The accordion, I confess, is not my favourite instrument, but when handled as virtuosically as by Mika Vayrynen and in music which fits it like a glove – as in Piazzolla’s Tres tangos and Aconcagua Concerto – it is irresistible. The Tres tangos are an excellent set, more suite than concerto, and more intimate in scale than Aconcagua which, in keeping with its subject (Argentina’s highest peak), possesses a greater massiveness of sound. Both were written for the bandoneon, a variant of the accordion, but Vayrynen uses a Russian Jupiter instrument, the sound of which ‘is much akin to that of the bandoneon’, so why not use the latter? Well, power and depth mainly; and questions of authenticity are not so acute here as they are in, say, Bach or Scarlatti. The result is most satisfactory and, if nothing else, proves that for Piazzolla tango could be a means to an expressive end as much as a vehicle for enjoyment. And enjoyment is the watchword for the whole of this brilliantly played and recorded disc
Both the unusually meditative Oblivion and Adios Nonino are arrangements by Carlos Morera adapted by Vayrynen. The hybrid Adios Nonino (retaining Morera’s long piano introduction) captures its bittersweet essence even more than the more straightforward rendition (arr Medaglia and Ammon) for the 12 Cellists on EMI. More interesting still on EMI’s programme are the Fuga y misterio and Chiquilin de Bachin, the latter a rare vocal piece. The Berliners’ touch is surer in Piazzolla and in some of the lighter pieces (such as Chabuca Granda’s La flor de la canela or Jorge Ben’s Mas que nada) than in Villa-Lobos’s Bachiana No 1. The precision of the playing is exemplary, but the central Modinha lacks atmosphere, reinforcing my long-held belief that Villa-Lobos’s music benefits from the odd rough edge. The Berliners are more convincing in Bachiana No 5, nicely sung by Juliane Banse, though – as with No 1 – this is no match for the rivals listed above.
Overall, the 12 Cellists’ disc is a mixed bag. Despite the considerable elan of their delivery, Kaiser-Lindemann’s ‘Die 12’ in Bossa-nova is empty, a piece more fun to see in concert than hear on disc. The title-track, by Burt Bacharach, comes from his Oscar-nominated soundtrack for Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Alas, it is the lamest piece here (the Swingle Singers had far more bite in the original), a failing more of the arrangement than of the performance. A good thing neither outlaw was depending on it as a mode of escape!'