This is Volume 4 in Centaur's traversal of the complete organ works of Charles-Marie Widor (1844-1937), performed by Joby Bell. This is clearly going to be the seminal recording of these works. Since 2004, professor Joby Bell has served on the faculty of the Hayes School of Music, where he teaches organ and church music studies. His church music teaching emphasizes the practical knowledge needed for a solid undergraduate foundation toward successful work and further studies in sacred music. His organ teaching specializes in practice techniques, memorization, service playing, choral accompanying, and maintaining grace under pressure – lessons always best taught by example. Dr. Bell is known for "the breadth of his repertoire, technical virtuosity, and for the personal warmth which shines through in his performances." His acclaimed blog at deals with a comprehensive range of organ-related topics including teaching philosophies, recital preparation, church music, and professional concerns.

This is Volume 5 in Centaur's traversal of the complete organ works of Widor, performed by Joby Bell. The works in this series are performed on five magnificent Aeolian-Skinner and E.M. Skinner instruments; hence, the "American Classic" label. Since 2004, professor Joby Bell has served on the faculty of the Hayes School of Music, where he teaches organ and church music studies. His church music teaching emphasizes the practical knowledge needed for a solid undergraduate foundation toward successful work and further studies in sacred music. His organ teaching specializes in practice techniques, memorization, service playing, choral accompanying, and maintaining grace under pressure – lessons always best taught by example.

This is Volume 6 in Centaur's complete traversal of the organ works of Charles-Marie Widor (1844-1937), performed on classic American organs by Joby Bell. Joby Bell brings to his performances a contagious affability and a keen sensitivity toward increasing an audience's appreciation for organ music. His recital programming demonstrates a varied and interesting repertoire, always enhanced by illuminating program notes designed to emrace all audiences. Bell is featured on several recordings. Born in 1968, Joby Bell attended high school at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts, where he studied piano with Marian Hahn and Robert MacDonald. He earned the Bachelor of Music degree in organ and piano from Appalachian State University and the Master of Music and Doctor of musical Arts degrees in organ from Rice University.

Classical Music

Genuin presents the second release of the Saxon Wind Philharmonic, this time featuring for the first time, festive wind music. Director and conductor Thomas Clamor leads the group through Bernstein and Gershwin classics such as Candide, Summertime, and Strike up the Band.

American music is culturally diverse and exciting, mirroring all the best America has to offer. The last two centuries have seen an extraordinary flowering of musical life in the United States. In recognition of the many gifted American men and women of music, Naxos is pleased to present the American Classic Series.

When complete, this series will consist of over 200 titles, exploring the full spectrum of American concert music. All the familiar names are there: Copland, Ives, Grofé, Barber, and Sousa but so are many others such as: Bennett, Dédé, Foote, McKay, and Siegmeister all of whom have contributed to the rich musical tapestry that is American.

All of us at Naxos invite you to journey with us as we set out to discover America.


Click Here for the complete Naxos American Classic Series

Crawford Seeger's life reflects both the positive and the negative charges of a woman's life in music. There were burdens of raising a large family; the hovering presence of her husband, the composer Charles Seeger; the Depression; social activism (one of the song settings concerns the Sacco-Vanzetti case); and with it all, a tough-minded modernism and a muscular personality. All the pieces on this CD derive from the years 1924 to 1932, before marriage and its concerns more or less silenced Ms. Seeger's work until the 1950's. (She died in 1953.)
The early piano preludes (here Nos. 1 and 9) bear the fluidity and sensuousness of Scriabin, as Cheryl Seltzer's booklet note suggests. Pieces like the Suite for Five Wind Instruments have an assertive tang and an increasing distance from tonality that put them closer to the industrial-strength harmonic revolutions of the times. To this way of thinking also belongs the Violin Sonata, an original and confident work.
Exercises in spartan combinations include two Diaphonic Suites," for solo flute and for bassoon and cello. The three Carl Sandburg songs ride on a complex and dense instrumental accompaniment."
- Bernard Holland, NEW YORK TIMES

Philip Glass, Steve Reich, and John Adams—it is my prediction that, 50 years from now, it will be the last composer’s music that is played most frequently. I am not sure that Adams is the “best” composer of the three (frankly, Reich’s work is more interesting to me), but he is the one who has motivated the most performers to program and record his work. For example, apart from Alsop, three other conductors have recorded Short Ride (de Waart on Nonesuch, Rattle on EMI, and Mosko on Chandos), and there are alternative recordings on Nonesuch of the other three works as well. The Nonesuch discs are important documents, but not necessarily the last word. Despite their explicit or implicit approval by the composer, they can and will be bettered, as time goes on. Consider The Wound-Dresser. I remember being impressed by this work when Nonesuch released the CD with baritone Sanford Sylvan, and the composer conducting the Orchestra of St. Luke’s—I still was in graduate school, and various commentators were quick to draw parallels between Walt Whitman’s injured and dying boys and the current victims of the AIDS epidemic. There’s nothing wrong with Sylvan and Adams, but I find Gunn and Alsop more moving—almost too much so, as the text’s homoaffective subtext is moved closer to the foreground. (It strikes me now that the vocal line at “Many a soldier’s loving arms about this neck have cross’d and rested” could have been written by Stephen Sondheim.)

Alsop makes a good case for Short Ride and for the Berceuse élégiaque. The latter work is an arrangement for chamber orchestra of a work by Ferrucio Busoni—a fact that is not mentioned anywhere in Naxos’s documentation, shamefully enough. Adams, in his Nonesuch recording, is a little more weird and abrasive than Alsop in Shaker Loops—to good effect. All in all, the availability of the Nonesuch recordings does not make this Naxos release superfluous. Alsop is a fine conductor, the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra plays well for her, and then there’s that Naxos price! If you’ve been curious about Adams’s music, but have not been willing to pay Nonesuch prices to hear it, here are four of Adams’s best works in competitive performances at a fraction of the cost.

