Search results: Search results
46 results
Products
-
-
-
-
-
Mahler: Symphony No. 2 "Resurrection" / Rouvali, Philharmonia Orchestra
CD$27.99$25.19Signum Classics
Sep 22, 2023SIGCD760 -
-
-
-
-
-
Ravel: Orchestral Works, Vol. 5 / Slatkin, Orchestre National de Lyon
Now here’s a novelty that fans of Ravel and Rimsky-Korsakov will want to hear. In 1910, the story of Antar reached the stage in Paris as a play, with incidental music by Ravel arranged out of Rimsky’s eponymous symphony/tone poem (with a bit of Mlada thrown in for good measure). There is very little original music by Ravel–just a couple of minutes in all–but the arrangements involve some telling reorchestration and the creation of numerous short interludes. The cinematic conclusion (sound clip) sums things up nicely. All told, you get almost the complete original work: the first three movements, plus a good bit of the finale, albeit in a different order.
Unfortunately, for this premiere recording a long, pretentious, self-consciously “poetic” narration has been added, with words by Amin Maalouf. His main musical distinction lies in the fact that he has furnished several opera librettos for Kaija Saariaho, as if that’s a recommendation. My annoyance grew with every word. I mean, the only reason anyone wants to hear this piece is to find out what Ravel did with Rimsky’s original. Why put narrator André Dussolier in what sounds like an empty aircraft hangar and superimpose his histrionic reading of the text on top of the music? You’ll get through it, but it was a bad decision.
That said, Slatkin’s conducting is excellent, as it almost always is when he’s interpreting Russian music, and the sonics are very good when the narrator isn’t narrating. The coupling is a fine performance of Shéhérazade. Isabelle Druet’s voice is, arguably, a bit too small for the work, but she only sounds strained at the climax of Asie. Otherwise, she sings with intelligence, excellent diction, and characterful attention to the text. A sometimes frustrating release, then, but a collector’s item all the same.
– ClassicsToday (David Hurwitz)
Mahler: Symphony No. 2 "Resurrection" / Rouvali, Philharmonia Orchestra
Mahler 2 is the second album from Philharmonia Records; following their first album - Santtu conducts Strauss. “[Also sprach Zarathustra] Rouvali’s conducting of both is certainly interesting and personal... impressive; an expansive reading that sees the work whole...[An Alpine Symphony] undeniably picturesque; vivid and dramatically projected...top-notch playing; and this extravagant score also enjoys notable recorded sound... lingering lyricism; invariably heartfelt and; in conclusion; cathartic”; Founded in 1945; The Philharmonia Orchestra creates thrilling performances for a global audience and has premiered works by Richard Strauss; Sir Peter Maxwell Davies; Errollyn Wallen; Kaija Saariaho and many others. The Philharmonia has an extraordinary 77-year recording legacy; and has recorded around 150 soundtracks; with film credits stretching back to 1947. In the 2021/22 season the Orchestra performs in Romania; Spain; Finland; Greece and Germany.
Santtu-Matias Rouvali is a Finnish conductor and percussionist; and is currently principal conductor of the Philharmonia Orchestra. Rouvali continues his relationships with orchestras across Europe; including with the Berlin Philharmonic; New York Philharmonic; Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra; Munich Phillharmonic and the the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France.
REVIEW:
In the first movement Rouvali is animated and engaged, using a lighter hand than most other conductors. Such a natural lyrical bent would seem to run counter to music that Mahler originally conceived as a funeral rite (Totenfeier), and it’s certainly unusual for a conductor to have such a relaxed grip on the drama and still make the first movement work.
The point is underscored in the minuet-like second movement, usually a throwaway, which is captivating in Rouvali’s hands, a nostalgic poem. The Scherzo is taken at quite a clip, divorcing the music from the gently satiric song in Des Knaben Wunderhorn about St. Anthony preaching to a school of transfixed fish. Rouvali sharpens the edges and makes the movement rambunctiously exciting—I can’t remember any other conductor leading this music one beat to a bar.
As the soloist in the raptly reverent “Urlicht,” mezzo Jennifer Johnston is sensitive and sincere, but Rouvali leads such an eloquent orchestral part that one wishes he had a singer of the highest caliber. Johnston’s German is more than a shade too basic for the poetry. The thunder and brass that open the fifth movement display excellent balance, bringing forward this conductor’s ability to extract beautiful playing for which the word “burnished” was invented. The many solos and ensemble passages in the final half hour of the “Resurrection” Symphony come off with unforced gorgeousness, needing no shred of rhetoric to make an impact.
