PERRY Jamestown Concerto. SCHUMAN A Song of Orpheus. THOMSON Cello Concerto • Yehuda Hanani (vc); William Eddins, cond; RTÉ Natl SO • NAXOS 8.559344 (72:09)

And here is another side of William Perry. The Jamestown Concerto (2006) begins with a beautiful solo cello segment that sits halfway between solo cadenza and folkish musing, described as a “cello overture” in Douglas Bruce’s notes. Written to celebrate the 400th anniversary of the first permanent colony in America in Jamestown, Virginia (1607), it is a poignant work that integrates Perry’s trademark filmic qualities into a concert framework. It also includes musical material derived from a madrigal published in 1501 by John Milton (father of the poet). There is a detailed program (trumpets in the second movement, “Settlement Along the River,” announce the arrival of Captain John Smith to quell an uprising, for example), but it is one that strikes me as optional. Yehuda Hanani is a most eloquent soloist. My colleague Lynn René Bayley found this work rather wanting in her review ( Fanfare 32:3). I find the work’s almost childlike sense of wonder and its clear impression of ongoing narrative, beautifully scored, rather compelling. The playful “Pocahontas in London” fourth movement is enchanting; the fifth bustles while faithfully evoking time and place. Skillful, eminently musical, and poignant pretty much sum up this piece.

Good to see William Schuman’s music here, too. The rest of the music will get less of a say on the grounds that it appears in the context of an article on Perry, but it is good to hear Schuman’s A Song of Orpheus (premiered 1962), especially prefaced by a reading (by Jane Alexander) of Shakespeare’s “Orpheus with his Lute.” I agree with Bayley on every count here (except that I actually do like the idea of the reading of the poem). Superbly atmospheric music, yet at the same time sophisticated, especially in harmonic terms. Finally, Virgil Thomson’s Cello Concerto, a remarkably strong and powerful work, is given a proud and muscular account here by Hanani (which is not to underplay Hanani’s deftness in the finale).

The placing of Perry here is important. He justly takes his place with two giants of American music.

FANFARE: Colin Clarke

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PERRY Jamestown Concerto. SCHUMAN A Song of Orpheus. 1 THOMSON Cello Concerto • Yehuda Hanani (vc); William Eddins, cond; Jane Alexander (spkr); 1 RTÉ Natl SO • NAXOS 8.559344 (72:10 Text and Translation)

These three works, tied by their American heritage and syntax, though not entirely by subject matter—the Schuman is, after all, based on verses by Shakespeare—are given intelligent, sensitive, highly musical performances by renowned cellist Yehuda Hanani, conductor Eddins, and the RTÉ National Symphony Orchestra of Ireland. The only things they really lack are a more clearly focused sound and a bit more excitement.

William Perry’s concerto is the newest, written in 2006 and premiered in January 2007 by Hanani with the Musica Nova Orchestra in Scottsdale, Arizona. It is also, alas, the weakest. There are some splendid moments in all five movements, depicting the embarkation of the Virginia Company from London in 1606, settlements along the James River (including the introduction of Pocahontas), harsh winters of the colony, Pocahontas in London, and Jamestown 400 years later on; yet in each of these movements the music either began or deteriorated in interest for me, evidencing a style I would charitably describe as populist tonal banality. I don’t know if Perry purposely chose this route or if inspiration failed to connect the more imaginative sequences of his work (the third movement, the opening of the first, and the closing pages of the second), but for all its workmanlike qualities I felt it failed to gel.

Also, perhaps, the populist feel of this concerto was too much in contrast to the more serious and imaginative Song of Orpheus by Schuman. I’d almost forgotten what a truly splendid composer he was! None of this music is unattractive, yet none of it can be called easy listening. Not a note or phrase seems banal, prolonged, or unnecessary. Though perhaps more carefully crafted than written in a flash of insight, this concerto was nevertheless finished in only 11 months, premiered by the excellent American cellist Leonard Rose in 1962. The music is very close in concept to Berlioz’s longer and more familiar Harold in Italy , employing long stretches where the orchestra takes the lead and the cello amiably adds its commentary. Schuman wanted Shakespeare’s poem to be either printed in the concert program or recited from the stage. Of course, the brief text is included in the liner notes, but Naxos felt a need to hire actress Jane Alexander to recite the poem anyway. It’s a nice touch but, to me, an unnecessary extravagance.

