Pinchas Zukerman: Complete Recordings on Deutsche Grammophon and Philips

Violinist, violist, and conductor Pinchas Zukerman is close to 70 years old, but shows no signs of slowing down. Or wanting to do so. When I chatted with him for this feature, he was set to perform with his longtime musical partner, Itzhak Perlman, and head to the Berkshire Hills and Tanglewood to speak to several thousand people of the importance of music in one’s life. The Deutsche Grammophon label (which is part of Universal Classics, and therefore owns several labels), has a broad-ranging release of 22 CDs that Zukerman made between the mid 1970s and the 1990s. As All Classical’s music director, and an employee here since the station’s founding in 1983, I’m familiar with nearly every recording. As I learned in talking with Mr. Zukerman, I may be more familiar with his CDs than he is! But that’s understandable: the ever-busy musician says while he remembers many of the recordings, he won’t be “staring out the window” reminiscing about them, because there’s still so much music making to do. Mr. Zukerman says of the role of music in his life: “I am born to make music. Music is my motive since I was five years old, it gives me energy, emotion, everything.” This collection gives nearly everything that a fan of this musician, who has 5 decades of performance already racked up, could hope for. In my conversation, you’ll hear selections of Cesar Franck’s Sonata in A; Vivaldi’s “Spring” concerto; a viola sonata by Brahms; Mr. Zukerman conducting horn soloist Hermann Baumann and the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra; and partnering with a then 10-year-old Midori. A collection that serves as a document of one man’s contributions to music, and to our lives.

Pinchas Zukerman: Complete Recordings on DG, Decca, & Philips
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Cypress Quartet comes full circle (Beethoven Opus 18 Quartets)

When I started interviewing musicians for my audio blog, violinist Tom Stone and cellist Jennifer Kloetzel were among my earliest guests, talking about their recording of Beethoven’s late quartets. Both are back to share their thoughts about their third and final installment: Beethoven’s Opus 18 quartets. Known as “early Beethoven”, the composer seems to be stating right from the first bars of Quartet No. 1, that he has something new to say. Cypress Quartet’s performance illustrates the wide range of emotions expressed by the composer, who at the time of this work had not yet experienced the life-changing effect of deafness. You’ll find a vivacious, optimistic, outgoing young man who could also share intimate thoughts through his writing. This recording was released just a few weeks before the quartet disbanded, so there is a poignancy felt as well in listening through these 6 works, but I can sense also that the individual members still have much they want to say in the world of music.

Player Piano Rolls: Listening to History

When we tune in to All Classical, we barely pause to consider that, with the exception of live-streaming concerts, most of the music we hear has been recorded. Thanks to the innovations of recording technology from the twentieth- and twenty-first century, we can hear musical moments captured and preserved in time. Performance before wax cylinders, tapes, or CDs is frustratingly forever out of our hearing range, but early recordings from the 1900s can tell us a lot about what and how musicians played. What did performance sound like 100 years ago? And what can we learn from it?

On Friday, June 19, 2016 Stanford researcher Kumaran Arul addressed a unique perspective to these questions in a lecture titled “Player Piano Rolls.” This event was part of the larger Portland Piano International Summer Festival, an annual week-long event at Lewis & Clark College. During the course of the festival, musicians—including scholars, performing artists, composers, and teachers—attended a variety of lectures, workshops, and concerts. The festival’s focus this year is “The Golden Age of Piano,” which “[pays] tribute to… the period between 1870 and 1930.”

Arul’s lecture discussed the importance of player piano rolls during the Golden Age and emphasized how we can learn about piano performance practice of the late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century. But first, what were these rolls, and what did they do? Player piano rolls are the sheet music equivalent for the player piano, an instrument that in its most basic form functions like a music box in the size and shape of a piano, producing music mechanically. A person places a roll inside the instrument and sits on a bench to operate pedals, which pump air to power the interior pneumatics. As the roll unfurls, air passes through tiny, carefully placed holes in the paper to activate individual notes on the piano. The person does not need to touch the keys; instead, the player piano “reads” the roll and plays the notes on its own.

