BBC Music Magazine: Recording of the Year and Choral Winner of the year: 2013.

Performed beautifully. Everyone is on quite spectacular form.

The 2011/12 season was a memorable one for the Hallé and its Music Director Sir Mark Elder who was celebrating his twelfth season with the Manchester based orchestra. What was for me a rather uninspiring Beethoven cycle was overshadowed by three unforgettable performances that will serve to increase the Hallé Orchestra’s burgeoning international reputation. In November 2011 the Bridgewater audience were treated to John Adams’s Harmonium for chorus and orchestra (1980/81) a setting of poems by John Donne and Emily Dickinson. Next, in collaboration with the Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester, in April 2012 Sir Mark took the Hallé into the pit at the Lowry Theatre, Salford Quays for a spellbinding production of Bernstein’s feel-good musical Wonderful Town starring actress/singer Connie Fisher. Back home at the Bridgwater Hall on 5 May 2012 we were treated to this inspirational performance of Elgar’s The Apostles. Dedicated ‘ To the Greater Glory of God’ The Apostles is a large-scale two part oratorio for soloists, choir and orchestra written in the English choral tradition. Elgar selected his own texts from the Bible and the Apocrypha. Elgar himself introduced the oratorio at the Birmingham Triennial Festival in 1903.
 
I was present that Saturday May evening reporting on The Apostles for Seen and Heard International and this review is essentially based on that report. Together with a number of friends we had travelled down to witness a performance that will live long in the memory. Thankfully the Hallé’s performance under Sir Mark was recorded together with a rehearsal for patching purposes. As expected the performance was taken extremely seriously and far more hours than normally allocated for rehearsal were clocked up.
 
Prior to the start there was an uplifting feeling of keen anticipation in the packed hall. It’s a shame that the listener not present on the night cannot also share that sense of expectancy. Eschewing histrionics, one hardly noticed Sir Mark on the podium, just getting on with the job of directing this substantial work. This was a highly assured account all the more impressive given the task of bringing the massed forces together in a coherent way. I particularly admired the unerring control of the massive dynamic extremes with tempi that felt judicious. Potency and beautifully incisive playing demonstrated the orchestra’s ascendant prowess.
 
In radiant voice the choirs made a significant contribution to the evening’s success. This was matched in passionate commitment by the sextet of well chosen soloists. Standing out magnificently was Jacques Imbrailo as Jesus. He solidly projected his richly mellow and expressive timbre with immense purpose. A fine choice as the First Narrator/John was Paul Groves who was notable for his steady bright and clear diction. Brindley Sherratt’s Judas was well powered, polished and authoritative. Although acceptable bass-baritone David Kempster in the role of Peter at times became rather swamped by the choir and orchestra and would have benefited from a greater amplitude and clearer diction. Rebecca Evans as the Angel Gabriel/Virgin Mary was bright with a moderately warm sound and sang with affecting piety. Evans’ vibrato was noticeable but never intruded. Mezzo-soprano Alice Coote as Mary Magdalene/Second Narrator has a substantial amount of text to sing. She was in glorious, reverential voice, well projected throughout.
 
Right from the orchestral Prelude to the scene The Calling of the Apostles the choir intoning the words from St. Luke’s Gospel To preach the acceptable year of the Lord sent a shiver down the spine. We were left in no doubt but that we had embarked on a visionary journey. The programme notes for the concert asserted that a genuine shofar player had been found. This caused much discussion amongst many audience members and subsequently on internet message boards. If people expected a traditional Hebrew Ram’s horn instrument that wasn’t what soloist Bob Farley played. From my seat it looked like a crossbreed of some sort of long straight brass trumpet that I would guess was around 6ft long becoming slightly angled just before the start of the bell. Nevertheless the playing, by the soloist positioned at the side of the hall, made a splendid impact both sonically and theatrically. The shofar can be heard to memorable effect at the start of CD 1 track 3.
 
At the beginning of Part 2 the solemn orchestral Introduction to the scene of The Betrayal of Christ was remarkable, with the doom-laden brass being lightened by the strings and winds then darkening again with all the drama of a Puccini opera. Depicting the crucifixion, the disturbing Golgotha section featured weighty orchestral textures especially the shadowy-toned brass and percussion. The electrifying final section The Ascension of Christ to heaven in his resurrected body required all the forces uniting in a colossal Alleluia. This was one of the most moving things I’ve experienced in classical music.
 
