TURKISH MUSIC FOR SOLO VIOLIN  Ÿ  Ellen Jewett (vn)  Ÿ  NAXOS 8.579043 (65:08)
SAYGUN Violin Partita, op. 36 TÜRKMEN Beautiful and Unowned CETIZ Soliloquy
By Colin Clarke

Another niche release from Naxos, but one with an interesting stretch. The music of Ahmed Adnan Saygun still needs more recognition (not the first time I’ve said that in these pages: see my review of a Naxos disc of Saygun piano music in Fanfare 32:2 and also my interview with Kathryn Woodward and review of her Albany disc of piano music in Fanfare 33:6), so it is good to see his Violin Partita here. Inevitable comparisons to Bartók’s Sonata for Solo Violin will come up, and indeed there are resonances between the two men’s languages. Yet Saygun has his own voice: his use of modal lines as well as tonal ones, of gesture derived from traditional Turkish modes coupled with frequent chromaticism is heady indeed, mixed with a smattering of Romanticism. The improvisatory nature of the first movement, brilliantly done by Jewett, leads to a witty Scherzo (the Trio includes a Turkish folk dance), and thence to a set of variations that lasts nearly a quarter of an hour and includes passages of high virtuosity, negotiated with aplomb here. The finale evokes a folk circle dance popular in the Black Sea region. Jewett projects its rustic joy; such is her persuasiveness, one almost misses the demands made on her, the rough stoppings at speed, the sudden pizzicatos … the list goes on. This is apparently the World Premiere recording of this piece. One imagines it has a limited playership on both technical and stamina grounds.
In terms of Saygun’s output, this is one of two Sonatas for solo strings (the other one is for cello). One cannot help but notice that there are five operas listed as by Saygun, none of which appear to have been recorded in toto.
Commissioned by the present violinist, Onur Türkmen’s Beautiful and Unowned (2013, heard here in its 2017 revision) meditates on the scenery and atmosphere of Cappadocia. In this twenty-minute exploration, grating sounds add to the violin’s expressive orbit. It is in this world, defined by the modes and conventions of Turkish music known as “makams,” that one’s attention moves to the acoustic, which seems to support this mode of discourse perfectly; a little research confirms that the actual venue for this entire recording (listed as “Chez Galip” on the disc) is actually a hand-carved Cappadocian cavern. The composer dares to use silence against single notes which arch across those silences, striving to remain a line; Jewett makes it work brilliantly, and hauntingly, and it is in these passages that the memorability of Türkmen’s voice lies.
Finally, another Jewett commission Mahir Cetiz’ 2016 Soliloquy. It begins with a gesture almost like a violin imitating a hissing cat: assertive, designed to shock. Stratospheric writing seems miraculously pure here; when the violin line descends, it is then that it becomes mobile and agitated, almost as if the composer is setting up a Heaven and an Earth. The interpretative challenge here is how to maintain such a gestural mode of discourse over a span of some 17-plus minutes. Again, Jewett manages it (and how keen her ear for tuning is, too); the close of the piece (and, therefore of the disc as a whole) is massively exciting. I enjoyed three of Cetiz’ works on a Metier disc reviewed in Fanfare 41:5, and I enjoyed Soliloquy also; pressed to choose between hearing the Türkmen and the Cetiz again, it would be the Cetiz that got my vote.
A remarkable disc, one that could be so easily overlooked yet one which is so rich in what it delivers.
 
Amazon Rating: four stars Headline: “A remarkable disc, one that could be so easily overlooked yet one which is so rich in what it delivers.”