Dialogic parallelisms
The geometric concept of parallel is tied to the fascination of purity: a constant and immutable distance between two straight lines at every point.
Putting two objects in parallel is an operation which, logically, seems to be linear, simple and realizable in such a fashion that the geometrical definition is fully respected. However, an analysis made through a fixed-distance criterion and with no contact whatsoever loses its solidity when one faces the variable aural matter. By extending this reasoning, we can get to the study of the various proportions between the musical works, in a more general and proportioned sound parallelism.
Analogy and symmetry are words which approximate the value of agreement: a constant fusion and integration grounded on the exaltation of the reciprocal correspondences. Thanks to a bending of the intellect, then, the meaning becomes oriented towards an inclination to the encounter, and, more generally, to dialogue. Of course: each piece, on the one hand, maintains the signs of the time it belongs to, and, on the other, it expresses its own distinctive features. However, music has always been the expression of the world which produces it; its continuously evolving path is rooted precisely into the fertile ground of what preceded it, keeping the advantage of time past. This is therefore a balanced polyphony, moving between antiquity and modernity; a tortuous itinerary, articulated into intertwining relationships and links among the pieces, in order to highlight their common features, and finding the simple matrixes of their structural and formal development.
The passage from past to present, from the serene melancholy of what has been to the solid certainty of what now is, is realized also through the timbral variation in the instrumental destination, here applied to a non-original repertoire, with transcriptions from the orchestra to the organ, and from various wind instruments to the saxophone. If the use of other sources of sound becomes a valid strategy for recreating and evoking an ancient thought with modern means, the exploration of the sound goes beyond the boundary of distance and gets nearer to present-day, through the careful analysis of the phonic potential realized by composers of the twentieth and twenty-first century. In these works, experimentation is paired with a concrete and clear writing, moving between classical and contemporary forms, in a parallel dialogue with innovative freedom.
Bernhard Krol
There is precious little information about the biography of the German composer Krol. He was a horn-player in the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra and at the Radio-Symphonieorchester Stuttgart; he had been a student of the celebrated German composer, musicologist and publisher Josef Leopold Rufer (who had been, in turn, a student of Arnold Schönberg and Alban Berg). Krol’s compositional style is clearly distant from serialism, and it finds an expressive oasis at the threshold between late Romanticism and Neoclassicism.
His Antifona (1971) is indeed at the border between a feeling of peace and one of deep inquietude. The listener finds himself or herself at the still point of a continuous oscillation between the consolation offered by the melody, and the harmony’s constant unrest; great moments with an archaic flavor are juxtaposed to neoclassical languages, reminiscent of Paul Hindemith’s style.
In full accord with the classical Greek formal ideal, the two voices of the Antifona dialogue in a series of sound proposals and answers, with broad melodic lines separated by imposing cadences aiming at sustaining the compositional structure. Since the very first moment, an aural world smelling of frankincense welcomes a psalmody with a sacred character. This composition expresses itself through a thematic and dynamic conflict, in an overall rhythmical-descriptive vision. Fixed melodic elements are continuously developed and stated by the organ in the initial Presto, later to be followed by the saxophone in the almost cadenced Andante.
Ornamentation is understood here in a strictly literal sense: the thematic material undergoes a continuing enlargement, until it reaches colossal concluding proportions. The dynamic development is bound to the overall structure: there are numerous changes of pace (eleven, to be exact), in an acrobatic oscillation between the limit sound/silence and the apotheosis of the greatest sonority, in a masterful game of contrasts between light and darkness.
Alan Hovhaness
Alan Hovhaness was a prolific Armenian-born American composer, whose output numbers upwards of five hundred works. His biography tells an unusual story: throughout his entire life as a composer, Hovhaness frequently destroyed his previously-composed scores, as a symbol for a turning point, an abandonment of the past and a new stylistic beginning. An attentive scholar who precisely sought after the language’s perfection, Hovhaness passed through numerous and diverse stages of compositional belonging. A curious and capable organist, he went beyond the horizons of a simple instrumental approach; thanks to his many journeys, he deeply analyzed many musical styles, by listening and practising them locally.
An irreplaceable element in Hovhaness’ music is the quest for simplicity, free from frills and artificial fictions. His Prayer of Saint Gregory sounds precisely in this way: it is direct and sincere, but never meagre or unreal. The linearity of the chorale entrusted to the organ intertwines with the soft and velvety traits of the soloist. The result is a meditative and serenely pacific piece, almost an aural watercolour. Originally written for trumpet and instrumental accompaniment (there exist several heterogeneous versions for string orchestra, wind ensemble, piano or organ), this work, of an intimate nature, is an elaboration of the interlude from the opera Etchmiadzin; it also represented a fertile source of thematic material which ultimately found its way in his Twenty-first Symphony.
