Tuesday 11 November 2008

War Poems of Wilfred Owen (Paperback)

*****
An excellent edition of an outstanding poet
31 Oct 2008

This review is intended to serve two different audiences: in the first part I'll talk about Owen's poetry, and why, if you've not done so before, you should, must and absolutely have to spend some time getting to grips with his writing; and in the second part I'll deal with the ins and outs of this particular edition of his verse (there being a great many available on the market.)

So, why be so insistent that you read Owen? Well, he was in many ways the most talented poet writing in English in the First World War, and his poems go furthest to communicate the experience of the men who fought in the trenches to readers almost a century away from the battles he saw. His most famous poems, such as "Anthem for Doomed Youth" and "Dulce et decorum est" are lyrical, elegant pieces of poetry that present intensely moving images of what Owen himself described as "the pity of war", and no-one will ever forget the image of the young man who was a second too slow to put his gas mask on. These poems are his most traditional, owing a clear debt to Keats and Shelley, and it seems as though in them he is writing the final verses of the great Victorian century of poetry. Yet there is much more to his writing: some of his poetry shows the early shoots of modernism, for example in the more allusive (and elusive) "Strange Meeting" and "Insensibilty", in which Owen seems to be looking forward, using language and techniques not unlike those of Eliot and Pound. For me, though, the poem which has moved me every time I have read it for over 15 years is "Futility", a tender and beautiful lament for a young man killed just before dawn. It is true that 90 years have passed since Owen died, but his poetry remains for us the defining account of the Great War.

So to the second part of this review. Owen is back on the A-level syllabus, and many readers will want to know if this book will help them in their studies. And the short answer is, yes. John Stallworthy is an excellent editor: honest and open about the choices he has made, and uncricitical in his provision of a great variety of alternative views and interpretations. His notes, which follow every poem, are wonderfully generous (citing whole other poems where necessary), and each poem is given a brief account of the circumstances in which it was produced. His introduction is excellent, describing Owen's life and literary influences (an understanding of which is essential if you are to really get to grips with his work), and giving readings of some of his more famous works. In all, I could not wish for a better edition of his war poetry: early and incomplete works are also provided, and the feeling one gets is of first rate scholarship.

I will be honest that for some time I had an ambivalent relationship with Owen's work, beeing too much distracted by the apparent simplicity of his more famous work, and not appreciating the remarkable creative process, and in particular his engagement with the poetic tradition, that lies behind his work. Using this edition has restored my enjoyment, and I am hugely greatful for it. I cannot recommend it highly enough.


Stanford:Choral and Organ Works

****
Flawed, but wonderful nonetheless
3rd November, 2008

Stanford in C. There are few phrases so evocative for any musician who has spent any period of time performing English church music. The words are redolent with faded Victorian pomp, a little like those glass cases full of stuffed birds, or a large, overstuffed armchair. The phrases move along in their steady four-four rhythm, with a gently plodding bass-line below, and occasional moments where the basses get a rest, and the top voices drift away on a melody that would rather like to be limpid, but had a little too much for lunch. But, despite all this, and it is so easy to mock Stanford, I love his music. His evening service in C maybe a little full of hubris, but his service in G is charming, and the three latin motets are genuinely well written. And for those reasons alone, you should buy this disc, and have a jolly good enjoyable listen to it, perhaps with a glass of sherry, and a leg of mutton to wash it all down.

