Music and Recording Reviews

Caroline Shaw: Leonardo Da Vinci (soundtrack)
Attacca Quartet, Sō Percussion, Roomful of Teeth, John Patitucci
Nonesuch 075597898408 (LP). 2024. Jennifer Dunnington, David McMahon, and Caroline Shaw, prods; Alex Venguer, others, engs.
Performance ****
Sonics ****½

Film soundtracks are a broad canvas that can open many new possibilities as well as challenges for modern composers. On one hand, having an accompanying image allows for expressive freedom, but that is often offset by the often-brief duration of cues. Brief, allusive bursts can make for a jumpy, disjointed album. Here the goal of composing lasting music that can stand alone without the images is gloriously achieved by composer Caroline Shaw, whose diverse résumé includes collaborations stretch across a wide spectrum of talents from Renée Fleming to Nas. As a portrait of the genius of da Vinci, or what co-director McMahon calls adding "depth and dimension to Leonardo's inner life," Shaw uses these three ensembles—the Attacca Quartet, Sō Percussion, and Roomful of Teeth—and jazz bassist John Patitucci, across 28 tracks. Recorded in NYC, L.A., and San Francisco, the sonics are peerless and resonant throughout. One of Shaw's obvious missions here was to reflect religious music from da Vinci's time but in a strictly secular way.

Here in the 2:22-long "Atmosphere," she expertly mixes bobbing voices and plucked strings to create the state of its title. "Pleasure and Pain" moodily mixes chanting wordless vocals with a solo violin. "Microcosm and Macrocosm" opens with more plucked violin but soon becomes a near concerto, all of it packed into a mere 2:41. Again, the brevity of these cues compresses Shaw's ideas and energy into small but extremely vital packages. The longest track (5:10), "The Virgin and Child with Saint Anne," uses long wordless vocal lines that grow in intensity and are uplifting in a way that suggests da Vinci's blossoming genius. Like its subject, this is a soundtrack full of brilliance and invention.—Robert Baird

Ethel String Quartet: Persist
Works by Allison Loggins-Hll, Migiwa "Miggy" Miyajima, Xavier Muzik, Sam Wu, and Leilehua Lanzilotti
Sono Luminus DSL-92281, CD (reviewed as 24/192), 2024. Elaine Martone, Sonarc Music, prod.; Daniel Shores, eng.
Performance ****½
Sonics ****½

If you are unfamiliar with the five composers who contributed works to Persist, it's not surprising. All received commissions from a 15-year-old commissioning program for early-career composers founded by Ethel, the ever-adventurous New York–based string quartet that's been exploring new territory since 1998.

All these relatively young composers hail from historically underrepresented backgrounds. Guest flutist Loggins-Hull, who teamed with Ethel to solicit, select, and collaborate with the composers, contributes the title work whose music reflects the concepts of "perseverance, motivation, and positive outlook." Most of its movements are extremely compelling, although the one intended to embody a sense of urgency and alarm sounds far too much like Looney Tunes for its intended meaning. The liner notes don't stipulate a percussionist, but the sounds in the movement that celebrate strength, ability, and overcoming adversity are especially fascinating.

I was deeply taken by Sam Wu's gorgeous Terraria. Inspired by various manifestations of terraria, unique tiny closed-loop ecosystems with their own water and carbon cycles, the music teems with life. Wu writes fascinating music that deserves your attention.

Motivated by issues of "language sovereignty, water sovereignty, land stewardship, and respect," Leilehua Lanzilotti, the Hawaiian-born 41-year-old Kanaka Maoli composer/sound artist, wrote We Began This Quilt to commemorate the accomplishments of Queen Lili'uokalani, the last monarch of the Hawaiian Kingdom, who was overthrown and imprisoned by a US-led coup whose goal was the annexation of the Hawaiian Islands. Vital stuff.—Jason Victor Serinus

Zlata Chochieva: Works for Piano and Orchestra
Zlata Chochieva, piano; BBC Scottish SO/Karl-Heinz Steffens
Naïve V8448 (CD, 2024). Andrew Keener, prod.; Dave Rowell, eng.
Performance **** (Prokofiev) ***** (Rimsky, Tsfasman)
Sonics ****½

Prokofiev's Second Concerto is Chochieva's centerpiece here. She brings nuanced dynamics and inflections to the first movement, pointing the angular second theme nicely. The scales ripple out with beautiful clarity, but the uppermost range exposes her limitations: soft single notes are tight, not pearly, while the full chords are lacking in depth. The unhurried Scherzo chugs along steadily; the Intermezzo's weighty tread recalls Romeo and Juliet's "Dance of the Knights." Brilliant scherzando gestures and some more vigorous chugging keep the Finale going; just as you think it's all over, Chochieva and company broaden into a thoughtful coda—nice.

Rimsky-Korsakov's concerto, its three brief movements played attacca, is the compact lead-in. Piano and orchestral themes alike follow Russian folk contours—it's the shapes, rather than the tunes—that linger in the mind. The introspective central piano solo, framed by solo obbligati, suggests that Rimsky knew Liszt's second concerto, while both outer movements build to impressive climaxes. The first movement's quick scales are dazzling; the colorful closing Allegro offers plenty of back-and-forth between soloist and orchestra.

