For her first recital, Juliette Journaux evokes the figure of the Wanderer: a wayfarer, a traveller, a man who walks alone, without apparent purpose. He confronts a Nature that is beyond him and his deepest thoughts. The wanderer's drifting is also inseparable from the dream, the acceptance of a dilated time. Musically, one immediately thinks of the worlds of Schubert, Mahler and Wagner... Another aspect of this project is Juliette Journaux's passion for transcription. In tackling the difficult task of transcribing vocal or orchestral works for solo piano, she draws on her knowledge of the orchestra and the operatic voice thanks to her three masters degrees in piano, vocal accompaniment and voice direction from the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Paris... The album opens with Schubert's Lied Der Wanderer in a piano transcription by Liszt, followed by his three Klavierstücke D.946; then comes her transcription of Mahler's last two Lieder eines fahrendes Gesellen, full of pain and sorrow. She also evokes Wagner and his opera Siegfried where Wotan becomes the Wanderer. The farewell and renunciation of the world that is the Abschied from Mahler's Song of the Earth concludes the programme.

REVIEWS:

Enhancing the appeal of pianist Juliette Journaux’s first recital is the concept she used to shape its selections into its nearly hour-long form. In using the figure of the wanderer, a nomad walking alone with no apparent goal or destination, as a guide, she’s sequenced works by Liszt, Schubert, Wagner, and Mahler into an epic travelogue. As a result, the Romantic self-questioning and angst of the prototypical wanderer dovetails seamlessly with the inwardly probing character of the material and lends the recording a satisfying arc and design.

Making the project even more special, the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Paris graduate doesn’t simply perform piano works created by others but for the most part plays personalized transcriptions of the material.

Recorded in October 2022 at Cultural Centre Gustav Mahler in Dobbiaco, Italy, Wanderer Without Words includes two pieces by the great Austrian composer, Journaux transcriptions of “Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen” from Rückert-Lieder and “Der Abschied” from Das Lied von der Erde. Augmenting the Mahler selections are a Liszt piano transcription of Schubert’s “Der Wanderer,” Wagner’s “Mein Schlaf Ist Träumen” (from Siegfried), and other Schubert settings. The journey begins, aptly, with Schubert’s “Der Wanderer,” our protagonist setting out in the hope that his journey will bring answers and resolution. As tormented as that traveler is Wagner’s Wotan, whose questions to the all-knowing goddess Erda are met with confounding riddles.

In notes included with the release, Journaux clarifies the difference between reduction and transcription. She says of her Wagner transcription that it’s primarily based on the principle of reduction, “a concentration of all the elements of the orchestral score into two staves that can be played with two hands.” Whereas reduction aims to retain in pianistic form as much as possible of the orchestrated original, transcription, in her view, is a more personal interpretation of the score in that the transcriber might choose to bring greater attention to certain aspects of the work than others. She writes, “When Liszt faithfully adapts a Beethoven symphony for piano, he is making a reduction; when he arranges a Schubert lied for ten fingers with great freedom of writing (arpeggios, octaves, even re-harmonizations), he is making a transcription.”

“Der Wanderer” finds our protagonist embarking on his journey with determination and resolve, his steps guided by the conviction that answers to his questions will materialize and allowing himself moments of rapture as he confidently makes his way. That alternately serene and dramatic statement’s followed by Wagner’s “Mein Schlaf Ist Träumen,” it similarly oscillating between episodes of tenderness and violence. The focus returns to Schubert for the three-part Drei Klavierstücke, the chorale-like “Allegro Assai” first tempestuous and then lyrical, the subsequent “Allegretto” gently pretty in its reminiscing but also turbulent, and the closing “Allegro” rousing and buoyed by optimism. With “In Der Ferne,” a Journaux-transcribed lied from Schubert’s Schwanengesang, the album moves into its second half and shifts the thematic focus to renunciation, specifically renunciation of the self.

In one of the album’s strongest performances, Journaux imbues her gentle reading of Mahler’s “Ich Bin Der Welt Abhanden Gekommen” with a poetic intimacy that reflects a thorough grasp of the material and emotional connection to the composer’s sensibility. The seven-minute performance creates the impression of the wanderer having temporarily stopped moving to wholly surrender to an inner reverie. That peaceful quality carries over into the final Schubert setting, “Wandrers Nachtlied II,” both pieces setting the stage for the closing movement of Das Lied von der Erde, “Der Abschied.”

