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Rebay: Complete Music For Clarinet, Flute, & Guitar / Esteso Trio
Brilliant Classics · Feb 2021CD$13.99 -
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Bernstein: Trouble In Tahiti, Symphonic Dances From West Side Story / Schirmer, Munich Radio Orchestra
BR Klassik · Sep 2009CD$19.99 -
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Strauss: Centenary Celebration / Georgiadis, Czech Chamber Philharmonic
Marco Polo · Aug 2017CD$19.99 -
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Rebay: Complete Music For Clarinet, Flute, & Guitar / Esteso Trio
The dates are deceptive: the Viennese composer Ferdinand Rebay (1880-1953) remained largely unaffected by the turbulent musical currents swirling around him in the Austrian capital during the early 20th century. Instead, he composed highly appealing music, Romantic in harmony and Classical in form, with a particular focus on the guitar. Brilliant Classics have brought his name back to light in recent years with modern recordings of the duets for clarinet and guitar (94171), the quartets for guitar, flute and strings (9250) and the sonatas for flute and guitar (9291). In a similar vein, the Italian Esteso Trio now presents three variation sets scored for clarinet, flute and guitar. The first of them is based on an Austrian folksong and conceived as a series of homages to Rebay’s Viennese forebears: Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert and Johann Strauss. The second takes a Tirolean folksong for inspiration and Rebay supplied his own theme for the third, again popular in character and ending with an ebullient Scherzo. In between these highly attractive variation sets, the Esteso Trio plays a Trio and a Spanish Rhapsody’, both likewise dedicated to Rebay’s niece, the concert guitarist Gerta Hammerschmied, who apparently inspired the composer’s passion for the instrument: ‘Meiner lieben Gerta! Ostern 1941’ reads the title page of the Trio. Rebay worked as a piano professor at the conservatoire and composed prolifically in his spare time – more than 600 works bear his name – in a spirit of relaxed craftsmanship that makes an hour spent in his company full of uncomplicated pleasure. ‘Rebay was no dilettante - as tuneful as his music always is, it is unfailingly imaginative’ (MusicWeb International).
Great Singers Live: Edita Gruberova
Edita Gruberova – her very name is melodious. The Slovak soprano is undoubtedly one of today’s most well-known interpreters of coloratura opera singing, and especially of Italian bel canto. She made her debut in 1970 as Queen of the Night in Mozart's "Magic Flute" at the Vienna State Opera and, ever since her performances in the same role at Glyndebourne and Salzburg in 1974, she has been a regular fixture on the world’s leading operatic stages and concert podiums. Flattering epithets such as "the Queen of Coloratura", "the Slovak Nightingale" or "prima donna assoluta" are hardly exaggerated, for they really do represent what Edita Gruberova has embodied for almost half a century. She is celebrated all over the world for her perfect mastery of vocal technique, her astonishing ability to master even the most difficult coloraturas and highest notes, her clear and precise intonation and, most importantly, for something that overshadows and transfigures everything else: the seductive and beguiling timbre of her voice. This album, released by BR-KLASSIK to celebrate her 50th stage anniversary, presents nine recordings made between October 1983 and June 2000 at Bayerischer Rundfunk concerts. In addition to well-known as well as lesser-known arias from operas by Handel, Rossini, Donizetti, and Bellini, and also the Couplet of Adele from Johann Strauss' operetta "Die Fledermaus", Edita Gruberova can also be heard in interpretations from Mozart's "Exsultate, jubilate", his “Laudate Dominum” from the “Vesperae solennes de confessore,” and also Michael Haydn’s far too rarely performed Christmas cantata “Lauft, ihr Hirten, allzugleich.” This album is more than a historical portrait – it offers a representative musical cross-section of Edita Gruberova's wide-ranging repertoire, and also includes several surprises that complement and enrich her comprehensive discography.
Ravel: La Valse / Oramo, Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra
Maurice Ravel composed many works which stand as classics for both solo piano and for orchestra. On this disc, all except one work were first conceived for piano, which raises the question how it is possible to transfer such pianistic music to the orchestra without making it sound like a mere ‘colorized’ version. Ravel’s orchestral writing was the result of a long apprenticeship and careful study. Although his skills as an orchestrator are much admired today, his ability to coax new sounds out of the orchestra wasn't always appreciated in his own time, however – in 1907 the critic Pierre Lalo complained that ‘in Ravel’s orchestra, no instrument retains its natural sound…’!
