This is another collection of American classics that deserves the highest praise. With exemplary playing, singing and an acoustic to match this is plainly indispensable.

Thankfully this isn’t the umpteenth recording of Appalachian Spring but a collection of lesser-known Copland. As always this music is quintessentially American, the suite from his opera The Tender Land, the bluesy piano concerto and the Old American Songs, the latter in choral arrangements. Appropriately enough the orchestra is the Illinois-based Elgin Symphony, which has embarked on an ambitious project called In Search of Our American Voice. Helping them in this endeavour are the St. Charles Singers, a multi-talented chamber choir founded in 1984.

Speaking of voices, Copland has a unique, instantly recognisable ‘voice’ of his own and that is clear from the first bars of The Tender Land suite. In his illuminating liner-notes Joseph Horowitz reminds us that although this has a Depression-era rural setting one could argue that, in part at least, it’s also Copland’s response to the McCarthyist witch hunt of the 1950s.

Interestingly the suite, arranged after the opera’s premiere in 1954, starts with the introduction to Act 3 and the love duet between the farm girl Laurie Moss and her drifter beau, Martin. The second movement is based on the party in Act II and the final movement comes from the quintet,’ ‘The Promise of Living’, at the end of Act I.

Whatever Copland’s intentions the music is not far removed from the Pennsylvanian hills of Appalachia, with its open, unpretentious scoring. The usual epithets ‘folksy’ and ‘homespun’ apply but there is also a degree of disquiet reflected in the brass at the start of this movement. The ensuing harp melodies are most affecting in their simplicity and directness, Robert Hanson securing warm, idiomatic playing from his orchestra.

The recording is clear and detailed, notably in the vigorous party music, and there’s no sign of strain or grain in the climaxes. Indeed, it’s an almost perfect acoustic for such a lucid score, the surging music of the last movement lovingly shaped and projected. This is vintage Copland and hearing this music may spur you to try the opera itself.

Horowitz makes the point that Copland’s piano concerto was somewhat eclipsed by Gershwin’s much better known effort, written the year before. It doesn’t have the latter’s Broadway-inspired razzamatazz but what it does have is a more sophisticated, cosmopolitan feel to it. The insouciant, bluesy first movement – introduced with the usual fanfare – has the pianist doodling quietly at the keyboard. Benjamin Pasternack captures the languor of this movement very well indeed, the piano ideally placed and faithfully recorded. Copland’s detailed scoring is wonderfully realised too, the more expansive moments thrillingly intense but never overheated.

The doodler is back in the second movement, his random notes followed by raucous music that has a real swing to it. The drums and percussion are certainly reminiscent of Gershwin but there is a fresh, individual quality to this concerto. Pasternack is suitably foot-stompin’ in those repeated jazzy phrases and the Elgin players give him wonderful support throughout. But it’s the final minute or so that’s the real tour de force, with the splendid percussion chasing the pianist all the way to the finish line.

This is exhilarating stuff and quite possibly the most enjoyable item on the disc – go on, give it another whirl – so the choral arrangements of the Old American Songs needs to be pretty special to top that. Most listeners probably know these pieces in their original scoring for voice and piano; if that’s the version you want do try Willard White on Chandos CHAN 8960.

Alas, first impressions of the choral arrangements aren’t very encouraging, baritone Nathaniel Stampley’s rather wide vibrato spoiling ‘The Boatmen’s Dance’. The St. Charles singers are another matter entirely; they are clear and nimble and, to be fair, Stampley does improve in ‘The Dodger’. Those who have heard Willard White in this repertoire will know just how much character and personality he brings to bear in these songs. Well worth seeking out.

The Elgin Symphony is never less than excellent and the chorus sing eloquently in the ballad ‘Long Time Ago’. Diction could be clearer but with such heartfelt singing it seems churlish to complain. And then there’s ‘Simple Gifts’, the Shaker hymn we know from Appalachian Spring, essayed here with a wonderful sense of innocence and optimism. They even manage the farmyard onomatopoeia of ’I Bought Me a Cat’ which, if you don’t mind this kind of silliness, will probably put a smile on your face.

Really it’s the chorus that makes these arrangements stand out; their bright, focused sound is invariably pleasing, even if the music doesn’t always sound like Copland. They are also suitably impassioned – febrile, even – in the Revivalist hymn ‘Zion’s Walls’. Then Stampley and tenor Jeffrey Hunt join them for a spirited rendition of ’The Golden Willow Tree’. Both soloists acquit themselves well here and for once the quirky orchestration actually sounds like authentic Copland.

Of the two remaining songs the hymn tune ‘At The River’ could have been penned by Charles Ives, such is its mix of devotional text and strange harmonies. Hanson and his band bring this music to a stirring close before launching into the utterly delightful ‘Ching-a-ring Chaw’. If you haven’t smiled so far then this will surely do the trick, the singing and playing pin-sharp and full of fun. An upbeat finale to an enchanting disc.

Minor caveats about the baritone aside this is another collection of American classics that deserves the highest praise. With exemplary playing, singing and an acoustic to match this is plainly indispensable. And the song texts are included as well, which is a welcome bonus. Buy it and enjoy.