Released on the Hallé’s own label I found the sound quality of the Hallé/Elder disc highly satisfying. To the infuriation of many audience members an errant clapper virtually instantaneously at the end of both halves ruined the special moments of contemplation. Thankfully I can report that the patching session has successfully removed the unwanted racket. Michael Kennedy’s booklet notes are as authoritative as I would expect from this Elgar scholar. It’s good to see that a full libretto is included in the booklet. Some incorrect numbering against the part two text is the only glitch I found with this issue.
 
The rival recordings of The Apostles include the digitally re-mastered analogue 1973/74 account from the Kingsway Hall, London under the baton of Sir Adrian Boult with the London Philharmonic Orchestra and Choir on EMI. Then there’s the 1990 digital recording from St. Jude on the Hill, Hampstead, London by the London Symphony Orchestra and Chorus under Richard Hickox on Chandos. Both are very fine performances. Of the two I favour the Boult/EMI for its splendid singing and sense of reverential awe. On the down-side Boult’s singers may sound dated to some listeners and the LPO’s distinctive bottom-heavy sound can be off-putting. On balance the recording of The Apostles that I will reach out for the most will be this new Hallé release. It’s performed beautifully throughout and achieves an otherwise elusive spirituality. Everyone is on quite spectacular form. If proof were needed of the importance of The Apostles then this release is the evidence.
 
-- Michael Cookson, MusicWeb International

Joseph Haas' Christmas Liederspiel, Christnacht, combines Bavarian and Tyrol folk tunes into an oratorio. His Marian Hymns based primarily on texts from the 13th to the 18th centuries. The composers of the other various carols on this release are either pupils or contemporaries of Haas.

This historic broadcast recording was always counted as one of the best recordings of this opera. With the best singers of the Frankfurt opera after WW II like Heinrich Bensing, there was always a demand for a release of this recording. Thanks to a collector who made a direct master copy of the original broadcast tape in the early 50's, Walhall is able to release it in great sound.

Gabriel Feltz writes: "The choral symphonic poem "The Bells" was written during Rachmaninoff's last years in Russia (first performance 1913, emigration 1917). It is, without a doubt, note- worthy that the Russian translation of a poem ("The Bells") by Edgar Allan Poe was used. I know of no other famous Russian composition of that time which is based on an American text. Rachmaninoff conducted the first performance in Saint Petersburg himself. In spite of already having a very successful career as a soloist behind him, composing was always more important to him than playing concerts. Respighi wrote to Rachmaninoff asking to be allowed to orchestrate some of the Etudes. Rachmaninoff helpfully suggested titles for some of the pieces, which provided a degree of insight with regard to their content. It is quite interesting that these titles are not included in the original piano version. In a way this somehow reveals Sergei Rachmaninoff's inner world, something which he had not been willing to divulge earlier.

Richard Strauss spent nearly a decade and a half writing Eine Alpensinfonie, a work describing the impressions of a mountain hike with such clarity that the score could almost be considered film music sans film. Don Juan's premiere (1889) established the reputation of the 24-year-old Strauss as the most important composer since Richard Wagner. Francois -Xavier Roth, one of the most charismatic and enterprising conductors of his generation, took on the role of Principal Conductor of the SWR Sinfonieorchester Baden-Baden und Freiburg in September 2011.

As a piano trio, we find it particularly interesting to discover music that is seldom recorded or performed. We enjoy the artistic challenge of interpreting such works using our own individual approach and it enables us to offer interesting and diverse programming. The idea of uncovering and recording lesser known pieces for our first album led us to include a wonderful early work by George Enescu, his Trio No. 1, along with the youthful Benjamin Britten's Introduction and Allegro. Finding our own voice with these scores, free from preconceived musical ideas or influences, is a process that inspires us. It is an exploration that we regard as an invaluable experience. Both Enescu and Britten found inspiration through Ravel's music and this in turn led us to his Piano Trio in A minor, hailed as one of the great masterworks of the 20th century... (Amatis Trio)

Vasily Petrenko and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra continue their critically acclaimed Elgar project with Sea Pictures and The Music Makers, featuring Kathryn Rudge as soloist. Sea Pictures is one of the composer's most popular works, and as an orchestral song cycle, stands alongside those by Mahler and Strauss. The Music Makers has had a more troubled history. Elgar worked on it on and off from 1903 until it's premiere in 1912. Both the words and music received criticism. But for Elgar it was a personal work. He wrote on the manuscript, "This is the best of me; for the rest, I ate, and drank, and slept, loved and hated, like another. My life was as the vapor, and is not; but this I saw, and knew; this, if anything of mine, is worth your memory."

