Born in 1971, Marco lo Muscio is an organist, pianist and composer who has performed on the great organs of Europe and the US. His own music been performed by the likes of Christopher Herrick, Thomas Trotter and David Briggs. This album focuses on another, more intimate side of his output. There are pieces dedicated to his mother and to the memory of his late father; tributes to both Debussy and Satie; meditations on literary themes from the work of J.R.R. Tolkien in a neo-medieval style; a pair of ricercari originally composed for organ, paying homage to Renaissance-era counterpoint; and to begin with Three American Preludes. Composed in 2001, the first two of the preludes were also Lo Muscio’s first works intended for the piano. Their bluesy harmonies and ostinato bass lines are inspired by the playing of Bill Evans and Keith Jarrett. The third of them (from 2009) is a homage to Jarrett, but composed in the style of prog rock – an idiom that the organist adopted with such success that he began to work with the guitarist Steve Hackett, founder member of Genesis. Since first meeting Hackett in 2008, Lo Muscio has made many transcriptions of prog rock classics (by Genesis and others) in a parallel career to his own compositions. The two careers intersect here with Horizons, written by Hackett in 1972 for the Genesis album Foxtrot, and itself derived from the Prelude to Bach’s G major Cello Suite. In 2009 Lo Muscio composed his own Meditations on Horizons, which transforms elements of Hackett’s piece with a habanera rhythm Having established a career as a pianist with a speciality in the music of Bach (as winner of the 1995 J.S.Bach International Piano Competition), Andrea Padova has attracted international praise for his performances and recordings. His performance of the Goldberg Variation has won glowing encomia: The Washington Post wrote that he ‘conveys the sense of successfully exceeding the limits of human possibility.’ This is his debut recording on Brilliant Classics.

Recent scholarship on Luis Misón (Mataró, 1727–Madrid, 1766) demonstrates the growing interest among the musicological community in studying the life and work of one who is an essential composer in the history of Spanish music. Musical historiography has extolled Misón's contribution to the genre of the tonadilla escénica, a genre widely appreciated in his time and which must have had a notable influence on his instrumental music, about which less is known. His talent as a flautist was appreciated within the noble circle of the House of Alba, where musical academies were held in which Misón actively participated and for which he composed 12 sonatas for transverse flute and bass dedicated to the Duke of Alba. These pieces were located in the archives of the House of Alba and described in 1927 by José Subirá (1882–1980), but unfortunately they disappeared during the Spanish Civil War (1936–39). The discovery of the five hitherto unknown Sonatas for Flute and Bass by Misón represents a substantial contribution to the Spanish chamber music repertoire of the second third of the 18th century for this instrument, given the scarcity of pieces written by Hispanic composers contemporary to Misón in which the flute is definitely the real protagonist. Moreover, they are sonatas which, from a technical point of view, pose interesting challenges to the flautist, something that highlights Misón's mastery of the flute, in accordance with surviving documentation of the period.

Ortega explains that José Teixidor (c.1751–c.1811), vice-master of the Royal Chapel from 1778, considered his works to be no lesser than those of the best-known foreign composers and said of him that he was an unequalled performer on the transverse flute. The sonatas are found in five musical manuscripts preserved in the Lebrija Palace in Seville, a stately home dating from the 16th century, which in 1901 became the property of Regla Manjón y Mergelina (1851–1938), Countess of Lebrija. With regard to the sources, it seems unlikely that any of the five are autograph. (Although up to five different copyists have been identified, there is nothing to suggest that any of them could be Misón, himself.) Generally speaking, the sonatas are characterised by the importance of melody, regular phrases and steady rhythms, as can be seen in the elaborate seisillos of the Allegro moderato of the Sonata [No.3] in G major. Overall, the basso continuo line is simple – excepting the B section of the Allegro of the Sonata [No.4] in G major (undated) – allowing the role of the flute to stand out prominently. This recording is the culmination of a long process of recovery of Spanish 18th-century musical heritage that deserves to be disseminated, studied and enhanced. After more than two centuries of silence, Misón's music is heard again.

Federigo Fiorillo (1755-1823) is principally remembered now as a composer, and in particular the author of a set of solo Caprices which formed a method of which formed a method of instruction for every advanced violinist. Until now, however, they have never been recorded on Fiorillo’s ‘second’ instrument of the viola; and indeed complete recordings of the set, even on violin, are very few.

With this new recording, Marco Misciagna demonstrates that these 36 pieces have much more than pedagogic interest to them. While they systematically address technical issues in the bow arm and fingering, testing the player’s technique for playing octaves, multiple stopping, passagework, chromatic scales and so on, Fiorillo was a Italianate melodist who naturally wrote and thought in long, cantabile lines which are as grateful to hear as they are to play.

