Csaba Szabó (1936–2003) composed music in almost all genres: orchestral and vocal/choral-orchestral works, chamber music, songs, choral works, staged works, incidental musical for theatre, and solos. From this important and varied oeuvre, this recording presents the complete works for piano solo of Csaba Szabó.

His piano pieces were composed over a period of almost three decades, between 1955 and 1981, and it is striking to hear the extraordinary transformations in form, technique, and richness of message that the composer’s style underwent.

He was born in Ákosfalva (Acățari), Transylvania (Romania), in 1936 and graduated in composition from the G. Dima Academy of Music in Cluj-Napoca (Kolozsvár) under the tutelage of Gábor Jodál and János Jagamas, themselves both students of Zoltán Kodály. His first piano pieces are youthful compositions in which – beyond an abundant joy of composing for the piano – we discover his preferences and sources of inspiration: the appreciation of classical formal structures in the Studies: Vivace e Trio and playful Scherzando, the variation form (the composer’s favorite) in the 5 Variations, expressive and dramatic virtuosity in the Bagatel and the Little Suite’s Toccatino ungharese movement, and the accumulation of percussive effects in the Dance with the Fate. His studies and research into folk music led to inspiration from folk-song: the four movements of the Little Suite are a fine example of this, but perhaps even more beautiful are the Roaming Tune and the large-scale variations Moving away. The Parlando, Giusto e Corale, written in 1973, surprises the listener with a truly avant-garde turn.

The considerable fame that Bartolomeo Campagnoli (1751–1827) achieved during his own lifetime was largely due to his contribution to violin studies. The 41 Caprices he wrote for viola and the 7 Divertimenti for solo violin are still in use today. Campagnoli’s career as a concert performer began in Rome in 1775, continuing in a long tour of the courts of the capital cities of Europe. In 1797 he was made concert director and first violin at the Gewandhaus in Leipzig, a post that he held until 1818, although he also maintained his contacts with the most advanced and influential cultural centers of Europe. He thus enjoyed a florid exchange with some of the most famous teachers and Nevertheless, there is an unmistakably composers of the time, in particular with Cherubini and Kreutzer. The idea that ‘true expression depends on the sound, intonation, movement, taste and aplomb of the measure’ was a constant tenet with Campagnoli, as was his insistence on the need to understand clearly the character of each piece in order to appreciate to the full the composer’s intentions. All this required respect for the exact point in which embellishments have to be added (without exceeding), because: ‘nothing is more beautiful and moving than what is simple’.

Bach’s music is often described as indestructible, in the sense that no matter how it is performed, or in whichever arrangement, its essential spirit survives. Therefore transcriptions of the Master’s works are common, today as they were in Bach’s time (Bach (1685-1750) himself was an ardent transcriber!). This new recording presents instrumental works by Bach transcribed for and played on the modern guitar. The selection includes works written originally for lute BWV 996, 997 and 998, and the Sonata BWV 1003 and Partita BWV 1004, originally written for solo violin. Arcady Ivannikov is one of Russia’s leading guitarists, a key figure in the popularization of his instrument in his home country, having organized numerous concerts and festivals.

It’s easy to identify the classical guitar with Spanish repertoire. After all, Andrés Segovia, who revived the fortunes of the instrument in the early decades of the 20th century after long neglect, was a Spaniard. This does not do justice, however, to the major contribution made to 20th-century guitar repertoire by a number of national schools, among which the United Kingdom’s is particularly outstanding for the quantity and quality of the pieces. This album offers a significant sample of music for solo guitar by four important composers: Cyril Scott, Lennox Berkeley, Benjamin Britten and William Walton. Despite being relatively unfamiliar to the wider public, the figure of Cyril Scott (1879–1970) is one of real interest. Though it was written in 1927, Scott’s Sonatina has only entered the repertoire of today’s guitarists in recent years. Its solid compositional mastery gives rise to a beauty at once enigmatic and captivating. Lennox Berkeley’s (1903–1989) compositions for the guitar span almost half a century and are a faithful record of his stylistic evolution. Berkeley’s 4 Pièces pour la guitare is a sparkling collection in spirit very close to the style of composers such as Albert Roussel and Francis Poulenc. The Nocturnal after John Dowland Op.70 (1963) by Benjamin Britten (1913–1976) is also a theme and variations, but rather than present the theme and develop it with variations, Britten inverts the form, revealing the theme only at the very end of the piece after it is gradually unveiled in fragments of a musical mosaic cleverly scattered across the preceding variations. The irreverent japes of William Walton’s (1902–1983) Façade for speaker and instrumental sextet, which in 1922/3 marked the composer’s debut as an enfant terrible, soon gave way to a late-Romantic style closer to Bax and Vaughan Williams.

