This review by Kenneth Langbell appeared in the English Language Bangkok Post. At some stage, it was made available by Martin Bernheimer of the Los Angeles Times, and has been doing the rounds for at least twenty years.
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A Humid Recital Stirs Bangkok

The recital, last evening in the chamber music room of the Erawan Hotel by U.S. Pianist Myron Kropp, the first appearance of Mr. Kropp in Bangkok, can only be described by this reviewer and those who witnessed Mr. Kropp's performance as one of the most interesting experiences in a very long time.

A hush fell over the room as Mr. Kropp appeared from the right of the stage, attired in black formal evening-wear with a small white poppy in his lapel. With sparse, sandy hair, a sallow complexion and a deceptively frail looking frame, the man who has repopularized Johann Sebastian Bach approached the Baldwin Concert Grand, bowed to the audience and placed himself upon the stool.

It might be appropriate to insert at this juncture that many pianists, including Mr. Kropp, prefer a bench, maintaining that on a screw-type stool, they sometimes find themselves turning sideways during a particularly expressive strain. There was a slight delay, in fact, as Mr Kropp left the stage briefly, apparently in search of a bench, but returned when informed that there was none.

As I have mentioned on several other occasions, the Baldwin Concert Grand, while basically a fine instrument, needs constant attention, particularly in a climate such as Bangkok. This is even more true when the instrument is as old as the one provided in the chamber music room of the Erawan Hotel. In this humidity, the felts which separate the white keys from the black tend to swell, causing an occasional key to stick, which apparently was the case last evening with the D in the second octave.

During the "raging storm" section of the D-Minor Toccata and Fugue, Mr. Kropp must be complimented for putting up with the awkward D. However, by the time the "storm" was past and he had gotten into the Prelude and Fugue in D Major, in which the second octave D plays a major role, Mr. Kropp's patience was wearing thin.

Some who attended the performance later questioned whether the awkward key justified some of the language which was heard coming from the stage during softer passages of the fugue. However, one member of the audience, who had sent his children out of the room by the midway point of the fugue, had a valid point when he commented over the music and extemporaneous remarks of Mr. Kropp that the workman who had greased the stool might have done better to use some of the grease on the second octave D. Indeed, Mr. Kropp's stool had more than enough grease and during one passage in which the music and lyrics were both particularly violent, Mr. Kropp was turned completely around. Whereas before his remarks had been aimed largely at the piano and were therefore somewhat muted, to his surprise and that of those in the chamber music room he found himself addressing himself directly to the audience.

But such things do happen, and the person who began to laugh deserves to be severely reprimanded for this undignified behavior. Unfortunately, laughter is contagious, and by the time it had subsided and the audience had regained its composure Mr. Kropp appeared somewhat shaken. Nevertheless, he swiveled himself back into position facing the piano and, leaving the D Major Fugue unfinished, commenced on the Fantasia and Fugue in G Minor.

Why the concert grand piano's G key in the third octave chose that particular time to begin sticking I hesitate to guess. However, it is certainly safe to say that Mr. Kropp himself did nothing to help matters when he began using his feet to kick the lower portion of the piano instead of operating the pedals as is generally done.

Possibly it was this jarring or the un-Bach-like hammering to which the sticking keyboard was being subjected. Something caused the right front leg of the piano to buckle slightly inward, leaving the entire instrument listing at approximately a 35-degree angle from that which is normal. A gasp went up from the audience, for if the piano had actually fallen several of Mr. Kropp's toes if not both his feet, would surely have been broken.

It was with a sigh of relief therefore, that the audience saw Mr. Kropp slowly rise from his stool and leave the stage. A few men in the back of the room began clapping and when Mr. Kropp reappeared a moment later it seemed he was responding to the ovation. Apparently, however, he had left to get a red- handled fire ax which was hung back stage in case of fire, for that was what was in his hand.

My first reaction at seeing Mr. Kropp begin to chop at the left leg of the grand piano was that he was attempting to make it tilt at the same angle as the right leg and thereby correct the list. However, when the weakened legs finally collapsed altogether with a great crash and Mr. Kropp continued to chop, it became obvious to all that he had no intention of going on with the concert.

The ushers, who had heard the snapping of piano wires and splintering of sounding board from the dining room, came rushing in and, with the help of the hotel manager, two Indian watchmen and a passing police corporal, finally succeeded in disarming Mr. Kropp and dragging him off the stage.

- posted by laura r. @ 5:09 PM

 

Bland, bland...

