Search results: Search results

58 results

Products

Vaughan Williams: Symphony No 8, Job / Boult

ICA Classics

DVD

$26.99 Oct 25, 2011

VAUGHAN WILLIAMS Symphony No. 8. Job • Adrian Boult, cond; London PO • ICA ICAD 5037 (DVD: 73:05) Live: London 12/10/1972

To my knowledge, this is the first time this entire concert has been issued intact. Previously the Eighth Symphony appeared on a DVD (now out of print) with a performance from a concert eight months earlier of the Beethoven Violin Concerto with these same forces and violinist Nathan Milstein. That disc was given a very tepid review by Jerry Dubins in Fanfare 31: 1, criticizing the Beethoven as “off skew” due to intonation lapses by Milstein and lack of proper synchronization between the audio and visual tracks, and a “solid but less than rafter-ringing” rendition of the Eighth Symphony. Here the symphony opens the concert, given to mark the centenary of the composer’s birth. While I would agree that it does not equal Boult’s own studio recording with the same orchestra for EMI made almost four years before, it is still an estimable reading in Boult’s distinctive style, which in this particular work is far more low-key and introspective than in the hands of some other conductors. A significant factor in the lesser degree of impact is the recorded perspective, which is rather distant; even turning up the volume knob on my stereo receiver could not give it a presence equal to the studio version. A remarkable feature is that this performance differs notably in conception from that set down by EMI, as can be seen by the respective timings—11:09, 3:55, 8:35, and 4:44 for the studio account versus 10:44, 4:11, 7:26, and 5:47 here, with the 10:44 of the first movement including almost a minute of introductory applause. The change in proportions—significantly faster in the first and third movements, and markedly slower in the fourth—gives the piece a rather different feel, though even after several hearings I am not sure how to describe it, as the variations between the two do not follow a consistent pattern. That there is a substantial difference is a sufficient point of interest in and of itself for admirers of this conductor’s art.

With Job the competition between the 1970 EMI studio version and this live performance is much closer; the overall timings and conceptions of the two are virtually identical, and here the live performance has more presence. This video version does offer one advantage its studio counterpart lacks; at the start of each section, it displays for several seconds the corresponding (and striking) drawings from William Blake’s Illustrations of the Book of Job that inspired the composer. Boult had a unique and authoritative association with this work; in 1934 the composer dedicated the work to him, and he made four studio recordings of it before any other conductor made even one. That alone would make this an invaluable historical document; that value is increased by the fact that, apart from the aforementioned Beethoven concerto and a Beethoven romance for violin and orchestra with Yehudi Menuhin, this disc contains what are to my knowledge the only commercially released filmed performances of the man who ranks alongside Thomas Beecham as one of the two greatest British conductors of the last century.

The film quality itself is excellent for its vintage; images and colors are as sharp and clear as the analog film technology of the periods allows, and there are no signs of film deterioration. Camerawork is discreet, appropriate in focus, and free from the jittery itch of some current film producers to jump about every few seconds. Boult himself, 83 at the time, comes on stage slowly but not at all stiffly. Like Charles Munch he favors a fishing-pole length baton, but unlike the French maestro his movements are restrained, economical, and graceful rather than feverishly energetic, the very image of English patrician nobility. But do not mistake a lack of theatrical demonstrativeness for artistic dullness; this is music-making of great integrity and conviction. To fans of Vaughan Williams and Boult alike, this release is unhesitatingly recommended, particularly for the fine account of Job.

FANFARE: James A. Altena

View Full Page

Vaughan Williams: Symphony No 8, Job / Boult
ICA Classics Oct 2011
DVD
$26.99

Cyprien Katsaris Archives, Vol. 8: Schubert

Piano 21

$32.99 Jul 19, 2011

LISZT Hungarian Rhapsodies: Nos. 2, 3, 5, 7. Elegies: Nos. 1, 2. Liebestraum No. 3. Klavierstücke: Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Trauervorspiel und Trauermarsch. Unstern! Nuages gris. La Lugubre gondola Nos. 1, 2. R.W.—Venezia. Am Grabe Richard Wagners. Piano Sonata in b. Piano Concerto No. 2 1 • Cyprien Katsaris (pn); 1 Arild Remmereit (cond); 1 Deutches SO Berlin • PIANO 21 014-N (2 CDs: 137:51)

SCHUBERT Klavierstücke, D 946: Nos. 1, 2. Ländler, D 366: Nos. 1 (2 versions); 2–5, 10, 13. Ländler, D 790: Nos. 3, 4, 7, 8, 11. Deutsche Tänze, D 420: Nos. 1, 3, 4. Piano Sonata in B?, D 960. SCHUBERT-LISZT Ständchen. Der Müller und der Bach. Ave Maria & • Cyprien Katsaris (pn) • PIANO 21 P21 042A (2 CDs: 103:27) Live: 7/3/93

& KATSARIS Improvisation on Themes of Tchaikovsky and Wagner. BACH Concerto in d, BWV 974: Adagio

“When I heard that recording, I was afraid to play the piece again—I will not play it again”: That’s how the mature Cyprien Katsaris, in an interview with me last year, described his reaction on rehearing this scorching live performance of the Liszt Sonata, taped when he was a youngster of 22 (see Fanfare 34:5). At the time, I wondered just how hyperbolic he was being. Now that I’ve had a chance to hear the performance—which concludes his two-CD Liszt sampler—I can easily understand why he feels that way. Granted, by the stopwatch (always unreliable, but especially so in a long work with dozens of tempo changes), this 29-minute reading is fairly centrist in overall timing. But it certainly doesn’t feel centrist. Rather, the overall effect is vertiginous—passages of almost terrifying impetus made even more ferocious by the extremity with which Katsaris plays many of the slower passages (try, for instance, the way he puts on the brakes as he approaches his arrival at measure 532, or the way he stretches the fermata before the Grandioso theme at measure 600). Yet for all the brinksmanship, for all the improvisatory bravura, there’s never a sense of approximation. Katsaris’s somewhat dry tone keeps the textures clear and his unerring control of articulation and accent keeps them active, with the result that the music consistently sounds both detailed and eventful. And in part because he has such a good sense of the music’s emotional architecture (including a sure understanding of the dramatic purpose of the recitatives), the music has a consistent sense of direction. This reading may not have the intellectual acuity of Steven Hough’s or the volcanic integrity of Ernst Levy’s or the depth of Richter’s many recordings. But for sheer adrenaline, the young Katsaris is a match for Simon Barere, and for sheer imagination, he’s got him beat.

The performance is doubly effective because it comes at the end of a recital that generally offers a rather different vision of both Liszt and Katsaris. Granted, once past the deceptively pensive opening, the high-speed performance of the Second Concerto is similarly searing—especially in the brilliant cascades in the final pages. Here, too, Katsaris ups the emotional ante with his careful articulation, which gives an unusually detailed profile to the musical gestures. And here too he manages to heighten things further with his extreme contrast (try the luxury of the Allegro moderato ). Granted, too, no one is likely to accuse him of underplaying the second Hungarian Rhapsody. But most of the rest of the performances—as befits the repertoire—are notable less for their razzle-dazzle than for their acute understanding of Liszt’s subtler rhetoric.

Thus, it’s not simply that Katsaris captures (even heightens) the strangeness of the radical late scores. More than that, the recording stands out because he manages to do so without turning the music abstract or damping its remaining romantic tendencies. Thus, he fully conveys the obsessive qualities of La Lugubre Gondola I —but he does so without losing the music’s sense of motion. Similarly, there’s no attempt to normalize La Lugubre Gondola II —but there’s no loss of the passionate desperation at its core. Listen to the marvelous tonal effects (including the artful pedaling) in Am Grabe or to the tremendous control of dynamics in the opening pages of the Trauervorspiel or to the disorienting contradictions of the Second Elegy (gloriously passionate, utterly bereft): Rarely has so strong a case been made for the emotional (as opposed to the experimental) qualities of these scores.

One caveat: As Patrick Rucker rightly pointed out in his knowledgeable review in Fanfare 35:4 (less enthusiastic than mine), this is not a collection for textual purists. The most startling deviation from the written score comes at the end of Trauervorspiel und Trauermarsch . Not only does Katsaris add a sonic halo to Liszt’s stark original, but he also throws in a striking effect: Just as the final sustained wash of sound seems to be dying away, it suddenly builds a crescendo. Can a piano really crescendo on a sustained sound? It certainly sounds as if there has been some electronic intervention, but in a series of e-mails Katsaris told me that it was a purely acoustical phenomenon created by the pedals. In any case, while it’s not quite what Liszt wrote, it does (at least to my ears) fit the mood of the music.

The sound varies according to the sources, but it’s generally good, and the studio performances—all of which are new—are a lot better than that. In the Second Concerto, the orchestra provides unusually rich and colorful support.

Schubert demands a rather different approach—and on this recital from 1993, he gets it. These are, on the whole, brightly illuminated performances, dryish in tone and often impulsive (although never rushed) in tempo. Thus, while the sonata is surely one of Schubert’s grander creations, there’s none of Horowitz’s intensity; indeed, Katsaris nearly whispers the third movement, and he offers a generally sunlit account of the finale. Yet for all the clarity, there’s no lack of melodic beauty (listen to the flexible melodic curls of the second of the Klavierstücke ), of timbral sensitivity ( Ständchen is exquisite), or (especially in his collection of Ländler and dances) of succulence and wit. Katsaris’s own fantasy on themes by Tchaikovsky (mainly Swan Lake ) and Wagner ( Tannhäuser , although Lohengrin might have been more fitting) is a delightful first encore—but the eloquent reading of the Bach, with its utter purity and peace, brings the recital to an even higher plane. Not quite as ear-catching as the Liszt recital, perhaps, but well worth owning even so.

FANFARE: Peter J. Rabinowitz

View Full Page

Cyprien Katsaris Archives, Vol. 8: Schubert
Piano 21 Jul 2011
CD
$32.99

Bartok & Kodaly: The Complete String Quartets

Foghorn Classics

$37.99 Jan 01, 2013

BARTÓK String Quartets No. 1–6. KODÁLY String Quartets Nos. 1 and 2 • Alexander Str Qrt • FOGHORN 2009 (3 CDs: 205:55)

This fascinating set combines the string quartets of two then-young professors of music in Hungary, Béla Bartók and Zoltan Kodály. It’s an interesting set even though Bartók wrote a half-dozen quartets, which have since become staples of string quartets around the world, whereas Kodály only wrote two which are not as frequently programmed. Nor are the Kodály quartets as frequently recorded: ArkivMusic lists only one other recording of the First Quartet, by the Kontra Quartet (BIS 564), and only seven other recordings of Kodály’s No. 2, of which three are historical performances (the Végh Quartet, 1951, on Orfeo 316931; the Hungarian Quartet, 1952, on Music & Arts; and the Hollywood String Quartet, 1958, on Testament). Bartók beat Kodály to his First Quartet by a matter of months, the premiere occurring on January 27, 1909. Both composers worked on their second quartets during the harsh period of the First World War, and both works also had their premieres in 1918. For whatever reason, Kodály stopped at this point, whereas Bartók wrote four more quartets.

Comparing the Emerson Quartet’s performances of the First and Third Bartók quartets to the Alexander’s (I really didn’t have time to do the entire set, but these two quartets provide a good basis, the First being from Bartók’s earlier period and the Third coming from 1927), I found interesting if subtle points of comparison. But my Fanfare colleague Art Lange, upon reviewing the Emerson set when it was reissued in 2007, went even further back, comparing it to the performances of the Hungarian Quartet, and noted the earlier group’s “looser, albeit dramatic approach” in which the Hungarians “take a few liberties with pauses and tempos” and “have a better feel for the folk elements,” though—and I stress this—the earlier group tended to lessen “the accumulated tension” and “exaggerate more of the mysterious and atmospheric passages.” This trend, then, is simply turned up a notch in intensity and continuity by the Alexander, bringing us a tad further forward from the folk style that Bartók used.

With the Third Quartet, Bartók’s most astringent, compact, and dense work of the six, the style of playing is virtually identical in the case of both the Emerson and the Alexander: sonorities are lean, attacks are sharp, and the musical contours angular. There aren’t many interpretive options in this particular piece. But in the First Quartet (as well as in the first movement of the Second, which I also compared), there are decided differences in approach and style. The Emerson employs particularly broad tempos in the opening movement of the First Quartet, taking a leisurely 9:16 compared to the Alexander’s 8: 30. There is also greater warmth in the Emerson’s sound: whether this is a condition of their actual timbres or simply advantageous microphone placement, I don’t know. Of course, the leaner, brighter quality of the Alexander’s recording is entirely appropriate to modern music, particularly the modern music that emerged after Bartók’s death, and even within the context of these six quartets their performances set a very high standard.

As an example, I felt that the Alexander’s performance of the First Quartet’s opening movement, though less leisurely in feeling, has a tensile quality that immerses the listener in Bartók’s unique sound world and holds your attention. It is almost as if the Alexander’s players had the entire score in their heads, could “see” the music progressing as one continuous flow from first note to last, and thus propelled it into the ether for the benefit of the microphones. They do not, thankfully, play mechanically, the music being produced with almost explosive energy and drama. Yet if one goes by timings, the evidence is not always in the Emerson’s favor. The Alexander nearly always takes the fast movements just as fast if not faster than the Emerson, whereas their slow movements are generally (but not always) more relaxed, an exception being the Lento Finale of the Second Quartet, which the Emerson explores in 9:18 while the Alexander gets it done in 7: 38. As I say, tempos do not always indicate phrasing, but a performance nearly two minutes shorter simply has to be taken faster. What’s interesting, however, is that by and large the Alexander’s performance only sounds a little faster, and once again it ties this movement into the overall fabric—the continuity—of the Quartet as a whole.

The Alexander also finds moments of repose within their forward momentum; it’s just that their moments of repose are subtler, less easily discernible as pauses in the music (comparing it to literature, one might say commas in the musical sentences). To a large extent, Bartók’s six quartets are the 20th-century equivalent of Beethoven’s late quartets, and one can most certainly make a generalization between the way earlier string quartets such as the Rosé played them—with a certain amount of gemütlich, more portamento than we are used to today, and more astringent string tone due to the musicians’ more frequent (but not constant) use of straight tone—and the way we’ve come to hear them since the days of the Budapest Quartet, surely the first “modern” string quartet in terms of tautness and ensemble virtuosity, and the Yale Quartet, whose 1961 recordings of these thorny works set new standards. We simply can’t go back to the Rosé Quartet and hear their performances of Beethoven as being within our conception of the music; yet both as a quartet leader and as concertmaster of the Vienna Philharmonic, Arnold Rosé’s artistry and integrity as a musician was utterly beyond question.

I mention this in connection to these performances because it is not only an interesting artistic topic, but also valid in evaluating the evolution of musical performances in the 20th century and beyond. Bartók’s Fourth Quartet, composed in 1928, was in fact dedicated to the Pro Arte Quartet. I daresay that only diehard collectors of vintage performances will be familiar with Pro Arte’s style (they recorded an extensive series of Haydn quartets for HMV in the 1930s, a project ended by the onset of war, and also performed frequently both on and off records with pianist Artur Schnabel), but they were somewhere between the Rosé and the Budapest Quartets. There is a more consistent vibrato, fine and rapid but still discernible, in their playing than in the case of the Rosé, but also a slightly more relaxed rhythmic feel, a bit more give-and-take, than we hear in the playing of the Budapest and the many quartets that followed them. (I should point out that I heard the Hungarian Quartet in person playing Beethoven in 1970, but this was a later edition of this famous group and their style, too, had evolved into a more consistent forward momentum by then, not like their style of the 1950s.)

Checking on the artists’ own website (foghornclassics.com), I was startled to read in a review by Lisa Hirsch of the San Francisco Classical Voice that the Alexander’s live performance of one of the Bartók quartets was “introverted,” without “neglecting the work’s varying moods.” Introverted is not a word I’d apply to these explosive performances. They are indeed fantastic, although I would caution that Bartók’s continual intensity, as well as the extraordinarily dense harmonies and counterpoint, make listening to all six quartets in one sitting a tough go. I would suggest hearing two quartets at a time, separated by either periods of silence or less challenging music. Listening to even three of these works in one session is rather like listening to a full 70-minute CD of Art Tatum. The concentrated complexity of the music that unfolds can tire even a seasoned listener like myself out.

