Ramble with Gondola and Little Red Riding Hood

Grant Chu Covell

[April 2026.]

“Kapsberger, Secret Pages.” Claudio AMBROSINI: Manoscritto veneziano segreto (2017-18); Venetian short stories (2019-22). Giovanni Girolamo KAPSBERGER: Var. comps. (ca. 1600). Stefano Maiorana (theorbo). Arcana A541 (1 CD) (www.outhere-music.com).

A brilliant recording which I haven’t known where to place. Anchored with a breathy, glowing theorbo made by Francisco Hervas in 2019, Maiorana alternates between Kapsberger manuscripts and Ambrosini miniatures, with Ambrosini’s brief sonic portraits of watery Venice sprinkled around. Possibly I am a softy for resonant plucked instruments. Ambrosini, Maiorana and Kapsberger balance past and present in two composer portraits and their shared city. Ambrosini’s pieces are influenced by the Kapsberger pages: One group comes from an exercise book kept by a Kapsberger pupil. Ambrosini’s writing is decidedly modern filled non-standard sounds and effects. Towards the program’s center, Ambrosini has written a bewitching Canzone and then a Canzone in eco wherein a repeated tonal phrase is imaginatively colored with extraneous notes and noises. Sometimes the Kapsberger pieces arrive as a relief, other times Ambrosini’s figurations complete too quickly. Ambrosini’s curated itty musique-concrète postcards emphasize Venice’s connection to the sea: “Gondolas moored at the Biennale Gardens,” “Moored cruise ships,” “Steps into the flood (Aquagranda 2019),” etc., and the city’s history: “Children at the Frari (Tomb of Monteverdi).”

“Veni 35: Nachtboek – Quotations.” Daniel MATEJ: JMF for DM (2019)¹; Quotations • Rotations • Variations (2020)². Piet-Jan VAN ROSSUM: Avondboek – Nachtboek (2020)³. Veni Ensemble, Daniel Matej¹, Marián Lejava^2,3 (cond.). ISCM-R03 2262 003-2 (1 CD) (www.veni.sk).

Featuring the Veni Ensemble, related to Veni Academy who we heard playing Sharp, this release offers music about music. The program sandwiches Van Rossum’s concerto between Matej’s reflective pieces.

The title JMF for DM doesn’t necessarily help, except to delineate this work from others. Matej – possibly the DM in the title? – establishes that the musicians are working from a verbal score. We begin with bold unisons, strong on flute, trumpet and electric guitar, colors suggesting one of Matej’s teachers, Andriessen. But this work quickly goes somewhere else, fracturing and releasing tension, meandering inexorably towards a slow unsynchronized recitation of Bach’s Jesu, meine Freude, the title’s other cipher. A striking ending made even more effective because it so contrasts with the beginning.

Van Rossum’s piano concerto (his third) is dedicated to and shines a light upon Alexei Stanchinsky (1888-1914) who died early but not without writing piano pieces that anticipate later movements. If there are specific Stanchinsky allusions, they escape me. This concerto was built day-by-day during the coronavirus lockdown. Van Rossum parallels the Russian composer’s habit of carrying a religious book with his daily composing / diary writing of the concerto. Knowing this creates an unaccustomed listening experience, considering that what we hear might not repeat. The title translates to “Evening Book – Night Book.”

Quotations • Rotations • Variations is an accurate description, although the core material is transformed enough so that we may not easily detect the originals. Webern’s Op. 27 figures greatly throughout, as do other Matej works, and in the last third, a tape featuring Czech poet Egon Bondy singing. Somewhat like JMF for DM, opening energy is quickly dispelled, lighter material expands, and then the taped voice emerges over a reflection. I take from this that music, especially the creation of music as composer and musicians, is a transformative journey. Matej is undoubtedly optimistic, and the Veni Ensemble supports his vision.

