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Shostakovich: Cello Concertos 1 & 2 / Dindo, Noseda, Danish National Symphony
SHOSTAKOVICH Cello Concertos: No. 1; No. 2 • Enrico Dindo (vc); Gianandrea Noseda, cond; Danish Natl SO • CHANDOS 5093 (SACD: 60:13)
So many cello concerti, so little time. With dozens of competing versions of these two interpretively rich, emotionally ripe scores—the majority of them first-class accounts that come critically recommended, if with some reservations—it’s cost- and time-prohibitive to be familiar with them all. Mørk? Maslennikov? Müller-Schott? What’s a conscientious reviewer to do? Well, yours truly is tempted to fall back on the tried-and-true, which, after all, is tried and true for good reason. That means Mstislav Rostropovich. Of his several recordings, I opt for the mid-’60s performances powerfully conducted by David Oistrakh, not easy to find but most recently sighted on the Yedang Classics label. The sound is a little rough, but no one matches Rostropovich’s passion and profundity in this music.
Nevertheless, that said, there’s always room for a convincing alternative approach, and Enrico Dindo’s is some distance from that of Rostropovich. Though he’s apparently recorded programs of Beethoven and Bach, only a 1998 release of the Brahms cello sonatas is currently listed in the Fanfare Archive. Michael Jameson called it “satisfying” ( Fanfare 21: 6), and tellingly described Dindo’s point of view as one of “letting the music (rather than any gesture intended to propel a subjective vision of the text) speak for itself.” I find that to be an accurate characterization of his approach to Shostakovich as well. Dindo’s tone is silky and sinewy, and he definitely has the chops to respond to everything Shostakovich asks for—from the buoyant rhythms of the First Concerto to the sustained introspection of the Second. He favors fast, clean lines in the First Concerto, which emphasize its satiric edge in ways reminiscent of the composer’s earlier, youthful impulsiveness (despite the fact that it was written in his 53rd year), though neither slighting, nor exaggerating, the second movement’s elegiac lyricism. In the darker Second Concerto, he adopts an appropriately serious demeanor, providing a consistent, fluid line that lacks Rostropovich’s bite, but allows the music to sing its own eloquent, if dolorous, song. In this his resembles Heinrich Schiff’s attentive, persuasive 1984 performance (Philips), although Schiff benefited from Maxim Shostakovich’s strong, emphatically pointed accompaniment, whereby Gianandrea Noseda, following Dindo’s lead, particularly in the Second Concerto provides ever-so-slightly less dramatic, albeit scrupulously detailed, support.
I suspect these are performances that will retain their interest over time. Add Enrico Dindo’s name to the list of recommended cellists in this significant repertoire.
FANFARE: Art Lange
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These two concertos form a pairing which is logical and convenient but by no means ubiquitous. The Cello Concerto No. 1 is the more widely recorded of the two, with impressive accounts from the likes of Han-Na Chang, and the more enduring dedicatee’s version, Mstislav Rostropovich with Eugene Ormandy in 1959 and now available on Sony Classical. One of the best discs of these two works is with Rafa? Kwiatkowski on the Dux label. Aside from Peter Wispelwey’s recording of the Cello Concerto No. 2 along with Britten’s Third Suite on Challenge Classics, there doesn’t seem to be much choice in this repertoire when it comes to SACD recordings, so this Chandos release enters the market with a useful USP.
Enrico Dindo won the Rostropovich Cello Competition in 1997 and has been performing widely since, also making recordings which have included Bach’s Suites and Vivaldi Concertos on Italian Decca. His playing here is remarkably rich, obtaining deep and richly expressive tones from a Rogeri instrument from 1717. The cello sound is forward, bordering on the surrealist as with so many concerto recordings these days, but not intolerably massive in relation to the orchestra. In fact this is one of the genuine strengths of this recording, with masses of colour and detail from a very powerful sounding Danish National Symphony Orchestra. The opening of the Cello Concerto No. 1 throws down the gauntlet in this regard, the double-bassoon sounding like you’ve never heard it in any other recording; dug into with such gusto that you’d expect the floor to shake and the keys to be shaken off by the vibrations. The excitement in the playing is in its shaping and development, building stirring structures rather than hitting us constantly with masses of relentless intensity. The horn-calls are also marvellous in this first Allegretto, woodwinds competing with the soloist through grating dissonance and dramatic release. Perhaps the strings could have had more presence to make the whole thing a tad more credible. They should come into their own in that most gorgeous and moving of Shostakovich statements, the central Moderato. Even here though, the first horn entry far outweighs the texture of the entire body of strings. Behind the soloist they do seem to be rather at a disadvantage in the balance. Just taking one comparison, that with Thorleif Thedéen and James DePreist on the BIS label, the balance brings the strings that much more into the picture. This allows a more equal interaction which can carry greater emotional heft. Thedéen is a little more heart-on-sleeve than Dindo, with a tighter vibrato and a more vocal way of expressing the melodic lines. I wouldn’t swap this BIS disc for the Chandos one now, but still find it has a good deal to offer.
Whether or not you find the recorded balance a problem, Enrico Dindo’s solo lines carry so much emotional strength that you will find yourself gripped from beginning to end. One of my old favourites for these pieces is from Truls Mørk with the London Philharmonic and Mariss Jansons on the Virgin Classics label. Certain aspects of Noseda’s approach do remind me of the Jansons recording, but I have to admit that Dindo gets as much and more out of the music than almost any rival I can name. Like the texture in the inky lines of a Ralph Steadman drawing, Dindo delights in thickening and thinning sustained notes so that we are constantly in a state of awe and expectation, even when Shostakovich is in passages of transition. Listen in the Moderato to the general sonic picture at about 7:00 and on though: the intensity of the upper strings in the orchestra is almost entirely absent, which undermines at least some of that good work. Dindo’s expressive playing gives the impression of space, but Noseda’s tempi are generally a tad more brisk and compact than many. Jansons takes 12:32 with this Moderato for instance, compared to Noseda’s 10:50.
The rough peasant feel in the final movement of this first concerto is something to relish; the aural glue not quite holding together as the winds advance in the balance and give us a kick from time to time. It has an undeniable grip and snatch flowing from Noseda’s treatment, an uncompromising approach which drags us along mercilessly and never lets go.
Shostakovich’s Cello Concerto No. 2 is dark from the outset, the mood superbly set through the solo cello and lower strings in the opening bars. The imagination is teased by fragmentary moments of brooding beauty, such as the repeated double-stop gesture at around 4 minutes in. This is a bleak landscape and the kind of inner journey which can lead you to places both moving and disturbing. Dindo speaks emotively, the sighing downward gestures weighed with tears, the parlando moments confiding and gruff by turns. Shostakovich’s score in the first movement is as hard as nails, and the players nail it firmly. The bass drum thwacks from around 9:20 are an audiophile treat as well.
The acoustic space is emphasised in the open textures of the opening to the central Allegretto, and the sense of volume in the 5.0 SACD surround mix is very tactile indeed. Listen to the laughing winds from about 2:30: the playing is not only needle sharp, but is also filled with personality and character throughout. The theatricality of the opening to the final Allegretto has rarely been so sharply observed, and you expect an announcement from a melodramatic actor as much as you do the entry of the cello. Those ‘nice’ tunes as they arrive are all the more earth-shatteringly emotive for these extremes of contrast. Little operatic touches and that late-Shostakovich sense of a fatefully ticking time-bomb make the whole thing as touching and filled with narrative import as I can ever remember hearing.
Chandos easily replaces its earlier release of this repertoire with Frans Helmerson and the Russian State Symphony Orchestra on CHAN 10040. This has some lovely playing and a decent concert hall balance, but with somewhat rough-and-ready qualities from the orchestra in some of the more technically demanding passages. Fans of these two concertos simply must have this recording from Dindo/Noseda. The cover photo of Red Square is strikingly atmospheric, and there are good booklet notes and pictures inside as well. Despite my reservations about the string balance which admittedly affects the scoring of the first concerto more than the second, this is a must-have and a life-changer for Shostakovich fans.
-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International
Bach, Britten & Kodály: In Memoriam II - The Scordatura Album / Wispelwey
“This Scordatura Album is the second In Memoriam album in honour of my son Dorian. It features two illustrious masterpieces written for cello in alternative, darker tunings: the Bach Suite with the top string lowered by a whole tone and the Kodály Sonata with the two bottom strings lowered by a semitone. Both pieces are fierce, resilient and profound and although painted in dark colours, they comfort us with their show of sheer musical power and luminous inventiveness.” Stark statement of repertoire filled with personal significance and universal beauty. Unparalleled preformance of Kodály's sonata for cello solo. Pieter combines intense energy and emotional connection in his interpretation of the pieces.
Bach: Cantatas Vol 3 / Gardiner, English Baroque Soloists

Some hallmark performances in this array of Trinity cantatas
As ever, John Eliot Gardiner’s magnificent Bach Cantatas series eschews the big-boned, monumental approach to this composer of yesteryear. Here, in a really tremendous volume, is spiritual reflection paced to the fast-moving ebb and flow of life today. As such, it always feels relevant and vital. And much of that stems from the fact that Gardiner’s players and singers sound so utterly involved through every bar. Even if it doesn’t approach the polish of some versions, and one or two of the singers are not quite of the vocal quality of rivals, still they perform as if in response to some higher call. Among conductors, of course, few rank higher than Gardiner. And, as ever, the tempi and textures are warm and above all channel a sense of the humane. Woven into the whole are countless magical virtuoso moments – these may be great shared experiences, but the space for individual expression constantly keeps it personal. When the big collective moments do arrive, as at the end of Ich ruf zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ, they do so with great force. And, as the marvellous Monteverdi Choir beseech Jesus for mercy, for the strength to resist temptation, there is no question as to the cumulative power of these readings.
