Reinbert de Leeuw conducts Kurtág on historic CD box set

The three-part CD box set of choral and ensemble works by György Kurtág is, in a word, overwhelming. His soul-crushing sounds are sublimely interpreted by Reinbert de Leeuw et al. The recording, too, is impeccable. This box set is already historic, a monument to the Hungarian grandmaster, who turned 91 last February.

Kurtág's existentialist music had been performed in our country since the mid-1970s, including by pioneers such as the pianist Geoffrey Madge and the Residentie Orkest. Yet it only really became known from the 1990s onwards, when Reinbert de Leeuw emerged as a tireless promoter. He dedicated many memorable concerts to the grandmaster of the concise gesture, with whom he forged a close bond.

Language

On this release from the adventurous German label ecm, Reinbert has once again outdone himself. With his relentless will to get to the heart of the matter, he brought Asko|Schönberg, Groot Omroepkoor, Cappella Amsterdam and a host of soloists to intense performances.

Kurtág was too frazzled to attend the recordings in person, but was consulted extensively before and after each session. He is delighted with the result: 'It's as if they recorded the music in their own language.' He spoke these words in a moving video message during a portrait concert at Muziekgebouw aan het IJ.

No talk for the often, because language is extremely important to Kurtág - in multiple senses. He created a grammar entirely of his own out of poignant, aphoristic clarion calls, bubbling up from a deep inner need. Reinbert de Leeuw has made these his own like no other. Of the eleven pieces on the compilation, seven are vocal. Kurtág even learned Russian to read Dostoevsky; three cycles are set in this language.

Complete novel in seconds

The best known of these is Messages from the late Miss R.V. Troessova, with which he broke through in Western Europe in the 1980s. In 21 miniatures, a soprano sings of bitter love experiences. The longest song lasts 3 minutes, the shortest 22 seconds. In that short space of time, however, Kurtág sketches a complete novel.

Russian soprano Natalia Zagorinskaya knows how to hit every inflection, delicately licking between the lowest and highest registers. In the equally flawless ensemble - with atmospheric horn and cimbalom - references to Schoenberg's Pierrot lunaire. Zagorinskaya additionally shines in the film dedicated to her Achmatova songs and in Four Capriccios on texts by István Bálint. These originated between 1959 and 1973 and open the CD box set, which is arranged chronologically.

Unknown pearls

A feast of recognition is Grabstein for Stephan, with its distinctive motif on the guitar's open strings. The Beethoven-inspired ...quasi una fantasia... for piano and ensemble is a modern classic. Equally well-known but less frequently played is the Double Concerto for piano, cello and ensemble, with starring roles for pianist Tamara Stefanovich and cellist Jean-Guihen Queyras.

Unknown gems are there too. Such as the Four songs to poems by János Pilinszky, featuring the glowing baritone Harry van der Kamp. The Songs of despair and sorrow for choir and instruments are not often performed either. In just under 20 minutes, the Great Broadcasting Choir switches between ultra-soft whispers, ear-splitting screeches, profoundly sad laments and excited mirth. At times, we briefly imagine ourselves at a Russian village festival. Even the bajan, a Russian accordion, is not missing.

Jolting and bumping climax

The highlight is Samuel Beckett: What is the Word, composed in 1991 for Hungarian actress and singer Ildikó Monyók. She lost her voice in a traffic accident, but recaptured it with great difficulty. With palpable pain, jolting and bumping, she performed a song translated into Hungarian poem on aphasia by Samuel Beckett. A smashing experience - both live and on CD.

Monyók died in 2012, but Reinbert de Leeuw was determined to re-record the piece. The highly critical Kurtág resolutely rejected any proposal - until he received a recording by the mezzo-soprano Gerrie de Vries. 'We found her!' he exclaimed elatedly. And right he is. De Vries makes you involuntarily reach for your throat with her raspy, ragged voice. - As if you too are prevented from speaking.

Only one downside

So a big 10 for music, performance and recording. Only downside is the somewhat clumsy way of documenting. For instance, the performers are not listed with the pieces themselves, but at the front of the CD booklet, and the name of Cappella Amsterdam is missing. You have to calculate total times yourself; the CD covers do not even list track numbers.

Tricky for radio makers, like me. But other than that, nothing but praise. Indeed, I filled two episodes of Panorama the Lion with recordings from this CD box set. - Kurtág's music cannot be heard often enough.