An obscure corner of the French Baroque illuminated: the only available recording of the sole extant collection by a Parisian organist and composer. About Pierre-Thomas Dufour, almost nothing is now known for certain beyond his death in Paris, on 30 December 1786, and the publication in 1770 of this collection of harpsichord pieces bearing his name. He probably wrote a good deal else, both for harpsichord and organ, given that the title page of the collection informs us that Dufour was organist of the Eglise de Saint-Jean-en-Grève and the Eglise Saint-Laurent, both in Paris.

The collection is divided between dances (gigues, courantes, allemandes and musettes), and stylised evocations indicated by their titles after the fashion of Couperin: ‘The Blacksmiths’, ‘The Doves’ and so on. In his booklet essay, the harpsichordist Fernando De Luca observes that these tone-poems are no less vividly coloured and dramatized than contemporary canvases by Boucher and Watteau.

There are also two self-contained solo concertos for the instrument, in B flat and E flat major. Cast in the conventional three movements, the concertos share a grandeur of spirit with the more stately of the individual pieces such as ‘La Triomphante’ and ‘La Sincere’. Despite his obscurity, there is no reason to regard Dufour as a ‘lesser’ composer on the evidence of this slender collection, especially now that it is recorded in its entirety. A portrait emerges through it of Dufour himself, as a cultivated and cosmopolitan musician, well aware of contemporary trends not only in French music but further abroad, especially in the Italianate dash of the two concertos. The collection closes with a spectacular Carillon in imitation of the church-bells which rang throughout Paris (and every other European city) on the quarter-hour.

Fernando De Luca has accumulated an impressive discography for Brilliant Classics, including substantial and equally pioneering sets of the complete harpsichord music by Christoph Graupner (96131) and Christophe Moyreau (96285). ‘There is much to admire about this recording project… a monumental enterprise… [listeners will admire] both Graupner’s and De Luca’s facility, being rewarded with some attractive music confidently delivered.’ (Early Music Review)

This album – The Anonymous Neapolitan is a continuation of Calandra’s journey to Naples of old, that inexhaustible font of timeless stories, melodies and poetry. From its earliest origins the Neapolitan canzona or song has been bound up with the life of the people of Naples and their innate desire to express their deepest feelings through song and poetry. For at least three centuries, the songs were only ever handed down orally and many of them were lost in the city’s alleyways and taverns, disappearing into the very air of Naples. It wasn’t until the mid-19th century that all this material was collected, transcribed and organized for the first time and Neapolitan song became fashionable among all classes of Neapolitans as well as with broad swathes of visiting tourists who also fell in love with them.