Then we turn to the Kodály quartets, less familiar works surely (this was the first time I had ever heard them), but once again we can make certain generalizations regarding the Alexander’s performances of them as based on the details and style one hears in their Bartók. Even the earlier Quartet No. 1 is given a taut, clean reading, bringing it close in style to Bartók’s own work. Of course, Kodály was his own man: although he assisted Bartók in recording and cataloguing Magyar folk melodies, and used some of their features in his own work, he was more consistent in writing longer, less sharply angular melodies. In short, Kodály’s music sings more, a factor that surely attracted more conductors of his time to perform his music during the 1920s and 1930s than was often Bartók’s fate. In this respect, Kodály’s quartets are a bit closer in general conception (but not exact details) to Janá?ek, whose quartets actually “sing” more than his operas. Listen particularly to the slow movements here: Kodály’s music, and the Alexander’s playing of it, are exceptionally lovely and moving in addition to being musically clean. Once again, as in their Bartók, the Alexander has found a way of bringing out the music’s tender side when tenderness is called for—which is more frequently in these Kodály works.

The list price of this set is $29.96, which breaks down to $9.93 per CD, a very reasonable price in this modern era, but the Alexander’s website indicates that Allegro Music is selling the set for $23.97 (which you can order directly from them), which breaks down to $7.99 per disc, bringing it into line with a budget label such as Naxos. I still like the Emerson’s recordings of the Bartók, but as a total package this one is irresistible. If you’ve put off buying a set of the Bartók quartets until now, and/or don’t have any recordings of the Kodály, you can’t go wrong with this collection. It is, quite simply, terrific.

FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

View Full Page

Bartok & Kodaly: The Complete String Quartets
Foghorn Classics Jan 2013
CD
$37.99

Brian: Orchestral Music, Vol. 1 / Garry Walker, Bbc Scottish Symphony

Toccata

$20.99 May 10, 2011

Will be one of my discs of the year without doubt.

I have to admit to this being the disc I have most eagerly awaited hearing for some months. That being the case I am delighted to be able to report that it has fulfilled all my expectations if not exceeded them – let us all hope that the titling of this as ‘Volume 1’ really does augur well for an extended series of discs by this unique composer.

In recent years there has been a steady trickle of Brian’s orchestral works appearing on CD but when you dig a little deeper it becomes clear that these are in effect re-releases of performances where the originals date back some years. So in fact it is nearly ten years since the last ‘new’ recording – Psalm 23 on ClassicO [recorded 2002], then back into the 1990s for the abortive Marco Polo/Naxos ‘Brian Cycle’, the 1980s for EMI’s brief flurry of interest using the RLPO, and the 1970s for the Leicestershire and Hull Schools Symphony Orchestra’s brave traversal of several discs with Unicorn-Kanchana and CBS. This is by no means a complete survey but it gives you a sense of the piece-meal attempts to commit Brian to disc.

Toccata Classics are proving to be valiant disciples of the Brian cause both on disc and in print. Recently I had the pleasure of reviewing the superb Havergal Brian on Music: Volume Two which Toccata have published. Both that project and this have been instigated under the watchful eye and guiding hand of the Havergal Brian Society and Brian expert Malcolm MacDonald. As part of the book review I commented - has ever a composer been so fortunate in their biographer / promoter as Brian with MacDonald? His knowledge, insight and understanding of this shamelessly idiosyncratic composer is little short of stupendous. That sense of dedication suffuses every element of this recording from the fascinating choice of repertoire on this well programmed CD to the fine engineering supporting excellent playing from the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra.

I have to admit that I have not heard any of this music before so I have no frame of reference with which to compare the current performances. Suffice to say there is an air of ‘rightness’ and conviction that is vital to bringing off this often quirky music. Having read the two volumes of Brian’s critical writings has only increased my appreciation of him as a composer. I have a suspicion that even among his more famous composer contemporaries he was the most knowledgeable about the latest developments in the musical scene. His journalistic writing shows him as an enthusiastic supporter of an extraordinarily wide and diverse range of then contemporary music. This, to my mind, adds significantly to his stature as a composer in his own right for instead of producing a mish-mash of musical influences his own work remains strikingly independent. It is well-known that he was largely self-taught as a composer but the choices he makes; structurally, harmonically or melodically are never made through ignorance instead they are guided by a quirky individualism. And therein lies the rub for the listener new to his sound-world; it can often seem that musical material is juxtaposed in a random and almost obtuse manner. Here is where Malcolm MacDonald proves to be such a valuable guide. Whether in this liner or in his definitive 3 volume study of the Brian Symphonies he makes it clear that in what might initially seem ramshackle and even chaotic there is actually a very sophisticated control of form and structure. Brian is dancing to a different tune and it can take the listener some time to ‘hear’ his message. Conductor Garry Walker has become fully attuned to the Brian idiom. As mentioned before these are strikingly confident and convincing performances – orchestras are phenomenally skilled these days but to project such security and conviction as is heard throughout this disc requires those exact same qualities to be projected from the conductor’s podium. It is rare indeed that such complex and demanding music is first heard played as here and it adds considerably to the positive impact of the disc. On the evidence of this disc Walker proves himself to be an interpreter of distinction.

Another remarkable thought is the fact that the works performed here span an astonishing 65 years. The earliest work is the 1903 Burlesque Variations on an Original Theme. Never performed in Brian’s lifetime this is its first professional performance. But why? Some Brian can be tough to digest on first sitting but not this work – it has instant appeal. Written when Brian was 27 it represents his first effort at large-scale orchestral composition. He scored the work for a large romantic orchestra with triple wind, standard brass – but including four trumpets – extended percussion, two harps and organ. Lasting some twenty-five minutes and consisting of a theme and seven variations this is a well balanced and fascinatingly wide-ranging piece. Yes there are moments where the orchestration feels opaque and indeed clumsy but these are repeatedly offset by passages of remarkable power, mystery and beauty. Why Burlesque Variations? – MacDonald offers a fascinating opinion; variation form recurs often in Brian’s works and usually he chose to take a banal/simple tune and then expand the seemingly limited potential of that melody beyond all expectation. Hence the Fantastic Variations of 1907 – based on ‘Three Blind Mice’ or The Symphonic Variations of 1916 – based on ‘Has anybody here seen Kelly?’ are just two examples. It is as if Brian is trying a kind of alchemy transforming the base material of a simple song into musical gold. Yes, the influences are often clearer here than in later Brian and clearly Elgar provided a model but I am pushed to think of any other work by a twenty-seven year old British composer from around the turn of that century of such confident quality. Although I know others will disagree I find Josef Holbrooke’s music to have an empty bombast and reliance on musical effect to which Brian never resorts while York Bowen is interesting and appealing but never challenging in the way Brian is. The closing pages of these variations do try to lift the simple tune onto a grandiose level which is beyond both the melody and the composer (at this stage in his career) but elsewhere there are brilliantly achieved musico-dramatic effects. Try Variation 2 – Tempesto and the simply gorgeously poignant Variation 3 – Elegy that follows. The latter is the emotional heart of the work and opens as a gently regretful valse triste very much in the style of the Nedbal or Sibelius works of that name before building to a powerful strenuous climax way outside the remit of those pieces. The return to the reflective opening is typical Brian in the rapid change of emotional direction before he builds it back to a climax of cinematic splendour. Subtle it is not but hard the heart not to be moved on some level – I love it. Curiously the London publisher Bosworth published the suite which contains Nedbal’s work in 1903 and it became the composer’s biggest hit. But the similarity is one of form nothing more. But it does point up another fact worth considering here; Brian’s music never sounds “English” in the pastoral sense of the word. More ‘stout and steaky’ than ‘cowpat’.

Chronologically, the next work on the disc dates from exactly fifty years later. How typically perverse of Brian in austerity Britain to produce a work that by title alone would seem to belong to the light music world of Edward German or Percy Fletcher. For sure this is lighter music than much of Brian’s output but it has far more substance and muscle than the bulk of the light music repertoire. Not that it is at all in tune with the prevailing trends in 1950s contemporary music either. Again, one has the abiding sense of Brian writing music that suited himself when it suited him. This proves to be another piece of instant appeal with the heart of the work being the second movement Reverie. Throughout the whole work and the orchestral writing – angularly expressive but with awkward parts for solo instruments and some thrilling brass scoring – there is a scale and sweep that is very impressive. Clearly this is not meant to be a work uttering the profoundest thoughts and feelings of the composer but it does show the confidence and expertise with which Brian handled his resources. I would suggest ignoring the titles – I couldn’t help wondering if Brian has used such deliberately twee and diminutive headings in a provocative and ironic manner. Here is another curious parallel – the central pair of movements are scored first for strings alone – the aforementioned Reverie, and then wind and horns - Restless Stream. Vaughan Williams did much the same in his almost exactly contemporaneous Symphony No.8 – although the wind scherzo comes first before the string Cavatina. Not that we can accuse Vaughan Williams of any kind of plagiarism – Brian’s Suite was not to be heard for twenty years (neither can the accusation be reversed – the Vaughan Williams was not premiered until 1956). The closing Village Revels is also the final music on the disc – again ignore the title, this is quite unlike any revel I can imagine but it provides an exciting conclusion to all the works here.

MacDonald explains Brian’s recurring use of the term Elegy to describe movements or individual works. This was the title ultimately given to a 1954 composition originally called A song of sorrow. Brian renamed it some sixteen years later when reassessing his back catalogue with a view to publication. The rationale being that the original title implied a kind of emotional one-dimension that does not encompass the full range of this very impressive work. MacDonald points towards a definition that encompasses both the classical laments of Ovid and the romantic poetic works of Goethe and others. As a critic Brian wrote enthusiastically about Busoni and MacDonald sees a link with such works as that composer’s Nocturne Symphonique or the Sarabande and Cortege. But influence or inspiration is all this link should be seen as. Again Brian has produced a work as striking in its individuality as its expressive power. Jagged and rugged energy courses through this work. There are more of the typical Brian Symphonic fingerprints here, a sense of a restless quest the music searching and unstable. Yet at the same time there is an underlying feel of something grand and ceremonial. MacDonald sees it as a long slow struggle from C minor to the light of C major. Elsewhere on the disc I am a little uneasy about Brian’s penchant for almost hyper-active percussion writing. By my reckoning the percussion should point a moment in the score – dynamic alone need not be a factor – for Brian there seems to be a percussive ‘happening’ in nearly every bar. But here, massed side-drums set against tip-toeing xylophone creates some rather special effects. Again I have nothing but praise for the bravura confidence of the playing of the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra. There is some truly thrilling brass writing here dispatched with total aplomb. Much as I enjoy the discovery of the Variations on this disc if I had to choose one work to represent Brian it would be this Elegy. As this represents its first recording I would suggest that that alone is enough to merit buying this disc.

My only relative musical disappointment on this disc was with the Legend: Ave atque vale which opens it. In its own right it is remarkable because it is the work of a ninety two year old man. The title which means ‘hail and farewell’ is taken from Catallus’ poetic elegy to his drowned brother written in about 56 BC. MacDonald describes it as being ‘crammed to bursting point with disparate ideas’ which is a sympathetic way of saying perhaps it has not been edited or structured with as much discipline as earlier works. To my ear – given that this is NOT a judgment borne of extended familiarity – it sounds too rambling and disparate in its elements. Here the percussion has an absolute field day throughout without really justifying their continuous presence in musical terms. Possibly this is the kind of work that Brian’s detractors might single out as showing his weaknesses. However, it has the great good sense not to outstay its welcome and by representing just seven minutes of over an hour of vintage Brian no collector need hesitate on this piece’s account. On a positive note it does act as an extraordinary tribute to the undying vitality and individuality of Brian to very end of his long life.

Hopefully, it will be clear by now that I consider this a very special disc – exactly the kind of high quality combination of rare repertoire, performance and technical presentation that collectors hope for. For those as yet unfamiliar with the Havergal Brian I think this could act as an excellent introduction. On the recent Testament release of the famous Boult/BBC performance of Brian’s legendary Gothic Symphony the disc concludes with an interview with the composer where he underlines the fact that he wrote music with little or no expectation of hearing it performed. Instead he was responding a personal creative imperative that could not be denied. How gratified he would be to know that finally his music is beginning to receive the attention is deserves. A Volume 2 from this same team is essential and this current disc will be one of my discs of the year without doubt.

-- Nick Barnard, MusicWeb International

View Full Page

Brian: Orchestral Music, Vol. 1 / Garry Walker, Bbc Scottish Symphony
Toccata May 2011
CD
$20.99

Lorraine at Emmanuel / Lieberson

Avie Records

$9.99 ~~$19.99~~ Save 50% Apr 01, 2008

"When the Wigmore Hall Live label released an archival recording of a 1998 recital by the great mezzo-soprano Lorraine Hunt Lieberson last year, it raised the hope of more such posthumous finds. And just as that hope had begun to fade, here comes another treasure, this one unearthed from the archives of Emmanuel Music in Boston.

As it happens, this release serves as tribute not only to Hunt Lieberson, who died in 2006, but also to her frequent close collaborator Craig Smith, the founder of Emmanuel Music, who died in November. And the material is choice: spacious arias from two Bach cantatas and extended excerpts from Handel’s oratorio “Hercules.”

The disc begins with a 1992 recording of the aria “Kommt ihr angefochtnen Sünder” from Bach’s Cantata No. 30: Something of a tease as the opening instrumental passage heightens the anticipation of Hunt Lieberson’s entrance, more than two minutes into the disc. But that glorious Voice, when it appears, meets every expectation.

The “Hercules” excerpts, from 1999, trace the travails of the hero’s wife, Dejanira, culminating in a harrowing mad scene.... Although Hunt Lieberson’s compelling stage presence added mightily to any performance, the voice alone amply conveys her characteristic intensity here....

Dare we hope for more?"

– James R. Oestreich, New York Times [8/10/2008]

The early death of Lorraine Hunt Lieberson deprived the world of an exceptional artist and one, moreover, who left all too few commercial recordings. However, some archive recordings are now beginning to emerge and this new release, featuring previously unissued live recordings is one such. The CD also forms a tribute to one of her mentors, Craig Smith, Music Director at Emmanuel Church, Boston from 1970 until his death in November 2007 at the age of sixty.

Smith founded Emmanuel Music, which, besides fulfilling a liturgical function at the church, evolved also into a concert ensemble of no little distinction. Perhaps Smith’s greatest achievement was to inaugurate the practice whereby each Sunday between October and April, the main Sunday morning church service includes a cantata by Bach appropriate to the day. That tradition continues to this day and later this year the thirty-ninth consecutive season of liturgical cantatas will commence.

It was through Emmanuel Music that the then Lorraine Hunt took some of the first steps on her solo singing career and she maintained the connection, I believe, for the rest of her life, including appearances in the Sunday cantata series. This disc, therefore, takes us back to her singing roots.

The disc begins and ends with arias taken, I presume, from complete Sunday service performances of Bach cantatas. The aria "Kommt ihr angefochtnen Sünder" comes from the cantata Freue dich, erlöste schar, written for the feast of St. John the Baptist. Alfred Dürr writes thus of the cantata: "The underlying mood is joyful, relaxed and unproblematical, not only in the opening chorus but in the four arias, where a dance-like style is often clearly evident." Unfortunately, to judge by this aria at least, Craig Smith seems to have a different conception. Presumably with the agreement of his soloist, he sets and extremely slow tempo and the aria lasts 8:46.

This sent me scurrying to my shelves for comparisons. John Eliot Gardiner, in his Bach Cantata Pilgrimage performance takes a mere 5:27 but he is surely too fleet – at his pace the aria sounds like a gambol through the Elysian meadows. So that might seem to suggest that Smith is "simply" old fashioned in his conception. But turn to Fritz Werner’s 1971 performance and you find a tempo that seems to me to be just right – he takes 6:03. Beside Werner I’m afraid Smith sounds laboured. What saves the performance is the sheer beauty and inwardness of Lorraine Hunt Lieberson’s singing. On its own terms the performance is quite lovely and no admirer of the singer will be disappointed but I just think the basic conception is wrong.

