John Philip Sousa's music lives on through this superb recording. Performed by the esteemed United States Marine Band, this is an historic compilation that includes such favorites as "The Stars and Stripes Forever," "Semper Fidelis," and "The Washington Post." Equally welcome are such lesser-known works as "The Bride Elect," "Jack Tar," and "Man Behind the Gun," which offer a glimpse into the music not so familiar to casual Sousa listeners.
Under the leadership of Colonel Albert Schoepper, the performances are detailed and filled with nuances exemplified by the clarity of "The President's Own." The musicality and responsiveness of this ensemble is extremely noteworthy, as Schoepper's renditions provide a rich, well-balanced equilibrium between the wind, brass, and percussion. The unified dynamic control of the group sounds effortless, as does their interpretation and handling of Sousa's relentless, almost whimsical phrasings. These supercharged performances truly illustrate the unparalleled tradition of the Marine Band's playing of Sousa's music. Simply put, there is no better way to experience the music of the original "March King."

Originally released in 2007, Artur Pizarro and Vita Panomariovaite’s ‘Rimsky-Korsakov: Piano Duos’ has been re-issued as part of Linn’s ECHO series. These two talented pianists bring to bear their skill and virtuosity in three colorful arrangements encompassing Rimsky-Korsakov’s most popular music for orchestra, Scheherazade, Sadko and Capriccio Espagnol. Mr. Pizarro’s prize-winning performance at the Leeds Piano Competition marked the beginning of his international concert career. “…wonderful… very effective, evocative and exhilarating performances.” (Int’l Record Review)

Five string quartets by Carl Reinecke from all the phases of his career, from it's beginnings to his old age, are extant. He himself played the first violin in his father's quartet and in this way very early became acquainted with an extensive quartet repertoire. When he began composing his first quartet, he not only was familiar with the contributions to this genre by Mozart and Beethoven but also knew Schumann's brand new Quartets op. 41. Reinecke pays homage to Schumann's music in particular in the lyrical moments of his Quartet No. 2. He composed the Quartets Nos. 3 and 4 during his years as the conductor of the Gewandhaus Orchestra. No. 3 surprises us with it's expansive key plans, which also make us sit up and take notice in his subsequent quartets and undermine the cliché of a epigone who rigidly adhered to convention and academism. In his last contribution to the genre, the Quartet No. 5, he remains true to his style. This work perhaps sounds somewhat less like Schumann and somewhat more like Brahms, whose music Reinecke very much admired.

This is one of those programs that adds up to more than the sum of its parts. David Aaron Carpenter plays a sensational viola, and he’s very capably accompanied by Vladimir Ashkenazy and the Helsinki Philharmonic. This would be a very recommendable version of Harold in Italy on its own, even in a quite crowded field. The two central movements have plenty of character and color, and the concluding Orgy of Brigands lacks nothing in fire or excitement. However, there are two specific factors that make this release more than ordinarily interesting. First, Carpenter has restored Berlioz’s original viola part to the first statement of Harold’s main theme. This was presumably a concession to Paganini, who of course wanted a virtuoso piece. It’s no surprise that Paganini wasn’t impressed by this scant minute of barely audible arpeggiation, and that Berlioz replaced it with the more songful, canonic version that we all know and love, but it’s good to hear for a change. Second, and more importantly, Carpenter and Ashkenazy include the work the Paganini wrote for himself instead, and which presumably better represents what he really had in mind. The Sonata per la Gran Viola e Orchestra lasts about thirteen minutes. It consists of an introduction followed by a recitative, a cantabile, and a concluding theme and variations. It is tuneful, splashy, and effectively virtuosic. What stands out particularly, though, is not its obvious bel canto qualities, but the fact that Paganini calls the work a “sonata” in the first place. Many have wondered how he could have asked Berlioz to write a piece for viola at all, given the huge disparity between what Paganini expected and what Berlioz actually produced. We’ll never know exactly what discussions passed between the two men, save that it seems on his own evidence that Paganini was not looking for a typical concerto, but for “something else.” Well, that’s certainly what he got! Harold, of course, offers no opportunity for the soloist to display his virtuoso chops. He’s basically just along for the ride. So it’s good to be able to report that Carpenter isn’t fazed at all by Paganini’s typically ridiculous demands. The work constitutes a fabulous encore to Harold, while the disc-opening Overture to Béatrice et Bénédict makes this release a perfect program for continuous listening. The whole production is excellently engineered, especially when it comes to the tricky issue of balancing the soloist against the larger ensemble. It’s just great when a program is as smartly assembled as it is musically brilliant. -- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

