REVIEW:

The Finnish composer-pianist Magnus Lindberg has been the Marie-Josée Kravis Composer-in-Residence at the New York Philharmonic since 2009, at which time the post was initiated by the NYPO’s current Music Director, Alan Gilbert.

I have been aware of Lindberg for some time, but this was my first opportunity for in-depth listening. First impressions were of a restless, often aggressive musical persona; of constantly changing musical landscapes, and brightly coloured, dramatic orchestration. Lindberg’s music is not excessively dissonant or discordant, and he does not shy away from key-centres either. In that sense his music is, as represented here, relatively accessible. On the other hand, it is very complex, and almost profligate in its material; none of these works has a single dominating motif … that I could discern, anyway.

As you listen, you become more and more aware of how cunningly shaped his music is, following definite emotional paths, and evolving, as it were, organically. Thus Expo, on track 1, has a kaleidoscopic feel to it, yet in the end seems satisfyingly inevitable and complete. The performance by the NYPO in the première, recorded here, is quite wonderful, reminding us what a very great ensemble this is.

They are matched by the astonishing pianism of Bronfman in the concerto. This is in three movements, which play without a break. Though it requires both hands to perform (and how - an extra one or two wouldn’t have come amiss), it has a close and intriguing affinity with the Ravel D minor concerto, written for Paul Wittgenstein, who lost his right arm in WW1. Lindberg’s work follows the same kind of progress as the Ravel - from an opening in Stygian depths of darkness to an affirmative conclusion. There are also numerous specific references to the French composer’s themes, rhythmic patterns and textures that are both fascinating and maddeningly elusive. It is a fine and often thrilling work, and Bronfman’s performance, again in the première, is breathtakingly assured.

The Italian phrase Al largo - apparently man being offshore, on the open sea - has much in common with Expo in its sense of shifting land- and seascapes. It is, though, a much longer, more fully developed work, dominated by heroic brass fanfares, busy tuned percussion, and delicate woodwind writing; the solo oboe is particularly prominent. Again there is a sense of finding, then losing, then rediscovering tonal centres as points of rest and stability.

This is an exciting CD, brilliantly performed and recorded; as an introduction to one of the most approachable and individual voices in contemporary music, it could hardly be bettered.

-- Gwyn Parry-Jones, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

The three works in this programme reflect different aspects of Strauss's compositional life. The tone-poem MacBeth, written between 1888 and 1891, offers a grippingly taut narrative. The Dance of the Seven Veils from the 1905 opera Salome is one of it's most exciting and intoxicating moments. Towards the end of his life, facing the ruin wrought by World War II, Strauss took inspiration from Goethe and wrote Metamorphosen, one of the most moving of all twentieth-century works.

For Decades, the Zurcher Sangerknaben Have Been One of the Leading European Boys' Choirs. They Run Their Own Concert Series in Zurich, Give Concerts All Over Europe, in the USA and in China, and Have Performed Under Herbert Von Karajan and Nikolaus Harnoncourt, Among Others. The Zurcher Kammerorchester Looks Back on a Prestigious Past. It's Founder Edmond de Stoutz Was a Close Friend of Many Artists: Yehudi Menuhin, Arturo Benedetti Michelangelo and Maurice Andre Were Regular Soloists. Thanks to Sir Roger Norrington, the Ensemble Is Now a Major International Chamber Orchestra. A Particular Attraction of This Recording Is Jonah Schenkel. As Previously in Pergolesi's Stabat Mater, This Outstanding Boy Soprano Is Absolutely Thrilling. He Fearlessly Masters Every Difficulty in the Solo Sections; His Voice Is Expressive, Pure and Agile, and He Has Exceptional Personal Charisma: A Most Felicitous Combination.

The ensemble Scaramuccia began in 2013, thanks to violinist Javier Lupiáñez's quest to rediscover the lesser-known baroque repertoire. Scaramuccia's purpose is to bring back to life the repertoire of which one could listen not only in the most refined circles, but also in the taverns and on the streets of the baroque past. Along with Vivaldi, this release features Prete Rosso's recently-rediscovered works. This recording is aiming to be part of the new history, featuring these recently discovered works.

