Jenó Jandó's Naxos survey of Beethoven's Bagatelles and dances for solo piano reaches Volume 3. Jandó's adroit and stylish readings have much to commend them, especially in their technical agility and clarity of execution. The greater part of this release is given over to the 12 Minuets--not normally the kind of music that lends itself usefully to cyclical hearing. But in these performances Jandó manages to get away from any repetitiveness and predictability, a potential danger in genre pieces, particularly when heard en masse. That he characterises each so effectively comes down to taut rhythms and clinical exactitude in matters of dynamics and articulation.



The disc opens with six more substantial items, including the two Op. 51 Rondos, the A major Rondo WoO 49, the so-called "Andante favori" (Andante in F WoO 57), and the famous "Rage over a lost penny", otherwise the Rondo a Capriccio in G Op. 129. Again, Jandó's performances are enjoyable and illuminating. Note for example how he highlights contrasts of mood and dynamics so effectively in the last of these works, sharpening the acerbity of its more fevered passages through a clarity of attack that owes more to keyboard articulation than to the pedal--commendable, given his brisk tempo. The two Op. 51 Rondos are also more tersely etched and rigorous than you'll often hear, so I'm inclined to rate Jandó's accounts more highly than Brendel's here. Another welcome addition to a useful budget series.
--Michael Jameson, ClassicsToday.com

In his 'new life' as a baritone, Plácido Domingo has triumphed in the role of Francesco Foscari in Los Angeles, London and Vienna. Now he takes to the role to La Scala, Milan, the theatre that is the symbol of Italian opera. I due Foscari, premiered in 1844, famously one of Verdi's darkest operas, is staged by Alvis Hermanis, who made such an impact at the Salzburg Festival with "Die Soldaten" and "Il trovatore". Domingo is joined by two of Italy's most exciting singers, the soprano Anna Pirozzi and the tenor Francesco Meli, and the acclaimed Italian conductor Michele Mariotti. The Financial Times was deeply moved by Domingo's performance, calling his interpretation of the role "sublime".

HERZOGENBERG Quintet in E?. Trio in D • Orsolino Qnt members; Oliver Triendl (pn) • cpo 777 081 (51:16)


Readers will already know from prior reviews, both mine and those of other contributors, that of Brahms’s many contemporaries and wannabes Heinrich von Herzogenberg (1843–1900) was the closest of all of them to the elder composer, both professionally and personally. After all, they shared a romantic interest in the same woman, Elisabet von Stockhausen, who came close to marrying Brahms, and who then married Herzogenberg when Brahms dumped her. The relationship between the two men could not have been a comfortable one, and Herzogenberg didn’t help matters any with his toadying behavior towards Brahms, as if merely breathing the master’s exhaled air would somehow fill his own sails with the winds of inspiration. But not even modest talent, let alone genius, is transferable through osmosis.


Herzogenberg did in fact possess a modicum of talent of his own, most evident when he wasn’t trying so hard to imitate Brahms. And that comes through in these two delightful chamber works. The E?-Major Quintet, written in 1883, is scored for the unusual combination of oboe, clarinet, horn, bassoon, and piano. Few such works exist for this combination of instruments, Mozart’s K 452, Beethoven’s op. 16, and Friedrich Witt’s op. 5 being the best-known—possibly the only known—examples. All share the same key of E? as the most logical compromise and accommodation to the two transposing instruments, the clarinet and the horn. Though Herzogenberg’s quintet would not be as easily mistaken for Brahms as some of his other works, it does exude something of the relaxed, engaging character of Brahms’s much earlier A-Major Serenade. And its last movement, as well as the third movement of the oboe trio, with its running triplets, does call to mind Brahms’s op. 40 Trio for violin, horn, and piano.


The Trio in D for oboe, horn, and piano was written in 1889 during Herzogenberg’s stay in Nice, where he had gone, with Elisabet, to recover from a serious illness. Described by the composer himself as “jolly and so new,” the piece is obviously one of good spirits that reflects the warm Mediterranean clime and Herzogenberg’s improved state of health. In terms of its instrumentation, the trio has even fewer precedents than the quintet, an 1886 work by Carl Reinecke being the only known example, and one that apparently Herzogenberg was unaware of when he wrote his own trio.