A bubbly effusion of Rossini’s music, some new, some re-cycled, all enjoyable.

Rossini’s pre-eminence among his contemporaries was widely recognised after the success of his opera seria Tancredi and comic opera L’Italiana in Algeri in Venice in 1813. The composer was summoned to Naples by the impresario Barbaja and offered the musical directorship of the Royal Theatres, the San Carlo and Fondo. The proposal appealed to Rossini for several reasons. First, his annual fee was generous and guaranteed. Secondly, and equally important, unlike Rome and Venice, Naples had a professional orchestra. Rossini saw this as a considerable advantage as he aspired to push the boundaries of opera into more adventurous directions and did so in the nine opera seria he composed during his seven year stay in the position. Under the terms of the contract, Rossini was to provide two operas each year for Naples whilst being permitted to compose occasional works for other cities.

The composer tended to push the limits of his contract in respect of composing for other theatres. In the first two years he composed no fewer than five operas for other venues, with Il Barbiere di Siviglia being the most successful. This pace of composition and presentation of operas was necessary for a composer to enjoy a decent standard of living. There was also the fact that an opera success in a city far away, at least by the standards of the day, allowed an element of self-plagiarisation. Why waste good tunes - even when a work has been a failure - although this was sometimes taken to excess with straight lifts of music with the words simply altered.

After his first trip to Rome, and the massive success of Il Barbiere di Siviglia, Rossini returned to Naples to find the San Carlo theatre burned down. He composed a cantata for a ceremony to celebrate the wedding of the royal princess. Rather than proceeding with the two operas he was contracted to write for Naples, Rossini then proceeded to enjoy himself around town rather than composing. This led to Barbaja writing a formal letter of complaint to the theatre management about the delay in production, whilst the local papers were scathing. At last, much delayed, the first of the two contracted operas, La gazzetta, (The newspaper), was premiered at the small Teatro dei Fiorentini, Naples on 26 September 1816. It was Rossini’s eighteenth opera and was to be the only comic opera that he wrote for the city. Having given time to the production of Tancredi during the rehearsals of La gazzetta, it was no surprise that Rossini completed the work in a hurry and used music that was well known in Rome and elsewhere and some which would be used again in the near future in La Cenerentola. This is fact, although in the booklet essay with this issue the writer contends that the hand-written score of La gazzetta shows evidence of much care. Being popular with the local audience if not with the local press, it had twenty-one performances. The work was soon withdrawn and not seen again until revived in Rome one hundred and forty years or so later.

The action of La gazzetta takes place in a Parisian inn where several guests are staying. Don Pomponio, a local big mouth, extols the virtues of his daughter and has advertised the fact in the local papers as he seeks to marry her off. To cater for local tradition at the Teatro dei Fiorentini the role of Don Pomponio was written in Neapolitan dialect and is sung here by a native of the city Marco Cristarella Orestano. I cannot vouch for the veracity of his Neapolitan patois but he certainly enters into the spirit of his character. Whilst not being the most mellifluous of baritones his quick patter is delivered with good Rossinian taste and skill (CD 1 Trs. 4-6). Don Pomponio is unaware that his daughter, Lisetta, is in love with Filippo, owner of the inn. Judith Gauthier sings this high role with warm tone, pleasing vocal purity and characterisation (CD 1 Tr. 8). In the duets with her father (CD 1 Tr. 14) and her lover (CD 2 Tr. 4) she characterises the role particularly well. Her lover, Filippo, is sung by Giulio Mastrototaro, one of a clutch of more than adequate lower-voiced males who appear in the cast. Whilst not being outstanding they play a vital part in making the opera truly comic.

