Search results: Search results
398 results
Products
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Martucci: Sonata, Op. 34, Works, Op. 31, & Mazurka, Op. 35
$19.99CDPiano Classics
Jun 05, 2026PCL10318 -
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
Rontgen: Wind Serenades / Linos Ensemble
RÖNTGEN Serenade (Wind Quintet). Serenade (Wind Septet). Trio for Flute, Oboe, and Bassoon • Linos Ens • CPO 777 127-2 (60:15)
As Jerry Dubins reviewed this disc at some length in Fanfare 36:1, I will make this relatively brief, wanting only to register some degree of dissent from his overall negative judgments. Basically, Dubins liked the rather Brahmsian early Serenade, op. 14, but dismissed the later wind quintet Serenade as a “frivolous, frothy fluff piece” and called the Trio “a work of modest means and even flimsier substance.” He concluded, “If you’re new to Röntgen ... I’d strongly suggest that you start with almost anything else by him than the disc at hand.” I must beg to differ with him regarding the latter two works. While these are indeed occasional pieces rather than major masterworks, they are all ingratiating and provide charming and rewarding listening. While the major influence on the late serenade is indeed, as Dubins notes, Richard Strauss—the clarinet at the opening is reminiscent of that in Till Eulenspiegel , and the end of the third movement sounds much like the music for the little Moorish servant boy from the final bars of Der Rosenkavalier —it also follows in the footsteps of Nielsen’s Quintet. Adjectives that spring to mind are saucy, insouciant, cheeky, and mischievous. It is constructed in a cyclic pattern with a return in the last movement to material from the first movement. The Trio is even closer to Nielsen’s ambit in the more craggy melodic contours and unexpected harmonic twists of its three brief movements. The connection is not surprising; not only was Röntgen an enthusiast for Scandinavian culture, who wrote a biography of his friend Edvard Grieg, but he also played in a string quartet with Carl Nielsen in 1892. It would be interesting to know of any further connections between them. I do admit to being less fond of this piece than of the two serenades, as the slow movement is uningratiating.
I do agree with Dubins regarding the high caliber of the playing of the Linos Ensemble, although in the Trio I do find the oboe to be a bit harsh and off in intonation (perhaps the instrument simply needed to be swabbed out). The recorded sound and booklet notes meet CPO’s usual excellent standards. For those who are particularly fond of the genre of wind serenades, this disc is a welcome addition to its not very sizeable repertoire.
FANFARE: James A. Altena
Music Of A Bygone Era / Frank Glazer
The disc opens with a curvaceous and ravishingly sung out account of Mendelssohn's Spring Song, followed by Alfred Grünfeld's pretty if overlong Romanze and Grieg's Papillon, which is fuller in body and less cameo-like than we often hear. Glazer pays heed to the inner voices in Godowsky's Alt-Wien, although it doesn't quite attain the tonal magic of Shura Cherkassky's recently reissued 1974 recording. Although Sinding's Rustle of Spring, Moszkowski's E major Waltz, and Rubinstein's Melody in F would benefit from a lighter touch and more rippling accompanimental figures, Glazer's legato scales and subtle tonal shadings--using remarkably little pedal--in Liadov's Musical Snuff-Box are worthy of the old Hofmann and Rosenthal recordings.
Rubinstein's Kamennoi-Ostrow moves too slowly to sustain the music's bland harmonic appeal, while Paderewski's Menuet in G and Macdowell's Witches Dance are a shade heavy-handed and lacking in élan. Glazer accommodates the prevalent thick textures of Dohnanyi's "Nalia" transcription by taking overly slow tempos, yet the pianist's sustaining power prevents them from sounding labored. On the other hand, Glazer's fingers sound 60 years younger in Stephen Heller's fluffy transcription of Schubert's "The Trout", while Liszt's Third Liebestraume is direct, elegant, and free of treacle. All told, a lovely disc.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
Takács: Orchestral Works / Christ, Georgische Kammerorchester Ingolstadt
His works have accompanied generations of beginner instrumental students on their first foray into contemporary music. But with works like his Concerto for Piano, Strings, and Percussion Jenö Takács clearly placed himself in a line with the great paragons Béla Bartók and Zoltán Kodály. Early he started out with the impressionist coloring and the influences of Hungarian folk music. Studying with Joseph Marx added a strict contrapuntal note to it. Getting to know Bártok further increased the Hungarian element (topicality, rhythm, bitonality). Jenö Takács was a humanist, a ‘musical cosmopolitan’, an eyewitness of almost the entire 20th century.
REVIEW:
The Serenade after Ancient Contradances from Graz consists of six cheerful movements for string orchestra, similar in style to Grieg’s Holberg Suite. It is relatively brief (7 minutes), and the tossed-off ending leaves me wanting more of its enjoyable swagger.
Takacs wrote the Concerto for piano, strings, and percussion in 1947 and revised it a few times. The piano part is steely as in Bartok’s concertos, but simpler textures and relatively more conventional harmonies make Takacs more approachable. Although there are many scintillating passages, a lot of the material seems to be waiting for another theme to take the lead—except it never does. The sections never quite build into something sweeping and fulfilling.
