- Thread Author
- #1
<p>I think I’m in love.</p>
<p>The object of my affection is, well, an object. A simple CD-Book, but one executed with such taste and care that there is pleasure simply in holding it, thumbing through its pages, discovering the images within and reading its brief but insightful essays—one from the artist, one from the composer’s biographer.</p>
<p>What is this object? <em>Volodos Plays Mompou</em> (Sony Classical 88765433262; 2013). Did I mention that the performances are superb? Probably should have said that first. Frederic Mompou (1893–1987) was a Catalan composer, a recluse and a mystic, chiefly remembered today for his exquisite piano miniatures. It is these, especially the important series <em>Musica Callada,</em> that Arcadi Volodos addresses in this recital. Besides executing them with rare vision, Volodos has sequenced individual works so that you can listen to the entire 63-minute album as an organic whole, if you wish. The engineering achieves an equally high standard. Here is a sample:</p>
<p class="audioplayer_container"><span class="c2" id="audioplayer_1">Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version <a href="http://www.adobe.com/shockwave/download/download.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash&promoid=BIOW" title="Download Adobe Flash Player">here</a>. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.</span></p>
<p>But let’s get back to the CD-Book! Why can’t all compact discs come in a package this attractive <em>and</em> useful? Volodos’ own essay avoids the vapid prose so common in performers’ liner-note contributions. For once it’s truly personal, giving us the story of how he came to know this music and the man behind it, and then distilling the essence of the musical experience itself:</p>
<blockquote readability="9">
<p><em>These short pieces are like frozen instants where time and space melt into one another. Here, there is neither contrast nor conflict; but thanks to the deliberately chosen modest resources, the music rises to an altitude where the listener has the impression of living outside time for a moment.</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p>An essay by Adolf Pla, “Frederic Mompou: Consciousness and Essence,” fills out the composer’s biographical data and artistic philosophy, connecting Mompou with ancient Mediterranean cultures, with early-20th-century artistic currents, and finally with holy minimalists like Tavener and Pärt. Images reproduced from Pla’s book draw heavily on the work of <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=antoni+gaudi&espv=210&es_sm=122&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=CC6nUsuZFpLesASarYGYDA&ved=0CAkQ_AUoAQ&biw=1600&bih=774" target="_blank">Antoni Gaudi</a>, the Catalan architect whose modernist aesthetic and incorporation of artisan ceramics, stained glass, and more became a crucial factor in Barcelona design. These are leavened with photos of Mompou, his family and friends, and just one of Volodos at Teldex, recording the album. Like the Mompou pictures, it’s given the sepia treatment, making it intimate, already part of memory and history.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.pstracks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/volodos.jpg"><img class="alignright size-medium wp-image-12653" alt="volodos 300x297 In Praise of the Package" src="http://www.pstracks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/volodos-300x297.jpg" width="300" height="297" title="In Praise of the Package"/></a></p>
<p>The best part—almost—is the feel of the book itself. You have undoubtedly picked up a hardcover volume at your local bookseller’s in the last couple of years and, fingering the jacket, encountered what I am about to describe badly. It’s coated paper, I guess, but it’s not slick. It’s not satin-y. It has more of a tactile “grip” than calfskin.</p>
<p>What is this called?</p>
<p>If every CD came in a book this nice, we wouldn’t be discussing downloads in every audiophile forum you can think of. We wouldn’t be exchanging views about hard-drive capacity, NAS, asynchronous USB, bit rates and sampling frequencies, <em>et al.</em> with such urgency. We would, instead, continue to fill our shelves (and overload the supporting timbers of our floors) with endless piles of magnificently designed Little Books with CDs tucked into them somewhere. (And tucked away in our NAS, perhaps a download at something higher-res than Redbook!)</p>
<p>And so here is my brief ode to packaging, sorted into two categories: Little Books and Big Boxes. Maybe they’ll give you an idea for some nice gifts this year.</p>
<p><em>Little Books</em></p>
<p>A slowly increasing number of classical labels seem to be taking the CD-Book route. Music lovers are presumably drawn to the convenience of having liner notes, translations, and related artwork close at hand. Getting it all signature-bound into an attractive Little Book undoubtedly represents value added.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.pstracks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/britten.jpg"><img class="alignright size-medium wp-image-12655" alt="britten 300x277 In Praise of the Package" src="http://www.pstracks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/britten-300x277.jpg" width="300" height="277" title="In Praise of the Package"/></a></p>
<p>The best Little Book I’ve laid hands on recently is Paul McCreesh’s new Britten <em>War Requiem</em> (Signum SIGCD 340). It follows the general format established in his earlier recordings of the Berlioz <em>Requiem</em> and Mendelssohn’s <em>Elijah,</em> and it features some of the same performing forces. There are the Gabrieli Consort & Players, of course, venturing ever further afield from their legendary 17th-century Venetian haunts, and to extremely good effect. Once again McCreesh calls upon the Wroc
