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Elgar from the Archives, Vol. 2
$20.99CDSOMM Recordings
Mar 27, 2026ARIADNE 5047 -
Elgar: From the Archives, Vol. 1
$20.99CDSOMM Recordings
Jan 16, 2026ARIADNE 5046 -
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DIE FLEDERMAUS: COMP OPERA PLUS BONUS GALASCENE &
Yamada: Symphony "Triumph & Peace," Madara No Hana, The Dark Gate / Yuasa, Ulster Orchestra
Certainly, there is a profound difference in tone and intent in the two symphonic poems composed in 1913. The brooding harmonies, more colorful orchestration, occasional bombastic eruptions, and less formal constraints of The Dark Gate point to the influence of Richard Strauss, and there’s even a hint of Scriabinesque mystery. Some credit, however, should go to Yamada’s ability as a psychological scene-painter, since the music was inspired by a poem describing the anxiety felt by a group of sightless persons unable to escape from behind a large gate. Likewise, the symbolism of death and paradise in Madara No Hana finds its voice in lush, Impressionistic orchestration (including a tenor saxophone!) and outbursts that suggest a familiarity with Mussorgsky as well as Scriabin.
Interestingly, Katayama mentions that Yamada came to the US in 1918–19 and conducted the New York Symphony Orchestra (now Philharmonic) twice in Carnegie-Hall concerts of his own music. What he does not relate is that Yamada’s desire to become established as a composer/conductor in the West was, ironically, apparently hindered by his fluency in Western compositional styles; American audiences wanted something exotic, and at this time Yamada’s music lacked Japanese character. By 1921, however, Yamada composed a symphony, Inno Meiji, that combined traditional Japanese instruments with a symphony orchestra, anticipating post-WW II trends, and whatever confluence of styles he might have subsequently devised remain so-far unheard by the bulk of non-Japanese listeners. Perhaps Naxos will document Inno Meiji, and some of Yamada’s later work. In the meantime, the historical and curiosity factors outweigh the sheer musical pleasures of this initial release.
Art Lange, FANFARE
Georg Schumann: Symphony In B Minor; Serenade, Op. 34 / Gedschold, Munich Radio Symphony
G. SCHUMANN Symphony in b. Serenade for Large Orchestra, Op. 34 • Christoph Gedschold, cond; Munich RO • CPO 777464 (73:32)
Having struck pay dirt with another of its exhumations, Georg Schumann—see review of his piano trios in 35: 5—CPO, label of the Long Lost Composers Society—here resurrects Schumann’s Symphony in B Minor and his Serenade, op. 34. Georg Alfred Schumann (1866–1952) is yet another composer that can be added to the list of blue-ribbon winners produced under Carl Reinecke’s tutelage at the Leipzig Conservatory, and the term “blue-ribbon” is not used metaphorically. In 1886, still a student at the conservatory, Schumann composed this B-Minor Symphony, and when he entered it in an orchestral composition competition two years later it took first prize out of 57 entries. It’s doubtful that the award so swelled his head that he actually appended the subtitle, “Prize-winning Symphony” to his score, but CPO does, treating it as if it were a cognomen like “Pathétique” or “The Inextinguishable.” “Oh, have you heard my Symphony in B Minor, the ‘Prize-winning?’”
Schumann’s symphony lends itself to easy description; it’s the Sixth Symphony Mendelssohn might have written had he lived. No disparagement is meant by that. Mendelssohn is the score’s model and its main influence; as much is admitted by the liner note. Even though Mendelssohn was long dead by the time Georg Schumann came to compose his symphony, it’s no surprise that the young composer would pay tribute to the deceased master. It’s both a reflection of Schumann’s youth and the conservative musical training and values fostered by Reinecke and the Leipzig Conservatory, not to mention the reverence accorded Mendelssohn in the very halls of the conservatory he had founded.
While there’s little originality in its pages, Schumann’s symphony is a beautifully written score; its four conventionally laid out movements are filled with tuneful melodies and a mastery of harmony, counterpoint, and orchestration that confirm it as a composition of consummate craft, if not necessarily one of great art. Certainly it can give pleasure and be appreciated by anyone who enjoys mid-19-century Romantic period orchestral works.