Among the works performed here by Sakari Oramo and the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra are some of Ravel’s earliest compositions, including the much-loved Pavane pour une infante défunte, but the album closes with a later work: La Valse, written in 1920 as one of only four works by Ravel originally conceived for orchestra. The idea of composing a tribute to Johann Strauss had pursued Ravel since 1906, but it took a commission from Sergei Diaghilev of the Ballets Russes for him to return to the project. When Diaghilev found it unsuited for ballet, Ravel gave it the subtitle ‘choreographic poem’. It was premiered in concert in 1920 and enjoyed immediate success.
REVIEW:
The ostensible title of this disc is “La Valse,” which is actually the least interesting performance on it. Oramo delivers a quick, lithe and lean interpretation of a work that ought to sound like a decadent, high cholesterol indulgence that explodes in a giant orchestral aneurism at the end. Here, he leaves the music no room to increase in urgency through the apocalyptic closing pages, although the playing is excellent and the sonics, as usual, first class. No, the real treat here is Le Tombeau de Couperin, here given with the two movements of the piano original that Ravel left off the orchestral version (Fugue and Toccata) very idiomatically arranged by Kenneth Hesketh. I particularly like Oramo’s decision not to take the opening too quickly, so that we get to savor the melody as well as Ravel’s gorgeous harmonies. It’s a splendid performance all around.
After Le Tombeau, the highlight of the program must be Une barque sur l’océan, still something of a rarity (even the score used to be hard to find), and I suppose a work that seems to fail next to Debussy’s La mer. The truth is that it’s a totally different beast, mostly dark and mysterious, and that’s just how Oramo plays it. The remaining works are mostly good. The inevitable Pavane for a Dead Princess and the Minuet antique are unkillable, but Alborada del gracioso needs more swagger towards the end. Why doesn’t Oramo give the trombones a chance to inject a little healthy vulgarity into the concluding bars? Of course, it’s not as if we’re short of worthy alternatives in most of this music, but the excellence (and novelty) of Le Tombeau and Une barque make this release impossible to dismiss.
-- ClassicsToday.com (David Hurwitz)
Massenet: Ballet Music / Gallois, Barcelona
First I listened out of order and decided the opener, Bacchus, was my least favourite. Then I went in order and, mid-Bacchus, wondered what I had been complaining about. Yes, “Chasseresses et Bacchantes” has an early role for a percussion instrument so wimpily played that I’m not sure what it is, but then the most glorious Johann Strauss parody waltz breaks out and all is forgiven. Yes, the final bacchanale isn’t as crazy as Saint-Säens’ or Roussel’s, but what music is?
Hérodiade is an opera about Herod, where he’s the central character, in contrast with Richard Strauss’s Salome. The ballet music comes from a banquet where Herod entertains guests with dances by exotic slave girls from various foreign lands. It’s the shortest selection here.
Then we have big suites from Thaïs and Le Cid, each over 20 minutes, the highlights of the disc. Those who know Thaïs only for its “Meditation” will be happy to hear that the rest of the opera is also jam-packed with beautiful music. It’s varied, too, from the stern timpani roll of the opening andante to the perky Pierné-like flute and piccolo solos of the sixth movement, to the unexpected two-minute church-like organ solo. Le Cid is a festival of Spanish tropes, tunes and clichés from the very start. The inevitable cor anglais solo, in ‘Madrilène’, is just gorgeous. It’s as tuneful and colourful as the Spanish pastiches of Chabrier and Debussy, which is to say it’s a ton of fun.
The Barcelona Symphony plays excellently throughout, that one wimpy percussion issue confined to a single track. They seem to especially enjoy the Le Cid music, but who wouldn’t? Patrick Gallois continues to prove himself an extremely skilled, sensitive conductor of ballet music. You could imagine people dancing to this album. Given how good the music is, it’s extremely rare to have it collected on disc without the full operas alongside. Frémaux and Marriner have recorded Le Cid but for sound, panache and comprehensiveness, it’s hard to beat this. What fun.
– Brian Reinhart, MusicWeb International
Godowsky: Transcriptions
Christmas in Ainola
Christmas Carols by Jean Sibelius and other Christmas songs
Hynninen, Groop, Tapiola Choir, etc.