Journaux’s musicianship and performances...are stellar from start to finish. This exemplary pianist brings virtuosic command to the pieces but even better a thoughtful and sensitive sensibility that allows her to probe the material deeply, whether it be Mahler, Schubert, or Wagner. It’ll be interesting to see where her next venture takes her.

-- Textura

Debussy’s song cycle Ariettes oubliées of 1888 set six poems from Paul Verlaine’s collection Romances sans paroles, beginning with C’est l’extase and Il pleure dans mon cœur – penetratingly poetic images of love’s ecstasy and rainlike tears of despair. The six Ariettes are the departure point for the arrangement realized in 2012 by British composer Robin Holloway in response to a request from the San Francisco Symphony. Holloway has altered their order while adding a further four Debussy songs, binding the whole work together with brief orchestral links and a feverish epilogue, ‘con moto agitato’. This world first recording is given by French soprano Vannina Santoni, with the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France under the baton of Mikko Franck. The Finnish conductor, a great admirer of Debussy, here also presents the master’s bewitching masterpiece La mer, first heard in Paris in 1905.

Electric Fields' offers modern arrangements of centuries-old vocal music, as well as new compositions, all involving soprano, pianos, and live electronics. The meditative compositions of medieval polymath Hildegard von Bingen are the point of departure for this album. Hildegard's texts soar to the spiritual realm both in Latin and in her invented lingua ignota. Additionally, the vernacular love songs of two composers from the Italian Baroque, Barbara Strozzi and Francesca Caccini, gave inspiration for this album. Several works from American composer Bryce Dessner complete the eclectic programme. Soprano Barbara Hannigan and pianists Katia and Marielle Labeque are joined by composer/performer David Chalmin in this captivating journey through meditative and ambient musical atmospheres. Together they create an intense and unique cosmos of sound.

A highly prolific composer, Giovanni Legrenzi practised his art in oratorios and other works for the church, as well as in opera and chamber music. In fact he explored all the musical genres of his period, taking over the baton handed on by Gabrieli and Monteverdi, and enjoying an enviable reputation among his contemporaries. Better known during his lifetime (1626-1690) for his operas rather than for his religious music, Legrenzi was widely admired and copied all over Europe.

Of his eight known oratorios, only three have survived, including this gem: La morte del cor penitente (The Death of the Repentant Heart), a chamber oratorio probably composed in 1671. The theme is the spiritual development of the Sinner, the central figure of the work, who must pay his debt to God to save his immortal soul. The oratorio’s text provides a whole vivid universe of ‘affects’ (emotions) relating to spiritual torments and temptations. In his pilgrimage from the Cross to the heavenly light, beset by the competing voices of Sin and Hope, the Sinner duly makes his repentance, and finally achieves redemption.

Maurice Yvain’s operettas were immensely successful in the 1920s. The fantasy of the ‘swing’ music, the catchy songs and the perfectly oiled rhythms were all the rage in the Paris of the Roaring Twenties. But the success of these comedies, with their caustic humour, also owed much to the fabulous texts by Albert Willemetz, considered as one of the fathers of modern operetta in the twentieth century. Yvain and Willemetz’s numbers were hummed in the streets and charmed all who hear them – and still do, even a century later! Les Frivolités Parisiennes set out to revive this music, which is still as young as ever. Yes! was premiered at the Théâtre des Capucines on 26 January 1928 and was an immediate hit: this story of a complicated marriage, moving between Le Touquet and London, was to remain on the bill for years to come. The version presented here by Les Frivolités Parisiennes is as close as possible to the spirit of the work’s premiere, and includes all available musical material. With the exceptional participation of Clément Rochefort as narrator.

REVIEWS:

Back in the 1920s and 30s, Maurice Yvain was the undisputed king of the boulevards, his catchy tunes whistled and hummed dans les rues. In 1919, he had a hit with Dansez-vous le foxtrot?, sung by his former army pal Maurice Chevalier. The following year saw the first of many collaborations with the redoubtable actress and singer Mistinguett: Mon Homme was another winner, going on to be sung by Barbra Streisand in Funny Girl.

