For his recording of Bach's The Art of Fugue, harpsichordist Sébastien Guillot includes the composer's early autograph versions. Although Bach's more familiar revisions generally were for the better, his first thoughts make for fascinating comparison. Contrapunctus 1's first version contains alternate note readings and lacks the gorgeous coda Bach added as an inspired afterthought. If the piece often referred to as Contrapunctus 10 sounds as if it starts mid-stream, so to speak, that's because we're used to the 22 sublime bars Bach subsequently tacked on to the beginning. The early version of the canon in augmentation and inversion is fascinatingly florid, but without the revision's extraordinary chromatic tension and melodic humor that Guillot brilliantly conveys. Other differences involve ornamental more than compositional refinements.
In an era where a few too many harpsichordists embrace these pieces with fussy agogics, crawling tempos, and a reverential halo, Guillot's fleet, uncluttered, and enlivening interpretations are positively refreshing. Ornaments and cadenzas are infused with improvisatory joy, while Guillot's rolled chords contain more gestural and expressive variety than we often hear. Should you prefer more repose and austerity (and some listeners undoubtedly will), I'd stick with Robert Hill, Gustav Leonhardt, and Davitt Moroney. But if Guillot's extroversion entices, then by all means supplement your collection with this inexpensive, beautifully engineered release.
The so-called 'lost generation' of German composers includes many whose lives were shaped by events after 1933. Reinhard Schwarz-Schilling: Violin Concerto; Partita; Polonaise buy CD music One such was Reinhard Schwarz-Schilling, a composer of strong spiritual depth whose 1953 Violin Concerto was rooted in his wartime experiences. Reinhard Schwarz-Schilling: Violin Concerto; Partita; Polonaise songs Ingeniously constructed, it subtly evokes the influence of Bach, without at all embracing neo-classicism. Reinhard Schwarz-Schilling: Violin Concerto; Partita; Polonaise album for sale Its moving slow movement is followed by a finale that marries virtuosity with dance-like magnetism. Reinhard Schwarz-Schilling: Violin Concerto; Partita; Polonaise CD music The Partita is much admired for its color and vitality, whilst the Polonaise is a lighter work, brimming with high spirits. Reinhard Schwarz-Schilling: Violin Concerto; Partita; Polonaise buy CD music GRAMMY--winner conductor and composer Jose Serebrier is one of today's most recorded classical artists. Reinhard Schwarz-Schilling: Violin Concerto; Partita; Polonaise songs He has received 39 GRAMMY- nominations in recent years. His First Symphony (8.559648) was premiered by Leopold Stokowski (who premiered several of his works) when Serebrier was 17, as a last-minute replacement for the then still unplayable Ives Fourth Symphony.
The music of Fernando Lopes-Graca, one of the most significant Portuguese composers of the twentieth-century, went through several phases of development. Though rooted in folk music, it absorbed influences not only from much earlier composers such as Scarlatti and Seixas, but from contemporaries such as Bartok. These influences are potent in the Piano Concerto No. 1 of 1940, a highly personal, atmospheric and superbly orchestrated work imbued with bittersweet romanticism. Though the Iberian Baroque permeates it's finale, the Piano Concerto No. 2 is a much darker and more ambivalent work, marking a new milestone in his development.
Vivaldi: Bassoon Concertos Vol 4 / Benkócs, Drahos, Et Al
Naxos
CD
$19.99Feb 27, 2007
Here, offering a further six concertos, is the latest instalment in Naxos’s recording of Vivaldi’s 37 bassoon concertos; 39 if one counts two incomplete specimens. Those who have invested in earlier volumes in the series (see below), all recorded by the same forces, will know to expect the enjoyable, fluent performances that are to be heard here.
The Nicolaus Esterházy Sinfonia use modern instruments but, under the direction of Béla Drahos they play with a crisp articulation that is, for the most part, stylistically convincing. Benkócs is a very fine bassoonist indeed, both technically extremely accomplished and musically imaginative. The outer movements – all six are in three movements, fast-slow-fast – frequently call for considerable fleetness of finger and certainty of breath control and Benkócs is never found wanting. There is rapid-fire virtuosity when needed and many delightfully dancing passages. In the slow movements Benkócs plays with lyrical expressivity, elegantly poignant and reflective in music which, as so often in the slow movements of Vivaldi’s concertos has a distinctly operatic feel about it.
