|
Sonus Quintett: Light However unrelated they might seem, the four works composing the Sonus Quintett's debut album are connected by the theme of “light.” Whereas it's referenced directly in the title of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata and alluded to in David Biedenbender's Refraction, it's intimated in the way transcriptions cast Gershwin's An American in Paris and Grieg's "Air" from the Holberg Suite “in a different light.” The connection duly noted, one can leave the concept behind and focus on what matters most, the works themselves and the group's renderings thereof. To that end, the group makes good on the idea put forth by American light and space artist James Turrell, whose contention that “light is not just what you see but what enables you to see” is reformulated by the group as “Light is not just what you hear but what we enable you to hear.” Clarinetist Linda Gulyas, bass clarinetist Viviana Rieke, saxophonist Lena Iris Brendel, oboist Eloi Enrique Hernández, and bassoonist Annika Baum founded the Stuttgart-based Sonus Quintett in 2021 and now showcase its distinctive sound on this very appealing collection. You can't go wrong by opening with Gershwin's An American in Paris, one of two transcriptions on the release by Dutch saxophonist Raaf Hekkema. Much as Rhapsody in Blue captures the spirit of NYC, An American in Paris does the same for that other centre of excitement and energy. Its writing stemmed from a two-month stay in the French capital where the impressions and sounds Gershwin absorbed were later converted into vivid musical form. Endearing immediately with its jaunty intro, the material charms in this arrangement, and with five players only each musician's part is clearly discernible. The piece alternates between vibrant and gentle sections, its fusion of jazz and classical realized brilliantly and the woodwinds giving splendid voice to the material. In one part, a busy Parisian street is evoked, with taxi horns blaring amidst the revelry; halfway through, the music shifts into a glorious blues-drenched episode tinged with yearning. Hekkema's excellent treatment gives equal attention to all five instruments, making for a resplendent ensemble showcase, and the delight the quintet shared performing the piece is palpably felt throughout its nineteen minutes. Transcribed by Sonus's saxophonist, Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata doesn't suffer from overfamiliarity when the new arrangement recasts it so winningly. Those iconic triplets that initiate the first movement, for example, sound fresh when played by clarinet, and the solemn melody that follows is as stirring when sung by oboe with such poise. In fact, Brendel's treatment is so satisfying, you might think it was arranged in this form from the beginning. The mood brightens with the onset of the second movement, which Liszt characterized as “a flower between two chasms.” The comment's apt for highlighting the pastoral splendour of the movement, even if it lasts but two minutes. Familiar too is the mighty “Presto agitato” that concludes the work in epic manner, a word that as credibly applies to the quintet's virtuosic performance. While Beethoven apparently said of the material that he'd “certainly written better,” its endurance testifies to its magnificence. Like Beethoven's piece, Biedenbender's Refraction is structured in three movements, but that's pretty much where similarities end. Each of the parts in Refraction was inspired by a different musical source, which was then bent and distorted through the composer's imagination. Packed with pulsing bass rhythms and aggressive honks and shrieks, the short opening movement—titled “Death Metal Chicken,” no less—grew out of the composer's viewing of a YouTube video showing, yep, a chicken screaming over the wail of a death metal band. Dignified by comparison is “Kyrie,” which is dedicated to the composers Guillaume de Machaut and Arvo Pärt. Its chant-like melody engages from its first oboe-delivered moment, but the material is as absorbing when the quintet executes an intricately woven chorale. “Goat Rodeo” reinstates the irreverence of the opening movement, this time with a madcap mix of pointillistic gestures, horn-like honks, and wonky funk rhythms. Light concludes with another excellent Hekkema transcription, this one of “Air” from Grieg's Holberg Suite. The melancholy closing movement from the work caps the quintet's release with a texturally rich performance disarming for its grace, dignity, and romantic refinement. Such qualities resonate beautifully in the quintet's hands, especially when the piece gives all five players wonderful material with which to work. Each member has a moment in the spotlight and makes the most of the opportunity. It's always exciting to hear established works revived with imaginative new arrangements, and it's especially rewarding when they're executed with the kind of enthusiasm Sonus Quintett brings to these performances. While only one of the four composers whose works are featured is alive, all of the material has been brought vividly to life by the group, and at fifty-one minutes, the recording's also smartly timed in being neither too short nor too long. October 2024 |