There is a liveliness about this music that is utterly
engaging, while at the same time there is an extraordinarily soulful
yearning quality that is enormously affecting. As a former violinist
myself, I am a sucker for ‘new’ violin music – at least, new to me,
that is – so I may legitimately be accused of some bias. Even taking
that into account, however, I believe it impossible for any musically
adventurous spirit not to be moved by the three concertos on this disk.
Arutiunian, whose justifiably well-known trumpet concerto
is the only work of his I have known till now, is probably the most
important Armenian composer of the twentieth century. This concerto
is considered by many to be his masterpiece. Written in response to
the devastating Spitak earthquake on 7th December 1988, it
is a hauntingly wonderful piece of introspection, which, if Steven Spielberg
had heard it, would have inspired at least one blockbuster of a movie.
From the very first movement of the spirited Andante sostenuto
to the aria-like quality of the main theme in the Adagio recitativo,
all four movements have the capacity to grab the listener by the raw
end of his or her emotions – and twist them. It is the sort of music
one cannot listen to without a visceral reaction – love it or hate it;
you’ll never forget it! I’m not as familiar as I would like to be with
the idiom of Armenian art music. I suspect there is a lot of folk influence
in this piece, which gives me a thirst to find out more. The concerto
is a balanced mix of influences, from the Baroque through the Classical
to the Romantic, all trapped in an Arutiunian-manufactured aural amber.
The single-movement concerto
from Latvian composer Pēteris Vasks is an equally effective piece
of emotive communication, but in a completely different way. At the
outset I thought this was to be “yet another minimalist concerto”, but
was quickly proven wrong. There are certainly whole sections
of static music in the work, but there is also really powerful interaction
between soloist and orchestra, and some of the thematic material reminds
me of some of the works of Vasks’ Baltic neighbour Arvo Pärt in
places. This concerto won the Latvian Grand Music Award in 1997 and
it is easy to see why. Not only is it an accomplished work of a respected
teacher, composer and pedagogue, it must also be deeply appealing to
the Latvian national identity, in much the same way as Sibelius’ Finlandia
appealed to an earlier generation of Nordic patriots. At not quite thirty
minutes in length, this is scarcely a huge concerto in terms of endurance
– but I should think both soloist and orchestra are utterly drained
by the end, such is the emotional intensity of the music. Especially
effective is the monolithic ‘arch’ structure, with the emotional climax
being in the middle of the piece, following a slow build up from nothing
and being followed by a gradual disappearance of the music towards a
quiet catharsis. Really effective stuff!
Bronner’s concerto is utterly different in style, though
in temperament it shares much with the other works on this disc. There
is a mischievous quality to the rhythmic lyricism of the piece that
owes much, I suspect, to the influence of his teacher and mentor Tikhon
Khrennikov – there are certainly echoes of the latter’s own violin concerto
and some of his ballet music. There is also great use of harmonics –
difficult for the performer in such an exposed environment, especially
when arpeggiated as they are here – but incredibly effective in painting
an eerie but luminescent sound picture. It is a piece that deserves
to be listened to again and again – and this copy will certainly see
a lot of use!
Levon Ambartsumian plays a 1713 Stradivarius for the
Arutiunian and Vasks concertos – and the clarity of tone and richness
of voice is obvious in these recordings. But for the Bronner he has
selected a much more robust, modern instrument by Boris Bratichev and
this, more than anything else, convinces me that Ambartsumian knows
whereof he speaks – or, rather, plays. His performances are clear-sighted
and intuitive as well as committed and I shall be seeking more of his
recordings if they can be found. I would be particularly interested
in hearing him play baroque concerti, having listened to him communicate
these post-modern pieces so effectively. A soloist to watch out for
in the future – delivering three solid performances here before an obviously
appreciative live audience.
A warmly recommended disk for unusual repertoire and
strong, communicative performances.
Tim Mahon
Levon Ambartsumian
(violin – and conductor in Arutiunian and Bronner)