-- Gramophone [5/2008]
This indispensable series goes from strength to strength.
This is the release in the series for which I’ve been waiting most keenly. That’s because it includes a concert which I was lucky enough to attend. In July 2000, as part of the Cheltenham Music Festival, Sir John led his pilgrims into the magnificent medieval surroundings of Tewkesbury Abbey for a late Sunday afternoon concert. I was among the capacity audience, accompanied by two Bach-loving friends, both of whom have since died. I’m sure they would have shared my pleasure at reliving the event through the medium of CD. I had completely forgotten that the previous evening Gardiner and the Pilgrims had been at London’s Royal Albert Hall when they’d performed two of these cantatas as part of a Henry Wood Promenade Concert. Sir John comments how pleased they all were to get back to the more intimate feel of a Pilgrimage concert.
Proceedings at Tewkesbury began with BWV 24. The cantata opens with the words “Ein ungefärbt Gemüte von deutscher Treu und Güte macht uns vor Gott und Menschen schön.” (“An unstained mind of German truth and goodness makes us beloved of God and men.”) There’s a calm assurance and confidence about the music to which Bach sets this very Lutheran sentiment. The stately aria that results is sung with great poise by Nathalie Stutzmann. Later there’s a vigorous chorus, which is far from easy to pull off – and which gave even Gardiner’s forces a little trouble in rehearsal, we are told. In performance, however, it’s completely successful. The other especially persuasive feature of this cantata is the plangent tone that Paul Agnew brings to the tenor aria, ‘Treu und Wahrheit sei der Grund’. His approach is ideally suited to the music.
Alfred Dürr states that when Bach first performed BWV 24 in Leipzig he had, on the preceding three Sundays, given the Leipzig congregations much longer and more elaborate bi-partite cantatas, BWV 75, 76 and 21. In order to keep his offering for the Fourth Sunday after Trinity in similar scale he performed two cantatas that day, one either side of the sermon, and the second cantata was BWV 185. This is a much earlier piece but one that contains a good deal of admirable music. It opens with a lovely soprano/tenor duet and here we find the voices of Magdalena Kožená and Paul Agnew intertwining languorously. Miss Kožená’s tone is particularly melting. Added interest comes from Bach’s use of a clarion, which, as Gardiner puts it, we hear “hovering above the two amorous vocal lines.” Further into the cantata there’s another treat in the form of the alto aria ‘Sei bemüht in dieser Zeit’. It’s an enchanting aria and, as Gardiner says, Nathalie Stutzmann’s “sumptuous yet transparent contralto seemed just right for this aria, especially in the glowing afternoon light of Tewkesbury Abbey.” Later comes a bass aria but I’m afraid I don’t find Bach’s music all that appealing on this occasion, nor is the timbre of Nicholas Teste’s voice as ingratiating as I’d like.
The final Tewkesbury offering is BWV 177. This cantata is based on a hymn and Bach, setting five verses, eschews recitative. There’s a substantial and elaborate opening chorus in which the Monteverdi Choir excels. In the alto aria Nathalie Stutzmann once again produces beautifully communicative singing. Her aria is sparsely accompanied by continuo only. The soprano aria is a more elaborate affair with a very decorated vocal line. Magdalena Kožená gives it a fine, fluent reading. The remaining aria is for tenor and it’s mainly jaunty in tone. Agnew sings excellently. Of special note in this aria is the chattering double obbligato, provided by a violin and a bucolic, soft-grained bassoon.
The next stop on the journey was a city with very direct Bachian links. Mühlhausen was the city where Bach worked for just a year (1708-08) before moving on to Weimar, though he appears to have maintained cordial links with Mühlhausen after his departure.
Only two cantatas for the Fifth Sunday after Trinity have come down to us. This relative paucity gave Gardiner the chance to perform at Mühlhausen two highly appropriate cantatas, written for the city but for other occasions. BWV 71 was composed for the inauguration of the town council in February 1708. The splendour of this civic occasion prompted Bach to write for pretty extravagant forces. Four solo voices (SATB) are augmented by an optional ripieno choir (also SATB) and no less than four separate instrumental choirs are specified: three trumpets and drums; two recorders and cello; two oboes and bassoon; two violins, viola, and violone. However, Gardiner points out that the cantata has its weaknesses and he says that it is “somewhat disjointed and short-winded”, a verdict from which it is hard to dissent. However, he very rightly singles out for praise the penultimate movement, the chorus ‘Du wollest dem Feinde” The gentle, expressive music in this movement is a cut above the rest of the score. As Dürr comments, it’s “the most original and captivating movement in the whole cantata.” It’s splendidly done here.
Gardiner fields a strong team of soloists, who blend together most effectively in the third movement, a quartet. This concert introduces us to a soloist not previously encountered on the Pilgrimage, the South African tenor Kobie van Rensburg. His voice was completely new to me but he makes a most favourable impression with a strong, ringing tone and clear articulation and diction. This is heard to good advantage almost immediately in the aria ‘Ich bin nun achtzig Jahr’.
The next cantata, BWV 131 is a much stronger and more rounded composition. Perhaps it helps that Bach had a much more unified text to set in the shape of verses from Psalm 130. The opening chorus is quite superb. The keenly felt slow music with which it opens is most eloquently performed and no less impressive is the account of the lighter, more rapid music that follows. Gardiner dovetails the contrasting textures of solo quartet and main choir most effectively. The fugal chorus, ‘Ich harre des Herrn’, is marvellously balanced, both in musical and emotional terms. I enjoyed van Rensburg’s shaping of the long expressive lines in the following aria, ‘Meine Seele wartet auf den Herrn von einer’ and the impressive chorus with which the cantata ends is splendidly articulated by all concerned. This whole performance is a tremendous success.
Then we hear two later cantatas, specifically written for the Fifth Sunday, where the Gospel for the day tells the story of Peter fishing all night without success yet, letting out his net one more time at the command of Jesus, he then hauls in a munificent catch (Luke, chapter 5 vv1-11). First comes BWV 93. The libretto avoids a specific reference to the gospel story until the tenor recitative (movement V). The extended opening chorus incorporates important contributions from the quartet of soloists. Kobie van Rensburg again attracts favourable attention in his aria ‘Man halte nur ein wenig stille’ (‘Remain silent for a while’). This aria is well described by Gardiner as an “elegant passepied” and I appreciate the touch of steel at the heart of van Rensburg’s plangent voice. Later, he has an important recitative and it’s good to find that he can bring a sense of drama and some effective word painting to a passage such as this. I also liked very much the alert, bright singing of Joanne Lunn in her aria ‘Ich will auf den Herren schaun’, where the oboe obbligato is an equal source of delight.
Finally comes BWV 88. This opens with a pretty unusual bass aria. At the start the libretto refers to God sending fishermen (“Behold, I will send out many fishermen, says the Lord”) and Bach responds with a wonderfully easeful, lilting barcarolle in 6/8 time. The grateful, elevated vocal line is meat and drink to Peter Harvey, who delivers it quite beautifully. Abruptly the mood changes (“And thereafter I will send out many hunters”), the pace quickens appreciably and Bach deploys, in Gardiner’s words, “a rampaging pair of high horns” in the orchestra. Harvey is impressive throughout.
There’s another chance to enjoy van Rensburg’s singing in this cantata. He makes a very good job of the aria ‘Nein, Gott ist allezeit geflissen’ (No, God is always eager that we be on the right path’) Later Joanne Lunn and William Towers blend most effectively in their duet. Gardiner tells us that the audience for this concert was “attentive and rapturous even by the standards of this pilgrimage” and no wonder, for on the evidence of these recordings the good people of Mühlhausen were treated to a splendid and most stimulating concert.
Yet again the standard of performance in these recordings is extremely high and the music is wonderful. Bach’s stream of invention and inspiration is a never-ending source of wonder. I’m also filled with renewed admiration for Sir John, who seems to have an inexhaustible capacity to say something fresh about this marvellous music each time he picks up either his pen to write the notes or his baton to direct the performances. This indispensable series goes from strength to strength.
-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International
A Celebration - Perkinson: Grass, Etc / Freeman, Et Al
This posthumous anthology consisting of selections from 50 years of work by composer Coleridge-Taylor Perkinson (1932?2004) includes six world premieres?that is to say, it took 50 years for this man?s lifetime output to be recognized. Perhaps that is not so shocking. After all, how easy was it for a black man in the 1950s to obtain a bachelor?s and master?s degree from Manhattan School of Music, and compose his first major work at the age of 22 within the confines of a segregated society? But Perkinson, the namesake of black British composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (1875?1912), didn?t consider himself generically a black composer. Whether or not he allowed himself to be typecast as an ethnic artist, Perkinson?s interpretation of white, WASP, and Western musical convention is spiked with vintage blues and jazz. His music is, therefore, in an uncanny and paradoxical way, the reverse of the cultural plundering associated with Gershwin?s and Dvo?ák?s musical appropriations. Consequently, if Perkinson?s music isn?t especially innovative, we shouldn?t be surprised that a victim of discrimination and ghettoization would not choose to further isolate himself by throwing 12-tone rows into the mix. After all, experimentation is the spawn of prosperity, not the privilege of the hardship.
Perkinson?s Sinfonietta No. 1 for strings, composed in 1955, might have been considered, if composed by a young Caucasian, the work of a wunderkind. The precocious piece is an homage to Bach, and throughout his life Perkinson returned to fugal writing as a religious rite of appreciation for the German master. Two years later, Perkinson began to infiltrate into his technique the echoes of his ancestor slaves. Quartet No. 1 , based on ?Calvary? (Negro Spiritual) weaves together the dualism of his segregated world into one lucid harmonious dream.