After Rhinegold, the first evening of the Ring tetralogy, Oehms Classics released The Valkyries at the same time as the premiere of Siegfried at the Hamburg State Opera, which took place on October 18, 2009.

Including a booklet printed in four colours throughout and containing many impressions of Claus Guth’s production as well as the complete libretto, this is once again an exceptionally elaborate product. While the premiere of the Valkyries suffered due to Falk Struckmann (Wotan) having to pull out at short notice because of illness, this production was recorded during later performances which show Struckmann in full possession of his vocal powers. Simone Young guided her orchestra and the chorus through the famous score in great, irresistible waves of sound while still paying attention to the finest, meticulously rehearsed structural details.

REVIEW:

This performance, recorded live in Hamburg in October, 2008, is a wonderful surprise. Conductor Simone Young brings out the score's mood changes with great drama; you can practically see the shadow of Hunding passing behind the Twins in Act 1, and with each entrance of the tender love music--sometimes just the leitmotif itself--the listener feels a sense of joy.

Young has a particularly youthful-sounding Siegmund in tenor Stuart Skelton, a tireless, intelligent singer without the baritonal low register some prefer, and she emphasizes the brightness of the brass to play against his sound. She also takes the Brünnhilde/Wotan duet in the second act at a nicely quick conversational pace, making it less introspective than usual but also bringing it great urgency. And her final act is glorious, from a thrillingly played and sung ride (complete with trills from the Valkyries), to an ecstatic "O hehrste wonne", through a psychologically exhausting "War es so schmälich", and an exquisite, touching final scene. There isn't a dull moment in this Walküre.

Opposite Skelton's young, impetuous Siegmund we have a mezzo Sieglinde--Yvonne Naef--and rather than this being a drawback, it is a dark-hued, emotionally telling portrayal. There's the occasional strain in the upper register, including at "O hehrste wonne", which, as suggested above, is a knockout--perhaps because it does not sound easy. Mikhail Petrenko's Hunding is too mellow and carries little danger. Jeanne Piland's Fricka is second-rate.

Falk Struckmann's Wotan is brilliantly thought out, and save for a lunged-at high note or five, it's handsomely sung, with a beautiful legato and long breath. His concept of the role (or the director's, or conductor's) is as a loving father to Brünnhilde primarily--hence his rage (which abates) in the third act. He has the authority, but not the inner depth of feeling, of Thomas Stewart or Hans Hotter...I found it poignant in this context.

Deborah Polaski's Brünnhilde, as she nears 60 years of age, seems more solid than ever before. A wobble rarely enters the voice, and though she seems to tire in the third act's second scene, she recovers entirely for her confrontation with Wotan. And when she sings pianissimo, as in the Announcement of Death and "War es so schmälich", she's riveting.

In short, this is a Walküre that is all of a piece, like Furtwängler's, with seamless moves from scene to scene. It isn't nearly as dark or "cosmic", but it is a beautiful reading, and the singing, despite the fact that there are no Varnays or Vickers, is quite fine.

-- ClassicsToday.com (Robert Levine)

Young's balancing of orchestral textures is interestingly calculated, often novel, and most attentive to the written dynamics. …Polaski… is compelling. With Struckmann's Wotan… she achieves a rather wonderful, and sadly beautiful, account of the final duet in the closest communion with Young in the pit.

-- Gramophone

STRONG: Ondine / From a Notebook of Sketches, Suites 1-3

Sergey Prokofiev’s final years were clouded by ill-health, and the Seventh Symphony was his last significant work, full of poignant nostalgia and restrained but deeply expressed emotion. The Love for Three Oranges consolidated Prokofiev’s reputation in the West in the 1920s, both this and the satirical tale of Lieutenant Kije producing two of his most popular suites. This is the final volume of the acclaimed cycle of Prokofiev’s Symphonies with the Sao Paolo Symphony Orchestra conducted by Marin Alsop.

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REVIEWS:

Alsop captures the lyrical aspects of the Seventh work really well. She also has the advantage of a superior recording in the acoustically friendlier Sala São Paulo. The orchestra is superb throughout, but special mention should be made of the woodwinds that have notable solos in the work.

