Simon Wynberg and the Chandos imprint have done it again. This time with Frederic Block: Chamber Works. But there is more: a masterpiece of a recording requires interiorization of rare – often difficult – scores. But not, none of that seems to be a challenge for the celebrated ARC Ensemble [Artists of the Royal Conservatory]. Violinists Erika Raum and Marie Bérard [on the Piano Trio No. 2 Op. 26], violist Steven Dann, cellist Thomas Wiebe, pianist Kevin Ahfat are, once again, fused as one voice to revel in this extraordinarily brilliant music by Frederick Block [or Friedrich Bloch] the German exile who escaped the evil power of Nazism and made his way, via Trieste, then London and finally to New York. Many of the same accolades that applied to earlier recordings in this series also apply to the Block disc.

When the history of this generation of baby-boomers is finally written – and recalled – one of the momentous events ought to be the series of recordings bookmarked as Music in Exile. One would be remiss if one didn’t mention the name of its curator [the term “master sleuth” may also apply] Simon Wynberg, who is also Artistic Director of the ARC Ensemble. “Why?” would be a rhetorical question for all the obvious reasons. For instance, one would be hard-pressed to find another series like it.

A series, for instance, that has unearthed extraordinarily brilliant music by Jewish composers, who would have remained tragically unknown [as composers at any rate] had not James Conlon, Music Director of the Los Angeles Opera and Honorary Chairman of the ARC Ensemble. Mr Wynberg credits Mr Conlon as “a pioneer in the recovery of lost twentieth-century repertoire.” But Mr Wynberg is being characteristically reticent here. He has, after all, played a significant role in studying the scores – in this instance, those of Block – and made them interpretation-ready for the myriad award-winning ARC Ensemble. And then there is the genius of the extraordinary performers in the ARC Ensemble…

The work that the ARC Ensemble has done also displays exceptional precision of place and time. Part of the aspect of “time” is owed in part to Block. His music is the music of triumph human endeavour – especially considering the fact that he had to contend with the rising tide of Nazism – specifically the fact that there is no bitterness in any of this material, nor rage. Perhaps most significantly, there is absolutely no echo of hopelessness. The ARC have twigged onto this with characteristic astuteness. In the sense of “time” the Ensemble show deftness and intuitive – even idiomatic – understanding and, indeed, interpretation of the works of a composer in whose work the tailwinds of the Romantic era filled his sails en route to the mid-1940s.

If Block’s life were not cut short in 1945, there is every reason to suspect that he would have embraced Modernism in his own way. The clarinet and piano interplay in Suite, Op. 73 for clarinet and piano [with the inimitable clarinetist Joaquin Valdepeñas and pianist Mr Ahfat] is a remarkable portent of what might have been. The string interpolation with the woodwind instrument in finale in this suite is that crucial degree more sinewy – and convincing – when taken on the wing which was also the daily bread of someone like Béla Bartók and his penchant for folk-inflections in his musical grammar. Moreover, had Block lived on past the Wartime era, who can tell what the trade winds that blew in Post-modernism [such as those that also filled the sails of Igor Stravinsky] might have brought Block – yes, he does appear to be that open to innovative ideas.

The ARC Ensemble play all of this repertoire with characteristic flexible but coherent momentum, taking their time to draw out themes and develop them to their natural and respectively appropriate climactic dénouement. En route they steal in with sensuous reticence. Their boldest step is to lend a late-classical  nobility to the Quintet, Op. 19 for two violins, viola, cello and piano.

There is throughout this performance a self-restraint of rhetoric that may appeal to anyone not unshakeably attached to the kith and kin of Germanic music of the period during which this music was written. The voltage may be lower in each instance, but every picturesque episode and naturalistic [and emotional] detail is present in the momentum of this beautifully-written music.

All of this puts enshrines this Music in Exile series in a place that is utterly fascinating to behold, but also hard to match in every respect of rare recordings of quite simply archeological importance. And happily, these signature scores are brought to life by one of the most justifiably celebrated ensembles. Kudos also to Mr Conlon, Mr Wynberg and, of course, Chandos.

^{Deo Gratis…}

Music – 1. Piano Trio No. 2 Op. 26 [1930]; 2. String Quartet, Op. 23 [1928-30]; 3. Suite, Op. 73 for clarinet and piano [1944]; 4. Quintet, Op. 19 for two violins, viola, cello and piano [1929].

Musicians – ARC Ensemble | Erika Raum: violin; Marie Bérard: violin [1]; Steven Dann: viola; Thomas Wiebe: cello; Joaquin Valdepeñas: clarinet; Kevin Ahfat: piano.

