De l’espace trouver la fin et le milieu: Dan Barrett plays Dominique Lemaître

De l'espace trouver la fin et le milieu roughly translates as “From space find the end and the middle,” and consistent with that, the cover image shows an incredible nebulae in some distant galaxy. However, the five premiere recordings performed by cellist Dan Barrett of works by French composer Dominique Lemaître (b. 1953) give a slightly different meaning to the word. The forty-four-minute recording engenders an enhanced sensitivity to space, especially when perhaps the most salient aspect of the cellist's playing has to do with presence. Each moment invites focused attention, such that the listener experiences with him the piece as it develops. And with such a modicum of instruments in play—Barrett alone on two and joined on the rest by a single partner—a spacious quality is conspicuous in each performance.

Reinforcing such impressions are the distinguishing characteristics of Lemaître's music. Texture, shape, and sensuality are prominent, and it's possible to detect the influence of figures such as Claude Debussy, György Ligeti, Gérard Grisey, and Tristan Murail. Mystery and melody are present also, though the latter more emerges indirectly in the form of melodic contour than compact statement. Interplay of light and shadow, oscillation between consonance and dissonance, and focus on singular tone sequences also characterize the album's settings. It hardly surprises that a 2018 book about his music has the title À la recherche du temps suspendu (In Search of Suspended Time).

Cellist Stanislav Orlovsky joins Barrett on the opening Orange and yellow II (2013), a “stereophonic” duet whose title was inspired by a 1956 Mark Rothko painting. Originally written in 2009 for two violas, the transcription sees the cellos entwining for eight minutes, their intense interactions engrossing throughout. During one passage, ascending figures alternate with a recurring three-note theme, but the material, like much else on the recording, resists simple definition when it unfolds like a living organism. Titled after the Egyptian god of scribes, the subsequent Thot (1994) pairs Barrett with clarinetist Michiyo Suzuki, their methodical interplay as unpredictable and focused as the cellists. A meditative, at times querulous quality pervades the work as its shadowy stillness extends across six minutes.

Two pieces feature Barrett alone, the first Mnaïdra (1992) titled after a temple erected in the south of Malta Island during the Bronze Age and the second, 2018's Plus haut (Higher), exemplifying a shape consistent with the title's meaning. Mnaïdra is treated to a bravura rendering by the cellist, his playing captivating in its blend of drawn-out bowed notes and pizzicatos and with dynamics exploited resonantly. The minimal gestures and use of space alludes to a time long past and a physical presence that now exists as little more than a memory. Intensity builds slowly in Plus haut until the ascension-oriented material seems to hover comfortably in the air, Barrett punctuating the performance with aggressive figures and upward swoops.

Appearing in the penultimate position, Stances, hommage à Henri Dutilleux (2015) qualifies as the album's centrepiece, not just for its nearly fourteen-minute length but for the impression it makes; that Lemaître dedicated the cello-and-piano duet to Barrett, who met the composer for the first time at a 2015 summer festival in Lucca, Italy, makes it feel all the more special. The main honouree, however, is French composer Henri Dutilleux (1916-2013), who Lemaître got to know and wanted to pay homage to on the one-hundredth anniversary of his birth. Barrett and pianist Jed Distler bring to life this gripping chamber setting, whose sixteen adjoined sections are structurally grounded in three tempos and three pitch reservoirs that regularly alternate. Like the album's material in general, it's a ponderous, spectral, and texturally focused work that progresses without haste and in accordance with a logic natural to it.

In the release's packaging, Barrett expresses appreciation for his friendship with the composer but also notes that he shares Lemaître's “philosophies of craftsmanship, creation, and musicality.” Certainly evidence of all three is abundant throughout De l'espace trouver la fin et le milieu, the recording reflecting sensibilities and values common to performer and composer.

