Kaija SAARIAHO (b.1952)
Let the wind speak
Tocar for flute and harp (2010) [7.22]
Mirrors I for flute and cello [3.29]
Colours du vent for solo alto flute (1998) [9.01]
Mirrors II [3.27]
Oi Kuu for flute and cello (1990/3) [6.41]
Mirrors III (1997) [3.40]
Sombre I-III for flute and ensemble (2012) [20.40]
Dolce tormento for solo piccolo (20014) [6.31]
Laconisme de l’aile for solo flute (1982) [8.52]
Camilla Hoitenga (flutes)
Anssi Karttunen (cello); Daniel Belcher (baritone); Héloïse Dautry (harp); Da Camera of Houston
rec. 24 February 2013, 28 October 2013, 21 October, 4 December 2014, Deutschandfunk Kammermusiksaal, Cologne, Germany
ONDINE ODE1276-2 [71.04]
It all started in 1982 when the young and little known Kaija
Saariaho gave a handwritten score of Laconisme de l’aile (possibly
translated as ‘Concision of the Wing’) to flautist Camilla Hoitenga.
The composer was already moving towards developing her interest in flute technique
in a way we discover in each of these pieces. She draws on multiphonics, blowing
into the head joint, playing more across it, quarter tones, slides, percussive
sounds and singing or speaking as part of the performance or whilst playing.
This 1982 work has a French text (a poem called ‘Oiseaux’ by Saint-John
Perse; see also Saariaho's Aile
du Songe). Before and near the end this extends mainly to phonemes –
the use of words which sound almost identical but have different meanings:
La mort/L’amour. We are going to meet these sounds regularly throughout
the disc.
As indeed in the three pieces entitled Mirrors for flute and cello
scattered randomly around the CD. Actually this is rather a cute idea. The
original three and a half minute piece was put onto a CD-ROM and is in 48
segments. Within certain guidelines anyone can re-order these segments to
make their own piece. So we have here, the original (1) later a variant by
the cellist Anssi Karttunen (2) and a third, with its dramatic ending, by
Hoitenga herself (3). I first heard all three, one after the other, so that
I could try to follow the use of the material but this is not a rewardingly
musical experience. My next encounter was separately after one of the other
pieces. Even so the musical value of the enterprise seems highly suspect and
limited.
By 1993 Hoitenga felt that Saariaho had not written enough flute music so
she set about arranging Oi Kuu (O Moon) originally for cello
and clarinet but now for flute and cello. This inhabits an extraordinarily
unpeopled tundra landscape. It is deeply impressive and just the right length.
One might form an impression that more than two musicians are involved so
full, rich and uniquely varied the sound-world.
So idiomatic sounding is Tocar for flute and harp that it is incredible
to discover that it has been very carefully adapted from an original for violin
and piano by the composer and performer. A composer can’t go wrong with
this classic combo. The CD opens with this magical piece and, vibrating with
inner life, it certainly helps lead the listener into what follows.
The longest piece here is Sombre I-III being scored for bass flute,
baritone, double bass, harp and percussion. It was to receive its first performance
in the ‘Rothko Chapel’ in Houston, which was completed in 1971.
The composer says that she had felt “close to his (Rothko’s) work
for a long time”. The ‘chapel’ has several panels each coloured
in what my uneducated eye thinks of as a purply-black. When I saw them in
1988 it was raining heavily and there was little light, all adding to the
‘sombre’ nature of, what has to be admitted, was a spiritual experience.
In addition Saariaho has set three “heart-breaking” texts by Ezra
Pound - Cantos; fragments of great simplicity and loss. It’s the second
one, which includes the line ‘Let the wind speak’ that gives the
CD its title. Daniel Belcher sings and projects beautifully yet the work appears
to me rather mannered and restrictive. It’s not really adequate to say
that that is what the Rothko experience is all about. There should be a greater
sense of searching and indeed strength. The experience of hearing this work
was tepid and claustrophobic. The text is supplied in the booklet.
The idea of speaking poetry into the instrument comes to a head with Dolce
tormento for solo piccolo in which a Petrarch Sonnet is discovered hiding
behind the wind and whistles of the instrument as in Laconisme de l'aile
mentioned above. The effect is mannered and stylised and I fear mostly uninteresting.
Repeated hearings were alas, no help. Whereas, Colours du vent for
solo alto flute has enough musical interest in its material to keep the listener
alert for its nine-minute course.
Throughout the CD there is a truly astonishingly display of virtuosity especially
in the way Hoitenga melds the voice to the instrument. The supporting cast
of musicians are also outstanding in their understanding and reinforcement
of the project and of the recording. The booklet essay takes the form of a
conversation between performer and composer and has been sensibly translated.
Gary Higginson
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