The two works on this disc make two things about Herzogenberg abundantly clear. First, he had a life independent of Brahms, and a fairly rich one at that. A Bach scholar of no mean accomplishment, he took up residence in Leipzig where, with Philipp Spitta, he established the Leipzig Bach-Verein, which dedicated itself to the revival of Bach’s cantatas. During his 10-year directorship of the institute, he taught composition to a number of students, one of whom was Ethel Smyth. Relocating to Berlin, he then took up the post of professor of composition at the Hochschule für Musik, where he advised Vaughan Williams to study with Max Bruch. Herzogenberg’s catalog of compositions is far larger than current listings of recordings would indicate. It includes major choral works, among which is a requiem, a mass, a number of large-scale oratorios, eight symphonies, a violin concerto, and a vast amount of chamber music.


The second thing we learn is that as a composer, Herzogenberg was not just a conservative—in itself not an indictment, as many composers of this time and milieu, which included Fuchs, Reinecke, and Bruch, among others—were also “old-school” traditionalists—but that he lacked their gift for lyrical melody and the grand Romantic gesture. As one listens to the quintet and trio on this disc, what emerges is a sunny, somewhat carefree disposition, one in which the rustic charm and blithe surfaces are never rippled by any momentous or memorable events. Despite their four-movement classically structured forms and their chamber-music category titles, in musical character these are serenades or divertimento-type works—likeable enough but unremarkable.


Remarkably good, however, are the performances by the Orsolino Quintet, a young German-Austrian ensemble founded in 1996. This is one of those groups from which individual members are drawn on an as-needed basis, depending on the scoring of the work at hand. The services of flutist Walter Auer, for example—one of the Orsolino’s permanent five—are not required in this instance. All players are also members of major orchestras: Jochen Tschabrun is principal clarinet in Frankfurt-am-Main’s RSO; Anne Angerer is principal oboe in Stuttgart’s Southwest RSO; Jan Wessely is deputy principal horn in the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra; and Marion Reinhard is double-bassoonist in the Berlin Philharmonic. Thus, it comes as no surprise that articulation, intonation, phrasing, and ensemble balance are at the highest professional levels. Joined by pianist Oliver Triendl, and given every advantage by cpo’s excellent recording, these performers make as good a case as any can for a composer who, despite the heroic efforts on his behalf, is not likely to rescind the “DNR” stamped on his medical chart.

FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Offenbach’s La Périchole (1868) will never cease to delight music lovers of all persuasions. Marc Minkowski – long one of the composer’s prophets – was keen to pay tribute to him with this world premiere recording on period instruments, in the company of the young school of French singers, including the bewitching Aude Extrémo, the dashing Stanislas de Barbeyrac and the hilarious Alexandre Duhamel. Combining fashionable rhythms with the most unexpected touches of folklore, the score is a veritable flood of hit numbers. How can one not be swept away by the insolence of the Seguidilla, the frenzy of the Bolero or the furious rhythm of the Prison Trio? Never before, perhaps, had Offenbach gone so far in caricaturing political leaders – nor used drunkenness to resolve the imbroglio of inextricable sentimental relationships. And indeed, the ‘Tipsy Arietta’ is one of the composer's best-known numbers. Cheers!

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REVIEW:

Bru Zane continues its French Opera series with Offenbach’s La Périchole, an opéra bouffe in three acts.

Offenbach enjoyed great success in 1867; he had productions showing at four Parisian theatres the year before completing La Périchole. Yet in May 1868 the tide was turning. Le château à Toto was unsuccessful, and a revival of Le pont des soupirs failed to inspire. Later in the year came the premières of opéra bouffes L'île de Tulipatan and La Périchole, neither of which kept a hold on the repertory. In 1874, for the revival of La Périchole, Offenbach revised the score considerably: three acts instead the original two acts. It was in this revised form that La Périchole has found favour with audiences.