– MusicWeb International

This is one of the most desirable Sevenths on disc. The Sao Paulo orchestra are in good shape, and continue with a display of their refined tonal quality through the remainder of the disc, the creamy double-bass solo at the opening of the Romance in the Kije Suite worthy of special mention. Commendable inner detail, but play the disc at a very high volume to bring it to life.

– David's Review Corner

Rodrigo’s Concierto de Aranjuez is the most celebrated classical guitar work of the 20th century, music that conjures up the color, sophistication and glories of eternal Spain. The founding father of Mexican music, Manuel Ponce, wrote his Concierto del sur for Segovia, and it is a work of vivid grandeur, Sevillian dances and melodic richness. To complete the programme, prize-winning international virtuoso Junhong Kuang plays a piece dedicated to him – Gerald Garcia’s China Sings! – a rhapsody inspired by two popular Chinese tunes. Darrell Ang is the artistic director and chief conductor of China’s Sichuan Symphony since December 2016. He regularly conducts the Radio France Philharmonic Orchestra, Royal Liverpool Philharmonic, Philharmonia Orchestra, London Philharmonic Orchestra, ‘Giuseppe Verdi’ Symphony Orchestra, Munich Radio Orchestra, NHK Symphony Orchestra, Queensland Symphony Orchestra, National Taiwan Symphony Orchestra, Singapore Symphony and at the Mariinsky Theatre in St Petersburg. Darrell Ang received a GRAMMY Award nomination for his Naxos debut recording of Symphony ‘Humen 1839’ by Zhou Long and Chen Yi (8.570611). His most recent albums feature Kabalevsky’s First and Second Symphonies (8.573859) and d’Indy’s incidental music Médée (8.573858), among others.

Many eminent 20th-century composers have been fascinated by the expressive capabilities of the harpsichord, and this selection unites the instrument's traditional idioms with progressive and highly personal sensibilities. Sir Lennox Berkley's music evinces a distinct French influce, while Howell's Clavichord is a series of musical portraits of the composer's distinguished friends. Gavin Bryars has deep roots in the avant-garde, but After Handel's "Vesper" is virtuosic yet expressive, while John Jeffrey's Four Little English Dances are delightful tributes to the harpsichord's lyricism. Christopher D. Lewis performs.

Soprano Mary Bevan and pianist Jopseph Middleton perform a programme exploring the genius of Baudelaire and Goethe, and how texts by them unlocked very specific musical landscapes in settings by Debussy, Duparc, Chausson, de Breville, Severac, Faure and Schubert. Praised by Opera for her “dramatic wit and vocal control” in stand out performances on opera and concert platforms, Mary Bevan is a winner of the Royal Philharmonic Society’s Young Artist award and UK Critics’ Circle Award for Exceptional Young Talent in music. Pianist Joseph Middleton specialises in the art of song accompaniment and chamber music and has been highly acclaimed within this field. Described in the BBC Music Magazine as “one of the brightest stars in the world of song and Lieder”, he has also been labeled “the cream of the new generation” by The Times and “a perfect accompanist” by Opera Now.

William Henry Fry (1813-64) was the first native-born American to write for large orchestral forces (and the first to compose a grand opera), and was a vociferous supporter of music home-grown in the good old U.S.A. That's not to say Fry's music didn't contain European influences: traces of Berlioz, Wagner, and Verdi all show up in his work; but he also manages to include elements of (then) American popular song. For example, the Santa Claus Symphony of 1853 (really more of an extended symphonic poem) features "Rock-a-bye Baby" played on a soprano saxophone. Actually, Santa Claus makes only a brief appearance in this narrative-derived piece, which among other things depicts a lost traveler dying in a snowstorm and the birth of the Savior, before ending with the strings intoning "O come, all ye faithful". Fry's orchestral writing is vividly picturesque, with much imagination lavished on the score's fantasy elements.


