This new release is an album of contemporary works for clarinet, supported by guitar, piano, and double bass. These works take as their foundation the traditions of Portuguese folk music. One of the more visible and active clarinetists on the scene today, Wesley Ferreira has been praised by critics for his "beautiful tone" and "technical prowess" (The Clarinet Journal) as well as his "remarkable sensitivity" (CAML Review). Fanfare Magazine notes, Ferreira is "clearly a major talent". As a recital clarinetist, his performances continually engage audiences, compelling the artistic director of one recent concert series performance to remark that Ferreira "showcased a potent synthesis of serious musicianship, technical ferocity, and bravery of programming that was effectively tempered by a dynamic flair for showmanship. With this performance, Ferreira proved not only is he an artist of some consequence, but also a consummate showman capable for presenting even the most challenging works with the ease and fluency of a world-class player."

Winner of the 2011 Israeli Ministry of Culture Outstanding Ensemble Award, the Israeli Chamber Project brings together some of today's most distinguished young Israeli musicians for chamber music concerts and educational and outreach programs both in Israel and abroad. A dynamic ensemble comprising of strings, winds, harp and piano, the Israeli Chamber Project has quickly made a name for itself through it's passionate musicianship and creative programming. In North America, the Israeli Chamber Project has appeared at Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall, the Morrison Artists Series in San Francisco, and has been featured on NPR's Performance Today.

"•The Grammy Award-winning Pacifica Quartet and the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra’s superstar clarinetist Anthony McGill join forces for the clarinet quintets of Mozart and Brahms – widely considered the greatest chamber works for clarinet and strings. • Both are mature masterworks inspired by phenomenal clarinetists of their day. • This is McGill’s first commercially released album as featured soloist and his Cedille Records debut. • This is the Pacifica Quartet’s ninth Cedille album."

"Some of the most beautifully played and appealing contemporary chamber and piano pieces you're likely to hear", said American Record Guide about the album Mezzotints – Chamber Music by Ståle Kleiberg. And now there is a follow-up: a new string quartet, two trio constellations and the song cycle ‘Do You Believe in Heather?’, which has given the album its title. Ståle Kleiberg is often called a "modern romantic", and for good reason. We encounter a distinctive and highly individual alloy of modern and romantic elements in his music, whether it is characterized by a still, meditative lyricism or an energizing vitality. His String Quartet no. 3 encompasses this entire range of expression. The music speaks of summer. It is imbued with joie de vivre, and was composed with a full command of the genre and with considerable virtuosity. The flute-viola-harp ensemble is less common, but by no means unknown. Following Debussy's Sonata, several trios have been composed for this ensemble, and Kleiberg's ‘Trio Luna’ is a fine and most welcome addition. The work's three movements capture the mood of three dissimilar outer and inner landscapes, all of them bathed in moonlight, albeit at different times of day and night. ‘The Light Smith’ is also a trio; it is a song cycle for mezzo-soprano, clarinet and piano, and is chamber music on a very high level of inspiration. Both ‘The Light Smith’ and ‘Do You Believe in Heather?’ are settings of poetry by the distinguished Norwegian poet Helge Torvund. These poems engage with such archetypal themes as light, quietude, love, death and nature, but they treat these themes as real, everyday experiences, rather than abstract concepts. While the theme of ‘The Light Smith’ centers on the beginnings, growth and culmination of life, it is autumn and winter we meet in ‘Do You Believe in Heather?’

Distinguished in his day as a conductor and pianist, Reinecke is now remembered chiefly as the teacher of some of the leading composers of the later 19th century. He was, at the same time, an immensely prolific if relatively conventional composer.

Martin Fröst displays versatility and staggering virtuosity: eventful Anders Hillborg, assertive Holmboe, atmospheric Karin Rehnqvist and jolly Crusell.

– BBC Music Magazine

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Testifying to the multi-facetted talent of Martin Fröst as well as to the different responses that the clarinet has awakened in composers over the years, the present compilation brings together four concertante works in recordings that have all been previously released on separate discs. The opening work, Fröst’s fellow-Swede Anders Hillborg’s ‘Peacock Tales’, is the longest of the four, as well as being something of a calling card for Fröst. It was composed for him in 1998, and on his initiative it incorporates choreographical elements and lighting effects when performed in concert. Hillborg has since made several versions of the work, and Martin Fröst has performed it numerous times worldwide in its different incarnations. The disc Dances to a Black Pipe (BIS-1863) includes a shorter chamber version for clarinet, piano and strings, but the present recording is of the original version, with large symphony orchestra. If Peacock Tales focuses on the soloist, the opposite might be said of the Danish composer Vagn Holmboe’s Concerto No.3 from 1942. The work is one in a series of 13 concertos for one or more solo instruments and small orchestra, and it would seem that the composer, by not mentioning the solo instrument in the titles of these works, wished to signal a particular concern in regards to the relationship between soloist and orchestra. Writing about her On a Distant Shore, subtitled ‘poem for clarinet and chamber orchestra’, the Swedish composer Karin Rehnqvist discusses the same problem more directly: ‘How does one arrive at a relationship between soloist and orchestra which is interesting and musically rewarding for everyone: soloist, orchestra and audience?’ Such concerns were probably of less concern to Finnish-Swedish composer and clarinet virtuoso Bernhard Crusell. Active during the beginning of the 19th century, Crusell is today mainly known for his clarinet concertos and clarinet quartets, but here Martin Fröst’s clarinet jauntily guides us through one of his earliest works: Introduction, Theme and Variations on a Swedish Air – the air in question being a drinking song popular at the time.

