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Heritage of the March 3-4: Jewell, Blankenburg, Chambers, Hughes / US Navy Band
Breiner: Slovak Dances, Naughty and Sad / Slovak Philharmonic
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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
Schubert: V1: Piano Trios / Gould Piano Trio
| In their second album for Resonus, the Gould Piano Trio returns with a recording of Schubert’s Piano Trios. Apart from a very early single movement written when he fifteen years of age, Schubert came to the piano trio late in his short career and left only two full-length works in the form, written in 1827–8. By the time Schubert came to write his piano trios, the form had taken on a new stature thanks to work from composers such as Beethoven. Here, Schubert’s Trios in B-flat major and the ‘Notturno’ in E-flat major are joined by the delightful Valses nobles D969, composed for solo piano and heard here in a world premiere recording in this arrangement for trio by Julius Zellner. |
Tchaikovsky: 1812 Overture, Capriccio Italien, Romeo & Julie
Rutter: Anthems, Hymns and Gloria for Brass Band
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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
My First Christmas Album
Can you imagine Christmas without music? No singing, no jingling. Only Scrooge would be happy with that! It is a time for music to fill the air. Part of the fun is hearing things that are only played at Christmas and at no other time of year - carols that make you think of the end of term, or the holidays or bobble hats - songs that make you think of food, or snow, or stockings. Here are some of the most popular carols, as well as some other surprises...Merry Christmas!
REVIEWS:
I have always been a great believer in the importance of presenting music of the highest possible quality regardless of the potential audience. This is done here — for the adult listener there is real interest and fascination in hearing such a wide range of choral styles.
I loved the predictably fine Lutoslawski/ Antoni Wit Polish National RSO & Choir Hurrying to Bethlehem. Again quite a different choral tone. Otto Kotilainen’s Finnish Kun Joulu on is something of a discovery beautifully performed—a lighter tone than the Polish choir but very expressive by the Finnish choir Chorus Resonus. Another virtuoso vocal group prove to be La Petite Bande de Montreal who contribute a brief but virtuosic Carol of the Bells. Jeremy Summerly’s Oxford Camerata are suitably vigorous in the Medieval Gaudete Christus est natus. As indeed is For Unto us from the Messiah from Edward Higginbottom, the Academy of Ancient Music and Oxford New College Choir. This is a delightfully sprung and sprightly version of an old favourite. Most of the carols are sung with little or no accompaniment other than the expected organ or keyboard. This makes the full orchestral version of Vaughan Williams’ Wassail Song particularly enjoyable.
So all in all a disc of palpable hits in terms of music and performance, and certainly something for the stocking of a young relative. No texts or translations are included. Well done to Naxos for producing a disc of great entertainment value but without compromising the artistic merit of it either.
-- MusicWeb International
If you’re looking for a Christmas album that the kids will like but won’t drive you up the wall, try this. It’s one of a series of Naxos CDs that try and introduce children to classical music...
Most of your favorite Christmas carols are on here, along with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and the Sugar Plum Fairy. For a Christmas album, it gets high praise: it’s not annoying, and only Scrooge could really find fault. It also introduces the small ones to classical playing.
-- The Chronicle
R. Strauss & Copland / Stamp, Academy of London, Royal Northern Sinfonia
The four works on this release, all composed in the 1940s, embrace the lingering end of one musical tradition and the vigorous upsurge of another. Mellifluous, retrospective and playful, the Duet Concertino and Prelude to Capriccio were works from Richard Strauss’s final phase – an old man’s refuge from the barbarism of war and its aftermath. What the public thought of them was incidental, even irrelevant. In the same decade, Aaron Copland and other younger American composers were reaching out, via radio, recordings and film, to a new mass audience. The European influence of Appalachian Spring and the Clarinet Concerto, though inescapable, was minimized in a populist, vernacular idiom that absorbed folk music and jazz.