Alexander Tsfasman, a student of Horowitz's teacher Blumenfeld, gave the Russian première of Rhapsody in Blue. His delightful Jazz Suite puts a spin on classical forms (waltz, polka); it's light in texture and mood; even in serious moments the orchestral playing is focused and compact. Scurrying patterns in Rimsky's Finale aren't always together, but the cello and clarinet obbligati are moving. Strings bring Hollywood-ish glamor and sheen to the Tsfasman. Clarinet triplets in the Prokofiev betray an odd resonance; otherwise, the sound is excellent.—Stephen Francis Vasta

Rococo: Works by Tchaikovsky, Chopin, Dvořák, Rachmaninoff, and Shostakovich
Edgar Moreau, cello; David Kadouch, piano; Luzerner Sinfonieorchester/Michael Sanderling, cond.
Erato 5021732430625 (CD, reviewed as 24/96), 2024. Martin Sauer, prod.; Teldex, eng.
Performance ****
Sonics ***½

Don't be misled by the title; there is nothing remotely rococo about Rococo's repertoire save for the theme of the title work, Tchaikovsky's beloved Variations on a Rococo Theme, Op.33. The remainder of the repertoire—Chopin's gorgeous late Cello Sonata in G minor, Op.65, and short pieces by the composers listed above—is equally romantic to the core. Even the closing work, Shostakovich's jazz-tinged Waltz II from Suite for Variety Orchestra No.1 as transcribed by Kadouch and Moreau, comes across as if the performers wished to wrap the entire program with a lovely, scented bow.

Despite the program's romantic heart, no one delivers a heart-on-sleeve performance. Moreau favors a beautifully proportioned, even flow that, in Tchaikovsky's Variations, is never disturbed or upstaged by Sanderling's rather reticent, flat-sounding orchestra.

These forces inhabit a far different world than that of Mstislav Rostropovich and the Berliner Philharmoniker under Herbert von Karajan, where tempo and dynamic emphasis change frequently, and the orchestra interjects its distinctive voice into the melody line.

The same holds true for the other works. You will find little of Fritz Kreisler's unforgettable bending and sliding in his arrangement (for his own violin) of Dvořák's Humoresque No.7. Only in Rachmaninoff 's orchestration of his beloved Vocalise—where Moreau and Sanderling choose a far slower tempo than some—does the performance fully embrace the music's inherent romance. Ultimately, they've given us the perfect feel-good program, ideal for dinner by candlelight, in which smiles, warmth, and beauty predominate over sighs and tears.—Jason Victor Serinus

Tchaikovsky: The Seasons; Romance in F minor
Bruce Liu, piano
Deutsche Grammophon 00028948663192 (CD, 2024). René Möller, prod.; Jakob Böttcher, eng.
Performance **½
Sonics ***½

Tchaikovsky composed The Seasons—more accurately, "The Months"—on commission: A magazine published one of the pieces each month. They're pretty, largely undemanding—although the "snowfall" of November's recap won't play itself—relatively minor pieces. That widely heralded Chopin Competition winner Bruce Liu should turn his attention to them promised something special.

Liu's technical accomplishments are predictably formidable. Where Tchaikovsky requires runs, arpeggios, and other figurations, they're crisp, articulate, and atmospheric: The move into the recap of November is deft and seamless. The quiet arpeggios, like that in August, are lovely and fluid. Yet his clear, ringy piano tone, as recorded, doesn't seem to have much depth or weight behind it, and the climaxes harden.

Then, Liu seems not to trust the music, burdening it with frequent rubatos and hesitations, sometimes before establishing a basic tempo—including holding the first notes of January and February. He establishes a sunny mood in June, then immediately fusses with the pickups. September's unbuttoned fanfares are cautious; October, missing its alla breve flow, feels stuck.

The performances work best where Liu fusses least. Perhaps he's a summer player: the transitions in his cheerful July make sense—although the recap's ritards feel arbitrary—and he brings a scherzando virtuosity to his nimble, clearly shaped August. December's waltz could be more direct, but it's still gracious. And Liu's bonus, the F minor Romance, is exotic and serpentine at the start, crisp and uplifting in the middle; the recap's added counterpoints keep it from sounding salonish.

This isn't what I'd expected; neither does it live up to glowing reports I'd been getting. An off day, perhaps?—Stephen Francis Vasta

Mozart: Serenata
Eine kleine Nachtmusik | Posthorn | Haffner
Münchener Kammerorchester; Isabelle Faust, violin; Enrico Onofri, cond.
Harmonia Mundi HMM 905396.97 (2 CDs, auditioned at 24/192), 2025. Jean-Daniel Noir, prod. & eng.
Performance ****½
Sonics ****½

What a treat! Three of the nine nocturnal serenades that Mozart wrote for his legions of Salzburg fans, each preceded by the march that signaled the start of an open-air concert. These marches and serenades, performed by standing musicians who sometimes processed from place to place, were so popular that they were often heard daily during the summer months.

As one of the three associate conductors of the Münchener Kammerorchester (Chamber Orchestra of Munich), Enrico Onofri approaches these works as a cofounder and concertmaster of period instrument ensemble Il Giardino Armonico. His "historically inspired" performances blend modern woodwinds and strings—only the double basses use gut strings—with historical brass and timpani. Isabelle Faust's violin cadenzas in three movements of the Haffner Serenade were taken from a period source, while variations and ornaments for the repeats were composed by Onofri "following the practice and taste for embellishment still widespread at the end of the 18th century."

Rhythms are precise, with sharply delineated attacks. The bass foundation is strong, and tempos are often brisk. The alacrity with which Onofri launches into the first movement Allegro of Serenade No.13 in G major, K.525, Eine kleine Nachtmusik, took me by surprise until I searched out other versions and found their slower tempi and thicker sound more reflective of the romantic era than the age of Mozart.

Want to mainline joy? Here's Dr. Serinus's prescription: Start with the hilarious March in D major K.335/1—the oboe solo is a hoot—revel in Isabelle Faust's supremely distinguished solos in the Haffner, and then end with the beloved K.525. Addiction is all too easy.—Jason Victor Serinus