Though still in his 
                late thirties, Bruno Mantovani, who 
                has a sizeable body of works to his 
                credit, has consistently drawn much 
                favourable critical attention. The release 
                under review, actually the second disc 
                devoted to his music by the new French 
                label AEON (I have not heard the first 
                one [AECD 0208]), offers three fairly 
                recent works that give a good idea of 
                his present output. Quite early on in 
                his composing career, he has been blessed 
                with commissions from several celebrated 
                performing artists and various ensembles, 
                which have provided him with opportunities 
                to display his virtuosity and technical 
                mastery. His music, however, is also 
                immensely lyrical and – most importantly, 
                I believe – deeply sincere and honest. 
                The three works here, no doubt, offer 
                a fairly comprehensive survey of his 
                recent output. The earliest one, Turbulences 
                for mixed ensemble of twelve players, 
                was completed in 1998 and first performed 
                by Peter Eötvös. True to its 
                title, it traces an often chaotic journey 
                from the contrapuntal opening section 
                to the dream-like, ecstatic concluding 
                section, through a series of contrasted 
                episodes, in turn almost static and 
                wildly energetic. 
              
  
              
La Morte Meditata, 
                a substantial setting of Ungaretti’s 
                eponymous six-poem cycle for mezzo-soprano 
                and a small instrumental ensemble à 
                la Birtwistle (three clarinets, 
                piano and string trio), is an ambitious 
                piece and a considerable achievement 
                in its own right, and to my mind quite 
                successful. It opens with a lengthy 
                instrumental introduction stating the 
                main material of the whole piece which 
                the ensuing settings vary at some length 
                and with a remarkable imagination. The 
                red thread running through the whole 
                piece is a number of words, such as 
                ombra and morte, each 
                being given its specific musical colour, 
                so as to ensure some coherence in this 
                otherwise quite contrasted and eventful 
                setting, reflecting moods suggested 
                by Ungaretti’s words. Mantovani’s lyrical 
                gifts are much in evidence in the beautifully 
                supple and flexible vocal part, for 
                all its demands and technical difficulties. 
                The setting, as a whole, is remarkably 
                varied, by turns dreamy and angry, dramatic 
                and meditative, in its response to Ungaretti’s 
                verse. Mantovani conjures up a powerfully 
                expressive sound-world from his seemingly 
                limited instrumental forces; and his 
                music abounds in many imaginative instrumental 
                touches, always enhancing the words’ 
                suggested moods rather than running 
                against the stream for virtuosity’s 
                sake. Indeed, expression and communication 
                are clearly paramount, in spite of the 
                music’s complexity, as is quite clear 
                in the beautifully moving, hushed conclusion 
                of the work. 
              
  
              
Troisième 
                Round, a concerto for saxophone 
                and ensemble in all but name, obviously 
                shares many characteristics with the 
                other works here; but with a much greater 
                freedom. The exacting solo part is present 
                from first to last, and runs through 
                the five interlinked sections, although 
                the soloist in turn performs on tenor, 
                soprano, alto and baritone saxophones. 
                The overall impression left by this 
                brilliant, often virtuosic piece, however, 
                is that of a clear line with a clearly 
                defined final goal. This is in fact 
                the impression that one gets in the 
                other pieces recorded here, particularly 
                so in La Morte Meditata 
                that journeys forth towards some final, 
                albeit hard-won serenity. 
              
 
              
Bruno Mantovani is 
                a young composer to be reckoned with, 
                who has things to say and who knows 
                how to say them. He is not afraid of 
                using a wide range of expressive and 
                technical means to communicate his intensely 
                lyrical and passionate vision. In doing 
                so, his music may be fairly complex, 
                but never extravagantly so (although 
                he puts many demands on his performers) 
                or disarmingly simple, without ever 
                being banal. I am sure that we may expect 
                much in the future from this endearing 
                composer who is superbly well served 
                by his performers and the recording 
                team. Warmly recommended. 
              
 
              
Hubert Culot