Doing my usual bit of online research for re-released recordings, I found these CDs in their former incarnation as credited to the ‘Orchestra of the Old Fairfield Academy’. This band was founded in 1985 by Thomas Crawford, and changed its name to the American Classical Orchestra in 1999. Formed from leading period instrument performers in the New York metropolitan area this is a highly regarded orchestra, and positive commentary on these concerto recordings reflects the excellent quality which you can expect throughout this usefully packaged set. All but one of the wind soloists are members of the orchestra, and very good they are too.

This is a period instrument orchestra, so the sound is accordingly fairly gentle, though by no means hair-shirt. The upper strings are perhaps a little thinner than with a conventional modern orchestra, but with what sounds like gut strings and a minimal use of vibrato this is to be expected. In fact the sound is nicely rounded, almost sumptuous at times, and by no means cold. All of the orchestral instruments are listed at the back of the booklet, with makers’ names both modern and ancient, the modern instruments being replicas of early examples.

Eric Hoeprich is the only soloist not listed as an orchestral member, and indeed, I see him often enough wandering around the Royal Conservatoire in The Hague in his capacity as teacher, so this is no surprise. Far from saving the best until last, CD 1 of this set has some of the finest performances here, and the warm tones of Hoeprich’s basset horn or basset clarinet make for a lovely opening. The Clarinet Concerto in A major, K622 is one of Mozart’s late masterpieces – indeed his last major work, and is given a supremely sensitive if un-extrovert performance on this recording. The choice for using a basset horn is based on the instrument owned by the work’s dedicatee, Anton Stadler. This instrument has a lower range than a conventional clarinet, and the version here uses fairly recently discovered historical references to create as accurate as possible a reproduction of Stadler’s solo, right down to the creation of a new instrument replicating that shown in an engraving from a concert programme from 1794. The extra low sonorities do indeed make for an extra layer of sonority and richness which can be quite unexpected. Either way, it is a recording to cherish as well as one to put alongside old favourites for comparison.

From last to first, the Bassoon Concerto in B flat major K191 was Mozart’s first wind concerto, and despite inhabiting the gallant style of composers senior to Mozart the work is ambitious and technically demanding to soloists even today. Denis Godburn’s instrument has a soft and rounded tone whose warmth is both attractive and distinctive, and the recording is mercifully free of key rattle. Oboe soloist Marc Schachman wrote the booklet notes for this first disc, and he goes into some detail on the origins of the Oboe Concerto in C major K314, which we also hear on disc 2 in a version for flute. Historical mystery and obscurity aside, this is yet another excellent performance, with perhaps only an over-long cadenza to momentarily knock the some of the pace and energy from the first movement. The period oboe has a slightly broader, less sinewy resonance than the modern instrument, and this milder tone again makes for an attractive listen.

CD 2 is given over entirely to the flute concertos, of which the Flute Concerto in G major, K313 is arguably the finest. Sandra Miller plays a traverso flute from the period, which has a tone more akin to a recorder than the modern power-flutes we hear in orchestras these days. Unlike a recorder however, the horizontal blowing hole allows for greater flexibility of dynamics, colour and tuning, and Miller’s nicely centred tone rings out over the orchestra with fine projection and excellent intonation, making one wonder why Mozart had such an apparent loathing for the things. The Adagio non troppo central movement is a particular treat, the solo line topping the string texture while also being enveloped in it in a friendly meeting of musical lines and textures. As previously mentioned, the Flute Concerto in D major K314 is a fairly straight transposition of the Oboe Concerto in C major, if anything being given even more lightness and bounce in the flute version of the opening Allegro aperto. Indeed, the flute version shaves nearly two minutes from the oboe version, though this is partly down to cadenzas, all written or improvised by the soloists on these recordings. The Concerto for Flute and Harp K299 is justly popular, though I am sure this has as much to do with the wonderful sonorities created by this combination of instruments as with the actual musical material. Once again the soloists are beautifully balanced in the recording, and well matched even though there are no surviving usable pedal harps from Mozart’s time. The instrument used here must come close to what he would have expected to hear, with a marvellous transparency and gentle articulation and resonance played with fine musicality by Victoria Drake.