An even more graphic portrayal can be found in the 1854 Niagara Symphony, which after a rumbling introduction roars out a big unison theme that mimics the Tuba mirum from Mozart's Requiem. The Overture to Macbeth (1864) contains some pretty exciting passages as well, and here's where the Berlioz influence is particularly strong (especially in the witches' music). Lastly, Fry's The Breaking Heart (a work once believed to be lost) shows his love for Italian bel canto in its many lyrical and "operatic" passages. All told, this is a highly compelling album of some first-rate 19th century orchestral music, enthusiastically and stylishly performed by Tony Rowe and the Royal Scottish National Orchestra, and recorded in top-drawer sound--another winner in Naxos' spectacular American Classics series.
--Victor Carr Jr., ClassicsToday.com

REVIEW:

Since the demise of The City Musick some 16 years ago, Chicago has been without a period-instrument orchestra. Plenty of smaller chamber groups have been trying to fill the void, but it’s not quite the same as having a full-sized period orchestra that can tackle the larger works. Many metropolitan areas in North America can boast of having a Baroque orchestra—San Francisco, Boston, New York, Seattle, Cleveland, Toronto, Montreal. For a great city like Chicago to go without is unthinkable. The formation of the Baroque Band in 2007 was therefore something of an event and grounds for celebration. That this took place on the cusp of a severe economic downturn is even more remarkable. The present CD is the group’s debut recording, and shows it to consist of a nicely rounded 5-4-3-2-1 plus harpsichord, a healthy size by any standard. My thanks to Jim Ginsberg and his enterprising Cedille label for affording us non-Chicagoans the chance to examine the group for the first time. 

In the press release to the CD, Baroque violinist and founder Gary Clarke speculates that this may be the first time the six suites of Biber’s Mensa sonora have been recorded using full orchestra, and he may be right. My past favorite, and the Baroque Band’s chief competition, is the version by Musica Antiqua Köln and Reinhard Goebel (Archiv 423701, nla). Naturally, one cannot expect the same sort of individualistic chamber-music approach from an orchestral performance, but within the context of a larger group, the Baroque Band plays with admirable style and precision. A minor quibble has to do with the omnipresent and very prominent harpsichord continuo. Well played as it is by David Schrader, the occasional inclusion of a theorbo or chamber organ would have provided some much-needed variety.

The featured work is the famous Battalia à 10 (subtitled “for violin, strings, and basso continuo in D Major” in the booklet), and its history on record is traceable to the classic premiere recording by Concentus Musicus from 1966. That LP, which contained several other works of Biber as well as music of Muffat, was rereleased on CD in the early ’90s as part of the Collectio Argentea series (Archiv 437081, nla). It’s fascinating to compare the two period-instrument performance styles of 1966 and 2010. Back then, violinist Alice Harnoncourt played with a very sweet, vibrato-y sound, but also with great authority and presence. Here, Gary Clarke is equally authoritative, but his sound is straighter and ultimately more apropos than Harnoncourt’s. Compared to the ultra-polished but somewhat laid-back Concentus Musicus, the Baroque Band is a well-drilled regiment, clearly in command of the music. It plays with greater energy and really digs into the Bartók pizzicati in “Die Schlacht.” The players ham it up delightfully in the Lamento movement, a perfect depiction of a bunch of drunken soldiers. The “fife and drum” movement is memorable—for once, the parchment-wrapped double bass really sounds like a drum. Of the several versions that have appeared over the years, including MAK’s, the Baroque Band’s is the most successful in capturing the spirit of this unusual and innovative music.

My main complaint about the CD is that there isn’t enough of it! A timing of 56 minutes is pretty skimpy these days—it would have been easy to add another couple of works by Biber, the Pauern Kirchenfahrt , perhaps, or the Sonata representativa . The recorded sound is first-rate, and Gary Clarke’s notes afford a good introduction to the music. An excellent, urgently recommended debut disc.


FANFARE: Christopher Brodersen


Biber's Mensa Sonora ("Sonorous Table") doesn't get as much play as some of his more virtuosic violin works, but it contains splendid music nonetheless. By any standard this is an excellent performance for a period-instrument group, largely because director Garry Clarke made the smart decision to use a larger-size ensemble rather than having the music played one to a part. In his booklet notes Clarke offers all kinds of ridiculous "historical" reasons supporting this decision, and it's sad that today it is unacceptable for period-instrument performers to offer the one reason that we know would have been as valid in the composer's own time as it is in ours: the music sounds better this way.

