David John Pike, one of Canada's leading baritone singers, and the great English organist David Briggs present Mahler: Orchestral Songs - The Organ Transcriptions, an astounding new album offering renditions of three cycles of lieder by Gustav Mahler. The recording of these opulent scores on the phenomenal new Eule organ at the Konstantin-Basilika in Germany, has an immediate appeal. The organ's atonal spectrum and the wondrous acoustic of the basilica give a unique and thrilling dimension to the music. About this recording, Briggs wrote: "I was delighted with David Pike asked me to work with him to record these three wonderful Mahler song cycles. There are many pre-existing recordings with piano accompaniment, but the opportunity to register these opulent scores on the phenomenal new Eule organ at the Konstantin-Basilika, taking the music back to it's very core and recasting it anew, was something that had an immediate appeal..."

Having previously released recordings of Medtner's three piano concertos as well as three of Rachmaninov's five concertante works, Yevgeny Sudbin on the present disc combines solo pieces by the two friends and fellow-composers. From Sergei Rachmaninov's rich and varied production he has chosen six of the celebrated preludes, including 'Alla marcia' in G minor (Op.23 No.5) as well as the much-loved Prelude No.12 in G sharp minor from the Op.32 set. But Sudbin, who is a great admirer of Nikolai Medtner, opens his new disc with a generous selection of that composer's solo piano music. This section begins with the Prologue from Stimmungsbilder, the eighteen-year-old composer's Opus 1, and closes with Sonata tragica, composed shortly before Medtner left Russia in 1921, never to return. It also includes three of the thirty-some Fairy Tales that Medtner composed throughout his life. ‘No one tells such tales as Kolya’, Rachmaninov used to joke affectionately, and with these pieces Medtner created his own, unique genre. He himself used the Russian word skazka or German Märchen to describe them, and in his liner notes Yevgeny Sudbin suggests that the creative impulse came not only from folklore but also from such diverse sources as Push­kin, Shakespeare and even the Bible. As an interpreter of both these composers, Sudbin has proven himself both in concert and on disc, with previous recordings being named Disc of the Month in Gramophone, 'Essential Recording' in BBC Music Magazine and '10/10' on ClassicsToday.com, to mention just a few of the distinctions awarded them.

Review:

This is a wondrous disc. Sudbin seems to have an exceptional affinity with Medtner’s language. He brings both his heart and his head into play when performing these pieces. His head tackles and illuminates textures and harmonies that might seem opaque and knotty on a first study of the scores; his heart is then harnessed to convey the extraordinary sensibility, passion and thoroughly individual cast of melody that courses through the music.

Medtner’s natural companion on this disc is his intimate friend, Rachmaninov, from whose Preludes Opp 23 and 32 Sudbin draws six pieces. In all six of these preludes Sudbin deploys a luminous spectrum of timbre, a clear interpretative focus and a finely tuned imagination to encapsulate their very essence.

– Gramophone

Click here to view all 13 volumes of The Sibelius Edition



SIBELIUS Orchestral Works • Osmo Vänskä, cond; 1 Neemi Järvi, cond; 2 Jaakko Kuusisto (vn); 4 cond; 3 Leonidas Kavakos (vn); 5 Dong-Suk Kang (vn); 6 Marko Ylönen (vc); 7 Lahti SO; 1,3 Gothenburg SO 2 • BIS 1921 (6 CDs: 420:41)


Overture in E. 1 Scène de ballet. 1 Karelia: Complete music; 1 Overture; 2 Suite. 1 Impromptu. 2 Presto. 1 Press Celebrations Music. 1 Menuetto. 1 Coronation March. 1 March of the Pori Regiment. 1 Overture in a. 1 Romance in C. 1 Cortège. 1 Pan and Echo. 1 The Countess’s Portrait. 1 Violin Concerto: (1903–04); 1 (1905). 5 Rakastava. 1 2 Serenades. 2,6 2 Serious Melodies (2 versions). 1,2,6,7 6 Humoresques. 2,6 Academic March. 2 March of the Finnish Jäger Battalion. 1 3 Pieces, op. 96. 1 Suite mignonne. 1 Suite champêtre. 1 Suite caractèristique. 1 Morceau romantique. 1 Suite for Violin and Strings. 1,6 Andante festivo. 1 Processional. 1 Preliminary and alternative versions 1,3,4