Released: 2024
Label: Chandos [CHAN 20358]
[chandos.net]
Runtime: 1:10:54

By now, thanks in large part to the radio play a certain British musical family is getting, the Cello Sonata in G minor Op. 19 by Sergei Rachmaninoff is suddenly one of the most famous chamber works in the world. The fact is that the outstanding recording of this piece on Muse [Decca, 2021] by cellist Sheku Kanneh-Mason and his pianist sister Isata Kanneh-Mason is – of course – not the only one in existence. The prodigiously gifted cellist Hee-Young Lim also recorded a version on her Russian Cello Sonatas [Sony, 2020] – with the pianist Nathalia Milstein – that ‘married poetry and power’. There are, no doubt several other recordings, each with its own appeal.*

However, one as spectacular as this recording by cellist Noémie Raymond and pianist Zhenni Li-Cohen on their disc Dialogues has graced our memories; certainly not for a considerable length of time. One is apt to ask. “Why?” Is it the existential power of the Rachmaninoff sonata? Or is the pairing of that extraordinary work with Viola Sonata [1919] by Rebecca Clarke, transcribed here for cello and piano? The answer is: both of the above. Add to that the eloquence of the performance of both works – likely a definitive interpretation of Clarke’s fiendishly challenging sonata and you have a disc to die for.

First things first: Miss Raymond and Miss Li-Cohen’s performance of the Rachmaninoff sonata – expertly incorporating the secrets of the instrument imparted to the composer by his friend Anatoliy Brandukov, who first performed – is a masterpiece experienced in a mirror reflecting the dark and light of the very soul of the composer. After a brief introduction, Miss Raymond cello expresses the opening movement’s great yearning with a dark eloquence.

The handover to Miss Li-Cohen’s pianism is graceful and she carries off the musical baton, so to speak, with exquisite articulation. Thereafter the piano is the dominant partner, and only in the elegiac Andante – one of Rachmaninoff’s greatest achievements – does Miss Raymond’s cello come back into its own. The lusciously dark tonality of Miss Raymond’s beautiful instrument appears to be eminently suited to Rachmaninoff’s state of mind at the time of the work’s writing.

This is a surging, urgent performance: the outer movements are dashed  off with considerable passion – not the least because of Miss Raymond’s psychological grasp of the [extra-musical] qualities of darkness and light, while the Andante is emotional assault is traversed with dignity as well as triumphally, great feeling.

The performance of Clarke’s seminal work for her instrument – the viola – is not only brilliantly transcribed, but also receives a hair-raisingly marvelous rendition – completely attuned to Clarke’s vision and artistry. Miss Raymond and Miss Li-Cohen take Clake’s calling card and make it their own, while reverentially evoking the great – sadly all-but-neglected – mastery of Clarke’s genius as a composer.

Again, the dark tones of Miss Raymond’s cello are pivotal to the performance of the work. This time, however, she uses her enigmatically burnished tonality to express – in the first, Impetuoso – ma non troppo allegro movement – a lyrical and harmonic language that Clarke conjured from Claude Debussy and Ralph Vaughan-Williams. This is especially true of Clarke’s chromatic language, expressed in modes and whole-tone scales, relocated in this description to the lower gravitas of the cello.

The Vivace movement is an compelling experience, vibrant cello is poised and often duels with the unpredictable edge to Miss Li-Cohen piano, negotiating Clarke’s use of special harmonic devices and elegant pizzicato. The dazzling work concludes with the extraordinary sensuality that Clarke imparts to it as she reinstates the themes from the first movement. Miss Raymond and Miss Li-Cohen each capture – with a flourish – the lush and magisterial pyrotechnics that Clarke wrote in for both viola and piano parts.

Miss Raymond and Miss Li-Cohen’s noble performances of both sonatas ought to make this disc the first choice among modern recordings. Their searching, introspective accounts of both works is outstanding – arguably one of the most compelling cello-piano performances, despite the myriad of great historical performances available on disc through the decades.

^{*For historically-minded aficionados some of these are Mstislav Rostropovich and Alexander Dedyukhin [1958], Lynn Harrell and Vladimir Ashkenazy [1984], Yo-Yo Ma and Emanuel Ax [1990], Steven Isserlis and Stephen Hough [2002], Mischa Maisky and Sergio Tiempo [2005] and, of course, Jean-Guihen Queyras and Alexander Melnikov [2022].}

^{Deo gratis…}

Music – Sergei Rachmaninoff [1873-1943] – Cello Sonata in G minor Op. 19 – 1 I. Lento – Allegro moderato; 2 II. Allegro scherzando; 3 III. Andante; 4 IV. Allegro mosso. Rebecca Clarke [1886-1979] – Viola Sonata [version for cello and piano] 5 I. Impetuoso – ma non troppo allegro; 6 II. Vivace; 7 III. Adagio.

Musicians – Noémie Raymond: vc; Zhenni Li-Cohen: p.

