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Volume 23 Issue 2 - October 2017

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  • October
  • Toronto
  • Choir
  • Arts
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  • Orchestra
  • Jazz
  • Musical
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In this issue: several local artists reflect on the memory of composer Claude Vivier, as they prepare to perform his music; Vancouver gets ready to host international festival ISCM World New Music Days, which is coming to Canada for the second time since its inception in 1923; one of the founders of Artword Artbar, one of Hamilton’s staple music venues, on the eve of the 5th annual Steel City Jazz Festival, muses on keeping urban music venues alive; and a conversation with pianist Benjamin Grosvenor, as he prepares for an ambitious recital in Toronto. These and other stories, in our October 2017 issue of the magazine.

ack any pattern he

ack any pattern he emits. More simpatico, Maneri’s mastery of the viola means that both he and the bassist can challenge one other while emphasizing the woodiness of their instruments. The result coordinates improvisational freedom, pre-modern string shading, and 20th-century aleatory patterns. So relaxed that he almost limits his contributions to cymbals, Kaučič’s dances a pas de deux with the bassist, matching her mercurial stops and inventive guitar-like twangs with bell-like resonation plus supple metal slides. From that same date, when Fernández and Parker join the drummer and bassist, jazz-oriented intersections are glimpsed, palimpsest-like, along with free improvisation. The saxophonist builds up to a staccato narrative, which Léandre hurries along with tremolo buzzes and arco strokes. Fernández’s piano pressure is so dense that he could be playing boogie-woogie. Illuminatingly, Léandre’s most satisfied improvising is alongside Cappozzo. With jazz-like allusions, the warmth communicated by intertwining brass and string textures allows the two to switch forefront and backing roles from one to the other without breaches, making room for Arcadian and ambulatory motions. Outputting chromatic expositions in graceful arcs, Cappozzo’s selfpossessed playing calms the bassist’s frenetic instrumental and verbal asides, creating a cumulative sound that is profound and polished. Brazilian tenor saxophonist Ivo Perelman takes a different route. If Léandre has built a single dwelling, Perelman is more like a developer putting different styles of edifices in designated areas. With frenetic bites of Free Jazz extravagance, Perelman presents his rhapsodic interface with American pianist Matthew Shipp in seven volumes titled The Art of Perelman-Shipp (leorecords.com),Vol. 1 – Titan (CD LR 794); Vol. 2 – Tarvos (CD LR 795); Vol. 3 – Pandora (CD LR 796); Vol. 4 – Hyperion (CD LR 797); Vol. 5 – Rhea (CD LR 798); Vol. 6 – Saturn (CD LR 786) and Vol. 7– Dione (CD LR 799). Only Saturn is a duo, with the others featuring the two plus, on different discs, bassists William Parker or Michael Bisio, and drummers Andrew Cyrille, Bobby Kapp or Whit Dickey. To get a handle on the Perelman-Shipp discs recorded between August and November 2016, first consider Saturn. The result of more than 20 years of musical cross-fertilization, the untitled improvisations show the duo’s comfort level, with Perelman at times eschewing his usual altissimo ladder-climbing for a breathy tone and burlesquing avant-garde solemnity by shoehorning a quote from Heart and Soul into his solo on track one. While the reedist’s unique mixture of whining split tones, intense triple tonguing and theatricality at the climax stays intact, it’s framed by whimsical comping from Shipp, which calmly advances while showcasing skills like suddenly pedalling into the piano’s darker regions or maintaining a steadying pace, as Perelman wrings every extension from each reed outburst. Titan, which adds Parker to the duo and Hyperion, where Bisio completes the trio, feature similar communication, since Bisio is part of the pianist’s band, while Parker and Shipp are longtime collaborators. Parker creates a percussive undertow that expands the saxophonist’s expression, as he follows him through pitch variations and unexpected quickening and decelerating of the narratives. Vigour distinguishes the nearly 20-minute final track as Parker’s vibrant arco pumping surrounds the others’ explorations. At times Shipp creates a stream of high-frequency key-clipping in tandem with Perelman’s overt overblowing, while elsewhere the saxophonist and bassist bond, allowing each pattern suggested by one to be completed and improved on by the other. If Parker’s work is the stuff of high drama, then Bisio’s style is playful enough to be sitcomready. The bassist’s peppy interface is used in a connective fashion, though he also steps forward with tonal variations. His bowing on Part 8 adds to tremolo piano lines and high reed pitches to cement a moderate and mystical theme, while his pizzicato sluices on Part 9 push the action along so that the saxophonist’s squeals resemble cowboy yodels. Cyrille on Dione and Kapp on Tarvos possess contrasting drum philosophies. Cyrille brings a staccato drive to his accompaniment, where unruffled, positioned beats unite the others’ emotional excesses into a logical narrative. This is obvious on Part 6 when beside jerky piano runs, intermittent percussion clip-clops push reed squeaks from altissimo to moderato. On Part 8, the drummer’s motivating shuffle is such that what begins as a keyboard gallop turns to straight-ahead swing, with even the saxophonist’s tone balladic. Hard-toned and sharp where Cyrille is restrained, Kapp is upfront with his crackling strategies as early as Tarvos’ first track. By the final tune, his textural prodding, encompassing bass drum chopping and cymbal reverb, creates a situation swinging enough to make Shipp’s keyboard-blurring cross tones and Perelman’s peeps and dribbling smears bond animatedly. Culmination of this musical equivalent of Lawrence Durrell’s The Alexandria Quartet, where situations change shadings depending on the book, are Pandora and Rhea. Dickey makes a quartet with Perelman, Shipp and Parker on the first disc and with Perelman-Shipp-Bisio on the second. The Parker- Dickey team helps maintain the tumultuous level of action that is Perelman-Shipp’s specialty. This framing on tunes like Track 6 means that Perelman’s consistent altissimo exploration and narrowing yelps fit perfectly. He even shoves a lick from Cherokee into his descending slurs. Freed from the rhythmic function, Shipp has space to indulge in impressionistic reprises, as on Track 3 where the reedist’s exposition spends more time in lower-case description than showy tongue smears. Rhea’s tracks intersect even more notably. At over 16 minutes in length, the first track could be a suite in itself. Backed by double bass thumps and the pianist’s tempodefining runs, Perelman’s introduction is thematic and descriptive. He recaps the head with elevated power in the final sequence atop an assembly line of drum accents. Projects like these are reminiscent of the fact that whether you buy chocolates by the box or individually you can only savour one at a time. For maximum appreciation, this parsimony in consumption should be applied to both the boxed set and the CD series. 72 | October 2017 thewholenote.com

