Classical calm: "I’d always admired Salina Fisher’s music, but Kintsugi was the first work of hers I truly loved." Photo / Supplied
The contributors to our Songs of the Week music survey of new releases are each picking a selection of the tunes that helped make their 2023 a better place. Here’s the choices of classical specialist Richard Betts.
Handily, Spotify tells me that other than music I listened to forwork purposes, these were the pieces I played most in 2023. Thanks to all the composers and performers who got me through the year.
Arensky: Piano Trio No.1
I heard NZTrio perform this at Q Theatre’s Loft in 2019 and it has formed a regular part of my listening ever since. Partly that’s because it’s a beautiful piece of late-Romantic chamber music, but it’s also because it reminds me of a single note played by violinist Amalia Hall. The music was written in memory of the composer’s late friend, the cellist Karl Davidov, but the violin leads the opening 50 seconds before the cello takes over. At this point, at this concert, at this small Auckland venue, something special happened. Fractionally before passing the theme to cellist Ashley Brown, Hall played a note of such hushed anguish that momentarily we felt Arensky’s hollow ache for his dead friend. These are the small flashes of transcendence that stay with you forever. One-offs, unrepeatable, perfect.
Rodrigo: Concierto de Aranjuez
I’ve known Rodrigo’s most famous work inside out since I was a child, but this recording from the early 1990s, with flamenco legend Paco de Lucia on guitar, made me listen anew. By current standards it’s imperfect, a bit sloppy, but de Lucia brings a gypsy sensibility and rhythmic vitality that even the best classical guitarists miss.
Saint-Saëns: Africa
I’m a sucker for preposterous music, and it doesn’t get much more preposterous than Saint-Saëns’ fantasia for piano and orchestra. Unlike most 19th century Europeans who wrote about Africa, Saint-Saëns had spent time in the north of the continent, and composed this piece while he was in Egypt and Algeria. There are several recordings, but this one with Stephen Hough and the CBSO absolutely sparkles.
Things I love about this song from Monteverdi’s Eighth Book of Madrigals: it sounds ancient and modern at the same time; the instrumental and vocal accompaniment are strictly rhythmical while the soprano floats above, untethered; it aches. By heavens, it aches.
Salina Fisher: Kintsugi
I’d always admired Salina Fisher’s music, but Kintsugi was the first work of hers I truly loved. Kintsugi is the Japanese art of reassembling broken pottery in a way that celebrates the flaws – finding beauty in the cracks, as Fisher put it. Early in the year I wrote a story proclaiming her our most important living composer. A few people called me out on that, including Fisher herself. I just pointed them to this piece.