Higdon: String Poetic; Ruggles: Mood; Marrison: Grand Duo; Adams: Road Movies. Jennifer Koh, violin; Reiko Uchida, piano. (Cedille 103)

JENNIFER KOH’S NEW CD takes its title from a work Jennifer Higdon wrote especially for her: String Poetic, which aptly describes Koh’s play-ing style, even when a score gets a bit rough. Not that there’s anything too turbulent in this program, which is subtitled American Works: a 21st-Century Perspective. Although Carl Ruggles’ Mood is atonal and one movement of Lou Harrison’s Grand Duo employs tone clusters, everything here is immediately communicative, thanks not only to the composers’ styles, but also to the finesse of Koh and pianist Reiko Uchida.

Higdon’s String Poetic, from 2006, is a five-movement, 20-minute work that makes good use of some mainstream “special effects,” primarily mutes, sul ponticello in the outer movements, and haunting employment of pizzicato at the end of the central movement. Although it begins and ends in agitation, much of the score is quite lyrical.

Mood (1918) is one of Ruggles’ least craggy works, singing eerily through its short atonal journey. Harrison’s Grand Duo, from 1988, is a half-hour suite inspired by Baroque and Renaissance dance formats, but updated. Thus, an estampie becomes a “stampede,” and the final movement is a jaunty polka. Much of this composition initially seems almost dour by the standards of Harrison’s joyful gamelan-inspired pieces, but before long “dour” becomes soulful.

John Adams’ quarter-hour Road Movies, written in 1998, first recorded in 2004 by Leila Josefowicz, and already a contemporary classic, is an imaginary car trip partly fueled by popular-music rhythms. The work allows Koh and Uchida to explore what has become an early 21st-century American musical mindset, which embraces motoric and pop rhythms, multicultural influences, and a willingness to use melody and extended tonality to their full effect. None of this is done with a postmodern smirk; it’s sincere and artful and communicative. Even in the jauntiest pieces, Koh finds a singing line.

Koh plays a Strad that once belonged to Arthur Grumiaux, which is appropriate; even in the Adams, her playing is elegant and aristocratic, like Grumiaux’s would have been if he were a contemporary American.

—JAMES REEL

Shostakovich/Franck: Violin Sonatas. Sergey Khachatryan, violin; Lusine Khachatryan, piano. (Naïve V5122)

Twenty-three-year-old violinist Sergey Khachatryan and his 25-year old sister, pianist Lusine, both born in Armenia, are a natural duo, completely attuned to each other. But they also pursue solo careers: Sergey won the Sibelius Competition in 2000 and the Queen Elisabeth Competition in 2005; he performs with the world’s most prestigious orchestras and conductors. Lusine has participated in international music festivals and concert series, and appeared worldwide in recitals with her brother. This recording is further proof that they are top-flight virtuosos. Most immediately striking is Sergey’s tone: pure, vibrant, and luxurious. Its radiant top register imparts a sunlit shimmer to the opening of the Franck Sonata’s finale, its dark, rich G-string a burnished glow in the second movement. However, his throbbing vibrato produces an almost unremitting intensity. Indeed, the Franck is so super-charged and effusive—with extreme tempi, dynamics, and liberties, and jerky, distorted rhythms—that its lyricism, serenity, and repose are lost.

The Shostakovich Sonata, on the other hand, is superb. The violin tone is much more varied and colorful. Sound effects like pizzicati, harmonics, and unearthly whispers come off beautifully, as do the bleakness of the piano’s widely spaced octaves and crashing chords. The players bring out the work’s mood swings, from grotesque dances and passionate, defiant outbursts to regret and mournful lamentation. And they let the end disintegrate in hopeless desolation.

The CD’s cover photograph is rather startling: the players seem to be burning some music—is this meant to indicate their fiery temperament?