Rouvali has held his fire to some extent, making it all the more thrilling when he unleashes the full power of the finale in moments of blazing climax. He must have had the audience on the edge of their seats. Against this tumult, the sudden whispered quiet of the chorus is doubly effective. Soprano Mari Eriksmoen emerges with melting lyricism, and yet you are aware that Rouvali milks nothing for effect—his eye is fixed on the musicality of every measure. You also notice how even the softest passages retain a restrained intensity that keeps the moving line tensile and alive. This is particularly helpful in the duets for mezzo and soprano, where the momentum is most likely to sag. Here, not a single transition is awkward or faltering.
The final apotheosis is so magnificently handled that I can’t blame the producers for including a minute of excited applause from the audience in Royal Festival Hall. For anyone who has harbored doubts about Rouvali’s meteoric rise, a performance as imaginative and beautifully shaped as this one should dispel them. I’m convinced that he has a special gift. I cannot wait to see how it will unfold in the coming years.
-- Fanfare (Huntley Dent)
Bach & Beyond / Jennifer Koh
Hailed as an “epic traversal of solo violin repertoire” and a “monumental achievement” (Chicago Tribune), American violinist Jennifer Koh’s complete Bach & Beyond recordings, pairing J.S. Bach’s violin sonatas and partitas with 20th- and 21st-century works inspired by Bach’s groundbreaking masterpieces, are now available in a convenient, economical boxed set offering all three albums for the price of two. Bach & Beyond Part 1 features Koh’s “alluring performances” (The New York Times) of Bach’s Partitas Nos. 2 and 3, Eugène Ysaÿe’s Sonata No. 2, Kaija Saariaho’s Nocturne, and the world-premiere recording of Missy Mazzoli’s Dissolve, O My Heart, commissioned for Koh by the Los Angeles Philharmonic. The Newark Star-Ledger cited the violinist’s “distinctive voice over a range of styles.” Toronto’s The Whole Note said of Bach & Beyond Part 2, “Koh, as always, is superb, her intelligence and interpretation always matching her outstanding technique” in Bach’s Sonata No. 1 and Partita No. 1, Bela Bartok’s Sonata for Solo Violin Sz. 117, BB 124, and Saariaho’s Frises. Koh’s Bach & Beyond Part 3 earned BBC Music Magazine’s and ClassicsToday.com’s highest ratings for performance and recording quality. The Strad admired Koh’s “eloquent, artful, yet unadorned playing” in Bach’s Sonatas Nos. 2 and 3, Luciano Berio’s Sequenza VIII, and the world-premiere recording of John Harbison’s For Violin Alone, written for Koh. AllMusic said, “Koh’s series is highly recommended to those in search of an experience that will reward repeated hearings.” Audiophile Audition called it a “remarkable three-disc effort, recommended to all with a good degree of urgency.”
Excerpts of reviews from previously released volumes included in this set:
Bach & Beyond, Part 1
Koh makes short work of the Bach pieces—not in a bad sense: she just nails these works with a confident technique and a free-flowing, un-mannered style that remains true to Bach yet reminds us that a modern violinist is at the helm. Although ostensibly “modern”, the works by Saariaho and Mazzoli still incorporate time-honored traditions of solo-violin writing and don’t stray into what some might call “experimental” territory. These are both very ingratiating and accessible works to anyone who appreciates interesting, involving, intelligently written new violin music.
– ClassicsToday.com (10/10)
Bach & Beyond, Part 2
Koh’s Bach is amazing as usual–so fluid and delivered with such a sensitively nuanced, confident authority. A personality emerges: is it Koh? is it Bach? It’s either or both, but ultimately, who cares? This is exceptional Bach playing. Throughout, Koh is in command, from the dazzling explications of the Bartók Fuga and Presto movements, to the sometimes frighteningly audacious dynamic and timbral assertions of the Saariaho.
– ClassicsToday.com (10/10)
A Due / Kari Krikku, Anssi Karttunen
A DUE • Kari Krikku (cl, 1 b cl 2 ); Anssi Karttunen (vc) • ONDINE 1102 (72:13)
TIENSUU Plus II. 1 KORTEKANGAS Iscrizione. 1 SAARIAHO Oi kuu. 2 M. LINDBERG Steamboat Bill, Jr. 1 MERILÄINEN Unes. 1 JOKINEN Pros. 1 BERGMAN Karanssi. 1,2 LÄNSIÖ A Due. 2 HEININEN Short I. 1 HAKOLA Capriole 2
Recorded over a 13-year time span (1992–2005), this is a remarkable disc. On first glance, it screams “specialist.” A whole hour-plus of music by territory-specific composers for clarinet or bass clarinet and cello may send many prospective purchasers heading in the opposite direction. But they would be forgetting the innate musicality of the Finns.