Every one of these concertos offers things of real interest – Vivaldi’s musical imagination seems unflagging. There’s the way, for example, in which the opening allegro of RV 477 contrasts the tenor and bass registers of the solo instrument; or the dotted rhythms of the bassoon in the largo of RV 499. Or, particularly pleasant, the final allegro of RV 494 which is full of ingenious twists and turns.
It is puzzling that Vivaldi should have written quite so many concertos for the bassoon – the bassoon wasn’t generally a fashionable solo instrument in this period. Perhaps he wrote them for a specific instrumentalist; if so the identity of that musician remains unknown; certainly Vivaldi demonstrates a thorough understanding of the instrument’s possibilities. Whatever the circumstances which prompted the composition of these concertos, they certainly constitute a rewarding body of music and one of the many demonstrations of Vivaldi’s remarkable ability to produce seemingly infinite variations (and there really is variety here) on a basically simple formula.
A graduate of the Franz Liszt Academy of Music in Budapest, Tamás Benkócs is a member of the Budapest Festival Orchestra. I haven’t encountered any other recordings by him outside this Naxos series of the Vivaldi concertos. He is such a fine player that it is to be hoped that he will go onto record more of the bassoon repertoire.
The one reservation – though it is not one that spoils my pleasure in the CDs – that I about this series concerns the rather understated penny-plain continuo, where the concertos would certainly benefit from greater embellishment. Very decent as the contribution of the Nicolaus Esterházy Sinfonia and Béla Drahos is, I would love to hear Benkócs playing these works with one of the best specialist baroque ensembles.
On balance though, this is an eminently worthwhile and enjoyable series, and this latest volume continues the good work begun by its predecessors. The recorded sound is pleasingly clear and well balanced.
Brian: Symphonies No 22, 23 And 24, English Suite / Walker, New Russian Symphony
Naxos
CD
$13.99$19.99Save 30%May 28, 2013
Havergal Brian may be a “cult composer”, but he’s surely one of the better ones. His music, even from its early days, was always strange, imaginative, and distinctive, and this disc, containing some very early and very late works, makes the point tellingly. Symphonies Nos. 22-24 form a trilogy. They were all composed between 11:30am and 9pm on May 26th, 1965, when the composer was 137 years old. Okay, just kidding, but 1965 is correct, and Brian was an impressive 89 at the time, which is astonishing enough. Symphony No. 22, “Symphonia brevis”, contains just two movements and lasts nine minutes. March rhythms predominate, alongside the gnarly, virtually atonal counterpoint that characterizes much of Brian’s late work. It sounds unappealing, but the music is so big in gesture and broad in its contrasts that it really does capture and hold your attention. Symphony No. 23, again in two movements but this time lasting all of 14 minutes, is more colorful and also a touch less angular, with some very beautiful moments of lyric calm. No. 24 consists of single, 16-minute movement, in which much of the storm and stress of the previously two works is resolved in lighter, brighter textures and more obviously diatonic thematic material. All three symphonies share an emphasis on march rhythms, and those characteristic brass and percussion effects (giant crescendos, deep tuba lines, three snare drums, unisons for xylophone and glockenspiel, cymbal crashes that hang over the bar lines) typical of Brian, and no one else. The advantage to having them all together, though, lies in the fact that you really can hear that Brian’s language has a wide range of expression, here displayed over a comparatively small space.
The English Suite No. 1 dates from 1905-6; that’s right, sixty years earlier than the three symphonies. Rich in invention, and much more obviously melodic, its six movements start with a march, and continue with a waltz, and character piece called “Under the Beech Tree”, an Interlude, Hymn, and finally a concluding Carnival, which pokes good-natured fun at God Save the King/Queen and other popular tunes. The Interlude is rather amazing, an experiment piece whose outer sections consist of pure texture (sound clip). It reveals Brian’s individuality even at this relatively early stage in his career—although he was already pushing 30 when the Suite was composed.
The performances here are very good. The New Russian State Symphony Orchestra sounds remarkably confident in Brian’s idiosyncratic sound world. The brass play very well, and the ensemble projects what have to be some very ungrateful string parts with astonishing conviction. Much of the credit must belong to conductor Alexander Walker, who keeps the music moving smartly along, and relishes the opportunities it offers for lyrical expression as well as instrumental color. Certainly this is one of the best issues in Naxos’ ongoing Brian cycle, especially as the sonics are also very tactile and vivid. Fans of the composer will rejoice.