The Serenade for Large Orchestra, written around the turn of the century—it was premiered in 1902—is, unsurprisingly, more venturesome in style and musical vocabulary. It’s also unusual in that while more or less adhering to the formal layout of a serenade, the piece is actually a tone poem in five movements, each movement depicting a tableau in the tale of a rejected lover. But if this leads you to expect music of a forlorn, downcast mien, you’re in for a surprise. Schumann’s model now seems to be Richard Strauss’s tone poems. The score is filled with what Schumann describes as “opponents” and “ridiculers” who chirp and chatter away apparently scolding and mocking the lover for whatever he did that got him booted out of the boudoir. The musical effect is not dissimilar to, though nowhere near as barbed as the carping critics in, Strauss’s Ein Heldenleben . Schumann was probably familiar with Strauss’s tone poems, but neither his talent nor his ambition rose to Strauss’s levels of orchestral extravagance and exhibitionism.
Christoph Gedschold leads the Munich Radio Orchestra in convincing performances. I wouldn’t call either the symphony or the serenade a deathless masterpiece, but if you’ve grown a bit jaded listening to the same Romantic period symphonies and tone poems over and over again, here are two new additions to the recorded repertoire that will temporarily relieve your boredom. Recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Strauss, R.: Don Juan / Tod Und Verklärung / Till Eulenspieg
Elgar from the Archives, Vol. 2
Elgar: From the Archives, Vol. 1
Strauss: Salome / Schonwandt, Nielsen, Hale, Goldberg, Et Al
Recorded in: Danish Radio Concert Hall, Copenhagen 18-23 & 25-29 August 1997 Sound Engineer(s) Jørn Jacobsen Producer(s) Brian Couzens Executive Claus Due
American Classics - Anderson: Orchestral Music Vol 5
What a pleasure to hear such jolly upbeat music. Leroy Anderson’s Goldilocks music lifts the spirits right from the start. This, the fifth album in the Naxos Anderson series, concentrates almost entirely on his music for the 1958 Broadway musical. Alas it was not a success; it expired after only 161 performances. The book took most of the blame. The show’s title Goldilocks probably didn’t help it much either and at that time there was a lot of competition on Broadway including: West Side Story, The Music Man and My Fair Lady. But Leroy Anderson’s music was mostly praised.
The Goldilocks Overture sparkles; all the excerpt numbers are little gems. ‘One Good Kiss Deserves Another’ has a winning melody. William Dazely singing nicely in the ballad style of the period and is joined by a nicely coy Kim Criswell. ‘Shall I Take My Heart and Go’ is another lovely, dreamily-romantic ballad. This number is also reprised separately as an instrumental item. These two songs alone, one feels, should have ensured the success of Goldilocks especially as presented here. But this 70+ reviewer is an unashamed romantic and a lover of the musicals of this period.
Additionally there is: ‘The Pussy Foot’, a terrific swing number that will set your feet a-tapping. The ‘Pirate Dance’ bounces cheekily along, tongue-in-cheek redolent of all those Tyrone Power and Errol Flynn swashbucklers of that period. The droll ‘Who’s Been Sitting in My Chair’ is quite unlike Eric Coates’s Three Bears, rather it begins in Old-English rustic style before developing into a burlesque-like number - apparently in the show Maggie actually dances to it with a guy in a bear suit. The memorable ‘The Lady-in-Waiting Ballet’ is a quintessential Leroy Anderson with its sweeping, swinging waltz tune. ‘The Lady in Waiting Waltz’ (played later, separately) glistens and it has witty allusions to Richard Strauss’s Till Eulenspiegel and Der Rosenkavalier. ‘The Town Maxixe’ is an easy-going number that swings along interrupted by material reminiscent of old-style madrigal tunes. ‘I Never Knew When’ is another appealing romantic ballad, but without vocals, beginning almost Arabian Nights-like before developing into smoochiness. The ‘Pyramid Dance’ is all exuberance, bouncing and rushing along, a sort of mix of Khachaturian and Rimsky-Korsakov.
