Béla Bartók on the Banjo

I just realized that though I don't have the bandwidth to upload anything currently, or the time to write reviews, every once in a while I come across something that would be easy to share with you all. This is one such instance.

Enjoy this and grab it quick! It's free only this weekend. And the music is very very fine as well. Jake Schepps is a really skilled and exploratory banjo player, and the album also features the absolutely incredible young guitarist Grant Gordy (perhaps my favorite living guitarist, and a really nice guy too), and a crop of talented Colorado-based acoustic musicians. I saw them play these tunes live last summer, in an old schoolhouse in the mountains… maybe 30 people in the audience. Just incredible music.

John Fahey attempted to fuse the ideas of Béla Bartók with the "primitive" music of the United States. Jake Schepps' project is another take on the same. Except instead of using American melodies and Bartókian harmonies, he uses Bartók's melodies and an American string band arrangement. And I think you'll find, that like most classical music that was inspired by folk music, it sounds better on folk instruments than on grand pianos.

Enjoy!

Hello Friends,

A short reminder that right now you can download the critically acclaimed album "An Evening in the Village: the Music of Bela Bartok" for FREE.  Please spread the word and let any and all know that for the next two days (March 24, & 25) you can download the entire album with bonus tracks for the big fat price of $0.00.  Bandcamp does offer the option to pay something if you are so inclined, and you can buy a physical copy for only $10.  And as always, if you buy two Bartok CD's you get a free Ten Thousand Leaves.
Facebook info here. Tweet this to your followers by clicking here, and then head straight to Bandcamp to get your copy.

Thanks!

Jake and all the Expedition Quartet
Website | Facebook |Twitter | YouTube

Végh Quartet - Bartók: The Complete String Quartets

In honor of his 130th birthday, I thought we ought to pay some heed to the music of Béla Bartók. Now for those of you who like bluegrass and John Fahey and don't think you like modern classical music, consider this:

1. John Fahey's compositional sense was guided by the desire to try to do with American folk music what Bartók did with Hungarian folk music. Bartók was as great an influence on Fahey as was Charley Patton.
2. Béla Fleck was named after Béla Bartók.
3. This is damn good music, whatever the genre.

Now, secondly, I want you to look at this photo of our man. Look at his eyes. Tell me, does he not burn with the fires of inspiration? Does he not look as crazy, intense, and twisted as Skip James?

Well?
I thought so.

Just remember. As the magic of the blues, Celtic music, and Indian Classical music relies on being in neither a major or minor scale, the music of Bartók derives its particular magic from being both harmonious and discordant, at the same time. If his music was a church (and in some ways it is), half the choir would be singing hallelujah together, while the other half shouted "I AM THE GOAT-HORNED DANCING BOY!"

Amen.

Autobiography written by Béla Bartók in 1921.

I was born on March 25, 1881, in a small place called Nagyszentmiklós, which now, together with the whole county of Torontal, belongs to Rumania. My mother gave me my first piano lessons when I was six years old. My father, who was the head of an agricultural school, was gifted musically and active in many directions. He played the piano, organized an amateur orchestra, learned the cello in order to play that instrument in his orchestra, and composed some dance music. I was eight years old when I lost him. After his death my mother had to work as a schoolmistress and struggle hard for our daily bread. We first went to live at Nagyszöllõs (at present Czechoslovak territory), then to Beszterce in Transylvania (at present Rumanian territory) and in 1893 to Pozsony (Bratislava, at present Czechoslovak territory). I began writing piano music when I was nine years old and made my first public appearance as a “composer” and pianist at Nagyszöllõs in 1891 ; it was therefore a matter of some importance for us to settle at last in a biggish town. Among Hungarian country towns at that time it was Pozsony that had the most vigorous musical life, and by moving there I was given the possibility of having lessons in piano and composition with László Erkel (Ferenc Erkel’s son) and also of hearing a few operas, more or less well performed, and orchestral concerts. I had the opportunity, too, of playing chamber-music, and before I was eighteen I had acquired a fairly thorough knowledge of music from Bach to Brahms (though in Wagner’s work I did not get further than Tannhäuser). All this time I was also busy composing and was under the strong influence of Brahms and Dohnányi (who was four years my senior). Especially Dohnányi’s youthful Opus I influenced me deeply.

When my education at the Gymnasium (high school) was concluded the question arose at which musical academy I should continue my studies. In Pozsony, at that time, the Vienna Conservatorium was considered the sole bastion of serious musical education, but I took Dohnányi’s advice and came to Budapest and became a pupil of István Thomán (in piano) and of Hans Koessler (in composition). I stayed here from 1899 till 1903. I started studying with great enthusiasm Wagner’s work, till then unknown to me – The Ring, Tristan, The Mastersingers – and Liszt’s orchestral compositions. I got rid of the Brahmsian style, but did not succeed via Wagner and Liszt, in finding the new way so ardently desired. (I did not at that time grasp Liszt’s true significance for the development of modern music and only saw the technical brilliance of his compositions.) I did no independent work for two years, and at the Academy of Music was considered only as a first-class pianist.

From this stagnation I was roused as by a lightning stroke by the first performance in Budapest of Thus Spake Zarathustra, in 1902. The work was received with real abhorrence in musical circles here, but it filled me with the greatest enthusiasm. At last there was a way of composing which seemed to hold the seeds of a new life. At once I threw myself into the study of all Strauss’s score and began again to write music myself. Other circumstances entered my life at the same time which proved a decisive influence on my development. It was the time of a new national movement in Hungary, which also took hold of art and music. In music, too, the aim was set to create something specifically Hungarian. When this movement reached me, it drew my attention to studying Hungarian folk music, or, to be more exact, what at that time was considered Hungarian folk music.

Under these diverse influences I composed in 1903 a symphonic poem entitled Kossuth, which was at once accepted for performance by János Richter, and was performed in Manchester in February 1904. Other compositions of the same period are a Violin Sonata and a piano Quintet. The former was performed by Rudolf Fitzner in Vienna, the latter by the Prill Quartet. These three works remain unpublished. In 1904 I composed my Rhapsody for piano and Orchestra (Opus I), which I entered for the Rubinstein competition in Paris but without success. In 1905 I wrote my first Suite for Large Orchestra.

Meanwhile the magic of Richard Strauss had evaporated. A really thorough study of Liszt’s --uvre, especially of some of his less well known works, like Années de Pélerinage, Harmonies Poétiques et religieuses, the Faust Symphony, Totentanz, and others had after being stripped of their mere external brilliance which I did not like, revealed to me the true essence of composing. I began to understand the significance of the composer’s work. For the future development of music his --uvre seemed to me of far greater importance than that of Strauss or even Wagner.

In my studies of folk music I discovered that what we had known as Hungarian folk songs till then were more or less trivial songs by popular composers and did not contain much that was valuable. I felt an urge to go deeper into this question and set out in 1905 to collect and study Hungarian peasant music unknown until then. It was my great good luck to find a helpmate for this work in Zoltán Kodály, who, owing to his deep insight and sound judgment in all spheres of music, could give me many a hint and much advice that proved of immense value. I started these investigations on entirely musical grounds and pursued them in areas which linguistically were purely Hungarian. Later on I became fascinated by the scientific implications of my musical material and extended my work over territories which were linguistically Slovakian and Rumanian.

The outcome of these studies was of decisive influence upon my work, because it freed me from the tyrannical rule of the major and minor keys. The greater part of the collected treasure, and the more valuable part, was in old ecclesiastical or old Greek modes, or based on more primitive (pentatonic) scales, and the melodies were full of most free and varied rhythmic phrases and changes of tempi, played both rubato and giusto. It became clear to me that the old modes, which had been forgotten in our music, had lost nothing of their vigour. Their new employment made new rhythmic combinations possible. This new way of using the diatonic scale brought freedom from the rigid use of the major and minor keys, and eventually led to a new conception of the chromatic scale, every tone of which came to be considered of equal value and could be used freely and independently.

When an appointment to the chair of piano teaching at the Academy of Music in Budapest was offered to me in 1907 I considered this a happy event because it enabled me to settle in Hungary and to continue my studies in musical folklore. In 1907, at the instigation of Kodály, I became acquainted with Debussy’s work, studied it through thoroughly and was greatly surprised to find in his work “pentatonic phrases” similar in character to those contained in our peasant music. I was sure these could be attributed to influences of folk music from Eastern Europe, very likely from Russia. Similar influences can be traced in Igor Stravinsky’s work. It seems therefore that, in our age, modern music has developed along similar lines in countries geographically far away from each other. It has become rejuvenated under the influence of kind of peasant music that has remained untouched by the musical creations of the last centuries. My works which, from Opus 4 onward, tried to convey something of the development just described were received in Budapest with animosity.

This lack of understanding had many reasons, one of which was the inadequacy of the performances in which our new orchestral works were heard. We could find neither a conductor who would understand our works nor an orchestra able to perform them. In 1911, when these controversies became very heated, a number of young musicians, Kodály and myself among them, tried hard to found a New Hungarian Musical Society. The chief aim of the new organization would have been to form an orchestra able to perform old, new and recent music in a proper way. But we strove in vain, we could not achieve our aim.

Other more personal disappointments were added to this broken plan and in 1912 I retired completely from public life. With more enthusiasm than ever I devoted myself to studies in musical folklore. More than one daring journey to faraway countries was planned in my head, out of which, as a modest beginning, one only was carried out. In 1913 I travelled to Biskra [Algeria] and the surrounding countryside, collecting Arabic folk music. Then came the outbreak of the war, which - apart from general human considerations - hit me very hard because it put an end to my work. Only a small part of Hungary remained open to my studies and I worked there under hampered conditions till 1918.
The years 1917 marked a turning point in Budapest’s audience attitude about my works. I had the chance to hear my ballet The Wooden Prince, brilliantly performed by the master Egisto Tango who, in 1918, conducted also the performance of my opera in one act, written in 1911 : The Bluebeard’s Castle

This auspicious turning point was unfortunately followed by the political and economical collapse of 1918 autumn. The period of unrest that followed and lasted about 18 months didn’t allows to work seriously.

Even the current situation doesn’t allow to think about the resumption of the works related to folk music. We can’t afford this luxury ; on the other hand, the scientific exploration of territory detached from Hungary is almost impossible for political reasons and because of mutual hostility. As for to visit faraway countries, it’s an unrealisable dream.

Besides, no real interest appears in the world for this branch of musicology. Who know ? Maybe it hasn’t the importance that these fanatics assign to it.

Béla Bartók - Biography
by Michael Rodman
Through his far-reaching endeavors as composer, performer, educator, and ethnomusicolgist, Béla Bartók emerged as one of the most forceful and influential musical personalities of the twentieth century. Born in Nagyszentmiklós, Hungary (now Romania), on March 25, 1881, Bartók began his musical training with piano studies at the age of five, foreshadowing his lifelong affinity for the instrument. Following his graduation from the Royal Academy of Music in 1901 and the composition of his first mature works -- most notably, the symphonic poem Kossuth (1903) -- Bartók embarked on one of the classic field studies in the history of ethnomusicology. With fellow countryman and composer Zoltán Kodály, he traveled throughout Hungary and neighboring countries, collecting thousands of authentic folk songs. Bartók's immersion in this music lasted for decades, and the intricacies he discovered therein, from plangent modality to fiercely aggressive rhythms, exerted a potent influence on his own musical language.

In addition to his compositional activities and folk music research, Bartók's career unfolded amid a bustling schedule of teaching and performing. The great success he enjoyed as a concert artist in the 1920s was offset somewhat by difficulties that arose from the tenuous political atmosphere in Hungary, a situation exacerbated by the composer's frank manner. As the specter of fascism in Europe in the 1930s grew ever more sinister, he refused to play in Germany and banned radio broadcasts of his music there and in Italy. A concert in Budapest on October 8, 1940, was the composer's farewell to the country which had provided him so much inspiration and yet caused him so much grief. Days later, Bartók and his wife set sail for America.

In his final years Bartók was beleaguered by poor health. Though his prospects seemed sunnier in the final year of his life, his last great hope -- to return to Hungary -- was dashed in the aftermath of World War II. He died of leukemia in New York on September 26, 1945. The composer's legacy included a number of ambitious but unrealized projects, including a Seventh String Quartet; two major works, the Viola Concerto and the Piano Concerto No. 3, were completed from Bartók's in-progress scores and sketches by his pupil, Tibor Serly.

From its roots in the music he performed as a pianist -- Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, Brahms -- Bartók's own style evolved through several stages into one of the most distinctive and influential musical idioms of the first half of the twentieth century. The complete assimilation of elements from varied sources -- the Classical masters, contemporaries like Debussy, folk songs -- is one of the signal traits of Bartók's music. The polychromatic orchestral textures of Richard Strauss had an immediate and long-lasting effect upon Bartók's own instrumental sense, evidenced in masterpieces such as Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta (1936) and the Concerto for Orchestra (1945). Bartók demonstrated an especial concern with form in his exploitation and refinement of devices like palindromes, arches, and proportions based on the "golden section." Perhaps above all other elements, though, it is the ingenious application of rhythm that gives Bartók's music its keen edge. Inspired by the folk music he loved, Bartók infused his works with asymmetrical, sometimes driving, often savage, rhythms, which supply violent propulsion to works such as Allegro barbaro (1911) and the Sonata for Two Pianos and Percussion (1937). If a single example from Bartók's catalogue can be regarded as representative, it is certainly the piano collection Mikrokosmos (1926-1939), originally intended as a progressive keyboard primer for the composer's son, Peter. These six volumes, comprising 153 pieces, remain valuable not only as a pedagogical tool but as an exhaustive glossary of the techniques -- melodic, harmonic, rhythmic, formal -- that provided a vessel for Bartók's extraordinary musical personality.

Végh Quartet - Biography
by Robert Cummings
The Végh Quartet was not only one of the finest string quartets from mid-twentieth century Europe, but its style was never subjected to radical change over the years from personnel changes because the four original players remained members for 38 of the 40 years of the ensemble's existence. Its style evolved in subtle ways, of course, but its essential character endured until 1978: the quartet was Central European in its sound, with a bit more prominence given to the cello in order to build tonal qualities from the bottom upward. The Végh Quartet was best known for its cycles -- two each -- of the Beethoven and Bartók quartets. It also performed and recorded many of the Haydn quartets, as well as numerous other staples of the repertory by Mozart, Schumann, Brahms, and Debussy. For a group that disbanded in 1980, its recordings are still quite popular, with major efforts available in varied reissues from Music & Arts, Archipel, Naïve, and Orfeo.

The Végh Quartet was founded in 1940 by its eponymic first violinist Sándor Végh. The other original members were Sándor Zöldy (second violin), Georges Janzer (viola), and Paul Szabó (cello). The war years were hardly productive for the group, but in 1946 the Végh players settled in France and launched their international career. Soon they were making regular concert tours across the globe with great critical acclaim, and their first major recordings appeared in the early '50s: six quartets by Mozart (K. 387, 421, 458, 464, 575, and 590) in 1951-1952 on the André Charlin label and the complete Beethoven quartets in 1952 on the Les Discophiles Français label. The complete Bartók quartets came in 1954 on EMI and met with the same critical success.

The ensemble's reputation flourished in the 1960s and '70s, even though Sándor Végh had developed a parallel conducting career and had always been active as a music teacher, first in Switzerland, then in Germany and Austria. The group continued making international tours and issued numerous successful recordings during this period, including remakes of the Beethoven quartets (1972-1974, on Auvidis/Valois) and the Bartók six (1972, on Astrée). In 1978 Zöldy and Janzer left the group and were replaced by violinist Philipp Naegele and violist Bruno Giuranna. Végh himself took up a conducting post that same year in Salzburg with the Salzburg Camerata Academica. The group disbanded two years later.

Végh Quartet - Bartók: Complete String Quartets

Year: 1997 (released); 1972 (recorded)
Label: Valois

Tracks:
Disc: 1
1. String Quartet No. 1 in A minor, Sz. 40, BB 52 (Op. 7)
2. String Quartet No. 2 in A minor, Sz. 67, BB 75 (Op. 17): I. Moderato
3. String Quartet No. 2 in A minor, Sz. 67, BB 75 (Op. 17): II. Allegro molto capriccioso
4. String Quartet No. 2 in A minor, Sz. 67, BB 75 (Op. 17): III. Lento

Disc: 2
1. String Quartet No. 3 in C sharp major, Sz. 85, BB 93
2. String Quartet No. 4 in C major, Sz. 91, BB 95: I. Allegro
3. String Quartet No. 4 in C major, Sz. 91, BB 95: II. Prestissimo, con sordino
4. String Quartet No. 4 in C major, Sz. 91, BB 95: III. Non troppo lento
5. String Quartet No. 4 in C major, Sz. 91, BB 95: IV. Allegretto pizzicato
6. String Quartet No. 4 in C major, Sz. 91, BB 95: V. Allegro molto

Disc: 3
1. String Quartet No. 5 in B flat major, Sz. 102, BB 110: I. Allegro
2. String Quartet No. 5 in B flat major, Sz. 102, BB 110: II. Adagio molto
3. String Quartet No. 5 in B flat major, Sz. 102, BB 110: III. Scherzo
4. String Quartet No. 5 in B flat major, Sz. 102, BB 110: IV. Andante
5. String Quartet No. 5 in B flat major, Sz. 102, BB 110: V. Finale
6. String Quartet No. 6 in D major, Sz. 114, BB 119: I. Mesto - Piu mosso, pesante - Vivace
7. String Quartet No. 6 in D major, Sz. 114, BB 119: II. Mesto - Marcia
8. String Quartet No. 6 in D major, Sz. 114, BB 119: III. Mesto - Burletta
9. String Quartet No. 6 in D major, Sz. 114, BB 119: IV. Mesto

You can also get some free downloads from banjoist Jake Schepps' upcoming Bartók album here: jakeschepps.bandcamp.com.

Oscar Shumsky - Eugène Ysaÿe: 6 Sonatas for Solo Violin

Another solo violin masterpiece! Just as good as Andrew Manze playing Tartini, but in a totally different way. It gets back into a corner and stares you in the eye like it will kill you, and then it takes off on unexpectedly gracious flights of fancy through the starbound firmament, only to return, perching on your rooftop, peering back at you expectantly. This music is ruthless in its beauty. It takes no prisoners, and will settle for nothing less than its ultimate prize: structured emptiness. Because that is what you are left with after listening to the 6 sonatas here - you are left with a very neat and tidy chest of lost memories and hungry ghosts. And with the sense that the violin is a white monster on the prowl, keeping just outside the confines of your ears' horizon.

Eugène Ysaÿe - Biography
by Edward Moore
Eugène Ysaÿe was one of the greatest violinists who ever lived. He coupled beauty of tone and remarkable technical ability with a depth of musical expression that few violinists before or since can be said to have equalled, or even approached. Ysaÿe succeeded in breathing new life into an art that had become polarized by two divergent styles and personalities: the austere temperament of Joseph Joachim (1831-1907), and the flashy virtuosity of Pablo de Sarasate (1844-1908). Ysaÿe achieved a grand synthesis of these two approaches by imbuing the "serious" music of Mozart, Brahms, and Beethoven, so dear to Joachim, with the flashy yet never superficial brilliance that Sarasate had been wont to apply to "lesser" works in the repertoire. Ysaÿe became the leading violinist of his time, spawning many illustrious pupils and proteges, among them Josef Gingold and Fritz Kreisler. Ysaÿe was also an accomplished composer, whose Six Sonatas for Solo Violin, Opus 27 (1924) are recognized masterpieces of the genre.

Eugène Ysaÿe was born on July 16, 1858 in Liege, Belgium. He received his first violin lessons from his father when he was five years old. After this he studied with Rodolphe Massart, making his first public appearance at age seven. Ysaÿe was not, however, a prodigy; he was later kicked out of the Liege Conservatory due to poor performance! But he persisted, and went on to study with the famous violinist and composer Henryk Wieniawski (1835-80) with whom he made considerable progress; he was soon accepted as a student by the legendary Belgian violinist-composer Henri Vieuxtemps (1820-81).

In 1879, Ysaÿe made the acquaintance of Joseph Joachim, and performed with Clara Schumann. He soon began touring, visiting Norway in 1881, and playing at the Paris Conservatory in 1883. In Paris, he befriended the composer Cesar Franck, who wrote his beautiful Sonata for Piano and Violin in A Major (1886) as a wedding present for Ysaÿe. This work soon became a signature piece for the violinist, who stamped it with his own inimitable style.

During this period, Ysaÿe founded the Concerts in Brussels that bore his name, as well as his own string quartet, which included his pupil Mathieu Crickboom, to whom Ysaÿe later dedicated the fifth of his Six Sonatas for Solo Violin. This ensemble premiered Claude Debussy's String Quartet No. 1 in G Minor, Opus 10 in 1893. A year later Ysaÿe made his first appearance in America, where he met with tremendous sucess, finally returning in 1918 to take over the post of conductor for the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra which he held until 1922.

After his retirement from conducting, Ysaÿe devoted himself fully to composing, and the teaching of a select group of pupils, including Josef Gingold, who later went on to achieve international fame. By this time, Ysaÿe's performance technique had declined, due to a rapid deterioration of his right-arm stability -- a condition known to violinists as "bow tremor." This was probably the result of diabetes, with which he had been struggling for some time. Despite the fact that his performance career lasted for only 25 years, Ysaÿe exercised a tremendous influence on violinsts -- an influence still being felt today. His personal aura and grand musical sensibility were only two aspects of a complex personality that not only "played" but also lived the music he held dear. He was an authentic performer, an artist of immense stature and unmatched musical ability. Eugène Ysaÿe died on May 12, 1931, at the age of 72.



6 Sonatas for Solo Violin: Compostition Description
by Joseph Stevenson
Despite the fact that Ysaÿe had no formal training as a composer, his works are not only masterfully crafted, demonstrating various dimensions of violinistic expressiveness and sonority, but also provide the listener with a remarkable aesthetic experience. As a peerless virtuoso, Ysaÿe writes with a profound understanding of the violin's soul; as a performer deeply immersed in the music of his time, he evinces a familiarity with many styles; yet Ysaÿe's music, despite many recognizable echoes of other composers, clearly exhibits an unmistakable artistic individuality.

Inspired by a Bach recital by Joseph Szigeti, Ysaÿe's outlined these six sonatas in a day. The six works are dedicated to, respectively, Szigeti, Jacques Thibaud, George Enescu, Fritz Kreisler, Mathieu Crickboom (a member of the Ysaÿe Quartet), and Manuel Quiroga. Because each sonata is dedicated to a violinist, or, in some cases, a violinist-composer, every work has a distinct individuality. For example, Sonata No. 6 has a subtle, but unmistakable, Iberian flavor. Predictably, the sonata dedicated to George Enescu conjures up a truly Central European atmosphere. Like Fritz Kreisler, Ysaÿe in Sonata No. 4 re-creates the Baroque style with remarkable charm; this is a Baroque, or quasi-Baroque, sound which seduces the listener by its unpretentious spontaneity and freshness. Significantly, while exploring a variety of musical styles, Ysaÿe never lapses into sterile eclecticism; after all, these works are marked by his powerful individuality. Underlying his tasteful stylistic explorations is Ysaÿe's boundless interest in, and fascination by, his instrument. Containing an array of extreme, even breathtaking, technical challenges, these sonatas also explore the rich sonorities of the violin, with particular emphasis on original, and perhaps surprising, harmonic effects.

Oscar Shumsky - Biography
by Blair Johnston
There must have been something special in American water during the 1910s, something that allowed an unusual number of the children born during the decade to develop into violin prodigies of extraordinary gifts: Yehudi Menuhin and Ruggiero Ricci come straight to mind, and of course Isaac Stern (who was not really a prodigy as such, but why quibble?), and then, a minute later, the lesser-known but equally-brilliant Oscar Shumsky, born in 1917 and active as a performer all the way up into the 1990s. With this group of young American violinists, the North America made its first true bid for musical equality with the First World. When Shumsky passed on in July 2000, one of the last remaining links (they are growing ever more precious) to a beautiful bygone era was lost -- but not, thanks to modern recording technology and a class of distinguished pupils, forgotten.

Shumsky was born in Philadelphia, PA, to a Russian immigrant family on March 23, 1917. Early lessons on the violin were fully absorbed, and, at Leopold Stokowski's invitation, Shumsky appeared as soloist with the Philadelphia Orchestra in Josef Suk's Fantasy for violin and orchestra (or, according to alternate accounts, in Mozart's Violin Concerto No.5!) at the tender age of 8. During the late 1920s and throughout the 1930s, Shumsky studied with a pair of the finest teachers in the world: Leopold Auer (teacher of, among other distinguished pupils, the great Jascha Heifetz) and Efrem Zimbalist (a great violinist, who is nevertheless better known today as the father of the Hollywood personage by the same name). Shumsky joined Toscanini's NBC Orchestra just before the outbreak of World War II and stayed with it for about three years, all the while working to build a solo career and also playing with the Primrose String Quartet. He taught at one time or another at many schools, including the Peabody Conservatory, the Juilliard School, and the Curtis Institute. In the 1950s he began adding appearances as a conductor to his résumé. His solo career was not a particularly steady one -- he all but ceased giving concerts in the 1950s and only took up an active schedule again when he was in his sixties!

Shumsky's playing was distinguished by a velvety sonority (partly the product of the fine 1715 Stradivarius violin, the "ex-Rode," that he usually played) that nevertheless was wholly capable of steel-rimmed force when need be, and also by a refinement of manner that, while doing little to make his name one widely known to the general public, endeared him to serious music lovers around the world. Of his many recordings, the complete set of Mozart violin sonatas that he made with Artur Balsam is of special value.




Oscar Shumsky - Eugène Ysaÿe: 6 Sonatas for Solo Violin, Op. 27
Year: 1992
Label: Nimbus

Oscar Schumsky was a master of this legendary instrument. The musical world was well aware his virtues as interpreter and pedagogue. But for better or worst, just a few soloists have kept into account the transcendental importance of these sonatas into the literature for violin solo. As far I remember, Ruggiero Ricci was captured and seduced by these pages (as matter of fact the CD has not been released yet, uniquely available on LP format on the label Candide). 

But when Schumsky decided to be part of this excel minority of notable violinists, probably he was not aware he was writing with golden letters, a glorious incursion to the immortality with these magisterial performances. 

Until this date no other soloist has been able to approach respect this sublime performance. 

A desert island issue, inch by inch.

