Arkadiusz Adamski is one of the most active clarinetists in Poland. He performs regularly as a soloist and chamber musician, and has an active teaching career. Thanks to many competition successes, which include first prize at the Polish Chamber Music Competition in 1983 and second prize at the International Competition for Karol Kurpinski, Adamski has been one of the most recognized Polish clarinetists from the very start of his career. The present album, presented alongside renowned chamber musicians Marcin Zdunik, Magdalena Wojciechowska and the Apollon Musagete Quartet, includes two works by Johannes Brahms: his Trio for clarinet, cello and piano in A minor op. 114, and Quintet for clarinet, two violins, viola, and cello in B minor, Op. 115.

Otto Klemperer was one of the most important German conductors of the 20th century. After his return from emigration he guest-conducted some of the most important orchestras in Germany - including the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks. He did not assume the position of Chief Conductor in his homeland again, however: he felt estranged and alienated from post-war Germany, and this was compounded by his advanced age and poor health. In April 1956, Klemperer conducted the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks for the very first time - the debut of a man who was almost 71 years old. Up to May 1969, he would conduct a total of eleven evening concerts in Munich. The audiences were always just as delighted as the critics. The latter emphasized the "utmost perfection" of his interpretations and were aware that, due to the conductor's advanced age and state of health, the Munich concerts bore "the seal of the unrepeatable", and that "those fortunate enough to hear these concerts will remember them all their lives". This new album from BR-KLASSIK features Klemperer's interpretations of Haydn's Symphony No. 101, "The Clock" (recorded in the concerts of October 18 and 19, 1956), and Brahms' Fourth Symphony (recorded on September 26 and 27, 1957). - Both works form part of the core classical and romantic symphonic concert repertoire with which Klemperer, like his Munich orchestra, was so familiar.

Shortly after Thomas Leleu moved to Berlin in 2017, he discovered Kurt Weill's music. In Leleu's eyes, Weill symbolizes both exile (to France and the USA) and the mixture of genres, cultures, the influence of jazz, cabaret and classical music. Kurt Weill is the cornerstone of this program, which revolves primarily around vocal works. This album shows Leleu's preference for different genres and how he feels comfortable in each of them. The international press described Leleu as "the world star of the tuba" (Europe 1), "the tuba prodigy" (La Crois), and "the tuba has found it's Paganini" (France Musique). The "absolute genius of the tuba" (La Nouvelle Republue) has forged an impressive career as a crossover artist, performing both classical as well as world and pop music. He deploys his astonishing musicality and versatility to dust off the traditional image of the tuba, while his wide-ranging interests and relaxed approach to concert life make him an ideal ambassador of his instrument.

The Cleveland Orchestra is the “aristocrat among American orchestras” (The Telegraph) and its sovereign, Franz Welser-Möst, rules his subjects with a velvet glove. Indeed, velvet and silk keep showing up in descriptions of the Clevelanders’ sound under its principal conductor. It is Welser-Möst’s nimble alternation between smoothness and a sound that’s as “sharp-edged as a skyscraper” (The Telegraph after the Brahms’ First at the orchestra’s London Proms concert). That keeps the ensemble and the audience figuratively on its toes. Brahms’ Fourth and last Symphony could be said to glow with autumnal colors. Endowed with a strong undercurrent of subdued melancholy, it seems to pine for an irretrievable past. Franz Welser-Möst offers a “lean, propulsive performance” (The Plain Dealer) of this work with his highly concentrated Cleveland Orchestra. The swift pace of the symphony in Welser-Möst’s hands reflects the conductor’s quest for a distinctive, far-from-the-mainstream interpretation. Written nearly contemporaneously in the late 1870s, Johannes Brahms’ rousing Academic Festival Overture and Violin Concerto op. 77 bear witness to a composer at the height of his abilities, a mature master of large-scale masterpieces. The Violin Concerto demands extreme technical proficiency. As if to exemplify this, violinist Julia Fischer gears herself from the very start of this emotionally searing work to maintaining a restrained yet passionate tone.