Things are much more satisfactory in the other Bach aria, which is placed at the opposite end of the programme. This aria is from the cantata Allein zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ, which is for the Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity. Again, Miss Hunt Lieberson’s singing is beautiful and communicative and this time the pace is much more sensible, I think. The conductor here is the composer, John Harbison, who has also had a long association with Emmanuel Music and who, in fact, is currently the Acting Artistic Director. He adopts a slow pace, but this aria can take it. Again comparisons were instructive. Eliot Gardiner’s tempo is almost identical and he takes exactly as long as does Harbison. Werner didn’t record this cantata but another celebrated Bach traditionalist, Karl Richter, did. In his 1976/7 recording he takes 9:34 but his soloist, Julia Hamari, sounds cool besides either of her rivals and she and Richter, whose direction is smooth and relaxed, convey no real sense of trepidation. Nathalie Stutzmann, for Eliot Gardiner, is perhaps a touch more inward than Hunt Lieberson but she’s equally involving and it’s only by the merest whisker that I come down in favour of this present, excellent performance.

The remainder of the disc is devoted to excerpts from Handel’s oratorio, Hercules and these excerpts contain all the music for Dejanira, the wife of the eponymous hero. I presume, though it’s not clear from the documentation, that these extracts are taken from a live account of the complete work.

The role of Dejanira is an exceptionally demanding one, both vocally and emotionally. She is, in Craig Smith’s words, a "monumental character." I can well imagine that Lorraine Hunt Lieberson was a pretty formidable presence in the performance of the oratorio for these extracts show us a vivid character portrayal.

In her first aria, "The world when day’s career is run," she is fully the grief-stricken wife, yet she still retains dignity. Much of Dejanira’s music is in moderate or slow tempo but when swifter music arrives, in "Begone, my fears, fly, hence, away," Miss Hunt Lieberson excels in the passagework.

As her jealousy of the captive princess, Iole, begins to take hold and her certainty that Hercules has been unfaithful increases there’s great sadness in the aria ‘When beauty sorrow’s liv’ry wears’ and that is splendidly conveyed here. Particularly outstanding is the account of "Cease, ruler of the day, to rise," where the singing is particularly expressive. Writing of this disc elsewhere, but of another aria in the programme, the critic Michael Kennedy spoke of Miss Hunt Lieberson’s "power to humanise every note and bring the music to new life." How I agree and I’d say that this comment applies even more strongly to this deep aria.

The final excerpt is the Mad Scene. Here Miss Hunt Lieberson is intensely dramatic without ever going overboard. This is extremely demanding music and she performs it vividly and, once again, when the divisions arise she displays fine vocal agility. Hers is a tremendous performance of this recitative and aria and, unsurprisingly, it sparks an ovation from the audience who, otherwise, are commendably silent throughout.

These extracts contain some superb Handel singing. Frequently I was reminded of Dame Janet Baker’s assumption of Handelian roles and I can pay no higher compliment than that.

Despite my reservation over the one Bach item – a reservation that does not concern the singing per se – this is a superb disc that all admirers of this much-missed singer will want to have. And if you’ve not heard Lorraine Hunt Lieberson before, buy this disc and discover for yourself what all the fuss is about.

– John Quinn, MusicWeb International

View Full Page

Sale

Lorraine at Emmanuel / Lieberson
Avie Records Apr 2008
CD
~~$19.99~~ $9.99

Donizetti: Pia De' Tolomei / Arrivabeni, Ciofi, Et Al

Dynamic

DVD

$36.99 Jan 01, 2011

All Regions | NTSC | Dolby Digital 5.1, DTS, PCM Stereo 2.0 | Colour | 16:9 | 137 min.

In recent years not only music festivals but also important opera theatres have turned their attention towards the neglected masterpieces of the lyrical repertoire. Thus also Venice’s Teatro La Fenice, in a commendable effort, staged this Pia de’ Tolomei by Donizetti, with some of the best singers available today for this type of repertoire. Initial response to this opera, which was performed for the first time in 1837, was ambiguous, so much so that Donizetti re-worked it as many as three times. The version here recorded is that of the critical edition recently published by Ricordi, with the tragic finale originally conceived by the composer. The listener will undoubtedly wonder, once more, at Donizetti’s wealth of melodic inspiration, especially when it comes to the character of Pia, wonderfully interpreted, here, by Patrizia Ciofi. Subtitles in 7 languages.

First DVD recording
First recording of the new critical edition

R E V I E W:

A work far better than its reputation, an attractive production, splendid singing and acting.

Donizetti composed Pia de’ Tolomei during the summer and autumn of 1836 in Naples, where he was living at the time. In December he set out for Venice, where the premiere was planned for February the next year at the Teatro La Fenice He travelled via Livorno and Genoa but when he arrived in Genoa he was met by the news that the theatre had been destroyed by fire on the night of 12/13 December. He realized that there was a great risk that the premiere would be jeopardized. However the production was moved to Teatro Apollo and the premiere took place on 18 February 1837 as planned. Fanny Persiani, who had been the first Lucia di Lammermoor a couple of years earlier, took the title role. The opera was not an immediate success and Donizetti reworked it twice. The second time was for Naples in 1838, where the censors enforced important changes and a happy ending. The present production is based on the critical edition published by Ricordi, where the original tragic finale is restored.

History often repeats itself and on 29 January 1996 Teatro La Fenice was again destroyed by fire. After seven years of intense reconstruction work a Phoenix arose from the ashes. Its inauguration took place on 14 December 2003, almost to the day 167 years after that first disaster. When Pia de’ Tolomei was scheduled less than 1½ years later the performances were carried through without mishap and the result can be seen and heard on this wholly attractive set of DVDs.

“Why is it attractive? I’ve read that this is one the worst of Donizetti’s operas.” I can hear more than one jaded opera-freak’s distrustful grumble. Yes, I have read that too and I wasn’t all that hopeful when I started viewing. Things began badly by mistake I started playing the second disc first and ended up hopelessly at sea. “What has happened before and why don’t we know that?” was my reaction. I shouldn’t blame Dynamic but since the disc I put in my player was in its usual place on the right-hand side of the opened box and to the left was the booklet, I didn’t even notice the admittedly very large 2 on the label. Unfortunately disc 1 was obscured by the booklet. However, when starting from the beginning, I found the plot and layout fully comprehensible – which is not always the case with these more obscure operatic byways. The origin of the story is to be found in a few lines in Dante’s Divina Commedia and according to some scholars they refer to events in the poet’s own time, taking place in 1297. A poem on the subject had been published in 1822 and in April 1836 a play by Giacinto Bianco was staged in Naples. Donizetti must have known it and been inspired by it. His librettist Salvadore Cammarano was no mean author – no one can deny the dramatic qualities of Lucia di Lammermoor. This drama unfolds with few digressions from the main story in what is certainly a clear-cut libretto.

The plot goes along these lines: Ghino is in love with Pia but she is married to Nello, his cousin, and turns him down. In revenge he informs Nello that Pia is going to have a secret meeting with a lover. Her visitor is however her brother Rodrigo, who has just escaped from captivity. Rodrigo manages to escape Nello’s guards but Pia refuses to tell her husband who the visitor was and is condemned to imprisonment for life in his castle. Ghino visits her there and promises to set her free if she becomes his. She tells him who the visitor was and Ghino decides to tell Nello the truth. On his way he is attacked and mortally wounded. He manages to tell Nello about Pia’s innocence and Nello rushes to the castle to save her, since he has ordered Ubaldo to poison her. He arrives too late but before she dies Pia reconciles her brother to her husband. OK, this may not be a masterpiece of a story or a libretto but there are standard works that are not one iota better.

Secondly the music is fully worthy of the drama. Rarely in Donizetti’s operas is everything perfect. This was his 61st opera in twenty years – if we include often far-reaching revisions of some works. There was little time for him to go back and tidy up details. In most of his works he tends to lapse into clichés. That said, it is remarkable how often he avoids the temptation; how frequently he finds new expressions, new structures. In Pia de’ Tolomei he has long abandoned the recitative-aria-recitative pattern and builds long, continuous scenes – not seamless as later Verdi but still pointing forward to his brilliant successor. He is stuck in the aria-cabaletta pattern, rather along the same lines as middle period Verdi. In addition he far too often builds the cabalettas and other numbers on the almost mechanical rum-ti-tum rhythm with which we are also well acquainted from early and middle Verdi. But it really doesn’t matter as long as it is captivating – and very often with Donizetti it is. The opening chorus of act 2 – the first thing I heard in my reverse-order listening – is one stirring example. Rodrigo, a trouser role, has a rousing cabaletta in the dungeon scene in act 1 and in the same act there is a fine cabaletta duet for tenor and baritone that should be a splendid recital item. More original are Pia’s big solos which make her a close relative to the likewise ill-fated Lucia di Lammermoor. Technically this role requires the same amount of florid singing and sensitive pianissimo singing and it should be an attractive role for any good lyric-dramatic soprano. The leading tenor also has a couple of vocally and dramatically attractive arias. Then there is a beautiful duet for Pia and her brother Rodrigo – for soprano and mezzo-soprano – accompanied by plucked strings.

Thirdly the production is visually pleasing. The sets are of the modern-minimalist kind, with strict geometrical constructions and evocative lighting. Sometimes screens with texts are inserted. The costumes are timelessly-historical, if you can accept the contradiction in terms. The soldiers’ armoury could be anything from late 13th century to the Thirty Years’ War while Pia’s nightdress could be from the latest issue of Vogue. The grouping of the soldiers in the mass-scenes is also decorative though hardly based on dramatic necessity.

Fourthly the singing and acting of the principals is uniformly at the highest level. It has been a long time since I saw a DVD production with such high quality singing even from the comprimarios. Patrizia Ciofi’s Pia is ravishingly sung, deeply felt and convincingly acted. She seems in a state of mental disturbance from the very outset - an innocent victim. Technically speaking she is brilliant with fluent coloratura and the gift of delicate embellishments. Dario Schmunck is a lyrical and ardent Ghino – a singer I eagerly look forward to hearing again. His acting may be rather reticent but is still efficient. Andrew Schroeder is a powerful and dramatic Nello and sings with glowing tone. Laura Polverelli’s Rodrigo is also a character not to be taken lightly. In the smaller parts Carlo Cigni, sporting a magnificent basso cantante, is surely predestined for a grand career. The chorus have a lot to do, especially the male soldiery. They are vivid and powerful but not always the most homogenous of ensembles. The orchestra play well and Paolo Arrivabeni is obviously deeply inspired by this long neglected score.

Is it a forgotten masterpiece? Maybe not but it is far better than some works regularly performed and should not be returned to the archives for the eternal sleep. If it is, the Teatro La Fenice forces have seen to it that it will not be totally forgotten and opera lovers with a taste for the unusual should hasten to acquire this set. Technically this set is fully worthy of the occasion. There is a good booklet and subtitles are available in seven languages.

A work that is far better than its reputation, in an attractive production with splendid singing and acting. Should be snapped up by all opera lovers with a feeling for the unusual.

-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International

View Full Page

Donizetti: Pia De' Tolomei / Arrivabeni, Ciofi, Et Al
Dynamic Jan 2011
DVD
$36.99

American Classics - Converse: The Mystic Trumpeter, Etc

Naxos

$19.99 Aug 01, 2002

Here's a trivia question for you: What musical work begins with an evocation of sunrise over Detroit? Answer: Frederick Shepherd Converse's Flivver Ten Million, a humorous answer to Honegger's Pacific 231 as portrayed through the adventures of a Ford automobile. After the dawn sequence, the factory gets to work and out comes our hero, the ten millionth Ford, and he sets out on his journeys. There's a sexy love scene (making out with a Chevy?) and a wild joy ride that culminates in a collision, and after a moment of introspection (and, we suspect, some time in the repair shop) Flivver takes off again, good as new. Along the way, Converse calls on a host of special effects: taxi horns, anvils, wind machine, ratchets. It's all over in 12 riotous minutes and JoAnn Falletta leads a clearly energized Buffalo Philharmonic in a knockout performance that alone is worth the price of the disc.

This isn't the time or place to go into the question of how "great" a composer Converse was, but there's no question that he had tremendous talent and a great gift for orchestral narrative. The Mystic Trumpeter (of Whitman fame) takes a few minutes to get going, but once it does, watch out! The battle music gives Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet a good run for its money. And speaking of Tchaikovsky, check out the last few minutes of Endymion's Narrative, where Converse screws up the tension of his lyrical, principal theme in a manner that the great Russian would have been proud to call his own. Okay, so this may not be the most original or thought-provoking music in the world, but who in his right mind would sneer at a few more Tchaikovsky-style tone poems that are just about as good as the originals? And make no mistake; Converse's musical style did evolve over time. Flivver Ten Million, composed in 1927, shows significant advances in harmony, rhythm, and orchestration (albeit in a humorous vein) when compared to the other two works, both of which date from the first decade of the 20th century.

Throughout these works, Converse demonstrates an impressive command of the long melodic line, a keen dramatic sense, and a sure feeling for form. Better still, Falletta and the orchestra play marvelously, holding absolutely nothing back and taking those very fully scored climaxes from one peak of excitement to the next. And yet there's sensitivity aplenty, whether in the delicate harp-accompanied interludes in Endymion's Narrative or the gentle trumpet fanfares that open The Mystic Trumpeter. I can hardly imagine these pieces better played or conducted, and Naxos has contrived to produce a bold, vivid recording with terrific top-to-bottom transparency of texture and an aptly vast dynamic range. Certainly, this stands among the finest entries in Naxos' American music series to date, and markedly improves on the only available competition: the Louisville Orchestra's decent but less-than-spectacular versions of Endymion and Flivver. Let's hope Naxos pauses for a moment before moving on, to further mine this particularly fruitful lode. Remember, Converse also wrote five symphonies... [8/10/2002]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

View Full Page

American Classics - Converse: The Mystic Trumpeter, Etc
Naxos Aug 2002
CD
$19.99

RISING

WARNER CLASSICS

$18.36 Mar 27, 2026

US a cappella sextet Lyyra's debut album "Rising" is a captivating project showcasing stunning repertoire arranged for upper voices. "Rising" is not bound by genre or style, but revolves around themes of love, identity, and togetherness. The six women of Lyyra come from different musical and personal backgrounds, each bringing with them their unique style. When joined together, they create lush, chill-inducing harmonies, and a long-lasting impression. Including pop hits, Americana, jazz, traditional choral, and new compositions, highlights include a cover of Billie Eilish's iconic "What Was I Made For"; Simon & Garfunkel's "America"; and jazz standard "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square".

View Full Page

RISING
WARNER CLASSICS Mar 2026
CD
$18.36

Mix & Match

Fermi's Paradox / Surrick, McFarlane

Sono Luminus

$17.99 Nov 20, 2020

Carolyn Surrick writes of this new release: “When I called Ronn McFarlane in January to ask if he wanted to play a house concert in April, he checked his calendar and said, “Sure, sounds great!” Members of Ensemble Galilei... are spread across the country, and we don’t usually get together until right before a performance. But Ronn and I live about twenty miles away from each other, so we started rehearsing. February turned to March in this year of COVID-19. There would be no house concerts. But we kept meeting on Saturday mornings... It was a few weeks into March when I turned to him and said, “Hey, let’s make a recording in June.” It was a crazy idea. We didn’t have much shared repertoire... That meant a huge investment of time and energy. I did not receive a resounding affirmative response. But days passed and the reality of the pandemic settled in. Nothing else was going to be happening this spring. No concerts. No tours. Cancellation after cancellation, with no end in sight. “Yes,” he said, “let’s do this.” I called Lindsey Nelson, Ensemble Galilei’s wonderful executive producer, and Collin Rae, the master of strategic marketing at Sono Luminus. I texted our producer, Dan Merceruio. Totally on board. We added rehearsals. Wrote harmony parts. Wrote new music. Arranged our favorite tunes for lute and viola da gamba… All in the shadow of the pandemic. Would we have done this a year ago? Not a chance. We were too busy… The recording exists because of this moment in time...”