Raymond Tuttle, FANFARE

This is an enticing program, particularly for the two Franz Waxman items, which will have fans of the composer delighted. The great film composer's arrangement of Enescu's Romanian Rhapsody No. 1 manages to squeeze bits of every tune in the original work's concluding quick section into just two-and-a-half minutes of violin and orchestra fireworks. Even more interesting is the Tristan and Isolde Fantasia for violin, piano, and orchestra--wonderfully lush and decadent, and proving once again that Isolde's Liebestod sounds much better without Isolde.

John Corigliano's Chaconne from The Red Violin is a splendid piece, and it makes an excellent foil to the Adams, which also features a chaconne as its central movement. The performances are quite good, but the competition is fierce: from Joshua Bell in the Corigliano, and from both Gidon Kremer (Nonesuch) and Robert McDuffie (Telarc) in the Adams. Chloë Hanslip isn't quite in their league. She's an estimable player, but her slender tone gets swamped now and then in the Waxman pieces, and she doesn't project the mysteriously lyrical opening movement of the Adams with as strong a profile as the competition (particularly at this relatively slow tempo).

Certainly I have no complaints about Slatkin's conducting, or regarding the well-balanced engineering. In the final analysis, although you can perhaps do a bit better in the Corigliano and Adams items, the value of this disc lies in bringing all of these varied and enjoyable works together at such an attractive price. Intelligent planning and solid musicianship certainly combine to overcome any minor technical or interpretive reservations.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Leroy Anderson's music once was so ubiquitous that anyone with even cursory contact with broadcast media could not help hearing it. So don't be surprised--especially if you're over 30--if you find your ears perking up quite often in recognition as you play this delightful disc. Those of us who played in high school bands and orchestras no doubt will have vivid memories of Bugler's Holiday or Trumpter's Lullaby, but for most listeners this collection will serve to attach names to tunes heard for years in supermarkets and shopping malls--tunes such as The Syncopated Clock, The Girl in Satin, and Blue Tango. Anderson applied his classical training to his love of jazz, which, combined with his uncanny instinct for good tunes helped him create a long series of "pops" hits. He was equally adept in both worlds, whether the European-style waltzing of Belle of the Ball (with its "blue note" trio), or the straight-from-the-dance-hall Jazz Pizzicato.


The disc opens with the Serenata (a cheeky knockoff of Gershwin's Cuban Overture) and closes with the ever-popular Sleigh Ride, here freed from those goofy lyrics and sounding more like its true self: a fine composition that can be enjoyed whatever the time of year. Anderson had a particular flair for musical depictions of everyday objects, such as the aforementioned clock, or the typewriter, or even sandpaper (in the Sandpaper Ballet). Whether object, animal (The Waltzing Cat), or body part (March of Two Left Feet), Anderson never abandoned his operative principle: make music fun! Richard Hayman's long experience in this specialized genre shows in his high-spirited, rhythmically smart, tonally tangy realizations with his orchestra. If you've been finding yourself bereft of smiles lately, purchase this Naxos disc and you'll get a whole hour's worth.
--Victor Carr Jr., ClassicsToday.com

Every note is taken seriously and every bar is chock-full of ‘pizzazz’

This, at least for me, is possibly the ‘best’ of the three Naxos CDs of Leroy Anderson’s music released to date. But that is simply because it has my favourite Anderson piece on it – the Serenata. Here is a miniature that conjures up the summer sunshine in Majorca or the Costa del Sol. But not just sunshine – there is quite definitely a beautiful senorita with smouldering eyes, blatantly portrayed by the ‘major’ key part of this piece ... But there are other reasons why this CD is ‘top of the pops.’ For example, it would be a stern person indeed who did not laugh out loud at the antics of the ‘band’ in the 1947 arrangement of Old MacDonald had a Farm – complete with a battery of animal noises, Surely a piece like this would bring the Albert Hall down on the ‘Last Night’?

The CD opens with a rather fun pre-war work - the Harvard Sketches which supposedly describes the antics of the students. The number opens quite innocuously with an impression of the Lowell House Bells, yet soon there is a change of mood when a clarinet strikes up a jaunty tune in Harvard Square. As it is a ‘freshman,’ I guess he does not realise this is ‘not appropriate music’ for the old Alma Mater. There are lots of ‘wrong’ notes! The silence of the Widener Reading Room is presented in a quiet reflective mood – only to be interrupted by strange noises representing chattering and of course the librarian ‘rapping the desk for silence.’ Harvard Sketches ends with a Confetti Dance. Surely the listener cannot help but be reminded of Charles Ives in this piece.

Melody on Two Notes is quite simply lovely. The tune is, based on the notes G and D but is presented in such a way that interest is never lost. However, it is the harmonies and the orchestration that bring character to this work. Alas, it is painfully short.

Mother’s Whistler, from 1940 and the Penny Whistle Song written eleven years later are typical Anderson numbers. The former was lost to the world until it was discovered in the Boston Pops library – this is its first recording. Apparently the composer was not happy with the piece. Look out for the barking dog! The Penny Whistle Song is really a quiet piece with a catchy tune; it is well-described as ‘happy go lucky.’

The Phantom Regiment is supposed to ‘depict a nameless body of soldiers marching into and then trotting across the scene – before marching away.’ It is interesting balance of military march and up tempo quick step. I guess that Plink, Plank, Plunk needs little introduction save to say that it has an infectious tune that stays in my brain for days after hearing it! It was written as a ‘sequel’ to the equally memorable Jazz Pizzicato. Anderson composed Promenade whilst he was still in the Army – and this is certainly obvious in the military atmosphere of this tune. It is no amble in ‘Central Park before Dark’ but is much more West Point on a passing-out parade day. The Sandpaper Ballet is one of those pieces that every one knows but can never quite put their finger on. I guess it is the rubbing of the various grades of sandpaper replicating the old ‘soft shoe shuffle’ that gives the game away – but just try to recall the title the next time you hear this piece! The Saraband is my least favourite number in this collection – however I know that Anderson’s ‘take’ on the baroque dance –for example, suddenly doubling the speed of the music - is popular in many quarters.