Sibelius wrote a colossal amount of music for the orchestra. Already issued in BIS’s Sibelius Edition are boxes devoted to the tone poems (Vol. 1), theater music (Vol. 5, including the full scores plus the suites drawn from the composer’s incidental music), and voice and orchestra (Vol. 3); still to come, of course, is the volume of symphonies (Vol. 12, projected). That makes 21 or 22 well-filled CDs. Then there’s the present set, Vol. 8, which consists of everything else: works for violin and orchestra (about two CDs), music for patriotic pageants (one-and-a-half discs), and various occasional pieces, suites, and other works that don’t fit any of the above categories. The Sibelius quote with which annotator and project advisor, Andrew Barnett, begins his program notes could well serve as an epigram for the entire project: “I am myself a man of the orchestra. You must judge me from my orchestral works.”


Most of the contents of this set were first issued on single CDs: the Karelia music on BIS 915, the Press Celebrations Music on 1115, the two versions of the Violin Concerto on 500, the remaining works for violin and orchestra on 472, and various smaller works on 1265, 1445, 1485, and 1565. Items appearing here for the first time are the Karelia Suite, Menuetto, Romance, March of the Finnish Jäger Battalion , the three French-titled Suites, opp. 98 and 100, and the Processional , as well as several preliminary and alternative versions.


The sheer quantity of material here makes it most practical to discuss the works by category. Along with the Violin Concerto, the most important music in this set is that provided by Sibelius for two patriotic pageants during the Russian crackdown of the 1890s. Thinly disguised as benefits, the first in 1893 for education in the Viipuri district, the second in 1899 for the Press Pension Fund (the Russians had banned a Finnish newspaper), the Karelia and Press Celebrations pageants in reality served as nationalist rallies. The Karelia music, written the year after Kullervo and only two years after Sibelius’s first orchestral works, consisted of an Overture and music for eight tableaux; the Eighth Tableau quotes the song that would later become Finland’s national anthem. The Overture was published independently as op. 10, and three of the eight tableaux were adapted to form the Karelia Suite , op. 11. The remaining music—the entire score totals 50 minutes—is well worth hearing; particularly striking are the runic singing of Tableau 1 and the “siege” music of Tableau 6. In the runic singing, I prefer the earthy female voices used in Tuomas Ollila’s recording for Ondine to the bland baritones used here; otherwise, Vänskä’s version is more compelling. BIS includes Järvi’s energetic 1982 recording of the Overture (to avoid redundancy, one supposes), but gives the Suite in a new recording by Vänskä. I’m not sure why: there are plenty of fine recordings of the Suite already, and Sibelius collectors serious enough to consider this volume doubtless already have their favorite versions; mine is the RCA/Decca recording by Alexander Gibson, not currently available.


The Press Celebrations Music is almost as extensive, comprising a prelude and music for six tableaux; the final movement, “Finland Awakes,” with a new ending, became Finlandia , published as op. 26/7 in the expectation that the entire score would follow. In fact, only three other tableaux were published in revised form as Scènes historiques I , op. 25. The various stages of revision of Finlandia can be heard in Vol. 1 of the Edition; in the original, instead of the familiar apotheosis of the hymn tune, the ending consists of a series of bombastic fanfares. The Press Celebrations score is also included on the Ondine disc, but Vänskä is the clear winner.