Born in 1984, Marco Misciagna studied in Bari and Rome and then with Salvatore Accardo; he now lives and works in Spain. Among his previous recordings is a Brilliant Classics album of a similar undertaking, the 41 Capricci for viola by Bartolomeo Campagnoli (1751–1827).

The 19th century salon was a major vehicle for the spread of culture and the transmission of new artistic and literary trends in Europe, as well as being a space overtly dominated by women. Aiming to recreate the musical atmosphere of a 19th-century salon, this recording revolves around two fundamental objectives. The first, to perform music by women who, as composers, performers and hostesses, were absolute cornerstones of these spaces. Second, to perform the songs, originally accompanied by piano, with newly made guitar arrangements.

The arrangements on this album have been made following a scrupulous transcription from the piano parts, retaining the harmonic essence whilst capturing the full polyphonic interplay. Several guitar effects have also been incorporated (tambora, harmonics, strumming, etc.), bringing a fresh twist to the original versions. All this contributes not only to expanding the guitar repertoire, but to the discovery of unfamiliar works.

Pauline Viardot (1821–1910) was born in Paris to a highly musical Spanish family and enjoyed an illustrious career as a singer. Returning to Paris in 1870, she established one of the most important musical salons of the time. Viardot’s songs have palpable Spanish roots, and her later pieces, like ‘Caña española’, were likely influenced by her father’s compositions. María Malibrán (1808–1836), Viardot’s elder sister, is most famous as an illustrious Spanish opera diva. Isabel Colbrán (1784/5–1845) was a Spanish opera singer and the first wife of composer Gioachino Rossini. In the early years of her career, she composed 24 short Italian arias which bear a certain Rossinian stamp. That said, as those arias were written before she met Rossini, it must be queried who influenced whom.

Pauline Duchambge (1778–1858) is perhaps the least known of these composers, and this album showcases a number of her songs that have never previously been recorded. A pianist, singer and guitarist, Duchambge studied composition with Cherubini and Auber, mainly composing romances on idealised romantic or historical themes (for example, ‘Celle qui voudrait m’aimer’).

Fanny Hensel (1805–1847) was the elder sister of Felix Mendelssohn. Although she received a thorough musical education, Fanny’s father barred her from publishing her compositions. Several of her songs were published under Felix’s name, including ‘Die Nonne’, but she later published the set containing ‘Schwanenlied’ under her married name. She hosted the so-called ‘Musical Sundays’, soirées attended by leading artists and intellectuals of the day, including Clara and Robert Schumann, Heine, Paganini, and Gounod.

The life of Clara Wieck (1819–1896) was demanding, given that she had to be the bread-winner for her eight children as a concert pianist, owing to her husband Robert Schumann’s mental illness. The two lieder on this album are from Clara and Robert’s jointly published Zwölf Lieder song cycle.

Ferdinand Ries may still be known almost exclusively to the musical world as Beethoven’s friend, pupil, secretary and first biographer, but Brilliant Classics have done much to broaden our understanding of this significant figure in the Vienna of the early 19th century with albums of his own compositions, notably his sonatas for violin, cello and flute and his Piano Quintet.

The Op. 28 Clarinet Trio is one of Ries’s best-known pieces, as well it might be for the mellifluous appeal of its writing for all three instruments. The two sonatas for clarinet and piano are much more Romantic-sounding, atmospherically evocative and forward-looking pieces. The Op. 29 work begins with a passionately pleading slow introduction, which segues masterfully into a main Allegro of positively Schubertian vitality. After a brief but deeply felt slow movement, the finale mirrors the first movement’s form and intensifies the tempestuous, troubled expression of the sonata as a whole. The E flat major Sonata Op. 129 is all sunshine compared to Op. 29’s storm and thunder: a delight from start to finish, inflected by the kind of Italianate drama and cantabile that began to make its mark on German and Austrian composers in the 1810s and 20s,

As one of Belgium’s foremost clarinettists, Vlad Weverbergh has his own big band and klezmer group, but he is also a member of I Solisti del Vento, the wind ensemble uniting the finest Belgian wind players. He has made a specialty of reviving, performing, and recording lesser-known treasures of the clarinet repertoire, as well as collecting and playing instruments from the rich history of the clarinet, such as the unusual clarinetto d’amore which he uses on this recording.

