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Early Romantic Piano Quartets by Hummel, Ries & Schubert
$12.99CDBrilliant Classics
Jan 30, 2026BRI97705 -
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Sgambati: 6 Nocturnes, Etudes & Other Works
Suddeutsche Orgelmeister / Kelemen
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DETAILED TRACKLIST:
CD 1
Johann Caspar Kerll (1627–1693)
[01] Toccata prima . . . . . . . 03:24
[02] Canzone prima . . . . . . . 02:09
[03] Toccata ottava . . . . . . . 03:34
[04] Ciaccona . . . . . . . 02:22
[05] Canzone sesta . . . . . . . 02:37
[06] Toccata quarta Cromatica con durezze, e ligature . . . . . . . 04:41
[07] Capriccio sopra’ il cucu . . . . . . . 02:24
[08] Canzone quarta . . . . . . . 01:55
[09] Toccata quinta . . . . . . . 03:14
[10] Canzone terza . . . . . . . 03:11
[11] Toccata sesta per il pedale . . . . . . . 02:48
[12] Ricercata . . . . . . . 03:07
[13] Canzone seconda . . . . . . . 02:29
[14] Toccata terza . . . . . . . 04:33
[15] Canzone quinta . . . . . . . 02:26
[16] Toccata settima . . . . . . . 03:08
[17] Battaglia . . . . . . . 04:59
[18] Toccata seconda . . . . . . . 03:27
[19] Passacaglia . . . . . . . 06:12
total 64:12
Egedacher Orgel (1708)
Prämonstratenserstift Schlägl (A)
CD 2
Georg Muffat (1653–1704)
[01] Toccata prima . . . . . . . 06:00
[02] Toccata secunda . . . . . . . 05:57
[03] Toccata tertia . . . . . . . 05:49
[04] Toccata quarta . . . . . . . 07:11
[05] Toccata quinta . . . . . . . 05:57
[06] Toccata sexta . . . . . . . 09:22
[07] Toccata septima . . . . . . . 09:51
[08] Toccata octava . . . . . . . 06:32
[09] Toccata nona . . . . . . . 06:56
total 64:29
CD 3
Georg Muffat (1653–1704)
[01] Toccata decima . . . . . . . 06:00
[02] Toccata undecima . . . . . . . 06:39
[03] Toccata Toccata duodecima
et ultima . . . . . . . 07:25
[04] Ciacona . . . . . . . 06:18
[05] Passacaglia . . . . . . . 13:49
[06] Nova Cyclopeias Harmonica . . . . . . . 11:57
total 52:40
Freundt-Orgel 1642 Stiftskirche Klosterneuburg (A)
CD 2: [01], [03], [05], [06], [08]
CD 3: [03], [04], [06]
L’orgue Silbermann 1732 d’Ebersmunster (F)
CD 2: [02], [04], [07], [09]
CD 3: [01], [02], [05]
CD 4
Johann Pachelbel (1653 –1706)
[01] Praeludium d Minor . . . . . . . 05:34
[02] Wir glauben all an einen Gott . . . . . . . 04:04
[03] Ciacona f Minor (transponiert nach d-Moll) . . . . . . . 07:03
[04]–[9] Magnificat octavi toni . . . . . . . 05:26
[10] Ricercar C Major . . . . . . . 03:45
[11] Toccata C Major . . . . . . . 02:09
[12] Ricercar c Minor . . . . . . . 05:42
[13] Fuga d Minor . . . . . . . 03:02
[14] Toccata c Minor . . . . . . . 02:59
[15] Fuga C Major . . . . . . . :22
[16]–[25] Was Gott tut, das ist wohlgetan . . . . . . . 02:22
[26] Herr Christ, der einig Gotts Sohn . . . . . . . 03:46
[27] Nun lob mein Seel den Herren . . . . . . . 02:13
[28] Vom Himmel hoch da komm ich her (transoponiert nach C-Dur) . . . . . . . 01:22
[28]–[35] Aria tertia . . . . . . . 07:01
[36] Jesus Christus, unser Heiland, der von uns den Gotteszorn wandt . . . . . . . 03:04
[37] Wie schön leuchtet der Morgenstern . . . . . . . 02:49
[38] Toccata C major . . . . . . . 01 : 49
total 75:08
[01]–[10] / [26]–[38] Stertzing-Orgel 1702, St. Petri, Erfurt-Büßleben (D)
[11]–[25] Crapp-Orgel 1722, Klosterkirche, Pappenheim (D)
CD 5
Buxheimer Orgelbuch (ca. 1460)
[01] Glockenläuten, Glocke St. Andreaskirche Ostönnen, gegossen am 24. Juni 1306 . . . . . . . 00:44
[02] Redeuntes in idem (231) . . . . . . . . 03:35
[03] Wolhin laß vögelin sorgen (14) . . . 01:40
[04] Portigaler (43). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 03:42
[05] Vil lieber Zit uff diser Erde (51) . . . 02:20
[06] Kyriel(eyson) Angelicum – Christeleyson – Ultimum Kyriel(eyson) (153–155) . 01:43
[07] Praembulum Super C (232a) . . . . . 01:52
[08] Praembulum Super Mi (233a) . . . . 01:37
[09] Redeuntes in mi (232d) . . . . . . . . . 02:09
[10] Allegalea (185) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 02:07
[11] Praembulum Super D (232c) . . . . . 02:17
[12] Gaudeamus (omnes in Domino) (35). . . . . . . . . 04:41
[13] Ellend du hast umbfangen mich (48) . . . . . . . . . . . 03:42
[14] Sequitur adhuc semel Ellend und Jamer (49) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 03:28
[15] Redeuntes in idem (231) . . . . . . . 03:23
[16] Ein fröuwlin edel von natueren (19) . . . . . . . 03:10
[17] Veni virgo (76) . . . . . . . 01:54
[18] Salve Radix Josophanie (250) . . . . . . . 01:19
[19] Se la phase pale (255) . . . . . . . 02:06
[20] Redeuntes in d (232b) . . . . . . . 02:02
[21] Descendi in ortum meum (161) . . . . . . . :32
[22] Rorate celi desuper et nubes pl(uant iustum) (36) . . . . . . . 03:45
[23] Jeloy mors (18) . . . . . . . :18
[24] Redeuntes in La (234) . . . . . . . 01:09
[25] Anna vasanna (92) . . . . . . . 02:35
[26] Kyrieleyson de S(ancta) Maria V(irgine) – Christeleyson – Kyrieleyson Ultimum (150) . . . . . . . 02:23
[27] Ave Regina (258) . . . . . . . 02:57
total 64:12
Anonymus-Orgel ca. 1425, St. Andreaskirche, Soest-Ostönnen (D)
Ebert-Orgel 1558, Hofkirche Innsbruck (A)
CD 6
Hans Leo Hassler (1564–1612)
[01] Introitus IV. toni. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14:20
[02] Canzon in C. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 02:15
[03] Kein grösser frewdt. a. 8. voc: (transponiert nach g-Moll). . . . . . . . 04:14
Orgelmesse
[04] Kyrie Apostolorum. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 02:07
[05] Kyrie Secondo. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 03:44
[06] Christe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 01:31
[07] Kyrie. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 02:42
[08] Et in terra pax. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 03:18
[09] Domine Deus. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 02:25
[10] Cum Sancto Spiritu. . . . . . . . . . . . . 04:41
[11] Ach Gott von Himel sieh darein. . . 03:38
[12] Credo in unum Deum. . . . . . . . . . . 04:13
[13] Introitus in d. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 03:07
[14] Ricercar in e. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 06:39
[15] Canzon in C. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 03:27
[16] Ach weh der schweren pein. . . . . . . 03:09
[17] 2. Theil: Und weicht von mir gar ferr. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 03:46
