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12.2003 |
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Bach:
The Art of Fugue. Emerson String Quartet. Da-Hong
Seeto, producer and engineer. DG 289 474 495
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Bach’s Art of Fugue
demands the utmost concentration from musicians and listeners
alike. Indeed, scholars question whether it was even written
for performance; some suggest it’s an academic study demonstrating
the near-limitless possibilities of contrapuntal writing and
music’s ability to achieve spiritual purity. Bach
left the piece unfinished at the time of his death, without
indicating the order of its 21 canons and fugues, nor the instrumentation.
So it’s been performed by a wide variety of forces, from
solo harpsichord and organ to chamber orchestra. Today, eighty
minutes of solo harpsichord or organ in such abstract music
is beyond most listeners, and while chamber orchestras provide
welcome timbral variety, it’s harder for them to clarify
complex fugal strands. That
leaves the string quartet, which strikes me as a perfect medium
for the work—especially a performance as committed and
alive as that of the Emerson Quartet. The group’s lean
ensemble sound can sometimes be a detriment in less rigid music,
but it’s an advantage here, along with the quartet’s
razor-sharp timing, precise articulation, strong rhythmic drive,
and clear intent to play this as great music, not as an illustrated
counterpoint treatise. Emerson projects emotional feeling in
the long, final Canon, but never of an anachronistically romanticized
kind. This is playing of real character, every instrument an
equal partner in the climb to the mountaintop, ultimately conveying
the exhilarating purity sought by Bach. Da-Hong
Seeto’s engineering has much to do with the disc’s
success. We audiophiles tend to exaggerate the importance of
unnaturally detailed sound that lets us hear individual voices
in a chorus or the last stand in the second violin section.
But such transparency is critical in a Bach fugue, where we
want to follow each complex instrumental line. Here, we’re
able to hear the piece’s intricacies by following all
the voices, aided by Paul Epstein’s booklet notes explicating
the work, in great detail for Contrapunctus I and brief synopses
for the rest. The
Art of Fugue may not be a disc for casual listening, but
regularly working one or several of these fugues into a listening
session can make Bach’s masterpiece something (as he once
wrote elsewhere) “for music lovers to refresh their spirit.”
Dan Davis |
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R.
Newman: Seabiscuit. Frank Wolf, Bruno Coon, Randy
Newman, producers; Frank Wolf, Armin Steiner, engineers. Decca
B0000772
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CD |
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T.
Newman: Finding Nemo. Thomas Newman, Bill Bernstein,
producers; Tommy Vicari, Armin Steiner, engineers. Walt Disney
Records 60078
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CD |
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Elfman:
The Hulk. Danny Elfman, producer; Robert Fernandez,
Dennis Sands, engineers. Decca B0000633
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CD |
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So far, this has been a grim year
for film music, especially when compared to last year’s
embarrassment of riches. However, whenever the name “Newman”
appears on the credits, there is hope for something interesting.
Randy Newman has become
synonymous with Hollywood’s idea of Americana. At times
he almost seems to be preaching to us with his warm, plangent
chords and simple, diatonic melodies. One cliché follows
another, but many of them were created for film by Newman—Copland
without the jagged edges. If this style works for you, Seabiscuit
will provide a pleasurable experience. If not, you may
need to run to the nearest barf bag. I must admit to a certain
weakness for this stuff. Some critics have attacked the score
as overly sentimental and for being too loud on the soundtrack,
but they are the usual suspects who reject any music that plays
a prominent role in the drama. The orchestra is recorded very
closely, creating larger-than-life instrumental images, limited
dynamic range, and no true concert hall acoustic. But it really
doesn’t matter. This is mood music, not concert music.
As such, it can be played at any volume that suits your purpose.
Finding Nemo is
a lovable little film and an excellent vehicle for Thomas Newman.
In the soundtrack, he utilizes his usual mix of exotic solo
instruments and electronic sounds. We have to marvel at the
charm and inventiveness of this music, which contains just the
right amount of bittersweet emotion and menace. Despite the
presence of 40 cues, the 60-minute soundtrack remains relatively
seamless. There are no memorable melodies, but the score and
its always fascinating orchestration are a lot of fun. It is
also closely miked in the now customary soundtrack fashion,
but bass is outstanding and there is plenty of dynamic contrast.