The partnership of Krikku and Karttunen has resulted in a small library of commissions. Jukka Tiensuu (b. 1948) has been writing a series of works sharing the title Plus for some years now, for differing combinations of instruments. Plus II dates from 1992 (there is also a version for bass clarinet called Plus IIb ). There is more than a hint of music theater in the way the soloists shadow each other (sometimes microtonally). This shadowing generates tremendous energy. The (wonderful) recording is, appropriately for the intimacy of this disc, close and involving, although without being claustrophobic. The playing is simply stunning, true chamber music in a late 20th-century context.
Suddenly the sky darkens for Iscrizione (1990) by Olli Kortekangas (b. 1955). The piece is ultra-compact (it lasts just a touch over three minutes) yet makes a lasting impression, not least in the depth of utterance of its deep initial gesture.
The name of Kaija Saariaho (b. 1952) is well known internationally. IRCAM-trained, she boasts prestigious commissions from around the world, plus a discography that is graced by the names of Gidon Kremer, Sir Simon Rattle, and Esa-Pekka Salonen. The piece Oi Kuu (“O Moon”) explores multiphonics and timbral points of contact between the two instruments. Sonically, the piece sounds as if it is frozen. Expression in the traditional sense only sporadically breaks through (notably around the 2:40 mark); for the rest of the time, this is a stuck, almost painful moment in time.
Magnus Lindberg (b. 1958) is another well-known contributor here. Steamboat Bill, Jr. , premiered in 1990 in Warsaw, was inspired both by a performance of Stravinsky’s Italian Suite (by Heifetz and Piatigorsky) and by the film Steamboat Bill, Jr. of 1928 (starring Buster Keaton). Lindberg refers to his “kaleidoscopic way of writing,” including spectralism and minimalism. The result is a canvas of much beauty, especially the glacial stasis of around five or six minutes in, while the silent-film accompaniment element to the final pages is good, simple fun.
Usko Merilaïnen is one of only two composers on this disc that is no longer with us (he died in 2004; Erik Bergman died in 2006). The accompanying notes would have us believe this is a work in which all is not what it seems. What it seems to this commentator to be is a stream of consciousness where ambiguity is all. Erkki Jokinen (b. 1941) includes wit and charm in his Pros of 1990. His compositional hand is a sure and steady one, one so sure of itself that it can comfortably ensure that serialism and minimalism can coexist in a relatively short timespan.
The only multimovement work in this recital is Erik Bergman’s Karanssi (the title shunts together the first names of the two soloists on this recording!). Grunts and key noises are used to maximum effect to create an atmosphere of exquisite tension; the more rarified moments tend to enhance rather than dissipate this sense of strain. Tapani Länsiö (b. 1953) is the one who wrote the piece that gives this disc its name. A Due dates from 1991 and is scored for bass clarinet and cello. During the piece, as the composer puts it, “the instruments do not really want to meet but cannot avoid it.”
For those who love brevity of explanation from their composers, Paavo Heininen (b. 1938) must be a dream. Of Short I , he merely wrote, “ Short is a short piece. Savonlinna 1990 is history. I no longer explain.” Period. (The Savonlinna reference refers to the controversial performance of his opera The Knife at the Savonlinna Opera Festival in 1990.) The two lines sometimes interact, sometimes pursue independent lines of thought.
Finally, Capriole (1993) by Kimmo Hakola (b. 1958). Antti Häyrynen’s booklet notes speak of the interruption of the hectic moto perpetuo by quasi-Mongolian folk music (Mongolian folk music is my most recent musical discovery, by the way, via the 2003 film The Story of the Weeping Camel and also a folk music festival this Summer in ?ervený Kostelec in the Czech Republic: some of the most powerfully moving music I have ever heard). The sound of Mongolia is unmistakable, its whining, slithery nostalgia unforgettable, and Hakola uses this expressivity to unforgettable effect. This alone makes the purchase of this disc worthwhile.
A fantastically stimulating disc, performed by two consummate virtuosos clearly dedicated to their task.