The Passacaglia is one of his most serious pieces, though it is not forbidding, even when it pushes up against the boundaries of tonality. The dramatic arc is quite satisfying.
The Three Pieces for string orchestra are cleverly thought-out and should be better known.
The playing in everything is wonderful; Karmon has a lush tone, and Triendl’s piano is fire and steel. The sonics are reverberant, and the string orchestra glows.
-- American Record Guide (Stephen Estep)
MacDowell: Orchestral Works, Vol. 1 / Xiayin Wang, Wilson, BBC Philharmonic
Martucci: Sonata, Op. 34, Works, Op. 31, & Mazurka, Op. 35
Mozart: Momentum - 1785 / Andsnes, Mahler Chamber Orchestra
“When you realize how quickly Mozart developed during the early years of the 1780’s it makes you ask: why did this happen? What was going on? It’s about the momentum of his creativity at this time” says Leif Ove Andsnes
In 1781, aged 25, Mozart made the bold move of going freelance, “Vienna is piano land!” he exclaimed in a letter to his father, Leopold, in an attempt to argue his case for resigning from the employment of the Archbishop of Salzburg. With both public and private concerts taking place on a daily basis, Vienna was the place to be for an ambitious young composer and performer, and Mozart was quick to realize the opportunities on offer. Within a couple of years he had established himself as one of the most famous musicians in Vienna but by 1785 he had competition on his doorstep. As more and more talented composers and musicians arrived in the city, freelancers like Mozart had to become ever more inventive to distinguish themselves and win over the public’s affection. It was in these two years - 1785 and 1786 - that Mozart’s musical imagination flourished like never before.
Mozart wrote a series of masterpieces and revolutionized the nature of the piano concerto. The five piano concertos, no.20-24, are game-changers in the history of the form. Mozart began to re-examine the roles of the soloist and orchestra and created a dialogue between the two entities in a way that had not been heard before. “It changes completely with Mozart’s Piano Concerto No 20 [in D minor K466],” says Andsnes. “He separates the soloist more from the orchestra. The first entrance of the soloist in this piece is very different music from what you have heard the orchestra present. This is the moment, which points to the future and the development of the piano concerto and of the beginning of the Romantic piano concerto, which is so beloved. Everything from Tchaikovsky, Grieg and Rachmaninov, where the soloist has a sort of “heroic” role. It starts here with Mozart.”
In the four works that followed, Mozart tested concerto form to its limits and made extreme emotional demands on his Viennese subscribers. “There was new creative energy in the air,” says Andsnes; “Mozart seems to have gone deeper and deeper into the idiom and its possibilities and tried new techniques. I don’t know any music that offer such emotional diversity.”
Mozart Momentum 1785 is the first of two releases exploring those especially remarkable years. It includes piano concertos Nos 20-22, the Piano Quartet in G minor, Masonic Funeral Music and Fantasia in C minor for solo piano.
“The idea of this project was to explore the diversity of what was going on in Mozart’s creative life at the time – to show that a separation between solo playing, chamber music playing and concerto playing isn’t really relevant,” says Andsnes. “You find that some piano parts in the chamber music are more virtuosic than those in the concertos. It all goes hand in hand.”
Leif Ove Andsnes will embark on this new chapter with a trusted partner: The Mahler Chamber Orchestra. Their previous concerto project – the five piano concertos by Beethoven – produced recordings that won BBC Music Magazine’s Disc of the Year, were nominated for Gramophone Awards and hailed as new benchmarks. “There’s so much more to this partnership than just exceptional playing; there’s a palpable sense of discovery, of living the music”, says Gramophone Magazine. The Guardian raved “You’d be hard-put to find a pianist and orchestra better matched.”
Bjorling Rediscovered - Carnegie Hall Recital September 1955
Björling fans most likely will have the majority of these songs and arias in their collections, many in multiple versions. But if they want the complete 1955 recital--and they should, as should all lovers of great singing--they'll need this welcome disc. The nine new items include arias from Cavalleria rusticana (Addio alla madre), Andrea Chenier (Come un bel di), La Bohème (Che gelida manina), and songs by Grieg, Sibelius, and Sjöberg. Whether this or that selection is the "best" available by Björling is a moot point; those made in the 1930s featured a lighter, ravishing voice, the later ones an instrument with more depth and body. Later often equals more subtle interpretations, as this 1955 Beethoven song "Adelaide" demonstrates, with its sophisticated use of rubato and changes in tonal color that reflect textual nuances, not to mention the added fervor of a singer projecting into Carnegie's vast space.