[Source: http://www.pstracks.com/classical_corner/praise-package/12606/]
<p>The object of my affection is, well, an object. A simple CD-Book, but one executed with such taste and care that there is pleasure simply in holding it, thumbing through its pages, discovering the images within and reading its brief but insightful essays—one from the artist, one from the composer’s biographer.</p>
<p>What is this object? <em>Volodos Plays Mompou</em> (Sony Classical 88765433262; 2013). Did I mention that the performances are superb? Probably should have said that first. Frederic Mompou (1893–1987) was a Catalan composer, a recluse and a mystic, chiefly remembered today for his exquisite piano miniatures. It is these, especially the important series <em>Musica Callada,</em> that Arcadi Volodos addresses in this recital. Besides executing them with rare vision, Volodos has sequenced individual works so that you can listen to the entire 63-minute album as an organic whole, if you wish. The engineering achieves an equally high standard. Here is a sample:</p>
<p class="audioplayer_container"><span class="c2" id="audioplayer_1">Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version <a href="http://www.adobe.com/shockwave/download/download.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash&promoid=BIOW" title="Download Adobe Flash Player">here</a>. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.</span></p>
<p>But let’s get back to the CD-Book! Why can’t all compact discs come in a package this attractive <em>and</em> useful? Volodos’ own essay avoids the vapid prose so common in performers’ liner-note contributions. For once it’s truly personal, giving us the story of how he came to know this music and the man behind it, and then distilling the essence of the musical experience itself:</p>
<blockquote readability="9">
<p><em>These short pieces are like frozen instants where time and space melt into one another. Here, there is neither contrast nor conflict; but thanks to the deliberately chosen modest resources, the music rises to an altitude where the listener has the impression of living outside time for a moment.</em></p>
</blockquote>
<p>An essay by Adolf Pla, “Frederic Mompou: Consciousness and Essence,” fills out the composer’s biographical data and artistic philosophy, connecting Mompou with ancient Mediterranean cultures, with early-20th-century artistic currents, and finally with holy minimalists like Tavener and Pärt. Images reproduced from Pla’s book draw heavily on the work of <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=antoni+gaudi&espv=210&es_sm=122&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=CC6nUsuZFpLesASarYGYDA&ved=0CAkQ_AUoAQ&biw=1600&bih=774" target="_blank">Antoni Gaudi</a>, the Catalan architect whose modernist aesthetic and incorporation of artisan ceramics, stained glass, and more became a crucial factor in Barcelona design. These are leavened with photos of Mompou, his family and friends, and just one of Volodos at Teldex, recording the album. Like the Mompou pictures, it’s given the sepia treatment, making it intimate, already part of memory and history.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.pstracks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/volodos.jpg"><img class="alignright size-medium wp-image-12653" alt="volodos 300x297 In Praise of the Package" src="http://www.pstracks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/volodos-300x297.jpg" width="300" height="297" title="In Praise of the Package"/></a></p>
<p>The best part—almost—is the feel of the book itself. You have undoubtedly picked up a hardcover volume at your local bookseller’s in the last couple of years and, fingering the jacket, encountered what I am about to describe badly. It’s coated paper, I guess, but it’s not slick. It’s not satin-y. It has more of a tactile “grip” than calfskin.</p>
<p>What is this called?</p>
<p>If every CD came in a book this nice, we wouldn’t be discussing downloads in every audiophile forum you can think of. We wouldn’t be exchanging views about hard-drive capacity, NAS, asynchronous USB, bit rates and sampling frequencies, <em>et al.</em> with such urgency. We would, instead, continue to fill our shelves (and overload the supporting timbers of our floors) with endless piles of magnificently designed Little Books with CDs tucked into them somewhere. (And tucked away in our NAS, perhaps a download at something higher-res than Redbook!)</p>
<p>And so here is my brief ode to packaging, sorted into two categories: Little Books and Big Boxes. Maybe they’ll give you an idea for some nice gifts this year.</p>
<p><em>Little Books</em></p>
<p>A slowly increasing number of classical labels seem to be taking the CD-Book route. Music lovers are presumably drawn to the convenience of having liner notes, translations, and related artwork close at hand. Getting it all signature-bound into an attractive Little Book undoubtedly represents value added.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.pstracks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/britten.jpg"><img class="alignright size-medium wp-image-12655" alt="britten 300x277 In Praise of the Package" src="http://www.pstracks.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/britten-300x277.jpg" width="300" height="277" title="In Praise of the Package"/></a></p>
<p>The best Little Book I’ve laid hands on recently is Paul McCreesh’s new Britten <em>War Requiem</em> (Signum SIGCD 340). It follows the general format established in his earlier recordings of the Berlioz <em>Requiem</em> and Mendelssohn’s <em>Elijah,</em> and it features some of the same performing forces. There are the Gabrieli Consort & Players, of course, venturing ever further afield from their legendary 17th-century Venetian haunts, and to extremely good effect. Once again McCreesh calls upon the Wroc
[Source: http://www.pstracks.com/classical_corner/praise-package/12606/]