When a CD is magnificent, it is easy to write about it. When it is pitifully bad, it is even easier. But, sometimes the music critic finds him(her)self in a most uncomfortable position. What if the recording is perfect: fabulous repertoire, good intonation, excellent technique, fine sound take (it is very nice to be able to actually hear the physical breathing of the performer), very informative program notes--but it just does not make you smile, or cry, or anything?

This is precisely the case here. The young cellist T. Thedéen has an impressive resumé, and this recording is a very serious undertaking. For any cellist to record Bach’s suites for solo cello is a sign that the pinnacle of his career has been attained--and there is no doubt that Thedéen has reached his technical maturity and is perfectly able to play these works. He plays them with ease and assurance, fast passages sounding unencumbered--as they should--and the sound is nice and fluid, not to mention the fine dynamic range and equally fine intonation. But unfortunately these qualities are not enough. The performance is competent, correct--but not inspired. The first track (the Prélude of Suite No. 1) already seems to go by too fast: not enough breathing between phrases, no longing accents, no extra time taken at the cadences. This same observation is valid for all the suites, in both CDs.

No matter what the current musical fashion is, this is still music that is dramatic, pensive, moving. It can be a fascinating mirror for the personality of the performer, and it certainly has been played sometimes in an overly sentimental way. This matter-of-fact approach, however, seems to take away too much, and doesn’t replace what is lost with anything very solid. With all the perfection, one is left with the impression of hearing a sequence of very well written cello exercises, instead of one of the most exciting set of suites ever composed. I would have preferred to see Thedéen get closer to the fire, even at the risk of getting burnt. Specially considering how many recordings of these works already exist. In the very personal, very intense interpretation category, Casals (ANGEL CDH 61028-2 and CDH 61029-2) is still a sure bet, notwithstanding all the grunts and moans-- or perhaps because of them. Period instrument? A. Bylsma excels in a controversial recording (SONY 48047). For young blood, passion and flawless technique, Antonio Meneses (NIPPON, released in Japan only) is high up in the list.

BACH Suites for solo Cello: No. 1 in G, BWV 1007; No. 2 in d, BWV1008; No. 3, in C, BWV 1009; No. 4, in Eb, BWV 1010; No. 5, in c, BWV 1011; No. 6, in D, BWV 1012. Torleif Thedéen (vc). BIS CDs 803/804 (2 CDs: 141:39)
(Fanfare Sep./Oct. 2001, p. 136)

- posted by laura r. @ 4:54 PM

 
How many clarinetists does it take to change a lightbulb?
Only one, but he'll go through a whole box of bulbs before he finds just the right one.
- posted by laura r. @ 4:40 PM

 

XLI (or How many poets to change a bulb?)

Emily Dickinson (1830–86).

Split the lark and you ’ll find the music,
Bulb after bulb, in silver rolled,
Scantily dealt to the summer morning,
Saved for your ear when lutes be old.

Loose the flood, you shall find it patent,
Gush after gush, reserved for you;
Scarlet experiment! sceptic Thomas,
Now, do you doubt that your bird was true?





- posted by laura r. @ 3:59 PM

 

Léclair revisited

It was a dark night, full of scary silences. When the dawn broke over Paris, the rays of light shone on the dead body of Jean-Marie Léclair, stabbed in the back by some unknown hand. The murder was never solved, the assassin went unpunished, and the world lost a magnificent composer.

Had Monsieur Léclair lived in the 20th century, his spectacular death alone would probably ensure him immediate notoriety. But the crime happened almost 250 years ago. And Léclair remains that rare figure, in these days when we seem to be digging the past for any scrap of decent music ever composed: a baroque composer of great genius, under-rated and under-performed. His music is poised, mysterious, and delicate, with tinges of sadness and longing. It manages to achieve a tasteful mix of styles, displaying the flair of the Italians for fluent melodic lines and dramatic gestures, as well as the French penchant for elegance and sophistication. It also has characteristics of the “style galant”, particularly a certain angularity in the phrasing, which adds even more flavor to the brew. In short, we are dealing here with a composer of the highest quality, comparable to the Telemann of the “Paris Quartets”.

