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Lully: George Dandin - La Grotte De Versailles / Ensemble Marguerite Louise; Gaetan Jarry
Château de Versailles Spectacles · Oct 2020CD$20.99 -
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![Mozart: Le Nozze Di Figaro / Ticciati, Glyndebourne Festival [blu-ray]](//arkivmusic.com/cdn/shop/files/2248449.jpg?v=1786839047&width=800)
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![Mozart: Le Nozze Di Figaro / Ticciati, Glyndebourne Festival [blu-ray]](//arkivmusic.com/cdn/shop/files/91H0QYMfDVL.jpg?v=1786839048&width=800)
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![Mozart: Le Nozze Di Figaro / Ticciati, Glyndebourne Festival [blu-ray]](//arkivmusic.com/cdn/shop/files/2248449.jpg?v=1786839047&width=400)
Mozart: Le Nozze Di Figaro / Ticciati, Glyndebourne Festival [blu-ray]
Opus Arte · Jun 2013Blu-Ray$39.99 -
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Kodály: Te Deum - Bartók: Cantata Profana / Foster, Transylvania State Philharmonic
PENTATONE · Nov 2023SACD$21.99 -
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Ciaramella Dances: On Movable Ground
Yarlung Records
CD
$21.99
Oct 29, 2013
“From the nobility of Europe, to the petit bourgeoisie reading Thonoit’s Arbeau’s Orchesographie, to the already pregnant bride in Brueghel’s The Peasant Wedding, everybody danced their way through the rituals of life…. Their music, like their dance, reflected a delicate balance between the restraints of culture and convention, and ingenious flourishes of improvisation….”
– Adam Gilbert
– Adam Gilbert
Lanner: Viennese Dances / Dorner, Orchestre de Cannes
Naxos
CD
$19.99
May 13, 2016
Joseph Lanner was the inventor of the formal Viennese waltz, elevating it from a peasant dance to a refined art form enjoyed by high society. While renowned in his day, Lanner seldom left Vienna and failed to acquire the same European fame as his more widely-travelled colleague and rival Johann Strauss I, but his music endures for its rich generic variety and lyrical, poetic style. These dances range from boisterous and ‘immoral’ gallopades to the spooky Geistermusik of the Hexentanz, and a late masterpiece Die Schonbrunner, given 21 encores at Lanner’s final concert and including melodies quoted by Stravinsky in his ballet Petrushka.
Review:
Naxos's sound engineers have done a first class job on this disc. Robert Letellier's booklet notes provide a welcome and expert introduction to a composer who will be little - if at all - known to many.
Naxos's competitive pricing always encourages taking a risk on unfamiliar material. In this case and after listening to nearly 70 minutes of Lanner's undemanding but nonetheless highly enjoyable music, most buyers will conclude that any risk had turned out to be well justified. Believe me, if you enjoy the music of Lanner’s era you will most certainly like his easy-going tunes. And if, like me, you do so enough that you play the disc more than a few times, I suspect you might even start whistling them too.
– MusicWeb International (Rob Maynard)
Review:
Naxos's sound engineers have done a first class job on this disc. Robert Letellier's booklet notes provide a welcome and expert introduction to a composer who will be little - if at all - known to many.
Naxos's competitive pricing always encourages taking a risk on unfamiliar material. In this case and after listening to nearly 70 minutes of Lanner's undemanding but nonetheless highly enjoyable music, most buyers will conclude that any risk had turned out to be well justified. Believe me, if you enjoy the music of Lanner’s era you will most certainly like his easy-going tunes. And if, like me, you do so enough that you play the disc more than a few times, I suspect you might even start whistling them too.
– MusicWeb International (Rob Maynard)
Haydn: Die Jahreszeiten (The Seasons)
Naxos
CD
$29.99
Mar 21, 2006
Vivaldi was not the only composer to write a universally popular Four Seasons. Composed directly after The Creation (Naxos 8557380-81), Haydn's oratorio The Seasons features three peasant soloists who sing of the joys, trials and tribulations of country life throughout the year, complete with a chorus of villagers. Haydn's genius transforms many genre scenes - a summer storm, hunting episodes, daybreak, the gloomy winter fog and peasant dances - into something truly spectacular, joyous and life-affirming, in keeping with his deeply held religious conviction. Morten Schuldt-Jensen and the Gewandhaus chamber choir join forces again for this their second Naxos release.
Adam: Giselle - Highlights / Mogrelia, Slovak Radio Symphony
Naxos
CD
$19.99
Jun 26, 2012
ADAM Giselle • Pavel Klinichev, cond; Svetlana Lunkina ( Giselle ); Dmitry Gudanov ( Albrecht ); Maria Allash ( Myrtha ); Vitaly Biktimirov ( Hans ); Elena Bukanova ( Berthe ); Ekaterina Barykina ( Bathilde ); Alexey Loparevich ( Duke ); Vladislav Lantratov ( Wilfreed ); Chinara Alizade, Andrey Bolotin ( Peasants ); Bolshoi Ballet & O • BELAIR BAC074 (109: 00) Live: Moscow 01/2011
ADAM Giselle: highlights • Andrew Mogrelia, cond; Slovak RSO • NAXOS 8.572924 (61:07)
Giselle is one of the ballet characters that dancers relish, emblematic of the Romantic era, complete with mad scene yet requiring dancing of great purity for the second act. Svetlana Lunkina is one of the new crop of Bolshoi ballerinas equally at home in bravura roles at the same time as being a convincing Giselle or Sylphide. Dmitry Gudanov is a convincing hero, his youthful looks helping to define his character as an innocent, totally unaware of the chaos he has created. Maria Allash possesses the same romantic qualities as Lunkina, allied with a stern demeanor that makes her Myrtha a very steely character. Chinara Alizade and Andrey Bolotin dance the interpolated Peasant Pas de Deux with the requisite charm, while Vitaly Biktimirov’s lovelorn Hans (aka Hilarion) almost arouses our compassion. Pavel Klinichev and the Bolshoi Orchestra offer a straightforward reading. The credit “choreographic version by Yuri Grigorovich after choreography by Jean Coralli, Jules Perrot & Marius Petipa” is puzzling as this appears to be a standard version, other than a hastily choreographed court dance the first time the Duke and his followers arrive. Grigorovich’s only other contribution would appear to be some of the bizarre rhythmic accentuations that he favors.
The CD of orchestral highlights is well-enough performed by Andrew Mogrelia and the Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra, of particular interest for the music with hunting fanfares that are rarely heard at the start of act II before Myrtha’s entrance. But some of the tempi are unsuitable for the theater and may even jar listeners familiar with the work.
FANFARE: Joel Kasow
Breiner: Slovak Dances, Naughty and Sad / Slovak Philharmonic
Naxos
CD
$14.99
$29.99
Save 50%
Sep 25, 2020
Peter Breiner is one of the world’s most performed composer/arrangers, with a boundless musicality that has led him to create fusions of music from a variety of genres. Drawing on traditions established by Brahms and Dvo?ák and showcasing leading folk music soloists, his Slovak Dances are an exuberant and kaleidoscopic monument rooted in Slovak musical folklore. It comprises 16 symphonic fantasias on songs that evoke varying emotions with an autobiographical element that follows Breiner’s life from his origins in Humenné and Košice to New York. Peter Brenier boasts over 200 albums released and multiple streams and downloads. Known as a conductor, composer, pianist and arranger, he has conducted, often doubling as a pianist, the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, the Bournemouth, Jerusalem, New Zealand, Moscow and Polish National Radio Symphony Orchestras, the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra, the Slovak Philharmonic and the Orchestre National de France, to mention just a few. His compositions and arrangements have been played in concerts and broadcast worldwide, and some of the most prestigious ballet companies have used his music in numerous performances.
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REVIEW:
The basis of Breiner’s suite is native folksong and one might easily suppose, therefore, that its themes might be catchy and easily remembered. Slovak listeners, certainly, will be humming happily along as they recognise such traditional ditties as My father is but one big headache, My mother told me not to sit in the dark, I must have been crazy and Oh, mother dear, it itches (Slovakian peasant life was clearly no bed of roses).
Anyone born west of Bratislava or east of Humenné is, however, unlikely to be familiar with the original melodies and, bereft of that anchor, may well find that the dances come and go without making that much of a memorable impression. Moreover, I’d imagine that the composer’s distinctly contemporary musical palette risks disconcerting or even alienating a few tradionally-minded listeners who prefer their music delivered in an orchestration more characteristic of the late 19th century.
In spite of any such potential issues, the suite certainly offers plenty of pleasurable moments. Many of them occur, as already suggested, during the dances featuring the “domestic ethno-traditional” solo instrumentalists whose contributions deliver frequent titillation to ears unfamiliar with the sound of fujaras or jew’s harps. Thus, no. 3, the jaunty You enchanting girl, you…, is marked by effective and attractive contributions from the violinist, the accordionist and Ms Friedl’s whistles, as too is no. 9 My little whistle – ititi, ititi. Meanwhile, no. 11 I must have been crazy exhibits an engaging and sinuously oriental atmosphere that perhaps reflects the influence of intermittent Mongol and Ottoman invasions of Slovakia over the centuries. The final dance You little gate with bars is the shortest of the whole set but brings the suite to a close with an appropriate burst of vitality.
– MusicWeb International
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REVIEW:
The basis of Breiner’s suite is native folksong and one might easily suppose, therefore, that its themes might be catchy and easily remembered. Slovak listeners, certainly, will be humming happily along as they recognise such traditional ditties as My father is but one big headache, My mother told me not to sit in the dark, I must have been crazy and Oh, mother dear, it itches (Slovakian peasant life was clearly no bed of roses).