Of Sleigh Ride I need say little – save it is one of the most Christmassy pieces I know of. It makes me dream of the deep snow that we had way back in 1963! Other well-known tunes include The Typewriter with its ‘Oh, so obvious’ sound effect – yet it still makes people smile when they hear it for the umpteenth time. And then there is the Trumpeter’s Lullaby which was composed as a ‘show piece’ for the Boston Pops lead trumpet player – Roger Voisin. The Syncopated Clock was used as a theme tune for the CBS-TVs ‘The Late Show’ and became a ‘household’ jingle. It does not need a listener to be a genius to deduce that Anderson will make the clock ‘tick’ both on and off beat! This is a great tune to wrap up the CD.

However there are two other works that deserve mention. In fact, the Suite of Carols for Brass Choir is the longest work on this disc. Of course, it is the wrong time of year for listening to this kind of music - as it is for the Sleigh Ride - but it was well worth hearing. Leroy Anderson wrote three ‘carol’ suites for a special ‘Holiday’ season album – one for strings, one for winds and the present Suite. Rarely for the composer, this music is almost entirely devoid of the usual ‘fingerprints.’ They are actually well-written, neo-classical arrangements and should be listened to as such. The carols selected include:- In Dulci Jubilo: Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming: I Saw Three Ships: From Heaven High I Come to You; We Three Kings of Orient are and March of the Kings.

And last, but not least, is the arrangement of George Gershwin’s Wintergreen for President. This is a number from the show Of thee I sing which is set in the White House! This is one of the composer’s earliest pieces – but certainly deserves our attention with its ‘bustling manner’.

It is self-evident that Leonard Slatkin and the ‘band’ enjoy themselves playing this music. There is, I guess, an ever-present danger that players could be condescending to Anderson’s music when they have perhaps been wrestling with Mahler, Boulez or Pärt. However, in this recording, every note is taken seriously and every bar is chock-full of ‘pizzazz’.

A great disc – and I am looking forward to what I imagine will be the fourth and final CD?

-- John France, MusicWeb International

Also available - Leroy Anderson: Orchestral Music Vol 1
Jeffrey Biegel's rendition of the terrific Piano Concerto is the best yet. The playing by the BBC Concert Orchestra is relaxed and charming. Under Slatkin's baton the melodies flow effortlessly, and clearly a good time was had by all. -- ClassicsToday.com

Also available - Leroy Anderson: Orchestral Music Vol 2
If you enjoyed Vol. 1 in this ongoing series of Leroy Anderson's warm and beautifully crafted orchestral works, then you'll surely want this release as well. The performances are just as fine, and once again we get several important premieres. Anderson's brand of melodious charm is timeless. -- ClassicsToday.com

It's usual to say, somewhat condescendingly, that Leroy Anderson was a great "light music" composer, but the fact is that he was a great composer. Period. The ability to write a memorable tune is priceless, as Brahms (no slouch in the tune department) recognized in speaking of Dvorák, and it more than compensates for any amount of failings in other departments. Anderson had remarkably few of those: his orchestrations are masterly, his craftsmanship always top-notch. The three suites included here (Scottish, Irish, and Alma Mater) are beautifully put together and incredibly catchy.

The vocal items (see work list above) are fetchingly sung by Kim Criswell and William Dazeley, and here receive their world premiere recordings. The program ends with one of Anderson's larger works, the dazzling Christmas Festival. Leonard Slatkin, an old hand in this music, conducts with unassuming mastery, and the BBC Concert Orchestra sounds entirely at home in the idiom. Very good engineering completes this delectable package. Like the rest of this series, this is definitely worth collecting.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Goldilocks strikes gold. Undeservedly neglected light music.

What a pleasure to hear such jolly upbeat music. Leroy Anderson’s Goldilocks music lifts the spirits right from the start. This, the fifth album in the Naxos Anderson series, concentrates almost entirely on his music for the 1958 Broadway musical. Alas it was not a success; it expired after only 161 performances. The book took most of the blame. The show’s title Goldilocks probably didn’t help it much either and at that time there was a lot of competition on Broadway including: West Side Story, The Music Man and My Fair Lady. But Leroy Anderson’s music was mostly praised.

The Goldilocks Overture sparkles; all the excerpt numbers are little gems. ‘One Good Kiss Deserves Another’ has a winning melody. William Dazely singing nicely in the ballad style of the period and is joined by a nicely coy Kim Criswell. ‘Shall I Take My Heart and Go’ is another lovely, dreamily-romantic ballad. This number is also reprised separately as an instrumental item. These two songs alone, one feels, should have ensured the success of Goldilocks especially as presented here. But this 70+ reviewer is an unashamed romantic and a lover of the musicals of this period.

Additionally there is: ‘The Pussy Foot’, a terrific swing number that will set your feet a-tapping. The ‘Pirate Dance’ bounces cheekily along, tongue-in-cheek redolent of all those Tyrone Power and Errol Flynn swashbucklers of that period. The droll ‘Who’s Been Sitting in My Chair’ is quite unlike Eric Coates’s Three Bears, rather it begins in Old-English rustic style before developing into a burlesque-like number - apparently in the show Maggie actually dances to it with a guy in a bear suit. The memorable ‘The Lady-in-Waiting Ballet’ is a quintessential Leroy Anderson with its sweeping, swinging waltz tune. ‘The Lady in Waiting Waltz’ (played later, separately) glistens and it has witty allusions to Richard Strauss’s Till Eulenspiegel and Der Rosenkavalier. ‘The Town Maxixe’ is an easy-going number that swings along interrupted by material reminiscent of old-style madrigal tunes. ‘I Never Knew When’ is another appealing romantic ballad, but without vocals, beginning almost Arabian Nights-like before developing into smoochiness. The ‘Pyramid Dance’ is all exuberance, bouncing and rushing along, a sort of mix of Khachaturian and Rimsky-Korsakov.

Followers of the reviews of the preceding four volumes in this series will no doubt remember that Leroy Anderson arranged a number of suites of carols for different combinations of instruments - the others were for strings and brass. This collection,

for wind instruments, comprises: ‘Angels in our Fields’, ‘O Sanctissima’; ‘O come, O come Emmanuel, O come’ (an inspired little pastorale); ‘Little Children’; ‘Coventry Carol’; and ‘Patapan’.