The next selection on the disc was composed 20 years later. One wonders what happened in the intervening years, though we know that Perkinson had the opportunity to work with Leonard Bernstein, Max Roach, Alvin Ailey, Jerome Robbins, Marvin Gaye, and Harry Belafonte. He also co-founded and conducted the Symphony of the New World. Blue/s Forms for solo violin (1972) is a deep reverie of black experience as seen through the filter of Paganiniesque writing. Sanford Allen plays it with tender feeling. Equally luscious is Lamentations, a black/folk song suite for solo cello, played by Tahirah Whittington.
Just before his death, Perkinson composed the last selection on the disc, Movement for String Trio. It is a profoundly sweet, sad, Barberesque self-requiem for a man who should have been heard, and one hopes will be heard now?though he won?t be here to enjoy the long overdue recognition.
FANFARE: David Wolman
Cellobration / Amit Peled, Eliza Ching
CELLOBRATION • Amit Peled (vc); Eliza Ching (pn) • CENTAUR 3047 (59:30)
MENDELSSOHN On Wings of Song , op. 34/2. DAVIDOFF At the Fountain, op. 20/2. ECCLES Cello Sonata in g. GRANADOS Spanish Dance, op. 37/No. 5, “Andaluza” (“Playera”). FAURÉ Elégie. LIGETI Sonata for Solo Cello . BACH Pastorella in F. GLAZUNOV Chant du Ménéstrel. F. COUPERIN Pièces en Concert. CASALS Song of the Birds
Here is a collection of works for cello and piano both familiar and unfamiliar. Among the familiar are Fauré’s popular Élégie —albeit better known in its orchestral setting—transcribed for cello and piano, and Mendelssohn’s On Wings of Song , originally an actual song for voice and piano, that has been arranged and transcribed many times (Liszt and Heifetz both had a crack at it). In the unfamiliar category are a cello sonata by the virtually unknown Henry Eccles (1670–1742)—an English Baroque musician who ended up a member of Louis XIV’s King’s Band—and practically everything else on the disc, which though well known to cellists and often recorded, are not your usual fare on recital programs, except perhaps as encore pieces.
The Israeli-born Amit Peled plays a c.1689 cello by Andrea Guarneri, updated and fitted to modern standards. This, as far as I can tell, is only Peled’s second CD; the first, released in 2009 (Centaur 2988) was titled The Jewish Soul , and consisted of Jewish themed works, though not all necessarily by Jewish composers. For example, it included Bruch’s ubiquitous Kol Nidrei.
The “discovery” on this new disc is the Eccles sonata. Very little is known about this obscure violinist/composer, other than that he was born in England, was the elder brother to a more successful sibling John, whose success over his own he resented. Peeved by his perceived neglect, he moved to Paris, where he got himself hired on at the King’s court. What music he did write was either adapted from works by the Italian composer Giuseppe Valentini (1681–1753) or heavily influenced by them. In 1732, Eccles published 12 sonatas for gamba and figured bass; but according to the booklet note, the G-Minor Sonata given on the present CD is a transcription from an earlier set of violin sonatas. It takes the form of a typical sonata da chiesa (slow, fast, slow, fast), and considering its model, the piece, not surprisingly, is in an Italian style similar to what you would expect to hear from Vivaldi. What is perhaps surprising is that for a composer as virtually unknown as Eccles, there are five listed recordings of this sonata, going all the way back to a 1930 violin version played by Jacques Thibaud.
Latvian-born and Russian-trained, Carl (Karl) Davidoff (1838–89) was one of the great cello virtuosos of the 19th century. Tchaikovsky hailed Davidoff as “the tsar of cellists,” and the two men were friends and associates through their mutual connection to the St. Petersburg Conservatory. Davidoff’s At the Fountain is a popular encore piece that has had several recordings, including ones by Pieter Wispelwey, Miklós Perényi, and Jan Vogler. How would I describe the piece? A Flight of the Honeybee for cello: a nice little A-B-A form in which the bee leaves the hive and busily buzzes about to gather nectar and pollinate the petals (A), tarries momentarily to make love to a flower (B), and assisted by a tailwind returns home to the hive faster than it left (A).
From the 12 Spanish Dances by Enrique Granados, Peled plays a cello arrangement of the most popular number in the set, the No. 5. Titled Andaluza in the composer’s original version for piano, the piece has alternately come to be called Playera . It can be heard on some 140 recordings in arrangements for guitar, violin, voice, and in its original piano version, including by the composer himself. Nor does Peled have the field all to himself on cello. The piece has been recorded by Alban Gerhardt and Jamie Walton. One can easily appreciate the great popularity of the piece. Its guitar-like strumming accompaniment provides the underpinning for an alluring melody in the style of a seguidilla, a folksong or dance of Castillian origin. Bizet drew upon the seguidilla for his aria “Près des ramparts de Séville” in Carmen.
György Ligeti’s Sonata for Cello Solo has also received its fair share of recordings, one of which in particular, with Matt Haimovitz on Deutsche Grammophon, is especially noteworthy. Not unlike Paul Kletzki, the Jewish-Hungarian Ligeti (1923–2006) also suffered at the hands of both the Nazis and the Soviet Communists. The sonata heard here did not receive its first performance until 1983, but it’s an early work dating from the composer’s Hungarian period. In only two movements, its first was written in 1948, when Ligeti was 25; its second movement, five years later in 1953. The piece is clearly influenced by Bartók and Kodály. Glissando chords and pizzicato punctuate a melancholy “Dialogo,” marked adagio , followed by a moto perpetuo Capriccio, marked presto con slancio , a real test of the player’s mettle.
Bach’s F-Major Pastorella was originally composed as a four-movement suite for organ. Only its opening movement is heard here, but Bach recycled its concluding Gigue as the closing movement to the Brandenburg Concerto No. 3. According to the booklet note, this arrangement by Pablo Casals, in a handwritten score, was acquired by the Beaux Arts Trio’s cellist, Bernard Greenhouse, and from him passed to Peled.
Glazunov’s Chant du Ménéstrel (Troubadour’s Song) is almost as popular, if you count numbers of recordings, as the Granados Playera . Frankly, it’s little more than a sentimental salon piece that happens to have been made famous by Beatrice Harrison, the British cellist who had the distinction of being Elgar’s handpicked player to make the official HMV recording of the composer’s Cello Concerto under his direction.
When it comes to the Couperin Pièces en Concert , I wish I could cite its provenance definitively, but unfortunately, neither the CD’s track listing nor the booklet note identifies the specific set of suites whence it comes. Even more curiously, other recordings of the work, as well as other references to it, are equally silent on the subject. Finally, by searching for a combination of Couperin and Bazelaire, the work’s arranger, I hit upon a program note from the 2002 Tyalgum (New South Wales) Festival that asserts that Bazelaire’s arrangement is a mixed-movement compilation drawn from Couperin’s Nouveaux Concerts published in 1724.
If you check ArkivMusic’s listing for the Casals piece under its English title, Song of the Birds , you will find only this one recording by Peled. But there are a couple of others listed under its Spanish title, El Cant dels Ocells . I’d have expected more, including one by the renowned cellist himself. The piece is an arrangement of a traditional Catalan folk song, which embodies, in Peled’s words, “a spiritual communication.”
I’ve said nothing about the Mendelssohn or Fauré pieces because they’re so well known there’s nothing to say.
By all evidence, Amit Peled is a superb cellist. His technical prowess in the Davidoff and Ligeti vouchsafe that; and his tone, of pellucid purity, gleams with a glint of gold in the slow, lyrical numbers. As an introduction to the artistry of this fine up-and-coming young artist, this album showcases his versatility in a wide range of repertoire. But now that Peled has produced two CDs of what are essentially arrangements, encore pieces, and lighter fare—except for the Eccles and Ligeti sonatas—I look forward to hearing him in some of the more substantial repertoire for his instrument. Pianist Eliza Ching has a somewhat lesser role to play in some of these numbers, but she carries out her role as accompanist admirably. Recorded sound is excellent. Recommended for an hour’s worth of canapés to whet the appetite; now bring on the main course.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Pieter Wispelwey - The Complete Channel Classics Recordings
Frederic Rosselet
Reger Collection
Brilliant Classics have celebrated the 150th Anniversary of Reger’s birth last year by expanding their Reger Collection of a decade ago from 11 to 18 CDs. Added to the original set, which presented Reger’s best known works – the glorious orchestral Böcklin Suite, the Mozart, Beethoven and Hiller Variations, the mighty piano and violin concertos, the beautiful clarinet quintet (not in the least inferior to Brahms’ masterpiece), the complete Chorale Fantasias for organ (Reger, an organist himself, wrote extensively and superbly for his instrument) and a fine selection of choral music – is a new set of chamber music including the Piano Trio, Flute-Violin-Viola Serenades, Clarinet–Piano Sonatas and other works, and Reger’s compositions for solo viola and for solo cello. The transparency of the chamber music genre particularly highlights the composer’s absolute mastery of counterpoint. Also new is an expanded keyboard section, with more works for the organ – so associated with Reger – including the Sonatas and Fantasy–Fugues, and a new solo piano CD recorded in 2023 by Eden Walker featuring Dreams by the Fireside and the Bach Variations and Fugue.
