Chandos features a varied selection of orchestral works by Benjamin Britten, performed by the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra under Richard Hickox, to mark the great composer's centenary year on this re-release. Included works are the Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra, Suite on English Folk Tunes, the Suite from Johnson over Jordan, and Four Sea Interludes.

BRITTEN Solo Cello Suites: Nos. 1–3 • Daniel Müller-Schott (vc) • ORFEO C 835 111 A (70:33)

Next to Bach’s six, there are probably no greater challenges to the art of the cello than the three suites for solo cello of Benjamin Britten, even considering those by Hindemith and Reger. Britten had wanted to compose six but died before he could write more than three. No matter; these are major pieces, and it is good to see them coming more into their own with a number of recent recordings of all or some of them.

We are told that it was hearing Rostropovich play the first Shostakovich cello concerto in 1960 that impelled Britten to write a sonata for him, which they performed the following year, and to write the Cello Symphony in 1963. The three suites followed in 1964, 1967, and 1971. It is customary to grant Rostropovich authority in the performance of the first two suites (he never recorded the third), though he himself had some later reservations about his recording of the first, because he thought he played it so much better later. But these suites have now become the province of young cellists and that’s a good thing.

Daniel Müller-Schott has all the technical skills necessary (a phenomenal pp , for instance). He takes a forthright approach to the first suite. The opening Canto is firmly stated and adumbrates what follows. His performance sounds to me more a matter of statements about than a lyrical exploration of Britten’s voice. On the whole, he seems much more comfortable in the second suite, though the concluding Ciaccona occasionally loses its sense of line. The third suite, however, starts off with a wonderfully caressing Lento, and Müller-Schott is completely engaged with what follows. No recording of Bach’s or Britten’s suites, however good, and this is certainly a good one, can take the place of hearing them live.

This recording is certainly to be recommended and it gets better as it goes on. Müller-Schott has a slightly grainy sound and this fits his approach. He has clearly taken to heart Leonard Bernstein’s view of Britten’s music that “if you really hear it, not just listen to it superficially, you become aware of something very dark.” These are dark recordings, indeed. This is not the only view possible of these suites, however, and I am also much taken with the more lyrical one by Tim Hugh (Naxos), a recording that seems to have slipped past us, and Peter Wispelwey has a recent (2010) live recording of the first suite that is wonderful to hear (Onyx). These are good times for Britten’s response to Bach.

FANFARE: Alan Swanson

To mark Britten's 100th birthday, Mariss Janson's conducted the composer's best-known and most moving work, War Requiem, in March 2013. In addition to the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, the Tolz Boys' Choir can also be heard. An outstanding ensemble of soloists rounds off this remarkable recording.

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

Okay, you're not going to find the insane intensity of Rostropovich/Vishnevskaya/Reshetin in Ormandy's Fourteenth symphony, but as you might expect, this Western premiere recording is really well played, and surprisingly well sung. Simon Estes has a rich, dark bass sound, and Phyllis Curtin is, in her own way, practically as intense as Vishnevskaya. Ormandy's conducting could be more volatile, particularly in the quicker songs, but he was always an excellent interpreter of this composer, and it's good to see this disc reappearing in Japanese RCA's Ormandy edition. The Britten pieces are also surprisingly effective given their late date in Ormandy's career. Again, the "Storm" could be a bit wilder, but the Passacaglia is terrific. Sonically this really is pretty good for its 1970s RCA vintage. Available from Arkivmusic.com, on-demand.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

800 liters of water, two sails, thirty pulleys, sixty hammocks : for the Bicentenary of the Teatro Real of Madrid, Deborah Warner coined a colossal production of Benjamin Britten's Billy Budd. "Oh, what have I done?" Captain Edward Fairfax Vere, former commander of the H.M.S. Indomitable asks himself with horror at the beginning of the opera, before recounting the tragic events that took place aboard his ship in 1797. The story revolves around a young model sailor, Billy Budd, and John Claggart, the unscrupulous master-at-arms obsessed and crazed by Billy's angelic beauty; and follows the characters in their fall down to the most infernal depths of perversion and psychosis, exploring the themes of innocence, culpability, individual responsibility and justice. In this ambiguous and symbolic tale, drawn from Herman Melville's last masterpiece, the composer Benjamin Britten, who returns for the occasion to symphonic opera and it's infinite possibilities, unsettles and disturbs us by revealing the complexity and universality of human experience. Far from writing the characters as allegories of Good and Evil, the opera shows us instead the remorseless logic followed by the surge of one's darkest desires. But in this opera dominated by masculinity, Deborah Warner goes beyond the story of violence, jealousy and hatred and chooses to focus instead on the collateral beauty produced by comradeship, friendship and forgiveness. Tenor Jacques Imbrailo, who knows the title role perfectly, delivers a stunning rendition of the young sailor's part, while British singers Toby Spence and Brindley Sherratt provide solid interpretations of Captain "Starry" Vere and of John Claggart. In the pit, Ivor Bolton masterfully deploys, along with the Orchestra of the Teatro Real, all the energy and power of Britten's fifth opera.

