In American music, people don’t usually sing the blues when happy, and in the culture at large, to be “blue” is to be sad, depressed, despondent. But while guitarist/composer/arranger Lars Hannibal writes about “the expression of Blue as a mood or state of mind,” to him it’s “The feeling where things flow calmly and freely in a light where both performers and listeners are equally open to let their thoughts and minds wander safely.” As a musician, one way to facilitate this feeling is to write singable tunes supported by simple, direct harmonies. He’s followed that course throughout, and additionally, in the 8 Danish Song arranged for recorder and guitar, he’s chosen “to use only the lower instruments of the recorder family in order to keep this introvert and unflashy ‘blue mood.’” Elsewhere, smaller recorders are used as necessary to reach the higher notes, in the process adding a pleasing liveliness and timbral variety to the virtuosic embellishments.
Stylistically, Hannibal’s compositions are an attractive amalgam of personal melodic style with influences from Baroque, Renaissance, and even Medieval models: passages recalling the great lutenists of old; grounds and descending bass lines of the sort made famous by Pachelbel’s Canon—“one of the most calm and soothing phrases that I know of in music”—and that underpin Chaconnes and Passacaglias; patterns very close to those used by J.S. Bach in several of his preludes; and occasional drones, common to both medieval music and its folksong descendants. Despite Hannibal’s professed emphasis on calm, simplicity, and clarity, the mood is not uniformly laidback: ample scope is given to movement, ornament, and virtuosity, not only in the recorder part but also evident in Hannibal’s skillful accompaniments, cleverly conceived counterpoints, and unobtrusive melodic doublings. As might be expected, he and his longtime duo partner and former wife, Michala Petri on recorder, are always in synch, and their daughters, cellist Agnete and vocalist Amalie are a credit to their musical parents. A singer/songwriter who has recorded with various bands, Amelie’s light, gracefully modulated soprano is a perfect vehicle for the two flowing, nature-inspired songs, Autumn Rain and Springtime Sun, as well as the poignant Magical Thoughts. She’s briefly overdubbed in Springtime Sun, metamorphosing from one singer into three, while for Autumn Rain, Hannibal has added a “subtle far away sound of sampled guitar…in the intro and the deep bass drum in the verse,” the latter symbolizing the earth. In The Moor, a moody recorder solo with something of the character of a lament, Michala Petri, too, “sings,” vocalizing while playing à la Roland Kirk or Jethro Tull’s Ian Anderson. One more word about the instrumental-only 8 Danish Songs: while they cohere well, the varied tunes, settings, and affects highlight each song’s individuality. Hannibal has arranged two for solo guitar, including C.E.F. Weyse’s Quiet is the night, which, in homage to Spanish guitarist/composer Francisco Tárrega, is the only piece featuring tremolo effects: listen to Tárrega’s Recuerdos de la Alhambra to truly appreciate Hannibal’s tribute. Addressing folk music’s emotional impetus, Hannibal caps his booklet snapshot of the history and tradition of Danish song with a quote from “The ancient Greenlander Orpingalik from the Netsilil people: ‘Songs are thoughts that are sung out with the breath when people are moved by great virtue and regular speech no longer suffices.”
It’s tempting to end my review there, but I wouldn’t wish to overlook the recording’s fine acoustical qualities, its clear and accurate attention to instrumental and vocal timbres, the warm, subtly resonant ambience, and the carefully nuanced balances. The descriptive booklet sports an evocative cover, an atmospheric landscape captured during the fabled “blue hour” beloved of photographers everywhere, that visually suggests the synergy between music and the Natural World so beautifully rendered by Lars Hannibal in this lovely release.
Robert Schulslaper
Five stars: This is beautiful, often haunting music, fabulously recorded, and fully worthy of investigation
Colin Clarke, Fanfare US
Five stars: This is beautiful, often haunting music, fabulously recorded, and fully worthy of investigation
In 2017, Fanfare reviewed a disc called Garden Party that celebrated 25 years of the musical partnership of Michala Petri and Lars Hannibal as a recorder and guitar duo. Reviewed in 41:2, that disc included some compositions by Hannibal: here is a complete disc of his works and folksong arrangements. The two are linked in Hannibal’s output, though, in that he has always sought to invite dialogue between the two. To make this a family affair, the two other musicians also happen to be Petri and Hannibal’s daughters (Agnete was born in 1994, Amalia in 1996).
It would be impossible in imagine finer performances than these. Listening carefully to the simplicity of expression of the music itself reveals the art behind it. The title of the disc, [BLUE}, refers to the mood of melancholy, and indeed the gentle melancholy of Autumn Rain is a case in point as regards that concealed art. There is also a kid of concealed virtuosity in Sunset Dance, in that one only notices it retrospectively.
How beautiful, too, the vocal items Amalie Hannibal Petri’s beautiful voice perfect (the absence of vibrato enables us to experience that beauty full force). The homeliness of The Magic of Thoughts, too, with its easy flow and its invocation of an idealized world, acts as a perfect close to the first part of the disc. In contrast, the one piece for solo recorder, The Moor, (inspired by Danish Himmerland) offers a lonely call; this piece also requires the player to sing to create “interference tones” that add a curiously wistful aspect. The technical challenge here cannot be easy, but again it is delivered with consummate mastery. In Hannibal’s music, simplicity of utterance meets modal inflections meets grounds. Further exposure to this music would doubtless yield many further rewards.
The disc also offers a sequence of some eight Danish songs arranged for recorder and guitar by Hannibal; it seemed the logical way to present the fruits of both his output and the partnership of Hannibal and Petri. The music here was an integral part of Hannibal’s youth. Lovely to have a guitar solo to balance out the recorder earlier (a very nuanced Nielsen’s I know a lark’s nest); but it is perhaps the other Nielsen song, Wond’rous air of evening) that offers the greatest sense of intimacy, a piece that happens to exude inspiration at the same time. There are some gems in here: Franz Gebauer’s Just where the way beats a bay is utterly charming.
The recording is impeccable, as is the documentation. This is beautiful, often haunting music, fully worthy of investigation.
Colin Clarke, Fanfare US