Also available on Blu-ray

Esa-Pekka Salonen leads the Philharmonia Orchestra in a unique performance of Holst's The Planets Suite, captured in High Definition by 37 cameras. This immersive experience takes the viewer to the heart of the Philharmonia as they perform this well-loved piece, using cameras placed in a multitude of positions and angles to create an extraordinary glimpse of the orchestra at work from within. As well as Holst's The Planets, the filmed performance also includes a new commission by UK composer Joby Talbot, Worlds, Stars, Systems, Infinity.

Additional features include a 'Making of' documentary feature, listening guide films for each planet, audio commentaries from conductor Esa-Pekka Salonen and principal players of the Philharmonia, and (for Blu-ray only) a bonus view option that allows a simultaneous view of the conductor and orchestra in action.

The Philharmonia Orchestra is committed to bringing classical music to new audiences in creative and exciting ways, and to this end has become a technological trailblazer in its adoption and adaptation of new technology. In 2010 the Re-Rite project allowed members of the public to experience Stravinsky's Rite of Spring for the first time from within the orchestra through audio/visual projections. Their 'Universe of Sound' project from which this release stems debuted at the Science Museum in London last year, and is set to tour the country in new installations during 2013.

Richard Hickox's performances of these two symphonies for Chandos are very good; indeed, his take on the first movement of the Sixth Symphony, so redolent of Sibelius' Third, is a touch more lively than that on offer here. But there's no denying the general superiority of the orchestral playing under Norman Del Mar, or Lyrita's richer sonics (Handley and the LSO only appear in the Soliloquy, very well played by Rohan de Saram). Yes, there are moments in the quicker sections of both symphonies where the textures get a bit clogged, but that's really the fault of the composer. Rubbra fought the orchestra. While he clearly was a symphonist of substance, getting his message across seemed to cause him no end of trouble. In these middle symphonies, however, the problems have largely been solved, and along with Nos. 5 and 7 they constitute the essential core of his output. Symphony No. 8, subtitled "Hommage to Teilhard de Chardin", gives free rein to the spiritual impulse that underlies so much of Rubbra's art, and although the Hickox cycle is complete, if you just want to sample this elusive (but very serious and ultimately worthwhile) composer, then this is the place to start. [11/16/2006]--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Recorded in 2014 at the beginning of a series marking his 85th birthday season, Christoph von Dohnányi leads the distinguished Philharmonia Orchestra in a live performance of Anton Bruckner’s monumental Ninth Symphony, which stands alongside the other epoch-defining Ninth symphonies of Beethoven and Mahler. Mr. von Dohnányi was the sixth music director of the Cleveland Orchestra for close to two decades; since 2002 he has been an honored, regular guest conductor with many of America’s leading symphony orchestras, including those of New York, Philadelphia, Los Angeles and Boston.

Here is the ideal introduction to the music of Edmund Rubbra. The Third and Fourth symphonies (fine works, both) sandwich two shorter, but still impressive, orchestral works.

Robert Layton provides a sterling example of a programme note. As he quite rightly says, ‘Edmund Rubbra belongs to the same generation of English composers as William Walton and Michael Tippett … but has never enjoyed the same measure of exposure’. Perhaps bringing these Lyrita discs once more to the public’s attention will do something to rectify the situation.

The Third Symphony is quite a lean work in terms of orchestration. It also breathes a dignity that is most compelling. It is fairly unremittingly serious in both demeanour and in intensely controlled thematic workings. The intensity reaches its height in the ‘Molto adagio ma liberamente’ slow movement, a statement of real depth, and one that inspires Del Mar and his orchestra to great things. If the title of the finale sounds forbidding – ‘Tema con 7 variazioni e una Fuga’ – it is not all so (there is even a passage that trips along nicely until interrupted by darker shades). The closing pages are marked by a rugged determination. Of course, 1939 was the year that marked the beginning of the Second World War, and it is not difficult to read echoes of these events into the more intense passages of this symphony..

The Fourth Symphony opens with a feeling of peace (now, of course, quite removed from external events – it was written in 1942). The work is in three movements, although the extended Introduzione to the last movement is banded separately by Lyrita because of its length (4’50). Robert Layton talks of ‘serenity, a remarkable stillness and an inner repose’ and this just about sums it up. The music of the first movement seems to pulsate welcomingly. The Intermezzo second movement is pure delight (its marking is ‘Allegretto grazioso sempre delicato’), especially when played with as much affection as on this Lyrita recording. The clouds of the ‘Introduzione’ to the final movement are magnificently evocative here (the well-balanced recording helps, preserving the depth of the shadowy strings), while the movement proper (‘Allegro maestoso’) has a noble dignity (it is more immediately identifiable as ‘English’ than some music by this composer). It does, however, carry the inimitable stamp of Rubbra’s compelling harmonic language.