Old Wine, New Bottles Fine Old Recordings Re-Released BRUCE SURTEES “IT WAS NO longer piano playing, it was music, released from all earthly weight, music in its purest form, in a harmony that can be imported only by one who was no longer of this world.” That quote is from conductor Herbert von Karajan speaking of Dinu Lipatti, universally regarded as one of the greatest pianists of the 20th century. Constantin “Dinu” Lipatti was born in Bucharest, Romania in 1917. His father, who had studied with Pablo de Sarasate and Carl Flesch, played the violin and his mother was an accomplished pianist. His godfather was the esteemed violinist and composer George Enescu, for whom, as fate would have it, Lipatti was to become a future partner in concerts and recordings. Lipatti’s mother is quoted as saying that Dinu (as she affectionately called him) “could play the piano before he had learned to smile.” Reportedly, he played a minuet by Mozart at his own belated baptism. At the age of four he gave concerts for charity and began to compose. He studied with Florica Musicescu at the Bucharest Conservatoire. In June 1930 at a concert in the Bucharest Opera given by the best pupils from the Conservatoire, he performed the Grieg Piano Concerto to an enthusiastic audience. Two years later he won prizes for his own compositions, a Sonatina for piano and a Sonatina for violin and piano. In the same year he was awarded a Grand Prize for a symphonic suite, Les Tziganes. In 1933 he finished second at the Vienna International Piano Competition. The controversial decision led jurist Alfred Cortot to resign in protest. In Paris he studied with Cortot and, who else but Nadia Boulanger. At his first public concert in May 1935, a few days after the death of his friend and teacher Paul Dukas, Lipatti opened the program with the Myra Hess transcription of Bach’s Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, as his very first public performance of any piece as an adult. Dinu Lipatti, the 100th Anniversary Edition (Profil PH17011, 12 CDs) contains his entire published EMI recordings, for whom he was an exclusive artist, together with a few rarities from the BBC, Bucharest and elsewhere. Profil has set out the recordings – solos, duets, concertos, etc. – chronologically, starting from the Paris sessions in 1936 through to his final concert in Besançon in 1950. Included are works of Bach, Bartók, Brahms, Chopin, Fauré, Grieg, Lipatti, Liszt, Mozart, Ravel, Scarlatti and Schumann. Colleagues appearing with him include George Enescu, Ernest Ansermet, Eduard van Beinum, Herbert von Karajan, Alceo Galliera, Nadia Boulanger, Hans von Benda and Otto Ackermann. Note the absence of Beethoven, whose works were in his repertoire. As a matter of interest, he was asked to record the Emperor Concerto and he declined because he felt that he was not ready… stating that he required four years of preparation time! The ninth disc contains the Mozart Piano Concerto No.21, with Lipatti playing the cadenzas that he had composed in 1945. It was recorded live in Lucerne on August 23, 1950, conducted by Karajan with the Festival Orchestra. From February 22 of the same fateful year there is a live performance of the Schumann Piano Concerto from Geneva, with Ansermet and the Suisse Romande. His interpretation is very different from the celebrated 1948 recording with Karajan, particularly his introspection in the first movement. The 12th disc is devoted to his final recital on September 16, 1950 at the Besançon International Music Festival. He was in extremely poor condition, severely weakened from chronic suffering from Hodgkin’s disease, with which he was finally diagnosed in 1947. Against the advice of his wife Madeleine and his doctor, he insisted on playing. He played Bach’s Partita No.1, BWV825, Mozart’s Piano Sonata No.8, K310 and Schubert Impromptus D899 Nos.2 and 3. Last on the program were the 14 Chopin Waltzes. He was simply too weak to play the final Waltz, Op.34, No.1 but played instead Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, which was not, however, recorded. The beautiful irony was that the last piece he was to play was the first piece in his first concert. For this disc, the 13 waltzes are followed by his prior recording of Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring. Dinu Lipatti died three months later in Geneva, aged 33. There was nothing routine about Lipatti’s playing. He filled the notes with life, evidenced by these exemplary performances that graced the catalogues over the years, all mono of course, and hearing them again re-ignited the initial enthusiasm. Sensitive newcomers who pay attention should be equally impressed. Footnote: If you are interested, a set from Archiphon, Dinu Lipatti – Les Inédits (ARC- 112-113, 2CDs) contains some choice and rare performances from several sources including the BBC. There is also a unique performance of his Symphonie Concertante for two pianos and orchestra. Recorded in concert in Geneva on September 14, 1951, one year after his death, it is played by his widow Madeleine Lipatti and Béla Siki, with the orchestra of the Suisse Romande conducted by Ansermet. This tape was from Siki’s private collection. There is now a DVD of the celebrated 1978 performance of Il Trovatore recorded live in the Vienna State Opera (Arthaus Musik 109334). The opera was a great favorite of Herbert von Karajan who, in this case, not only conducted but, as was his want, was responsible for the stage direction. This performance is “steeped in scandal.” There are many different accounts of the following incident but according to the liner notes: “Franco Bonisolli was originally cast in the role of Manrico but abandoned the company during a rehearsal where the public had been admitted entry, and, after throwing his sword at the conductor, left the stage in a fury, to be later replaced by Plácido Domingo.” The rest of the outstanding cast are Piero Cappuccilli (Il Conte di Luna), Raina Kabaivanska (Leonora), Fiorenza Cossotto (Azucena), José van Dam (Ferrando), Maria Venuti (Inez), Heinz Zednik (Ruiz), Karl Caslavsky (an old gypsy) and Ewald Aichberger (a messenger). Domingo is in full control of his scenes; Kabaivanska was a Karajan favourite at the time and one can clearly hear why. In truth, every soloist named above is perfectly cast and exemplary in their roles. Watching the plot unfold is quite a different experience from only hearing it. The sets were designed by Teo Otto, and the costumes by Georges Wakhewitsch. Some, in fact a lot, of credit for what we see must go to the late Günther Schneider-Siemssen, who edited the ORF video for TV. Schneider-Siemssen was responsible for opulent, realistic sets that were seen in opera houses around the world. It was he who created the unforgettable sets for the Met’s Ring Cycles (available on DVD) that played every four years through the 1980s. However, for this production he acted only as editor. He died in 2015 at the age of 88. I must assume that he could not edit out the singers stepping right out of character and taking a bow after what seems like every big duet. Was that the custom of the day? Bottom line: this is an outstanding performance and, distracting bows notwithstanding, a no-complaints video. thewholenote.com October 2017 | 73