Mendelssohn: Choral Music / Winpenny, St. Albans Cathedral Choirs
Naxos
CD
$13.99$19.99Save 30%Sep 25, 2012
Compared with large-scale oratorios such as St Paul, which includes the lyrical chorus How lovely are the messengers, Mendelssohn’s smaller sacred choral works were influenced by Palestrina, ranging from short liturgical motets such as the Sechs Sprüche to the canticle settings of the Magnificat and Nunc dimittis. The famous sacred melody ‘O for the wings of a dove’ is to be found in Hear my prayer. The fine choristers of St Albans Cathedral can also be heard ‘on sparkling form’ (Gramophone) in John Rutter’s Gloria (8.572653).
Jean-marie Leclair: Violin Sonatas, Book 2 Nos. 1-5 And 8
Naxos
CD
$19.99Jul 30, 2013
LECLAIR Violin Sonatas, op. 2, Nos. 1–5, 8 • Adrian Butterfield (vn); Jonathan Manson (vdg); Laurence Cummings (hpd) (period instruments) • NAXOS 8.572866 (77:50)
Several years ago, the three Naxos discs comprising Adrian Butterfield’s performances of Jean-Marie Leclair’s first book of violin sonatas (Naxos 8.570888, 8.570889, and 8.570890) appeared, and I highly recommended them in Fanfare 35:3. Butterfield and harpsichordist Laurence Cummings have now returned, with Jonathan Manson rather than Alison McGillivray playing the viola da gamba, with an installment of six sonatas from the composer’s second book. Butterfield’s own notes relate that this set includes five sonatas for violin or flute (two occurred in the first book); and Butterfield emphasizes that Leclair intended these works for a wider group of performers.
The program, in order, opens with one of the sonatas in which Leclair offered the choice of violin or flute. Its four movements begin with an arch Adagio in which Manson displays the richness of the seven-string gamba made in 1978 by Curtis Bryant (Butterfield plays a violin made by David Rubio in 1996 after the 1734 Rode Guarneri del Gesù, while Cummings plays a 2000 harpsichord by Andrew Garlick based on a 1748 model). The book of sonatas appeared in 1728, after, according to Butterfield, Leclair had studied for a time in Turin with Corelli’s student, Giovanni Battista Somis. William S. Newman suggests that, through Somis, Leclair made the acquaintance of the music of both Corelli and Vivaldi; and later he would come under the spell of Corelli’s student Pietro Locatelli, whose devilish virtuosity appears, though restricted mainly to the lower positions, in Leclair’s later books of sonatas. Butterfield draws comparisons between Leclair’s allegros and Corelli’s, but Somis’s sonatas, at least the later ones of op. 4 (written in 1726, about the year Leclair visited him), fall into three rather than four movements, as all these do. Somis’s works also don’t push the technical envelope far beyond Corelli’s—they’re very tame, as these by Leclair, for the most part, prove to be. Nevertheless, the Second Sonata in Leclair’s set employs double stops freely, and represents generally a more advanced technique. But Butterfield and his ensemble find the commonalties in these works, whatever their instrumentation or technical demands, in the starchy French style in which they present what Leclair had absorbed of the Italian style from his travels. And in the Finale of that Second Sonata, they abandon themselves to an Italian energy that recalls Vivaldi’s, featuring cadenza-like passagework.
The Third Sonata returns to the instrumental choice offered by the First Sonata—violin or flute—and therefore to the more moderate technical demands such a choice implies. Butterfield points out in the notes the melodic affinities of the opening movement of the Fourth Sonata to Corelli’s style, a parallel he and the ensemble exuberantly draw in the performance itself. But those familiar with Somis’s sonatas may find that these works resemble his as closely as they do Corelli’s. In any case, the ensemble brings sonorous virtuosity to the third movement, a double-stopped “Aria: Gratioso.” The Finale combines Corelli’s melodic manner with technically more demanding swirling double stops.
The Fifth Sonata again suggests the simplicity of an arrangement for violin or flute, but its first movement offers Manson, again, an opportunity to display the richness of both his tone and his musical imagination. After a Corellian (or Somisian) Allegro of considerable melodic and rhythmic verve—at least in this performance—the Sonata proceeds through an elegant Gavotte to a piquant Finale, in which Butterfield’s tart ornamentation lends a brisk energy. Butterfield points out that Leclair conceived the Eighth Sonata as a sort of duet for violin and gamba, and his interaction with Manson in the first movement bears out this observation. Its imitative second movement takes advantage of the same manner of writing, even if it isn’t so thorough-goingly polyphonic as similar passages in Corelli’s church sonatas. But Corelli’s personality shines through this movement’s melodic contours as well as through its counterpoint. The Sarabanda offers particularly rich opportunities for conversation between the violin and gamba; the Finale contains chains of trills that enliven its melodic discourse.