Of the other pair of lovers the warm-tones of Sicilian soprano of Rossella Bevacqua contrasts nicely with those of Doralice (CD 1 Tr. 12). Alberto, in search of a wife confuses her with the lady advertised in the ‘Gazzetta’ and which confusion is all part of the improbable fun. While not written to feature any of the high-voiced tenors that Barbaja had under contract in Naples, the role has high tessitura as well as a low dramatic requirement. In this performance it is sung by American Michael Spyres. The following year at Bad Wildbad Spyres sang the role of Otello, written for the great Andrea Nozzari famous for his florid singing and powerful lower notes. Spyres has the range, with a strong baritonal patina, however, whilst being ardent he lacks security and easy divisions in the coloratura in the more florid writing (CD 2 Tr. 6). As Madama La Rose, Maria Soulis’s mezzo is rich and flexible (CD 2 Tr.2).

The enjoyment of this typically Rossinian froth depends so much on the cast and the conductor being sympathetic to the idiom. This is the case here with Christopher Franklin on the rostrum drawing a vibrant performance from orchestra, chorus and soloists. In what is obviously an updated staging proceedings are interrupted by warm applause at the end of most set numbers. The tracks are generous allowing for those who want to get rid of the extensive recitative; personally I do not find this troublesome – at least not in this lively performance. There is some stage noise.

The booklet has a good track-related synopsis as well as an informative essay on the background to the opera, both in English and German. There are artist profiles in English. The background essay addresses the problem of the composition of the Act 1 quintet (CD 1 Tr. 10) and whether Rossini himself composed it. Listen and see if you recognise the music. Rossini enthusiasts will want to pursue the research and solution carried out by Gossett and Scipioni and which is discussed at length in the former’s Divas and Scholars (Chicago, 2006). Also interesting is how a producer butchered their efforts at Pesaro in 2001 (pp. 246-247). The production concerned can be seen as reprised at the Gran Teatre del Liceu, Barcelona, in 2005 on Oopus Arte OA0953D. Interestingly, Gossett contends that the first authentic production of the critical edition was in Britain at the 2001 Garsington Festival. It was at this venue that the British premiere of Rossini’s Armida - which I attended - was produced in 2010.

If you like Rossini’s music for his comic operas you will enjoy this performance and have the somewhat naughty pleasure of identifying the music he borrowed and from where - a hint do not always look to what he had composed before La gazzetta. A full libretto, in Italian can be accessed at the Naxos site.

-- Robert J Farr, MusicWeb International

This is an audio-only (i.e., with no video content) Blu-ray disc playable only on Blu-ray players.

It is also available on standard CD.

Taken from two concert performances in January, 2015, this is the first installment of an entire Ring Cycle from the Hong Kong Philharmonic under Jaap van Zweden to be recorded by Naxos. It makes you hungry for the rest.

The recording is clean and clear, with no artificial anything. Van Zweden’s approach is closest in memory to Herbert von Karajan’s–intimate and chamber-like, a family drama that happens to be played out in magical, mythological terms. Also like Karajan, van Zweden takes his time (at 2 hours and 33 minutes, this is on the longish side) and offers seamless segues between scenes. When a solo instrument is featured in Wagner’s dense orchestration, it is given a spotlight, and beautiful moments are to be bathed in–the motif after the Rainbow Bridge is created and the singing that follows rarely have sounded so tuneful and lovely. The Hong Kong Philharmonic is not Berlin or Vienna or the Met, but it has nothing to fear–the playing throughout is smooth and handsome. The opening Rhine passage is dark but clear, the piling up of the gold in Scene IV is beautifully built, and the opera’s final moments are indeed the grandest, as they should be–one of the few instances when van Zweden pulls out all the stops.

