The idea for a recording started as a glimmer, a vague hope that Denise and I (Catherine) might record sometime in the future. Then when the group was performing Brahms and PDQ Bach with friends we began to muse…what about now? Only Tim Smith, one of our exceptional pianists asked what we might actually do with this recording. I smiled, but it was clear no real answers were coming to the rescue. But Denise and I were in accord- recording Brahms seemed like a great idea.

Sean Swinney was our engineer, our guide, who often works with classical musicians.
He has a fine Steinway piano that helped create our sound. In three sessions, I mean four--we recorded all 33 songs. The fourth session was scheduled only after we realized one of the pieces was missing…well that was certainly an oversight.
Then we began the editing process: fascinating. Every time Denise, Sean and I went further into the sound, we found issues both challenging and illuminating. We slowly developed a sense of what we wanted to hear. We studied the parts in each song and continued to ask how they related to each other. How does one song follow the next? And then, how does the first set flow into the second? What do the silences between the pieces feel like? We embraced the technology, and so willingly, the music. The endless hearings just opened up new ways of listening. We became ever more aware of Brahms’ subtlety and enamored of his compositional resourcefulness.

Perhaps the most important development was how we came to hear the balance of piano and voices. The piano is clearly not only an accompaniment but an equal partner to the singers, true chamber music. In two ways Brahms pointed us toward this conclusion. His choice of 4-hand-piano is our first clue to the piano’s prominent role.

It was fashionable to write 4-hand scores for salons—it encourages a certain amity (especially with crossed over hand positions), but more to the point 4-hand piano often has an orchestral texture. For example, from Liebeslieder, in a very short time “Ein dunkeler Schacht “ (16), two pianists express a powerful sonority that you might find in Brahms’
solo repertoire.

Denise and I also felt the piano needed to be in equal balance to the voices because sometimes in Liebeslieder, but especially in Neue, the piano does not always mirror the vocal lines. So the piano is adding new information to the vocal quartet that should be brought out. For example, in Liebeslieder, songs 13-15 the piano shimmers with essential detail. It creates the poets’ delicate symbols—a bird, the moon, and the nightingale. Though to say the piano has an equal presence does not mean that the piano is always “as loud as” the voices. Chamber music is a give and take. Some lines in the piano and voice cut through the texture or blend in, depending on their importance. For example, while looking at a part one might ask: is this the tune, an echo, or a special dramatic flourish? So to express the poetic whole, the voices and the piano share the stage.

From the beginning we all enjoyed, if you will, a Brahmsian solon where friends and colleagues gather to make music. First we were involved in rehearsals, concerts and the recording seemed like a natural progression. Denise and I are so pleased that our efforts shared with David (tenor), Juan (baritone), Tim and Chris (our remarkable pianists) make the completion of our Brahms CD such a happy and rewarding occasion.

Special thanks to: Bill and Sally Ruddick; Makea McDonald: photographer;
Sean Swinney: engineer; Dan Demetriad: CD & Web design;
louis & winston (aka: snap)