The other major work here, of course, is the Violin Concerto. Kavakos and Vänskä give a compelling performance of the familiar 1905 revised version; it’s a performance of extremes, with the many technical challenges met head-on and the more lyrical music played with great sensitivity. Fans of Oistrakh on the one hand or Heifetz on the other won’t want to discard their favorites, but Kavakos offers yet another good option. The real story, though, is the 1991 version of Sibelius’s original score by the same artists; I believe it remains the only recording of the 1903–04 version. The comparison is intriguing; longtime Fanfare subscribers can find David K. Nelson’s detailed review in 14:6. It is impossible to discuss the two versions at length here, but two points should be made: first, the original is both longer and more difficult, including several fascinating passages that were later cut; second, as is almost invariably true, Sibelius’s final thoughts are his best. The revised version eliminates some interesting digressions and much extraneous detail, making it more cohesive and giving it more impact. The original version is still well worth hearing, not only because the comparison is so interesting, but also because it does include a good deal of music later eliminated. The two versions were originally issued in tandem, but here the original version is placed in an “appendix” on the last disc of the set, along with early or alternative versions of other works.


Kang and Järvi give sympathetic readings of the Two Serenades and the Serious Melodies ; the latter are also given, in the appendix, in Sibelius’s cello version by Ylönen and Vänskä. Only the Humoresques are a bit of a letdown. These superb pieces, written in 1917–18 when Sibelius was working on the Fifth Symphony under horrible conditions, are technically demanding and musically complex; they should be far better known, but their format—six short pieces totaling about 20 minutes—seems to have no niche in today’s concert programs. Kang and Järvi are less volatile, less exciting than Aaron Rosand on an ancient Vox LP. I have not heard the recordings of the violin-and-orchestra works by Tetzlaff or Kuusisto; Robert Maxham gave the former a mostly favorable review in 26:6, but the latter does not appear in the Fanfare Archive.


The many other pieces in this set can be addressed only briefly. Sibelius’s first orchestral works were the Overture in E Major and the Scène de ballet , both written in 1891; in 31:1, I preferred Järvi to Vänskä in the former, the reverse in the latter. The Overture in A Minor was written to fill out the program for the premiere of the Second Symphony; supposedly it was composed in a single evening. It certainly is far thinner in substance than the Symphony; its introduction, striking in its use of the trumpets, fails to go anywhere. The well-known Romance in C Major is given a rather perfunctory reading; Pan and Echo , a “Dance Intermezzo” sometimes grouped with the tone poems, is a striking miniature.


Rakastava (“The Lover”), a three-movement work for string orchestra with triangle and timpani written in 1911, the time of the Fourth Symphony, is a small masterpiece. It actually grew out of a much earlier choral work (thus perhaps explaining the anomalous opus number 11), and it was revised in 1912, Sibelius being dissatisfied with the arrangement. Again the final version is far superior to the earlier one, included in the appendix. Vänskä gives a sympathetic account.


Most of the remaining works are of minor importance; the Three Pieces , op. 96, and the three suites that followed, written between 1919 and 1922, are all essentially salon music; the Suite for Violin and String Orchestra, written in 1929 and thus one of Sibelius’s final compositions, is likewise not consequential. The Andante festivo , a 1938 arrangement of a work composed in 1922 for string quartet, is notable not only for its noble formality, but also because the recording of Sibelius’s live broadcast for the New York World’s Fair is the only surviving document of his conducting. That recording shows that almost everyone, including Vänskä, takes the piece too quickly; Vänskä’s version here has a timing of 5:10 versus Sibelius’s 6:55. Finally, the Processional is an arrangement of one of several songs Sibelius wrote for the Finnish Masonic lodge in 1927, again making it one of his last works.


The contents of this set range from some of Sibelius’s finest, most important works to some of the least significant products of his mature years. If you don’t have the single CD of the two versions of the Violin Concerto, or either of the pageant scores, or if you absolutely must have every scrap of orchestral music he created, this set’s for you. Collectors who have been acquiring each volume of the Edition as it is released will find this one of the more rewarding ones. Essential for Sibelians.


