There is something about Austrian eccentricity or individuality in contemporary 
                  music which is hard to define, but once recognised is highly 
                  infectious. A place filled with yodelling, schrammelmusik, alphorns 
                  and innumerable types of folksy dancing could be the only place 
                  to throw up names such as Werner Pirchner and the ‘Third 
                  Viennese School’ collaborators H K Gruber and Kurt Schwertsik. 
                  I am a huge fan of their teasing intellect and irrepressible 
                  sense of humour and the surreal. 
                    
                  The term MOB was coined by Kurt Schwertsik as part of the 1960s 
                  ‘MOB art & tone ART’ ensemble. Gruber’s 
                  3 Mob Pieces are originally for interchangeable ensemble, 
                  but were arranged for Hardenberger in 1999 in their present 
                  form. These short pieces are eminently accessible, being descended 
                  from works such as Stravinsky’s neoclassical Dumbarton 
                  Oaks and jazzy Ebony Concerto. Full of artful harmonies, 
                  rhythm and counterpoint, these are fascinating jewels which 
                  are endlessly entertaining and deliver a great lift of mood 
                  every time I hear them, especially when played as well as here. 
                     
                  The trumpet concerto Busking has appeared before on the 
                  BIS label (see review), 
                  with the same soloist, same orchestra, and the same conductor. 
                  With the same timings and recording date I think we can safely 
                  assume it is in fact the same recording, though no mention is 
                  made of this in the present release. Perhaps BIS-CD-1781 wasn’t 
                  selling too well and they decided to breathe new life into what 
                  is after all a terrific performance of a superb piece. With 
                  accordion and banjo included with the string orchestra the work 
                  has moments of Kurt Weill-esque pop-ness in the jaunty opening 
                  Presto. The beautiful second movement Largo sees 
                  the soloist playing the more gentle flugelhorn, the banjo adding 
                  pointillist drops of rain to a kind of moody nocturne over which 
                  the accordion paints lines of light below Hardenberger’s 
                  melancholy melodies. The final Allegro opens with dancing 
                  rhythms in the strings accordion and banjo, followed by a cool 
                  cadenza, and plenty of “polytonal and polymetrical high 
                  jinks” to finish. My only criticism with this recording 
                  of Busking is the rather too distant string orchestra, 
                  which could have done with a little more presence in the balance, 
                  though this might have revealed more about their discomfort 
                  with some of the more extreme technical demands of the piece. 
                  This is in fact a minor point, with the ear drawn to and satisfied 
                  with the novelty and skill in the solo parts. 
                    
                  Kurt Schwertsik’s Divertimento Macchiato was written 
                  for Håkan Hardenberger, and the title disguises what is 
                  in fact pretty much a full-blown trumpet concerto. The opening 
                  immediately throws the name of Stravinsky up into the air, and 
                  there are little touches throughout the piece which remind one 
                  of, maybe a bit of Bartók here, maybe a bit of Martinů 
                  or Milhaud or something else to throw into a melting pot of 
                  pungently distinctive associations. The piece is in no way derivative, 
                  but stands in a tradition which, as the title suggests, stretches 
                  back to Mozart and Haydn, and acknowledges its firm place in 
                  a powerful European context. Contrasting moods take us into 
                  realms both playful and dark, but the essential mood is one 
                  which Malcolm Macdonald points to as “melancholy and defiance” 
                  in his booklet notes. This sense of the disturbed and the disjointed 
                  lends depth and reflectiveness to even the more jocular movements, 
                  the trumpet sometimes a lonely voice, singing or surfing above 
                  an orchestra which evokes its own intensity, as with the important 
                  Notturno fourth movement. The following Finale 
                  has a similar sense of grim fun to some of Malcolm Arnold’s 
                  lighter moments, and this is followed by an Epilogo and 
                  a big cadenza, “a soliloquy almost Mahlerian in its sense 
                  of loneliness and desolation.” 
                    
                  If your fear of contemporary music is the equivalent of crossing 
                  a busy autobahn on foot, then let H K Gruber, Kurt Schwertsik 
                  and Håkan Hardenberger be your guides. This programme 
                  is a kind of rainbow bridge which can take you into new realms 
                  by way of works which are new and fresh, while at the same time 
                  offering welcoming colours of familiarity and an entertaining 
                  lightness of touch. The brilliance of a soloist who can communicate 
                  and give the trumpet character as few others can is also by 
                  no means the least of many attractions. You may not realise 
                  you need this CD until you have it, but once you do it becomes 
                  instantly irreplaceable. 
                    
                  Dominy Clements