The Overture, Resurgam, was inspired by the bombing of Plymouth in March 1941. The Overture was written in 1975 on a commission from the Plymouth Symphony Orchestra to commemorate its centenary. The title comes from a word (Resurgam) inscribed on the tower of the church of St Andrew (the only part left standing after the bombing). Resurgam begins very quietly and delicately. Although only eight minutes long, it is very serious in its intense scoring and in its density of ideas (Rubbra also uses a more acidic language than in the Third Symphony, heard first on the disc). Finally, A Tribute, Op. 56 (originally entitled ‘Introduzione e danza alla fuga’) begins in the most tender of fashions. Del Mar’s balancing of orchestra textures is revelatory in the introduction, while the ‘danza alla fuga’ is fascinating. It begins rather stealthily, but never releases its dance origins. The tribute is actually to Ralph Vaughan Williams (in honour of that composer’s seventieth birthday), although there appears to be no direct musical allusion.

A fascinating disc, then. Rubbra’s music reveals more and more on repeated hearings – facile is the one thing it is not.

-- Colin Clarke, MusicWeb International

After completing a quintet for wind instruments in 1922 that would become one of his most celebrated works, Carl Nielsen hit upon the ideas of writing a full orchestral concerto for each of the instruments included in that quintet. Nielsen certainly unlocked something in those five individual instruments that few composers had before him o rindeed would after. "Now I think on the basis of instruments themselves...in a way I creep into them" he wrote around the time of the quintet; "it can surely be said that instruments have a soul". The two concertos of the planned five that did materialize - for flute and clarinet - certainly echo those sentiments. The Philharmonia Orchestra is one fo the world's great orchestras. Widely acknowledged for its pioneering approach to the role of an orchestra in the 21st century, the Philharmonia leads the field for the quality of its playing and its innovative work with residencies, music education, audience development and the use of new technology to reach a global audience.

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REVIEW:

Paavo Järvi presides over a splendidly stylish and invigorating Nielsen anthology featuring the Philharmonia at the top of its game throughout. Both concerto performances deserve the widest plaudits. First-rate annotations and production values add to the attractions of a thoroughly recommendable release.

– Gramophone

Vital and individual readings.

There’s really not much to say about this one. Sir Andrew Davis in an all-Elgar programme ought to be a safe pair of hands, and so it turns out, and more besides.

The programme opens with the Enigma Variations, the phrasing of the theme as loving as one has ever heard it. The end of the first variation, C.A.E., depicting the composer’s wife, may be a little too drawn out for some tastes, but Elgar often expressed his affection for her in language at least as sweetly sentimental as this. The showy variations are splendid, but the more intimate ones are even more successful, and one comes away, perhaps more than in many performances, with the idea that some of Elgar’s friends were a melancholy lot. The cellist, Basil Nevinson, in a highly expressive reading, has rarely sounded as sad as he does here. The solo part is beautifully played, and this seems the moment to praise the outstanding orchestral playing throughout the disc, and the brilliantly characterful solo playing in particular. The Enigma Variations has been recorded many, many times, and each listener will have a favourite. I am very attached to Barbirolli in this work, though I sometimes wonder if this is not as much for sentimental reasons as for musical ones. The present performance is as fine as any I have heard, and I don’t think anyone who acquires it will be less than delighted. The recording is particularly detailed, bringing out a few points of orchestration I had never heard before, though you have to turn up the volume a fair bit to get enough punch in the louder passages, which means that the softer ones lose a little of their intimacy.

The performance of In the South is, if anything, even finer. The opening is surely the most exuberant music Elgar ever composed, and this comes over wonderfully well in this performance. Once again the orchestra is in inspired form, and this extends to the gentler, more atmospheric passages too. The work, always a winner in the concert hall, is nonetheless not one of the composer’s more coherent creations from a formal point of view, but Sir Andrew’s subtle control of tempo between the different sections disguises that very successfully. There are passages in the work where the composer runs the risk of overstepping the boundaries of taste, too, and it is a mark of the conductor’s skill that they are totally convincing. I’m thinking in particular of the passage based on hammered, repeated falling fifths (beginning at 7:12) where the listener is not sure whether Sir Andrew is moving the music on or not, only that the pulse never drags, successfully avoiding any suggestion of bombast. It’s a very fine performance and, like the Enigma, is greeted with enthusiastic applause.

This performance of the adorable Serenade will not appeal to those who want to indulge themselves, but is likely to please those who feel that Elgar knew what he wanted as regards tempo. Even so, the first and last movements here, amongst the briskest performances I know, still fall short of Elgar’s markings which do seem very fast indeed. The music is gracefully phrased, skipping rather than lilting, and is full of affection despite the conductor’s unwillingness to linger. The central slow movement, at a similarly flowing tempo, is very moving, wistful and passionate by turns, just as it should be.

The name “Philhamonia Orchestra” - albeit in trendy all lower case fashion - is given greater prominence on this disc than “Signum”, and the back cover of the booklet carries information about other Philharmonia performances on the same label. As a collaborative effort it can only be welcomed, especially at mid-price. There are very readable and informative notes by M. Ross. Newcomers to Elgar and seasoned listeners hoping for vital and individual readings of these particular works need not hesitate.

-- William Hedley, MusicWeb International