[18] Ricercar del secondo tono. . . . . . . . . 10:30
total 79:51
[01]–[12] Freundt-Orgel 1642 Stiftskirche Klosterneuburg (A)
[13]–[18] Günzer-Orgel 1609 St. Martin, Gabelbach (D)
Cornelius: Der Barbier von Bagdad / Leitner, West German Radio Symphony
The young and rich Nureddin is deeply in love with Margiana, the daughter of the Cadi. His childhood friend, Bostana, arranges a meeting and Nureddin sends for Abul Hassan Ali Ebn Bekar, the best barber in town, to make him presentable. The barber is more interested in talking about his knowledge of art and science and Nureddin asks his servants to throw him out. The Barber turns furious and chases the servants, knife in hand, but some tactical flatteries makes him calm down and do his job. When Nureddin tells him about his approaching meeting, the barber gets so excited that he offers to accompany Nureddin. In the second act the two lovers meet but are disturbed by the sudden return of the Cadi. Nureddin hides and when the barber hears cries from a slave being punished he believes it is Nureddin and rushes into the house. Believing Nureddin to have been murdered he sends for the Caliph, who arrives. Nureddin is found and pressurised by the Caliph. The Cadi accepts that the young couple should be married. The verbose barber makes such an impression on the Caliph that he is invited to work for him.
Not one of literature’s masterworks, maybe, but much thinner and more incomprehensible librettos have been successfully set to music. Cornelius’s opera was not a success at the premiere on 15 December 1858 at Hoftheater in Weimar. The composer describes the disaster as follows:
‘My work had drawn a full house. The performance filled the evening and was excellent, splendid, considering the difficulties the work presents. Right from the start, the applause was accompanied by persistent hissing from a hired, well-organized and expediently distributed group that was unprecedented in the annals of Weimar … At the end there was a fight lasting ten minutes.’
The reason for the debacle was decidedly not the quality of the music or the play. This was a protest against the conductor of the evening, Franz Liszt, whose radical ideas were not to everybody’s liking – and it was successful. The production was taken off the repertoire and Liszt resigned and left Weimar for good. But the one who suffered the most was Cornelius, who never saw his opera staged again during his lifetime. It was revived about twenty years later, again with no success. In 1884 in Karlsruhe, Felix Mottl – who orchestrated Wagner’s Wesendonck-Lieder – presented it, but in truncated and altered form. It was not until 1904 that it was staged in its original shape. After that it was regarded as one of the best German comic operas – next to Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg according to some judges.
I hadn’t heard the opera before, although there exist two studio recordings. Columbia set it down in London in 1956 with Erich Leinsdorf conducting and a starry cast including Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, Nicolai Gedda, Hermann Prey and with Oskar Czerwenka as the barber. In the early 1970s Heinrich Hollreiser recorded it with Sylvia Geszty, Adalbert Kraus, Bernd Weikl and with Karl Ridderbusch as the barber. There also seems to have been an even older, Vienna-based recording, from 1952.
What I knew from as far back as the early 1960s was the overture, which appeared now and then in recordings and on concerts. I remembered it as something quite different from the usual potpourri of melodies from the subsequent opera. This piece, with a playing time of over seven minutes, is symphonically constructed – a kind of symphonic poem in fact. It is artfully orchestrated with a lot of woodwind solos and an orchestral texture that is transparent and airy - more Mozartean than Wagnerian. What is more: the whole opera is permeated by this artfulness with impressive ensembles and powerful but still translucent choruses with some contrapuntal writing. On top of all this there is an atmospheric entr’acte opening act two, thematically built on the muezzin’s proclamation of prayer. It is the only music in the score with an oriental touch.
The proceedings are dominated by Nureddin and Abul Hassan Ali Ebn Bekar, the barber. Both singers are excellent. Horst R. Laubenthal, then at the beginning of a great international career – was born in 1939 and made his debut in 1967. He has a mellifluous lyric tenor, ideally suited to Mozart and the lyric German tenor roles. He is also a vivid actor. The fine love duet in act two is one of the high-spots in the opera. There he is especially winning, partnered by Helen Donath, who here manages to soften her voice a little – elsewhere she can be irritatingly acidulous. There is nothing sour about Hans Sotin’s impressive barber, however. This must be a dream role for a fruity bass and Sotin revels in the opportunities to make a show. His is a large, sonorous, warm and evenly produced voice of exceptional beauty. The very lowest notes – and he is required to sing quite a few of them – are somewhat sketchy but otherwise he is admirable. He produces ringing top notes that many a baritone should envy.
The rest of the cast are more or less comprimarios, but the young Dale Duesing – he was only 26 at the time – is a fine Caliph. Veteran Fritz Peter is a Cadi full of character and Marga Schiml – also still in her twenties – does what she can with Bostana’s role. The versatile Ferdinand Leitner, who had a special affinity with Mozart, obviously enjoys the score. He is well supported by the Cologne Radio forces. The male chorus has a field day in the riveting Hinaus aus Hof und Haus (CD 1 tr. 7), where they are ordered to throw the cackling barber out of the house.
The sound is what is to be expected from a 35-year-old radio recording: not very spectacular but well balanced. I wouldn’t have minded some more cue-points and a libretto should have been included. Not many listeners will be familiar with the work and the brief synopsis is no substitute.
Whether Der Barbier von Bagdad will ever be a standard work again is hard to prophesy – this kind of story has probably lost its attraction to latter-day generations. It is nevertheless rather amusing and the music definitely deserves a better fate than oblivion.
