Review: Lucian Ban, Mat Maneri, and John Surman’s ‘Cantica Profana – The Béla Bartók Field Recordings’

Despite its jagged start, listen to Cantica Profana – The Béla Bartók Field Recordings (Sunnyside, 2025) its whole way through as it  evolves into gorgeously flowing music. On the album- those who purchase the two LP set will also receive The Athenaeum Concert (Sunnyside, 2025) by the same artists – pianist Lucian Ban, violist Mat Maneri, and woodwind maestro John Surman explore the folk music of Transylvania, collected by Béla Bartók over a century ago. The trio culled it from three different concerts across Europe over two years. These are peasant songs put to music in a way that most would not conceive.  Some of this material first appeared on the trio’s initial recording, Transylvanian Folk Songs (Sunnyside, 2020), but it sounds much different in the live setting. The pairing of piano, viola, and Surnan’s soprano saxophone or bass clarinet is an unusual combination but fits these melodies well.

The reference to ‘jagged” above is specifically to “Violin Song,” two versions of which appear on the album. For it, Ban places his hand inside the piano to provide modified tones reminiscent of the African ngoni, serving as a percussionist and a bassist, which are ostensibly absent from the trio. Surman’s soprano and Maneri’s viola intertwine with each other in a dance-like way, with Maneri exuding influences from Arabic scales. By comparison, “First Return” and “Last Return” are far more meditative with Surman on both bass clarinet and soprano, as the trio conjures a repetitive, solemn refrain that oozes in and out of the piece. The restrained interplay evokes the same saxophonist’s prior collaborations with Paul Bley and Paul Motian.

The album also provides two versions of “Dowry Song,” where Surman’s soprano and bass clarinet, as well as Maneri’s viola, perform a melodic dance over Ban’s simpatico chords. It’s uncanny how the rhythmic motion in the early stages of the piece flows into a sweeping, seemingly airborne motif in the latter half. “Up There” showcases Surman in a masterclass of bass clarinet playing – one of the more difficult instruments to play in terms of tone and fluidity – which he handles deftly. Not only that, he creates an unusual drama in the piece. “A Messenger Is Born” begins with a reference to “gorgeously flowing music” and, true to form, finds Ban leading with an unhurried, calming piano solo and gathering some gentle momentum when his trio mates join, only to carefully move toward a solemn whisper. “Dark Forest,” with techniques from contemporary classical and chamber music, follows similarly, though it has some interruptive sequences.

The music on Cantica Profana is also visually evocative. In the title piece, the bass clarinet mimics one of the first woodwind instruments, the long, narrow alphorn, which has been used by shepherds in the highlands of Switzerland for generations. The bass clarinet melody joins a spirited dialogue of pizzicato viola and the hand-muted piano. The piece conjures the mountain dwellers and shepherds of the Carpathian Mountains communicating through sound and spirit. On “Evening in the Village,” the muted piano note rings under the microtonal viola to bring both Japanese Court Music and, later, a Moroccan melody. Maneri dug deep into the roots of his history and memories of his youth, when his father – the late master Joe Maneri – played a Greek Doina or Sephardic dance.  These transcultural linkages are all in furtherance of Bartok’s vision that there is “connective tissue” that ties all folk music around the globe. As the trio studied this music in various locales throughout Europe, they concluded that music moves ahead through rhythm, not harmony. It’s the flow, more than anything else, that they are after.

In their final bow, the trio delivers “Transylvanian Dance,” building the music to a crescendo, an ode to peasant dances that reaches a definitive finale. We fittingly hear the overwhelming audience response, aurally for the first time on the disc, and deservedly so.

In 1921, Bartók stated the following: “A future generation might conceivably discover and embody in their art music properties of the peasant music which have altogether escaped us.” How prescient a statement.

‘Cantica Profana – The Béla Bartók Field Recordings’ will be released on September 5, 2025 on Sunnyside Records. It can be purchased on Bandcamp.