I have never heard a record by the Armenian viola 
                player Kim Kashkashian which was anything less than interesting 
                and this proves to be no exception. Manfred Eicher's ECM label 
                continues to stimulate, educate and more, this time with a foray 
                into the historic and contemporary musics of Armenia, with thankfully 
                not a Sabre Dance in sight! It pairs two pieces for viola and 
                percussion by living Armenian composer Tigran Mansurian with some 
                of his arrangements of the songs of the legendary folk-music collector 
                and priest Komitas, born Soghomon Soghomonian but renamed after 
                a 7th century hymn writer. Steve Lake's booklet note 
                on Komitas is supremely interesting, touching on related subjects 
                as diverse as Gurdjieff and the Armenian genocide by the Turks. 
                Musicweb readers may be familiar with him as a formative influence 
                on the great Armenian-Scottish composer Alan Hovhaness. 
              
 
              
I have, perhaps not surprisingly, never been 
                to Armenia but for various reasons it is a country that has held 
                a place in my consciousness for many years, from a schoolboy's 
                fascination with the far-off, exotic and remote, fed by obscure 
                travelogues borrowed from the library, to the moment when, ten 
                years after Blixa Bargeld and Einstürzende Neubauten first 
                recorded it, "Armenia" screamed from the soundtrack 
                of Michael Mann’s Heat - "Are the volcanoes still active?". 
                Later, visiting the Armenian quarter in Jerusalem, I learned about 
                the genocide, and was subsequently greatly moved by the haunting 
                liturgy of the Armenian Church. Now this superb disc reawakens 
                that latent interest. 
              
 
              
The two Mansurian pieces played by Kashkashian 
                and expert percussionist and ECM stalwart Robyn Schulkowsky bookend 
                the disc. The opening Havik is relatively short but packs 
                great emotional punch into its five minutes and its melancholy 
                lyricism is gripping. The closing Duet is much longer, 
                more abstract and requires more intent listening if its inner 
                depths are to be penetrated but it is well worth the effort. The 
                Komitas settings are fascinating, not least for Mansurian's piano 
                and almost whispered, quavering vocals, the latter apparently 
                baring little resemblance to Komitas' own celebrated baritone. 
                However, the effect is of emotions laid bare - whether the arrangements 
                are reduced to a solo piano or expanded to encompass viola, percussion, 
                piano and voice - some pieces are also repeated in different instrumentations. 
                The overriding impression is one of deep but understated lamentation 
                and it is all strangely very uplifting. I eagerly devoured not 
                only the music but the whole superb package which includes as 
                well as Steve Lake's essay, an equally fascinating one by the 
                composer explaining the genesis of the disc, which included a 
                pivotal concert in Bergen with Jan Garbarek, and the beautiful 
                prose and poetry of Ossip Mandelstam, plus many atmospheric photographs 
                of the performers and Komitas himself. I don't get to hear as 
                many ECM discs as I would like but this reminds me very much of 
                what drew me to the visionary label in the first place. I suppose 
                it is inevitable comparisons will be drawn with the Georgian composer 
                Giya Kancheli, also an ECM favourite, but although the music shares 
                some of the atmospheres and inflections it is much more intimate 
                and smaller scale than Kancheli's large canvasses tend to be. 
              
 
              
I am very glad to have made the acquaintance 
                of the music of Mansurian and Komitas, particularly via such an 
                inspired artist as Kim Kashkashian. Havik, Hoy, Nazan 
                and Garun a, in particular, are pure poetry, in keeping 
                with the meaning of the disc's title Hayren. I do urge 
                you to give this a try - ECM aficionados will probably know more 
                or less what to expect, as would keen Hovhaness listeners. If 
                you like the more melodic Bartók, the more oriental Vaughan 
                Williams or maybe the Celtic inspirations of Peter Crossley-Holland 
                I reviewed recently, then this may also appeal. Much of the music 
                is slow and quiet but still burns with a very intense flame. 
              
Neil Horner