In La Périchole there are the usual antics so typical of an opéra bouffe, including disguise, mix-ups, mistaken identity and comic twists. La Périchole and her lover Piquillo are a pair of Peruvian street singers who cannot afford a marriage license. Don Andrès de Ribeira, a lecherous Viceroy of Peru, wants La Périchole as his mistress, and makes her his lady-in-waiting. Piquillo, also employed in the Viceroy’s household, marries the veiled La Périchole without knowing it is she. Piquillo gets thrown into prison but the end results in an unexpected pardon from the Viceroy; the lovers are reunited.

Music director Marc Minkowski has conducted both versions of La Périchole. For the Opéra National de Bordeaux production recorded here, he has assembled a mixed version based on the original 1868 score and parts of the 1874 revision. This release was recorded at live performances of stage director Romain Gilbert’s production. Minkowski conducted Les Musiciens du Louvre who are thirty-six strong and use period instruments. Although it surely applies to all audio recordings of live performances to a lesser or greater degree, having seen a brief clip of the show I think the dramatic impact of La Périchole is especially diminished by not seeing the actual performance. Nevertheless, there is still much pleasure to be gained from this recording. The three principal characters – La Périchole, Piquillo and Don Andrès – are very well cast, with French-language singers.

Tenor Stanislas de Barbeyrac throws himself wholeheartedly into the role of Piquillo. A highlight is the brief Rondo de bravoure - Écoute, ô roi, je te présente, where Piquillo presents La Périchole to Don Andrès. This splendid example of Barbeyrac’s theatricalit, demonstrates his vocal clarity and projection, his high notes achieved comfortably. As femme fatale La Périchole, the rich-toned mezzo-soprano of Aude Extrémo projects well, with a first-class level of expression – although her voice does not always have the smoothest delivery. La Périchole’s renowned ‘Tipsy’ arietta - Ah! quel dîner je viens de faire!’ is a success. I wish I could have seen it. Best of all is her ‘Letter’ arioso to Piquillo - Ô mon cher amant, je te jur. The mezzo tenderly reflects how it would be better to separate owing to their poverty and list of misfortunes. It is hard to forget the distinction of Régine Crespin’s rendition of the ‘Letter’ arioso on her 1971 release ‘Prima Donna in Paris’ on Decca.

Alexandre Duhamel as Viceroy Don Andrès gives a creditable performance although it is more of an acting role. Note the ‘Incognito’ song with chorus Sans en rien souffler à personne where Viceroy goes out on the town in disguise. Duhamel is in secure voice, with impressive diction and strong expression. Of the hit numbers, one notes La Périchole and Piquillo’s Le conquérant dit à la jeune Indienne, a foot-tapping ballad with its extremely catchy tune. For the same reasons, I also relish the couple’s rendition of the celebrated Séguedille - Vous a-t-on dit souvent. Minkowski favours swift speeds. He draws a strong and expressive performance from Les Musiciens du Louvre. On occasions, within all the spirited playing there is some slight untidness but nothing too distracting. The Chœur de L’Opéra National de Bordeaux is hard to fault. They give a strong performance throughout under chorus master Alphonse Cemin.

The sound has clarity, and is well balanced. Not surprisingly, there is some miscellaneous stage noise, and applause after some arias and at the end of each act, but it is not a problem. It serves to add to the live atmosphere.

As we have come to expect from this Bru Zane French Opera series, there is a 168-page hardback book with a full French libretto and an English translation. Four informative and well written essays are also included, as is a synopsis and full cast and track listing. My only grumble is wanting the track listing to contain the page number of its place in the libretto.

There are several studio recordings of La Périchole in the catalogue. My first choice remains the 1977 Strasbourg recording on Erato, featuring Régine Crespin, Alain Vanzo and Jules Bastin, conducted by Alain Lombard. Originally, I had the Erato release on vinyl. It is worth knowing that the performance has no spoken dialogue. I find this Minkowski recording of La Périchole tremendously entertaining from start to finish, and I wish I had been in the Bordeaux audience. A fitting tribute in Offenbach’s 200th anniversary year.