Mensa Sonora consists of six parts (called "Pars" appropriately enough), each containing from five to seven brief movements. These range from delicate arias and sarabandes to the vigorous and rhythmically inventive second Balletto from Pars II, and including a couple of imposing Chaconnes (in Pars III and VI). A larger ensemble gives more weight and sonority (that's "Sonora", right?) to the big moments, and a richer but still intimate sound to the lighter ones. Sure, there's the usual minimization of vibrato, which is wrong, but with multiple players it matters less than usual, and to his credit Clarke permits them none of that whiny squeezing of notes that so many period ensembles deploy to the point of mannerism in lyrical passages.

The Battalia makes a substantial bonus. Clarke and his company really play up the battle scene, and the drunken soldiers make a jolly cacophony. Only the final lament of the dying doesn't quite work--it seems to me that it should be simply touching and played more or less straight, without the lachrymose chromaticism exaggerated quite so much. Of course, this is very much a matter of taste. As usual with this label, the engineering is superbly natural and well-balanced. A fine disc that all fans of Baroque music will want to consider.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

It is the centerpiece of the Salzburg Festival and an incontrovertible institution: For it’s 100th anniversary, the Salzburg Festival offered an opulent interpretation of Jedermann (Everyman) by Hofmannsthal. "Tobias Moretti plays with great commitment, Caroline Peters gives a brilliant performance" (Salzburger Nachrichten). On 22 August 1920, the first Salzburg Festival opened with Jedermann in a production by Festival founder Max Reinhardt against the breathtaking backdrop of the baroque Salzburg Cathedral. Since then, no other piece has more closely been connected with the 100-year history of the Festival than this play about the transience of the world, fame and money.

Bach wrote his six Suites for unaccompanied cello at C�then, about the year 1720. It is thought that the first four, at least, were written either for Christian Ferdinand Abel, bass viol player at C�then, or for Christian Bernhard Linike, more probably the latter. Abel, appointed to C�then in 1715 is not known to have been a cellist, while Linike was distinguished rather as a player of the cello and in this capacity had been appointed to the musical establishment of the court in C�then in 1716, thus rejoining former colleagues from the Prussian court musical establishment, disbanded in 1713 by Friedrich Wilhelm I on his accession to his father's throne. Both musicians were friends and colleagues of Bach. The original autograph of the suites is lost and the earliest copy is that made by the Gr�fenroda organist and composer Johann Peter Kellner in about 1726. This is followed by that in the hand of Bach's second wife, Anna Magdalena, made probably in 1727 or 1728 for the Brunswick-Wolfenb�ttel chamber musician Georg Heinrich Ludwig Schwanenberger, who had visited Leipzig at the time and taken lessons in thoroughbass from Bach, for whose daughter Regina Johanne he stood as godfather. Each of the six cello suites opens with a Pr�lude. Suite No. 1 in G major, BWV 1007, has an introductory movement in which the changing harmonies are made clear in arpeggiated form. The usual Allemande and Courante are followed by a slow Sarabande, with a repeated Menuet II framing a G minor Menuet II. The suite ends, as it should, with a Gigue. Suite No. 2 in D minor, BWV 1008, opens again with an elaborate Pr�lude, ending with a series of grandiose arpeggiated chords. Once again the Allemande and Courante lead to a Sarabande and a D minor Menuet I is repeated to frame a D major Menuet II, before a lively final Gigue. Suite No. 3 in C major, BWV 1009, has a Pr�lude that is marked Presto in a slightly later source. This opens boldly with a descending scale and an arpeggio that ends on the resonant bottom string of the instrument. A relatively elaborate Allemande is paired with a simpler Courante, followed by a stately Sarabande, a well-known movement that leads to the still more familiar pair of Bourr�es, the second in C minor. The suite ends with an energetic Gigue. The fourth of Bach's cello suites, the Suite in E flat major, BWV 1010, opens, like the others, with a demanding Pr�lude. An Allemande follows, paired with a Courante, leading to a contrasting slow Sarabande. A busier first Bourr�e is followed by a second that is simpler in texture and in the same key. The last movement is a lively Gigue. The fifth and six of Bach's cello suites differ in various ways from the first four. The fifth, the Suite in C minor, BWV 1011, was originally written in scordatura, a practice sometimes found in string music of the period, with the top A string of the instrument tuned down to G. The opening Pr�lude has a slower, embellished introduction before an extended faster fugal section in triple metre, it's fugal texture largely implied. An ornamented Allemande is duly followed by it's companion Courante and a slow Sarabande that strangely avoids the chordal pattern of it's predecessors. A first Gavotte is repeated after the unusual compound rhythm of the second Gavotte and the suite ends with a Gigue in dotted rhythm. The sixth of the suites, the Suite in D major, BWV 1012, is written for a five-string instrument, with an additional top string tuned to E. It has been suggested that Bach wrote this more difficult suite for the viola pomposa, a five-string viola that found occasional use from 1725 to about 1770. It seems, however, that Bach designed this work for the violoncello piccolo, a smaller form of cello, designed for more elaborate solo work and one that he uses elsewhere. The Pr�lude opens with the characteristic sound of bariolage, as the player repeats the note D on alternate strings. The Allemande has elaborate figuration and the companion Courante again exploits the wider possible range of the five-string instrument. A Sarabande is followed by a pair of Gavottes, played in alternation, and the suite ends with the customary and here demanding Gigue.