REVIEWS:

This instrumental pairing, lute and viola da gamba, occurs only occasionally in Baroque and Renaissance literature. They augment Dowland’s Adew for Master Oliver Cromwell with newly composed works by McFarlane and with arrangements by both players. These are delightfully varied, taking up such works as The Allman Brothers’ Little Martha (originally an acoustic guitar solo by Duane Allman, so not as odd as it sounds), Amazing Grace, and Gounod’s Ave Maria. Some of the selections veer toward the Celtic folk side, including an intriguing version of Blackwater Slide modeled on one by Scottish musician Bert Jansch. Sono Luminus’ sound is, well, luminous, a pleasure throughout. Falling into a class of pandemic-time recordings where musicians rediscovered the enjoyment of home music-making, this is an unusually satisfying example of the genre.

– AllMusicGuide.com (James Manheim)
What is wonderful and becomes most fascinating are the new compositions and the threading of two or three songs into one. Carolyn Surrick’s viola da gamba has a rarity in its ability to provide shadings of emotions that add great chemistry. Equally, Ronn McFarlane’s investments are worthy and in their own right.

– ConcertoNet.com (Christie Grimstad)

View Full Page

Fermi's Paradox / Surrick, McFarlane
Sono Luminus Nov 2020
CD
$17.99

Shostakovich: Symphony No 8 / Andris Nelsons, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra

C Major Entertainment

DVD

$32.99 May 29, 2012

Also available on Blu-ray

A remarkable concert, splendidly captured on DVD.

This concert, given in the splendid modern concert hall of the Culture and Congress Center, was recorded live at the 2011 Lucerne Festival. I’ve previously seen several DVDs of Claudio Abbado and the Lucerne Festival Orchestra and I can give this present DVD no higher praise than to say that the music making preserved here is of the same exalted standard that I’ve experienced from Abbado.

The programme is a little odd and the rather superficial note by Barbara Eckle is of little help beyond suggesting vaguely that Nelsons wished to contrast the extrovert pieces by Wagner and Strauss with the “sublimation of emotion” - whatever that may mean - in the Shostakovich. However, let’s not waste time trying to discern a shape behind the programming. The Wagner is done very well. It’s evident from his facial expressions that Nelsons delights in the Rienzi’s Prayer theme, which he takes pretty broadly - though the sumptuous, aristocratic playing of the Concertgebouw’s string choir justifies that indulgence. There’s not a lot one can do with the tub-thumping, Weber-esque allegro music except to play it for all it’s worth and Nelsons does just that. He leads a vivid, red-blooded account of the Dance of the Seven Veils, helped by some colourful and suitably seductive paying by the orchestra: the principal flute and oboe players offer particularly delightful contributions. Again, it’s evident that the conductor is relishing the music and the response of the Concertgebouw’s players.

Smiles are absent from Nelsons’ face at the start of the symphony, and rightly so; this is music with a very serious, indeed grim countenance. Right from the outset of the massive first movement - which plays for 25:35 in this performance - Nelsons exerts the control that is vital in this spare, intense music. The long, glacial opening paragraphs, dominated by the strings, are sustained with supreme concentration. Gradually Nelsons and his players ratchet up the tension as the music moves inexorably towards the first climax. This is a gripping account of the movement; one’s attention is held and never slips. When it arrives the towering main climax, underpinned by menacing drum rolls, is shattering, as the composer intended. The extended baleful cor anglais threnody that follows - superbly played here - maintains the tension even though the decibel count has reduced to minimal levels; that’s a remarkable achievement by Shostakovich. Eventually the movement peters out in exhaustion.

The motor rhythms in the second movement are splendidly executed. This is blatant, strutting music, surely depicting sardonically a war machine. The bite and vigour of the Concertgebouw’s playing under Nelsons’ committed direction realises the composer’s intentions to perfection. The brutal menace of the third movement is conveyed no less successfully and the trumpet-led galop in the middle of the movement is expertly done. When the colossal climax arrives one has the sense that the runaway music has run at full tilt into a forbidding rock face and then the momentum drains away and we are left to contemplate the bleak, forbidding wastes of the impassive passacaglia that follows. This is a movement that requires utmost control of dynamics and total concentration on the part of the conductor and all the players. That’s exactly what happens here. The music is almost imperceptible at times, so hushed is the playing. In fact, both individually and collectively, the RCO is superb in the way the players sustain the soft dynamics. There’s some tremendously sensitive playing by the principal horn and by the clarinettists. The performance is quite breathtaking as Nelsons and his players summon up a vision of a wasteland comparable to the one that can be experienced in the last movement of Vaughan Williams’ Sixth Symphony.

The finale finds Shostakovich in enigmatic mode. Surely, the Soviet authorities were expecting their leading symphonist to come up with a symphony whose conclusion celebrated the heroic Soviet military and their repulse of the Nazi invasion. Instead what they got was the desolate passacaglia followed by a movement which, while ostensibly lighter in tone at times is still very far from a victory celebration. The music begins in what might seem a relaxed vein after the rigours of the fourth movement but peer beneath the surface veneer and there’s little genuine optimism. To make matters worse - for those seeking optimism - eventually Shostakovich arrives at an anguished and extended reprise of the grinding climax from the first movement. What, then, is the listener to make of the sardonic passage for bass clarinet and solo violin that follows immediately afterwards? Talk about “a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma”. It’s interesting to see the impish look on the face of Andris Nelsons as he launches into that bass clarinet/violin passage; I wonder what he makes of it? Whatever the meaning may or may not be, the passage is marvellously delivered by the two RCO players, which is entirely in keeping with the superb standard of solo playing on display throughout the whole performance. The symphony ends on a questioning, uncertain note and this strange, hushed music comes over most atmospherically here; thankfully the audience maintain their collective concentration and there’s a long silence after the music has died away before the well-merited ovation begins.

This is a gripping, magnetic account of one of Shostakovich’s finest symphonic utterances. From start to finish the RCO offers peerless playing that seems completely in tune with their conductor’s vision of the piece. As for Nelsons, this is another significant achievement in his recording career. Up to now I’ve only seen him conduct when sitting in the stalls - in other words, he’s had his back to me. Seeing him now from the front it’s fascinating to watch how he communicates with the orchestra through gestures and facial expressions. This concert offers further confirmation that Andris Nelsons is a major talent. The audiences in Birmingham should make the most of him for surely it will not be too long before one of the world’s leading orchestras snaps him up.

It only remains to say that the camera work is excellent, offering unobtrusive but very interesting and varied perspectives on the performers. The sound quality is very good and people who play DVDs through their hi-fi system will get even better results than I did, I’m sure. In short, the technical presentation is fully worthy of this remarkable concert.

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

View Full Page

Shostakovich: Symphony No 8 / Andris Nelsons, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra
C Major Entertainment May 2012
DVD
$32.99

The Handel Collection / Christophers, The Sixteen

Coro

$74.99 Mar 01, 2010

Harry Christophers and The Sixteen have long been celebrated for their recordings and performances of Handel. Over the past three decades Harry Christophers and his award-winning ensemble have expanded their Handel repertoire to take in his greatest works. They have also made numerous recordings of Handel’s masterpieces and this twelve CD boxed set features a selection of some of their finest discs along with three remarkable solo albums featuring The Sixteen’s celebrated orchestra and acclaimed sopranos Sarah Connolly, Ann Murray and Elin Manahan Thomas.

Reviews of some of the original recordings that make up this set:

Coronation Anthems
By any standards this is a major release. Even in a year which is seeing, predictably, a glut of Handel releases, many of them extremely fine, this stands out. Harry Christophers and The Sixteen have enjoyed tremendous success at home and abroad with performances that have caught the imagination of a public outside (as well as inside) the traditional concert hall (and, to add a quick plug, they will be the subject of next month’s cover story). And here, perhaps more than in any other of their excellent recent issues, they show just why.

This is an opulently sung and played Handel disc but also a cunning one. Christophers has thought deeply about how to pace these works, how to marshall his resources for maximum but never superficial effect. The opening of Zadok the Priest, for instance, so familiar to us all, is here subdued, hushed and steady. When the melody opens out, The Sixteen add power and sheen, giving a sudden surge. It reminds one of the historian Charles Burney's observation of Handel (quoted by Christophers) that "when he did smile, it was his sire the sun, bursting out of a black cloud".

A tremendous issue. One to keep on the shelves and return to frequently.

-- Gramophone [4/2009]

A good modern recording of Samson is overdue. It is extraordinary that this fine work, composed within weeks of Messiah, and in Handel’s day possibly the most popular of all his oratorios, should be represented on the Gramophone Database only by one version recorded nearly 20 years ago and the unidiomatic and heavily cut Harnoncourt recording made in 1992. The new one does not obliterate memories of the old, which captures performances by a generation of British Handel interpreters at their finest (Dame Janet Baker, Helen Watts, Robert Tear, Benjamin Luxon and John Shirley-Quirk, as well as several admirable younger singers). But the new version gives a complete and straightforward account of the work, in tune with styles of Handel performance favoured today. Except in one particular: most conductors of period-instrument groups tend to favour faster tempos than those Harry Christophers generally chooses. This is a decidedly leisurely reading of the work; clearly Christophers has a sense of its magnitude, of the big issues with which it is involved and the nobility of its utterance, and he will not let himself be hurried. I think there are times, especially in the final act, where quicker tempos would have been helpful towards the maintenance of the oratorio’s momentum. Similarly, I wish that he had moved a shade more swiftly during the recitatives, and – or this may be the editors – from one number to the next, simply to sustain the dramatic impetus more strongly. I suspect, however, that Christophers is probably less concerned with the drama of the work than with its religious and philosophical aspects, and of course with presenting a direct and faithful realization of it: a perfectly legitimate approach and one that I am sure many will applaud.

He has an excellent cast. Thomas Randle is well equipped for Samson, a firm, strong tenor, with a hint of baritonal quality in his middle and lower registers. There is no bombast here. “Total eclipse” has much of pathos but no heroics. “Why does the God of Israel sleep” is done with some power, and the renunciation of Dalila (“Your charms to ruin”) is weightily sung; and there is plenty of fire in his rejection of the Philistine braggart Harapha but never at the cost of musical singing. It is not strongly characterized: an estimable performance but one that does not quite catch you by the throat. Samson’s father Manoah is sung with characteristic warmth and depth of tone and feeling by Michael George: listen for example to his “Thy glorious deeds” in Act 1. His bass contrasts aptly with the tauter, more focused one of Jonathan Best’s Harapha. Mark Padmore contributes some well-placed singing as both the Israelite and the Philistine man. Lynne Dawson does the same as the woman from both camps (and also the Virgin, echoing Dalila in one appealing number); she contributes a vigorous “Let the bright seraphim” (which here has a brief choral section at the end, surviving in Handel’s manuscript but probably never heard before). I enjoyed Lynda Russell’s soft, seductive Dalila, a modest role, confined to Act 2; but perhaps above all Catherine Wyn-Rogers excels as Micah, with beautifully intense singing and concentrated tone in all her music – her phrasing in “Then long eternity” and the heartfelt expression in “Return O God of hosts”, for example, are quite outstanding. Stylistically the performance is cautious, with only modest added ornamentation and brief cadenzas, but of course the requisite appoggiaturas in the recitative: if an error, it’s certainly in the right direction.

The Sixteen provide clear and spirited choral singing throughout, suitably jolly in the Philistine music, duly noble in that for the Hebrews. I was struck by the unusual clarity of texture in the choruses, attributable both to Christophers’s direction and insistence on firm tone and incisive articulation and to the work of the engineers. Altogether a welcome issue.'

-- Stanley Sadie, Gramophone [8/1997]

Esther
"There can be little question that the true heroes of the present recording are Christophers, who conducts the work with a fervent conviction that makes the excellent Hogwood look at times a little prosaic, and his quite magnificent chorus, who sing throughout with an incisive precision, superb articulation, and clarity of diction that is often electrifying. Michael Chance sings a wonderful Priest (his intensely moving “O Jordan, Jordan” is one of the highlights of the set) that eclipses that of Drew Minter, and Nancy Argenta provides a poignant reminder of the singer she was with a radiantly joyful “Praise the Lord.” Haman, the one character of real interest (there are surely pre-echoes of Saul in his downfall), is powerfully sung by Michael George...this is a quite splendid performance of a work more often mentioned by historians than heard, a fate it certainly does not deserve."

-- Brian Robins, Fanfare

Delirio Amoroso
"Like most Coro releases to date, this is a reissue of a disc originally put out by the now-defunct Collins Classics label. The present disc dispenses with services of The Sixteen to feature three of the Italian cantatas composed during Handel’s prodigious Italian sojourn (1706–1710), all of those here dating from the first half of 1707. The most conventional in form is Clori, mia bella, a pastoral in which—over the course of four brief da capo arias alternating with secco recitative—a young man experiences the varying emotions attached to the uncertainties of love. The spirit of the piece is none too serious, Handel’s music utterly delicious. Both the other cantatas are more ambitiously planned, providing ample evidence of the young composer’s often-innovative approach to the form. Armida abbandonata, scored for just two violins and continuo, but here done with a fuller body of strings, has as its subject the abandonment of the sorceress Armida by the Christian knight Rinaldo as related in Tasso’s Gerusalemme liberata, a topic to which Handel was to return in his first London opera, Rinaldo. It opens with a remarkable accompanied recitative in which the singer is accompanied by two violins senza basso, then proceeds to a heartbroken aria of ravishing beauty, and a highly dramatic accompanied dramatic recitative in which the scorned Armida gives vent to her conflicting emotions.

The semidramatic Delirio amoroso is designed on an even grander scale, the vocal writing being more virtuosic, with each of its arias having an obbligato part. The text by Handel’s Roman patron Cardinal Benedetto Pamphili also taps into the fashionable Arcadian theme. In her delirium, the scorned and distraught Chloris follows her unfaithful dead lover to Hades, only to be rejected once more. Out of compassionate love, she leads him to Elysium, where a beautiful Entrée prefigures the idea of Gluck’s blessed spirits.

The much admired, indeed much loved, Irish mezzo Ann Murray makes no pretence of being an early-music singer, but she brings considerable style to these splendid examples of Handel’s burgeoning flair and invention. The voice itself sounds lovely, and it is produced with an enviable ease, floating and phrasing Handel’s wonderful melodies with real musicality. Equally as important are Murray’s strong powers of communication and feeling for text."

-- Brian Robins, Fanfare

Heroes and Heroines / Sarah Connolly
"And the mezzo lode continues to run as rich and high-quality as ever, supplying the world with yet another first-rate singer. Of course, Sarah Connolly hasn't exactly come out of nowhere: she's been a member of The Sixteen Choir and has made acclaimed appearances for the past several years in opera roles and concerts throughout the U.S. and Europe. This collaboration with her former Sixteen conductor, Harry Christophers, reveals the impressive maturity and technique of Connolly along with Christophers' solid command of Handelian drama. The repertoire may not be the most common collection of arias (only one is very familiar), but the selection is no less engaging for that; the idea of this recital was to "depict not only the close links between opera and oratorio in Handel's works but also equate the position of hero and heroine." Interesting programming concept aside, what you hear is top-notch Handel singing in some very characterful and artistically challenging pieces.>

From Connolly's first notes, "Sta nell' Ircana" from Alcina, we have no doubt about this voice's considerable dramatic capabilities, and we can't help but be impressed with both her range (free of discernible register breaks) and ease of delivery from top to bottom. By the aria's end she's confirmed the power of her lowest register notes and ability to fully embody and project her character. I'm not wild about her "ha-ha-ha-ha-ha" articulation in one of the aria's repeated figures, but since she doesn't exhibit this annoying mannerism anywhere else, I assume it's an intended "effect" (imitating the orchestral figures, perhaps?) and only mention it because it's so striking and uncharacteristic of her singing in general.

Connolly is just as convincing and her voice is as lovely in the slower arias, including "Mi lusingha il dolce affetto" from Alcina (all seven minutes of it!). Her breath control is amazing and she completely enthralls with her attractive, sensible ornaments. And she's lucky to have such a partner in Christophers and his attentive orchestra: listen as he takes Connolly's lead from the intro to Ariodante's tender "Scherza infida" and hands her a perfectly set atmosphere of sorrow and tragic determination. This is the highlight of the CD, Connolly's subtle vocal shading, expressive phrasing, and vibrant tone varying from gently floating to more emphatically projected--the definition of captivating.