The Schubert group is highlighted by a tender "Ständchen" and an intense, pull-out-all-the-stops "Die böse Farbe". Björling's gorgeous middle voice and silvery top pay dividends in Mozart's "Il mio tesoro", where he negotiates the coloratura well and makes Don Ottavio less of a wimp than usual. As in any Björling recital, the usual suspects are here, but since he was really "on" that night, they're as thrilling as ever--a "Flower Song" from Carmen both tender and ardent, the ravishing "La Rêve" from Manon, and "Amor di vieta", among others. The latter aria should be heard by benighted individuals who subscribe to the strange notion that Björling was a "cool" singer in the Italian repertoire. The Scandanavian set is another of the many highlights, beautiful songs sung with elegance. And has Stephen Foster's "Jeanie With the Light Brown Hair" ever sounded more lovely? Björling's lightly accented English, wide vocal range, and respect for his material, coloring words as if they were a Schubert song, make it irresistible.
Jon Samuels' transfers easily eclipse all other releases of this material, giving us not only the incomparable sound of Björling's voice, but also a realistic rendering of the important way in which Frederick Schauwecker's piano supports and interacts with that voice, along with a sense of hall ambience rare for monophonic recordings. This disc offers 80 minutes of bliss. Get it.
--Dan Davis, ClassicsToday.com
Nepomuceno: Orchestral Works / Mechetti, Minas Gerais Philharmonic
Alberto Nepomuceno was a herald of Brazilian musical nationalism. He was one of the first composers in his country to employ elements of folklore in his compositions, he encouraged younger composers such as Villa-Lobos, and his music was conducted by Richard Strauss. The Prelude to O Garatuja, an incomplete opera, is one of his best-known works and an example of a truly Brazilian lyric comedy. Serie Brasileira is a vivacious suite that employs maxixe rhythms and ends with the feverish batuque dance, while the Symphony in G minor is one of the earliest such examples by a Brazilian, a heroic and lyric structure revealing the influence of Brahms.
REVIEW:
Alberto Nepomuceno (1864-1920) was a major force in the development of Brazilian music at the turn of the twentieth century. He worked as a composer, conductor, and educator, tirelessly promoting Brazilian music and the use of Portuguese as an “art language.” The three orchestral works presented here are typical of his work. The Prelude to O Garatuja (1904), an incomplete lyric comedy, uses obvious national themes and offers nine minutes of high-spirited fun as well as a lightness and elegance found in all of the pieces on this disc.
The Brazilian Suite of 1891 had me immediately thinking “Grieg,” and it came as no surprise to learn that Nepomuceno befriended the Norwegian composer during his studies in Europe and saw him as a model. All the same, the work is beautifully scored and in several places quite personal in expression–its four movements representing “Dawn at the Mountains,” a gentle Brazilian dance intermezzo, “Napping in a Hammock,” and a gutsy concluding “Batuque” with a notable part for some native percussion (a reco-reco, or guiro).
Nepomuceno’s Symphony in G minor dates from 1893, the same year as Dvorák’s “New World.” It’s a much more conservative piece than that, although the opening movement has a nice rhythmic swing to it, and both the slow movement and scherzo feature characterful melodic ideas. The scherzo, in particular, mixes a sort of Mendelssohnian delicacy with sudden military interjections from the trumpets and timpani that are very effective. The finale, though, as with so many late romantic symphonies, disappoints. It’s based on the rhythm of the first allegro in Schumann’s “Spring” Symphony, repeated endlessly. Despite a charming second subject, the movement never really gets off the ground, and the ending, with piccolo, cymbals and triangle making a predictable entrance, is unmotivated and ineffective. A good effort, in other words, but a true symphonist Nepomuceno evidently was not, and that’s no crime.
The Minas Gerais Philharmonic, a relatively new group founded only in 2008, plays all of this music very well under Fabio Mechetti. The ensemble has good discipline, and reveals some fine players occupying the principal woodwind and brass chairs. They are also quite well recorded in what sounds like a flattering acoustic space, the Sala Minas Gerais in Belo Horizonte. I look forward to further releases from these forces. Minas Gerais is a region perhaps best known as a source of gems and minerals for collectors, and I’m happy to report that the region’s jewels include more than just the rocky kind. Nepomuceno’s output may have been uneven, but his music is worth getting to know, and a disc like this offers an ideal introduction.
– ClassicsToday.com (David Hurwitz)
Rontgen: Orchestral, Choral & Chamber Music / Various
Prokofiev: Symphony No 5 / Litton, Bergen
Then there’s the stiff competition; Neeme Järvi’s much-celebrated cycle for Chandos springs to mind, as does Dmitri Kitaienko’s for Phoenix Edition. Sakari Oramo’s Ondine Fifth and Sixth mustn’t be overlooked either. All offer very different views of the Fifth, Prokofiev’s great wartime symphony, and that in itself suggests the work responds well to opposing interpretations. Oramo’s is a case in point, for he taps into a vein of lyricism that others don’t always find. He also has a very transparent recording that exposes much of the score’s inner workings.
The Järvi Fifth dates from the conductor’s halcyon days with the RSNO – then the Scottish National Orchestra – which yielded particularly memorable recordings of Richard Strauss, Shostakovich and Prokofiev. Revisiting his Prokofiev Fifth after a long break I discovered the performance has all the spunk and spike that I remember, although the treble is fiercer and the big moments are rougher than I recall. I have no such qualms about his Scythian Suite – coupled with a white-hot Alexander Nevsky – which is my benchmark for the piece.
