This performance goes right to the top. Not since the amazing mono Ancerl recording has there been a version of this work of such intensity, such expressive urgency, and (yes, believe it or not) such incredible orchestral playing. It's impossible to praise the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic enough: they put their London colleagues to shame. The cellos and basses have a dark, tactile presence in pianissimo not heard since the old Kondrashin Melodiya recording. The horns play the daylights out of their solos in the first and third movements, while Petrenko has the violins sustaining, articulating, and phrasing the climax of the first movement with a passion and grit that's beyond praise.

Indeed, as an essay in Shostakovich conducting alone this performance deserves an honored place in every collection. Petrenko has the players digging into the second movement with unbridled ferocity at an ideally swift tempo. He ferrets out every subtle detail of scoring in the crepuscular Allegretto while never permitting the music to drag. His finale has just the right manic high spirits, and he clarifies the DSCH motive in the timpani at the end better than anyone else ever has. It's all captured in gloriously vivid, present sonics by the Naxos engineers. Thrilling, perfect, essential--a magnificent achievement and hands down the modern reference recording.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Peerless musicianship.

This superb CD proves that time travel is possible. To listen to these outstanding performances by Ensemble Leones of Neidhart's beautiful music and witty, sophisticated, sometimes outrageous poetry is to be transported back eight hundred years to an incredible period in the history of music and civilisation in general. Everyone who cares about that heritage should hear this recording.
 
All the Neidhart songs in Leones' recital, both music and texts, are taken from the so-called Frankfurt Neidhart Fragment, dated to around 1300 and housed at Frankfurt-am-Main University. The eight surviving pages of a larger manuscript reveal - at least to the patient and trained eye of a scholar like Lewon - six songs by Neidhart, five with more or less complete melodies. This is the first complete recording and performance, made possible by Lewon's painstaking reconstruction of the surviving material, necessitating in one case the borrowing of appropriate melodies from elsewhere. The results may or may not be entirely authentic, but the songs are compellingly evocative and utterly convincing. The instruments employed by Leones are recent reproductions but they sound terrific, especially when played with the delicacy and intuition of Lewon and Romain.
 
Thanks to Lewon and his ensemble - whose ranks swell or shrink according to the current project, incidentally - 21st century audiences can enjoy Neidhart's peerless musicianship, specifically his maverick take on the generally more deferent Minnesang tradition. His Dörperlieder ('bumpkin songs') take the themes of the usual hohe Minne ('high love') - the courtly ideals of love from afar and chivalry - and transfer them to rough rustic settings. The real joke is on the gentry who laugh at the buffoonery and coarseness of the peasants in his songs - they are the implied object of Neidhart's insinuations and sarcasm.
 
It was a bold decision by Leones to perform the nearly ten-minute long song 'Ich claghe de blomen' without instrumental support - over 100 lines in nine stanzas - but such is the power of Neidhart's music and poetry that time flies past. In any case, the alternation of male and female voice, as well as the interpolation of purely instrumental items, makes listening to this recital as varied an experience as it is aesthetic.
 
The CD ends with a rather out-of-place song by Adam de la Halle, billed as a 'bonus track' and certainly sounding like an afterthought. The preceding song by the great Walther von der Vogelweide is at least no anachronism, but its inclusion is not really explained in the booklet.
 
As the notes explain, the German of Neidhart is not strictly Middle High German (MHG) but a Low version of the same, reflecting where the texts were written, and explaining why some of the sounds are reminiscent of modern Dutch. At any rate, Neidhart's language should prove at least as intelligible to modern Low German speakers as Geoffrey Chaucer's is to those familiar with today's English.
 
On the subject of pronunciation, both Marc Lowen and Els Janssens-Vanmunster sound entirely authentic, and their excellent diction only heightens the listener's joy. Their singing style is folk-like but not 'rustic', emotional without affectation, plaintive or humorous as appropriate without recourse to melodrama. Practically impeccable, in other words.
 
