Thursday, April 2, 2026

Quick Takes: Batch #5 (Rubbra, Tüür, Haydn, Debussy, and Ireland)

















Rubbra: Choral Music. Benjamin Hulett, tenor; François Cloete, organ; Benjamin Nicholas, conductor; Choir of Merton College, Oxford; Britten Sinfonia. Delphian DCD34332. 

These are excellent performances of sacred choral music etc. by Edmund Rubbra. The trouble is that, outside of church, university, and civic ensembles, the motet/mass genres don't exactly equate to public prestige. Opera and song have garnered the fanfare that evades these other vocal mediums. Additionally, Rubbra's music tends to suffer lesser popularity due to its gentle, priestly quality even in forceful moments. It's beautiful, even beguiling once you get accustomed to it. But it's not going to beat anyone over the head. For those interested in exploring his mystical world, and want to start with this disc, listen first to "Eternitie" from the Five Motets, Op. 37. This is a fantastic miniature that just may be your key to unlocking the other repertoire offered here. Rubbra's music deserves fans. If you listen to this and it's not your thing, by all means try something else. Verdict: Recommended.

















Erkki-Sven Tüür:
Phantasma; Symphony No. 10 "ÆRIS"; De Profundis. Olari Elts, conductor; Estonian National Symphony Orchestra. ECM New Series 2784. 

I pretty much guessed what I was getting into right before I tried this out of curiosity. Yep, more modernist noise. I mean, look at these titles. Pretension just drips off of them. I could rhetorically claim that I don't see the point of this music, but I actually do. I just don't think it's a very good point. This is all the usual hot air that goes on for far too long and contains nary a tune or anything else a non-dweeb can relate to whatsoever. It's stretches of sound clouds and architecture; in short, it's all concept. Unfortunately, Nordic composers born around a certain time were eager to show that they could "get beyond" Sibelius and Nielsen. They got beyond them, all right. But getting back would be an improvement. Verdict: Gross. 

















Haydn: Baryton Trios Vol. 3 (Hob. XI:26, 50, 57, 72, 80, and 82). Valencia Baryton Project. Naxos 8.574708. 

I won't pretend to have heard all 120-odd baryton trios by Haydn. But once in a while I'll pull out a recording of 5 or 6 of them in the hope that one will imprint upon my heart and memory. It hasn't happened yet. Haydn may have used these works to please his employer and develop compositional skills. But who believes they contain any of his most inspired music? That isn't a slam against this recording or its musicians, who do a fine job with what they're given. It simply means that if you're like me, you'll value what's here as an historical curiosity and pleasant background fare. The series tagline reads "Treasures from the Eszterháza Palace," but "Artifacts" might be a better first word. Buy this recording if you're pursuing a complete sense of Haydn's compositional activities, or just wanting some fluffily nice music. Pass if you're looking for your next Surprise Symphony or Emperor Quartet experience. Verdict: Mildly Recommended.




Archipel. Aline Piboule, pianist. Harmonia Mundi HMM 902776. 

Now this is how you do a solo piano album! The title, Archipel, is French for "archipelago," and most selections relate to islands, the sea, or some relatable natural element. It pairs the music of Debussy with that of...wait for it...John Ireland! A cynic might say that this only shows how much the Englishman owes to the towering French master. But two things here can be true: yes, Ireland was heavily influenced by Debussy, but he also has a real voice of his own. He's represented here by Sarnia: An Island Sequence and Decorations, two of his finest miniature suites. Debussy's fare is more familiar: Claire de Lune, D'un cahier d'esquisses, the L. 82 Nocturne, and Yann Olivio's solo piano transcription of La Mer. This last item is instructive: much of the original work depends upon orchestral timbres to make its sonorities best felt, and the materials seem more modest stripped of that context. But Piboule gives a tremendous account of both this and the other pieces, with a versatility that is at turns bracing and intimate when needed. She respects the power of momentum without ever rushing. Her tone colors are gorgeous. Finally, I love her choice of the Yamaha instrument, whose bright sound she uses to dazzling effect. John Ireland is unlikely to get better advocacy than this. Verdict: Highly Recommended.