HARBISON Piano Trios:1 No. 1; No. 2, “Short Stories.” Gatsby Etudes.2 The Violist’s Notebook: Bk. I; Bk. II.3 10 Micro-Waltzes.4 Cucaraccia and Fugue.5 Cello Suite6 • Rieko Aizawa (pn);1,2,4 Anthea Kreston (vn, va);1,3 Jason Duckles (vc);1,6 Steven Tenenbom (va);5 Ida Kavafian (va);5 Anthea Kreston (va);5 John Harbison (va)5 • NAXOS 8.559243 (70:34)

Naxos’s laudable exploration of the music of John Harbison continues here with a selection of his chamber music, featuring three young players who call themselves the Amelia Piano Trio. Since they divide up for most of the disc, the headnote reflects the individuals, rather than the group. In Fanfare 30:4, I wrote about an excellent, similar Harbison disc that featured the late and great Lorraine Hunt Lieberson. No vocal music this time, though.

The longest and most substantial piece is the Second Piano Trio of 2003. The composer’s own booklet notes acknowledge a debt to Haydn, especially in its transparency of scoring. I remain unsure whether Harbison has taken on board much of Haydn’s famous sense of humor, except perhaps in the playfulness of the third movement (entitled, “Rumors and Reports”). But Harbison brings more energy to his jokes than Haydn might. Rieko Aizawa, especially, plays with great athleticism; later, her string colleagues bring great sadness to the opening of the final movement, “Enigma.”

The three Gatsby Etudes reuse material from Harbison’s opera The Great Gatsby, and were written as a gift in gratitude for Judith Gordon, repetiteur for the original opera. The composer claims that they are great fun to play, and it would certainly appear that the performer here, Rieko Aizawa, is having a ball. Harbison’s claim that the pieces pursue some of the opera’s trains of thought is easily believable. In a sense, this is like experiencing curiosity in sound.

The 12 pieces of the two books of The Violist’s Notebook can be performed in any order. The work is written in homage to the enigmatic violinist Bartolomeo Campagnoli (1751–1827) and is played here (on viola) by Anthea Kreston. Book II was apparently written in one day. If true, there is no doubting Harbison’s fluency. The work holds the attention well. It is shot through with a certain feeling of regret. A shame the recording for this piece is so close, as it tires the ear after a while.

Ten Micro-Waltzes provides timbral contrast before the program returns to viola. Written for solo piano, this is one of what Harbison calls “tapestry pieces” (a series of very short movements that together add up to more than the sum of their parts). The piece is a delight. Harbison at his simplest is endearing, and the playing here is ravishing. It comes as no great surprise to learn that Aizawa was the last pupil of Horszowski at the Curtis Institute, for her playing has something of Horszowski’s knowing simplicity of expression. The return to viola sonority is brought about by Cucaraccia and Fugue (2003). The fugue theme is extremely lyrical and continues the nostalgic feel of the Notebook. Lovely.

Harbison describes his Cello Suite as both “private” and “compact.” Written in the wake of the Cello Concerto, it explores the Baroque origins of the cello suite, including the use of dance titles for some of the movements. A return to the close miking of The Violist’s Notebook is not particularly welcome, but it is worth persevering. The debt to Bach is both unsurprising and obvious. Jason Duckles makes light of the difficulties (particularly in the second movement, Fuga—Burletta and in the tricky final Giga).

Finally, the Trio of 1968. Harbison describes it as “a work of its time,” referring to nervous contrasts and the use of short motifs. It is far more overtly modernist than anything else on the disc and, to these ears at least, acts as a sort of postprandial palette freshener.

FANFARE: Colin Clarke