As before Leonard Slatkin and the BBC Concert Orchestra offer polished, genial readings full of joie de vivre.

Goldilocks strikes gold. Undeservedly neglected light music.

-- Ian Lace, MusicWeb International

George Antheil's infamous Ballet Mécanique exists in (basically) three versions, the first of which (for lots of synchronized mechanical pianos and percussion) has only recently been premiered and recorded for the first time by the UMass Lowell Percussion Ensemble. The version that scandalized Paris audiences in 1926 actually was an arrangement for lots of normal pianos and percussion, and this version was recreated on a long out-of-print MusicMasters disc. Daniel Spalding and his intrepid ensemble take on the composer's 1953 revision for the time-honored (via Stravinsky and Orff) ensemble of four pianos and percussion, an arrangement that reduces the score by about half while preserving the most important thematic material. It's a fine work in its own right, more conventionally "listenable" than the early versions, and it's easy to understand Antheil's desire to give the music wider currency. Spalding and his ensemble play very well indeed, and the recording balances the various special effects (airplane propellers and electric bells) in such a way that they register without ever becoming totally obnoxious.


You can't help but feel sorry for Antheil's subsequent career misfortunes. After all, no one today seriously castigates Stravinsky for not writing more Rites of Spring, and we can only view with bemusement the cold shoulder given Antheil's post "Mécanique" production, especially considering the fact that even this notorious work was as ignored in performance as the rest of his music. Antheil clearly recognized that, like Stravinsky's "Rite", the Ballet Mécanique was an artistic dead end, but as this disc proves, he wrote plenty of fine music both before and after it. Take the Serenade for String Orchestra No. 1. Here's a delightful piece, humorous and lyrical, full of rhythmic energy and good tunes. The Symphony for Five Instruments very cleverly balances an unusual ensemble of viola, flute, bassoon, trumpet, and trombone, and will appeal to anyone who enjoys the chamber music of Poulenc. The Concert for Chamber Orchestra (actually a wind octet), also reeks of Stravinsky and Les Six, but you'd be hard pressed to find anything by that septet of composers precisely like it.


In short, Antheil's neglect is completely unjustified, as this and other fine recordings now appearing on Naxos and CPO clearly demonstrate. As with the Ballet, Spalding and the Philadelphia Virtuosi Chamber Orchestra play these diverse other works with affection and relish. Naxos provides them with excellent recorded sound too. A winner in every respect, this disc should go far toward supporting the ongoing rehabilitation of this seminal figure in 20th century music.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

BABBITT Around the Horn. 1 Whirled Series. 2 None but the lonely flute. 3 Homily. 4 Beaten Paths. 5 Play It Again, Sam. 6 Soli e duettini. 7 Melismata 8 ? William Purvis (hn); 1,2 Marshall Taylor (a sax); 2 Charles Abramovic (pn); 2 Rachel Rudich (fl); 3 Peter Jarvis (snare dr); 4 Thomas Kolor (mmb); 5 Lois Martin (va); 6 Susan Palma (fl); 7 David Starobin (gtr); 7 Curtis Macomber (vn) 8 ? NAXOS 8.559259 (75:17)


Gratitude and plaudits are due to Naxos for reissuing the splendid series of American chamber-music discs originally released in the mid 1990s by Koch International Classics. So far, we have seen the return of Feldman?s String Quartet and mixed trios by Charles Wuorinen. One hopes Wolpe is waiting in the wings. Meanwhile, here is a group of remarkable instrumental works (one trio, one duo, and six solos) by Milton Babbitt, composed between 1982 and 1993. The New York-based Group for Contemporary Music is comprised of musicians whose playing is of such high quality it demands acknowledgement, so I?ve listed the soloists in the headnote.


Babbitt, 90 this year, was one of that group of serial or post-serial American composers who flourished from the late 1950s on. Their work is often dismissed as dense, intractable, and tuneless, especially from the vantage point of today?s nouveau accessibility?but once you broaden your idea of what constitutes a tune, you?ll find such criticisms miss the mark. (You?ll also find you can?t lump Babbitt, Wuorinen, Carter, Perle, and company together: any similarities are superficial.)


As a young man, the Broadway composer Stephen Sondheim was awarded a scholarship to study privately with Babbitt. The supposed incongruity of this pairing is sometimes remarked upon, until you realize that both composers approach the craft of composition in the same way: as a series of intricate puzzles to be solved. This is, I think, the key to Babbitt?s world. His work is high-wire, intellectual game playing and it exudes a bracing air of playfulness as it revels in the process. This music doesn?t relate to anything except itself; it is truly abstract (a term often used pejoratively to describe mid-20th century visual and graphic art). The bouts of twittering in the piano?s extreme upper register during the trio Whirled Series , for instance, have nothing to do with the avian realm, for all that they suggest a day in the life of Messiaen. They are simple (or complex) melodic fragments, sometimes the same ones heard simultaneously in the low saxophone part, only played at mach speed.


In the solo pieces, melodic lines are kept in balance by having the solo instrument make wide leaps from one register to another, thus achieving the effect (or, more accurately, solving the problem) of having simultaneous themes moving in counterpoint. The result may sound disjointed at first, but once you get comfortable with the technique it becomes clear and exciting. A good memory for pitch helps! I should mention to those unfamiliar with Babbitt?s idiom that this working-out of ideas is done nimbly and, above all, quickly: no endless drones or pregnant silences here, the ball is kept in the air at all times. In the duos, to quote the disc?s original review by Art Lange in Fanfare 20:2, ?the parts seldom seem related, until they do.? (Perfectly put! If you?re interested in this bargain reissue, look up Lange?s detailed commentary.) At such moments of synchronicity, the listener is deftly reminded that there is an omniscient intelligence at work organizing all this busy activity.


A notable feature of this disc is the sheer virtuosity Babbitt demands from his performers. William Purvis?s mastery of the horn?such an obstinate instrument in the wrong lips?is a wonder in itself, and that accolade may be applied to every one of these musicians. They shape and color each moment of this technically demanding music, and seem to be having almost as much fun as the composer.