Other listeners may cite the following "Dopo notte", a brisk, high-energy aria from the same opera, as the most impressive of Connolly's performances, and it would be hard to argue in light of the singer's command of the reams of rapid runs and wildly leaping lines while maintaining the flow and emotional intensity of this fiendishly difficult seven minutes of music. And then there's the beloved and oft-performed "Verdi prati", which Connolly renders as sensitively and with as sumptuous a tone and smoothly-spun legato as we could hope for. The final "Where shall I fly?" from Hercules is a magnificent display of virtuoso vocalism, although I still prefer Stephanie Blythe's more fluid, richer-voiced rendition--purely a matter of personal taste. And again, much credit must go to Christophers' smart orchestral leadership and to the crisply pointed accents, finely honed rhythms, and warm sound of the Symphony of Harmony and Invention, recorded to the highest modern standard."
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com [10/11/2004]

View Full Page

The Handel Collection / Christophers, The Sixteen
Coro Mar 2010
CD
$74.99

Shostakovich: Symphonies No 1, 2 & 3 / Wigglesworth, Netherlands Radio Philharmonic

BIS

SACD

$21.99 Apr 01, 2012

Gripping performances, reported in superb sound.

Mark Wigglesworth’s Shostakovich symphony cycle has been quite a long time in the making – over ten years, in fact – but it’s now nearly complete. I believe the Fifteenth is still to be recorded but this issue should be the penultimate release. We’ve reviewed most of the previous releases – the Fourteenth, one of the earlier releases (BIS-CD-1173) does not seem to have come our way – and each has attracted generally favourable comments. A full set of links to earlier reviews appears at the foot of this review. So far I’ve only heard a couple of the issues in this series, Symphonies Four and Eight.

Over the years when my colleague Dan Morgan and I have listened to the same recordings – including those which he’s reviewed but I haven’t – I found that generally our views have coincided quite a lot. Recently, however, unbeknownst to each other, we wrote simultaneous reviews of Vasily Petrenko’s disc of Shostakovich’s Second and Fifteenth symphonies and found ourselves taking quite different stances. I know that Dan has written admiringly of this latest Wigglesworth issue in its download format so I was intrigued to receive the CD version, though I’ve taken care not to read Dan’s review while preparing my own appraisal. The divergence of opinion over the aforementioned Petrenko release led to some interesting comments on the Message Board so it seemed to me that the arrival of this Wigglesworth CD would be a good opportunity to revisit Petrenko’s accounts of all three symphonies.

One problem for me in approaching this disc is that I’ve never thought very highly of either the Second or Third symphonies and that was reflected in my comments on Petrenko’s recording of the Third and, subsequently, of the Second. Would Mark Wigglesworth make me change my mind? To some extent he has made me more favourably disposed towards the Third though I’m afraid the Second still remains a closed book to me.

Irrespective of any issues about interpretation, I think there are two reasons why Wigglesworth is to be preferred over Petrenko in the Second and Third symphonies. One is that, as we shall see, though the sound on the Naxos discs is pretty good the BIS sound is even better. The other is that Wigglesworth has a clear advantage in using the professional voices of the Netherlands Radio Choir. Petrenko’s Liverpool choir, an amateur body, makes a good showing but the Dutch choir has more punch and their sound is better focused – I’m sure it helps that the choir is smaller than the Liverpool chorus. Naxos does enjoy one advantage, however, which may seem small but which, actually, is quite important: the sung texts are printed in transliterated form whereas BIS offer only the Cyrillic text and an English translation and as most collectors won’t read or speak Russian it’s easier to follow in the Naxos booklet what’s being sung.

The BIS booklet notes are by Mark Wigglesworth himself and he writes insightfully about the music. I was struck by a comment he makes about the First Symphony and the influence of Petrushka and, indirectly, perhaps of Pierrot Lunaire that “the disconcerting idea of human beings as puppets, with their actions manipulated by unseen string-pullers from on high, was one that stayed with the composer right the way through to his final symphony, written almost fifty years later.” In the second movement Wigglesworth’s tempo for the fast music seems very fleet but, in fact, when I compared Petrenko there’s not much to choose between them. In the third movement, however, there is quite a difference: Wigglesworth’s basic pulse is fleeter than Petrenko’s – he takes about a minute less to play the movement – but I don’t think he loses anything thereby in terms of intensity or power; quite the reverse, in fact. This may well be an instance where less means more. In passing, it’s interesting to note that in his much-admired complete cycle Rudolf Barshai is quicker than either of these younger conductors, taking just 7:43. Wigglesworth is excellent in the transition from the third movement to the fourth, bringing out the dark power in the music to perfection. The playing of the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra is razor sharp throughout the whole performance and the recording – to which I listened in conventional CD format – is stunning in its immediacy; as an example, listen to the pivotal timpani solo in the finale (track 4, 6:00). I still think the Petrenko performance is a very good one but I think Wigglesworth is even better, digging deeper.

The dynamic range of the BIS recording is such that if one plays the Second Symphony at a level that will be comfortable in the strident passages then the opening is all but inaudible, even when listening through headphones. In fact it’s only after some two minutes have passed that one can really discern what’s happening. That’s not intended as a criticism of BIS, by the way; that’s surely what Shostakovich intended and all credit to Wigglesworth and his orchestra for playing so softly. The RLPO’s playing for Petrenko, while extremely quiet, is not so hushed. BIS splits the symphony into four tracks – on Naxos there are three. Wigglesworth, having started so softly, maintains the mysterious atmosphere very successfully throughout the first section. I start to “lose the plot” with this work when we get to the Meno mosso section (track 7); much of this passage sounds simply chaotic and I can’t shake off the feeling that it’s all sound and fury signifying – well, what does it signify? Wigglesworth scores over Petrenko in having what sounds like a proper siren at the opening of the choral section – and during it; Petrenko uses the option to have the sound played by unison brass instruments. As mentioned above, the Dutch choir has more punch and body to their singing than their Liverpool rivals, valiant though the Merseysiders are.

In his note on the Third Symphony Mark Wigglesworth makes some interesting and important points. He observes that, though the symphony also concludes with a choral setting of a suitably revolutionary text it was not, unlike the Second, an official commission. In other words, the decision to write this work was Shostakovich’s and he himself selected the text that he set at the end. What does this tell us? Well Wigglesworth notes that by now Stalin was in power and, indeed, one of the composer’s own friends – the dedicatee of the First Symphony – had been liquidated. So perhaps Shostakovich was showing himself to be “on message”. However, the poem that he set in the Third Symphony is one that celebrates the revolutionary struggle of the workers rather than revolution and a leader such as Lenin – let alone Stalin – so perhaps, suggests Wigglesworth, Shostakovich is lauding the concept of proletarian revolution rather than the way it had been implemented – and perverted.

Wigglesworth’s recording is divided into seven tracks. He does the opening of this continuous, one-movement work (track 9) very well and after the surface innocence of that section there’s tremendous drive and purpose to the music that follows (tracks 10-11). Here the playing of the Dutch orchestra is very vital. The orchestra also excels in the glacial string episode (track 12) that foreshadows, I think, parts of the Fourth Symphony. Later on the climactic unisons over drum rolls towards the end of track 13 sound very impressive – the BIS recording reports the bass drum thwacks marvellously, so too the baleful tuba solo at the start of track 14. Once again Wigglesworth’s choir makes a splendid showing; I don’t care at all for the music they sing but they deliver the surface excitement with great fervour. This is the most convincing performance of the Third that I’ve heard; even so, I remain sceptical, though slightly less so than before. I note with some interest that Wigglesworth’s overall timing for the symphony is significantly shorter than Petrenko’s; he takes 27:51 against 31:10.

These are gripping performances, reported in superb sound and if you want Shostakovich’s first three symphonies in a package you shouldn’t hesitate. Perhaps it helps that Mark Wigglesworth has recorded these early works almost at the end of his slowly assembled cycle; is he able thereby to refract these scores through his experience of the later works? That must be the case. One question remains: would I have rated Vasily Petrenko’s performances differently had I heard Wigglesworth first? I think the honest answer to that is no. I still think Petrenko’s versions are very good. However, Wigglesworth’s interpretations are presented in superb sound and on balance I think he has the edge interpretatively and in terms of the quality of the singing and playing that he inspires.

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

View Full Page

Shostakovich: Symphonies No 1, 2 & 3 / Wigglesworth, Netherlands Radio Philharmonic
BIS Apr 2012
SACD
$21.99

Bacewicz: Orchestral Works, Vol. 1 / Oramo, BBC Symphony

Chandos

SACD

$21.99 Nov 17, 2023

The three works on this album were all composed between 1943 and 1953. Despite the extreme experiences and difficulties she faced during this undoubtedly most tragic time in Poland’s history, Grazyna Bacewicz managed to compose outstanding works which constitute splendid testimony to the vibrant creative potency for which she was renowned. Until 1939 her career as a virtuoso violinist and an emerging composer evolved naturally. Trained by the best Polish pedagogues at the Warsaw Conservatory, she went on to acquire an international education thanks to an Ignacy Paderewski Scholarship, which allowed her to pursue her studies in Paris: composition with Nadia Boulanger, violin with André Touret (1932 – 33) and Carl Flesch (1934 – 35). In spite of her soloistic successes she decided to join the Polish Radio Symphony Orchestra as its leader, in order that an improved knowledge and understanding of an orchestra should inform her composition. Poland then suffered terribly at the hands of Hitler and Stalin, before coming under the control of the Soviet Union. This album was recorded and released in collaboration with the Adam Mickiewicz Institute, a state cultural institution promoting Polish culture around the world and actively participating in international cultural exchange.

REVIEWS:

The Polish-born Bacewicz had trained as a violinist, but also studied composition in Paris with Nadia Boulanger...the elegant neoclassicism that Bacewicz imbibed in her lessons with Boulanger is evident in both these symphonies, though not so obviously in the extrovert Overture from 1943 also included on the disc. It’s possible to construe her style as a bridge in Polish music between Karol Szymanowski, or at least his later neoclassical works, and the Bartók-influenced modernism of Witold Lutosławski...those influences, as well as perhaps a debt to Shostakovich, too, are welded into a distinctive style that never seems derivative. Her handling of the large-scale four-movement forms is wonderfully assured, while the moments of high dissonance suggest that even in the early 1950s she was not prepared to conform to the precepts of Soviet populism as meekly as the authorities might have liked.

Certainly the drive and conviction behind these performances suggest that Oramo believes passionately in the music’s worth, and the BBCSO revels in its expert orchestration. It all promises well for subsequent instalments.

-- The Guardian

[The] third symphony’s anxiety-ridden introduction (marked Drammatico) surely reflects the mood of its times, as does the relentless drive and restlessness of the Molto allegro energico that follows, in clear sonata form. The stalking bass line that begins the following Andante brings in an incessant coloristic development where melodic figures struggle to have a fully lyrical moment, only to be interrupted by a thwacking bass drum. The basis of both scherzos is mercurial shifts of mood and color, ceaselessly restless, though sometimes playful. And how acutely the BBC players inhabit those many moods – one senses the orchestra’s conviction and enthusiasm for this music in playing that is energetic, fulsome, and highly refined.

-- The Classic Review

As recordings of Grażyna Bacewicz’s music have surfaced over the past 10 years or so, it has become obvious how unfairly neglected she was previously...Through first the suffering of the war years in Poland, then the cultural diktats of life under a Soviet Union-aligned government, Bacewicz managed to continue composing and retain her own voice. The two symphonies share a powerful, headlong drive. Given its premiere in 1952, the Symphony No 3 is the more tightly argued of the two, compressing its ideas with an internal logic that generates a fierce electric charge, with pounding energy rarely far away. The Symphony No 4, following a year later, takes up where its predecessor left off, though the scope of its musical ideas ranges somewhat more widely and the tension is less insistent. The breezy Overture, written in occupied Warsaw in 1943, is not obviously wartime music, unless its joyous energy hides some coded meaning, as in Shostakovich’s symphonies. This is music very much of its time, rolling together the intense concentration of Shostakovich with a dash of Bartók’s exploratory sound-worlds and William Walton’s show-off orchestration into a very cogent whole. The performances by the BBC Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Sakari Oramo, do not stint the vigorous spark of Bacewicz’s imagination.

-- The Financial Times

Oramo and the BBCSO offer an exhilarating account of this extrovert music[, the Overture].

The music [of the Symphony no. 3] is taut and full of interest; Oramo leads a powerful, athletic performance. The slow movement, an Andante, is most attractive and expressive; it features a good deal of very appealing writing for the woodwinds. The vivacious Scherzo requires – and receives – very precise articulation from the orchestra. The music is fast, lively, and often witty. In this movement, Bacewicz displays a jazzy brilliance in her writing; so much so that I was put a little in mind of Walton. The finale opens with a quiet, ominous introduction in which the low brass and tam-tam make important contributions. The main body of the movement (Allegro con passione) is often dramatic and, as I hear it, has an element of darkness. The movement is eventful and often powerful. Graźyna Bacewicz’s Third Symphony is a most interesting composition, which I’m keen to explore further. Oramo and the BBCSO do it very convincingly.

...Sakari Oramo and the BBC Symphony Orchestra have presented the works with such skill and commitment. I hope they’ll record more of this composer’s orchestral music for Chandos. When my colleagues and I sampled this SACD...we were impressed by the big, immediate sound. Further listening on my own equipment has reinforced that view. The sound has a good dynamic range and plenty of presence. Chandos has presented both the music and the performances in an ideally vivid fashion. The booklet includes an extended essay by Katarzyna Naliwajek.

-- MusicWeb International

View Full Page

Bacewicz: Orchestral Works, Vol. 1 / Oramo, BBC Symphony
Chandos Nov 2023
SACD
$21.99

GENESIS

SHANACHIE

$17.24 May 21, 2013

Over their amazing 30 year career Special EFX and it's Emmy award winning leader, guitar virtuoso Chieli Minucci have sold close to a million albums. With multiple #1 Smooth Jazz hit singles to their credit and a relentless tour schedule, Chieli Minucci and Special EFX virtually define the Smooth Jazz genre. Genesis brings together some of Special EFX's all time favorite collaborators such as Mino Cinelu and Omar Hakiem (of Sting and Miles Davis fame) and virtuoso violinist Karen Biggs (Yanni), to collaborate on 11 thrilling originals that combine the magic of the last 30 years with the freshness to today. The album kicks off with the funky 'Crazy 8's' the first of many hit singles sure to come from this brilliant album. Other highlights include the mystical vocal "Mirage", sung by up and coming Shanghai vocalist Feiyu Xu, the romantic "Blue Lagoon" featuring keyboardist Lao Tizer, the up-tempo "Club JZ" and much more.

View Full Page

GENESIS
SHANACHIE May 2013
CD
$17.24

Sibelius Edition Vol 8 - Orchestral Music

BIS

$59.99 Apr 01, 2009

Click here to view all 13 volumes of The Sibelius Edition

3332860.az_SIBELIUS_Orchestral_Works_Osmo.html

SIBELIUS Orchestral Works • Osmo Vänskä, cond; 1 Neemi Järvi, cond; 2 Jaakko Kuusisto (vn); 4 cond; 3 Leonidas Kavakos (vn); 5 Dong-Suk Kang (vn); 6 Marko Ylönen (vc); 7 Lahti SO; 1,3 Gothenburg SO 2 • BIS 1921 (6 CDs: 420:41)

Overture in E. 1 Scène de ballet. 1 Karelia: Complete music; 1 Overture; 2 Suite. 1 Impromptu. 2 Presto. 1 Press Celebrations Music. 1 Menuetto. 1 Coronation March. 1 March of the Pori Regiment. 1 Overture in a. 1 Romance in C. 1 Cortège. 1 Pan and Echo. 1 The Countess’s Portrait. 1 Violin Concerto: (1903–04); 1 (1905). 5 Rakastava. 1 2 Serenades. 2,6 2 Serious Melodies (2 versions). 1,2,6,7 6 Humoresques. 2,6 Academic March. 2 March of the Finnish Jäger Battalion. 1 3 Pieces, op. 96. 1 Suite mignonne. 1 Suite champêtre. 1 Suite caractèristique. 1 Morceau romantique. 1 Suite for Violin and Strings. 1,6 Andante festivo. 1 Processional. 1 Preliminary and alternative versions 1,3,4

Sibelius wrote a colossal amount of music for the orchestra. Already issued in BIS’s Sibelius Edition are boxes devoted to the tone poems (Vol. 1), theater music (Vol. 5, including the full scores plus the suites drawn from the composer’s incidental music), and voice and orchestra (Vol. 3); still to come, of course, is the volume of symphonies (Vol. 12, projected). That makes 21 or 22 well-filled CDs. Then there’s the present set, Vol. 8, which consists of everything else: works for violin and orchestra (about two CDs), music for patriotic pageants (one-and-a-half discs), and various occasional pieces, suites, and other works that don’t fit any of the above categories. The Sibelius quote with which annotator and project advisor, Andrew Barnett, begins his program notes could well serve as an epigram for the entire project: “I am myself a man of the orchestra. You must judge me from my orchestral works.”

