An entertaining overview of 100 years of American piano music

Evan Mitchell, American Century

Born in New Jersey, educated in Indiana and Texas, and currently Assistant Professor of Music at the University of Florida, pianist Evan Mitchell obviously has this music in his bones. He's put together a wonderful programme that represents the many strands American composers have woven into their piano music, from Gershwin in the 1920s, to 21st Century pieces by John Adams, Missy Mazzoli and Frederic Rzewski.

Most appealing to me in this fabulous musical montage is the contribution of Florence Price, who I believe is the most exciting musical (re)discovery in classical music in this century. Her three Snapshots, written in 1947-52 but not discovered until 2008, are character pieces that bring to mind three particular moments, captured as notes on manuscript paper as if on film. Price can be seen as a modernist artist working in the same vein as her close contemporary, Imogen Cunningham. Both stop time and achieve transcendence.

Imogen Cunningham, Three Dancers, Mills College, 1930

Another wonderful piece is Missy Mazzoli's Bolts of Loving Thunder, written in 2013. It's Mazzoli's homage to Johannes Brahms, containing references both to his late, great, autumnal works for piano, but also to the vital music of what she calls the "Pre-Beard Brahms", the handsome young man on the left. It's a fascinating 8½ minutes of synthesis of youthful vigour and mature wisdom.

Brahms in 1855 - Brahms+beard, by Maria Fellinger, c. 1893-96

It wouldn't be the American Century without Aaron Copland, of course. But his Piano Variations, from 1930 is a bleak and angular work of uncompromising modernism. Nothing could be farther from his later folkloric Americana-inspired popular works. At first this sounds more like Paris than New England; more like Stravinsky than a Shaker hymn. But it's still American in its own way, and good on Evan Mitchell for placing it in the centre of his album. Adolphus Hailstork's Eight Variations on “Shalom Chaverim” provides a more down-to-earth vibe. It's a cleverly-constructed work based on a really lovely tune. 

John Adams' American Berserk, from 2001, is a fascinating work. Adams called it "extroverted, punchy, and fundamentally good-natured." Mitchell lets the music swing, which is what is required. Let's call this Post-Bop Minimalism.  After another uncompromising piece, Frederic Rzewski's Piano Piece No. 4, from 1977, Mitchell wraps things up with Stephen Hough's brilliant, showy arrangement of the Carousel Waltz, from Rodgers & Hammerstein's 1945 Broadway show.

What a fascinating, varied and thought- and emotion-provoking hour+ of music we have on this Centaur disc. Evan Mitchell teaches us about the breadth of American music for the piano while keeping us entertained, and all without resorting to cliché.

This Canadian review comes with best wishes to Americans of Good Will, without threats or sanctions.

Sonatas for the Sun King

Elisabeth Jacquet de la Guerre: The Violin Sonatas of 1707

The publication by Elisabeth Jacquet de la Guerre of six Violin Sonatas in 1707 was a landmark event in French music. The music of "Mademoiselle Delaguerre" was dedicated to Louis XIV, and the Sun King attended its first performance.

"Dinner being over, His Majesty spoke to Mlle de la Guerre in a most gracious manner; after having praised her sonatas extensively, he said to her that they could not be compared to any other such works. Mlle de la Guerre could not have received higher praise, for these words revealed that the King had not only found her music to be most fine, but also to be original — a quality that today is extremely rare."

These are among the first violin sonatas in which the harpsichord makes the move from being part of the continuo, towards an obligato role, becoming a true partner of the violin, which would eventually reach its zenith in the publication 34 years later of Jean-Philippe Rameau's Pièces de clavecin en concerts.

These are wonderful performances, with Dana Maiben playing a beautifully-sounding Nicola Amati violin of 1658, Sarah Cunningham on viola da gamba, and Lisa Goode Crawford on harpsichord. This performance was recorded more than five years ago, in July 2017, but I don't believe it's been published in any other form. This is an important disc of important music, and the sense of occasion that comes when one listens to it makes it clear that it was definitely worth the wait.

I love Quinton McMillon's illustration on the album cover, based on the famous painting by François de Troy, which dates from the end of the 17th or the beginning of the 18th century.

This album will be released on January 20, 2023.

