Konzertstück PS

Post on Schumann's Konzertstück For Four Horns & Orchestra 

Schumann wrote one further four horn piece in 1849. A couple of years earlier, he had taken a post as director of the Dresden Liedertafel, a male voice choir. By the time he composed this, for voices and horns, he had left the choir, complaining to a friend that it “offered too little in the way of actual musical inspiration.” 

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The unusual scoring of the Fünf Gesänge aus H. Laubes Jagdbrevier has a distinguished precedent. Maybe Schumann had this piece in mind when he wrote his Op. 137:

The text for Schubert's Nachtgesang im Walde can be found here - as ever, the horn is the go-to instrument for anything to do with woodlands or hunting (”Waldhorn” = “wood” or “forest” horn).

Staying with Schubert and the horn, here’s one final clip: the lovely Auf dem Strom, beautifully performed by Mark Padmore, Paul Lewis and Richard Watkins (text).

Robert Schumann - Konzertstück For Four Horns And Orchestra (1849)

A valveless brass instrument will sound the pitches of the harmonic series (see here for a horn example). Players produce these notes by varying the tension of the lips and the speed of the air travelling through the instrument. Skilful performers on the ‘natural’, valveless horn developed ways of filling in the gaps, through a combination of ‘stopping’ (altering the position of the hand in the bell) and bending notes by simply using the lips. The valved horn arrived on the scene around 1814, and improvements were made over the following decades (interesting article on these developments here). Over time, this did away with the need for the stopping and bending of notes, and began to give composers access to the full chromatic scale in decent, consistent sound*.  Some composers embraced the new technology, while others remained attached to the older instrument. Brahms was a notable champion of the natural horn - for instance, he always insisted that his marvellous trio for violin, horn and piano (1865) should only be played on the valveless instrument.

Brahms - Trio for violin, horn and piano op. 40 - Isabelle Faust (violin, Stradivarius ‘Sleeping Beauty’ - 1704); Teunis van der Zwart (natural horn, Lorenz - 1845); Alexander Melnikov (Bösendorfer piano - 1875)

In a performance as fine as this, it is perhaps possible to hear what Brahms felt was in danger of being lost. For starters, this natural horn (or ’Waldhorn,’ as Brahms would have known it) makes a gorgeous, rich sound. More subtly, the variation in tone across the range of the instrument is fascinating; I have a feeling of getting to know the unique character of the old horn as the music progresses. Van der Zwart is a marvel, shifting fluently between the full open notes and the more pinched, stopped notes, without doing any damage to Brahms’ long phrases. A record to set alongside the finest modern instrument performances.

Sixteen years before Brahms wrote his horn trio, Schumann was in the middle of a purple patch. Over the course of 1849, his work expanded in a variety of directions at once, resulting in 40-odd pieces of music (these few pages from John Daverio’s excellent book give a good idea of the range of work he produced - scroll to page 390). His major contributions to the horn repertoire arrived in this year, beginning with the Op. 70 Adagio and Allegro for valve horn and piano. Schumann’s enthusiasm for the new instrument is clear; while some of his 1849 output was designed for amateur musicians, his Op. 70 is an almost gleefully tricky study of the valve horn’s possibilities:

Schumann - Adagio and Allegro for Horn and Piano, Op. 70 - David Cooper (horn); Cary Chow (piano)

A few months later, Schumann produced this astonishing piece for four valve horns and orchestra:

Schumann - Konzertstück for 4 Horns and Orchestra, Op. 86 - Nigel Black, Laurence Davies, Laurence Rogers, Peter Blake (horns); Philharmonia / Christian Thielemann

Movement 2 here / Movement 3 here.

On first hearing, the most striking thing about the Konzertstück is the glorious sound of Schumann’s powerful superinstrument; that opening salvo is the first of many great moments of unfiltered four horn colour. Throughout the first movement, he plays with this familiar, heroic aspect of the horn’s character, alternating perilous (natural horn?) fanfares with smoother, softer (valve horn?) phrases. The second movement Romanze begins with a horn duet, all half-lights and gently reaching lines. Schumann has the second horn closely follow the first in canon, before establishing a pizzicato pulse, over which all four horns open up and sing more freely. This beautiful passage returns later in the finale, which is otherwise a good-natured romp.

