Lucid Culture

JAZZ, CLASSICAL MUSIC AND THE ARTS IN NEW YORK CITY

A Cosmopolitan Gershwin-Centric Album From Haerim Elizabeth Lee and Alex Brown

Today’s album is an elegantly fun one. Violinist Haerim Elizabeth Lee and pianist Alex Brown‘s My Time is Now – streaming at Spotify – includes relatively rare duo arrangements of Gershwin music along with works by living composers. The model is the same as Lara St. John and Matt Herskowitz: classical violinist, jazz pianist. But true to their New England Conservatory roots (and Gershwin’s as well), these two like to improvise. They do that a little in a jaunty take of It Ani’t Necessarily So and a lot in Summertime, Brown building an enigmatic reflecting pool until Lee brings in the blues.

Most of the Gershwin arrangements (and frequent embellishments) are by his longtime violinist pal Jascha Heifetz. The Three Preludes have jaunty ragtime-flavored tradeoffs bookending a slow, somber, lyrical stroll. The duo allude to but never quite hit a bluesy strut with A Woman Is a Sometime Thing.

Their take of Bess, You Is My Woman is aptly fond, quite a contrast with the plaintive gravitas of My Man’s Gone Now. The duo bridge both those moods in Tempo Di Blues.

Short Story, a rarity, is a mashup of two early, Dvorak-influenced Gershwin miniatures, Lee’s swoops and dancing lines contrasting with Brown’s steady calm. The condensed version of An American in Paris is a playground for the two musicians, from coy exchanges to gentle rapture and an unexpected steely intensity. The album also includes three arrangements by Brown: Embraceable You, reinvented as a rather hazy nocturne; a High Romantic version of Sleepless Night; and an achingly vivid interpretation of a late work, Violin Piece to close the album.

The more recent material is hit and miss. The atonalities in Patrick Harlin‘s Tbt seem jarringly miscast in this otherwise allusively Gershwinesque, vamping prelude. Lee sails and stabs in Ellen Taaffe Zwilich‘s acerbic Fantasy For Solo Violin and Michael Daugherty‘s kinetic, distantly Appalachian-tinged Viva For Solo Violin, neither of which sound anything like Gershwin. William Bolcom’s Graceful Ghost comes across as a Scott Joplin-ized bolero.

Fun fact: this is the debut recording made with George Gershwin’s personal 1933 Steinway, now housed at the University of Michigan after sitting dormant for decades in a Manhattan apartment

August 15, 2020 Posted by | classical music, jazz, Music, music, concert, review, Reviews | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Quiet Knockout from Bruce Levingston

Pianist Brue Levingston’s new Still Sound is a gorgeously conceptual album of nocturnes that follows a concert-like trajectory. It would be simplistic to reduce it to the mechanics of stately lefthand and glimmering upper righthand, although that’s a fairly accurate description of the most traditionally nocturnal pieces here. Intriguingly, Erik Satie is the connecting link, a brave move considering how specifique Satie is.  Levingston doesn’t take any chances with the famous Gymnopedie No. 2, but he does with Gnossiennes No. 2 and 3, and there his whispery, lento interpretation is a knockout, a welcome change from how most players shy away from anything more than letting Satie’s creepy, otherworldly angst speak for itself. Augusta Gross’ Dance of the Spirits makes a great segue: derivative yet inspired, it could be the long-lost Gnossienne #7.

The spaciousness of the Satie is aptly foreshadowed in Levington’s choices of openers, Arvo Part’s minimalist Fur Alina and the more rhythmic Variationen zur gesundung von Arinuschka. Gross, who serves as a parallel connecting element here, is first represented by the quietly macabre allusions of a brief diptych, Venturing Forth Anew. The brisk twinkles and ripples of Schubert’s Impromptu Op. 9, No. 4 make another tremendously successful segue; Levingston takes full advantage of the opportunity to hit it harder as it moves along and darkens before bringing back the opening ambience. Chopin’s distantly uneasy Chopin Nocturne in B flat, Op. 9, No. 1 leaves no doubt what Satie’s stepping-off point was. The album’s concluding tracks include William Bolcom’s New York Lights, which gets a wistful reading, Levingston’s lefthand mimicking the sonics of an upright bass feeling for steady ground around a central tone, and then a steadily gleaming take on Gross’ Reflections on Air. Out now on Sono Luminus, it’s a quietly powerful reminder of why Levingston has become the go-to pianist for many of this era’s most intriguing composers.

May 6, 2012 Posted by | classical music, Music, music, concert, review, Reviews | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment