Dan Albertson, (“he”), born betwixt a quarter and a third of a century ago and once from small-town Michigan yet now settled further to the Midwest, is biographically reticent, a man of few passions and perhaps, per Musil, a man lacking in qualities. No training in any particular field, but seems closest to belonging in the realm of musicology. He both delights in, and is dismayed at, his lack of institutional affiliation. He is the founder and director of the Living Composers Project, though his own interest has turned decidedly against contemporary music in recent years and towards the Baroque and Renaissance. Thank you, Sir Roger. Contemporary music is too often “garbage,” he believes, though with obvious exceptions. He is the author of critical articles for American and European publications and has edited four volumes of Contemporary Music Review, on composers Helmut Lachenmann, Earle Brown and Aldo Clementi. As a poet, he has collaborated with several composers but tends to write poems as gifts — sometimes welcomed. As translator, he works regularly with Cybele Records in Düsseldorf. He enjoys walks, jogs, swims and paintings, but not all at once.
A direct comparison of the existing recordings of Lachenmann’s three quartets seems pointless.
Marc Minkowski, once the rising hope of French early music, is nearing 50, and has a new label, Naïve, after more than a decade with Archiv.
I offer another Rihm stroll, now in very abbreviated tones, though maybe not legally quite brief enough.
The Brahms symphonies were an area that I avoided for much of my life. I equated Brahms with tradition and sterility.
The latest offering in the KAIROS Lachenmann series has a famous work, an obscure work and a new work, spread across two discs but offering only 94:47 of music.
Mark André must be a fearless man, a true frondeur. His 2001-04 stage work …22, 13…, a Musiktheater-Passion in drei Teilen, shows no hesitation either musically or theologically.
Christina Pluhar makes her Virgin début with this offering — arrangements of some of Monteverdi’s “greatest hits,” alongside lesser-known but no less endearing pieces, largely from the middle or late madrigal books.