– MusicWeb International (Michael Cookson)

HERZOGENBERG String Quartet, op. 18. String Quintet, op. 77 1 • Minguet Qrt; 1 Peter Langgartner (va) • CPO 777 083-2 (58:40)


If Brahms’s name had been attached to Heinrich von Herzogenberg’s String Quintet, that work might be in the basic repertoire by now. Perhaps that is an exaggeration, but not by very much. In fact, Herzogenberg’s String Quintet (1892) is the next best thing to a newly discovered work by Brahms. If one were to present it as such, no doubt many listeners wouldn’t question the attribution. For music to be more Brahmsian, it would have to be by Brahms himself.


None of this is terribly surprising, as Herzogenberg and his wife, Elisabeth, were more than simply passing acquaintances with Brahms. Elisabeth had been Brahms’s piano pupil, and some have argued that the elder composer had a crush on his young student, and when Elisabeth married Heinrich in 1866, Brahms became jealous, in spite of himself. The couple kept up correspondence with Brahms, and Heinrich, an accomplished composer himself, shared his work with Brahms, whose approval was at best grudging. Herzogenberg’s music isn’t exclusively an imitation of Brahms’s, but many of his works—the op. 77 String Quintet in particular—are in a decidedly Brahmsian style. I was tempted to add “for better or worse” to the last sentence, but the stylistic similarities are very much for the better. It is amusing to hear the last movement trace a similar path as the analogous movement in Brahms’s First Symphony. The “big tune,” which appears after considerable preparation, could even be a variant of Brahms’s melody (which in turn, as “any ass can see,” was a variant of Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy”). Alas, this work was written in the wake of Elisabeth’s death early in 1892, but of mourning there is little trace. I don’t know what Elizabeth Kübler-Ross would have thought about this quintet, but Herzogenberg hardly wallows in grief here, apparently preferring to work through his feelings in a more positive fashion.


If anything, the D-Minor String Quartet, which dates from 1876, is more tragic. Up until this point in his life, Herzogenberg had been a devotee of Wagner, but it was around this time that he turned from Wagner to Brahms. This quartet doesn’t sound like Wagner, and it sounds much less like Brahms than the Piano Quintet. With Herzogenberg lacking a strong musical personality, it also fails to sound like Herzogenberg (whatever that might be), but in every other way it is an assured and respectable work. Hearing it is not a waste of one’s time, although I expect that most listeners will focus their attention on the later work. (As if to foil those same listeners, cpo has placed op. 77 before op. 18. I suspect I am not the only listener too lazy or too passive to switch the CD halfway through.)


These recordings date from 2008 (op. 77) and 2005 (op. 18), and are the Minguet Quartet’s second Herzogenberg disc for this label. (Cpo 777 082-2 contains the op. 17 Piano Quintet and the op. 63 String Quartet.) This is a German ensemble, formed in 1988, and named after a Spanish philosopher who believed that the fine arts should be made accessible to the general populace. The Minguet Quartet does just that, performing these works with the sort of fervor that makes even casual listeners pay attention. They don’t overdo it, however, and those who deplore emotionally sloppy performances of Brahms (as well they should) will not be turned off by the playing here, which is eloquent, masculine, and always in control. In the String Quintet, violist Peter Langgartner’s addition is seamless—so much so that one can’t tell where he begins and where the Minguets leave off. The booklet notes are brief, but only by cpo’s standards, and the engineering is all one could wish for. Strongly recommended to those who love Brahms, mostly for the yummy String Quintet.


FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle

Less well remembered by the general, non-cognoscenti opera admirer, Ettore Bastianini (1922-67) was nonetheless among the finest, busiest and most beloved Italian bass-baritones of the 1950s. This now legendary 1959 studio performance of Gaetano Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor finds him in the company of the young, rising star soprano of the opera world at that time, Renata Scotto, and tenor Giuseppe di Stefano. The under-appreciated Nino Sanzogno (1911-83) leads the La Scala, Milan Orchestra and Chorus.