Cruelly, the best performances of the Konzertstück seem to be those which drive the quartet quite hard. The exceptionally difficult first and third movements should move fairly swiftly, if they’re not to come across as too polite or smoothed out. There needs to be a sense of risk - a feeling that someone might crack a note in the first movement fanfares, or maybe struggle to keep up in the to and fro of the finale (even though we know that wouldn’t survive the edit). The Thielemann performance above is very fine, distinguished by some especially strong first horn playing, and a really lovely group sound in the slow movement (in a biggish church acoustic - All Hallows, Gospel Oak).

As it’s such a terror to pull off (particularly for the first horn), the Konzertstück is a relative rarity in the concert hall. I heard it years ago in Nottingham from the choir stalls (not recommended), and then again at the 2007 Proms, as part of a day of brass-themed concerts. Thankfully, this Proms performance was included on the cover CD of BBC Music Magazine a few years later. It might take you a few minutes to track down a second-hand copy online, but it would be well worth your trouble.

David Pyatt, Michael Thompson, Martin Owen and Cormac Ó hAodáin are superb throughout, as is Charles Mackerras, alert as always, pushing and pulling in all the right places. Everything is that bit more vivid here - in the moment, the horns encourage each other to greater feats of virtuosity and volume, and orchestra and audience are right behind them. Very highly recommended.

* The invention of the valve created a few problems for experienced natural hornists. Players faced not only getting to grips with the valves themselves, but also the added difficulty of learning to transpose music at sight - where the valveless horn player would change key by fitting the correct length piece of tubing (or ‘crook’), the valved instruments were pitched in a single key, requiring players to make the necessary adjustments in their heads.

From Gabrieli To Grandi (with Charles Daniels)

The first time I heard the music of Giovanni Gabrieli, it sounded something like this:

One of these massed U.S. brass section tapes sat in my overworked Walkman for months, providing the soundtrack to my journey to and from school. A few years later, as a trombonist in a city full of trombonists, I had the opportunity to play some of this music. Our more sober performances were closer in style to those by the Philip Jones Brass Ensemble or the London Symphony Brass: without tubas, horns or the often present organist, E. Power Biggs. A few years later, I picked up A Venetian Coronation 1595, the debut record by the Gabrieli Consort & Players, directed by Paul McCreesh. This revelatory disc was my introduction to the sonatas and canzonas played on (wooden) cornetts and (trombone forerunner) sackbuts (sample that special sound here). It was also my first encounter with the vocal music of Gabrieli and his uncle Andrea.

For Venetian Coronation, McCreesh put together a speculative reconstruction of a Doge’s coronation, interspersing the Gabrielis’ music with bells, fanfares and the appropriate plainchant, in an attempt to transport the listener to St. Mark’s, Venice (it was actually recorded in Brinkburn Priory, Northumberland). This disc had a profound effect on my developing musical tastes, partly because it prompted an exploration of the many riches of the pre-Baroque repertoire. Perhaps even more importantly, it was the first time I had truly enjoyed listening to classical solo voices. In those days, I preferred orchestral and choral blockbusters - the big, vibrato-laden voices of Romantic opera still seemed to belong to a distant musical world. The opening of the first Kyrie on Venetian Coronation was another matter, though. Here, I first heard the ‘cleaner,’ firmer voice of Charles Daniels, blending beautifully with the less brassy, more vocal period trombones. Poring over the liner notes of my then modest collection of early music CDs, I started to see the same names cropping up repeatedly, and made a point of searching for discs featuring my favourites.

McCreesh’s next reconstruction imagined a Venetian Vespers service, "as it might have been celebrated on Friday 24th March 1643." By 1643, Claudio Monteverdi was in charge of music at St. Mark’s* (he died the same year). The set includes a handful of pieces by him, including an ingenious Laetatus Sum, but most of the music is by his younger colleagues, including Alessandro Grandi, who was made Monteverdi’s deputy in 1620. By this time, Venetian church music had changed. Composers had dispensed with the large choirs of cornetts and sackbuts, writing more often for solo voices with smaller accompanying groups of instruments. Several of the singers I had got to know on Coronation returned for Vespers, including Charles Daniels, whose performance of Grandi’s marvellous O Intemerata remains a great favourite.