FANFARE: Richard A. Kaplan

In 1968, to celebrate his forthcoming 80th birthday the following year, Sir Adrian Boult was given by EMI the choice of a major work to record. This distinguished Elgar interpreter might have been expected to choose The Dream of Gerontius but his admirers had to wait a few more years for that. Instead he chose The Kingdom and it was through his fine, dedicated recording (EMI 7 64902-2) that I first came to know and love Elgar’s last oratorio.
 
Boult was a great admirer of The Kingdom and in a note accompanying the original release of his recording he included the following statement:
“I think there is a great deal in The Kingdom that is more than a match for Gerontius, and I feel that it is a much more balanced work and throughout maintains a stream of glorious music whereas Gerontius has its up and downs. Perhaps I was prejudiced by hearing a great friend of Elgar’s [Frank Schuster] (who was very kind to me in my young days) jump down the throat of a young man who made this criticism [that Gerontius was a finer achievement than Kingdom]: ‘My dear boy, beside The Kingdom, Gerontius is the work of a raw amateur’.” 

I wouldn’t go as far as Schuster but I know what Boult meant about Kingdom being a morebalanced work - perhaps because Elgar fashioned his own libretto. Also, I believe that by the time he composed Kingdom, six years on from Gerontius, Elgar had become an even more accomplished orchestrator and a more assured choral writer.
 
Boult’s version, though now starting to show its age sonically, remains a benchmark. Since it appeared there have been two more recordings. One was a sumptuously engineered Chandos set from Richard Hickox (CHAN 8788/9). The other, which I have not heard, was made for RCA Red Seal by Leonard Slatkin but I suspect is no longer available. Sadly, that fine Elgar conductor, Vernon Handley, never had the opportunity to record the work.
 
Every since I reviewed his superb recording of Gerontius I have been hoping that Sir Mark Elder might make a recording of Kingdom and now, here it is. Unlike his Gerontius, which was recorded under studio conditions, this is taken from a single live concert performance. ‘Live’ recordings often include a few edits from rehearsal. I don’t know if that happened here but if it did the edits are completely undetectable and, in fact, I’m pretty sure that what we have here is a single, unedited performance; that’s what it sounds like. Those who worry about applause on CDs can be reassured; unlike Elder’s recent recording of Götterdämmerung applause is absent here.
 
One thing I should say at the start is that if you buy this recording for no other reason - and there are many reasons why you should buy it - do so in order to hear the orchestral playing. That may be an odd thing to say about a choral recording and in saying it I do not mean in any way to disparage the vocal contributions. However, when Elgar wrote The Kingdom he was at the height of his very considerable powers as an orchestrator and his colourful and resourceful orchestral scoring is a major element of this score. I think the composer would have rejoiced to hear his music so magnificently played as it is here by the Hallé. Their playing is truly world class and a vivid testament to the achievement to date of their Music Director, Sir Mark Elder. The playing radiates assurance and a familiarity with Elgar’s idiom. The strings consistently play with richness and flexibility while the woodwind has great finesse. Best of all, the brass section possesses splendid power and authority but, schooled by Elder, this is never overdone. One small example will suffice. Towards the end of Part III, beginning five bars after cue 120 in the Novello score, the brass nobly play the ‘New Faith’ motif (CD 1, track 9, 4:25). In the Hickox recording this is delivered fortissimo and it’s rather grandiose as a result. Elder, like Boult, has noticed that the marking is only forte and the consequent restraint in both recordings is more effective.
 
The LPO plays excellently for Boult on his recording while the LSO is on refulgent form for Hickox. However, I feel that the Hallé surpass both their rivals. They may not be recorded as vividly as the LSO - I’ll comment about the respective recordings later - but they are no less impressive. Also, I feel that Hickox has a tendency to underline points in the score. This rather impedes the natural flow of the orchestral playing in a way that is absent from either Boult’s or Elder’s performances though both of these conductors - and their respective players - consistently display admirable attention to Elgar’s copious markings.
 