— Ron Schepper, 9.28.2020

As Terry Robbins says a little further on in these pages, “It’s been a simply terrific month for cello discs.” There are three that I scooped up for myself, beginning with De l’espace trouver la fin et le milieu: Dan Barrett plays Dominique Lemaître – solos and duos for/ with cello (New Focus Recordings fcr276 newfocusrecordings.com/catalogue). French composer Dominique Lemaître, born the same year as John Luther Adams (1953),

studied humanities and musicology at the University of Rouen and later electroacoustics and composition at the Paris Conservatoire. Infused with the music of Bach, Debussy, Varèse, Ligeti and Scelsi, but also with extra-European influences, Lemaître ‘s works blend super- imposed metres, polytextures, looped repetitions and an underlying modality. American cellist Dan Barrett, creator and director of the music ensemble International Street Cannibals (ISC), has been hailed as “a brilliant and driven cellist, composer, and conductor” (Huffington Post), whose instrumental playing is described as “fire and ice” (The New York Times).

The disc begins with the cello duo Orange and Yellow II, performed with Stanislav Orlovsky. It pays homage to Morton Feldman and is a transcription of a piece originally written for two violas in 2009. The title makes reference to the eponymous painting created by Mark Rothko, to whom Feldman himself paid homage in Rothko Chapel, composed for the meditation room of the building of the same name. Although purely acoustic in nature, the layering and looping of the two instruments, and the reverberant space in which it was recorded, give the impression of electronic enhancement. Thot, referring to the Egyptian god Thoth, is an earlier work dating from 1994. It is a duet with clarinetist Michiyo Suzuki that begins from silence with a grad- ually building clarinet tone reminiscent of the Abîme des oiseaux movement in Messiaen’s famous Quatuor pour le fin du temps. The contemplative mood continues throughout the six-minute work, intermittently interrupted by bird-like chirps. The next piece, Mnaïdra for solo cello, opens abruptly and almost abrasively, although it, too, gradually subsides into warmer tones. Mnajdra is a Bronze Age temple situated to the south of the island of Malta, the isle of bees or the isle of honey, as it was called in ancient times.

Pianist Jed Distler joins the cellist in Stances, hommage à Henri Dutilleux, the famous French composer from whom Lemaître received both encouragement and compliments. It was written in 2015 and is dedicated to Barrett. The disc ends with another solo cello composition, Plus haut (Higher), which, although still in a quiet way, is the most virtuosic piece of the collection. Barrett shows himself astute across the spectrum from the softest nuance to the soaring heights.

— David Olds, 10.15.2020

The New Focus Recordings label delivers American cellist Dan Barrett's newest project, highlighting the work of French composer Dominique Lemaitre. This will be the first time an American company has recorded anything focused on Lemaitre's music. The work of Dominique Lemaître, a fan of Claude Debussy's music, is full of inventiveness, sound, and feeling. Also inspired by composers such as Morton Feldman and Giacinto Scelsi, his work is characterized by singular sound sequences and adapts to quartets as well as to ensembles or orchestras.

— n/a, 10.12.2020

Of diverse inspiration, this new monographic CD by Dominique Lemaître brings together five pieces around the cello, played by Dan Barrett and joined, or not, by a second partner.

If the two solo pieces of the album are located more than twenty-five years apart (1992-2018), we nevertheless observe the same economy of means in the material and a vertical / harmonic dimension of the writing, this research in the spectrum of sound that Dominique Lemaître leads with obstinacy in his compositions. Mnaïdra, named after a Maltese temple, is the earliest work in the recording. Hieratic and contemplative, the music develops around a polar note, the B♭, and an interval, the semitone (or its reversal in the major seventh), gradually revealing the sound image of the first vision. It is that of the flight that founds the writing of Plus haut (2018), a fervent quest for light nourished by the resonance of pizziccati that Dan Barrett leads on his instrument, surveying the entire cello register on the steps of a scale. Was it necessary to push the reverberation / amplification of the sound to such a level, to the point of significantly modifying the acoustic qualities (grain and color) of the solo instrument?

On the duo side, it is from an obstinate rhythm that the rhythm of the two cellos is developed in Orange and yellow II, a transcription of the eponymous piece for two violas whose title is borrowed from the painter Rothko. Repetitive and incantatory as Lemaître's music readily is, the work exploits the canon-echo process between the two cellos, a phenomenon of double player and feline shadow magnified by the generous amplification that prevails throughout the album. Bringing together the cello and the clarinet (Michiyo Suzuki) in Thot (1994), Lemaître seeks the effects of textures between the two instruments: the clarinet interferes in the spectrum of the cello or, conversely, the cello is inscribed on the multiphonics of the clarinet, elaborating a material of a sensitive and delicate complexion.