For this Neapolitan anthology, Calandra and Celentano have selected 21 pieces, all by anonymous authors, including a brief instrumental insert from the very distant past, namely the Seikilos epitaph, likewise, of course, anonymous. Following the thread of feeling, Calandra and Celentano have gone back in time all the way to Ancient Greece with this musical fragment discovered in Anatolia in 1883, whose dating ranges from the 2nd century BC to the second century AD, making it the oldest complete piece of music that has found a place in their repertoire. This age-old melody has an innate, almost indescribable beauty, solidifying Calandra and Celentano’s decision to feature it as an introduction to the song that’s believed to be the oldest in the Neapolitan tradition, the ‘Ritornello delle Lavandaie del Vomero’ (Song of the Washerwomen of Vomero). To close the CD: an authentic masterpiece of the Neapolitan dialect repertoire from the 18th century, ‘Lo Guarracino’, whose text describes various characters with abundant invention and sophistication. Nonetheless this can only be attributed to the work of an anonymous poet, whose geniality and refinement are all we know about him or her. There is a sense of continuity between this project and Calandra’s previous Naples-related albums for Brilliant Classics: Scarlatti and the Neapolitan Song, Donizetti: Nuits d’été à Pausilippe and Erotica Antiqua: Neapolitan Villanellas. But most of all it represents a sentimental journey across the centuries and through our fresh imaginings of a hugely important musical heritage that must not be lost. With this album The Anonymous Neapolitan Letizia Calandra’s continues her journey into ancient Naples, an inexhaustible source of timeless stories, melodies and poems. From its origins, Neapolitan song has been linked to the life of the Neapolitan people and their innate need to express their feelings through song and poetry.

In this Naples of the time of unknown authors, for at least three centuries the songs were only handed down orally and many of them were lost in the city's alleys, taverns and air. It was only in the mid-19th century that all this material was collected, transcribed and organized for the first time and the Neapolitan song became fashionable among all the Neapolitan classes and the many foreign tourists who adored it. For this album the artists have chosen an anthology of 21 Neapolitan songs, all by anonymous authors. It starts in ancient Greece with The Epitaph of Sicilus, found in Anatolia in 1883. It dates from the 2nd century B.C. to the 2nd century A.D. and can therefore be considered the oldest complete piece of music that has come down to us. This very ancient melody retains an indescribable primal beauty. The oldest song in the Neapolitan repertoire is the Canto delle lavandaie del Vomero, whose origins date back to the 12th or 13th century. On this mysterious song, there is an exceptional testimony: it seems that the song was heard by Giovanni Boccaccio, who spent his entire adolescence in Naples (between 1327 and 1340), and who mentions it in one of his letters, impressed by its beauty. Closing the CD is an authentic masterpiece of 18th-century Neapolitan dialect literature, Lo Guarracino, written by an evidently brilliant and refined local poet, however sadly anonymous.

Letizia Calandra is widely acclaimed for the great versatility of her voice. Classically schooled and specialized in Early Music she uses her beautiful voice in an original way, which suits the popular nature of the music well. She is a foremost interpreter of classical Neapolitan Song, a perfect blend of the high and the low. On this CD she is accompanied by Valerio Celentano on guitar.

