3565 products
Nielsen: Symphonies Nos. 1 & 4 / Gilbert, New York Philharmonic
REVIEW:
These are strong, exciting performances of symphonies that demand the sort of bold muscularity in their execution that these artists offer. In Alan Gilbert’s hands the First Symphony sounds extremely confident and wholly mature. It starts with a bang and the tension in the first movement never lets up. The playing of the New York Philharmonic throughout is fresh and unaffected, full of spirit and drive. Even the Andante flows purposefully forward, and contrasts nicely with the Allegro comodo that does duty for a scherzo–with its harmonic kinks so personal to Nielsen. The finale has the same “pedal to the metal” drive as the opening, bringing the performance to a rousing conclusion.
The performance of the “Inextinguishable” Fourth Symphony also features some really impressive energy and power. In the first movement the brass play with a precision and clarity that few other versions can match, and in the finale the dueling timpani compete with real bravura. The slow movement here reminds me of Shostakovich in its bleak intensity, and my only quibble with Gilbert’s interpretation concerns the symphony’s coda where, like most of his colleagues, Gilbert broadens the pace in the closing bars when Nielsen clearly wants to drive the music home in tempo. Gilbert does pull it off: with an orchestra that has the weight and strength of the New York Philharmonic the effect is convincing, but Gibson (on Chandos) remains unmatched here.
Dacapo’s engineering, as with the previous release in this series, is natural and very present. The woodwinds feel just slightly recessed in more fully scored sections, but I can attest that the music really does sound like this in actual performance with a large orchestra, and certainly nothing gets lost. More importantly, the engineers have captured the impression of a live performance, caught on the wing, and the audience is mercifully quiet. This is a very impressive release.
– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
The Britannic Organ, Vol. 9
Volker Mainz - Mainz Studio Recordings (1963-1969)
When the Darmstadt teenager Volker Kriegel (1943-2003) officially debuted his first chords in the late 1950s, the guitar was still an outsider instrument in jazz. It could boast a few luminaries, but actually everything was still open when, in 1963 and 1964, the autodidact from Hessen won first prizes as guitarist and soloist at the amateur jazz festival in Düsseldorf. The debut recordings in 1963, which Südwestfunk (SWF) recorded with the nineteen-year-old guitarist in trio at the Deutschhaus in Mainz, and the 1969 studio sessions in the Kammersaal Studio, are worlds apart. For one thing, the guitar itself had carved out a career. On top of this, Kriegel had gained in self-confidence. But above all, he had found a counterpart in Claudio Szenkar, who opened up perspectives not only in terms of communication and composition but also through Kriegel’s own instrument. The combination of vibraphone and guitar was then still fairly new. In 1968, Kriegel decided to make music his main profession. Thanks to "With A Little Help from My Friends" and an appearance at the German Jazz Festival in Frankfurt, he achieved the breakthrough into public recognition. Together with the vibraphonist Dave Pike, the bassist Hans Rettenbacher and the drummer Peter Baumeister, he founded the Dave Pike Set, which became for four years his artistic center and a beacon combo of European jazz rock. And for the SWF (Südwestfunk, today SWR) he went twice into the sound studio. With the exceptions of The Beatles’s anthem "Norwegian Wood" and "Mother People" by the young guitar berserker Frank Zappa, hardly any pieces by other musicians are still to be heard in these recordings.
Vaughan Williams: The Poisoned Kiss / Hickox, Bbc National
This is the premiere recording of Vaughan Williams's opera The Poisoned Kiss. This romantic extravaganza contains some of the composer's finest music, and a sense of fun runs through the delightful score. Vaughan Williams began writing The Poisoned Kiss, his fourth opera, in 1927. He was also working on Sir John in Love and had begun sketching the first scenes of Job. he was at the height of his musical powers, yet The Poisoned Kiss has remained unperformed, unrecorded and unknown. The reason for this neglect lies mainly in the rather dated text and the lengthy sections of spoken dialogue (some of which is omitted in this recording). It did not help that the composer and the librettist were uncertain about the balance between comedy and drama in the opera, a dilema that led to major revisions of the work by Vaughan Williams in 1936 and again in 1956-57. In the final version the composer's lyricism dominates the humour and we are treated to an extraordinary wealth of expressive and heart-felt music whcih does not deserve to be ignored. Recorded in: Brangwyn Hall, Swansea 3-6 January 2003 Producer(s) Brian Couzens Sound Engineer(s) Ralph Couzens Matthew Walker (Assistant)
Tower: Made in America, Tambor, Etc / Slatkin, Nashville Symphony
All tracks have been digitally mastered using 24-bit technology.
