Bells on Sand probably wouldn’t have meant much to me had it been released five years ago. Gerald Clayton’s spare song cycle might have struck me as overly fragile. Yet my sonic world expanded during the pandemic. In addition to developing a taste for drones and noise, I grasped the previously elusive appeal of European composers such as Frédéric Chopin, Claude Debussy and Maurice Ravel. Clayton’s sensitive interpretations of Federico Mompou’s compositions- the second and third tracks on Bells On Sand- set the contemplative tone for Clayton’s new album for Blue Note Records. I’d been only vaguely familiar with the Spanish composer through recordings by the likes of pianist Daniil Trifinov. Some may call me soft, but I’m pleased with my enhanced sensibility.
Concert Review: Joshua Bell and Alessio Bax at Helzberg Hall
Original image by There Stands the Glass.
The reacclimation process will be more difficult than anticipated. Less than two weeks after I posted an essay about how the sonic flaws common to classical recordings make the music more approachable, related forms of distraction irritated me at the first ticketed classical concert I attended in 2021.
A variety of sonic and visual static diminished a distressingly brief and acutely hushed recital by Joshua Bell and Alessio Bax at the Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts on Saturday, October 2. The concert opened the 2021-22 season of the Harriman-Jewell Series Series.
Much of the audience of about 500 was obligated to contend with the desperate flailing of a large man in the second row of Helzberg Hall during the 65-minute performance. Clearly experiencing extreme physical discomfort, he frantically fanned himself with a program. I was genuinely concerned for his welfare.
A phone alarm sounded between the first and second movements of Maurice Ravel’s Violin Sonata No. 2. An ill-timed cough marred an interpretation of a Giacomo Puccini aria. And a man near me was compelled to accompany the musicians by eliciting a remarkable range of creaks from his wobbly seat.
My noisy neighbor may have been inspired by Bell. Edvard Grieg’s Violin Sonata No. 3, the dramatic opening piece, allowed the star to explore multiple facets of the violin. While I felt no affinity for the composition, Bell’s ballyhooed technical faculties were astonishing.
A rendition of Ernest Bloch’s earthy “Nigun” was more interesting, but the twists and turns of the Ravel sonata were a revelation. Having never heard the jazz-tinged piece, the dissonance- punctuated by Bell’s occasional gasps- shocked me. It was precisely the kind of noise I’m eager to embrace.