It was Chevalier who introduced him to Albert Willemetz, a gifted writer of situational farce, whose witty libretti graced a string of popular operettas with one foot in comic opera and one in musicals. Yes!, based on Totte et sa chance (Totte and her luck), a bestselling novel by Pierre Soulaine and René Pujol, opened at the tiny Théâtre des Capucines on 26 January 1928. It was an immediate hit, rapidly transferring to larger theatres before playing all over France and even as far as Hungary. The plot is frivolous, funny and typically French. With its emphasis on marriage, morals and mistresses it is also entirely of its time. Parisian playboy Maxime Gavard lives off his tyrannical father, a wealthy pasta manufacturer known to all as ‘the Noodle King’. When he’s ordered to marry Marquita, an exotic beauty from Valparaiso, his current amour, Madame de Saint-Églefin whose dim-witted husband happens to get on famously with Maxime, advises him to turn out to be married already. Enter Totte, Maxime’s new manicurist, who agrees to a quickie wedding in London. Old man Gavard is duly furious. First, he decides to marry Marquita himself and then threatens to disinherit Maxime if he doesn’t divorce Totte on the spot. The ensuing web takes a deal of untangling, but after much huffing and puffing by Gavard Père all comes good in the end. Given the paucity of performing materials – shows in those days were often throwaway affairs and rearranged for available forces – Les Frivolites Parisiennes has done a thoroughly convincing job. The 34-piece orchestra oozes Gallic charm and the score is delivered with all the fizz of a freshly opened bottle of Dom Perignon. The show itself is chockfull of good tunes, which the lively cast inhabit as to the manner born. There are some cracking earworms, like Maxime’s pattering Si vous connaissiez Papa (If you knew my father), Totte’s chipper Moi je cherche un emploi (I’m looking for a job), or Papa Gavard’s pompous Le Roi Du Vermicelle (the King of Vermicelli). Other numbers display Yvain’s gifts for mood and melody. The trio Il faut chercher (You need to find) is a skilful construction owing simultaneous debts to Weill and Offenbach. Maxime and Totte’s perky duet Londres! could almost be by Poulenc, while Marquita’s delicious song about life among the gauchos channels Gershwin. Once you hear the snappily argumentative Dites à mon fils (Tell my son) I guarantee you’ll be humming the tune. Guillaume Durand’s flexible tenor makes light work of the insouciant Maxime, every word placed with character and care. He’s neatly paired with Sandrine Buendida whose sparkling soprano brings to life the resourceful Totte. Leovanie Raud and Aurélian Gasse have fun with the scheming Saint-Églefins, Irina de Baghy is a fruity Marquita and Philippe Brocard chews up the scenery as a fast and furious Gavard Père. The text is only given in French, but the story is easy to follow from the detailed synopsis and the whole thing is recorded in first-rate sound. Ooh la la, as they say en Paris.

-- Limelight Magazine

Under the artistic direction of Nicolas Altstaedt, this multi-award winning series in collaboration with the Lockenhaus Festival continues to bring to light great works of chamber music by composers who are already well known or still awaiting discovery. Schoenberg was in his early seventies when he composed his String Trio op. 45 in 1946, completing it after suffering a terrible heart attack. He told Thomas Mann that the trio reflected his physical and psychological condition of that period. The composer Constantin Regamey, born in Kiev in 1907, is little known. A Swiss of Polish descent, he was also a pianist, music critic and writer, who was appointed lecturer in Indian philology at Warsaw University in 1936. He joined the Polish Resistance in 1942 and it was at this time that he wrote his Quintet for clarinet, bassoon, violin, cello and piano.

In 1906, Komitas gave a concert and lecture in Paris. Debussy came on stage after the concert and knelt before the Armenian composer (who was also a priest, a singer and a pioneer of ethnomusicology), exclaiming: ‘I bow before your genius, Reverend Father.’

'Komitas is the voice of the land of Armenia, of its churches and its stones which remained silent for many centuries', the violinist David Haroutunian tells us. Along with the mezzo-soprano Eva Zaïcik, who is passionate about these songs, and the pianist Xénia Maliarevitch, he pays tribute to this great musician and to the French-Armenian composer Garbis Aprikian, now ninety-six years old. This heir to Komitas, a student of Olivier Messiaen, has made a major contribution to the dissemination of Armenian music, both classical and popular, in France and beyond. The album opens with his Lamento, a beautiful evocation of and touching homage to Komitas.