Myrtle & Rose: Songs by Clara & Robert Schumann / Stegall, Zivian
-----
REVIEW:
This little recording has a great deal worth recommending. The gentle singing of tenor Kyle Stegall and the circumspect but active accompaniment by Eric Zivian are strong points. The program is elegant. The real star of the show, however, is not Stegall or Zivian, but Zivian's period piano, an 1841 instrument by the Viennese builder Franz Rausch. Many historical performances featuring pianos from this period use French or English models, and the name of Rausch is not much known. However, it fits this music admirably, producing a subtle, silvery tone that brings out the poetry without retreating into the background. Continuing credit to the Avie label for uncovering distinctive little-known performers.
– All Music Guide (James Manheim)
Con-ri-sonanza - Simaku: Chamber Works / Houston, Quatuor Diotima
Born in Albania in 1958, Thomas Simaku studied composition at the State Conservatory of Music in Tirana. He moved to England in 1991, where he was able to immerse himself in the music that had been banned in his native country, and especially that of Ligeti and Kurtág. This, as well as his earlier experience of working with Albanian folk musicians, had a lasting effect on his own music – but as Simaku himself puts it: ‘when it comes to creativity, one should at least try to speak with one’s voice, however small that might be.’ He often composes for specific performers and the present album highlights his collaborations with Quatuor Diotima and with the pianist Joseph Houston. Catena I, the opening work as well as the most recent one on the programme, was written for Houston, while the String Quartets Nos. 4 and 5 were destined for Diotima, of which Simaku has said that ‘one cannot fail to notice their individual and sensitive approach to sound and color, and their huge range of expression. I have tried to embody these idiosyncratic qualities in both quartets.’ Houston also plays two works written by Simaku as tokens of his respect for two composer colleagues: L’image oubliée d’après Debussy and Hommage à Kurtág. These frame the piano quintet con-ri-sonanza which has also given its name to the entire album, after the sonic qualities it embodies: consonanza, risonanza, con risonanza …
Elgar: Piano Quintet & Sea Pictures (Orch. Fraser) / Woods
A lazy unobservant glance at the details of this disc had me assuming that the Piano Quintet had been re-engineered into a Piano Concerto to join the Elgar/Walker. No such thing. What we have here is something of symphonic proportions and character. While there are some dark and dramatic moments and even some hints of the Second Symphony this now comes across as reflective and in the same territory as Falstaff. The first movement has an air of halting even fearful uncertainty. It's all very smooth though, suave even. A Viennese lilt at 10.00 is one of several instances where things become quite Brahmsian. The second movement is almost Finzian as details entwine much as they do in the woodland Interludes in Falstaff. The finale has its exciting moments but is overall quite nostalgic, philosophical, and regretful.
These two works in new colors should give many more opportunities to hear this music although ironically each requires a greater number of performers than the originals. Of the two Sea Pictures strikes me as the more attractive.
– MusicWeb International (Rob Barnett)
The Britannic Organ, Vol. 2: A Christmas Voyage
Maria, Dolce Maria
Dall'Abaco, Porpora, Macello, Tartini & Telemann: Concertos / Bicket, The English Concert
Founded in 1973 by Trevor Pinnock, the English Concert has been a leading light in the performance of Baroque and Classical music for for over 40 years. Under their present Artistic Director Harry Bicket and with distinguished guest artists they continue to perform with the passion, sophistication and technical mastery established at their creation. Such is the commitment and passion that their players bring to every performance. Drawn not only from home-grown talent, The English Concert can boast a truly international cast of musicians. Soloists in their own right, and backed-up by scholarly knowledge of style and genre, the close-knit relationship between their musicians makes for a truly special blend of sound. This new recording features the talents of these soloists in performances of Concertii by Telemann, Marcello, Dall’Abaco, Tartini and Porpora.