Lyrita - Celebrating Fifty Years Devoted To British Music - Set One
In Set One strong choices are made time after time. Alwyn’s Magic Island is in fact Prospero’s island - from The Tempest. The English Dances beguile and enchant. They are drawn from an LP and then from an extended CD which found Lyrita orchestral recording standards at their utter peak. The Russian Scenes are well done although ultimately they are a collection of exotic postcards and dances. The Benjamin Overture is a playful piece in the manner of the lighter examples by Barber and Bax. It comes as no surprise to discover that it was used as the overture to Benjamin’s opera Prima Donna. Berkeley’s crisp Serenade for Strings is presumably authoritative with the composer at the helm. Bliss conducting a suite from his Adam Zero seems underwhelming as music and as a performance - Handley’s version is much better. The delightful Bridge Suite for Strings is lovingly done by Boult. Similarly sumptuous and achingly poignant is A Shropshire Lad. Finzi’s Eclogue, Howells’ Merry-Eye and Hadley’s One Morning in Spring speak for themselves. The Forgotten Rite by John Ireland is a subtle, poetic and completely convincing piece. It’s interesting that this first set has only one bleeding chunk from a larger piece and that is the second movement of Busch’s Cello Concerto. The Cello Concerto is a strong work and makes quite a discovery among the rich crop of new Lyritas in 2008. Although issued on CD in the early 1990s the Foulds Mantras - of which we here have the Mantra of Bliss - is amongst the most radical and impressive. Then again Foulds was an extraordinary composer whose significance is international. Light music is represented by shapely performances of Coates’ From Meadow to Mayfair, Gibbs’ Fancy Dress and the Coleridge Taylor Valse. Fredman’s reading of the famous Delius Walk is to be treasured. He would have made an estimable Song of the High Hills had the opportunity been offered. Lyrita are the only label to provide Holst’s tangy Japanese Suite and, audaciously enough, it’s here in this set. From the 19th century comes Sterndale Bennett’s Caprice and the remarkable Variations on a Hungarian Air by Hurlstone. Henry Wood’s orchestration of the Bach Toccata and Fugue in D Minor was originally presented under a pseudonym, Paul Klenovsky. Oh how those Russian names legitimise British talent! Gipps’ Horn Concerto is played by the very talented David Pyatt. Would that Lyrita had also recorded her other concertos. Don’t forget her works for Clarinet (1940); Viola (Jane Grey Fantasy, 1940), Oboe (1941), Violin (1943), Piano (1948), Violin and Viola (1957) and Contra-Bassoon (Leviathan) and the five symphonies (1942, 1945, 1965, 1972, 1982). Names much associated with Cheltenham are represented by the Yorick overture, the Jabez and The Devil and the only recently vinyl-liberated Hoddinott Welsh Dances (Set 2).
- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International
Lyrita - Celebrating Fifty Years devoted to British Music - Set One
CD 1 [73:53]
William ALWYN Symphonic Prelude - The Magic Island - LPO/Alwyn [10:11]
Malcolm ARNOLD English Dances - Set 2 - LPO/Arnold [9:49]
Bach orch. Henry WOOD Toccata and Fugue in D Minor - LPO/Braithwaite [9:49]
Granville BANTOCK Russian Scenes - LPO/Wordsworth [14:13]
Arnold BAX Northern Ballad No.1 - LPO/Boult [10:09]
Arthur BENJAMIN Overture to an Italian Comedy - RPO/Fredman [6:17]
William Sterndale BENNETT Caprice in E - Malcolm Binns (piano) LPO/Braithwaite [13:17]
CD 2 [75:21]
Lennox BERKELEY Serenade for Strings - LPO/Berkeley [13:14]
Arthur BLISS Adam Zero - Suite - excerpt - LSO/Bliss [8:53]
Frank BRIDGE Suite for String Orchestra - LPO/Boult [20:50]
William BUSCH Cello Concerto (II) Raphael Wallfisch (cello) - RPO/Handley [6:51]
Geoffrey BUSH Overture - Yorick - NPO/Handley [8:30]
George BUTTERWORTH A Shropshire Lad Rhapsody - LPO/Boult [8:38]
Eric COATES From Meadow to Mayfair Suite (excerpt) - NPO/Boult [8:14]
CD 3 [74:28]
Samuel COLERIDGE-TAYLOR Valse de la Reine - LPO/Wordsworth [4:32]
Arnold COOKE Jabez and The Devil - Suite - LPO/Braithwaite [18:02]
Frederick DELIUS The Walk to the Paradise Garden - LPO/Fredman [10:53]
Gerald FINZI Eclogue Peter Katin (piano) - NPO/Handley [10:32]
John FOULDS Mantra of Bliss - LPO/Wordsworth [13:06]
Cecil Armstrong GIBBS Fancy Dress - Dance Suite - RPO/Joly [17:20]
CD 4 [67:58]
Ruth GIPPS Horn Concerto - David Pyatt (horn) LPO/Braithwaite [17:14]
Patrick HADLEY One Morning in Spring - LPO/Boult [3:56]
Alun HODDINOTT Welsh Dances Set 2 - NYOW/Davison [9:04]
Gustav HOLST Japanese Suite - LSO/Boult [11:01]
Herbert HOWELLS Merry-Eye - NPO/Boult [8:52]
William HURLSTONE Variations on a Hungarian Air - LPO/Braithwaite [10:36]
John IRELAND The Forgotten Rite - Prelude - LPO/Boult [7:05]
rec. 1966-2007. ADD/DDD
LYRITA SRCD.2337 [4 CDs: 73:53 + 75:21 + 74:28 + 67:58]
Songbook / Jan Vogler, Ismo Eskelinen
"Songbook" presents partly pieces originally written for cello and guitar such as 3 Nocturnes by Friedrich Burgmüller (1806-1874) and the first movement of the Sonata for Guitar and Cello by Brazilian composerRadamés Gnattali (1906-1988).
"Songbook" also features several famous works in arrangements for guitar and cello: Cantabile by Niccolò Paganini (1782-1840), the Gymnopédie No. 1 by Erik Satie (1866-1925), the Suite Popular Española byManuel de Falla (1876-1946) as well as the famous Aria from Bachianas Brasileiras by the most famous South American composer Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887-1959). The arrangement of Paganini's Cantabile appears on this album as a world premiere recording on guitar and cello. Also the Gymnopédie No. 1 by Satie is newly arranged for this recording by Jan Vogler himself.
The album also includes several movements from Histoire du Tango - one of the most famous compositions by the world's foremost composer of tango music, Astor Piazzolla (1921-1992). One of these movements, Bordel 1900, is as well a world premiere recording on guitar and cello.
Another first recording on this album is the arrangement of a world famous hit, Moon River by Henry Mancini (1924-1994). Winning an Academy Award for Best Original Song, Moon River has been indeed covered and recorded in hundreds of versions; but it's arrangement for cello and guitar has been recorded for the first time by Vogler and Eskelinen for this album.
Fred Lerdahl, Vol. 4
Volume 4 of Bridge’s Fred Lerdahl series offers music composed over a span of four decades. Three recent pieces, Spirals, Three Diatonic Studies, and Imbrications, are recorded here for the first time and two earlier works, Wake and Fantasy Etudes, are re-issues. Spirals is scored for an orchestra of double woodwinds, two horns, two trumpets, percussion, piano, and strings. The two movements are of equal length, the first fast and brilliant, the second slow and lyrical. Three Diatonic Studies originated in a commission from the Irving S. Gilmore International Keyboard Festival to write a variation based on the “Aria” of Bach’s Goldberg Variations. Lerdahl later added two other diatonic studies to form the present suite. The brief Imbrications was written in 2001 in honor of the composer Andrew Imbrie’s 80th birthday. The inspiration for Wake came from James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake. The work was composed at the request of the legendary soprano Bethany Beardslee and was composed while Lerdahl was in residence at the Marlboro Music Festival. Lerdahl composed Fantasy Etudes in 1985. The piece is in one movement and is scored, like Imbrications, for flute, clarinet, violin, cello, percussion, and piano. The stunning performance here is by three-time Grammy-winning ensemble, eighth blackbird. Fred Lerdahl’s music is highly esteemed for having developed original harmonic syntaxes and formal processes, presented with expressive depth.
Schicklele: A Year In The Catskills / Wang, Rose, Blair Woodwind Quintet
SCHICKELE A Year in the Catskills. Gardens 1. What Did You Do Today at Jeffrey’s House 2. Dream Dances 3. Diversions • Blair Wind Qnt members; 1,2 Melissa Rose (pn); 3 Felix Wang (vc) • NAXOS 8.559687 (52:03)
The Blair Wind Quintet is a faculty ensemble of the Blair School of Music of Vanderbilt University. Though a woodwind player myself, I am not familiar with their work, so this release, the second on which this ensemble appears, is a pleasant introduction to these fine musicians. Their performances here are mostly solo and in smaller groupings, with only the title work, A Year in the Catskills, played by the whole quintet. This last is one of a trio of works for resident ensembles funded by the Blair Commissioning Project. Peter Schickele’s quintet was joined by a piano trio from Susan Botti and a string quartet by György Kurtág; one can but imagine what a wildly incongruent faculty recital that could have made.
Schickele is, of course, best known in his persona of the researcher and exhumer of works by “the youngest and oddest of J. S. Bach’s 20-odd children.” Since 1965, the year of his first public concert, he has created a body of entertaining musical parodies of familiar musical forms for his fictional P. D. Q. Bach. There is another aspect of the composer, though, as many will know. Under his own name, he composes concert works for orchestra, chorus, chamber ensembles, and vocalists, as well as scores for film, theater, and television. This disc presents a nice sampling of pieces for wind instruments, written over a 46-year period. They cross boundaries of genre and style with consummate skill, and are uniformly clever, lightweight, and charming. Even when fleetingly serious, they are never more than melancholy. They are more often humorous. In fact, minus the more obvious burlesquing that goes on in a P. D. Q. Bach pastiche, his serious works sound remarkably akin to his comedic bread and butter. The unexpected instrumental colors are a bit more subdued, the odd cadence more integrated, and the stylistic incongruities less outrageous. What is played for laughs when acting The Professor is quirky and playful in the realm of the serious composer, but the singular identity can never be in question.