A most beguiling release crowning the Britten centenary. Les Illuminations and the Serenade for tenor, horns and strings are two of Britten's most enduringly popular works. Tenor Peter Schrier, heard here at the height of his powers, with Herbert Kegel conducting the Leipzig Radio Symphony Orchestra. Reissue of performances dating from 1967 recordings done in the then DDR (German Democratic Republic). Booklet includes both liner notes and the sung texts.

BRITTEN War Requiem • Paul McCreesh, cond; Susan Gritton (sop); John Mark Ainsley (ten); Christopher Maltman (bar); Gabrieli Young Singers’ Scheme; Trebles of the Ch of New College Oxford; Wroclaw P Ch; Gabrieli Consort & Players • SIGNUM 340 (2 CDs: 84: 05)


Time was when Paul McCreesh was considered a specialist—and a brilliant one—in the Baroque and Classical periods, primarily in operas and liturgical choral works. In the last two years, however, he has released four extraordinary recordings, three of which might seem, at least to the record collector, to be outside his domain: the Berlioz Grande Messe des Morts , Mendelssohn’s Elijah , and a collection of British choral works on loss and consolation, A Song of Farewell , featuring the Herbert Howells Requiem. (The only exception is a newly refined conjectural reconstruction of the 1595 coronation service for Doge Marino Grimani in Venice.) Now, for the Benjamin Britten centennial, he has produced a new studio recording of the incomparable War Requiem . Each of these large scale undertaking is an outgrowth of McCreesh’s association with the International Festival of Oratorio and Cantata Music in Wroclaw, Poland (Wratislavia Cantans) and each employs not only a much augmented Gabrieli Consort and Players, but also the very fine Wroclaw Philharmonic Choir. Those familiar with McCreesh’s earlier masterful shaping of the large musical canvasses of Berlioz and Mendelssohn with his hundreds of performers will know exactly what to expect here.


And in fact, from the hushed suspense of the opening of the Requiem aeternam , to the more gentle than usual beginning to an extraordinarily powerful Dies irae , on to a more accurate than typical Sed signifier sanctus Michael , and an explosive Hosanna in excelsis , McCreesh and his 175-voice adult choir combine huge dynamic range with precision and flawless balance, perfect intonation, and great depth and variety of tone. The equally fine youth choir is made up of trebles from the Choir of New College Oxford, as well as choirs from McCreesh’s educational project, the Gabrieli Young Singers’ Scheme: Chethams Chamber Choir, North East Youth Chorale, Taplow Youth Choir, and Ulster Youth Chamber Choir. From its first appearance in a perfectly judged halo of resonance, the distanced body of treble voices is touchingly angelic.


The full orchestral forces make an awesome commotion in all the right places, the brass especially impressive in the various apocalypses and dramatic explosions; the one with organ near the end of the Libera me gave me chills. However, the chamber music, with an ensemble of superb soloists, lingers just as long in memory, aided as they are by McCreesh’s willingness to suspend forward momentum, to focus more than customary attention on details in the settings of Owen’s poems. I do not know a recording that gives greater support to the soloists than this.


These soloists know how to use the opportunities afforded them. McCreesh opts for an all-British trio, rather than continuing the symbolic use of English, German, and Russian soloists. More than many tenor soloists, John Mark Ainsley manages to break the hold of the Peter Pears tradition in the solos, while still being true to the substance of the work. He sings “One ever hangs” with breathtaking beauty of tone, and finds great poignancy and palpable fury in “Move him into the sun.” Baritone Christopher Maltman does the same in “Bugles sang,” sounding little like Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau but matching him in text pointing and intelligence of phrasing, here and in a chillingly scornful “Be slowly lifted up.” Together, they are arresting in “So Abram rose,” aided by McCreesh’s perceptive pacing, as they had been in the earlier sardonic “Out there, we’ve walked.” Susan Gritton is not as piercingly imperious as Galina Vishnevskaya in the Sanctus or Libera me , but the beauty of her voice in the Benedictus and the concluding In paradisum is more than ample compensation. The two male soloists outdo themselves in the concluding scena, “It seemed that out of battle I escaped,” and if “Let us sleep now” does not reduce you to tears, nothing in music can.


My two small complaints seem almost churlish in the face of such perfection: first, the books in which this and all of McCreesh’s Signum/Winged Lion releases are issued are quite beautifully done—texts, intelligent notes, and striking illustrations—but the endsheet sleeves invite scratches and, as in my case, surface scuffs. There must certainly be a better way. The second is the decision to provide only six tracks for the entire work, one at each of the major divisions of the Mass. Maybe only critics making comparisons care, but it would have been simple to add more.


