No matter how well we think we know the music of a specific composer, we are consistently surprised when something from the darker recesses of their output appears on a concert program or a compact disc. Beethoven left a small but significant quantity of wind chamber music. Small but significant. Is that a contradiction in terms? Under some circumstances it might be, but in the case of Beethoven, the answer is a resounding “Nyet!” The fact is, Beethoven’s Sextet, op. 71 (scored for clarinets, horns, and bassoons), and the Octet, op. 103 (which adds a pair of oboes to the makeup of the Sextet), have earned a place of honor in the wind ensemble repertoire. So has the brief but lovely Rondino, WoO 25, which is scored for the same forces. There are less familiar works as well, including three duets for clarinet and bassoon, and the music for double reed trio on this recording.

Among the musicians that Beethoven encountered in the capital of the Austro-Hungarian Empire were the oboists Johann Wendt, Georg Triebensee, and his son, Josef. Tradition indicates that Beethoven’s Trio, op. 87, was inspired by similar works penned by Wendt and indeed, he wrote several such works for himself and Triebensee père et fil. The existence of more than a fistful of such seemingly oddly scored works is an indicator of the popularity of the genre at the time. Both the trio and the Mozart variations appear to date from the late 1790s and there is speculation that the variations were the original finale to the lengthier and more complex trio. Beethoven virtually abandoned wind chamber music after the turn of the 18th century, but works such as the trios recorded here and other music from his early years were instrumental—pardon the pun—in developing his treatment of the orchestral winds.

The Beethoven works owe their contemporary success to the composer’s ability to write for a group of winds that is somewhat analogous to a string configuration of two violins and viola or a vocal ensemble of two sopranos and an alto. There is no true bass instrument; the underpinning is assigned to the English horn, as is some of the melodic work. The Trio, op. 87, is full of the confidence of youth, almost bordering on braggadocio, but Beethoven’s sure footed treatment of the material and the way in which he dispenses it to the performers herald some of the great things to come. The set of variations on “La ci darem la mano” is among my favorites in the wind chamber music repertoire. It offers daunting challenges, both technical and expressive, and much contrast in style throughout its nine-minute run. All of the performers are put through their paces, especially the English horn in the second variation and the first oboist in the fifth. Melodic lines are tossed back and forth with the ease one would expect from Beethoven, and a delightful scherzo-like section dovetails into a quasi Andante variation on the theme, which concludes the work.

Beethoven’s circle of friends in Vienna included the brothers Paul and Anton Wranitzky. The youngest of the pair, Anton, was a much-respected composer, conductor, and concert manager. He studied with the best (Mozart, Albrechtsberger, and Haydn) and was so highly thought of that he went on to become leader of the Imperial Court Orchestra and of the orchestra at the Theater an der Wien. Undoubtedly Wranitzky worked with Wendt and Josef Triebensee at some point and either favored them with this trio gratis, or wrote it on commission from them. The trio could almost be termed a symphony for two oboes and English horn, for all of the elements are there, a fully-developed sonata-form first movement, a sunny and uncomplicated andante with a pleasant set of variations, the traditional minuet, and a buffo rondo finale in which all three protagonists chatter away like so many village gossips. These are relaxed, genial, and well-articulated readings that must be as much fun to play as they are to listen to. Textures are pellucid, clearly defined, and blended with masterly expertise. The sense of give-and-take between these three people is exceptional and the replications of old instruments project a unique and pungent tone that lacks the nasal quality found in their modern counterparts. Sadly, there is one problem. These three outstanding American wind-players have no collective name. I like Prevailing Winds. What about you?

Michael Carter, FANFARE

"The performance on this disc by John Salmon is of the highest caliber. He plays beautifully, both with precision and expertise, and pulls the most out of each note. His facility at the keyboard is wonderful. If a better performance of these works can be done, I would be amazed... this disc is truly excellent. The music is a joy. The performance is exquisite. Very highly recommended."
-- Patrick Gary, www.musicweb.uk.net

"This fine disc of [Brubeck's] more formal piano pieces was born from long years of dedication by American pianist John Salmon...Throughout the disc, Salmon plays with rhythmic strength and remarkable digital clarity."
-- Bradley Bambarger, Gramophone

This is one red-hot Shostakovich Fourteenth. Mark Wigglesworth holds nothing in reserve as he leads a blazing account of the score, with the BBC Wales Orchestra providing some wonderfully gutsy string playing (the frenzied leaping in Malaguena and the brutal slashing of the Zaporozhian Cossacks' Answer), and driven, searingly precise percussion. The tubular bells evoke dread whenever they are struck, and the rude prominence given the woodblock enhances its chilling effect. Both singers skirt the edge, going all out in their portrayals. Joan Rogers projects palpable desperation in Loreley, near-hysteria in Malaguena, and resigned gloom in The Suicide. John Tomlinson sings with a miraculous combination of suavity, depravity, and grit that makes his De profundis, Zaporozhian Cossacks' Answer, and O Delvig especially enthralling. Of course, you'll still have to seek out Rostropovich's pioneering recording to feel the full lacerating impact of the work (when it was still new), and to experience the exquisite, benumbed horror embodied by Galina Vishnevskaya. But, with demonstration quality sound from BIS (watch that extremely wide dynamic range!), Wigglesworth's rendition belongs in the top rank among modern versions. --Victor Carr Jr., ClassicsToday.com

