* Bonus CD-ROM contains song texts and a specially commissioned essay exploring Haydn’s music, genre by genre, by the renowned Haydn authority, Richard Wigmore.
* New recordings of bayton trios and other chamber works made especially for this set and not previously released.

R E V I E W:

HAYDN Collected Works (incomplete) & • Various conductors, soloists, and ensembles • BRILLIANT 93782 (150 CDs: c. 150:00:00)

& CD-ROM with song texts and Richard Wigmore essay

This “Haydn Edition” is not the complete Haydn, nor is it intended to be. It is a collection of what Brilliant Classics had in their catalog and what was available for licensing. It does include many first recordings, of which more later. Let’s start by noting what is missing among the best-known works. The string quartets, played by the Buchberger Quartet, do not include op. 50 (4–6), op. 54, or op. 76 (4–6). Of the final six masses, only the Paukenmesse and Harmoniemesse are here. Four operas are included, leaving 10 unrepresented: La canterina, Lo speziale, Le pescatrici, Philomon und Baucis, L’incontro improvviso, Il mondo della luna, L’isola dishabitata, Orlando Paladino, Armida, and Orfeo ed Euridice. Missing, too, are the oratorio Applausus, the cantatas Arianna a Naxos and Berenice, che fai, and almost all of the smaller religious and secular vocal/choral pieces (other than songs); the many minuets, dances, and marches; large numbers of divertimentos, cassations, scherzandos, and Feldparthia (which include some early works once labeled string quartets). The Seven Last Words appears in three arrangements as oratorio, string quartet, and fortepiano solo, but not in its original orchestral form. Brilliant Classics wisely ignores almost all of the works merely “attributed to Haydn.”

Now let’s concentrate on what is here. This will be a summary review: I have heard and reviewed perhaps one third of these performances before; I have only sampled the 126 baryton trios on 20 CDs and the several hundred Scottish and Welsh Songs that I had not previously reviewed. The packaging is very neat: each CD is in a numbered, thin-cardboard envelope, with track listings, the whole packed in an easy-opening heavy cardboard box. The inside of the lid (on display when open) lists the contents of each of the 150 CDs. The individual CD envelopes are color coded into eight categories: symphonies (33 discs), concertos (7), vocal/choral works (20), songs (21), string quartets (20), piano trios (10), baryton trios and octets, works for lute, concertinos and divertimentos, violin sonatas (24), and keyboard sonatas (15). A CD-ROM containing 139-pages of generic notes in five languages plus many sung texts (but no opera librettos) concludes the inventory.

The 106 symphonies (including “A” and “B”) and the Sinfonia concertante are Adam Fischer’s first recordings, using modern instruments, recorded over 14 years (1987–2001) by Nimbus in the Haydnsaal of the Esterházy palace in Eisenstadt. The earliest recordings—the late symphonies—are not very good, but both the performances and the recorded sound got better year by year, and most of the early and middle symphonies are excellent. These recordings have achieved two Classical Hall of Fame nominations in Fanfare 28:6 and 32:2.

The piano concertos (Hob XIII:11, 4, and 3) and violin concertos (Hob VIIa:1, 4, and 2) are played by a gorgeous period-instrument ensemble, L’Arte dell’Arco. Jolanda Violante’s fortepiano is equally lovely, and she delivers spirited, sensitive performances. Her phrasing is individual enough to spark interest but never too much so, and she adds her own touches to the cadenzas. The violin concertos are more problematical. Right from the opening ritornello, the phrasing is stiff and square, and yet the tonal beauties of the ensemble and of Federcio Guglielmi’s 1757 Gennaro Gagliano violin are exquisite. There is more life and sunshine in the recent Naxos recordings (Fanfare 32:1), even though the modern instruments of the Cologne Chamber Orchestra are less appealing. The two issues complement each other.

The Organ Concertos (Hob XVII:1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 10) are played by Anton Holzapfel, with Ensemble Dolce Risonanza (an aptly named period-instruments ensemble) led by Florian Wieninger. The trumpets and drums of two C-Major concertos ring out gloriously in the extremely live acoustics of churches in Vienna and Eisenstadt—we are not told what was recorded in which church. All the performances are excellent. Filling out these two CDs are the Double Concerto for Violin and Organ, Hob XVII:6, with Susanne Sholz joining the performers, and—a special delight—13 brief pieces for flute-clock (Hob XIX), played by Holzapfel with convincing flute and wind stops.