Jean Sibelius (1865-1957)
1. En etsi valtaa loistoa, op. 1 / We Ask For Nothing Rich Or Rare 3:25
2. On hanget korkeat nietokset, op. 1 / The Shining Snows Are Driven High 2:28
3. Jo joutuu ilta, op. 1 Christmas Carol / O'er Hill And Dale 2:06
4. Joulu saapuu portin luo, op. 1 / Now Stands Yule at the Snowy Gate 1:46
5. Tervehtii jo meitä, op.1 / Now is Christmas Coming 2:46
6. Joululaulu (Nyt seimelle pienoisen lapsen) 2:15
7. Andante festivo 4:17
Leevi Madetoja (1887-1947)
8. Arkihuolesi kaikki heitä / Cast Off Thy Everyday Cares 1:49
9. Enkelien joululaulu (Ylistäkää Jumalaa, taivas ja maa) 1:56
Piae Cantiones
10. Ecce novum gaudium 1:53
11. Angelus emittitur 1:59
Luther
12. Enkeli taivaan lausui näin / From Heaven Above 2:42
Trad.
13. Maa on niin kaunis / The Earth is Beautiful 2:21
Piae Cantiones
14. Psallat scholarum concio 1:46
15. Ave maris stella 1:55
Jean Sibelius (1865-1957)
16-17. Sonatina op.80
16. Andantino (4:28)
17. Lento-Allegretto-Vivace (3:56)
Trad.
18. Kuului laulu enkelten / Angels, from the Realms of Glory 2:14
Otto Kotilainen (1868 - 1936)
19. Kun joulu on / At Christmastide 2:35
Trad.
20. Joulupuu on rakennettu / The Christmas Tree 1:31
21. No onkos tullut kesä / Is It Suddenly Summer? 1:18
Johann Strauss (1804-1849)
22. Radetzky-marssi / Radetzky March 2:42
Tapiola Choir (1)
Jorma Hynninen, baritone (1)
Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra (1)
Raimo Sirkiä, tenor (2,19)
Jyväskylä Sinfonia (2,19)
Ritva-Liisa Korhonen, soprano (3)
Tampere Philharmonic Orchestra (3)
Chamber Choir Kampin laulu (4,5,9-13,20,21)
Pertti Eerola, organ (4,5,12,13)
Jubilate Choir (6)
Virtuosi di Kuhmo (7)
Monica Groop, mezzosoprano (8)
Turku Castle Chamber Choir (14,15)
Yoshiko Arai, violin (16,17)
Eero Heinonen, piano (16,17)
Marita Viitasalo, piano (22)
Jorma Panula, conductor (1)
Pertti Pekkanen, conductor (2,19)
Kyösti Haatanen, conductor (3)
Timo Lehtovaara, conductor (4,5,9-13,20,21)
Astrid Riska, conductor (6)
Peter Csaba, conductor (7)
Markus Lehtinen, conductor (8)
Heikki Seppänen, conductor
Erkki Pohjola, conductor
[ 56:00 ]
HAPPY DAYS ARE HERE AGAIN
Bernstein: Trouble In Tahiti, Symphonic Dances From West Side Story / Schirmer, Munich Radio Orchestra
BERNSTEIN West Side Story: Symphonic Dances. Trouble in Tahiti 1 & • Ulf Schirmer, cond; Kim Criswell ( Dinah ); 1 Rodney Gilfry ( Sam ); 1 Marlene Grimson ( Trio sop ); 1 Adrian Dwyer ( Trio ten ); 1 Ronan Collett ( Trio bar ); 1 Munich RO • BR 719003 (77:43 Text and Translation) Live: Munich 10/12/2008
& German interview with Ulf Schirmer
I have not generally been impressed with German orchestral performances of distinctly American scores such as these by Leonard Bernstein—heavily dependent on Latin dance rhythms and jazz inflections, having found too many of them stiff and uncomfortable with the idiom. I rather imagine that Viennese listeners have a similar reaction when an American orchestra and conductor perform Johann Strauss. Like the subtle inflections of language, there are some things one just absorbs from the culture that are hard to master otherwise.
So it proves here, especially in the “Symphonic Dances.” The percussion get the rhythms, and the brass have the feel as well, though the trumpets seem reluctant to wail with sufficient abandon, but generally, the woodwinds just can’t quite bring themselves to let lose in the long stretches of exuberance, and the strings are too polite by half. Add to that Ulf Schirmer’s tendency to relax momentum in the more lyrical sections—something Bernstein never did—and you have a performance that is a little too pokerfaced to take flight. It is not bad by any means—Schirmer often generates a good deal of energy and excitement—but it is simply not competitive with more idiomatic performances by the composer and others.