Litton’s Andante is powerful enough, but alongside Järvi and Kitaienko it takes a little while to limber up. Admittedly, this is the kind of music that lends itself to large, gruff gestures, but as Oramo’s forensic reading confirms there’s more to this score than that. For sheer excitement, though, Järvi is hard to beat; as for Kitaienko he plays the music with a a bold, deep-rooted conviction that’s impressive too. Litton isn’t quite so overt, so visceral, but I soon came to realise that's no bad thing. The recording is exceptionally vivid, although there's an occasional hardness in the treble.
Moving on, Litton’s perky Allegro marcato is nicely phrased, and he captures the score’s veers and vacillations very well indeed. Now this is more like it. The Bergen Phil are well up to the challenge and the BIS balances are much more believable than Phoenix's; while that certainly helps to soften the music’s sharpest edges it doesn't undermine the thrust and energy of Litton's reading. Oramo’s version is the most pliant and personal one here, but some may feel that robs the music of its pith and piquancy. As for Järvi he's as taut and compelling as ever in this movement, a reminder of just how good a team he and the RSNO once were.
The yearning Adagio with its inner musings and gentle tread finds Litton at his most thoughtful and communicative. There’s a pleasing lucidity and openness here that's most welcome. In short, this is a very persuasive account of this lovely, multi-faceted movement. Built on a smaller, more intimate scale Oramo’s Adagio is the most lyrical and colourful; the Ondine recording has a very strong stereo spread, and it’s closer to BIS's in terms of subtlety and tonal sophistication. Unfortunately Oramo allows the pace to flag, which is a shame as I like what he’s trying to do. Both are commendably refined, and that makes for more congenial performances than either Järvi's or Kitaienko's; frankly, the latter have a raw edge and restless angularity that can be a tad unremitting at times.
In that rather forceful context Litton’s frisky Allegro giocoso may seem rather reticent, although it’s actually alert and keenly paced. Not only that, there's a joy, a sparkle, to this music that brisker and more declamatory performances tend to miss. I'm also extremely imprssed by the recorded sound, which really brings out the score's muances and competing timbres. Here and in the symphony as a whole Litton is nearer to the affectionate and reflective Oramo than he is to the volatile Kitaienko/Järvi. I can live with both extremes, but it's a relief - and a pleasure - to hear Prokofiev performances that don't sound like they're being forged on a factory floor.
The Scythian Suite gets a typically febrile outing, with thumping bass and glittering treble. Järvi may have the rhythmic edge, not to mention the most spectacular recording, but Litton’s no slouch either. As with the symphony he combines slam with subtlety, and there's a mervellous sense of a tale being told. He’s aided and abetted by wide-ranging sonics and an orchestra that's in tip-top condition. Indeed, this strikes me as the very best of BIS’s Grieg Hall productions to date, and that augurs well for the rest of Litton’s Prokofiev cycle.
Despite some initial reservations I’m delighted to welcome this addition to the Prokofiev discography. These are performances that grow in stature with each hearing; in fact, not only is Litton's Scythian Suite every bit as thrilling as Järvi's, it's also the more illuminating - the most interesting - of the two.
A terrific pairing, very well played and recorded; here’s to the next instalment.
– MusicWeb International
Nielsen & Sibelius: Violin Concertos / Dalene, Storgårds, Royal Stockholm Philharmonic
A Gramophone Editor's Pick, shortlisted for the Gramophone Awards!
Carl Nielsen and Jean Sibelius, alongside Grieg the two giants in Nordic classical music, were both born in 1865. Both also received their first musical training on the violin, earning valuable insights when it came to writing for the instrument. Their respective violin concertos were composed some six years apart – Sibelius’ in 1904-05 and Nielsen’s in 1911 – and belong to the most performed works of either composer. They are nevertheless as different from each other as are the artistic temperaments of their makers. While retaining the traditional three-movement concerto form, Sibelius composed something closer to a Late-Romantic orchestral tone poem giving the orchestra unusual prominence. Nielsen on the other hand opted for an unconventional form, reminiscent of the Baroque concerto grosso: the spiky, neoclassical work is nominally in two movements, but with each movement having a slow and a fast section. These works are here performed by Johan Dalene, the Swedish-Norwegian winner of the 2019 Nielsen Competition. The present disc is the 21 year old violinist’s third release on BIS, following a recording of the Tchaikovsky Concerto described as ‘one of the finest violin débuts of the last decade’ in BBC Music Magazine, and an all-Nordic violin-and-piano recital awarded distinctions such as Diapason d’or and Gramophone’s Editor’s Choice. Dalene is given the expert support of the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra and conductor John Storgårds, incidentally a violin soloist in his own right.