Richard Stamp unites some of the finest instrumentalists from the UK and Europe in these performances – featuring celebrated orchestras the Academy of London and the Royal Northern Sinfonia with renowned Austrian soloists Ernst Ottensamer and Stepan Turnovsky. Stepan Turnovsky joined the Vienna State Opera and Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra in 1978 and has kept the position of Solo Bassoonist there since 1985, performing with conductors such as Herbert von Karajan, Leonard Bernstein, Karl Böhm, Carlos Kleiber amongst many others. The late Ernst Ottensamer was a former principal clarinettist at the Vienna Philharmonic and an avid performer of chamber music – founding numerous ensembles and collaborating with musicians such as Sir Simon Rattle, André Previn, Daniel Barenboim and Rudolf Buchbinder amongst others. In 2005 he found a clarinet trio with his sons Daniel and Andreas Ottensamer – themselves the Principal Clarinettists of the Vienna Philharmonic and Berlin Philharmonic Orchestras. This present performance represents his last concerto recording.
REVIEW:
It is for the two Strauss performances that I can offer an enthusiastic thumbs up. Ernest Ottensamer died suddenly in 2017 at the age of 61, and the Copland was his last concerto recording. That, too, adds to the value of this release. Signum deserves gratitude for saving all four performances from being lost and forgotten.
– Fanfare
Brusa: Orchestral Works, Vol. 1
Harold Samuel - The complete solo recordings
| Harold Samuel (1879–1937) was the first pianist to specialize in the performance of Bach’s original keyboard works in the concert hall and achieved worldwide acclaim in doing so. His pioneering HMV and Columbia recordings of the composer (all the Bach works included here, except for the first Prelude & Fugue from the Well-Tempered Clavier, were premiers on disc) sound as fresh and inspiring today as they did when new and reveal that great Bach playing is timeless. A unique live 5th Brandenburg Concerto from New York and a studio E major Violin Sonata with Isolde Menges round out his Bach and this landmark release also includes his remaining solo discs, notably some rare repertoire by Clementi and two of Bach’s sons which was recorded for the ambitious Columbia History of Music educational project. These new 2021 transfers by Seth Winner were made using the latest technology and present these historic documents in the best possible sound, revealing more detail of Samuel’s playing than has ever previously been captured. |
Geza Anda Plays Beethoven
Guitar Vibes: Music For Guitar And Strings / Elias, Netherlands Chamber Ensemble, Matangi Quartet
Izhar Elias has produced several successful and imaginative albums for Brilliant Classics. None of them have confirmed to a ‘Spanish guitar’ stereotype but all have engaged in various original ways with the developing heritage of the instrument during the 19th century, from ‘Paisiello in Vienna’ (BC95301) to ‘Beethoven and the Guitar’ (BC94631) to Giuliani’s astonishing transcription of Rossini’s grand tragedy Semiramide (BC93902). His latest recording brings the classical guitar up to date with works by composers from four different countries; within them may be heard influences from classical music, avant-garde, Caribbean music, Spanish folklore, flamenco, Arabic music, blues, Argentinean tango and even trip-hop and heavy metal: provocative testament to the world’s most versatile instrument. The Guernica Suite by Pujol (b.1959) focuses on different aspects of Picasso’s painting in six movements, with a tentatively positive conclusion. The Triptych of Roberto Sierra (b.1953) evokes some nocturnal sounds from his native Puerto Rico, including the tropical tree frog as well as a night on the tiles. The three Danzas Concertantes pulse and glide with the rhythms of Leo Brouwer’s native Cuba, offset by some astringent harmonies that place the guitar’s usual role as purveyor of folkloristic colour under threat. Finally there is the Schattenspiel Suite by Florian Magnus Maier (b.1973), who also plays electric Moog guitar on this recording. Maier pursues a diverse career as a composer, guitarist and vocalist with bands including Alkaloid, Dark Fortress and Noneuclid; this tripartite suite inspired by shadows is his best-known work in the classical tradition, and for this recording he has made a new arrangement for two guitars and string quartet. There is something for everyone on this album: it’s essential listening for guitar-music enthusiasts who want to broaden their horizons.