Stances, a tribute to Henri Dutilleux written for the centenary of the departed master (2016) is the album's most endearing piece. In an interior and dreamy journey, the cello line evolves on the harmonic canvas of the piano, the two complementary instruments here keeping a certain autonomy. The cello explores the full scale of its register, venturing into the fragile and demoralized zone of high harmonics. Sixteen chained sections articulate this "in memoriam" inviting the listener to an immersive listening. Dan Barrett, who is the dedicatee, displays a large timbral range alongside Jed Distler's radiating piano.

-English translation via Google Translate; French original below:

D’inspiration diverse, ce nouveau CD monographique de Dominique Lemaître réunit cinq pièces autour du violoncelle, celui de Dan Barrett rejoint, ou non, par un second partenaire.

Si les deux pièces solistes de l’album se situent à plus de vingt-cinq ans de distance (1992-2018), on y observe pour autant la même économie de moyens dans le matériau et une dimension verticale/harmonique de l’écriture, cette recherche dans le spectre du son que mène avec obstination Dominique Lemaître dans ses compositions. Mnaïdra, du nom d’un temple maltais, est l’œuvre la plus ancienne de l’enregistrement. Hiératique et contemplative, la musique se développe autour d’une note polaire, le si♭, et d’un intervalle, le demi-ton (ou son renversement la septième majeure), dévoilant progressivement l’image sonore de la vision première. C’est celle de l’envol qui fonde l’écriture de Plus haut (2018), une quête fervente vers la lumière nourrie par la résonance des pizziccati que mène Dan Barrett sur son instrument, arpentant tout le registre du violoncelle sur les degrés d’une échelle-harmonie. Fallait-il pour autant pousser la réverbération/amplification du son à un tel niveau, au point de modifier sensiblement les qualités acoustiques (grain et couleur) de l’instrument soliste ?

Côté duo, c’est à partir d’un rythme obstiné que s’élabore celui des deux violoncelles dans Orange and yellow II, une transcription de la pièce éponyme pour deux altos dont le titre est emprunté au peintre Rothko. Répétitive et incantatoire comme l’est volontiers la musique de Lemaître, l’œuvre exploite le procédé du canon-écho entre les deux violoncelles, phénomène d’ombre double joueuse et féline grossie par l’amplification généreuse qui prévaut dans tout l’album. Réunissant le violoncelle et la clarinette (Michiyo Suzuki) dans Thot (1994), Lemaître recherche les effets de textures entre les deux instruments : la clarinette s’immisce dans le spectre du violoncelle ou, inversement, le violoncelle s’inscrit sur les multiphoniques de la clarinette, élaborant une matière d’une complexion sensible et délicate.

Stances, hommage à Henri Dutilleux écrit pour le centenaire du maître disparu (2016) est la pièce la plus attachante de l’album. Dans un cheminement intérieur et rêveur, la ligne de violoncelle évolue sur la toile harmonique du piano, les deux instruments complémentaires gardant ici une certaine autonomie. Le violoncelle explore toute l’échelle de son registre, s’aventurant dans la zone fragile et détimbrée des harmoniques aigus. Seize sections enchaînées articulent cet « in memoriam » invitant l’auditeur à une écoute immersive. Dan Barrett, qui en est le dédicataire, déploie un large nuancier de couleurs au côté du piano irradiant de Jed Distler.

— Michèle Tosi, 2.06.2021

French composer Dominique Lemaître is new to me, even though he has written over a hundred works and was born in 1953. I was, therefore, intrigued by this disc and the opportunity to review it. The composer's output encompasses a great variety of music and he has acknowledged a wide range of musical influences. He is particularly fond of the cello and this shows in this very effective offering.

The second work, Thot (1994) is scored for cello and clarinet and refers to the Egyptian god of scribes and the record keeper of the relationships between things and humans. There is a sensuousness about this music as the two instruments come together, but a sense of the eternal, and timelessness as they grow apart. At times the texture and sounds make you think that more than two instruments are involved, yet at other times, an almost lunar-like emptiness makes one listen intently. This is a beautiful piece encapsulating time and space.

