Cello Concerto in D minor, Op. 82 (1864) [27:21]
Adagio and Allegro, Op. 70 (orch. Ansermet, 1943) [9:29]
Suite No. 1 for solo cello (1956) [10:55]
rec. 17-18 June 2013, Mabry Concert Hall, Austin Peay State University, Clarksville,
Tennessee, USA
Michael Samis’ debut solo album is as eclectic
as anything we’ve seen in years. There’s a world-premiere of
a major romantic concerto, another premiere of a romantic piece updated
by a beloved conductor, and two works by important contemporary composers.
We have Robert Schumann on one hand and a marimba duet on the other.
Carl Reinecke’s cello concerto is a pretty good one, unworthy of its
obscurity. The first melody is striking, a bid for exotic sounds of the
Near East. The second melody is even more striking, because it resembles
one of the central tunes in Dvorák’s cello concerto. The slow movement
and finale are concise constructions that offer good themes and nice showcases
for the soloist. Sure, they follow the rote “romantic concerto”
template a little too closely. Minor-key first movement with drama, consolatory
slow movement, then dark transition to a cheery finale untroubled by drama.
You’ve heard things like it before but that won’t dampen your
enjoyment, not when the music is this well-crafted, catchy and outstandingly
played.
That's especially because more than half of the album is even rarer
and more eclectic. Reinecke leads straight into John Tavener’s solo
lament
Threnos, written “in memory of [a] dear friend.”
This is a work of deceptive simplicity, where the mournful melody stretches
out over two minutes before we hear it developed. Although Samis is mostly
asked only to play one note at a time — again: deceptively simple
— the buildup at the beginning makes him sound like an entire quartet
and the expressive demands are constant.
After this, Robert Schumann’s
Adagio and Allegro is a welcome
relief and a warm embrace. Ernest Ansermet’s orchestration is sensitive
and true to the composer’s romantic style, with a prominent role for
the oboe. Then Samis goes solo once more, for the first suite by Ernest
Bloch. You know Bloch could write for the cello from
Schelomo,
but this ten-minute suite is dark in hue, with echoes of his Jewish heritage
and maybe his homesickness. Osvaldo Golijov rounds out the programme, with
a piece inspired the same way Tavener’s was: the death of a good friend.
Mariel uses a pulsing marimba part that, if it were in a film,
would accompany someone driving a black car at night, alone, under cold
antiseptic street lights in the city. Alongside this, the cello plays an
achingly sad melody which will communicate directly with the heart of any
listener.
How is such fantastic music so little-known? The Reinecke has never been
recorded before; Samis discovered it himself. Ansermet’s arrangement
of the Schumann piece is new to disc, too. Ernest Bloch’s cello suites
are available on one other disc, by Emmanuelle Bertrand on Harmonia Mundi.
Michael
Samis funded the recording of this CD on Kickstarter, and many of the
donors are listed in the booklet.
Given it’s recorded on a Kickstarter budget (Samis raised $11,887),
the “emerging” Gateway Chamber Orchestra from Tennessee, make
for very good partners and the recorded sound is at the height of professional
standards. Everything was recorded in one concert hall, so the solo pieces
are surrounded by a little more reverb. Did I mention that Samis gives a
truly heroic, attention-grabbing and, I hope, career-advancing performance
in every single work?
So it’s an album built up from weird, unknown parts and worth much
more than their sum. The twin threads of lament (Tavener, Bloch, Golijov)
and romantic warmth (Reinecke, Schumann), plus the thrill of discovering
over an hour of new stuff make this a major release. How many great recordings
will be crowd-funded online by their listeners? We don’t know, but
judging from this and another disc I have received, the answer is at least
two.
Brian Reinhart