Mahler: Symphony No. 7 / Jarvi, Residentie Orchestra The Hague
This is his second Chandos recording with the Residentie Orchestra The Hague, of which he is chief conductor. The first, of Bruckner’s Fifth Symphony (CHSA5080) was released in April to excellent acclaim. Gramophone wrote: ‘Järvi is too good a musician not to take his players with him. Indeed the Dutch musicians display a certain daredevil nonchalance as they breeze their way through the epic 635-bar finale.’
Mahler’s Seventh Symphony is perhaps the least well known of all Mahler’s symphonies. Its five movements were written over a period of two years, 1904 – 05, and scored and revised in 1906. The symphony has no programme, but the two serenade movements were influenced by the German romanticism of the poetry of Eichendorff, and elements of the fairytale, the macabre, and the sentimental permeate these movements.
Even though the symphony is imbued with a richness of melody, and bold and original harmonies, it is perhaps the most enigmatic of all Mahler’s symphonies. It begins with a striking funeral march, which develops into a powerful allegro, though the music is at the same time full of ‘dream-like’ elements. These dream-like fantasy elements pervade the serenade movements, which are separated by an exciting central scherzo, and the symphony ends with a vigorously contrapuntal finale. Perhaps the symphony can be seen as a journey from darkness to light, from the B minor gloom of the beginning, to the blaze of C major at the end. The journey is fascinating and very rewarding.
Quayle: String Quartets Nos. 1-3 / Avalon String Quartet
Matthew Quayle writes: “I am delighted to share the Avalon Quartet’s powerful rendition of my three string quartets on Naxos. These remarkable musicians display their uncommon insight and interpretive range throughout the album- from the introspective yet ardent journey of the expansive First Quartet, to the spiky mischief of the Second, to the enigmatic meandering through the thirteen fleeting movements of the Third. They have fully captured the stylistic diversity and dramatic intensity of these deeply personal pieces.” Matthew Quayle’s music has been commissioned and performed by ensembles including Albany Symphony Orchestra, Arditti String Quartet, Avalon String Quartet and Baltimore Chamber Orchestra. He is active as a pianist and has performed widely as a solo pianist and chamber musician. The Avalon String Quartet, who have recorded the works, were involved in the early performances of all three quartets and they have earned the composer’s strong admiration and imprimatur. The Chicago Tribune described the quartet as “an ensemble that invites you- ears, mind, and spirit- into its music.”
Samuel Jones: Symphony No 3, Tuba Concerto / Olka, Schwarz
Siegfried Wagner: Der Kobold / Strobel, Broberg, Horn, Et Al
S. WAGNER Der Kobold • Frank Strobel, cond; Rebecca Broberg ( Verena ); Regina Mauel ( Gertrud ); Andreas Mitschke ( Ekhart ); Achim Hoffmann ( Trutz ); Johannes Föttinger ( Fink ); Philipp Meierhöfer ( Kümmel ); Volker Horn ( Friedrich ); Nicholas Isherwood ( Der Graf ); Martina Borst ( Die Gräfin ); Ksenija Lukic ( Jeannette ); Marco Bappert ( Jean ); Joachim Höchbauer ( Knorz ); Heike Kohler ( Käthe ); Young Jae Park ( Seelchen ); PPP Music Theatre Ens; Nuremberg SO • Marco Polo 8.225329 (3 CDs: 195:27)
Each time I listen to this recording of The Goblin , I am utterly unnerved—do not be fooled by the descending flute figures that cue the overture, like Pan himself coming down to bless the land. Obviously, there is no shortage of warped and twisted librettos, which tend to serve as jumping off points for music yet more warped and twisted, but my goodness, our man Siegfried was exorcising some personal demons with this work—ironically, by enlivening some.