-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International
WYNONA WANG IN RECITAL
Strauss, Liszt, Korngold, Busoni & Schreker: Orchestral Work
Schubert/Liszt: Wanderer Fantasy; Tchaikovsky: Concert Fanta
LISZT: LEGENDS OF THE SAINTS VOL.1
Simeon Ten Holt: Solo Piano Music Vol 1-5 / Jeroen Van Veen
TEN HOLT Canto Ostinato. Natalon in E . Aforisme II. Solo Devil’s Dances I–IV. Eadem Sed Aliter • Jeroen van Veen (pn) • BRILLIANT 9434 (5 CDs: 320:09)
This set is designated as Simeon ten Holt: Solo Piano Music Volumes I-V , so one assumes that another release will follow it in due course. This is good news to those of us who have been bitten by the ten Holt bug, and who are snapping up every release that becomes available. In the United States, the situation is now much better than it was just a few years ago, and it is better, in large part, due to the efforts of pianist Jeroen van Veen (and Brilliant Classics), who, with colleague pianists, and by himself, has been busily recording ten Holt’s often mammoth works for one or multiple pianos. He is not the only world-class pianist to be interested in ten Holt’s music, however, but we will get to that point later.
In Fanfare 35:6, I had a lot to say about Canto Ostinato , albeit in a performance by two pianists, namely van Veen and his wife, Sandra. This was included in van Veen’s Minimal Piano Collection, Volumes X-XX set (Brilliant Classics 9171). I’m going to beg the editor’s indulgence by repeating all of it here:
Simeon ten Holt’s Canto Ostinato , [is] an even more large-scale classic that occupied the composer between 1976 and 1979, and a work that has attained a fair measure of popularity, at least in Europe. (I think its time will come in the United States; all it needs is the right set of circumstances.) Like several of ten Holt’s works, Canto Ostinato gives its performers plenty of flexibility. The score states the composer’s preference for performances with four pianos, but he has enthusiastically endorsed Jeroen and Sandra van Veen’s two-piano realization presented here, and it also has been performed with twelve pianists on five pianos! (Other keyboard instruments are possible too.) The score has 106 sections. Performers can use their own discretion concerning dynamics, articulation, the number of repetitions, and the use and combination of alternative parts. It can last for a half hour or longer than two. The composer writes, “A performance of Canto is more like a ritual than a concert. The piece is not in a hurry.” For me, three factors lend the work its peculiar magic. The first is related to rhythm. Each bar is in 10/16 time, overlaid with 2/4 to create two groups of 5/16. Each “quintuplet” is subdivided into 2+3 or 3+2. What this creates, in the listener, is the curiously dance-like sensation of even unevenness, if you will. The second factor is melodic. At first, there is no melody, in the usual sense of the word. However, over time, an angelic “canto” starts to coalesce, like a picture puzzle slowly coming together. When this “canto,” after many teasing minutes of development, reaches its maturity, the cumulative effect, if you have been paying attention, is literally awesome. (I never fail to weep when I get to section 74 of Canto Ostinato , and I have had a similar experience with Meandres , a ten Holt composition from 20 years later.) Having attained seeming Nirvana, ten Holt (or the performers), then evolves away from it almost immediately, and so Canto Ostinato , on this level, becomes a piece about expectation, and not just achievement but also frustration. It’s a very Zen experience. The third factor is related to community. A successful performance of Canto Ostinato depends upon communication and coordination among the performers. One senses (in the present performance, and in others I have heard) that a sort of hive mentality is at work, or that one is listening, not just to a ritual, but to a biological process. Much as I love music, I would rarely describe it as organic. For me, there are two prominent exceptions, though: some of Sibelius, and all of Simeon ten Holt.
Of course, the present recording, which dates from the fall of 2012 (like everything else in this collection), removes the third factor enumerated above because all of these are solo performances. I think I understand ten Holt’s preference for performances, at least of Canto Ostinato , involving multiple pianos. Played solo, the music remains highly effective, but the ineffable and moving sense of community is absent here. Otherwise, it is striking how similar this new solo recording of Canto is to the one by van Veen and his wife in the Minimal Piano Collection set. The total timing (78:15) is just a minute shorter than its predecessor, and isn’t it convenient that it all fits on one CD? (A four-piano version recorded in the ’80s and released by Composer’s Voice/Donemus lasts over 150 minutes and requires three discs, and let me tell you, those disc-changes are a real letdown!) There’s no sense that the music’s development is being rushed, but I think, generally speaking, the more performers one has, the longer it takes to perform it effectively. In a review of piano music by Philip Glass (also in this issue), I commented that van Veen was a more subjective performer than the composer himself. In ten Holt’s music, however, I find that van Veen is less personal—which I suppose is another way of saying less romantic—than other pianists who have recorded it, namely Ivo Janssen (on Void), and on the aforementioned three-CD extravaganza, Gerard Bouwhuis, Gene Carl, Cees van Zeeland, and Arielle Vernède. Still, I have every reason to believe that van Veen’s playing realizes the composer’s intentions completely.
So, where this new release really comes into its own is in the remaining four discs, because this is great music too, and there is less competition. (In some cases, I think, there is none at all, at least on disc.) Solo Devil’s Dance I was composed in 1959 and lasts only 4:10. The remaining three works in this series are much later (1986, 1990, and 1998, respectively) and much longer too: 67:43, 45:55, and 38:41. The first is an etude whose basis is an essentially unrelenting triple rhythm passed from one hand to the other, with a—well, impish counterpoint. No surprise: It sounds utterly unlike anything else on these discs, but one can sense the presence of ten Holt’s mind, even if one can’t exactly hear ten Holt’s voice. With the second, we are back in familiar, i.e., minimalist, territory. An odd, nervous rhythm and a melodic pattern are quickly established, and over the course of 67 minutes it is developed. With Philip Glass, one senses that his favorite geometric shape is a square. Ten Holt, on the other hand, probably was enamored of pentagons and heptagons. Solo Devil’s Dance II is jazzy, without ever turning into jazz, and eternally unsettled. As in Canto , tension rises, is dissipated, and rises again; Glass is rarely this dramatic. It sounds like a terrible finger-buster for any pianist, but I imagine stamina and concentration are even bigger issues. Fortunately, listeners don’t have to fear for the fingers. If they are receptive, their concentration should be stimulated by the ever changing but always the same landscape of shifting accents, phrase lengths, and by each new section of the score (there are 111!) in which a new puzzle piece, or a new clue (if you will) is added. Kees Wieringa’s version of this work can be downloaded as an mp3 from Amazon. I haven’t heard more than an excerpt—I have yet to feel that downloaded mp3s are worth my time and money, so any comparisons I make with mp3s in this review are based solely on brief excerpts—but for what it’s worth, Wieringa’s version is only 28 seconds longer. Ivo Janssen’s mp3 is only half as long, and is a little slower.
Solo Devil’s Dance III is built on similar plans, but it strikes me as a more genial piece. If its predecessor is obsessive, it is cheerfully industrious, as if one were overlooking a sort of musical factory in which the workers are notes and their products are phrases and successively larger musical structures. The music burbles along happily, and it really does seem to dance. One wonders if the melodic material’s resemblance, at times, to Till’s theme from Till Eulenspiegels lustige Streiche was accidental. Otherwise, there is nothing demonic here! In fact, extended sections in the piano’s stratosphere suggest fairies, perhaps from A Midsummer Night’s Dream , more than anything horned. Wieringa’s mp3 is almost 20 minutes shorter, as he moves through the work’s 77 (!) sections!