Anyone born west of Bratislava or east of Humenné is, however, unlikely to be familiar with the original melodies and, bereft of that anchor, may well find that the dances come and go without making that much of a memorable impression. Moreover, I’d imagine that the composer’s distinctly contemporary musical palette risks disconcerting or even alienating a few tradionally-minded listeners who prefer their music delivered in an orchestration more characteristic of the late 19th century.
In spite of any such potential issues, the suite certainly offers plenty of pleasurable moments. Many of them occur, as already suggested, during the dances featuring the “domestic ethno-traditional” solo instrumentalists whose contributions deliver frequent titillation to ears unfamiliar with the sound of fujaras or jew’s harps. Thus, no. 3, the jaunty You enchanting girl, you…, is marked by effective and attractive contributions from the violinist, the accordionist and Ms Friedl’s whistles, as too is no. 9 My little whistle – ititi, ititi. Meanwhile, no. 11 I must have been crazy exhibits an engaging and sinuously oriental atmosphere that perhaps reflects the influence of intermittent Mongol and Ottoman invasions of Slovakia over the centuries. The final dance You little gate with bars is the shortest of the whole set but brings the suite to a close with an appropriate burst of vitality.
– MusicWeb International
Dancing in Vienna
SOMM Recordings
CD
$14.99
$18.99
Save 20%
Aug 15, 2025
SOMM Recordings celebrates the wealth of popular concert music produced in Vienna in the 19th and early 20th centuries with a release called Dancing in Vienna, an exhilarating collection of waltzes to set your feet tapping. The Philharmonic Concert Orchestra is led by the versatile Scottish conductor, Iain Sutherland, whose previous, wide-ranging collaborations with SOMM have received enthusiastic critical response: "strong and trenchant, often exhilarating, never sentimental, " Gramophone; "getting pretty much everything right, every nuance and subtle rhythm, " Amazon USA. Einzi Stolz, widow of one of the last masters of Viennese light music, Robert Stolz, wrote to Sutherland, "You have a Viennese heart with the golden arm for Viennese music." Robert Stolz's rousing march, Greetings from Vienna, opens this collection, which also includes his Viennese Cafe Waltzes. Dominating the light music programmes of Vienna for almost a century was the Strauss family-Johann I and his three sons Johann II, Josef, and Eduard. They composed dances and conducted their own orchestras for all the grand balls and concerts almost every day of the week in Vienna, as well as all over the world. Among the works by Johann Strauss II included here is his famous Emperor Waltz, commissioned in 1889 for a state visit by Emperor Franz-Joseph I of Austria-Hungary to Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany. Reflecting the rise of popular Hungarian gypsy music at the time is his Salute the Magyars polka, along with the Trisch Trasch, Thunder and Lightning, and Champagne polkas, and the overture to his operetta masterpiece, Die Fledermaus. Johann II was the most famous of the family of musicians, though he once said of his younger brother, Josef Strauss, that he was "the more gifted of us two; I am merely the more popular..." From Josef Strauss we have the Chatterbox Polka, Dragonfly Polka-Mazurka, Jockey Polka (incorporating the international trumpet call marking the opening of the racing season), the Feuerfest! Polka to celebrate the Wertheim company's 200, 000th fireproof safe, and the beloved Pizzicato Polka, on which he collaborated with popular brother. The youngest of the Strauss brothers, Eduard Strauss, was better recognized as a dance music conductor than as a composer. Still, this release includes his Clear Track Polka, heralding the opening of a new railway company in 1869. Johannes Brahms greatly admired the melodic genius of Johann Strauss II. Their respect was mutual, and Strauss often included his good friend's Hungarian Dances on his programmes. This present collection includes Nos. 1, 5, and 6 from Brahms's collection of 21 dances. The lesser-known composer, author, and musical administrator Richard Heuberger is represented on this CD of Dancing in Vienna by the overture to his light opera, The Opera Ball.
Lully: George Dandin - La Grotte De Versailles / Ensemble Marguerite Louise; Gaetan Jarry
Château de Versailles Spectacles
CD
$20.99
Oct 09, 2020
It was on July 18, 1668 that Moliere successfully performed George Dandin ou le mari confundu, a play mixed with a sung pastoral, for “Le Grand Divertissement Royal de Versailles” offered by Louis XIV to his Court, as a celebration of the Peace of Aachen. This amusing story of a rich peasant who purchases a young noble girl includes interludes set to the splendid music of Lully. The same year sees the promising meeting between Lully and Quinault: together they write for King La Grotte de Versailles, in which Louis is glorified, and dances in person the role of a nymph. These two works, symbolic of the creative vigor of the early days of Versailles, and of the artistic appetite of a thirty-year-old Sovereign, are brought back to life thanks to Gaetan Jarry and Marguerite Louise, with incomparable taste: tambourines, flutes and musettes are part of the festivities and the trumpets proclaim the glory of Louis. Here we have a scintillating echo of the sumptuous festivities given at Versailles by Louis XIV!
Music in Exile - Chamber Works by Paul Ben-Haim
Chandos
CD
$21.99
Jun 25, 2013
BEN-HAIM Piano Quartet in c, op. 4 1. Two Landscapes for Viola and Piano, op. 27 2. Five Pieces for Piano: Canzonetta (No. 4), op. 34 3. Improvisation and Dance for Violin and Piano, op. 30 4. Clarinet Quintet, op. 31a 5 • 1 Benjamin Bowman (vn); 1,2,5 Steven Dann (va); 1,5 Bryan Epperson (vc); 1 David Louie (pn); 2-4 Dianne Werner (pn); 4,5 Erika Raum (vn); 5 Joaquin Valdepeñas (cl); 5 Marie Bérard (vn) • CHANDOS 10769 (77:05)
Here is a long overdue collection of chamber works by Israeli composer Paul Ben-Haim (1897–1984). Only the C-Minor Piano Quartet on this disc is noted as a premiere recording, but to the extent that recordings of any of the other pieces heard here exist, they’re few and far between. Among the five works on the disc, only the Improvisation and Dance shows up in the Fanfare Archive, in a 30:6 review of a Hyperion CD containing several violin and piano works by Ben-Haim, performed by Hagai Shaham and Amon Erez. Otherwise I’m not finding any other current listings for the pieces on this disc. Perhaps I just didn’t look hard enough.
Ben-Haim’s bio, briefly, is as follows: He was born Paul Frankenburger in Munich, studied composition under Friedrich Klose (a former Bruckner student), and served as assistant conductor to Hans Knappertsbusch and Bruno Walter. In 1933, Ben-Haim emigrated to the British Mandate of Palestine, settled in Tel Aviv, Hebraized his name (which means “son of life,” not “to life,” as it’s sometimes incorrectly translated), and became an Israeli citizen in 1948 when the country declared its independence.
The Piano Quartet, composed in 1921 by the young Frankenburger while still in Munich, is easily described. It’s the next piano quartet Brahms would have written had he lived another 24 years. Everything about the piece—the gestural language, the melodic material, the thematic development, and the piano patterns and figurations—evokes the spirit of Brahms, except for one thing. The harmonic context, with its somewhat more liberal application of dissonance, parallelism, and freer approach to progression, suggests that Ben-Haim had received some exposure to Fauré, Debussy, Ravel, and, according to the note, Richard Strauss and Max Reger. Nonetheless, for all its youthful susceptibility to the musical influences that would have been part of Frankenburger’s German world, his Piano Quartet is a masterful and powerful work, at times turbulent and tragic, and at other times meltingly poignant. In three large movements, it’s a big, late romantic work of nearly 30 minutes’ duration. The performance of it by the ARC Ensemble’s players is nothing short of magnificent. But it’s such a compelling work, I can’t imagine it not being taken up by others and becoming part of the standard piano quartet repertoire.
By the time Ben-Haim came to compose the Two Landscapes for viola and piano, respectively titled “The Hills of Judea” and “The Spring,” in 1939, he’d been living in Israel for six years, and his style had already radically changed as a result of adapting to his surroundings and embracing his Jewish culture. We now hear in these two short musical sketches the familiar sounds of nomads in the desert and the exoticisms we tend to associate with the Hebraic melos.
Alone among the pieces on this disc, the Improvisation and Dance , also composed in 1939, is the one that has enjoyed a bit more exposure on disc. As noted above, it was included on Hyperion’s CD (67571), coupled with works by Bloch, and it can be heard in an all-Ben-Haim program of works on a Centaur CD (2766), which also contains the composer’s arrangement of the last movement of his Clarinet Quintet, op. 31a (on this disc) as the Pastorale variée for Clarinet, Harp, and String Orchestra, op. 31b. Ben-Haim dedicated The Improvisation and Dance for Violin and Piano to Zino Francescatti. Whether he ever recorded it or not, I don’t know, but Francescatti did record Ben-Haim’s G-Major Sonata for Solo Violin in 1958, a recording that has circulated on more than one label, but is currently available on an Orfeo CD (711081).
The Improvisation movement is a kind of free-flowing dolente thing, marked Molto rubato , and evoking that image, once again, of a camel caravan wending its way across the desert dunes. The Dance movement, as you’d expect, is an animated, spirited, strongly accented rhythmic piece that sounds like a bunch of riled-up shtetl Klezmerim going after a marauding mob of Bartók’s Rumanian peasants.
In 1944, Ben-Haim composed a set of five piano miniatures, published as Five Pieces for Piano, op. 34. Considering that the timing of the disc is a generous 77 minutes, it’s churlish to complain that Dianne Werner gives us only one of the pieces from the group, No. 4, titled “Canzonetta,” but you can hear the entire set, for free no less, in a number of YouTube performances by half-a-dozen different pianists. The style Ben-Haim adopts for these pieces is best characterized as Impressionistic.