Tracks:
1. Sonata for violin solo No. 1 in G minor, Op. 27/1: Grave
2. Sonata for violin solo No. 1 in G minor, Op. 27/1: Fugato
3. Sonata for violin solo No. 1 in G minor, Op. 27/1: Allegretto poco scherzoso
4. Sonata for violin solo No. 1 in G minor, Op. 27/1: Finale con brio
5. Sonata for violin solo No. 2 in A minor ('Obsession'), Op. 27/2: Obesession: Prelude
6. Sonata for violin solo No. 2 in A minor ('Obsession'), Op. 27/2: Malinconia
7. Sonata for violin solo No. 2 in A minor ('Obsession'), Op. 27/2: Danse des Ombres: Sarabande
8. Sonata for violin solo No. 2 in A minor ('Obsession'), Op. 27/2: Les Furies
9. Sonata for violin solo No. 3 in D minor ('Ballade'), Op. 27/3
10. Sonata for solo violin No. 4 in E minor (dedicated to F. Kreisler), Op. 27/4: Allemanda
11. Sonata for solo violin No. 4 in E minor (dedicated to F. Kreisler), Op. 27/4: Sarabanda
12. Sonata for solo violin No. 4 in E minor (dedicated to F. Kreisler), Op. 27/4: Finale
13. Sonata for violin solo No. 5 in G major ('Pastorale'), Op. 27/5: L'Aurore
14. Sonata for violin solo No. 5 in G major ('Pastorale'), Op. 27/5: Danse Rustique
15. Sonata for violin solo No. 6, Op. 27/6

Andrew Manze - Tartini: The Devil's Sonata

There are very few solo violin recordings. Sometimes it seems as though guitars, banjos, basses, etc were all invented for the sole purpose of backing up the violin. This is of course not true, but it illustrates my point. Having such a high range, it's difficult to make the violin produce a full listening experience. And those pieces that do so tend to require an exacting amount of virtuosity to play. Which is basically the story with these ones.

But something more is at work here than mere bravura. This is devilmusic. 18th Century devilmusic, but devilmusic all the same. Scotty Stoneman was talking to the same cloven-hoofed fiddler as Tartini. And that Prince of Darkness showed both men the same thing. He showed them that if you play two notes at the same time on the fiddle, and you play them both HARD, demons are released, in the form of bastard notes that spring from the soundboard and hover in the air, unresting, part of no melody, teasing their way into the listener's soul. And this is how the devil converts souls to his purposes. He recruits fiddlers to play music that gets people FEELING and then maybe even DANCING and before you know it, they've cast aside their harps and are enjoying this Garden of Earthly Delights, drunk on the soup of inspiration.

And Andrew Manze is probably the only classical violinist in the world that understands this, which is why he plays it like this.

So remember, it may be old, but it's still just as evil.

Tartini: Biography
by Blair Johnston
Despite Italian composer Giuseppe Tartini's important place in musical history, he remains known to most musicians only as the composer of the "Devil's Trill" violin sonata. Born on the Istrian peninsula in 1692, Tartini was the son of a minor government official in the city of Pirano (now Piran, Slovenia). Although his parents had selected a monastic life for Tartini when he was very young, in 1708 he rejected his clerical training to pursue a course of instruction in music. Soon, however, he seems to have enrolled at the University of Padua as a student of law, and was more famed during his younger days as a dueler and swordsman than as a trained musician. Despite still officially being a candidate for the priesthood, Tartini married in 1710, and, having thereby incurred the wrath of the Paduan bishop, found it necessary to hide out in the monastery at Assisi for a time. He put his time to good use: apparently he made a rigorous study of music, and by 1714 he seems to have found employment with the opera orchestra at Ancona.

Reunited with his wife in 1715, Tartini spent the next several years trying to perfect his violin technique. The legend is that he heard the virtuoso Francesco Veracini perform and resolved to live in isolation until he could accomplish the same amazing feats of dexterity. By 1720, he was engaged as soloist and leader of the orchestra at St. Anthony's in Padua. Until an arm injury in 1740 seriously limited his career, Tartini fulfilled his duties at St. Anthony's even as he built a widespread reputation as the leading violinist of his day. He made an extended visit to Prague between 1723 and 1726. Officially retiring from St. Anthony's in 1765, Tartini remained active as a teacher until a mild stroke, which he suffered in 1768, incapacitated him even further. Tartini died in 1770, the year of Beethoven's birth.

Tartini was the founder of an important school of violin playing, subsequently disseminated by such noteworthy pupils as Pietro Nardini and Johann Gottlieb Naumann. Because he did not seek fame as a composer, very little of Tartini's music was published during his lifetime. Some 135 violin concerti and over 200 violin sonatas (some of which, however, are spurious) still survive in manuscript form. A smattering of sacred vocal works (such as the Stabat Mater composed during the final year of his life) and a few sinfonias, trio sonatas, and four-part sonatas round off Tartini's considerable output. In addition to his activities as a violinist and composer, Tartini became increasingly interested in theories of acoustics and harmony as the years went by, and his 1754 theoretical treatise Trattato di musica secondo la vera scienza dell'armonia attempts to account for contemporary harmonic thinking in terms of the overtone series and to promote Tartini's own discovery of "sub-tones" in that series. Despite its lofty intentions (or perhaps because of them) the Trattato is not a particularly accurate or informative text; it does, however, provide great insight into the mind of this remarkable musician.



Some More interesting info on Tartini:
Italian violinist, composer and musical theorist, was born at Tirano in Istria on the 12th of April 1692. In early life he studied, with equal want of success, for the church, the law courts, and the profession of arms. As a young man he was wild and irregular, and he crowned his improprieties by clandestinely marrying the niece of Cardinal Cornaro, Archbishop of Padua. The cardinal resented the marriage as a disgraceful mésalliance, and denounced it so violently that the unhappy bridegroom, thinking his life in danger, fled for safety to a monastery at Assisi, where his character underwent a complete change. He studied the theory of music under Padre Boemo, the organist of the monastery, and, without any assistance whatever, taught himself to play the violin in so masterly a style that his performances in the church became the wonder of the neighborhood. For more than two years his identity remained undiscovered, but one day the wind blew aside a curtain behind which he was playing, and one of his hearers recognized him and betrayed his retreat to the cardinal, who, hearing of his changed character, readmitted him to favor and restored him to his wife.

Tartini next removed to Venice, where the fine violin-playing of Veracini excited his admiration and prompted him to repeir, by the aid of good instruction, the shortcomings of his own self-taught method. He left his wife with relations and returned to Ancona, where he studied for a time. In 1721 he returned to Padua, where he was appointed solo violinist at the church of San Antonio. From 1723 to 1725 he acted as conductor of Count Kinsky's private band in Prague. In 1728 he founded a school for violin in Padua. The date of his presence in Rome does not seem to be clearly established, but he was in Bologna in 1739. Afterwards he returned to his old post in Padua, where he died on the 16th of February 1770.