Consider the four seasonal portraits of A Year in the Catskills (2009), presented in Baroque canons and a fantasy, and rounded out with a fifth movement called “Fast Driving,” which bebops the listener back to more modern urban surroundings. Or What Did You Do Today at Jeffrey’s House? (1988) for horn and piano, which remembers childhood games (one is relieved to learn, given his compositional credits for O! Calcutta! ) with a piano-stride parade and a boogie-woogie carnival with dancing bears framing a very brief compulsory nap. Finally, there is Dream Dances (1988), a suite for flute, oboe, and cello, which juxtaposes a not very Baroque minuet and sarabande with a jitterbug, a demented French gallop, and a waltz that only needs John Ferrante and some silly lyrics to become one of the Diverse Ayres on Sundrie Notions.
The two remaining earlier works give some idea of where Schickele might have headed if the fictional “minimeister of Wein-am-Rhein” had not been such a huge success. In these we hear a composer still working in academia, creating works that reflect seriously (well, all right, more seriously) on relatively contemporary styles. Gardens (1968) for oboe and piano is an atmospheric triptych with overtones of Messiaen, though this is more obvious in New York Philharmonic oboist Joseph Robinson’s recording on Cala. Diversions (1963) for oboe, clarinet, and bassoon channels neoclassical Stravinsky in portraits of the bath, a game of billiards, and a New York bar. It is all very engaging, and wonderfully presented by musicians and engineers. Naxos has a winner here, and I hope we hear more from the Blair Wind Quintet. Meanwhile, woodwind fanciers are hereby alerted to a must-buy release.
FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames
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It is a good and joyful thing to see a nice collection of Peter Schickele’s concert music. Not that he is unduly famous for his P.D.Q. Bach character, but as a composer of serious music he shines as one of the most original voices of his generation. Schickele has not invented a new wheel, rather he has managed to take traditional musical gestures and season them with his own invention with the skill of a master chef. This collection of chamber music, deftly rendered by members of the faculty of Vanderbilt’s Blair School of Music, is a showcase of the composer’s unique wit and creativity.
Commissioned by the Blair Quintet, A Year in the Catskills was brand new at the time of this recording. It is a picturesque work; full of the kind of interesting twists of melody that make Schickele’s music so fascinating. He is prone to shifting one or two notes in a tune by a semitone here or a semitone there to make what could sound quite ordinary into something that is unique and quirky.
The brief triptych Gardens, for oboe and piano is a study in colors. One of Schickele’s outstanding features is his ability to say so much in a very short time. I wouldn’t call him a miniaturist, but he can get his point across with little fuss. Such are these elegant little pieces that depict a garden at the three parts of the day. Jared Hauser plays with a sweet unforced tone, and is sensitively accompanied by pianist Melissa Rose.
What Did You Do Today at Jeffrey’s House? is a bit of nostalgia based on memories of the composer’s playtime with a childhood friend. These are whimsical pieces, pulling from a number of styles including a rollicking boogie-woogie ending. Scored for horn and piano, Leslie Norton and Melissa Rose find all the charm of these brief episodes. I can’t say that I was completely in love with the pieces themselves, as they came across to these ears as a bit contrived.
The outstanding work in this recital is the lovely set of Dream Dances. Scored for flute, oboe and cello, Schickele combines the old and the new by creating a suite that is reminiscent of a Baroque partita, but just for fun he throws in the semi-modern by replacing the Courrant with a Jitterbug and the Allemande with a Waltz. It is pretty much genius really, and Jane Kirschner, Jared Hauser and Felix Wang deliver an elegant performance full of wit.
Diversions, scored for oboe, clarinet and bassoon are again whimsical, and depict three specific scenes, a hot bath, a billiard game, and a New York bar. Although I felt that the composer captured his scenes well, I can’t say that I was particularly moved by these little snapshots, in spite of their being very well played.
Peter Schickele is reported to be one of the most performed composers in America, and it is easy to see why. The term accessible gets too much airplay, but his music is almost always captivating, mainly due to his double ability to color within the lines while choosing shades that don’t come from just any box of crayons. A good listen.
Colorful, original, whimsical, and adventuresome, this collection of musical short stories from one of America’s most diverse composers has something to please every ear.
-- Kevin Sutton, MusicWeb International
Ave Maria / Aarburg, Lang, Clement, Zurcher Sangerknaben
We learn from the booklet accompanying this disc that the Zurich Boys’ Choir was founded in 1960 by its present conductor, Alphons von Aarburg. It is not attached to any church or school, but the boys meet to rehearse several times each week as well as participating in a “singing camp” during the school holidays. The disc was recorded some fifteen years ago, but the choir is still going strong, and indeed celebrates its fiftieth anniversary this year, still with the same conductor.
A glance at the program will confirm that this is a collection of contemplative music. There is a certain sameness of atmosphere as the program progresses, and the attentive listener will probably wish for a bit more variety. I hesitate to recommend it as background listening, so let me say instead that the mood it creates is more suited to quiet reflection than to undivided attention.
The programme is an interesting and inventive mix of well known and lesser known pieces. It opens with one of the best known of all, the famous Bach and Gounod joint effort. The notes seem to be suggesting that Gounod’s original adaptation of Bach’s Prelude was scored for harp, organ and solo violin, and though this was news to me there seems little reason to doubt it. The present performance adds a solo cello and two vocal parts, and may be a later version by Gounod himself, or indeed a hybrid concoction by the present performers. Either way, the opening notes from the harp come as a surprise, as do the two string soloists when they get in on the act. The soloist, Daniel Perrer, is excellent, and the choir sings perfectly well, but the scoring adds extra sweetener to an already sugary exercise. The cello and harp put in another appearance in Franck’s Panis angelicus, along with the organ, and whilst this may be a bona fide composer’s version - the choir in several parts in the canonic second verse - the effect is romantic and indulgent in a piece which can be very affecting when given simply.
Panis angelicus features some very pleasing solo tenor singing from Frieder Lang, and indeed his presence is one of the strong points of this collection. He is ably supported by the children in Franck’s rather lovely Ave Maria, and he turns in a most sensitive performance of an Ave Maria by Tosti. Another solo Ave Maria, by Arcadelt this time, is certainly beautifully sung, though the authentic performance purists might quibble at one or two stylistic points. I think they might not be totally satisfied with Schütz from Zurich either, at least not in 1995, rhythmically stolid and altogether too smooth for comfort.
The program features a masterpiece or two, not least the two sublime Bruckner motets. Ave Maria is given a good performance, as is Virgo Jesse, though to my ears the boys do not supply anything like the passion in the soprano line that both pieces require. Most adult choirs find it easier to provide this, and a group such as the Westminster Cathedral Choir manage to find both passion and restraint, a heady mixture. There are one or two slightly uncertain attacks in the upper register here too, and, for this listener, some unpleasant staccato and accented final syllables on the word “hallelujah”. In the Verdi piece, and judged by the standards of the finest children’s choirs, intonation is not always spot-on.
Reger’s lullaby, given in a two-part version unfamiliar to me, and again accompanied by the harp, is a particular pleasure. The Mozart, at a reasonably flowing tempo, goes as far as most performances in avoiding the morose atmosphere which can so easily invade this glorious piece. The harp appears again, along with the organ, in Schubert’s Ave Maria. The young Daniel Perrer again sings beautifully, but this really doesn’t sound much like Schubert. Then, that’s not the point of the disc, which will bring much pleasure to those who enjoy this kind of program.
-- William Hedley, MusicWeb International
John Barbirolli: Complete RCA & Columbia Album Collection
The young John Barbirolli was hardly known in America when the New York Philharmonic-Symphony Orchestra chose him to be Arturo Toscanini’s successor starting in 1937. The 36-year-old Londoner’s first season was a triumph with both players and audiences, and although his years in New York would be increasingly marred by unfair rivalry with Toscanini – lured back to lead a specially created NBC Symphony – and by partisan hostility from two influential critics, Barbirolli’s tenure can now be looked back on as a real success.
From 1938 until 1943, when he returned to the UK to take over Manchester’s Hallé Orchestra, Sir John made a series of recordings in New York for American Columbia and RCA Victor which are still essential for a full appreciation of this revered conductor’s career, “performances that are as competitive today as they were when initially released” (Fanfare). Sony Classical is pleased to reissue them in a newly remastered six-CD set.
Among the treasures here are Debussy’s Iberia and Tchaikovsky’s Francesca da Rimini (both recorded in 1938) and the first-ever recording of Schubert’s Fourth (“Tragic”) Symphony (from 1939), together cited by Gramophone as “a demonstration that the Philharmonic-Symphony had few rivals in the world at the time as a recording orchestra … A forceful, high-powered reading [of the symphony] which yet has a Schubertian smile … The crisp attack in the Tchaikovsky, even tauter than in Barbirolli’s superb 1969 HMV New Philharmonia version, is thrillingly caught. The Debussy brings the most vivid sound of all, weighty and full of presence, with castanets and brass leaping out from the speakers. This is a white-hot performance, every bit as exciting as those of Toscanini, and with a moving vein of tenderness in the slow second movement.”