Butterfield remarks that violinists have not taken up Leclair’s first two books of sonatas, perhaps because of their modest demands; perhaps his insightful and cleanly-recorded performances (along with those of the first book) will revive some interest in them. Strongly recommended—and not just for the violinistic moments.
Choruses For Male Voices And Orchestra / Lund Student Singers, Malmo Opera Orchestra
Naxos
CD
$19.99Oct 30, 2012
Drawing on the romantic spirit in music, Schubert’s moving setting is of a poem by Goethe which compares a rushing waterfall to the soul of man, while Strauss’s gorgeous Mittagsruhe depicts the peace of a summer noontide. Narrative vocal traditions are heard in Sibelius’s nationalist Vapautettu kuningatar, Bruckner’s heroic Helgoland, and Grieg’s Landkjenning, which tells of the 10th-century Norwegian king Oleg Tryggvason. Das Liebesmahl der Apostel anticipates the religious ecstasies of Wagner’s Parsifal, while Debussy’s early cantata Invocation resonates with Gallic sparkle.
Grieg: Music For Strings / Barratt-due, Oslo Camerata
Naxos
CD
$19.99Jun 20, 2006
The playing of the Oslo Camerata here is uniformly excellent: vibrant, rhythmically taut, and full of life, though the Holberg Suite really comes into its own when played by a full symphonic string section, as opposed to a smaller group. Stephan Barratt-Due secures swifter tempos than we usually hear from larger ensembles, but at some sacrifice of the music's sheer charm (particularly in the concluding Rigaudon). Barratt-Due also increases the (limited) opportunities for contrast in the primarily slow and quiet remainder of the program by separating the Two Elegiac Melodies Op. 34--a smart move--but he curiously omits the first of the Two Lyric Pieces Op. 68 in favor of Ase's Death from Peer Gynt. Since the disc only plays for a bit more than 51 minutes, there was no earthly reason to leave anything out.
So if you want Grieg's complete music for string orchestra (and I assume everyone has the Peer Gynt music anyway), leaving aside performance issues and the question of price, the reference recording from Bergen on BIS remains the way to go. The fact that it's also an SACD may or may not count as an additional point in its favor. And speaking of missing items, the Naxos booklet includes only half of the notes as well, a printing error I assume will be corrected in due course! Still, if the program suits your fancy, these are recommendable performances, well engineered to boot.
REGER Symphonic Fantasia and Fugue, op. 57, “Inferno.” Pieces for Organ, op. 145 • Edgar Krapp (org) • NAXOS 8.557891 (69:09)
The Symphonic Fantasia and Fugue opens with a violent fury, building to a quick climax, punctuated by chords and keyboard runs before diminishing into a calm meditation—all within the first minute. Throughout this 10-minute Fantasia, the music swells and diminishes, from climax to serenity. Edgar Krapp brings this off superbly. Max Reger considered his op. 57 the most difficult music he ever wrote, but Krapp never breaks a sweat. He has mastered this music and knows every nuance. He lets all the stops out in the Passau Cathedral in Eisenbarth, Germany, making no apologies for the intensity or force of the music. At times he seems carried away in a kind of divine madness, reveling in every decibel. The effect is exciting and dramatic. But the Fugue has a different character, and is not as successful, hampered by Reger’s penchant for thick writing. In the Fantasia (and throughout most of this recording), the sound captured by the Naxos engineers is vivid, clear, and even spectacular. But the Fugue is a little muddled. Yet every climax is captured superbly; Reger—and Krapp—emerge in triumph as if through the clouds. This is a mighty work that deserves to be heard more often.
Reger wrote his seven organ pieces in 1915–16, in the midst of World War I. These pieces are dedicated to key moments in the liturgical year; yet the war clearly lingered in Reger’s mind as he wrote. One senses sadness during the first piece, which was dedicated to those who died in battle. The second piece is a psalm of thanks, titled, “What God does, that is well done.” Dedicated to the German people, this too has dark moments and builds to a treatment of the familiar hymn, Praise to the Lord the Almighty. As this title indicates, there is a sense of recognition of God’s sovereignty at a time of war. But even in moments of triumph, there is a haunting touch of uncertainty. This is great music.