But that's not quite the full picture. The choir of St John's College, Cambridge, are a very fine group indeed, and their series of English choral music for Naxos has been a very welcome addition to the catalogue. Much of their singing is excellent: Christopher Robinson trains the boys to sing with incision and great intonation, and out of the ranks of the young, male choral scholars have come some of the finest singers of this current generation (there are one or two present on this disc, for good measure.) They can be thrilling, and they can be blended, but I can't help feeling the performances are not very well balanced. For example, in the middle of "For Lo, I Raise Up", there is a beautiful passage of very sensitive writing, but Robinson forces the crescendo of the line almost beyond breaking point, and any sense of mood is gone for good. And what's more, there are some really quite unpleasant noises that come out of the speakers when one listens attentively: the trebles can be harsh (and dominated by Oliver LePage-Dean, who is - admittedly - excellent, but it makes for tiring listening), and the alto line in the early bars of the C major Magnificat seems to have been replaced by enthusiastic chickens. One can only hope they were free range. My suspicion is that the budget nature of the recording has something to do with this, and that takes which otherwise should not have been put onto the CD were included for the lack of any alternatives. In any case, I don't think this singing represents John's at their best.

But here's the thing: why are we consigning Stanford to the dusty recesses of Choral Evensong when he has so much more to offer? Performed with organ his music is, it is true, a bit flat-footed, but that's not the way he wanted it to be heard. His music was written for a large choir with an orchestra, and he wrote for orchestra with real skill, and there is some thrilling orchestration to be found (I recently experienced the Evening Service in A to the accompaniment of a full orchestra, and the effect was a revelation: suddenly Stanford's talent became clear to me.) So, should any passing record producers stumble across my review, here's my challenge to you: do a disc of Stanford using the chorus and orchestra of La Scala. I think it would sound bloody great.

Hamlet (Norton Critical Editions) (Paperback)

****
Very useful, but caution is advised
11 Nov 2008

There are a great many editions of Hamlet available at the moment, and, as it is a play that is never far from the syllabuses of A-level boards and university English departments, there are a great many people who need a copy of the text that they can trust, and which will give them the level of support they need to get the most out of this text. The Norton Critical Edition of "Hamlet" will, of course, be of great service to some people, but many readers will be better off elsewhere. In short (as I've realised this review is getting rather long), if you're studying the play for AS level, then this is probably not the best book for you: try the Cambridge School Shakespeare instead, and add the York notes for extra depth and background information. If you're at A2 or university, then the more detailed text of the Oxford (my preference) or Arden editions will be of greater use. So, that rather begs the question, who is this book good for?

To answer that, let's look at what the book actually does. Norton Critical Editions receive their name from the selection of critical material which they provide in the form of extended appendices to the main text. In this case, there is a very useful section on "Intellectual Contexts", which includes contemporary writings on such topics as Melancholy, ghosts, and also gives excerpts from Montaigne's "Apology", which bears striking similarities to Hamlet's speech early in Act 2 on "what a piece of work is man." In terms of enriching one's appreciation of the terms of reference in which Shakespeare's plays were understood, these texts are invaluable, but their provision seems arbitrary: no justification is given for their selection, and there is no direct evidence that Shakespeare read any of them (even the Montaigne essay is the subject of debate amongst critics as to whether or not Shakespeare had read it, or whether it was itself simply part of a wider discussion at the time about human nature). Moreover, there are countless more omissions than there can be inclusions - there is no Greek mythology, no Garden of Eden, no early English tragedy against which to judge the play-within-a-play - so one is left feeling a little adrift, especially if your knowledge of the period is not very strong.

The "critical" part of this edition comes in the form of a very generous selection of essays and responses to the play, including some early criticism (although it would have been nice to have some contemporary writing on drama too), going back to the early 18th century, and with a liberal selection of big names, including Hazlitt, Goethe, Coleridge, Wilson Knight, Eliot, Lawrence and Lewis. These have been well edited to leave only the apposite passages, and in many cases are an absolute delight to read. Lawrence's comment that Hamlet seems "a creeping, unclean thing" is well worth remembering in the light of Goethe's pure "soul unfit", and Bradley's essay on the play is excellent (it's a spirited defence of Claudius).