Alessandro GRANDI (?1586-1630) - O Intemerata (from ‘Motetti A Voce Sola’) - Charles Daniels (tenor); Paula Chateauneuf (chitarrone); Timothy Roberts (organ)

This virtuosic Marian motet packs an awful lot into its four and a bit minutes; Grandi’s music moves easily between moments of great tenderness and surprisingly unchecked abandon. Looking back, I know I rarely used to consider the meaning of the text when I was younger. I was more taken by the beautiful sound of the words, as well as the performance itself, in which Daniels pushes his voice towards its limits - the ecstatic final repeats of "et virgo gloriosa" still astonish.

* In 1595, Baldassare Donato was maestro di cappella.

Jazz Corner - Jazz Samples In 90s Hip Hop

This side by side jazz / hip hop playlist came about as a result of an afternoon spent on the excellent whosampled.com website, looking up favourite artists. My main concern was the quality and variety of the jazz on show here, although I think the hip hop list has turned out pretty well too (I'm certainly no expert). If the sample used by the hip hop producers isn't immediately obvious, I've provided timings at the end of the notes on each track.

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1. John Coltrane - Acknowledgement (Coltrane) (from the album 'A Love Supreme') - Coltrane (ts); McCoy Tyner (p); Jimmy Garrison (b); Elvin Jones (d). Impulse!. 12/64.

A Love Supreme was the first Coltrane album I heard. In playing the record to death, I sometimes used to listen to each musician in turn. Elvin Jones' contribution fascinated me, perhaps because it took me so far from the classical music I knew and loved (there's a trick you can try here - turn your stereo balance all the way to the right to focus on the drums, and move Coltrane into the background). It's a pity Da Nuthouse replaced Jones with a slap-in-the-face snare, although it could perhaps have proved tricky to rap over that subtle polyrhythmic wizardry.

1. Da Nuthouse - A Love Supream (Da Nuthouse / Jahee / DJ Active) Fondle 'Em. 98.

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2. McCoy Tyner - Impressions (Coltrane) (from the album 'Trident') - Tyner (p); Ron Carter (b); Elvin Jones (d). Original Jazz Classics. 2/75.

Two former Coltrane sidemen revisiting a piece they must have played hundreds of times before. Coltrane's own versions tended to be more epic than this concise account - try this favourite recording from the 1963 Newport Festival. The Newport record has a very different feel from the classic quartet albums, thanks to the lighter, springier touch of Roy Haynes, sitting in for Elvin Jones. (The sample is a clever grab of a short phrase from Ron Carter's bass solo (3'03"). If you've heard the Black Sheep song, it leaps out).

2. Black Sheep - The Choice Is Yours (revisited) (McLean / Titus) (from the album 'A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing') Mercury. 91.

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3. Eric Dolphy & Booker Little - Mrs. Parker of K.C. (Bird's Mother) (Byard) (from the album 'Far Cry') - Dolphy (bclt); Little (t); Jaki Byard (p); Ron Carter (b); Roy Haynes (d). Original Jazz Classics. 12/60.

A fruity, knotty tribute to Charlie Parker's Mum. Jaki Byard: 'The song came out of my meeting her once. She's a very pleasant woman, and I began to think about how differently Bird turned out from the way she must have expected and hoped for when he was a boy.' Out To Lunch is the best-known Eric Dolphy album, thanks in part to that famous Reid Miles cover, familiar from the walls of bars and record shops that wouldn't dream of putting it on. I probably play Far Cry more often, largely because I'm a huge fan of Booker Little. Little plays a great solo here: beautifully put-together and (seemingly) effortlessly technically immaculate. Dolphy's solo still provokes and surprises, 45 years on. (The sample is another smart borrowing from a Ron Carter solo - bowed this time - 6'12").

3. Del The Funky Homosapien - Catch A Bad One (Del The Funky Homosapien / Casual) (from the album 'No Need For Alarm') Elektra. 94.