Originally written in 1941, the Clarinet Quintet was revised in 1965, and, as mentioned above, Ben-Haim rescored its last movement, a set of variations, for clarinet, harp, and string orchestra, assigning it the same opus number, but with a “b” appended. Like the Piano Quintet that opens the disc, the Clarinet Quintet is a large three-movement work lasting over 27 minutes, but unlike the much earlier Quartet, the Quintet is in a dissonant, occasionally almost atonal language that’s more difficult to penetrate in just one or two hearings. But the score’s romantic impulses do break through to the surface now and then, reminding us once again of Ben-Haim’s musical roots.
On that subject, there remains some controversy regarding Ben-Haim’s bona fides as an authentic Israeli composer. Not all commentators and critics accept Ben-Haim as either a true Israeli composer or even a particularly significant composer. An in-depth online paper by Ronit Seter in Volume 9 (2011) of Israeli Studies in Musicology Online (biu.ac.il/hu/mu/min-ad/11/Seter-Hirshberg_Ben-Haim.pdf) cites a number of sources that advance the opinion that Ben-Haim, not entirely unlike Ernest Bloch, was essentially a European romantic who colored his works with Hebraic-sounding melodies and harmonies without making a real effort to explore the more modern “art” music of some of his Israeli contemporaries, like Josef Tal, for example. What I read in this, however, is sour grapes. The crux of the criticism seems to me to be not that Ben-Haim wasn’t Jewish or Israeli enough, but that he wasn’t modern enough—that he retained his romantic roots far into the 20th century, resisting the various avant-garde movements, and that he continued to compose music that’s beautiful and deeply moving.
That can certainly be said of the works on this disc. The players that make up the ARC Ensemble give deeply committed performances of every one of them, and Chandos’s usual wide-range and deep sound stage add excellent dimensionality to the recording. Urgently recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Here is a long overdue collection of chamber works by Israeli composer Paul Ben-Haim (1897–1984). Only the C-Minor Piano Quartet on this disc is noted as a premiere recording, but to the extent that recordings of any of the other pieces heard here exist, they’re few and far between. Among the five works on the disc, only the Improvisation and Dance shows up in the Fanfare Archive, in a 30:6 review of a Hyperion CD containing several violin and piano works by Ben-Haim, performed by Hagai Shaham and Amon Erez. Otherwise I’m not finding any other current listings for the pieces on this disc. Perhaps I just didn’t look hard enough.
Ben-Haim’s bio, briefly, is as follows: He was born Paul Frankenburger in Munich, studied composition under Friedrich Klose (a former Bruckner student), and served as assistant conductor to Hans Knappertsbusch and Bruno Walter. In 1933, Ben-Haim emigrated to the British Mandate of Palestine, settled in Tel Aviv, Hebraized his name (which means “son of life,” not “to life,” as it’s sometimes incorrectly translated), and became an Israeli citizen in 1948 when the country declared its independence.
The Piano Quartet, composed in 1921 by the young Frankenburger while still in Munich, is easily described. It’s the next piano quartet Brahms would have written had he lived another 24 years. Everything about the piece—the gestural language, the melodic material, the thematic development, and the piano patterns and figurations—evokes the spirit of Brahms, except for one thing. The harmonic context, with its somewhat more liberal application of dissonance, parallelism, and freer approach to progression, suggests that Ben-Haim had received some exposure to Fauré, Debussy, Ravel, and, according to the note, Richard Strauss and Max Reger. Nonetheless, for all its youthful susceptibility to the musical influences that would have been part of Frankenburger’s German world, his Piano Quartet is a masterful and powerful work, at times turbulent and tragic, and at other times meltingly poignant. In three large movements, it’s a big, late romantic work of nearly 30 minutes’ duration. The performance of it by the ARC Ensemble’s players is nothing short of magnificent. But it’s such a compelling work, I can’t imagine it not being taken up by others and becoming part of the standard piano quartet repertoire.
By the time Ben-Haim came to compose the Two Landscapes for viola and piano, respectively titled “The Hills of Judea” and “The Spring,” in 1939, he’d been living in Israel for six years, and his style had already radically changed as a result of adapting to his surroundings and embracing his Jewish culture. We now hear in these two short musical sketches the familiar sounds of nomads in the desert and the exoticisms we tend to associate with the Hebraic melos.
Alone among the pieces on this disc, the Improvisation and Dance , also composed in 1939, is the one that has enjoyed a bit more exposure on disc. As noted above, it was included on Hyperion’s CD (67571), coupled with works by Bloch, and it can be heard in an all-Ben-Haim program of works on a Centaur CD (2766), which also contains the composer’s arrangement of the last movement of his Clarinet Quintet, op. 31a (on this disc) as the Pastorale variée for Clarinet, Harp, and String Orchestra, op. 31b. Ben-Haim dedicated The Improvisation and Dance for Violin and Piano to Zino Francescatti. Whether he ever recorded it or not, I don’t know, but Francescatti did record Ben-Haim’s G-Major Sonata for Solo Violin in 1958, a recording that has circulated on more than one label, but is currently available on an Orfeo CD (711081).
The Improvisation movement is a kind of free-flowing dolente thing, marked Molto rubato , and evoking that image, once again, of a camel caravan wending its way across the desert dunes. The Dance movement, as you’d expect, is an animated, spirited, strongly accented rhythmic piece that sounds like a bunch of riled-up shtetl Klezmerim going after a marauding mob of Bartók’s Rumanian peasants.
In 1944, Ben-Haim composed a set of five piano miniatures, published as Five Pieces for Piano, op. 34. Considering that the timing of the disc is a generous 77 minutes, it’s churlish to complain that Dianne Werner gives us only one of the pieces from the group, No. 4, titled “Canzonetta,” but you can hear the entire set, for free no less, in a number of YouTube performances by half-a-dozen different pianists. The style Ben-Haim adopts for these pieces is best characterized as Impressionistic.
Originally written in 1941, the Clarinet Quintet was revised in 1965, and, as mentioned above, Ben-Haim rescored its last movement, a set of variations, for clarinet, harp, and string orchestra, assigning it the same opus number, but with a “b” appended. Like the Piano Quintet that opens the disc, the Clarinet Quintet is a large three-movement work lasting over 27 minutes, but unlike the much earlier Quartet, the Quintet is in a dissonant, occasionally almost atonal language that’s more difficult to penetrate in just one or two hearings. But the score’s romantic impulses do break through to the surface now and then, reminding us once again of Ben-Haim’s musical roots.
On that subject, there remains some controversy regarding Ben-Haim’s bona fides as an authentic Israeli composer. Not all commentators and critics accept Ben-Haim as either a true Israeli composer or even a particularly significant composer. An in-depth online paper by Ronit Seter in Volume 9 (2011) of Israeli Studies in Musicology Online (biu.ac.il/hu/mu/min-ad/11/Seter-Hirshberg_Ben-Haim.pdf) cites a number of sources that advance the opinion that Ben-Haim, not entirely unlike Ernest Bloch, was essentially a European romantic who colored his works with Hebraic-sounding melodies and harmonies without making a real effort to explore the more modern “art” music of some of his Israeli contemporaries, like Josef Tal, for example. What I read in this, however, is sour grapes. The crux of the criticism seems to me to be not that Ben-Haim wasn’t Jewish or Israeli enough, but that he wasn’t modern enough—that he retained his romantic roots far into the 20th century, resisting the various avant-garde movements, and that he continued to compose music that’s beautiful and deeply moving.
That can certainly be said of the works on this disc. The players that make up the ARC Ensemble give deeply committed performances of every one of them, and Chandos’s usual wide-range and deep sound stage add excellent dimensionality to the recording. Urgently recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Grieg: Complete Solo Piano Music / Knardahl, Derwinger
BIS
CD
$99.99
Oct 01, 2006
A beautifully packaged box of the complete Grieg piano music on BIS and a fantastic deal at 12 CDs for the price of 3.
There is so much here that one can explore these works for years and never truly get to the bottom of them... a collection of gems that sparkle from any angle.
Eva Knardahl's recordings of Grieg's music for solo piano – here completed with recordings by Love Derwinger of the works unpublished during Grieg's lifetime – have been a milestone ever since they were first released on LP at the end of the 1970s. The Norwegian pianist's interpretations of the music of her countryman blew away decades worth of cobwebs and caused many to reconsider an oeuvre of which one part was so well-known as to risk becoming banal and another was all but unknown. At the time of the first release one reviewer likened Knardahl to ‘an Alicia de Larrocha of the North, who makes her instrument ring out like a cathedral’. When the recordings were re-released on CD, another wrote that her performances ‘suggest that there's a lot more to Grieg's several hundred little pieces than pretty lyricism ... She brings a forthrightness and color to the Norwegian master – even a countrified robustness – that few have suspected is there. Knardahl's performance of the famous Piano Concerto is a rendering full of grandeur, poetry and power. She can really stand comparison with any of her rivals.’
FULL REVIEW
Norwegian-born pianist Eva Knardahl, who died in late 2006, had a very long career. Well-known in her native Norway, she made her debut at the age of 12 performing with the Oslo Philharmonic Orchestra. Throughout her life, she recorded a variety of works for piano, paying special attention to the works of Norwegian composer Edvard Grieg. This box set contains 12 CDs, covering all of Grieg’s compositions for piano.