What makes the Solo Devil’s Dances demonic, perhaps, is the demands that they place on the performer. (Van Veen is certainly up to their various challenges.) An additional demonic element that appears in Solo Devil’s Dance IV is a fixation with the interval of a tritone, the “diabolus in musica.” This piece is a particularly cruel task for the pianist, as it is fast, lengthy, and more intricate in its patterning than its predecessors. If Solo Devil’s Dance II is obsessive, this last member of the family carries obsession to its most driven extremes. It’s an etude from hell. At 18: 14, Ivo Janssen’s mp3 of this work is only half the length of van Veen’s performance, and he adopts a somewhat slower tempo, so clearly he takes fewer repeats than van Veen. (As I mentioned above, in my description of Canto , ten Holt’s scores generally give performers a lot of latitude.) This work contains 89 “separate musical objects,” which I suppose is just another way of indicating “sections.” This was ten Holt’s final work, although he did not die until 2012.
Earlier, I used the phrase, “ever changing but always the same.” That is a rough English translation of the Latin phrase Eadem Sed Aliter , the title of a work in 113 sections from 1995 also included in this collection. To quote from the booklet note (van Veen’s?), “the left hand is shifted two sixteenths from the right hand—this creates a big challenge for the thumbs of both hands, like in the music of Franz Liszt where the thumbs were first used to play melodies. The ping-pong-style playing with accents, together with building layers (getting louder and softer), turn this into an interesting piece.” The music has a plaintive quality, as if it were begging to be released from its unceasing activity and lack of resolution (harmonic and otherwise). As with the other works in this collection, I can’t even begin to imagine the endurance and concentration required to perform it, and van Veen has both my admiration and my sympathy! An mp3 by Janssen is a few minutes shorter (33: 49), and in this work, his tempo is even faster than van Veen’s. Madness!
The two remaining works date from the 1970s. Aforisme II (1974) is receiving its first recording here. It is, in a sense, the seed that produced Canto Ostinato , as it is a 6/8 version of the Canto melody, with an accompaniment of broken chords (imagine a barcarolle.) The Chopinesque bit of sweetness is just four minutes long, and, if a score were to be published, I predict it would quickly appear on every third teenage piano student’s recital. Natalon in E also is atypical. There are five movements in contrasting tempos and moods, and ranging from four to 11 minutes in length. The material in each movement is characteristic of ten Holt, but its development is far more concise. Like Aforisme II , this is ten Holt “lite,” although I don’t mean to denigrate it with that adjective, only to imply that it is more accessible to performers and listeners who might not generally be interested in Minimalism or “contemporary music,” whatever that is.
The booklet contains, in addition to unsigned notes about some (not all, unfortunately) of the works, a short essay about the composer himself, and about van Veen as an interpreter of his music. This originally appeared in Fanfare 33:5 and is written by Alan Swanson, who took advantage of the opportunity to bang the drum for ten Holt before I did. I’m glad he did. Since I discovered it a few years ago, Simeon ten Holt’s music has become important to me; it has given me great intellectual and emotional satisfaction. I am very happy that Jeroen van Veen’s advocacy, not least through these recordings, has made it easier for new audiences to become exposed to it. Please, however you do it, introduce yourself to Simeon ten Holt.
FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle
Belcke, Eckhold, Liszt & Reger: Orgelpunkt - Glocke Bremen, Vol. 2
Right Through The Bone - Rontgen / Arc Ensemble
If you are puzzled, as I was, by the title of this CD then there is a logical explanation which is given at the beginning of the booklet notes. It was Julius’s cousin Conrad Röntgen (1845-1923) who discovered X-Rays, who won the Nobel Prize in 1901 and who ultimately transformed medical science. Knowledge of Conrad however led Grieg to say, after hearing a piece by Julius, that the music “went right to the bone”, hence the CD title. Although it seems to be just a clever remark it has more than a ray of truth!
The music of Julius Röntgen is just beginning to be noticed again after years of lying forgotten on dusty shelves. “Oh no,” you say, “Not another mediocre worthy dug out by musicians with nothing else to do.” Well if you think that then read on - indeed listen on - because I can tell you that this is very fine music indeed. The revival which is just beginning is worth every penny and every column inch spent on it. So let’s forget that this music was written when Bartók, Schoenberg and Ives were at their heights and take it with an innocent ear just as it comes. Indeed it may be more helpful to remember that Röntgen is almost an exact contemporary of Elgar.
A few words of biography first. In 1924 Röntgen retired from public life to concentrate on composing. Although already quite prolific, many more works started to flow from him. He had studied in Leipzig, meeting Liszt and Franz Lachner, Carl Reinecke and Heinrich von Herzogenberg, but he made the surprising decision to live and work in Amsterdam. There, amongst other activities, he was one of the founders of the Concertgebouw and even more significantly he was instrumental in establishing the Amsterdam Conservatoire. He worked there not as a Director but as an accompanist and so he had time to compose. He also had influence as Director of an organization with the snappy title ‘The Society for the Promotion of Musical Arts’ which meant at that time much new music.
You may fear that Brahms might have been a strong influence. Röntgen was the soloist in the first Dutch performance in 1884 of the master’s 2nd Piano Concerto under Brahms’s direction. After that Röntgen saw Brahms socially as it were for many years. Also Röntgen liked to work on quite large canvases, yet he is no clone of Brahms indeed there is much originality here. The ghostly and eerie second movement of the Viola Sonata’s outer section is like nothing else I can describe, and the finale has an occasional touch of Debussy about it. The initial impassioned Allegro has an opening idea which has remained with me for some days. The excellent booklet notes by Simon Wynberg mentions César Franck as an influence.
The CD begins with a fine and arresting work: the Quintet for piano and strings. In its opening movement there is a restless and memorable idea, sextuplets or quadruplets in the piano and cello with the violins above singing a lovely melody canonically in the minor key. The melting sequences also give the music an unforgettable character. The compound time second movement, marked Allegro, is rhythmically memorable with a wonderful passage towards the end over an ostinato pedal building to the final bars. The slow movement is questing and exploratory at first until a cello melody answered by violin takes over with a melody which Borodin would have been proud of. At the end of the contrapuntal and at times fugal Con moto finale Röntgen quotes briefly his first movement opening and ends the piece in a questing atmosphere.
The Clarinet Trio falls into three movements with an especially sunny initial movement. Brahms did come to my mind during this piece but none the worse for that. The main weight of the work rests on the finale with its memorable ‘Sostenuto’ opening suddenly transforming into a friendly Allegro commodo. It is the earliest work (1921) here and has the occasional Mendelssohnian touch in its lightness and sophistication.