Mnaïdra for solo cello, written in 1992, takes its name from a bronze age temple situated in the south of the island of Malta. Historically it has been known as 'The temple of bees' or as 'The temple of honey'. Perhaps this is portrayed by the drawn out note that begins each phrase. The accompanying booklet gives a detailed analysis. To quote Claude-Henry Joubert, 'This is a world that has passed, a presence that has disappeared, a voice that has gone silent but of which the echo lingers on, a memory.' To me, this sums up very well this work, especially the second half of it.

The composer Henri Dutilleux, who died in 2013, aged ninety-eight, was known to Lemaître. Stances, homage à Henri Dutilleux was written in 2015 as a tribute to this great twentieth century composer, and also to acknowledge his important works for the cello. It also served to commemorate the one hundredth anniversary of Dutilleux's birth which occurred the following year. This work is quite substantial, over thirteen minutes long and is scored for cello and piano. It is my personal favourite work on this disc, and echoes of Dutilleux can be felt throughout, in particular of Tout un monde lointain, a Dutilleux work which I also love. This strangely compelling Lemaître work is at times elegiac and at others more impassioned. Even though the work is made up of sixteen adjoined sections and three different pitch 'reservoirs' and tempi, there is a unity that connects the whole work, which is the repetition and extension of the opening note flourish on the piano.

Lastly, Plus Haut, composed in 2018, evokes an elevation from the earth element to one of air. It is scored for solo cello, is in three sections and is drawn from elements of an earlier concertante work for cello and ensemble that Lemaître wrote in 1999-2000 called Altius. As the work progresses, one senses a feeling of leaving the ground and ascending upwards. This is especially evident in the final section as the melodic line climbs ever higher and with increasing intensity before it dissolves into the distance.

This is a remarkably interesting CD and one that I enjoyed very much. All the artists involved, and especially cellist Dan Barrett, produce truly inspirational music making. The music itself is honest and original, and I would certainly like to hear a lot more by this composer. I hope, even if contemporary music is not your 'thing', that you give this disc a good listening. Unlike much contemporary music, it is easily accessible on first hearing and has much to recommend it.

The first work, Orange and Yellow II - Homage to Morton Feldman, was originally written for two violas in 2013 and is part of an ongoing series of duos that started back in 2005. The work is in one movement. As the work is stereophonic in nature, yet the parts intertwine at the same time, a good sound system or stereo headphones are essential. The composer shows great skill in writing for the cello and employs many different techniques to provide a varied and interesting soundscape. The percussive plucked notes, harmonics and playing on or close to the bridge are particularly effective and the eight-minute work is never dull and is performed with consummate skill.

— Geoff Pearce, 10.24.2020

This gorgeously recorded collection of Lemaître's cello music, played with mastery and a deep connection by Dan Barrett, was my introduction to the French composer. Based on these jewel-toned pieces, which often tingle the spine and always engage the mind, I'm ready to deepen the friendship. The album opens with Orange and yellow II (2013), in a transcription from the original two-viola version, making full use of the eight strings as Barrett duets with Stanislav Orlovsky. Inspired by Mark Rothko and written in tribute to Morton Feldman, the two cellos pursue a dialogue that is as riveting as listening in on a conversation by dazzling intellects. Like many of the pieces, the highly resonant acoustic is almost another instrument, with notes hanging in the air and echoing in the distance.

Mnaïdra (1992) and Plus haut (2018) are the two solo works here and a good measure of how Lemaître's work has developed over the years. The former is lyrical and almost folk-like, with gentle strums and tidy melodies, while the latter is an epic of abstract yearning, ending with a series of piercing repeated notes ("higher" - as implied by the title) that will stay with you for some time. Pianist Jed Distler is on hand for Stances, hommage à Henri Dutilleux (2015), which has single notes from the keyboard decorating long, ruminative lines from the cello, like sunlight sparkling on water, and you would likely not need the title to recognize Lemaître's debt to his fellow French master. The album also includes Thot (1994), which has Barrett playing with clarinetist Michiyo Suzuki in a wonderfully hushed exploration of woody textures. Read the notes and you will find that Lemaître is, in some ways, what you might expect from a cultured French composer: elegant, well-read, well-traveled, and with phenomenally assured technical skills. But that doesn't mean that this music isn't quietly surprising and the fact that it is surpassingly excellent is likely a result of all those qualities. There's something to be said for new music made old school!

