Alan Vivian is one
of the most brilliant young clarinettists
around at present. Though Australian
by birth (and this is an Australian
issue), he has an established name in
Europe too, having guested as Principal
Clarinet with the BBC Symphony Orchestra
in London and the Orchestra of the Vienna
State Opera. He is well-known as a recitalist
and concerto soloist, and has a growing
discography, not only with Revolve,
but with Sony and EMI amongst others.
All of which goes a long way towards
explaining the brilliant technique and
musicianship on display here. Several
of these pieces offer daunting challenges
to the soloist, but you wouldn’t guess
that from the exuberant élan
with which Vivian throws them off.
Some might find his
tone a little bright, even hard. It
is certainly a long way from the mellow
Brymer type of sound. Yet the brilliance
inside Vivian’s sound suits the repertoire
he presents here down to the ground,
for much of it is jazz-inspired, as
you would expect from the likes of Dankworth,
Bernstein and Previn. And Vivian can
play with a sweetly drawn beauty of
tone when the music calls for it.
The Dankworth Suite
for Emma was composed for Emma Johnson,
another outstanding clarinettist of
the younger generation, whom many will
still recall as BBC Young Musician of
the Year back in 1984. This is a delightful
piece, beginning with a Valse
that reminds us how great is the affinity
between the sound and range of the clarinet
with the voice of Dankworth’s wife Cleo
Laine, as suggested in Colin Fox’s excellent
booklet notes.
At the start of the
Bernstein Sonata, written in
the early 1940s when the composer was
fresh out of Harvard, I was taken with
the echoes of Hindemith. It does take
a little while for Bernstein’s characteristic
voice to come through, as it does unmistakably
in the final Vivace. But this
is an enjoyable, convincing piece which
is well worth its place in this collection.
Jazz or popular music influences are
less close to the surface in Benjamin’s
Tombeau de Ravel (Tribute to
Ravel). But the theme of rhythmic inventiveness
and unpredictability continues in this
well-rounded single movement work.
Some might feel that
the Rachmaninov Vocalise is out
of place here. It is a true ‘pop classic’,
and, though originally intended for
wordless soprano voice, it has been
transcribed, with greater or lesser
success, for just about every instrument
under the sun (I'm working on the Shakuhachi
version at this very moment). But its
calmness and extended line acts as a
very good foil to the sinewy, restless
music to be found on many of these tracks.
And it seems to me to suit the clarinet
quite perfectly, reminding one of the
many lovely solos for the instrument
in the concertos and symphonies of the
Russian composer.
Robert Muczynski, who
was based at the University of Arizona
in Tucson for many years, is represented
by his excellent Time Pieces,
of which there are four, adding up in
effect to a short sonata. The style
is often gritty but by no means hard
on the ear, and the writing for the
instrument is splendidly sympathetic.
For me, the most attractive movement
is the third, Allegro moderato, which
begins with a butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-the-mouth
melody that alternates with more vigorous,
aggressive music. The fourth piece is
the longest, beginning with an introduction
for unaccompanied clarinet, the piano
joining once more for the concluding
Allegro energico.
André Previn’s
lightly bluesy ‘encore’ make a delightful
conclusion to the programme. Susan Powell
accompanies superbly well throughout,
never a mere supporter, always an involved
protagonist. This is a most distinguished
disc, beautifully planned and executed,
and the recording is ideal.
Gwyn Parry-Jones