The player piano rolls that most fascinate Arul are those that have actually recorded pianists’ performances. The reproducing piano is a more technically advanced version of the basic player piano and recorded the notes (and in some cases, the dynamics and shadings) of a piano performance by marking the activated keys on a blank roll inside the piano. The Welte Company, located in southern Germany, manufactured instruments to record pianists as early as 1905: for example, distinguished musician Carl Reinecke playing Beethoven’s Ecossaise in E-flat.

Women also recorded for the reproducing piano, though not as frequently. Here, pianist Fannie Bloomfield-Zeisler records for Welte in August 1906, Freiburg.

What is so important about piano rolls today? Rolls, according to Arul, are a “goldmine” for historic discovery and explanation regarding piano performance practice. They have recorded high-quality and nuanced piano performances when the gramophone, still in its early years, could only capture fuzzy, vague acoustic sounds. Many famous composers from around the world played their own works for the reproducing piano: Edvard Grieg, 1906 in Leipzig; Alexander Scriabin, 1910 in Moscow; Gabriel Fauré, c. 1913 in Paris; Nikolai Medtner, c. 1925 in New York.

In these recordings, rolls reveal historic trends in performance style and technique. Arul points out that we can hear improvisational liberties in contrast to today’s strict fidelity to a musical text: in a “wonderfully creative moment,” Rachmaninoff takes an inventive spin on Chopin’s jaunty Minute Waltz.* We can also hear how composers played (and arranged) their own compositions: consider George Gershwin’s arrangement of his Rhapsody in Blue, originally scored for solo piano and jazz band. We can even get insight into musicians who lived before the player piano’s time by listening to recordings of their students; consider Stavenhagen playing Hungarian Rhapsody, composed by his teacher Franz Liszt.

Beyond the music itself, the roll production process can also teach us about evolving recording practices. Much like audio recordings today, player piano rolls were editable, meaning that notes could be added or subtracted at the performer’s or editor’s will. On the earliest recordings, like the Reinecke mentioned earlier, the roll was left untouched, mistakes and all. However, as the technology improved, editors were able to go back and change the notes recorded on the paper, erasing a note here, adding a note there. Accomplished player Paderewski famously requested of roll editors, “I do not play these passages evenly, can you even them out for me?” Performers increasingly desired perfection and precision over improvisational whims, perhaps because recordings could transform ephemeral moments into permanent and physical objects.

These insights extend beyond the realm of player piano rolls. Whenever we listen to a tape, record, CD, radio or internet stream, we hear music from the past that is encoded with a unique historical context. The next time you listen to recorded music, whether from 1906 or 2016, imagine the performance and recording process… and how will it compare to recordings in 2116, 100 years from now?

***

*I was unable to find the recording that Arul played during the lecture, so please note that this particular recording was done live for the gramophone and is not a piano roll. We can hope that Rachmaninoff performed similarly for the reproducing piano.

***

Interested in the player piano’s history and development? Read more about Player Pianos and Reproducing Pianos.

The Portland Piano International Summer Festival is an annual event in Portland, OR.

Kumaran Arul is currently at Stanford University, where he and other researchers are working on the Player Piano Project to study the player piano and its connection to performance history.

The Rise and Fall of the Marquam Grand: a tragedy

This is my second week in Portland, and already I am intrigued by the city’s vibrant music culture and its history. While searching to learn more about the city’s central musical sites, I discovered the story of the Marquam Building…

Like many great operas, this story opens with a glorious and stunning entrance and closes with only the most spectacular of tragedies. Set the scene in Portland, Oregon in January 1890. As the glow and sparkle of New Year’s celebrations fade, Portland shifts its attention and anticipation to a new beginning. A crowd gathers on the corner of Morrison Street between 6th and 7th Avenues in the early morning of January 28, “an unusual thing,” reports the Morning Oregonian, “to see a line of staid and sober citizens waiting for a business house to open as early as 6 o’clock in the morning.” Dollars in hand, they steal glances up through the grey fog at the newly-constructed towering brick building. We cue the overture, and the curtain rises.

