The series of the complete Mahler Symphonies with the Düsseldorf Symphonic under the baton of Ádám Fischer continues here with the release of the Symphony No. 9. Over the last two years Ádám Fischer’s Mahler recordings grew to a most successful recording project, winning the BBC Music Magazine Award, and the OPUS KLASSIK Trophy in Germany. Adam Fischer: "Mahler wrote his Ninth symphony in 1909, and it is about death. To be more precise it is about dying. And I know of no other language apart from German in which the words 'death' (Tod) and 'dying' have entirely different etymologies."

Ferruccio Busoni composed a significant number of works for two pianos throughout his life. While Bach’s pervasive influence is already evident in some of his early compositions including the Preludio e Fuga and Capriccio, it reaches its most complex and glorious expression in the definitive 1921 version of his Fantasia contrappuntistica. In the case of Schumann’s Op. 134 for piano and orchestra, Busoni simply reduced the orchestral part for a second piano. However, his skill as a master transcriber and composer is revealed in his brilliant arrangements of Mozart’s works, which also highlight the subtlety and originality of his style. Aldo Orvieto has recorded extensively, releasing more than 70 albums dedicated to composers of the 20th century on a wide variety of labels, many receiving critical acclaim. Aldo Ciccolini appeared on the Naxos release of Achille Longo’s PianoQuintet (Ciccolini’s teacher) with the Circolo Artistico Ensemble (8.572628), which was nominated for an International Classical Music Award (ICMA).Classical Lost and Found wrote that: ‘Considering Ciccolini’s intimate association with his mentor’s quintet, this would have to be considered a definitive performance.’ Marco Rapetti received his Diploma cum laude at the Accademia Perosi in Biella. Rapetti has been awarded many prizes in national and international competitions, and has released several recordings, including the complete piano works of Borodin, Liadov, Dukas and Debussy.

In his song settings, Korngold pursued the Romantic ideal and lavished considerable care and inventiveness on their composition. His seemingly effortless gift for melody is everywhere ap-parent in this second volume (Vol.1 is on 8.572027), whether in the early works or the songs from the 1940s, which would not sound out of place in an operetta or a Broadway musical. Also present, notably in the Drei Gesänge, Op.18, is an exciting, experimental approach to harmony that reflects the music of his most radical opera, Das Wunderder Heliane (8.660410-12).

REVIEW:

Already in the 1920s, as a young man, Korngold was composing in a powerfully vocal idiom, as can be heard in the four Lieder des Abschieds (Songs of Farewell). He did not become a prolific art song composer, but there are lieder dotted among his long list of compositions This second volume of his complete songs include Sonett fur Wien from 1953, just four years before his death. The mezzo, Sibylle Fischer, has the task of expressing so much sadness in the four Lieder des Abschieds, a mood she passes to the baritone, Uwe Schenker-Primus, in the Drei Gesange. He also has the task to hark on sorrow in the Lieder aus dem Nachlass, and we hear him to better effect in the forthright Five Songs. That Korngold wrote songs for the cinema surfaces with Morgen from the film The Constant Nymph, here recreated with a piano trio accompaniment, and sung with a smooth elegance by Britta Stallmeister. Together with the pianist, Klaus Simon, the vocal trio give us a rare chance to hear forgotten Korngold.

– David's Review Corner (SDavid Dento)

A 2020 Grammy nominee for best opera recording!

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

Also available on standard DVD
Based on Oscar Wilde’s story The Birthday of the Infanta, Zemlinsky’s single-act opera Der Zwerg is the tragic tale of a dwarf who is presented at court, falls in love with the beautiful Donna Clara, but is ultimately forced to see himself as others see him and to die of a broken heart. Preceded by Schoenberg’s Accompaniment to a Cinematographic Scene, Op. 34 (1930), Zemlinsky’s Romantic score is full of psychological intrigue. Is Der Zwerg a critique of society’s superficiality? Is it the composer’s self-portrait in his doomed affair with Alma Schindler? Director Tobias Kratzer’s stunning, transparent production creates a space in which each character is thrown into sharp relief in this ‘fine, noble and melancholy work’. (Bachtrack.com)

Grammy-nominated violinist Jennifer Koh and virtuoso pianist Shai Wosner play 20th century works by three remarkable Central European composers who intertwine folkloric influences with their own unmistakable originality. The album includes Leoš Janáček’s Moravian influenced Sonata for violin and piano, Béla Bartók’s impassioned Violin Sonata No. 1, and compelling miniatures by György Kurtág, including Tre Pezzi for violin and piano and selections from Signs, Games and Messages.