The storytelling is at the fore; impeccable diction is the order of the day. As revolting as Alberich always is, we can actually hear the flirtatious playfulness in the opera’s opening moments until he realizes that he doesn’t have a chance. And from then on, he’s simply vile–Peter Sidhom sings with an audible sneer and a ringing top to the voice that we rarely get in this role. He’s a baritone with remarkable “face”.

The back and forth between the fine, unexaggerated Fricka of Michelle De Young and the remarkable, surprising Wotan of Matthias Goerne is natural and familiar, and Goerne is the surprise of the performance. His experience and expertise as a Lieder singer comes in very handy in this opera: his interacting with Loge and his cajoling of Mime and Alberich all are textually and dynamically right-on. The bottom of the voice sounds remarkably rich, and while the top notes are brighter than we normally hear, he has authority. One wonders, however, about his Walküre Wotan….

David Cangelosi’s slimy Mime is vivid and actually sung–note for note, and Kim Begley’s Loge is performed with wonderful detachment: he knows he’s smarter than anyone else. Deborah Humble’s Erda could have been darker-hued, but her attention to the text turns her scene into the “event” it should be. Anna Samuil’s Freia is much like every other soprano’s who sings the part: good at complaining and being afraid. Kwangchul Youn’s Fasolt is on a grand scale; Stephen Milling’s Fafner not so much. Froh, small part though it is, deserves a better profile than Charles Reid gives it, and the Donner of Oleksandr Pushniak begins his “Heda…” on an unsteady note but recovers quickly. The Rhinemaidens–Eri Nakamura, Aurhelia Varak, and Hermine Haselböck–are a terrific, articulate, tuneful trio...


First choice among Rheingolds is still the Decca, but Testament’s release of a 1955 Bayreuth performance with Hans Hotter is certainly in the running, and as a non-gimmicky performance, may even be better. But this new set gives a wonderful overall view of this opera, and at a remarkable price.

-- Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com

ROSSINI Otello • Antonino Fogliani, cond; Michael Spyres ( Otello ); Jessica Pratt ( Desdemona ); Giorgio Trucco ( Iago ); Filippo Adami ( Rodrigo ); Geraldine Chauvet ( Emilia ); Ugo Guagliardo ( Elmiro ); Transylvania St Phil Ch, Cluj; Virtuoso Brunensis • NAXOS 8.660275-76 (2 CDs: 148:30) Live: Bad Wildbad 7/12–19/2008


Rossini’s Otello was premiered on December 4, 1816, and remained one of his most frequently performed operas until the general eclipse of most of his works in the late 19th century. Changes in aesthetic style (the replacement of bel canto first by Verdian romantic drama and then verismo ) had practical performance implications. Like Armida, Otello also has six tenor roles—three leads and three comprimario parts. The title role is written for a baritenore , a tenor with a lower tessitura but still requiring the top notes, while Rodrigo is cast for a high coloratura tenor, and Iago halfway in between. As voice types and vocal technique changed with compositional styles, finding singers with the requisite differentiated types of tenor voices probably became increasingly difficult, and without those contrasts the concentration of so many voices in one register sounds monotonous. Also, in accordance with the practices of the era that later fell into disfavor, the libretto departs significantly from Shakespeare. It replaces the famous handkerchief with the standard plot device of intercepted letters, and portrays Desdemona as torn between love for Otello (whom she has married in secret) and filial obedience to her father’s wish that she marry Rodrigo, who as Otello’s open rival is a far more prominent character here than Iago. It is only with the great Rossini revival in recent decades that truly vital performances of such works have again become possible.