BACH Preludium in C, BWV 846/1 . Toccata in c, BWV 911 . Praeludium in E? , BWV 1010/1 . Prelude for Cembalo, BWV 998 . Praeludium in c, BWV 999 . Partita in c, BWV 997 . Sonata in a, BWV 1003 . Sarabande in g, BWV 995/4 • Luca Guglielmi (fp) • PIANO 62 (66:47)


As a keyboardist, Johann Sebastian Bach clearly deserves the renown that he attained even during his lifetime, for his compositions and facile playing style. Although much has been recorded on both organ and harpsichord, Bach’s relationship with the newer or more unusual instruments, the fortepiano and clavichord (which, of course, was not so new in the early 18th century), has been the subject of some scholarly work. To be sure, the harpsichord came in a rather substantial variety of forms, and certainly the terms often used during the time, “cembalo” or “Klavier,” were mostly generic rather than instrument-specific, but Bach himself had some interest in the newer keyboards. For example, he sold a Silbermann fortepiano in 1749, a couple of years after he had performed on one at the court in Potsdam. His complaint to the maker about the quality of the fortepiano has often been quoted, but there is no doubt that he knew it well. Moreover, one of his students, Johann Friedrich Agricola, noted that he used to play the clavichord on occasion, mainly for improvising smaller chamber works.


Today, one finds that the various interpretations of Bach’s keyboard works on both older and more contemporary 20th-century instruments can be found in abundance. Luca Guglielmi’s disc adds a slight twist to this crowd by playing a number of small works on three instruments that would have been known by the composer; an Italian fortepiano modeled after a Cristofori original from 1726, a German Silbermann copy from the 1749 model; and a German clavichord after a 1784 Hubert instrument. All of these are tuned so that A=415 Hz, a tuning that would not have been unfamiliar to the composer. Given that these are familiar and oft-recorded works, the main purpose of this disc is to delineate how Bach’s works might have sounded on the three instruments with which he may have been familiar. The eldest is the Cristofori, which is used for the Toccata in C Minor. It has a somewhat stringy and transparent sound. Guglielmi doesn’t stress the action too much, preferring an easy-going tempo, particularly in the fugue. I find that the middle registers of the instrument sometimes are a bit thick, but this does not interfere appreciably with the delineation of the lines. The Silbermann, on the other hand, is a brighter, more resonant instrument. In the opening Praeludium, for example, the broken chords have each tone sustained, almost as if there was a resonating set of sympathetic strings. This may be in part due to Guglielmi’s stately playing, which allows for the resonance to coalesce into subtly dissolving waves of sound. In the C-Minor Partita, the texture is a bit darker, and perhaps a bit more harpsichord-like. The Gigue, for example, has a nice triplet figuration in the middle register, which sometimes outshines the bass line. The two pieces played on the clavichord are far more tinny and have a sort of plucked instrument quality of sound, almost as if they are being played on a mandolin. In the Fugue of the A-Minor Sonata, for instance, the soft sound is like being played through cotton, with little or no resonance at all, and yet the instrumental sounds have a nice attack that allows each line to come through.