—EDITH EISLER

Music@Menlo Live: Bridging the Ages. The Escher String Quartet, the Miami String Quartet: Philip Setzer, Joseph Swensen, Ian Swensen, Erin Keefe, violins; Roberto Diaz, Paul Neubauer, viola; David Finckel, Ralph Kirshbaum, Colin Carr, cellos; Daxun Zhang, bass; et al. Six CDs; musicatmenlo.org

Music@Menlo—given annually on the San Francisco peninsula and co-directed by cellist David Finckel of the Emerson String Quartet and his wife, pianist Wu Han—is one of the finest summer chamber festivals in the land, and evidence arrives with six CDs drawn from the 2007 concerts. This festival’s theme, and the recordings’ title, was Bridging the Ages. It has to do with tributes and borrowings, but connections between the works as assembled on the CDs are not always apparent. Still, there’s some superb music making here, no matter its organizing principle.

Much of the work will strongly appeal to string aficionados. In the standard repertory division, violinist Joseph Swensen and cellist Ralph Kirshbaum join forces with pianist and festival co-director Wu Han for a hyper-romantic and intense performance of Tchaikovsky’s Piano Trio. The Escher String Quartet, a foursome barely out of the Manhattan School of Music, deploys immaculate technique and a burnished tone in a much cooler, but effective reading of Mendelssohn’s Quartet No. 2. The Eschers also do themselves proud in an attractive Boccherini guitar quintet with Jason Vieaux and Bottesini’s operatic Gran duo concertante with violinist Erin Keefe and bassist Daxun Zhang.

The Miami String Quartet is on hand for a pair of death-obsessed works: Bruce Adolphe’s String Quartet No. 4, “Whispers of Mortality,” concerns a dying man coming to terms with his demise. There’s warmth to much of it, and occasional hints of Janácek. This pairs naturally with Schubert’s “Death and the Maiden” Quartet, here given a performance that is both elegant and dynamic.

Other highlights: a thick and powerful performance of Brahms’ Piano Quartet No. 1 (the one with the Gypsy rondo); a suave reading by Ian Swensen and Gilbert Kalish of Ravel’s Violin Sonata; an alternately moody and ecstatic treatment of Korngold’s Suite for Two Violins, Cello, and Piano (Left-Hand); and a wonderfully exuberant romp through Saint-Saëns’ Carnival of the Animals.

There’s much more as well.

—J.R.

Haydn: Trios: C major, Hob. XV 27; E♭ minor, Hob. XV 31; E major, Hob. XV 28. The Queen’s Chamber Trio: Robert Zubrycki, violin; Peter Seidenberg, cello; Elaine Comparone, harpsichord. (Lyrichord LEMS 8061)

Mozart: The 1788 Trios: E major, K. 542; C major, K. 548; G major, K. 564. The Queen’s Chamber Trio. (Lyrichord LEMS 8054)

The Queen’s Chamber Trio grew out of the Queen’s Chamber Band, a ten-member ensemble founded in 1992 by harpsichordist Elaine Comparone. While the band focuses on music for harpsichord, the trio specializes in literature written when the fortepiano was beginning to replace the harpsichord and the instruments often were used interchangeably. Today, the trios recorded here are usually performed with a grand piano, but the harpsichord, though limited in dynamics, was chosen by these players for its lively, transparent sound and because it never overpowers the strings. However, their claim that it blends better with the strings than the piano is not borne out by these records. In fact, it takes a while for the ear to adjust to the very different sonorities of the harpsichord and the modern stringed instruments. The usual balance problem is reversed: though the violinist vibrates judiciously and the cellist hardly at all, the strings are often too loud for the harpsichord’s plucked, unsustained sound, especially in the Haydn trios.

The programs feature both composers’ late masterpieces.

The Haydn disc includes the first and third of the famous three trios he wrote on his English visit in 1794–95; the second is replaced by the relatively unfamiliar, somber E♭ minor Trio, a contrast of form, tonality, and mood. All are full of meltingly beautiful melodies, daring modulations, and harmonic surprises, sparkling humor and deep expressivity. In these late trios, Haydn gave the violin some wonderful solos, though the cello still doubles the bass.

The three Mozart trios, dating from the same year as his last three symphonies, show him at his most buoyant and serene. Written for himself and his amateur friends, the piano dominates but, like Haydn, he increasingly made the instruments equal partners. In these trios the strings sing out and engage in spirited conversations.