CONTENTS:

• Aprikian: Lamento
• Komitas: Qeler-tsoler
• Komitas: Shogher Jan
• Komitas: Shushiki of Vagharshapat
• Ganatchian: Lullaby
• Komitas: Tsirani tsar
• Komitas: Hoi Nazan Im
• Komitas: Lullaby
• Komitas: Krunk (la grue)
• Komitas: Antuni
• Hakob Aghabab: Jan, ay loosin! (Loosin yelav)
• Komitas: Yerangi
• Aprikian: Lullaby (Arr. for Violin and Piano by David Haroutunian)
• Komitas: Akh Maral Jan
• Komitas: Garoun a (printemps)
• Komitas: Chinar Es
• Komitas: Kaqavik
• Komitas: Yergink Ambel e
• Komitas: Qele, Qele
• Komitas: Dances: No. 5, Het-Araj
• Aprikian: Little Nuptial Suite
• Aprikian: Petite suite nuptial - IV. Scherzo. Réjouissances

REVIEW:

The album opens with Aprikian’s ‘Lamento’, a solemn and moving homage to Komitas, and continues with 5 other pieces by Aprikian and one each by Ganatchian and Achabab. The other 16 pieces are by Komitas. Songs of grief and sadness, separation from loved ones and rejoicing over times of reunion, lullabies, hardship, and homelessness alternate with instrumental pieces. Many reflect the Armenian folk tradition. A lullaby by Aprikian is especially lovely.

The performances are superb. Eva Zaicik, who impressed me greatly in her recent Nisi Dominus album for Alpha, is once again outstanding in a different style. She adapts easily to the vocal demands of this music, with silky singing in a quiet low register and smooth warmth in her higher brighter voice. In a similar way, David Haroutunian draws viola tones from his lower register and high-pitched almost ghostly effects, perhaps from playing sul ponticello (bowing near the bridge). Xenia Maliarevitch is a wonderfully attentive pianist.

When this arrived I didn’t know what to expect. It turned out to be a most welcome arrival that has appreciably broadened my musical horizon. Each time I listen I find something new to appreciate.

Notes, texts and translations incuded.

-- American Record Guide

On his second album for Alpha Classics, rising star violinist Kerson Leong juxtaposes the Violin Concertos of Bruch and Benjamin Britten. This unusual pairing is a reflection on the journey from one extreme of expression to another. Bruch’s In Memoriam is the perfect bridge between them. “The Britten expresses a raw and exposed experience, while the Bruch is comforting and uplifting. After the last few years in which the world has experienced much difficulty and uncertainty due to pandemic, war, and crisis, recording this album in London in January 2021 with the Philharmonia Orchestra and Patrick Hahn was a profoundly cathartic moment. It is in the spirit of catharsis that I offer this album.” - Kerson Leong

REVIEW:

The clincher for me was the lead work on the disc, Britten’s Violin Concerto, which actually has enjoyed a rash of recent recordings by “name” players, but none that has managed to make sense of the piece for me – or even particularly to like it. Leong changed that for me, and when an artist can overcome my resistance and make me hear a work in a different perspective, one that illuminates its beauty and elucidates its soul, that is worthy of a Want List entry.

-- Fanfare

Kerson Leong’s splendid account of the Bruch comes hot on the heels of [other recordings, but] Leong’s take on the piece is more outgoing in expression. Leong’s generosity of phrase and tone, for instance, comes unashamedly from the chest in the songful reaches of the slow movement, and in the finale where the big tune bears down on the G string he really tugs at our emotions.

The bonus addition here is Bruch’s littleheard but substantial tribute to Joseph Joachim, In memoriam, which is as turbulent as it is reflective, as befitting the legendary violinist’s fighting spirit, and gives Leong further opportunity to sing from the heart. My thoughts occasionally turned to Elgar and the more than a hint of nobilmente that it proffers.

But it is the coupling of the Britten Violin Concerto (gratifyingly becoming more and more core repertoire these days) which...sets this disc apart. The inspiration here was another violinist, Antonio Brosa, but more self-evidently, through the Spanish inflections in its material, it’s a meditation on that most divisive of civil wars – something which clearly distressed and exercised Britten, the pacifist. This is the composer at his most elegiac and unsettled (is it major or minor?) and Leong is clearly at one with its inner tussles – but also with all the extraordinary sparks of originality which make it unmistakably Britten: like the powerful coda of the first movement which pits the soloist’s abrasive pizzicato against deeply meditative strings only to have him grow more and more prayerful with the music’s ascendancy.

The kinship with Shostakovich is startling in the trenchant Scherzo, which Leong digs into with great resilience, but again the entry of the tuba with violin and piccolo in extremis high above the stave is pure Britten, as is the emotive orchestral climax.