Also available on Blu-ray

BRAHMS, J.: Serenade No. 2 / Alto Rhapsody / Symphony No. 2 (Lucerne Festival Orchestra, Nelsons) (NTSC)

In 2014, all signs pointed to a new beginning at the Lucerne Festival. For the first time, the festival would take place without the incomparable Claudio Abbado, with the young Latvian Andris Nelsons leading the Lucerne Festival Orchestra. Nelsons had already won the trust and respect of both listeners and performers in a moving memorial concert for Abbado in Lucerne. He is known internationally as one of the most gifted conductors of his generation. Now he was poised to lead the prestigious festival into a new era – he brilliantly mastered this “greatest challenge”(as he himself called it) of his career. The audience and the musicians responded with heart-felt gratitude. “He is aware of every single player and carries us on an unbelievable wave of enthusiasm”, according to concertmaster Sebastian Breuninger. Solo violist Wolfram Christ adds, “Nelsons accepts what is inherent in our orchestra and what comes from Abbado; he builds on it and makes it into something new.”

ANDRIS NELSONS CONDUCTS BRAHMS

Johannes Brahms:
Serenade No. 2 in A Major, Op. 16
Alto Rhapsody, Op. 53
Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 73

Sara Mingardo, contralto
Bavarian Radio Chorus
Lucerne Festival Orchestra
Andris Nelsons, conductor

Recorded live at the Concert Hall of KKL Luzern, 15–16 August 2014

Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: PCM Stereo / Dolby Digital 5.1 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: German, English, French, Japanese, Korean
Running time: 109 mins
No. of DVDs: 1 (DVD 9)

Steinway ambassador, Guildhall professor, and cofounder of the London Piano Festival, Charles Owen turns to the late piano works by Johannes Brahms for his latest AVIE release. Within this collection of Capriccios, Rhapsodies and Intermezzi, Charles reveals myriad moods with the composer harking back as well as facing forward- from evocations of Schubert, Schumann and Liszt in the Eight Klavierstucke, Op. 76; winter-like darkness in the two Op. 79 Rhapsodies; Hungarian foot-stomping dance forms in the seven Fantasies that comprise Op. 116; nostalgic contemplation in the Op. 117 Intermezzi; romantic inflections in Op. 118 Klavierstucke which were dedicated to Clara Schumann; and the tonally forward Klavierstucke, Op. 119. “A class above the rest… His performances are underpinned by an unwavering musicality that is enhanced by close attention to the score.” (International Piano) “Exemplary. Classic. Spellbinding. And enthusiastically recommended.” (Fanfare) “Fantastically versatile… he hits the nail on the head… very stylish, very faithful.” (BBC Radio 3 Record Review)

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REVIEW:

In the Op. 117 Owen finds an apt simplicity to its opening number, while the second has a nice gentleness. The third is filled with a tangible sadness, and is nicely inward—altogether more urgent than Jonathan Plowright, who produces one of the most touchingly withdrawn readings on record. In Op. 116 Owen is particularly telling in the A minor Intermezzo, which has a pleasing intimacy, contrasting with the turbulence of the following number and the sonorously beautiful E major Adagio that forms the set’s centrepiece.

The two Op 79 Rhapsodies are another highlight of this set, with Owen conveying the requisite sense of power, surmounting their difficulties with ease and making the much-played G minor very much his own.

– Gramophone

On this generous last installment of their Schubert-Brahms pilgrimage, Pieter Wispelwey and Paolo Giacometti serve us three iconic sonatas, including a world premiere. In it's original hue of G Major, Brahms' first violin sonata op. 78 is more scintillating and transparent than the D-major cell adaptation, and much more enchanting in it's opening Vivace. Brahms' third violin sonata op. 108 fuses surprising ebullience with superior mastery of form, in an epic piece which is an undiluted kick in the groin when played on a cello. And thankfully, Pieter and Paolo revisit Schubert's Arpeggione, that gem of intimacy, fragility, frivolity and humbling, unattainable beauty. A fitting final, in all respects.

