piano music

  • Review: Harris Piano Music

     

    Harris: Complete Piano Music
    Geoffrey Burlesson, piano
    Naxos 8.559664
    Recording:   ****/****
    Performance: ****/****

     

    Roy Harris is best known for his 13 symphonies, and in particular the third of those.  Still, to have written less than an hour of piano music in his entire career seems sparse, especially when many were inspired by his pianist wife, Johanna.  The sole sonata for the instrument, which opens this disc, comes from 1928 while he was still studying in Paris with Nadia Boulanger.  The last is a brief (one-and-a-half minute) work from 1972, seven years before his death.

    The 1928 sonata bears an “Opus 1” designation indicating Harris’ sense of its importance.  The piece is in four movements that play without pause and encapsulate his style of open tonality, polytonality, and florid musical lines suggesting Medieval chant.  It is in some respects an exercise that reminds one of Debussy’s exploration of the piano and open tonality in The Sunken Cathedral.  The “Scherzo” hints at the more playful side of the composer.  The 1938 “Little Suite” is another trifle filled with four exquisite miniatures.

    In 1942, Harris embarked on adapting folk songs in what he envisioned as a contemporary exploration of “American Ballads.”  These will be among the little surprises for those unfamiliar with his piano works.  These pieces quote, or plainly state popular folk songs, though they are cast in Harris’ polytonal language and feature the sort of open harmonies that he was exploring.  American folkloric music was truly in the air in the 1940s and these pieces have a bit more complexity than the somewhat streamlined work of Copland.  These works too sound a bit like an extension of Debussy, though are by no means Impressionistic in style.  There are five of these settings arranged as set one, but only two in the second set.  Highlights from both include a fascinating setting of “The Streets of Laredo,” a dark “Wayfaring Stranger”, some blues like harmonies in “Black is the Color of My True Love’s Hair,” and a mysterious setting of “When Johnny Comes Marching Home” in set two.

    The other substantial work here is the three-movement Piano Suite written between 1939 and 1942.  Once again, quotations of folk music make up the primary musical materials here with African call and response patterns and a hymn tune being primary melodies spread across the suite.  The music is set in open intervals and makes full use of the range of the keyboard. 

    There are several other shorter pieces that help fill out the album: a set of variations, a brilliant Toccata illustrating Harris’ interest of Baroque forms, an untitled piece from 1926, an original version of the sonata’s “Scherzo” movement, a brief piece for a friend, and the afore-mentioned late work, Orchestrations. 

    Throughout, one gets a sense that the piano pieces were exercises In exploring the sonorities that Harris could so brilliantly manipulate in larger ensembles.  Here they are stripped bare reveal a simplicity of expression in often deeply personal music.  Geoffrey Burleson uses the published editions of these works as his musical text and provides what are likely definitive performances of these pieces.  You will not find a more engaging performance recorded in a beautifully warm acoustic that is near perfect.  This release will be a welcome addition to fans of American music and Roy Harris.

  • Review: Dallapiccola piano rarities

     

    Piano Rarities: Luigi Dallapiccola
    Pietro Masa, piano. Rundfunk-Sinfonie Orchestra, Berlin conducted by Peter Hirsch
    Capriccio 5045
    Total Time:  74:32
    Recording:   ****/****
    Performance: ****/****

     

    Luigi Dallapiccola (1904-1975) was one of the important transitional Italian composers of the 20th century.  His work brought that Italianate sense of melodic writing and colorful orchestration that warmed his use of twelve-tone composition quite amazingly.  The works on this disc span the decade in which Dallapiccola began to modify his compositional approach toward more twelve-tone models but do not let that scare you away from this disc.  The pieces here are arranged mostly chronologically allowing you to hear the gradual adaptation of the technique within Dallapiccola’s developing musical language.  There are three solo piano works of gradually growing serial technique bookended by a delightfully modern piano concerto and an orchestral work.

    The opening piece, the Piccola Concerto per Muriel Couvreux, dates from 1939-1941.  Musically, this could be considered part of a “Neo-Baroque” movement, often overlooked by musicologists, where counterpoint and older understandings of form and title designations give us a clue to the music itself.  Such is the case here in this work of six movements each rather brief.  Gorgeous lyrical writing is part and parcel of this work that tends to still evolve much like a Baroque line would but harmonic ideas tend toward the more modernistic.  The piano at times is reminiscent more of Milhaud and post- Les Six, not as acerbic as American modernism and without any jazz inflections.  The simplicity and clarity of the scoring here is due in part to its dedication to the seven-year old girl in its title.  The work is a decided little gem from the period and quite accessible.  It is quite well-performed by Pietro Massa who somehow manages to find the proper balance between the harsh chordal clusters that gradually begin to take over and the lyrical passages that make up much of this piece.  Among many highlights is the almost Impressionistic fifth movement, “Notturno” which has an almost mystical quality to it. 

