How good of Matthew McCright to champion the music of German-born composer Gene Gutchë who learned his craft in Iowa and Minnesota then stayed on in the United States. The result is a frequently fascinating soundscape that has no qualms about acknowledging the past while trying to find a singular voice. By employing forms that have many magnificent examples already in the literature, the music cannot help but beg comparison.
The most extended work of the CD, Theme and Variations, reveals much of Gutchë’s ideas, craft and methodology. The theme readily declares its romantic roots—with just a touch of Americana slipping into the mix—and features readily identifiable repeated-note soundposts (and a long-lost 4-3 suspension) to aid the ear as the variations unfold.
The first is filled with jolly grace notes where just a touch more weight on their goal by McCright would secure the intended direction. That is followed by a dreamy look at the material and a wonderfully delicate closing section. Brahms is never far from the punchy conversation of the third variant only to be balanced with a compelling “hesitato” and a brief knock at the door of jazz. The ensuing variations are more informed by angst and agitato. The frequent stop-start iterations lessen the effect of the overall flow, even as Chopin’s funeral hue brings the mood into the realm of deep gloom, given respite by a pair closing cadences that promise hope with their major resolutions. The variation prior to the closing fugue—once it slips the noose of Beethoven’s prophetic trek in the “Eroica” symphony—finally manages to owe nothing but to itself as McCright masterfully controls the increasingly dramatic landscape with dark pedals and a right hand that tries to escape the sombre canvas. The fugue has a calm, thoughtful subject that is well voiced by composer and pianist alike. The generous helpings of dissonance add to the growing despair before a child-like, largely upper register episode attempts to brighten and lighten the ponderous load. Alas, darkness again prevails—even to the point, after an extended “working out” of a singular line, where the lines feel somewhat lost—only to be rescued by the Volga boatmen progression that drops its anchor unabashedly into positive sunshine.
The two Fugues that follow continue the survey of musical history. The C Minor is notable for its French (à la Ibert) intonation and rhapsodic flourishes that would be hard to imagine without Bach’s Toccata and Fugues. Once again McCright proves an able proponent but a smidgeon more steadiness would help improve the elusive component of inevitability. A most welcome triple feel permeates the Utilitarian which is superbly rendered—replete with fascinating excursions, effective use of repeated notes and a bit of sassiness that speaks volumes to the creator’s personality.
The collection is rounded out by a pair of Sonatas most certainly cut from the same compositional/structural cloth. Put simplistically, the form has a dry (with some contrast), first movement; a more reflective middle frame then a return to the first with some extensions and a tad more fire. Themes are generally accompanied by repeated snippets many of whom can trace their lineage to Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. No. 1’s excitement can’t help but evoke memories of Prokofiev’s edgy Toccata, Op. 11. Perhaps the most interesting movement of all can be found in the second movement of Op. 2. Here is a veritable Nachtmusik, beautifully coloured by McCright, complete with tolling bells, glinting stars, mocking dissonance and an overall aura that would not be out of place as the soundtrack for a ‘60s detective show.
Readily accessible to all, here’s a disk that will add depth and novelty to any collection. JWR