The centerpiece of violinist Movses Pogossian's Hommage à Kurtág is his recording of Kurtág's Signs, Games, and Messages for violin (there are others in the series for different instruments). Pogossian has developed a close working relationship with Kurtág, and his interpretations reflect his reverent stance towards the eminent composer as well as the input received from him. Echoing the importance of the concept of homage within Signs, Games, and Messages, Pogossian commissioned several composers to write works in honor of Kurtág — Aida Shirazi, Gabriela Lena Frank, Kay Rhie, and Jungyoon Wie contribute new works to the project, alongside “Melodia” from Bartók's Sonata for Solo Violin and Kodály’s famous Duo for Violin and Cello, providing repertoire context.

Movses Pogossian’s Hommage à Kurtág honors the special place that the eminent composer holds in Pogossian’s musical life. As a coach, mentor, and spiritual guru through music, Kurtág has had a profound impact on so many musicians that he has interacted with. This album features Kurtág’s Signs, Games, and Messages for Solo Violin, a sixteen movement masterpiece of subtlety, brevity, and densely packed expressive meaning. Pogossian extends his homage by commissioning four new response works to Signs, Games, and Messages by Aida Shirazi, Kay Rhie, Jungyoon Wie, and Gabriela Lena Frank. To close the circle of Hungarian lineage, the “Melodia” from Bartok’s solo Sonata is included, as well as Kodaly’s well known Duo for Violin and Cello, op. 7 on the digital only version of the recording, in a performance with eminent cellist Rohan de Saram.

Kurtág’s economy of material can be seen in a post-Webern context — we hear epic novels of meaning in pieces that last no longer than two minutes. Yet, Kurtág’s attention is focused less on a systematic approach to pitch (which is not to say the pitch choices are any less rigorous), and more on zeroing in on the perfect compositional choices that serve a finely specific expression. There is never a sense in his music that any note could have been different — each one had to be as it is. And so we hear the somber descending minor second sighs in “Doloroso” that perfectly encapsulate an inward melancholy, or the folksong inflected “Népdalféle – Im Volkston.” Homage plays an important and central role in Signs, Games, and Messages, and in fact in many of Kurtág’s works. In “Hommage à J.S. Bach” we hear implied counterpoint that evokes that core component of Bach’s solo string works. His “Hommage à John Cage” comes with an inscription in the score, “faltering words” — we hear awkward pauses and hesitation in the truncated phrases. “In Memoriam Blum Tamas,” written for Kurtág’s close conductor friend, features closely spaced dyads which eventually sear with quarter-tone intensity. The work has its light moments as well, like the the foot stomping impetuosity of a child in “Kromatikus feleselős,” or the off-kilter dance of a little girl in “Anziksz Kellerannának.” The longest piece in the set, “In Nomine – all’ongharese,” is presented later in the album program, and shares a poignant quality of pathos and vibrato laden expressivity with the Bartók movement that it immediately follows in the program.

Aida Shirazi’s brief Sign takes the slippery microtones in the third piece of Kurtág’s set, ”Panaszos notá,” as a point of departure. A fragile sustained high E string is subtly doubled with adjusted unisons that push against slight pitch discrepancies. Kay Rhie’s Game addresses Kurtág’s use of irony. A forceful descending two note motive is immediately answered by a distant sustained tone. The conversation between the two ideas frames the short piece, as jocular glissandi figures provide sardonic commentary. Eventually the game between opposing forces dissolves into languorous double stops in the lower register, and finally a short, conciliatory final high harmonic surrenders. Jungyoon Wie’s Message examines the ambiguity inherent in communication. A message is sent and the recipient receives it and interprets it from their individual vantage point. It is so with a piece of music too, conceived with intention and then traveling to the listener as a constellation of possibilities. Wie embeds this ambiguity into the expressive quality of the score, relying heavily on vibrato which obscures the center of the pitch, and slithering lines that lend the work a sense of elusive mystery. Gabriela Lena Frank’s Melodia responds to the iconic Bartók sonata movement. Tremolos ornament the connective tissue of long lines that subtly merge echoes of Frank’s Peruvian background with nods to the styles of Bartók and Kurtág. Taken together, these four response pieces form a shadow suite to the Kurtág and Bartók works that frame them, an opportunity for contemporary composers to pull on a short thread that is prompted by consideration of the precedent laid out before them.

Pogossian’s decision to include the movement from Bartók’s solo sonata and Kodály’s well known duo place the newer works on the program in a context of a lineage of repertoire from Hungary. Written for Yehudi Menuhin while Bartók was undergoing treatment for leukemia in the healing mountain air of Asheville, North Carolina, the solo sonata is a landmark work in the unaccompanied solo violin repertoire, connecting Bach’s Sonatas and Partitas and Eugene Ysaye’s sonatas to later iconic works by Berio and Sciarrino. The “Melodia” movement is mournfully lyrical, and this interpretation showcases Pogossian’s deeply felt and thoughtful phrasing. Like Bartók, Zoltan Kodály devoted much of his creative energy to crafting concert music that grew out of the folk music of Hungary. His Duo for Violin and Cello, op. 7 (included only on the digital version of this release) reflects this in the galloping rhythms, influence of folkloric dance styles, and unbridled energy heard through the piece’s three iconic movements.

– Dan Lippel