The String Sextet really has little in common with the two by Brahms although it is in a late-Romantic style. The first movement may remind one more of Max Reger; the booklet writer mentions Max Bruch. With the grace and ease of the second movement Andante we step gently into the world of Dvo?ák, except that the middle section is unexpectedly storm-tossed before subsiding again. Curiously it’s followed by another Andante which is a set of variations and then an Allegro of great vigour, especially for the cellos.
The performances are wonderfully warm, committed and utterly convincing. These are young performers who, one assumes, have not come across Röntgen before. The booklet pictures them and gives some biographical details. I remember reading a sensational review of their debut in New York in 2003. This is, in my view, top quality musicianship and even if the music was not that interesting I would still be praising the music-making. The recording only serves to enhance all that they achieve.
This then is a fascinating disc and I urge you to look into it. From there you might join me in a search for more music by this, as yet, little known but true master of the early twentieth century.
-- Gary Higginson, MusicWeb International
Mosonyi: Piano Works Vol 1 / István Kassai
-- David Johnson, FANFARE [Want List, 1994]
Known in this country only from a recording of his piano concerto issued on a Candide LP two dozen years ago (it has since been transferred to CD), Mihály Mosonyi (1815-70) has never been entirely neglected by his fellow Hungarians. The annotator of these two Marco Polo discs, Dezö Legány, calls him “the third most important Hungarian composer of the nineteenth century,“ which may seem to be damning him with faint praise, except that one of the two more important of his countrymen was Franz Liszt. (The other, Ferenc Erkel, also has had a hard time establishing a major reputation outside the confines of Hungary, largely because his specialty was opera in the Magyar tongue, which doesn't travel well.) Mosonyi's posthumous reputation, such as it is, has been sustained by the many flattering things that Liszt said about him, both publicly and in letters to friends. Legány fails to pursue the Liszt connection in his sober, helpful, but heavily musicological notes. The annotator of the old Candide disc did a better job of quoting Liszt on Mosonyi. Among that flamboyant master's comments is this one: “The death of Mosonyi puts our hearts in mourning. It makes us sorrow also for the music of Hungary, of which Mosonyi was one of the noblest, most valiant and praiseworthy representatives.“ Praise came rather too cheaply for Liszt, but he followed it with the sincerest form of flattery, a noble piano elegy (“Mosonyi's Grablied“) in memory of his confrère, who had died too soon at the age of fifty-five. Two years before Mosonyi's death, Liszt had honored him with a transcription from one of his operas (he wrote two). After listening to these two albums—especially the one featuring solo piano music, which I am happy to note is styled “Volume 1“—I think hat Liszt was, indeed, on to a very good thing.
Mosonyi's name at birth, and for all but the last twelve years of his life, was Michael Brand (“Brandt“ according to Baker's Dictionary). It was only in 1858 that he Magyarized his first name and derived a new last name from Moson, the county in which he was born. With his new name he took on a new musical personality. His music had been heavily indebted to the Vienna Classicists (he spent some years as a private tutor in that city). After 1858 it took on a strongly Hungarian accent and at the same time acquired a slimmed-down, direct manner, shorn of much Romantic baggage—a manner that appeals to twentieth-century ears. Both the Brand and the Mosonyi aspects of this little-known composer are in evidence on these discs, the former on the orchestral one, the latter on the one devoted to his solo piano music.
Hungarian Children's World is not designed for children, unless their technique is fully developed. Though this set of twelve genre pieces is not in the virtuoso category, the technical demands call for a pianist of professional capability. The individual numbers vary from forty-eight seconds to five minutes and fifty seconds in length. Each has a programmatic title. “The Little Gypsy Girl“ is a three-tempo czárdás (Adagio-Allegro-Andante) “Lullaby“ ends on an unresolved suspension. “The Little Piper,“ with its elaborate melismas, seems more suitable to a cimbalom than a piano. “Children's Song“ is pure Robert Schumann at first, but launches startlingly into the verbunkos manner in its midsection. “The Story Man“ has several stories to tell: the piece shifts five times between Maestoso and Allegretto, each time bringing in a different set of themes. The last number, “Búcsú“ in Hungarian, is translated a “Kirchweih“ (“Church Ceremony“) in German, and a “Farewell Festival“ in English; whatever “Búcsú“ means, it makes a satisfactorily lively finale to a very attractive set of Kinderszenen.
Studies for Piano, for Development in the Performance of Hungarian Music is the wordy title of the second set of piano works on the disc. These are genuine progressive studies, starting with the simplest exercises and eventually reaching considerable technical complexity. Bartók followed the same procedure in his far more ambitious Mikrokosmos, which may well have borrowed some of its procedures from Mosonyi's set. (Bartók published several letters of Liszt to Mosonyi in the Musical Quarterly in 1921; he was well aware of the work of both men.) There are twenty pieces in this collection. They have less overt programs than the Hungarian Children's World, mostly settling for an adjective to establish mood, followed by the tempo (“Sadly: Adagio,“ “Joyfully: Vivace“). The Hungarian accent is more persistent here, discernible, often subtly, in all twenty pieces. (No. 25 piques my curiosity. It is called “In the style of Károly Fátyol,“ whose dates— obviously added by an editor, since he died after Mosonyi—are given as “1830-1888.“ I suspect he may have been a Gypsy musician. Can any of the readership enlighten me?)
As in Mikrokosmos, the early numbers, intended for beginners, tend to bore grown-ups (and children, too, for that matter). As more demands are placed upon the executant (from around No. 8 on) the listener's ear begins to prick up, and by the end of the series one is genuinely impressed by the melodic distinction, the clean, almost Poulenic-ish line, and the surprisingly modern approach of these pieces. There is not a trace of Romantic sensibility or bloat in them. Virtuosity for its own sake is eschewed throughout, in favor of a deep Hungarian expressivity. But Mosonyi know how to ignite the fireworks when he want to—as in No. 16, where the fingers fly in true Lisztian manner, and in the concluding study, a splendid and subtle Hungarian Rhapsody. Piano teachers, even if they are not Hungarian, would do well to introduce this toothsome set of études to their pupils.
István Kassai, thirty-five years of age, won first prize in the International Debussy Piano Competition around a decade ago. He plays Mosonyi like the aristocrat of the keyboard he obviously is. Engineer Endre Radany achieve a vividly lifelike reproduction of Kassai's touch and tone.
