact is that Rohde’s duo deserves more than a “world premiere shot;” and, if there are shortcomings in the Messiaen performance, they are outweighed by giving a wider variety of listeners an opportunity to experience the skills behind “one wing.”

Raphaël Pannier’s Debut CD Finally Arrives

courtesy of Braithwaite & Katz

Faune, the debut album of jazz drummer and composer Raphaël Pannier was originally scheduled for release at the end of this past August. However, the continuing pandemic has disrupted any number of release plans; and, according to Amazon.com, Faune will be available this coming Friday. Nevertheless, because the recording was produced by the Paris-based French Paradox label, Amazon will not be providing physical copies that would have to be shipped over from France. However, Amazon has created a Web page for processing pre-orders for downloading the new album; and that Web page includes a “Listen Now” button for previewing two of the tracks.

[added 9/14, 3:30 p.m.:

Apparently, French Paradox also distributes through Bandcamp. As a result, the site has a Web page that supports not only streaming and download but also delivery of the physical CD. That Web page even includes, for a little less than four more euros, an “autographed” physical package. Note the currency, however. All Bandcamp prices are given in euros, and those prices are subject to change. In addition, the delivery will be from France; and shipping times are likely to be more variable than they were prior to the pandemic.]

The tracks are organized in such a way that original compositions reflect (and, in one case, preview) music by other composers. Indeed, the album title evokes a similar action of reflection. Claude Debussy’s “Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune” (prelude to the afternoon of a faun) amounts to a reflection on the text of the poem “L’après-midi d'un faune” by Stéphane Mallarmé. Debussy saw his “prelude” as music that would be appropriate to precede a reading of Mallarmé’s poem.

Debussy is not one of the composers represented on Pannier’s album. However, Maurice Ravel is, with an arrangement of the “Forlane” movement from his suite Le Tombeau de Couperin. Less expected is the presence of another French composer, Olivier Messiaen, with one of the movements from his twenty-movement suite Vingt Regards sur l’enfant-Jésus (twenty visions of the infant Jesus). Pannier prepared an arrangement of the fifteenth of those “visions,” “Le baiser de l’enfant-Jésus,” (the kiss of the infant Jesus). This is preceded by Pannier’s own “Lullaby,” clearly identifiable as a “prelude” to the Messiaen movement with an arpeggiated passage that reflects on some of Messiaen’s earliest experiments in harmonic progression.

More familiar idioms can be found in Pannier’s arrangement of “Capricho de Raphael,” composed by the Brazilian bandolimist Hamilton de Holanda. (The bandolim is the Portuguese contribution to the mandolin family. Curiously, the advance material for this album never mentions whether or not Pannier is the “Raphael” in the composer’s title!)

Finally, there are two jazz compositions, both of which may be described as “adventurously modern,” that provided points of departure for Pannier. The album begins with Ornette Coleman’s “Lonely Woman,” which is immediately followed by Pannier’s “Midtown Blues.” The other selection is Wayne Shorter’s “E.S.P.” (Extra Sensory Perception), which was the opening track for the first Columbia album presenting the “second Miles Davis quintet,” E.S.P. Pannier prepared brief “Intro” and “Outro” compositions, both of which are enhanced with electronic effects provided by Jacob Bergson.

Shorter was definitely a good choice, since Pannier’s “front line” consists only of alto saxophonist Miguel Zenón; and, in Pannier’s quartet, Zenón does not have to worry about competing with a virtuoso trumpeter! The rest of the quartet consists of François Moutin on bass and Aaron Goldberg on piano. However, Giorgi Mikadze takes the piano for the Messiaen and Ravel selections. Indeed, he plays the “Forlane” pretty much as Ravel wrote it, allowing the other three musicians to work around him (with a few subtle interjections from Bergson’s electronics). Mikadze then returns to the piano for Pannier’s final composition, “Monkey Puzzle Tree.”

Taken as a whole, Faune provides an opportunity for attentive listening that will probably be reinforced by approaching the entire album as a suite unto itself.