| "[Paul Chasman] has recently come out with a solo disc of classically
oriented compositions, his Sonatas No. 1 and 2. With clearly
defined structures and echoes of composers such as Couperin and Sor, they're
very much in the classical mode, but they also show the influence of jazz
and folk, idioms in which Chasman is equally at home. As a performer,
Chasman is remarkable. His wide, coloristic range encompasses low
growls, ringing harmonics and everything in between; his finger-picking
is precise, his pacing sensitive, and his overall approach thoughtful and
brilliant throughout."
—Willamette Week
These sonatas are timeless. They are perfect. They are so enchanting
that people will be listening to them for centuries to come. We are lucky,
however, to be living and listening to them today for two reasons. First,
we can listen to this music while Paul Chasman is still alive and expressing
his artistry. On this CD we can hear the sonatas interpreted as the composer
intended. And we theoretically could say to our friends 300 years from
now that we discovered Paul Chasman and his music while he was still alive
and undiscovered by the masses. Second, if we were not living and listening
today, we'd be dead.
Sonata No. 2
This sonata is modern baroque music - modern only in the sense that both
it and Sonata No. 1 were written in the late 1990's, and baroque
in that it sounds as if it had been written in the 1690s. This sonata takes
one back a few centuries, back to the days when sonatas had four movements,
not two or three. If Bach were alive today, this is the music he would
be writing for the guitar. Conversely, this music is what people 300 years
from now will be listening to. Coincidentally, the "Big Guy" referred
to in the title of the first movement is J. S. Bach. Bach isn't dead; he
is alive and well in the first movement: Here, the theme unfolds in D minor
until measure 25 where it glides into A minor. In measure 44 is a shift
in the presentation of the theme, arpeggiated chords hinting at a return
to the key of D minor, but instead leading to a D-major restatement of
the theme. This restatement ingeniously modulates from major to minor to
major until its final return to the original theme in D minor. It's brilliant!
The second movement, Tears, also begins in D minor. A four measure
rubato introduction in four-four time gracefully gives way to a dreamy
andante melody in eleven-four time carried in the bass line, accompanied
by a remarkably well-executed succession of sixteenth-note treble statements.
The introductory statement returns in measures 28, 44, and 62 to help the
listener get a bearing before continuing with variations of the andante
segment. I wish this movement were longer. The third movement, Waltz
in the Morning Mist, is so beautiful and evocative that it nearly brings
me to tears. The movement starts in D minor, which gives it a somber feeling
not conducive to waltzing at all (at least not by humans, though I can
imagine mischievous elves prancing about). Paul's ingenious use of eighth-note
and sixteenth-note triplets produces the perception that what's really
doing the waltzing here is the melody. By measure 63, the melody has whirled
its way to the key of E-minor, but in key signature only: The melody so
gracefully flits through modulation after captivating modulation that the
listener engages with the magic of this waltz. Sonata No. 2 finishes
with a movement entitled All of the Above. This movement is a recapitulation
of all three preceding movements. Beginning in F major, this movement also
uses the Baroque bass line set against a light and lively allegro melody
line in which Paul's intriguing use of triplets reappears. Again, the melody
modulates, from F major to C major to G minor. When it returns to F major,
the music begins to build its finale with a gradual crescendo and accelerando
through the last 44 measures. The building is so dynamic that when the
final chord is played, the listener may throw his hands above his head
and shout, "Yes!"
Sonata No. 1
Sonata No. 1, which inexplicably appears on this CD after Sonata
No. 2, has a more modern, less Baroque flavor. It begins with Dark
Dance, a rubato exploration of darkness in five-four time. Part of
this movement's darkness comes from its struggle between major and minor
modes, but for me its unsettling effect derives from the melody's unwillingness
to confine itself to a discernible time signature. Just as I begin to feel
at home with the cadence, Paul employs measures of dotted quarters and
the melody seems to stagger. And then when the piece actually changes to
three-four time in measure 131, I feel as though I am being mocked. These
devices keep the listener off balance yet never completely toppled. These
cadence devices work amazingly well to produce a feeling of disquietude.
The disquietude is increased by the bass line fighting with the treble
line for the melody. In addition, when the piece attempts to return to
its original major theme of lightness from the opening measures, the attempts
are subverted by minor modulations. Darkness may be dancing with light,
but in this piece, darkness definitely leads. The development of the exposition
set out in the first movement continues in the second movement, Emerging.
Here, light and darkness are more equal partners in a five-four dance.
I am in love with the chord in the middle of measure 40 (and again in measure
77). It's made up of, from top to bottom, A, E, D#, G, & F. Nowhere
else in the music world would this chord make sense but here. If for no
other reason, get this CD to hear this chord. The third movement, In
Waltzed Anna, is the harbinger of the impending triumph of light over
darkness. This piece sounds as though it were lifted straight out of Anna's
Notebook - only the Anna alluded to in the title is Anna Wiancko-Chasman,
Paul's wife, not Anna Magdalena, Bach's second wife. The melody still begins
on the melancholy side of things, but the waltz time signature is familiar
and reassuring. Midway through the piece there is a full ten-measure section
with nary a flatted third to be found. Rejoice! The dawn cometh! Light,
the fourth and final movement, is a celebration of light in A major. It's
a fiery allegro "J. S. Bach meets Scott Joplin" piece in five-four time.
Darkness though is not banished completely. It makes a cameo reappearance
in the form of eighth notes grouped into cadence-breaking tuplets, leading
into a G-minor recapitulation of an earlier theme. The final struggle between
light and darkness is announced by a key change to C major and by a run
of pleasant-sounding groups of tuplet and duplet eighth notes alternating
between major, minor, and ambiguous musical statements. With a final key
change to A major, the piece races into the light without ever turning
back. The fourth movement is a magnificent piece of work and could
stand entirely on its own, but should be heard in the context of the other
movements to be fully appreciated. A final plus here is that Sitka and
Clyde are pictured on the back of the CD insert (Sitka and Clyde is the
title of one of the cello/guitar duets on Paul's Songs from the Bay). See
if you can guess which is which (Hint: Clyde is portrayed by the cello).
—Chris Hager on Amazon.com
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