CD 3 covers pretty much all of Mozart’s surviving work for horn and orchestra. As far as absolute completeness goes we only appear to be missing the fragment left of a Horn Concerto K494a, and for that matter the Andante for flute and orchestra K315, but this is of little importance. What we do have are some useful notes by Robert D. Levin, which explains which works were written for whom, and how the score of K370b came to be re-united with itself after having been cut into pieces by Mozart’s son Carl. These performances on a natural horn do not bear comparison with the famous recordings made by the more beefy tones of legendary valve instrument players such as Dennis Brain or Alan Civil. The best period recordings I know are those of Anthony Halstead with Christopher Hogwood on Decca, which are admittedly more lively and characterful than these. R.J. Kelly’s tone is nicely rounded, and as to be expected from a well behaved classical natural horn, fairly restrained. The recording seems to emphasise the ‘damped’ nature of the instrument however, and there isn’t a great deal of contrast in the tone from one phrase or movement to the next. The famous quartet of concertos is K412, K417, K447 and K495, in addition to which we are given a version of a Horn Concerto in E flat major K370b/371 completed by Robert D. Levin in 1993. This was in the process of re-arrangement after Mozart had discovered that his soloist, Joseph Leutgeb, was unable to play the lowest notes at the grand age of 59 due to his loss of teeth. Levin has sorted out the confusion brought about by work done on the piece by Franz Xaver Süssmayr after Mozart’s death, and in any case restored the Mozart’s original intentions, “today’s hornist [not being] bound by Leutgeb’s lack of teeth.” The final track on the CD is the original conception of the Rondo K412, with the addition of faux-operatic vocalisations by Eric Dillner, expounding Mozart’s ‘sardonic dialogue’ as directed at Leutgeb, annotated throughout the score. This bit of fun is of little more than novelty value, and thank goodness the text is given with translation in the booklet. That Mozart, he was a naughty boy...

With technical assuredness and musical sensitivity from a fine set of period music specialist soloists this has to be pretty much the top of the heap when it comes to an authentic/historically informed collection of Mozart’s complete wind concertos. I’ve done a trawl for significant competition, but none of the ‘complete’ sets available seem to be on original instruments. Individual CDs can be found which do provide more impact from the music, and for those willing to spend a little more and do some searching around the Decca/L’Oiseau Lyre Academy of Ancient Music directed by Christopher Hogwood do ultimately provide more satisfaction and depth of quality in general, though these American competitors do come very close indeed. There are one or two moments of very minor orchestral scrappiness in some of the accompaniments with the American Chamber Orchestra, but nothing which will offend even professionally tuned ears too much. The horn concertos are perhaps the least inspiring of the set and more serviceable than magical, but with plenty of scholarly work invested in the preparation of all of these performances there is always plenty of fascination in hearing what must be close to what Mozart’s audiences should have heard at the time.

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

Galuppi is an original and Napoli's performance makes this a good choice for connoisseurs of 18th century keyboard music.

Galuppi is an original and Napoli's performance makes this a good choice for connoisseurs of 18th century keyboard music.

Though Baldassare Galuppi is rightly famed for his huge contribution to opera buffa, he was also a prolific and popular composer of keyboard music, particularly sonatas. When British pianist Peter Seivewright released on the Divine Art label a programme of Galuppi's keyboard sonatas in 1999 it was the first volume in a projected complete set running to ten discs and 90 sonatas. So far, and possibly because of ill health (see footnote), Seivewright appears to have got no further than volume 3 but in the last decade more sonatas have been unearthed, and there are now known to be over 130. This is the first Naxos CD devoted to Galuppi's music, and volume 1 of his keyboard sonatas. Volume 2 has not yet been released on CD, but is available as a download.

One immediate question about this recording - major or minor, depending on individual sensitivities - is the choice of a modern pianoforte (Steinway D). There will doubtless be many who feel that Galuppi's sonatas belong on a period instrument - whether harpsichord or fortepiano. The sonorities, slender textures and delicate ornamentations of his alternately late-Baroque and forward-looking pre-Galant music are sometimes partially lost in the lush, deep sound of Napoli's piano. Nevertheless, within these self-imposed limitations, Napoli's performance here is creditable - plenty of sensitivity, no misplaced showmanship.

