These two symphonies were composed for Haydn's second visit to London, during the winter months of 1794-95. He knew the musicians for whom he was writing, and they were a virtuoso ensemble. Therefore these are among the largest scaled, most technically demanding among all his symphonies.

Kuijken's performances are very direct and fresh. His ensemble sounds on the small side for the music, which means that there are fewer strings than there might be. How this would affect a live performance would of course depend upon the size of the chosen venue. In a recording, one can only judge on the end result, and while the sound has good perspective and balance, the strings in both symphonies do sound somewhat 'under nourished'. This may be the recording, may be the playing, may be the lack of sufficient numbers to make an ample sound in tuttis. On the other hand, it may well be intended.

Kuijken's band is full of splendid musicians, and they play on original instruments. The strings use gut rather than wire, and there is little bloom and less vibrato in their sound. Too little of each for my taste, in fact, and in these symphonies this seems less appropriate than it did in the companion performances of the earlier Paris symphonies, composed during the previous decade.

Kuijken's tempi and phrasing are eminently sane and deliver some exciting rhythmic purpose to proceedings. The fast sections develop tellingly out of the slow introductions, and the overall balancing of the movements is highly effective. In fact the music sounds best in the two finales, which reveal the composer's uniquely bubbling wit.

Although the slow movements are expertly paced, in No. 102 especially the lack of bloom in the string sound denies the music some of its intensity and line. For this Adagio movement can stand a slower, more eloquent expression than this. At face value what Kuijken chooses is perfectly fine, but try alternatives such as Sir Colin Davis and the Concertgebouw (Philips) or Eugen Jochum and the London Philharmonic, and the extra richness pays dividends.

These performances have undoubted merits, and are recommended particularly to enthusiasts devoted to the 'original instrument' sound. For the more indulgent listener, it is probably best to try elsewhere. In an ideal world, these do make excellent alternatives to the larger collection, opening up fresh vistas on two great symphonies.

-- Terry Barfoot, MusicWeb International Reviewing DHM 77859

Following on from the success of the Red and Yellow series (a total of twenty-eight reissues), which have restored to the limelight the treasures of the label’s Baroque music catalogues, here are fourteen new titles offering a chance to renew acquaintance with further gems of the Baroque as well as a number of rarities. This third series also expands to embrace the Classical repertory (Mozart, Haydn etc.) and other cultures, notably those of the East, in recordings that form an integral part of Alpha’s identity and history. The fourteen reissues are performed by the leading musicians in the relevant repertory; most of these discs received one or more press distinctions on their first release. They are accompanied by full booklets, with articles in three languages (English, French, German) and richly illustrated chronologies. A wide range of photographers have provided the cover illustrations for the series, this time with the colour blue as the unifying thread.

HAYDN Symphonies: No. 41 in C; No. 49 in f, “La passione”; No. 44 in e, “Trauer” • Gary Cooper, cond; Arion Baroque O (period instruments) • EARLY MUSIC 7769 (70:22)


Opening the shrink-wrap, I think, “Oh, no; not another ensemble doing Haydn symphonies. Two minutes later I am whooping with glee. How is it possible that performances of Haydn symphonies keep getting better and better? If there were any doubt that 15 period instruments can raise the roof, this CD settles it. The Montreal ensemble, led by Gary Cooper (yup) from the harpsichord, plays with staggering virtuosity and winning panache; there is a delicious crunch to its f attacks and an appealing buzz to its sf . Arion has a horn-player (or two!) who outdoes even Anthony Halstead on the natural horn, and its period oboes are unusually warm and solid, free of squeals or honks. Cooper uses an (authenticated) alternate version of the score of the C-Major Symphony: in place of the trumpets, normal horns, and timpani listed in the published score—used by Max Goberman, Derek Solomons, and Thomas Fey—it features a pair of high horns in C-alt, in addition to the normal oboes and strings, plus a solo transverse flute in the Andante. The fanfares in the opening Allegro con spirito are far more exciting on these horns than on trumpets; this is a wonderful performance throughout, one that reveals various lacks and excesses in the other three recordings. Cooper takes both repeats in sonata-form movements, but not the second one in the Andante or those in the Menuet da capo.


