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Silvestrov has received acclaim in the West for his Symphony #5, a work that seems to exist in a place and time after all music has come to an end. While some composers have excelled at writing preludes, Silvestrov has become the master of the postlude. These are not the crystal-clear codas of Romantic symphonies, however. Silvestrov’s music is usually in the process of fading into nothing, but never quite getting there. Clarity and purpose are replaced with obscurity and a sense of wandering. Romantic music is alluded to, but never achieved. It is as if Silvestrov is using the expected words, but not stringing them together in the expected sequence. In this music, purpose and direction are tenuous, at best. In Silvestrov’s Requiem, composers as disparate as Mozart and Webern flit in and out of the textures… not as musical quotations, though, but as feelings, or as ghosts unable to find their final rest.
In Requiem for Larissa, Silvestrov disorients the listener even more by fragmenting the familiar Latin texts. The choir stops in the middle of a phrase as if it has forgotten what it is trying to say, or as if what it is trying to say is too painful to complete. Perhaps it is telling that the most coherent setting is that of the Lacrimosa. In the score’s fourth section, the composer interpolates a text from a poem called “The Dream,” written by the 19th-century Ukrainian poet Taras Shevchenko. Both of these sections feature solo voices – a soprano in the Lacrimosa and a tenor in the Shevchenko setting. Elsewhere, the chorus bears the brunt of the vocal demands.
Most of the Requiem for Larissa is quiet, even pretty, but there are thundering climaxes which appear and disappear with little preparation or warning. At the end, there is no salvation, let alone comfort or resolution. Silvestrov’s goal, it seems, is not to resolve matters, but to let us know that closure, if it is possible at all, is painfully elusive. Although Requiem for Larissa was written at a time of crisis in the composer’s life, it seems very typical of his work, and it is a good recommendation for those coming to this composer for the first time, and for those who are beguiled by his Symphony #5.
The recording sessions took place in Kiev in 2001, and the performance probably is definitive. The singing of the National Choir of Ukraine, called “Dumka,” is outstanding. It is unfortunate that the soloists are not identified; it seems likely that they are members of the choir.
Copyright © 2004, Raymond Tuttle









Steve Reich’s Drumming is regarded as one of the most important musical works of the last century. Distilled through his studies of African percussion in Ghana during 1970 and Balinese gamelan music, Reich revolutionized our understanding of polyrhythms, sculpting a new sonic territory to illuminate the radical potential of Minimalism.
Divided into four sections, performed without pause, Drumming is written for eight small tuned drums, three marimbas, three glockenspiels, piccolo and voice. The singers recite melodic patterns that mimic the sounds of the instruments, gradually rising to the surface and then fading out. The overall effect can be transfixing – pulling listeners into the rhythm and possessing a raw immediacy, directness and energy.
The premier performances of Drumming took place in December 1971 in New York City – first at The Museum of Modern Art, then at Brooklyn Academy of Music and finally at Town Hall where this recording was made – and featured the composer along with a cast of longtime collaborators including Art Murphy, Steve Chambers, Russ Hartenberger, James Preiss, Jon Gibson, Joan La Barbara, Judy Sherman, Jay Clayton, Ben Harms, Gary Burke, Frank Maefsky and James Ogden.
Originally released in 1972 by gallerist John Gibson in a small private edition, Drumming represents the culmination of Reich’s investigation into rhythmic phase relationships and its early realization captures a remarkably organic feel, especially compared to the more widely known version on Deutsche Grammophon from 1974.



“…As Eric Ericson points out in his introduction to this disc, ‘Nordic people love to sing – choral singing is deeply rooted in our folk music.’ Which begs the question, why a French choir to perform this selection of 20th-century Scandinavian a cappella music? (On a different note I am intrigued to know why the choir has elected to be photographed sitting in shopping trolleys like so much cheap wine from a Calais hypermarket?)
Be that as it may, Accentus are a highly polished, hugely capable group who, under Ericson’s easygoing and relaxed control, produce sumptuously warm and overtly expressive performances. The third of Stenhammar’s somewhat churchy Choral Songs shows them off at their best, with a lavish, superbly balanced choral blend and lovely depth of tone.
Forty-nine minutes allows little scope to explore the rich seam of Scandinavian choral music from the last century, but the programme is neatly divided into two groups: the backward-looking, overtly romantic music of Stenhammar, Wikander and Alfven, and the slightly more adventurous work of four living composers, Jorgen Jersild, Jan Sandstrom, Lars Johan Werle and Knut Nystedt. The latter group presents a somewhat predictable selection of a cappella devices – sliding tonal clusters, choral speaking and free vocalisations – none of which presents any obvious challenges to these 32 highly accomplished singers. Sandstrom’s ‘Two Japanese Landscapes’ (Poem No 2), a thickly textured, atmospheric mood-piece, is probably the most successful and imaginative thing on the disc.
While the texts of all these songs are given in three languages I am surprised that no authors are mentioned (other than Petrarch, whose name appears, by default as it were, in the title of Werle’s overlong Canzone 126 di Petrarca). Are we to believe that these seven Scandinavian composers were also highly accomplished poets?’…”
Marc Rochester, gramophone.co.uk