There is no question, however, about Galuppi's masterly, mellifluous musicianship. Sonata after sonata is packed with beautiful melody and fluent invention, and it comes as no surprise that it was not only his opera music that was in great demand. But though Galuppi was himself a keyboard virtuoso, this is idiomatic music written with an eye on, or an ear to, the amateur player - it is varied, beautiful and rewarding, without being technically overwhelming.

Often the music is quite reminiscent of Domenico Scarlatti - the outer movements of the superbly imaginative Sonata in D, for example (incidentally incorrectly catalogued by Hedda Illy in E), or the ebullient two-and-a-half minute, one-movement Sonata in C, Illy 98. There are also reverberations of C.P.E. Bach, as in the refined Sonata in F and the thoughtful Sonata in F minor, and even of J.S. Bach, as in the Sonata in G.

But Galuppi is an original, without doubt, and Napoli's performance makes this altogether a good choice for connoisseurs of 18th century keyboard music, particularly those for whom the idiosyncratic colour of the harpsichord or fortepiano holds little attraction.

Sound quality is generally high, although the Sonata in C, Illy 57 does have a couple of minor imperfections that sound suspiciously like edit joins.

-- Byzantion, MusicWeb International Footnote The reviewer refers to Peter Seivewright’s ongoing series having halted at volume 3 ‘possibly due to ill health’. I want to point out for the benefit of potential customers (and the music industry) that Peter is very well indeed – he did in fact undergo surgery not too long ago but is doing very well; his projects (which include several CDs of Bach, a Reger disc and a series of American Piano Sonatas, have also been held up due to his work commitments – he moved from Scotland to help set up and manage the new Department of Music at the University of Trinidad and Tobago. His fourth volume of Galuppi has been recorded and will appear in due course, hopefully with the other projected volumes to follow a little more quickly than heretofore. Stephen Sutton (Divine Art)

Wilhelm Backhaus realized the significance of the gramophone record early on, making his first solo recording in 1908 and going on to record many more, each tantamount to a live performance. These recordings, offered up here, represent the earliest ever recordings of works by composers like Mozart, Strauss, Chopin, Brahms, and Liszt.

Overall, I’d certainly strongly endorse the complete Nimbus set for reliable performances.

The arrival on the scene of a bright new talent in the Beethoven Piano Sonatas in the form of the young Korean pianist HJ Lim (EMI Classics 50999 7041855 2) has prompted me to return to the Nimbus set. The virtues of complete sets by the likes of Alfred Brendel (Philips 438 1342 – see June 2011/2 Download Roundup) and Wilhelm Kempff (DG – see below) are well enough known but, for some reason, we seem never to have got around to reviewing the Nimbus set with Bernard Roberts. Not the least of its virtues is that, with some ingenious organisation, the CD set is far less bulky than you might imagine: the 11 CDs come in two double-size cases, holding five discs plus booklet and six discs respectively, all housed inside a cardboard slip case.
 
I actually started to write a review of the complete Nimbus set a year ago, and lost what I’d written, apart from some notes and jottings, when my computer crashed. I was able to piece some of these together in time for the November 2011/2 Download Roundup, but fortunately, when I lost what I’d written, my friend Geoffrey Molyneux, who knows a great deal more about pianism than I ever did and has owned the Nimbus set for some time, came to the rescue. I promised then to patch my notes back together to finish that review but got around only partially to doing it.
 
Whereas Roberts’ recordings arose from mature consideration, HJ Lim has committed the whole œuvre to disc at an early stage in her career, whether from brave assurance or youthful bravado I was very interested to find out. You can do so for yourself from the Naxos Music Library if you have access to that extremely valuable service. They offer both the first two 2-CD single volumes and the complete set. As they also have the Roberts recordings, that’s a good way to compare for yourself.
 
Volume 1 from Lim contains Sonatas 29 Hammerklavier, 11, 26 Les Adieux, 4, 9, 10, 13 Quasi una fantasia and 14 Moonlight ( 730092, 2 CDs for around £12.50). The complete set (omitting the Op.49 sonatas because Beethoven didn’t intend them for publication) comes on 8 CDs for around £40 ( 4649522). Those willing to download can obtain Volume 1 for £6.99 from sainsburysentertainment.co.uk. They also have the complete 8-CD set to download for £10.99, though you may prefer to obtain this from amazon.co.uk for £12.99, complete with the pdf version of the booklet.
 