-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International

Born in New York in 1928, Nicolas Flagello began his career as a concert pianist touring widely in the States and Europe. During his student years he had also been a conducting pupil of Dimitri Mitropoulos, and in 1962 was appointed as Music Director of the Rome Symphony Orchestra. As a composer he studied with Vittorio Giannani, an American of Italian descent whose mentor had been Goldmark. It comes as no surprise therefore to find that Flagello inherited a cosmopolitan background, and on his death, at the early age of 66, he left a considerable catalogue of scores, the earliest dating back to his early twenties, though he was forty before he completed his first symphony. Looking back at a previous Flagello review I described his idiom as 'Korngold orchestrating Hindemith's thematic material', a description I would be happy to attach to the present disc. I could add 'Rachmaninov meets Hollywood' to set the scene for the First Piano Concerto, its opening in a rich and dramatic mood offering unlimited space for virtuoso solo display. Conventional relaxed Andante comes before we turn full circle for another shot of brilliant orchestral colours. For Dante's Farewell we are in the world of opera, the big scene highly rewarding for the solo soprano. The Saxophone Quartet Concerto - his last completed work - is highly engaging, its lyrical centrepiece offset by the wild conclusion full of spine tingling excitement. Performances are of mixed origin, but share the same degree of conviction, with soloists that are unfailingly superb, the gorgeous voice of Susan Gonzalez being a major discovery that I am itching to hear again. Sound quality is good, and has the bass drum ever been more realistically captured than in the finale of the saxophone concerto? One of the most enjoyable American music discs I have heard.

"David's Review Corner"
June, 2006

Nicolas Flagello was one of those composers who was a skilled craftsman, and very much a member of his "school", that school being American "neo" something-or-other (fill in the blank with either "classical" or "romantic", it doesn't much matter which). If you like the school, and there's plenty to like, then you will like Flagello. During the dark days of the 1960s and '70s, tonally speaking, facing little if any prospect of performance, he left some of his larger works in short score, hence Anthony Sbordini's sensitive orchestration of Dante's Farewell, a moving scena for soprano based on works by Mrs. Dante. It's a lovely, affecting piece that would have been wonderful had it been sung by someone with a voice far more appealing than that of Susan Gonzalez.

The First Piano Concerto is a bold, passionate, memorably tuneful work that takes its romanticism seriously. There's plenty of storm and stress, and my only quibble is that there doesn't seem to be any particular motivation for the piano and orchestra to divide the musical argument the way that they do. In that sense, it's an odd piece, but still a good listen. Tatjana Rankovich already has recorded Flagello's Second and Third Concertos, and she knows what she's doing, as does the orchestra under John McLaughlin Williams.

Best of all, though, is the Concerto Sinfonico, a late work dating from 1985. This has to be the best piece ever written for saxophone quartet and orchestra--not that there's all that much competition, but it really does work extremely well. The timbres that Flagello exploits are consistently ear-catching, the argument easy to follow but rewarding as well. The performance also sounds very comfortable--inside the idiom and aptly high-spirited. The Rutgers orchestra (of New Jersey) acquits itself proudly, and despite the different venues, the sonics are consistently good.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Dan Welcher, a professor at the University of Texas, composed Haleakala: How Maui Snared the Sun in 1991, when he was composer-in-residence at the Honolulu Symphony. The text, by Ann McCutchan, is drawn on a Polynesian folktale that sketches an origin for the seasons (yes, they do have them in Hawaii). Welcher's music, beginning with a Copland-esque vocabulary, follows the text closely but has convincing arcs of it's own; it is not a film soundtrack. Hawaiian percussion and bits of melody are employed. The story centers on a youthful trickster god named Maui, whose namesake is presumably one of the present Hawaiian islands. The narrator is none other than actor Richard Chamberlain.

Like Mozart's, the two string quintets of Brahms are scored for two violins, two violas and cello. The choice is characteristic. The register of the violas and the richness of texture that such an instrumentation can impart, whether in chamber music or in orchestral writing, was very typical of Brahms, and reflected in his music for the piano. He had first attempted the form in 1862, using two cellos, as Schubert had done, but had destroyed it, replacing it first with an arrangement for two pianos, and later, in a final version, as a piano quintet. Brahms had intended his String Quintet in G major, Op. 111, as his last chamber music composition. He wrote it in the summer of 1890 at Bad Ischl, following his usual custom of composing during summer holidays spent away from the city. It was, in the event, to be followed by four further compositions, the Clarinet Trio, the Clarinet Quintet, and two Clarinet Sonatas, the last also known in an effectively autumnal version for viola, an instrument offered in the other works as an alternative to the clarinet. The G major Quintet was first performed in Vienna on 11th November in the year of it's composition. It starts with a movement derived from sketches for a fifth symphony, allowing the cello an orchestrally conceived first subject. For the second subject Brahms turns to Vienna for inspiration. There is a shift to B flat major in the central development, further modulation leading to the return of the original key and thematic material in recapitulation. The D minor slow movement allows free variations on the opening material, until the theme returns in a simpler form, originally played by the first viola. The third movement opens in a melancholy G minor, the feeling dispelled by a G major trio section, which has the last word, after the re-appearance of the G minor material. The quintet ends with a Vivace ma non troppo presto, a rondo that finds a place for much else that is thoroughly Austrian or Austro-Hungarian in mood, ending in an energetic Hungarian czárdás.