Choro et Organo by Bernardino Bottazzi (1560–1614) may be considered the most extensive and best-known collection of Italian organ works from the early 17th century. In the beautiful edition printed by Giacomo Vincenti, the musical notation used relates to a tradition that is more Renaissance than early baroque: namely, Italian tablature for organ (in this case, with an eight-line stave for the left hand and one of five lines for the right). There are 22 hymns in Choro et Organo. For some of these, Bottazzi’s organ verset is identical, for example Christe Redemptor omnium, whose melody is the same as that sung for the feast of All Saints although with a slightly different text. We know for certain that vocal forces and organ followed a pattern of alternation which, in Bottazzi’s case, seems fully in line with the practices as evidenced by analogous works from the same period: 5 versets for the Kyrie, 9 for the Gloria, 2 for the Sanctus and just 1 for the Agnus Dei, given that – according to Adriano Banchieri (1608) – the last of the three Agnus Dei would be replaced by an organ composition, generally a canzona. It is possible that a collection of canzonas, as well as a number of Magnificats and ricercars, might have formed the basis of a hypothetical second book of Choro et Organo, given that the title on the frontispiece incorporates the standard term of ‘Libro Primo’. Regrettably, we have no information, either on such a follow-up publication, nor indeed about Bottazzi’s own life, other than his self-description as coming from Ferrara (which may only have been a city he resided in or where he took his religious vows rather than where he was actually born). Before each of the organ versets, the beautiful edition of Choro et Organo always presents the melody in cantus firmus, written on a five-line stave. In his introductory text (‘To the gentle reader’), Bottazzi states that he ‘was resolved to have this part of the cantus firmus printed’ so as to circumvent the organist from playing the verset in question at such a pitch as to impede the choir from singing their own melodic part well (‘[…] if the cantus firmus is at one pitch, & the Organist plays it at another, it is impossible for the Chorister to find the correct note’). This unusual feature has allowed the cantus firmus part to be reconstructed with historical accuracy and for it to be sung according to the performance style that emerges from the vast instructional literature on cantus firmus that was produced in Italy during the 17th century. For the number of pieces and the completeness of the repertoire gathered in a single volume, the Choro et Organo by Bernardino Bottazzi (Venice 1614), can be considered the largest and best known Italian collection of organ works intended explicitly for the liturgy of the first three decades of Seventeenth century. Bottazzi's intentions are based on the directions by the Council of Trent which lay out the new rules and specifications of Liturgical Music. To the anthology of organ works the Choro et Organo prefaces an introduction and eighteen Avvertimenti that illustrate the principles of canonical counterpoint (with the intention of educating the organist on the method of composing and improvising from still chant) and offer some suggestions on how to diminish certain melodies and add embellishments. This new recording presents choral works and organ works written by Bottazzi, all splendid examples of Italian sacred music in the transition from Renaissance to Baroque. Played on a rare historic organ: The organ at the church of S. Bernardino da Siena. Played and sung with total dedication and deep knowledge of the style by organist Federico Del Sordo and Nova Schola Gregoriana conducted by Alberto Turco, who already successfully recorded similar repertoire for Brilliant Classics: Organ Alternatim Masses by Merulo, Fasolo and Salvatore. The scholarly written liner notes are by the artists.

Eight years ago, a two-album collection of piano music by Arvo Pärt became a Brilliant Classics best-seller (95053, now reissued on LP), with Jeroen van Veen’s playing capturing both the zeitgeist and the rapturous stillness of the Estonian composer’s aesthetic. ‘Jeroen van Veen’s recording can stand alongside the best from any source, and this set is worthy of high praise in every regard’ (MusicWeb International). ‘All played with insight and a crystalline tone… almost unbearably beautiful’ (BBC Music Magazine). This sequel reprises a selection of those ‘modern classic’ recordings, and adds a trio of newly made recordings for cello and piano. Jeroen van Veen is joined by his pianist wife Sandra, and cellist Joachim Eijlander, to present a portrait of Pärt the man and the composer, attentive to and yet at times purposefully isolated from the turbulent currents of music in the second half of the last century.

The album opens with a new recording of Fratres in its familiar cello-and-piano guise, and continues with masterpieces of ‘new simplicity’ from the 1970s such as Für Alina and Pari Intervallo. Such pieces began to set out the harmonic world of ‘tintinnabuli’, characterized by open and slow-moving harmonies, for which Pärt later became famous worldwide. The Ukuaru Valss affords a rare glimpse of the composer’s lighter side, before an extended version of Für Alina and then the unearthly, imperishable echoes of Spiegel im Spiegel, which distils the sound of Part as much as any other single piece. The album concludes with Pärtomania, a newly written 20-minute tribute to the composer’s soundworld by Jeroen van Veen, scored for the same string-instrument and piano combination as Fratres and Spiegel im Spiegel. Van Veen himself discusses the unique world of Pärt’s music in a booklet introduction.

The organ played a relatively large part in Franz Liszt’s oeuvre, and there are dual organ and piano versions of a number of his works, but some of the pieces specifically intended for piano also translate well to the organ.