Alessandro Palazzani
Palazzani, born in Brescia and representing the younger generation, is noted for his clear, spontaneous, harmonious and accessible style. His musical education is reminiscent of that of the “ancient masters”: the ability to employ the traditional compositional techniques is placed side by side with a continuing experimentation in the instrumental practice. After his diploma in Composition, which he obtained with full marks at the Conservatory of Brescia, this composer deepened his practical knowledge through the study of several musical instruments.
His Pastorale has an evident descriptive vocation; it also offers programmatic indications excerpted from the holy texts of the Gospel of St Luke. This literary inspiration, coming from a bucolic ambience, is therefore absorbed by the compositional process, and is found in the score in the form of captions: “Et pastores errant in regione eadem vigilantes” (“There were shepherds keeping watch in that region”). The performance indication Molto moderato e flessibile is mirrored by the presentation, by the soprano saxophone, of a musical theme with a placid and serene character, as if suggesting the peaceful and relaxed feeling of the shepherds, who are utterly ignorant of what will happen in a few minutes. Suddenly, a luminous beacon irrupts in the Biblical text and in the piece: “Et ecce angelus Domini stetit juxta illos” (“And lo, the Angel of the Lord came upon them”). The saxophone’s style becomes more rhythmical and condensed, leading the listener to a state of sparkling liveliness: the spirit of history has manifested itself. Thick arpeggios by the organ are intertwined with the heavenly calls found in the text, bringing a message (the announcement of Jesus’ birth) among the notes.
Arthur Benjamin
“My life was renewed […], I had clearly understood where happiness lay […]. Listening to such a music became the founding idea of all my reasoning”. Thus Stendhal expressed himself with reference to the music of the Italian composer Domenico Cimarosa. The last important representative of the Neapolitan musical school of the mid-eighteenth century, Cimarosa was an organist at the Royal Chapel of Naples, and he obtained great fame in Italy, Austria, Germany, France and England as a composer of vocal music. His interest for the pedagogy of composition, with particular reference to instrumental music, led Cimarosa to write a series of Sonatas for the harpsichord or fortepiano (of which only thirty-two have survived), aiming at the development of technical and musical skills. Starting from this collection, in 1942, the Australian composer Arthur Benjamin developed his Concerto for oboe and strings. This work, based on four Sonatas by Cimarosa, is full of invention, and occasionally reveals its neo-classical traits. The concerto opens with a languid melody entrusted to the soloist: it germinates from the repetition of a fixed motif, almost an embellishment, while the organ sustains the tune until the final cadenza leading to the second movement. This is a lively piece, which perfectly embodies the Italian style by applying it to a soloistic context. Several aural emotions alternate with each other, up to the Siciliana, whose melodic charm gravitates around a minor-mode tonal centre. This undulates, similar to a boat on the sea, over the organ’s arpeggios, in a melancholic and meditative parenthesis. A joyful section of repeated notes, with melodic citations alluding to the Neapolitan popular music, closes this Concerto with an Allegro giusto.
Roberto Bacchini
Roberto Bacchini is a composer, orchestra conductor, organist and professor. He graduated with the highest score at the Pontificio Istituto Ambrosiano di Musica Sacra in Milan, obtaining a Master’s in Gregorian Chant. As a composer of vocal, instrumental and choral music, he published several collections of sacred music. He founded and conducts the Orchestra Poseidon of Varese, and he regularly performs in concerts with chamber and orchestral ensembles. He is the titular organist of the Mascioni Organ op. 682 at the Collegiata di San Provino in Agno (Switzerland).
His piece, originally for Clarinet in B-flat and organ, is recorded here in a version for soprano saxophone. Vetrate di luce is described by its composer with these words: “These stained-glass windows are those of the Duomo of Milan; or, rather, the inspiring subject of this piece is the light which passes through them. This work begins with grandiose chords by the organ, as if putting their greatness into relief, and reasserting, through the music, their thrust to the top of the cathedral. The saxophone enters immediately after, on tiptoe, as if representing the first sunrays. Then comes the moment of light, an explosion of colours: a new melody, with a joyful character, finds its way among the naves while the organ responds to this dialogue with a sweet counter-melody, entrusted to a registro dolce. Everything becomes more and more intense, until the saxophone leaves to the solo organ the final words: this instrument, in its full solemnity and power, brings to life this blinding light, which fills even the darkest corners of the windows. This piece is certainly played on effects full of harmonies and colours, aiming at filling the listeners with wonder; as if music itself would enchant them and draw them into the ethereal and visual imagination of these rays”.
Album Notes by Lorenzo Ricchelli