The Marquam Building, an early Portland skyscraper, is the title character of this operatic story. Fitting, that it also housed Portland’s first opera house, the Marquam Grand Opera (renamed the Orpheum Theater in 1908) from 1890 until 1912. The wealthy judge and lifelong Portland resident Philip A. Marquam oversaw its construction. It stood an impressive eight stories tall at 335 Morrison Street, currently 621 SW Morrison. Considered the finest theater on the West coast, it attracted many musical celebrities, including nationally recognized Emma Juch and her English Opera Company, over the course of its brief 22 years.

The eagerly anticipated opening was delayed due to the late arrival of 1000 chairs, but the throngs that formed outside the Marquam in the early mornings to purchase their $1 or $2 tickets had to wait only a week. The opera finally hosted its premiere show on February 10, 1890: Gounod’s Faust. The show itself could not have upstaged the long-awaited unveiling of the interior of the theater. “The electric lights, 800 in number, will be in full blast,” promised the Morning Oregonian, and “[the audience] will be fully compensated for their first disappointment by the dazzling display of beauty and elegance which will greet their eyes.” Blue and amber drapes adorned the walls, an impressive 1,442 seats filled the floor, and for a hefty $15 or $20, audience members could have the luxury of watching from domed boxes. House rules were strict: visible signage inside the theater prohibited catcalls, whistling, and stomping of feet, and a bouncer enforced these policies. The opera, with its ornate splendor, large audience capacity, professional music, and frequent shows, was to become the core of the new commercial downtown center of the growing city.

The Marquam Grand Opera was certainly the star of this turn-of-the-century show: “It is a handsome nine-story structure, built of modern brick and steel, fireproof throughout and tastefully ornamented with stone.” Handsome, indeed, but this testimony written in 1911 could not predict the catastrophe that was about to (quite literally) fall the following year.

It was an early dawn in November 1912, reminiscent of our opening scene but without the quiet anticipation of an attentive crowd; in fact, no one was expecting the impending disaster. At 4 AM, three lower (and thankfully, empty) floors of the Marquam Building collapsed without warning. The few people in the building quickly evacuated before the second crash at 11 AM, when the remaining floors succumbed to an identical fate. Luckily, there were no injuries, but the imposingly grand Marquam Building now lay across Morrison Street in scattered, irreparable pieces.

There were rumors and contemplations over rebuilding the Marquam Building, but city officials left the plans unfinished and never commenced the reconstruction. The Orpheum company eventually moved the opera to the nearby Bungalow Theater (currently the site of the downtown Nordstrom) to continue their shows in a new building, but the Marquam Grand had delivered its final closing lines. The orchestra sustains, and the curtain falls.

***

For more information about the Marquam Building, check out the following links:
“Opening Night” and “Wreck of the Marquam Grand” – blog entries by Portland historian Dan Haneckow
“Throngs Gaze As Brick Walls Fall” – article in the Morning Oregonian, November 22, 1912

Interested in some of the operas that were heard at the Marquam Grand? During the opening week, Emma Juch starred in these shows:
Faust (Gounod)
Carmen (Bizet)
Der Freischütz (Wagner)

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Bibliography – Marquam Grand

Q & A with the Intern: Interviewing the Hosts

Prologue

It is common knowledge that a good performer makes their work appear seamless. There are no cracks through which information about their influences, skills, and technique pours out. Although some audiences consider it a privilege to crack open a performer and examine the rivers which course through their art, it is usually the case that performers contain these sources within their work, rendering them invisible to the audience’s eye. It is also the case that performers are uninterested in their artistic sources. This perspective is at play when JK Rowling wonders why adults always ask where her ideas come from, effectively criticizing their inability to fathom the imaginative leaps she makes to create the HP world. Basquiat shares this sentiment in Schnabel’s film Basquiat when he frames a question about his artistic choices as dubious: “Was Miles asked where he got his notes from?” I believe that these questions should continue to be posed despite its censure. This is even possible without seeming inane or intrusive. At All Classical Portland, it is necessary to expose the backstage for audiences and involve them in the space and its processes because All Classical Portland aims to create music which its listeners believe in and love.