The present performance emanates from a Rossini festival in southwestern Germany, near Karlsruhe. While not ideal, this newly issued live performance immediately leaps to the fore as one of two preferred recordings of this Rossini rarity; its only real competition is the Opera Rara set with Bruce Ford, Juan José Lopera, William Matteuzzi, and Elizabeth Futral, reviewed in Fanfare 23:5 by Joel Kasow. Its greatest strength is tenor Michael Spyres in the title role, the finest rendition yet committed to disc. His voice is simply spectacular; technically more secure even than Ford, he fearlessly encompasses a two-octave-plus range with the requisite virile heft, fluency in coloratura, and interpretive commitment. Less than ideal, though not bad, are the other two principal tenors. Giorgio Trucco as Iago has a light voice, somewhat lacking in sheen and a bit on the nasal side; he takes most of act I to warm up, but is effective in act II, and I find him preferable to Lopera. The Rodrigo of Filippo Adami is more problematic. Very light and bright in timbre, it is excessively nasal and has a wobble in the sustained top notes; it is difficult to hear him as a formidable rival to Otello for the hand of Desdemona, one that would have won her father’s favor. However, his coloratura and vocal production are superior to those of Matteuzzi, and again he seems a slightly preferable choice.


The strengths extend to the rest of the cast as well. While not flawless, Jessica Pratt as Desdemona is as good as or better than Futral or any of the alternatives. Initially her voice is slightly harsh and has a few slightly squally notes at the top, but once she gets warmed up for the act I finale it is pleasing in timbre and technically assured, and she brings an interpretive commitment notably lacking in some rivals. Ugo Guagliardo as her father, Elmiro, and Geraldine Chauvet as Emilia both sing their smaller but crucial supporting roles with security and authority, and the comprimario parts are all ably filled. The chorus has a name redolent of satirical spoofs of provincial opera companies and pseudonymous recordings issued on obscure labels from the 1950s, but in fact it sings quite well. The orchestra is on the smallish side—the Philharmonia on Opera Rara has more punch—but it plays with spirit and fine ensemble. Conductor Antonino Fogliani has the full measure of the music, with brisk, energetic allegros, lyrical, flowing andantes, and just the right hint of rubato at appropriate junctures. The recorded acoustic is warm, with a touch of reverberance. In keeping with current Naxos practice, the libretto is available online rather than printed and included with the set.


While this version is now the best sung, the Opera Rara set is the preferred edition for completists, as it includes alternative arias and both endings written for the opera (due to resistance from both censors and audiences, a happy dénouement also was penned to replace the original tragic one recorded here). Kasow’s review of its virtues and flaws is dead on target, and I need add nothing to that. In 25:1 Henry Fogel reviewed the Dynamic set of the “Malibran” edition of the opera, in which the role of Otello is transposed to a mezzo-soprano trouser part. It is also on three discs and offers both endings, though cuts are made in the original tragic one. I similarly agree with his overall negative assessment; if anything, he is too kind to certain singers. The pioneering Philips recording is available in a reissue edition with libretto from ArkivMusic; despite a starry vocal line-up (Frederica von Stade, José Carreras, Salvatore Fisichelli, and Samuel Ramey), I agree with the critical consensus that it is a staid affair, stylistically inadequate in its singing (significantly excepting Fisichelli’s Rodrigo) and hobbled by the soporific conducting of Jesús López-Cobos. Naxos has a winner here; this issue is strongly recommended.


FANFARE: James A. Altena


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Otello was the second opera seria which Rossini wrote for Naples. As such, it was written for the star team of Isabella Colbran, Andrea Nozzari, Giovanni David and Giuseppe Ciccimara. It was designed to take advantage of these voices, providing spectacular music in the context of an early 19 ^th century opera seria. The plot owes little to Shakespeare and the immediate source of Berio's libretto was a more recent adaptation of the story.


For its first two acts, Otello explores themes common to Italian opera of the time; forbidden love, the conflict of duty and desire, an innocent woman being forced to choose between her lover and her father. Elements of the familiar plot are thrown together and re-cast into something entirely different; if the characters had been given other names then we'd hardly associate the opera with Shakespeare's play. But in act 3, Rossini and his librettist return to something like Shakespeare to create a magical and daring conclusion.


The opera has done rather well on disc. Jésus López-Cobos directed a 1978 recording with Jose Carreras and Frederica von Stade. Then in 2000 came Opera Rara's recording with Bruce Ford and Elizabeth Futral conducted by David Parry. Now we have this live recording in Naxos's continuing series from the Rossini in Wildbad festival.


