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Paolo Marchettini: The Months have ends Many things distinguish this debut recording of works by composer Paolo Marchettini, but one in particular stands out: maturity. All five are refined, impeccably crafted pieces by a composer who clearly knows his own voice. None of the missteps of the young composer are present, and we come away from the collection with a strong understanding of who Marchettini is. Born in Rome and currently ensconced in New York City, the composer—also a clarinetist and pianist—presents a variety of works on the release, with single-movement orchestral pieces joined by a five-part vocal setting of Emily Dickinson poems and a clarinet concertino featuring Marchettini himself. His music's well-served by the performers, soprano Alda Caiello, the Orchestra della Toscana, the Orchestra Roma Sinfonietta, and the Manhattan School of Music Chamber Orchestra. While his music is grounded in the Italian tradition (Verdi, Frescobaldi, and Morricone are cited as inspirations), it's not overly derivative; it registers as a personalized continuation of the tradition, and, given the evidence at hand, it's safe to characterize Marchettini's material as lyrical, expressive, and rich. In an interview with him included in the release booklet, fellow composer Nils Vigeland astutely notes that, the title work aside, each piece follows a dramatic arc that sees the material begin and end quietly and with maximum tension in the centre. That approach lends a Marchettini piece the feel of a journey, specifically one with an intense central part framed by a calmer start and finish. That shared element aside, each work distinguishes itself from the others in identifiable ways. No one better illustrates this structural inclination than the fifteen-minute opener Mercy in how it progresses from a subdued, almost foreboding intro to pronounced agitation in the middle and poignant resolution at the close. That tripartite design is subtly executed, however, in the seamless transitions that occur from one episode to the next. Marchettini's superior command of orchestral colour is evident throughout, particularly in the way contrasting timbres are used to establish mood. Among the episodes that stand out are a central one featuring woodwinds and a subsequent elegiac section dominated by a haunting solo violin, but in truth orchestration impresses throughout. Consistent with its title, “Wild nights” initiates the Dickinson-based title song cycle on an impassioned, even eruptive note, energy high but not so much that the movement careens out of control. Caiello acquits herself admirably here, as she does in the subsequent four parts. Whereas “After great pain” is noticeably sombre in its evocation of grief's aftermath, “I shall keep singing!” is joyful and life-affirming. “A train,” on the other hand, references departure and death, its sober reflections accented by trill-like figures suggesting a nearby bird's voicings; the sixteen-minute piece ruminates again in the concluding “The Months have ends,” this time on mortality and time. The seven-movement Concertino is scored for clarinet, strings, and percussion and thus austere in its presentation compared to the other pieces. Contrast figures heavily when the composer's woodwind separates itself vividly from the strings and vibraphone. The impression created is of a solitary figure (the soloist) on a search, with travels taking him through dramatically different realms. Intense, dance-like activity marks some, melancholy others. In its range of moods, effects, and dynamics, Marchettini's Concertino has obvious value as a potential concert selection for the clarinet soloist. Drawing directly for inspiration from Verdi's Otello, Notturno is as dark and mysterious as expected. The second of three single-movement works, the nine-minute setting broods portentously, the composer using tone colour sensitively to paint the nocturnal scene. At recording's end, Aere per Ennius closes the circle with a Morricone-dedicated work whose three-part design and mood transitions are structurally reminiscent of Mercy and its picturesque writing in keeping with its dedicatee. As before, we advance from an initial state of calm to rhythmically charged moments before concluding delicately. There's much to admire about the recording, including one quality not yet mentioned: patience. One of the ways that Marchettini's maturity is clearly demonstrated is in the patience with which he lets his compositions unfold. His command of orchestration likewise serves the material in strengthening its emotional impact. Regardless of whether the music is energized and blustery or subdued and gentle, it always impresses for its poise and presentation.February 2021 |