Knardahl performs on the first ten discs in the set, and Love Derwinger is the pianist for the recordings on discs 11 and 12. This is a repackaging of individual discs that were released over the years, with the Knardahl recordings made between 1977 and 1980, and the Derwinger recordings dating from 1993. It seems unfair that only Knardahl gets her name on the front of the box; Derwinger is credited only on the back. Knaredahly’s recordings were issued first on LP and then reissued on CD in 1987.
The set contains a comprehensive booklet in English, Swedish, German and French, nearly 180 pages long - about 30 pages of text for each language. Fortunately, unlike many other Bis booklets, this one printed in a font that does not require a magnifying glass to read.
Grieg's piano music is one of the monuments of keyboard music, and probably deserves to be regarded much more highly. While not as intense as Beethoven's piano sonatas, or the works of Chopin or Liszt; while not as lofty as the vast output of Bach or that of Mozart, Grieg's piano music combines not only a unique impressionistic approach to the piano, but also elements of folk music from his native Norway. On top of that, many of the tunes in the short pieces are so engaging that you'll find yourself humming them.
Grieg's piano works are mostly made up of short pieces. His 66 lyric pieces, were composed throughout his career but there are also collections of Norwegian folk songs, peasant dances and other works. With just one piano sonata, and one piano concerto - but what a concerto! - his oeuvre is largely one of miniatures. But the size of these works in no way detracts from their interest and force. One can simply listen to the first of the Lyric Pieces, Arietta, to understand just how subtle Grieg's compositional style is. In a simple-sounding ballad of just over a minute, he manages not only to paint a melancholy picture, but also demonstrates that his harmonies are unique and unforgettable. This is a brief piano piece that is more a song without words than a statement of keyboard music.
The three discs of lyric pieces span his entire career, so listening to them in order offers not just a journey through melody, but also an opportunity to listen to how Grieg's style grew over time. His Op. 4 no. 3, Melody, has an intense, melodramatic sound, as does, for example, Op. 54, no. 1, Shepherd's Boy, which is a dark work. Some pieces have such lightness that one can only smile when listening to them. In a way, however, it is fitting that the final work in this series, Op. 71, no. 7, Forgetting, is a reworking of one of the earliest lyric pieces, Waltz, Op. 12 no. 2. Grieg comes full circle with this last lyric piece, showing the subtle ways in which his music evolved.
While there is pleasure enough in listening to the progression of Grieg's style through the first three discs of lyric pieces, one can start again with disc 4, which begins another examination of Grieg's career in chronological order. While it makes sense to group the lyric pieces on the first three discs - which also corresponds to the original release of these recordings on individual discs - it might have been more logical to reorder all the music so the twelve discs flowed in chronological sequence, rather than having two "sets" within the box.
Beginning with the earliest pieces, his Op. 1, Four Piano Pieces, his Poetic Tone-Pictures (Op. 3) and so on, the set traverses his output. In spite of the different names given to groups of works, Grieg's tone does not vary a great deal. All the pieces cover a range of tones from melancholy to exuberant, from bittersweet to pastoral.
An exception can be found in his sets of Norwegian folk songs, where he arranged the raw material of his country's music heritage for solo piano. These helped gain him greater notice, and are one of the finest examples of folk-music brought into the concert hall. There are dozens of such works, many of them tiny gems, others more substantial.
Grieg also wrote one piano sonata, which is somewhat different, on the surface, from his smaller works. A true romantic sonata, it nevertheless features his now familiar song-like approach to music, especially in its second movement. This sonata was and is often performed, yet it is surprising that he did not write another. He remained more interested in his miniatures though he also wrote orchestral and chamber works. In the same manner, he composed just the one piano concerto, which is an extremely popular and oft-performed work. It is played here by Knardahl, with the original version also performed by Love Derwinger.
One work that stands out is the Ballade in G minor, Op. 24, the longest amongst Grieg's pianistic output at just over 20 minutes in this recording. This comprises a series of 14 variations on a Norwegian folk song. Grieg composed this piece after the deaths of his parents in the autumn of 1875. He was overcome with grief, and that comes through in this densely emotional work Knardahl plays it with her emotions at her fingertips.
Some of the pieces are transcriptions from Grieg's larger orchestral works, such as Peer Gynt, Sigurd Jorsalfar, and the Holberg Suite. Grieg very much enjoyed making piano reductions of these works, and his transcriptions shed interesting light on the larger works from which they derive.
The last two discs contain works not published during Grieg's lifetime. Whether the early version of the Piano Concerto, alternate versions of a few works, or some very early pieces that he never deemed interesting enough for publication, these two discs in essence offer the extras or out-takes of Grieg's piano output.
Across the 787 minutes of this set, I have to confess to a preference for Grieg's shorter pieces over the piano sonata, concerto and Ballade. From almost any time in his career, from his lyric pieces to the Norwegian folk songs, from his "short pieces" to his transcriptions of his own songs, dipping into this astounding range of work is never disappointing. In the same way that Schubert rarely wrote a mediocre lied, Grieg has very few weak piano pieces. You can dip into these works at any time and the gods of shuffle will pull out an interesting juxtaposition of pieces that, in spite of when they were composed, fit together organically. There is so much here - again, the comparison to Schubert's lieder comes to mind - that one can explore these works for years and never truly get to the bottom of them. While the last two discs contain some works that are, perhaps, minor, the remainder of this set is a collection of gems that sparkle from any angle.
The recording quality of these discs is excellent, and the piano sounds present without too much reverb, though the Derwinger recordings are a bit hollower than the Knardahl discs. The recording hall adds a different type of reverb, and Derwinger plays a Steinway to Knardahl’s Bösendorfer. For an interesting recording, you might also want to listen to Leif Ove Andsnes' selection of Lyric Pieces played on Grieg's own piano. Given the price and completeness of this set, and the quality of the performances, there is little reason for you to hesitate. Even if you've only sampled Grieg's works in the past, this budget set is a fine reason to discover the full range of his piano compositions. Should you not want all this Grieg, however, the individual discs are still available from BIS, and the three CDs of Lyric Pieces would be a great purchase.
-- Kirk McElhearn, MusicWeb International
![Mozart: Le Nozze Di Figaro / Ticciati, Glyndebourne Festival [blu-ray]](http://arkivmusic.com/cdn/shop/files/2248449.jpg?v=1786839047&width=800)
![Mozart: Le Nozze Di Figaro / Ticciati, Glyndebourne Festival [blu-ray]](http://arkivmusic.com/cdn/shop/files/91H0QYMfDVL.jpg?v=1786839048&width=800)
Mozart: Le Nozze Di Figaro / Ticciati, Glyndebourne Festival [blu-ray]
Opus Arte
Blu-Ray
$39.99
Jun 25, 2013
This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.
Also available on standard DVD
Perhaps no opera is closely and affectionately associated with a single house as Le nozze di Figaro is with Glyndebourne. Effortlessly witty yet shot through with pain and sadness, this deeply ambivalent life in the day of masters and servants as they scheme and outwit one another was Glyndebourne’s opening production in 1934. Michael Grandage’s staging is the seventh, set in a louche Sixties ambience. Marshalled by the ‘ideal pacing’ of Robin Ticciati, a youthful cast of principals has ‘no weak link’ and ‘looks gorgeous’ (The Sunday Times) in a production that continues Glyndebourne’s rewarding history of engagement with Mozart’s and da Ponte’s ‘day of madness’.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
LE NOZZE DI FIGARO
(Blu-ray Disc Version)
Countess Almaviva – Sally Matthews
Figaro – Vito Priante
Count Almaviva – Audun Iversen
Susanna – Lydia Teuscher
Cherubino – Isabel Leonard
Bartolo – Andrew Shore
Marcellina – Ann Murray
Don Basilio – Alan Oke
Antonio – Nicholas Folwell
Don Curzio – Colin Judson
Barbarina – Sarah Shafer
First Bridesmaid – Ellie Laugharne
Second Bridesmaid – Katie Bray
Glyndebourne Chorus
Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment
Robin Ticciati, conductor
Michael Grandage, stage director
Recorded live at Glyndebourne Festival, June 2012
Bonus:
- The Greatest Opera Ever Written
- From page to stage
Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Japanese, Korean
Running time: 180 mins
No. of Discs: 1
REVIEWS
Despite some qualification, Glyndebourne’s new Figaro (summer 2012) is a delight. The curtain opens during the overture on the outside of a Spanish mansion—just what we might expect from an opera set on the outskirts of Seville—with shiny tiles, Moorish arches, and handsome latticework, and townsfolk bustling back and forth. It’s startling to see a circa late-1960s red sports car pull up and have the Almavivas get out: they’re coming home from somewhere or settling into their summer getaway. The Count is the very picture of not-such-great-taste, sporting a page-boy haircut and costumed in a velvet suit with bell-bottomed pants and a wide-lapelled, multi-colored shirt. He obviously is quite a swinging dude, and director Michael Grandage and his wonderful designer Christopher Oram have placed the opera in the decade of the flower children. Will this work?
We meet Figaro and Susanna, dressed more moderately (she would appear to be pregnant in a black outfit with white collar, but it’s never mentioned) and nicely familiar. She is spunky and he seems like a nice guy, and he certainly doesn’t like the fact that his boss wants to sleep with his fiancée, although she seems able to take care of herself. And why should Figaro like it? This is the 1960s or ’70s, and despite the fact that Franco is still in power, the Count’s request is not a feudal right; it’s nothing but bullying. And so Beaumarchais’ and da Ponte’s satire on class war no longer exists, and that tends to be the crux of the opera in its original setting.