There are several works by Mozart, among them the Clarinet Concerto with Benny Goodman (from 1940) and the Symphony No. 25 and Piano Concerto No. 27 with Robert Casadesus (both from 1941). The Piano Concerto’s opening Allegro “is beautifully shaped with an almost palpable sense of wonder in the music and the pianist is definitely having a ball of time,” said Classical Net. “The final Allegro is also very commendable for its grand sense of pomp and majesty … The exquisite symphony also receives wonderful attention and care from Barbirolli and the NYPSO. Here one can sense the conductor's love for Mozart’s inspired melodies … Benny Goodman is a characterful interpreter of the Clarinet Concerto.”
“The generous flavor of Barbirolli’s Brahms comes through in the Academic Festival Overture and the Second Symphony [both from 1940],” wrote Audiophile Audition’s reviewer. “The Overture is rife with ceremonial grandeur and jolly spirits. The D major Symphony has a debonair airiness and bucolic relaxation about it.” And Sibelius’s First Symphony (from 1942) “should delight fans of Barbirolli’s 1960s complete traversal of the symphonies … The conductor’s warmth, vision, and emotional urgency has lost none of its appeal in the more than half century that has passed” (Fanfare).
Also from 1942 is Nathan Milstein playing the Bruch Concerto with “the Philharmonic-Symphony in tremendous form,” exclaimed MusicWeb International’s critic. “Barbirolli opens powerfully and Milstein responds in kind; not over emoted and with vibrato perfectly scaled to the demands of the music. He is really quite withdrawn and introspective in the Adagio, powerfully so indeed, and Barbirolli brings out the horn harmonies in a way that seems to reveal them for the first time. There is romantic fervour but also passagework clarity and digital cleanliness in the finale … a model of concerto accompaniment and creative collaboration.”
CONTENTS
DISC 1:
Purcell (arr. Barbirolli): Suite for Strings, Woodwind and Horns (Remastered)
Debussy: Images pour orchestre, L. 122: No. 2, Iberia (Remastered)
Tchaikovsky: Francesca da Rimini, Op. 32 (Remastered)
Respighi: Antiche danze et arie per liuto, Suite No.3 (Remastered)
Respighi: Fontane di Roma (Remastered)
DISC 2:
Schubert: Symphony No. 4 in C Minor, D. 417, "Tragic" (Remastered)
Schubert: 5 German Dances, D. 89 (Remastered)
Brahms: Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 73 (Remastered)
DISC 3:
Sibelius: Symphony No. 1 in E Minor, Op. 39 (Remastered)
Sibelius: Symphony No. 2 in D Major, Op. 43 (Remastered)
DISC 4:
Smetana: The Bartered Bride, JB 1:100: Overture (Remastered)
Rimsky-Korsakov: Capriccio espagnol, Op. 34 (Remastered) with Mishel Piastro, violin & Joseph Schuster, cello
Ravel: La valse, M. 72 (Remastered)
Berlioz: Roman Carnival Overture, Op. 9 (Remastered)
Brahms: Academic Festival Overture, Op. 80 (Remastered)
Debussy: Petite Suite, L. 65, No. 4 "Ballet" (Remastered)
Debussy: Première rhapsodie, L. 116 (Remastered) with Benny Goodman, clarinet
Bach, J.S. (arr. Barbirolli): Sheep May Safely Graze, BWV 208, No. 9 (Remastered)
DISC 5:
Mozart: Clarinet Concerto in A Major, K. 622 with Benny Goodman, clarinet
Mozart: Piano Concerto No. 27 in B-Flat Major, K. 595 (Remastered) with Robert Casadesus, piano
Mozart: Symphony No. 25 in G Minor, K. 183 (Remastered)
DISC 6:
Bruch: Violin Concerto No. 1 in G Minor, Op. 26 (Remastered) with Nathan Milstein, violin
Tchaikovsky: Suite No. 3 in G Major, Op. 55: IV. Tema con variazioni. Andante con moto (Remastered)
Various (arr. Barbirolli): An Elizabethan Suite (Remastered)
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REVIEW:
It is surely no coincidence that this retrospective set is released in the 50th anniversary year of Sir John Barbirolli’s death. It focuses on almost all – but not quite all – of Barbirolli’s recordings with his Philharmonic-Symphony Orchestra of New York, here updated to ‘New York Philharmonic’. The missing item is the Schumann Violin Concerto with Menuhin, the rights of which now lie with Warner. The inclusion of Bach's Sheep May Safely Graze is very welcome here, and as Leonard Slatkin showed in his Bach ‘Conductors’ Transcriptions’ album, it’s a most effective and affecting piece of work.
The first of the six well-filled discs disinters Barbirolli’s arrangements of Purcell. The six-movement Suite proves memorably sonorous and full bloodied with highlights being Fairest Isle and When I am Laid in Earth. This is followed by a splendidly recorded and vividly played Iberia with the Victor engineers on top form, and Francesca da Rimini. Respighi’s The Fountains of Rome and the Arie di corte from the Ancient Airs and Dances are similarly charged.
The Schubert Fourth on Disc 2 - the first recording of the work ever made - is tremendously impressive: powerful, lyrical, excellently controlled. Brahms’ Second Symphony however is exceptionally fast – not a criticism that could ever be levelled at the older JB – and if one thinks that Monteux in San Francisco in 1945 was fleetness itself that would be to reckon without Barbirolli. The Allegretto is uncomfortable to listen to and in fact the whole performance is unconvincing on a number of levels.
Sibelius comes to the rescue in disc three where there are memorable recordings of the First Symphony (1942) and the Second (1940). Sibelius was a known Barbirolli strength but his tempi in the 1950s with the Hallé are predictably more driven than those he took in the following decade. If sound quality is king then the Hallé recordings from the 60s are preferable but interpretively the 1957 First and the 1952 Second – along with the famous RPO Second – are indispensable, along with these two New York recordings.
The fourth CD is a bits-and-pieces affair. There’s lusty Smetana, a brightly recorded but idiomatically played Rimsky Capriccio espagnole, and La Valse which faced predictably strong competition on disc from Munch and Monteux. If the string tone in Le Carnaval romain is a touch acidic, the Academic Festival Overture is more rounded, and the performance a strong B plus. Benny Goodman joins for a timbrally distinctive Debussy First Rhapsody. There’s more Goodman in the penultimate disc where he plays Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto. Casadesus and Barbirolli make a fine team in Mozart’s Concerto No. 27. Symphony No.25 completes this all-Mozart disc; athletic, youthful and vibrant.
Nathan Milstein’s excellent Bruch G minor heads the final disc and whilst the recording is not top-drawer, Milstein’s playing is. Tchaikovsky’s Tema con variazioni from the Orchestral Suite No.3 is slightly cut. Finally, we end with Barbirolli’s An Elizabethan Suite, his arrangements of Byrd, Farnaby, and Bull, a synchronous way to end given that the first piece of the first disc was his Purcell arrangement.
Each disc is housed in a retro, 78rpm album sleeve and the booklet is filled with 78 and subsequent LP sleeves – very colourful and tactile – as well as job and recording sheets from the sessions and black and white photographs of Barbirolli.
This box is a finely produced and concentrated focus on Barbirolli’s New York shellac years and comes with a fair-minded, level-headed booklet note from James H North.
– MusicWeb International (Jonathan Woolf)
ROMANTIC RECITAL
Tabakova: Orchestral Works & Concerti / Lazarova, Johnston, Rysanov, The Hallé
This album marks the culmination of two special Hallé collaborations and includes four major pieces from one of the most distinctive of current British compositional voices. Delyana Lazarova (Hallé Assistant Conductor 2020-23) and composer Dobrinka Tabakova (Hallé Artist in Residence 2022-23) were both born in the historic city of Plovdiv, Bulgaria. Working together for the first time during their time with the orchestra they formed a strong musical connection in which the Hallé musicians displayed a close understanding of the intricacies and dialect of Tabakova’s musical language. This album contains two of Tabakova’s major orchestral works. The three-part Earth Suite, which the composer says was inspired by ‘the overwhelming force of Nature’, recently drew ‘exquisite playing’ from the Hallé (Bachtrack, April 2023).
Orpheus Comet features fast rhythmic material combined with atmospheric transparent orchestrations and a glorious climax featuring quotations from Monteverdi. The two significant concertos for strings and soloists included on this album solidified Tabakova’s reputation as an outstanding contemporary voice and display the composer’s close affinity with string instruments. Ukrainian-British Maxim Rysanov, is one of Tabakova’s longest collaborators who premiered the Concerto for Viola and Strings in 2004, a piece described as being ’saturated with an inner, captivating and natural energy’ (Culture Magazine, Nov 2004). The Concerto for Cello and Strings (whose score was described as ‘gorgeous’ by the Daily Telegraph, Australia) is here performed by Guy Johnson, one of the most exciting British cellists of his generation.
Prokofiev: Quartets No 1 & 2, Visions Fugitives / Quartetto Energie Nova
PROKOFIEV String Quartets: No. 1 in b; No. 2 in F. Visions fugitives (arr. S. Samsonov) • Energie Nove Qrt • DYNAMIC 726 (69:31)
The Italian label Dynamic seems to be re-energizing itself (pun intended) with a roster of new and unfamiliar artists. First it was a recording of Bach’s French Suites with a harpsichordist new to Fanfare , Alessandra Artifoni, reviewed elsewhere in this issue; and now we have a similarly unfamiliar string quartet ensemble billing itself Quartetto Energie Nove, which, like Artifoni, has neither an official website nor any other recordings I could find. The ensemble’s rep agency, Suavis Artists, does however, have a bio-blurb about the group, and I stumbled upon a YouTube entry of a complete performance by the ensemble of Beethoven’s “Harp” Quartet, op. 74, which sounds very promising. Energie Nove’s makeup is international—Russian, German, and Italian—but all four musicians play on neutral territory, being members of Switzerland’s Orchestra della Svizzera Italiano. Familiar names, such as Salvatore Accardo, Tibor Varga, Franco Gulli, and Valentin Berlinsky (long-time cellist of the Borodin Quartet), figure prominently in Energie Nove’s training.