I found Thomson’s Concerto (sometimes subtitled “Rider on the Plains”) to be perhaps the crown jewel of this collection. Quite in contrast to both the populist (but not popular ) style of his film scores, which I feel are the finest ever written by an American, or the rhythmically dense, polyphonic style of his operas, the concerto strode a peculiar middle ground. Charming if not-quite-catchy melodies based on hymns, circle game tunes, and even a snippet from Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 6 were seamlessly woven into a rich tapestry. The cello definitely takes center stage here, with some of the most extraordinary and complex music Thomson ever wrote. At one point he even sends it flying up into the violin range, much like Chopin’s Introduction and Polonaise for cello but for a much longer period of time. Hanani, great virtuoso that he is, handles this with astounding aplomb if not quite the firm control of pitch that Emanuel Feuermann displayed in his Victor recording of the Chopin piece. But how many cellists are Feuermann? Answer: one. Feuermann! (It may also be of interest to note that, in this Concerto, Hanani is playing the same instrument that Paul Olefsky, principal cellist of the Philadelphia Orchestra, used in the 1950 premiere. Emmanuel Feldman also does a splendid job with this Concerto on the Albany label, but the more interesting pairing of the Schuman—not available elsewhere—makes this, for me, a more arresting disc.

This is certainly a splendid release, and should by no means be passed up, despite my few disappointments regarding sound and the Perry concerto.

FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

The competition is full-priced, from Nonesuch, and the formidable Glass-specialist and collaborator Dennis Russell Davies. On sonic grounds, I’d prefer this new Naxos disc of two symphonies from the mid 1990s. Davies is irreproachable as a Glass conductor, but in the case of these works, I find the Nonesuch recordings a touch claustrophobic, with much of the air sucked out of the acoustic. The older Glass/Naxos disc was even more successful in this regard (the Violin Concerto on 8.554568) but this is pretty good sound, captured by Tim Handley in the Concert Hall, Lighthouse, by the busy harbor at Poole in Dorset, England. The bustling, maritime setting seems to infect the music-making, especially for the rousing finale of the Second Symphony, like an Olympic yacht-race through a choppy sea on a bright, bracing morning. American symphonies used to stumble at the finale obstacle (so did symphonies everywhere) but through patient application of his familiar style, and his patented modal, orchestral dynamism, Glass whizzes around the course with no faults or penalties. This should make converts of anyone who enjoys symphonies from Bax to Bernstein.

Elsewhere, the dark and brooding moods are never overplayed or undersold by Marin Alsop. This isn’t the world’s most virtuosic band, but they rarely, and only very slightly sound strained by Glass’s high-lying violin lines. More performances from the big-name orchestras would bring a more expressive, forthright performing tradition, and maybe a faster finale for the Third. Glass’s Indian roots are often on display (there’s an Eastern cut to his thematic jib, here), but expressive results are fruitful. There are some reminders of other symphonists. In the Second it sometimes seems Alan Hovhaness, Lou Harrison, and Bill Schuman have met up for a drink with Sibelius, who is playing the Widor Toccata over there in the corner. Glass’s individual symphonism works, though, in this 43-minute piece, thanks to the skillful manipulation of orchestral contrasts as a structural device, a legacy, maybe, of his film-score experience. The Third Symphony is closer to the Glass mainstream, in four short movements for strings alone. Here, Alsop’s patient approach brings out the meaning in the music, away from the talk of polyrhythm and process. There’s fear, anxiety, and dismay (the world) behind some of those sunny repetitions, and physicality in the dance rhythms. Well-caught pizzicatos in the second movement, too, and an expressive solo display from the violin in the edgy, pulsating third section, which is a major success in this tense, sensual reading.

I wholeheartedly recommend this release (the first of a cycle, I trust), and again salute Philip Glass for doing it his way. The music deserves the widest exposure and popularity, and it deepens with acquaintance. This Naxos CD transformed my opinion of these works.

Paul Ingram, FANFARE

Philip Glass' symphonies are unique among the composer's output for their relative harmonic and thematic complexity. Listeners put off by Glass' endlessly repeated arpeggios will be relieved to find scant evidence of them in these works. Instead, like his opera Beauty and the Beast, Glass spins long melodic lines that go through many harmonic permutations before they are inevitably repeated. Thus, Symphony No. 2's first movement creates an air of expectation, something that Glass maintains through shifting instrumental timbres and stimulating dynamic contrast as the movement builds, Bolero-like, to a grand climax. After the soothing, somewhat meditative sonic environment of the slow movement, the finale breaks in with its agitated dance rhythms. This movement has the least harmonic variety of the three, and listeners unsympathetic to Glass' method may experience repetition fatigue.