Alan Stringer plays the Trumpet Concerto, with Neville Marriner and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields; Herman Baumann plays the two horn concertos, with Iona Brown leading the Academy. These 1994 Decca and 1989 Philips recordings enshrine well-played but conservative modern-instrument performances. The two cello concertos are 1972 Decca recordings, by Christine Walevska and the English Chamber Orchestra under Edo de Waart; everything is wrong with the lifeless performances. The five concertos for two lire organizzate (Hob VIIh) are usually played by a flute and an oboe, with six strings and two horns; the program notes on the CD-ROM say that is the case here, but in this Vox recording Hugo Ruf does play a lira—possibly there was only one such instrument operative at the time. Described as a “hurdy-gurdy with sympathetic strings and an inbuilt organ,” only the latter comes through: a miniature flute-like organ with a very limited range. The instrument produces loud clicking noises in cadenza-like passages, but it is worth hearing, and Haydn’s 1786 music is wonderful.

Thirteen CDs of choral music bring us seven masses (Nos. 1, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, and 14), both Salve reginae, the Stabat mater, The Creation, The Seasons, the Seven Last Words, and Il ritorno di Tobia. All but the last two are the old Vox recordings. The masses are dull recordings of mediocre performances, about what one would hear in a Vienna church on Sunday, suitable for the service or for a musical visit but far from competitive on discs. The 1771 Salve regina in G Minor, led by Frieder Bernius, is a lovely if old-fashioned performance. The same may be said for Bernius’s Stabat mater, a work that often can turn sour in either modern or period-instrument performances. The Creation and The Seasons are decent performances that do not cut it among today’s many superb recordings. Stick with Thomas Hengelbrock (Deutsche Harmonia Mundi) for the former and René Jacobs (Harmonia Mundi) for the latter, both period performances. This Il ritorno di Tobia, a 1971 Hungaroton recording, suffers from some glacial tempos, and one of the soloists reminds me of Florence Foster Jenkins. Search the Internet for Dorati’s magnificent recording, Decca 440 038 (3 CDs). A 2002 recording of The Seven Last Words, led by Nicol Matt, is routine, with some shaky solo singing.

There are four operas here, three led by Frank van Koten in the early 1990s—none of them performances I have previously encountered. Die Feuerbrunst, a comic German Singspiel in two acts, is an absolute winner, one of the joys of this set. A 1976 live performance on two Pan LPs made little impression. Here it bursts with energy, wit, and charm; high horns and drums blaze away during vivacious, grand choruses. The Esterházy Orchestra and Chorus are superb; all five soloists not only sing beautifully but also invest their roles with plenty of character. The lack of a libretto hurts—I have never found one. The notes give brief hints about this low-comedy delight. The same ensemble, with different soloists, gave a live performance of La fedeltŕ premiata in the Esterházy castle at Eisenstadt (September 14 and 15, 1994). Again the results are brilliant, the recorded sound a bit too much so, in the ultra-bright acoustic of the Haydnsaal. A lot of stage noise, as well as applause, is present, but this performance is so exciting that one easily gets past the problems. The finale disappoints slightly; everyone was probably exhausted. La vera costanza is a 1990 studio recording, this time with the Dutch ensemble Catharijne Consort. The performance is excellent, but the opera lacks the wit and panache of Haydn’s other comedies. Rosina’s minor-key aria in act II and the lengthy chain finales of acts I and II (17 and 16 minutes) are the highlights; all look forward to Mozart. L’infedeltŕ delusa is a 1975 Hungaroton issue led by Sándor Frigyes, probably the finest recording of Haydn’s most popular opera. The orchestra is satisfactory, the singing excellent. Soprano Júlia Pászthy’s warm, liquid, smoothly produced tones should have made her an international star.