— Jeremy Shatan, 11.08.2020

Le violoncelliste américain, Dan Barrett, consacre un album à Dominique Lemaître, compositeur fécampois. De L’Espace trouver la fin et le milieu réunit des œuvres écrites pour solo et duo entre 1992 et 2018.

Il a seulement fallu deux rencontres pour que les deux hommes s’apprécient et émettent le souhait de travailler ensemble. Le premier, Dan Barrett, est un violoncelliste virtuose, le second, Dominique Lemaître, est un compositeur qui compte une centaine d’œuvres. Le musicien américain a enregistré 5 pièces de l’artiste fécampois sur un disque monographique, De L’Espace trouver la fin et le milieu.

Ce sont 5 partitions pour violoncelle, en solo ou en duo avec clarinette ou piano. Avec la flûte et les percussions, le violoncelle reste l’instrument préféré de Dominique Lemaître. « J’aime sa voix. On dit qu’il sonne comme un chanteur baryton. J’aime aussi sa chaleur, son groove, son lyrisme ». Dans ces musiques, le compositeur le fait résonner de manières sensible et sensuelle. La mélancolie se mêle au mystère. Orange et Yellow II est inspiré d’un tableau éponyme de Rothko. Thot évoque le dieu égyptien des scribes. Mnaïdra et Plus Haut abordent le thème de l’ascension. Quant à Stances, dédiée à Dan Barrett, cette pièce musicale pour violoncelle et piano est un hommage à Henri Dutilleux dont Dominique Lemaître a fait maintes fois référence.

Cet album traverse ainsi diverses époques, de 1992 à 2018, dans le répertoire de Dominique Lemaître. « Je fais partie de ces compositeurs qui ne renient pas leurs vieilles pièces. Je ne renie pas mes enfants les plus âgés. Je sais que mon écriture a évolué. Et ce, par petites touches. J’ai creusé un sillon ». Le compositeur est ravi de ce nouvel enregistrement. « Cet album est un joyau, de l’orfèvrerie. Dan Barrett a pris beaucoup de temps et joue avec méticulosité, avec une précision chirurgicale ».

DAN BARRETT : « LA RÉPÉTITION N’EST PAS UNE ROUTINE MAIS UN PIEUX RITUEL BIOLOGIQUE »

Votre projet musical a évolué au fil du temps pour décider enfin de consacrer cet album à la musique de Dominique Lemaître. Pourquoi ?

C’est exact : les plans originaux de l’album comprenaient plusieurs pièces de Dominique, d’autres compositeurs européens et une suite d’un compositeur américain. Mais il est devenu de plus en plus clair, pour mon producteur et moi, que le CD devait vivre et parler comme un organisme vivant, qu’il avait besoin de son propre langage : une modalité linguistique gouvernante, une « voix » compositionnelle unificatrice. J’ai fait la connaissance de Dominique au cours de l’été 2015, dans une petite église de Lucca en Italie. Dominique m’a entendu jouer une œuvre solo d’Alastair Greig de Londres. Les souvenirs d’enfance du compositeur sur la guerre des États-Unis au Vietnam constituaient le sous-texte psychologique de la pièce. Dominique m’a abordé après le concert, suggérant d’écrire une pièce pour moi. Peut-être avait-il noté quelque chose dans le ton de mon jeu ? Peut-être a-t-il entendu comment j’avais appliqué une sorte d’« éclairage » théâtral tonal aux idées musicales d’accompagnement ? Ou peut-être y a-t-il entendu un langage instrumental d’intimation et de suggestion, plutôt qu’un langage de simple explication et présentation ? Je connaissais déjà, et j’aimais, le travail de Dominique sur les mythologies et la civilisation classique. Et j’ai appris à bien connaître, un peu comme une langue maternelle, la manière générative dont il traite ces groupements de sons intimidants et ces petites flaques de notes qui, dans sa musique, se propagent et s’entrelacent perpétuellement.