To repeat what I’ve said many times before, we are blessed to be living in a golden age of string playing, and the Quartetto Energie Nove is but yet another manifestation of our blessings. Most performances of Prokofiev’s First String Quartet start off with an appropriately jaunty stride of cockeyed optimism. But Energie Nove’s players spring forth, jack-in-the-box like, with a mischievous alacrity. Their first movement timing, 6:39, leaves the St. Petersburg Quartet (on Delos), at 7:43, in the dust. They’re even faster than the Emerson Quartet at 7:05 and the Chilingrian Quartet (on Chandos) at 7: 01.
In the Andante , the timings are reversed, with Energie Nove being slightly slower and more probing than any of the above-cited three versions, while in the last movement—the one Prokofiev himself arranged for string orchestra—Energie Nove’s timing is very close to the others, but its playing is sharper edged. The effect, to recall the previous pun, is to energize the music in a way I’ve not heard it played before. Admittedly, I’ve not heard the recent version by the Pavel Haas Quartet on Supraphon, which was very highly rated by Boyd Pomeroy in 33:6 and Want Listed by Bart Verhaeghe in 34:2.
Prokofiev was close to 40 when he wrote his first of only two string quartets in 1930. The work was commissioned by the Library of Congress, where it was first performed the following year. The composer’s Second Quartet, in F Major, was written a decade later and under very different circumstances. By 1941, Prokofiev was back in Moscow, but not for long. When the Nazis invaded the Soviet Union, he, along with several other artists the government deemed “high value” assets, was whisked away to the safety of Nalchik, a town some 900 miles south of Moscow. It was here that the composer was asked (ordered, would be more accurate) to write a string quartet based on the Karbadino-Balkar folk tunes and rhythms of the indigenous tribal peoples of this North Caucasus region.
One would think that having to produce a work on-demand like that would not motivate a composer to his best efforts, but Prokofiev became quite intrigued by the native folk music he’d been directed to incorporate into his new quartet, and he ended up composing a very attractive and, in some ways, more emotionally stirring score than that of his First Quartet. Again, Energie Nove plays with consummate technical authority and real feeling for the music’s folk idioms.
Prokofiev’s Visions fugitives , 20 short pieces the composer wrote for piano between 1915 and 1917, performed here in an arrangement for string quartet by Sergei Samsonov, is perhaps a bit of an odd choice as a complement to the two string quartets, but the sad fact (our loss) is that Prokofiev didn’t really compose much chamber music. These two string quartets, a Quintet for mixed winds and strings, a couple of sonatas for violin and piano, a Sonata for cello and piano, a Sonata for two violins, and a Sextet, better known as Overture on Hebrew Themes , are about the extent of it, unless one counts a few miscellaneous pieces for violin and piano and for cello and piano. Though the Visions fugitives string quartet arrangement is not in Prokofiev’s hand, it makes more sense to me as a disc filler than does the Emerson Quartet’s choice of the two-violin sonata—the identical program offered by the Pavel Haas Quartet—or the St. Petersburg Quartet’s choice of a not very appealing 1985 string quartet by Georgian composer Zurab Nadarejshvili. And Energie Nove’s choice is certainly preferable to the Chilingrian Quartet’s filler on Chandos, which is nothing, a 43-minute disc I’m now retiring from my collection.
I’m hoping to hear a lot more from Quartetto Energie Nove in the future. Meanwhile, this new Prokofiev offering is strongly recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Rheinberger: Complete Organ Concertos / Stefan Johannes Bleicher
RHEINBERGER Organ Concertos: No. 1 in F; No. 2 in g. 3 Pieces for Cello and Organ • Stefan Johannes Bleicher (org); Douglas Boyd, cond; Musikkollegium Winterthur; Cäcilia Chmel (vc) • MDG 1643 (SACD: 57:58)
Josef Rheinberger (1839–1901) is frequently named alongside Max Bruch, Karl Goldmark, Robert Fuchs, and Carl Reinecke when mention is made of late 19th- to early 20th-century German Romantic composers who cultivated an essentially conservative style influenced by the Mendelssohn-Schumann-Brahms-Joachim axis. Budding composers from abroad, including America, flocked to Germany to study under these men and to have bestowed upon them the mantle of a proper German pedigree. In Leipzig, Reinecke could claim Grieg, Sinding, Svendsen, Janá?ek, and Weingartner among his students; while in Munich, Rheinberger could name Humperdinck, Parker, Chadwick, Wolf-Ferrari, Thuille, and Furtwängler among those he instructed.
Rheinberger’s instrument was the organ, a fact that’s hard to ignore based on his vast output in which the organ plays a dominant role. Yet, in his entire voluminous catalog—the solo organ pieces alone occupy 12 CDs—the two concertos on this disc are the only concerted works I’m aware of that he wrote for organ and orchestra. The mind leaps immediately to the similar compositions by Rheinberger’s French contemporaries Widor and Guilmant, but the reality is that Rheinberger’s concertos are in a more classical mold and of a thematic content somewhat similar to the chorale-like melodic and harmonic manner of Saint-Saëns. Oddly, as well, there are not a few passages that seem to anticipate the sort of ceremonial hubbub and pageantry one hears in Elgar’s soon-to-be pomp and circumstance mode. Rheinberger’s concertos, however, predate the earliest of Elgar’s coronation marches by 17 and seven years, respectively.
The Concerto No. 1, dated 1884, two years before Saint-Saëns’s brilliant “Organ” Symphony, is modestly orchestrated for three horns (or two horns and bassoon) and strings, with the organ filling in for the absent winds. Scoring in the Concerto No. 2 of 10 years later isn’t much augmented, but to the earlier ensemble Rheinberger adds two trumpets and timpani, so that the organ must still furnish the sonorities that would ordinarily be supplied by flutes, oboes, and clarinets. If the Second Concerto finds its voice somewhere between Saint-Saëns and Elgar, the First Concerto reaches a bit further back, perhaps to Mendelssohn and Schumann.
These are not hard works to like. They’re tuneful, spirited, and engaging enough that one doesn’t miss the fuller symphonic approach that Saint-Saëns took to the orchestra or the more variegated splashes of color Widor and Guilmant drew from their Cavaillé-Coll and French organs.
There are two or three more recordings of these works available than I find reviewed in the Fanfare Archive. In 23:6, John Bauman covered a Classico release featuring organist Ulrik Spang-Hansen with the Chamber Philharmonic of Bohemia led by Douglas Bostock; while in 28:5, James Reel readdressed a Capriccio recording that had originally been reviewed in 16:2 and was recycled in SACD format with the rear channels presumably artificially processed. That disc featured organist Andreas Juffinger with Harmut Haenchen conducting the Berlin RSO. Not reviewed, as far as I can tell, are recordings by Ulrich Meldau with Daniel Schweizer presiding over the Zurich Symphony Orchestra on the Motette label, and a more recent Naxos version by organist Paul Skevington with Timothy Rowe leading the Amadeus Chamber Ensemble. Of these several editions, the only one I have for comparison purposes is the Juffinger in its “enhanced” SACD incarnation.
The Capriccio booklet has nothing to say about the organ, though the recording was made in Berlin’s Jesus-Christus-Kirche, so I assume the instrument to be of German, Swiss, or Dutch pedigree, but for the concertos the new MDG recording is to be preferred. Newly recorded in February 2010, the disc is in true surround format. Full-page specifications are given on Winterthur’s historic Stadrkirche organ built by E. F. Walcker in 1887–88 and restored in 1980–84 by the Swiss firm currently doing business as Kuhn Organ Builders, Ltd. And MDG’s Bleiche and Boyd are considerably more animated than Capriccio’s Juffinger and Haenchen in every movement of both concertos, delivering performances that are crisply articulated and in which the organ and orchestra are beautifully integrated.
MDG’s bonus is three pieces— Abendlied, Pastorale, and Elegie —Rheinberger transcribed for cello and organ from a set of six pieces he’d originally written for violin and organ at the dual requests of church organist Johann Georg Herzog and the composer’s publisher, August Robert Froberg. Adagio meditation-type pieces for a solo string instrument accompanied by organ were rarities, if indeed they existed at all at the time. Rheinberger’s contributions are exactly what you would expect—the musical equivalent of votive candles flickering in the transepts. Cellist Cäcilia Chmel plays prayerfully enough, but the angels remain frozen in their friezes, unmoved by Rheinberger’s entreaties.
Definitely recommended for enjoyable, if not great, music, fine performances, and superb recording. I will not, however, be throwing away my Juffinger and Haenchen on Capriccio for the simple reason that it includes Rheinberger’s Suite for Violin and Organ, op. 166, a lovely neobaroquish affair that echoes with distant strains of Bach, Handel, and Corelli, and is a more substantial and preferable alternative to the three cello pieces on the current disc.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Siesta - Ibert, Ravel, Piazzolla, Etc / Petri, Hannibal
FANFARE: Robert Schulslaper
Di Vittorio: Sinfonias No 1 "isolation" And No 2 "lost Innocence" / Chamber Orchestra Of New York
DI VITTORIO Overtura Respighiana 1. Symphony No. 2, “Lost Innocence 1.” Ave Maria 2. Symphony No. 1, “Isolation 1.” Clarinet Sonata No. 1 3 • 1,2 Salvatore Di Vittorio, cond; 2 Respighi Choir; 3 Benjamin Baron (cl); 1 New York “Ottorino Respighi” CO • NAXOS 8572333 (56:52)
RESPIGHI Aria for Strings. Violin Concerto in A. Suite for Strings. Rossiniana: Suite • Salvatore Di Vittorio, cond; Laura Marzadori (vn); New York “Ottorino Respighi” CO • NAXOS 8572332 (77:32)
If Palermo-born Salvatore Di Vittorio (b.1967) is new to you (as he is to me), based on these two Naxos releases you might be justified in thinking he’s a third-generation relation to Italian composer Ottorino Respighi. That’s because as a conductor, Di Vittorio leads an ensemble he founded and named “Ottorino Respighi” Chamber Orchestra of New York in a program of works by Respighi. As an arranger, he revised and/or completed three of the works heard on the second of these two discs. And as a composer, Di Vittorio has been hailed as a “lyrical romantic … following in the footsteps of Respighi.” Though a reading of Di Vittorio’s biography on his website (salvatoredivittorio.com/bio.html) discloses no direct link to the former composer, it appears that Respighi is near and dear to Di Vittorio’s heart.
