Stillness and repose lie at the epicenter of the latest of violinist Angèle Dubeau’s series of “Portrait” recordings, a celebration of that master of atmosphere, Max Richter. Richter, whose credits include the soundtracks to Waltz with Bashir and Shutter Island, writes postminimalist music—richly scored, with gently undulating rhythms, beautiful, shifting modal harmonies, and subtle electronic effects. There’s often an elegant simplicity to Richter’s music, as in the cyclical “Autumn Music 2,” but there are thrilling moments, too, as pulsating electronic drums emerge from the darkness in “The Journey, Not the Destination.”
This release by Quebec violinist Angèle Dubeau is dedicated specifically to Dubeau's fellow survivors of serious illness, in her case cancer, expressing the aim of "luminous music that can bring interior peace through its strength and powerful evocation." As such it might seem to differ little from any number of other crossover releases filled with mellow tunes. But Dubeau's album has reached the Canadian top ten, indicating that plenty of healthy buyers have found it.
What sweeps us off our feet, casts a spell upon us, and charms us? What befuddles, disconcerts, and bewitches us? What is the cause of so much anguish, but also of even more bliss, joy, and pleasure? What else but passion, an “intense, driving, or overmastering feeling” as states the dictionary, although words often only limply convey its full meaning. Music, on the other hand, seems to entertain intimate ties with passion.
Following her passion for seeking out rare musical gems, Angèle Dubeau presents Portrait: Alex Baranowski , the 6th opus in her series of albums dedicated to contemporary composers, which began in 2008 with Portrait: Philip Glass.
The chamber music of Bohuslav Martinu, more French than Czech, suggests the music Debussy might have written had he lived to experience the full flowering of the neo-classic movement. No one would claim that it has a large emotional range, but for the imaginative use of textures within a restricted environment it's unmatched. The simplest pizzicato seems to carry all kinds of suspense, even as the general mood of the music remains blithe, even sunny in the case of the Sonata for flute and piano, H. 308, written as Martinu waited out World War II on Cape Cod.