Sofia Gubaidulina, the 80-year old Russian/Tatar composer, is 
                  one of the most respected of living composers. She has composed 
                  in a variety of genres, but her concertos have gained a wide 
                  following and for good reason. As witnessed by the concertos 
                  on this CD, they are indeed remarkable and glorious works. In 
                  tempus praesens is her second violin concerto. The first 
                  such concerto, Offertorium, was written more than twenty-five 
                  years before this one. Both have received multiple performances 
                  and are considered two of the finest in recent times. Gubaidulina 
                  composed In tempus praesens for Anne-Sophie Mutter, who 
                  recorded it with the London Symphony and Valery Gergiev for 
                  Deutsche 
                  Grammophon. The concerto receives its second recording here. 
                  
                    
                  Gubaidulina’s Russian Orthodox faith is never very far away 
                  in her compositions and they have religious significance. In 
                  the case of this violin concerto the title refers to the present 
                  time. More important, the work embodies the divine wisdom personified 
                  in the orthodox religion by the saint Sophia. Since Gubaidulina’s 
                  Christian name is Sophia and she composed the concerto for and 
                  dedicated it to Anne-Sophie Mutter, the figure of Sophia has 
                  a special significance in the work not only in her divine wisdom, 
                  but also in the very creative power of God. This is reflected 
                  throughout the work in the contrast between the dark as demonstrated 
                  by the use of the low brass and strings and the light by the 
                  violin solos. The concerto is in a single, long movement that 
                  is sub-divided into five parts. It is a shame that neither Mutter’s 
                  première recording nor this new one has more than a single track. 
                  It would have made it much easier to assimilate the work had 
                  there been separate tracks for the individual sections. As it 
                  is, though, the concerto grips the listener from the beginning 
                  and does not let go until it reaches ever upward in a spectacular 
                  climax by the whole orchestra like a burst of light, only to 
                  have the low brass (trombones and tubas) growl at the very bottom 
                  of the orchestra. The solo violin, however, gets the final say 
                  and ends the work on a high, sustained note. In tempus praesens 
                  is one of those works that exhilarate the listener so that 
                  you want to immediately go back and hear it all over again. 
                  There is a DVD out titled “Sophia: Biography of a Violin Concerto” 
                  with Gubaidulina and Mutter on this very composition. I haven’t 
                  seen it, but it has received critical acclaim. One would imagine, 
                  then, that Anne-Sophie Mutter “owns” the work, but here is a 
                  challenger in Vadim Gluzman who has his own equally valid interpretation. 
                  He is superbly accompanied by Jonathan Nott and the Lucerne 
                  Symphony and the recorded sound is indeed stunning. One associates 
                  Nott more with Schubert or Mahler, but it should be remembered 
                  that he did yeoman service to the large orchestral works of 
                  Ligeti in the Volume II of Warner’s Ligeti Project. To briefly 
                  sum up my impression of the main difference between these two 
                  recordings, Mutter’s is the more extrovert and Gluzman’s the 
                  more inward. Certainly, Mutter with her larger-than-life tone 
                  grabs the listener from the beginning and Gergiev’s orchestra 
                  also makes more of an impact for most of the concerto. Part 
                  of this is due to the recordings, where the DG seems to be somewhat 
                  more closely recorded; that is not to say the BIS is by any 
                  means distant. The balance on the BIS seems about perfect and 
                  there are places where the subtlety pays off. For example, in 
                  the last five or so minutes of the piece, there are tremendous 
                  percussion effects by cymbals, gongs, and bells. With their 
                  more distant placement down in the depths of the Lucerne orchestra, 
                  they create an especially eerie effect that is somehow more 
                  felt than heard. It plays right into Gubaidulina’s symbolism 
                  of dark vs. light. Gergiev here is more obvious, but nonetheless 
                  magnificent as well. The very ending of the concerto is telling. 
                  Gergiev builds the orchestral crescendo so that the light is 
                  almost blinding, but the following low brass and strings do 
                  not make the same impact as they do with Nott. Nott’s light 
                  may not be as blinding, but the low brass really growl and create 
                  a very unsettling experience before the violinist completes 
                  the work on the high, sustained note. Again that note is more 
                  intense with Mutter, but Gluzman with his purer tone is also 
                  convincing as he is throughout the concerto. I frankly would 
                  not want to be without either of these different interpretations 
                  of what is perhaps the greatest violin concerto this century 
                  has produced so far. 
                    