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REVIEW:

This glowingly idiomatic account of Sea Pictures can only enhance Rudge's growing reputation. With her sensitivity to the text, freshness of timbre and secure vocal technique, she once again proves herself a strongly intuitive interpreter of this repertoire. Under Petrenko’s malleable lead the joint RLPO forces give of their fervent, articulate best. No question about it, Petrenko’s abundantly communicative conception demands to be heard.

– Gramophone

Martin Jones has been one of Britain’s most highly regarded solo pianists since first coming to international attention in 1968 when he received the Dame Myra Hess Award. The same year he made his London debut at the Queen Elizabeth Hall and his New York debut at Carnegie Hall, and ever since has been in demand for recitals and concerto performances on both sides of the Atlantic. He is a prolific recording artist and his many major projects include the complete solo piano works of Mendelssohn, Brahms, Debussy, Grainger, Stravinsky, Korngold, Szymanowski, Granados, Guastavino, Mompou, Ernesto Halffter, Joaquin Nin, Has Gál, Jean Françaix, Jean Roger-Ducasse, and Alan Richardson. On the present release, Jones explores the works of Spanish pianist and composer Enrique Granado,

No, it’s not the title of new horror flick. Swanwhite and The Lizard remain two of Sibelius least known incidental scores, here played in their complete original versions. As is often the case with these works, the suite that Sibelius made from his Swanwhite music is far more satisfying then the original score. The augmented orchestration for the suite, especially the important part for harp, adds tremendously to the music’s appeal, especially in a piece where that instrument gets mentioned all over the place but had to be left out of the theatrical version for reasons of economy (the original used only thirteen instruments, but the strings are intelligently padded even here). Still, there are plenty of extended bits as initially conceived and the music itself is really, really lovely.

Sibelius never made a suite out of The Lizard, and for good reason. It would have been nearly impossible. The score consists of two movements: a three-minute Adagio followed by a twenty-two minute Grave, both scored for strings. There’s very little actual music here: it’s all atmosphere and repetition of brief melodic patterns. It is, in short, background music, probably perfect for its intended use, and pretty good at home too if you need something moody that never forces you to pay attention. And as always with Sibelius’ string writing, Segerstam’s performance is gorgeous. It’s not often recalled that Segerstam was himself a violinist of considerable ability in his youth, and he pays a great deal of attention to the orchestral string sections in all of his recordings, to excellent effect.

A Lonely Ski Trail and The Countess’ Portrait are both poetic recitations for narrator and strings. I truly loathe spoken text over music, but Riho Eklundh has a very pleasant, mellow voice, and I find Swedish fun to listen to because it sounds like it ought to be in English but, obviously, it isn’t and you’re left wondering why what you are hearing makes no sense. For example, the opening line of A Lonely Ski Trail, “Ett ensamt skidspar” (with a little circle thing over the “a” in “skidspar”), sounds just like someone saying in English “And in some cheap sport.” It’s fun. So is this beautifully played and recorded ongoing series more generally.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Leif Segerstam directs all this material with unhurried authority, abundant perception and heaps of character. Likewise, his willing Turku colleagues are with him every step of the way. Admirable production values and useful notes, too. A job well done.

- Gramophone Magazine

Lorin Maazel and the Philharmonia Orchestra perform Mahler’s Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Symphonies. This four-disc box is the second set in a series that will encompass Mahler’s Nine Symphonies, featuring live orchestral recordings from London’s Royal Festival Hall of Maazel and the Philharmonia’s much-lauded Mahler Cycle.

This is "as good a performance and interpretation - and technical recording - of Also sprach Zarathustra as one would expect to find" (Gramophone). Inspired and inspiring, Richard Strauss's Also sprach Zarathustra is one of a series of tone poems which pushed the form to it's limits. The famous opening introduces a musical interpretation of Friedrich Nietzsche's philosophical treatise, taking Zarathustra on a complex search through human aspirations. Based on an incident in Strauss's own life, the suite from Intermezzo distills domestic strife and misunderstanding into four jocular vignettes.

