Héloïse Werner: close-ups

The programme here echoes that of Werner’s Wigmore Hall concert last April (review), and holds the Hidegard O vis as constant; sadly, I had to miss out on Werner and fiends at King’s Place last Friday due to a seasonal cold, so this goes some way to redress the situation (in my mind, at least!). This post also follows on from Werner’s first album, Phrases.

Here’s the promo video for close-ups:

Th amazing, ancient sounds of Barbara Strozzi opens the disc, Che si può farè. It is one of Strozzi’s better-known piecess, and is from her Op. 8 Arie (Venice, Francisco Magni, 1664). It also characterises a core aspect of the album: that the ancient can sound modern, and the modern, ancient. There is a sort of natural arc, but it is a personal one, and not just for Werner: the listener to an extent chooses they own. The album is also about “people, and about being able to witness one another”:

For a full disc, incidentally, of Strozzi, try mezzo Renata Dubinskaite’s release on Brilliant Classics (which also includes this song):

The three “echoes” are impovisations, often linked to the piece immediately heard previously, an opportunity to re-examine, to part-quote, even to mock

Werner’s own Les Leçons du mardi is a damning take on the infamous Tuedsay lectures at Paris’ Salpêtre hospital, where institutionalised, “hysterical” women wee forced to act out their symptoms as public spectacle. Here, though, it is the woman that is in close-up, who has the power. The piece works beautifully, chugging, restless musical fragments obsessively repeated.

How specacularly the dissection of a damaged mind resonates long in the memory; it segues into Julie Pinel’s Sombres lieux (Serious places) from Nouveau recueil d’airs sérieux et à boire: the arrangement is by Marianne Schofield and dates from 1991. The opening is almost related to Echo I, though: the surprise comes when it coalesces into something ancient at the voice’s entry. The “melancholic yearning” (Megan Stlll, from her excellent notes) is emphasised, and sometimes undermined, by music from a more recent time. The low/non-vibrato delivery effected by Werner is perfect. Werner’s account cn be found in the streaming links below; here’s a more standard version, for comparison:

Hildegard of Bingen’s music is truly eternal: a drone here (cello, Colin Alexander) hangs in the air against Werner’s twisting, endless lines in the responsory, O vis eternitatis. The way the music “bends” is remarkable; it is as if Werner sings in a cathedral (although the recording itself is not that resonant)

Close-ups is so perfectly of Werner, an encyclopaedia of her strengths Scored only for soprano and solo violin, (Max Baillie), her piece of that name is a latter-day equivalent of Cathy Berberian’s Stripsody:

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Errollyn Wallen’s Tree foregrounds voice and pizzicato cello . It is juxtaposed with Werner’s close-ups here (I’m afraid it doesn’t move me quite so much); the response is increasing (Echo III) – a sort of discombobulated space.

Two pieces by Werner close, both brief: Unspecified Intentions, which appeared on Phrases, but is here arranged fro clarinet and voice (the strings improvise their reactions to the voice); it was recorded in on take to mimic live perfomance demands. The disc is is complemented by Lullaby for a Sister, inspired by Wallen.

The Lullaby for a Sister is incredibly melancholic, and in some ways is an echo of the opening Strozzi; it feels as if the disc has come full circle, and we could start listening again at the beginning. Perhaps we should! The Lullaby ends on an incomplete, expectant note ….

Another phenomenal release from Héloīse Werner. close-ups is available at Amazon here. iDagio here. The Strozzi on Brilliant Classics is available at Amazon here, albeit at a rather high price of £23.73.