Some of that same orchestral stiffness infects the performance of Bernstein’s heavily ironic, autobiographical one-act opera, Trouble in Tahiti —the characters almost certainly represent Bernstein’s mismatched parents, Jennie and Sam—but this performance is harder to pass over. First of all, there are not a lot of recordings around, and more important, these singers have the style to make it work. The issue raised by this interpretation is one of genre: is it opera or is it musical theater? While most performances are cast with classically trained singers who can act, this recording straddles the fence by using an operatic baritone and a Broadway mezzo. (They also appeared in Simon Rattle’s 1999 EMI Wonderful Town .) Both are very fine: Gilfry, with his virile, flexible instrument, is a perfect self-absorbed and egotistical Sam, and Criswell, a singer with a vibrant and colorful voice, though rather limited on top for “I was standing in a garden,” is an emotionally fragile and angry Dinah. Their voices never blend, but one has to wonder if the stylistic contrast is an interpretive choice. Certainly, even if the combination gives less aural pleasure than two matched operatic voices might, it makes some sense for the antagonistic characters. And the choice of Criswell, a brilliant actress, is vindicated by an absolutely stunning performance of the show-stopping, musical theater-style “What a movie!” The Greek-chorus jazz vocal trio is classy with a reasonable sense of swing, and though the balance between the voices is not always ideal, they create just the right balance of satire and empathy.
In the end though, effective as this performance is, it must still take second place to the 1973 Bernstein-led performance on Sony 60969: very stylish and expressive, with excellent soloists and a perfect trio. There are other performances on CD: the student-cast performance by the Manhattan School of Music Opera Theater on Newport Classic 85641 is quite good, and the 2006 Calliope recording (9391) in accented English with French performers, is an interesting novelty: urbane and very coolly jazzy. But once you have the Bernstein CD, Gilfry and Criswell make this new release an ideal supplement.
FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames
SOUND OF HEAVEN
Lehár: Das Land De Lächelns / Schirmer, Et Al
After Franz Lehár’s initial success with Die lustige Witwe in 1905 – an operetta that harked back to the jolly 19th century works of Johann Strauss II, Millöcker and Suppé – he gradually changed direction. For him there were to be new dramaturgical models including the “lyric operetta” where the focus is on the ‘inner world of the figures’ as Doris Sennefelder puts it in her perspective building notes to this issue. Paganini, Der Zarewitsch and Friederike are all in this mould and in Das Land des Lächelns a further aspect comes to the fore, the cultural clash between East and West. The Viennese Lisa falls in love with the Chinese Prince Sou-Chong but she can’t accept the demands of Chinese values. As in every operetta of the traditional kind act 2 ends in bitter conflict. So does Die lustige Witwe but there everything is sorted out in the third act as Hanna and Danilo dance away to eternal happiness – or so we believe. In Das Land des Lächelns the conflict is resolved insofar as Sou-Chong allows Lisa to leave China and return to Vienna. He displays some humanity after all but this does not really lead to increased understanding.
The Chinese or ‘Oriental’ setting was by no means unique to opera and operetta of the late 19th and the early 20th century. Massenet’s Le roi de Lahore and Delibes’ Lakmé are well-known examples. Mascagni’s Iris and Puccini’s Madama Butterfly are others and even Gilbert and Sullivan went Asian in The Mikado. Later Lehár and Puccini actually worked in parallel on Chinese projects, Puccini with Turandot and Lehár with Die gelbe Jacke which was premiered in 1923. It was later revised and presented in new guise in 1929 with Richard Tauber in the main lead. Then it was a tremendous success. This was Das Land des Lächelns.
There is no denying that Lehár was a tremendously skilful composer. The Chinese allusions in the score are no less striking than corresponding music in Turandot. The procession with chorus at the beginning of act 2 could just as well have been written by Puccini. It is followed by a highly attractive Chinese ballet suite. Towards the end of the act the wedding procession is colourful and powerful, also incorporating quotations from Sou-Chong’s first act song Von Apfelblüten einen Kranz.
