I first heard the
multi-talented Christian Lindberg
as the trombonist in the BIS recording
of Kalevi Aho’s Symphony No.9,
which also forms part of this compilation.
(For a detailed review of this work
see my Aho
survey.) In Arabenne Lindberg
is composer, conductor and
soloist; he has combined the first
two roles since, most notably in the
BIS recording of his haunting piece,
The World of Montuagretta (see
review).
Not surprisingly,
Arabenne is a highly virtuosic
work. In his liner-notes Lindberg
says the idea was that he and the
Swedish string ensemble Musica Vitæ
would commission a trombone piece
from fellow Swede Jan Sandström,
who in turn suggested Lindberg do
the honours instead. The result is
a marvellously rich and quirky piece
that, for reasons unknown to its composer,
has a noticeably Middle Eastern flavour.
The sinuous trombone passages and
pizzicato strings give way to trombone
glissandi and, at 2:17, some deliciously
ripe interjections, too.
There is much animation
in this one-movement work, which also
has some trenchant writing for the
strings. But it’s the soloist who
gets the most original passages, with
what can only be described as high-register
trills from 3:20 onwards. It’s a mark
of Lindberg’s skill that he pulls
this off without any sign of unevenness
or strain.
Even in the short,
melancholic passage that follows Lindberg
maintains a full, resonant sound,
very well captured by the BIS engineers.
In his solo he coaxes some astonishing
sonorities from the trombone, not
to mention some earthy blasts from
9:30 onwards. There’s a spirited dash
to the finish and a final, defiant
riposte from the soloist. This is
most diverting, the composer more
carefree and extrovert than in the
reflective – and intense – World
of Montuagretta, written several
years later.
We go back nearly
half a century to the Holmboe concerto.
Cast in three movements, but played
without a break, it has a strongly
formal character, the soloist well
integrated into the musical texture.
The rhythms of the opening Allegro
– forthright, with Nielsen-like snare
drums included – is very supple, Lindberg’s
more inward contributions beautifully
essayed above quiet strings.
The Andante tranquillo
has some of the most elegiac and expressive
trombone playing you’re likely to
hear anywhere. Alas, it’s much too
short and soon we’re plunged into
the final Allegro, with its
perky, well-defined rhythms. I was
struck by Owain Arwel Hughes’ judicious
blend of orchestral discipline and
brio, the Aalborg band sounding
crisp and characterful throughout.
An underrated maestro, I think, and
one who surely deserves to be more
widely heard.
Mats Larsson received
his commission for a trombone concerto
from the Swedish National Concert
Agency and the Östgöta wind
band. As he explains in the CD booklet,
he wanted to focus on the trombone’s
‘lyrical and dramatically expressive
aspects’. This is abundantly clear
from the long, mournful solo lines
that open this work. There is a vaguely
jazzy feel to the writing at times,
underpinned by dense, brooding accompaniment
from the Östgöta players.
This is by far the
most angular and audibly ‘modern’
piece here, with some rough and insistent
orchestral figures and upper-register
pyrotechnics from the soloist. Cast
in a single movement this music is
punctuated by bracing percussive episodes
– from 5:40, for example – but broadly
it’s a series of contrasting sections
in which the soloist is often absorbed
into the orchestral mix. It’s a much
brighter, more forceful piece than
either the Lindberg or the Holmboe
but there is plenty of bass weight
and thrust as well. The recording
is a little forward, but not bright,
which seems entirely appropriate here.
Lindberg’s long,
singing trombone lines are most impressive,
as is his ability to cope with some
of Larsson’s more athletic melodies.
The Östgöta band sound polished
enough, the wide-ranging recordings
notable for its muscular bass and
clear, unexaggerated treble. In the
extended solo passage Lindberg plays
with considerable warmth and fluidity,
rather confirming his reputation as
one of the most accomplished trombonists
around.
Lindberg doesn’t
disappoint in the Aho piece either.
This is the most substantial and rewarding
item on what is already a very well
filled disc (nearly 79 minutes); indeed,
the formidable Symphony No. 9
also confirms Aho’s stature as one
of Finland’s finest living composers.
The playing in all four of these works
is very good indeed, as are the recordings.
A mandatory purchase for anyone interested
in the modern trombone and one of
its most invigorating and versatile
exponents.
Dan Morgan