Symphony No. 3 is almost radical in its use of traditional forms, including chaconne and rondo. Glass replaces the expansiveness of the earlier work with a highly concentrated thematic process that packs substantially more musical ideas into only slightly more than half the former symphony's duration. The second movement is particularly interesting, with its compound meters and hints of Bartók. Marin Alsop brings her long familiarity with the composer's music to her convincing performances of both works, although she faces strong competition in the No. 3 from Glass specialist Dennis Russell Davies, who leads a slightly more compelling rendition with the Stuttgart Chamber Orchestra. For its part, the Bournemouth Symphony plays keenly, maintaining enthusiasm and rhythmic exactitude even in the more repetitious passages. Naxos' warm and spacious recording presents the music with a compelling impact. [12/03/2004]
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

American music is culturally diverse and exciting, mirroring all the best America has to offer. The last two centuries have seen an extraordinary flowering of musical life in the United States. In recognition of the many gifted American men and women of music, Naxos is pleased to present the American Classic Series.

When complete, this series will consist of over 200 titles, exploring the full spectrum of American concert music. All the familiar names are there: Copland, Ives, Grofé, Barber, and Sousa but so are many others such as: Bennett, Dédé, Foote, McKay, and Siegmeister all of whom have contributed to the rich musical tapestry that is American.

All of us at Naxos invite you to journey with us as we set out to discover America.


Click Here for the complete Naxos American Classic Series

Winner of the coveted 2002 Grawemeyer Award and one of the youngest composers ever to be awarded the Pulitzer Prize, Aaron Jay Kernis is among the most distinguished musical figures of his generation. Conceived as a concerto for toy piano and orchestra, and with touches of Indonesian gamelan, French lyricism and jazz, Three Flavors appears here in it's final version, adapted by soloist and long- term collaborator Andrew Russo. Commissioned for renowned violinist James Ehnes, the introspective Two Movements (with Bells) is a memorial to the composer's father with echoes of blues singing and improvisatory impetuousness, while the virtuoso Superstar Etude No. 3 is his homage to Gershwin and the blues. The Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Aaron Jay Kernis (b. 1960) studied composition with American heavyweights John Adams, Jacob Druckman, Morton Subotnik and Charles Wuorinen. He has developed a truly eclectic musical language over time, initially rigorous but evolving toward a new transparency and emotional eloquence. He incorporates influences of Latin rhythms, jazz and rap into his work as willingly as the harmonic worlds of the Romantic masters, the Renaissance and Hildegard von Bingen.

More spare, yielding chamber music is found on the new Naxos disc. The 2005 Mosaic is Carter at his most inviting, in a program showing how even his minor works have a strong reason for existence. That disc comes with a bonus DVD documentary on the composer, not the best ever made, but at least providing face time with a composer who is as congenial as he is great.

FAIROUZ Tahwidah. 4 Chorale Fantasy. 2 Native Informant: Sonata for Solo Violin 3. Posh. 4 For Victims. 2,5 Jebel Lebnan 6 • 1 Mellissa Hughes (sop); 1 David Krakauer (cl); 2 Borromeo Str Qrt; 3 Rachel Barton Pine (vn); 4 Christopher Thompson (baritenor); 4 Steven Spooner (pn); 5 David Kravitz (bar); 6 Imani Winds • NAXOS 8.559744 (78:22 Text and Translation)


This exceptionally varied and complex album features five first recordings of works by young American-Arabic composer Mohammed Fairouz (b. 1985), whose Piano Sonata impressed me when I reviewed the DVD by pianist Steven Spooner. I bristled, as I always do, to read the dreaded and hackneyed words on the CD insert that Fairouz “is one of the most frequently performed, commissioned, and recorded composers of his generation ” (italics mine). Well, what the heck generation could he possibly be part of but his own? Did you expect him to be the most frequently performed and recorded composers of his father’s generation?