Most of the contents of this set were first issued on single CDs: the Karelia music on BIS 915, the Press Celebrations Music on 1115, the two versions of the Violin Concerto on 500, the remaining works for violin and orchestra on 472, and various smaller works on 1265, 1445, 1485, and 1565. Items appearing here for the first time are the Karelia Suite, Menuetto, Romance, March of the Finnish Jäger Battalion , the three French-titled Suites, opp. 98 and 100, and the Processional , as well as several preliminary and alternative versions.

The sheer quantity of material here makes it most practical to discuss the works by category. Along with the Violin Concerto, the most important music in this set is that provided by Sibelius for two patriotic pageants during the Russian crackdown of the 1890s. Thinly disguised as benefits, the first in 1893 for education in the Viipuri district, the second in 1899 for the Press Pension Fund (the Russians had banned a Finnish newspaper), the Karelia and Press Celebrations pageants in reality served as nationalist rallies. The Karelia music, written the year after Kullervo and only two years after Sibelius’s first orchestral works, consisted of an Overture and music for eight tableaux; the Eighth Tableau quotes the song that would later become Finland’s national anthem. The Overture was published independently as op. 10, and three of the eight tableaux were adapted to form the Karelia Suite , op. 11. The remaining music—the entire score totals 50 minutes—is well worth hearing; particularly striking are the runic singing of Tableau 1 and the “siege” music of Tableau 6. In the runic singing, I prefer the earthy female voices used in Tuomas Ollila’s recording for Ondine to the bland baritones used here; otherwise, Vänskä’s version is more compelling. BIS includes Järvi’s energetic 1982 recording of the Overture (to avoid redundancy, one supposes), but gives the Suite in a new recording by Vänskä. I’m not sure why: there are plenty of fine recordings of the Suite already, and Sibelius collectors serious enough to consider this volume doubtless already have their favorite versions; mine is the RCA/Decca recording by Alexander Gibson, not currently available.

The Press Celebrations Music is almost as extensive, comprising a prelude and music for six tableaux; the final movement, “Finland Awakes,” with a new ending, became Finlandia , published as op. 26/7 in the expectation that the entire score would follow. In fact, only three other tableaux were published in revised form as Scènes historiques I , op. 25. The various stages of revision of Finlandia can be heard in Vol. 1 of the Edition; in the original, instead of the familiar apotheosis of the hymn tune, the ending consists of a series of bombastic fanfares. The Press Celebrations score is also included on the Ondine disc, but Vänskä is the clear winner.

The other major work here, of course, is the Violin Concerto. Kavakos and Vänskä give a compelling performance of the familiar 1905 revised version; it’s a performance of extremes, with the many technical challenges met head-on and the more lyrical music played with great sensitivity. Fans of Oistrakh on the one hand or Heifetz on the other won’t want to discard their favorites, but Kavakos offers yet another good option. The real story, though, is the 1991 version of Sibelius’s original score by the same artists; I believe it remains the only recording of the 1903–04 version. The comparison is intriguing; longtime Fanfare subscribers can find David K. Nelson’s detailed review in 14:6. It is impossible to discuss the two versions at length here, but two points should be made: first, the original is both longer and more difficult, including several fascinating passages that were later cut; second, as is almost invariably true, Sibelius’s final thoughts are his best. The revised version eliminates some interesting digressions and much extraneous detail, making it more cohesive and giving it more impact. The original version is still well worth hearing, not only because the comparison is so interesting, but also because it does include a good deal of music later eliminated. The two versions were originally issued in tandem, but here the original version is placed in an “appendix” on the last disc of the set, along with early or alternative versions of other works.

Kang and Järvi give sympathetic readings of the Two Serenades and the Serious Melodies ; the latter are also given, in the appendix, in Sibelius’s cello version by Ylönen and Vänskä. Only the Humoresques are a bit of a letdown. These superb pieces, written in 1917–18 when Sibelius was working on the Fifth Symphony under horrible conditions, are technically demanding and musically complex; they should be far better known, but their format—six short pieces totaling about 20 minutes—seems to have no niche in today’s concert programs. Kang and Järvi are less volatile, less exciting than Aaron Rosand on an ancient Vox LP. I have not heard the recordings of the violin-and-orchestra works by Tetzlaff or Kuusisto; Robert Maxham gave the former a mostly favorable review in 26:6, but the latter does not appear in the Fanfare Archive.

The many other pieces in this set can be addressed only briefly. Sibelius’s first orchestral works were the Overture in E Major and the Scène de ballet , both written in 1891; in 31:1, I preferred Järvi to Vänskä in the former, the reverse in the latter. The Overture in A Minor was written to fill out the program for the premiere of the Second Symphony; supposedly it was composed in a single evening. It certainly is far thinner in substance than the Symphony; its introduction, striking in its use of the trumpets, fails to go anywhere. The well-known Romance in C Major is given a rather perfunctory reading; Pan and Echo , a “Dance Intermezzo” sometimes grouped with the tone poems, is a striking miniature.

Rakastava (“The Lover”), a three-movement work for string orchestra with triangle and timpani written in 1911, the time of the Fourth Symphony, is a small masterpiece. It actually grew out of a much earlier choral work (thus perhaps explaining the anomalous opus number 11), and it was revised in 1912, Sibelius being dissatisfied with the arrangement. Again the final version is far superior to the earlier one, included in the appendix. Vänskä gives a sympathetic account.

Most of the remaining works are of minor importance; the Three Pieces , op. 96, and the three suites that followed, written between 1919 and 1922, are all essentially salon music; the Suite for Violin and String Orchestra, written in 1929 and thus one of Sibelius’s final compositions, is likewise not consequential. The Andante festivo , a 1938 arrangement of a work composed in 1922 for string quartet, is notable not only for its noble formality, but also because the recording of Sibelius’s live broadcast for the New York World’s Fair is the only surviving document of his conducting. That recording shows that almost everyone, including Vänskä, takes the piece too quickly; Vänskä’s version here has a timing of 5:10 versus Sibelius’s 6:55. Finally, the Processional is an arrangement of one of several songs Sibelius wrote for the Finnish Masonic lodge in 1927, again making it one of his last works.

The contents of this set range from some of Sibelius’s finest, most important works to some of the least significant products of his mature years. If you don’t have the single CD of the two versions of the Violin Concerto, or either of the pageant scores, or if you absolutely must have every scrap of orchestral music he created, this set’s for you. Collectors who have been acquiring each volume of the Edition as it is released will find this one of the more rewarding ones. Essential for Sibelians.

FANFARE: Richard A. Kaplan

View Full Page

Sibelius Edition Vol 8 - Orchestral Music
BIS Apr 2009
CD
$59.99

Rimsky-korsakov: Legend Of The Invisible City Of Kitezh / Vedernikov, Kazakov, Panfilov

Naxos AudioVisual

DVD

$18.99 ~~$37.99~~ Save 50% Dec 13, 2011

RIMSKY-KORSAKOV The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh and the Maiden Fevronya • Vitaly Panfilov ( Prince Vsevolod ); Tatiana Monogarova ( Fevronya ); Mikhail Gubsky ( Grishka Kuterma ); Mikhail Kazakov ( Prince Yury ); Gevorg Hakobyan ( Fyodor Poyarok ); Marika Gulordava ( Page ); Valery Gilmanov ( Bedyay ); Alexander Naumenko ( Burunday ); Alexander Vedernikov, cond; Cagliari Th O & Ch • NAXOS 2.110277/78 (2 DVDs: 187:28) Live: Cagliari 5/2–4/2008

I wanted to see this video because, for many years, I’ve heard exorbitant praise from certain critics regarding Kitezh , yet in listening to the commercial recording conducted by Valery Gergiev I felt let down. The music seemed to me flat and characterless, lacking drama, development, and momentum. Surely, I said to myself, a good stage production would change my mind, as it did with Mussorgsky’s Khovanschina.

Yet opinions on The Invisible City of Kitezh (to abbreviate its title) are divided. Although many critics wax ecstatic over Rimsky-Korsakov’s magnificent orchestration for this work, few outside Russia are very impressed by the opera as a whole. It is an overlong, derivative grand opera in which two old tales of magic were welded together by librettist Vladimir Belsky, and finally presented intact in 1908. Even the first Russian audiences didn’t care much for it, finding it very old-fashioned in concept and musical style as well as overly rambling, though it is still periodically revived, mostly within Russia.

This production gives us a rare glimpse of the opera as performed in Italy. The audience reaction is not enthusiastic; on the contrary, when the applause comes at the ends of acts, it sounds like perhaps 80 to 100 people half-heartedly clapping.

One glance at the production tells you why. Although it is not Regietheater —the characters are, thankfully, clad in traditional-looking costumes—Eimuntas Nekro?ius’s idiotic staging has too much symbolism and too little that resembles reality. The first act, set in the “woods,” presents a stage littered with “wooden” structures, bird houses and the like. Get it? Woods. The presentation of Little Kitezh, where the maiden Fevronya is to marry Prince Vsevolod, is cluttered with giant, tinfoil-covered bell-like objects with people popping out of their tops. Get it? Bells. This kind of idiocy continues throughout a production of a work in which the music itself is also static and rarely wedded to the text. In act IV, scene 1, where Fevronya and Grishka are supposed to be wandering in the woods, what you see is a plain blue-tiled floor with two Erector-set structures in the background. Apparently, Nekro?ius ran out of birdhouses, but not to despair! When Grishka runs off into the woods and Fevronya is left alone, two giant, hideous bird creatures sneak out of the woods and behind her as she sleeps. Perhaps Nekro?ius has seen too many of the Alien movies. In the final scene, supposed to represent Kitezh triumphant, the stage is filled with objects that look like rocket silos.

Musically, many passages sound like leavings from Boris Godunov, and not good leavings at that, so even when the singers are excellent the plot crawls along. It is an opera more about characters who stand there and sing than about characters creating a musical drama. Compare, for instance, the first act to the similar situation in Verdi’s Don Carlo. A prince meets a beautiful woman in the woods, and they fall in love. Verdi miraculously manages to wed lovely music, some of it even memorable, to a flexible musical structure in which the orchestra comments on or moves the action. Rimsky-Korsakov creates a static structure wedded to pretty but undistinguished melodies that just toodle along, and do so for half an hour.

Moreover, the plot is remarkably dismal and depressing for a magic or fairy-tale opera. Everyone sings about death even before the Tartars invade Russia, and several characters die except Fevronya and the seedy drunkard Grishka Kuterma, who becomes a traitor, willing to turn Kitezh over to invading Tartars and finger Fevronya as the snitch just to save his own worthless hide. Prince Vsevolod goes off to battle for Kitezh, not to win it but to die in it. (I’m guessing he flunked military school.) He does so, but returns in the second half of act IV as a ghost, and at the end of the opera Fevronya marries the ghost. And you talk about overlong … each of the first two acts runs over a half hour, but each of the last two acts runs more than an hour apiece.

Getting to the performance, Tatiana Monogarova is simply magnificent as Fevronya, not only vocally but histrionically, which is important because this is a rare Russian opera in that the soprano dominates everything. Here is a woman who fully understands how to inhabit a role. You come to believe wholeheartedly in her character within the first five minutes she is onstage, and she holds you in her thrall to the end. As for her voice, it is a remarkably rich lyric soprano, close to spinto in power, exactly the kind of voice Rimsky wanted for this part. Her midrange, in fact, reminds me strongly of Mirella Freni at her best, only with more power. The top range is not as lovely as Freni’s, but it has its own interesting luster and more metal. Monogarova made her American debut as Lisa in Pique Dame in Houston in 2010, and also began singing Cio-Cio-San around the same time in Europe. She is signed with IMG, and I really do wish her well in what I hope will be a major career.

Vitaly Panfilov, as Prince Vsevolod, is neither an interesting actor nor a particularly fine singer. The voice is fluttery, dry, and percussive. He sings on pitch and phrases well, but that is all one can say of him. His stage presence registers somewhere between nil and mediocre. On the other hand, Mikhail Gubsky as the nefarious Grishka Kuterma is a superb stage actor, though his voice is strictly that of a good comprimario. Nevertheless, the world needs good comprimarios, and he is certainly one of them. His pathetic wheedling is completely believable.

A word of praise is also due Marika Gulordava in the somewhat thankless role of the Page. The Page is analogous to Cassandra in Les Troyens or the Simpleton in Boris, someone who warns of danger to come. Though her role is important it is not as long as either of the other two, yet Gulordava is simply stunning in her one big scene. Her voice is not as beautiful as Monogarova’s, but it has a laser-beam focus with a bright, perhaps over-brilliant top. As a musician and singing actress she is first-rate. I also hope for her to have a good career. Mikhail Kazakov, singing the role of Vesvolod’s father, Prince Yury, has a nice voice but an uneven flutter and a constricted low range, a real detriment for a Russian bass.

Alexander Vedernikov is a fine conductor who obviously loves and understands this music. He brings out all of the wonderful orchestral subtleties of the score and moves the opera about as well as can be expected under the circumstances. Indeed, his conducting here is finer for this particular work than Gergiev’s.

My copy of the DVD may have been defective, but all through the first two acts the video is out of synch with the audio, as if one were watching something in which the video was on a two-second tape delay. On the second DVD, most of it is in synch, yet there are still strange moments when the picture freezes for a couple of seconds, only to jump ahead and eventually catch up with the audio.

Thus there are good and bad points to be taken into consideration in approaching both the work and the performance, but if you are fond of Kitezh I would recommend this for the excellent acting of a handful of participants and the excellent singing of the two sopranos.

FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

-------

THE LEGEND OF THE INVISIBLE CITY OF KITEZH AND THE MAIDEN FEVRONYA

Opera in 4 Acts. Sung in Russian
Libretto by Vladimir I. Belsky

Prince Yuri Vsevolodovich – Mikhail Kazakov
Hereditary prince Vsevolod Yuryevich – Vitaly Panfilov
Fevronya – Tatiana Monogarova
Grishka Kuterma – Mikhail Gubsky
Fyodor Poyarok – Gevorg Hakobyan
Page – Marika Gulordava
Two notables – Gianluca Floris, Marek Kalbus
Bedyay – Valery Gilmanov
Burunday – Alexander Naumenko

Orchestra e Coro del Teatro Lirico di Cagliari
(chorus master: Fulvio Fogliazza)
Alexander Vedernikov, conductor

Eimuntas Nekrošius, stage director
Marius Nekrošius, set designer
Nadezhda Gultiayeva, costume designer
Audrius Jankauskas, lighting designer

Recorded live from the Teatro Lirico di Cagliari, Sardinia, 2 and 4 May 2008

Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: PCM Stereo / Dolby Digital 5.0 / DTS 5.0
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English
Running time: 187 mins
No. of DVDs: 2 (DVD 5 + DVD 9)

View Full Page

Sale

Rimsky-korsakov: Legend Of The Invisible City Of Kitezh / Vedernikov, Kazakov, Panfilov
Naxos AudioVisual Dec 2011
DVD
~~$37.99~~ $18.99

Dutch Cello Sonatas, Vol. 8 / Hochscheid, Van Ruth

Audiomax

SACD

$24.99 Jan 18, 2019

An astonishing success story goes into its second overtime on Volume 8 of our Dutch Cello Sonata series. This time this release is really supposed to mark the conclusion, and for this occasion Doris Hochscheid and Frans van Ruth have selected sonatas by Georg Hendrik Witte and Wouter Hutschenruyter made to order for a crowning culmination. Utrecht was the hometown of both composers, but their paths also crossed in other places. On a recommendation from Richard Strauss, White gained a foothold in Essen, where he shaped its expanding music culture over many years. He had a special talent for persuading the greats of the European music world to come to perform in Essen, which until then had been a rather insignificant coal-mining town. A special high point was surely his role in initiating the premiere of Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 6 in Essen’s recently built concert hall- in a performance by the Utrecht Orchestra, which had developed into a phenomenal ensemble with Wouter Hutschenruyter as its principal conductor. The compositions of the two are closely related. Witte had received significant impulses during his studies in Leipzig. The tradition of Schumann and Mendelssohn held in the highest honor in that city is in audible evience in his works. The Drei Stucke in particular clearly reveal Schumann’s famous Fantasiestucke as their source of inspiration.