MOZART Clarinet Concerto. 1 Trio for Clarinet, Viola, and Piano, K 498 “Kegelstatt” 2. Allegro for Clarinet and String Quartet, K Anh 91 (516c) 3 • Martin Fröst (cl); 1 cond; 2 Antoine Tamestit (va); 2 Leif Ove Andsnes (pn); 3 Janine Jansen, 3 Boris Brovtsyn (vn); 3 Maxim Rysanov (va); 3 Torleif Thedéen (vc); 1 Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen • BIS 1893 (SACD: 53:43)


This is Martin Fröst’s second take on the Mozart Clarinet Concerto, recorded some decade after his first bestselling album. He here performs the Concerto, as in his first take, on a basset clarinet. Rather than including the Clarinet Quintet—the standard offering on most albums and his choice for his first disc—Fröst has brought together an array of artists and recorded two other chamber works: the “Kegelstatt” Trio for Clarinet, Viola, and Piano, and the fragmentary Allegro for Clarinet and String Quartet, which was completed only in the 1960s by Robert Levin. Fröst here also follows the path of many a pianist nowadays and chooses to conduct the orchestra himself in the Concerto. It is obviously a work he knows inside and out and loves deeply, as his simple yet heartfelt way with the piece shows. In some ways he sees the piece ever more inwardly speaking than he did his first time around. Though he may be one of the most technically proficient players of his instrument around today, and the ease of his performances is at times bewildering, this should not be confused with emotional distance. His Mozart Concerto sings occasionally, but more often it speaks: the first lone appearance of the instrument seems to grieve over some great loss, the sighing motives made palpable by his ever careful phrasing of them—and this all in the bright key of A Major! His full attention to details of articulation, his use of orchestral swelling to add tension (sometimes a bit much for my taste), and his ability to color his line differently than the orchestra all add to the overall interest in the movement. The Adagio which follows is perhaps even more inward looking than the first, yet it reveals that glimmer of hope that will be fulfilled in the final lighter-hearted, almost bubbling Rondo.


The mood is perfectly set for the more intimate nature of the “Kegelstatt” Trio. Joined by pianist Leif Ove Andsnes and violist Antoine Tamestit, here Fröst and company adopt a much more lyrical, singing approach to the work than that taken in the Concerto, though the energy at times feels a bit low—once again a mellow, inward-looking approach is taken. And though one may quibble about certain details, this is spectacular chamber playing, as just a quick glance at the final Rondo will show: each and every lyrical phrase is carefully performed and thoughtfully answered, producing a wonderful sense of give and take, a palpable sense of dialogue. The small Allegro for Clarinet and String Quartet, of which Mozart left an entire exposition, carefully and tastefully completed by Levin, makes for a fine encore to the recital. The energy that the players bring, along with their fine sense of stylistic matters in terms of articulation, instrumental balance, and gracefulness all add to the overall joie de vivre.


Perhaps my biggest complaint is that this recording gives us only 53 minutes of music; were it not for the final fragmentary Allegro recorded here, or even if a few repeats were to be left out in the mix of movements throughout the recital, the entire Clarinet Quintet could also have fit onto the current recording, and with a stellar roster to perform it! And yet the performances themselves—recorded in spectacularly vivid SACD sound, making one’s home feel like a concert hall—make one forget one’s prejudices about such trivialities. So the real question should be: which Fröst/Mozart should you go for? At least one, and that might depend more on how you like it served: with a side of Clarinet Quintet or a “Kegelstatt” Trio. Either way, you’re in for a treat.


FANFARE: Scott Noriega

It’s remarkable that The Diary of Anne Frank has not been the subject for a major choral work until this thoughtful and often moving setting of selected texts (the original version premiered in London in 2005, conducted by Leonard Slatkin) by English composer James Whitbourn and librettist Melanie Challenger. Material from the ultra-famous diary has been used for an oft-performed opera/mono-drama (by Grigori Frid), a song cycle, numerous individual songs, and of course as the basis for a famous play and movie, but never for a vocal work of this form (a kind of choral-song cycle/cantata/tone poem) or scope (14 musical sections lasting a total of 70 minutes).

A convincing argument could be made that Anne Frank’s diary doesn’t need musical treatment; it works just fine on its own. Its prose (translated from Dutch to English) does not readily fall into musical phrases; neither do those phrases, beautiful as they often are, suggest handy poetic rhythms. Rather, the power of Anne Frank’s writing lies in the fact of its unadorned simplicity and heartfelt expression, which needs no embellishment or commentary. That said, Whitbourn, who is a first-rate composer for voices, has seen fit (been inspired) to attempt to enliven and enrich some of those revered words with music, and Annelies (Anne Frank’s full, original name was Annelies Marie Frank) is the result.