Tracklist:
1. Choir Passio Domini Nostri Jesu Christi
2. Jesus Dixi Vobis Quia Ego Sum
3. Jesus Ego Palam Locutus Sum Mundo
4. Evangelist Et Misit Eum Annas Ligatum
5. Pilate Quam Accusationem Affertis Adversus
6. Jesus Regnum Meum Non Est De Hoc Mundo
7. Pilate Ecce Adduco Vobis Eum Foras
8. Evangelist Et Exinde Quaerebat Pilatus
9. Jesus Mulier Ecce Filius Tuus
10. Choir Qui Passus Es Pro Nobis
Candomino Choir
Tauno Satomaa, director
One of Arvo Pärt’s most extensive works, Passio Domini nostril Jesu Christi secundum Joannem is one of the most genuine examples of his tintinnabuli music. Pärt started planning this composition in the late 1970s, while still in Estonia. According to the composer, he came up with an idea of writing a passion setting during a Lent one year. The main structure of the composition was created in only two days and that outline was partly monophonic. After his emigration, Pärt received a commission by Bayerische Rundfunk and thoroughly revised his sketches. The work was completed in 1982 and was premiered in Munich in November of the same year by Bavarian Radio Chorus conducted by Gordon Kember. The CD Passio, recorded by the Hilliard Ensemble with Paul Hillier was released in 1988 by ECM, bringing wider international recognition to the work.
The text of Passio is taken from the Gospel of St. John and includes both narrative parts and direct speech. The words of the Evangelist, making up the major part of the text, is divided between four singers (soprano, countertenor, tenor, bass) and accompanied by four instruments (viola, oboe, cello and bassoon). Thus, the Evangelist’s speech can be given a wide range of timbre variations. The parts of St. Peter, the high priests, servants and other characters as well as the crowd are sung by the choir, sometimes accompanied by organ. The part of Jesus is sung by a bass voice, while the words of Pontius Pilate are sung by a tenor. They are both accompanied by organ.
The part of the Evangelist follows a strict structure. Arvo Pärt divides this text into four sections. Each section begins with a different solo voice, that gradually joins with other voices and instruments, until full configuration is achieved. Then a process of reversal begins: reducing the voices one by one, until the texture gradually becomes thinner, reaching back to a single voice. A similar process is repeated in each section.
The sound of the two solo parts includes features to match the character and role of Jesus and Pontius Pilate. The part of Jesus is two times slower than the parts of others, symbolising eternity with its slowness. The internal dilemma of Pontius Pilate is expressed by polytonality – simultaneously using different keys in the melody and tintinnabuli voices.



In 2016, composer Steve Reich celebrated a milestone birthday and to mark the occasion an upward of hundreds of performances of his work were performed at various places around the globe. These performances and celebrations just confirmed the almost unfathomable beauty and timelessness of his oeuvre as they represented 50 years in music. They also confirmed why he is an important part of the contemporary music landscape for many generations and not just in classical music.
Apart from revisiting past achievements from his large oeuvre, during the celebrations named “Reich at 80,” he also premiered a new piece “Pulse” which is now a part of the new album titled Pulse/Quartet that unites two recent compositions of his. “Pulse” dates from 2015 and was partially inspired Daft Punk’s collaboration with the esteemed 70’s producer Giorgio Moroder “Giorgio by Moroder.” That is evident in the electric bass that pulsates behind the melodies and movements. This is not the first time he has been inspired to write based on popular music as his previous outing Radio Rewrite was a five-movement piece that was built on themes from various Radiohead songs. “Pulse” was written for winds (clarinet and flute), strings, piano and an electric bass where the melodies stretch in arching lines. What is astonishing is the variety of sounds Reich has conjured from them. It’s a contemplative piece where every sound brims with life and the instruments seamlessly blend together thus achieving a layering effect.
The pulse has always been the heartbeat of Reich’s music and this is more evident in “Quartet” which is one of the most complex pieces that Reich has ever composed because of the frequent change of keys. It’s written for two pianos and two vibraphones and is performed by the Colin Currie Group. The Quartet is far more optimistic in tone and it reveals the fragmentary nature of Reich’s melodies. The repetitive segments and the pulsating effect which are fundamental for Reich’s music are more subdued in the segments and he uses these segments to achieve create a hypnotic effect. The instruments reiterate certain phrases, pulses, sounds and they always interact with each other. The combination of two pianos and the two vibraphones provides a rhythmic and harmonic foundation over which steady rhythms and intricate melodies mesh and layer together. There is that pulsating vitality that As a result, this gives the impression of a flowing effect where the music that gradually evolves and dissolves. It is tempting to label this music merely as minimalism, but to do so would be slightly misleading because there is so much happening in the midst of the pulse patterns and the layering melodies and sounds. Pulse/Quartet is a brilliant recording by a composer though he’s been around for many years is hitting his stride. The music is profound, enchanting, accessible and engaging.
–Nenad Georgievski, allaboutjazz.com
Nicolas Altstaedt, cello
BBC Symphony Orchestra
Pascal Rophé, director



Yuri Bashmet: violin
Moscow Soloists
Roman Balashov: director


Choral master Paul Hillier knows the music of Arvo Pärt as well as anyone, having been there for the composer’s early ECM recordings, written one of the few books on him and, lately, led a series of excellent Pärt surveys for Harmonia Mundi. Here, Hillier offers an intimate collection of vocal and instrumental chamber pieces that range across the Estonian’s career, anchored by the Stabat Mater of 1985 — a contemporary classic that stands with the greatest works devoted to the “grieving mother” from Josquin to Poulenc. This performance of the Stabat Mater is beautiful sung and ideally recorded. “My Heart Is in the Highlands” — a setting of the Robert Burns ballad for solo high voice and organ — is one of Pärt’s most perfect creations; sung here by soprano Else Torp (Hillier’s wife), it will crush a sensitive soul. Another standout is “Ein Wallfahrtslied” (A Pilgrim’s Song), which has a dark edge rare for latter-day Pärt; as a string quartet lays down a snaking, chromatic path, tenor and baritone intone the psalm like specters, lonely but ever-determined.
–- Bradley Bambarger, Listen Magazine
(Arvo Part)