François Devienne (1759–1803) was a contemporary of Mozart and one of the few virtuosos who didn’t have to flee his own country to get noticed. Born in Joinville, France, the youngest of the 14 children of a saddle maker, Devienne received his formative musical instruction as a choirboy in his hometown and quickly developed into a flute player of formidable gifts, studying with Felix Rault. He was active in Paris as a flautist, bassoonist and composer and played bassoon at the Paris Opera. He was also a sergeant and member of the Military Band of the French Guard, where he was given the responsibility of teaching his military band colleagues’ children in its Free School of Music. After the Revolutionary period, when the Free School became the National Institute of Music, later chartered as the Paris Conservatory in 1795, Devienne was appointed as flute professor, where he taught from 1795 to 1803. He also wrote the Méthode de Flûte Théorique et Pratique (1793), which was reprinted several times and did much to improve the level of French wind music in the late 18th century.

His output includes opera, extensive educational work, and approximately 300 instrumental works that were mostly written for wind instruments. There are about 20 flute concertos, mainly written for his own use, and many of his works are still popular today in standard flute repertoire. His VII Concerto in E minor, for example, contains all the poetry and aesthetics of his music – it is quintessentially beautiful, charming, melodious and witty. Devienne's compositions for flute, revived by Jean-Pierre Rampal in the 1960s, became well-known among flutists. Unfortunately, Devienne’s fortunes declined suddenly in the new century and he died in 1803, four months after being committed to the Charenton insane asylum.

The Six duos Op.2 were written in 1786 for the captain of the guard of the Artois Count. They are a collection of six duos for two flutes, each of them divided into two movements. The general atmosphere exuded throughout the set is playful, fresh and bright, possibly because of the absence of the slow and thoughtful second movement that traditionally would have been placed between the first and last allegros. There is no shortage of singable and lyrical melodies, though: the Gracioso con Variatione, the second movement of the third duet, is a prime example. The movement markings chosen by Devienne are primarily Allegro, Rondeau, Gracioso and Menuetto. Every tempo mark is set between a moderate and a fast, lively tempo, in order to develop either the lyrical themes or display the shimmering virtuosity of the flutes. In fact, it seems that the composer’s aim was to make the listener feel like there is only one flute playing instead of two: the sound, the articulation and the phrasing of each must be as similar to one another as possible. Needless to say, these are the greatest difficulties to deal with for the musicians. Furthermore, the pieces were written to accompany the lives of the aristocracy, for example celebrations and tea parties, which is why this kind of music is also called ‘salon music’. The two flutists made their recording using the first edition sheet music published by Sieber in Paris, c.1786.

Highpoints of virtuosity in Bach’s output and the Baroque organ repertoire, in new recordings by an organist with a rich catalogue of success on Brilliant Classics to his credit. As well as a host of obscure composers, Manuel Tomadin has recorded many central figures in the organ repertoire, from Buxtehude to Rheinberger. His Bach discography includes the Leipziger Choräle, BWV 651-667 (94556) and an original ‘Harmonic Seasons’ album (95786) pairing preludes and fugues with chorales that tell a story of rebirth and quiescence through the four seasons. For his latest album, he turns to undisputed highlights of the repertoire: the collection of six sonatas in three parts which Bach compiled in the late 1720s. By then he had settled into his post as Capellmeister in Leipzig, and with this set of works was evidently aiming to leave his contribution to the already rich literature of trio sonatas which had originated some decades earlier in Italy and subsequently spread across Europe, as a means of crossing sacred and secular divides with music conceived for performance by either a single keyboard player or a chamber group of musicians Being Bach, however, he determined to produce not merely another volume in the library. While he drew the material for the trio sonatas from earlier pieces, he refined and adapted them with all the ingenuity and harmonic invention at his disposal, making the finished set among the most demanding pieces ever written for the organ, then or now. The trio sonatas are accordingly often performed by a trio of chamber musicians, but there is a special freshness and virtuosity to be savoured when they are played, as here and as originally intended, by a single organist. As Manuel Tomadin notes in his valuable booklet introduction, the six sonatas run the gamut of expressive feeling, from a gravity of pathos in the central Largo of the C minor Sonata No.2 to the irrepressible joy of the finale to the C major No.5. He has made these new recordings on an instrument with an excellent Bachian pedigree: the Bosch/Schnitger organ (1686/1720) of the Hervormde church in the Dutch town of Vollenhove, and the booklet includes a full specification for the instrument.