-- David Johnson, FANFARE [11/1994]
Lotti, Zelenka, Bach / Hengelbrock, Balthasar Neumann Ensemble
This trilogy is based loosely on the Dresden connections between the Venetian Antonio Lotti, Bohemian Jan Dismas Zelenka and Thuringian Johann Sebastian Bach. Zelenka’s unconventional Miserere in C minor (Easter 1738) is a peculiar mixture of archaic music based on a ricercar by Frescobaldi and modern proto-classical movements. Hengelbrock leaps without reticence into the agitated music that opens and dramatically concludes the work (in comparison, Fiori Musicali’s performance seems coolly refined – Metronome, 3/08). The Balthasar-Neumann Ensemble and Choir perform with full-blooded tension; Hengelbrock makes the fullest possible use of the plangent oboes and pulsating string chords but also ensures that the music-making never loses its focused precision. The abrupt conclusion leads cleverly into the sinfonia of Bach’s Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen, Zagen. The famous chaconne chorus that conveys weeping is tenderly phrased; solo voices are used for the first entries only and are soon joined by the full complement of 18 singers. This is by no means unpleasant but the sudden change of gears from streamlined intimacy to a larger choral texture feels odd (curiously, Hengelbrock eschews the policy in an entirely “choral” recapitulation).
The crowning glory is Lotti’s Missa a tre cori. As Hengelbrock has proved before with his outstanding recordings of Lotti’s Requiem (9/99) and Missa Sapientiae (3/04), the Venetian master’s chiaroscuro writing is certainly not run-of-the-mill. The contrapuntal first phrases of the “Kyrie” possess extraordinary expressive quality and accomplishment, whereas the first section of the “Gloria” is an irresistible, dance-like celebration with jaunty rhythms and bold trumpet. Lotti’s controlled and sublime setting of “Et in terra pax” reveals the harmonically adventurous talent and flair for unexpected effects that evidently fascinated Bach and Handel, and some surprising choral harmonies in the ardent “Qui tollis” lifted me from my chair in astonishment and admiration for both the composer and his modern-day interpreters. This is nothing short of revelatory.
– David Vickers, Gramophone
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Unearthing unknown masterworks, such as the Lotti and the Zelenka, is something of a speciality for Thomas Hengelbrock, and it is hard to imagine a more intense interpretation of the Miserere.
Bach, Zelenka and Lotti on one disc - that seems a little odd. Bach and Zelenka knew each other as they lived and worked not that far away from each other, in Leipzig and Dresden respectively. But what about Lotti?
Antonio Lotti made his career in Venice, but was born in Hanover where his father was Kapellmeister. In Venice he became a pupil of Legrenzi. He started out as an alto singer and organist in San Marco. In 1693 he wrote his first opera, and his growing reputation as an opera composer brought him the invitation to write an opera for Dresden. Here he lived and worked from 1717 to 1719. He wasn't only an opera composer, though. When he came to Dresden he took with him some religious works he had written in Venice, and in Dresden he composed some more.
Zelenka, who for many years worked in the court orchestra in Dresden as double-bass player, copied a number of works by Lotti. Among them was the Missa Sapientiae; a copy of this mass has also been found in Bach's library. It is quite possible that it was through Zelenka that Bach became acquainted with Lotti's oeuvre. Thomas Hengelbrock recorded Lotti's Missa Sapientiae in 2002, and it was released together with Bach's Magnificat by deutsche harmonia mundi.
But there are not only historical reasons bringing together these composers on one disc. There are also some stylistic similarities between the three compositions which Thomas Hengelbrock has recorded. The main feature they have in common is that they contain both traditional and modern elements. They link with the traditional stile antico in that they include polyphonic sections. And in all three pieces dissonances and chromaticism are used for expressive reasons linking with the sung words. At the same time they contain elements which reflect contemporary fashion.
Zelenka's setting of the penitential Psalm 50 (51), 'Miserere mei Deus', is a perfect example of the mixture of old and new. It starts with an extended setting of the first verse of this psalm, which is dominated by chords in the strings in a very agitated rhythm, which are relentlessly repeated. The amount of dissonance in this section is quite unusual for the time. Next the text of the whole psalm is sung in a strict polyphonic style. It is based on an organ ricercar by Girolamo Frescobaldi, from his 'Fiori Musicali' of 1635. It is likely this was the main reason that this Miserere was received negatively. A diary of the time says: "Mr. Zelenka performed a Miserere of excessive length". It is probably not the actual time the performance took that caused this comment but rather its old-fashioned style. For a performance in the following year Zelenka added an aria for soprano which was written in modern galant style. This is the third movement, the first half of the doxology. This part is then set again for the tutti, and this is followed by the second half of the doxology. Then Zelenka returns to the opening verse. It is not a repetition of the first section, although elements from it are reused.
The Balthasar-Neumann-Choir and -Ensemble give good performances, in which the text expression comes off very well. It is disappointing, though, that the dense polyphonic texture of the second section results in the words being practically inaudible. More attention should have been given to a clear delivery of the text. Tanya Aspelmeier gives a good account of the solo part.
The cantata 'Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen, Zagen' is one of Bach's most famous cantatas. It inspired Franz Liszt to one of his best-known organ works. It seems Bach also liked it: he composed the cantata in 1714 in Weimar, and performed it again in 1724 in Leipzig. The mood of the work is best caught in the accompanied recitative, a quotation from the Bible (Acts of the Apostles): "We must pass through great sadness that we come into God's kingdom".
The cantata begins with an expressive sinfonia, marked 'adagio assai'. The opening chorus has a dacapo form, and the A section is a chaconne over a chromatic bass which is repeated twelve times. It is here that the tradition comes to the fore, as well as in the scoring with two independent viola parts. The B section doesn't contain independent instrumental parts: the instruments are supposed to play colla parte with the voices - another feature of the stile antico.
Much more in line with the fashion of the time is the inclusion of a dacapo aria, 'Kreuz und Kronen sind verbunden', scored for alto, with an obbligato part for the oboe. In the tenor aria 'Seid getrost', the slide trumpet plays the melody of the chorale 'Jesu, meine Freude'. The German Bach scholar Alfred Dürr suggests Bach could have had the last stanza in mind: "Begone, mournful spirits, for the master of my joys, Jesus, is now arriving".
The tutti parts receive good performances from the choir and the orchestra. None of Bach’s expressive devices passes unnoticed. The rhythm of the bass aria 'Ich folge Christo nach' is under-exposed, though. The contralto Marion Eckstein sings her part beautifully, and so does the tenor Julian Podger, although in his aria I would have liked stronger contrast between the A and B sections. The bass Marek Rzepka is a bit bland, and there is a slight tremolo in his voice which I have noticed in other recordings in which he participated. The obbligato parts are well executed by Emma Black (oboe) and Paolo Bacchin (slide trumpet).
Old and new elements are also present in Antonio Lotti's Missa a tre cori, written for three groups, as the title indicates. This mass belongs to the genre of the 'missa brevis', consisting of Kyrie and Gloria only. The stile antico is particularly present in the Kyrie and returns in some sections of the Gloria.
The first Kyrie is very reminiscent of the opening of Zelenka's Miserere, in particular harmonically. Even rhythmically there is some similarity, although Lotti's rhythms are less agitated. In the Christe eleison the name 'Christe' is singled out. The second Kyrie contrasts the descending line and an ascending figure on the words "eleison" in the upper voices.