This album consists of four organ transcriptions of such piano works. It begins with a wedding (Sposalizio) and ends with a funeral procession (La lugubre gondola), both life moments often associated with church and therefore with the organ, and Liszt employs a church-bell motive in them. In the Sposalizio, as well as in the Adagio (Consolation in D flat) that follows on this programme, there is a typical 19th-century musical religiosity that was also very characteristic of Liszt. His monumental Sonata in B minor is then succeeded by La lugubre gondola, a dark epilogue once again emphasising Liszt’s musical progressiveness and emotional depth.

The heart of this album is the Sonata in B minor in a new transcription. Although it has already been transcribed for organ, the present transcription is specifically intended for the 18th- or 19th-century Dutch metropolitan type of organ, an outstanding example of which is the main organ at the Domkerk (St. Martin’s Cathedral), Utrecht. There is even a historical link between this particular instrument and Liszt’s organ repertoire. In the summer of 1856, Liszt’s student Alexander Winterberger (1834–1914) undertook a tour of the Netherlands, including a performance at the Utrecht Domkerk, which was positively received by the press, with Liszt, too, enthusiastic.

Close to the Schumanns and admired by Mendelssohn and Wagner, Theodor Kirchner (1823–1903) was an accomplished pianist, organist, and composer in his own right. His lifelong friendship with Brahms began when the two men met at the spa town of Baden-Baden in 1865. Robert Schumann had already mentioned him in the same breath as Brahms in the influential 1853 article which effectively launched Brahms’s career. While Kirchner pursued his own, less celebrated career as a composer, he found a reliable subsidiary source of income in making the kind of arrangements through which many listeners made their first encounters with larger-scale works. He seems to have specialized in doing this for Brahms, who regarded him as an outstanding craftsman in this respect.

New recordings of signature works by a young and tragically short-lived lion of the keyboard in late 18th-century France. This is the most extensive set of records ever dedicated to the music of Hyacinthe Jadin, sure to attract the attention of all aficionados of keyboard rarities, especially as performed by the Polish harpsichordist and pianist Marek Toporowski, with his encyclopedic understanding of Baroque and early-Classical repertoire. Born in Versailles in 1776, Jadin grew up in a musical family and was educated in both the French and German traditions, something unusual at the time. His professional career was brief; he was appointed to the Conservatoire in 1795 as one of its first professors of piano, and fell ill from the tuberculosis that would take his life in 1800. Jadin’s surviving output includes six quartets, four piano concertos, and several violin sonatas. From the evidence of these nine piano sonatas – three for each published opus number – we may hear in Jadin an astonishingly gifted composer whose music foreshadows the Romantic era – even at points the expressive poignancy of Schubert. Writing in major keys, Jadin’s elegant facility belongs to his own Classical age; it is when he ventures into remote minortonalities, such as the F sharp minor Sonata Op.4 No.2, that he seems to look forward to another, more personal age of expression. In all cases, however, Jadin evidently took Haydn as a model, for his themes are unfailingly compact and elegantly conceived for the keyboard, his development sections are likewise concise while enlivened with touches of ingenious modulation between keys. In his booklet essay, introducing Jadin’s life and work, Marek Toporowski makes the case for the composer as a French-born Dussek, an outstandingly original figure and one of the great ‘might-have-beens’ of musical history. His stylish performances on a modern copy of a Walter fortepiano support such a claim, as well as affording much delight in their own right.

Mélanie Bonis was one of the most interesting and prolific composers in France in the 20 years before the First World War. Obsessed with striking a balance between music and family, she came to notoriety late, becoming the first woman on the board of the Society of Music Composers. Nevertheless, The Great War put an end to any further publication, with Bonis devoting herself to sacred music (for organ or voice) and pedagogical works. She left a large amount of unpublished material to posterity, however, which demonstrates a knowledge of compositional and orchestrational technique unfairly neglected in her lifetime.

Bonis’s talents found expression in many genres, and the piano was undoubtedly her favorite instrument. Nevertheless, in her chamber music scores the flute is often the protagonist, and in the flute repertoire, Bonis’s chamber music output bridges the gap between Romanticism and Impressionism.