Tartini's compositions are very numerous, and faithfully illustrate his passionate and masterly styie of execution, which surpassed in brilliancy and refined taste that of all his contemporaries. He frequently headed his pieces with an explanatory poetical motto, such as "Ombra cara", or "Volgete il riso in pianto o mie pupille." Concerning that known as Il Trillo del Diavolo, or The Devil's Sonata, he told a curious story to Lalande, in 1766. He dreamed that the devil had become his slave, and that he one day asked him if he could play the violin. The devil replied that he believed he could pick out a tune, and thereupon he played a sonata so exquisite that Tartini thought he had never heard any music to equal it. On awaking he tried to note down the composition, but succeeded very imperfectly, though the Devil's Sonata is one of his best productions.

Tartini is historically important as having contributed to the science of acoustics as well as to musical art by his discovery (independently of Sorge, 1740, to whom the primary credit is now given) of what are still called "Tartini's tones", or differential tones.

The phenomenon is this: when any two notes are produced steadily and with great intensity, a third note is heard, whose vibration number is the difference of those of the two primary notes. It follows from this that any two consecutive members of a harmonic series have the fundamental of that series for their difference tone -- thus, (E/C), the fourth and fifth harmonic, produce (C), the prime or generator, at the interval of two octaves under the lower of those two notes; (E/G), the third and fifth harmonic, produce (C), the second harmonic, at the interval of a 5th under the lower of those two notes. The discoverer was wont to tell his pupils that their double-stopping was not in tune unless they could hear the third note; and Henry Blagrove (1811-1872) gave the same admonition. The phenomenon has other than technical significance; an experiment by Sir F. A. G. Ouseley showed that two pipes, tuned by measurement to so acute a pitch as to render the notes of both inaudible by human ears, when blown together produce the difference of tone of the inaudible primaries, and this verifies the fact of the infinite upward range of sound which transcends the perceptive power of human organs. The obverse of this fact is that of any sound being deepened by an 8th if the length of the string or pipe which produces it be doubled. The law is without exception throughout the compass in which our ears can distinguish pitch, and so, of necessity, a string of twice the length of that whose vibrations induce the deepest perceivable sound must stir the air at such a rate as to cause a tone at an 8th below that lowest audible note. It is hence manifest that, however limited our sense of the range of musical sound, this range extends upward and downward to infinity. Tartini made his observations the basis of a theoretical system which he set forth in his Trattato di Musica, Secondo la Vera Scienzia dell'Armonia (Padua, 1754) and Dei Principij dell'Armonia Musicale (Padua, 1767). He also wrote a Trattato delle Appogiature, posthumously printed in French, and an unpublished work, Delle Ragioni e delle Proporzioni, the manuscript of which has been lost.

Andrew Manze - Biography
by Joseph Stevenson
Andrew Manze has emerged as one of the leading violinists in the early music movement. He specializes in music from between 1610 and 1830. His education began at Cambridge, where he studied Classics. He then moved on to music studies at the Royal Academy of Music in London and at the Royal Conservatory in The Hague, studying with both Simon Standage and Marie Leonhardt. Manze then joined the Amsterdam Baroque Orchestra, remaining there until 1993. The following year he began collaborating with harpsichordist Richard Egarr. One of their major releases presented a 1712 collection of violin sonatas by the French composer Jean-Féry Rebel. Meanwhile, Manze formed the group Romanesca, with harpsichordist John Tell and lutenist Nigel North; the trio specialized in music of the seventeenth century. In 1996 Manze was appointed associate director and concertmaster of the London-based Baroque group The Academy of Ancient Music. In the 2003-2004 season, he became music director of The English Concert.

Manze is well-known in Britain for his broadcast work. He has become a popular "presenter" on BBC radio, and made his debut with the BBC Promenade Concert in 1998. That concert was televised nationally, with Manze playing concertos by Pergolesi, Bach, Vivaldi, and Mozart, and introducing the public to the enthusiasm and directness of the new ways of performing Baroque and Classic music.

Recording for the French Harmonia Mundi label, Manze won Gramophone, Edison, and Cannes Classical awards for his recording with Romanesca of Biber's flashy and mystical violin sonatas. His playing of Vivaldi's newly discovered "Manchester" sonatas won the Premio Internazionale del Disco Vivaldi Antica Italiana. His album Phantasticus won the Cannes Classical Award and a Diapason D'Or. The later award was also given to his recording of Schmelzer's violin sonatas. Manze was named the 1998 Classical Artist of the Year.

Manze is in demand as an expert in Baroque music interpretation. He serves as a performance advisor and director for the European Community Baroque Orchestra, gives master classes, and has been visiting professor at the Royal College of Music in London. He is also a busy soloist on the international concert scene, appearing in one season with the Zurich Chamber Orchestra, the Swedish Chamber Orchestra, the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, the Canadian early music group Tafelmusik, and the Berlin Philharmonic.

He is known for his freedom of ornamentation, bringing an improvisatory excitement to his concerts. Manze lives with his wife (also a violinist) in England's Cotswolds region.


More on Manze:
Andrew Manze is an internationally known English violinist whom The New York Times has called "the Grappelli of the baroque." Manze is not only a highly accomplished chamber player but associate director of the prestigious Academy of Ancient Music based in London. He shared his contagious enthusiasm with us in a break between rehearsals.

Andrew Manze mastered the violin gradually, almost as a dilettante. At the age of ten, after he had been playing the recorder for a few years, someone suggested that he should study a "real" instrument. His spontaneous choice was the oboe, but the orthodontist thought otherwise. He then opted for the practical solution of studying the violin - "the instrument in the house" (his father played it as a youngster). The school music program provided an admirable start. "By the time I was 11, I was already playing in an orchestra. I've played in orchestras ever since! At 14, I did my first international tour. When I was 18 years old, I was quite well travelled. It was a fantastic opportunity to learn orchestral technique on the spot."

His love of baroque music developed during his studies at Cambridge. Even though he was studying classics (Greek and Latin), he continued to play the violin. His friend Richard Egarr had just discovered the harpsichord. He organized a baroque ensemble and persuaded Manze to try his hand. "It was a struggle at first but I'm glad now I discovered that repertoire. Richard is still talking to me and I'm still talking to him!" he chuckles.

Other youthful encounters also transformed his life. The wife of the great harpsichordist, Gustav Leonhardt, took him under her wing. Mrs. Leonhardt, a musician herself, was "a wonderful guide," says Manze. In 1988 he met Ton Koopman, conductor of the Amsterdam Baroque Orchestra. "It clicked right away. We appealed to one another," Manze remembers. Koopman hired Manze then and there. He made his debut with the orchestra in the second violin section, but moved quickly to concertmaster.

Manze left Amsterdam in 1993 to devote his time to conducting. He feels that freedom is a must for interpreting baroque music. "After all, when you are the first to play that repertoire, you can't ask anyone for input. The music was very much alive then and it still should be today. If a listener goes to hear a concert, we owe it to him to give a one-of-a-kind experience. If I were to play one piece the same way I did two months ago, it would be missing a key ingredient: flexibility. The performance obviously varies depending on how the musician is feeling. It should also depend on the venue you are playing in, its acoustics. It can be strongly affected by the character of the audience, how they react to the experience. For example, the German public take their baroque music very seriously, listening with great concentration. I look forward to playing in Canada, a nation I don't know very well. It's always interesting to feel, to experience an audience and find out what happens to the music as a result."