Schumann: Quartet, Op. 47 - Faure: Quartet, Op. 15 (1953)
Homage to Schubert
Franck, C.: Psyche / Sibelius, J.: Symphony No. 2
Bach: Herz Und Mund Und Tat Und Leben; Magnificat / Albrecht, Munich Bach Choir
BACH Cantata No. 147. Sinfonia in D, BWV 1045. Magnificat in D • Hansjörg Albrecht, cond; Andrea Lauren Brown, Lydia Teuscher (sop); Olivia Vermeulen (alt); Julian Prégardien (ten); Sebastian Noack (bar); Rebekka Hartmann (vn); Munich Bach Ch & O • OEHMS 1801 (58:57)
This disc celebrates the 60th anniversary of the founding of the Munich Bach Choir and the Munich Bach Orchestra by the legendary Karl Richter. “Legendary” is a term perhaps too readily bandied about, but in Richter’s case, I think, it’s apt. Richter was the bridge between the monumental pre-World-War-II Bach interpretations and the fleet, light HIP (“historically informed practiced”) style in favor today. Before coming to Munich in 1951 Richter sang in Dresden’s Kreuzchor and served as organist at Leipzig’s St. Thomas Church. In Munich he led the Heinrich Schütz Circle, renaming it the Munich Bach Choir in 1954 and launching a new era, both for Munich and for Bach. His many performances and recordings with the MBC and its companion orchestra made him one of the most influential Bach interpreters of 1950s, 60s, and 70s. His chorus was large by today’s standards, though a far cry from the 200-plus voices sometimes previously assembled for major Bach festivals. His tempos, too, were much more leisurely that those we have come to favor, but he purged the music of the bloat that had been all too common, and he imbued his interpretations with a new intensity. He was never tempted to replace his excellent orchestra with period-instrument specialists. It would be hard to over-estimate the influence of Richter’s Archiv recordings on the evolving scene. But he was swept away by the tsunami of the historically informed tide. He died of a heart attack in 1981, reportedly embittered by his marginalization.
Despite some collective self-doubt, the MBC survived its founder and found new life under the direction of Hanns-Martin Schneidt. Hansjörg Albrecht assumed leadership of the choir in 2005, and like Schneidt has sought to expand the choir’s repertory without diluting its main focus on the music of J. S. Bach.
The new recording finds the choir still in excellent shape—and still large. The roster lists 28 sopranos, 22 altos (all apparently female), just nine tenors, and 17 basses. Whether all sing in these performances is a matter for speculation. The orchestra is much more modest, with a 3-3-2-2-1 string cohort and the necessary winds and continuo. The performances are brisk—every movement in both works is shorter than its counterpart in Richter’s versions. Some skirt the edge of plausibility, but the choir always holds. The soloists are very good or better. It’s a fitting tribute to the founder.
The orchestral sinfonia (still played on modern instruments) that separates the two popular choral works was apparently intended for a cantata now otherwise lost. It’s good to have.