This is a very attractive package, and it is for the critical material that I can award the book four stars, but there are some significant drawbacks. Firstly, the text of the play itself is nothing more than a cleaned up version of the first quarto, with no indication as to where the Folio (or any other texts) vary from it. Moreover, the editing of the text is niggardly in its provision of supporting notes and explanations, which means that it really is only of use if you have another, fuller version of the play (like the Oxford edition) to hand. Lastly, there is no introduction, so the editorial principles cannot be set out, leaving us rather in the dark as to what choices were made, and what the rationale was behind those choices.

In the end, we are left with a really useful book that is not really very useful, as you'll always need other texts to hand to get the most out of it. If you're planning on doing serious work on the play, then yes, I can recommend it, and, if someone else is paying for your books, then it's a fantastic addition to your shelf, but for other readers, I can't quite see how it all fits together.


Saturday 4 October 2008

The Brabant Ensemble - Morales - Magnificat

****
An excellent recording, but there is a caveat
4 Oct 2008

Amazon reviews are a funny old business. My experience has led me to believe that people only really say reviews are helpful if they award a product five stars, and that more moderate reviews are either overlooked or deemed unhelpful. Perhaps people see a helpful review as one which confirms a decision they have already made, and anything which might cause them to reconsider is just a nuisance. I don't know. But despite my desire for popular reviews, I'm not going to award five stars, and I have a good reason for it. However, if you want a disc of outstanding music sung with precision, beauty of line and great taste, then look no further. Morales was the first great master of Spanish music, setting the stage for a century of musical splendour to match the apogee of the nation's star on the world stage, and his writing is moving, understated, emotionally intense and exquisite throughout. The Lamentations are real masterpieces, and the other motets distinctive and no less well crafted. Moreover, the singing by the Brabant Ensemble is of the highest order, well blended, tasteful and possessing a fine tone.

So why only four stars? Well, for the simple reason that this disc is yet another beautifully performed selection of polyphonic choral music by a professional ensemble consisting mostly of singers who began their careers at Oxbridge colleges. And there's the rub: this is, sadly, nothing new. There are now dozens of ensembles out there (and I have commented in another review on the practice drawing on a relatively limited pool of singers to make up the bulk of Britain's professional choirs), each of which promises to perform unjustly neglected music, but I must admit they are pretty hard to tell apart. With the exception of the fantastically barmy i fagiolini, they perform the repertoire in a very safe way, one that fits our preconceptions of how the music "should" sound.

So here is my challenge to the directors of Britain's early music groups: do something new! Yes, performance styles have changed over the past three decades, but surely now it's time to do something really radical with these "early dots". Be imaginative, outrageous even, but please don't give us any more of this sort of performance.

Monday 21 July 2008

Christian Gerhaher - Robert Schumann "Melancholie"

*****

One of the finest Schumann recitals I have heard" 20th July 2008

There are a great many great recordings of some of the music on this disc. In the case of the wonderful Opus 39 cycle, which forms the heart of this record, there have been performances by such great names as Matthias Goerne, Ian Bostridge and Kate Royal (in collaboration with Graham Johnson on his excellent Hyperion series), so this new CD is entering a crowded marketplace. However, do not let the big names sway you before you consider buying this. Goerne's tone can at times be reedy and not entirely pleasant, and anyone who has read any of my other reviews will know of my intense allergy to Bostridge. Yes, the man has a pleasant, light tenor voice, but his interpretation seems hysterical, neurotic at times, and I can bear no more than about 5 minutes of his disc which combines "Dichterliebe" with Opus 39. In the case of Johnson, I must admit I have enormous admiration for his projects, but his playing rarely gains my affection - it can seem at times almost a little clinical for my tastes.

So what does Christain Gerhaher have to offer? He is a young man (and a trained doctor, should you ever fall ill at one of his concerts) who has released some very well received discs, but he has not achieved anything like the superstar status of his contemporary Goerne. His voice is a classic baritone: expressive, controlled and capable of dramatic excursions into high registers without any hint of roughness or effort, and warm enough at the lower end to drive the grittier lines in Schumann's writing. But above all it is a voice that is hugely enjoyable just to listen to, and through which to experience wonderful music.