Lim opens both Volume 1 and the complete set with the Hammerklavier Sonata. She takes the first movement at a cracking pace – 10:24 against Roberts’ 11:42, making her performance commensurate with Earl Wild, at 10:20 one of the fastest ever accounts (Ivory Classics 76001). I was impressed by her technique; it makes a barnstorming opening to the set, but it’s all a bit too much unvaried and ‘hell-for-leather’; at his slightly slower tempo Roberts achieves much more light and shade in this movement and throughout the work, not least in his reading of the slow movement, where his 17:58 allows him to achieve Innigkeit without sounding portentous. At 12:50 Lim is certainly appassionato; she doesn’t sound as rushed as I might have expected from the different timings, but she doesn’t quite achieve the affective quality demanded by the marking con molto sentimento.
 
Artur Schnabel’s recording of this sonata may come on an album subtitled ‘Scholar of the Piano’ (EMI Icons 2650642) but there’s much more than scholarship involved in his performance. This remains my benchmark, especially for the slow movement: his tempo almost exactly matches that of Roberts, but he captures the affective qualities even more without ever sounding ponderous. His recording comes with a degree of light surface noise, but it’s never excessive and the piano tone is truly remarkable for its age. Nevertheless, Roberts offers a better-recorded modern alternative that I can certainly live with.
 
I should add that reviewers have been very much divided about Lim’s performances; some have seen a great deal more of value in them than I have. In the finale of the Hammerklavier I hear some of the qualities that her admirers postulate – she’s actually very little faster overall than Schnabel and her playing is certainly risoluto – but my own ultimate judgement hinges on whether I would wish to add her complete recording or Volume 1 to my over-crowded collection. I have to say that I wouldn’t, even at the attractive prices that I’ve mentioned.
 
On the other hand, I would certainly have considered purchasing the Roberts set, especially at the special price of £28 post free for which it’s offered by MusicWeb International. You won’t even find them as a download for less. I know that I’m effectively blowing our own trumpet, but I dipped into sonatas from every period of Beethoven’s working life, comparing what I heard with other versions that I knew, and found that Roberts stood up well to the competition in every respect. He is not always top dog in a particular sonata, but nearly always close. The whole set is so inexpensive that I would recommend beginners to buy it and to add individual recordings later.
 
CD 1 of the Nimbus set gets off to a quiet start with Sonata No.1 from 1795. Though there are signs of the distinctive Beethoven manner to come here, Roberts doesn’t stress these by over-egging the pudding; he gives a very satisfying, neat, tidy, but not too delicate account, taken at a fairly brisk pace throughout, though never sounding rushed. The same is true of No.2 and No.3, which open CD 2 and CD 3 respectively.
 
You might expect Lim to do particularly well in these youthful sonatas, so I turned to her account of No.1 in expectation. Predictably her tempi are consistently a little faster than Roberts’, but not to a huge extent. There’s certainly lightness of touch but it’s allied with underlying strength and I enjoyed this performance.
 
Nimbus CD 1 closes with the Appassionata Sonata, from Beethoven’s middle period. Roberts gives this, right from the start, the soulful treatment which its name implies. In the opening movement he takes Beethoven’s marking allegro assai with a pinch of salt, perhaps thinking, as I have seen suggested, that Beethoven sometimes confused the French assez (fairly) and the Italian assai (very). Whatever the reason, 10:13 – almost a minute longer than most performances – seems to me to be reasonable for this movement, especially as Roberts indulges in a degree of rubato (not excessive) to achieve it. I’m with Roberts and his slightly weightier tempo here, but if you are looking for a compromise, Jenö Jandó on Naxos (8.550294, with No.21 and No.23) – as usual reliable without being exceptional – splits the difference between Roberts and the ‘mainstream’, as does Alfred Brendel on his early Vox recording (CDX-5042, 2 CDs: Nos.16-19, 21-23 and 26 – or Alto ALC1016, Nos.8, 14, 23 and 26). In his recording of the Appassionata with the Emperor Concerto (Philips 468 6662, with VPO/Rattle), Brendel is even closer to Roberts in this movement.
 
There’s respect for the marking andante con moto, too, from Roberts in the second movement, though I might have welcomed a slightly faster pace at the outset. In the finale he observes both parts of the marking ( allegro non troppo), so there’s nothing headlong, but there is plenty of power and emotion and the concluding bars are taken at a virtuoso pace. Overall I found this a very satisfying account, bringing a degree of new light to a well-known work without being at all quirky. Listening to it a second time was even more convincing.
 