The piece focuses on Christmas, and Reger incorporates familiar choruses, including Silent Night. This, too, has a dark hue; everything is not quite so “calm and bright.” The fourth part focuses on the passion of Christ. The fifth celebrates his resurrection with a form much more like a chorale. The sixth celebrates the Holy Ghost. Fleet keyboard runs are woven into a strong, declaratory conclusion. The seventh is a victory celebration, highlighted by Reger’s adaptation of the hymn, Now thank we all our God (with Deutschland, Deutschland über alles ringing in the pedals). Some may feel that this uncomfortably mixes politics with music, but this did not bother me, and I found it to be stirring music, and highly enjoyable.
This is Volume 7 in the Naxos collection of the organ music of Reger, and the first that features Krapp. All of the recordings in this series that I have heard have been outstanding. This one is too. Highly recommended.
Helmut Walcha was one of the most influential organists of the 20th century. His Chorale Preludes stand as a testament to his enrichment of the Lutheran tradition, building on the inheritance of Baroque masters to create works of great expressive clarity and contrapuntal transparency, as well as introducing highly individual organ colors and sonorities. Volumes 1 and 2 of this four volume complete collection can be found on Naxos 8.572910 and 8.572911.
Helmut Walcha was one of the most influential organists of the 20th century. His Chorale Preludes are works of considerable expressiveness and polyphonic clarity, which enrich the Lutheran tradition by combining the characteristics of the Baroque masters with highly individual organ colors and sonorities. This is the final volume of this first complete recording of Walcha's organ works.
Holst: Cotswolds Symphony, Japanese Suite / Falletta, Ulster Orchestra
Naxos
CD
$19.99Jun 26, 2012
Gustav Holst’s youthful enthusiasm for Wagner is reflected in his ebullient Walt Whitman overture written in 1899. Shortly afterwards he composed the Cotswolds Symphony which embraces hints of contemporary British folk music but is dominated by the slow movement, a profound elegy for the utopian socialist William Morris. Though completed at college, A Winter Idyll shows real orchestral assurance. Indra is an accomplished tone poem revealing Holst’s interest in the legends of India, whilst the glittering and evocative Japanese Suite was written in response to a request from a Japanese dancer appearing in London. The Ulster Orchestra is one of Northern Ireland’s cultural cornerstones and since its foundation in 1966 has become one of the major symphony orchestras in the United Kingdom and Ireland. JoAnn Falletta was appointed Principal Conductor in May 2011, the orchestra’s twelfth but first female and first American to be appointed to the post.
REVIEW:
All of this music is early with the exception of the Japanese Suite, and all of it has appeared on CD before, most notably (with the exception of the symphony) on the superb series of Holst discs issued over the years by Lyrita with such luminaries as Adrian Boult, David Atherton, and Nicholas Braithwaite at the helm. I would never want to part with those three Lyrita discs, but I find this new Naxos disc just as satisfying, and Falletta’s generally more inward, reflective style offers new insights. That it contains a performance of Holst’s only completed orchestral symphony, which gives the work new stature, only adds to its value as an addition to a discography understandably, but regrettably, dominated by one magnificent work. While only one of these works qualifies as a mature composition in a distinctive voice, even the student-written A Winter Idyll shows its composer in a good light, and proves that while fame may have eluded him until midlife, it was not for lack of talent or skill.
A Winter Idyll, the Walt Whitman Overture, and the “Cotswolds” Symphony, all effectively apprentice works written between 1897 and 1900, owe much to the example of the great German Romantics. The influence of Mendelssohn and Schumann in particular should not be surprising given Holst’s then-recent tutelage by Stanford and Parry at the Royal College of Music. And even a casual listener to the symphony will be able to guess that Holst was then much taken with Wagner. What is notable, however, is just how effectively he has already incorporated these voices into one of his own, albeit one less individual than that of the composer of The Planets, or Egdon Heath, or even Beni Mori of but a few years hence.
The symphony has had one previous recording on Classico with Douglas Bostock conducting. It is still available on other reissue labels, but Falletta’s performance improves on the earlier effort in every way. Tighter and weightier than Bostock in the main—though the scherzo is engagingly quicksilver—she convinces one that the symphony is much more than just a frame for the moving elegy for socialist visionary William Morris that comprises the second movement. Falletta similarly finds new depth in the transitional symphonic poem Indra (1903), emphasizing atmosphere and warmth where the alternative reading by Atherton inclines more toward brilliance and contrast.