The Hallé Choir is by no means put in the shade by their orchestral colleagues. From the very start they sing with great confidence and impressive tone. It’s evident that they’ve been scrupulously prepared by their guest Director, Tom Seligman. I particularly appreciated the dynamic range of their singing. They are capable of producing very exciting loud singing where Elgar requires it but their quiet singing is just as noteworthy. The precision and attack that they bring to the music is excellent throughout, as is the clarity of their diction and altogether I think the choir’s contribution is top-class.
 
The four soloists take respectively the roles of the Blessed Virgin Mary (soprano), Mary Magdalen (mezzo), St John (tenor) and St Peter (baritone). Of these, it is the role of St Peter that is the most prominent though to the soprano falls the very best music in the whole work, the aria, ‘The sun goeth down’.
 
The tenor role is not easy to present. It has its dramatic moments but it is primarily lyrical. In fact, I think Elgar portrayed St. John as The Comforter among the Apostles, and certainly as a more reflective character than St Peter. The challenge to the tenor soloist is to sing the role with sufficient impact but without straying into vehemence, which was the main reason why I thought Adrian Thompson was miscast in the role at a Three Choirs Festival concert this summer. Arthur Davies, for Hickox, sings with ringing assurance but, I think, misses some of the humanity for which the role calls. Alexander Young (Boult) is the exemplar in this part and I don’t think John Hudson matches Young. For the most part he sings reliably, though there were a couple of occasions on which he seemed to approach important high notes from below. However, to my ears he doesn’t have the same lyrical grace and ease that Young brought to the music.
 
The mezzo role of Mary Magdalen is sung by Susan Bickley, who so impressed me in Mahler’s Second Symphony at the Three Choirs Festival this summer. She makes a fine job of this role too, singing with warm tone and great clarity throughout. I’d say she’s as good as the excellent Yvonne Minton (Boult) and I prefer her to Felicity Palmer (Hickox). She blends well with Clare Rutter in the fresh, lightly scored duet that forms Part II of the work. Later, she has a couple of very important narrative passages. One such is at the start of Part III (“And suddenly, there came from heaven”). Here she’s dramatic and exciting, rising to a thrilling top G sharp. Further on in the work, she’s just as involving in the narration at the start of ‘The Arrest’ (Disc 2, track 3).
 
That narration ushers in the great soprano aria, ‘The sun goeth down’. This is a huge test for the soprano soloist, who has to begin and end the aria in a mood of prayerful contemplation but must rise to great dramatic heights in the central section. Margaret Price (Boult) is peerless here, setting standards that I’ve never heard matched on disc or live. In the outer sections of the aria her singing is rapt, supported with great sensitivity by Rodney Friend (I think), playing the luminous solo violin part. In the middle of the aria the dramatic fervour that Price brings to the music elevates it to the highest level. I’m afraid Margaret Marshall (Hickox) doesn’t match this accomplishment at all. There are some instances of wayward pitching on sustained notes at the start of the aria and, beside Miss Price, she sounds a bit squally in the central section. 
Clare Rutter may not quite equal Margaret Price but she makes a fine job of this aria. I’d have liked her to sing the opening phrases just a little more softly - especially after Lyn Fletcher has prepared the way so beautifully with a lovely account of the violin solo - but overall her delivery of the more inward passages of the aria shows pleasing sensitivity. When the dramatic intensity of the music picks up she responds with very committed singing. At cue 159 (“The Gospel of the Kingdom”) (disc 2, track 4, 4:55) she’s really fervent yet within a few moments she’s fined things down to produce an exquisite pianissimo on the word “Jesus” (5:57). This is a distinguished piece of singing, which means that the aria is a high spot, as it should be. This is the most important contribution that Elgar gives to his soprano but elsewhere Miss Rutter’s singing is very good, not least in the afore-mentioned duet with Susan Bickley.
 