But Leong really makes his mark with the concluding Passacaglia, a form so beloved of both Britten and Shostakovich as a metaphorical anchor in times of great stress. Suddenly psychological ambiguities are set aside and in the wake of one war Britten becomes contentious objector of all. The tragedy catches in his throat and the music of those closing pages – movingly projected by Leong – chokes on the soloist’s final utterances. With outstanding collaboration from Patrick Hahn and the Philharmonia Orchestra I can’t recall a better account of the piece than this.

-- Gramophone

Ever since the foundation of his ensemble in 2009, Damien Guillon has been forging ahead in the (re)discovery of J. S. Bach’s cantatas. ‘Trinitatis’ is devoted to three cantatas for the season after Trinity, for which Le Banquet Celeste has assembled its most seasoned members. Three very different works in which Bach expresses in various ways the emotion that the subject of the prescribed Gospel for the day stirred in him.

‘London, April 1604. With the freshly printed partbooks of his Lachrimae under his arm, John Dowland walks from the printing house to his home in Fetter Lane. He should have been back in Denmark long ago, but for the moment all his thoughts are on the new publication he is carrying, his latest and most ambitious work to date: a complete cycle of instrumental music, twenty-one dances, honourably dedicated to Anne of Denmark, Queen of England.’ For Dowland has just completed one of the greatest masterpieces of Renaissance music. He had left England to enter the service of the Danish court, disappointed at not being appointed court composer to Elizabeth I, but he seems to have made the best of all his setbacks to compose this magnificent collection of purely instrumental works, much of it bathed in the melancholy typical of late sixteenth-century England.

Musicall Humors – a collective of the finest gambists of their generation – performs the complete set of pavans, galliards and ‘almands’, grouped into suites, each with its own character. A character inspired by the music, but reinforced here by the changing composition of the consort and the players taking turns to perform the ‘top line’, so that each musician’s personal playing style gives each piece a specific colour.

REVIEWS:

Dunford immerses the five-person gamba ensemble led by Julien Léonard and Lucile Boulanger in a rich and often extremely fragile-seeming web of voices and moods with a composure and sovereignty that moves and inspires. Everything breathes in the most wonderfully sonorous interplay, nothing groaning excessively. And when they dance, they maintain their posture and dignity like a dream.

-- ConcertoNet

We are faced with an absolutely referential recording, of intense and unprecedented beauty. Musicall Humors offers us the complete collection, but in a sequence of pavans followed by galliards, which refreshes our ears with the contrast, compared to the usual arrangement.

-- Scherzo

 

Two years after her recording of Mozart's piano concertos KV 271 and KV 459, Olga Pashchenko returns to the Il Gardellino ensemble for the concertos KV 466 and KV 488. KV 466 is in D minor, a key that Mozart often uses to express the anger of his female characters in his operas. KV 488 was composed a year later in 1786 and is in the luminous key of A major, although without losing any of the theatrical dynamism of KV 466. They represent an almost dramatic, pre-Romantic theatricality for Nicolas Derny, who sees these concertos as the precursors of two of Mozart's greatest masterpieces: the Requiem and Le nozze di Figaro. Olga Pashchenko here plays a replica of an Anton Walter fortepiano (ca. 1792) built by Paul McNulty.

"Johann Sebastian Bach used the recorder in two Brandenburg concertos and some twenty cantatas and oratorios, but alas, he left us no sonata with harpsichord," say Julien Martin and Olivier Fortin. Arranging chamber music for a variety of instrumental ensembles was a widespread practice in the eighteenth century. Bach himself seems to have created a number of works that did not necessarily require the use of a specific instrument. Here Julien Martin and Olivier Fortin, musical partners for many years, present the Sonata in F major, originally written for transverse flute and continuo, transcriptions of the Trio Sonata for organ No. 3 in E minor, the Partita for violin No. 2 in G minor, and the Chorale 'Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland', whose extensive ornamental flourishes elongate and transform the chorale melody to the point of rendering it unrecognisable.

In 1907, Florent Schmitt composed music to accompany a ‘mimodrame’ danced by Loïe Fuller, La Tragédie de Salomé. His score is bursting with colour, energy, and voluptuousness – and also with oriental influences stemming from his travels to Morocco and Constantinople, where he discovered the howling dervishes. The final scene features the heart-rending ‘Chant d’Aïça’, an oriental melody sung by a soprano. This music, though bold and modern for the listeners of 1907, nonetheless aroused the admiration of another composer, Igor Stravinsky, to whom Schmitt dedicated the Symphonic Suite he subsequently derived from the work. However, Alain Altinoglu, at the helm of the Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra of which he has been Music Director since 2021, has chosen to record the original version of this landmark of early twentieth-century French music. The beautiful Chant élégiaque, in its 1911 version for cello and large orchestra, completes this programme.