But promotional semantics aside, Fairouz is a remarkably talented and highly original composer—no more so than some others nowadays who, living in America, combine the music of their ethnic cultures with European and/or American classical structures, but certainly one of the most interesting and communicative of such composers, which I suppose is what moves him to the top of his profession. Certainly, any CD that displays the combined talents of such well-known and/or outstanding talents as the Borromeo Quartet, Rachel Barton Pine, Steven Spooner, and the Imani Winds—all of whom, incidentally, are on my short list of favorite performers whose recordings I try to seek out for review—is testimony enough to the high quality of Fairouz’s music.


We begin this journey with Tahwidah, the setting of a poem by Mahmoud Darwish for soprano and clarinet. The text—which, surprisingly, is actually included in the booklet (along with all the other sung texts on this disc)—concerns the lullaby of a mother to her son, only to discover at the end that she is singing this at his funeral. The music is thus lyrical but strangely dissonant, beginning with exotic and difficult runs and trills on the clarinet, into which the soprano voice intermixes in a surprising and interesting fashion. Thank heavens, Mellissa Hughes has a pure, radiant voice, devoid of unsteadiness or wobble, and her singing is extraordinarily well phrased and emotionally moving. As in the case of so many modern-day sopranos, however, her English diction is exceedingly poor. Without the text to follow, you won’t be able to make out a single word. A small but important criticism, not meant in a mean-spirited way, but Mellissa, please work on your diction!


This is followed by Chorale Fantasy, which the composer describes as a song that combines the Arabic mode maqam “with gentle counterpoint,” leading from a songlike melody to a whirling dance. It was commissioned by the Borromeo Quartet, which plays it here. Perhaps not so curiously, the Solo Violin Sonata—commissioned by and played by Rachel Barton Pine—almost sounds, in its first movement, like an extension of the quartet, so lyrical and songlike is its melodic structure.


I was stunned here by the extraordinary range of colors that Pine extracts from her instrument, ranging from bright, sharply pointed passages reminiscent of Heifetz to warm, rich playing in the mid and lower ranges that sounded like Oistrakh. The second movement, “Rounds,” is a vigorous Arabic round dance (as per the composer’s notes), played with tremendous passion and energy, following which is a lament for the civilian victims of the Egyptian Revolution. This movement, which begins and ends very high up in the violin’s range, moves down to mid-range chordal passages which later incorporate microtonal slides (probably Arabic influenced) and, as in so much of Fairouz’s music, an exceptional singing quality that I feel is related to the song tradition of such composers as Ned Rorem. The composer describes the fourth movement as “just plain fun,” based on “the retro spirit of New York’s cabaret music,” supposedly emulating Gershwin and Porter, but I heard this music as oddly related to Eastern European folk-dance music and Eastern European-American forms, yet with an Arabic accent. At one point, Pine is required to play pizzicato counterpoint to her own top line on the violin. The final movement, which combines the feeling of both a lullaby and a lament, is titled “Lullaby of the ex-Soldat.” Fairouz says that he also conceived this movement as a tribute to Pine’s baby daughter Sylvia Michelle as a “celebration of birth and renewal.” With the possible exception of the first movement, I’d say that Fairouz has accomplished a Herculean task here, writing a sonata for unaccompanied violin that doesn’t owe much to the solo violin sonatas and partitas of Bach. I can only hope that it becomes a staple of the violin repertoire. This is, by the way, also the longest work on this disc.


Following this is Posh, a short song cycle (three pieces totaling 8:22) based on poems by Wayne Koestenbaum. These poems are not intended to “tell a story,” but merely to give an indication of a life: one song (poem) of a baby and his inability to cope with life without help, of “deadbeat dads” and dreams of the future; the second of a hapless adolescent searching for Ned Rorem songs; and third of an adult whose father “brings to mind the self-slaughtered Walter Benjamin.” This cycle is sung by “baritenor” Christopher Thompson, who has an unusual velvety timbre and, yes, qualities of both baritone and tenor. His diction is also superb, in sharp contrast to Hughes, and in the second song he makes one smile with his unusual way of bringing humor out when he sings. As usual, Spooner’s playing is also excellent, albeit subdued in this particular role as accompanist. Fairouz’s scoring for the piano here is primarily that of gently rocking notes and/or soft chime chords.