Followers of the reviews of the preceding four volumes in this series will no doubt remember that Leroy Anderson arranged a number of suites of carols for different combinations of instruments - the others were for strings and brass. This collection,
for wind instruments, comprises: ‘Angels in our Fields’, ‘O Sanctissima’; ‘O come, O come Emmanuel, O come’ (an inspired little pastorale); ‘Little Children’; ‘Coventry Carol’; and ‘Patapan’.
As before Leonard Slatkin and the BBC Concert Orchestra offer polished, genial readings full of joie de vivre.
Goldilocks strikes gold. Undeservedly neglected light music.
-- Ian Lace, MusicWeb International
Strauss: Die Ägyptische Helena / Keilberth, Rysanek, Et Al
TONE POEMS: ALSO SPRACH ZARATHUSTRA / DON JUAN
NEW CENTURY
MEISTERSAAL SESSIONS / VOL. 1: ROMANTIC CHAMBER
Taneyev: Oresteia Overture & Interlude, Canzona, Etc / Sanderling, Et Al
Taneyev may not be high on most people's list of 19th-century Russian composers but that could change as this Naxos series progresses. The First and Third symphonies with the Novosibirsk orchestra under Thomas Sanderling - son of the illustrious Kurt - certainly impressed me and, if anything, this new release has heightened my admiration for composer and orchestra alike.
Taneyev's only opera, based on Aeschylus's Oresteia, was recorded by DG and Olympia some time ago, but neither version is in the current catalogue. Curiously, the overture was composed and performed several years before the opera was completed. It's a substantial piece in its own right, lasting around 20 minutes, and listeners may be forgiven for thinking they've stumbled on a little-known piece of Wagner or Richard Strauss. That said, this is more than musical mimicry, revealing a rich supply of motile Russian melodies and a symphonic sweep that wouldn't have disgraced Taneyev's great friend and mentor, Tchaikovsky. From that first Stygian string theme through to its restrained finale this overture is full of lovely touches; and even though there is a whiff of Scriabin in those aromatic harmonies Sanderling ensures they never cloy or overwhelm the senses.
Arguably the Act III Entr'acte is even more seductive - it certainly has a Straussian amplitude - which is probably why this piece was so popular during the composer's lifetime. I was particularly struck by the sheer passion and unanimity of the playing and Sanderling's firm, clear-eyed view of the score. The recording is just as satisfying, deep when it needs to be and suitably grand in the splendid climaxes. Indeed, any misgivings I might have had about this band and their conductor simply evaporated at this point.
How very different that all is to the delectable Adagio in C major, written during the composer's final year at the Moscow Conservatory. As Anastasia Belina points out in her liner notes, much of Taneyev's youthful work was only discovered years later. The Adagio, published in 1950, is a real gem, especially when it's played with such elegance and refinement. And how different again is the Overture on a Russian Theme, written for the All-Russian Art and Trade Exhibition of 1882. Taneyev makes use of authentic Russian songs - as collected by Rimsky-Korsakov - forging them into a piece that has all the cut and thrust of a Cossack sword. It's virile stuff, guaranteed to please those who like their Russians to strut and swagger.
The style of the cantata, written for the opening of the Pushkin Memorial in Moscow, is echoed in the celebratory music of post-revolutionary Russia, used to great effect by the likes of Prokofiev and Shostakovich. That's not to suggest this is merely a patriotic prole-pleaser, because it isn't; it may be just 64 bars long but it has all the passion and splendour of those great choral numbers in Alexander Nevsky. As for the Canzona it's a frothy little confection, complemented by the bright-toned playing of clarinettist Stanislav Yankovsky. A slight piece, perhaps, but enjoyable none the less.
The Overture in D minor, like the Adagio, is an early work and this time it shows. It has a bluff quality - and a tendency to outstay its welcome - that the other pieces in this collection manage to avoid. (I wonder if other listeners can hear Brahms in this music?) Still, one mildly disappointing piece out of seven isn't bad, and it certainly isn't enough to dilute my enthusiasm for this disc as a whole. Factor in committed playing and full-blooded sound and you have one of the year's most entertaining releases so far.
Go on, treat yourself.