                  With that said, the primary interest of this CD must be the 
                  world première recording of Gubaidulina’s Glorious Percussion. 
                  I am familiar with a number of percussion concertos, including 
                  James MacMillan’s Veni, Veni Emmanuel, Toru Takemitsu’s 
                  From me flows what you call Time, and Joseph Schwantner’s 
                  Percussion Concerto. While all three of these possess 
                  their considerable merits, they did not prepare me for this 
                  extraordinary new work in the genre. As with the violin concerto, 
                  this percussion concerto requires a very large orchestra. In 
                  addition to the five percussion soloists placed at the front 
                  of the orchestra there is the usual contingent at the back; 
                  and the brass also plays a major role with the addition of four 
                  Wagner tubas interchanging with horns, two bass tubas, bass 
                  and tenor trombones, etc. Incidentally, Gubaidulina also employed 
                  Wagner tubas in the violin concerto. The work is thus distinguished 
                  by the percussion soloists who have seven sections in the work 
                  where they improvise in contrast to the more static nature of 
                  the rest of the orchestra. Again it’s unfortunate that the concerto 
                  receives a single track on the disc where it would have made 
                  a lot of sense to divide it into these sections. Glorious 
                  Percussion begins with the lower brass and percussion playing 
                  a chordal theme that lumbers like some behemoth in the depths 
                  of the orchestra. This theme recurs in key places in the work 
                  and at the end of it with the cymbals and tam-tam as they resonate, 
                  having the final say. Contrasting with the rather static nature 
                  of the orchestral part, the solo percussionists have a heyday 
                  with a huge variety of instruments, including all kinds and 
                  sizes of gongs, marimbas and xylophones, bells, woodblocks and 
                  rattles, four bass drums, and a whole variety of Asian folk 
                  instruments with such strange names as cabaza and darabuca. 
                  At one point in the piece the soloists go wild with their mallets 
                  on the marimbas and xylophones and later they do the same with 
                  the bass drums, creating quite a racket. While one can get a 
                  good appreciation of the concerto simply from listening to the 
                  fabulous performance on this recording, I think the visual element 
                  is of almost equal importance. Fortunately, you can “attend” 
                  a performance by the Berlin Philharmonic with Gustavo Dudamel 
                  and the Glorious Percussion soloists by visiting the Philharmonic’s 
                  website. 
                  There is a free preview of the concert - also including a blistering 
                  account of Shostakovich’s Twelfth Symphony - that will entice 
                  you to buy a ticket to the concert well worth the modest cost. 
                  Dudamel premiered the concerto with the Gothenburg Symphony 
                  in 2008 and this concert took place not long after that première. 
                  The percussion ensemble contributes a theatrical element — almost 
                  balletic at times — that adds a whole other dimension to the 
                  work. It really must be seen to be fully appreciated! The concerto 
                  in fact was co-commissioned by Anders Loguin, whose ensemble 
                  took their name from Gubaidulina’s composition, and four orchestras 
                  including the Lucerne Symphony. “Glorious” of the title of the 
                  work has its spiritual connotation as one would expect from 
                  any piece by Gubaidulina, and the concerto does connect with 
                  heaven and earth. If Mahler claimed to possess the whole world 
                  in his symphonies, Gubaidulina would seem to occupy the universe 
                  in this concerto. There is an interesting interview 
                  with her on the Berlin Philharmonic website accompanying 
                  the concert, where she talks about the concerto and her fascination 
                  with the different tones of the percussion and the whole complex 
                  of pulsating sounds in nature they depict. The interview is 
                  free of charge. 
                    
                  Except for the lack of multiple tracks and notes on the two 
                  works that could be more detailed, BIS has come up with a real 
                  winner here. It will likely rank high on my list of best recordings 
                  of 2012. 
                    
                  Leslie Wright