View Full Page

Dutch Cello Sonatas, Vol. 8 / Hochscheid, Van Ruth
Audiomax Jan 2019
SACD
$24.99

Rutter: Anthems, Hymns and Gloria for Brass Band

Naxos

$9.99 ~~$19.99~~ Save 50% Sep 25, 2020

John Rutter, Britain’s most successful contemporary choral composer, has written most of his sacred music to commission, and for use in church services. Composed for his first American tour, Gloria was also his first great international success, combining an ethereal quality with moments of exhilaration. Two other popular works are also represented: Pie Jesu from the Requiem, and This is the Day, composed for the wedding of HRH Prince William and Kate Middleton in 2011. John Rutter’s music is eclectic and shows influences of the French and English choral traditions of the early 20th century as well as influences from light music and American classic songwriting. Almost every choral anthem and hymn has an orchestral accompaniment in a more colourful form in addition to the standard organ or piano accompaniment. This new release coincides with the composer’s 75th birthday in24 September 2020 – a perfect moment to celebrate one of Britain’s most successful and internationally well-known composers of choral music.

-----

REVIEWS:

Rutter’s particular brand of polyphony, bright and optimistic yet surprisingly dense, offers many possibilities, and it is likely that even listeners not particularly enamored of Rutter will appreciate the artistry here. The lion’s share of that artistry comes from the Black Dyke Band, the preeminent member of the shrinking group of British brass bands. There are plenty of popular Rutter pieces here, including This Is the Day, composed for the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton in 2011. The Black Dyke Band ends with a collaboration on Rutter’s first big hit, the Gloria (1974), deploying the ideal Sheffield Philharmonic Chorus.

– AllMusicGuide.com (James Manheim)

Two musical pillars of Christmas in the UK are John Rutter and Salvation Army silver bands. While, with one exception, there are neither John Rutter carols here nor a Salvation Army silver band, we do have a disc devoted to the music of Rutter most of which is performed by one of Britain’s most famous (and finest) bands in arrangements by Luc Vertommen. And, as such, it seems to ooze Christmas, even there is only one item—What Sweeter Music—which has a direct Christmas connection.

The Black Dyke Band under their conductor, Nicholas Childs, plays everything with supreme polish and sensitivity, and exudes a silky smooth warmth and affection. Of particular beauty is their take on The Lord Bless You and Keep You, which has such a velvety softness that it seems almost to breathe with a human voice. Also exuding a truly almost vocal style of delivery is the delightfully creamy cornet of Richard Marshall, in the Pie Jesu. I am not so sure otherwise about this arrangement, with a tinkling glockenspiel adding a slight whiff of the fairground. Indeed, on the whole, Luc Vertommen’s arrangements have a slightly over-orchestrated feel, with his version of All Things Bright and Beautiful really far too fussy and action-packed to match the simple beauty of Rutter’s original. I suspect that without a band of such superlative control to play them, these arrangements would not work anything like as effectively as they do. However, they do work magnificently in this context, and while they hardly stretch the band and have, inevitably, a certain samey quality, the luxury of the playing ensures that the novelty of Rutter on brass never wears too thin. The one exception is Distant Land (A Prayer for Freedom) which takes on a decidedly Copland-esque feel in this instrumental-only arrangement.

Scored for choir, organ, brass and percussion, the Gloria of 1974 is so strongly redolent of Walton that it is sometimes difficult to spot anything distinctive in the music, especially given this performance in which Darius Battiwala is so keen to convey the mood of celebration and festivity that the moments of repose are largely swept away by the sheer exuberance of the music-making. One senses that the church in which this recording was made was possibly a little too small to accommodate such musical enthusiasm, and certainly the men of the Sheffield Philharmonic Choir seem to have pretty much tired themselves out by the time we reach the final Amen. But what the choral singing lacks in polish, is more than amply compensated for by the sheer joie-de-vivre of the performance and the sparkling majesty of the Black Dyke Band.

– MusicWeb International

View Full Page

Sale

Rutter: Anthems, Hymns and Gloria for Brass Band
Naxos Sep 2020
CD
~~$19.99~~ $9.99

Haydn: The Paris Symphonies / Harnoncourt, Concentus Musicus

Sony Masterworks

$24.98 Apr 05, 2005

I'm in Haydn heaven. This is the most remarkable set of "Paris" Symphonies since Bernstein's, and without question the new reference by which all others will be judged. I say this fully cognizant of the excellence of some of the competition, from the surprisingly robust Karajan (DG) to the thrillingly exciting Thomas Fey (Hänssler, which contains 4 out of 6 of the symphonies). But none of those previous sets comes as close as this one to realizing perhaps the most singular quality of the music: it's inexhaustible variety and range of emotional expression, both between the various works as well as within them. Recorded back in 2001 and 2002 in glorious, state-of-the-art sonics that give the music the dynamic range and "bigness" of scale that it requires, we can only be thankful that RCA and dhm picked up Harnoncourt's contract when Warner dropped him. The thought of this set not seeing the light of day is too horrible to contemplate.

Few moments in listening to new interpretations of well-loved classics (for me anyway) are more rewarding than hearing something totally different and personal, only to realize that what the conductor has done is simply realize the composer's clear intentions by playing what sits in plain view on the printed page. Let me share with you three examples. In the first movement of Symphony No. 85 ("La Reine"), every performance since the dawn of time that observes the exposition repeat returns to the beginning of the allegro. Harnoncourt goes all the way back to the beginning of the symphony, including the introduction. This so shocked me that I hastened to my score (Landon edition, and so a good scholarly text), and sure enough, there is no repeat sign bracketing the beginning of the allegro. Moreover, in the other two symphonies with introductions (Nos. 84 and 86), you will find those repeat signs in the expected place. So Harnoncourt probably is the first conductor in history, on disc at least, to play what Haydn actually wrote.

Does this matter? Maybe not all that much, but including the introduction emphasizes the movement's hommage to the baroque French overture, and it's entirely in keeping with Haydn's love of formal variety and freedom from routine. It sounds "right". Another example: listen to the forcefulness with which Harnoncourt attacks the sforzandos in the development section of Symphony No. 83's ("La Poule") finale. Once again it's exactly what Haydn wrote, and the effect is electrifying. But Harnoncourt's eye for detail and ear for sonority are not limited exclusively to loud special effects. He can be subtle too, as when he lets us hear the long-held viola note supporting the whimsical second subject in the finale of the Symphony No. 86--a striking jet of color. Anywhere you might care to mention, from the vigorous dotted rhythms that open Symphony No. 85, to the ideal tempos that Harnoncourt finds in the variation slow movements in Symphonies Nos. 82, 84, and 85, to the delicious vignettes that he makes out of the trios in all six (thankfully lively) minuets--try No. 84--you can hear the notes leap off the page with all the freshness of a premiere performance, but with none of the uncertainty.

Harnoncourt honors all suggested repeats, including the second halves of the outer movements--and this also matters, because Haydn writes his endings with the expectation that the repeats will be observed, adding an additional element of surprise and drama. They are anything but perfunctory. In fact, the timing of the second-half repeat is different in every single finale: one and a half 2/4 bars in Symphony No. 82; three quarters of a 12/8 bar in No. 83; one eighth-note in a 2/4 bar in No. 84; half a 2/4 bar in No. 85; three quarters of a 4/4 bar in No. 86; one and a quarter 2/2 bars (plus fermata) in No. 87. Observing the repeats, and understanding what they mean, not only gives the music more substance by allowing listeners to follow the argument in greater detail the second time around, but it further emphasizes Haydn's individuality in each work, making us care about his imaginative approach to form. The result is more than three hours of music--on three discs priced as two--that never feels overlong. Just the opposite.

Finally, the playing of the Concentus Musicus Wien is extraordinary. The woodwinds are particularly gorgeous, whether in the lovely writing for the whole section in select slow movements--try Symphony No. 87, and the variation with pizzicato accompaniment in No. 84--or in solos such as the witty oboe that represents the hen in No. 83 and launches the allegro of No. 85. Harnoncourt even makes something special out of the string articulation in the repeated notes running through the first movement of No. 87 (and he's the first conductor since Bernstein to give the bass lines at the beginning of that symphony their full measure of weight and character). The trumpets and drums in Symphonies Nos. 82 and 86 play vigorously and always cut through the texture with clarity and festive brilliance, while the "dancing bear" finale of No. 82 is both exciting and rustic, the bagpipe imitations milked for all that they're worth, but never at the expense of the music's onrushing energy. You'll love the horns: rich-toned, but with plenty of bite where necessary.

I could go on, but instead let me urge you to buy this set as soon as possible and hear it for yourself. You'll be dazzled, even awed. It sets a new standard in Haydn performance--and trust me, you won't be able to stop listening. [4/28/2005]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

View Full Page

Haydn: The Paris Symphonies / Harnoncourt, Concentus Musicus
Sony Masterworks Apr 2005
CD
$24.98

Puccini: Turandot / Guleghina, Licitra, Iveri, Carella

BelAir Classiques

DVD

$29.99 Nov 15, 2011

Also available on Blu-ray

PUCCINI Turandot • Giuliano Carella, cond; Maria Guleghina ( Turandot ); Salvatore Licitra ( Calaf ); Tamar Iveri ( Liù ); Luiz-Ottavio Faria ( Timur ); Carlo Bosi ( Emperor ); Leonardo Lòpez Linares ( Ping ); Saverio Fiore ( Pang) ; Gianluca Bocchino ( Pong ); Arena di Verona O & Ch • BELAIR BAC 066 (DVD: 128:00); BAC 466 (Blu-ray: 128: 00) Live: Verona 2010

Turandot was Giacomo Puccini’s last opera and one he did not live to finish. He “laid down his pen,” as the expression goes, for the last time after he had finished the music for the death of Liù and the solemn procession during her ritual removal from the stage. Unfortunately for the composer who eventually finished the work, Franco Alfano, Puccini left more than the unfinished manuscript; he left an untenable dramatic situation as well. With the death of Liù there remains a clueless tenor who has apparently been fatuously pursuing the wrong girl all along, and a cruel, unlikeable dramatic soprano, Turandot. These two are finally to come together as a couple and the audience must feel that a celebratory resolution of the opera’s emotional impetus is occurring with this union. Sorry, it just doesn’t happen. Alfano wrote approximately 14 more minutes of pretty good music, certainly nothing that would embarrass Puccini, much of it based on the older composer’s extensive notes, but he could not dispel the anticlimactic pall of this final bit. One or two other composers have rewritten the completion in the decades since, but have fared no better, I’m not at all sure Puccini could have saved the bacon either had he lived longer. So we are left with a congenitally weak conclusion for the opera, but it is a work that contains much superior material elsewhere as well. The aria “Nessun dorma” alone is a small Puccini miracle and rivals or surpasses anything else he wrote for the tenor voice.

This production from the Arena di Verona is a quite traditional one and uses the standard Alfano ending. As I have said in previous reviews, this particular outdoor venue demands spectacular sets and special effects to make up for the less than ideal acoustics and the distance from audience to stage. It gets plenty of glitz and glitter here with a new celebratory production from that master showman, the Cecil B. DeMille of his day, Franco Zeffirelli. The Arena, Turandot, and Zeffirelli are a near-perfect match, and the Italian stage director vindicates the confidence shown in him with this splendid new production. The new sets are ornate, sumptuously colorful, detailed, and properly large. The production employs a large chorus and many extras, all meticulously dressed, to attend and pay homage at Turandot’s father’s impressive Imperial Palace. We get many close-ups, and the crowd in general is doing more natural things than in some other Zeffirelli efforts. I must admit to a guilty secret: I am a closet Zeffirelli fan. His work is always a visual feast even when it may be drawing attention away from the drama and the singing. I’ll take my chances.

This production was to prove somewhat of a swan song for tenor Salvatore Licitra, at least on video. Licitra was to die almost exactly a year later in a motor scooter accident in Sicily, apparently brought on by a cerebral hemorrhage. It is an unfortunate loss to the artistic community when any artist dies prematurely, but particularly so in the already thin ranks of premier operatic tenors. Licitra sings quite well here as Calaf; he even encores “Nessun dorma,” once a big no-no in Italian opera houses. In my estimation Licitra is the pick of the cast, but fails to bring the last ounce of thrilling vocalism that would rank him alongside a Corelli or a Pavarotti in the role. Dramatic soprano Maria Guleghina has begun competing with herself in recordings of Turandot, much like Eva Marton did back in the ’80s and ’90 s (and stage designer/director Zeffirelli is doing as well). This is Guleghina’s third video performance in the role, and there are quite a few audio recordings of her Turandot as well. Here she is in quite good voice and sings cleanly, if a little passionlessly. Her big voice at times has a steely edge, much like Birgit Nilsson in the role, but then much of Turandot’s music is not meant to charm. The Liù of Tamar Iveri is a bit more problematic. She has a heavy vibrato that distracts from the vocal line, and her tone turns edgy when she pushes in her top range. Beginning back with Anna Moffo and even earlier, the singing of Liù has been of a generally high standard in the recorded history of the opera, so to come up a bit short here is unexpected. Luiz-Ottavio Faria as Timur sings solidly, as do the Ping, Pang, and Pong, especially the baritone Ping of Leonardo Lòpez Linares, who acquits himself with distinction. The sound on video from the Arena orchestra is really much better than it has any right to be, as I have noted before. And the chorus sounds very good as well, thanks to the miracles of modern sound reproduction. Thomas Edison would be amazed.

There has been a plethora of videos of Turandot (though not so many as for some other Puccini operas), but not one has really separated itself from the pack as a clear first choice. The Levine set with Eva Marton and Plácido Domingo has been highly praised over the years and also features a Zeffirelli production, but suffers from 25-year-old video and audio technology. The Gergiev set on TDK offers the novelty of the Luciano Berio ending in place of the Alfano, but the cast is quite pedestrian. An earlier set from the Arena features Ghena Dimitrova and Nicola Martinucci. This one is better, in fact as good a choice as any, and has quite the best cast of singers of the three Guleghina sets.

The booklet contains a synopsis in Italian, English, German, and French. Audio formats are PCM stereo and Dolby 5.1 surround. Subtitles are in all major European languages, no Korean, but Japanese. There are no extras with the opera but it is available in both DVD and Blu-Ray formats. I would recommend the latter if you have the equipment; this production is a visual tour de force and the high-resolution picture is like watching it in a theater. Recommended.

FANFARE: Bill White

View Full Page

Puccini: Turandot / Guleghina, Licitra, Iveri, Carella
BelAir Classiques Nov 2011
DVD
$29.99

Weber: Complete Works for Piano & Orchestra / Brautigam, Willens, Kölner Akademie

BIS

SACD

$21.99 Mar 19, 2021

Carl Maria von Weber wrote music that has been admired by composers as diverse as Schumann, Berlioz, Tchaikovsky, Debussy, Ravel and Stravinsky. But in his lifetime he was also recognized as one of the finest pianists of the period, with an exceptional technique and a brilliant gift for improvisation. Especially during the 1810s he toured extensively, and like other composer-pianists he wrote works to use as his personal calling cards, among them the two piano concertos recorded here. They were both composed in 1811-12, but while the First Concerto takes Mozart’s concertos as its model, Piano Concerto No. 2 looks towards Beethoven. This change of direction was probably influenced by the fact that Weber had acquired a score of Beethoven’s recently published Emperor Concerto. In any case there are some striking similarities between his concerto and Beethoven’s: the use of identical keys, and the inclusion of a slow, subtly orchestrated Adagio and a closing playful rondo in 6/8. Weber is unmistakably Weber, however: a highly original orchestrator whose music is at turns brilliant, melancholy and charming. These qualities are to the fore also in the Konzertstück from 1821, in which the composer liberates himself from Classical models and finds a new path. Much admired by Liszt, the work is a kind of symphonic poem in four sections, played without a break. Following highly acclaimed recordings of the complete concertos by Mozart and Beethoven as well as Mendelssohn, this disc brings the team of Ronald Brautigam and Kölner Akademie to the very crossroads of Classicism and Romanticism.