The Gloria begins with a dancing movement in jubilant mood, in which the trumpet participates. The next section, 'Et in terra pax', takes more than five minutes and reverts to the same kind of chords in the strings and strong dissonances we heard in the first Kyrie. The 'Gratias agimus' also begins with great harmonic tension which is then released in the second half. In 'Qui tollis peccata mundi' Lotti again makes use of fiery chords and sharp dissonances.
The most modern sections are 'Domine Deus' and 'Qui sedes'. The former is a wonderful trio for soprano, violin and basso continuo. 'Qui sedes' is scored for alto and obbligato oboe, with the lower strings and basso continuo. In 'Quoniam tu solus sanctus' the trumpet returns. Through homophony and long notes the name 'Jesu Christe' is singled out. The mass ends with a fugal section on the text 'Cum Sancto Spiritu'.
This is probably the very first recording of this mass, and it is a beautiful and highly expressive work. It is easy to understand that Zelenka and Bach were interested in Lotti's music, and in particular Zelenka seems to have been influenced by Lotti. The qualities of Lotti's mass setting are fully explored by choir and orchestra, with excellent contributions of the vocal and instrumental soloists. Only Bernard Landauer is a little disappointing in 'Qui sedes'.
Unearthing unknown masterworks is something of a speciality for Thomas Hengelbrock. Both Lotti's Missa Sapientiae and the Missa a tre cori are masterpieces - evidence that Lotti's oeuvre is well worth further appraisal. Bach's cantata is available in a number of other recordings. The performance on this disc is good, but not the main reason to commend this CD.
It is both Lotti's mass and the Miserere by Zelenka which make this disc especially attractive. The Zelenka has been recorded before, and some time ago I reviewed a recording by Penelope Rapson. But Hengelbrock's interpretation is simply superior, and in fact it is hard to imagine a more intense interpretation of Zelenka's Miserere.
– Johan van Veen, MusicWeb International
Im Schönen Strome: Heine Lieder
Although highly productive and respected in his lifetime as a Lied composer, Robert Franz (1815–92) has since become a peripheral figure in music history. As they began to explore the songs of Franz, Georges Starobinski and baritone Christian Immler were moved by their findings to devise a program including twenty-three of the composer’s often quite brief songs. Using the poet Heinrich Heine as their guiding star, they present these – all Heine settings but from different opus groups – in the form of two ‘imagined’ song cycles, framed by further settings of Heine poems by Schumann and Liszt.
Cyprien Katsaris Archives, Vol. 8: Schubert
LISZT Hungarian Rhapsodies: Nos. 2, 3, 5, 7. Elegies: Nos. 1, 2. Liebestraum No. 3. Klavierstücke: Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Trauervorspiel und Trauermarsch. Unstern! Nuages gris. La Lugubre gondola Nos. 1, 2. R.W.—Venezia. Am Grabe Richard Wagners. Piano Sonata in b. Piano Concerto No. 2 1 • Cyprien Katsaris (pn); 1 Arild Remmereit (cond); 1 Deutches SO Berlin • PIANO 21 014-N (2 CDs: 137:51)
SCHUBERT Klavierstücke, D 946: Nos. 1, 2. Ländler, D 366: Nos. 1 (2 versions); 2–5, 10, 13. Ländler, D 790: Nos. 3, 4, 7, 8, 11. Deutsche Tänze, D 420: Nos. 1, 3, 4. Piano Sonata in B?, D 960. SCHUBERT-LISZT Ständchen. Der Müller und der Bach. Ave Maria & • Cyprien Katsaris (pn) • PIANO 21 P21 042A (2 CDs: 103:27) Live: 7/3/93
& KATSARIS Improvisation on Themes of Tchaikovsky and Wagner. BACH Concerto in d, BWV 974: Adagio
“When I heard that recording, I was afraid to play the piece again—I will not play it again”: That’s how the mature Cyprien Katsaris, in an interview with me last year, described his reaction on rehearing this scorching live performance of the Liszt Sonata, taped when he was a youngster of 22 (see Fanfare 34:5). At the time, I wondered just how hyperbolic he was being. Now that I’ve had a chance to hear the performance—which concludes his two-CD Liszt sampler—I can easily understand why he feels that way. Granted, by the stopwatch (always unreliable, but especially so in a long work with dozens of tempo changes), this 29-minute reading is fairly centrist in overall timing. But it certainly doesn’t feel centrist. Rather, the overall effect is vertiginous—passages of almost terrifying impetus made even more ferocious by the extremity with which Katsaris plays many of the slower passages (try, for instance, the way he puts on the brakes as he approaches his arrival at measure 532, or the way he stretches the fermata before the Grandioso theme at measure 600). Yet for all the brinksmanship, for all the improvisatory bravura, there’s never a sense of approximation. Katsaris’s somewhat dry tone keeps the textures clear and his unerring control of articulation and accent keeps them active, with the result that the music consistently sounds both detailed and eventful. And in part because he has such a good sense of the music’s emotional architecture (including a sure understanding of the dramatic purpose of the recitatives), the music has a consistent sense of direction. This reading may not have the intellectual acuity of Steven Hough’s or the volcanic integrity of Ernst Levy’s or the depth of Richter’s many recordings. But for sheer adrenaline, the young Katsaris is a match for Simon Barere, and for sheer imagination, he’s got him beat.
The performance is doubly effective because it comes at the end of a recital that generally offers a rather different vision of both Liszt and Katsaris. Granted, once past the deceptively pensive opening, the high-speed performance of the Second Concerto is similarly searing—especially in the brilliant cascades in the final pages. Here, too, Katsaris ups the emotional ante with his careful articulation, which gives an unusually detailed profile to the musical gestures. And here too he manages to heighten things further with his extreme contrast (try the luxury of the Allegro moderato ). Granted, too, no one is likely to accuse him of underplaying the second Hungarian Rhapsody. But most of the rest of the performances—as befits the repertoire—are notable less for their razzle-dazzle than for their acute understanding of Liszt’s subtler rhetoric.
Thus, it’s not simply that Katsaris captures (even heightens) the strangeness of the radical late scores. More than that, the recording stands out because he manages to do so without turning the music abstract or damping its remaining romantic tendencies. Thus, he fully conveys the obsessive qualities of La Lugubre Gondola I —but he does so without losing the music’s sense of motion. Similarly, there’s no attempt to normalize La Lugubre Gondola II —but there’s no loss of the passionate desperation at its core. Listen to the marvelous tonal effects (including the artful pedaling) in Am Grabe or to the tremendous control of dynamics in the opening pages of the Trauervorspiel or to the disorienting contradictions of the Second Elegy (gloriously passionate, utterly bereft): Rarely has so strong a case been made for the emotional (as opposed to the experimental) qualities of these scores.