Thus any new Léclair recording added to my collection is received warmly, and with immense anticipation. The present CD has the extra advantage of including the Deuxième Récréation de Musique d’une Execution Facile, which under the deceptive title hides an intriguing and touching work. Ensemble Contrepoint (Isabelle Lamfalussy, traverso; Hélène Schmitt, violin; Michel J. Rada Igisch, gamba; Jacques Willemyns, harpsichord) is a competent group, and they do a fine job performing this repertoire. However they seem to deliberately aim at making it less “odd”, and so they play in an insouciant manner, shying away from any peculiarity. This is achieved through different means, Ms Schmitt by infusing the music with an all-pervasive enthusiasm, Ms Lamfalussy by smoothing out all the angles and avoiding aggressiveness at all costs. The accompanying instruments find their place somewhere in the middle of these two ideals.

One gets the impression of people speaking the same dialect, but with slightly clashing accents.The result is still a lively, transparent performance, where the radiance of the music is very much apparent. But to my ears this rendering lacks the haunting quality that is so special about Léclair. It ignores the wonderful and deep melancholy, the twisted imagination that interrupts phrases in their climax, like the stilted flight of a bird shot in mid-air.

To anyone who is not familiar with Léclair’s output, this CD represents a chance to get to know a marvelous composer. But if you are looking for a truly sophisticated version of the complete flute sonatas, I would recommend Kuijken’s 2-CD set for ACCENT. I am still waiting for a recording that will do justice to the trios. The most vivid memory I have of them is of a live performance by Concert Royal, where all the subtleties of these works were masterfully captured.

LÉCLAIR Sonatas for violin, traverso and basso continuo: IIè Récréation de Musique; Flute Sonata II in e; Sonata (trio) VIII, in D; Flute Sonata VII in G; Contrepoint. PAVANE ADW 7428 (59:50)

(Fanfare, Sept/Oct 2001)


- posted by laura r. @ 10:32 AM

 
One perfect Rose

Dorothy Parker (1893-1967)

A single flow'r he sent me, since we met.
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet -
One perfect rose.

I knew the language of the floweret;
"My fragile leaves, "it said, "his heart enclose."
Love long has taken for his amulet
One perfect rose.

Why is it no one ever sent me yet
One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it's always just my luck to get
One perfect rose.



- posted by laura r. @ 10:12 AM

 

Perfection happens

When I received the package of CDs that I was supposed to review for the present issue of Fanfare, I saved this one for last. I said to myself: this must be a good one, and since I am usually such a cranky critic, it will be nice to end with something I can actually recommend, for a change.

What made me think that, in the first place? Well, the cover art is beautiful (yes, CD covers do make a difference!), the repertoire could not be any better, and the label is H.M., which usually has the most marvelous music to offer. So the very first impact was wholly positive. To instigate my curiosity even further, I had never heard of the duo. I imagined that if HM had invested in these little-known young interpreters, there was a possibility that they would be at least interesting, if not downright good.

So, did the recording live up to its promise? Absolutely. I hate to brag, but I was right on the mark. This is an impressive disc. Everything about it is just perfect. Juan Manuel Quintana and Céline Frisch have that elusive combination of qualities that are the hallmark (and the privilege) of true artists. They play with grace and assurance, intelligence and feeling. Mr Quintana has a virile quality – something not commonly associated with the gamba. His sound is warm and intense, with none of that forced tone so common among gambists. There is blood running through his veins, and he is not afraid to show it. At the same time, he does not shy away from being tender, when tenderness is needed. The phrasing is subtle, musical gestures are always natural and consistent, the tempi sound exactly right.

Ms Frisch is equally fine - an accomplished harpsichordist, she manages to coax such a variety of timbres from her instrument that we forget entirely that harpsichords are known to have serious dynamic and color limitations. Her sense of phrasing is as unerring as her partner’s, and she brings out all the intricate line-weaves of these works with the utmost clarity and elegance. The playing is full of strength, but not of aggressiveness, and precision never leads to monotony. Inflections seem to stem from the musical text itself, and are never superimposed to it as a mere mannerism.

If you love Bach and also love the gamba, buy this record. If you hate Bach and hate the gamba as well, buy this record. It may change your mind. This is music making at its best, no “ifs”, and no “buts”: it will engage your mind and your heart.