Instead, we get the never-ending battle of the sexes, a look at an unhappy marriage, and a rather nasty, wealthy guy with a sense of entitlement along with a pretty good comedy peopled by what seem like real people. During “Non piu andrai”, which Figaro sings while the Count is present, the two men hang out like chums, Figaro leaning with an arm on the Count’s shoulder. Susanna never curtsies and she seems genuinely concerned with cheering up the Countess. If you’re willing to forego the pre-Revolutionary subtext, you’ll have a fine time, especially watching the cast do the twist at the wedding and during the finale. The absolutely natural stage action eschews slapstick and vulgarity and the singers seem more than happy to adapt. Vito Priante’s Figaro, shorn of class anger, is a bit mild, but his stage presence and singing are extraordinary. Rhythmically precise throughout, he eats up “Aprite un po’…” in the last act and is superb in ensembles. Lydia Teuscher’s Susanna is a rich-voiced, non-soubrette, observant Countess-in-the-making; and of course, within this context she might some day have the same social standing. Sally Matthews, if she had a trill for the end of “Dov’e sono”, would be a perfect Countess: her predicament is very clear, and you sense that she wishes she were more lighthearted, more able to adjust to the swinging attitudes going on around her. The voice itself is a gorgeous, full lyric. Audun Iversen’s Count is a sloppy, privileged tyrant, all the more frustrated because no one will pay any attention to his nastiness. His singing is the least neat of all, but he’s a powerful presence. Isabel Leonard’s Cherubino is perfect—boyish and sassy and nimble.
Class acts Ann Murray and Andrew Shore, both a bit vocally worn, are nonetheless a terrific Marzellina and Bartolo, and Alan Oke’s Basilio is snidely right-on. (Neither he nor Marzellina get their last-act arias.) Sarah Shafer is a fine Barbarina, looking to be about 14 years old. And as mentioned, Oram’s luxurious sets add to the special feel of the production. I’m somewhat stumped by Robin Ticciati’s conducting of the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. The instruments are period but the approach is mid-20th century—not slow or heavy, really, but somehow lacking the zip we expect these days. The finale of Act 2 is wonderfully clear but lacks the “accidental” mania it should have. There are plenty of laughs from the Glyndebourne audience, but the whole affair is not the insane day Mozart envisioned. The preferred DVD versions are Pappano’s from Covent Garden (Opus Arte) and Jacobs’ (on BelAir); nonetheless, this new one is fresh and charming and a good bet.
-- Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com
--------3722890.az_MOZART_Le_Figaro.html
MOZART Le nozze di Figaro & • Robin Ticciati, cond; Vito Priante (Figaro); Lydia Teuscher (Susanna); Audun Iversen (Almaviva); Sally Matthews (Countess); Isabel Leonard (Cherubino); Ann Murray (Marcellina); Andrew Shore (Bartolo); Sarah Shafer (Barbarina); Alan Oke (Don Basilio); O of the Age of Enlightenment; Glyndebourne Ch • OPUS ARTE 7118 (Blu-ray: 154:00+14:00) Live: Glyndebourne 2012
& Le Nozze di Figaro: The Greatest Opera Ever Written? Le Nozze di Figaro: From Page to Stage
What do we have here? A Marriage of Figaro where the noble couple arrive home in a snazzy Austin-Healey convertible; where the Susanna sports a 1950s-style maternity top and an obvious baby bump in her wedding dress; where the Count wears a velour-trousered leisure suit with bell bottoms, and shares a hand-rolled joint with his maid while trying to grope her; where the peasants at the festivities (along with the Count) dance the Twist and the Frug; where several of the characters look like they were outfitted on London’s Carnaby Street in the 1960s. We get all of that, along with some lavish Moorish-style sets and a historically informed pit band, in this 2012 Blu-ray video from the Glyndebourne Festival. Helped along by some excellent singing, it all proves quite satisfactory and highly entertaining.
I’m not sure a pregnant Susanna makes much more sense than a pregnant Juliet; after all, the Count is supposed to be trying to amorously seduce her, and is asked to attest to her virginal status prior to the wedding. But when a pregnant lead soprano turns up for work, I suppose the show must go on. The soprano in question, young German lyric Lydia Teuscher, does, in truth, look quite attractive and well worth seducing even in maternity garb, and the fine singing she brings to Susanna more than compensates for the slight loss in verity to Da Ponte’s libretto. In fact, all of the singing is quite excellent, down to the luxury casting of noted mezzo-soprano Ann Murray in the role of Marcellina. (Unfortunately, her act IV aria, along with Don Basilio’s, is cut.) Young Italian bass-baritone Vito Priante brings a rich and accurate instrument to Mozart’s title character, and his rather hyperkinetic acting has been toned down a bit by director Michael Grandage to more properly fit the production concept (and the close-up cameras). Aside from Murray, the best-known singer in the cast is probably British soprano Sally Matthews, who here is a quite lovely and enjoyable Countess and provides finely sung versions of “Porgi amor” and “Dove sono.” She also combines beautifully with Teuscher to sing a consummate “Sull’ aria,” one of my favorite duets in all opera. The Count with his 60s-style Mod haircut, mustache, and hippie style clothes, comes off as a bit ridiculous, robbing the character of any real menace, but baritone Audun Iversen also has a fine, rich voice, and brings a rather comedic swagger to the part. He also brings much avid physical contact to his enthusiastic pursuit of Susanna. (One might wonder why in the Act IV Garden Scene he fails to notice the lady he is embracing is minus the belly). Isabel Leonard continues her rapid climb to the top ranks with this lively and endearing portrayal of boy Cherubino; some say she steals the show here. Oh, and she can really sing, a joy to listen to. As usual for Glyndebourne, the smaller roles are finely cast as well. The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment provides a properly light touch in Mozart’s score, just as this wonderful little light comedy demands.
There are over 20 versions of this opera out on video, several fine ones among them. In Blu-ray format the field is much smaller. Perhaps the Covent Garden production from 2006 with Erwin Schrott in the title role is the equal to this one, I haven’t seen it, but it has gotten good reviews. As with nearly all Glyndebourne productions I have seen, they provide full value here with elegant sets, fine singers, and a well-rehearsed cast in a charming staging. Le Nozze is a bit of a special opera for the Festival, as it inaugurated the series back in 1934 with a cast including the owner’s wife, Audrey Mildmay. The Glyndebourne forces have done the opera full justice in this new production, and this entertaining Blu-ray set deserves to be highly recommended.
FANFARE: Bill White
Also available on standard DVD
Perhaps no opera is closely and affectionately associated with a single house as Le nozze di Figaro is with Glyndebourne. Effortlessly witty yet shot through with pain and sadness, this deeply ambivalent life in the day of masters and servants as they scheme and outwit one another was Glyndebourne’s opening production in 1934. Michael Grandage’s staging is the seventh, set in a louche Sixties ambience. Marshalled by the ‘ideal pacing’ of Robin Ticciati, a youthful cast of principals has ‘no weak link’ and ‘looks gorgeous’ (The Sunday Times) in a production that continues Glyndebourne’s rewarding history of engagement with Mozart’s and da Ponte’s ‘day of madness’.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
LE NOZZE DI FIGARO
(Blu-ray Disc Version)
Countess Almaviva – Sally Matthews
Figaro – Vito Priante
Count Almaviva – Audun Iversen
Susanna – Lydia Teuscher
Cherubino – Isabel Leonard
Bartolo – Andrew Shore
Marcellina – Ann Murray
Don Basilio – Alan Oke
Antonio – Nicholas Folwell
Don Curzio – Colin Judson
Barbarina – Sarah Shafer
First Bridesmaid – Ellie Laugharne
Second Bridesmaid – Katie Bray
Glyndebourne Chorus
Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment
Robin Ticciati, conductor
Michael Grandage, stage director
Recorded live at Glyndebourne Festival, June 2012
Bonus:
- The Greatest Opera Ever Written
- From page to stage
Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Japanese, Korean
Running time: 180 mins
No. of Discs: 1
REVIEWS
Despite some qualification, Glyndebourne’s new Figaro (summer 2012) is a delight. The curtain opens during the overture on the outside of a Spanish mansion—just what we might expect from an opera set on the outskirts of Seville—with shiny tiles, Moorish arches, and handsome latticework, and townsfolk bustling back and forth. It’s startling to see a circa late-1960s red sports car pull up and have the Almavivas get out: they’re coming home from somewhere or settling into their summer getaway. The Count is the very picture of not-such-great-taste, sporting a page-boy haircut and costumed in a velvet suit with bell-bottomed pants and a wide-lapelled, multi-colored shirt. He obviously is quite a swinging dude, and director Michael Grandage and his wonderful designer Christopher Oram have placed the opera in the decade of the flower children. Will this work?
We meet Figaro and Susanna, dressed more moderately (she would appear to be pregnant in a black outfit with white collar, but it’s never mentioned) and nicely familiar. She is spunky and he seems like a nice guy, and he certainly doesn’t like the fact that his boss wants to sleep with his fiancée, although she seems able to take care of herself. And why should Figaro like it? This is the 1960s or ’70s, and despite the fact that Franco is still in power, the Count’s request is not a feudal right; it’s nothing but bullying. And so Beaumarchais’ and da Ponte’s satire on class war no longer exists, and that tends to be the crux of the opera in its original setting.