In his interesting notes Neidhart expert Marc Lewon points out that the 'von Reuental' still frequently attached to his name is erroneous, founded on "a nineteenth-century misapprehension". Curiously he, and Naxos in their title, set about perpetuating another of those with a mistranslation of 'Reuental' - 'riuwental' in MHG - as "vale of tears". In MHG tears is 'trene', 'Tränen' in modern German, whereas 'riuwe' equates with modern German 'Jammer' or 'Schmerz' - the minnesinger's 'lament' or 'pain'. The Nithart of these poems is a knight, not a cry-baby!
 
In his acknowledgements Lewon also thanks the proof-reader for checking his translations from German into English, but some of the phraseology is decidedly shaky for all that. For example, "in his Bavarian sphere" for "in seiner bairischen Heimat" ('in his Bavarian homeland'); "but from which the German Minnesang of Neidhart’s time was yet but far"; or "Neidhart only played the fool" for "Neidhart [...] spielte nur vordergründig den Narren" ('Neidhart only played the fool ostensibly'). Sometimes the language is so inapt as to misrepresent the original: "They show the distinctive trademarks of Neidhart’s oeuvre and touch on many aspects of his lyrical portfolio, featuring content, form, and musical modes typical to his work" is only tangentially equivalent to the German, quite apart from the linguistic horror that is "lyrical portfolio". Punctuation is also inconsistent and sometimes appears almost randomly applied.
 
Full sung texts, with translations into modern German and English, are downloadable for free from the Naxos website. The German translations are good, the English somewhat clumsier, with numerous misjudgements of term and register, as well as a few, sometimes meaning-changing typos - but perfectly serviceable nevertheless.
 
This CD was briefly reviewed here last year, when Naxos released it as a download only. Pace that review, no harp is used in this recording.
 
-- Byzantion, MusicWeb International

VAUGHAN WILLIAMS Mass in g. The Voice out of the Whirlwind 1. Valiant-for-truth. Three Choral Hymns 1. Nothing Is Here for Tears 1. A Vision of Aeroplanes 2. The Souls of the Righteous. A Choral Flourish 1 • Timothy Brown, cond; 1 Ashok Gupta (org); 2 James McVinnie (org); Ch of Clare College Cambridge • NAXOS 8.572465 (63:11)


Vaughan Williams is probably my favorite 20th-century composer; I adore virtually every note that he set to paper. (There are admittedly a few clinkers, such as the Piano Concerto). One of the few works of his that heretofore has failed to appeal to me is the Mass in G Minor, which has always seemed pleasant but not particularly distinguished. That has now changed radically with this disc. The moment the Kyrie sounded through my speakers, I sat bolt upright in my chair, slackjawed and dumbfounded at the ethereal, pellucid purity and superb articulation of the singing, the fleet vigor and elegance of the pacing, and the astonishing inventiveness of the composer’s adaptation of Renaissance means to modern ends in the manner of his stupendous Tallis Fantasia . (As in the earlier work, Vaughan Williams again created an antiphonal contrast between a solo quartet and a larger ensemble.)


The experience sent me scrambling to audition every other recording of the Mass on which I could lay my hands, to find out what I previously had been missing. My conclusion is that most recordings err in using far too large a choir and correspondingly slower tempi, resulting in an overly opaque sound that overburdens a finely wrought, delicate score. To bring out properly the neorenaissance character of the music, a smaller ensemble is needed. In Fanfare 26:2 James Miller cited a Cedille CD by the Chicago-based ensemble His Majestie’s Clerkes as his favorite, I suspect (though not explicitly stated) for reasons similar to mine. (Martin Anderson voiced a contrary opinion in 21:6.) However, the acoustic in that recording is extremely reverberant, overly so for my taste, whereas Naxos gets it exactly right, with balanced clarity and depth. The other recordings I have found with a similar approach are an ABC disc with the Trinity College Choir of Melbourne, which uses boy trebles instead of female sopranos (I prefer the distaff voices here), and a Delphian CD with the Laudibus chamber choir and a highly transparent, echt -Renaissance ensemble sound (I find the Clare College Choir a bit livelier and better blended). In sum, this is now the recording of choice for this work.