John Williams Legacy is a landmark collection featuring the maestro conducting his most iconic film scores, including beloved classics from Star Wars, Harry Potter, Jurassic Park, Indiana Jones, E.T., and more. Performed by world-renowned orchestras, including Berliner Philharmoniker, Wiener Philharmoniker, and the Recording Arts Orchestra of Los Angeles, these definitive high-fidelity recordings capture the composer's vision with unparalleled authenticity. Featuring liner notes by acclaimed journalist and author John Burlingame, this collection is a powerful celebration of one of film music's greatest careers and an essential addition for fans old and new. CD Digipak.

Scintillating pianism in music from Mozart to Messiaen: the complete Argo and Decca recordings of John Ogdon. John Ogdon began to study at the Royal Northern College of Music in 1953, at the age of 16. Fellow students such as Alexander Goehr and Harrison Birtwistle were astonished by the speed of Ogdon's mind, matched by his facility at the keyboard. He could perform and make sense of the most complex scores, old and new, as though they were child's play. Further study elsewhere led to his triumph at the Moscow Tchaikovsky Competition in 1962, when he shared the gold medal with Vladimir Ashkenazy. He began to record for Decca six years later, in December 1968, with the piano cycle by Olivier Messiaen, Vingt Regards sur l'enfant-Jesus, which renewed the Lisztian tradition of pianism for a new postwar age. Over the next three years he made four further albums for Decca, three of them with his wife Brenda Lucas. The diversity of repertoire testifies to the range of Ogdon's musical talent and intellectual curiosity. More elevated but virtuosic Messiaen (the Visions de l'Amen) sits alongside freewheeling youthful concertos by Mendelssohn and Shostakovich. Almost unknown at the time that Ogdon and Lucas recorded it for Argo in 1972, the Concerto pathetique is a two-piano version, made by Liszt in 1856, of a piece which had begun life as a Grand Solo de concert in 1849. Latterly taken up by the likes of Martha Argerich, the Concerto presents a heroic contrast on record with the restraint of the Six Canons and the poetic Andante and Variations by Schumann. Ogdon's career, both in public and on record, was brought to a sudden and tragic halt by a breakdown in 1973. Struggling with mental health for the rest of his life, he nonetheless returned to the studios briefly in June 1983, to contribute to a Decca set of Mozart's complete music for solo horn, led by Barry Tuckwell. In 1784, Mozart wrote to his father Leopold that the Quintet for Piano and Winds was 'the best thing I have yet written'; Ogdon, Tuckwell and their distinguished colleagues lean into it's mellow warmth while relishing the interplay of texture in Decca's demonstration-quality sound. This 'Original Covers' Eloquence box of Ogdon's Decca and Argo albums valuably restores the Mozart Quintet (and several other recordings) to the catalogue, accompanied by a new and illuminating essay on the pianist's life and career by Mark Ainley.

Released on Impulse! Records in 1966, Ascension stands as one of Coltrane's most radical and influential works. Subtitled "Edition I & II" to reflect the two complete takes recorded at the session, the piece is a nearly 40-minute large-ensemble performance marking his embrace of the avant-garde. Recorded on June 28, 1965 at Rudy Van Gelder's Englewood Cliffs studio and produced by Bob Thiele, the session assembled an expanded ensemble of 11 musicians. Alongside Coltrane's tenor sax are trumpeters Freddie Hubbard & Dewey Johnson; saxophonists Pharoah Sanders, Marion Brown, John Tchicai, & Archie Shepp; pianist McCoy Tyner; bassists Art Davis & Jimmy Garrison; and drummer Elvin Jones. Initially controversial for it's intensity, Ascension is now recognized as a landmark of modern jazz and a defining statement of the emerging free-jazz movement. Presented together on 2-LP for the first time, the Verve Vault series is always mastered from analog tapes and pressed on 180g vinyl at Optimal.

Organist Big John Patton's 1966 soul jazz manifesto Got A Good Thing Goin' was a showcase for the dynamic duo of Patton and guitarist Grant Green, whose deep rapport elevate this set of Patton-Green originals and covers of hits by Marvin Gaye and Sam Cooke. They're backed by Hugh Walker on drums and Richard Landrum on congas. This stereo Blue Note Tone Poet Vinyl Edition was produced by Joe Harley, mastered by Kevin Gray from the original analog master tapes, pressed on 180g vinyl at RTI, and packaged in a deluxe tip-on gatefold jacket.