Comment qualifiez-vous la musique de Dominique Lemaître ?

Il ne s’agit pas d’une œuvre qui révèle des formules. On y reconnaît un être hybride. Son visage, sa silhouette et ses moyens de propulsion multiformes sont charmants et délicatement monstrueux, comme une merveilleuse créature des grands fonds, dont la silhouette seule peut être perçue. Ses diverses méthodes d’examen sont ses rêveries : une espèce de rêve analytique. Il s’agit d’une diction de cétacé, à la fois fluide, cellulaire et pointilliste. Elle ne peut être abstraite ou arrachée à sa tradition – son héritage de la langue, ses iconographies matérielles et sonores qui constituent sa « voix » psycho-historique.

Dominique Lemaître qualifie votre interprétation de « précision chirurgicale ». Comment avez-vous travaillé les œuvres ?

La sculpture du terrain et de la « géographie » d’une œuvre demande des facultés à la fois analytiques et réflexives. Dans ma méthodologie, je sollicite l’aide de l’art de la boxe – un art où la maîtrise de la technique, de la puissance animale héréditaire et de l’espace sont des questions de vie et de mort. Quand on « répète » des morceaux de musique, plusieurs voix intérieures provoquent les différentes vitesses et la manière dont on délivre le geste. Une voix incite à continuer à répéter « le coup ». Cette répétition n’est pas une routine mais un pieux rituel biologique; et nos matériaux musicaux sont la cible chérie de la livraison de l’acte physique. En conséquence, les corrections et modifications sont autorisées plutôt qu’imposées. On continue et répète le geste à des vitesses différentes, et dans des directions séquentielles opposées et modifiées, appliquant souvent des alternances expérimentales dans la chorégraphie de l’arc et des doigts. Chaque passage d’une pièce est ainsi sculpté. Il faut aussi un repositionnement perpétuel de l’angle de la main ou du violoncelle lui-même, la distorsion ou la contorsion d’une technique séculaire. Ce processus pourrait être appelé une modification de « la position, le positionnement et le jeu de jambes ». Et après avoir positionné et repositionné ces diverses branches musicales, brindilles et fragments, ils devront ensuite être façonnés par ma propre imagination.

Pourquoi avez-vous choisi un vers de Baudelaire ?

Depuis mes 20 ans à ce jour, j’aime copier, un peu comme un accro, des textes littéraires et musicaux. Parmi ceux qui m’ont le plus marqué sont les mètres poétiques, les visions et les incantations de l’éternel adolescent Baudelaire (à ne pas confondre avec l’éternel adulte, Rimbaud). La phrase des « Plaintes d’Icare », est la chanson de chaque âme – et de Dominique. Cette phrase exprime parfaitement, à travers l’instrumentalité de chaque pièce, la manière dont le compositeur définit l’espace et recherche ses origines.

— Maryse Bunel, 12.17.2020

It is a surprise to find a composer on the New Focus Recordings label who is older than I am. Dominique Lemaître was born in the Normandy region of France in 1953. Among his influences, he includes the music of Debussy, Varèse, Scelsi, Ligeti, Ohana, and the Spectralist composers. Only a handful of his works have been recorded, so this new CD will introduce his music to many of us.

All of the works included here include a cello, either as a soloist or joined by another instrument. According to the booklet note writer, the cello has “a privileged place” in the composer’s output. Cellist Dan Barrett has a privileged place of his own in the composer’s musical life. Lemaître met Barrett in 2015 in Lucca, Italy, and Barrett subsequently premiered Stances (with Jed Distler) in 2016 and Plus haut in 2018, both in New York.

The same booklet note writer invokes Henri Bergson and states, for example, that Plus haut “seems animated by a metaphorical transformation from Earth to Air elements.” I don’t find that particularly helpful, so perhaps it is better to let Lemaître’s music speak for itself, which it does quite capably, and without pandering. Repetition and variation are, in large part, what fixes music in the ear and draws it into the brain, and those elements are present in Lemaître’s work, even though his language his modern. And, even though his language is modern, his music is never discordant. Sometimes it is even pretty, and it is motivated by a desire to communicate with the listener.

