Anyone familiar with
György Kurtág's practices will probably expect his Kafka-Fragmente, Op. 24 (1985-1986), to be another of his open-ended works, pieces that exist in a state of potential revision that are intermittently subjected to changes. Yet for all its looseness of design and apparent mutability -- one can easily imagine these extremely short movements rearranged in several different orders and for various instruments -- this setting for soprano and violin of phrases from Franz Kafka's letters and diaries is complete and unlikely to be configured in any other version.
Kurtág himself was surprised to find that his initial sketches for the work were appropriately gnomic in expression and economical in instrumentation, and he decided that he needed nothing more than the sparsest materials to communicate the essence of these fragile, epigrammatic texts. Soprano
Juliane Banse and violinist
András Keller are fully attuned to
Kurtág's miniaturist language and exacting techniques, and their delivery of Kafka-Fragmente is meticulous and convincing under the composer's close supervision. Not that this is easy music to penetrate, least of all in one sitting: the combination of Kafka's melancholy visions and
Kurtág's terse, gestural style can be daunting for the uninitiated, if not depressing; and the extended vocal and instrumental effects are occasionally harsh and irritating. This moody piece is recommended for
Kurtág's fervent admirers and adventurous listeners with a liking for expressionist monodramas, but not for a much wider audience. ECM's reproduction is splendid, so
Banse and
Keller are clearly heard in all details, with a resonance that adds a spectral sheen to their eerie sonorities.