The early compositions of Pascal Dusapin were strongly influenced by Varese and Xenakis, and while the mathematical violence of those composers is still a core feature of his work, he’s recently began to incorporate broader influences, including more traditional elements. The three pieces featured on this excellent release, the latest of several by the Naïve label devoted to the French composer, explore Dusapin’s approach to the concerto, broadly orthodox in structure but defined by a restless individuality, a refusal to be defined by formal constraints.
It’s also interesting to see how Dusapin engages with the unique timbral qualities of individual instruments. Watt (after Samuel Beckett), his concerto for trombone gives the instrument a workout comparable to Luciano Berio’s Sequenza. From moon-directed howls to raspberry fluffs, alongside tin-can percussion and flighty piccolo it all bumbles and squawks like a Euro free-improv troupe. The heart-rending finale, with soloist Alain Trudel emitting painfully mournful notes, offers a particularly convincing portrayal of the lone performer victorious, yet abandoned, by predatory outside forces.
The other works are equally strong, Dusapin twisting his forces in different directions. Juliette Hurel’s flute in Galim flits like a nimble butterfly over rustling fields of strings, all shaded by a stillness reminiscent of Takemitsu’s later orchestral scores. Dusapin’s Cello Concerto, Celo, is perhaps his most involving, moving from the bleak, dirge-like opening movement through passages of chaotic agitation, powered by a fierce, yet disordered rhythmic logic. Nothing here is easily explained, but trying to decipher the architecture at work, and losing oneself in the process, makes for rewarding listening.
Joshua Meggitt
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