This recording is the fourth of a Lehár operetta from CPO to have come my way the last couple of years and it is in the main very successful. Ulf Schirmer, who also conducted Schön ist die Welt (review), secures excellent playing from the Munich Radio Orchestra. His choices of tempo seem unerringly right. He is very close to Otto Ackermann in the historical 1953 recording now on Naxos (review) and that is my benchmark. The long overture, with quotations from the music that follows, very clearly prepares the listener for a largely serious, even tragic play and the ballet suite in act 2 is excellently played. The chorus is also splendid. For once in a recording with spoken dialogue between the musical numbers the balance is such that one need not turn up the volume every time to hear the dialogue properly. Recorded at three live performances the technicians have succeeded in finding the best of both worlds and there is hardly any evidence of an audience. There is quite a lot of dialogue but it is separately tracked and for repeated listening this leaves the choice open for those who want to hear only the music numbers.
There is a delightful but small-voiced second couple with Julia Bauer’s Mi, who sings a charming dancing song in act 2, and Alexander Kaimbacher’s Gustl, who is agreeably lyrical in the duet with Mi in the same act. Finnish soprano Camilla Nylund as Lisa is a bit uneven and her uppermost notes tend to be rather hard and strained. She can also be lyrically appealing, not least in duet, and in the dark-tinted and operatic finale to act 2 she delivers strong dramatic singing. Prince Sou-Chong is sung by Polish tenor Piotr Beczala and he is plainly superb with a good ring in the more outgoing music. Most of all though he impresses through delicious lyric singing with carefully judged nuances that cannot be taken for granted in operetta.
I have complained in the past about sloppy presentation from CPO but in this respect they have made amends. They give us both a detailed track-list and a fairly good synopsis in three languages. I still think that a full libretto would be useful – even for German speakers.
I am not fully au fait with all existing alternative versions. Ackermann’s recording, mentioned above, with Schwarzkopf, Gedda, Loose and Kunz is a classic and at Naxos price unbeatable. Gedda’s stereo remake with Anneliese Rothenberger as Lisa is a splendid alternative and EMI’s third offer, Boskovsky’s recording with Jerusalem and Helen Donath, also has much to commend it. Robert Stolz with Rudolf Schock and Margit Schramm will certainly give pleasure, though I haven’t heard it, but for a brand new recording in excellent sound and a Sou-Chong to challenge even the great tenors on the other sets, this is well worth consideration.
-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International
Kálmán: Die Csárdásfürstin / Bonynge, Et Al
As the important, influential Viennese operetta Die Csárdásfürstin has not been captured on many complete recorded versions, it’s particularly nice to welcome this beguiling new one...The music very craftily fuses Vienna with Budapest in a way that hadn’t been heard since Johann Strauss’s 1885 Zigeunerbaron, and was not heard again until Kálmán’s own Gräfin Mariza in 1924...Operetta maven Richard Bonynge has a close connection with Kálmán, having conducted this score in Australia and elsewhere. His enthusiasm for its riches is manifest in this robust yet finely-detailed recording, in which the vaguely klezmer-like Gypsy string and wind underpinnings come through clearly, as played by the Slovak Radio orchestra, which gets the hot-pepper and tokay accentuation stylishly right...Yvonne Kenny sings prettily as Sylva Varescu...Mojca Erdmann is a delightful Countess Stasi...Naxos adds some Kálmán extras at the end and includes a brief speaking cameo by the composer’s daughter, Yvonne." -- Opera News, April 2005
This is by no means the first good recording of Emmerich Kálmán’s operetta masterpiece The Gypsy Princess. That honor probably goes to the classic EMI, with Anneliese Rothenberger and Nicolai Gedda...But if you are fond of the Viennese operetta idiom and you don’t know this work or lack a recording of it, this new set is a must.
One of its attributes is the sound quality—and while I don’t have four-channel sound, I do have both two and three-channel setups, and in both of those incarnations this hybrid SACD was a stunning audio achievement. Even played as a standard two-channel CD the sound is warm, richly colored, highly detailed without ever seeming clinical. Naxos indicates that this disc contains three versions of the same music: a 5.1 multichannel DSD surround-sound version, a two-channel DSD version, and a standard two-channel stereo version.