Beginning in 1795, Haydn wrote accompaniments for some Scottish folk songs (many of which were recently composed frauds, but that’s another story). The results were so commercially successful that he was commissioned again and again to write more arrangements; he seemed to like the easy work, and it paid well, so he continued until 1803. Some of the later ones were subcontracted to pupils; we still don’t know which. The earliest were bare-bones accompaniments, but most contain some original music, “conceived as a full piano trio texture with independent introductions and postludes” (H. C. Robbins Landon). See Fanfare 29:3 for my review of five of these 18 CDs, including more discussion of the circumstances and the results. There are 435 songs here (thank goodness word processors can add!), 62 of them Welsh folk songs, the remainder Scottish. They are sung nicely by soprano Lorna Anderson and tenor Jamie MacDougal, accompanied by Haydn Trio Eisenstadt (where they were recorded). English texts appear for apparently all the folk songs, on 186 closely spaced pages!

Haydn’s solo songs with keyboard accompaniment (Hob XXVIa) are late works, the first dozen Lieder written in 1780 and 1781, the remaining songs from 1790 to 1803. Elly Ameling sings them all, accompanied by Jörg Demus on a modern piano, with which he sometimes gives a convincing imitation of a fortepiano. These are 1980 recordings released on three Philips LPs. The Dutch soprano was one of the most highly admired Lieder singers of her time; the voice is beautiful, the singing elegant, and her command of English seems excellent, but her English songs are rather characterless, not only the 12 canzonettas to Anne Hunter’s poetry but also Shakespeare’s She Never Told Her Love. Ameling’s Lieder and the two Italian songs are excellent. The set ends with Haydn’s magnificent Lied, Gott, erhalte den Kaiser!, which would become a string quartet movement and the anthem of nations and universities. Ameling does it full justice. The CD-ROM contains song texts in the sung languages only (the Philips three-LP set had Engish, German, and French, adding Italian for the two songs in that language).

Counting the Seven Last Words as one work, there are 60 of Haydn’s 69 String Quartets here. I have previously reviewed 39 of them (Fanfare 30: 5, 31:1, 31:5, 31:6, 32:1, and perhaps in this issue as well). The Buchberger plays period instruments at modern pitch; it boasts a gorgeous ensemble sound, with a silky first violin and a warm, solid cello; and its members have a fine feel for Haydn’s music. On the other hand, it tends to underplay staccato markings, skimming along in fast movements, and it often ignores second repeats in Sonata-Allegro movements. I had some problems with its op. 71/74 and op. 77, but its op. 20 quartets have become my first-choice recordings, and the rest have been very fine. The more I listen to Buchberger performances, the better I like them; they bristle with energy and revel in high spirits, even if their attacks are not always as clean as are those of some other ensembles. In the earlier quartets, through op. 33, the Buchberger makes my previous favorite period-instrument performances, by the Festetics and the Mosaďques, seem a bit cold and dry.

I am now listening to the Buchberger performances—21 quartets—that I have not previously reviewed. Its performances of op. 9 are similar to those of the London Haydn Quartet, which I praised so highly (“a gentle manner, emphasizing the beauty of the music”) in Fanfare 31:5. Hubert Buchberger’s first violin sings gloriously in the Largo of op. 9/3. Overly cool Menuets were the only problem with the Londoners; these are livelier. Most repeats are ignored; the English group observes all but those in Menuets da capo. I don’t miss the repeats that extend a Largo (in No. 5) and an Adagio (No. 6) to unwieldy lengths. In op. 64/3, the chugging rhythms of the opening Vivace assai are vibrantly realized by the Buchberger, although there are a couple of awkward transitions. All of op. 64/6 is a delight, its final Presto had everyone in this house smiling and laughing with joy. The Vivace finale to 64/5 is very enjoyable, but its fugal passages get a bit messy. The first three quartets of op. 50 are, if possible, even more delightful, so much fun that one must abandon criticism. Although all the quartets were recorded at the same site (Evangelische Burgkirche Nieder-Rosbach), the sound of the op. 55 quartets is a touch drier than the rest. The extra clarity may be intentional, aimed at the serious nature of the music (the Trio of the “Razor” Quartet’s Menuetto is pure tragedy, the opening Vivace assai of the B♭ Quartet equally grim). Tempos are slow throughout op. 55, and the sweetness of Buchberger’s violin disappears; seldom has this music felt so anguished. So far, all the performances discussed in this paragraph have replaced my previous favorites: the Panocha in op. 55, the Salomon in op. 64. I’m less pleased with the first three quartets of op. 76, which continue some of the harshness heard in op. 55. With that exception, the Buchberger performances—like the Adam Fischer symphonies—got better as the recording sessions proceeded (they are presented in this set in order of recording, as I have discussed them). There are, of course, many ways to play Haydn’s string quartets; but if I were limited to a single set of recordings, the Buchberger might well be it.