The key solo role in The Kingdom is the baritone part, here entrusted to Iain Paterson. He sings well and with authority. Once again, the Boult recording sets the benchmark for John Shirley-Quirk is quite magnificent in the role, singing with a marvellous combination of controlled intensity and tonal richness. For Hickox, David Wilson-Johnson does very well without surpassing Shirley-Quirk. I enjoyed Iain Paterson’s singing very much. He brings intelligence to the role and, as I’ve already said, authority. His crucial, long solo in Part III, built around the ‘New Faith’ theme, is a cornerstone of the work and Paterson doesn’t disappoint. He delivers this and his other solos with conviction and at every turn his diction is clear. 
 
I had hoped that Sir Mark Elder would prove an authoritative interpreter of The Kingdom and indeed he does. Several things mark out his interpretation. One is an impressive control of pace and structure. That, I suppose, is no surprise given his pedigree as a fine operatic conductor. Another is his attention to detail, respecting Elgar’s copious and vital markings in the score. That, again, should be no surprise to anyone who has heard his previous excellent Elgar recordings. He also demonstrates a great understanding of the score, ensuring that the sentiments it expresses are given their due weight but never letting the music sound sanctimonious. It seemed to me that his choice of tempi was, almost without exception, excellent. Elder displays a mastery of the score that is comparable with Boult’s and he doesn’t indulge in any of the over-emphatic point-making that slightly mar Hickox’s otherwise impressive reading. To cap it all, this is a live recording so we can benefit from the sweep and electricity of the occasion.
 
I should mention the quality of sound in the respective recordings. The Boult recording was made in Kingsway Hall by Christopher Bishop and Christopher Parker. It’s a very good recording but it is now over forty years old and it hasn’t got the same degree of presence and inner clarity as its two more modern rivals. The Chandos recording for Hickox was made in St Jude’s Church, London by Brian and Ralph Couzens. The sound has great presence, indeed punch, and in many ways it’s a splendid achievement. The sound can be thrilling and, as usual with Chandos, a great deal of detail is revealed. However, playing all three recordings on the same equipment and without adjusting the controls made me think that perhaps the fullness of the Chandos sound was just a bit too much of a good thing at times.
 
The engineering team behind this new Hallé recording is exactly the same one that produced Elder’s warmly received recording of Götterdämmerung. I haven’t yet had the time to do more than sample that Wagner recording though what I’ve heard has impressed me. I’m certainly very impressed indeed by this new Elgar recording. It seems to me to present a nicely truthful concert hall balance. The soloists are given a properly prominent position in the aural picture without one feeling that they’re artificially close. The choir, though behind the orchestra is reported with presence while the orchestra is in excellent balance with both the choir and the soloists, allowing one to appreciate their superb playing without feeling that the orchestra is too dominant.
 
It only remains to say that the notes are by the doyen of Elgar commentators, Michael Kennedy, who provides a succinct but completely satisfying note about the work and a good synopsis of the action.
 
I hope that this fine new recording of The Kingdom will enhance the reputation of this marvellous work. It contains a great deal of quintessential Elgar, not least ‘The sun goeth down’. And much of Part III, from the start of St Peter’s extended aria (‘I have prayed for thee’) to the end of that movement, is top-drawer Elgar. The ending of Part III never fails to move me, especially when it’s done as superbly and convincingly as is the case here. As I said earlier, I might not go as far as Frank Schuster in evaluating the respective merits of Gerontius and Kingdom but I feel that Kingdom has been unfairly in the shadow of Elgar’s earlier choral masterpiece so it’s a cause for rejoicing that this splendid new Hallé account is now available.
 
Elder has already given us a recording of the Prelude to The Kingdom as a filler to his recording, with Thomas Zehetmair of the Violin Concerto. That was a different performance of the Prelude, set down in 2005. Reviewing the disc William Hedley said that Elder’s account of the Prelude made him want to hear the complete oratorio again. Well, now he can and I hope he’ll enjoy it as much as I have. With this excellent recording Sir Mark Elder further enhances his reputation as the finest Elgar conductor currently before the public. I hope he will go on before too long to give us a much-needed new recording of the companion oratorio, The Apostles. Can I also enter a plea that the Hallé’s evolving Elgar Edition will encompass the shamefully neglected Spirit of England, of which I’m sure Sir Mark would be a fine interpreter?
 