BACH Sonatas for gamba and obbligato harpsichord: in G, BWV 1027; in D, BWV 1028; in g, BWV 1029; in G, BWV 1019 (transc. from the sonata for vn and hpd). J. M. Quintana (vdg); C. Frisch (hpd) HARMONIA MUNDI 901712 (57:27)

(Fanfare, Sept/Oct 2001)

- posted by laura r. @ 11:07 PM

 

Imperfection also happens

Bach’s solo cello suites are, without a doubt, true masterpieces. Sublime yet never too heavy, profound but never boring, they achieve a perfect balance between implied harmony, singing melody and rhythmic variety. One would imagine that they would be, to music, what shrimp is to the culinary arts: the foolproof goods, impossible to spoil. Having been transcribed to every possible instrument, they have been used as soundtrack for bad soap operas and good movies, and even after three centuries they continue to be a challenge to the best cellists in the world.


So it is not entirely surprising to find them in a recorder version. After all, having lost its place to the traverso from the middle of the eighteenth century on, the recorder suffers from a blatant lack of repertoire, and recorder players are always trying to expand the depth and reach of the pieces available to them. In this case, with dubious results.

In this 1999 recording, the jacket cover has a quote from Fanfare, which praises these performances as “committed and convincing”. I agree in part. More precisely, I agree with the “committed” bit. As to convincing…

Ms Verbruggen is a very accomplished player. Her fabulous technique, fast fingers, perfect articulation, suave breathing and good musical instinct have given us many a pleasurable moment. The present CD is a tour de force, with passages where it is almost hard to believe that only one instrument is playing. In the liner text (by John Butt) a very coherent reasoning almost manages to make us believe that this shrimp dish will taste even better than the original recipe. Almost.

The Bach suites, however spare in their chordal writing, are still dependent on the vertical structure, and even though the beauty of several melodic lines makes them tempting for a recorder player, the harmonic aspects sometimes override all others. This happens specially in the preludes, and in several of the slower movements as well. Ms Verbruggen opted to utilize appoggiaturas to evoke the resonant double-stops of the cello. In fact this substitution is all-pervasive and extremely annoying at times, and notwithstanding the technical prowess, the effect touches on the ridiculous (the second gavotte in BWV 1012 is a good example of this: the constant appoggiaturas end up reminding the listener of some hysterical bagpipes lost in the highlands).

The absolute impossibility of the recorder to sound ponderous is a major drawback, and affects all the slow movements. But even in the faster movements or the ones where melodic lines are dominant, and which might seem appropriate for a wind instrument, the high, clear timbre of the recorder is indeed a very poor substitute for the deep, dark timbre of the cello. Not to mention the differences in expressive and dynamic range between the two instruments. Borrowing another analogy from the animal kingdom, it feels like a mouse trying to imitate an elephant.

This version is curious, and of interest to recorder players in general. To anyone else, the original works are more attractive by far, and make for an easier listening.


BACH Suites for recorder (trans. from the originals for solo vc); No. 4, in Eb, BWV 1010; No. 5, in c, BWV 1011; No. 6, in D, BWV 1012. Marion Verbruggen (rcr). Harmonia Mundi HMU CD 907260 (75:35)

(Fanfare, Jul/Aug 2001 – p.87)

- posted by laura r. @ 5:56 PM

 

The Constant Lover

Sir John Suckling (1609-1642)

Out upon it, I have loved
Three whole days together!
And am like to love three more,
If it prove fair weather.

Time shall moult away his wings
Ere he shall discover
In the whole wide world again
Such a constant lover.

But the spite on 't is, no praise
Is due at all to me:
Love with me had made no stays,
Had it any been but she.

Had it any been but she,
And that very face,
There had been at least ere this
A dozen dozen in her place.



- posted by laura r. @ 1:27 PM

 

The Amadeus Quartet revisited

When I was a teenager I had the strange habit of spending my whole allowance in records. The Amadeus quartet (Norbert Brainin and Siegmund Nissel, violin; Peter Schidlof, viola; Martin Lovett, cello) was then one of the ensembles most frequently found in my shopping bag, and I have the fondest memory of deep emotions raised by their performances. Since then, a lot of water went under the bridge, and for a long time I haven’t heard their recordings.

So my heart skipped a beat when I received this CD to review. Hélàs, this time the emotion was a bit dimmed. Still perfectly noticeable are the impeccable chamber playing, the coherent musical conception, the seemingly effortless technique. And it is refreshing to hear a real live performance, with all the coughing and chair shuffling, in these days of perfect, aseptic recordings. These pieces were recorded between 1960 and 1971, and they provide a very good sampling of the Amadeus Quartet, joined by some of their more habitual partners.