As for the performance, Guglielmi is stately and cautious with his tempos, deliberately allowing for the tone qualities of his instruments to come forward. His phrasing is quite well done and conforms to the often subtle shifts in thematic structure of the works. Given the eclectic nature of the music, this may not be a disc for everyone, but certainly those interested in Bach and the fortepiano/clavichord will find this disc more than just an archival curiosity. It is a fine study in the timbre of Bach’s time.


FANFARE: Bertil van Boer

One of the least explored areas of Beethoven’s compositions is the miscellaneous sequence of canons, early exercises in counterpoint, mature jokes and jeux d’esprit that he wrote over many years. He composed a two-part canon for the composer Hummel in 1816 and in 1823 one for four voices (written in a tavern) for Count Lichnowsky. He also wrote birthday and Christmas greetings for colleagues and friends, and songs that punned on recipients’ names or poked fun at them. Viennese chamber choir Cantus Novus Wiendraws on an extensive repertoire of Baroque, Classical, and contemporary music, including a cappella choral music, oratorios by Handel and Haydn, and requiems by Mozart, Brahms, Verdi, and Fauré. Contemporary music is one of the choir’s focal points, including regular world premieres of commissioned pieces. The choir has been conducted by Thomas Holmes since 2001. Ensemble Tamanial is a vocal quartet based in Vienna, Austria. The ensemble was established to provide a place in which to grow and learn as musicians through undertaking soloist responsibility across a wide variety of musical styles, including Renaissance, Classical, Romantic and also in contemporary works. For these Beethoven recordings the ensemble have been working closely with Thomas Holmes as their musical director and wish to express their deep gratitude.

• Henri Hardouin (1727–1808) was a chorister at Rheims Cathedral, rising to maître de chapelle – until the French Revolution disbanded religious establishments.
• Hardouin’s six four-part masses, published in 1772, are unusual for their time in being a cappella and enjoyed wide circulation in pre-Revolutionary France.
• Since then they have been roundly neglected – an omission this two-CD survey intends to rectify.

ALBENIZ / SOLER / DE FALLA / GRANADOS: Piano Espanol

In his piano music, as in his symphonies and string quartets, the English composer David Matthews (b. 1943) marries the idiom of classical tradition with that of his own day. His 2009 Piano Concerto, Mozartian in spirit, contains both a tango and a blues; his Piano Sonata of 1989 includes jazz elements, and his 1997 Variations feature both further blues and a homage to Beethoven. The mood of the music on this CD ranges from contemplative introspection to fiery, rhythmic energy. David Matthews describes the Finnish pianist Laura Mikkola as ‘a marvellous exponent of my music’. This disc is released to mark David Matthews’ 70th birthday in March.

REVIEW:

David Matthews’s 2009 Piano Concerto, with string orchestra, is an approachable, joyfully tonal work that should appeal to pianists and audiences seeking a diverting, fresh 20-minute extension of the worlds of Britten and Tippett, with excellent craftsmanship and minimal complication. It would take an act of desperation not to enjoy it, and unless you are a firebreathing modernist you will.

Speaking of “firebreathing”, the earlier Piano Sonata (1989), in three continuous movements, is far more acerbic and breathlessly dramatic. Prokofieff may be a distant influence, but the language is more relentlessly dissonant, and some would call it “advanced”. It’s pretty exciting, and like most of this composer’s work is unfailingly musical.

The 1997 Variations is an imaginative and very effective set built on a theme of descending thirds very distantly related to Brahms, but its treatment is very much of our time. Always with a distant flavor of tonality in the background, the seemingly improvisatory work holds the attention until the quiet, bluesy close.

Dionysus Dithyrambs (2007, 2004) are two brief pieces inspired by Nietzsche. Scriabin lurks, especially in the pieces dealing with Nietzsche’s insanity, most obviously in the wild final piece (‘Esultante’) with its whiffs of Tristan toward the end. Tristan gets up to dance in the final piece on the program, ‘One to Tango’ (1990, rev 1993), a pleasant but not trivial coda.

This should be of interest to pianists looking for high-quality end of century repertoire.

The excellent Finnish pianist Laura Mikkola acquits herself nobly.

-- American Record Guide