“Italian Perspectives.” Sergei RACHMANINOFF: 5 Études-tableaux (1911; 1916-17; arr. Ottorino RESPIGHI, 1931). Ottorino RESPIGHI: Trittico Botticelliano (1927). Giuseppe MARTUCCI: Symphony No. 1 in D Minor, Op. 75 (1889-1895). Bamberger Symphoniker, Ricardo Frizza (cond.). Pentatone PTC 5187 419 (1 CD) (www.pentatonemusic.com).

Here’s a masterclass in orchestration. What Respighi has done with Rachmaninoff’s piano originals is miraculous, and Frizza and the Bamberger Symphoniker do an excellent job conveying the variety with utmost clarity. The story goes Rachmaninoff was too busy to consider Koussevitsky’s request to orchestrate a suite derived from the Études-tableaux for piano. But the Boston conductor asked Respighi to take on the effort, which Rachmaninoff supported, suggesting Op. 39, No. 2, Op. 33, No. 4, and Op. 39, Nos. 7, 6 and 9 (in Respighi’s order). Respighi came up with his own titles (“The Sea and the Seagulls,” “The Fair,” “Funeral March,” “Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf,” and “March.”)

By compare, the Trittico Botticelliano is effervescent and less sober, and the Martucci is heavy on its feet and thickly scored. Respighi’s trilogy is cast for chamber orchestra (single winds, percussion and strings) whereas Martucci pulls out all the stops. The notes tie Martucci to Brahms: Martucci conducted the Italian premiere of Brahms’ Second and Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde. I frankly hear more alignment with Tchaikovsky as Martucci’s counterpoint and harmony is just not up to his Austro-Germanic colleagues.

“Twentieth Century Swiss String Quartets.” Hans SCHAEUBLE: Music for String Quartet, Op. 19 (1936). Meinrad SCHÜTTER: String Quartet (1990, rev. 1996). Erich SCHMID: String Quartet, Op. 4 (1930-01). CasalQuartett Zurich: Felix Froschhammer, Rachel Späth (vln), Markus Fleck (vla), Sebastian Braun (vlc). GUILD GMCD 7303 (1 CD) (www.guildmusic.com).

This program presents three unfamiliar Swiss composers, all born around the same time. Two string quartets were written in the 1930s, and one was completed in the 1990s but could have been finished decades before. The Op. 19 of Schaeuble (1906–1988) swims comfortably in an expressive tonal (but not serial) sea, a softer Hindemith or less obsessed Bartók. Its harmony does not surprise, the themes could be original or folk inspired. The quartet by Schütter (1910–2006) is the anachronistic work, possessing an earlier age’s vocabulary despite unexpected structure and organization. Schmid’s Op. 4 is the standout, deftly asserting atonal melodies with energetic accompaniment. Schmid (1907–2000) briefly studied with Schoenberg: His quartet aligns neatly with his Berlin teacher, less lyric than Berg but almost as spiky as Webern. Schmid wandered away from composition to focus on conducting.

“Street-Art.” Régis CAMPO: Street-Art (2015-17)¹; Sometimes with the heart (2016)²; Oh Sweet Kisses!! (2012)³; Rivi simplicitate (2013)⁴; Steamy Punk (2017; rev. 2019)⁵; Pop-Art (2001-02)⁶; Morgenstern-Lieder (2015)⁷; Érotique rotative (2015)⁸; Une solitude de l’espace (2009-17)⁹. Ensemble TM+: Sylvia Vadimova^2,7 (m-sop), Gilles Burgos^1,5,6,9 (fl), Frank Scalisi^1,3,6 (clar), André Feydy¹ (tpt), Noëmi Schindler^1,6,9, Nicolas Miribel¹ (vln), Geneviève Strosser¹, Marion Plard^6,9 (vla), Florian Lauridon^1,6,9 (vlc), Philippe Noharet^1,9 (cbs), Florent Jodelet¹, Gianny Pizzolato^1,9 (perc), Julien Le Pape^{1,2,4,6,7,8,9} (pno), Adonis Palacios Pecellin¹ (synth), Arthur Dairaine^1,9 (synth programming), Laurent Cuniot^1,6,9 (cond). Signature Radio France SIG 11111 (1 CD) (www.radiofrance.com/les-editions).