Thus, with peace of mind, I have asked three staff members at All Classical Portland what shapes their performances at the station. I am specifically curious to know about the keys which unlock their work, such as beliefs/skills/processes, so that listeners can become better acquainted with the parts and players which keep All Classical Portland running. The interviews which follow as well as my experiences as an intern at All Classical Portland have demonstrated that performers don’t always have to be distant.

Opening Conversations at the Booth
with Robert McBride

Z.A: Are there any conceptualizations you have made in your time as an on-air host which underlies your job and the way you work?

R.M: I think of presenting classical music on the radio more as the means than the end. What we’re really doing is trying to enhance the lives of those who listen to us, with music, information, and companionship. The shared, real-time listening experience, by thousands of people around the world, is particularly intriguing to me: most of those people will never have any kind of contact with each other, by they are, nevertheless, a community created by shared interests. The hosts are members of that community and facilitators of that experience.

Z.A: Do listeners know they’re experiencing music in a community and should they? Do you envision a listener on their own or in community, and which do you work for?

RM: It would vary. Extroverts might be more likely to think of themselves as sharing the listening experience with others, but introverts might prefer to feel like they’re having a more intimate, or even private, experience. I/we need to serve both kinds of listeners and be aware of their needs, preferences, and experiences. There are different kinds of listening experiences every day: someone alone in their car, someone else with a group at a dinner party, etc. Certainly the more we refer to different situations or different time zones, the more the listeners will be aware of them and perhaps feel some kind of connection or virtual community.

Z.A: What do you prioritize in your presentation of music? Is companionship more important than historically contextualizing music?

R.M: I think companionship is more important, though I didn’t use to see it that way, when I started way back in the previous century.

Z.A: As the voice which introduces music and the first voice to be heard at the close of music, you may be embedded in listeners’ impressions of music. Do you feel that your position as a facilitator of musical experiences changes? If so, what do you do to offset your omnipresence?

RM: I don’t want to be thought of as omnipresent! I try to avoid that by not talking too much and by varying that constantly: some of my voice breaks will be longer than others, and the occasional really short one helps to keep things moving and keep the emphasis on the music.

This desire he expresses above, to open Western classical music to listeners in different geographical, social, and psychological situations, is evident in his weekly, live broadcast. It has been my pleasure to help set up Thursdays @ Three as I could see his beliefs in action. He made sure all parties were informed about how the broadcast would proceed–performers were given a chance to OK interviews before the broadcast and audience members learned what his gestures for applause and holding for applause looked like–thereby putting everyone at ease and creating an environment where joy and spontaneity were possible.

The Playlist
with John Pitman

Z.A: How do you understand your work as a music programmer at All Classical Portland?

JP: I’m part of what we call our Programming Team. It comprises myself, as music director, as well as John Burk, VP of Programming, and Suzanne Nance, Program Director. Each has different roles and tasks to perform, but we all have the same objective: to create fresh, vibrant, compelling and relevant programming with classical music. The latest CDs are sent to me to audition, and either add directly to the playlist, or share with John and Suzanne to give me their perspectives before adding to our mix. My main work, though, is crafting each day’s music log for the hosts to share with listeners. This occupies a large portion of my week: carefully listening to, and crafting, the sequence of music that is heard from 12am to 11:59pm each day of the year.

Z.A: Are there any conceptualizations you have made in your time as a programmer which underlie your job and the way you work?