-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International
Wolfgang Sawallisch - The Complete Opera Recordings on Warner Classics
Rózsa: Violin Concerto, Sinfonia Concertante / Khitruk
Miklos Rózsa arrived in Hollywood in 1940 after study in Leipzig and a stint in Paris where Arthur Honegger encouraged him to compose music for films. In California he found a strong community of expatriate composers including Stravinsky, Schoenberg and Korngold, and some of the finest instrumental soloists then active, including Heifetz, Rubinstein and Piatigorsky. By the time he renewed his contract with MGM in 1952, his reputation was such that he was able to demand an unprecedented three months off per year to compose concert music. The first fruits of this arrangement came in the form of a violin concerto, written for Jascha Heifetz. Although the work was completed in the summer of 1952, Heifetz would not play the premiere until 1956 in Dallas. Enthusiastically received, it would soon be recorded by RCA, and this recording was to remain alone in the catalogue for nearly forty years.
Unlike the concerto by his colleague Erich Wolfgang Korngold - also written for Heifetz - Rózsa’s work is far more harmonically adventuresome, though not without considerable episodes of soaring lyricism, particularly in the elegant and airy second movement. Korngold, whose music tended toward an ultra-romanticism à la Richard Strauss, eschewed some of the tangier dissonances employed by Rózsa. One can perhaps attribute the difference in style to the fact that Rózsa grew up in Hungary, whose folk music tradition was considerably more rustic than that of Korngold’s Vienna. Regardless of his sources, Rózsa creates an austere, almost wintry landscape with his music, music that is tautly composed, carefully structured and gracefully assembled. Even in the rather aggressive and stark final movement, Rózsa spins one colorful melody after and other around a punchy and rhythmic accompaniment long on brass interjections and percussive effects from all sections of the orchestra, drums included.
Anastasia Khitruk is an able successor to Heifetz, exhibiting both ample virtuosity and a warm singing tone that is both thrilling and engaging. She plays passionately and yet always in firm control over her emotions, bring the listener often to the edge of his chair without ever dumping him on the floor. Dmitry Yablonsky leads a finely tuned and rhythmically precise Russian Philharmonic Orchestra. The refined brass playing, not often a hallmark of Russian orchestras is not only refreshing but highly exhilarating. Balance between soloist and orchestra is fine, and the recording has the perfect combination of rich tone and clarity.
The composer’s experience with his Sinfonia Concertante was not nearly as happy. Originally proposed by Piatigorsky, the completed work was considered unsatisfactory by the performers - particularly Heifetz - and the two dedicatees played only a considerably reworked second movement. The work would not see a full performance until some time later in Chicago, where it was deemed over-long and again met with a number of revisions before reaching the form that is heard in this recording.
Considerably richer in texture than the violin concerto, the composer’s Hungarian roots are very evident in the melodies with their angular rhythms and acerbic harmonies. One can almost taste the goulash in the wonderfully pungent theme and variations, and yet, when the music needs a moment of repose, Rózsa weaves in a lush romantic theme worthy of any of his film scores. The work concludes with a heavy brass and percussion laden finale, set out in contrast to the fleet passage work of the soloists.
Ms. Khitruk is joined by an able and expressive partner in Andrey Tchekmazov whose thick-fingered tone and versatile range of expression serve the music well. There is a good deal of audible sniffing and snorting from the soloist(s) in this work that is not present in the Violin Concerto, a habit that this writer has always found unnecessary, distracting and indeed downright annoying. Mr. Yablonsky delivers the same kind of tight ensemble playing, coupled with a warm unified string sound that he gave in the Violin Concerto.
To summarize, these are works of high artistic merit and one can hope that they will appear more often in the concert halls of the world, particularly the violin concerto.
-- Kevin Sutton, MusicWeb International
Pejačević: Piano Concerto, Symphony in F-Sharp / Donohoe, Oramo, BBC Symphony
Countess Mária Theodora (Dora) Paulina Pejačević was born in September 1885 in Budapest. Young Dora grew up with all the advantages of an aristocrat: a fairy-tale life of opulent palaces set in idyllic landscapes; privilege, comfort, leisure, and wealth. From an early age she defied convention and walked her own path, one that eventually led her to ‘despise’ the aristocracy. Her father, Count Teodor Pejačević, a lawyer, held several high posts, including that of Civil Governor of Croatia, Slavonia, and Dalmatia (1903 – 07). Her mother, Lilla Vay de Vaya, an ‘exceptionally beautiful’ Hungarian countess, was a gifted pianist and singer, and a fine amateur artist.