And that is where the success of this disc lies: Opus 39 is for me a unique achievement in Schumann's output in that it is so distinctly different from all his other cycles. Even on a disc with as restrictive a title as "Melancholie", Opus 39 seems to glow with the calm reflectiveness that characterises so much of Eichendorff's poetry. Where Heine (whose poetry supplied "Dichterliebe" and Opus 24) is full of sardonic, ironic and bitter energy, Eichendorff prefers to find redemption in solitude. That is not to say he is all sweetness and light, though: the final line of "Auf einer Burg" is heartbreaking, nothing less.

I have written a lot about Opus 39, but for me the joy of this disc was finding new works that I otherwise overlook. Gerhaher takes some small sets in complete form, and makes "melancholic" selections from others, and the contrast with Opus 39 is striking. The opening song could almost be by Wolf, and Schumann's remarkable range is demonstrated in his settings of poems by poets as great and diverse as Goethe and Chamisso. In fact, I can think of few other discs where the line-up of poets is as formidable as this!

Unfortunately, there is one small drawback which should be considered, or at least allowed for when you buy this disc, especially considering the quality and power of the poetry contained within. The texts are provided, but without translations of any kind, so, unless you are an avid reader of German romantic lyrics (and I must admit that I do fall into that category), you may want to use the excellent Lied and Art Songs page to find good translations. However, this is only a minor disappointment when taken into consideration against the achievements of this CD. Gerhaher has brought wonderful repertoire to life in a considered, powerful and intensely musical way, employing his outstanding voice to great effect. I know I will be enjoying this disc for many years to come.

Monday 9 June 2008

Julie Otsuka: When the Emperor Was Divine

****
Captivating 9th June, 2008

This is Julie Otsuka's first novel, and it draws on her heritage as an American of Japanese descent, exploring the experience of a Japanese family during the Second World War, when thousands of Americans with connections to Japan were internet, and families separated from one another. There is no suggestion that this work is autobiographical, and there is a long list of credits at the back citing other works of reference from which Otsuka has drawn her material. However, that should not be taken as to imply that the novel is merely derivative: it is a beautiful and deeply engaging narrative, told with imagination.

The story is told by four different voices, one for each of the chapters of the novel, and one for each of the members of the family. The opening chapter, in which the mother takes her leave of the family home, and must dispose of its contents as best she can, is deeply moving and tenderly evoked. Similarly effective is the depiction of the train journey, told by the daughter. The bulk of the novel, at least in terms of pages, is given to the son, who relates the family's stay in an internment camp in the middle of the desert, where dust coats every surface and people are shot for reaching through the barbed wire to touch a beautiful flower. The final chapter, and the briefest of the (already slim) novel, is allocated to the father, and is a striking, even strident piece of writing, whose tone shatters the peace of the rest of the book. Technically it is a demanding challenge, and I am not sure Otsuka quite achieves it fully, but it is memorable in many ways.

Where this novel shines is in its material and its sense of distance. On the one hand it reminds us that the War, which so often is depicted as a simple struggle between good and evil, required moral compromises on the part of the Allies that cannot simply be put down to expediency, but might perhaps reflect a darker undertone to the societies which committed them. Moreover, it is interesting to reflect on this as a counterpart to the fascinating "Letters from Iwo Jima", which again goes some way to redressing the balance in terms of who narrates and controls our memory of this extraordinary period.

So why four, and not five stars? The books qualities are many, and the technical device of four different narrators is hugely impressive. The writing is often first-rate, and avoids sentimentality with admirable success. However, I was left feeling a little short-changed at the end, given the book's enormous promise in the first chapter. It is certain that the balance is not quite right: I have never entirely been convinced by wide-eyed children as narrators of novels, as I feel a little pressured to make an implied moral judgement, which I do not like at all.

However, I would gladly press this book into anyone's hand and recommend that they read it, not because it is the greatest novel they will ever read, but because it does give great pleasure to read and later to reflect on, and that, I suppose, is why we pick up books in the first place.