Instead, we get the never-ending battle of the sexes, a look at an unhappy marriage, and a rather nasty, wealthy guy with a sense of entitlement along with a pretty good comedy peopled by what seem like real people. During “Non piu andrai”, which Figaro sings while the Count is present, the two men hang out like chums, Figaro leaning with an arm on the Count’s shoulder. Susanna never curtsies and she seems genuinely concerned with cheering up the Countess. If you’re willing to forego the pre-Revolutionary subtext, you’ll have a fine time, especially watching the cast do the twist at the wedding and during the finale. The absolutely natural stage action eschews slapstick and vulgarity and the singers seem more than happy to adapt. Vito Priante’s Figaro, shorn of class anger, is a bit mild, but his stage presence and singing are extraordinary. Rhythmically precise throughout, he eats up “Aprite un po’…” in the last act and is superb in ensembles. Lydia Teuscher’s Susanna is a rich-voiced, non-soubrette, observant Countess-in-the-making; and of course, within this context she might some day have the same social standing. Sally Matthews, if she had a trill for the end of “Dov’e sono”, would be a perfect Countess: her predicament is very clear, and you sense that she wishes she were more lighthearted, more able to adjust to the swinging attitudes going on around her. The voice itself is a gorgeous, full lyric. Audun Iversen’s Count is a sloppy, privileged tyrant, all the more frustrated because no one will pay any attention to his nastiness. His singing is the least neat of all, but he’s a powerful presence. Isabel Leonard’s Cherubino is perfect—boyish and sassy and nimble.
Class acts Ann Murray and Andrew Shore, both a bit vocally worn, are nonetheless a terrific Marzellina and Bartolo, and Alan Oke’s Basilio is snidely right-on. (Neither he nor Marzellina get their last-act arias.) Sarah Shafer is a fine Barbarina, looking to be about 14 years old. And as mentioned, Oram’s luxurious sets add to the special feel of the production. I’m somewhat stumped by Robin Ticciati’s conducting of the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. The instruments are period but the approach is mid-20th century—not slow or heavy, really, but somehow lacking the zip we expect these days. The finale of Act 2 is wonderfully clear but lacks the “accidental” mania it should have. There are plenty of laughs from the Glyndebourne audience, but the whole affair is not the insane day Mozart envisioned. The preferred DVD versions are Pappano’s from Covent Garden (Opus Arte) and Jacobs’ (on BelAir); nonetheless, this new one is fresh and charming and a good bet.
-- Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com
--------
MOZART Le nozze di Figaro & • Robin Ticciati, cond; Vito Priante (Figaro); Lydia Teuscher (Susanna); Audun Iversen (Almaviva); Sally Matthews (Countess); Isabel Leonard (Cherubino); Ann Murray (Marcellina); Andrew Shore (Bartolo); Sarah Shafer (Barbarina); Alan Oke (Don Basilio); O of the Age of Enlightenment; Glyndebourne Ch • OPUS ARTE 7118 (Blu-ray: 154:00+14:00) Live: Glyndebourne 2012
& Le Nozze di Figaro: The Greatest Opera Ever Written? Le Nozze di Figaro: From Page to Stage
What do we have here? A Marriage of Figaro where the noble couple arrive home in a snazzy Austin-Healey convertible; where the Susanna sports a 1950s-style maternity top and an obvious baby bump in her wedding dress; where the Count wears a velour-trousered leisure suit with bell bottoms, and shares a hand-rolled joint with his maid while trying to grope her; where the peasants at the festivities (along with the Count) dance the Twist and the Frug; where several of the characters look like they were outfitted on London’s Carnaby Street in the 1960s. We get all of that, along with some lavish Moorish-style sets and a historically informed pit band, in this 2012 Blu-ray video from the Glyndebourne Festival. Helped along by some excellent singing, it all proves quite satisfactory and highly entertaining.
I’m not sure a pregnant Susanna makes much more sense than a pregnant Juliet; after all, the Count is supposed to be trying to amorously seduce her, and is asked to attest to her virginal status prior to the wedding. But when a pregnant lead soprano turns up for work, I suppose the show must go on. The soprano in question, young German lyric Lydia Teuscher, does, in truth, look quite attractive and well worth seducing even in maternity garb, and the fine singing she brings to Susanna more than compensates for the slight loss in verity to Da Ponte’s libretto. In fact, all of the singing is quite excellent, down to the luxury casting of noted mezzo-soprano Ann Murray in the role of Marcellina. (Unfortunately, her act IV aria, along with Don Basilio’s, is cut.) Young Italian bass-baritone Vito Priante brings a rich and accurate instrument to Mozart’s title character, and his rather hyperkinetic acting has been toned down a bit by director Michael Grandage to more properly fit the production concept (and the close-up cameras). Aside from Murray, the best-known singer in the cast is probably British soprano Sally Matthews, who here is a quite lovely and enjoyable Countess and provides finely sung versions of “Porgi amor” and “Dove sono.” She also combines beautifully with Teuscher to sing a consummate “Sull’ aria,” one of my favorite duets in all opera. The Count with his 60s-style Mod haircut, mustache, and hippie style clothes, comes off as a bit ridiculous, robbing the character of any real menace, but baritone Audun Iversen also has a fine, rich voice, and brings a rather comedic swagger to the part. He also brings much avid physical contact to his enthusiastic pursuit of Susanna. (One might wonder why in the Act IV Garden Scene he fails to notice the lady he is embracing is minus the belly). Isabel Leonard continues her rapid climb to the top ranks with this lively and endearing portrayal of boy Cherubino; some say she steals the show here. Oh, and she can really sing, a joy to listen to. As usual for Glyndebourne, the smaller roles are finely cast as well. The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment provides a properly light touch in Mozart’s score, just as this wonderful little light comedy demands.
There are over 20 versions of this opera out on video, several fine ones among them. In Blu-ray format the field is much smaller. Perhaps the Covent Garden production from 2006 with Erwin Schrott in the title role is the equal to this one, I haven’t seen it, but it has gotten good reviews. As with nearly all Glyndebourne productions I have seen, they provide full value here with elegant sets, fine singers, and a well-rehearsed cast in a charming staging. Le Nozze is a bit of a special opera for the Festival, as it inaugurated the series back in 1934 with a cast including the owner’s wife, Audrey Mildmay. The Glyndebourne forces have done the opera full justice in this new production, and this entertaining Blu-ray set deserves to be highly recommended.
FANFARE: Bill White
![Mozart: Le Nozze Di Figaro / Ticciati, Glyndebourne Festival [blu-ray]](http://arkivmusic.com/cdn/shop/files/2248449.jpg?v=1786839047&width=400)
Dvorak: Piano Quartets / Sucharova-Weiser, Vlach Quartet
Naxos
CD
$19.99
Dec 15, 2009
DVO?ÁK Piano Quartets: in D, op. 23; in E?, op. 87 • Members of the Vlach Quartet; Helena Suchárová-Weiser (pn) • NAXOS 8572159 (71: 11)
In the history of chamber-music-ensemble configurations, the piano quartet is a relative newcomer to the scene. The first such works are believed to have been written by Mozart in response to a commission from composer-publisher Anton Hoffmeister. His first, in G Minor, appeared in 1785, and a second, in E? Major, followed in 1786, but not before Hoffmeister, who was expecting string quartets, had expressed his displeasure and released Mozart from further obligation. Around this same time, however, a teenaged Beethoven, still living under his parents’ roof in Bonn, also penned three piano quartets (see Fanfare 33:2 for further details). Whether he came upon the same idea as Mozart simultaneously but independently, or the light bulb went on when he heard Mozart’s quartets during a visit to Vienna in 1787, remains unknown. What is known, or strongly believed, is that before Mozart and Beethoven, the piano quartet did not exist. For all of his string quartets and piano trios, Haydn never made the leap, nor, as far we know, did anyone else.
It seemed like a really good idea—better than a string quartet in not being so treble oriented with two violins, and better than a piano trio in not sacrificing the alto viola string voice. Yet, for some reason, the piano quartet never caught on like its older siblings, and even among those composers who did make the effort—Weber (1), Mendelssohn (3), Marschner (2), Schumann (1), Theodor Kirchner (1), Dvo?ák (2), Brahms (3), Fauré (2), Enescu (2), Martin? (1), Walton (1), Bridge (2), Copland (1), Turina (1), and one or two others—the results are not generally cited at the top of their best works lists (except perhaps in the cases of Brahms and Fauré). Moreover, the number of piano quartets written following Mozart and Beethoven pales in comparison to the number of string quartets and piano trios.
Dvo?ák tried his hand at the medium twice, once in 1875, and again in 1889. Dvo?ák is a composer I periodically fall in and out of love with; currently, I think I’m in one of my not so loving phases. As I’ve had occasion to say before, his predisposition to prolixity seems to present itself in inverse proportion to the interest and sustainability of his musical material. In simple terms, the less he had to say, the longer he went on about it—not unlike some of my reviews. The D-Major Quartet is an excellent example. At 34-and-a-half minutes, it’s only two minutes shorter than its E?-Major companion, but one must take into account that the earlier work is in only three movements, compared to the more standard four-movement layout of its sibling. To be sure, the piece has some charming Czech-inflected melodies and lovely moments, but in between is much that would have ended up on the cutting room floor if Brahms had been the editor. The most memorable movement is the Andantino con variazioni, in which Dvo?ák spins a number of very imaginative variations over a plaintive, dumka-like theme.
The E?-Major Quartet is a much more tightly constructed work, and its movements are more proportionally balanced. Dvo?ák’s writing is also bolder, more assured, and more technically demanding, especially of the pianist. By this time, the composer had learned there was more to the art of thematic development than simply padding a piece with filler. The Lento, in the hideous key for the strings of G? Major (six flats), is clearly indebted to Brahms for its melodic outlines, harmonic vocabulary, and keyboard figuration. This is not your Dvo?ák of the dumka-colored slow movement. The Allegro moderato, grazioso is also not Dvo?ák’s typical high-spirited scherzo. It’s more of a waltz, and anyone really familiar with the composer’s work will instantly recognize the opening strain (after the introductory chords) as being almost identical to the fourth item in the set of Romantic Pieces, op. 75. Only with the last movement do we finally get the ruddy-cheeked Czech peasant dance that is so characteristic of Dvo?ák’s music.
