Let me start with my
final paragraph. Wonderful stuff. Bis
has been on a winner with Sharon Bezaly
for some time now but this is surely
the most splendid so far in the series,
playing three works inspired by and
dedicated to her. Nordic is certainly
geographically accurate and the Spell
will soon weave its magic as you listen
to these three very different works,
all recorded with three different orchestras
under three different conductors (of
whom one is Lindberg).
Aho’s Concerto
is the longest - a three-movement work
of frequently ravishing beauty. Though
the first movement has its fair share
of grit – mainly percussive - the prevailing
sense is one of lyrical floating. The
glittering lightness and agility of
the writing and playing is at its most
intense in the fast second movement,
a presto that is certainly quick but,
miraculously doesn’t sound too fast,
so acutely accomplished is the articulation
at speed. The orchestration is light
but opens out into a wash of colour,
led by brass and more percussive drama.
Ominous, adrenalin pumping moments are
here, and they lead into a five minute
Epilogue that reverts to the feeling
of the first movement and ends with
lines of rapt simplicity and contemplation.
In a sense this represents a compositional
arc and how Aho achieves the sense of
return with such perfectly judged naturalness
is one of the work’s little miracles.
Tómasson’s
2001 Concerto for flute, his second,
is written in five movements, each of
them characterised with exceptional
skill and attractiveness. Their compactness
– none is longer than about five minutes
– in no way diminishes their cohesion
or the formal structure of the work.
It too has its share of more tensile
material with a flighty flute above
a percussion-strong rhythmically dramatic
orchestral palette in the second movement
Scorrevole. Whilst there are
hints of Schoenberg in the central panel,
the Calmo heart of it has such
fascinating colouristic hints that one
listens enraptured.
Christian Lindberg’s
concerto for flute and chamber orchestra
is titled The World of Montuagretta.
It derives from a documentary about
Brazilian "travesti" that made a profound
impression on the composer and embodies
qualities of innocence and optimism.
Lindberg conjures up butterfly acrobatics
for his soloist and colours his writing
with iridescence allied to intoxicating
rhythm. The third movement flirts with
Spanish tinges, shades of the Concierto
de Aranjuez maybe, but there’s carnival
spirit in the finale with a real big-band
drive to it. Even here though there
is room for more introspective moments,
tense reflection, before a warmly optimistic
ending. Lindberg manages to imbue his
music with great warmth, a certain panache,
and lashings of colour.
Bezaly plays the works
she has inspired, whether on flute or
alto flute, with immense authority and
sensitivity and Bis’s recording set-up
captures balances perfectly, in much
the same way as their notes set the
scenes so well. I’ll end as I began
– wonderful stuff.
Jonathan Woolf