It is, however, musical qualities that most strongly recommend this set, and chief among those is Richard Bonynge’s conducting. I should make clear that I have never been a Bonynge enthusiast, and find that in the classic bel canto operas he recorded with his wife Joan Sutherland his conducting lacked incisiveness, rhythmic spine, and momentum. For that very reason, this performance is astonishing—those are precisely the qualities he brings to Kálmán’s delightful score, along with an affectionate warmth that is in evidence from the first notes of the Prelude. It is hard to imagine a more engaging and involving performance of the score than Bonynge gives here. The two leads, Yvonne Kenny and Michael Roider, sound as if they were born to sing this music, even though one of them (Kenny) is Australian. Roider, born in Salzburg, has a lovely lyric tenor voice and the style in his blood. Kenny’s lyric soprano has long been known to us in Mozart and other “serious” repertoire, but she shows a lovely comedic flair and a natural feel for the line of Kálmán’s music. The rest of the cast is splendid, and the entire thing is a treat. It has the feel of a real performance, despite being a studio recording (made in 2002). The second disc is filled with orchestral excerpts from other Kálmán works, which are well worth hearing, and are conducted with the same skill.
Naxos should have gone to the expense of supplying a full libretto. Their detailed synopsis is very helpful, and probably enough for a work that doesn’t deal in dramatic complexity, but we still miss some of the wit and some of the charm of the piece without having a full text available. Nonetheless, this is a highly recommendable set.
Henry Fogel, FANFARE
Humperdinck: Music for the Stage / Salvi, Malmo Opera Orchestra
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REVIEWS:
These incidental scores are a real find. They show that Humperdinck was far more than a one work wonder and is surely overlooked among the large number of turn-of-the-century composers who were able to turn out such highly melodic scores. The one real rarity here is the suite arranged from Das Wunder – the first full-colour silent film, made in 1912.
– Lark Reviews
Think of Humperdinck and Hänsel und Gretel immediately springs to mind, and if you dig a little bit deeper, Königskinder. Of course, he was far more prolific than that, and clearly had a rare talent for melody, vocal setting and orchestration. He is regarded as being a disciple of Wagner rather than a composer who forged a unique path, although I was interested to discover that he was the first composer to use Sprechgesang - a vocal technique halfway between singing and speaking, in Königskinder.
This most welcome, well-filled CD gives us a broad cross-section of his music for the stage. It starts with the prelude to Act II of the unknown opera Die Heirat wider Willen (The Forced Marriage), which opens with huge Wagnerian chords leading to more complex passages which quieten to harp chords then return to the opening. It is highly effective, and is probably the most instantly impactive music on the disc.
It is followed by his incidental music to the play Der Kaufman von Venedig (The Merchant of Venice). There are seven sections, the longest being the accompaniment to Act V Scene 1, “The moon shines bright: in such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees”.
At over ten minutes, it is as long as the previous six episodes put together, and, perhaps unsurprisingly given the word painting to inspire him, Humperdinck produces some magical orchestral effects, employing the harp lavishly to illustrate the moon (with a gentle horn accompanying the harp); the same combination is used at the outset, as the lovers begin their conversation. It is the sort of luscious orchestral sound which lulls one into floating along with it. There are vocal parts in the earlier sections, nicely sung by the tenor, soprano and contralto. The next longest scene at just under four minutes is the masked procession. Once again, the composer uses the harp quite prominently when the music quietens. As with all such incidental music, very short sections (three of the seven are each under one minute) can lead to a rather bitty impression, but Humperdinck manages to keep one’s interest - for example, the Casket Song (soprano, chorus, orchestra and harp again) is a 2:45 highlight.
Das Wunder (The Wonder), is music he composed for a British silent film from 1912 made in colour(!). It was presented at the Royal Opera House in 1912, the film being projected on to a screen with the full orchestra and chorus accompanying. The suite here begins with a prelude for solo organ, leading into a Procession and Children’s Dance, which begins with grand pageantry then quietens down for a rustic dance. The longest sections are the last two, the March of the Army and the Death Motif and the Christmas Scene and Finale. The first is quite memorable with flutes, piccolos, fifes and drums, leading to portentous brass chords for the Death Motif. The Christmas music and finale form a much more serene, ten-minute affair, with the orchestra producing a chiming effect for Christmas bells without orchestral bells being employed. I don’t think that the whole piece shows Humperdinck at his most memorable, but it is enjoyable, nonetheless.