The original Koch issue came on two CDs, one of which featured Babbitt reading his essay On Having Been and Still Being an American Composer . That set also contained Four Cavalier Settings for solo tenor. Those items have been dropped to squeeze the remaining works onto one CD, which in this case strikes me as a sensible way to go, not only for hip-pocket reasons but also because it brings together a succinct program of Babbitt?s instrumental chamber music. The sound is very good, performances are in a class of their own, and?as colleague Lange also pointed out?these pieces are among the composer?s most approachable.


FANFARE: Phillip Scott

For his debut album on Delos, the brilliant emerging virtuoso Sean Kennard has chosen a captivating program featuring solo piano music by two of America’s most iconic composers: Samuel Barber and Aaron Copland. While neither composer’s body of work includes a great many pieces for solo piano, each has left a legacy of superb piano compositions to memorable effect.

Of the five works on this album, Barber’s finger-twisting Sonata for Piano and Copland’s stunning Piano Variations stand as enduring masterpieces of twentieth-century American piano music. Both pieces incorporate broad spectrums of modernist musical language and styles, as well as degrees of difficulty that only the finest and most technically accomplished artists can master. And most of the shorter pieces offer delightfully evocative treatments of musical Americana.

REVIEWS:

A triumphant debut from a brilliant young pianist.

America still produces superb pianists and one is Sean Kennard, whose first recording this is. (He studied at Juilliard with Boris Berman and Richard Goode.) Not only is Kennard’s technique flawless, his understanding of the music’s expressive requirements is second to none… This marvellous debut disc is a triumph.

-- Limelight

Sean Kennard places familiar works by Barber and Copland in a mutually illuminating dialogue. This achievement in programming is matched by very fine playing indeed. His penetrating sense of structure in Barber’s Piano Sonata and Copland’s Piano Variations is balanced by an infectious sense of fun in Copland’s 4 Piano Blues.

-- Fanfare

Includes work(s) by Samuel Barber. Ensemble: Royal Scottish National Orchestra. Conductor: Marin Alsop.

Setting texts for chorus or solo songs occupied Samuel Barber throughout his creative life. In particular he sought out English and Irish writers, many of whose melancholic and nostalgic texts aptly matched his own musically romantic persuasion.

"None of the performances on this new release is less than superb; moreover, no one who has been using the Naxos series to build his library of Barber works risks being disappointed by this or any of the other releases...this new Naxos release is especially notable for its extremely rich yet transparent sound quality and for painstakingly shaped phrasing by the Scottish National Orchestra."

-- Walter Simmons, Fanfare

Lyricism and obsessive patterns are finely realised by the RSNO, while conductor Marin Alsop shows a keen sensitivity to both scores and balances their rhetoric with the clean-edged clarity of their textures. In addition, her performance of the now-ubiquitous Adagio for Strings is a model of restraint, proving the saying that less equals more. Attractive sound, with a wide range and plenty of definition. - BBC Music Magazine

This album was nominated for the 2002 Grammy Award for Best Instrumental
Soloist(s) Performance with Orchestra.

Amy Beach's songs are pleasant enough, and certainly well-crafted, with smartly chosen texts--Burns, Longfellow, Browning, Shelley, and some lesser-known poets, including Beach herself. But most of their appeal lies with the composer's deftness in borrowing from and incorporating the styles of major artists such as Schubert, Brahms, Wolf, Richard Strauss, and Debussy into her writing. She even takes directly from Beethoven in her quite lovely song "The Rainy Day". In other words, there's nothing really original here, but melodically and in terms of overall accessibility and singability, Beach understood the genre and knew how to create music that nearly everyone--singers as well as listeners--could enjoy. There are lullabies, German lied, and French chansons, as well as a nod or two to English and American parlor-song. And we're fortunate to have as our interpreter a singer who is one of the world's experts in this repertoire: mezzo-soprano Katherine Kelton did her doctoral dissertation on Beach's songs. She exhibits a voice of rich color and easy, inviting expressiveness, and her technique effortlessly conveys the varied moods and cleverly imitative styles so that we can just sit back and appreciate each one of these charming if not particularly profound works. Beach's piano accompaniments are carefully thought-out and add essential, characterful aspects of tone, color, and texture that are often very technically challenging. Catherine Bringerud is completely at home with this music and at one with Kelton's vocal interpretations. The sound is complementary to vocal and instrumental timbres and presents the performances in realistic perspective. Fans of American song--and especially of Amy Beach (who did much of her writing just down the road from where I'm writing this review, at the MacDowell Colony in Peterborough, NH)--shouldn't miss this interpretively considerate, solidly performed recital.

--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

Bernstein?s Serenade for solo violin, strings, harp, and percussion was inspired by Plato?s Symposium and the composer described it as a ?series of related statements in praise of love.? This is the only performance I know which treats it that way, rather than as a snazzy solo concerto. It?s partly to do with conductor Marin Alsop?s measured approach to tempo: the work bounces along, but the syncopated rhythms never race out of control, and moments of excitement are never whipped up in order to generate a buzz. It?s also partly to do with the soloist. Philippe Quint?s smooth-toned violin persuades and cajoles: there are flights of fancy, but there is also reasoned argument. In short, this really does sound like a group of articulate protagonists in intellectual parlay (a situation Bernstein himself loved to be in). Marin Alsop was a protegee of the composer, and here she salutes his memory by taking the program of the Serenade seriously. The aforementioned sections of the Bournemouth orchestra are disciplined and tight.


The ballet score, Facsimile , perhaps needs to be drawn out of its shell a little more; it is the least flashy of Bernstein?s early concert works. Alsop and the orchestra do it justice, but this is one of those rare cases where only the composer (on Sony and Deutsche Grammophon) can bring it to shining life. Jerome Robbins?s ballet was set to a nihilistic scenario of ?post war malaise and the spiritual vacuum of modern man,? to quote the notes. (I thought the post-war era was optimistic! Robbins should have been around now.) The music is, likewise, a little gray, though Bernstein?s natural ebullience peeps through whenever it can. In any case, the playful moments need to be more playful, the dramatic fortes a little more dramatic than they are allowed to be here. The prominent piano part is nicely integrated into the orchestral fabric in this spacious recording.