Great 20th Century Canadian music making

Brahms: Piano Quartet no. 1, op. 25; Richard Strauss: Piano Quartet, op. 13

Steven Staryk's skill-set as a solo violinist is obvious: his virtuosity and musicianship are in the top class, and he brings a Heifetz-like tone from the amazing violins he plays. There's a list on his website of 28 great instruments by Amati, Del Gesu, Stradivarius and others that he's played in his 50-year career. As the "King of Concertmasters" at orchestras in Amsterdam, London, Chicago and Toronto, you can add leadership and collaboration skills. Chamber music is a different environment, though, and I was pleased to see this disc with two works Staryk recorded with Quartet Canada, which was in residence at the University of Western Ontario in London from 1968 to 1971. The other members of the group were pianist Ronald Turini, violist Gerald Stanick and cellist Tsuyoshi Tsutsumi. The results are not really surprising: there is both passion and control in the Brahms and the Richard Strauss, and no group-think in evidence in either, but rather strongly characterized playing in the violin as well the other three parts. The group expertly walks the tight-rope between bland uniformity on the one side and over-sentimentality on the other, and the energy in these two works never fades.This is a high point in 20th century Canadian music-making.

The disc will be released on November 3, 2017.

Gems from Steven Staryk's Baroque archive

Centaur's Steven Staryk Retrospective series reaches its 8th volume (to be released September 9, 2016), and new gems from Staryk's own archives keep coming. Staryk's discography was never as broad or well-distributed as it should have been for a violinist of his calibre, but with this series and the previous Steven Staryk Anthology we're getting a clear picture of a giant in 20th century violin performance.

I spend most of my time in the Historically Informed Performance camp when it comes to Baroque music, but I have a soft spot for Steven Staryk and his perfect accompanist Kenneth Gilbert. Here, playing violin sonatas by Corelli, Tartini and Locatelli, the two are perfectly matched. Staryk's tone and intonation are superb, and Gilbert's continuo is so solid, but with plenty of variety and even the occasional surprise. In the finale to the Tartini sonata there is so much wit and such a strong swinging feeling that one thinks of jazz or the best improvisatory comedy: peak Martin and Lewis, perhaps. That oversells this, obviously, but the cool ease and waiting for the unexpected zinger are both here in Tartini's lovely music.

In the concertante Vivaldi selections Staryk soars. This is what Vivaldi violin playing sounded like at its best in the second half of the 20th century, and it's rarely been better since. The sound is serviceable at best, but, and as was the case with volume 7 in this series, the orchestral support is better than expected. I've never heard of the Montreal Baroque Players, but this pickup band of Montreal's best instrumentalists must have been thrilled to play with a soloist at this level, and they're bringing their best game.

Into your life it will creep

"You are here", the first track on Darcy James Argue's new album Real Enemies (due to be released by Real Amsterdam Records on September 30, 2016) really took me back. It begins with the sounds of shortwave: the Voice of America (if I'm not mistaken), the time station WWV, from Ft. Collins, Colorado, and one of those great Numbers Stations used to communicate with spies in the field. I began listening back in the glory days of the Cold War, in the late 1960s and early 70s, to Radio Peking and Radio Moscow, and the CIA-funded Radio Swan. But, believe it or not, the Numbers Stations are still going.



The Real Enemies project is about America's Paranoia Industrial Complex: the endless conspiracies that fuel political campaigns and bedevil our daily lives on Twitter and Facebook.  You could just about pick a story from Google News at random today, and hit on a real or imagined conspiracy: 'rigged' election debates, Russian campaign hacks, anti-vaxxers running for President. All from one day. Argue, a Canadian who has lived in Brooklyn since 2003, has the outsider's clear-eyed approach, which gives him the freedom to hang his music on any conspiracy hook that comes to mind. I don't know, we may not have conspiracies here in Canada. Don't you think that's odd?

Anyway, that's the concept, and it's a beautiful context for some very cool music. Film is an obvious place to start; Argue mentions two specific scores from 1970s conspiracy thrillers: Michael Small's score for The Parallax View (1974), and David Shire's for All the President's Men (1976). I heard Bernard Herrmann's iconic score from Taxi Driver (1976 as well), but then I also heard the same music in Jean-Fery Rebel's Le Chaos, written in 1737. There are other influences: I also thought of big band master Kenny Wheeler (another Canadian), Schoenberg's Wind Quintet and Robert Fripp from the King Crimson years. The actual quotations or influences don't really matter. Argue has a huge palate that he can work with, and he has the taste and the musical wit to find the perfectly apposite style to match, or dramatize, or satirize any crazy theory that's out there. Most important is perhaps his light touch, expressed often with a Latin beat, which serves him well when he gets close to the awful 9-11 theories or the disastrous Middle Eastern fiascos of American presidents.

Not long ago I reviewed the CD Suite Cantiga by the Brazilian guitarist Alvaro Henrique, which included a very similar project from 2010 by the electroacoustic composer Jorge Antunes, entitled Brasilia 50. The track "1963" begins with the same speech by JKF used by Argue in "The Hidden Hand", "The very word secrecy is repugnant in a free and open society..." This is some very cool synchronicity, since America and Brazil have tons of conspiracies and paranoia between them. They can swap and share! [Alvaro's track is used with permission]



Here is the pre-release track "Best Friends Forever", from the Darcy James Argue Secret Society Bandcamp page. There's lots more information on the project, including upcoming live performances, at this page.