For Victims is described as “a dramatic scene for baritone and string quartet” based on two poems of David Shapiro, but although there are two movements only the second includes the sung poems. Here the Borromeo Quartet plays with a sense of sadness combined with drama, the music in the first movement vacillating between Eastern and Western modes, occasionally juxtaposing themes rather than engaging in actual development. As it turns out Shapiro’s poems, like many similar works, are about the Holocaust, the first a memorial to its victims and the second a personal memory of his grandfather emerging “in a synagogue” with his “sweet tenor coloratura” while he wonders if the dead are “permitted to sing.” Here the quartet’s role is more subdued and subservient to the vocal line. Baritone David Kravitz, unfortunately, has a woofy and tremulous voice, and his diction is only occasionally clear, which is very unfortunate as the music is exceptionally interesting and well written.


The last work, Jebel Lebnan, translates as Mount Lebanon, and is a lament for the lives lost at the massacres at the Sabra and Shatilla Refugee Camps caused by Phalange Party chief Bashir Gemayel. An interlude for flute is followed by a funeral march entitled “Ariel’s Song,” then a “reawakening” musically described by a celebratory dance to the resilience of the Lebanese people. The final movement, “Mar Charbel’s Dabkeh,” is yet another Arabic round dance. Since I am a huge fan of the Imani Winds, perhaps I am prejudiced in favor of nearly all their performances, which I always find to be rhythmically incisive, colorful in their manipulation of timbre and accent, and emotionally involved in every respect, thus I was immediately rapt by their extraordinary treatment of the opening passage, described by the composer as “a wild scream” for clarinet and piccolo. The music here, punctuated by interjections from the horn and clarinet, is continually underscored by a staccato ostinato figure played by the bassoon. The solo flute interlude is lyrical, yet with telling pauses in the musical line possibly indicating thought or meditation on the part of the flutist. It has a particularly forlorn sound that, to me, indicates such emotions. Interestingly, the solo bassoon line which opens “Ariel’s Song” sounds like a continuation of the flute lament. The other instruments of the quintet enter and exit, either singly or in pairs, but the bassoon generally dominates this lament. (I would also like to point out, for the benefit of those who don’t know, that the Imani Winds are four-fifths women musicians, which I believe is somewhat unique in the classical world.) The dance movement, surprisingly, also starts out slowly, only gradually increasing the tempo within the first dozen or so bars. It’s a cheerful little piece but not terribly uptempo—more of a relaxed dance than a frenetic one. After a short pause in the middle, Fairouz switches gears to his “little song,” which is more meditative and reflective than celebratory. This, in turn, leads into the “Dabkeh” or round dance, which begins with meditative passages played by the flute but then moves into a very sprightly dance rhythm. An Arabic round dance this may indeed be, but to my ears it has a great similarity to a horah!


Despite my small reservations on the diction of two of the singers and the singing voice of a third, I consider this one of the most interesting, varied, and engaging classical albums of the year so far, and one I shall undoubtedly be putting on my Want List.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

This album from Naxos' acclaimed Wind Band Classics series presents three highly contrasting new works. David Maslanka' Concerto for Trombone and Wind Ensemble is a heartfelt memorial to the late Christine Nield Capote, flutist, teacher and friend.

Sergey Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet was completed after the composer's final repatriation to Soviet Russia after a period abroad. It was written for the Kirov Ballet but early productions faltered, and Prokofiev soon adapted his music to the concert hall. The Suites avoid narrative sequence, selecting crucial moments such as the famous "balcony scene", and dramatic climaxes such as the Death of Tybalt. Composed to celebrate the famous author's 150th anniversary, the Pushkin Waltzes are relaxed, easygoing, and with a typically witty edge.

FLAGELLO Symphony No. 2, “Symphony of the Winds” 1. Concerto Sinfonico (trans. Merlin Patterson). 1,2 Odyssey 1. Valse Noire (trans. Walter Simmons) 2. ROSNER Symphony No. 8, “Trinity” 1 • 1 David Bertman, cond; 1 University of Houston Wind Ens; 2 University of Houston Sax Qrt • NAXOS 8.573060 (74:37)


The first thing regular readers will notice about this release is a heavy Fanfare presence. Our longtime reviewer Walter Simmons transcribed Flagello’s Valse Noire for saxophone quartet; that haunting, minor-key waltz was originally composed in 1964 for accordion. A more recent contributor, Merlin Patterson, transcribed Flagello’s Concerto Sinfonico (a concerto for saxophone quartet and orchestra) for symphonic band. The disc was produced by Merlin Patterson, with Walter Simmons as executive producer. Also, Fanfare reviewer Carson Cooman contributed to the digital editing of the recording. Under the circumstances it would be difficult for me to give this release a bad review; luckily, there is no need. The music is first-rate and the performances are excellent.