The Japanese Suite is the one work here that is representative of the mature Holst, to the extent that any work can be said to represent a composer who notoriously hated to repeat himself. It reflects his developing interests in things Asian, and in folk music, and it shows him free of the old-school German romantic model. It was written in 1915 in response to a commission from Japanese dancer Michio Ito for a London recital, and so is exactly contemporaneous with The Planets. In fact, Holst stopped work on the larger suite to write the smaller one, and many ideas found in the former are adapted to the scale and delicacy of this attractive work that has been unfairly overshadowed by its bigger and more flamboyant sibling.
Its neglect may to some degree reflect the challenge it offers the conductor. Neither Falletta nor Andrew Davis in the other currently available recording on Chandos can match the character of Boult’s recording on Lyrita. More than either, Boult and the late-’60s London Symphony Orchestra bring out, through canny pacing, phrasing, and articulation of these haunting ancient tunes, the Japanese flavor Ito sought in this work. Falletta’s performance is still wonderfully sensitive and perfectly scaled, but here I must register my one clear preference for an alternative.
That said, clearly there is some good chemistry going in Ulster between its fine orchestra and the new American principal conductor. One can only hope that there will be many more releases like this in the future, and in the superb sound provided by the Grammy-winning producer and engineer, Tim Handley and Phil Rowlands. Definitely a winner.
Martinu: Complete Piano Music Vol 3 / Giorgio Koukl
Naxos
CD
$13.99$19.99Save 30%Aug 28, 2007
Interpretative excellence once again from Koukl.
The third volume of Giorgio Koukl’s survey of Martin?’s piano music is as successful as the previous two. In my review of the second disc of the series I described some of the differences between Koukl’s approach and that of Emil Leichner, whose Supraphon set of the piano music (not quite the complete piano music) has been something of a benchmark set for many years now. Koukl tends to etch rhythms with greater incision and Leichner tends to a greater sense of reflectiveness. This is certainly a crudely suggestive way of approaching these two important readings of the piano music but for the purposes of this review it does indicate the divergences of approach that both men bring to bear. It may also help direct you if you wish to follow one or the other – though of course there are a number of other discs by other pianists worthy of note.
The Sonata is the most important work here. Koukl is sensitive to the Poco allegro marking here whilst Leichner prefers to emphasise the Allegro rather at the expense of the poco. I suspect this is to mitigate what Leichner may have detected as structural problems and to vest the opening with a powerful drive so as to balance the concluding Adagio. Leichner certainly makes the most of the contrasts here, despite the relative speed, and though his overall timing is very similar to Koukl’s the distribution amongst the three individual movements is very different. Though Leichner manages to find light and shade in his opening movement Koukl’s greater deliberation pays dividends. And he finds just the right sense of starkness and deliberation in that powerful Adagio finale which he plays with gravity and singular intensity.
The depth of Koukl’s bass is palpable in the Fantasie et Toccata. Its immediacy is arresting and stresses the abrupt dynamism of the writing. Koukl’s playing here locates the imperturbable violence and threat in the writing – it was written in 1940 after all. This is a more intensive and tensile approach than Leichner’s rather more skittish neo-classicism, though one wouldn’t want to underestimate Leichner’s determined commitment to the bellicose writing. Koukl certainly brings the edginess and brittle attacks of the Toccata very much to the fore. This is valiant and perceptive playing indeed, emphasised by the very immediate nature of the studio recording.
After these two powerful and important statements we turn to the Etudes and Polkas – lighter fare written in 1945. These brief and expert pieces – none lasting longer than three minutes - bring out Koukl’s instinct for rhythmic vivacity and alluring tone. As one might expect he’s generally – not always but usually – faster than Leichner and this brings advantages in terms of terpsichorean vitality. Curiously Leichner feels the Pastorale of the First Volume rather faster than Koukl – I thought it would be the other way around. The three Czech Dances round off the programme and Koukl, Prague born, knows all about them. He can do the Obkro?ák with the best of them.
Interpretative excellence once again from Koukl - and so volume four is awaited with anticipation.