REVIEW:

Jennifer Koh studied with Felix Galimir at the Marlboro School and Jaime Laredo at the Curtis Institute; she won a silver medal at the 1994 International Tchaikovsky Competition (a year in which no gold was awarded) and has appeared with all the major American orchestras and many abroad. One may see her in action on YouTube, performing Paganini with the Chicago Symphony, displaying amazing aplomb and panache for an 11-year old, or for any age. She has tended to avoid the warhorses of the repertory, as her recordings—from Bach to Zorn—show.

In a brief discussion of this disc (also seen on YouTube), pianist Shai Wosner says “it’s intense music; we wanted to milk the most out of every bar.” Yet the Janá?ek performance strikes me as just the opposite: A silky violin and a gentle piano—in a warm, reverberant acoustic setting—emphasize the inherent beauty of this music rather than its intensity or its connections to folk music. Janá?ek’s spiky harmonies and jumpy, stabbing attacks are played down. Many listeners may prefer this Romantic-era approach, but it soft-pedals the composer’s essence, the character that makes him unique. For a more vibrant performance, try Gidon Kremer and Martha Argerich on DG, which John Wiser nailed (Fanfare 16:4) as having “a touch of Gypsy exoticism.”

György Kurtág has written what we call full-length works, but our attention has been focused on his many sets of miniatures. Signs, Games, and Messages (also the title of this disc) and Játékok (also “Games”) are both large collections of small pieces composed over many years. Are they completed? Only the composer could answer that question. The former are for “vn, va, vc, db in various combinations, as solos, duos, trios, qts.” (The New Grove II); these four are played here by the solo violin. Játékok are for piano, some with vocal additions—momentary noises rather than song or poetry. Tre Pezzi are for violin and piano; they are played together, as a three-movement work, whereas the other pieces are more or less randomly distributed around them (at the artists’ pleasure, of course), providing instrumental variety to these 27 minutes. But this variety may disrupt the accumulated effect of a Kurtág collection: a Mode CD has 24 Signs, Games, and Messages played by violist Maurizio Barbetti, and it is stunning—perhaps it is his magnificent performance, capturing every mood, every wry twist, that makes such a difference.

Koh and Wosner are superb in Bartók’s First Sonata. She expresses the full measure of the music without ever producing a single ugly or even awkward note; he is a powerhouse as well as a subtle presence. They do “milk the music” to its fullest intensity. It is astonishing that Koh’s elegant, liquid tones can be so assertive, matching Wosner at every step. There have been so many recordings of the Bartók sonatas, seemingly half of them by Gidon Kremer, often partnered, again, by Martha Argerich. Kremer takes a lighter view of the First Sonata than Koh—I am particularly partial to his 1972 Hungaroton recording with Yury Smirnov. Kremer’s playing has more edge than Koh, in two senses: He finds a special relish in the music, at the cost of some less than silky tones. I like the result, but listeners who prefer a purely beautiful violin should snap up this Cedille disc.

FANFARE: James H. North

Leoš Janácek composed the song cycle The Diary Of One Who Disappeared at a time when many people already considered him on a par with the other two masters of Czech national music, Smetana and Dvorák. The inspiration for the autobiographical ‘Diary’ came from a few enigmatic lines of poetry in two editions of the “Lidove noviny” (People’s Newspaper) of May 1916. Although this work is Janácek’s most important original song cycle, his keen interest in the folk songs and dances of his Moravian homeland resulted in a plethora of arrangements, making this music also accessible to the classical concert hall. These include the Six Folk Songs Eva Gabel Sang (Šest národních písní jež zpívala Gabel Eva) and the Songs from Detva (Písne detvanské). Quite unlike the songs of the ‘Diary’, which chiefly make reference to the Moravian dialect, the arrangements evince the typically ethnic-sounding music Janácek refined, so to speak, by adding to adaptations of the existing song lines a sophisticated piano part in the tradition of the great song compositions of the 19th century.

REVIEW:

The Diary of One Who Disappeared, written in 1921, is one of Janáček’s finest yet strangest song cycles. It is not, as the title would suggest, about secret police or undercover spies, but about a young man who falls in love with a dark gypsy woman who lives in the woods, has an affair with her that produces a child, and eventually runs away from home to go and live with her. Because of this, it is not sung just the tenor but also by a mezzo or contralto who does the part of the gypsy woman Zelka. Moreover, there is also a small chorus of three female voices who also sing in two of the songs. This, I think, must be the only reason why it is seldom performed, because the music is simply wonderful.

Young tenor Pavol Breslik has a very fine voice marred only by a prominent vibrato, albeit a steady and well-controlled one. He sings with energy and tosses out a few excellent high notes near the end of the cycle. Mezzo-soprano Ester Pavlu is also an excellent singer; she, too has a vibrato, but a more regular and contained one, and her vocal timbre puts you in mind of a gypsy singer. The three ladies who perform in the chorus all have pure, lovely voices, and pianist Robert Pechanec is also very fine.

This is an excellent representation of wonderful music.

-- The Art Music Lounge (Lynn René Bayley)