Dancing
Stefan WOLPE (1902-1972)
Suite from the Twenties [14:23]
Emil František BURIAN (1904-1959)
Suite Americaine, Op.15 (1926) [11:21]
Bohuslav MARTINŮ (1890-1959)
Jazz Suite (1928) [11:25]
Mátyás SEIBER (1905-1960)
Jazzolette No.1 (1929) [3:15]
Jazzolette No.2 (1932) [4:01]
Darius MILHAUD (1892-1974)
La création du monde, Op.81 (1923) [16:47]
Ebony Band/Werner Herbers
rec. 14 April 2007, Toonzaal, Den Bosch (Wolpe); 21 May 2007, De Vereeniging,
Nijmegen (Milhaud); 27 April 2011 (Burian & Martinů), and 1 July
2011 (Martinu), Muziekgebouw aan ’t IJ, Amsterdam; 4 December 2001, Doopsgezinde
Singelkerk, Amsterdam (Seiber).
CHANNEL CLASSICS CCS 30611 [61:25]
The Ebony Band is back, this time with a jazz programme containing known and
less familiar pieces recorded at recent live performances. Packaged in a nicely
designed foldout sleeve and with a booklet richly illustrated with period
dance-themed artworks and portraits of the composers, this is one of those
releases with a vibe of anticipation to which you know in advance the contents
of the disc will be more than equal.
Berlin-born and bred, Stephan Wolpe’s Suite from the Twenties dramatically
links atonal modernist musical tendencies with jazz style. Geert van Keulen’s
distinctive instrumentation heightens this sometimes grotesquely theatrical
effect in six punchy movements, taking the music beyond what were originally
pieces for piano into a kind of distortion of the dance hall. This is a marvellous
piece, filled with striking and compact directness of expression. Stravinsky-like
syncopations can be heard in the opening Tango for Irma, there is perhaps
something of Kurt Weill’s declamatory style in the Marsch nr.1, and
the spirit of Webern seems to inhabit the tonal and timbral pointillism of
Tanz (Charleston).
Emil Burian was a pupil of Suk and Foerster, working for cabaret theatres
and promoting contemporary music as well as composing. His Suite Americaine
is distinctive not least for its prominent part for the violophone, a
violin whose strings are amplified via a horn rather than the wood of a soundboard.
This strange sound floats above the band like a soloist whose part is being
sent in via radio relay and projected through an old gramophone player. The
music itself is the composer’s sophisticated take on dance numbers like the
Charlstonette (Foxtrott) and a Valse Boston. The spooky nature
of the instrumentation is heavily in evidence in the restrained Tango Argentino,
and the final Fuga-Fox is a miniature tour de force on the initials
of the composer’s own name.
Bohuslav Martinů’s Jazz Suite has appeared a few times in recordings,
and I first came across it via a Supraphon LP recording which can now be found
on CD on a release titled ‘Works Inspired by Jazz and Sport.’ The Ebony Band’s
performance is every bit as idiomatic as the Prague players, and with more
soulful atmosphere in the Blues. The strings are more prominent in
the mix, and accompanying ostinati and sustained notes intrude perhaps a bit
much here and there, but this is still a cracking recording. It has plenty
of that loungy salon atmosphere in the Boston and all of those subtly
swinging rhythms perfectly placed throughout, and notably in the rousing Finale.
The Hungarian Mátyás Seiber is perhaps best known for film scores such as
that for the 1954 animated version of George Orwell’s Animal Farm.
The two Jazzolettes cross witty wah-wah playing with Second Viennese
School compositional techniques – the second of the pieces starting with a
12-note row in the trumpet. This is a remarkable pair of works: brief and
intense, but full of superb invention and a gasping sense of ‘how does he
do that?’
There can be little doubt that Darius Milhaud’s La création du monde
is the best known work here, and by chance I recently had the privilege of
reviewing the composer’s own conducted recording on the André Charlin label,
SLC 17. The Ebony Band is a better bunch of players than the orchestra Milhaud
worked with in 1956, but it’s always fascinating to hear a composer’s own
rendition of his work. The timings between the versions differs by 20 seconds,
and therefore as close as makes no difference. Werner Herbers creates an almost
menacing atmosphere in the opening pages, with heavy drums and emphasising
the darker side of the harmonies, as well as providing a fruitily warm bed
of sonority for the saxophone solo. This is a work for ballet, so fits in
with the ‘dance’ theme of this album while differing in its lack of direct
reference to dancehall numbers. As African ‘primitivism’ had already hit Paris
and Picasso’s fascination with African masks had been launched in previous
years, so was Milhaud enthralled by the black operettas he saw in New York,
integrating their fashionable American orchestration into the story of creation
as taken from African mythology. This is a terrific piece and a marvellous
performance – art and music united in sound.
You may or may not know it, but we all really need the Ebony Band. Werner
Herbers’ crusade to make us aware of forgotten composers and neglected repertoire
has already brought us Józef Koffler and Konstanty Regamy (see review),
Weill, Toch and Schulhoff (see review)
and many more, and once you’ve widened your horizons with these kinds of programmes
you will wonder why everyone else seems so keen to re-record mainstream warhorses
over and over again. This Dancing – The Jazzfever of… release is taken
from live recordings at various locations, but there are no discomfortingly
extreme changes of recorded perspective, and applause and audience noise is
absent. We’ve had popular ‘jazz’ discs before now – the kind like Simon Rattle’s
London Sinfonietta EMI release way back in 1987, which always sell out in
advance of Christmas and have shop owners tearing their hair out wishing they’d
ordered more. Let’s hope this Ebony Band achieves the same kind of commercial
success – it most certainly deserves it.
Dominy Clements
Top band, top programme, top disc.