FANFARE: George Chien
Gísladóttir: Caeli / Bára Gísladóttir, Skúli Sverrisson
Caeli is spun out of the idea of skies and dimensions merging into a boarderless being boasting of a rich and vivid texture, at times carrying numerous worlds inside at once. During the recording of Caeli, Bára and Skúli would have long discussions about how the world is opening up and how this would and could affect music as well. They like to look at Caeli as a product of this openness - a crystallisation of freedom, exposure and transparency in sound. Bára Gísladóttir (born 1989) is an Icelandic composer and double bassist based in Copenhagen. She studied composition at the Iceland Academy of the Arts in Reykjavík, Conservatorio di Musica "Giuseppe Verdi" in Milan and at the Royal Danish Academy of Music in Copenhagen. Bára´s pieces have been selected for festivals such as Dark Music Days, Darmstädter Ferienkurse, International Rostrum of Composers, KLANG Festival, Nordic Music Days and Ung Nordisk Musik. She has received the Carl Nielsen and Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen Foundation’s Talent Awards, Léonie Sonning Talent Prize, The Reykjavík Grapevine's Music Awards, and has been nominated to the Carl Prize as 'Composer of the year', the Kraumur Music Awards three times for 'Album of the year' and The Icelandic Music Awards twice for 'Piece of the year'. Bára is an active performer and regularly plays her own music, mostly solo or with her long time collaborator, Skúli Sverrisson. In addition to this, she is the double bassist of Elja Ensemble. She has also performed with Ensemble Adapter, the Iceland Symphony Orchestra and S.L.Á.T.U.R.. Skúli Sverrisson (born 23 October 1966) is an Icelandic composer and bass guitarist. He has worked with musicians Wadada Leo Smith, Derek Bailey, Lou Reed, Jon Hassel, David Sylvian, Arto Lindsay, and composers Ryuichi Sakamoto, Jóhann Jóhannsson, and Hildur Guðnadóttir.
REVIEW:
While each of the 19 ‘movements’ seem sufficiently distinct from each other their individual arcs seem to follow a course of gradual bending and fragmentation. By that I mean that if each of the movements seems to begin and end in the same place, the excursion one experiences en route is abundant in microscopic timbral variety and largely imperceptible flux.
There can be little doubt that Bára Gísladóttir and Skúli Sverrisson are outstanding musicians in every sense; if their virtuosity as players per se takes ones breath away that’s not even the half of it. What is effectively a 130 minute dual improvisation involving a double bass and an electric bass is, in the end, an experience of profundity, wonder, and indescribable beauty. Caeli is all-encompassing and astonishing in a literal sense; at once it can be monolithic and elastic, dark and luminous, purposeful and daydreaming, bold and terrified, triumphant and sad. It’s all on these discs.
– MusicWeb International
Beethoven: Symphonies Nos. 4 & 7 / Mcgegan, Philharmonia Baroque
BEETHOVEN Symphonies Nos. 4 1 and 7 2 • Nicholas McGegan, cond; Philharmonia Baroque O (period instruments) • PHILHARMONIA BAROQUE PRODUCTIONS 06 (75:10) Live: Berkeley 1 11/10-11/2012, 2 9/12-13/2009
Unlike a number of other conductors in the early music movement, Nicholas McGegan has waited a long time to commit any of the Beethoven symphonies to disc. The wait has been well worthwhile. These are now my favorite period performance versions of the Fourth and Seventh symphonies on CD. I previously had preferred the Fourth of John Eliot Gardiner. It is faster than McGegan’s in every movement, sometimes significantly so. I feel that McGegan’s tempos allow the music to breathe more and to build up more natural climaxes. Gardiner uses a larger string section, which produces a wider dynamic range than McGegan’s. But McGegan’s orchestra sounds better balanced to me, with the strings allowing for richer textures from the inner voices. Interestingly, both conductors employ the same principal flute, the excellent Janet See, whose album of Vivaldi concertos with McGegan and the PBO is well worth seeking out. In the opening movement of the Fourth, McGegan’s Adagio is like a journey through the Greek underworld, leading to an Allegro vivace that feels like the whole world springing to life. Its development section sounds very Viennese in its congeniality. The second movement resembles chamber music, similar to a Buddhist scroll painting in its play of light and shade. It is significant that McGegan’s violin section includes such period chamber music luminaries as Katherine Kyme, Elizabeth Blumenstock, and Jolianne von Einem. The third movement displays Olympian humor, while the last is very danceable, sort of Beethoven’s version of a hoedown. In both symphonies, McGegan is very generous with repeats.