Her parents arranged private lessons with teachers at the Music School of the Croatian Music Institute, at Zagreb, which lead to further instruction in Dresden and Munich. Dissatisfied with the ‘limits’ of her formal studies, Pejačević pursued her own intensive course of self-instruction in composition. Having taken her music education into her own hands, she set off to enrich and broaden her intellectual horizons, travelling to cultural centres in Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia, and Hungary. During these travels, she came to know the leading artists, poets, and intellectuals of the day. The Piano Concerto was her first orchestral composition, and the first piano concerto by any Croatian composer. She composed the Symphony in F sharp minor during the first world war, whilst also working as a volunteer nurse. For its first complete performance, in 1920, she revised the work, which is here recorded in this final version.
REVIEWS:
"[The Piano Concerto] boasts attractive melodies, warmly lush orchestration and technically demanding piano writing. Peter Donohoe revels in its manifold opportunities for virtuosic display, but also brings poetry and requisite tenderness to the beautifully lyrical writing in the slow movement. The Symphony is even more impressive…Sakari Oramo and the BBC Symphony Orchestra, supported by Chandos’s customary warm engineering, clearly believe in the works and deliver an extremely compelling performance."
– BBC Music magazine (Erik Levi)
Peter Donohoe’s barn-storming style suits the piano concerto and Sakari Oramo conducts as if these were repertoire works. The recording is rich and full, in the Chandos manner, even though I was listening in ordinary two channel stereo…
– MusicWeb International (Stephen Barber)
The beginning of Pejačević’s first—and only—symphony emerges like a Brahmsian cortege, garlanded with grand strokes and unusually expressive melodies that wouldn’t sound out of place in [Alexander] Borodin’s musical world. But it soon picks up the strange beauty of [Richard] Strauss’s unsettling textures and harmonies, along with his predilection for the cinematic.
Croatian musicologist and Pejačević biographer Koraljka Kos characterizes her work during World War I as 'vigorous,' and borne 'perhaps out of the need to fence herself off from some of the awful reality she witnessed daily.' What she witnessed wasn’t at a remove; despite growing up in an aristocratic family, Pejačević rejected the leisure of her class in favor of work and, during the war, volunteered as a nurse in her village of Našice.
...For all of the threads of music history that come together in Pejačević’s works, their real attraction lies in [a] Caravaggio-esque chiaroscuro, written with an assertive hand but designed to evoke in the listener a sense of precariousness and dispossession. Brahms and Strauss wield power. Pejačević remonstrates it.
--Van Magazine (Olivia Giovetti)
Violin Lullabies / Pine
VIOLIN LULLABIES • Rachel Barton Pine (vn); Matthew Hagle (pn) • ÇEDILLE 90000 139 (68:35)
BRAHMS Wiegenlied. YSAŸE Rêve d’enfant. REBIKOV Berceuse. BEACH Berceuse No 2. SCHWAB Berceuse Ecossaise. RESPIGHI Berceuse. GERSHWIN Summertime. FALLA Nana. FAURÉ Berceuse. SIBELIUS Berceuse No. 6. VIARDOT-GARCIA Berceuse No. 3. HOVHANNES Oror. STRAVINSKY Firebird: Berceuse. RAVEL Berceuse sur le Nom de Fauré. CLARKE Lullaby. SCHUBERT Wiegenlied. SCHUMANN Cradle Song. DUROSOIR Berceuse No. 4. GRIEG Berceuse. ANTSEV Au Berceau. R. STRAUSS Wiegenlied. SIVORI Berceuse. BERAUD Petite Reine Berceuse. STILL Mother and Child. REGER Wiegenlied
What a beautiful recording this is! It fills a real need as well. A mother or father can put this recording on and relax listening to its clear and present sound while feeding and bonding with the baby. This album also gives us a chance to see how composers from different cultures and different eras handled this particular type of composition. The CD opens with the universally loved Brahms Lullaby , which Rachel Barton Pine says her mother sang to her. You may have had the same experience. Mine sang it to me in German. Johannes Brahms wrote his Wiegenlied or Cradle Song in 1868 to celebrate the birth of a second son to his Viennese friends Arthur and Bertha Faber. Eugène Ysaÿe wrote his Rêve d’Enfant for his own