JP: Mr. Burk and I, primarily, laid the foundation of the music programming some time ago, which comprises all of the standard repertoire, along with neglected gems, and pieces written by today’s composers which enhance our “sound”. I start each day’s programming with the music that is currently available to use: there is library software that helps me – and all of the hosts when they search for pieces – that prevents us from duplicating our own, previous days’ programs. This ensures the freshest selection of pieces, and avoids overplaying of any piece in our playlist. We also program music according to its energy level (think Barber’s Adagio versus a Sousa march), and keep certain pieces from appearing at select times of day or night. This helps to create the appropriate sound to accompany listeners’ activities. There’s more, of course, but we don’t want to give away too many of our secrets! It might spoil the magic.

Z.A: Do you have to establish the station’s sound every day?

JP: I don’t have to establish the station’s sound, so much as sustain it. A longstanding familiarity with the program department’s vision and mission ensures consistent quality. The software I mentioned helps me make sure that our overall vision for how the station should sound, remains consistent from day to day.

Z.A: Is there a hierarchy among the music that comprises the station’s sound? For example, do you prioritize standard rep over new music and play it more?

JP: We make sure that we meet our listeners’ expectations, by maintaining a good balance between the standard repertoire, and newer works or less-familiar pieces from past eras. Some pieces that we’ve incorporated into our programming have turned up on orchestral concerts over the years, so we seem to be making a good impression! If either type of music (favorites/unfamiliar) are played too often, listeners notice. They might say that we’re not digging too deeply, while other listeners might perceive that we’re neglecting the masters. It takes great care and attention to what’s being played to make sure it all stays fresh.

Z.A: In order to program relevant content, do you solicit listener’s feedback and program in light of it? Is listener satisfaction and enjoyment, which you call your end goal, possible without addressing listeners’ requests?

JP: We find that we don’t need to solicit listener feedback, as the passionate classical music fans discover pieces on their own, and then simply get in touch with us. They might do that via our Saturday request program, our annual Classical Countdown (in December), or simply sending us an e-mail. I’ve been introduced to some wonderful pieces that we’ve subsequently added to our playlist.

Z.A: What skills/traits/processes are necessary for music programming?

J.P: First of all, a deep knowledge of, and appreciation for, the art form (classical music). Knowing the music (pieces, or compositions) well, and on an intimate level, ensures the highest level of quality for the listening experience. It takes a long time, of course, and objectivity can be a challenge. We strive to present the music according to long-agreed decisions about what constitutes great music; along with that, our subjective sides inform us how to make critical decisions of what pieces should be added to the standard repertoire. Another trait is identifying when is the right time to play a piece. Not just time of day, but time of week, or year. Finally, I would say, passion for this music determines the end result that we’re working toward. Consistent listener satisfaction and enjoyment.

Negotiating Conversations at the Mixing Board
with Andrea Murray

Z.A: How do you understand your work as a producer?

A.M: My work involves weaving sound and text and music to say something that, ideally, is worth hearing – whether it’s an artist interview, a reported feature or even a promotional message. I try to set a high technical and aesthetic standard for everything I do here. Still, I’ll be the first to admit slick production can never compensate for poor writing or dull ideas.

Z.A: What skill or trait do you feel is necessary for production?

A.M: Anyone can learn the basics of audio software in a couple of hours. But it takes years of being attentive to sound, of really listening, to know what to do with it. Having a background in music really helps.

Z.A: Are there any conceptualizations you have made in your time as a producer which underlies your job and the way you work?

A.M: Here are some ideas that have been passed on to me over the years: Pay attention; Give people space to tell their own stories; Show up with your record running; It’s not about you, but you have to be fully present; Having a microphone grants you a kind of access not everyone has, so use it for the benefit of others whenever possible; There’s nothing wrong with a little ear candy once in a while. You’re an invited guest in people’s homes/headphones – try to be good company.