One caveat: As Patrick Rucker rightly pointed out in his knowledgeable review in Fanfare 35:4 (less enthusiastic than mine), this is not a collection for textual purists. The most startling deviation from the written score comes at the end of Trauervorspiel und Trauermarsch . Not only does Katsaris add a sonic halo to Liszt’s stark original, but he also throws in a striking effect: Just as the final sustained wash of sound seems to be dying away, it suddenly builds a crescendo. Can a piano really crescendo on a sustained sound? It certainly sounds as if there has been some electronic intervention, but in a series of e-mails Katsaris told me that it was a purely acoustical phenomenon created by the pedals. In any case, while it’s not quite what Liszt wrote, it does (at least to my ears) fit the mood of the music.
The sound varies according to the sources, but it’s generally good, and the studio performances—all of which are new—are a lot better than that. In the Second Concerto, the orchestra provides unusually rich and colorful support.
Schubert demands a rather different approach—and on this recital from 1993, he gets it. These are, on the whole, brightly illuminated performances, dryish in tone and often impulsive (although never rushed) in tempo. Thus, while the sonata is surely one of Schubert’s grander creations, there’s none of Horowitz’s intensity; indeed, Katsaris nearly whispers the third movement, and he offers a generally sunlit account of the finale. Yet for all the clarity, there’s no lack of melodic beauty (listen to the flexible melodic curls of the second of the Klavierstücke ), of timbral sensitivity ( Ständchen is exquisite), or (especially in his collection of Ländler and dances) of succulence and wit. Katsaris’s own fantasy on themes by Tchaikovsky (mainly Swan Lake ) and Wagner ( Tannhäuser , although Lohengrin might have been more fitting) is a delightful first encore—but the eloquent reading of the Bach, with its utter purity and peace, brings the recital to an even higher plane. Not quite as ear-catching as the Liszt recital, perhaps, but well worth owning even so.
FANFARE: Peter J. Rabinowitz
Early Romantic Piano Quartets by Hummel, Ries & Schubert
Scharwenka: Complete Piano Concertos / Markovich
Piano Concerto No. 1 was dedicated to Liszt and brought Scharwenka great renown. Originally conceived as a solo piano Fantasy, it was reworked as a piano concerto which in its content, despite a seemingly conventional three-movement structure, reflects its origin as a fantasia. The Second Piano Concerto seems to represent a step back stylistically, echoing the conservative style of Brahms. However, the influence of his native Poland can also be heard in allusions to Chopin as well as in Polish dance elements in the finale. The Third Concerto, in C sharp minor, opens with impressively powerful music reflective of this key signature, but in its highly romantic way it also introduces delicate and lyrical passages. Perhaps the finest of the concertos, the Fourth was met with astonishing enthusiasm at its premiere in 1908. It is an enormously varied work, a quality typified in the ‘roller-coaster’ first movement which moves rapidly from one expressive world to another.
R E V I E W S:
"This long-awaited Chandos set gathers the four piano concertos by Franz Xaver Scharwenka (1850-1924) together for the first time, in thrilling performances from Alexander Markovich and the Estonian National Symphony under Neeme Järvi… this new survey of Scharwenka’s piano concertos is a personal triumph for Markovich who consistently delivers titanic pianism that few can match these days." -- Michael Jameson, International Record Review [5/2014]
Scharwenka: Piano Concerto No 4, Polish National Dances / Poizat, Borowicz
Polish pianist and composer Franz Xaver Scharwenka was raised in the spirit of European Romanticism, championing the music of Chopin, Schumann, Mendelssohn and Liszt, and gaining enormous popularity for his own compositions, which Liszt greatly admired. Scharwenka’s fourth and final Piano Concerto (which the composer performed under the direction of Mahler and Stokowski) is a work of genius which stands at the apex of his achievement. The shorter pieces on this album have recently enjoyed renewed popularity, proving the value of Scharwenka’s legacy for modern listeners though much of his music remains to be rediscovered.
Schubert: Rarities and Short Piano Works / Waleczek
Among Schubert’s compositions are rare and overlooked works for solo piano that reflect staging posts of his short compositional life. As a boy he had studied with Salieri who almost certainly encouraged him to explore contrapuntal techniques in 1812 – the fugues and fugal expositions he wrote are testament to his secure grounding in the form. Schubert’s admiration for Mozart is clear in the Fantasy in C minor, while the substantial Two Scherzi, D. 593 show early mastery. Also included is the Allegro in E major, Schubert’s first, unfinished attempt at a piano sonata. Pianist Wojciech Waleczek recorded Liszt’s Harmonies poétiques etreligieuses, Vol. 53 of the Complete Piano Music series on 8.573773.Gramophone wrote: ‘He is sufficiently technically equipped to allow his imagination full flight. He has a strong dramatic instinct and brings a sense of proportion when Liszt grows discursive. Perhaps most importantly, Waleczek conveys an aura of rapture to this music.’
Doppler: The Complete Flute Music, Vol. 1 / Arimany, Martinez, Orquesta Sinfonica Ciudad de Elche
The Doppler brothers played a dominant role in the K & K Monarchy’s musical life as composers, conductors, musicians, and as orchestral soloists. They were on good terms with acknowledged artists of the era, such as Ferenc Liszt, Ferenc Erkel, of Jozsef Bajza. Capriccio starts with this first album in the release of ten total of the complete flute music composed by Franz and Carl Doppler, including many world premiere recordings and interesting autobiographical notes. Flutist Claudi Arimany has done all of the research for this project over the past two decades, and has invited some of the best musicians in the world to participate in this project, including Janos Balint and Shigenori Kudo, who are the flutists chosen for this album.
The Complete Polydor Recordings (1927-1936) / Kempff
Wilhelm Walter Friedrich Kempff was a German pianist and composer. Although his repertoire included Bach, Mozart, Chopin, Schumann, Liszt and Brahms, Kempff was particularly well known for his interpretations of the music of Ludwig van Beethoven and Franz Schubert, recording the complete sonatas of both composers. Wilhelm Kempff’s 78-rpm recordings were very much focused on Beethoven, as can be heard on seven previously issued APR discs, but this release presents everything by other composers he set down from the start of electrical recording until the war. Notable among the titles are four of his own Bach transcriptions and, revealing the pianist in an unexpected light, his own virtuosic elaboration of the Schubert/Liszt ‘Hark, Hark! The Lark’ transcription.
REVIEW:
There's something special about these recordings, something quite miraculous. In spite of the relatively primitive technology involved in these early electrical recordings, I had no trouble at all forgetting sonic imperfections, and zeroing in on a great master channeling great composers. The French Suite no. 5 of Bach, recorded in 1935, is the highlight of the disc; it's a masterful interpretation. I was in awe of this from the first time I heard it, since I had the strong feeling that Kempff was communicating his own awe.
-- Music for Several Instruments