    The sense of modernism and the Baroque also comes to the forefront in the final work on this disc, the Pieces for Orchestra.  The opening “Sarabande” is a denser orchestral piece with that blend of lyric writing and more experimental atonal writing that further explores fascinating orchestral textures as well.  It is this colorful writing that draws the listener in emotionally.  The second piece is a “Fanfare and Fugue” that grows in intensity.  The performance is given a clear recorded presence that feels well-shaped by Hirsch who manages to create just the right balance between what feels like music veering out of control. 

    It is no surprise that the Second Viennese School worked out their technique in keyboard music, as Bach had worked out the “new” chromaticism of his time in the same place.  Coming to these atonal works with that sense of mathematical, theoretical understanding might gain an appreciation of what composers who followed in the wake of Schoenberg were trying to accomplish by further liberating chromaticism.  For Dallapiccola, regardless of his harmonic palette, there is always a sense of drama that often appears to overcome his tone rows.  There should be little surprise then that for his Sonata canonica in Eb (composed between 1942-43) he would apply contrapuntal technique to Paganini’s Caprice No. 14.  The piece was intended for an anthology of piano music by contemporary Italian composers and is another rediscovered jewel of a piece.  Each of these four difficult movements sees the composer experimenting with canon and chromatic writing extending an approach followed by the previous century’s virtuosi, especially Liszt’s own Paganini adaptations.  The opening “Allegretto comodo’s” slow musing could easily be a late-night popular music musing with it’s clear harmonies which soon move into a faster paced section.  The tenderness of the “Andante sostenuto” is equally gorgeous.  The final movement has an almost post-Beethoven piano sound.

    The following work, 3 Episodes from the Ballet ‘Marsia’ (1949-1950) is based on ideas Dallapiccola used for his earlier ballet.  Here is a more complex piano work that features a variety of dense textures and full exploration of the piano.  In some respects, the work feels like an extension of Debussy’s Preludes with the first movement feeling a bit like The Sunken Cathedral.  Dallapiccola explores both open harmonic ideas and very closely-packed intervals that lend this work a far more serious nature.  Massa’s performance here is a committed one. 

    By 1952, the year of the Music Booklet for Annalibera, Dallapiccola had firmly undertaken serialism and this work, dedicated to his daughter, allows for us to hear how that stricter compositional parameter impacted the sound of his music after hearing the previous two works on this disc.  One sees the Baroque nod to Bach in the title but Dallapiccola also employs that composer’s name as both melodic and harmonic musical materials in this eleven-movement piece which features other longer arching structural connections as well in these piano miniatures.  Massa again manages to find ways to give this music an almost improvisational sense when it is needed balanced with the clarity of textures necessary for the more complicated segments of the music here.

    Why is Dallapiccola’s music less known outside of Italy, or even Europe?  The answer may just lie in his ability to create accessible music that maintains often gorgeous lyrical “melodies” even when veering into atonal realms.  There was very little tolerance for non-strict, harsh-sounding music by academia and such tunnel vision too easily dismissed composer’s like Dallapiccola who created music that has fascinating textures coupled with an emotional heart that somehow went missing from much academic music by the 1940s.  The other reason though is that Italy was a bit late in terms of composer’s adoption of this technique coupled with its rise during WWII and Italian fascism.  These should not be deterrents to picking up this well-recorded disc that allows for a quick introduction to this composer’s music. 

    Capriccio’s release is a fabulous way to hear the work of this lesser known 20th century Italian master.  Once one enters Dallapiccola’s sound world in this presentation, even the harsher serial music does not feel like an affront to the ears.  This has a lot to do with Massa’s interpretations of these pieces but also the gradual stretching that naturally happens as the disc plays out.  More importantly, this appears to be the only available recording of the Piccolo Concerto with the other piano pieces on harder to find labels.

    The only complaint is that the release is served poorly by badly translated English notes that make for far more frustrating reading than the music it intends to describe.  You will be fine if your German is up to par but the English notes appear to have been translated from Italian and feature poor sentence structure and grammar. 

    These things aside, this is well worth your effort if you are a fan of 20th century music.