But enough, the essential question is, does this new recording supplant Britten’s own with the soloists for whom he wrote the work? Britten was a master conductor of his own music, so almost inevitably the answer is, well … no. And yet, so powerful is McCreesh’s performance, so insightful the interpretive choices, so fine the soloists, and so clear and dynamic the recording, it would be hard indeed to have to choose between this and the original. Adding to the dilemma, Decca has just remastered the 1963 Britten recording from the master tapes—described as increasingly fragile—for its comprehensive anniversary issue and has made yet another incremental improvement in the transfer of the always fine Culshaw production. I recommend having both in the collection—this is, after all, no different than having multiple Beethoven symphony sets—and for the truly devoted, add Noseda’s hyper-dramatic performance on LSO Live and Rilling’s on Hänssler. There are other fine performances of this masterpiece, but these four—and definitely this new one—now define summa cum laude.

FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames

Two previous Britten CDs reviewed in these pages were rescued, as was this one, from the archives of the now defunct Collins Classics label. If you happen to have the original 1992 Collins disc, be advised that it and the current Naxos release are one and the same. If you don?t have it, the present CD offers an excellent opportunity to acquire two of Benjamin Britten?s most popular works? The Young Person?s Guide and the Frank Bridge Variations ?plus two other not-so-often-heard pieces in the composer?s most approachable style, all in fine performances, a splendid recording that sounds newly minted, and at budget cost.


Few, if any, of Britten?s works have enjoyed the exposure of his Young Person?s Guide to the Orchestra , commissioned in 1946 for an educational film intended for the ?edification and entertainment? of children. Like other works of its type?Saint-Saëns?s Carnival of the Animals and Prokofiev?s Peter and the Wolf ?Britten?s piece has been edifying and entertaining audiences of all age groups ever since.


The major offering here, the Variations on a Theme of Frank Bridge , was Britten?s tribute to his teacher. Written in 1937, it was premiered by the Boyd Neel Orchestra that same year, and recorded by the same forces a year later. That recording has been transferred to CD by Pearl, and is still available, as is Britten?s own 1967 recording with the English Chamber Orchestra on Decca. Several more recent accounts have also been committed to disc, the most recent being a very impressive SACD release with the Scottish Ensemble on Linn Records. I don?t think it too far a stretch to say that Britten?s Frank Bridge Variations may well be the most important work in variations form to come from the pen of an English composer since Elgar?s Enigma Variations .


The Occasional Overture and Prelude and Fugue for 18-part string orchestra have received less attention on disc, though the former found a place in a Britten anthology recorded by Simon Rattle, and the latter in a collection of the composer?s works led by Ronald Thomas for Chandos.


The current Naxos release serves a meal well balanced between two of Britten?s enduring masterpieces and two lighter, palate-cleansing courses. If you don?t already have the Collins original, go for it.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.

Also available on standard DVD

Benjamin Britten
DEATH IN VENICE

Gustav von Aschenbach - John Graham Hall
Traveller / Elderly Fop / Gondolier / Barber / Hotel Manger / Player / Dionysus - Andrew Shore
Apollo - Tim Mead
Tadzio - Sam Zaldivar
The Polish Mother - Laura Caldow
Two Daughters - Mia Angelina Mather / Xhuliana Shehu
The Governess - Joyce Henderson
Jaschiu - Marcio Teixeira

English National Opera Chorus and Orchestra
Edward Gardner, conductor
Deborah Warner, stage director

Recorded live at the London Coliseum, June 2013

Picture format:1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Korean
Running time: 153 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)

Benjamin Britten was a viola player as well as a pianist and wrote a significant body of chamber music for stringed instruments. The works on this recording - which contains important world premiere recordings - were written between 1925 and 1937, with the exception of the masterpiece for viola, Lachrymae. Each reveals some characteristic aspect of Britten's voice, from the variety and wit of the Suite for Violin and Piano, Op. 6 to the little-known but absorbingly imaginative Reveille and the remarkably assured 1930 Elegy, written when he was just seventeen.

This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.

Also available on standard DVD
Adapted from Thomas Mann’s 1912 novella, Death in Venice was Benjamin Britten’s last opera, the composer insisting on its completion while delaying badly needed heart surgery. The starkly simple narrative of a famous but failing novelist travelling to Venice to seek inspiration only to find unhealthy infatuation and deadly cholera, is given a chamber-like precision and clarity through Britten’s score, becoming a haunting drama filled with musical symbols, disquieting mystery and richly evocative atmospheres of Venice and its strange characters. Willy Decker’s Teatro Real production was described as ‘one of his most brilliant stage works… a remarkable technical feat.’

