So much of modern music springs from Schoenberg that
groups specialising in modern music are almost compelled to use him
as a touchstone. Simon Rattle and the Birmingham Contemporary Music
Group did it with the Chamber Symphonies early in their existence, and
the Swedish group Ma open their discography with the craziest work of
them all, Pierrot Lunaire.
It is a version I have a few problems with. Firstly,
so dry is the recording acoustic (perhaps in an over-zealous search
for clarity) that it sounds as if it has been recorded in a particularly
horrible practice room. It does the violin, in particular, no favours,
and is a constant deadening effect on this disc. The second is the approach
of the reciter, Ing-Britt Ibba Andersson. Sprechstimme is not an exact
science, but my taste prefers a bit more sprech than she offers – there
is a fair sit of singing in her approach. I am reluctant to criticise
too much on the grounds of personal taste, especially as Ibba Andersson
has a good feeling for cabaret, and she is always involving and dramatic.
The overall approach verges on the cool, and although the playing is
not at all bad, this version is very much in the shadow of the recent
version with Pierre Boulez and Christine Schäfer.
The rest of the disc is more interesting. Two works
here by Chrichan Larson, cellist in the ensemble, particularly caught
my attention. Both show an imaginative use of sound, and a talent for
unfolding an interesting and engaging dialogue. Väsen is particularly
interesting, using a prepared piano to underline moments of tension,
although I am not so sure the gurgling bass clarinet interlude in the
manner of a pig was strictly necessary. Cordes at Tuyau is a more conventional
clarinet trio.
Two more "standards" finish the disc, a masterful
quartet by Anton Webern, and a chamber work that shows what beautiful
music Pierre Boulez can write whenever he gets around to it. I always
find it ironic that for a composer who places such a premium on the
quality of musical material, he has written such magnificent chamber
music from inconsequential cells suggested by arbitrary, non-musical
impulses. This Derive, written to commission, uses the letters from
the name Paul Sacher, but its gorgeous soundworld and compulsive working
out make it very obviously a piece of the highest quality. The performance
here is equally compulsive.
Aidan Twomey