Friday 30 May 2008

Pentax K200D 18-55mm Lens Kit

*****
Excellent Alternative to the Usual Canon and Nikon Suspects
30th May 2008


This is Pentax's second "entry level" digital SLR camera, following their very successful K100d, and it is entering a very crowded marketplace. In fact, many people who wish to graduate from "point and shoot" cameras will never even get as far as the K200d, such is the dominance of other models by Canon, Nikon and Sony. However, by ignoring this excellent camera, they are missing out on a trick.

So what is it that the Pentax does that, for example, the Sony A350, Nikon D60 and Canon 450i don't do? Well, for a start, it might be worth explaining that it in many ways it does exactly the same as those three big name models. It takes excellent pictures, offering rich, strong colours and it copes pretty well with even quite low-light situations. It offers a range of preset modes, which fiddle with a whole range of settings to help out novices users, and it offers the standard range of Av, Tv, P and M modes for more flexibility. It comes with a standard kit lens of 18-55mm, which allows for a pretty broad wide-angle shot (though by no means a true fish-eye) through to about 4x apparent magnification of the subject. The 50-200mm lens is a worthwhile addition, and performs very well in a range of situations. The camera is relatively small (compared to semi-pro and professional DSLRs), but boasts a large, bright screen and yet isn't too cluttered with buttons.

So what makes it special? Why did I spend my money on this, and not a Sony (for its live view), an Olympus (for its small size) or a Nikon (for the ability to borrow my mate's amazing collection of lenses)? Well, there were a number of reasons:
- The feel: I have quite large hands (I'm 6'5") and found the Olympus and Canon to be very uncomfortable when I tried it in a shop. It fits well in my hand, and, while heavier than the competition, I only began to tire after a whole day of using it (about 500 shots).
- The viewfinder: the viewfinder is bright and clear, and I find it very comfortable to use. The viewfinder on the Sony, in contrast, was far too small for me because of the extra live-view sensor they have crammed in next to the pentaprism.
- The weatherproofing: unlike any of its competitors the camera is splash- and dust-proof, which, allied to the anti-dust system in the body, makes it a very attractive package.
- The system: Pentax are an old firm with an outstanding reputation in the world of optics and imaging, and their digital SLRs are all designed so that virtually any lens (from about the 1950s onwards) can be used with their cameras. This is in stark contrast to Nikon's decision to take the auto-focus motor out of the D60, which severely limits the range of lenses available which can auto-focus. One of Pentax's specialities is its very compact prime lenses, and I cannot wait to get my hands on the 70mm 2.4 limited, which looks simply stunning for portrait photography.
- The power: the Pentax uses AA batteries, which many Nikon and Canon users scoff at, believing it impossible that ordinary batteries will last more than a dozen or so shots. In one day's shooting of about 500 frames, including a fair few with flash, the lithium batteries which are supplied in the box did not even register on the power display. With high-quality 2500 or 2700 mAh rechargables you can expect about 6-700 shots, which is as good as any proprietary battery in a Sony, Canon or Nikon. Moreover, I know that, should my batteries run out, I can pop into any shop and get enough power to keep going for the rest of the day: a luxury which is denied to other brands.
- Being different! You see Canons and Nikons everywhere you look (there are over 30 million photos taken using a 450i on Flickr), but Pentax is something else, and I really value that.

This really is an excellent camera, and I would urge you strongly to consider it if you're looking at a digital SLR. That isn't to say it doesn't have its drawbacks, but none is a deal-breaker for me. True, it isn't as simple to use as the Nikon D60, and it doesn't have the high resolution of the Canon or its enormous screen. It is aimed at people who want to take photographs properly, and it takes some learning to get the best out of it. However, with patience you will have a tool that is flexible, powerful and very satisfying to use.

I am, I suppose, proud to say: I'm a Pentaxian!