BRITTEN Death in Venice • Edward Gardner, cond; John Graham-Hall (Aschenbach); Andrew Shore (Traveler, Elderly Fop, Old Gondolier, Hotel Manager, Hotel Barber, Leader of Players, Voice of Dionysus); Tim Mead (Voice of Apollo); English Natl Op O & Ch • OPUS ARTE 1130 (DVD: 153:00) Live: London 6/18, 21, 24/2013

Benjamin Britten’s last opera, Death in Venice, has never really caught on, except perhaps in England itself. It has appeared twice at the New York Met, but the last appearance was some 20 years ago. I don’t believe it ever sold out the house. Based on a rather pretentious novella by Thomas Mann, the story seemingly does not adapt well to the operatic stage. The main conflict is an internal one for the aged main character, Gustav von Aschenbach, between powerful homoerotic lust for a young boy and the desperate desire to maintain his dignity and moral rectitude. Scene changes are so numerous the opera requires 17 short tableaus, a stage director’s nightmare. Britten’s score is also rather quirky and austere as befits the story, and lacks much melody. There are really only three singing roles, although the chorus is quite busy in several of the tableaus. Most of the heavy lifting (or singing) is done by the old man and a deus ex machina who appears in several roles and seems to be propelling Aschenbach relentlessly to his fate (the title perhaps might reveal a clue as to that). Still in all, it is quite an engrossing drama to see once, and this English National Opera (ENO) production provides quite a good representation of it.

Accolades should go to stage director Deborah Warner, set designer Tom Pye, and costume designer Chloe Obolensky for the rapid, efficient scene changes and the eye-catching look of the staging. Most of the action occurs in and around Venice: on the beach, in the hotel, and in the city itself. The evocative perception of these settings is conveyed cleverly yet opulently with only the judicious use of a few props and curtains. Aschenbach’s erotic interest, the young boy Tadzio, and his chums on the beach are portrayed by dancers, so that Britten has ample opportunity to employ the orchestra without bothering the singers. Aschenbach surreptitiously follows the boy’s Polish family around: the mother with her parasol, two daughters, the boy, and a governess, all mute roles. They reminded me of a family of ducks parading constantly back and forth across the stage. If one’s attention sometimes flags, it is due more to the story itself than ENO’s creative staging.

None of the singers is vocally challenged by Britten’s score, though perhaps taxed for stamina, so consummate actors are the order of the day. The difficult role of Aschenbach, with all his internal struggles, is rendered powerfully here by John Graham-Hall. If Graham-Hall is not always completely successful in communicating the heat of his obsessive passion for the boy (they never talk) or his internal agonizing, it is at least partly due to what he is given to sing. Although Britten always claimed his declamation was based on natural inflections of speech, much of it doesn’t sound very natural, at least to these non-Brit ears. The multiple roles of the rather enigmatic propeller of Aschenbach’s fate are a bit reminiscent of the multiple, but singularly sung, villains in Tales of Hoffman. The role(s) is taken here by baritone Andrew Shore. Shore sings well and seems just creepy enough to give the story the proper feel of existential angst and ambiguity it requires. The third major singing role is that of the Voice of Apollo, the personification of Aschenbach’s rational and moral side, opposed to Shore’s Dionysus of licentious appetite. Sung here quite well by countertenor Tim Mead in one of the opera’s few arioso passages, the rather trite and overused convention of arguing inner voices at least retains some interest. As with many modern operas, Britten gives the orchestra a major role, and the ENO forces under Edward Gardner respond admirably (as do the choristers). Special mention also needs to be made of young dancer Sam Zaldivar, who portrays the boy Tadzio seductively, but with an athletic grace of movement. I watched with English subtitles, but they certainly weren’t necessary, diction is very clear and Britten never overpowers the singing with dense orchestration. Subtitles are also available in French, German, and Korean.

For a rather obscure opera, Death in Venice seems to have been served well on video. First came a 1981 Tony Palmer film that was supposed to give Britten’s life companion, tenor Peter Pears, his chance to record the role. In the event, Pears was invalided by a stroke and was replaced, apparently most admirably, by Robert Gard. Baritone John Shirley-Quirk is also mentioned as being very fine in the role of the Traveler, et al. There is also a 1990 Glyndebourne production, and a 2008 production from La Fenice in Venice itself, both of which received good reviews and both still available. I must confess I have seen none of these competitors. The La Fenice set is available in high definition Blu-ray, just as this Opus Arte disc. I may only have the inclination or opportunity to see Death in Venice once, and this handsome and well-performed ENO production certainly proves a fine way to do so. Recommended.

FANFARE: Bill White   

Melly Still's production for Glyndebourne finds the "delicate balance between whimsy and mysticism" (Daily Telegraph) at the heart of the opera, which Vladimir Jurowski conducts "with lustrous style: you can hear the birds in the score, feel the sunshine and thrill to the starlit night sky in the final scene" (Opera Today).