Born in 1949, Fabio Vacchi stands among the pre-eminent Italian composers of his generation. Working primarily in the operatic field, he has had pieces staged at the Teatro alla Scala and by the Opéra Comique in Paris, the Opera de Lyon, the Maggio Musicale in Florence and the Teato Comunale in his home city of Bologna. Vacchi’s instrumental pieces have attracted similar high-profile performances. His chamber cycle Luoghi Immaginari (1987-1992), has been given across the world, including at the Salzburg Mozarteum conducted by Daniel Harding. Other pieces were commissioned by Claudio Abbado and by the Tokyo Quartet.

The most substantial piece on this new collection of his chamber pieces was commissioned by the Swedish guitarist Magnus Andersson and first performed by him in 1997 as a guitar concerto; this Quintetto Notturno Concertante dates from 2012 and is a masterful condensation of the complexities of the original, rich instrumental texture, while preserving its fleeing moods and subtly shifting changes of harmony. At the other end of this collection, Livia Rado sings Flow my Dowland, a rapturous transformation of five songs by the Elizabethan lutenist, in which the original vocal part is richly embroidered by Vacchi’s own modern reimagination of the accompanying part, scored for a small ensemble of winds, strings, vibraphone and harp, to melting and magical effect. In between come a pair of solo works, though in fact Plynn quotes Britten’s Nocturnal after John Dowland as a study of harmonics on the guitar, evoking its most dreamlike and insubstantial timbres. The earliest piece here is a Suite for flute and guitar, dating from 1971. Here, the 22-year-old Vacchi is at his most experimental in terms of both form and harmony, employing extraneous elements such as pen and paper and sending both instruments to the extremes of their register, though always with an intrinsically idiomatic sympathy. Any listener with an ear for the Italian postwar avant-garde will find this newly recorded album full of delight and discovery.

New, fun-filled arrangements—with historical authenticity on their side—bring bright and breezy curtain-raisers by a once-celebrated contemporary of Mozart to life.

In a career not much longer than Mozart’s, Domenico Cimarosa (1749-1801) wrote an astonishing total of 64 works for the stage—as well as substantial collections of symphonies, concertos, and sonatas—that were performed across the length and breadth of Europe.

Cimarosa specialized in lighthearted comedies, for which he supplied stylishly upbeat scores, shot through with Italianate lyricism, and a kind of impetuous vigor which was all his own. This quality makes his overtures particularly suitable for transcription to the kind of plucked-ensemble chamber versions heard on this enterprising new album. During the period after unification, the mandolin became a popular instrument much as the ukulele and the balalaika did elsewhere: relatively easy to learn, highly portable, and well suited to being played in ensemble as a kind of instrumental choir.

The Anedda Quintet have devised a unique synthesis of the two approaches, adding a strong bass component to the classic quartet line-up. This collection of Cimarosa is mainly comprised of modern arrangements by the composer Michele Di Filippo, who had already collaborated with the Anedda Quintet for a previous Brilliant Classics album of Rossini arrangements (95904). In adapting these orchestral scores, Di Filippo aimed to make the melodies sing out while preserving a sense of dialogue, tension, and drama between instruments.

Played by Jeroen van Veen, the solo-piano collection (95129) of themes from Yann Tiersen’s film scores is a Brilliant Classics best seller. Now also available, some of Tiersen’s best-known melodies arranged for guitar by George Tossikian, who has given many successful concerts of this repertoire. Tiersen shot to worldwide fame with his quirky, haunting score for the Oscar-winning Amélie (2001), but by that point he had gained considerable experience composing soundtracks for short films and incidental music for plays. Several of these pieces ended up on his first album, Valse des Monstres (1995); they also featured intricate arrangements incorporating various instruments. Borrowing from French folk music, chanson, musette waltz, and street music, as well as rock, avant-garde, and classical and minimalist influences, Tiersen’s deceptively simple style has a classical base in the music of Chopin, Satie, Philip Glass and Michael Nyman. His gentle melodies lends themselves to the intimate language of the guitar, and Tossikian has selected pieces from throughout Tiersen’s career, focusing on these two albums but also including the title track La Plage. Since the days of Segovia, guitarists have practised the art of transcription, and the Greek guitarist George Tossikian continues that tradition with this album. In pieces scored for solo piano or violin, he has aimed for close fidelity, whereas in the ensemble numbers he has taken a freer, more creative approach in order to recreate the colors of Tiersen’s score using guitar techniques such as natural harmonics and tremolo. The result is no less delightful or captivating than the originals.

