Maya Fridman & North Netherlands Symphony Orchestra: De Graaff: The Forest in April
TRPTK

Only months ago, cellist Maya Fridman (b. 1989) impressed with Ten Songs of Change, her collaborative release with pianist Marion von Tilzer. That imaginative set found the two exploring the I Ching and augmenting their playing with poetry recitation by Lei Qiu. Now adding to Fridman's auspicious 2021 accomplishments is her TRPTK follow-up, this one a larger-scale affair featuring the cellist and the North Netherlands Symphony Orchestra performing two concertos by Dutch composer Jan-Peter de Graaff (b. 1992). Personnel is the same for both performances, which were recorded in Groningen during 2021, but for one difference: Sander Teepen conducts the fourth concerto and Nicolò Foron the fifth.

De Graaff wrote the fourth, “Rimpelingen,” in 2017 for cellist Hans Woudenberg on the occasion of his departure from Asko|Schönberg. In addition to presenting her own interpretation of the work, Fridman performs de Graaff's fifth concerto, “The Forest in April.” Though only the latter was composed for the cellist, she imprints both with such an indelible personal stamp one would presume they both were if not apprised otherwise. The material clearly shows de Graaff is neither minimalist, serialist, nor traditionalist. His music develops organically and in its aggressive passages exudes elemental power; yet while there are moments where the music convulses with tectonic force, there are others characterized by stillness. In often drawing for inspiration from nature, the composer has more in common with figures such as Sibelius and Kaija Saariaho than Schoenberg, though de Graaff isn't averse to embracing consonance and dissonance in his writing.

A note by him offers a helpful way into the fourth concerto's world, with de Graaff having stated that the character of its writing was inspired by “pebbles crunching on the water,” the subsequent ripples that appear on the surface, and the activity taking place below. Of the two works, “Rimpelingen” is rather more intimate, an impression due in part to the reduced scale of the orchestra. It's in five movements, but three are a mere minute each in length, making the second and fourth parts dominant. After the pensive “(Prelude),” “Passacaglia” gradually swells into a full state of being as fragments voiced by piano, horns, woodwinds, percussion, and strings bring the larger scene into focus. Adopting the role of explorer, Fridman glides gracefully across the shimmering foundation with vibrato-rich bowing and expressive flourishes. The music advances through ponderous episodes and others of a more eruptive kind. Naturally animated, the “Scherzo” sees Fridman's elongated patterns and rapid plucks paired with a restless orchestral mass that surges with rabid intent, after which the subdued “(Postlude)” eases the work into silence.

Again comments by the composer bring clarity to an appreciation of the fifth concerto, with de Graaff this time likening the relationship between soloist and orchestra to one between humanity and nature. In his words, “the orchestra slowly mutates into a monstrosity that collapses under its own weight,” and the work concludes with a “Requiem” “in which the orchestra blows itself up, as it were.” Before those events arrive, however, the three-part, half-hour piece begins with a luminous, impressionistic evocation of the nature setting and an intense dialogue between Fridman and the orchestra. Though a sense of struggle emerges between them, “The Forest” concludes peacefully with the cellist wordlessly vocalizing amidst the hushed timbres of the ensemble. The central movement, “The Echo Chamber,” opens with a bravura unaccompanied solo from Fridman, beyond which a fierce battle of sorts is waged between her and the orchestra, each at separate poles and engaging combatively with one another. While de Graaff is his own man, certainly, the writing at the end of the movement is marked by the hint of a Louis Andriessen influence. “Requiem” presents a comparatively subdued soundworld whose desolation is amplified by the lonely cry of the cello. Interestingly, the instrumental forces are larger for the fifth concerto, yet de Graaff smartly exercises restraint in the arrangement in ensuring the soloist isn't overwhelmed by the orchestra.

January 2022