Predictably, Lim allies herself throughout with those who take a faster view of this sonata, though her tempi are not extreme she actually takes the opening movement slightly slower than Angela Hewitt on the first volume of her Beethoven recordings. Lim takes the finale at quite a lick but so, for example, does Vladimir Ashkenazy (Decca Eloquence 480 1309). Though her version certainly works for me, so too does Roberts’.
 
If HJ Lim has set her interpretations down at an early stage in her career, David Wilde is something of a wonder for the opposite reason – though well into his seventies, he’s only just entered the limelight, yet he plays with a combination of the technique of a young virtuoso and the maturity of a seasoned practitioner on his recording of Nos. 21 Waldstein, 17 Tempest and 31 (Delphian DCD34090: Recording of the Month and November 2011/2 Download Roundup.)
 
The d minor Sonata, Op.31/2, the Tempest, dates from the transitional period between the earliest works, such as the Op.18 Quartets, and the very productive middle period. This was the period of the Third Piano Concerto when Beethoven’s music was beginning to break away from the influence of the previous generation of Haydn and Salieri. Wilde takes a more expansive view of the first movement, adopts roughly the same tempo as Roberts for the adagio, and is slightly faster in the allegretto finale. I thought Roberts somewhat routine in this sonata, especially in the adagio, which sounds ponderous rather than affective.
 
I certainly preferred Wilde in the finale, though Brian Reinhart, for all his admiration of the album as a whole, had some reservations here. Roberts’ finale offers us the letter of the music with exemplary technique, but it seems to miss the last degree of joy. I appreciate that it’s allegretto, not allegro, but I felt that Wilde’s 7:05 was more in the spirit of the music than Roberts’s 7:26. The latter seems to offer a view of a composer who is not yet completely his own man, not yet what Roberts himself describes in the brief notes as ‘dynamic, deeply expressive and visionary’. Lim rattles through this movement at an unbelievable 6:01; that’s preferable to Roberts and I can only marvel that none of the phrasing is slurred at this speed, but Wilde’s is the version of this sonata to have.
 
Though my recommendation of the Nimbus set overall holds, therefore, this illustrates the hazards of relying on just one artist throughout; for this sonata I’d certainly add another version. Though I listened to Roberts on CD and to Wilde from an mp3 download (albeit at the full 320kb/s rate, from classicsonline.com), which ought to give Roberts an edge, Wilde sounded more dynamic from the very opening of the first movement, the slow movement a little more expressive and the finale a little more joyful. Both Wilde and Roberts are preferable here to Thomas Sauer, whose recording of the Op.31 Sonatas I found somewhat wanting (MSR Classics MS1284).
 
David Wilde offers the middle-period Waldstein Sonata, No.21 on his new recording, one of the works also available separately from Nimbus. Wilde, who takes both sections very slightly faster than Roberts, is closer to the general consensus and on the whole slightly preferable. This time I think the contest between the two pianists a little less weighted in Wilde’s favour, though generally agreeing with Brian Reinhart, who thought this probably the highlight of the disc.
 
Lim plays the Waldstein on the second disc of Volume 2 – CD4 of the complete set. Here again, the tempo of the first movement is too hectic: at 9:58 against Wilde’s 10:48 and Roberts’s 11:05, the music doesn’t have time to breathe. The same is true of the Introduzione, here tracked as a separate movement, as on the Wilde recording. The final Rondo is a real tour de force combined with real delicacy in the slower sections, though the transition between the two can sound a little abrupt and brutal.
 
BR was slightly less impressed by Wilde’s take on the late sonata, Op.110. These late works are as difficult to bring off as the Late String Quartets with which they are contemporaneous; both perplexed Beethoven’s audiences and both can provide difficult listening even for modern ears.
 
There’s one set of the late sonatas that remains my benchmark: Wilhelm Kempff on DG E453 0102, an inexpensive 2-disc set of Nos. 27-32 from his 1960s stereo recordings. I didn’t consult him in the case of the Hammerklavier for fear of seeming to be unduly influenced by nostalgia, but I can’t resist calling Kempff into comparison for No.31, Op.110. Jens Laurson, writing about Kempff’s recordings in a survey of what was available at the time (2009) finds it hard to pin down exactly what it is that makes Kempff’s Beethoven so superb. Overall I can’t better his summing up – ‘Solid, in the best, most empathetically positive sense of the word.’
 