Facsimile is an exception to my theory (which I?m sticking to) that, generally, Bernstein?s music speaks for itself and it?s musicality suffers when points are over-emphasized or climaxes inflated. The late Divertimento (written for the centenary of the Boston SO) provides a good example. Once more, Alsop reins in the highjinks and as a result, the piece seems more substantial and less ?occasional? than usual. These works are available in the composer?s recordings and many other fine interpretations exist (such as Hilary Hahn?s dazzling Serenade, with David Zinman conducting the Baltimore SO on Sony?if it?s still around) but Naxos gives us more than mere bargain-basement versions. These are smart, sharply realized, well-recorded performances.


FANFARE: Phillip Scott

If ever there was a composer for today, that composer is William Bolcom. Just as music of all kinds is omnipresent in our lives, so it is in his work. If he likes it, it?s in?and it?s not a carefully refracted influence (like Christopher Rouse?s rock) or a sarcastic juxtaposition of quotations ( à la Schnittke), it?s just there . Bolcom drew upon Ivesian Americana in his 1976 piano concerto; he created a languorous passage of jazz fiddle in his violin concerto because he admired Joe Venuti?s licks, and look at the broad stylistic vocabulary at work in his fearless, monumental setting of Blake?s Songs of Innocence and Experience (also available on Naxos, and indispensable). On this disc, in the sometimes-uniform sound world of duo-piano, the stylistic variety he displays is typically wide-ranging.


The earliest piece is the short Interlude from 1963 (rev. 1965). Composed when Bolcom was a student, it employs the then obligatory atonal language. He was studying with Darius Milhaud and Olivier Messiaen in Paris at the time, but a few years later, he discovered and fell in love with ragtime. Bolcom is, of course, also renowned as a pianist (as soloist and accompanist to his wife Joan Morris) and his recordings, as well as his compositions, helped to re-establish rag as a form. From 1969, we have here a rag ( The Serpent?s Kiss ) and a cakewalk ( Through Eden?s gates ), rearranged from a solo piano suite for Richard and John Contigula (who recorded it on one of their Connoisseur discs, long gone). These are both laid-back, loving pieces; in the cakewalk, which the composer describes as ?[conjuring] the image of Adam and Eve calmly cakewalking their way out of Paradise,? we find a passage where one of the pianists knocks out a syncopated rhythm on the wood to the other?s ?stop? chords: a genuine tap-dancing turn, and how better to depict Adam and Eve?s cheeky defiance of God?


The longest work here is the two-movement suite, Frescoes (1971). Here Bolcom adopts the avant-garde devices of the 1970s: aleatory passages, explosions of dissonance, and above all the exploration of tone color. The pianists double at various points on harpsichord and harmonium: it?s all very spooky and George Crumbish, apart from one moment where Bolcom switches gears and suddenly we?re hearing a ?till ready? intro to a Broadway point number. Throughout its 28 minutes, Frescoes holds out attention due to the composer?s sophisticated ear for texture and his sense of fun. The 1993 Sonata in one movement is more straightforward stylistically (although references to Schoenberg and Debussy pop up), because Bolcom concentrates his energies on structure, fusing Classical first-movement sonata form with the overall fast/slow/fast layout of a full sonata.


The opening work, Recuerdos, is a three-movement suite from 1991 that specifically pays homage to three Latin composers, Ernesto Nazareth, Louis-Moreau Gottschalk, and Ramón Delago Palacios. Bolcom does not merely ape the sound of these composers; he understands and recreates the innate qualities that made them popular (as Ravel did in his piano homages to Chabrier and Borodin). Thus, Bolcom pinpoints the lazy playfulness of Nazareth (?creator? of the choro , according to the notes), the florid panache of Gottschalk, and the full-blooded bravado of Palacios. (Milhaud obviously started this particular ball rolling with his own Latin-derived music; Bolcom the pianist made a wonderful, sympathetic recording for Nonesuch of Milhaud?s Saudades do Brazil. It demands to be reissued.)


The distinguished duo-piano team of Elizabeth and Marcel Bergmann play Bolcom?s music for all it?s worth?which means going over the top when necessary. The recording is excellent, encompassing the extremes of forte and piano in a dryish but not cramped acoustic. Also, whoever determined the order of works on the CD made a brilliant decision: the final marcato chords of Recuerdos are virtually the same as the opening marcato chords of Frescoes . In the first, they represent the flamenco stamping of a final Spanish cadence, and in the second, a call to attention for a journey through a stunningly contrasted harmonic and sonic terrain. This canny juxtaposition epitomizes the composer?s eclecticism. Bravo, Naxos: now for the five (or more?) symphonies! Meanwhile, this disc goes on my first Want list.


FANFARE: Phillip Scott

Naxos celebrates the immigrant experience with the release of Peter Boyer’s Ellis Island: The Dream of America, an ambitious work combining spoken word performances of actual Ellis Island immigrant stories with powerful orchestral music. Performed by London’s renowned Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by Boyer, this recording features a cast of Oscar-, Emmy-, and Tony-winning actors: Barry Bostwick, Blair Brown, Olympia Dukakis, Anne Jackson, Bebe Neuwirth, Eli Wallach, and Louis Zorich, directed by Tony- and Grammy-winning Martin Charnin.

Boyer fashioned the seven monologues of Ellis Island: Dream of America from interviews in the Ellis Island Oral History Project with actual immigrants who came to the United States between 1910-1940, weaving a dramatic orchestral tapestry around their true stories. The work concludes with a reading of the Emma Lazarus poem The New Colossus (“Give me your tired, your poor…”), an emotionally powerful ending to this celebration of our nation of immigrants.

Ellis Island: The Dream of America was premiered by the Hartford Symphony Orchestra in April 2002 to great acclaim, and its many subsequent performances have also received enthusiastic responses. Gerald Moshell of the Hartford Courant described the first performance as “a searing emotional experience” while Harold McNeil of the Buffalo News described the piece as “at turns, horrifying, whimsical and heart-rending. But it’s always palpably engaging ...”