The other pieces recorded here are performed on a similarly high plane, and have much less competition, especially since some (The Voice out of the Whirlwind, Three Choral Hymns, A Vision of Aeroplanes ) are offered with organ rather than orchestral accompaniment. All are very typical of the composer’s choral works, except for Vision with its exotically spiky and dissonant opening section, evoking the roar of an aircraft squadron by analogy with the prophet Ezekiel’s apocalyptic vision of four winged creatures. The closest thing to a competitor in this combination of repertoire is the Hyperion disc with the Westminster Cathedral Choir, containing the Mass, Valiant for Truth , and Vision , but the Naxos CD is superior in every way. This is also apparently the first recording of Nothing Is Here for Tears , and the only available recording of the Exultate justi . The booklet notes, by the conductor, are excellent; the only flaw in this production is the lack of texts, which, given the density of certain passages, are a necessity even with fine choral diction. A Google search will turn up all of those on line; in addition to that of the traditional Latin Mass, they are:


• The Voice out of the Whirlwind : Job 38:1–10 and 16–17, 40:7–10.


• A Vision of Aeroplanes: Ezekiel 1:4–28.


• The souls of the Righteous : Wisdom of Solomon 3:1–3.


• Exultate justi : Psalms 32:11 and 33:1–4.


• Valiant-for-Truth : The passage regarding that character in the last chapter of The Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan, beginning, “After this it was noised abroad.”


• Nothing Is Here for Tears : a potted version of lines 1721–40 from Book IV of Paradise Regained by John Milton.


• Three Choral Hymns : German hymn texts (two derived through Martin Luther) translated by Miles Coverdale, beginning “Alleluya. Christe is now rysen agayne,” “Now blessed be thou, Christ Jesu,” and “Come, holy Spirite, most blessed Lorde.”


Aside from this one drawback, this disc has my highest possible recommendation, and is a candidate for the 2010 Want List.


FANFARE: James A. Altena


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Recordings of Vaughan Williams' Mass in G minor don't come along that often--but with this new one, Naxos has two first-rate performances in its catalog, the other with the Elora Festival Singers. That's where the similarity between the two recordings ends, however--and that's a good thing. In fact, this disc is different from most Vaughan Williams choral programs due to its abundance of rarely-heard works.

The two more-familiar items--Valiant-for-truth and the Mass--are performed as well as you'll hear anywhere on disc; the challenging a cappella scoring in both--but especially in the very exposed textures of the Mass--allows us to fully appreciate this choir's ensemble unity and solid intonation. The Mass is among the faster-paced versions on disc, similar to our reference recording (Cedille), but Timothy Brown knows that slower can mean trouble in this work, and he moderates tempo where it counts, most importantly in the Agnus Dei.

Among the lesser-known works, The Voice out of the Whirlwind is one of those grand cathedral anthems with a busy organ accompaniment, fun for all to sing and play, while Nothing is here for tears (written on the death of King George V) is in the best tradition of this composer's unison-voice anthems whose lovely, easily singable hymn-like tunes and well-crafted organ parts are always appreciated by choral directors and choirs. In a completely different universe is the motet A Vision of Aeroplanes, a tour de force for choir and organ (especially for organ!) that sets words from the prophet Ezekiel (the one about the vision of the "wheel within a wheel..."). In the hands of organist James McVinnie and these exceptional singers, the whole fantastic picture comes vividly to life.

Perhaps best of all--and also among the rarely-heard pieces--are the Three Choral Hymns. Although the three-movement work was originally scored for orchestra, Brown and his choir offer what apparently is its first recording with organ accompaniment. It works well, and perhaps in this form it will draw broader attention and more performances.

The Mass always seems difficult to record, and that's true here, with some harshness in the loudest passages and occasional uneven balances between the two choirs and between the choir and quartet of soloists. It's not a big deal, just a peculiar phenomenon that may be related to the particular features of the work's scoring, harmonic structure, and voicing. I also have to mention that for a recording of choral music to come without printed texts, as is the case here (they are only available online), is not ideal, especially when the majority of texts will not be familiar to most listeners. That said, this is an excellent and much needed addition to the Vaughan Williams choral catalog, and fans of the composer will not want to be without it. Strongly recommended.