son, Antoine, who would later be his father’s biographer and publisher. In 1913, he actually recorded it, too, at a very slow tempo. Pine and Hagle play the Ysaÿe and Brahms pieces at moderate tempos and with great delicacy of tone. Their notes fall as gently as rose petals. Vladimir Rebikov is a little known composer whose music leads into the compositions of Debussy, Scriabin, and even Stravinsky. Pine plays Amy Beach’s Berceuse (lullaby) using a warm toned mute that evokes daydreams. Listening to her play it is a calming antidote to everyday stress. Ludwig Schwab’s lullaby clothes the baby in an aural tartan coverlet as Pine and Hagle play the composer’s version of a Scottish tune. Pine also renders Respighi’s long-lined melody with a warm-toned mute while Hagle plays the piano part with the fleetest of fingers. We all know the tune of George Gershwin’s Summertime, but Pine gives us her own fascinating take on it. Pine uses a mute with a rather mysterious tone for Manuel de Falla’s Spanish Nana. Its words, “Sleep little star of the morning,” might hit a familiar note with parents! Gabriel Fauré’s pastel tones and Jean Sibelius’s charming melody bring us back to cooler lands and sweet invitations to slumber. Research shows that neither Rebecca Clarke nor Amy Beach had children, so of the women composers represented here only the famous singer and pianist Pauline Viardot-Garcia could have sung her lullaby to her own baby. The music of Alan Hovhaness always had a hint of mystery and this early lullaby is no exception. Pine and Hagle play it smoothly, so that its inventive harmonies fascinate the ear. The Firebird is a ballet based on a folk tale about a magical creature that sings at night and pecks at golden fruit. Its eloquent music spices up the middle of this disc with its unique harmonies.
Maurice Ravel’s music envelopes the listener in its gossamer fabric and its colors dance in the air. Rebecca Clarke was a violist and her contribution makes use of the violin’s lower strings. The delicate radiance of Pine’s rendition holds the listener in thrall. Like the Brahms, Schubert’s Cradle Song is a familiar tune. Here it is rendered in flawless form complete with gorgeous double-stopping. The Schumann Slumber Song is one of his lesser-known pieces. Like the Durosoir that follows, it massages the ears. So do the charming Grieg and Antsev pieces. I hope we get to hear more of the latter’s music. Pine and Hagle’s version of Richard Strauss’s Cradle Song strikes a delicate balance between lullaby and concert aria. Like Respighi, Camillo Sivori wrote his music with the long lines of bel canto and topped it off with a challenging finale that Pine tosses off with ease. Victor Beraud is the pen name of British composer G. Frank Blackbourne. He wrote his Lullaby for a Little Queen for piano. Edward Elgar then arranged it for violin and piano. African-American composer William Grant Still wrote his warm toned and inviting yet intense Mother and Child in 1943. Max Reger’s Cradle Song , a dreamy invitation to sleep, shows a very different side of his creativity. In addition to the music on this CD, there is a download available with three more lullabies: Alexander Iljinsky’s Berceuse No. 7 from the opera Noure and Anitra, Xavier Montsalvatge’s Nana, and Betty King Jackson’s Lullaby. These three show the variety of cultures that lullabies cover. Pine and Hagle play each of them idiomatically with great attention to detail and the ultimate in musical values. This is a truly beautiful disc and I think it will have great appeal to our readers.
FANFARE: Maria Nockin
Casella: Symphony No 1, Concerto For Strings, Piano, Timpani & Percussion / La Vecchia
At first glance, Casella’s enrolment at the Paris Conservatoire - Gabriel Fauré was one of his teachers - and his admiration for Debussy might suggest strong links with French music of the period. However, the First Symphony, which dates from 1905, doesn’t strike me as particularly Gallic, either in sensibility or sound world; indeed, Casella is quoted in the liner-notes, where he dismisses the work as a potpourri of Borodin, Brahms and Enescu. These influences may be there, but they aren’t striking. Perhaps it’s the Italian band and conductor who are to blame, as they add a touch of southern warmth to this absorbing score.
