The German Dorrit Bauerecker is a dedicated new music performer, dividing her attention evenly between accordion, piano and toy piano. On this album she regularly breaks genre boundaries, combining art music and popular music as a matter of course. Over the years she also developed an interest in music theatre, often working together with Manos Tsangaris, the present co-director of the renowned Munich Biennale.
Bauerecker's concept album Inner Cities features contemporary music from three different generations and countries. The CD takes its name from a cycle of 14 piano pieces the American composer Alvin Curran wrote between 1991 and 2013. Three of them form the heart of the disc, taking up half of its playing time. Curran's pieces are surrounded by compositions for accordion which respond to them in one way or another. These were written by Manos Tsangaris (1956) and Simon Rummel (1978) from Germany, and the Belarusian Oxana Omelchuk (1975).
Inner Cities is a sort of musical autobiography, drawing on real or imagined memories. In Curran's own words: ‘Inner Cities are where you go to get debriefed, to hear Brubeck fill a Newport stadium unamplified; to watch Cage and Braxton play chess in Washington Square Park; to give an impromptu ram's-horn concert for Palestinian shopkeepers’, or ‘to ride with a New York cabbie nuts about Gubaidulina’. The composer warns us there is no ‘drive-by’, yet acknowledges that each piece ‘starts with a single idea, chord, or cellular pattern, which serves as its own source of narrative and history’.
Lasting some 25 minutes, Inner Cities 9 is the longest and most captivating work on this CD. It was composed in 2001 for the Dutch pianist Reinier van Houdt, and references Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The typical three-note-motif of its opening E-major chord is delicately played ‘upside down’ in a high register, using a lot of pedal. After several variations, the dreamy atmosphere is abruptly shattered by loud banging in the bass register. Dark, aggressively repeated chords creep in, but once they seem to take over entirely, the music suddenly shifts back to the sweet lyricism of before. Curran repeats this procedure several times, only once presenting the original Beethoven motif. The piece ends with a walking-bass theme that slowly fades into silence.
Quite different is the gay tinkling in Inner Cities 3 for toy piano. With its quickly repeated patterns this has a minimalist vein, yet it is interspersed with non-repetitive passages in which the music slows down considerably. In the end an innocent melody pops up that makes the toy piano sound like a music-box. Inner Cities 5 sets off in the pointillist style that was popular among Darmstadt composers in the sixties and seventies. But gradually the sparse notes seemingly lost in mid-air clot together and evolve into frantic hammering. The fearless Bauerecker digs deep into the keys, creating fierce havoc, leaving us gasping for breath.
Her sheer pleasure in Omelchuk's at times hilarious 5 Widmungen an die verborgenen Empfänger (5 Dedications to the Hidden Receivers) for accordion and tape is almost tangible. With infectious gusto she takes us on an exciting trip along bustling fairgrounds, folk-like rhythms and jittery electronics. The halting pauses in ‘Widmung 2’ evoke the gait of a jolly drunk, who, pint in hand, just barely manages to stop himself from keeling over. It's a compelling piece, and one can't help guessing who the hidden receivers of these five miniatures might be.
Highly contrasting with Omelchuk's jaunty piece is Simon Rummel's introverted Melodiestudie (Melody Study) for accordion and sinus tones. Like Curran, Rummel takes a simple theme as his starting point. Over some 13 minutes he develops a deeply moving, wistful melody crafted from single tones. The atmosphere is hushed and searching, as if each note is expectantly waiting for what comes next. The spiky sound of the accordion is remarkably similar to the pure sinus tones, often making it hard to tell whether what we hear is produced electronically or live.
Strewn across the CD are the seven miniatures of Viscum Album Tsangaris composed for Bauerecker. It is inspired by the white mistletoe, a semi-parasite that lives off the trees on which it grows, damaging but not entirely killing them. In olden days it was attributed miraculous powers and in German myth it was considered to be a gift of God. The composer takes us through a plethora of atmospheres and sound colours, from melancholically drawn-out chords and virtuoso arpeggiation to ominous grunting and buoyant trills. In Viscum Album II Bauerecker theatrically recites the names of various kinds of mistletoe, such as ‘Knisterholz’ and ‘Vogelmistel’. The unusual words create an incantatory and at the same time humorous effect. Yet, for all its diversity this is the least convincing work on the CD; the musical events seem to take place in a rather haphazard way.
This debut release perfectly showcases Bauerecker's talent for pairing solid workmanship to expressive presentation. She brings across every subtle nuance and emotion, from deceptively seductive murmurings and barely audible whisperings to light-hearted irony and relentless fury. The composers could hardly wish for a more dedicated interpreter, and the natural feel of the recording makes one long to hear Bauerecker perform live. Undoubtedly this will be an exhilarating experience.