Die Wallfahrt nach Kevlaar – Ballade (The Pilgrimage to Kevlaar) is a setting of three poems by Heinrich Heine, and Humperdinck uses soprano, tenor and chorus with orchestra. The songs tell of a journey made by a mother and her sick son to the shrine of The Virgin Mary at Kevelaer. The first song – At the Window stands the Mother - is a 3’30” narrative between soprano and tenor with the chorus commenting leading to an impressive, very Wagnerian crescendo, followed by the soloists combining with the chorus in a long, sustained note at the end. The second song, at just over seven minutes, depicts the visit to the shrine with a processional quality which slowly gathers strength. The tenor sings some very passionate music, somewhat reminiscent of Tanhauser’s Rome Narration, in which the boy and his mother are described. The last section at 4’33” – The Sick Son and the Mother – describes the death of the child, and, as one might expect, is duly solemn. The horn accompanies the soprano in dramatic declamation as the boy dies, and the chorus provide a swelling epilogue, with the soprano and harp softening things in a brief threnody at the very end. The work is set in a most sympathetic manner by Humperdinck.
The CD ends with his incidental music to Aristophanes’ Lysistrata. The composer tries to capture the antique nature of the play through his instrumentation, but even so we can hear Tristan during an extended cor-anglais solo. It is an attractive short suite.
As I mentioned at the outset, I have found this CD to be a welcome issue, and the last three items are all world premiere recordings. The booklet is informative about the composer and the music, and although texts to the sung parts are not provided, they are available from the Naxos website.
The performances are excellent in every respect, as we have come to expect from Malmö, and the recording is well balanced and natural.
– MusicWeb International (Jim Westhead)
Strauss: Centenary Celebration / Georgiadis, Czech Chamber Philharmonic
Throughout his life, Eduard Strauss's compositions were unfavorably compared with those by his elder brothers, Johann II and Josef, yet many of his works, especially those dating from the 1870's and 1880's, easily stand comparison with those crafted by his two famous siblings. Moreover, in two particular dance genres - the quick polka and the galop - Eduard was in a class of his own. As the Strauss authority Professor Franz Mailer stated: ''Posterity must make restitution to Eduard Strauss.'' It is to be hoped that, at the very least, this present recording will encourage a reassessment of ''handsome Edi's'' unique musical genius.
Ernst: Complete Music Vol 3 / Sherban Lupu, Ian Hobson
ERNST Introduction and Fantasy on Le Quattour Favori by F. Halévy , Op. 6. Élégie , Op. 10. Introduction, Variations, and Finale on a Waltz by Charles Shunke and Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst, Op. 26. Hungarian Airs, Op. 22. HELLER and ERNST Pensées fugitives , 7-12. OSBORNE and ERNST Souvenirs of La Juive • Sherban Lupu (vn); Ian Hobson (pn) • TOCCATA 0163 (80:55)
Toccata’s series, Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst: Complete Music , continues with its third volume, comprising two sets of variations, the once famous but now at least familiar Élégie , the second half of Pensées fugitives (the first half having appeared in the series’s first volume), an opera fantasy, and the formidable Airs hongrois variés (here with a cadenza by Arthur Hartmann), all played, once again, by violinist Sherban Lupu and pianist Ian Hobson. The first work in the collection bears the title Introduction et Variations Brillantes en form de Fantaisie pour le violon sur le Quatuor favori de Ludovic de F. Halévy and consists of a set of four variations on a theme from Halévy’s opera Ludovic (according to the notes, Halévy completed the work begun by Ferdinand Hérold). As in the earlier volumes, Lupu produces a slightly acidulous tone, but he wields it suggestively, leaping with great effect into the higher registers in the introduction and playing with the pathos and drama the music, as well as the composer’s reputation, demands. As in the other volumes, Toccata has provided separate tracks for each section—the introduction, theme, variations, and concluding passages—so that reader-listeners can follow the highly detailed—and highly informative—booklet notes by Ernst’s biographer, Mark Rowe. In the variations, Lupu communicates the brilliance and aplomb (listen to his strutting staccato double-stops sprinkled with pizzicatos or the transcendentally difficult finale) that must have made such a strong impression on Ernst’s listeners (he seemed to have known—and been admired by—virtually everybody, including Liszt, with whom he played Beethoven’s “Kreutzer” Sonata, Joachim, Berlioz, Mendelssohn, Robert and Clara Schumann, Paganini, Brahms, Wieniawski, and Charles Hallé, while the perceptive 19th-century violin historian, the Rev. H. R. Haweis, identified him as the greatest of all the violinists he’d heard).