True, the brooding start to the Lento seems Russianate, but then there’s an arresting lyricism in the strings and an orchestral blush that speaks more of Richard Strauss. As for the Roman orchestra they sound full-bodied and precise, climaxes expanding with plenty of weight and impact. Musically the score may seem a tad threadbare at times, but it’s well shaped and convincingly paced. Initial impressions suggest this is not the youthful indiscretion it first seems; in fact, the Adagio - reprised in the Second Symphony - is rather lovely. After a quiet, rather unsettling theme at the outset there are some melting string tunes - just listen to the passage that begins at 3:44. It really is luminous, heart-stopping music, most eloquently phrased.
The final movement, like the first, is a dark-toned Lento, the grumble of percussion at the start thrillingly caught. And, for the first time, there’s a real sense of nobility, a Wagnerian amplitude if you like, the muted brass simply splendid. Moreover, there’s a momentum here - listen out for that recurring, jaunty little tune - and a firm sense of purpose, which ensures that any structural weaknesses are artfully concealed. Such advocacy augurs well for the rest of this series; indeed, having heard both Noseda and La Vecchia’s accounts of the Second Symphony I can assure you the latter yields little or nothing to the former in terms of execution although, as expected, the Chandos sound is both weightier and more spacious.
The concerto is a wartime work, written while the composer was recovering from a serious illness. The soft edges of the symphony are replaced here by a harder, more muscular idiom, which includes strong, uncompromising rhythms. There’s plenty of bite to the strings, ever-present timps commendably crisp and clear, the Sarabande more lyrical - and inward - than one might expect. The piano part is carefully woven into the musical fabric, which only shows signs of fraying in the latter half of this movement. The brisk, martial opening to the final Allegro - snare drums very much in evidence - takes us back to the sinewy world of the first. It’s well played and tightly argued, the muted march coloured by the gentlest of taps on the tam-tam.
So, a most encouraging start to this new cycle which, along with Noseda’s, will surely bring this music back into the mainstream, where it belongs. It seems entirely right that La Vecchia and his Roman band are leading the charge; goodness knows, they play this music with verve and vision - and that’s just what it needs
Nice one, Naxos.
-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International
The Cleveland Orchestra Centennial Celebration [Blu-ray]
Also available on standard DVD
Franz Welser-Möst has conducted The Cleveland Orchestra in a series of acclaimed video and audio productions, further enhancing the ensemble’s storied recorded legacy. At the Anniversary Gala on September 29, 2018, documented in the present video recording, he programmed works touching on more than a century of Viennese musical traditions. Opening with Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 24, featuring soloist Lang Lang, a regular collaborator with the orchestra since 2000, it also includes works by Richard and Johann Strauss, concluding with Ravel’s cataclysmic La Valse. The Cleveland Orchestra was founded in 1918. Over the ensuing decades, the Orchestra quickly grew from a fine regional organization to being one of the most admired symphony orchestras in the world. Seven music directors have guided and shaped the ensemble’s growth and sound: Nikolai Sokoloff, Artur Rodzinski, Erich Leinsdorf, George Szell, Lorin Maazel, Christoph von Dohnányi, and Franz Welser-Möst. The opening in 1931 of Severance Hall as the Orchestra’s permanent home brought a special pride to the ensemble and its hometown, as well as providing an enviable and intimate acoustic environment in which to develop and refine the Orchestra’s artistry. Touring performances throughout the United States and, beginning in 1957, to Europe and across the globe have confirmed Cleveland’s place among the world’s top orchestras. For this anniversary concert, The Cleveland Orchestra will be joined by none less than world famous pianist Lang Lang. Heralded by the New York times as “the hottest artist on the classical music planet,” Lang Lang works with many of the best classical musicians of our time. He first appeared with The Cleveland Orchestra in 2000.