This programme is probably catchy enough to get the young listener off to an enthusiastic start.

This is one of a batch of CDs in the Naxos 'My First Album' series which founder Klaus Heymann declares "one of our most important projects with music for children". Each comrpises around 15 to 25 pieces of music selected as a gentle but inspiring introduction to the subject matter: in this case the violin repertory. Other volumes showcase Tchaikovsky, the lullaby, ballet, ‘classical music’ and so on. Virtually all the music consists of single movements drawn from larger works, with the average timing here just under the five-minute mark.
 
The CD booklets are attractively designed with youngsters in mind, with a fairy-tale-style pencil/pastel drawing on the cover and many smaller colourful ones on every page - violins feature prominently in this volume. Inside, after a brief introduction to the subject - "The violin is one of the most popular instruments the world over" and so on - each item on the disc is allotted a 'Keyword', ranging from the obvious to the odd, such as 'Thrilling', 'Dance', 'Goblins', 'Film' and 'Sting', and there follows a descriptive/explanatory paragraph, in straightforward language that should be intelligible to children as young as five or six, and unpatronising up to about ten or eleven. The texts enlarge on some of the things going on in the music, either as heard in the instruments or, if the work is programmatic, in the story itself, generally with a mention of the mood of the piece and usually alerting the child to some detail or other.
 
The blurb states that the booklet "is full of information on every piece of music", but that is a bit of an exaggeration. For a start, only the composer's surname is given in the main text, whereas first names - likely to be of interest to younger children - and dates of birth and death are relegated to the small print at the back of the booklet. Unfortunately, there is not even the most cursory of biographical note on any of the composers - this seems an odd omission when the texts talk freely about them as if they were old friends to the reader. Such detail is certainly more relevant than the titles in their original languages, such as 'Danza Española' or 'Souvenir d'un Lieu Cher' - only some of which have in any case been supplied.
 
For an important project, there is some surprising inconsistency or rashness in the language used in the notes. It is no good a child knowing that "Carmen is the world's most famous opera" or that a cor anglais "sounds like a dark oboe" if (s)he has no idea what an opera is or an oboe sounds like. "Can you hear the birds fluttering on the violin?" is likely to be understood literally by younger children. To describe the cimbalom as an instrument that "sounds a bit like a very old piano" is facile. The remark that "Schindler's List [...] is about the story of the Jews in World War II" is crass, inaccurate and semi-literate. As for that film's title theme - "incredibly sad music"? Nostalgic, touching, introspective - but surely not "incredibly sad", except perhaps for those who have seen the film.
 
The back of the booklet is the place to go for details of performers, rightly judged this time to be of little importance to nascent listeners, but a necessary reference for parents wishing to delve further into the music, whether on their child's behalf or perhaps - why not - for themselves. Yet the recordings drawn on for these compilations are not really the best ones to look out for, nor even the cheapest anymore. For the first batch of discs at least Naxos have drawn widely on their back catalogue bargain basement, meaning that performances tend to be rarely more than fair-to-middling, whilst the recordings themselves, some over twenty years old, can show their age in their thin or tinny quality, always most noticeable in the orchestral tracks.
 
That said, this CD is the best of the bunch so far - most of the performances are perfectly serviceable and the chamber recordings, of which there are many on this album, sound decidedly less lossy. Moreover, it is also true that the intended audiences are neither hardcore audiophiles nor zealous collectors but ordinary children, who will probably not notice anyway! Still, there seems no obvious reason why Naxos did not use newer, better recordings across the board.

Asking a six-year-old to sit through seventy-five minutes of any music is a tall order. Even a few minutes of less immediate material might induce premature boredom, in which case other or at least shorter Mozart and Beethoven might have been included instead, and a different Tchaikovsky melody. In smaller servings, this programme is probably catchy enough to get the young listener off to an enthusiastic start, yet it is difficult to discount the idea that those selecting the music and writing the notes could have thought a bit harder.
 
-- Byzantion, MusicWeb International