--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

The orchestrations are colorful, subtle and brilliant. A joy to hear. Equally delightful is the playing. The Lyon National Orchestra under Jun Märkl captures the subtlety and beauty of tone throughout every piece and the recorded sound is really first rate.

The Debussy Orchestral Works, Vol. 6 from Naxos offers a nice mix of familiar and rare works, all in exquisite orchestrations by musicians who either knew Debussy or admire his works. Debussy himself wrote all of this music for the piano 4 hands. The orchestrations are colorful, subtle and brilliant. A joy to hear. Equally delightful is the playing. The Lyon National Orchestra under Jun Märkl captures the subtlety and beauty of tone throughout every piece and the recorded sound is really first rate. Orchestrating piano music requires an understanding of both keyboard and orchestral techniques in order to rethink the piano music for an ensemble. It requires interpolations that are natural to the spirit of the music without imparting on the orchestra a pianistic left and right hand. These arrangements make the music sound as if it has always been for orchestra.

The selections range from pops concert favorite, Clair de lune, in a luminous classic arrangement by Andre Caplet to Debussy's early Symphony, of which he completed only the first movement, orchestrated by Tony Finno. With Clair de lune we also get the entire Suite bergamasque from which it comes, the other movements colorfully arranged by Gustave Cloez. The total effect of the suite in this orchestral form is much like a ballet score, performed with lyric grace by Lyon musicians. This is a particularly fine and sensitive performance of Clair de lune. This heartstrings pulling performance of moves at a slightly faster pace than some of the others but remains quite lovely within its own world in the suite.

The Symphony is actually rather good. Its swaggering main theme is a bit repetitious but the overall style is much more romantic than impressionist and reminiscent of perhaps d'Indy, Faure or the rarely heard symphony by Dukas. I've heard one other chamber ensemble arrangement of Debussy's sketches and this version for full orchestra by Tony Finno is far and away the best.

Henri Busser's arrangement of the Petite suite, which certainly has much orchestral competition with performances recorded by Martinon, Tortelier, Ansermet, Dutoit and many more is aided here by superb sound quality and excellent, sensitive artistry. Busser's other orchestration is Printemps, a two movement piece with one foot in the late-romantic era and the other feeling around in the new musical impressionism. The music is played with shimmering beauty. Probably the clearest and most sparkling recorded performance of Printemps I've heard.

En blanc et noir, orchestrated by Robin Holloway is not just black and white as the piano key title implies, but quite colorful. The arrangement was commissioned in 2002 by the San Francisco Symphony. The music is more boisterous and exuberant,sounding at times as if it is about to turn toward Debussy's Iberia but with the Spanish atmosphere replaced instead by a somewhat mischievous quality which grows on you with repeated hearings. The last movement Debussy dedicated to "mon ami Strawinsky"‘. With performances that treat the older works as if they were newly discovered and the unknown works with a sense of magic and wonder, this album is definitely a winner.

- Greg La Traille, ArkivMusic.com

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The most compelling item in this collection is En blanc et noir, not only one of Debussy's most advanced instrumental works (composed for two pianos), but the orchestral arrangement sounds closest to the composer himself. Robin Holloway drew upon Debussy's contemporaneous Jeux as a model, with numerous passages in the first and third movements replicating that work's uniquely colorful sound world. In the reflective middle movement Holloway's orchestral dress evokes the dreamy atmosphere of Les parfums de la nuit from Iberia. Jun Märkl and the Orchestre National de Lyon offer a sparking performance, playing the music with real verve, as if they had discovered a heretofore unknown Debussy masterpiece.

Debussy only completed one movement of his proposed Symphony in B minor (1880), and then only as a piano duet. Tony Finno's orchestral arrangement emphasizes the music's Russian influences (it was composed around the time he was employed by Tchaikovsky's patron Nadezhda von Meck), though there are occasional pre-echoes of the mature Debussy. Märkl and his band perform this and the remainder of the program (the familiar Suite bergamasque, Petite Suite, and Printemps arrangements) with the same vitality and commitment afforded En blanc et noir. The spacious recording is a bit over-reverberant, but nevertheless provides solid presence and impact. Debussy fans will find this release a real delight.