Paradoxically, the essence of baroque music is somewhat defeated by its mass popularity, Manze outlines the irony of the situation. "We're asked to play in rooms way too big for the instruments, originally designed to be played in churches or small domestic venues." He remembers the Domaine Forget concert hall in great detail, and considers it an ideal venue.

Asked why baroque music has become so popular in recent years, Manze suggested several reasons. "If the music is well chosen and presented in the right spirit, it is extremely good quality music. Bach can stand comparison to any of the major composers. The music is also extremely well structured, very melodic, entertaining and it has got drama to it." He draws a parallel with the attraction western civilization feels for novelty. "Music lovers are interested in new repertoire but they've been burnt by some contemporary music. They become wary of it. Maybe baroque music benefited from the fact that a lot of contemporary music is not accessible. It must be possible to write contemporary music which says all the things you want to say but doesn't provoke the 'yuck' feeling!"

Manze doesn't entirely reject contemporary repertoire: on the contrary, his wife is actually a specialist in this rarefied field, and the Academy of Ancient Music has interpreted John Tavener's Eternity's Sunrise (in 1998) and Total Eclipse (June 20, 2000). Tavener is one of the most popular English composers of the day, and Manze appreciated being able to ask him about specific details of interpretation. In the process, he learned that composers are generally not dogmatic. "It's cowardly to justify oneself with an 'I ought to do this.' It's like hiding on stage behind a corpse. I always imagine what the composer would say if he were there. He probably wouldn't be concentrating on my question; he probably would be amazed by the technological progress. His music would be the last thing he would want to talk about."

Manze's crowded schedule doesn't give him time for regular pupils. He enjoys master classes, however. "The questions asked by students are often the same questions I ask myself." Some of his former students have become fellow musicians at the Academy of Ancient Music, something he feels is a natural development. He speaks with great pride of "his" orchestra, which recently celebrated its 26th birthday. "The Academy of Ancient Music has achieved a great momentum. It is filled with great experience collectively. It took time to build the trust but now the musicians trust me completely. I don't quite know moment to moment what will be happening." Manze usually conducts from his position as concert master and seems becomingly modest about his personal prestige. He is looking forward to the orchestra's North American tour in November 2000.

Chamber music remains an important part of his life as a musician. He spent 10 years with harpsichordist John Toll and lutist Nigel North in the Romanesca Trio. A number of award-winning recordings came from this collaboration. Manze had to give it up in 1999, when Nigel North accepted a post at the renowned Indiana University School of Music. His friendship with harpsichordist Richard Egarr reflects a similar meeting of minds on the artistic and intuitive level. Egarr will accompany Manze in August in Bach sonatas for harpsichord obligato and violin. Manze and Egarr have been exploring the rich baroque repertoire for 16 years now. "We love to surprise one another. It keeps the experience fresh and interesting," says Manze.


Andrew Manze - Tartini: The Devil's Sonata

Year: 1998
Label: Harmonia Mundi

Amazon's Best of 1998
Violinist Andrew Manze did something truly breathtaking in 1998--he transformed the way we hear Giuseppe Tartini's The Devil's Sonata by playing it solo, without accompaniment. And we'll never hear it the same way again. It's a riveting performance, filled with as much improvisation as many jazz compositions, and yet it remains thoroughly faithful to Tartini's vision (Manze was inspired to play the work solo by the composer's own correspondence). Hands down, one of the best Baroque performances ever. --Jason Verlinde

Amazon essential recording
This is one of the craziest classical CDs you will ever hear, but the madness is inspired. Andrew Manze, following a suggestion in one of Tartini's letters, gets rid of the published accompaniment and plays these pieces on the solo violin. In the other three works he takes plenty of liberties, but in the famous Devil's Trill Sonata he embellishes, improvises, departs from the text and comes back again. The verbal description sounds like my idea of a nightmare, but the execution is so inspired that this is one of the most compelling Baroque performances ever. Whether it is "authentic" or not, I have no idea, and Manze probably doesn't either. But this is a recording you will remember. --Leslie Gerber

REVIEWS:
BBC Music (5/98, p.63) - Performance: 5 (out of 5), Sound: 5 (out of 5) - "...In the hands of Andrew Manze, ['The Devil's Sonata'] transcends its complexities to become a beautiful and compelling piece of music, closely followed by the Pastorale, with its fantastical Grave, and the other works here..."

A customer said:
If I wish to demonstrate to someone why the 'Baroque Violin' is special, this is the album I play to them. There is no 'modern' rendering that approaches it. The dynamic range, intimacy and passion inherent in this CD are incomparable. Though I am sure the adherents of Josh Bell, Sarah Chang and Vanessa Mae would hoot me down, I will assert that in musicianship and technical ability Manze is the finest violinist living. Period.

In over 20 years of pursuing the 'ideal' solo violin recording this would be my choice.


Tracks:
1. "La Sonata del Diavolo" in G minor: [Largo] - 6:40
2. "La Sonata del Diavolo" in G minor: Allegro - 6:09
3. "La Sonata del Diavolo" in G minor: Andante-Allegro-Adagio - 6:24
4. from "L'arte del arco": Theme and variation I - 1:00
5. from "L'arte del arco": Variations 2 and 4 - 1:08
6. from "L'arte del arco": Variations 9, 15 and 12 - 1:28
7. from "L'arte del arco": Variations 10 and 20 - 1:51
8. from "L'arte del arco": Variation 29 0:46
9. from "L'arte del arco": Variation 30 0:37
10. from "L'arte del arco": Variation 33 - 2:04
11. from "L'arte del arco": Variation 34 - 1:11
12. from "L'arte del arco": Variation 23 0:53
13. from "L'arte del arco": Variation 38 - 1:14
14. Sonata in A minor: Cantabile - 1:56
15. Sonata in A minor: Allegro - 1:56
16. Sonata in A minor: [Andante] - 4:53
17. Sonata in A minor: Giga - 2:35
18. Sonata in A minor: Aria [with variations] - 1:40
19. Sonata in A minor: Variation I - 1:18
20. Sonata in A minor: Variation II - 3:51
21. Sonata in A minor: Variation III - 1:32
22. Sonata in A minor: Variation IV - 2:42
23. Sonata in A minor: Variation V - 1:24
24. "Pastorale" for violin in scordatura: Grave - 5:02
25. "Pastorale" for violin in scordatura: Allegro - 3:30
26. "Pastorale" for violin in scordatura: Largo-Presto-Andante - 4:59

Modern Mandolin Quartet - Modern Mandolin Quartet

I really ought to post more classical albums. There's some really terrific stuff in that mega-genre, and while some of it is geared for pampered victorian prunes, plenty of it can be enjoyed by those with a flair for the earthy wilderness of folk music, like myself. With that said, I've noticed that the classical pieces I tend to gravitate towards are for small ensembles. Maybe it's because a group of 4 musicians can just play so much more together than 80 or 100. And because I like to hear the sound of the instruments and hear their overtones, which get lost when you move to a symphonic scale (though you gain other shimmering qualities).

