Phillip T Young Recital Hall
July 25, 2006
Once upon a time, most orchestral conductors were aware that the sound of an orchestra rests upon its foundation: the double basses. Consider the story of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra on tour with conductor Wilhelm Furtwängler: for one particular concert they fielded ten double basses for the opening work - Bach's Third Brandenburg Concerto - but resumed after the interval with just the nine Furtwängler considered necessary for the programme's other work - Bruckner's 9th symphony.
One can only wonder what Furtwängler might have made of the sound of 22 basses playing Bach, the now-traditional opening salvo of every Basses Loaded! - although I think that the actual count of 22 is a BL record.
You can tell those audience members who have never attended before by the look of surprise on their faces at the opening of the concert, as Gary Karr and Harmon Lewis took to the stage and the other bassists arranged themselves around the auditorium.
The feeling of actually being inside an enormous instrument is a familiar one to BL regulars, although none the less welcome for all that. I did notice that this year the intonation seemed more accurate than has sometimes been the case.
The ensemble pieces which followed certainly covered a great deal of territory. I greatly enjoyed Victoria composer Arne Sahlen's Prelude, originally for piano, with its antiphonal pizzicatos; Sahlen seemed to be channelling Bach in much the same way that Villa-Lobos once did.
It is probably a good thing, from the point of view of the average copy-editor, that Johann Joseph Fux never became a household name. Music critics who have need to reference him have learned to type his name very carefully.
Fux's Trio Sonata in a minor consists - of course - of a slow movement framed by two quicker ones. While the outer movements were fairly formulaic ("jolly, mindless 18th centuryness" I scribbled in my notebook) the larghetto was something quite different, with a fine melody and an emotional depth missing elsewhere.
I can imagine few other ensembles closing this work with such a massively weighty final chord.
Two works by today's leading bass-playing composer, Gavin Bryars, followed. Silva Caledonia, originally composed for male chorus, was again remarkable for its subterranean bottom line. The Epilogue from Wonderlawn was composed for solo viola and accompaniment. Karr, of course, played the viola part with all the eloquence we have come to expect.
And, uniquely, these two pieces featured a conductor: BL stalwart Sarah Klein, making her debut as a stick-wielder and very competently too.
Perhaps Bryars can be persuaded at some point to write something specifically for bass ensemble. That would be something to look forward to.
Some three years ago Daniel Nix was part of the Basses Loaded! ensemble; for the last couple of years he has been studying at the University of Victoria with Mary Rannie - Victoria Symphony principal bassist and a member of this year's BL group.
Nix's remarkable talent was on display as he appeared as "Special Guest" with Karr and Lewis in a stunning performance of Bottesini's Passione Amorose.
The piece alternates between jaw-dropping virtuosity from the two bassists - bringing to mind one contemporary's description of Bottesini's own playing: "he bewildered us by playing all sorts of melodies in flute-like harmonies, as though he had a hundred nightingales caged in his double-bass" - romantic, almost saccharine lyrical passages, and interjections from the piano which sounded like the soundtrack to a bad silent movie - one could almost see the train approaching the heroine tied to the tracks.
It did seem, though, that a sizable proportion of the audience, despite every possible facial encouragement from the players, did not quite feel at liberty even to chuckle out loud, far less laugh. Perhaps it was the heat.
After the interval, we had three pieces played by the Karr-Lewis Duo. Schumann's Three Romances, Op.94 may not be major Schumann, but you'd never have known it from the Tuesday's performance, which was impassioned and as Romantic as the composer could have wished.
And surely only a duo with three-and-a-half decades of playing together could achieve such immaculate rubato with nary a single moment's eye contact.
Although Karr & Lewis may be better-known for the more lighthearted items in their repertoire, you will go a long way before you hear Schumann played better than - or indeed, as well as - this.
Donizetti's Concertino was a very jolly work and Carl Böhm's Perpetuo mobile very silly. Both were great fun and both, naturally, dispatched with finesse and panâche.
Finally came a group of three shorter pieces played once more by the entire ensemble. Albert Wolfermann's Gavotte lived up to its name (in fact, without looking at the programme, I had already been reminded of similar movements in the music of Bach and others).
As for Lila Horovitz's Tango Grave, well I'm not sure what language the title is in and consequently do not know whether it's intended simply as a serious tango or as a funerary one. Either way, it sounded somewhat like a lumbering version of Astor Piazzolla - and you can't get more authentically tangoan (tangoesque?) than that.
During the tango, the real stars of the show - the Karr & Lewis dogs Shinju (looking every inch the canine elder statesman) and Shasta - appeared, to the delight of the regulars.
Hans Pieter Nielsen's Skovtrolden (I can find no on-line translation of this into English) sounded like a group of dancing trolls - until the various players apparently tired of it and - shades of Haydn's "Farewell" - started to leave the stage in ones and twos. This did raise a laugh.
Who would have imagined that it would be possible to give an annual concert featuring masses basses and yet not run out of repertoire after a decade? Long may Basses Loaded! continue.
Last modified: Wed Jul 26 20:18:58 PDT 2006