Off-script: I have learned from Andrea Murray that production is also like stage management. As such, duties include controlling the spotlights on speakers (“actors) and segments (“scenes”) so that (1) the conversation between the speakers is clear without their tendencies as a pairing (to be amicable, adversarial) or as individuals (to respond loudly, to trail off) to get in the way, (2) the progression between segments is smooth and seems to constitute a natural progression in the show, and (3) a back, mid, and fore-ground is established without the listener having to prioritize what to listen to.

Another way I have envisioned the role of a producer is that it is like emceeing. Just as an MC understands that there is a lot of activity during the event they guide and therefore speaks efficiently and interestingly, a producer also realizes that listeners tune in during other activities. Therefore, producers unearth from audio a script which has a through line. That way, every listener, from the attentive to the distracted, can follow along at every point in the show. Andrea did suggest stick shift driving as a comparison, but I don’t know how to drive. Perhaps there are learned and skilled readers out there who can benefit from this comparison.

Epilogue

Although the interviewees may not agree with me that they are performers, I believe that their commitment to their work, demonstrated in their answers and on a daily basis, should prove them wrong. I have thoroughly enjoyed watching them in action and wish the station continue success. Break a leg!

Prodigy, genius, legend: The Menuhin Century

2016 marks the 100th anniversary of the birth of Yehudi Menuhin, truly one of music’s most international figures. He was also one of those people who seem to have been born at just the right time in history. It was the dawn of the age of recorded music, and Menuhin started his relationship with recordings at a very young age: he was eleven when he began recording his performances. Decades later, he transitioned to conducting, and made several fine recordings which continue to be a part of All Classical Portland’s playlist today.

In my recorded feature, you’ll not only hear Menuhin as a teenager, and as an adult who played with great feeling (especially in slow movements), but also his voice, as the violinist could speak at least three languages: English, French and German. He was well attuned to his times, and to developing technology in the field of recorded music. And he saw so much change in his life: two world wars, the Cold War, and the fall of the Berlin wall in 1989. In fact, Menuhin died in Berlin, in 1999, as he was preparing to conduct a concert there. The Menuhin Century could be considered not only a document of a remarkable man’s life, but also a document of a tumultuous period of human history. Through it all, Menuhin said he was “constantly thinking of ways and means to improve, alleviate, protect, guide and inspire in practical terms.” This humanitarian achieved that not only for the sake of music, but for humankind.

Cabaret Songs and Satire from Theresienstadt

In recent decades, many recordings, resulting from research, have brought to light the music composed and performed at Theresienstadt (now Terezin), the World War II concentration camp to which thousands of Jews were deported, as part of the systematized process of ultimately transporting them to death camps. Many perished, either at Theresienstadt or at their final destinations, but their music and artwork survived. So far, we have recordings of chamber and piano music, and songs, and even orchestral works, but what completes the representation of this place and the experience of the prisoners there, is the uniquely European form of entertainment known as Cabaret. This new recording, the result of over 20 years of work, research and performance, brings this almost incongruous musical style to light.

I had the privilege of speaking with composer and pianist, Sergei Dreznin. Dreznin, along with Gerhard Bronner, compiled complete songs and texts written in Theresienstadt and, where there were missing elements, composed music in the style of the time. Listening to these songs created in my mind a vivid image of what it must have been like to be in a darkened space, and to hear these lyrics sung for people who, as Mr. Dreznin put it, found a way to celebrate life, art, and to be able to “laugh at themselves, and their executioners.” It was a moving experience talking with Mr. Dreznin about what these people endured, and along the way, my guest shares his own stories, and even a little playing right from the piano. We also share some highlights from this new CD.