REVIEW:

It is a mystery to me why these marvellously crafted, pianistically challenging and ear-catchingly memorable works aren’t much better known – whilst there have been a few recordings over the years they tend only infrequently to turn up on concert programmes. The same point could be made about the composer’s four piano sonatas; not least because Weber wrote as idiomatically and adventurously for the keyboard as one would expect from an individual who happened to be one of the foremost virtuosi of his day.

The Kölner Akademie’s rapt accompaniment (solo strings in No 1, solo group alternating with small orchestra in No 2) in each case is perfectly poised and appropriately weighted against the agreeably plump yet discreet sounds emanating from the Dutchman’s fortepiano. What is inarguable is that Brautigam invests the indubitably jolly elements of the outer movements with bags of character. Brautigam’s instrument (a wonderfully characterful Paul McNulty copy of a Conrad Graf fortepiano which originated at exactly the time of these compositions) has at its disposal a palette which suits Weber’s hyperactivity and sudden mood changes with equal aptness. The florid Beethoveniana of the opening movement of the second concerto benefits especially from its lustre.

In the final analysis listeners like myself are more frequently reaching the conclusion that we need to hear this repertoire on both modern and historical instruments. I’m pretty sure this exceptional recording is pioneering in the latter regard – those fortunate enough to have the right equipment will certainly enjoy the SACD option, but the stereo sound proves considerably fatter and more three dimensional than its Hyperion counterpart, although I will certainly not be parting with that disc. It goes without saying that Brautigam is always worth hearing in any case.

– MusicWeb International (Richard Hanlon)

View Full Page

Weber: Complete Works for Piano & Orchestra / Brautigam, Willens, Kölner Akademie
BIS Mar 2021
SACD
$21.99

Price, Coleman & Montgomery / Repper, New York Youth Symphony

Avie Records

$19.99 Apr 08, 2022

A 2023 GRAMMY nominee of historic stature, profiled in the New York Times!

In the midst of the COVID pandemic, the remarkably resourceful personnel and musicians of the New York Youth Symphony (NYYS), with Music Director Michael Repper, found a way to come together during a time of separation to make their debut recording. Featuring four works by three African American women composers – Florence Price, Valerie Coleman and Jessie Montgomery – the orchestra’s first studio recording includes several premieres. The release coincides with the 115th anniversary of Price’s birth. Two recordings of works by Florence Price are firsts. Ethiopia's Shadow in America is the first recording of the work by an American orchestra. Her Piano Concerto in One Movement, with soloist Michelle Cann, is the premiere recording of the composer’s newly-discovered original orchestration.

Price’s compositional voice blends the African American folk songs and dances of her heritage with the central European Romantic tradition in which she was trained. Her tone poem Ethiopia’s Shadow in America evokes the injustices experienced by people of African descent. Her Piano Concerto in One Movement features the exuberant soloist Michelle Cann, a champion of the composer’s music, who gave the New York and Philadelphia premieres of the work.

Umoja – meaning “unity” in Swahili – by Grammy-nominated flutist, entrepreneur, and composer Valerie Coleman originated as a simple song for women’s choir. Its transformation as a work for orchestra – given its first recording here – maintains its feel of a drum circle and sharing of history through a traditional “call and response” form. In her rich and colorful single-movement symphonic work Soul Force, NYYS alum Jessie Montgomery drew on Dr. Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech in which he states, “We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force."

REVIEWS:

This has to be one of the most assured and exciting recording-debuts from a youth orchestra since the West-Eastern Divan and the Simon Bolivars hit the ground running: there's a wonderful sheen and polish to the sound, ensemble is nigh-on immaculate, and the young New Yorkers revel in Price's juba rhythms and inventive scoring in both the Piano Concerto (given for the first time in her original orchestration here) and Ethiopia's Shadow in America.

-- Presto Music

This particular album is yet another example of a project in a sense fortified by the Covid pandemic, and the fact that it features a youth orchestra – New York Youth Symphony – is a heartening indication of innocent ears opening to both the undiscovered and the entirely new. They give it their all. Price’s Ethiopia’s Shadow in America (recorded for the first time by an American ensemble) is a fitting foundation for the programme, its focus not so much on the indefensible reality and inhumanity of slavery as the enduring spirit to rise above it. For sure, its first pages are marked with a cry of anguish across the entire orchestra – but a nobility of utterance shines through them and it isn’t long before the emergence of a simple Spiritual (in the second section of the piece) finds solace in a solo cello and aspiration in its journey from solo oboe to balmy (and majestic) horns. And don’t for a moment think that a cakewalk is a somehow inappropriate conclusion to what has gone before, because this is the music that Price knew and found joy in. It was something to be celebrated.

-- Gramophone

View Full Page

Price, Coleman & Montgomery / Repper, New York Youth Symphony
Avie Records Apr 2022
CD
$19.99

Brahms: Symphonies No 1-4 / Zinman, Tonhalle Orchestra Zurich

RCA

$21.98 Mar 20, 2012

After his highly variable Mahler cycle, it's very good to be able to report that David Zinman is back in top form for Brahms. For the most part, these are splendid performances, beautifully played and recorded. The very opening of the First symphony sets the tone: rich, emphatic, but not exaggerated. Textures are clear, bass lines unusually audible. Zinman handles some of Brahms' most intransigent bits of orchestration, such as the opening of the Third symphony, with its perpetually syncopated accompaniment, with effortless mastery. The inner movements of all four symphonies are without exception perfectly paced, including the slow movements of the Second and Fourth symphonies.

Are there a few quibbles? Naturally. The introduction to the First symphony's finale lacks mystery, while the coda of the Second symphony's finale would have benefited from slightly more prominent brass and a surge of additional energy from the podium. On the other hand, the finale of the Third never has sounded better, the coda tremendously fulfilling, while the Fourth's passacaglia is really imposing, but also energetic. Here the trombones truly make their presence felt. In short, this set stands with the best, and I suspect its stature will only grow over time.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

-----

Brahms had a special connection with Zurich. He attended the opening of the Tonhalle, the city’s famous concert hall, in 1895 and was the only living composer to be featured on the ceiling painting; it’s reproduced in the booklet for this set, part of the altogether splendid packaging. The latter-day descendants of the orchestra for that opening concert have here given us a cycle of symphonies with which I am sure the composer would have been very pleased.

The first thing that strikes you is the beauty and colour of the playing. Both times I’ve heard them live, it’s the Tonhalle strings that have impressed me most, rich and rounded, oozing with character. This makes them ideal for Brahms. The mellow beauty of the Second’s first movement suits them perfectly, but they also develop a distinctive sheen, even a slight hard edge, for the more high energy moments, such as the opening movement of the First or the invigorating downward sweep that opens the Third. There is also some sensational wind playing and some first rate solos, such as the oboe in the First and the clarinet in the slow movements of the Third and Fourth. The playing alone would be worth the asking price, but it’s Zinman’s dynamic conducting that holds the set together. His reading of each symphony carries a clear sense of a transformational journey which, for me, went beyond the ordinary. The transition from darkness to light in the First is obvious, but Zinman breaks it down still further so that there is ebb and flow in each movement: in the first movement’s Allegro, for example, there is an almost tangible feeling of the drama and tension of the first subject being tamed by the gentler lyricism of the second. The Second carries a steady trajectory towards the celebration of the finale, but Zinman takes this movement just a touch slower than many so that the ebullience is contained within a certain set of rules. The Third also seems to go on a steady path from the exhilaration of the opening to an increasing sense of melancholy which is almost - but not quite - solved by the finale. Only in the first two movements of the Fourth was that sense of direction a little lacking. The tension and energy ups dramatically with the Scherzo and the final Passacaglia becomes so intense as to be almost unbearable.

It helps that these live recordings were all taped within two days, so we have here an unusually coherent reading of Brahms’ symphonic oeuvre. Sections of the press have damned this set with faint praise, calling it a safe middle-of-the-road Brahms cycle, but for me it’s much more than that: it’s an intelligent, well argued reading of this great cycle which stands comparison with any Brahms set that has come my way in recent years. Zinman is very much in the traditional mould of Brahms interpreters, eschewing the approaches of Harnoncourt or Gardiner, but he argues convincingly that there is still a place for this in our 21st century and he certainly carried me along with him. The sound, by the way, is excellent, rich and bloomy with plenty of clarity for the inner voices.

Incidentally, for those who are interested in such things, Zinman observes all the exposition repeats. Live as these recordings are, the audience is exceptionally well behaved and there is not a hint of a cough throughout. Applause, and there must have been much, is also absent. My only quibble is that the CDs give us barely any time to digest one movement before the next begins, surely an unnecessary compression of space when there is so much spare time on each disc.

-- Simon Thompson, MusicWeb International

View Full Page

Brahms: Symphonies No 1-4 / Zinman, Tonhalle Orchestra Zurich
RCA Mar 2012
CD
$21.98

Mozart: Complete Wind Concertos On Period Instruments

Nimbus

$32.99 May 01, 2010

Doing my usual bit of online research for re-released recordings, I found these CDs in their former incarnation as credited to the ‘Orchestra of the Old Fairfield Academy’. This band was founded in 1985 by Thomas Crawford, and changed its name to the American Classical Orchestra in 1999. Formed from leading period instrument performers in the New York metropolitan area this is a highly regarded orchestra, and positive commentary on these concerto recordings reflects the excellent quality which you can expect throughout this usefully packaged set. All but one of the wind soloists are members of the orchestra, and very good they are too.

This is a period instrument orchestra, so the sound is accordingly fairly gentle, though by no means hair-shirt. The upper strings are perhaps a little thinner than with a conventional modern orchestra, but with what sounds like gut strings and a minimal use of vibrato this is to be expected. In fact the sound is nicely rounded, almost sumptuous at times, and by no means cold. All of the orchestral instruments are listed at the back of the booklet, with makers’ names both modern and ancient, the modern instruments being replicas of early examples.

Eric Hoeprich is the only soloist not listed as an orchestral member, and indeed, I see him often enough wandering around the Royal Conservatoire in The Hague in his capacity as teacher, so this is no surprise. Far from saving the best until last, CD 1 of this set has some of the finest performances here, and the warm tones of Hoeprich’s basset horn or basset clarinet make for a lovely opening. The Clarinet Concerto in A major, K622 is one of Mozart’s late masterpieces – indeed his last major work, and is given a supremely sensitive if un-extrovert performance on this recording. The choice for using a basset horn is based on the instrument owned by the work’s dedicatee, Anton Stadler. This instrument has a lower range than a conventional clarinet, and the version here uses fairly recently discovered historical references to create as accurate as possible a reproduction of Stadler’s solo, right down to the creation of a new instrument replicating that shown in an engraving from a concert programme from 1794. The extra low sonorities do indeed make for an extra layer of sonority and richness which can be quite unexpected. Either way, it is a recording to cherish as well as one to put alongside old favourites for comparison.

From last to first, the Bassoon Concerto in B flat major K191 was Mozart’s first wind concerto, and despite inhabiting the gallant style of composers senior to Mozart the work is ambitious and technically demanding to soloists even today. Denis Godburn’s instrument has a soft and rounded tone whose warmth is both attractive and distinctive, and the recording is mercifully free of key rattle. Oboe soloist Marc Schachman wrote the booklet notes for this first disc, and he goes into some detail on the origins of the Oboe Concerto in C major K314, which we also hear on disc 2 in a version for flute. Historical mystery and obscurity aside, this is yet another excellent performance, with perhaps only an over-long cadenza to momentarily knock the some of the pace and energy from the first movement. The period oboe has a slightly broader, less sinewy resonance than the modern instrument, and this milder tone again makes for an attractive listen.

CD 2 is given over entirely to the flute concertos, of which the Flute Concerto in G major, K313 is arguably the finest. Sandra Miller plays a traverso flute from the period, which has a tone more akin to a recorder than the modern power-flutes we hear in orchestras these days. Unlike a recorder however, the horizontal blowing hole allows for greater flexibility of dynamics, colour and tuning, and Miller’s nicely centred tone rings out over the orchestra with fine projection and excellent intonation, making one wonder why Mozart had such an apparent loathing for the things. The Adagio non troppo central movement is a particular treat, the solo line topping the string texture while also being enveloped in it in a friendly meeting of musical lines and textures. As previously mentioned, the Flute Concerto in D major K314 is a fairly straight transposition of the Oboe Concerto in C major, if anything being given even more lightness and bounce in the flute version of the opening Allegro aperto. Indeed, the flute version shaves nearly two minutes from the oboe version, though this is partly down to cadenzas, all written or improvised by the soloists on these recordings. The Concerto for Flute and Harp K299 is justly popular, though I am sure this has as much to do with the wonderful sonorities created by this combination of instruments as with the actual musical material. Once again the soloists are beautifully balanced in the recording, and well matched even though there are no surviving usable pedal harps from Mozart’s time. The instrument used here must come close to what he would have expected to hear, with a marvellous transparency and gentle articulation and resonance played with fine musicality by Victoria Drake.

CD 3 covers pretty much all of Mozart’s surviving work for horn and orchestra. As far as absolute completeness goes we only appear to be missing the fragment left of a Horn Concerto K494a, and for that matter the Andante for flute and orchestra K315, but this is of little importance. What we do have are some useful notes by Robert D. Levin, which explains which works were written for whom, and how the score of K370b came to be re-united with itself after having been cut into pieces by Mozart’s son Carl. These performances on a natural horn do not bear comparison with the famous recordings made by the more beefy tones of legendary valve instrument players such as Dennis Brain or Alan Civil. The best period recordings I know are those of Anthony Halstead with Christopher Hogwood on Decca, which are admittedly more lively and characterful than these. R.J. Kelly’s tone is nicely rounded, and as to be expected from a well behaved classical natural horn, fairly restrained. The recording seems to emphasise the ‘damped’ nature of the instrument however, and there isn’t a great deal of contrast in the tone from one phrase or movement to the next. The famous quartet of concertos is K412, K417, K447 and K495, in addition to which we are given a version of a Horn Concerto in E flat major K370b/371 completed by Robert D. Levin in 1993. This was in the process of re-arrangement after Mozart had discovered that his soloist, Joseph Leutgeb, was unable to play the lowest notes at the grand age of 59 due to his loss of teeth. Levin has sorted out the confusion brought about by work done on the piece by Franz Xaver Süssmayr after Mozart’s death, and in any case restored the Mozart’s original intentions, “today’s hornist [not being] bound by Leutgeb’s lack of teeth.” The final track on the CD is the original conception of the Rondo K412, with the addition of faux-operatic vocalisations by Eric Dillner, expounding Mozart’s ‘sardonic dialogue’ as directed at Leutgeb, annotated throughout the score. This bit of fun is of little more than novelty value, and thank goodness the text is given with translation in the booklet. That Mozart, he was a naughty boy...

With technical assuredness and musical sensitivity from a fine set of period music specialist soloists this has to be pretty much the top of the heap when it comes to an authentic/historically informed collection of Mozart’s complete wind concertos. I’ve done a trawl for significant competition, but none of the ‘complete’ sets available seem to be on original instruments. Individual CDs can be found which do provide more impact from the music, and for those willing to spend a little more and do some searching around the Decca/L’Oiseau Lyre Academy of Ancient Music directed by Christopher Hogwood do ultimately provide more satisfaction and depth of quality in general, though these American competitors do come very close indeed. There are one or two moments of very minor orchestral scrappiness in some of the accompaniments with the American Chamber Orchestra, but nothing which will offend even professionally tuned ears too much. The horn concertos are perhaps the least inspiring of the set and more serviceable than magical, but with plenty of scholarly work invested in the preparation of all of these performances there is always plenty of fascination in hearing what must be close to what Mozart’s audiences should have heard at the time.

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

View Full Page

Mozart: Complete Wind Concertos On Period Instruments
Nimbus May 2010
CD
$32.99