--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

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Other review quotes:

"Subtle and sensitive readings" - Gramophone.

"This is bewitching music-making that should on no account be missed. One of the finest discs Naxos has ever released." - Classic FM (about Volume 1 (8.570759).

"Volume 6 in Naxos’s popular series presents five highly diverse works in gorgeous orchestrations by Debussy’s colleagues or later admirers. Indeed, pieces such as Clair de lune and Printemps may even be better known in these seductive guises than in their original forms. Of particular interest is Debussy’s sole attempt at composing a symphony, a youthful work imbued with the spirit of French Romanticism, only the first movement of which he completed." - Naxos

GINASTERA String Quartets: No. 1; No. 2; No. 3 1 • Ens? Qrt; Lucy Shelton (sop) 1 • NAXOS 8.570780 (73:31 Text and Translation)


More than most, Ginastera’s compositional output may be divided into three stylistic periods. His early works, using an impressionist language, were nationalistic in influence and drew heavily on Argentine dance rhythms. During his middle period, he expanded the scope of his tonality while remaining attached to his Hispanic roots, and in his late works he turned to contemporary avant-garde idioms. In my view, his best work comes from the middle period: the brilliant Harp Concerto and the succinct Variaciones concertantes. He was more individual than in his early impressionistic mode, and paradoxically more individual than he was to become after he adopted the standard stylistic traits of the 1960s and 1970s. His first two string quartets date from the beginning and end of that middle period.


Ginastera’s quartets demand a high level of virtuosity from the performers. Extreme dynamics, high harmonics, and syncopated rhythms requiring tight ensemble appear throughout. The First Quartet of 1948 is notable for its light-footed Scherzo ( vivacissimo ), its atmospheric slow movement ( calmo e poetico ), and a vigorous, stamping finale ( allegramente rustico ).


A similar wispy Scherzo movement occurs in the Second Quartet (1958, rev. 1968), but there it is deconstructed. In five movements, the Second Quartet contains an “extra” movement built from a series of cadenzas from each of the instruments ( libero e rapsodico ), before plunging into its own modernized version of a dance-inflected finale. The first movement presents a 12-tone theme, the first use of that technique in the composer’s work.


By the time of the Third Quartet, Ginastera had left his previous formal procedures behind. He introduced a soprano soloist, as did Schoenberg in his Second Quartet—a precedent of which the status-conscious Argentine composer was well aware. He set texts by Jiménez, Lorca, and Alberti, illuminating the soprano’s vocalizing and occasional spoken declamation with a series of ingenious string effects. The imagery and atmosphere of the poems dictate the musical form, so the task for the musicians is to reproduce specific moods, on top of the considerable technical challenges.


Previous recordings of all three quartets exist, though only one currently available brings them together on a single CD: the Cuarteto Latinoamericano (on Élan). I have not heard that disc, but I have the Latinoamericano recording of Quartet No. 1 in a mixed program from the same label (which may or may not be the same performance): they bring genuine excitement and tight ensemble to the piece, but are equally matched by the Ens? on this new release.


The original performers of the Third Quartet, Benita Valente and the Juilliard Quartet, recorded the work for the Bridge label in an interesting mixed recital that is well worth hearing for the couplings by Harbison and Wernick. Valente sings with great control and understanding, but the recording was made some 27 years after the event, by which time her voice had lost much of its bloom.


On the new disc, Lucy Shelton is a revelation: she brings pure tone and a wide range of vocal color to her interpretation. (Valente is more convincing in the relatively few spoken passages.) The U.S.-based Ens? Quartet plays with warmth and unanimity, meeting all the technical and interpretive hurdles with apparent ease. Naxos’s sound is excellent, the timing is generous, and a translation of the poetry is provided, making this CD the version of choice, regardless of price.


FANFARE: Phillip Scott

Billed as the start of a new complete Shostakovich symphony cycle, this initial entry holds a great deal of promise. The Eleventh Symphony has more the character of a film score than a traditional symphonic work: it thrives on atmosphere, color, and the repetition of simple tunes and motives rather than drama created by development and tonal contrast. Conductor Vasily Petrenko certainly understands this, whether in capturing the ghostly string timbres of the opening (reinforced by celesta on its many subsequent returns), in the crushing massacre sequence in the second movement, or in the splashy ending, with cymbals, bells, and tam-tam making cinematic contributions.

