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.

This fourth installment of the Geza Anda edition in the SWR music / haenssler CLASSIC historical series presents the first and the last of Beethoven's piano concertos. As in other recordings before, Anda performs in the First Concerto as both soloist and conductor. These recordings of Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 1 and Piano Concerto No. 5 are areal enrichment of the Anda discography - no other recording of this concert has ever been released.

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.

Classical Music

Award-winning Vibraphonist Lewis Wright returns to Signum following the success of his recording 'Duets' in 2018, with a selection of new compositions this time performed with Matt Brewer (Double-Bass) and Marcus Gilmore (Drums). "The Colour of Intention refers to the creative process itself: that in order to express yourself honestly in music, you have to generate clear intentions developed from thoughts and emotions which then color the work rather than explaining every aspect of it. In the moment of performance, the goal then becomes to put all these previous investigations out of mind and exist in the present. The color of intention is describing everything except performance; the slower processes of development, reflection and refinement and how they'll seep, often unpredictably, into everything that ends up being realized. Working with Matt (Brewer) and Marcus (Gilmore) adds the last and most engaging dimension. How they interpret the music, interact and bring their own highly developed languages to bare, creates something that's both a reflection of my intentions and also infinitely more sophisticated than it's possible for me to conceive of. I think in this sense, human connection is the greatest element of what it is we do as musicians." (Lewis Wright)

M�nica Giraldo is a woman walking two paths. The first one is taking her deeper and deeper into the heart of Colombian music, surrounded by the power of her native land's traditional rhythms. The other one leads her out and away, following melodies and harmonies from the world. M�nica is a singer-songwriter who released two independent albums before earning a nomination for Best New Artist at the 2008 Latin Grammys. Born in Bogot�, Colombia, Giraldo studied music at Unviersidad de los Andes in her hometown and subsequently studied further at Berklee College of Music in Boston. Since her return to Colombia, she recorded several albums: Muy Cerca in 2005, Todo da Vueltas in 2008, which earned her a nomination for Best New Artist at the 2008 Latin Grammys. She also released Que venga la vida with Polen Records in 2014, and Bajo el mismo cielo in 2017. This new release features her very best work.

Classical Music

Classical Music

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

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 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 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

One of the most exciting young artists to emerge in recent years, Martina Filjak is garnering international praise for her poetic passion and technical mastery at the keyboard as well as for her charismatic personality and magnetic stage presence. Martina Filjak came to international attention by winning the Gold Medal, the 1st prize and the Beethoven prize at the Cleveland International Piano Competition in 2009, which brought her numerous engagements in the United States and internationally. Prior to that, she won 1st prizes at the Maria Canals Piano Competition (Barcelona) and the Viotti Piano Competition (Vercelli), and was a laureate at the Busoni Piano Competition. In recent years, Ms Filjak has performed with esteemed orchestras including The Cleveland Orchestra, San Diego Symphony Orchestra, The Florida Orchestra, the Strasbourg Philharmonic, Barcelona Symphony, Bilbao Symphony and the Granada Symphony; the Deutsche Radio Philharmonie, the Staatskapelle Weimar; the Israel Chamber Orchestra as well as the Orchestre Symphonique de Nancy. For this release she has chosen works by Bach arr. Liszt, Schumann, and Scriabin.

Also available on Blu-ray

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)

Things will be jolly good at the Morbisch Lake Festival in 2017! With Christel the post mistress and Adam the bird seller, two of the best-known operetta characters will be returning to the lake stage after an absence of nearly twenty years. Petty corruption in positions of authority, comedy of errors and something for the heart – all the classic operetta ingredients come together masterfully in the Vogelhandler. The arias “Grus’ enk Gott, alle miteinander”, “Ich bin die Christel von der Post” and “Schenkt man sich Rosen in Tirol” are very well known to lovers of operetta throughout the world.

Contemporary music is alive and well in innumerable forms and genres, and the flexibility and colorful sonorities of the flute have attracted composers of every style. This collection of beautiful chamber music with flute is performed by award-winning soloist Alice K. Dade and includes four premiere recordings. These take us from Aaron Jay Kernis’s Air, the composer’s ‘love letter in music,’ via the youthful memories of Michael Fine’s Skipping Stones, the Baroque and jazz elements in Noam Elkies’ E Sonata and the breathtaking mountain scenery of Jennifer Margaret Barker’s Na Tri Peathraichan, to the novel and mysterious musical mirroring of Dan Coleman’s Pavanes and Symmetries, This is a program to tease the imagination and stimulate the senses.