Of course, another reason I don't post a lot of classical music is that I'm not enough of a follower of the classical blogs to know what's out there and what's not, nor am I enough of a connoisseur to be able to have a lot to say about the works. It seems that to be a classical reviewer, one needs to have an encyclopedic knowledge of other versions of whatever piece one is describing, in addition to having a keen enough ear and long enough attention-span to say something meaningful. And I'm a young lad. I don't have those things. Even my frequent trips to the library to procure and rip whole sets of classical performers, composers, etc. have had small effect on me. I cut my teeth on heavy metal and prog-rock, before I turned to folk and blues and bluegrass. I just don't have a classical ear.

What I do have, however, is a cheerful irreverence to tradition and a fresh perspective that comes from the hodgepodge of musical ephemera that is the source material for my life. And I have the advantage of never having studied music in any formal capacity. So I relate to this music like any string band or dixieland band or bluesman. I just listen. And I notice a few things.

This album is really sparkling. Having plucked instruments rather than bowed instruments gives a totally different tonal quality to these well-known pieces, and these players play with such phenomenal precision that they pluck as one. And they pick both aged and modern pieces that have each earned their right in the canon of well-regarded classics. But the treatment they get here makes them sound as fresh as if they were written yesterday (and for a 22-year-old album, that's pretty good). But this isn't a crossover album either. They don't take the 12 'Greatest Hits' of the string quartet repertoire and give them paltry mandolin arrangements. There's serious music here, and serious arrangements. But of course, Mike Marshall's around, so nothing gets so serious that it can't have a crooked smile in there somewhere...

Modern Mandolin Quartet is:

Chamber group using the instruments of the mandolin family (two mandolins, mandola and mando-cello) to perform classical and contemporary compositions from around the world.

"MMQ play dead-straight, spot-on, and packed with freshness and vitality of a kind that is rare in material of this type. These are not down-scaled, make-em-easy, just-for-kicks charts either - they are a Major Thing. TRIPLE MUST!"

-FANFARE MAGAZINE

About the MMQ:

The Modern Mandolin Quartet was formed in 1985 to give a new voice to that most American of musical instruments, the mandolin. Following the tradition of the mandolin orchestras and chamber groups from the early twentieth century, the MMQ uses the instruments of the mandolin family which correspond to the conventional string quartet (two mandolins, mandola, and mandocello).

The Quartet's goals are to introduce audiences to the modern mandolin family of instruments, to increase the repertoire of original and arranged music for the instrument, and to bring the mandolin into the next millennium by commissioning new works.

Their early recordings, Modern Mandolin Quartet and Intermezzo, were explorations of the world of classical music using mostly transcriptions; Nutcracker Suite featured the first piece composed for the group, the first guest artists and the first complete transcription of a major work. Their 1994 recording, Pan American Journeys, explored music of the Americas; their 1999 recording, Modern Mandolin Quartet - Interplay, features pieces specially commissioned from David Balakrishnan (of Turtle Island String Quartet fame) and Utah composer Tully Cathey, as well as a string quartet by Terry Riley.

The Modern Mandolin Quartet members are Dana Rath and Matt Flinner (mandolins), Paul Binkley (mandola), and Adam Roszkiewicz (mandocello). The members of the Quartet come from diverse backgrounds including classical, jazz, rock, and folk.

To date the Quartet has arranged and performed over 90 works originally written for orchestra, chamber ensemble, piano, guitar, and string quartet, including arrangements of traditional classical music (Vivaldi, Bach, Corelli, Mozart, Ravel, Bernstein), string quartets (Mozart, Bartok, Dvorak, Villa-Lobos, Terry Riley), music from the mandolin's historical roots, (American Bluegrass, Brazilian Choro, Italian folk songs), and commissioned works (David Jaffe, Tully Cathey, David Balakrishnan, Philip Bimstein, Larry Polansky, and Edgar Meyer).

The Modern Mandolin Quartet began recording in 1988 with Windham Hill/BMG; they have released four albums to date, with sales in excess of 130,000 units worldwide. In addition to their own albums, the group appears on samplers from Polygram Records, Well Tempered Productions, and Acoustic Disk. In 1994 the Quartet received a National Endowment for the Arts Chamber Music grant to tour and perform new American music. They are the 1995 recipients of a grant from the Meet the Composer/Lila Wallace - Reader's Digest Fund Commissioning Program, which funded David Balakrishnan's Interplay and Tully Cathey's Elements. These works premiered in 1997 at Merkin Hall in New York City; both are featured on Interplay.

Modern Mandolin Quartet - Modern Mandolin Quartet

Year: 1988

Label: Windham Hill (don't be fooled! this is not new-agey!)

Biography by Linda Kohanov

This ensemble was formed in the mid-'80s as the brainchild of Mike Marshall, an internationally acclaimed mandolin player best known for his work with David Grisman and Montreux. Marshall was looking for a way to bring respectability to an instrument primarily known for bluegrass and quaint folk tunes. Toward this end, he established a string-quartet-style group featuring the extended family of mandolin instruments. Marshall and Dana Rath play standard mandolins (which take the place of violins), John Imholz plays mandocello (with a range similar to the cello), and Paul Binkley holds up the middle with his mandola (the alto counterpart to the viola). Together they interpret well-known classical works and premiere newly commissioned compositions of "serious mandolin music."

Review by Linda Kohanov

A fine debut for Windham Hill, it's not quite as sophisticated as Intermezzo.

Tracks

1 Concerto in D Minor for Two Violins (Vivace) - Bach - 3:22

2 Canzonetta - Mendelssohn - 4:07

3 Abendkonzert - Hindemith - 2:48

4 Teasing Song/Limping Dance - Bartok - :48

5 Pizzicato - Bartok - :54

6 Asturiana - DeFalla - 2:07

7 La Vida Brevé (Dance #1) - DeFalla - 3:40

8 Galop - Stravinsky - 1:52

9 Assez Vif et Bien Rythme - Debussy - 4:34

10 Pavane Pour la Belle au Bois Dormante - Ravel - 2:07

11 Lebhaft - Hindemith - 1:09

12 Langsam - Hindemith - :53

13 Dance of the Maramaros - Bartok - :37

14 Valse (Ma Mie Qui Danse) - Bartok - 3:25

15 Alla Danza Tedesca - Beethoven - 3:46

* out-of-print