Simon Mayr: L'armonia, Etc / Hauk, Or, Piriu, Et Al
Naxos
CD
$19.99Dec 12, 2006
German-born Simon Mayr received his musical training in Italy (he's also properly known by his Italian name Giovanni Simone Mayr), and that's where he spent his career writing both operas and sacred vocal music at the cathedral of Santa Maria Maggiore in Bergamo. One thing's clear about this composer/teacher/choir master: he knew his Mozart, Haydn, and Beethoven, and if you like their sacred and theatrical music, you'll enjoy this program featuring two delightful cantatas. L'Armonia, an extended (45-minute) near-opera with three scenes, characters, choruses, virtuoso arias, and well-developed recitatives, was presented on the occasion of a state visit to Bergamo in 1825 by the Emperor Franz I and his entourage. It contains all the conventions of the day to satisfy and impress an imperial audience--the references to classical poets and mythology, symbolic associations to the emperor's benevolence and wisdom (not to mention a surprise tribute to the Empress), grand choruses and florid arias glorifying the defense of the nation's and its people's ideals in battle, and textual quotations espousing the goals of harmony and peace.
But rather than being tedious and predictable, Mayr treats us to some very appealing, expertly crafted music that handily combines some dramatic and very demanding Mozartian opera-style arias--beautifully sung by all three soloists--with choruses right out of the church works of Mozart and Haydn. The pacing is swift and conductor Franz Hauk keeps his forces tightly together most of the time--some ragged instrumental ensemble and choral intonation slips are only occasionally noticeable. Mayr also cleverly uses a harp at opportune moments to add color and for symbolic reference to the Bards, which are among the cantata's "characters".
And speaking of references, if you know Beethoven, you'll have fun picking out Mayr's nifty insertions of excerpts from some of the master's works in the Cantata for the Death of Beethoven. This 15-minute piece was basically cobbled together from original material and from existing works, and again, it's a very satisfying listen marked by strong vocal writing for the soloists and stylish orchestration. Once more I do have to mention the solo singers--soprano Talia Or, tenor Altin Piriù, and bass Nikolay Borchev--all first class and very solid in some very challenging music. They have a lot to do here, and they really carry the show. A pleasant surprise!
DURUFLÉ Fugue on the Carillon of the Cathedral of Soissons. Prelude, Adagio, and Choral Variations on “Veni Creator.” Prelude on the Introit of the Epiphany. Scherzo, op. 2. Prelude and Fugue on the Name of Alain. Meditation, op. posth. Hommage à Jean Gallon. Suite, op. 5 • Henry Fairs (org) • NAXOS 8.557924 (73:21)
Duruflé, a student of Charles Tournemire and Louis Vierne, is unabashedly post-Romantic. His music is characterized by lyrical sweetness even when it is Plainchant derived or contrapuntally rigorous. For a recording to be successful, it must convey more than a dollop of atmosphere, the full impact of his delicate registration colors, and linear clarity. All of these prerequisites are fulfilled in these performances by Henry Fairs and his aptly chosen Organ of Notre-Dame d’Auteuil, Paris (Cavaillé-Coll 1884–1885).
This release encounters worthy competition from a Loft offering featuring Hans Davidsson performing on the Verschueren Organ, 1998, Göteborg, Sweden (Loft 1054), and a Sanctuary Classics Resonance disc featuring David M. Patrick on the Organ of Gloucester Cathedral (3073). In Meditation, op. Posth., Fairs is more meditative than the estimable David M. Patrick, and his pedal tones are more impressively recorded. In the feathery Scherzo, op. 2, Fairs is a bit more otherworldly than Patrick, and, as before, his pedal tones are more viscerally registered. The more dynamically varied Suite, op. 5, is given a splendid performance by Hans Davidsson on Loft, a company that has provided more than its fair share of stunning organ recordings. Davidsson’s recording is more close-up and timbrally colorful than Fairs’s, but doesn’t quite pack the full wallop of the piece’s pedal tones. The Loft effort has marginally less dynamic range than Naxos’s. Both performances are splendid. One’s preference will probably be dictated by the tolerance of one’s neighbors—the Loft offering has more impact when played at lower levels than does Fairs’s, which requires cranking things up a bit in order to taste it to the fullest degree.
In sum, this is a fine effort. The two comparison discs offer multi-composer collections, but Naxos, in its ongoing attempt to record the everything of everybody, dedicates its entire disc (which claims to contain his entire organ output) to Duruflé. Add to this Naxos’s budget price, and . . .
Typically, full organ specs are provided in the well-written and highly informative liner notes.
