This
is a very attractive bargain. Berio’s Sequenza series,
made up of works written over a period of more than thirty
years, contains some of the most inventive solo music of
the twentieth and (just) twenty-first centuries. Several
of the individual compositions served to redefine the technical – and
aesthetic – possibilities of the relevant instruments. It
is in the nature of things that no one ‘complete’ recording
is ever likely to include the ‘best’ recording of each item.
But, given that there is no performance here which comes
at all close to being an inadequate representation of the
music, and that there are some quite outstanding performances,
this set, with the added advantage of the Naxos price, deserves
a place on the shelves of anyone with an interest in modern
music.
Anne
Ozorio is undoubtedly correct in saying that the 4 CD set
of The
Complete Sequenzas, Alternate Sequenzas on Mode (MODE
161/3 - see review) constitutes
the most complete and, in many respects, the most brilliant
collection of this
music.
I’ll
take that as read and rather than undertake any kind of detailed
comparison, I will concentrate on the considerable merits
of this 3 CD set from Naxos.
Each
of these pieces is a kind of miniature musical drama, an
extended soliloquy which explores tones and emotions in terms
of the particular resources – and not, of course the merely
expected or conventional resources – of an individual instrument.
The moods are various, though all share an intensity of focus
which allows for both subtlety of detail and, at times, some
long unconventionally melodic lines.
Some
of the performances here need fear little comparison with
any others. Ken Munday’s work in no. XII for bassoon is wonderfully
virtuosic, circular-breathing and all. To say that in Sequenza
III Tony Arnold balances passion and control, the histrionically
excessive and the intimately breathy, with a sureness of
touch that Cathy Berberian would have been proud of is, of
course, to praise her very highly. Boris Berman gives an
intelligent and thoughtful, even careful, but very persuasive,
performance of Sequenza IV. His, though, is one of
the performances which suffers a little from the over resonant
acoustic of the recorded sound.
Virtually
every one of these compositions is both a rewriting of its
instrument’s past, a performative analysis of the way it
has previously been played, with plenty of musical allusions
to that history, and a kind of projection of a possible future
for the instrument. So, for example, Sequenza VIIa for
oboe, written for Heinz Holliger, more than glances at the
instrument’s traditions but also finds room for some richly
guttural passage-work which makes for startlingly beautiful
contrasts and gives to the oboe a fully humanised fully vocal
quality it has not often had. Sequenza I, for flute
(written for Severino Gazzelloni, 1919-1992), is at times
elegantly graceful, at times like some sort of Messiaenic
birdsong and at times like an improvisation by Eric Dolphy.
Sequenza
X for trumpet in C and pianoresonance is perhaps a little self-indulgent;
one feels that its points could have been made a great
deal more economically. However Sequenza XI for
guitar (written for Eliot Fisk) is wittily allusive in
the way it draws on the range of musical idioms associated
with the instrument; what I can only describe as its cubist ‘take’ on
flamenco is a minor masterpiece. Sequenza XIII is
a joy, perhaps an unexpected joy for those of us not always
enamoured of the accordion. It carries the subtitle ‘Chanson’ and
certainly there is much here that relates to the popular
French traditions of the instrument and to other European
folk traditions; but all such material is reflected, as
it were, in a musical mirror which is both distorting and
revelatory. Other pieces, such as Sequenza V, for
trombone, are perhaps more familiar – but even the least
familiar of these compositions has a wealth of invention
and idea to offer. It is good, too, to have the saxophone
versions of the pieces for oboe and clarinet, especially
when played with the suavity which Wallace Halladay brings
to them.
Some
of the recordings by the original dedicatees of the individual
pieces, and some of the recordings on Mode bring to the music
a degree of insight and technical sophistication not quite
matched by the Canadian performers here. But that shouldn’t
put off any potential purchaser of this Naxos collection.
This is not just a cheap alternative; it is an interesting,
accomplished and rewarding collection, even if not quite
as remarkable as the collection on Mode or as ‘authoritative’ as
the original recordings on Deutsche Grammophon, and which
happens to be a great deal less expensive. To be able to
buy this collection for more or less the cost of a single
full-price CD is a real privilege and opportunity. If you
can afford the set on Mode as well, fine. If not, this Naxos
set will give you rewarding and enthralling access to very
good performances of some of the most remarkable music of
our time.
Glyn Pursglove
see also review by Hubert Culot
Nora Shulman
(flute); Erica Goodman (harp); Tony Arnold (soprano); Boris
Berman (piano); Alain Trudel (trombone); Steven Dann
(viola); Matej Šarc (oboe); Jasper Wood (violin); Joaquin
Valdepeńas (clarinet); Guy Few (trumpet); Pablo Sáinz Villegas
(guitar); Ken Munday (bassoon); Joseph Petric (accordion);
Darrett Adkins (cello); Wallace Halladay (saxophones) 