In a sense, you might say that in at least one of his compositions, Overtura Respighiana , Di Vittorio has channeled Respighi to write music that the real Respighi might have written himself, for the piece is a devilishly delightful concoction that plays on Respighi’s Rossiniana and Pines of Rome , fusing them with references to Di Vittorio’s own music, to create a kind of freshly minted Boutique fantasque.
The Symphony No. 2, titled “Lost Innocence,” on the other hand, does not, as far as I can tell, quote anything by Respighi, but the brilliant swatches of instrumental color Di Vittorio weaves into and through this striking musical tapestry is reminiscent of Respighi’s way with the orchestral palette. Di Vittorio tells us that the work was inspired by the tragedy of the Yugoslav civil wars in the late 1990s. Its four movements—“Requiem for a Child,” “Dance of Tears,” “Childheart,” and “Elegy: Marcia Funebre”—at least up until the finale, reflect a calm that is neither quiet nor peaceful, but one that builds toward a shattering, tragic ending.
The Ave Maria for a cappella women’s chorus is one of Di Vittorio’s conservatory works, written in 1995 (revised in 1998) after graduating from the Manhattan School of Music. At first it struck my ear as fairly dissonant, sounding almost like it could have been written by Penderecki, Lutos?awski, or Vasks, but as the piece unfolded, emerging from the harmonic counterpoint were passages that, with just a few minor adjustments to the voice-leading, sounded as if they might have come from a cappella moments in Verdi’s Requiem. Di Vittorio confirms that impression in his booklet note, stating that a number of influences run through the piece, from Palestrina and Monteverdi to Verdi, and that “in particular, certain resemblances may be traced to Verdi’s choral Ave Maria .” The effects of Di Vittorio’s piece are quite arresting, simultaneously stark and austere yet illuminated from within by a shimmering light that leads to a most meltingly beautiful cadential Amen.
The Symphony No. 1, titled “Isolation,” dates to one year before the Ave Maria but was revised in 1999. No borrowings from Respighi appear in this score either, yet his spirit hovers over it in the luminous divided string writing and exquisite chiaroscuro effects. This is a strings-only work, and according to Di Vittorio one of its influences was Vivaldi’s seldom-performed Sinfonia al Santo Sepolcro , RV 169, one of Vivaldi’s most harmonically tortured works, written in a highly chromatic idiom intended to represent Christ’s pain and suffering. For Di Vittorio, the “Isolation” Symphony is meant to depict man’s alienation from himself and his fellow man. If you were to listen to the piece without knowing that, I’m not sure you would necessarily pick up specifically on that theme. The music is sad, to be sure, even brooding, but more than once it put me in mind of Barber’s Adagio for Strings , a piece that is somehow uplifting in its tragedy.
The Di Vittorio-as-composer CD closes with another work revised in 1998, the Clarinet Sonata No. 1. Not reflected in its title is the fact that it’s a piece for unaccompanied clarinet, which is a bit of a challenge for both composer and performer, considering that a solo wind instrument, unlike a violin or cello, can’t make its own harmony by playing double-stops or chords. But I suppose if Bach and Debussy could write for unaccompanied flute, there’s no reason the solo capabilities of other wind instruments shouldn’t be explored. Di Vittorio notes that he drew inspiration and advice for the work from his father, Giuseppe, who was a clarinetist. Di Vittorio claims to have been influenced by Verdi, Brahms, Berlioz, and elements of French Baroque dance, though these elements are not easily discerned due to the nature of the music’s syntax and style, which consists largely of loosely connected contrasting phrases that never quite seem to coalesce into an identifiable whole. Nonetheless, Benjamin Baron’s very accomplished clarinet playing invites further listening and offers a promise that there is more to this piece than meets the ear on first hearing.
Critics can be a cruel lot—I know because I’m one of them—and there are those who will say, and already have, that music like this being written today is irrelevant. That’s a strong sentiment, for sure, but nowhere near as judgmental as someone like Pierre Boulez would be. He is quoted as having said that composers who write music like this simply don’t exist, prompting an acquaintance of mine to describe Boulez as “the Dr. Mengele of France.” With one wave of his hand, off you go to the gas chamber. My attitude, as expressed on a number of past occasions, is that beautiful music is beautiful music, regardless of when it’s written, and Di Vittorio proves himself with this CD to be a composer of beautiful music extraordinaire. I strongly recommend this release to you for many hours of listening pleasure.
The second of the two entries consists entirely of music by Respighi, though Di Vittorio has had a hand in the realization of three of the four of the works as heard on the disc. I’m not sure just how seriously Respighi was ever taken by critics and the academic elite, but thanks to a small number of works—primarily his Roman trilogy, the Ancient Airs and Dances suites, and La Boutique fantasque —he came to enjoy considerable exposure and popularity, especially in the U.S. Toscanini premiered the third number of the Roman trilogy, Feste Romane , with the New York Philharmonic in 1929, and then went on to record the piece for RCA twice, once in 1942 with the Philadelphia Orchestra and a second time with the NBC Symphony Orchestra in 1949, adding the Fountains of Rome in 1951 and the Pines of Rome in 1953. Toscanini wasn’t the only one to climb aboard the Respighi bandwagon. Mengelberg premiered the composer’s Toccata for Piano and Orchestra with the New York Philharmonic in 1928, and the Boston Symphony Orchestra commissioned Respighi’s Metamorphoseon for its 50th anniversary in 1931.
Yet of Respighi’s nearly 200 scores—among which are nine operas, five ballets, several concertos, quite a few chamber works, and a considerable volume of vocal and choral numbers—a good deal of it is unrecorded and rarely, if ever, performed. The reasons seem to be twofold. First, the critics and opinion-makers, while acknowledging the composer’s gift for colorful orchestration and pictorial illusionism, regarded the music as “derivative,” “cinematic,” and even “vulgar,” by which I prefer to think they meant lacking in substance and depth rather than tawdry and tasteless. The truth of the matter is that there is nothing any more cinematic or “vulgar,” if you choose to use that word, about Respighi’s The Fountains of Rome , written in 1916, than there is about Bloch’s Schelomo written a year earlier. But the second, and perhaps more serious, criticism Respighi faced—though it was largely unjustified—was that he was a supporter of Mussolini’s fascist regime. Evidence seems to suggest that Respighi didn’t have a political bone in his body, but it may have been his very passivity and silence that were damning.
The 24-year-old Respighi began work on a violin concerto in 1903. Only the first two movements were completed; the third remained in a piano reduction with just a few measures orchestrated. After analyzing the score, Di Vittorio made enhancements to the orchestration of the first two movements and completed the third using material from the other movements. Di Vittorio’s completion was premiered in New York in 2010. I note a 1994 recording of the concerto on a Bongiovani CD, but it is only of Respighi’s original first two movements. The current performances of both the concerto and the Aria for Strings, transcribed by Di Vittorio, are world premiere recordings. The concerto, which owes much to Vivaldi and early Mendelssohn, inhabits a world of lyrical sunshine that plays on the senses like a fresh breeze bearing scents of an Italian vineyard in spring. Thanks to the efforts of Di Vittorio, and the capable hands and sensitive voice of violinist Laura Marzadori, this romantically expressive score is brought to us complete for the first time.
The even earlier 1901 Aria, Respighi’s salute to his Italian heritage by way of Frescobaldi, Corelli, and, again, Vivaldi, found its way into the composer’s Suite in G Major for Strings and Organ. Di Vittorio makes of it a lovely air for string orchestra. Both the Aria and the Suite were revised or edited to prepare the very first printed editions (score and parts) of each score. Up until now, only manuscript copies of the score and parts existed for both works. Beyond this, Di Vittorio then made slight adjustments to the Aria to make it suitable for not only string orchestra but string quintet, in order to promote Respighi’s music in academic settings, such as conservatories and music colleges.
The booklet does not explain to what extent Di Vittorio “revised” Respighi’s Suite for Strings, cataloged as P 41. The piece is a six-movement suite in Baroque style that anticipates Respighi’s later and very popular Ancient Airs and Dances.
Six years after Respighi visited Rossini’s collection of piano pieces titled Les Riens (“Trifles,” aka “Sins of my Old Age”) for his ballet La Boutique fantasque in 1919, he returned to mine the mother lode again in 1925 for his Rossiniana Suite. It is given here in unaltered form and in a delightful performance by Di Vittorio’s “Ottorino Respighi” Chamber Orchestra of New York. As one of Respighi’s more popular works, there is of course serious competition in the suite, not least among which is a classic 1967 recording with Ansermet (one of his last) and the Suisse Romande Orchestra.
The current Naxos release, in addition to excellent performances and recording, offers to the Respighi fan a combination of never-before-heard music and works in never-before-heard transcriptions by Salvatore Di Vittorio. Strongly recommended.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