BEETHOVEN: SYMPHONIES NOS. 5 &

Classical Music

Toshiro Mayuzumi was one of Japan's foremost 20th-century composers, enjoying a distinguished international reputation on a par with that of Toru Takemitsu, as well as that of an enfant terrible of the post-war Japanese music world. Versatile and prolific, he contributed music for films, the theatre, the 1964 Tokyo Olympics and broadcasts. His enthusiasm for avant-garde Western music led him to study in Paris, and the Phonologie Symphonique is a synthesis of Varese-like acoustical experiment and serial techniques. The jazz-tinted Bacchanale is Mayuzumi's attempt to produce 'a cosmos of sounds reflecting the vital energies of the origin of music,' and the symphonic poem Samsara is a musical expression of Buddhist teaching, an attempt to escape the seemingly endless cycle of birth and rebirth. This recording first appeared in 1984 on the Marco Polo label. The relationship between the label and the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra has been one of the most fruitful from the early days of Naxos to the present, right up to their irreplaceable contribution to the brand new Wagner Ring cycle conducted by Jaap van Zweden.

Jennifer Koh and Jamie Laredo feature in this recital of works written for two violins. Includes two world-premiere recordings in addition to works by J.S. Bach and Philip Glass. Vinay Parameswaran leads the Curtis 20/21 Ensemble, to which composer David Ludwig (b. 1974) serves as Director. Anna Clyne's (b. 1980) dramatic and inventive works have been championed by musicians from around the world.

REVIEW:

Jennifer Koh’s collaboration with her erstwhile mentor at the Curtis Institute, Jaime Laredo, has resulted in a program of works for two violins played by both of them: Bach’s Double Violin Concerto and three new pieces, all accompanied by Vinay Parameswaran conducting the Curtis 20/21 Ensemble. In Bach’s and David Ludwig’s works, Laredo plays first violin, while in Anna Clyne’s and Philip Glass’s, Koh does. The recordings of Clyne’s and Ludwig’s works purport to be the first. 

The duo adopts quick but not precipitous tempos in the first movement of Bach’s Concerto. Both soloists produce a modern sound that blends well their soloistic counterpart and with the ensemble. They engage in no mannerisms, presenting the music straightforwardly, as they do in the slow movement, though their beauty of tone there provides a focus of interest, rendering their interweaving tonally ingratiating, quite aside from the musical compatibility it evinces. Should their individualities be expressed more obviously? Would the soloists in Bach’s time be clearly distinguishable in such a chamber setting? Quite aside from these more philosophical quibbles, their playing sounds equally homogeneous, as well as highly energetic, in the finale.

Clyne’s 2012 piece, Prince of Clouds, shimmeringly atmospheric and harmonically accessible in its opening, grows texturally chunkier as it progresses, recalling stylistically Benjamin Britten’s keen ear for string textures and resonances—and not only between the soloists but within the ensemble, too. Glass’s Echorus, perhaps even more atmospheric and just as firmly tonal in its harmonic underpinnings, trades on shifting melodic patterns, as do so many of his other works (recalling clouds subtly shifting shapes as they roll, although the two soloists emerge only tentatively from the textures), and rivets listeners’ attention to its hypnotic musical argument. The four movements of Ludwig’s 2012 Seasons Lost represent the four seasons in order but beginning (rather than ending) with “Winter.” The composer suggests that these recall a time before climate change merged the seasons. As do the other two recent works on the program, this one creates atmospheres; and, as does Clyne’s work, it also shows how sharply the composer’s ear discriminates among string sonorities. The composer likens the interweaving violin parts of “Spring” with that of the season’s luxuriantly sprouting greenery, while Summer suggests to him warm nights and bonfires: dark and mysterious and allusive, like the performances. “Fall” brings blowing winds in perhaps the most graphic of the movements, with shriller, almost Stravinskian sonorities and harmonies.

The program evinces a sort of continuity more integral even than the close interaction of the two soloists and the unifying string sonorities: A sort of downy blanket covers all of it, generating lots of warmth without inducing somnolence. Can this, rather than deterministic or aleatory blips and bangs, be the future of music? Has the tonal system really been played out, and did the experiments now almost a century old really come about as a result of historic inevitability? Many listeners could perhaps accept this program as a sort of gentle answer. In any case, the recital should appeal broadly for its performances and for its program (to say nothing of its clear recorded sound). It doesn’t jettison the past so much as it establishes a sort of healing continuity. Strongly recommended.

FANFARE: Robert Maxham