Kamp Songs and Satire From Theresienstadt
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Rachel Barton Pine: Testament (Complete Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin)

Any serious violinist is going to be well-acquainted with the unaccompanied works of Johann Sebastian Bach. Several violinists have taken on these seminal, almost mystical works, in recordings. Rachel Barton Pine brings not only the artistic sensitivity and talent to these six pieces, but also great credentials: She’s the only American Gold Medalist of the J.S. Bach International Violin Competition in Leipzig. Pine’s meticulous details (bowing, articulation, etc.) will appear in a major new book about the sonatas and partitas by Carl Fischer. Her newest CD, “Testament” (Avie Records) displays Pine’s deep knowledge of the score, and her ability to express her own personality through the music.

Ms. Pine has made a lifelong study of Bach’s manuscript and, for context, the great composer’s contemporaries who wrote music for unaccompanied violin. Until Brahms’ friend, the violinist Joseph Joachim, made the case for these 6 suites to be played publicly, they were thought of as “didactic exercises”, as Rachel explains in my recorded conversation. We also talk about her recent visit to Portland (via the Friends of Chamber Music), and her live appearance on our own Thursdays @ Three

As well as Rachel’s love of so many other styles, including Scottish fiddle and heavy metal (Rachel cites a recent London study that showed that classical music listeners and heavy metal fans have much in common: deep knowledge of their respective genre, and great passion for the music. A “testament” which Ms. Pine will readily proclaim.

Testament: Complete Sonatas & Partitas for Solo Violin by J. S. Bach
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Hélène Grimaud’s new CD, Water. An elemental expression.

Pianist Hélène Grimaud, known almost equally for her environmental concerns as her tremendous musical talent, brings both areas of interest together in her new CD, Water (Deutsche Grammophon), the result of a collaboration with composer and producer, Nitin Sawney. Ms. Grimaud, who founded the Wolf Conservation Center in New York in 1996, hopes that people think about the earth’s precious resource, which in many parts of the world is extremely difficult to obtain for millions of people. In my conversation with the French pianist, Ms. Grimaud tells me that her starting point, however, was purely musical: Why have so many composers been drawn to water as a source of inspiration? Water has the power to both give – and take – life, if one considers that it can be as ethereal as mist or clouds, to rivers and oceans. Grimaud says she had to work hard to pare dozens of favorite pieces down to a manageable program that touches on many aspects of water in music.

The “transitions” created by Sawney, who is well-known around the world for his ability to collaborate with musicians of many different genres, bridge the realm of classical music to the present day, and the world of this art form to the rhythms of the earth (and water). I enjoyed the transitions, as they create this sense of calm and, at the same time, progression through the hour of piano music. Hélène Grimaud’s choice of pieces come from French composers (particularly inspired by water, it seems), such as Debussy, Ravel and Fauré; to 20^th century greats such as Toru Takemitsu, Leoš Janáček, and Isaac Albéniz. My favorite discovery, thanks to Grimaud, is Luciano Berio’s “Wasserklavier” (Water Piano), which sets the perfect tone for the music to follow. The CD concludes with Debussy’s powerful prelude, La Cathédrale engloutie (The Engulfed Cathedral), inspired by a legend of a cathedral that, once a year, emerges from the depths of the ocean, to appear only briefly, before submerging again. Keep that image in your mind as you listen to Ms. Grimaud’s performance. Water, like music, can exist for only a moment before disappearing, and so both must be treasured.

Hélène Grimaud – Water
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The Cello Suites According to Anna Magdalena, and Matt Haimovitz

I recently had the pleasure of speaking with Matt Haimovitz, the American cellist who garnered a lot of attention fifteen years ago, when he performed in “unusual” venues, including brew pubs and rock clubs. This was ground-breaking stuff back then; now it seems less surprising to see a cadre of bass-instrument players strike bow to string, as people sip nitro coffee or micro-distilled beers. Now Matt is starting a new revolution: returning to the score regarded as closest to Bach’s now-lost manuscript: the copy by his second wife, Anna Magdalena Bach. Matt also picks up the five-string violoncello piccolo for the Sixth Suite, the instrument for which that suite was intended.

You’ll hear how the instruments sound, as well as Matt’s fresh interpretation of them, in my conversation with the cellist.

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