Whitbourn states that Annelies is “a commemorative work” both for Anne and for “those voiceless millions who shared her fate.” The intent of the librettist was to focus on Anne’s keen observations of people, of events in her immediate environment and of the world beyond, and of her own situation and longed-for destiny. The order of presentation of the text selections is not chronological (the first one is from April, 1944, only a few months before the inhabitants of the Annexe were found by the Nazis and taken away); rather the selections are organized to capture the essence of Anne’s thoughts, feelings, and character independent of time, which at some point ceased to have the same relevance for her as for those not confined as she was, separated from the normal measurements of life and progress.

Setting English prose, especially of the un-self-conscious variety, to music is not easy—it usually comes off sounding unnatural, contrived, forced. Melodies go off in weird directions, misled by irregular rhythms and jagged inflections. Britten and Menotti got it absolutely right; Whitbourn, while very often successful, doesn’t always join them. When you have to set words such as, “I started packing my important belongings. The first thing was my diary…”, or, “We arrived at the Prinsengracht, led through the long passage and up the wooden staircase to the Annexe…”, you need to think of the realization as speech, not as some remote, detached musical expression. But here, passages like this seem contrived to “fit” rather than to illuminate the thought or idea of the speaker.

One problem for me was the choice of soprano for the solo passages. Arianna Zukerman unquestionably has a beautiful voice, but her big sound and operatic style, especially in this chamber version of the work, and her somewhat detached delivery of the texts seemed at odds with the sincere, uninhibited voice of the teenage Anne. In fact, for me the best parts of the work were those featuring the chorus.

There also are some misleading contextual issues that at least on the surface seem unnecessary. One is the point in the score titled “Passing of time”, a quote from a diary entry in January, 1944. Here, the text simply says “The years went by. There’s a saying: ‘Time heals all wounds,’ that’s how it was for me.” From this we have no way of knowing that in her diary, what Anne was actually referring to was her experience of love for a boy, before the war, but in this context we’re led to believe that it was some vague reference to her endless days spent in the confined, oppressive world hiding in the Annexe. Later in the work, in lines quoted from February, 1944, we hear of Anne’s desire to “fulfill my longing at last…” But the important lines telling us what this longing is are omitted. We’re led to believe that it refers to something about spring, but actually she is talking about how she is “longing—really longing—for everything: conversation, freedom, friends, being alone.” She even longs—”to cry!”

Apart from these pointed reservations, I have to say that Whitbourn does a wonderful job finding musical contexts and expressive techniques to realize them. He uses his chamber instruments (violin, cello, piano, clarinet) well, sometimes calling them to create the sounds of traditional Jewish music, at others to paint a mood, whether of gloom or levity, contemplation or exuberance or apprehension. And his writing for unaccompanied voices, which constitutes a large part of the score, is superb; there are so many moments of happy inspiration throughout that you easily glide past the less shining sections.

Some of the more affecting sections come near the end of the work: the beautiful hymn-like tune on “Ich danke dir für all das Gute…” (Anne included this German text, which she said at the conclusion of her prayers each night, in the diary on March 7, 1944); the eerily captivating choral/instrumental evocation of the scene of the Annexe residents’ discovery, capture, and rude departure for Westerbork and the concentration camps (“The capture and the concentration camp”); the following a cappella chorale based on verses from the Psalms and from Lamentations.

I actually wished that the work had ended there—by now it had effectively made its point, shining its light on several of this remarkable teenage girl’s all-too-briefly lived moments of insight, despair, longing, eloquence, and most of all, of hope, doomed yet more desirable, more sustaining than the alternative. At this point, it just seemed fitting to leave us to ponder the true, harsh end, enhanced by the open, bitter chords of this chorale and the final words (“The young and the old lie on the ground; the maids and young men are fallen”, from Lamentations). However, it’s also easy to understand Whitbourn and Challenger’s decision to instead leave us with the words and image of the more positive, optimistic Anne, whose spirit rose above and outlived all the evil that surrounded her: “As long as you can look fearlessly at the sky, you’ll know you’re pure within.” These words understandably may inspire us and make us feel better (nothing wrong with that), but, as Anne’s observations should vividly remind us, we still cannot escape from who we are as humans, what we’ve done, and why these things that happened to Anne and millions of others, in one form or another, keep happening.

-- David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

In 1778, music was booming in Mannheim, thanks to its 90 players- strong orchestra’s unique blend of instrumental virtuosi and innovative composers: Johann and Carl Stamitz, father and son, the most original and prolific composers of the Mannheim school – a still somewhat underrated period. The importance of Carl Stamitz’s clarinet concertos cannot be overestimated; while laying the foundations for similar works by Mozart, Weber and Spohr, he also created inspiring masterpieces. Eduard Brunner is an ideal advocate, fusing the Mannheim idiom with modern sensitivity.