Agnes Clement, harp; Lyon & Healy Records, 2012.

4.5 harps 

(Note: recording reviews prior to 2014 were based on a 5-star system.)

When you go to a recital or put a brand new disc into your player, there’s always that little frisson of the unknown. “Will I love it or won’t I?” you ask yourself. Will this be a pleasure or a chore to lend my time to this moment, to lend myself to this moment? You wonder this as you listen, full of hope, to the first notes of Agnes Clément’s new disc Dance. Your answer is positive, and there is nowhere you’d rather be then listening to the music being made for your ears—and it would seem in her case for your ears alone.

As a former flutist, I perk up when I hear a French wind player. The tonal concept, the phrasing, the world view feels entirely different from any other. Agnes carries this with her—she’s a proficient bassoonist as well as harpist—and you can hear it in the lines she creates. The string does not seem to decay or disappear, as it’s somehow buoyed by the direction of her phrasing and timing. This is most evident in the impressionistic, almost haiku-like “Awakening Stillness” by Michael Maganuco. The layering effects and textures are cinematic in Agnes’s capable hands—a questioning soundscape, a shy and hesitant unfolding of pristine beauty.

The album is called “Dance” and this brings me back to the theme of phrase and line. A lazier musician might revel in the sheer beauty of sound she can give us in the opening pieces by Elias Parish.00-Alvars, but operating on the premise that all music must connect with the rhythm of our bodies, of nature, and of the flow of time, even as Agnes plays seemingly ad libitum music, she does so with direction. It all must somehow be danced to.

Agnes has a way, too, of changing the tone as we change environments. There’s a tautness and lock-step to Kachaturian, which she dispenses with when we swoon in the arms of Debussy.

For me, most curious are the three waltzes by Brahms. Like tiny spoonfuls of sorbet, I am curious if the harpist would approach them from the standpoint of imitating the piano or of creating a new sonority. I am not entirely clear what Agnes had in mind, and it feels a bit non-committal,  but taken as a whole, the pieces provide an effervescent pause between more colorfully intense and rhythmic dances, particularly de Falla’s and Renie’s, so her choice feels just right.

Still a young and developing talent, I am giddy to see where the world takes this marvelously gifted and thoughtful musician. A terrific CD worth many listenings from start to finish. •

Alison Young is a classical music host and producer at Minnesota Public Radio/American Public Media. She left a successful career as a flutist a decade ago after she developed a neurological disorder, but before then enjoyed many years traveling the world giving recitals, performing concertos, playing with some of the finest orchestras, and recording her own discs. Nowadays, Young spins discs and is always on the lookout for the next best thing. You can contact her at ayoung@mpr.org.