REVIEWS:
"Dalene returns to a work we already know he excels in, and this deeply intuitive, instinctive and empathetic recording again demonstrates his remarkable touch and feel, and the way he balances discipline and playfulness." -The Sunday Times
"For my money, there’s no finer coupling of these highly contrasting yet much-associated concertos on record. I suspect the individual performances could well prove superlative for many listeners, too." -Gramophone
Herzogenberg: Piano Quartets, String Trios, Etc / Frolich, Belcanto Strings
HERZOGENBERG Piano Quartets: in e, op. 75; in B?, op. 95 . String Trios: in A, op. 27/1; in F, op. 27/2. Legends • Belcanto Strings; Andreas Frölich (pn) • cpo 777 438 (2 CDs: 125: 33)
This is a repackaging in a budget priced twofer of previously released singles, both of which have already been reviewed in these pages. Raymond Tuttle covered the first of these two discs containing the E-Minor Piano Quartet and the A-Major String Trio in 25:2. The second disc, containing the B?-Major Piano Quartet, the F-Major String Trio, and the Legends for cello and piano, received two reviews, one by William Zagorski and another by Martin Anderson, both in 24:4. I’ve little to add to their conclusions.
By now it is well known that Heinrich von Herzogenberg (1843–1900) practically worshipped Brahms. But it wasn’t enough for him to try to imitate the elder composer’s style; he ended up marrying the woman that Brahms had proposed marriage to and then reneged on. Modern psychology might call it a classic case of transference: in marrying Elisabet von Stockhausen, was Herzogenberg subconsciously marrying Brahms, or at least getting as emotionally close to him as possible? Out of deference to Elisabet, Brahms tolerated Herzogenberg’s fawning, remaining as cordial towards him as he could; but if one reads The Herzogenberg Correspondence , edited by Max Kalbeck, it’s telling that Brahms speaks to Herzogenberg in fairly formal and neutral, if not a bit distanced, language, and more often than not addresses his letters to both Herzogenberg and Elisabet as husband and wife rather than to Herzogenberg individually.
Despite the interpersonal dynamics at work in this somewhat odd three-way relationship, Herzogenberg did manage to sustain an independent career of his own. Moving to Leipzig in 1874, he teamed up with Bach scholar Philipp Spitta to establish the Leipzig Bach Verein; and during his 10-year stewardship of the institution he tutored a number of students, one of whom was Ethel Smyth. He declined, however, to tutor Vaughan Williams, advising him instead to study with Max Bruch. Herzogenberg’s own catalog of works is fairly impressive in numbers if not in consistent quality. He wrote eight symphonies, numerous choral works, including a requiem and an oratorio, The Birth of Christ , which has enjoyed some currency, and a great deal of chamber music, of which we have five examples on these discs.
There isn’t much to say beyond what Anderson, Tuttle, and Zagorski already said in their aforementioned reviews. After “a Brahmsian wave washed over him,” Tuttle called the E-Minor Piano Quartet, written in response to Elisabet’s premature death in 1892, “one of the best works Brahms never wrote.” Its dark, brooding, and passionate first movement does indeed echo some of Brahms’s earlier chamber works with piano, but a close listening reveals Herzogenberg’s lesser grasp of formal structure and the tightly knit motivic relationships that inform Brahms’s works.
Zagorski found the B?-Major Piano Quartet almost more Brahmsian than Brahms, opining that not only could Brahms have written it, but that “it would have to be Brahms on a particularly good day.” Anderson seems to have reached the same conclusion, calling the piece “scarcely less engaging than Brahms’s own essays in the genre.” In this I would agree. This was to be Herzogenberg’s last chamber work, and so he had plenty of time and practice to perfect his carbon copying.
In the two string trios, Herzogenberg was on his own turf. Apparently, the medium held no interest for Brahms, who, to the best of my knowledge, wrote nothing for this combination of instruments. The trios are not among Herzogenberg’s earliest works; he was 36 when he wrote them in 1879. As I listened to the first of them in F Major, I tried to relate it to something I’d heard before, something I was familiar with, but a point of reference kept eluding me until I re-read Tuttle’s review. He cited Grieg, pointing to “the third movement’s central fiddle tune.” Perhaps it was just the power of suggestion, but suddenly I did begin to hear certain resemblances to some of Grieg’s orchestral writing for strings.
Legends , alternately for viola or cello and piano, was written in 1888 following a lengthy illness during which Herzogenberg had been bedridden and then only able to venture out in a wheelchair. Dedicated to Joseph Joachim, the work is in three movements, and could easily be taken to be a viola or cello sonata. It’s of an absolutely exquisite beauty, especially its central Moderato movement, and it sounds nothing like Brahms. With its sweeping arpeggios in the piano, it’s more reminiscent of Schumann, and its singing melodiousness calls to mind Saint-Saëns.
Cpo and the Belcanto Strings (Wolfgang Schröder, violin; Daniel Raiskin, viola; and Ramon Jaffé, cello), joined by pianist Andreas Frölich in the piano quartets, currently seem to have a lock on this corner of Herzogenberg’s output. It therefore pleases me to be able to report that they make excellent advocates for Herzogenberg and his music. The playing is technically polished throughout, and performances are sensitive and responsive to these scores’ many felicities and admirable qualities.