BRAHMS String Sextets Nos. 1 1 and 2 1. String Quintets Nos. 1 2 and 2 2 • Alexander Str Qrt; 1,2 Toby Appel (va); 1 David Requiro (vc) • FOGHORN 2012 (2 CDs: 130:33)


Completed in 1860, the first of Brahms’s two sextets is an effusive outpouring of youthful ardor that belies the age and life-experience of the 27-year-old composer who wrote it. By 1860, Brahms had already lived through the harrowing events of Schumann’s attempted suicide, commitment to a mental institution, and premature death, not to mention the effects of those events on Clara and her children. But Brahms was also in love with Clara, or at least with some idealized love surrogate for Clara, and this B?-Major Sextet seems to sing a song of blissful, sun-filled days, until the arrival of the second movement, that is—a set of variations in D Minor on a theme strongly redolent of the Gypsy melos Brahms picked up during his tour with Hungarian violinist Ede Reményi and which would infuse much of his music for the rest of his life.


Perhaps the most amazing aspect of this Sextet is the clarity of the textures and lines Brahms maintains throughout the work, in spite of the addition of two more instruments to the ensemble and the thickness of the scoring. It’s a transparency that can be heard with penetrating purity in this performance by the Alexander Quartet in which Tony Appel takes the first viola part, and David Requiro takes the second cello part.


Four years later, Brahms turned his attention to a second sextet, this time in G Major, completing it in 1865. Throughout its composition, Brahms was involved in the most serious romantic dalliance of his life, one that very nearly led to the marriage altar. The woman was Agathe von Siebold, to whom Brahms had proposed. Then, suddenly, Brahms got cold feet and broke off the engagement. What this has to do with the Sextet is that it contains one of the composer’s rare (perhaps only) use of a musical cryptogram in which bars 162–168 of the first movement contain the notes A-G-A-D-H (B)-E, a reference to Agathe.


The G-Major Sextet is also richly melodic, but tinged perhaps with just a bit of wistful nostalgia and regret; at 32, Brahms is becoming the sorrowful, lonely traveler we know from many of his later works. The minor-key Scherzo, which now comes in second place, and the Poco Adagio which follows it, have a certain portentous gravitas about them, as if Brahms now knows the journey going forward will not be a particularly happy one for him.


Toby Appel and David Requiro switch roles for the G-Major Sextet, with Appel playing second viola and Requiro playing first cello. The effect on the ensemble is a darkening one, which suits the music perfectly. Go-to, long-time favorites in this piece have been the Nash Ensemble on Onyx and the Raphael Ensemble on Hyperion, but once again, the Alexander Quartet, joined by Appel and Requiro, makes a most persuasive case for the score with a tonal refulgence, textural translucence, and expressivity of phrasing that are hard to resist.


Much later in Brahms’s output come the two string quintets. The F-Major was written in 1882 at Bad Ischl, the composer’s favorite summer retreat. The normally highly self-critical Brahms was so pleased with the work that he wrote to his publisher, “You have never had such a beautiful work from me,” and in a letter to Clara Schumann, he called it “one of my finest works.” History has not necessarily concurred, if one judges by the number of recordings the piece has received; at around 30, it would seem to be Brahms’s least popular chamber work. Hearing it, one has to wonder why, for it contains some of the composer’s most haimish music, warm, sun-drenched, and filled with the optimism and promise borne by a spring day. Unusual for Brahms’s larger chamber works as well is the fact that the Quintet is in three movements instead of four, with the second movement combining elements of a slow movement and a Scherzo into one.


I first learned the quintets from the 1970s LP recordings by the Guarneri Quartet with Michael Tree, which I reviewed in their digitized transfers in 32:6. The players bring a great deal of warmth and bigheartedness to their readings, but they’re perhaps not quite as technically polished as are the Boston Symphony Chamber Players on a Nonesuch CD, which I’ve long enjoyed. I haven’t heard the Uppsala Chamber Soloists’ recent entry on Daphne, which Lynn Bayley praised highly in 37:1, but of those I am familiar with—and in addition to the above-cited Guarneri and Boston versions, they include the Juilliard Quartet with Walter Trampler and the Hagen Quartet with Gérard Caussé—I’d have to say that the Alexander Quartet with Tony Appel outshines them all. The readings are closest to the classic Guarneri accounts in their warmth and beauteous sound, but more technically polished, better balanced, and offering more detailed recorded sound.