Relive the return of a cinematic icon with Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack), composed by legendary maestro John Williams. Reuniting with the adventurous spirit of the franchise, Williams once again delivers a sweeping orchestral score filled with excitement, mystery, and nostalgia. Blending the unmistakable Indiana Jones themes with newly crafted motifs, the score enhances Indy's journey into Cold War-era intrigue, ancient secrets, and supernatural discoveries. From thrilling action sequences to more atmospheric and suspenseful moments, Williams' composition captures the timeless essence of the beloved archaeologist. Pressed on limited edition bronze vinyl, this release offers a striking collectible for fans and soundtrack enthusiasts alike. A perfect addition to any collection, it celebrates the enduring legacy of one of film's most iconic heroes and one of cinema's greatest composers.

Limited brown colored vinyl. Experience the epic musical score from the latest adventure with the Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny original motion picture soundtrack, presented here on vinyl format. Featuring the acclaimed compositions by John Williams, this release is a must-have for film score collectors and fans of the iconic franchise.

Presented together for the first time, American composer John McGuire's Pulse Music series (1975-1979) blurs the popular narrative that Minimalism was a reaction against Europe's angular, intellectual, inscrutable high-modernism. McGuire, born in California, studied at Occidental College in Los Angeles and UC Berkeley before going to Europe to study with Karlheinz Stockhausen, Krzysztof Penderecki, and Gottfried Michael Koenig. His compositions lock serialism's warped geometries onto an evenly spaced grid, perfectly preserving serial music's multi-dimensionality while smoothing it's wildest disjunctures and sharpest angles. If serialism is Montreal's Habitat 67 modular housing complex, McGuire's Pulse Music compositions are the primary-colored grids of Le Corbusier's L'Habitation apartment complex - an exuberant expression of the same materials and principles. Every layer of pulses is made distinct through it's timbre, register, and tempo. We hear them as a plurality, organized like stars in the sky. Every so often the sky rotates and the stars appear in a different arrangement. Our ear naturally starts to draw connections and, as it sweeps between one layer and another, what was discrete becomes continuous. Pulses become flows; quantitative reality becomes qualitative experience. McGuire's pulse pieces were realized electronically, in the newly built Studio for Electronic Music at the State University of Cologne and WDR, but Pulse Music II adapted his ideas to an orchestral canvas. Commissioned retrospectively by the composer and radio producer Hans Otte for his Pro Musica Nova festival at Radio Bremen. Alongside the Bremen orchestra, conducted by Klaus Bernbacher, were four pianists-Christoph Delz, Herbert Henck, Deborah Richards, Doris Thomsen-and McGuire himself playing a series of twelve drone-like chords on the organ. The techniques of the electronic Pulse Music pieces required a speed and precision too great for live musicians, so for Pulse Music II McGuire adapted his method to an expanding progression of durations; this had the advantage of being much slower and requiring none of the carefully calibrated tempo changes of Pulse Music I or III. It was still based, says the composer, "on what seemed to me an interesting foray into a completely different kind of time structure. Complex time structures had, by 1975, become a condition for me in two senses: a compositional requirement and maybe an illness." The present recording was made by Radio Bremen at the work's first and only performance, and has been held in their archive until now. "108 Pulses" - originally composed a proof-of-concept piece and realized as a single, repeating loop in a 20 minute tableau - is also presented here for the first time.

In his "Pulse Music" compositions of the mid-1970s, composer John McGuire forged a unique interpretation of European serialism. A student of Karlheinz Stockhausen, Krzysztof Penderecki and Gottfried Michael Koenig, McGuire moved to Cologne, Germany in 1970, where he become associated with the world-leading Studio for Electronic Music at Westdeutscher Rundfunk (WDR) in Cologne. Like Stockhausen, McGuire found his musical imagination both constrained and inspired by the technology that was available to him. A conversation with sculptor Hans Karl Burgeff led McGuire to think beyond the horizon and into limitless space. For "Vanishing Points" (1985-1988), McGuire used an entirely digital set-up for the first time: a digital sequencer, eight Yamaha DX-7 synthesizers and a Studer 24-track digital tape recorder. The piece was conceived as a "sequel" to the Pulse Music series, but also a step forward from it. Whereas the Pulse Music pieces had employed steady streams of pulses, with Vanishing Points McGuire employed pulse layers that accelerate or decelerate against one another, vastly increasing the resulting rhythmic complexity. McGuire's exploration of music technology continued in "A Cappella" (1990-1997), written for his wife, the soprano Beth Griffith, known for her recording of Morton Feldman's "Three Voices" made in 1983. Using samples, he created a four-voice choir of voice samples and arranged them into interacting parts. The composition faced challenges due to the organic nature of the human voice compared to the precision of synthesized sounds. This process involved extensive editing and a negotiation between the "material" and the "original conception". This sort of negotiation applies as much to the composition of a single piece as it does to the work of two decades.