It's Very Chess-Like

For half a second after I saw this album, I was tempted to do the review straight, without any reference to the cover. Who was I kidding? Pointing out how bad the - what is it exactly, a pun? - how bad the pun in the title is, plus the awkward body language and the odd expression on the pianist's face? It cries out for inclusion in the awesome Greatest Classical CD Covers EVER? series that began back in 2007, in the Silver Age of the Internet, at the Too Many Tristans blog. Better yet, it gives me the chance to give a shout-out to that great sitcom with a terrible name, Cougar Town!

Anyway, it's a terrible/great cover, but/and it's a pretty good album. With not only stylish, articulate, historically-informed piano playing, but a sense of the fun that the original composers from 17th and 18th century France had to have to survive in that odd musical hothouse of absolutism and ingenuity. It also places Bach in his proper International Style context, a sophisticate who kept up with Italian and French musicians on Twitter and Instagram, rather than a dour Lutheran hack who looked only to his congregation, his betters and God. Schlosberg's Bach I would place in the Andras Schiff camp rather than the Glenn Gould one; it's measured and well-shaped, rather than brittle or faux-pompous. But he gives free reign to Gouldian eccentricity in his two pieces for prepared piano: Schlosberg's very clever arrangement of Marin Marais's Le Badinage, which has the sound and the shape of a Japanese song on the koto; and a surprisingly harpsichord-sounding version of a Francois Couperin Tambourin, played by Schlosberg as if he were sitting down at an actual harpsichord. How exactly did he get a piano to sound like that? Perhaps he put clothespins on the strings like we used to do on the spokes of our bicycles when we were kids.

So there's my review. Now lets play some Penny Can!

A Canadian genius

Everyone raves about the Toronto-born violinist who gained fame as the 'King of Concertmasters', but whose solo career never reached the highest level his talent deserved. Steven Staryk is retired now, still teaching but mainly managing the release of a lifetime of music on disc, first with the 30-CD Staryk Anthology, and now with Steven Staryk: A Retrospective. The reviews for both have been phenomenal, and this seventh release in the latter series is a fine one with which to begin an examination of the Staryk Revival.

The Schumann Violin Concerto had an odd early history involving the composer's mental illness, the love triangle between Robert and Clara Schumann and Johannes Brahms, clairvoyance, Nazis, and all sorts of other shenanigans. Check out the Wikipedia article, or better yet read about Jessica Duchen's novel Ghost Variations, to be published this summer. Steven Staryk's live 1983 performance with an excellent Toronto Festival Orchestra under Pierre Hetu is outstanding in every way except its sound, which is somewhat muffled, but serviceable. Staryk's performance is intense, electric. Perhaps if more people had heard it the current rehabilitation of the Schumann Violin Concerto might have happened sooner. I remember Pierre Hetu well, by the way, as the Music Director of the Edmonton Symphony beginning in 1973. I have a recollection of Staryk playing with the ESO at the Jubilee Auditorium during that period - I want to say the Mendelssohn, but can't be sure.

Next is another superb live performance, this time with the National Arts Centre Orchestra under Mario Bernardi in a concert from 1981. The Walton Concerto is romantic and melodic, but the solo part (the composer wrote it for Heifetz) is fiendishly difficult. This concerto has somewhat better sound than the Schumann; all to the good.

The final work on this disc is very, very cool; a 1973 live recording of the Mendelssohn Concerto from my new home town, Victoria BC.  The mono sound from the outdoor (!) concert with the University of Victoria Symphony under George Corwin is again serviceable. Kudos to the student players from UVic, by the way. They must have been thrilled to play with such an accomplished soloist, and they acquitted themselves very well. Staryk zips through the work at a furious pace with hardly a note out of place. It's really quite remarkable.

A final note about Staryk. While reading more about him on the web I learned about the Symphony Six, a little known Canadian story from the black-list period. Read about it on Wikipedia. While these shameful events put a temporary crimp on Staryk's career, he was soon working again as concert-master with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, the Concertgebouw Orchestra and the Chicago Symphony. Finally he was back as concert-master at the TSO, where all was apparently forgiven. Did Staryk's brush with McCarthy play a role in the unfortunate cap on his solo career? Was it his success running orchestral strings as concert-master? Or did Fame just randomly slip on by when no one was looking? In any case we have this disc (and many others in these two series) to show us the true value of a Canadian artistic genius at the highest level.