The same may be said of the G-Major Quintet, op. 111, the work Brahms intended to be his last, but as we know, Fate had other plans for him. The Quintet was composed in 1890, again at Bad Ischl, as the previous Quintet had been. Surprisingly, there’s no sense of leave-taking, nothing autumnal in the character of this music. It’s in fact quite joyful. In certain ways, however, it does sum up the totality of Brahms’s art. It has been called the composer’s most cosmopolitan work, suggesting a diversity of Italian, Viennese, Hungarian, and Slavic influences. The score has an almost serenade-like personality to it, reflecting back on Brahms’s early orchestral serenades.


These are performances to fall in love with and to live with happily ever after.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Lullabies of my sorrow", that is how Brahms described his short pieces for piano, the intermezzi, capriccii, Klavierstücke and others. In the small form he expresses his deepest musical thoughts, full of tenderness and melancholy. A new recording with Norwegian pianist Håkon Austbø, who shows his deep insight into this complex music. Austbø already revealed his great artistry in his recordings of Erik Satie and of the complete Lyrische Stücke of Edvard Grieg, which received rave reviews.

Felix Klieser first began to take a serious interest in the Horn Trio of Johannes Brahms (1833–1897) at the age of thirteen. Back then he was just a junior student at the College of Music and Drama in Hanover. He bought several different recordings of the work, including one featuring the hornist Peter Damm, whom he was later to meet at a master class in Dresden. “I picked up quickly that Felix was extraordinarily talented. He was able to elicit from the horn a soft, warm sound, a distinctly Romantic horn tone,” says the former horn-player of the Dresden Staatskapelle in high praise of Klieser in the booklet text to the young musician’s new CD entitled “Horn Trios”, released on the Berlin Classics label on September 29, 2017. “The Brahms Trio is the pride of the horn literature,” according to Peter Damm, a view he shares with Felix Klieser. That led him to seek out other such works, perhaps even unknown literature from the horn trio genre. He came across the French composer Frederic Nicolas Duvernoy (1765–1838), who was hornist at the Paris Opera, Faure pupil Charles Koechlin (1867–1950) and the Mannheim-born Robert Kahn (1865–1951) who was hounded by the Nazis. The result is a programme of works spanning nearly 100 years of development of the horn trio, which bring Felix Klieser a further step towards his goal: to place the horn centre stage as a colourful and profoundly Romantic instrument. Such a plan requires the right chamber music partners, whom Felix Klieser has happily found: at the piano sits the outstanding and sensitive Herbert Schuch, while the violin is played by the Ukrainian ARD competition winner Andrej Bielow. “It was a wonderful experience for us to learn these pieces, some of them quite new to us, thereby expanding the scope of the chamber music genre in an exciting way,” enthuses Felix Klieser.

Apart from his high-profile concert activities, Franz Konwitschny was inseparably associated with the foundation and development of the new Eterna label. Between 1959 and 1961 Eterna issued all Beethoven’s and Schumann’s symphonies in the then innovative stereo format. Like all of Konwitschny’s late recordings, these gramophone records are now sought-after collector’s items that offer interpretations of lasting significance. One such notable document of the great maestro is the present recording of Johannes Brahms’s First Symphony, made in June 1962 only weeks before Konwitschny’s death. The producer of this recording, Dieter-Gerhardt Worm, praises “the coherence and euphony of the interpretation. Konwitschny does nothing subjectively, he interprets the work. When I played Konwitschny the recording in hospital before his last concert tour, tears of joy rolled down his face.” Worm, who worked on most of Konwitschny’s recordings as a young production manager for the Eterna label, remembers the focused studio work and the immense artistic importance of the conductor: “As a conductor, he was always one of the greatest for me. What he did as a Bruckner conductor, for instance, was incredible. Konwitschny was more than a musician to whom one could say anything; he was someone who knew instinctively how to apply what he had learnt and integrate it into his conducting gestures.”