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4. Charles Mingus - Fables Of Faubus (Mingus) (from the album 'Mingus Ah Um') - Mingus (b); Willie Dennis, Jimmy Knepper (tbn); John Handy (as); Booker Ervin, Shafi Hadi (ts); Pepper Adams (bs); Horace Parlan (p); Dannie Richmond (d). Columbia. 5/59.

A portrait of the racist former governor of Arkansas, Orval Faubus, who did his very best to prevent the desegregation of schools in Little Rock, Arkansas, defying a federal court order (more here). In 1960, Mingus recorded another version, Original Faubus Fables, which has sung and spoken lyrics. According to the liner notes for this Candid release, Columbia wouldn't let Mingus record the words.

4. T-Love - What's My Name? (T-Love / This Kid Named Miles) (from the EP 'Return Of The B-Girl) Pickininny Records. 98.

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5. Clifford Brown - Yesterdays (Kern) (from the album 'Clifford Brown With Strings') - Brown (t); Richie Powell (p); Barry Galbraith (g); George Morrow (b); Max Roach (d); strings. Verve. 1/55.

I'm not a massive fan of Neal Hefti's soupy string arrangements on this record, but I'll listen to Clifford Brown play anything. A friend once gave me a minidisc of Brown practising, and even that is pretty compelling. For more of Clifford Brown in ballad mode, try the marvellous record with Sarah Vaughan), set down a few months before With Strings.

5. KRS-One - MCs Act Like They Don't Know (KRS-One / DJ Premier) (from the album 'KRS-One') Jive. 95.

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6. Ornette Coleman - Lonely Woman (Coleman) (from the album 'The Shape Of Jazz To Come') - Coleman (as); Don Cherry (pkt-t); Charlie Haden (b); Billy Higgins (d). Atlantic. 10/59.

Coleman's name still strikes fear into the hearts of some, although The Shape Of Jazz To Come is nowhere near as forbidding as they might suspect. Of course, it's the idea of 'free jazz' that puts people off, but, at this stage (1959!), the freer elements are housed within a sequence of often lyrical compositions, and the solos are concise and beautifully constructed. (This is one of the best bits of hip hop sampling I've heard. Combined with a more hip hop friendly beat, taken from Rusty Bryant's Fire Eater - 8'21", Haden and Higgins play their part in a great rolling groove).

6. Aceyalone - Human Language (Aceyalone / Mumbles) (from the album 'A Book Of Human Language') Project Blowed Records. 98.

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7. Art Blakey & The Jazz Messengers - Stretching (Williams) (from the album 'Reflections In Blue') - Blakey (d); Valerie Ponomarev (t); Bobby Watson (as); David Schnitter (ts); James Williams (p); Dennis Irwin (b). Timeless. 12/78.

Art Blakey's distinguished jazz finishing school ran from the mid 50s until the late 80s - the list of alumni is pretty staggering. The Jazz Messengers stuck to a tried and tested musical formula, offering hot, hot solos driven by Blakey's volcanic drumming. This later effort maybe lacks some of the energy of the great 50s/60s Messengers records; even Blakey himself is relatively restrained, while the slick recorded drum sound doesn't really suit. Still, every Jazz Messengers record is worth hearing. I particularly enjoyed altoist Bobby Watson, who, like so many other Messengers, went on to make his own fine records (here's the opening track from his 1990 album Post-Motown Bop).

7. De La Soul - Oodles Of Os (Prince Paul / De La Soul) (from the album 'De La Soul Is Dead') Tommy Boy. 91.

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8. Miles Davis - Miles Runs The Voodoo Down (Davis) (from the album 'Bitches Brew') - Davis (t); Wayne Shorter (ss); Bennie Maupin (bclt); Chick Corea, Larry Young (el p); John McLaughlin (g); Harvey Brooks, Dave Holland (b); Charles Alias, Jack DeJohnette, Lenny White (d); Jim Riley (perc). Columbia. 8/69.

In 1969, Miles Davis took a large band into the studio, and recorded hours of improvised music. Davis and producer Teo Macero then assembled Bitches Brew by cutting and splicing until they had what they needed. The final product still fills two CDs, though you can now buy a four CD set containing much of the music that was discarded. For me, Voodoo is one of the more successful tracks - a classic slow funk groove, that was bound to be plundered by hip hop producers at some point. If you've got 14 minutes, it's well worth listening to the whole thing, just to check out what these musicians could do.

