Thomas Adès (b. 1971)
Alchymia (2021)
Mark Simpson (basset clarinet), Quatuor Diotima
rec. 2023 at Orchestre national d’Île-de-France
Reviewed as a digital download from a press preview
Download only with PDF booklet
Orchid Classics ORC100264 [23]
Listening to this 2021 piece by Thomas Adès, at numerous points I found myself wondering: how on earth has he managed to channel the essence of Brahms’ Clarinet Quintet without the slightest whiff of pastiche! Maybe Adès is mellowing with age, or maybe this was the inspiration that arose from this particular combination of instruments.
Being Adès, the musical references don’t end there. Three of the movements (the last three) are based on music by other composers: Byrd, Dowland and Berg respectively. Alongside this use and development of material by others, the piece might also be seen as an encyclopaedia of ways of playing a clarinet. Though the instrument played by Mark Simpson is described as a ‘basset clarinet’ – I’m unsure if this is the same thing as the basset horn used by Mozart.
Inevitably the spirit of Mozart’s clarinet quintet joins the party but, for me, it is Brahms that haunts the mood of the piece. As in his stunning ballet, Dante, Adès has reached a stage in his career where these multiple influences are fully absorbed into his musical bloodstream, leaving him free to express himself with considerable directness. This work sounds nothing like Brahms’ clarinet quintet, but it feels like a kindred spirit – it would make a beautiful coupling for it on record. Since the Brahms is one of the most deeply felt pieces in the repertoire, this means that this Adès work, for all its cleverness and skill, is about heart not head. As with Brahms, there is a sense of reflection on ageing, a mellow surveying of regrets and opportunities not taken but from a position of acceptance not despair. Loss as part of everyday reality rather than a concept informs the quiet melancholy of the third movement.
After a series of increasingly virtuosic variations (the title refers to transformations of all sorts) the finale returns to the gently bitter-sweet mood of the opening. The long fade out after a rare moment where the pain that underpins the score breaks out is handled with serene mastery. Every time I have listened to the work, the ending has had me pressing play all over again. Once just doesn’t seem to be enough.
Recording and performances, unsurprisingly given such a cast of luminaries and the high standards of the label, are everything either composer or listener could wish for.
Adès pulls off quite a coup with this work, balancing the needs of modern music with those of tradition and producing a work I expect to achieve repertoire status.
David McDade
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