Peter Boyer is emerging as one of the most successful young American orchestral composers, with nearly 100 orchestral performances of his work to date. In addition to his work for the concert hall, Boyer is active in the film and television industry and is on the faculty of Claremont Graduate University.

The suite is made up of the following sections:

1. Prologue 06:09
2. Words of Helen Cohen, emigrated from Poland in 1920, read by Blair Brown 02:37
3. Interlude 1 01:24
4. Words of James Apanomith, emigrated from Greece in 1911, read by Louis Zorich 02:43
5. Interlude 2 02:07
6. Words of Lillian Galleta, emigrated from Italy in 1928, read by Olympia Dukakis 03:32
7. Interlude 3 01:33
8. Words of Lazarus Salamon, emigrated from Hungary in 1920, read by Eli Wallach 04:16
9. Interlude 4 01:56
10. Words of Helen Rosenthal, emigrated from Belgium in 1940, read by Bebe Neuwirth 04:27
11. Interlude 5 01:01
12. Words of Manny Steen, emigrated from Ireland in 1925, read by Barry Bostwick 04:42
13. Interlude 6 02:24
14. Words of Katherine Beychook, emigrated from Russia in 1910, read by Anne Jackson 02:53
15. Epilogue: "The New Colossus" (Emma Lazarus, 1883), read by all actors 01:50

-----

REVIEW:

Peter Boyer's Ellis Island: The Dream of America will not surprise or disappoint anyone looking for a straightforward presentation piece in the American populist vein, à la Copland's A Lincoln Portrait. Indeed, the music is so openly tonal, melodic, and richly orchestrated; the attitude so noble and patriotic; and the subject matter so emotionally compelling, it would be surprising and disappointing if Boyer had not followed Copland's example, and had set these authentic immigrant narratives from the Ellis Island Oral History Project in anything less than an accessible, American vernacular style. Yet it is the texts, not the music, which matter most in this work, and listeners will find the effective but expectedly epic score less absorbing than the absorbing performances by actors Blair Brown, Louis Zorich, Olympia Dukakis, Eli Wallach, Bebe Neuwirth, Barry Bostwick, and Anne Jackson, who deliver the historic accounts with believable characterizations and genuine emotions. Of course, any invocation of Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty must include a recitation of Emma Lazarus' "The New Colossus," which is passionately read at the work's conclusion by the cast against the stirring, anthemic accompaniment of the Philharmonia Orchestra. Naxos provides excellent sound, though it is fairly loud in places.

– All Music Guide

This is Salmon’s second Brubeck disc for Naxos. Here he presents what are termed twenty-six Nocturnes though that’s something of a misnomer. They’re short character studies, mainly played straight with three notable exceptions where Salmon allows himself the luxury of some explicit improvisation – Recuerdo, Bluette and Koto Song. A number of the songs are also from recent albums and many have personal associations for Brubeck – family, travel, touring, special people and an air of nostalgia.

Whatever they may or may not be these are all engaging and often wistful examples of Brubeck’s art. Since he recently announced that he won’t make any more European tours due to the fatigue of the travelling it’s a moment for those of us here to reflect on his more intimate and reflective moments. They’re captured with real understanding and affection by Salmon who’s made something of a study in things Brubeckian.

So we can admire the compression but affirmative lyricism of the charming ballad Strange Meadowlark. Similarly – and how craftily programmed it is – we can enjoy the Bachian Mexicana, or should that be Mexican Bachiana of Recuerdo, which as already noted is one of the few places where Salmon has some improvisatory leeway. He brings out its suspensions nicely as indeed he does in adducing a little Erroll Garner to its veritable charms. I enjoyed the antique air of Softly, William, Softly, which derives from a never completed opera. As its title suggests Bluette is a laid back mini blues opus. And as with so many songs of his we can hear how Quiet As The Moon aspires to the condition of song. Brubeck is a wonderfully “vocal” composer.

Home Without Iola (his wife) is imbued with tristesse but another tribute to her - (I Still Am In Love With) A Girl Named Oli – has more than its share of earthy, funky Garneresque moments. There’s a touching tribute to Audrey Hepburn as well, and a trademark waltz, Viennese style, to add variety both rhythmic and thematic to the programming. Rather odd though that his Fats Waller tribute – Mr. Fats – should be in the form of a boogie; perhaps Harlem Stride was too much Fats’s thing for Brubeck to insist upon it. The range of his classical enthusiasms and interests can be gauged by his Satie homage, the roguishly titled I See, Satie.

This is another well-judged tribute to a still vital talent. There’s warmth here and wit and the kind of miniaturised impressionism that keeps Brubeck so interesting and rewarding a figure.

-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International

CARTER String Quartets: Nos. 2–4 • Pacifica Qrt • NAXOS 8.559363 (74:15)


In Fanfare 31:6, I wrote of the Pacifica Quartet’s release of Carter’s First and Fifth quartets: “A great release, which I can only hope is matched by the sequel.” Prayers are answered, though I have slight reservations this time, but based on the music rather than the performances.


Carter’s three middle quartets have distinct personalities, based on the fact that they are about “distinct personalities.” Specifically, the Second gives each instrument a prescribed character, and the piece becomes a chamber drama of individuals who interact in a variety of manners and situations. (Ives’s Second Quartet comes to mind as a predecessor, though Carter’s characterizations tend to be more subtle, concentrated, abstract, and involved.) The Third takes a similar idea, but now applies it to two duos (violin/cello and violin/viola), which have a separate set of movements that overlap with each other in a sort of macro-counterpoint. The Fourth is by far the most “classical”—indeed of the entire cycle, not just these three. While its first movement features a rhapsodic, almost wild violin cadenza against which the remaining instruments construct a continuous commentary, it becomes a far more coordinated texture of democratic equality between the voices as it progresses.


While I wrote with unrestrained enthusiasm about the music of Quartets No. 1 and 5, my reaction is more qualified here. No. 2 is many people’s favorite, and there’s no doubt it exudes great wit, virtuosity, and an idea of polyphony never really heard before. That said, I’ve always found the characterizations less perceptible than many, partly because Carter’s highly chromatic pitch language (despite the fact that the different instruments concentrate on different melodic intervals and rhythmic patterns) tends to homogenize the differences. Going back to Ives, I think more stylistic contrasts would make the point better. But I also know that’s anathema to Carter’s aesthetics.