Petrenko's also very sensible in his handling of tempo. The first and third movements don't drag; the second and fourth have plenty of excitement with rhythms that never turn mechanical (as they have a tendency to do, what with so much militaristic march music). The Royal Liverpool Philharmonic plays very well, with distinguished contributions from all departments. My only quibble concerns the slightly backward positioning and lack of clarity afforded the timpanist, who carries much of the thematic substance of the first movement and presides over the massacre's percussion fusillades. Otherwise, this is pretty terrific on all counts. I recommend it accordingly, and look forward to the continuation of the cycle. [4/2/2009]

--David Hurwitz, ClassicssToday.com

As previous issues in this series have shown, when Antoni Wit and his forces are in top form in the music of Szymanowski, they're pretty much unbeatable. At last, we have a complete symphony cycle in performances that will serve as the reference for all newcomers. Szymanowski repudiated his First Symphony on stylistic grounds (too Wagnerian), and it certainly does not represent the direction he ultimately took. But it's still great fun: a big, bold, scant 20 minutes of colorful scoring and exuberant musical ideas. The Concert Overture is even more so. It's pure Richard Strauss, only better in some respects--packing all the ebullience of Don Juan or Ein Heldenleben (or both!) into a relatively concise curtain-raiser.

The performance of the Symphonie Concertante, one of Szymanowski's greatest works, is superb. Pianist Jan Krzysztof Broja plays the solo part beautifully. He's got the chops for the big moments in the outer movements, but it's his delicacy at the start of the central andante that's most memorable. Wit, typically, directs the orchestra with remarkable clarity as well as power. The finale in particular never has sounded less "clogged" texturally, while the very natural engineering always leaves plenty of room for the sound to expand and fill the hall at those ecstatic climaxes that are such a hallmark of this composer. A splendid release!

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

These three works together constitute an attractive and generous programme. All three are little known although all have been recorded, if not necessarily on particularly high profile releases. There is not an abundance of chamber works involving solo viola and this disc certainly adds to our understanding of how a repertoire for the instrument emerged during the early years of what we now regard as the Romantic era. It also introduces a young recitalist who plays with an assured technique and no little passion. She is the German-born and trained violist Hiyoli Togawa who also has Japanese and Australian roots. Her well-matched accompanist is the Armenian Lilit Grigoryan. There is an interesting and rather confessional interview with Ms Togawa on the Naxos website in which she explains the appeal of these pieces and her philosophy in terms of their performance. To cut to the chase she characterises the works pithily as follows: “Onslow’s sonata reflects …..cheerfulness as well. …..Onslow’s sonata has nothing of Kalliwoda’s dreaminess nor does it have the deep seriousness of Mendelssohn’s sonata.”

Onslow’s Sonata is in fact his own transcription for viola of the first of his three Cello Sonatas Op 16. I have previously expressed enthusiasm for Onslow on this site, and this interesting sonata proves as imaginatively conceived and executed as his String Quintets which are currently being recorded by the Elan Quintet and released systematically by Naxos. While this sonata is not especially earth-shattering it is unusually democratic as the instrumental protagonists are clearly treated as equal collaborators. The opening Allegro is pleasing enough, amiable if rather conventional. The work’s true heart and highlight is the gorgeous Andante. It is odd how individual movements in Onslow’s large and unfamiliar output sometimes make one stop in one’s tracks. Such is the case with this limpid and tender Andante where violist and pianist demonstrate a deeply intuitive sympathy. Onslow’s stylistic influences tended to be Beethoven and Schubert but this early work hasn’t fully absorbed the spirit of these Romantic giants and I find there is something rather Gallic about it. Focusing on Grigoryan’s restrained accompaniment it’s possible to perceive something of French music’s future; it has a weirdly wistful and melancholic Faurean hue. The final Allegretto is contrastingly light as air and full of a youthful joie de vivre. It’s enjoyable, delightfully played and cleanly recorded.