Released: 2024
Label: Leaf Music [LM295]
[leaf-music.ca]
Runtime: 1:04:37

There can be no doubt that Joe Brent – expectantly – threw down the immense gauntlet to the three co-conspirators that together [with him] make up a mathematically remarkable 9 Horses, that probably went something like this: Let’s see how far we can get when we pry open – then push – the envelope on the magical sound world of pizzicato. The answer, in a word, is, of course, the album Strum.

Expanded across an 8-song repertoire – one, more fascinating than the other – is of course as exhilarating as listing to a consort of musicians on each track sound like a whole crashing orchestra, rising and falling, in diminuendo and crescendo led by the myriad of string instruments played by Mr Brent, the violin and hardanger d’amore of the brilliant Sara Caswell and the rumble and growl of the contrabass of Andrew Ryan, together 9 Horses.

The adventurous music is launched immediately with the title track, Strum, and listeners are propelled into the wondrous megalopolis of inharmonicity. Here a microcosmic world of frequencies of overtones detonates a multitude of tonal atoms buzzing and chattering melodically, harmoniously, inharmoniously, and rhythmically in quantum packets of songful sunbursts of music. It’s not all plucked strings – or strings played con arco, of course.

We soon find our ears opened wide with music that is evocative of a multitude of soundworlds colliding, colour and tonal palettes exploding, all of which makes for a sonic landscape evocative of [and from] endless vistas à la Richard Strauss, and Jean Sebelius, of Aaron Copeland and Ralph Vaughan Williams, the aural canvases of Maurice Ravel the brilliant mischief of Igor Stravinsky.

And from there into the electronica inspired by from the radical worlds of musicians from Karl Heinz Stockhausen to Terry Riley, the bluegrass world of Vassar Clements, the blues from Son House, bebop of Bird and everyone into the modern era, the jagged and ever-changing rhythmic evocations of Thelonious Monk, Charles Mingus, Ornette Coleman. This culminates in the brilliantly ecstatic crescendos of The House That Ate Myself.

In short, the excellent album of songs – Strum – by 9 Horses is like an elegant railway system linking jazz, folk and the chamber music style of the serialist and post-serialist 20^th century conservatoire. But to describe it as such gives the impression of overcooking when it is a masterpiece of subtlety. Mr Brent and 9 Horses meld their sound not only with an expanded string consort, but this music also employs the inharmonic sounds of drums and cymbals, and the overtones produced by the rounded, whole number multiples of the fundamental frequency of the tabla.

The strings of 9 Horses often spacy employs the cool bending notes of Phrygian modes, summoning the wondrous support of flute oboe and saxophone. The sound of the reeds and flues of flute and woodwinds they initiate gently vibrating [flues], reeds and lips in mode-locking which counteracts the natural inharmonicity of the musicians’ columns of warm lungsful of air that – incredibly – lock onto the natural resonance of the strings and other instruments to produce a soaring harmonic architecture of the music. [A full list of contributing guest musicians is listed below].

And lets not forget the discreet, pizzicato harmonics of the pianos, the delicate curlicue of bass lines which often underpin the soaring violins, violas, and cellos what sound like Gaelic laments, and the close-knit phrases that begin in the trio context only to explode like the nuclear corona of the noonday sun. This is not only mind-bending music where nothing is exaggerated of overly mannered; tempo, ensemble, and balance – all seem effortlessly and intuitively right.

^{Deo gratis…}

Music – 1. Strum; 2. Americannia; 3. Gasparilla; 4. Röhrl; 5. Long Time Away; 6. Jenny-Pop Nettle Eater; 7. Just Don’t Call It That; 8. The House That Ate Myself.

Musicians – Joe Brent: acoustic and electric mandolin, acoustic and electric guitar, resonator guitar, baritone guitar, Nashville guitar, violin, ba?lama, tenor banjo, vihuela, lyre, piano, celesta, synths, and synth programming, kalimba, glockenspiel, percussion; Sara Caswell: violin, hardanger d’amore; Andrew Ryan: acoustic bass. With guest contributions from – Blair McMillen and Glenn Zaleski: pianos; Michael Bellar: Fender Rhodes, Hammond organ, Moog One, Solina String Ensemble, Juno-106, and synth programming; Sam Sadigursky: alto and soprano saxophones; Anna Urrey: flute and piccolo; Hsuan-Fong Chen: oboe; Kaoru Watanabe: shinobue, koto, and taiko; Brandon Ridenour: Bb and piccolo trumpets; Mike Robinson: pedal steel; Justin Goldner; electric bass, and cümbü?; Joe Brent, Ben Russell, and Claudia Chopek: violins; Claudia Chopek and Beth Meyers: violas; Emily Hope Price: cellos; John Hadfield, Victor Otoniel Vargas, Jason Treuting, and Kevin Garcia: drums and percussion; Mike List: tabla; Jhair Sala: timbales; Samuel Torres: conga; Kate Steinberg: vocals.

Released – 2024
Label – Adhyâropa Records [052]
[adhyaroparecords.com]
Runtime – 1:07:17