No. 3 on the other hand, is the point where many folks gave up on the composer, but where I was (and still am) blown away. The Third is one of the greatest monuments of High Modernism. Yes, it’s unbelievably complex, but it has an intensity, breadth, and passion unlike almost anything else in the Carter output. One really hears the interaction, indeed the collision, between its worlds as they revolve around one another.


And then No. 4: I wrote earlier I hoped the Pacificas could convince me at last of its value, but while they push me to the edge, I still can’t make the leap. I do realize now that the first movement is one of those rare birds in Carter’s music, a piece based on the rigorous, almost obsessive development of a single motive. Likewise, the slow third movement and the increasingly fragmented alternation between outburst and silence of the concluding Presto have a memorable profile. But it still sounds forced, and I’m sorry to say, relatively empty to me in comparison to the other works in the cycle. I feel that Carter reached a point in the early 1970s where he understood his technique and was able to write large-scale works fluently, but he’d lost some of the reason and drive to do so. Several works that, again, people I know are passionate about, such as Night Fantasies for piano, Penthode for chamber orchestra, and this Quartet, seem to be going through the motions, but don’t reach the transcendent state one senses in other pieces. The good news, though, is that by the mid 1980s Carter began writing a series of brilliant miniatures (one can trace perhaps to the 1984 Riconoscenza for solo violin), which led him to his “late late” style, where a greater degree of clarity, concision, and wit has combined to produce more music of more delight than he ever produced before (we’re talking here about a composer working in the age range of 80–100!). The Fifth Quartet is one of the masterpieces of this period.


As for these performances, once again the Pacificas take the crown on several fronts. The Ardittis have the only other cycle (on Etcetera), but it does not include the Fifth. Also, the Pacificas have far more extensive indexing of movements, which allows one to follow Carter’s formal argument much more closely. Their interpretations are Olympian, yet also suitably driven, catching both the abstraction and expressionism of Carter’s music. To take just one example, their performance of the Fourth, which seems quite intense and fast, is seven minutes longer than the Arditti’s (27:00 vs. 20:00). Listening to the latter, their version of the first movement is the proverbial bat-out-of-hell, and while exhilarating, it sounds as though they’re in a hurry to get it over with. My only quibble with the Pacificas is that their performance of the Third, while staggering in its control and attention to detail, doesn’t deliver the sort of emotional wallop at its ending that I came to know from the Juilliard’s premiere LP recording on Columbia. (Boy, do I fear that dates me!)


But this is overall a triumph of adventurous and stunning music-making, both in the composer’s creation and the performers’ realization. My critique of Carter’s quartets doesn’t dim my overall admiration, or my sense that this is likely the greatest quartet cycle we’ve had since Bartók’s. Add in the budget price for both discs, and this is by far the best way to get a monument of its era, and the single best introduction to Carter’s world one could imagine.


FANFARE: Robert Carl

This album received the 2008 Grammy Award for "Best Chamber Music Performance."

Elliott Carter makes his Naxos début with an ear-catching programme

It’s very good news that Naxos has added Elliott Carter to its American Classics series, beginning with a strong programme of rarely heard pieces, and juxtaposing Carter in early populist vein with Carter the 1960s’ avant-gardist in full cry.

The wartime muscularity of the Symphony No 1 (completed in 1942 but heard here in its 1954 revision) is clearest in passages which echo, or anticipate, Copland’s more extrovert orchestral scores of the same period. But that triumphalist spirit is most productively on show in Carter’s splendidly brash Holiday Overture (1944). The Symphony as a whole is less straightforward, more varied in style and character, and the slow movement in particular moves from hymnic meditation into more ambiguous regions of expression in a manner that might not be completely convincing. It is certainly distinctive, however, and fits well with the balance between restraint and exuberance that typifies the work as a whole.

By the mid-1960s, when the Piano Concerto was composed, Carter’s language had shed its tonal roots, and his forms were far more distant from those traditions that are still traceable in the Symphony. Textures are immensely elaborate, yet the music is uninhibitedly dramatic, depicting all kinds of conflicts and attempted reconciliations while subjecting the basic concept of the concerto to penetrating critical scrutiny.

The power of the drama emerging from the constantly fluctuating confrontations between soloist, main orchestra, and a mediating concertino-group of seven players is rather muted in this recording, which (I suspect) is not the result of a preparatory series of public performances. Ursula Oppens, with Michael Gielen, managed to convey rather more of the music’s inherent fire and tumult. But Mark Wait shows a finely gauged technical command, and although Kenneth Schermerhorn and his Nashville players are occasionally underpowered and inclined to play safe, the jubilant conclusion of the Holiday Overture sweeps any interpretative reservations aside. With the symphony not otherwise available, this disc is a thoroughly recommendable addition to the Naxos American canon.

-- Arnold Whittall, Gramophone [3/2004]

Don't let the brevity of this review lead to the incorrect conclusion that there isn't plenty to enjoy, for James Judd and his New Zealand orchestra offer a pair of terrific Copland performances. Billy the Kid gets a shapely, dramatic interpretation: the initial and closing evocations of the West's wide open spaces offer grandeur without bombast, while the ensuing episodes follow seamlessly, including a very exciting gunfight. In the symphony, Judd is very much his own man. He catches the simple dignity of the first movement very well, then turns in the most dynamic scherzo since the composer's own Everest recording. The Andantino, taken at a daringly slow (but never slack) pace, sets up the blazing finale with particular effectiveness. Here, Judd and his players pull out all the stops, with nicely differentiated brass timbres in the opening fanfare and some really tight, rhythmic playing in the buildup to the central development's crunching climax. The closing pages once again provide the right feeling of triumph without the excess pomposity that has bothered so many critics and performers (even Bernstein) over the years. Naxos gets good, natural sound, though some of the percussion (snare drum rim shots, woodblock, and bass drum) seems a bit too backwardly placed--not a major point. This is a very fine release indeed. [2/14/2002] --David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com