There follows a rare outing for Mendelssohn’s Viola Sonata. I can hear some readers reacting with surprise – “Mendelssohn wrote a Viola Sonata??” Not only A viola sonata. In terms of the viola as we know it, ie not the viola d’amore, my research has thus far failed to turn up an earlier example of this form. (I’m sure somebody reading this will be far better informed….) It dates from 1824 when Mendelssohn was in teenage prodigy mode, although it has no opus number and wasn’t in fact published until 1966. It’s a dark inspiration and it nails its colours to the mast from the first bar of the opening Adagio-Allegro. Its gloomy countenance is tackled with great restraint by Hiyoli Tagowa as if to emphasise the contrast with the more conventional Allegro section which follows although this is not without its own moments of introspection (an 1820s example of teenage angst?). The melodic lines are unusually chromatic. The way the music simply fades at the conclusion of this movement is most novel, and beautifully managed by both players. Indeed the entire work is full of original touches and consequently its relative neglect is puzzling to me. It is scarcely believable that this sonata, with its unusual but utterly convincing structure and especially the brooding darkness of its melodic content could possibly have been produced by a boy of 15. The following Menuetto-Allegro molto will be familiar to anyone on nodding terms with Mendelssohn’s First Symphony (also in C minor) which followed soon after the sonata in March 1824 as it was reworked as the symphony’s third movement. The ensemble between the two players is again outstanding, the instruments have been very closely recorded but this doesn’t detract from the overall sound, which is truthful but never excessively so. The finale is more typically Mendelssohnian and employs his beloved variation form, though the final Allegro forms a kind of independent coda to the whole work, and sort of acts as a counterweight for the first movement fade-out. Another truly individual touch is the piano solo which dominates the final variation. This is lovingly played by Lilit Grigoryan who truly makes the most of her moment. It also underlines the fact that just as in the Onslow work, piano and viola are equals here. While this sonata is not necessarily a masterpiece of Octet proportions the viola repertoire is hardly overflowing and Mendelssohn’s early contribution to the form should surely be better known. It seems the most significant rival to this new recording is the one by Paul Coletti and Leslie Howard on a Hyperion disc from 1998 (CDA 66946), but this is a superlative account from Togawa and Grigoryan, the highlight of the disc for me.

It concludes with the equally unfamiliar set of Six Nocturnes Op 186 by the prolific Johann Kalliwoda, born in Prague in 1801. The notes tell us that these little pieces were among the works that kept his name alive at the start of the twentieth century, not least because they could be used for intimate family chamber performances. Nor do they appear to fulfil the stereotype of the ‘nocturne’ in the sense that the set alternates between slow and fast pieces. The fact that they were written a generation later than the Onslow and Mendelssohn works is reflected in a style that occasionally brings Schumann to mind, most notably in the last of the group which opens with a notably dark and chromatic flourish. Togawa most certainly does not hold back here, and the close microphones capture her 1749 Testore viola in really vivid sound which actually suits these brief and closely argued pieces admirably.

This is a terrific disc. My concern is that issues with generic titles like ‘Romantic Viola Sonatas’ often get overlooked by the record-buying public. I hope this review provides readers with the necessary encouragement to acquire it. It showcases another deeply impressive young violist (I was fortunate to be asked to review Ellen Nisbeth’s superb BIS disc of English repertoire late last year) doing her bit for the instrument. She also has the benefit of a sympathetic and generous accompanist and a warm, if close recording. While the Mendelssohn work is a standout, its companions here are far from makeweights.

– MusicWeb International (Richard Hanlon)

Alexander Moyzes, one of the leading Slovakian composers of his generation, created a nationally inspired style that also assimilated trends aligning his music with contemporaries such as Shostakovich. The Eleventh Symphony builds on the success of the Tenth, intensifying it's emotional impact and developing sophisticated cycles of transformation and variation. Simpler and more concise than preceding works, the Twelfth Symphony was Moyzes' final orchestral statement and his 'diary in music.' He said it 'also seeks to express my attitude to life... We have to take life as it is, with all it's digressions, demands, and haste.' The Slovak Radio Symphony Orchestra was established in 1929 as the first professional symphony orchestra in Slovakia. The orchestra is currently led by conductor Mario Kosik.

