The More You Know

Ron Paley, piano.
Big Round Records 8951
Total Time: 50:03
Recording:   ****/****
Performance: ****/****

We take a slight turn to the lighter side of music with this new jazz piano album featuring big band composer, arranger and performer Ron Paley.  He formed his own big band back in 1976 after playing with Buddy Rich and Woody Herman.  He was part of the latter band when they went on tour for a month with Frank Sinatra.  Of late, he and his big band have been performing across Canada with concerts of his own symphonic works played with the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra.

The album plays out like the solo albums of Dave Grusin, or an afternoon spent enjoying the stylings of Marian McPartland.  Here Paley explores a number of jazz styles and rhythms in infectious melodic constructions and rhythmic ideas that are part of concert-like solo works.  After a nice ballad-like opening “Theme” we move into a boogie woogie bass line in “U of M” and even some vocalized rhythmic scat which will recur in a later “Ballad Trilogy”.  “A Beautiful Soul” is an aptly named melody that has its roots in the American Songbook styles of the 1940s.  “P & Q” has an equally nice little tune, this time in waltz-time.  The rich harmonies here add to the often gorgeous arrival points as his melodic material unfolds.  Some of the selections are evidently from a Big Band musical Paley has been working on, Bring ‘Em Back, though these are not identified as such.

There are some additional works on the album that are Paley’s jazzier takes on popular music from seemingly disparate genres (“Alone Together/Pretty Woman”) as well as two explorations of classical music for Tchaikovsky’s “Waltz of the Flowers” and the closing Chopin Prelude C-minor, Op. 28, no. 2 (the very one immortalized by Barry Manilow).  Paley’s rendition is pure magic here.

Overall, this is really an excellent jazz piano album with plenty of fine new works to explore.  Paley proves to be a virtuosic pianist as well that one can certainly hear whether he is playing one of his own original compositions or launching off on an improvisatory exploration of a more familiar tune.  The perfect drive album, or album for just a relaxing afternoon of piano jazz.

 Tchaikovsky: Works for Violin and Orchestra
Moonkyung Lee
London Symphony Orchestra/Miran Vaupotic
Navona Records 6079
Total Time:  57:44
Recording:   (*)***/****
Performance: (*)***/****

One of the great warhorse concertos for violin is Tchaikovsky’s 1878 work.  Maligned from its premiere in Vienna by Adolph Brodsky, the work soon took its place in the repertoire for many of the reasons it caused such a stir at first, its brimming romanticism and seemingly insurmountable pyrotechnics.  It is coupled here with two other works for violin by the composer.

These studio recordings were made last August in London with members of the London Symphony Orchestra.  Soloist Moonkyung Lee enters a very crowded field with this release (there are over 180 recordings of the work currently in the catalogue—not counting the many others that are now OOP).  It then becomes necessary to see what she brings to what will probably be one of several traversals of the work over time.  At first glance, the timings of the three movements seem to align very well with standard practice (coming pretty close to Itzhak Perlman’s classic recording with Ormandy).  This is not the breezy rush that one gets in Heifetz-Reiner.  Fans of the latter approach will find the first movement feels a bit restrained and held back.  The energy seems to bubble more under the surface and the orchestra also just feels a bit small and constrained at times.  The view seems to be to let this serve its function as an opening movement not a finale with a couple of encores.  This does allow for a sense though of greater expressiveness and the sort of detail to intonation that often gets glossed over.  One might argue as well that it also makes these seasoned players think more about not just playing along in autopilot.  Lee is known for her warm playing and in the opening movement this becomes one of the striking aspects of her performance which carries over into the gorgeous central “Canzonetta”.  Once we head into the opening first theme though of the final movement we feel this sense of excitement just explode as we get a real “finale” that pushes forward well and creates a nice contrast to second lyrical idea.  The orchestra also seems to come alive.  But it is the way Lee shapes her own solo interjections and ideas that creates a sense of line even when the gestures are purely virtuosic.  Her interpretation reveals the sort of tension between the need to focus just on the virtuosic demands that too often call attention to themselves and take away from the inner beauty of the concerto (this is something like Ann-Sophie Mutter’s approach as well).  She is helped in this decision then by a measured accompaniment that allows for greater detail in the music.  One tends to want this big orchestral sound with the violin striving against it for supremacy, but here the orchestral string section feels a bit smaller, closer to a chamber orchestra which brings a better balance across the ensemble.  Again the intonation and general quality of Lee’s playing certainly make for stunning results.  In some of the slower moments of the work, the attention to detail pays off as the wind solos of the third movement feel more aligned with Lee’s own interpretive approach and not just little motifs tossed off in the background.  These sorts of details will be welcome to many listeners giving this a fresh approach perhaps.  What it does it give the concerto a more traditional sense of balance across the entire work.  My sense is that this will grow on listeners over time and I do wonder what extra edge might occur in a live performance.

There are two additional works on the album that allow for more of Lee’s gorgeous expressive playing.  The first is Glazunov’s arrangement of the Meditation in d from Tchaikovsky’s Souvenir d’un Lieu Cher, Op. 42.  One of the composer’s more gorgeous and heart-wrenching melodies, it comes from a three-movement work for violin and piano.  Originally intended as the central movement of the concerto, it finds a place here in a beautiful performance.  The album concludes with the earlier Serenade Melancolique, Op. 26.  Leopold Auer was the original dedicatee, but after his criticism of Tchaikovsky’s concerto, the composer wanted to remove the virtuoso’s name only to find it too late to change the published score.  The melodic content and style of the work is perfectly matched here to Lee’s sensibility and makes a fitting close to the disc.

The tentativeness at times makes this a hard call.  Lee’s expressive quality and interpretations certainly make a case for the sort of measured and careful approach taken here but somehow one wants just a bit more fire and energy.  A sense of carefulness seems to pervade the concerto especially in its opening movement and this is hard to overcome despite the truly engaging quality Lee brings to the more lyrical moments of the work and especially in the two shorter pieces on the album.  Would some of this been overcome with a live performance recording?  Hard to tell, but there are enough lovely moments here to warrant considering this recording which seems to open up more in the two fillers and the middle concerto movement the most.