Korngold: Violanta / Janowski, Marton, Jerusalem, Berry
Violanta was Korngold’s second opera, composed after the comedy "Der Ring des Polycrates" when the composer was only 17 years old. It was given a double bill premiere with Der Ring in 1916 at the Munich Court Theatre under Bruno Walter, with Maria Jeritza in the title role.
The libretto, by Viennese playwright Hans Müller, has definite echoes of verismo. The opera is set during the Renaissance, in the Venetian Republic. Simone, military commander of the Republic is married to the beautiful Violanta, who has sworn revenge against Alfonso, Prince of the Republic. Violanta’s sister, Nerina, committed suicide after being seduced by Alfonso. Violanta’s plan is to lure Alfonso from the Carnival into her quarters, then have him killed by Simone, after being promised that his marital privileges will resume once Alfonso is dead. Once Alfonso is in Violanta’s quarters, she realizes that she’s in love with him as Alfonso is with her. She hesitates to give Simone, who is hiding, the signal to come out and kill him. Simone becomes impatient and comes out, finding the lovers in embrace. As Simone is about to strike Alfonso, Violanta gets in the way, receiving the blow and dying in Simone’s arms.
Here we have a marvellous example of how the young prodigy achieved his distinctive style at this early age. The usual description given to Korngold’s music, as made of elements of Richard Strauss and Giacomo Puccini, while being for the most part only a useful pointer, applies here perfectly. However, as with all generalizations, it does not give the whole story. Yes, the combination of rich orchestration and beautiful melodies is there; but listen, for example, to the Vorspiel where the very first mysterious chord is played in arpeggio by pretty much the whole orchestra, which then transforms into the main motif, played in tutti: Pure and unmistakable Korngold.
There are other wonderful moments in the opera, including the duet between Violanta and Alfonso; a Tristan-esque affair that, in my humble opinion, has a sense of forward movement that the Bayreuth master only achieved in "Die Meistersinger".
Let’s now talk about this recording. It is, to my knowledge, the only recording of this opera. The Munich Radio Symphony Orchestra - the same one that recorded with Erich Leinsdorf the classic 1975 premiere recording of "Die Tote Stadt" - is, as in that recording, in wonderful form. The clarity and power of the brass, the richness of tone of the strings and the clarity of the woodwinds put it in the same class as the best in the world.
Marek Janowski’s pacing of the score is very appropriate. It doesn’t feel rushed at all, letting the inner drive of the music provide the impetus. This is something that I feel is critical to let Korngold’s music shine; Erich Leinsdorf in his Tote Stadt feels at times rushed. Listen instead to the Leif Segerstam recording of the same opera on Naxos; while there are many controversial points with his interpretation, his pacing sounds ideal. Janowski seems to agree in his approach to Violanta.
Walter Berry, in this recording is beginning to show a bit of strain, but, for the most part, his voice is a rich as ever. On the other hand, Eva Marton in the title role is at the height of her powers, handling the difficult role with aplomb. Siegfried Jerusalem, although an acquired taste for many, as Alfonso, has the right qualities for a role that is not very dissimilar to that of Siegmund in vocal requirements.
The recorded sound is excellent, spacious, with great balance between the singers and orchestra. This is a 1980 analogue recording; by then, the art of recording by analogue means had reached a pinnacle. It can be said that by then it was perfected. Along with this release, other releases of the late 1970s, early 1980s era, like Solti’s "Hansel und Gretel" and parts of his Mahler cycle, show how far the technology had progressed. The SPARS code for this release is ADD, indicating that re-mastering took place, although no information about it is provided.
A libretto in the original German is included, along with translations to English and French. The very useful and informative notes include a short biography of Korngold, a history and description of the opera and analytic commentary, all written by Christopher Palmer. The introduction is written by none other than Karl Böhm, reminiscing about hearing the opera for the first time and his experiences while coming in contact with the Korngolds. An introduction by Vienna State Opera executive producer Marcel Prawy is also provided.
In conclusion, a great recording of a great opera that is well worth tracking down. This is a must not only for Korngold fans, but to admirers of late-romantic German opera. By virtue of being the only recording, it is THE reference recording, but it’s hard to think that it could have trouble holding that place against possible new recordings. Still, record companies, please keep them coming!
-- Victor Martell, MusicWeb International