Forty-one piano trios are performed by the Van Swieten Trio; I have sampled about a dozen. Bart van Oort plays a potent, dusky fortepiano (by Job ter Haar, after Anton Walter). These period performances are tough and gutsy (sorry about that), genial and at times rustic, at the opposite end of the spectrum from the Beaux Arts Trio’s elegance and sweetness; the two excellent sets complement each other.

Jens Peter Larsen in The New Grove: “[I]t is part of [Haydn’s] greatness that he was able to display his extraordinary musicianship and inventiveness not only in the outstanding masterworks but also in more domestic pieces like the baryton trios.” Perhaps two dozen of them have been recorded before. Michael Brüssing’s baryton is the most colorful one I have heard, its sympathetically vibrating metal strings adding more than the usual twang. That, plus sympathetic colleagues on viola and cello, produces pleasing results. Most of the trios are in three movements; performance times run from 10 to 15 minutes. Earlier recordings concentrated on the later trios; the earliest ones do have some dull moments but are worth hearing nevertheless. The first 10 are in A Major; A and D—easy keys for the amateur Prince Nikolaus—predominate until the later trios, suggesting that the Prince eventually became more accomplished. I listened to about one trio in every five, finding many charming movements and considerable satisfaction; Trio No. 26 in G is wonderful throughout—rich, imaginative, and graceful. So is No. 30 in G. Was Haydn reveling in not having to write in A or D Major? No. 33 in A has a marvelous fugal Allegro finale, although it does generate some noisy action from the baryton. By this point, the music is more often interesting than not. No. 36 in D finds the wire strings plucked more often, and an Allegro molto is wild and forceful. Nevertheless, Robbins Landon was right to note that “even the fascination of the instrument palls after a while.” Although these pieces offer nothing for the audiophile, the bright, clean sound does help us appreciate this odd instrument. Since nearly 100 of these trio performances are premiere recordings, their existence and availability far outweigh my response to any one of them. Discover them for yourself!

I had never heard any of the seven baryton octets (Divertimentos for Eight Instruments, Hob X:1–6 and 12), at least not in their original form. A string quartet, violone, and two horns fill out the ensemble. They are three-movement pieces, stylistically consistent with the baryton trios, except that the horns often dominate the ensemble, sometimes with virtuoso passages. These period performances with natural horns were recorded at the Eisenstadt palace in 2006–2008 (as were the baryton trios); the Haydnsaal’s bright acoustics are immediately recognizable and contribute much to the overall flavor. Moderatos and Adagios, where the baryton comes into its own, predominate. Three of the octets have Presto finales, which are taken cautiously, probably for the hornists’ sake. A Quintet for baryton, two horns, viola, and bass, Hob X:10, is squeezed in among the octets. The next CD, an appendix to the baryton trios, brings us single movements or reconstructions of the missing trios, plus 20 very brief “movements” (from seven seconds to 20) for one or two barytons, alone or with other instruments. Although the notes say nothing about these, they are probably themes from missing works, taken from Haydn’s thematic catalog.