The second of Nicolas Flagello’s two symphonies was written for wind band in 1970 but did not receive its first public performance until nine years later. This kind of lengthy delay was typical during the final stages of the composer’s career, when his music was considered unfashionably romantic—if it was considered at all. The three movements’ subtitles convey the overall mood: The first is “The Torrid Winds of Veiled Portents,” the second, “Dark Winds of Lonely Contemplation,” and the third, a fugue, is called “The Winds of Re-birth and Vitality.” Like all of the composer’s works that I have heard, it is what I would call “high stakes” music. The emotional content is turbulent in the restless first movement, itself another ghostly waltz, but there is no relaxation of tension in the plaintive aria of the second movement nor in the finale, which engages in some tough contrapuntal writing. Throughout, Flagello’s sense of structure and the effectiveness of his scoring show the highest degree of expertise. This must be exciting music to play, and certainly stretching technically; I was struck by some tricky writing for trumpet in the second and third movements. Simmons’s notes do not mention it, but I wonder whether Flagello turned to this medium in the hope of emulating the success of his mentor Vittorio Giannini, whose Symphony No. 3 of 1958 for wind ensemble became a major repertory piece.


The characterful tone poem Odyssey of 1981 teems with even more “veiled portents” than the symphony, despite its comparatively jaunty central section. The tension of the grim opening is fearsome—so much so, I was reminded of Max Steiner’s atmospheric score for King Kong.


Naxos has previously released a fine recording of the original version of Flagello’s Concerto Sinfonico , and it is enlightening to compare the two. Patterson’s transcription is first-rate; like all good arrangements, it never hints that the work might have been conceived for different forces. Hearing the saxophone quartet as a sub-group of the wind ensemble clarifies the counterpoint (of which there is a lot in this work) and points up the intricacies of the interplay between the concertante and ripieno groups. The version with full orchestra sounds more like a concerto, with the soloists set in higher relief against the texture of strings. Again, it is a tough work but full of integrity, and though it was Flagello’s final completed composition it shows no sign whatsoever of his failing mental and physical condition.


Arnold Rosner is a younger composer than his discmate. Their two symphonies are quite unalike, except that both composers use tonal harmony. Rosner’s primary influence is the music of pre-Baroque eras, and I think the sonorities of the symphonic wind band emphasize this. The first movement of his symphony (titled “Ave Maria”) has an authentic feel of antiquity about it, almost as though it were a transcription of a Palestrina motet. A brass cantus firmus in the third movement (“Pythagoras”) brings overtones of Gesualdo, while the frequent use of sparkling tuned percussion across the top of the polyphonic texture suggests court music of the medieval period. Yet there is a freedom in the handling and development of this material that is distinctly 20th century. (The symphony was composed in 1988.) It is a fascinating and beautiful piece, probably my favorite of the composer’s works that I know.


The sound is close-up in the Naxos tradition, but that is no problem because the University of Houston Wind Ensemble plays magnificently. Its blend, attack, and range of dynamics are all this music requires and more, under Bertman’s strong direction. Playing standards have varied in the Naxos Wind Band Classics series, but this is one of the very best and a welcome addition to the growing Flagello discography.


FANFARE: Phillip Scott

One of the most recognized wind bands in the United States, the Ohio State University Wind Symphony, conducted by Russel C. Mikkelson, has been a strong advocate for the composition of new works for wind band. This album by the ensemble features the title track, Network, as the explosive album opener. Following are works by Benjamin Britten, Gustav Mahler, and Steven Bryant. Soprano Katherine Rohrer is featured for Mahler’s Um Mitternacht.

Fuchs’s distinctive voice, flair for orchestral colours and sheer lyricism shine through.

Kenneth Fuchs is fortunate indeed to have not one but two discs of his music recorded by the London Symphony Orchestra. The first, in 2003, was nominated for two Grammys in 2005 and the second, recorded in 2006, should do well too, such is the quality of both the music and music-making. Holding it all together in the orchestral pieces and the mixed quintet is conductor JoAnn Falletta, who made such a strong impression in her recent disc of Respighi (review).

United Artists, the first item on the disc, was written specifically for the LSO as a gesture of thanks for their earlier recording of Fuchs’s works (Naxos 8.559224). At its core is a four-note motif, presented first in the Coplandesque opening fanfare. But this isn’t derivative music; indeed, the composer’s distinctive ‘voice’ is evident from the outset, and his flair for orchestral colours and sheer lyricism shine through in this atmospheric opener.

