Cello Concerto in D minor, Op. 82 (1864) [27:21]
    
    Adagio and Allegro, Op. 70 (orch. Ansermet, 1943) [9:29]
    
    Suite No. 1 for solo cello (1956) [10:55]
    
    rec. 17-18 June 2013, Mabry Concert Hall, Austin Peay State University, Clarksville, 
    Tennessee, USA
    
 Michael Samis’ debut solo album is as eclectic 
      as anything we’ve seen in years. There’s a world-premiere of 
      a major romantic concerto, another premiere of a romantic piece updated 
      by a beloved conductor, and two works by important contemporary composers. 
      We have Robert Schumann on one hand and a marimba duet on the other.
       
      Carl Reinecke’s cello concerto is a pretty good one, unworthy of its 
      obscurity. The first melody is striking, a bid for exotic sounds of the 
      Near East. The second melody is even more striking, because it resembles 
      one of the central tunes in Dvorák’s cello concerto. The slow movement 
      and finale are concise constructions that offer good themes and nice showcases 
      for the soloist. Sure, they follow the rote “romantic concerto” 
      template a little too closely. Minor-key first movement with drama, consolatory 
      slow movement, then dark transition to a cheery finale untroubled by drama. 
      You’ve heard things like it before but that won’t dampen your 
      enjoyment, not when the music is this well-crafted, catchy and outstandingly 
      played.
       
      That's especially because more than half of the album is even rarer 
      and more eclectic. Reinecke leads straight into John Tavener’s solo 
      lament 
Threnos, written “in memory of [a] dear friend.” 
      This is a work of deceptive simplicity, where the mournful melody stretches 
      out over two minutes before we hear it developed. Although Samis is mostly 
      asked only to play one note at a time — again: deceptively simple 
      — the buildup at the beginning makes him sound like an entire quartet 
      and the expressive demands are constant.
       
      After this, Robert Schumann’s 
Adagio and Allegro is a welcome 
      relief and a warm embrace. Ernest Ansermet’s orchestration is sensitive 
      and true to the composer’s romantic style, with a prominent role for 
      the oboe. Then Samis goes solo once more, for the first suite by Ernest 
      Bloch. You know Bloch could write for the cello from 
Schelomo, 
      but this ten-minute suite is dark in hue, with echoes of his Jewish heritage 
      and maybe his homesickness. Osvaldo Golijov rounds out the programme, with 
      a piece inspired the same way Tavener’s was: the death of a good friend. 
      
Mariel uses a pulsing marimba part that, if it were in a film, 
      would accompany someone driving a black car at night, alone, under cold 
      antiseptic street lights in the city. Alongside this, the cello plays an 
      achingly sad melody which will communicate directly with the heart of any 
      listener.
       
      How is such fantastic music so little-known? The Reinecke has never been 
      recorded before; Samis discovered it himself. Ansermet’s arrangement 
      of the Schumann piece is new to disc, too. Ernest Bloch’s cello suites 
      are available on one other disc, by Emmanuelle Bertrand on Harmonia Mundi. 
      
Michael 
      Samis funded the recording of this CD on Kickstarter, and many of the 
      donors are listed in the booklet.
       
      Given it’s recorded on a Kickstarter budget (Samis raised $11,887), 
      the “emerging” Gateway Chamber Orchestra from Tennessee, make 
      for very good partners and the recorded sound is at the height of professional 
      standards. Everything was recorded in one concert hall, so the solo pieces 
      are surrounded by a little more reverb. Did I mention that Samis gives a 
      truly heroic, attention-grabbing and, I hope, career-advancing performance 
      in every single work?
       
      So it’s an album built up from weird, unknown parts and worth much 
      more than their sum. The twin threads of lament (Tavener, Bloch, Golijov) 
      and romantic warmth (Reinecke, Schumann), plus the thrill of discovering 
      over an hour of new stuff make this a major release. How many great recordings 
      will be crowd-funded online by their listeners? We don’t know, but 
      judging from this and another disc I have received, the answer is at least 
      two.
       
      
Brian Reinhart