Sir Adrian Boult’s recording of The Kingdom must retain its place as a reference performance, not least because it has the finest quartet of soloists that I’ve ever heard in the work. However, this new Elder interpretation is a worthy rival and should be heard by all Elgar enthusiasts. It is certainly the pre-eminent digital account.
 
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

Also available on standard DVD

Andris Nelsons conducted the Lucerne Festival Orchestra for the third time in August 2015, the orchestra’s second summer without founder and guiding spirit Claudio Abbado. The first half of his concert was already a highlight: the baritone Matthias Goerne seemed completely at home in a selection of songs from Des Knaben Wunderhorn. His warm, dark voice allows him to capture the somber and tragic atmosphere of this music like no one else. Its shaded timbre is most perfectly suited to the work’s melancholy and nocturnal moods, where one can directly experience how an artist of this caliber can bring music to the edge of the abyss. The Lucerne Festival Orchestra, renowned for its unique Mahler sound, had last played Mahler’s Symphony No. 5 in the summer of 2004 with Abbado – a flowing, transparent, and ethereal interpretation. Nelsons finds a completely different approach to the work. His Mahler is fiery, expansive, and powerful. In spite of the introductory funeral march, his reading is more positive than tragic, radiating an intense vitality. It is breathtaking to observe the orchestra’s response to Nelsons’s energetic, physical, and emotional conducting style. The relationship between orchestra and conductor is one of giving and taking, nothing else.

Picture Format Blu?ray: NTSC 16:9, Full HD

Sound Formats Blu?ray: DTS HD Master Audio, PCM Stereo

Region Code: 0 (worldwide)

Running Time: 123:12 min

Disc Format: BD 25

Subtitles: German (Original), French, English, Japanese, Korean

Alexander Glazunov's Symphony No. 2 (completed in 1886, when the composer was 21) is distinguished by its quintessentially Russian thematic style, which like Borodin's juxtaposes "oriental" and "occidental" melodies. The Symphony's main theme, announced in a commanding unison statement at the first movement's opening, appears in all four movements in various guises, establishing the work's cyclic unity. Glazunov's motivic development technique stems directly from contemporary Russian practice (already he displays the mastery of orchestration and large forms that would characterize his later work), so any fan of 19th century Russian symphonic music will find much that is comfortably familiar here. However, even non-Russophiles will derive enjoyment from Glazunov's always ear-catching tunes, colorful orchestration, and dramatic sensibility (particularly in the outer movements). Tadaaki Otaka shows himself to be finely attuned to Glazunov's special sound-world and lavishes much care and affection on this music, leading the BBC Wales Orchestra in an enthusiastic and highly polished performance.


Glazunov's Mazurka in G major (1888) actually is a self-contained suite of dances (the dance suite was a popular form of the Russian National school) and points the way toward the imaginative and vibrant style of his later ballet scores. The orchestral fantasy From Darkness to Light was dedicated to Busoni, and it displays (in the darkness section) some surprisingly advanced harmonic devices (Glazunov reportedly had no sympathy for any modernist tendencies, at least later in his career). Out of this pushed-to-the-edge chromaticism emerge the pure tonal harmonies of light, as the work follows a rather obvious path of "transfiguration". Otaka and his forces are just as convincing in these two filler works, making the whole program quite enjoyable. BIS' vivid recording presents a naturally balanced sound picture with a wide dynamic range.
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

The orchestra relishes Delius’s contrasts.

It is a delight to welcome performances of two of Delius’s American-inspired works by forces from Florida, where Delius lived from 1892 to 1895. Although Sea Drift, a setting of a poem by Whitman, is overtly about an American subject, the music is more universal than specifically American. While the initial drafts of Appalachia were made in Paris the year after Delius left Florida - Marco Polo, Naxos’s sister label, once had a recording (8.220452) of this earlier version in their catalogues under the title of American Rhapsody - the work was very substantially expanded to the form we have it here some eight years later, long after Delius had returned to Europe.