These are excellent performances from members of the Vlach Quartet joined by pianist Helena Suchárová-Weiser, thoroughly idiomatic, as one might expect from this venerable Czech ensemble, and an excellent recording made at the Lobkowitz Palace, Prague, in 2008. Surprisingly, there isn’t as much competition as one might expect, at least not that couples both piano quartets on the same disc. Two that have long occupied favored status in my collection—one with the disbanded Domus on Hyperion, and the other with the Ames Piano Quartet on Dorian—are both still listed. But they are also both full-priced albums, and I wouldn’t argue that either holds a significant edge over this budget-priced Naxos disc. If you don’t already have one or more versions of Dvo?ák’s two piano quartets on your shelf, this is a sure bet for when you’re in one of your own Dvo?ák-loving phases.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
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These captivating performances are a salutary reminder that, while Dvo?ák's chamber music is readily accessible to musicians and listeners alike, it uniquely blossoms when performed by native Czech performers - and, as we shall see, by their well-trained fellow-travelers - who bring it an intuitive sense of expressive phrasing and an understanding of its various components.
The D major quartet's opening theme, the first thing we hear, underscores the point. It includes a hiccough of a syncopation: hit it too hard, and it impedes the motion; underplay it, and it's just a distraction. These players articulate it within the overall arch of the phrase, so the rhythmic gesture intensifies the forward impulse as it should.
Such felicities abound in these performances. The players launch all the cantabile phrases with a sure sense of their broad, arching shape. The waltzlike passages - the 6/8 variations of the D major's central movement, the Allegretto scherzando of its Finale, and the third movement of the E-flat - go with a lovely lilt and swing, and carry an authentic, open-hearted lyricism.
The D major quartet is formally rather interesting. It begins with a fully-fledged Allegro moderato sonata movement, fifteen minutes long. There follows a lovely eleven-minute Andantino with five variations. The seven-minute Finale begins with the brief Allegretto scherzando cited before heading into an Allegro agitato, thus encompassing elements of both a scherzo and a conventional finale. The structure looks as off-balance in the track-listing as it undoubtedly sounds in this description, but in fact the two latter movements constitute a plausible counterweight to the first. The four-movement E-flat quartet shows Beethoven's influence. The themes are no less fetching than in the earlier work, but they lend themselves more readily to "symphonic" working-out and development, and the whole leaves an impression of greater weight and importance.
Of the players, I was particularly taken by cellist Mikael Ericcson - who, I imagine, is probably not a native Czech - whose dusky, deep tone provides special pleasure on the numerous melodic phrases the composer supplies. At the piano, Helena Suchárová-Weiser spins out pearly, articulate passagework with full tonal weight and "support", and her well-balanced chords ring out. Violinist Jana Vlachová never quite soars as one wants; her tone is thinner and her articulation less meticulous than ideal. But she's a stylish and effective player, and violist, Karel Stadtherr, produces a tone sufficiently darker than hers to render their sounds easily distinguishable.
The engineers capture just enough hall resonance to enhance the beautiful playing, but not so much as to obscure it. One would have expected to find this sort of release on an expensive, imported Supraphon disc, where it still would have been a must-buy; at Naxos prices, it's absolutely a steal.
-- Stephen Francis Vasta, MusicWeb International
Kodály: Te Deum - Bartók: Cantata Profana / Foster, Transylvania State Philharmonic
PENTATONE
SACD
$21.99
Nov 03, 2023
The Transylvania State Philharmonic Choir & Orchestra and conductor Lawrence Foster present choral-orchestral works by Béla Bartók and Zoltán Kodály. They join forces with a remarkable group of soloists – including Luiza Fatyol, Roxana Constantinescu, Marius Vlad, Ioan Hotea and Bogdan Baciu – as well as the Junior VIP children’s choir. The album opens with Kodály’s Budavári Te Deum and Psalmus Hungaricus, followed by Bartók’s Transylvanian Dances and culminating in the composer’s Cantata Profana. The latter work, based on ancient myth, was originally conceived in Romanian, but the piece is usually performed in a Hungarian version. This recording reinstates the Romanian original version, retouched by choir conductor Cornel Groza.
In general, this recording by Romanian ensembles of works by Hungarian composers linked to Romanian sources can be seen as an exploration of Romania and Hungary’s shared roots, and of the bicultural nature of Transylvania in particular. Lawrence Foster has a vast Pentatone discography, including several orchestral and complete opera recordings. The Transylvania State Philharmonic Choir & Orchestra so far featured on two Pentatone recordings under the baton of Foster: Puccini’s La Fanciulla del West (2021) and Melody Moore’s solo recital Remembering Tebaldi (2023). Roxana Constantinescu featured on Pentatone recordings of Mascagni’s Cavalleria rusticana and Puccini’s Il tabarro (both 2020), while Marius Vlad appeared on the above-mentioned La Fanciulla del West recording.
REVIEWS:
One can readily detect a national style in this collection of choral works recently issued by Pentatone, each distinctive and individual if, in the case of Kodály, of uneven inspiration. Of Psalmus Hungaricus Bartók commented that it ‘could not have been written without Hungarian peasant music’.
[Kodály’s Psalmus] is acclaimed as one of the truly great choral works of the 20th century, and while there’s no shortage of recordings, actual performances today are relatively rare. The Guardian’s Alfred Hickling once observed, ‘Kodály remains a minority taste in this country, lightly dismissed as a kind of low-fat alternative to Bartók’. A little unfair perhaps considering the emotional punch and drama of Psalmus Hungaricus in which the soloist assumes the role of the betrayed King David, with a supplicant chorus echoing his anguish and indignation.
According to the Kodály authority David Vinden, the Psalmus is a work ‘that sings itself’. Here, the Transylvania State Philharmonic Orchestra and Transylvania State Philharmonic Choir do the work proud. Under the direction of Lawrence Foster (American-born with Rumanian ancestry), the chorus respond fervently to the raging of the persecuted, bitterness giving way to the affirmation of God’s divine retribution. King David’s grievances are articulated mainly by the tenor Marius Vlad, but here his impassioned utterances sound a little too clenched for comfort, and only in the latter stages of the work does a more yielding tone emerge. While this performance may not achieve the gravitas or emotional intensity of Kodály’s own recording (Hungaroton, 1957), Lawrence Foster’s ear for balance is sure and his tempi well-judged.
Like the Te Deum, Bartók’s Cantata Profana (1930) is another rarity in the concert hall, although moderately well represented on disc. Based on traditional Transylvanian ballads (and sung here in Romanian), it narrates the tale of a hunter’s nine sons who are magically transformed into stags before their integration into the natural world. The work remains an under-appreciated part of his oeuvre...Bogdan Baciu and Ioan Hotea, as father and son respectively, are impassioned in their solo contributions, manfully facing their extreme pitches. The chorus are assured and bring considerable energy to their role.
Taking the disc to just over the hour are Bartók’s Transylvanian Dances, orchestral versions of his Sonatina for Piano from 1915 and given characterful performances. Overall, these accounts are a worthwhile introduction to the composers’ choral works and make attractive couplings that enjoy full texts and translations with excellent sound.
-- Opera Today
Music by two Hungarian composers, and folk-music-collecting friends, performed in Romania conducted by Los Angeles-born (to Romanian parents) Lawrence Foster, makes for an excellent collection, very well recorded at Radio Cluj in May 2022. Kodály’s Budavári Te Deum is lively and exhilarating, with lyrical correspondences to Walton’s Coronation Te Deum, music that speaks directly without artifice, whereas Psalmus Hungaricus is musically of greater intensity and gravitas, performed here with emotional power to compelling effect. Bartók’s orchestral Transylvanian Dances make a flavoursome prelude to his Cantata Profana, recounting a strange tale involving stags, in an atmospheric, dramatic and suspenseful performance. In addition to the choir and orchestra there are, when required, a children’s chorus and five vocal soloists, each of the latter committed to words and music.
-- Colin's Column
Herold: La Fille Mal Gardée / Royal Ballet
Opus Arte
DVD
$24.99
Jul 29, 2008
Also available on Blu-ray
Ferdinand Hérold
LA FILLE MAL GARDÉE
Colas – Carlos Acosta
Lise – Marianela Nuñez
Simone – William Tuckett
Alain – Jonathan Howells
The Royal Ballet
The Orchestra of the Royal Opera House
Anthony Twiner, conductor
Frederick Ashton, choreographer
Osbert Lancaster, set design
Recorded live at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, London, 2 February 2005.
Bonus: Cast gallery and illustrated synopsis
Picture format: NTSC 16:9 anamorphic
Sound format: LPCM Stereo / 5.1 Surround sound
Region code: 0 (All regions)
Menu language: English
Running time: 112 mins
R E V I E W:
A delightful production … considerable charm and appeal.
Choreographer Sir Frederick Ashton was born in September 1904, so it was always likely that the Royal Ballet – of which he was Director for most of the 1960s – would take the opportunity to celebrate his centenary with revivals of some of his best works.
My colleague Ian Lace has already given a very warm welcome to Opus Arte’s DVD of the 2005 revival of Ashton’s 1952 production of Delibes’s Sylvia (see review). Now this new release, from the same television/DVD producers, is likely to offer just as much – if not more – pleasure to admirers of both the choreographer and several of the Royal Ballet’s most accomplished artistes.