The first “sung” note, once the gentle, autumnal instrumental opening has concluded, is a scream, one that comes through on the recording like a spike—no reverb, no vibrato, just fear, hammered home. We are dealing with a dramatis personae of goblins (including one whose entrance into the world comes courtesy of a mixture of a hanged man’s seed and the yellow grass below), a wizard, some assassins, night phantoms, a few satyrs, a circus collective, a rapist, and such cheery pursuits as infanticide, abortion, flesh trading, and prestidigitation for, shall we say, less than salubrious ends. Good luck sorting out the plot, which is about as close to postmodernism as Siegfried ever got, and features an opera within the opera, and a climax not dissimilar to F. W. Murnau’s Nosferatu , which had the subtitle, intriguingly enough, of “A Symphony of Horrors.”
The quality of the recording itself will jar you, but that’s part of its effectiveness—weapons crash to the ground as though they’ve landed on microphones, or like something is kicking inside the speakers and trying to get out. It’s a fascinating, weird kind of audio-vérité, that further unsettles the nerves; but distortion was Siegfried’s ally in the creation of this work, and some passages even appear, at first, to be atonal. Rebecca Broberg as Verena, the opera’s heroine—a default designation, really, in this case, given her successive and ultimately defeating tragedies—is really stretched on the rack in her exceedingly taxing role, and it is through her vocal lines that we experience whatever empathy—which often takes the forms of anxiety and fear—the opera has to offer. It’s been remarked that for all of its fantastical elements, Der Kobold is something of a gangster story, but the noir -ish element becomes almost hallucinatory in the constant churn of crises, a vortex of demonism, you might say—of both the supernatural and human variety, the latter, of course, always being worse. Cpo has a Siegfried Wagner sampler disc with the West German Radio Symphony Orchestra and Roman Trekel handling an excerpt, but for the whole, vivid nightmare, you’ll need this set to be properly shocked and disturbed. And for those who cherish their illusions of childhood, there is perhaps no 20th-century opera that poses such a menacing threat to any and all forms of latency.
FANFARE: Colin Fleming
Cello Solo Journey / Luciano Tarantino
When the Catalan cellist Pablo Casals revived the solo suites of Bach in the first decades of the last century, he reminded both audiences and composers of the huge potential of his instrument to hold the stage in its own right, no less than a violin or a piano. Inspired by his charisma, and that of his successors such as Tortelier and Rostropovich, many modern composers have followed Bach’s example. The Italian cellist presents music by ten of them on this exciting debut album for Brilliant Classics. Tortelier and Rostropovich are represented by their own, little-known but highly imaginative works – a Circus Suite and an innocently titled but fearsomely challenging study respectively. Carter Brey, the principal cellist of the New York Philharmonic, has also written for the instrument with inside knowledge, in a tango of big, seductive gestures preceded on Tarantino’s album by Latin-themed showpieces from Albeniz, Piazzolla and Rogerio y Taguell. Each half of the album is brought to a reflective close with a soliloquy by the modern Italian composer Giovanni Sollima. The cello’s melancholy moods are further explored by Ilse de Ziah and Sebastian Diezig, but Tarantino has chosen and ordered his repertoire to display the cello’s expressive range to its fullest. Mixing familiar and little-known composers, it’s a perfect introduction to the ever-expanding universe of solo cello music beyond Bach. Born in 1977, Luciano Tarantino is a performer and teacher with his origins in Puglia, in the far south of Italy. He has played with many of today’s greatest conductors and founded a music festival in the region of his birth. On this recording he plays a fine 1736 cello by Antonio Testore.
A Jazzman's Broadway
Before he was a noted composer of such shows as Little Me, Sweet Charity, Barnum and On the Twentieth Century, Cy Coleman was the favorite of the New York cabaret and supper club scene. Now, for the first time, Cy and his fellow musicians play the scores of Harold Arlen and E.Y. Harburg’s hit show Jamaica in addition to songs from the Rodgers and Hammerstein hits Flower Drum Song and South Pacific. The works from the latter production have been taken from rare transcription recordings, and are making their first debuts since being recorded in the early 1950s. While listening to this jazzy album, think of yourself sipping a Manhattan cocktail or a martini at the Shelburne or Park Sheraton hotels’ club while Cy Coleman and his fellow musicians regale you with a bevy of Broadway blockbuster tunes. It’s ‘50s jazz at its finest.