FANFARE: Colin Clarke
Smyth: The Prison / Burton, Brailey, Blachly, Experiential Orchestra
The 2020 GRAMMY Award winner for Best Classical Solo Vocal Performance, honoring Sarah Brailey and Dashon Burton!
August 18th marks the 100th anniversary of the 19th Constitutional Amendment, granting women in the US the right to vote. A fitting time then for our release of the World Premier Recording of Ethel Smyth’s late masterpiece The Prison. Smyth left home at nineteen to study composition in Leipzig. In the company of Clara Schumann and her teacher Heinrich von Herzogenberg, she met and won the admiration of composers such as Tchaikovsky, Brahms, Dvorák, and Grieg. Smyth was the first woman to have an opera performed at the Met, in 1903. (The second was Kaija Saariaho, whose L'Amour de loin appeared there in 2016!) Smyth later became central to the Suffragette movement in England, writing the March of the Women. Her gender politics and sexuality were cause for attacks by critics, and she famously went to prison herself for throwing a stone through an MP’s window. Composed in 1930 and premiered in 1931 in Edinburgh’s Usher Hall, The Prison is a Symphony in two parts, ‘Close on Freedom’ and ‘The Deliverance’, set for soprano and bass-baritone soloists, chorus, and full orchestra. The text is taken from a philosophical work by Henry Bennet Brewster and concerns the writings of a prisoner in solitary confinement, his reflections on life and his preparations for death.
REVIEWS:
Ethyl Smyh's late work, The Prison (1929-30), is uncategorizable. The 64-minute “vocal symphony” for bass-baritone (The Prisoner) and soprano (his Soul), with chorus (philosophical commentary) is in two parts: Close To Freedom and The Deliverance. The heavy-ish text, by Smyth’s dear friend (and perhaps lover, though her relationships tended otherwise to be lesbian) Henry Bennet Brewster centers on the gloomy ruminations of a prisoner considering the end of his life, and his soul, which is guiding him toward peace. In Part 1, He, for instance speaks of his anxiety and inability to sleep, and wonders about immortality and if he will be emancipated; in Part 2, the Soul tells him the end of his struggle is near and he learns to “disband his ego”. The chorus has a further calming effect: immortality is everywhere, human passions remain. He finally finds peace. As you can see, a regular Offenbachian satire–not.
From the very opening moments – “I awoke in the middle of the night” – the mood is weighty with disquiet. The bass-baritone voice of Dashon Burton has both substance and gentleness, his attention to the text that of a Lieder singer. Violin and harp circle his words. Sarah Brailey’s Soul, from the start, sings with subtlety and a type of fleeting loveliness. She opens the second part with a solo on the words “the struggle is over”, intoning much of her words on one note while first a trio of winds, then a solo violin, then the full body of strings and chorus–all pianissimo–join her above and below. Chant? Hymn? Both, really. Smyth layers the orchestra; a brass choir during a passage about immortality makes a grand effect. Later, a painfully beautiful pastoral section precedes the Prisoner’s feeling of metaphysical freedom.
While much of it is gripping, its slow pacing and didacticism can dehumanize the story that the Prisoner and Soul are stuck in. The Prisoner’s “prison”, both metaphorical and real, is presented with such humanity and openness by Burton that his eventual spiritual freedom makes a glorious sound, despite–rather than due to–the orchestrally and chorally weighted underpinnings. Some Elgar shows up, and is not very welcome.
The performance, I suspect, could not be bettered. The New York City-based Experiential Orchestra and Chorus both perform with luscious tone and poise. James Blachly’s leadership brings the work’s lyricism to the forefront; it would be easy to over-emphasize passages but he works best within the dramatic arc of the narrative. Much of The Prison is gorgeous and unexpected – who does Smyth sound like? And while some moments seem inert, they are few and far between.
– ClassicsToday.com (10/10; Robert Levine)
Smyth’s haunting music, given here in conductor James Blachly’s new edition, is beautifully constructed and highly evocative (with quotes or allusions to earlier Smyth scores). Her orchestration is limpid and masterly, rendered lovingly here by Blachly with the Experiential Orchestra. The choral contribution is relatively minor, the focus rightly on the two soloists, but again superbly performed. The only miscalculation is Smyth’s use of ‘The Last Post’ in the concluding pages, adding a martial resonance that may jar to modern ears; to Smyth, a major-general’s daughter, it may just have been an echo of (her) youth which she wanted at this point. Magnificent sound from Chandos, too. Very strongly recommended.
– Gramophone