The origins of the score are somewhat obscure. The earliest music – dating from 1789 - was cobbled together by an unknown hand from a variety of popular melodies. But by 1828 it was considered sufficiently dated for Ferdinand Hérold to be commissioned to rearrange and supplement it, using not just his own material but also unauthorized extracts from pieces by Donizetti, Rossini and others.
Hérold’s score held the field for less than 40 years, though, before it in turn was considered so old-fashioned that it was superseded by one penned by Peter Ludwig Hertel. Thus, from the 1860s onwards, it was Hertel’s music – at various times added to substantially by Drigo, Pugni, Minkus and Delibes, not to mention Anton Rubinstein and a certain Johann Armsheimer – that was associated with the La fille mal gardée story.
Had Ashton had a grander conception for his planned 1960 Covent Garden production, he might well have used the by now traditional Hertel score. But instead he envisaged a simple, pastoral, light-hearted and pastel-shaded interpretation of the old story – Watteau rather than Winterhalter. Thus, having retrieved Hérold’s long-neglected music from the archives, he asked John Lanchbery to edit and re-orchestrate it. [Ironically enough, a single bit of Hertel did eventually find its way into the new version and, as the theme of the famous clog dance, can be heard in one of the ballet’s best loved episodes!]
La fille mal gardée – yet another story of young lovers thwarting an ambitious parent’s plan to marry off one of them to a far wealthier suitor - is now considered the quintessential Ashton ballet and is certainly the best loved. The choreography’s apparent - but not actual! - simplicity and its sheer joie de vivre work in perfect harmony with the undemanding light-hearted story and the tuneful 1828 score to ensure that audiences invariably leave the theatre with faces wreathed in smiles. That would certainly have been so as patrons left the Royal Opera House on 2 February 2005 – and thankfully the BBC’s cameras were there to record the occasion.
While not having any great emotional depths to plumb in their roles, attractive and charismatic soloists Marianela Nuñez and Carlos Acosta are utterly convincing as youthful lovers. She is an exceptionally pretty girl, whereas he is the epitome of a virile and handsome young swain. Moreover, unlike many ballet productions, this is one case where the protagonists look genuinely and appropriately young. In fact, Nuñez was, at the time, just 23 and the Royal Ballet’s youngest Principal – though mere youth was clearly no handicap as she received, that same year, the Best Female Dancer accolade in the Critics’ Circle National Dance Awards. Acosta, though actually nine years older, makes an ideal visual match – as his many admirers will certainly testify.
The pair are also very well matched as dancers and offer well-nigh perfect interpretations and performances. Ashton’s choreography may not offer too much in the way of flashy opportunities to bring down the house, but it is sufficiently taxing to require the dancers to demonstrate complete concentration and immaculate technique. Both are in clear evidence here.
As Widow Simone, the domineering mother determined to engineer an advantageous – if loveless – marriage for her daughter, William Tuckett plays the role for laughs. In full pantomime dame mode and equipped with a range of wonderfully exaggerated facial expressions, he certainly succeeds. He can, though, dance too – although I would have liked to have heard the clack-clack of his clogs more clearly over the orchestra, so as to emphasize his skillful footwork in the famous highlight solo.
Jonathan Howells’s interpretation of Alain, Widow Simone’s preferred rich-but-dim suitor for her daughter, is again strong on comedy but he also conveys an air of pathos that adds considerably to the role and was clearly appreciated by the Covent Garden audience.
The production keeps the corps de ballet especially busy portraying various types of cheerful, good natured country folk. These are remarkably sophisticated rustics, however – at least when it comes to their ability to interpret Ashton’s intricate, fluid patterns on stage. The maypole dance preceding the storm that brings the first act to a close - itself a striking coup de théâtre - offers an excellent example of the company’s strength in full ensemble, as does the exuberant finale to the whole ballet.
Meanwhile, conductor Anthony Twiner directs an appropriately jaunty and light-hearted account of the score and the Covent Garden orchestra responds with aplomb throughout.
The set is from designs by Osbert Lancaster who was, at that time well-known as a professional cartoonist for the Daily Express. Its simple, cartoon-like qualities and the exaggeratedly clichéd French peasant costumes also fit the mood of this delightful production perfectly and add measurably to its already considerable charm and appeal.
-- Rob Maynard, MusicWeb International
Ferdinand Hérold
LA FILLE MAL GARDÉE
Colas – Carlos Acosta
Lise – Marianela Nuñez
Simone – William Tuckett
Alain – Jonathan Howells
The Royal Ballet
The Orchestra of the Royal Opera House
Anthony Twiner, conductor
Frederick Ashton, choreographer
Osbert Lancaster, set design
Recorded live at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, London, 2 February 2005.
Bonus: Cast gallery and illustrated synopsis
Picture format: NTSC 16:9 anamorphic
Sound format: LPCM Stereo / 5.1 Surround sound
Region code: 0 (All regions)
Menu language: English
Running time: 112 mins
R E V I E W:
A delightful production … considerable charm and appeal.
Choreographer Sir Frederick Ashton was born in September 1904, so it was always likely that the Royal Ballet – of which he was Director for most of the 1960s – would take the opportunity to celebrate his centenary with revivals of some of his best works.
My colleague Ian Lace has already given a very warm welcome to Opus Arte’s DVD of the 2005 revival of Ashton’s 1952 production of Delibes’s Sylvia (see review). Now this new release, from the same television/DVD producers, is likely to offer just as much – if not more – pleasure to admirers of both the choreographer and several of the Royal Ballet’s most accomplished artistes.
The origins of the score are somewhat obscure. The earliest music – dating from 1789 - was cobbled together by an unknown hand from a variety of popular melodies. But by 1828 it was considered sufficiently dated for Ferdinand Hérold to be commissioned to rearrange and supplement it, using not just his own material but also unauthorized extracts from pieces by Donizetti, Rossini and others.
Hérold’s score held the field for less than 40 years, though, before it in turn was considered so old-fashioned that it was superseded by one penned by Peter Ludwig Hertel. Thus, from the 1860s onwards, it was Hertel’s music – at various times added to substantially by Drigo, Pugni, Minkus and Delibes, not to mention Anton Rubinstein and a certain Johann Armsheimer – that was associated with the La fille mal gardée story.
Had Ashton had a grander conception for his planned 1960 Covent Garden production, he might well have used the by now traditional Hertel score. But instead he envisaged a simple, pastoral, light-hearted and pastel-shaded interpretation of the old story – Watteau rather than Winterhalter. Thus, having retrieved Hérold’s long-neglected music from the archives, he asked John Lanchbery to edit and re-orchestrate it. [Ironically enough, a single bit of Hertel did eventually find its way into the new version and, as the theme of the famous clog dance, can be heard in one of the ballet’s best loved episodes!]
La fille mal gardée – yet another story of young lovers thwarting an ambitious parent’s plan to marry off one of them to a far wealthier suitor - is now considered the quintessential Ashton ballet and is certainly the best loved. The choreography’s apparent - but not actual! - simplicity and its sheer joie de vivre work in perfect harmony with the undemanding light-hearted story and the tuneful 1828 score to ensure that audiences invariably leave the theatre with faces wreathed in smiles. That would certainly have been so as patrons left the Royal Opera House on 2 February 2005 – and thankfully the BBC’s cameras were there to record the occasion.
While not having any great emotional depths to plumb in their roles, attractive and charismatic soloists Marianela Nuñez and Carlos Acosta are utterly convincing as youthful lovers. She is an exceptionally pretty girl, whereas he is the epitome of a virile and handsome young swain. Moreover, unlike many ballet productions, this is one case where the protagonists look genuinely and appropriately young. In fact, Nuñez was, at the time, just 23 and the Royal Ballet’s youngest Principal – though mere youth was clearly no handicap as she received, that same year, the Best Female Dancer accolade in the Critics’ Circle National Dance Awards. Acosta, though actually nine years older, makes an ideal visual match – as his many admirers will certainly testify.
The pair are also very well matched as dancers and offer well-nigh perfect interpretations and performances. Ashton’s choreography may not offer too much in the way of flashy opportunities to bring down the house, but it is sufficiently taxing to require the dancers to demonstrate complete concentration and immaculate technique. Both are in clear evidence here.
As Widow Simone, the domineering mother determined to engineer an advantageous – if loveless – marriage for her daughter, William Tuckett plays the role for laughs. In full pantomime dame mode and equipped with a range of wonderfully exaggerated facial expressions, he certainly succeeds. He can, though, dance too – although I would have liked to have heard the clack-clack of his clogs more clearly over the orchestra, so as to emphasize his skillful footwork in the famous highlight solo.
Jonathan Howells’s interpretation of Alain, Widow Simone’s preferred rich-but-dim suitor for her daughter, is again strong on comedy but he also conveys an air of pathos that adds considerably to the role and was clearly appreciated by the Covent Garden audience.
The production keeps the corps de ballet especially busy portraying various types of cheerful, good natured country folk. These are remarkably sophisticated rustics, however – at least when it comes to their ability to interpret Ashton’s intricate, fluid patterns on stage. The maypole dance preceding the storm that brings the first act to a close - itself a striking coup de théâtre - offers an excellent example of the company’s strength in full ensemble, as does the exuberant finale to the whole ballet.
Meanwhile, conductor Anthony Twiner directs an appropriately jaunty and light-hearted account of the score and the Covent Garden orchestra responds with aplomb throughout.
The set is from designs by Osbert Lancaster who was, at that time well-known as a professional cartoonist for the Daily Express. Its simple, cartoon-like qualities and the exaggeratedly clichéd French peasant costumes also fit the mood of this delightful production perfectly and add measurably to its already considerable charm and appeal.
-- Rob Maynard, MusicWeb International