Tchaikovsky & Scriabin: Piano Concertos / Xiayin Wang, Oundjian, RSNO
The bar is set very high when it comes to these concertos, and that poses a formidable challenge for pianists brave – or foolhardy – enough to attempt them. That said, having reviewed Xiayin Wang and these forces in a splendid pairing of the Khachaturian concerto and the original version of Tchaikovsky’s G major one, I’ve no doubt she’s bold – and limber – enough to vault these three (with room to spare). And the presence of Peter Oundjian and the RSNO, whose latest John Adams release was so warmly welcomed by Simon Thompson, is a definite plus.
Usually, I list several of comparative versions of the work(s) under review, but this time I’ll select just one each. Starting with Tchaikovsky’s first concerto, I was much impressed by Alexandra Dariescu’s 2014 account with Darrell Ang and the Royal Philharmonic (Signum). As for the third concerto, I always return to Peter Donohoe, Rudolf Barshai and the Bournemouth Symphony, recorded in 1989 (Warner). Then there’s the Scriabin, as set down by Yevgeny Sudbin, Andrew Litton and the Bergen Phil in 2013 (BIS).
Given the legendary status of Tchaikovsky’s Op. 23 – and its long line of stellar soloists – it’s all too easy for lesser pianists to over-reach themselves with this one. That’s what turned me off two recent recordings, with Denis Kozhukhin (Pentatone) and Beatrice Rana (Warner). Indeed, one of the greatest strengths of the Dariescu/Ang performance is that it doesn’t punch above its weight. That said, there’s eloquence and insight aplenty, which, together with an attractive coupling – Mikhail Pletnev’s Nutcracker arrangement – and good sound, makes for a most enjoyable release.
That same judicious approach is very much in evidence in Xiayin Wang’s Op. 23, the famous opening still thrilling in its surge and sweep. She’s firm and focused from start to finish, Ralph Couzens and Jonathan Cooper’s recording warm and weighty. The RSNO are on top form, too, with liquid woodwinds and songful strings. But it’s the soloist’s imaginative phrasing and disarming manner that deserve the most praise here. Also, Oundjian, a sympathetic accompanist, allows the music to ebb and flow in the most natural and unobtrusive way. Tuttis are all the more satisfying for being so discreetly signposted and so sensibly scaled.
My word, Xiayin Wang is a very thoughtful and engaging artist, the pliancy and soul of the ensuing Andantino especially pleasing. What a lovely touch, too, Tchaikovsky’s jewelled writing as lustrous as one could wish. Happily, she’s rhythmically supple yet suitably animated in the Allegro con fuoco, which burns with a steady flame rather than flares with magnesium heat. Then again, that’s the nature of this performance, which has none of the self-seeking pyrotechnics that so often mar this exhilarating finale. And so it is with the compact, closely argued Op. 75, where Xiayin Wang’s technical prowess, sensitively channelled, serves the music and nothing else.
How sensuous she is in the Scriabin, its rich harmonies superbly realised by soloist and orchestra alike. It’s a piece that’s apt to sprawl, and that it doesn’t here is a measure of everyone’s clarity and commitment. The Andante has wonderful poise and detail, the latter a reminder of how good the engineering is. It’s all so exquisitely washed and tinted, our painter-pianist showing exemplary taste and good judgment throughout. As for the finale, essayed with a strong sense of shape and approaching exultation, it’s even more rewarding when delivered with such assurance and style.
Would I want to be without Dariescu and Donohoe in the Tchaikovsky, or Sudbin’s Scriabin? No, but I’m happy to file Xiayin Wang’s fine performances alongside theirs. And while I’ve grumbled about the sound of some recent Chandos releases, I’ve absolutely no qualms about this one. Detailed liner-notes by David Nice complete a most attractive package.
Xiayin Wang just gets better and better; well worth your time and money.
– MusicWeb International (Dan Morgan )
This is one of the freshest and most enjoyable accounts of Tchaikovsky 1 I have heard for a long time. In Xiayin Wang’s hands and supported superbly by the impressive Scottish players and their conductor, the concerto takes on the narrative of a tone poem in an account of commendable brio and clarity. This is among the most deeply felt and warm-hearted accounts of No. 3 you will hear.
– Gramophone