Stances, the longest work on this CD (13:34), also is the work that makes the strongest initial impression. Dutilleux’s influence is apparent, and if you like that late French master’s output, Lemaître’s music—particularly in this work, but not exclusively—is the music of a younger man carrying a long-burning torch into the new century.

Orange and yellow II, whose precursor was inspired by a painting by Mark Rothko, and whose subtitle was Homage to Morton Feldman, gives similar material to both cellists, who push it back and forth between the two of them. Again, Dutilleux is an obvious influence. Feldman? Not so much. In the Spectralist Thot, the timbres of the cello and clarinet sometimes are held apart from each other, and sometimes brought together, as if to melt the two instruments into each other. Mnaïdra, from 1992, and the earliest work on this disc, is a quietly ecstatic monologue for the cello. Its abstractions are anchored by periodic returns to the cello’s highest register. Plus haut, also for solo cello, makes good on its title by emphasizing yearning, upwardly striving lines. Again, the music is abstract and yet anchored by repeated gestures and by a sense of development across the work’s 10-minute duration.

This music holds no difficulties for Dan Barrett, who immerses himself entirely in its sound world. Like the music itself, his playing creates visceral sensations whose core is sensuality and an aspiration for transcendence. The other musicians who perform on this CD are of a like mind. The synergy between each of them individually and Barrett are part of what makes Lemaître’s music catch one’s ear.

The engineering is a little artificial, although not unpleasant. The instruments are brought into the foreground, and a reverberant nimbus surrounds them—so strongly, in fact, that it seems to have been added after the fact. The booklet says nothing about this, and I am wondering if this reverberation is central to the composer’s ideas of what his music should sound like. This could not be duplicated in a concert hall, I think, without amplification.

Don’t judge this unusual but not off-putting CD after playing it one or two times. Invite it into your listening space for several hours, and you likely will notice that the music gets better and better with each hearing. I’m not sure that I “get” Lemaître’s music entirely, but it is free of gratuitous effects and seems to have something worthwhile that it wants to say, so I am willing to give it the continued benefit of the doubt. Raymond Tuttle

— Raymond Tuttle, 1.01.2021

Dominique Lemaitre (b. 1953) is new to me and apparently to ARG as well. He studied musicology at the University of Rouen and composition with Jacques Petit. He has written more than 100 works and has a fine reputation and several recordings already. Brace yourself! This recording is extravagant in sound. The echoes suggest more instruments than are actually playing. It opens with a transcription of a work originally written for two violas in 2009, here heard with two cellos, written in homage to Morton Feldman. There are lots of sound effects and suggestions that we might be going somewhere, but though the cellos chase each other about and join each other in varied ways, they are really out there to surprise and shock us, not to play music. A clarinet enters for Thot, notably pure in sound, then joined by cello harmonics, etc. The sound is fascinating. The world comes in from outer space. Dan Barrett is left alone by himself in Mnaïdra, where he plays and plucks. There are lots of sonorous harmonics and whispers and exclamations, but we’re going nowhere. In comes a piano, moving the cello away from the microphone for Stances. Here we become engulfed in “pitch reservoirs”, as the liner notes inform us, for nearly 14 minutes. It’s all sound, though no fury; harmonics, scalar passages, harmonic discrepancies, and occasional noses in the grindstone, inspiring criticism but not real enjoyment. Finally, we’re back to lonely cello in Plus Haut, a 10-minute piece that tries first to put us to sleep, then shocks us awake. Finally it deafens us with an endless high-register note, after which we are out of danger, I hope! If this seems less than positive, don’t let me discourage you from it just because I found it more sonoric than musical. It is recorded with clarity and played with conviction. Perhaps it is significant that it is presented by International Street Cannibals.

— David W. Moore, 1.13.2021

The classical cellist devotes a whole program to the works for modern French composer Dominique Lemaitre. Well suited to this minimalist, recital setting, Barrett shows the command of his instrument that other cellists who have done virtual solo recordings have demonstrated to fine effect. You can even feel echoes of experimental Zappa lurking in the grooves as this could pass for out takes from “Chrome Plated Megaphone of Destiny” minus the speed bumps. A modernist feast.

— Chris Spector, 8.25.2020