I first heard Sea Drift in the original Beecham recording issued on a limited edition Delius Society release of four 78s (now on Naxos) - I still have them. Beecham’s account of the score remains a marvel of sympathetic identification with the spirits of both Whitman and Delius. Unfortunately all of his recordings - and there are a good many of them, from studio and live broadcasts, not all currently available - are in mono. This is a score which absolutely demands the atmosphere of stereophonic sound. Similarly Beecham never recorded Appalachia in stereo, and his last (mono) LP (reissued by Sony) suffered from a baritone who had seemingly been chosen for his ability to sing Danish for the coupled recording of the Arabesque rather than any ability to sing sympathetically in English for the closing ‘negro spiritual’ section of Appalachia. One cannot possibly accuse Leon Williams of sounding un-American, but the tone of his voice is nevertheless rather English and rather too polite. He is not helped by the rather close proximity of the microphone, which brings him closer than the rest of the performers rather than blending him into the whole. Bryn Terfel, in his Chandos recording of Sea Drift with Richard Hickox (coupled with the Songs of Sunset and Songs of Farewell), digs far more deeply into the meaning of the words than Williams does here. The emotion of the latter is too generalised, and his voice lacks the light and shade of Terfel or John Shirley-Quirk on Hickox’s earlier Decca recording.

Appalachia fares rather better in this reading. The orchestra relishes the contrasts in Delius’s set of variations, with a nicely winsome touch in passages such as the waltz variation at 19.57; Beecham allowed a very gusty breath of the ballroom to intrude here. Earlier they are beautifully atmospheric in the passage from 17.01 which recalls Delius’s Florida opera The magic fountain. The chorus is nicely distanced in their brief interjections in the earlier variations, and come into their own with the own variation at 27.50, when they appear to move closer. Unfortunately the close microphone placement given to Williams at 31.52 serves only to emphasise how precisely English is his diction, and the choir are now very far forward indeed, which brings a sense of stridency which is entirely foreign to the Delius idiom. The passage at 33.28 sounds uncomfortably like the closing titles for a Hollywood Western - not at all the area of America that Delius had in mind.

This Naxos disc duplicates exactly the contents of one of Richard Hickox’s earliest recordings of British music, issued originally on an Argo LP in 1980, with Shirley-Quirk at the peak of his form in the baritone solos, which is certainly a reading which deserves to be in any Delius collection - it remains available from Arkiv Music . The Naxos recording is more immediate in general sound than the analogue Hickox, but the latter has plenty of atmosphere and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra - many of whose members must have played this music under Beecham - respond with affection to Hickox’s somewhat slower tempos. Indeed Sanderling could sometimes be accused of hurrying, as at the baritone entry at 2.58 where the soloist sounds a bit hustled. It is important to keep Delius’s music moving, not allowing it to stagnate, but the flow can be maintained without undue haste; Sanderling shaves nearly four minutes off Hickox’s speeds in his earlier recording, almost a fifth of the whole duration of a fairly short work. Beecham, even with the constraint of 78 sides, was slower than this, and Delius always expressed his conviction that this conductor understood his music better than anyone else.

It is always a suspicion that when one knows a particular performance well one might be allowing nostalgia to colour reactions to a performance. To test this I played the recording of Sea Drift to a friend of mine who, although he knew and loved the poem, did not previously know the music at all. He like me vastly preferred Hickox, observing that although that performance was noticeably slower, it at the same time had a sense of purposeful motion that Sanderling lacked. He also actually preferred the more integrated sound of the older recording.

Naxos’s cover photograph by Giorgio Fochesato is particularly beautiful and appropriate, and the booklet commendably includes the complete texts of both works. The orchestra and chorus both perform superbly; it is nice to hear a really big choir sing this music - 137 singers are listed - as Delius would have expected in his earlier performances. They maintain pitch even in the most exposed passages of Sea Drift.

-- Paul Corfield Godfrey, MusicWeb International