For those of you who love Romantic chamber music and have not previously acquired these discs as singles, I would strongly encourage you to add this two-disc set to your collection.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Tchaikovsky: Serenade for Strings, Op. 48 / Lychkov, Leducq-Barôme, Baltic Chamber Orchestra
The second half of the 19th century witnessed a proliferation of significant works for strings alone including the Serenades for Strings by Dvorák (1875) and Tchaikovsky (1880) and Grieg’s Holberg Suite (1884), followed by a trio of works for strings in 1892 from Suk, Wolf and Elgar. Tchaikovsky’s music for string instruments is notable for its range and consistency – and this culminates in the magnificent Violin Concerto and one of the greatest works ever conceived for string orchestra, his Serenade of 1880. Earlier, in 1873, Tchaikovsky wrote incidental music to Ostrovsky’s three-act drama The Snow Maiden. Though he abandoned the idea of adapting it into an opera, when Rimsky-Korsakov composed one on the same subject, he retained affection for this little-known work. Judging by the beautiful Melodrama of Act II, its neglect is unjustified. Eight years before that, as a 25-year-old student at the St Petersburg Conservatory he composed a String Quartet in B flat. If, as some authorities believe, it had four movements, only one has survived. Such is the inner power of the music that it takes on a more expressive hue when performed by a full string orchestra as on this recording.
Towards the end of 1884, the Moscow Society of Artists wished to honor veteran actor Ivan Samarin’s 50-year artistic career, and Tchaikovsky enthusiastically contributed a musical entr’acte. Tchaikovsky’s publisher Jurgenson persuaded the composer the music was worthy of publication, under the title Elegy, as Samarin died the year after the celebrations. When Tchaikovsky suddenly died near the end of 1893, the slow movement of his Third String Quartet was arranged for string orchestra by Glazunov for performance at his funeral service. Glazunov’s subtle and sympathetic arrangement of this fine music for full string orchestra honors his friend, the great composer, in truly noble fashion.
REVIEW:
This attractive program includes Tchaikovsky’s familiar Serenade for Strings along with four shorter works, the last of which, the Glazounov-arranged Andante Funebre e Doloroso from the Third Quartet, was played at Tchaikovsky’s funeral in 1893.
The chamber orchestra's playing is full and warm, rich in vibrato and expression. If you like Russian music played by native musicians (I’m thinking here of the old Leningrad Philharmonic, which became the St Petersburg Philharmonic in 1991) you’ll enjoy this. It’s some of Tchaikovsky’s most attractive music, richly played and beautifully recorded.
-- American Record Guide
Gade: Novelletter For Strings
The 2 Novelletten are among his most successful works. Beautifully crafted, elegant and warm they are rewarding discoveries, and a good introduction to this neglected but important figure in 19th century Scandinavian music.
-----
Very pleasant additions to the romantic string-serenade repertoire.
Niels W. Gade’s Novelettes are charming, fresh additions to the romantic string-serenade repertoire. There are two sets, the first in F and the second in E, both dating from fairly late in Gade’s career. For those listeners who enjoy Grieg’s Holberg Suite, or the serenades of Suk, Dvorák, Tchaikovsky, and Robert Fuchs, this style will need no introduction: elegant dances, lyrical melodies which rise and fall with a cool outdoor loveliness, the minor keys used merely for spice.
A standout moment might be the beginning of the second set, with its ambiguous slow introduction opening up to brighter things; the second set also features a gorgeous andante with a fine role for the cellos. The first also opens with a lovely slow introduction, and it closes with a finale that brings to mind Mendelssohn’s Octet with its light-hearted fugato opening and perpetual-motion effects.
This isn’t exactly at the top of the string-serenade ladder, not next to Tchaikovsky, Suk, and Dvorák. It’s not even on the second rung, where Fuchs and Dag Wirén reside. The first two Fuchs serenades were just released on a gorgeous Naxos CD which I’d recommend over this one if you only buy one pretty string music disc per year. It doesn’t help that the recorded sound, analog from 1981, is slightly glassy, or that the Aarhus Chamber Orchestra’s work as an ensemble isn’t as polished as that of the best chamber orchestras we have today. Another cause for slight hesitation is the booklet note, which profiles Gade so strongly that we only get 18 words about the actual Novelettes. The CD lasts just 43 minutes.
But please notice I only said slight hesitation! This is still lovely music, fresh and totally enjoyable, and an unquestionably fine way to pass 43 minutes’ time. It’s at Brilliant’s usual bargain price. That said, the same price gets you ten minutes’ more music (and more colorful music too) on the Naxos Fuchs album; though I usually wouldn’t recommend one composer over another in a review, I do listen to my romantic string music to satisfy a particular craving, or mood, and other composers fulfil that mood better than does Niels W. Gade. Still, this is very nice, and there is nothing wrong with very nice!
– Brian Reinhart, MusicWeb International
GOOD NIGHT
Smyth: The Prison / Burton, Brailey, Blachly, Experiential Orchestra
The 2020 GRAMMY Award winner for Best Classical Solo Vocal Performance, honoring Sarah Brailey and Dashon Burton!