One of the principal attractions of McGegan’s Seventh is timpanist Kent Reed. Over 20 years ago, I heard a splendid Seventh by the New Jersey Symphony conducted by my friend Jens Nygaard, in which the timpanist, Randall Hicks, really whaled away. The critic assigned to the concert complained that it sounded like a timpani concerto. By now, we are so accustomed to the thwack of period timpani that Reed’s performance doesn’t seem unusual. Before hearing McGegan, my favorite period Seventh was Roger Norrington’s Stuttgart account. He is more fastidious in the middle movements about Beethoven’s metronome markings, though McGegan’s tempos there feel less rushed. Norrington’s strings, modern instruments played without vibrato, make a thicker, less appealing sound than McGegan’s more gossamer section. What’s more, McGegan conducts the entire symphony with a Beechamesque twinkle in his eye that Norrington lacks. The introduction to McGegan’s first movement is fleet-footed, with beautiful wind playing. The main section features wonderful waves of sound that ebb and flow, while the coda offers splendidly braying horns. McGegan’s slow movement is measured, with a careful delineation of dynamics. Its sensation is that of a haunted, misty reverie. The third movement feels as if the different sections of the orchestra are engaged in a conversation. Its trio sounds like an ecstatic shepherd’s song. The concluding movement is a jolly, mercurial romp. McGegan’s Seventh, congenial as it is, is one you can live with very easily.
The sound engineering in both symphonies is excellent. If you are looking for these works on modern instruments, I would recommend George Szell in Cleveland for the Fourth and Karl Böhm with the Vienna Philharmonic for the Seventh, although his Berlin account is nearly as good. McGegan’s album is a marvelous blend of the wisdom of the old master conductors with the finesse of period instruments. His Beethoven is an extremely likable fellow of vast ingenuity, an artist with whose work you never are sated. There is not one unconsidered bar of music in the whole album.
FANFARE: Dave Saemann
D'Albert: Symphony in F / Markl, MDR SO
D’ALBERT Tiefland: Symphonic Prologue. Symphony in F, Op. 4 • Jun Märkl, cond; MDR Leipzig RSO • NAXOS 8.572805 (62:40)
A recording of Eugen d’Albert’s early Symphony in F Major appeared on CPO three years ago and was reviewed by James A. Altena in 33:6. That version was conducted by Herman Bäumer leading the Osnabrücker Symphony Orchestra. D’Albert’s life story is reasonably well known, so it needn’t be recapped at length. In short, he was born in Glasgow, studied in London, and at 17 won a scholarship to study in Austria. There he was so taken with Austro-German music and culture that he repudiated his English training as worthless and from that day forward considered himself a right and proper German. He studied with Liszt, met Brahms, and built a career as one of the foremost piano virtuosos of his day. Between 1904 and 1905, d’Albert toured the U.S., and in 1907 succeeded Joseph Joachim as director of Berlin’s Hochschulefür Musik. D’Albert counted among his circle of associates and friends, Richard Strauss, who dedicated his Burleske to him, Hans Pfitzner, Engelbert Humperdinck, and Ignatz Waghalter (see the interview with Irmina Trynkos in 36:3). D’Albert’s personal life was a bit of a mess. Like Henry VIII, he married and divorced six times, though as far as we know, all of d’Albert’s wives kept their heads. When connubial contentment eluded him, he comforted himself in the arms of a mistress. His love of Germany and all things German must have soured when the First World War broke out, for in 1914, he moved to Zurich and became a Swiss citizen. He died, however, in Riga, Latvia, where he’d traveled to secure a divorce from his sixth wife.
Little by little d’Albert’s interest in composing began to overtake his career as a pianist. His output is not insignificant. It includes 21 operas, of which the seventh, Tiefland , first staged in 1903, was a major success, playing in houses around the world. It still holds the boards today, though mainly in Austria and Germany. Other works include a Cello Concerto, two piano concertos (available on Volume 9 of Hyperion’s “Romantic Piano Concerto” series), a couple of string quartets, an overture to Grillparzer’s Esther , a Piano Sonata, a handful of solo piano pieces, and lots and lots of songs.