There is true grit here, overflowing emotion and very fine musicianship. What is lacking is perhaps a rounder tone quality, but mainly a more relaxed, fun approach to music. Yes, these are very serious pieces, one does not expect any comical relief. But there is a general terseness which appears in all the levels, from the rather tight violin sound, with a very intense vibrato, to the almost oppressive sensation that there is very little “space” between each of the instruments of the quartet - a way of achieving cohesion, no doubt. This was often hailed as one of the Amadeus Quartet trademarks, a homogeneity of tone that made the group sound as one finely tuned instrument. And in Franck and Strauss the constant tension and even some of the timbric harshness don’t seem out of place.

But the clarinet quintet by Mozart, one of the most inspired chamber pieces ever composed, suffers. Maybe because of the incredible emotional scope of this work, which goes from the most soulful melancholy to the most light-hearted whimsy. One yearns for bigger, rounder gestures, for a more bouncing interpretation, for a Mozart that feels less like Brahms and more like… well, Mozart! The music sounds trapped inside a slightly stifling, humid, grandiose place, and one aspires to the open air, to an atmosphere where all details can be clearly perceived and enjoyed.

The thirty years or more that separate us from these performances have witnessed many changes in performance practices as well as in the taste of audiences. And, sadly enough, castles visited in the past always seem more enchanted in our memory. Still, if you never heard the Amadeus Quartet, this is a golden opportunity to get to know what is perhaps the most famous string quartet ever.

MOZART Clarinet Quintet in A, K 581. FRANCK Piano Quintet in f. R. STRAUSS Prelude for String Sextet (from Cappricio), op.85. Amadeus Qrt; Gervase de Peyer (cl) , Clifford Curzon (pn), Cecil Aronowitz (vla), William Pleeth (vc) BBCL 4061-2(76:31)

(Fanfare, Sept/Oct 2001)



- posted by laura r. @ 1:23 PM

 

Bach by Kuschnerova

I would like to start this review with a confession: I am addicted to period instruments. At first it was only a once-in-a-while thing. I was happy to get a whiff of the drug when a friend came by, and I did not actively search for it. But little by little my body started to require higher and higher doses… And now I am hopelessly addicted, to such an extent that I will choose a baroque flute or a baroque violin over their modern counterparts almost any time. In the case of keyboard instruments, the situation is so extreme that baroque music played on piano tends to leave my nerves on edge. Wow, it felt good to get that off my chest!

So now you will understand that this is not a meager compliment: in the many times I heard this disk, not once did I miss a harpsichord. This is a beautiful, moving CD. The reasons are manifold. It presents some of Johann Sebastian Bach’s most marvelous works, impeccably performed, and with a particularly flattering recorded sound.

When one thinks of Bach, the most common portrait that springs to mind is that of a serious man, with powdered wig and no trace of a smile in his tight-set mouth. Irrespective of the actual stage in Bach’s life when these pieces were actually composed, this recording creates a powerful image of Bach as a young man, full of joie-de-vivre, sense of humor and such overwhelming sadness as only the young can feel.

Yes, it is all there in the music. But it is Kuschnerova’s touch that brings it to life. She has an almost contradictory combination of qualities: a sort of no-nonsense approach, coupled with an unerring sense of poetry. The interpretation is crisp, with no large dramatic gestures. The small gestures, however, are infused with life and insight: the way a character change is brought about, or a cadence is resolved, with an almost imperceptible slackening of the tempo; the inexorable ostinatto introduction that enlivens a whole movement … There are so many graceful, subtle details that listing even a third of them would take up too much space. Suffice it to say that this is limpid playing, straightforward but at the same time sophisticated, rich with information and ideas.

The fact that this is a live recording seems almost unbelievable, so devoid of mistakes and extraneous noises it is. In fact, there is no sign of hesitation, no choking, no fuzzy passages. Everything sounds easy, fluent, organic. There is true happiness here, and true sadness. The contrasts are presented with flair but no exaggeration, and these well-known works still manage to sound moving, never mushy. It is one of those CDs that don’t get worn out with use, quite the contrary. Each new listening draws our attention to some new delicate musical feature that, by itself, would be worth the price of the CD. Putting it quite simply – this is a wonderful disk, highly recommended.

BACH Italian concert in F, BWV 971; French Suite No. 2 in c, BWV 813; Toccata in e, BWV 914; Partita No. 6 in e, BWV 830; Präludium & Fugue in c, BWV 847. Elena Kuschnerova (pn) ORFEO C 547 011 A (70:15)

(Fanfare, Dec/Nov 2001)
- posted by laura r. @ 1:10 PM