August 18th marks the 100th anniversary of the 19th Constitutional Amendment, granting women in the US the right to vote. A fitting time then for our release of the World Premier Recording of Ethel Smyth’s late masterpiece The Prison. Smyth left home at nineteen to study composition in Leipzig. In the company of Clara Schumann and her teacher Heinrich von Herzogenberg, she met and won the admiration of composers such as Tchaikovsky, Brahms, Dvorák, and Grieg. Smyth was the first woman to have an opera performed at the Met, in 1903. (The second was Kaija Saariaho, whose L'Amour de loin appeared there in 2016!) Smyth later became central to the Suffragette movement in England, writing the March of the Women. Her gender politics and sexuality were cause for attacks by critics, and she famously went to prison herself for throwing a stone through an MP’s window. Composed in 1930 and premiered in 1931 in Edinburgh’s Usher Hall, The Prison is a Symphony in two parts, ‘Close on Freedom’ and ‘The Deliverance’, set for soprano and bass-baritone soloists, chorus, and full orchestra. The text is taken from a philosophical work by Henry Bennet Brewster and concerns the writings of a prisoner in solitary confinement, his reflections on life and his preparations for death.
REVIEWS:
Ethyl Smyh's late work, The Prison (1929-30), is uncategorizable. The 64-minute “vocal symphony” for bass-baritone (The Prisoner) and soprano (his Soul), with chorus (philosophical commentary) is in two parts: Close To Freedom and The Deliverance. The heavy-ish text, by Smyth’s dear friend (and perhaps lover, though her relationships tended otherwise to be lesbian) Henry Bennet Brewster centers on the gloomy ruminations of a prisoner considering the end of his life, and his soul, which is guiding him toward peace. In Part 1, He, for instance speaks of his anxiety and inability to sleep, and wonders about immortality and if he will be emancipated; in Part 2, the Soul tells him the end of his struggle is near and he learns to “disband his ego”. The chorus has a further calming effect: immortality is everywhere, human passions remain. He finally finds peace. As you can see, a regular Offenbachian satire–not.
From the very opening moments – “I awoke in the middle of the night” – the mood is weighty with disquiet. The bass-baritone voice of Dashon Burton has both substance and gentleness, his attention to the text that of a Lieder singer. Violin and harp circle his words. Sarah Brailey’s Soul, from the start, sings with subtlety and a type of fleeting loveliness. She opens the second part with a solo on the words “the struggle is over”, intoning much of her words on one note while first a trio of winds, then a solo violin, then the full body of strings and chorus–all pianissimo–join her above and below. Chant? Hymn? Both, really. Smyth layers the orchestra; a brass choir during a passage about immortality makes a grand effect. Later, a painfully beautiful pastoral section precedes the Prisoner’s feeling of metaphysical freedom.
While much of it is gripping, its slow pacing and didacticism can dehumanize the story that the Prisoner and Soul are stuck in. The Prisoner’s “prison”, both metaphorical and real, is presented with such humanity and openness by Burton that his eventual spiritual freedom makes a glorious sound, despite–rather than due to–the orchestrally and chorally weighted underpinnings. Some Elgar shows up, and is not very welcome.
The performance, I suspect, could not be bettered. The New York City-based Experiential Orchestra and Chorus both perform with luscious tone and poise. James Blachly’s leadership brings the work’s lyricism to the forefront; it would be easy to over-emphasize passages but he works best within the dramatic arc of the narrative. Much of The Prison is gorgeous and unexpected – who does Smyth sound like? And while some moments seem inert, they are few and far between.
– ClassicsToday.com (10/10; Robert Levine)
Smyth’s haunting music, given here in conductor James Blachly’s new edition, is beautifully constructed and highly evocative (with quotes or allusions to earlier Smyth scores). Her orchestration is limpid and masterly, rendered lovingly here by Blachly with the Experiential Orchestra. The choral contribution is relatively minor, the focus rightly on the two soloists, but again superbly performed. The only miscalculation is Smyth’s use of ‘The Last Post’ in the concluding pages, adding a martial resonance that may jar to modern ears; to Smyth, a major-general’s daughter, it may just have been an echo of (her) youth which she wanted at this point. Magnificent sound from Chandos, too. Very strongly recommended.
– Gramophone
MIDSUMMER ODYSSEY - THE MUSIC OF LARS GULLIN
SIBELIUS: Rakastava / FORDELL: I folkton / SVENDSEN: Allt un
Fuchs: Serenades Nos. 1 & 2 / Christian Ludwig, Cologne Chamber Orchestra

Robert Fuchs (1847-1927) is best known today as the composition teacher of Mahler, Sibelius, Enesco, Korngold, Schreker, Zemlinsky, and just about everyone else who happened to be at the Vienna Conservatory from the late 19th century onward. As a composer he earned the respect of Brahms, probably because Brahms didn't feel threatened by him, and was totally forgotten after his death. During his lifetime he was best known for his string serenades, two of which feature on this recording, along with the late (and quite substantial) Andante and Capriccio Op. 63.
