Fanfare Reviews

from Fanfare Nov/Dec 2014 ; Robert Schulslaper

WALLACE The Elements. A Heavy Sleep. Black Falcon. The Bells. Sonata One. Passing in the Night • Frank Wallace (gtr) • GYRE 10172 (62:06)

WALLACE Gargoyles. Nocturne. The Coming of Arthur. White Albatross. Night Owl. New England Quartets • Annika Hinsche;Anne Wolf; Kristina Lisner; Melanie Hunger (man); Fabian Hinsche (gtr); Thomas Kolarczyk (b) • GYRE 10202 (63:19)

Frank Wallace admits to an existential restlessness, a state that continually leads him into new creative byways: Elemental and Gargoyles survey some of what he’s discovered en route. Fire, first of The Elements, imparts a feeling of strength, rigor, and uncompromising adherence to Wallace’s personal atonal vocabulary but retains sufficient “gravitational attraction” to hold the listener. In other words, it sustains a connection to traditional predecessors while staking out new territory. Wallace cultivates a full-throated approach to dynamics—he doesn’t make a fetish out of tone, per se, as some guitarists are inclined to do. That doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of a loving appreciation of it: the second movement of Sonata One, Water’s flowing “liquidity,” and numerous tender moments scattered throughout his works show him to be a musician with complete mastery of his instrument’s timbral resources. But he also frequently employs a ringing, almost metallic sonority that imparts a granitic emphasis. Hence the “strength.” As I’ve tried to indicate, this tendency is not uniformly present: while it can be heard in the first movement of Sonata One, the concluding Prestissimo from the same piece softens the severity through injections of tonal melody. Familiar guitaristic devices—tremolo, for example— also serve as ingratiating “invitations.” The energetic I’m Still Your Pappy, from Passing in the Night, takes these elements into yet more accessible terrain. The Moorishly evocative Black Falcon stands somewhat apart from its disc mates, yet it bears Wallace’s stamp in its form, its carefully spaced silences, and forceful repetition of key ideas, episodically lightened by harmonics, triplet figures, and allusive strumming.

Gargoyles (the CD), finds Wallace writing for mandolins, singly or in concert (mandolin duo or mandolin quintet) and guitar. The fleet, silvery mandolins are an attractive foil for the guitar’s deeper, more prolonged resonance: Runs sparkle and tones can be indefinitely prolonged via tremolos. While a fair amount of the music is tonal/modal, with an occasional Celtic presence (The Coming of Arthur), White Albatross provides “gestural” counterpoint (see interview). Even so, abstraction shares the stage with more “human” material; the moving finale put me in mind of Britten’s Nocturnal, not through any particular motivic resemblance, but for the way its soulful concord resolves the preceding turbulance/discord with artful simplicity. Night Owl, Part 1, for mandolin solo, is mysterious, spacious, and segues surprisingly into a brief reminiscence of the Renaissance. Night Owl, Part 2 is more energetic, with running figures and strumming generating momentum and dramatic contrast. Occasional interjections in both parts may represent the frightening shrieks that Wallace referred to in our conversation.

Although these two CDs provide a fairly comprehensive introduction to Wallace’s style, if not his complete oeuvre, I should point out that his approximately one hundred songs for voice, which include intricate guitar/lute accompaniments, are very dear to him. He’s set himself the task of revitalizing the art song as practiced during the Renaissance, when composers like Dowland chose the lute to support the voice in works whose fusion of poetry and music represent a high point in Western culture (seven of Wallace’s song cycles may be heard on Woman of the Water, Gyre 10082 and The Great Deep, Gyre 10102). To further tempt readers to sample Wallace’s music, I’d like to mention Joy, a charming album of Christmas carols new and old which I favorably reviewed in Fanfare: 32:2. Guitar connoisseurs will surely like to know that on Elemental Wallace plays one of two Hausers commissioned by Andrés Segovia: Wallace recounts the absorbing story of its fifty year journey into his hands in the liner notes. Robert Schulslaper