Kempff and Roberts adopt almost exactly the same tempo in each of the opening movements of Op.110, with Wilde just a little slower than either. All three combine the cantabile and molto espressivo aspects of the first movement very well. Wilde is a little faster in the adagio and fuga but, again, there’s very little in it. Kempff, on whose recording DG run these last two sections together, takes just 9:44 overall against Roberts’ 11:24 and Wilde’s 11:15. Both sections from Kempff are faster: his adagio is certainly more non troppo than from Roberts or Wilde, without losing any of its emotive power, and his fugue is certainly allegro without losing sight of the non troppo marking and without sounding hurried. As good as Roberts and Wilde are here, I’d certainly also want Kempff’s recording as an alternative.
 
Lim is even faster in the adagio and fuga – tracked together on her recording, as with Kempff, and coming in at just 8:34. She starts the adagio portentously and she’s generally both affective and effective in this section; by the clock she’s the fastest of all the recordings that I compared without seeming unduly hasty. Indeed, though she’s a minute faster overall even than Kempff, I enjoyed her take on this sonata more than I had expected.
 
Lim ends volume 1 with the Moonlight Sonata. In the first movement she’s notably faster than Roberts and at least some of the magic is lost thereby; a good deal less than you might imagine from the comparative timings, but Roberts captures the fantasia and allows us much better to see that the nickname is apt. I didn’t enjoy Lim’s tentative account of the second movement; it’s as if she were thinking out her approach on the spot where Roberts knows where he’s going from the start. Lim’s finale is sufficiently agitato but here again there’s too much of a scrabble, even at a basic tempo not much faster than that of Roberts, and I thought her less than fully involved with the music.
 
One advantage of the Delphian recording concerns the inclusion of Wilde’s own notes, which are informative not only about the music but also about some of his decisions in performance. Even at the extremely advantageous price, I could have wished that Nimbus had also offered more detailed notes; you get just the playing times plus two pages on the music and a page on Bernard Roberts. If you purchase the Lim complete recording as a download from amazon.co.uk, the booklet of notes comes as part of the deal; I haven’t seen this, but I understand that some of HJ Lim’s thoughts are a little bizarre.
 
Overall, then, I’d certainly strongly endorse the complete Nimbus set for reliable performances – often much than that – a decent quality of recording and sheer value. I’d want to supplement it with individual recordings from some of the artists whom I’ve mentioned. Regrettably, despite their availability at a most advantageous price, neither of the individual twofers from HJ Lim’s new recordings nor her complete set would be among them. Give her Beethoven a few years to settle down and a complete set from her may well be well worth hearing. Meanwhile, if you’re looking to supplement Roberts with performances from a young pianist on top form, try Ingrid Fliter in Nos. 8 Pathétique, 17 and 23 Appassionata (EMI 045732: Bargain of the Month and September 2011/2 Download Roundup).
 
-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International

Giuseppe Tartini was born in Pirano d’Istria in 1692 but spent the majority of his life in Padua. He was not a lover of fame: indeed, it took Padre Martini a great deal of time and convincing before managing to obtain a portrait of Tartini for his private collection (this original portrait, painted by Vincenzo Rota, is the only one we have today). Despite all this, however, young musicians arrived from all over Europe to study with this musician who, essentially self-taught, had dedicated his life to perfecting the violin from both a technical and theoretical standpoint. In the not insignificant output of this “Master of Nations” (as he was called), the violin predominates, for Tartini composed few works other than the concertos and sonatas dedicated to this noble instrument. The justification for this choice may be found in his theoretical writings, which represented for the eighteenth century a new moment of discovery and evolution. Implored by many to compose for the opera in Venice, he responded that “a throat is not a neck of a violin,” and this comment was followed by a strong criticism of Vivaldi, who instead tried his hand at virtually every genre. This album features the concertos for flute, for strings, and various sonatas including the famous “Trillo del Diavolo.” The two soloists Massimo Mercelli and Marco Rogliano are accompanied by the Ensemble Respighi from Bologna.