Let's get straight to the point: the music is wonderful--gracious, tuneful, not a note too long, and an unalloyed delight from first note to last. Yes, it's not "heavy" or "serious", but really, who cares? If you like Dvorák's or Tchaikovsky's string serenades, or Grieg's Holberg Suite, or Sibelius' Valse triste, then you are going to love this disc. The performances are perfect: flowing, rhythmically clean and snappy, immaculately tuned, and affectionately phrased. It just doesn't get any better, and the sonics are pristine. The Viennese, of course, have always been suckers for light music, but that only made them particularly discerning. They went crazy for Fuchs. Check out this disc and find out why.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
---------------
FUCHS Serenades: No. 1 in D; No. 2 in C. Andante grazioso and Capriccio • Christian Ludwig, cond; Cologne CO • NAXOS 8.572222 (53:52)
His friends called him “Serenaden-Fuchs” (Serenading Fox), a pun on his name, while the sparingly complimentary Brahms praised him as a “splendid musician.” He was Robert Fuchs (1847–1927), an Austrian composer and professor of theory and composition at the Vienna Conservatory whose students comprised an extraordinary roll-call of up-and-coming talents: Enescu, Korngold, Mahler, Melartin, Sibelius, Schmidt, Schreker, Wolf, and Zemlinsky.
As a musical genre the serenade found itself largely neglected after Mozart, at least until Brahms revived it with his two symphonic-scaled serenades in the late 1850s. Despite Mozart’s lending a greater gravity to the form, especially with his so-called “Gran Partita,” the genre continued to carry the stigma of its 18th-century antecedent as a type of lightweight, summer’s eve, al fresco entertainment, at a time when Austro-German Romanticism in particular saw itself as cultural custodian of the serious and the profound. Thus, even after Brahms’s two mid 19th-century examples, it would be another 25 years before composers would enrich the repertoire with serenades that, in content and dimensions, resembled symphonies or symphonic suites in all but name.
When Fuchs came to compose his First Serenade in 1874, his main models were the two efforts by Brahms and the three serenades by Robert Volkmann (1869–70). But by the time he got around to composing his fifth and final serenade in 1894, many masterly and magnificent serenades had already made their way into the world: Dvo?ák (1878), Tchaikovsky (1880), Strauss (1882), Wolf (1887), Suk (1892), and Elgar (1892), and not long after, Reinecke (1898); Dohnányi (1902), Sinding (1902 and 1909), Reger (several between 1904 and 1906), and Stenhammar (1913) would add to the growing list.
If the serenades had been Fuchs’s only contribution to music, it might explain why he virtually vanished from the mainstream almost immediately after his death, even though he’d been highly regarded in his own day. But the fact is that Fuchs worked in all the major musical media and his output, which included symphonies, concertos, a large volume of chamber works, three masses, and two operas, was considerable and diverse. And all of it—at least the works I’ve heard—is nothing but expertly crafted and melodically inspired.
Of Fuchs’s five serenades, the first three are scored for strings only and the fourth adds only two horns to the string ensemble. In the string-only pieces, however, textural richness is achieved through division of parts, so that for much of the time we are hearing six or even seven voices. Sometimes the violas play divided parts; other times, first or second violins are divided; and still other times violins and violas are divided at the same time. This lends both breadth and depth to the writing, allowing for greater fullness and luminosity to the sound as well as greater flexibility to the interplay of voices as they overlap and weave around each other.
As I said, if the serenades were Fuchs’s sole contribution to music, his disappearance from the scene might not be so surprising, for I will be the first to admit that these are not the stuff great reputations are made of. They were popular in their day precisely because they were the popular music of the day. As one listens to these serenades, especially their fast-paced movements, it’s easy to discern how Fuchs’s style was influenced by the polkas and quadrilles of Johann Strauss Jr., another composer, by the way, much admired by Brahms. So associating Fuchs with this type of crowd-pleasing entertainment music is not to denigrate him as a composer. His symphonies, concertos, and chamber works tell us that he was a man of both talent and substance. His serenades are tuneful, occasionally touching, and always enjoyable, reminding me in ways of some of Grieg’s orchestral music, like the Lyric Suite.
In checking all of the usual mail-order sources, I was surprised to find no complete collection of Fuchs’s five serenades. In fact, you would have to hunt down some fairly obscure labels featuring some fairly provincial ensembles to find recordings of Nos. 3 and 5, not to mention other versions besides this one of Nos. 1 and 2. And I had no luck at all finding even a single recording of No. 4. I guess I hadn’t realized when I began this review just how far Fuchs’s serenades had fallen on hard times, for the rest of his output in general is reasonably well represented on disc.
The Andante grazioso and Capriccio that concludes the disc is no insignificant filler. At 17 and a half minutes, it’s longer than the Serenade No. 2, and, written in 1900, it’s a work postdating the last of the composer’s serenades. Harmonically more advanced and complex, and emotionally darker than the serenades, the piece, suggests note author Anthony Short, is an example of Fuchs the teacher being influenced by his students, namely Sibelius.
One can only hope that this new recording of the first two serenades with the Cologne Chamber Orchestra directed by Christian Ludwig is the first in a survey that will bring us the remaining three, for in every respect the performances and recording are excellent. Strongly recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