But before we consider the recording, we need to pause and look at what Rossini was doing with his vocal writing. His use of the team of tenors in Naples has caused problems during revivals in the 20 ^th century. Colbran was a soprano, though her voice was starting to fade and Rossini's roles for her veer towards mezzo-soprano territory. The three principal tenors had contrasting voices. Giovanni David, who sang Rodrigo, had a high (very high) lyric voice with a great facility for passage-work, a real coloratura voice. Nozzari sang Otello and he had a lower, darker voice; but not that dark, as Rossini's writing shows. Nozzari still possessed some facility with high passage-work, Then finally Ciccimara, who sang Jago and whose voice did have a distinctly baritonal quality.


It is this difference in voice types which is important as Rossini uses it for contrast. The problem is that in a modern day performance, we are lucky if we can find anyone at all to sing these tricky parts and we cannot always get too fussy about fine differentiations of voice-type.


This is a live recording of a staged performance. Those people actually present would have had the immense good fortune to be able to see as well as hear the performers. For those listening to the disc at home, there are problems: the three leading tenors are not that dissimilar in voice-type and in the absence of a libretto, the listener sometimes has to work hard to tell who is whom.


Michael Spyres, who sings Otello, is entirely admirable in the role. His tone has the requisite darkness which the role requires. On the Opera Rara disc Bruce Ford is rather light of voice and it is Jose Carreras on the 1978 recording who comes over as ideal. Spyres does not quite have the flexibility demanded by the role, but he does a pretty damn good job. Unfortunately the role of Otello is rather under-written and it is Rodrigo who is the more important tenor. Here, we find Filippo Adami singing the role with the sort of attack and swagger that you would have expected for the title role. His approach is a bit rough and ready at times, but was probably bravura enough to have worked live. Unfortunately his tone is not noticeably lighter than Spyres’. This means that in their act 2 duet, particularly in the anything you can do I can do better section, the two voices lack the thrilling contrast. On the 1978 disc, Carreras and his Rodrigo are admirably contrasted and Carreras uses his heavier voice to thrilling effect.


Jessica Pratt, who has been singing Rossini's Armida at Garsington this summer (2010), makes an entirely admirable Desdemona. No-one can quite touch Montserrat Caballé in her recording of the Willow Song from Act 3, but I think I could live with Pratt. Her voice turns a bit wayward under pressure at times, but then this is a live recording. More worrying is her quite substantial vibrato, something which I had to get used to.


Giorgio Trucco makes a solid Jago, balancing Spyres well in their act 2 duet, but rather lacking in any feeling for the sly, insinuating character that we know from the play. Ugo Guagliardo is the principal bass voice in the piece, playing Elmiro, Desdemona's father. He has a nice focused voice, one that could have been made more fully exploited.


Under Antonino Fogliani's direction, the piece goes off with quite some zing especially in the set-pieces. There were however moments when I felt that the recitatives plodded somewhat. The orchestra, the Virtuosi Brunensis, is a chamber orchestra from Brno and they deliver a crisp and lively account with some really lovely solo playing. The choir, as is often the case in recordings of staged works, suffer from moments of instability of ensemble.


Naxos include a detailed summary in the CD booklet but no libretto.


Both the Opera Rara and the 1978 recordings use the Fondazione Edition of the work. This recording uses a new edition by Florian Bauer, but I can't see edition being a decider.


Opera Rara include various extra pieces in an appendix, including an entrance aria for Desdemona and the happy ending written for Rome. Both of these re-use pre-existing material. All very fascinating but you have to pay for three discs. Opera Rara seen to have taken a light, small-scale view of the work, and David Parry's direction is adequate rather than thrilling.


It is the 1978 Philips recording which remains my ideal. López-Cobos paces the work admirably and his cast are both stylish Rossinians and admirably contrasted. If you possibly can, acquire this recording.


But if you are curious about Rossini's version of Otello then you will not go far wrong with this new Naxos version.


-- Robert Hugill, MusicWeb International