Schelomo receives its mead of barbarous splendour at the hands of Nelsova and Abravanel. The recording is a shade too warm but Nelsova (who recorded far too little) who studied the piece with the composer demonstrates her familiarity and sympathy with the piece. This is essential as Schelomo is one of those works that can easily seem nondescript if the artists involved are unengaged. In that sense it is rather like the Bax cello concerto (still awaiting its ideal exponent on disc). This is Nelsova's second, recording of the work. The feverish grip of the music is strongly asserted.
To hear tenor saxist A.C. Reed bemoan his fate on-stage, one might glean the impression that he truly detests his job. But it's a tongue-in-cheek complaint - Reed's raspy, gutbucket blowing and laid-back vocals belie any sense of boredom. Sax-blowing blues bandleaders are scarce as hen's teeth in Chicago; other than Eddie Shaw, Reed's about all there is. Born in Missouri, young Aaron Corthen (whether he's related to blues legend Jimmy Reed remains hazy, but his laconic vocal drawl certainly mirrors his namesake) grew up in downstate Illinois. A big-band fan, he loved the sound of Paul Bascomb's horn on an obscure Erskine Hawkins 78 he heard tracking on a tavern jukebox so much that he was inspired to pick up a sax himself…
To hear tenor saxist A.C. Reed bemoan his fate on-stage, one might glean the impression that he truly detests his job. But it's a tongue-in-cheek complaint - Reed's raspy, gutbucket blowing and laid-back vocals belie any sense of boredom. Sax-blowing blues bandleaders are scarce as hen's teeth in Chicago; other than Eddie Shaw, Reed's about all there is. Born in Missouri, young Aaron Corthen (whether he's related to blues legend Jimmy Reed remains hazy, but his laconic vocal drawl certainly mirrors his namesake) grew up in downstate Illinois. A big-band fan, he loved the sound of Paul Bascomb's horn on an obscure Erskine Hawkins 78 he heard tracking on a tavern jukebox so much that he was inspired to pick up a sax himself…
The Labèque sisters' recordings on the Philips and London labels from the early '80s, which were big hits, largely disappeared after their initial acclaim and, as of the early 2000s, were only found in excerpts on compilations. So as the big labels continue to abandon new classical recordings, the Labèques started their own record label, as many other artists have done, allowing them the freedom to choose what kind of music they want to record, whether it be standard piano duet repertoire or new interpretations of Lennon and McCartney.
This is a 'concept-album' around Maurice Ravel and his special relation with Helene Jourdan Mourhange, a dear friend and violinist. The programme is set-up in order to take the listener by the hand into Ravel's musical world through a series of pieces which are gradually more deep and complex. The music is played on a 1935 Hautrive piano, while violin and cello are played on gut strings. The Tzigane is in the rarest version for Lutheal (Pleyel, 1910), a period prepared piano with a gipsy character.
Maurice André rightly earned the reputation of being one of the finest trumpet virtuosos from the 20th and 21st centuries. He made numerous concert appearances and recordings and inspired composers like Blacher, Jolivet, and Tomasi to write major works for his instrument. André was born in the Cévennes district of southern France. Young Maurice began taking vocal instruction (solfeggio) at age ten, but two years later, influenced by his father – a miner, but also an excellent amateur trumpeter – began playing the cornet and eventually the trumpet. But he also followed his father's occupation, becoming a miner at age 14. It was not long until his father realized the depth of his son's talent and arranged lessons for him with local teacher Leon Barthélémy. Because his father's wages were meager, André could not consider study at the Paris Conservatory, but through Barthélémy's clever plan, he gained admittance, tuition-free, by first joining a military band.
This program offers three lively, colorful, and captivating orchestral works by two United States composers, born almost a century apart. These pieces exhibit the fruitful exchange and flow of musical material between North and South America that has long played a role in popular music, apparent not only in commercial song and dance music using Latin American melodies and rhythms but also in early jazz and blues where tango rhythms are so often heard, as in W. C. Handy's St. Louis Blues. And both Gottschalk in the 1850s, close to the beginning of a creative American musical tradition, and Gould in the 1950s, when such a tradition had flowered considerably, show a combination of seriousness of approach with a popular touch.