Further details:
http://users.senet.com.au/~flute/fp3.htm
This is the second
disc featuring the flautist Zdenek Bruderhans
to come my way recently. Having welcomed
his disc of four twentieth century flute
concertos including ones by Jolivet
and Vieru, I find that this present
release makes a good partner as both
composers also feature here.
The programme opens
with a trio of major works that should
be in any professional flautist’s repertoire.
Indeed, it’s hard to imagine any collection
of solo music for the instrument not
including either the Debussy or Varèse
pieces. Syrinx is beguilingly
played by Bruderhans, bringing out much
of the mystery that Debussy suggests
in his writing. Danse de la chèvre
has a suitably pastoral feel to it,
particularly in the opening. Later Bruderhans
brings the jumping chamois effortlessly
to life with his spirited up-tempo playing.
Mountain air swirls softly at the close.
Varèse’s Density 21.5
makes rather stronger demands on the
soloist, both technically and in terms
of the expressive results that are desired.
Written at the behest of flautist Georges
Barrère to inaugurate his platinum
flute the brief piece fuses notions
of material density with the key intervals
within the precision of its title. A
performance though should suggest also
something about the insubstantiality
of human breath, without which the flute
cannot make music. Bruderhans highlights
this essential aspect in his playing
by having the recording capture just
enough breath behind the notes and registering
the subtle changes in tone from the
seductive to the demonstrative that
his instrument is capable of producing.
Jolivet’s Cinq Incantations
is also a work that relies to a large
extent on capturing nuances of playing
– overblowing frequently figures in
the first incantation, insistent fluttered
rhythms in the second incantation. An
ethereal flow to the third movement
reminds one in part of Debussy’s Syrinx
with a similar mood evident in the fourth
incantation also, though in a lower
register on the instrument. The final
movement’s distinct rhythmic patterning
brings home the composer’s preoccupation
with primordial incantations. Ritual
of a kind can be readily imagined to
accompany Bruderhans’ vividly characterised
playing.
Hindemith’s Eight
Pieces can be thought of as little
more than haikus for the flute. More
correctly though they form a mini suite
for the instrument, and during its course
range and expressive mood is explored
with surprising insight. Moving quickly
from one to another the listener is
invited to form contrasts and links
between the items. Bruderhans proves
a most persuasive advocate in that he
draws matter-of-factness, humour, inward
reflection, even grandeur – albeit on
a small scale – from them.
Larry Sitsky is an
Australian composer new to me. The sonata
starts with a soulful lied that
nonetheless has dashes of passion in
the writing, before progressing to a
mystic interlude, the character
of which eludes being pinned down for
much of the time. The third movement,
a theme and five variations on
a Slovak folk song, shifts character
swiftly and often to test the manual
dexterity and breathing capabilities
of the flautist. The closing movement,
Perpetual Motion, is a brief
study in edgy unrest as the time signatures
fluctuate back and forth. With a pithy
final flourish the work ends.
Berio’s Sequenza
I is without doubt the other seminal
work included here to have a place in
any flautist’s solo repertoire. Built
on semitone clusters placed throughout
the instrument’s range, Bruderhans finds
a less aggressive tone than some soloists
in his playing. In my view the piece
is all the more effective for it, as
he can then explore nuances of dynamic
and shading with natural ease. The recording
captures the action of the flutes keys
without undue attention, as it does
every inference of light and shade or
reduced scale that find its way into
his playing.
Anatol Vieru’s Rezonante
Bacovia in some senses might be
thought of starting where Berio’s Sequenza
finishes, as both works explore
new sonorities and playing techniques
for the flute. Vieru, unlike Berio,
has the flautist play in conjunction
with a tape that acts as the soloist’s
"shadow". By way of a description
the composer said, "Bacovia – a
great Romanian poet – communicates with
the universe and mortals in the name
of solitude and infinite grief."
The work’s rondo form employs a variety
of devices and techniques – among them
the influence of Romanian folk music,
simultaneous playing and singing from
the soloist, and the imitation of a
shepherd’s pipe – to suggest an idea
that is not bounded by time or space.
The tape’s contribution, particularly
noticeable in the last third of the
piece, lends an air of dislocation to
the experience. Vieru’s piece is given
strong advocacy by Bruderhans to end
this absorbing recital.
This is a well-recorded
disc that showcases the talents of a
highly accomplished flautist. That the
repertoire ranges from the seminal to
some equally interesting lesser-known
works only adds to the overall appeal.
Evan Dickerson