8. Lootpack - Frenz vs. Endz (J. Brown / R. Jimenez / Otis Jackson Jr.) (from the album 'Soundpieces: Da Antidote!) Stones Throw. 99.

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9. Charlie Parker - A Night In Tunisia (Gillespie / Paparelli) (from the album 'Bird Symbols') - Parker (as); Miles Davis (t); Lucky Thompson (ts); Dodo Marmarosa (p); Arvin Garrison (g); Vic McMillan (b); Roy Porter (d). Rhapsody. 3/46.

A Night In Tunisia is one of Dizzy Gillespie's lasting contributions to the repertoire. Here, from 1953, is a classic, much longer version, featuring Gillespie himself (compare and contrast with the young Miles Davis). These Tunisias sent me to the shelves for a couple of favourite versions by other artists on this playlist. Here is the 1960 edition of the Jazz Messengers, and here is an inspired Clifford Brown at a music shop jam session in 1956. The outrageous Messengers version features a superhumanly pumped up Art Blakey, and includes wild closing cadenzas from Lee Morgan (Blakey: 'Get mad!') and Wayne Shorter.

9. Gang Starr - Manifest (Gang Starr) (from the album 'No More Mr. Nice Guy') Wild Pitch. 89.

Xhosa Cole Trio - Derby Museum & Art Gallery - 22/2/25

Xhosa Cole (tenor sax); Josh Vadiveloo (bass); Tim Giles (drums)

Xhosa Cole's latest record, On A Modern Genius Vol. 1, came out in January. Save for a Duke Ellington coda, all of the compositions are by Thelonious Monk, whose 72 timeless tunes continue to fascinate musicians of all kinds. Recorded on a single night in Cole's hometown of Birmingham, it captures a touring band in full flow, fizzing with energy and ideas. The sax/guitar/bass/drums line-up is augmented by tap dancer Liberty Styles, whose contribution adds an extra rhythmic layer to the music. In a recent interview*, Cole, who has a background in dance, reflects on the sometimes neglected tradition of dance in modern jazz, pointing out that drummers Jack DeJohnette and Roy Haynes were also tap dancers, and that Monk himself would often get up and dance at his gigs (which sometimes accounts for the pianoless minutes on those live records). Styles is brilliantly accommodated and cajoled by drummer Tim Giles; together they succeed in making the music a vital, bodily experience, even for those of us with two left feet. 

On his current tour, Cole is continuing his investigation into Monk's music, although, if what we heard in Derby is typical, he's trying a different path. Stripped back to sax, bass and drums, the band gave us a series of long, almost dreamlike suites, bringing in another theme only when they'd had a thorough play with the previous one. Cole's soloing tended towards this exhaustive approach - he would worry away at an idea, looking at it from all sides. Freed of the obligations of playing with a guitarist and a dancer, drummer and bassist spent a lot less time spelling out the pulse in the music - straight swing was the exception rather than the rule. That it still worked well suggests a group with a lot of musical trust, as well as one that has absorbed the Monk-like knowledge of when to do more and when to do less. 

While the removal of the pulse and harmony instrument guardrails creates interesting freedoms for the performers, it can also make life harder for the listener determined to stay engaged. On the night, it took me a little while to find my feet, or, perhaps, to find the dance - sometimes I had to make it myself, with a little nodding and swaying. The absence of piano or guitar seemed to open up the space in front of the drums and bass, inviting me to step in, and to examine more closely the ways they improvised and interacted. As time went on, I was able to pull in and out of focus, moving between the delicious detail and the overall effect - a rich, absorbing experience.

(Since the gig, I've gone back to some of the great sax/bass/drums records of the past, starting with Sonny Rollins' A Night At The Village Vanguard (1957), a template for the pianoless trio. From there, I've delved into music by Lee Konitz, Ornette Coleman and Albert Ayler, moving on to Greg Osby, David Murray, Kenny Garrett, Bennie Maupin, Branford Marsalis, Steve Lehman, Gary Smulyan and Joe Lovano, as well as a couple of UK favourites, by Julians Siegel and Argüelles.**) 

* Jazzwise, February 2025

** Maybe I'll put together a playlist...