There's certainly a niche for a budget series devoted to Dvorák's oeuvre for violin and piano. The violinist here, Qian Zhou, at first might not seem a familiar name, but many will remember her participation in the TV documentary featuring the late Isaac Stern's visit to China, "From Mao to Mozart", which has been broadcast by networks throughout the world. The American pianist Edmund Battersby accompanies Zhou with praiseworthy skill and sensitivity. Their program begins with a honeyed and alluring account of the lovely F minor Romance. It's good for a change to hear it played with keyboard accompaniment rather than in the orchestral edition as a makeweight filler on discs with the A minor concerto.


The Sonata in F has been surprisingly neglected on CD, making this impressive reading doubly welcome. But the two Supraphon recordings by Josef Suk are in a class apart in many ways, for Suk has one of the most personal, distinctive, and instantly recognizable tones around, and he plays this music with forceful insight and complete lack of self-aggrandizing rhetoric. Zhou and Battersby play with tremendous fire and energy (try them in the sizzling finale of Op. 57 for example), and also get plenty of punch and drama where it's needed, as in the big development section of the first movement of the F major sonata. But I wonder if anyone ever played the Four Romantic Pieces more bewitchingly than Itzhak Perlman and Samuel Sanders on their EMI recording, which also includes the Sonatina in G Op. 100. In both works, Perlman's masterful technique and matchless skill in vocalizing and inflecting his sound lends something special to his performances. Zhou hasn't the same skills--at least not yet--but plays with fine technical command and considerable feel for the music. Hopefully, these artists can retain such a consistently high level of musicianship in the next volume of this continuing cycle.
--Michael Jameson, ClassicsToday.com

This recording, the first devoted entirely to the music of Paul Fetler, features Ann Arbor poet and attorney Thomas H. Blaske as narrator in the evocative Three Poems by Walt Whitman, written to commemorate the American Bicentennial in 1976.

In December 2006, Gramophone Magazine named Dutch pianist Ralph van Raat “one to watch.” Now, with his second recording for Naxos, van Raat tackles one of the most important works of the modern piano literature: Frederic Rzewski’s fiendishly difficult set of 36 piano variations, The People United Will Never Be Defeated!

The People United Will Never Be Defeated! was written in only two months on a commission from American pianist Ursula Oppens, after Rzewski met Chilean composer Sergio Ortega. Three months before Salvador Allende’s death, Ortega heard a street-singer shout El Pueblo Unido Jamás Será Vencido!, which made him think immediately of a tune to accompany these words. A day later, the pop group Quilapayun played the melody. Since then, the tune has become an impassioned international symbol against any form of dictatorship. It was no surprise that Ortega and the politically leftist Rzewski greatly impressed and inspired each other when they met in Italy a few years later, resulting in Rzewski’s vision of this emblematic song.

One of the striking elements of this variation work is its length; the composition is a marathon for both the listener and for the performer. The extensive duration of its 36 variations is symbolic of the human struggle for change. Any struggle feels long, with many hurdles obstructing the final goal. The variations themselves all symbolize the different phases and aspects of a struggle: this readily explains the huge array of compositional styles that Rzewski has used, from angry, highly-energized modernism, via melancholic references to blues, calculated dense polyphony and nostalgic folk-music to written-out free jazz passages. Rzewski incorporates contemporary piano effects in some variations, which he charges with an unusual dramatic meaning (for example, the sound of a slammed piano lid in Variation 11, reminds one of a gunshot). Throughout all variations the intervals of Ortega’s theme are always present, whether they are used as a twelve-tone row or as a basis for a fugal passage.

Also featured on this recording is the popular Winnsboro Cotton Mill Blues, which was written in 1979 as part of the set North American Ballads. The basis for this work is an existing song bearing the same name, which cotton-mill workers used to sing while working.

Eric Moe is an alchemist of expressive extremes, from what he calls 'beautiful quiet music' to 'the rough, raucous stuff'. His exquisitely controlled music distils rare eloquence, grace, force and beauty from the incongruous elements of pop, rock, jazz.

Andy Teirstein' background in movement theater has given him a unique perspective on the dramatic possibilities of composition. The works heard here translate theatrical physicality into a variety of musical impulses, drawing inspiration from.

David Winkler has composed some two hundred works to date, including operas, symphonies, concertos, chamber music, choral music and song cycles. In recent years, he has developed a unique and powerful style which at once connects with traditional a.

Based on the true story of two teenage lovers the Holocaust tore apart forever, the dramatic song cycle for a Look or a Touch casts long-awaited light on the fate of gay Germans in the Holocaust. By noted young American opera composer Jake Heggie.