A 2020 Grammy nominee for best opera recording!

Also available on Blu-ray

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)

To witness a performance of Delius’s A Mass of Life, arguably his supreme creative achievement, is to look into the heart of the composer and his Nietzsche-inspired world. Moreover, this ravishing music, written between 1898 and 1905, represents Delius at the height of his powers, when musical ideas seemed to pour out of him at a time when he had finally learned to assimilate, in an entirely individual, not to say maverick manner, a confluence of modernist styles embracing Grieg, Wagner, Strauss, Charpentier and Debussy.

There is no doubt from the vivid opening choruses of Parts 1 and 2 of this recording (and what openings!) that the message of the work is a life-affirming one. There is a dynamic momentum to the tempi which perfectly evokes Zarathustra’s ruling passion, the Will of Man, and there is a richness to the orchestral sound which adds to the sense of muscularity. The chorus negotiate Delius’s often awkward vocal intervals with great skill and the intonation is virtually flawless. Just occasionally the sheer weight of the orchestral sound, which is quite forward on this recording (more so than Hickox), is apt to overwhelm the voices but this is a minor distraction.

Hill brings energy and élan to the third section, ‘In deine Auge’ (for me perhaps the most exhilarating section of Part 1), where the parallel with the end of Act 2 of Die Meistersinger is almost palpable and where the most unusual example of a Delius fugue (!) is given life, vigour and meaning.

Alan Opie, who has the lion’s share of the solo music in the work, is almost Wotan-like in his performances. From his first Nietzschean dance he is majestic and brings out of the score that vibrant, heady, Teutonic contemporaneity with which Delius had clearly become enthralled at this point in his career. Opie’s singing of what is effectively the role of Zarathustra has immense authority and his impressive range (up to high G) is ideal for Delius’s onerous vocal demands.

Andrew Kennedy, Catherine Wyn-Rogers and Janice Watson also offer fine lyrical interpretations of their solo parts and the choral accompaniments are allowed to intermingle subtly as an extension of the orchestra. The BSO are on fine form too, and special mention needs to be made of the haunting horn-playing in the introduction to Part 2 (‘On the Mountains’), a sound which sums up so much of Delius’s nature music.

This is a must for any Delius Liebhaber and, with the added bonus of the late Prelude and Idyll, a marvellous starting point for anyone new to Delius’s unique but compelling art.

-- Jeremy Dibble, Gramophone


DELIUS A Mass of Life. Prelude and Idyll1 • David Hill, Cond; 1Janice Watson (sop); Catherine Wyn-Rogers (mez); Andrew Kennedy (ten); 1Alan Opie (bar); Bach Ch; 1Bournemouth SO • NAXOS 8.572861-62 (2 CDs: 118:19 Text and Translation)

