This is a music of a crushed, almost desperate, elemental lyricism, a music where an intense gravitational pull wrestles with an also elemental drive or need to survive and sing. One thinks of what life might be like on the surface of Jupiter, the so-called heavy planet — should there even be life there. Or, better yet perhaps, of the episode in the book of Genesis where Jacob wrestles all night with an angel who refuses to give Jacob his name and who, at daybreak, demands to be let go, whereupon Jacob says, “Not until you bless me,” which the angel does then do. One should add that at one point in Jacob’s night-long wrestling match with his antagonist, the mighty angel touches the socket of Jacob’s hip and throws it out of joint, whereupon, we are told, Jacob will forever walk with a limp.
As Kieran Read prepares to call time on his distinguished New Zealand career at the end of the Rugby World Cup, this is the open and honest life story of one of rugby's greatest players, a legendary All Black and a two-time World Cup winner.
Kieran Read first played for the All Blacks as a 23-year-old in 2008 and since then has amassed more than a century of Test appearances in the famous jersey. Now, after a stellar provincial, club and international career - including back-to-back World Cup victories - the New Zealand captain writes openly and honestly about his time in the game. …
Carl Vine is an Australian composer who has been active in a range of genres, from film music to public spectacle (he composed part of the music for the closing ceremonies of the 1996 Atlanta Olympics) to music informed by modernist concepts. The piano works here owe a debt, recognized in the notes by pianist Michael Kieran Harvey, to American composer Elliott Carter, and manipulations of rhythm and tempo play central structural roles in both the pair of piano sonatas and the profusion of miniatures recorded here.
Radical, daring and extremely refined: that’s how Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach saw his new path for the Oratorio, after his father’s Passions had marked the climax of the baroque era. Encouraged by his godfather Telemann and liberated from the yoke of the capricious Frederick of Prussia, he found himself in Hamburg with an audience hungry for new music. And he brought them his oratorios, no longer in churches but in concert halls, where he demanded the listener’s undivided attention for sudden changes of mood and colour.