Next comes a CD (no. 132) of works for lute and strings, performed by Jakob Lindberg and the Drottningholm Baroque Ensemble (violin, viola, and cello). The lute’s distinctive tones and nimble movement make it a better solo presence than the baryton in these two cassations, (Hob III:1 and 6), Quarteto (Hob III:8), and Sonata a tre (Hob IV:F20). These 1987 BIS recordings are lovely. Two CDs are devoted to the four piano concertinos and five divertimentos (the titles are more or less interchangeable) that form Hob XIV, all with two violins and cello. Harold Kosik plays superbly, and his modern Steinway sounds gorgeous in the Haydnsaal, but the strings are dry and weak. A Naxos CD (Fanfare 30:5) has a well-balanced ensemble with fortepiano playing the concertinos; however, its extremely fast Prestos and Allegros obscure some details that are clearly executed here. You can’t go wrong with either choice for this delightful early Haydn. The second disc closes with a Sonata for Piano and Violin in G, Hob XV:32. I don’t know it and cannot locate it in The New Grove. It sounds nothing like Haydn to my ears, but who knows? CD 135 contains the six sonatas for violin and cello, Hob VI:1–6, Hungaroton recordings from 1992–93. The performances are square and unimaginative, the violin tone harsh.

Last comes the solo keyboard music, played on various fortepianos. Brilliant divides the 52 sonatas more or less evenly among five artists: Bart van Oort, Ursula Dütschler, Stanley Hoogland, Yoshiko Kojima, and Riko Fukuda; each gets to play one of the five great sonatas. The pianists are obviously connected: they share instruments from each other’s collections, Fukuda studied with Hoogland, and the sonatas were recorded at more or less continuous sessions in September and October of 2000 in an old Utrecht church now used as a museum. Five CDs of other keyboard pieces are played by van Oort, recorded in another Dutch church in 2007 and 2008. I recently reviewed (perhaps in this issue) Ronald Brautigam’s Haydn on BIS, also on 15 CDs. Brautigam’s fortepiano is far brighter than the ones used here, and also has more potent low notes; by comparison, it seems almost a piano. His playing of the faster movements tends to be more brilliant than the playing on this set; the Brilliant Classics performances tend to look back to the early sonatas, the BIS look forward. Yet there are notable differences among the fortepianists here: van Oort is conservative yet elegant, always on the money and never at odds with one’s expectations; Dütschler is just the opposite—her tempos can be slow, her phrasing square, and she has no use for legato. It’s a shock at first, but when one becomes accustomed to her ways, she throws some fascinating light on the sonatas she plays. When she reaches the well-known Hob XVI:49 in E♭, however, she reverts to a consensus interpretation. Fukuda plays stylishly except for the great C-Minor Sonata, Hob XVI:33. Her opening Moderato is very slow, she ignores most dynamic indications but exaggerates every other marking, inserts an unwritten little cadenza at one point and many uncalled-for pauses; then she ignores the second repeat. To my ears, she is playing the notes but not the music. Everyone plays most repeats except in Menuets da capo, but there are differences: Brautigam’s performances conform to my Dover scores, these do not. Van Oort plays a second repeat in the opening Allegro of Hob XVI:33 in D, one that is not indicated by Dover. Brautigam plays the second movement of Hob XVI:1 in C at Dover’s Andante (in 2:50); van Oort’s playing and label is Adagio (3:35). On at least one occasion, van Oort’s subtlety trumps Brautigam’s brilliance: In Hob XVI: 12 in A, the Menuet’s Trio switches to minor; van Oort observes the p and legato markings, and the moment is breathtaking; Bautigam plows ahead, and it passes almost unnoticed. Such comparisons are made difficult by the layouts of the two sets. BIS has the sonatas in chronological order (in so far as we know it), and its booklet specifies both the Landon number (1–62) and the Hoboken number for each. Brilliant has the sonatas organized by performer (two CDs for each), so the order is random; furthermore, individual envelopes list only the key and the Hoboken identification, making crosschecking and locating the score a frustrating, time-consuming exercise. Suffice to say that both sets are first-rate, and there is no way to choose between them.

In conclusion (whew!), this is not a set for the casual or novice Haydn listener: the late symphonies are not well played, and four of the six late masses (among Haydn’s greatest works) are missing. On the other hand, the set is a gem for the devoted Haydn enthusiast, who will already own favorite recordings of those works. Hundreds of less-known pieces—most of them marvelous music—are beautifully played, many recorded for the first time. Other than the late symphonies, the works recorded in the Haydnsaal at Eisenstadt maintain high standards of performance and recorded sound. The newly recorded period-instrument performances are generally very fine; the licensed reissues of modern instruments generally not. The set may be had for roughly one dollar per disc at many sites on the Internet.

FANFARE: James H. North