The playing is splendid. Tempi are sensible (except the glacially slow Andante of Mozart’s C major Trio); repeats are ornamented; the phrasing is clear; the expressiveness is natural and deeply felt. The cellist uses quasi-Baroque articulation, putting swells on long notes. The violinist’s tone is varied in color and intensity and is strikingly beautiful.

The performers’ enjoyment of the music and the collaboration speaks through every note.

—E.E.

The Lindemann Series, Vol. V. Lindemann plays Schumann, Schubert, Benjamin, Paganini, and Hubay. Hartmut Lindemann, viola; Megumi Hashiba, piano; Roman Viazovskiy, guitar. (Tacet 143; spinningdogrecords.com)

Hartmut Lindemann—soloist, orchestral principal, and professor (at the Musikhochschule in Muenster)—continues on his unique way through the viola literature with an imaginative recital of original and adapted works. In fact, only the dark and powerful Benjamin Sonata was composed for the viola (and commissioned by William Primrose), with a ghostly Scherzo that filmmaker Tim Burton would love and a surprisingly effective toccata to top things off. The surprise is Lindemann’s transcription of Schumann’s Violin Sonata, Op. 121, which works especially well in the quietly lyrical sections of the inner movements, and brings its own, uniquely viola-ish virtuosity to the high-flying moments in the last movement. And, of course, the Schubert Arpeggione with a guitar is just heavenly. The encores by Paganini and Hubay, which conclude the recital, are suitably brilliant.

Lindemann’s lovely 1998 Andrea Robin-Frandsen viola features a thrilling high end, suggesting a streamlined violinistic timbre that morphs smoothly into an elegant middle register and a rich low bass. Tacet’s audiophile sound captures their individual sounds with great beauty.

Wolfgang Wendel’s engaging booklet notes describe Lindemann as a “true violist” (he never played the violin), provide useful details about the transcriptions, and end with a few pages of provocative philosophical meandering that include an inevitable reference to Kierkegaard.

The only caveat is that it is likely to inspire a spending spree for Vols. I–IV.

—LAURENCE VITTES

John David Earnest: World-premiere recordings. The Blue Estuaries, Winter Dances, Trois Morceaux. Judith Kellock, soprano; Ensemble X; Sebastian Gottschick, cond.; Mariam Adam, clarinet; Hrabba Atladottir, violin; Peter Sanders, cello; Evelyn Ulex, piano. (KOCH 7555)

Born in 1940 in Texas and educated at the University of Texas—Austin, John David Earnest has written extensively in every vocal and instrumental genre, from chamber music to opera. He has received numerous grants and commissions, is composer-in-residence and visiting professor at Whitman College in Walla Walla, Washington, and has taught at Rutgers University, New Jersey, and Lehman College, New York. He now lives and teaches privately in New York City.

Winter Dances (1991) was originally commissioned by New Music for Young Ensembles, and later adopted by a dance group in the revised form recorded here. Scored for clarinet, cello, and piano, its four contrasting connected movements are built on short rhythmic and melodic motives, interspersed with improvisations. The style is eclectic, with elements of jazz and minimalism. Exuberant, grotesque dances alternate with lovely, lyrical melodies. Sound effects like slides, whispers, bangs, and tinkles abound.

Blue Estuaries, commissioned by Harvey Phillips in 1986, is a setting of seven poems by Louise Bogan. (Unfortunately, the booklet does not include the texts.) Scored for soprano, often in the highest register, and an ensemble of strings, winds, and piano used in different combinations for each song, the music explores and underlines the poems’ mood and atmosphere, going from jerky and aggressive to gentle and lyrical.

Trois Morceaux, for clarinet, violin, and cello, won a competition sponsored by New Music for Young Ensembles. Two sprightly, syncopated movements flank a somber, mournful Elegy; the instruments engage in lively dialogue and commentary, sing long melodies and produce colorful sound effects. The performances are most excellent, secure, and responsive to every style and expression. The players project dedication and enjoyment.

—E.E.