Vedrana Subotic: Chiaroscuro
Blue Griffin Records

Croatian American pianist Vedrana Subotic's Chiaroscuro clearly separates into two groups when it features on the one hand world premiere recordings of five arrangements (two by Igor Iachimciuc, three Christopher O'Riley) of traditional Romani, Bosnian, Macedonian, and Montenegrin folk songs and on the other a spectacular half-hour performance of Liszt's Sonata in B Minor. Both parts argue equally compellingly on behalf of the hour-long release; having the two together makes it all the more appealing. It's an intensely personal project for the Kotor, Montenegro-born Subotic, who's a professor at the University of Utah, as the five songs were favourites she learned on the piano as a child as her mother sang the melodies. And as someone who directs the Liszt Festival and Competition at her university, the composer's sonata is also close to her heart.

Choosing five songs from the many available was a challenge, but those Subotic selected are: “Djelem, Djelem” (I went, I went), a Romani song lamenting the plight of the Roma people; “Kad Ja Podjoh Na Bembašu” (When I went to Bambaša), a Bosnian Sevdah (romantic song) about love's loss; “Makedonsko Dvojece” (Macedonian Girl), which celebrates a Macedonian maiden's beauty; “Još Ne Svice Rujna Zora” (Crimson Dawn Has Not Yet Broken), a Montenegrin lament about the sorrow wrought by death; and “Mujo Kuje Konja Po Mjesecu” (Mujo Shoes His Horse Under the Moonlight), another Bosnian Sevdah, this one about the dynamics of the mother-and-son relationship.

Despite the fact that each folk song emerged at a specific time and place and is thus indelibly tied to its origins, the emotions expressed by the songs are universal when they speak of love, loss, sorrow, joy, and heartache. Even when a scale is noticeably unlike, say, a Western one to which one might be more accustomed, the feelings and mood conveyed through the music come through regardless (in detailed liner notes, Paul Sherrill describes the scalar patterns associated with Turkish, Arabic, and Persian music, for example, and makes special note of the Arabic jins Hijaz, which while important to Arabic classical music was also adopted by Western composers such as Saint-Saëns and Debussy).

“Djelem, Djelem,” which became the official National Anthem of the Romani people in 1971, entrances quickly with a slow, lilting flow of sorrowful melodies before morphing subtly into a jazzier lyrical presentation that still exudes longing despite its swinging pulse. A gradual feeling of uplift infuses the music as Subotic delivers the material with characteristic precision and careful consideration of mood. While the piano doesn't allow for melismatic playing in the way a string or woodwind instrument does, the effect is simulated by Subotic in her expressive articulation of melancholy in the first Sevdah “Kad Ja Podjoh Na Bembašu.” Shifting gears, “Makedonsko Dvojece” captivates for the intricacy of its structural design and decorative lilt. Set in 7/16 and styled as four solo verses with each followed by a choral refrain, the material, written by Jonce Hristovski, exemplifies the melodic and rhythmic qualities of Macedonian folk music. Subotic's sensitivity is called upon by the lament “Još Ne Svice Rujna Zora,” and the pianist succeeds in conveying the sorrow and pain associated with the Montenegrin folk song in her nuanced rendition. The fifth song and second Bosnian Sevdah, "Mujo Kuje Konja Po Mjesecu,” alternates between plaintive melodies and animated interludes, the former affecting in their supplication and the latter rousing in their folk dance-like character. While all five pieces are instrumental treatments, the melodies are often so vocal-like it's easy to imagine the sound of a singer, be it Subotic's mother or otherwise, delivering them alongside the piano.

Whereas the songs are relatively concise, Liszt's sonata, completed in 1853 and published a year later, is an epic adventure that sits comfortably next to the opening pieces when its writing reflects the composer's Hungarian background and Balkan roots. Subotic notes that while the work, which is in a single movement but includes four distinct sections, could be regarded as adhering to either sonata allegro form (exposition, development, recapitulation, coda) or symphonic sonata form (allegro, andante, scherzo, finale), it elaborates on opening themes using transformations and restatements. It's not programmatic but allows for the imposition of any number of narratives, all of which would recognize the grandiosity of its undertaking and its contrasts between light and dark (hence the Chiaroscuro album title) and serenity and passion. Calling it a “symphonic tone poem” as Subotic is also warranted when it possesses the scope of a full-scale symphony (witness the dramatic mountain she climbs at the twenty-six-minute mark); that she sustains such incredible levels of performance, stamina, and concentration for the full measure of this exhausting half-hour work is impressive.

Subotic has been described as an “astute” pianist, and the word's a good one in highlighting the care she brings to these pieces, not only in rendering them accurately, technically speaking, but in capturing their emotional essence. Any number of examples would suffice by way of illustration, but the adjustments in phrasing and tempo she brings to both “Kad Ja Podjoh Na Bembašu” and “Još Ne Svice Rujna Zora” speak volumes about her artistry as a pianist and interpreter.

December 2024