Ali Arango, First Prize winner of the 2018 Tarrega International Guitar Competition, Benicassim, has selected the repertoire for this recital in tribute to his years in Cuba where he learned many of these works. He has chosen Tarrega's brilliant Gran jota, Barrios Mangore's masterpiece, La cathedral and the powerful Sonata No. 1 by his fellow Cuban, the contemporary master Leo Brouwer with whose music Arango is strongly associated. Also included is the guitarist's own Triptico para guitarra, a large-scale work that embraces sarabande-like motifs, polyphony and Afro-Cuban influences.

The songs on this album are not as well known as other works by these three composers, but this more intimate form of expression often goes straight to the heart and soul of their work. Tchaikovsky wrote songs throughout his life, and it is easy to find autobiographical parallels in his chosen themes of love and longing. Rimsky-Korsakov's songs are characterized by tender lyricism, while Rachmaninov's wordless Vocalise has become one of his most famous melodies. Margarita Gritskova was born in 1987 in St. Petersburg. She is a prizewinner of the Luciano Pavarotti Competition in Modena, and the Concurso Internacional de Canto 'Villa de Colmenar Viejo' in 2010. She has performed in Carmen under the direction of Mariss Jansons in St. Petersburg, and appeared at world renowned festivals across the globe.

The Iranian conductor and composer Alexander Rahbari grew up with and trained in traditional Persian music with it's most influential maestros. His eight symphonic poems, My Mother Persia, of which this is Volume 1 of 2, are full of melodies, rhythms and improvisations in these traditional styles, brought to life with the colors of modern orchestration. The first of these is an emotional violin concerto in which the soloist plays the role of the Nohe Khan, usually a tenor who sings in traditional Persian style at various religious ceremonies. Mother's Tears refers to a gathering of orphans and to Rahbari's own experiences of tragedy, contrasting with a subtext of mischief in Children's Prayer.

There have been a couple of recordings of El amor brujo in its original, two-act chamber version of 1915, but this one is as fine as any and just might be the best around. Conductor Angel Gil-Ordóñez chooses ideal tempos, the members of the Perspectives Ensemble play beautifully, and everyone seems genuinely involved in projecting Falla’s characterful instrumental parts with just the right combination of precision and warmth. Cantaora (singer) Esperanza Fernández sings with fervor and her voice, while raw and “popular,” at least remains in tune. She lacks the artistry and sensitivity of more professionally trained singers such as the incomparable Nati Mistrál on Decca, but in these surroundings it hardly matters.

The original version really is a different work: longer, with a slightly different plot that need not concern us, and despite using much of the same music often quite different in sound and texture. You can compare the two in the sound clips below. The revised version for full orchestra sounds more mysterious, more “impressionistic” if you will, while the original is leaner in outline but also definitely more rhythmically persistent and sinister. The only disadvantage to the original, in my opinion, is the generous amount of spoken dialog, which must be irritating even to native speakers when the music is so beautiful. You wish Fernández would offer less talk and more music.

Speaking of talk, Master Peter’s Puppet Show has a plot straight from Cervantes’ Don Quixote, and consists of wonderful musical bits connected by long stretches of recitative narration. The scoring is extremely imaginative, with the chamber ensemble featuring a harpsichord (played by Wanda Landowska at the premiere), and colorful parts for brass and percussion. What singing there is comes off quite well, with Jennifer Zetlan doing her best with the ungrateful part of the narrator. The plot, in case you don’t already know the original, is simplicity itself. At a roadside inn Master Peter puts on a puppet show set in the time of Charlemagne about the rescue of a damsel in distress. Don Quixote becomes thoroughly confused and takes the whole thing rather too seriously. Chaos ensues. That’s it.

Once again the performance is excellent from all concerned, and both pieces are very well recorded. Provided you have time to sit down and follow both not-terribly-long works booklet in hand, in this case thoughtfully containing texts and English translations, this release earns an easy and well-deserved recommendation.

– ClassicsToday.com (David Hurwitz)