During the Carnival of Venice in 1637, a play ‘rappresentata in musica’ was opened to the public for the first time – a success. Opera was born and spread like wildfire. Venice had the largest number of theaters in the world. In 1677, the Teatro Sant’Angelo opened its doors on the campo of the same name. Tiny, chaotic, cheap and extremely productive, it was renowned for its musicians and its sets. This effervescence owes much to the figure of Vivaldi who, from 1705 onwards, regularly premiered his operas there and acted (with his father) as impresario. His own Arsilda, L’incoronazione di Dario and La verità in cimento triumphed there, but he also invited composers such as the young Fortunato Chelleri and Giovanni Alberto Ristori. The mezzo-soprano Adèle Charvet and her partners in Le Consort pay tribute to all these composers with a flamboyant program that mixes famous arias and world premieres – no fewer than twelve of them!

REVIEW:

Venice’s Sant’Angelo Theatre opened its doors to the public in 1677. Though never the grandest of the Serenissima’s opera houses, it nonetheless attracted important names, including Antonio Vivaldi. Alongside a selection of Vivaldi arias, this album includes a dozen first recordings unveiling other composers who trod the theater’s boards. Spanning the gamut of Baroque affects, the program contrasts frothy arias with tragic outpourings and displays of vocal fireworks.

Adèle Charvet dispatches the showpieces with agility and bravura, but her velvety voice is particularly well suited to the pathos arias which are eloquently articulated; just occasionally her vibrato wavers a little intrusively. She’s superbly supported by Ensemble Le Consort who, under the brilliant young violinist Théotime Langlois de Swarte, perform with fire, passion and breathtaking virtuosity.

-- BBC Music Magazine

During the long era when Bach, Mozart and Beethoven were creating the musical canon of Western Europe, the songs of enslaved Africans resounded in the colonies on the other side of the Atlantic, expressing pain and longing, but also joy and the desire for freedom. The American countertenor Reginald Mobley - a rising figure in baroque music, notably under the direction of John Eliot Gardiner with whom he sings very regularly - and the French pianist Baptiste Trotignon, winner of numerous awards (Victoires du Jazz, Django d'Or) have combined their talents and sensibilities to celebrate these spirituals and the music of Black composers including Harry T. Burleigh (1866-1949) and Florence Price (1887-1953), whose beautiful transcriptions and melodies blend with Baptiste Trotignon's subtle arrangements of the famous Sometimes I feel like a motherless child or I got a robe... The melody "Because", composed by Florence Price on a poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar, inspired the title of the album: Because I had loved so hard (...) Because I had loved so vainly... Why this album? Because...

CONTENTS:

• anon.: Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
• trad.: Were you there?
• trad.: I Got a Robe
• Trotignon: Why
• Price, Florence: Because
• trad.: Steal away
• trad.: Save Me Lord, Save Me
• trad.: Bright Sparkles in the Churchyard
• trad.: Nobody knows the trouble I seen
• Price, Florence: Resignation
• anon.: A Great Campmeetin'
• Price, Florence: Sunset
• trad.: My Lord, What a Mornin'
• anon.: By an’ by / There is a Balm in Gilead
• Barrett Strong, Norman Whitfield: I Heard It Through the Grapevine
• anon.: Deep river

REVIEWS:

On their new album Because, American countertenor and early-music specialist Reginald Mobley and French pianist Baptiste Trotignon offer a collection of music from the Renaissance.

No, not that Renaissance.

The album is an updated compendium of Negro spirituals...and art songs published, collected, or written in and around the Harlem Renaissance — a period of revival in Black art, literature, culture, and music that spread from the Manhattan neighborhood throughout the United States and the Western world in the early 20th century...this movement and these songs have impacted American music on a scale that is unsurpassed, from jazz to pop to hip-hop, as well as a significant body of classical repertoire.

With Because, his first solo album, [Mobley] offers a powerful portrait addressing the musical legacy of Black spirituals and the complicated paradoxes contained within them: themes of bondage and salvation, power and tenderness, pain and beauty, spirituality and temporality.

We rarely hear a countertenor wade into this repertoire, and Mobley’s voice, which seems to get better by the year, is wonderfully pristine. Like good champagne, his tone is both effervescent and rich. In 20th-century art songs such as Florence Price’s “Because I Had Loved So Deeply” or Harry Burleigh’s “Jean,” or traditional spirituals like “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?” and “Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen,” he does not produce sound so much as spin it in long, sumptuous phrases.