The Hulk opens
with an ominous motif derived from Danny Elfman’s Batman
theme, and then launches into restless, hyperactive instrumental
configurations and brass crescendos that go nowhere. Percussive
blasts eventually numb the senses without making any significant
emotional impact. There are no substantive contrasting ideas,
despite Director Ang Lee’s attempt to make The Hulk
a complex psychological drama. And even though Elfman uses a
large orchestra, the listener is left with an overriding sense
of electronic gimmickry. Revealingly, the credits list the score
as “composed and produced” by Danny Elfman, with
the help of a conductor and eight orchestrators. What would
Bernard Herrmann think? It
totally fails as a listening experience, but does The Hulk
work as a sound spectacular? (There is ample precedent for audiophile
recordings with limited musical value.) The soundfield is huge
and artificially reverberant, with little dynamic range despite
the loud volume level. Gargantuan instrumental images, now the
norm for pretentious soundtrack recordings designed for boom
boxes, dominate. The engineers succeed in clearly articulating
the pounding drums and presumably synthesized bass with effortless
power. Nevertheless, like his other recent generic action-movie
scores, Spider Man and Planet of the Apes
included, The Hulk makes apparent that Elfman has exhausted
his bag of tricks. Arthur B. Lintgen |
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Mozart:
Eine kleine Nachtmusik. Serenata Notturna. A
Musical Joke. Adagio and Fugue in C minor. Menuet and
Trio in C major. The English Concert; Andrew Manze, director
and violin. Robina G. Young, producer; Brad Michel, engineer.
Hybrid multichannel. Harmonia Mundi 807280 (Sonic rating:
7)
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Hildegard
von Bingen: 11,000 Virgins. Anonymous 4. Robina G.
Young, producer; Brad Michel, engineer. Hybrid multichannel.
Harmonia Mundi 807200 (Sonic rating: 8)
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Harmonia Mundi, recognized for sonic
excellence since the LP era, has released its first SACDs, including
this pair featuring some of the label’s highest-profile
artists.
Andrew Manze became director of The English Concert this past
summer, taking over for Trevor Pinnock, who founded and led
that group so successfully for 30 years. For his debut recording,
Manze presents a satisfying program of Mozart’s “Night
Music” (as this disc is titled). There’s no question
that Manze is a scholarly, historical performance kind of guy
but there’s nothing stiff or unfeeling about these readings—listen
to the yielding quality of Eine kleine Nachtmusik’s
opening Allegro, for instance. Especially fine is when Manze
takes on the role of soloist, as when he leads the quartet-within-the-orchestra
in Serenata Notturna or with the Adagio cantabile movement
of A Musical Joke. In the latter piece, some of the
humor is pretty broad and some is much subtler but the conductor
delivers all of the jokes effectively, transforming Mozart’s
intentionally “bad” compositional technique into
something that’s really quite musically coherent.
There’s a pleasing
dimensionality to the 5.0 multichannel, recorded at London’s
Air Studios—once Lyndhurst Road Chapel. Orchestral sections
are laid out with great clarity. The 24-bit PCM recording delivers
grainless, nonfatiguing string sound. Anonymous
4 has been one of the biggest-selling classical “acts”
for years. For reissue on SACD, HM chose this 1996 recording
featuring music of the Twelfth Century abbess, mystic, writer,
herbalist, and self-taught composer, Hildegard von Bingen. The
program relates to the legend of St. Ursula. Ursula was promised
in marriage to a pagan prince. With the goal of remaining chaste,
she sailed for three years on a ship with 1000 “companion
virgins” and, as the story goes, she was accompanied by
ten other ships, each with a noble virgin and 1000 companions.
(When I do the math, it comes out to 11,011 virgins, but who’s
counting?) When, on her way home, Ursula declined to wed the
Hun, all the women were martyred. This is music that’s
at once austere and extravagant. About 90% is unison chant,
with only occasional moments of polyphony, but it’s totally
absorbing nonetheless. Anonymous 4, with its original line-up,
is in absolutely top form. The vocal blend is flawless as the
quartet negotiates the idiosyncratic contours of Hildegard’s
chant. The surround
version is a natural representation of the sort of moderately
reverberant acoustic the group favors for its concerts. A4’s
voices are surrounded by a fine halo of reverberation that doesn’t
at all obscure the dynamic nuances of the performances. The
stereo SACD program—and the CD layer—are quite good
at giving an impression of the space in which the recording
was made, the Campion Center in Weston, Massachusetts. But the
multichannel provides the sound that’s present in the
air between the singers and the listening position. It’s
magic. Andrew Quint  |
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