1.Christmette by Praetorius and performed gloriously by the Gabrielli Singers led by Paul McCresh is one of my go-to CDs whenever I want to feel pure, uncluttered joy, although, ironically, I gave up on both Christianity and Christmas decades ago. It’s strange that not long ago I rhymed off to a fundamentalist I know a substantial list of favorite music that happened to be Christian in its leanings – none of which she knew. I remember when I first heard the Mass in B Minor during my first trip to Rome a century ago, I was spellbound and carried the echoes of the Kyrie in my mind for months afterwards. And this work by Praetorius, at least in the recording by McCresh et al, fills my heart and if I knew the words it would do so with my lungs. As soon as I hear “Ein kind geborn zu Bethlehem” in the Introitus and later “Lob sei der heilgen Dreifaltigkeit” I feel a real inner peace and don’t even think to remember how the Fundamentalists supported evil Donald Trump.
2.Film India with Pandit Ravi Shankar brings to mind the Satyajit Ray films in which the music here, written for films like Pather Panchali and The Music Room, helped create an otherworldly atmosphere – although Pather Panchali decidedly shows the poverty and grime of this world. The day I once met Ravi Shankar for an interview, he asked “What is your name?” to which I responded “James” at which he delightedly replied “Ah, James Bond!” Relevant here is how he described the impact of technology’s needs on traditional Indian Classical music. An alap can go on for twenty minutes but in the scene of a film he’d be allowed twenty seconds perhaps, and even with very long ragas the 78 rpm recordings could last only 8-10 minutes on both sides of a disc, so compromise was the name of the recording game, like it or not. I looked hard for this CD, since I’m always aware of Shankar’s mood-developing music when it appears in films. Moreover, I’ve loved his music for decades on sitar and the playing of Ali Akbar Khan of Sarod even more. I once interviewed Khan, a man that Yehudi Menuhin called “the greatest musician in the world” as well, and we sat on the edge of someone’s bed in Mississauga smoking cigarettes!
3.Stimmung is music for six voices by by Karlheinz Stockhausen and it is performed here by the group Singcircle, who are most adept at producing vocal sounds, often unexpected and unusual, to some, of many varieties. It is “a long-form exploration of vocal harmonics for six vocalists and six microphones. The entire piece is based on a low B flat, from which the vocalists spread out harmonically using overtone singing.” Also, “over the course of the performance, the vocalists are singing meditations on numerous deities from the all over the world, interspersed with various spoken ‘recitatives.’” It’s quite impossible to convey in words what one is hearing, let alone commenting on it, but I’ve had a copy of Stimmung to hear for decades, although my wife insists that I not play it when she is in the house, since it drives her nuts. It does, however, have the effect of causing a trance for me, I find, and in places it can bring on inner giggles.
4.Hard Luck Stories: Richard and Linda Thompson collects all the recordings that this highly regarded duo made before their famed separation with Linda kicking Richard in the shins on stage on their last tour. Hers is a haunting, profoundly wistful, and emotionally-measured voice, while Richard is one of the most creative guitarists on the planet, a compelling singer, and an inspired and genuinely creative songwriter who doesn’t get the wide appreciation he deserves, one that others of better-selling and contrived reputations achieve. I say much more about Richard in a review of his concert elsewhere on this blog, so let it just be said that it’s a pleasure to have their collected recordings – some of it, the Hannibal recordings, previously so hard to find. Let me add that I once did say to Richard that if I needed music for my funeral (but I certainly don’t plan to have one) I would ask for his original recording of Dargai, an instrumental that in its simplicity does speak volumes.
5, 6, 7.Three solo instrument CDs I play and give in to often are (5). Britten Solo Cello Suites played by Jamie Walton; (6) Horowitz in Moscow; and (7) Satie Piano Works, including 3 gymnopćdies and 6 gnossiennes played by pianist Anne Queffélec. I discovered the three Britten Suites one late night driving from Toronto to Hamilton and loved then, as I do now, their well-aimed economy of musical methods and ideas in developing both atmosphere and narrative. I once gave a copy to an actress friend who was playing it when visited by the concertmaster of the TSO and apparently he was quite impressed. The Horowitz is another constant listen since I saw the DVD of this same performance in which Martha Argerich comments that no one plays Chopin’s Mazurkas better than Horowitz. I saw Horowitz in person only once, an afternoon (of course) concert at Toronto’s Massey Hall during which he did his Carmen Variations. At one point he hit a deliberately odd note which caused me, in this reverential and very silent audience, to laugh HaHa out loud, at which Horowitz smiled his famous impish grin. As for Quefélec’s much loved recording, j’aime quelquesfois d’être très languissant ou flétrissement comme le coeur de Satie.
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*My My friend Brenda Bell was known as the legend Badia Star in Canada, even before she took up residence as the featured belly dancer at a posh hotel in Cairo. She has told me often about her thrilling connection with an Arabic audience who know the songs to which she dances and understand the nuanced sexuality of her performances. Canadians instead want what they call sex, bluntly done, while an Arabic audience knows how to savour gradually and thus enjoy more fully. Which leads me to an outstanding CD titled Farid el Atrache: The King of the Oud on which the singer/oudist/actor communes through his jaw-dropping virtuosity on the oud with a sometimes hysterically appreciative audience that that goes very nuts very often in response. This man’s a subtle master of his art, one who never does brilliance for show in a music that echoes the depths of the earth.
*I once received a copy of Melina Kana: Portrait to review in my newspaper column and on my first listen I found it only pleasantly appealing, which in retrospect reveals my occasional and appalling lack of awareness in these matters. On my second – to five hundredth – listen, however, it became one of my essential CDs, a collection of compelling and potent performances that range from the initial bouzouki-driven hip-incited Alkoolika Stichakia Vers Ivres (Drunken Verses), to the toe-tapping yet very surreal Tou Christara (For Christara), to the methodically wild and totally irresistible Milo Gia Sena (I Tell of You) with the group Ashkabat from Turkmenistan. This is a song, one finds, that each of Kana’s audiences knows well enough to join the singer. Kana’s voice can sound like a caress, like a firm but distant echo from the mountains of Greece, like a woman deep inside her own long-wounded heart, and like a woman of sophisticated poise who can carry both a taverna or an upscale club and communicate in either with ease.
JAMES STRECKER: You have a new book just published and a number of recent paintings, so please tell us about these projects. Why do they matter to you and why should they matter to us?