Volumes 21-25 (2015-2020)

Volume 25 Issue 9 - July / August 2020
Volume 25 Issue 8 - May / June 2020
Volume 25 Issue 7 - April 2020
Volume 25 Issue 6 - March 2020
Volume 25 Issue 5 - February 2020
Volume 25 Issue 4 - December 2019 / January 2020
Volume 25 Issue 3 - November 2019
Volume 25 Issue 2 - October 2019
Volume 25 Issue 1 - September 2019
Volume 24 Issue 8 - May 2019
Volume 24 Issue 7 - April 2019
Volume 24 Issue 6 - March 2019
Volume 24 Issue 5 - February 2019
Volume 24 Issue 4 - December 2018 / January 2019
Volume 24 Issue 3 - November 2018
Volume 24 Issue 2 - October 2018
Volume 24 Issue 1 - September 2018
Volume 23 Issue 9 - June / July / August 2018
Volume 23 Issue 8 - May 2018
Volume 23 Issue 7 - April 2018
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Volume 23 Issue 4 - December 2017 / January 2018
Volume 23 Issue 3 - November 2017
Volume 23 Issue 2 - October 2017
Volume 23 Issue 1 - September 2017
Volume 22 Issue 9 - Summer 2017
Volume 22 Issue 8 - May 2017
Volume 22 Issue 7 - April 2017
Volume 22 Issue 6 - March 2017
Volume 22 Issue 5 - February 2017
Volume 22 Issue 4 - December 2016/January 2017
Volume 22 Issue 2 - October 2016
Volume 22 Issue 1 - September 2016
Volume 21 Issue 9 - Summer 2016
Volume 21 Issue 8 - May 2016
Volume 21 Issue 6 - March 2016
Volume 21 Issue 5 - February 2016
Volume 21 Issue 4 - December 2015/January 2016
Volume 21 Issue 3 - November 2015
Volume 21 Issue 2 - October 2015
Volume 21 Issue 1 - September 2015

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