Cooper’s readings of the minor-key symphonies are sensitive and beautifully played, but he downplays their Sturm-und-Drang character. Violins in “La passione” are effectively damped to reduce their sheen. Cooper, like Solomons, plays both repeats in the opening Adagio, but Fey, who does not play the second repeat, achieves greater power and depth with much slower tempos and longer rests. It’s difficult to believe that Fey’s strings, with their aching tang, are not gut. As I reported in Fanfare 30: 3, Fey nearly equals the classic Scherchen performance, which is blemished by messy execution and poor monaural sound. In “La passione,” Fey’s artistry triumphs over Solomons’s and Cooper’s political correctness.


The laurels revert to Cooper in the E-Minor Symphony. His opening Allegro con brio bursts with an unmatched vitality; his Presto finale is fast and furious, but just enough slower than Fey’s (31:5) to avoid the sense of panic that creeps in there. Neither performance suggests the spirit of mourning implied by the symphony’s title (for that one must return to Scherchen), but Arion’s playing is so spectacular that I prefer its “Trauer” to all others. Cooper’s Montrealers also produce richer tone than Fey’s Heidelbergers, due in part to the gorgeous recorded sound captured in Quebec’s Saint-Augustin de Mirabel.


Many recent discs of Haydn symphonies have included one superior performance along with one or two lesser outings, which makes for a lot of duplication in one’s collection. At least Cooper hits two out of three.


FANFARE: James H. North

2 discs for the price of 1!


There is no other set of Haydn overtures at this level of comprehensiveness, nor does there need to be. This one is sensational. The 22 pieces included here span Haydn's entire career, from the early 1760s right up to the prelude to "Winter" from The Seasons (1801). In them we hear him move from the late-Baroque/early-Classical style to nascent Romanticism. It is the greatest stylistic evolution in the history of music because Haydn was not just a passive observer, but its prime mover. In addition to the overtures from all of the operas that survive, some of which wound up in the symphonies of the same period--most notably the one to La fedeltà premiata, which became the finale to "The Hunt" (La chasse) Symphony--you also get the introduction to The Seven Last Words and the overtures to the oratorios Il ritorno di Tobia and The Creation.

One of the things that makes Manfred Huss' performances so desirable is that he is one of the very few conductors who doesn't destroy ensemble balances by making the (unwritten) continuo part too prominent. The harpsichord gives a little extra rhythmic definition to the bass--but it doesn't overwhelm the strings or winds or become an independent solo voice. The fortepiano is, correctly, almost entirely inaudible. I'm still not convinced that conducting "from the keyboard" required anything like as much participation as we routinely hear today, but if you're going to do it at all then this is surely the right way. Bottom line: lively tempos, gutsy brass and timpani, perky winds, and stunning music make this former Koch release a huge two-for-the-price-of-one bargain on BIS.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

"Yevgeny Sudbin was born in St Petersburg and has lived in the UK since 1997. His previous outings on the BIS label, with recitals of Scarlatti (reviewed twice on these pages) and Scriabin have all been received to great acclaim, as has Sudbin’s concerto recordings for the same label...It is clearly apparent that Mr. Sudbin has established an enviable reputation, and for those to whom his name is already familiar, this release will be another shot in the arm of fine collections of piano recordings the world over.

There are quite a few rather special recordings of Haydn piano sonatas, but with 51 in the catalogue there are few pianists who would even consider tackling the whole lot, John McCabe on Decca being a distinguished exception, Jeno Jandó a highly competent if marginally less distinguished budget alternative on Naxos. There are a few fortepiano recordings both complete and ongoing, the Brilliant Classics one offers a different kind of Haydn to that on a modern grand piano, as does the excellent BIS complete set played by Ronald Brautigam. A pianist whose recordings have impressed me in recent years is Ragna Schirmer, and hers is the kind of cleanly unpretentious and witty playing with which I would compare Yevgeny Sudbin’s performances here. Schirmer gives Haydn every chance to shine and blossom in recordings which are crisp and full of colour, warm and clear at the same time, carrying us away with the music’s message, alive to the echoes of past music and the surprisingly potent emotional charge which can be surprising to find in this composer.