A Mass of Life is quintessential Delius, musically and existentially, composed over 1904–05 in the first great rush of his maturity. From the bounding affirmative choruses to the breathtakingly sustained nature contemplations, from the melancholy to the ecstatic, the Mass of Life traces and forecasts the gamut of Delian affect with a concision, fullness, and abundance he might rival but never achieve so comprehensively again. Unless I’ve missed something, this is but the fourth recording of the work since Beecham’s nonpareil 1952 account. Though its musical demands are daunting—if nowhere near as challenging as those of Mahler’s “Symphony of a Thousand,” with which it invites comparison—the primary bar to frequent performance is its text, drawn by Delius’s friend Ernst Cassirier largely from the Dance Songs of Nietzsche’s Also sprach Zarathustra. For those coming in late, one recalls the oft-quoted passage in Eric Fenby’s Delius as I Knew Him: “When, one wet day … he was looking for something to read in the library of a Norwegian friend … and had taken down a book, Thus Spake Zarathustra—a book for all and none—by one Friedrich Nietzsche, he was ripe for it. The book, he told me, never left his hands until he had devoured it from cover to cover. It was the very book he had been seeking all along, and finding that book he declared to be one of the most important events of his life. Nor did he rest content until he had read every work of Nietzsche that he could lay his hands on”—to which Fenby, a devout Catholic, adds—“and the poison entered his soul.” For listeners and performers today it may still be something of a jolt to find, in place of the supplicating Kyrie that the unfortunate term “Mass” leads one to expect, a glowingly charged hymn to the Will, “dispeller of need, my own necessity,” followed by Zarathustra’s brief praise of laughter (“My own laughter I pronounced holy”), succeeded by Zarathustra’s love duet with Life in a meadow filled with dancing girls, an archetypal encounter transpiring in a mythical dimension “beyond good and evil,” beyond place and time, crowned by the first, murmured, utterance of the Bell Song, the work’s central mystery. A Mass of Life may, of course, be enjoyed for its power and sensuous magic without reference to its text, but only to those nurtured on Nietzsche will it reveal its full import. Shrugging incomprehension of the text renders Benjamin Luxon’s Zarathustra, for Charles Groves (with the London Philharmonic Chorus and Orchestra), merely mellifluous, while Peter Coleman-Wright’s deadpan delivery for the late Richard Hickox—with the Waynflete Singers directed by today’s conductor, David Hill, and the Bournemouth Symphony Chorus and Orchestra—proves anesthetically workmanlike. When it appeared in 1997, I rated that reading, on Chandos, the best since Beecham’s (Fanfare 20:6). That honor goes now to the present offering. While Alan Opie does not efface memories of Bruce Boyce, for Beecham—whose delivery resonated from the nexus of Delius’s realization of Nietzsche—he teases the text gingerly, making a credible Zarathustra. In some numbers, Delius asks the soloists to share parts, with some of Zarathustra’s lines persuasively taken by Andrew Kennedy, and a portion of Life’s happily rendered by Janice Watson, though Catherine Wyn-Rogers’s beguiling, seductive Life recalls Monica Sinclair’s divinatory geste for Beecham. The choral work is beyond praise, though in Hill’s brisk approach the melting lyricism heard chez Beecham tautens and leaps.

Idyll is a late reworking of music from Margot la Rouge, composed in 1902 for the new opera competition offered by the music publisher Sanzogno. Though it failed to score and was not heard in Delius’s lifetime, it comes from the composer’s ripest years and contains gorgeous swaths of his richest utterance, which he salvaged in 1932, recomposing it to words by Whitman and making an extended love duet of it. Idyll has not lacked for vocally lustrous, persuasive performances submerging Whitman’s quaintness (“Behold me when I pass, hear my voice, approach, draw close, but speak not. Be not afraid of me”) in absolute conviction. Of major interest, the lovingly lingering 1981 account led by Eric Fenby—who took down the score from dictation by the blind, paralyzed Delius—features Felicity Lott and Thomas Allen (deleted Unicorn-Kanchana UKCD 2073). Meredith Davies’s still-available 1968 tilt at Idyll, with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, is made memorable by the divinatory partnership of Heather Harper and John Shirley-Quirk. In keeping with his go at the Mass of Life, Hill pushes the work a bit, spurring the impassioned moments to escalate from the pervasive tone of wistful elegy. Opie, as the anonymous man, is authoritatively resonant, in response to Janice Watson’s brightly edged soprano (touched by a bit of vibrato), with its gloriously amber lower register, buxomly filling the part of the nameless woman.

One caveat: In the headnote the title of the work is given per the album, but you will search the catalog of Delius’s works in vain for an orchestral Prelude. The work so designated is simply the first three minutes—an orchestral prelude, to be sure—of Idyll and has never, until now, been listed separately. The fake title generates a phantom work to bedevil buyers, scholars, and connoisseurs, and detracts from—rather than adding to—the program’s generosity.

Sound packs an immediate wallop making for occasional congestion. In the opening chorus, for instance, the leaping underlining of trombones and tubas becomes indistinct, overwhelmed by choral mass, and while one can pick out the glockenspiel, its function of festive accentuation is lost. In quieter passages, and in the capture of the vocalists, on the other hand, this upfront take is gratifyingly welcome. In German, Zarathustra’s pronouncements recall and parody the Lutheran Bible, in light of which the ostensibly stilted thee-ing and thou-ing of William Wallace’s singing translation—made for Beecham and used by him for all of his public performances (according to notes by Delius aficionado Lyndon Jenkins)—fall into place, if not quite into King James English. Whitman’s text is included.

In sum, a superb production and the grandest addition to the Delius discography in many years. Highest recommendation.

FANFARE: Adrian Corleonis