Quiet in the land is another of those vast musical landscapes that might provoke comparisons with Copland, yet Fuchs’s evocation of the Midwestern Plains just as the Iraq war was beginning is rather more complex and ambiguous in its sentiments. As the composer writes in the liner notes, ‘I wondered how quiet the spirit of our land might be’.

Even without this programme the opening bars hint at harmony, subtly undermined by vague discord - just listen to that quiet, agitated figure that begins at 1:30, beneath the more lyrical and expansive melody above. It is such lucid, ‘hear-through’ writing, yet it’s full of warmth. The members of the LSO manage to bring out both these aspects of the score, blending precision with feeling. And what a haunting close, too.

The recording venue – St Luke’s in London’s Old Street – is very well captured by the engineers, with no hint of brittleness or edge. The musicians seem ideally placed, too, which is particularly welcome in Fire, Ice, and Summer Bronze for brass quintet. Subtitled an ’Idyll ... after two works on paper by Helen Frankenthaler’ the first movement yokes together two eternal opposites – fire (the restless first section) and ice (the more muted second section).

There seems to be an underlying creative tension in some of these pieces, perhaps an attempt to reconcile musical and emotional extremes. For instance, in Summer Bronze the music is strangely mercurial – now lyrical, now dissonant, now both. But it’s that other dichotomy, between outward virtuosity and inner feeling, that these seasoned players – always secure, always poised – convey so well.

Based on a painting by Jackson Pollock, Autumn Rhythm does contain some jazzy snippets, but the emphasis seems to be on sonorities, with long, lyrical melodic lines and, at times, a quirky bass. It is a strangely ‘in-between’ piece; to use the autumn analogy, summer is not quite done, yet winter is on its way. In his notes Fuchs describes how the two states are drawn together and, indeed, how one becomes the other: ‘An unusual aspect of this composition is that in its final section the flute, oboe, and clarinet metamorphose into their lower – perhaps autumnal – counterparts, the alto flute, English horn, and bass clarinet.’ It’s a remarkable sleight of hand, deftly constructed and seamlessly executed.

Canticle of the Sun – a hymn tune based on 13th-century texts by St Francis of Assisi – is built on a four-note motif. Written for the LSO’s principal horn player, Timothy Jones, this 20-minute gem has a radiant, all-embracing optimism that is just irresistible. Indeed, it is not unlike a stained glass window, all those fragments of high colour glowing in the light behind. But at the centre of it all is Jones’s supple and passionate playing, surely as seductive a performance of this piece as we are ever likely to hear.

As with Respighi’s Church Windows, Falletta displays a sense of line and phrase that is most welcome in this music. And while I’ve grumbled about the sound on some Naxos releases I’m prepared to eat humble pie on this one. The engineers have done an exceptional job capturing the sound of the LSO at St Luke’s; what a pleasant change from the dry-as-dust Barbican.

Early days, I know, but this could be one of my discs of 2008.

Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International

ach of these five contemporary American pieces for wind band, performed by one of the country’s leading ensembles, explores its own very personal soundscape. Paul Dooley delves into the world of drum & bass with electronically inspired orchestrations, whilst for Steve Danyew the exploration of counterpoint is paramount. In composer Roy David Magnuson’s own words, Innsmouth, Massachusetts–1927 is “pulpy horror music” that depicts a night in H.P. Lovecraft’s terrifying The Shadow Over Innsmouth. In contrast, Scott McAllister’s Gone is meditative and prayerful. Pulitzer and GRAMMY® Prize-winner Jennifer Higdon’s Percussion Concerto is heard here in its arrangement for wind ensemble.

These are world premiere recordings.

The acclaimed conductor and composer Salvador Brotons is renowned for his music for symphonic band. It was Rebroll (Rebirth), a symphonic poem in one movement inspired by contemporary events, which first earned him international recognition, and is performed worldwide. Symphony No. 6 'Concise' charts a dramatic course between rhythmic dynamism, ceremonial grandeur and lyrical intimacy. Glosa de l'Emigrant is a nostalgic song cast as a sardana, the national dance of Catalonia, and features the beautiful sound of the tenora, a Catalan folk instrument. Brotons' Symphony No. 5 and his Oboe Concerto can be heard on 8.573163.