This is not so much a ‘better than’ kind of review, but I find it is useful to have a reference and a starting point from which to evaluate a new recording of an idiom which is familiar, even if the pieces don’t overlap. Yevgeny Sudbin has that lightness of touch which is essential for good Haydn, and especially good Haydn at the keyboard. The opening Allegro moderato movement of the Sonata No.47 in B minor says much about the rest of this programme, with richness of contrast and moments of drama fully exploited between music of almost naive simplicity. This simplicity is as important to Sudbin as every other aspect of this music. The thinning of texture to two-part lines which suggest harmony as much as proclaim it are all superbly rendered, sometimes held to the middle of the keyboard, sometimes turning the left hand into and orchestral bass section or a driving rhythmic leaping thing which serves multiple functions. The Minuet of this sonata is a development on this kind of purity of expression, and Sudbin knows exactly what he is doing, shaping phrases with elegance and a sense of proportion which seems to provide all answers: ‘yes, this is how it should sound.’

If I were to compare Sudbin and Schirmer then, by a small margin, Sudbin seems to explore depths ‘into’ or ‘within’ the notes a bit more, digging a little deeper where Schirmer sparkles and shines with a more twinkly kind of wit. This is all by a marginal degree however – Sudbin sparkles and Schirmer digs as well, just take the Finale: presto of this sonata for some crackling at the keyboard from Sudbin, with the minor key providing a reason for that extra layer of dark passion.

Following a minor key with a major, in this case the Sonata No.60 in C major is a good idea, and Sudbin lifts us high and carries us all the way in the opening Allegro, which is as full of smiles as a comedy turn by Michael Macintyre. His own booklet notes tell us something of how Sudbin approaches Haydn: “Is laughter the best medicine? I certainly hope so and would not hesitate to prescribe a healthy dose of Joseph Haydn twice daily.” Haydn’s humour is not to be found in heavy jokes, but in the very nature of the music itself. Any darkness is more often than not provided as a foil a contrast to those delightful moments of wit, and sometimes, as in this movement the ideas are so fun-filled that such moments need only be held for a few bars in the minor, or a segment of sublime beauty at 6:50 where the pedal suspends the music on a waft of mist for a mere moment. Sublime beauty is the essence of the Adagio of this sonata, and Sudbin traverses its measures with a good deal of freedom, creating a fascinating musical narrative in which you can become lost for what seems like a good deal longer than its 5:53 duration, but which you would gladly have last for a dreaming while longer. Sudbin has combined some of the original material from an earlier version of this movement, which was later revised to fit in with the outer movements of the sonata. I admire this kind of creative license and research based attitude, getting the best out of the music by exploring further beyond the notes on the page than would most musicians. The results certainly speak for themselves.

Elements of Scarlatti appear with the rippling passing ornaments thrown in with effortless ease by Sudbin in the Sonata No.53 in E minor. The contrast between the spectacular Presto and the almost invisible following Adagio could hardly be greater. Sudbin plays the Adagio with such transparency that light and air shine through the whole time: it’s like a single mote of dust floating down to land, slowly and gently, onto a crystal shimmering in a bath of late afternoon sunlight. The sunshine moods anticipate Beethoven in the final Vivace molto, with quicksilver harmonic twists and turns which are still pretty breathtaking even 230 years after they were conceived. About one minute in the mood shifts several gears at once, and we are taken on a journey far beyond expectations.

The Andante con Variazioni follows and refines the model of C.P.E. Bach, involving major and minor variations alternately. Some say this was written as a kind of memorial to Mozart for, although there are smiling moments, these are as poignant as they are jovial, and the mood of the music is certainly more tragic than comic. Refinement and poise, sensitivity and grace are all words which spring to mind for both the piece and this performance, which is given with admirable restraint, reserving the emotional core of the work for a penultimate outburst at 12:39.

To end the programme with a flourish, Yevgeny Sudbin gives us an encore in the form of his arrangement or ‘pianistic impression’ of the finale of Haydn’s String Quartet in D major, Op.64 No.5. “I find [the string quartets] all addictive. Just as his sonatas are incredibly communicative and chamber-music like, his chamber music strikes me as having a very pianistic potential.” Larking with Haydn is therefore Sudbin’s ‘affectionate tribute’ to the Great Master, and one which fits in very well with the vibrant nature of the release as a whole. In fact this whole disc is of course a fine tribute to Haydn, showing once again how alive and resonant his music even today. The entertainment factor is high with this disc, but superficial show is never the basis of the music or the playing. I’m a big fan of the St George’s pleasantly resonant acoustic, and it works very well for the solo piano and this music, with the SACD quality transplanting you straight to Bristol’s top chamber music location. Superbly recorded performances such as these do exactly what Sudbin hopes, seeing Haydn “taken much more seriously, in an unserious sort of way.”