Note: d’Albert composed the overture to Gilbert and Sullivan’s Patience in 1881, just prior to his departure for Austria. Except for the cello concerto, the two piano concertos, the symphony on this disc, and his opera, Tiefland , plus several recordings of excerpts therefrom, not a lot else by d’Albert has found its way onto disc.
Another note: if you’re searching ArkivMusic for d’Albert, you’ll find him listed under the letter “A,” as Albert, Eugène d’—odd, since the site lists D’Indy as D’Indy, Vincent. Maybe it has something to do with the lowercase “d” vs. the uppercase “D.” Amazon and the Fanfare Archive put d’Albert under “D,” but the Archive purges the apostrophe, giving his name as dAlbert. How many ways can you spell “dog?” How about “dawg?”
I concur in the opinion of others that d’Albert’s compositional strength lies mainly in his mastery of the craft; his thematic ideas lend themselves well to development and he knows his way around the orchestra. I find it a bit more difficult, however, to concur with colleague Altena that Brahms and Schumann are ever-present in d’Albert’s 1886 symphony. If you’ve not heard the piece before, my guess is you would find its soundscape rather generic, as if fashioned from some factory-made, synthetic, wash-and-wear fabric. The garment fits the style of the day, but the pants are somehow baggy and nondescript. Granted, d’Albert was only 22 when he composed his one and only symphony, but attractive as it is in the moment, it’s not the sort of work whose melodies or other features linger.
If the opening strains of the Symphonic Prologue to Tiefland recall the opening of the Scène aux champs movement from Berlioz’s Symphonie fantastique , it’s with good reason. D’Albert is painting a similar pastoral scene in which two shepherds are heard calling to each other on their pipes. Following that, the music seems to meander along a path on which it first meets, greets, and passes Wagner, only to encounter Debussy around the next bend walking his poodles, Pelléas et Mélisande . I confess to never having heard d’Albert’s opera, Tiefland , but if the rest of it is anything like the Prologue, I can understand the work’s success; it’s actually quite alluring, more so I would say than the symphony. But then the symphony is one of the composer’s earliest orchestral efforts—only the Piano Concerto No. 1 of 1884 predates it—whereas Tiefland came after d’Albert’s self-styled conversion to German-hood, and is a mature work by a composer already seasoned in writing for the stage by six previous operas.
I’m unfortunately not familiar with the CPO recording Altena reviewed, but this current release by Jun Märkl and the MDR Leipzig Radio Symphony Orchestra strikes me as eminently satisfactory. Playing and recording are both topnotch, and if you’re not acquainted with d’Albert’s music, this disc, at Naxos’s budget price, is an excellent way to gain some familiarity with it—enough, at least, to know whether you might care to explore further. On those grounds, recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Bach/Liszt, Schumann & Scriabin: Piano Works
Best Of Verdi - Arias
BEST OF VERDI ARIAS
Giuseppe Verdi:
La traviata: E strano! … Ah, fors e lui … Sempre libera / De’ miei bollenti spiriti / Di Provenza il mar, il suol
Rigoletto: Questa o quella / Caro nome che il mio cor / La donna e mobile
Don Carlo: Io la vidi e al suo sorriso / O don fatale
Aida: Celeste Aida / Numi, pietà del mio soffrir!
Il trovatore: Stride la vampa! / Ah! sì, ben mio … Di quella pira I vespri siciliani: Mercé, dilette amiche
Un ballo in maschera: Ma se m’è forza perderti
La forza del destino: Pace, pace mio Dio! / O tu che in seno agli angeli
Otello: Piangea cantando nell’erma landa / Ave Maria, piena di grazia / Niun mi tema
featuring
Nino Machaidze, soprano
Daniela Dessì, soprano
Dimitra Theodossiou, soprano
Marcelo Álvarez, tenor
Francesco Meli, tenor
Leo Nucci, baritone
Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: PCM Stereo / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: Italian, English
Running time: 110 mins
No. of DVDs: 1 (DVD 9)