As an accompanist and arranger, Trotignon is both resourceful and inventive, and it’s clear that he also lives and breathes this music.

-- Early Music America

“For this recording we have created an imaginary ‘battle of the bows’ between Vivaldi, Veracini, Tartini and Locatelli, the ‘four musketeers’ of the violin in Venice during the first half of the 18th century”, said Chouchane Siranossian and Andrea Marcon. “Corelli died in 1713 and passed the torch on to his heirs… Venice then became the setting for merciless rivalries. The violin became an instrument of confrontation, an ideal weapon for demonstrating virtuosity and technical prowess. The player’s ultimate goal was to astonish the listener and to demonstrate his own bravura, to the point that certain narcissistic tendencies of the player were often exaggerated.” Chouchane Siranossian, whose virtuosity was described as "diabolical" by the Sunday Times and who “hit the nail on the head” according to Classica on her Tartini recording (Alpha596, Choc), is the ideal interpreter of these high-risk concertos, with the fresh and knowledgeable support of Andrea Marcon and his Venetian ensemble.

The baritone Georg Nigl is fascinated by ballads, which unfold in him "dream images". Schubert's long and little-known lied Viola, based on a poem by Franz von Schober, or the great ballads based on texts by Goethe "opened up a world that has always accompanied me, that of the storyteller (...) stories of frightening beauty, with as many colours as possible...". The magnificent pianos on this recording - a Christoph Kern fortepiano after Conrad Graf (Vienna, 1826) and a Steinway & Sons concert grand piano (New York, 1875) - beautifully played by Olga Pashchenko, with whom Georg now forms an intimate and inspired duo, allow us to hear "unknown sounds and sometimes unheard-of colours"...

The first performance of Anton Bruckner’s Seventh Symphony at the Zurich Tonhalle took place on 14 January 1924, to mark the centenary of the composer’s birth. Under the direction of Walter, Furtwängler, Klemperer, Böhm and Karajan (to name but a few!), the orchestra has since given many performances of this monumental work which was its composer’s first great success and which the conductor Hermann Levi considered ‘the most significant composition since the death of Beethoven’. The orchestra’s Brucknerian tradition is perpetuated with this cycle conducted by its music director Paavo Järvi, which will continue with the Eighth and Ninth Symphonies until 2024, the year of Bruckner’s bicentenary.

Baritone Konstantin Krimmel, voted ‘Best Newcomer’ of the year at the 2023 Oper! Awards in Germany and a member of the eminent Bavarian State Opera company since 2021, presents his third recording for Alpha. In close partnership with pianist Daniel Heide, he places his artistry and his feeling for words at the service of the lied repertory. This is also an opportunity to discover his vision of the work, an unexpectedly contemporary, socio-psychological analysis: ‘Die schöne Müllerin is a work that romanticises the development of a mental illness, and shows, unfiltered, how a young person can feel without a tempered emotional world. With all its dark sides.’

Giorgi Gigashvili is only twenty-two, but he is already hitting the headlines: now a pupil of Nelson Goerner, he is a protégé of Martha Argerich, who gave him the urge to play the piano alongside his first love, pop singing: at the age of thirteen, he was a contestant in The Voice in his homeland, Georgia, and won the prize! A few years later, Argerich discovered him at a piano competition, and he went on to win prizes at several more, including the Hortense Anda-Bührle Prize at the Géza Anda Competition in Zurich in 2021. Another high-flying mentor, the violinist Lisa Batiashvili, asked him to play him the piano on her recording of the Franck Violin Sonata. His free and spectacular playing impresses, his creativity and personality astonish. Here he presents his first recital, revealing his palette of colours: Scarlatti, Beethoven, Scriabin and Messiaen. But never far away is his shadow, the singer of the electro band Tsduneba (‘temptation’ in Georgian) which he founded with his friends.

Venice was surely the capital of music and the arts in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and one of the most coveted positions in the city was that of maestro di cappella at St. Mark’s Basilica. A few lucky chosen candidates succeeded one another in bringing to life the musical splendour of the basilica, all of them fabulous musicians and composers prolonging the legacy of the great Claudio Monteverdi. For its third recording on Alpha, the ensemble Les Surprises has chosen to sail towards Venetian waters and mix with these geniuses of affect, word-setting and theatre, exploring music that ranges from grandiose double choruses to intimate duets or trios combining sacred and profane.