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

In connection with the 2009 bicentenary of the death of Joseph Haydn, BIS Records and the Haydn Sinfonietta Wien have entered into a collaboration which will bear fruit in several recordings. The repertoire will mainly consist of rare works from Haydn’s œuvre, including music written for the stage, concert arias and orchestral works. Also included will be rereleases of the highly acclaimed recordings by Haydn Sinfonietta Wien and its conductor Manfred Huss of Haydn’s overtures, divertimenti etc. Providing an opportunity to explore less familiar aspects of the great composer, this six-disc set contains works written for the house of Esterházy, Haydn’s long-time employers, and for the King of Naples: from the Six Scherzandi, a set of ‘miniature symphonies’ probably composed in 1761, to the Eight Notturni for the King of Naples, composed around 1790.

Up until the late 18th century, almost all music was written for a specific person or institution, and often with a specific occasion in mind. But the works featured here are associated with their maker’s employer to an unusual degree: the Baryton Octets (and the Quintet Hob.X:10) were written for the private use of Prince Nikolaus Esterházy I, for performances that may have been heard by nobody but the musicians themselves. At such occasions, the part of the baryton, an instrument of the gamba family which was outmoded already at the time of composition, would be played by the Prince himself, while his favourite horn-player performed the highly virtuosic horn parts. Similarly, the ‘Concerti a Due Lire’ and the Notturni were commissioned by Ferdinand IV of Naples for his own consumption: a great lover of the ‘lira organizzata’ – a development of the hurdy-gurdy – he contacted a number of composers in order to expand the very limited repertoire of this highly unusual instrument. In fact, so unusual was the lira that Haydn, fearing that his music would never be played outside of the court in Naples, soon made versions in which the lira parts were replaced by other instruments. The result is to be heard here – glorious chamber music for various combinations of instruments, including flute, oboe, clarinet, horn, violin, viola, cello and double bass. Haydn Sinfonietta Wien’s acclaimed recordings of these works were originally produced and released by the Koch/Schwann label, with the exception of Notturni Nos 2, 4, 5 & 8, which, although recorded during the same period, were never released. For this collection the original recordings have been remastered by BIS Records.

This new release features Mozart’s Serenade in B-Flat major, K. 361 "Gran partita" and Haydn’s Notturno No. 8 in G Major, Hob. 11:27. Mozart’s largest and possibly most innovative instrumental work, Gran partita demonstrates the composer’s sensitivity to the varying colors of wind instruments. Harpsichordist and conductor Trevor Pinnock leads the Royal Academy of Music Soloists Ensemble for this album.

Review:

The veteran Baroque specialist Trevor Pinnock has made a strong series of Mozart recordings with his English Concert historical-performance orchestra. Here, with the more youthful Royal Academy of Music Soloists Ensemble, he achieves one of his most distinctive Mozart creations. The sizable Serenade in B flat major for 13 winds, K. 361, is a work that lacks obvious tunes and can, in many performances, collapse under its own weight. Pinnock forges an extremely distinctive reading that brings out the inner polyphony in this outwardly non-polyphonic work. His ensemble passages are dense blocks of sound that have an abstract, almost Webern-like quality. To hear it at its best, sample one of the pair of minuets (tracks 2 and 4), where any galant quality to the music is pushed deep into the background. It's hard to imagine this as a "serenade," but the truth is that the circumstances of composition of this work, like those of the last three Mozart symphonies, are unknown, and Pinnock's reading is as valid as any other. An added attraction is the little-recorded Notturno No. 8 in G major, Hob. 2/27, which brings down the curtain and lowers the tension a bit with a fine example of the mature Haydn's jocularity. An often fascinating example of Pinnock's way with Mozart.

– All Music Guide (James Manheim)