The title piece is the big draw and a tough act to follow. For more than a quarter of an hour, Street-Art pulses with rhythmic vitality through Stravinskian gestures (Le Sacre and L’Histoire equally). There’s not much melody in the piece, just thumping piano, shrill trumpet and flute, and a fuzzy non-Classical synthesizer timbre. Campo is adept at bringing the background to the foreground, elevating what passes for accompaniment. It’s either brash and brilliant, or just modern music straying into the wrong lane.

Solo pieces, Oh Sweet Kisses!! for clarinet and Steamy Punk for flute sound like warm-ups or cast-offs in comparison as they contend with similar gestures and steady beats. The songs, Sometimes with the heart and Morgenstern-Lieder, are deceptively simple, as high voice and piano proceed in unison, or the pianist knocks, taps and strums across the instrument. The solo piano Érotique rotative asks the pianist to sing, whistle and talk. Pop-Art is the title piece’s younger sibling with perky unison playing.

Márton ILLÉS: Vont-tér for violin and chamber orchestra (2019-20)¹; skEtch 1 for violin and live electronics (2021)²; Rajzok I for string orchestra (2010)³; skEtch 2 for violin and live electronics (2021)⁴; Sírt-tér for violoncello and chamber orchestra (2023-24)⁵; skEtch 3 for violin and live electronics (2021)⁶. Patricia Kopatchinskaja^1,2,4,6 (vln), Nicolas Altstaedt⁵ (vlc), Münchener Kammerorchester^1,3,5, SWR Experimentalstudio^2,4,6, Clemens Schuldt^1,3, Bas Wiegers⁵ (cond.). Alpha 1221 (1 CD) (www.outhere-music.com).

Items that make their way into these rambles, these miscellanies, are often releases that have delightfully challenged. Illés recent work resists easy characterization, not just because the composer’s Hungarian titles are not graspable. The suffix “tér” suggests “space,” or as Illés says: “When listening, I always see lines, objects, colo[u]rs and textures that extend just as much in two dimensions as in imaginary perspectives.” The violin concerto’s title, Vont-tér, is translated as “vibrating gestures in space.” Illés suggests “a space for weeping” for Sírt-tér, his cello concerto.

Kopatchinskaja is Illés secret weapon, able to consistently and confidently extend the violin. Imagine an absolute opposite to Tchaikovsky’s concerto. In Vont-tér there are no soaring melodies, and generally the violin elicits the opposite of lyrical and beautiful, what some might consider unpleasant. Kopatchinskaja slides, growls and cavorts, offering lovely ugliness. The orchestra does not accompany but interjects and ignores. The structure is not straightforward, but the title’s concern with space suggests varied unconnected moments. An immensely rewarding ride.

The cello concerto, Sírt-tér, is marginally less aggressive, more conventional than Vont-tér, perhaps because the cello’s register is lower and Illés clears space around the soloist. It is not that Altstaedt is less agile, just that Illés pushes Kopatchinskaja into the stratosphere and the violin simply cuts more sharply over the chamber orchestra.

The three shortish skEtch pair violin and live electronics, but electronic or “other” sounds pervade Rajzok I, for 24 string instruments tuned in quarter-tones. The meaning of skEtch should be self-explanatory; Rajzok means “drawings.” Illés works fluently where standard and non-standard intersect. An exciting universe filled with extended techniques and novel tuning is brought to life by live performers with electronics or despite them. The orchestras in the concertos and the retuned strings in Rajzok I offer unexpected timbres suggesting signal processing. The skEtch pieces are lively verging on frenetic, especially skEtch 3 which concludes the program. skEtch 2 is moodier, the electronics closely follow the violin to create distorted sustained shapes and notes.