The piano duet was an opportunity to have fun and make music with friends for Mendelssohn as it was for many other 19th-century composers, who wrote pieces that far transcended their domestic origins and often arranged their larger-scale works for the medium so that it could be appreciated by listeners where full orchestral performances were much harder to come by. In 1844 Mendelssohn made his own piano-duet arrangement of the Incidental music he had composed to accompany a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream in Potsdam two years earlier, a suite which itself drew on the precociously immortal Overture he had composed as a 16-year-old. The magical purity of the orchestral score is here translated into a limpid graininess which renders each phrase even more crystalline than in the symphonic version, especially in its most rapid passages. The relationship between the two versions might be likened to that between a sketch and a painting, though with no certainty as to which had been composed first. A comparison of the full-colour orchestral score with the ‘black and white’ of the piano-duet arrangement reveals how the timbres of Mendelssohn’s orchestral imagination stem from the conceptual outlines and regular forms first devised on a keyboard. Thus the arrangement has plenty to reveal about the score to even to listeners intimately familiar with the fully scored original. Having given the triumphant premiere of the overture to The Fair Melusine in Leipzig in 1836, Mendelssohn then arranged it for piano duet the same year. Again, every phrase of the symphonic original resounds with greater emphasis: the yielding swell of the waves is evoked by a delicacy of touch rendered almost liquid by brushing of the damper pedal.

The organ of the Badia Fiorentina monastery in the centre of Florence is one of the finest surviving examples of an Italian renaissance organ, completed in 1558 by the Tuscan organ builder Onofrio Zeffirini. The characteristically Italian timbre of the organ and its historical temperament make it the perfect instrument for performing repertoire from the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries. In her own booklet-note introduction to the repertoire on this album, Giovanna Riboli explains that she has chosen a sequence of repertoire to display the organ at its most characteristic, but also to give a guided tour to high-points of European organ music of the late 16th and early 17th centuries. She opens her recital with a pair of toccatas, by the Venetian Gabrieli and the Florentine Frescobaldi, that give voice to the instrument’s most brilliant registers. A variation set by Pasquini enables her to range over the impressive stop-list including rarities such as a Nightingale stop. There are two representatives of the English keyboard school, Byrd and Farnaby, at their most extrovert and virtuosic, and then two substantial pieces by the founder of the North German organ school, Sweelinck, followed by an ‘English masquerade’ by his pupil Scheidemann. Giovanna Riboli rounds off this imaginatively programmed album in reflective mode with the Tiento y discurso de segundo tono by the Spanish composer and organist Francisco Correa de Arauxo. The album’s expressive journey is astutely planned, and her playing of this historic instrument brings out all its antique tone- colors.

REVIEW:

This disc, another in the series that Brilliant Classics is devoting to Italian organs and organ music, upholds the high standards of preceding entries for Renaissance and Baroque music. Giovanni Riboli is the skilled executant on this Cook’s tour of 16th- and early 17th-century Western European organ repertoire. The instrument is rather closely recorded, but sounds well. The English-Italian booklet provides detailed notes by Riboli on the organ and the composers, including specifications, along with an artist bio and photos. This is an attractive recital disc, and recommended accordingly.

– Fanfare

The first half of the 18th century was a period of intense evolution for instruments belonging to the flute family, as materials (wood to metal), sizes and ranges all developed prior to the key-system devised in the 19th century. The recorder (or pair thereof) which plays the starring role in the poignant sinfonia to Bach’s Actus Tragicus of 1708 is quite different to the lambent, creamy-toned flute played by Frederick the Great and for which he wrote the trio sonata belonging to the Musical Offering of 40 years later. Whether composed by JS or his son CPE, the sonata BWV1020 has a sunny disposition belying its minor key even in the lovely central Adagio. This version of BWV1039 – originally designed as a sonata for viola da gamba, BWV1027, then transcribed for two flutes and continuo – features the dark and velvety tone of the tenor recorder in D. Unlike most other recordings of the Flute Sonata BWV1032, Stefano Bagliano and Andrea Coen have completed the first movement from the point where 46 bars are missing from Bach’s manuscript, resulting in a more satisfying, musical experience. The chorale ‘O Mensch, bewein dein Sunde gross’, as the meditative climax of the Orgelbuchlein collection, proves delightfully amenable to an arrangement where the chorale line is taken by the melody instrument, and the two instruments pick out the liveliest inner workings of the Canonic Fugue from the Musical Offering as well as a pair of Contrapuncti from The Art of Fugue (Nos. 6 & 9). Two trio works originally composed with organ in mind round out the collection, which finds Andrea Coen adroitly shuttling between harpsichord and a chamber organ. With wonderfully varied textures and a poetic sensibility to be expected from these two experienced Baroque-era specialists, it’s a Bach album to treasure.