The notes relate the hyper-romantic story of the Élégie sur la mort d’un objet chéri , which Ernst composed upon learning of the death of a young woman with whom he had fallen in love years earlier. Lupu creates the violinistic equivalent of a sob—many times over—in his heartfelt performance of this piece, which includes Louis Spohr’s characteristically chromatic introduction—the practice of including, which Rowe traces to Joachim and August Wilhelmj. Compare this deeply moving reading to the blander but still affecting one by Ingolf Turban (without Spohr’s introduction, on Claves CD 50-9613, Fanfare 20:6), the rich-toned but again less electifying one by Ilya Grubert (with Spohr’s introduction but also with some heavy breathing that doesn’t really help make Ernst’s mournful point—Hyperion 67619, Fanfare 31: 6), and Grubert’s similar reading with orchestra (without Spohr’s introduction but with the weight of the orchestra to give it ballast, which Steven E. Ritter reviewed in Fanfare 30:5 and I reviewed in Fanfare 31:1—Naxos 8.557565), and it becomes clear how much more pathos Lupu wrings from the piece. The notes give the next work the title, Introduction, Variations et Final, Dialogués, & Concertans sur une Valse favorite pour Piano et Violin par Charles Schunke et H. W. Ernst , and the work, with its showy pianism, recalls the Thème Allemande Varié , also by the two in collaboration, which appears in the series’ first volume. In this case, they’ve embellished in four variations a waltz by Johann Strauss, Sr., creating from it a highly entertaining, rhythmically vibrant pastiche that relies for its effect more heavily on pianistic than on violinistic brilliance. Hobson meets the challenge, as does Lupu—handily in both cases (and the violin part’s not at all easy, even if it’s overshadowed by the piano).
The Pensées fugitives include a Rêverie, Un Caprice, Inquiétude, Prière pendant l’orage, Intermezzo , and a Thème original de H. W. Ernst , with a variation and finale. (The identification of Ernst must have been necessary because Ernst published these pieces with pianist Stephen Heller—and though Ernst wasn’t their sole composer, he did give performances of them.) In the Rêverie, Lupu plays some portamentos that will strike many listeners as old-fashioned, but will seem to others the most effective way in which to heighten the expressivity—which they do. The Caprice doesn’t suggest the difficulty of Paganini’s works by the same name, but communicates the joviality and indeterminacy at the title’s root (a leaping goat?). The restless Inquiétude gives way to the moving Prière, to which, according to the notes, a storm serves as the background. Lupu and Hobson capture the prayer’s urgency as effectively as they do the storm’s tumultuousness. The Intermezzo, more playful, nevertheless reflects darker Affekten in its accompaniment, at least in Hobson’s performance. The theme and variations doesn’t empty Ernst’s bag of tricks as do the other works, but the variations seem strongly characterized, in the drawing-room manner, and the duo digs the marrow out of each of these moods and posturings. The booklet notes give the epigraphs printed with these pieces and descriptions of each.
Lupu and Hobson make Souvenirs de l’Opéra La Juive de F. Halevy [sic] pour Piano et Violon Concertants Composés par Osborne et Ernst , another collaboration—this time with George Osborne, according to the notes, an Irish pianist—sound quintessentially operatic, in each of its two sections. The intensity of these movements, and their performances, gives way to the breathtaking swagger of the Hungarian Airs , which Rowe identifies as one of Wieniawski’s favorite warhorses and even cites as an influence (in its rising 10th) on Edward Elgar’s Violin Concerto. Ruggiero Ricci recorded this piece twice, mounting its technical challenges with more breathtaking panache (if greater recklessness) than does Lupu, although Ricci doesn’t capture to a significantly greater degree its ethnic coloring or the affecting lyricism of its second theme, in which, once again, Lupu seems almost to sob. And Hartmann’s brilliant and commanding cadenza fits the work hand-in-glove.
For those who haven’t yet discovered the riches of Toccata’s series, this third volume might be as good a place as any to begin—but surely not to end. There’s a diamond in every sock drawer—almost, in fact, in every sock. The volumes of this series ought to pass directly through the Want List into the Hall of Fame, but it may be good for readers to learn of them more expeditiously among the pages of ordinary reviews. But the usual precautions ought to apply: Not recommended for those with heart problems, and so forth. They’re that exciting.
FANFARE: Robert Maxham