‘So Romantique!’ illustrates the ‘profoundly sentimental’ side of French opera from the 1830s to the 1900s, which gradually came to be judged overwrought and was condemned to partial oblivion. ‘I am convinced that this is because the principals of interpretation were lost’, says the tenor Cyrille Dubois. ‘I have therefore put together this programme, which gives pride of place to rarities while highlighting the theatrical character and the use of registers so emblematic of the French ténor de grâce, in the hope of restoring this precious French heritage to its former glory.’ The sleuthing skills of the Palazzetto Bru Zane have assembled these treasures by Bizet, Gounod, Saint-Saëns, Auber, Halévy, Donizetti, Thomas and Delibes, the less well-known Godard, Dubois and Silver, and the virtually unknown Luce-Varlet and Clapisson. With the Orchestre National de Lille conducted by Pierre Dumoussaud, the French tenor deploys the full range of his artistry, the impressive high notes, the luminous tone and the graceful phrasing that is ‘so Cyrille’!

Hervé Niquet resurrects Ariane et Bacchus (1696), using for the first time the exact performing forces and layout of the Paris Opéra orchestra in 1700 and thus giving us a historically informed version of this tragédie en musique by Marin Marais. The latter became a viol player at the Académie Royale de Musique in 1676, just as his mentor Lully's Atys triumphed there. Lully subsequently initiated him into the skills of operatic composition, and Ariane et Bacchus was premiered nine years after the older man's death. This production, made possible by the support of the Centre de Musique Baroque de Versailles, was performed in concert at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées to great acclaim in 2022, when Diapason wrote that the work was 'deservedly rescued from oblivion' and was 'magnified by a sober and telling interpretation from Hervé Niquet and Le Concert Spirituel, in perfect consonance with a remarkable cast', featuring such luminaries as Judith van Wanroij, Véronique Gens, Mathias Vidal, Hélène Carpentier, Marie Perbost, Matthieu Lécroart, David Witczak, Tomislav Lavoie and Philippe Estèphe.

REVIEW:

The singers are largely splendid. I have praised Judith Van Wanroij, Veronique Gens, Mathias Vidal, and Matthieu Lecroart on previous occasions, in wildly varying repertory (by such composers as Gretry, Felicien David, Gounod, and Saint-Saens). Here they offer exemplary renderings, never allowing concern for the music to interfere with their attention to text or vice-versa. Some of the low-voiced males are a little thin at the bottom end, but that’s not unusual these days in the opera world.

Some of the singers take more than one role (there’s a long prologue, with entirely different roles than the rest of the opera), so you’ll want to follow the libretto, which is given in the booklet in French and good English. If you don’t follow the libretto, you might easily be misled when a singer keeps mentioning the name of a character: s/he is actually often speaking of her/himself. Juno, for one, loves to describe her feelings in the third person. The effect, in her case, strikes me as properly haughty. Fortunately, the various singers have distinctive enough voices and interpretive manners that I gradually learned to tell them apart without recourse to the libretto. Actually, one of the wonderful things about French Baroque opera is that the musical numbers are constantly attractive, with a dance or march or pantomime scene always around the corner. And the phrase structure is often unpredictable, unlike the foursquareness of much music of the late 1700s and early 1800s. So you could, I suppose, listen to Marais’s opera without looking at the libretto at all (or even thinking about the rather episodic plot) and still have a fine time and enjoy many surprises.

Still, the experience is that much richer if you know what Junon or Adraste (to use their French names) is up to at a given moment.

Wow, there’s a whole ‘nother side to Marais that I knew nothing about!

-- American Record Guide

Mozart’s Requiem was not performed in Paris until 1804, in a version slightly different from the composer’s original score. The press reported a triumph. That same year also saw the coronation of Napoleon Bonaparte – who had brought back a pronounced taste for Italian music from his Mediterranean conquests. He appointed the Neapolitan Giovanni Paisiello (1740-1816) as his maître de chapelle and commissioned him to write the music for his coronation: a Solemn Mass in B flat major. The Palazzetto Bru Zane has produced the modern edition of the work that is recorded here.

Aside from the sumptuous events of 1804, the other year that links Napoleon to Mozart is 1841, when the Requiem was heard once more, this time at Les Invalides as Napoleon’s remains entered the building for their final burial. Sandrine Piau, Chantal Santon, Eléonore Pancrazi, Mathias Vidal and Thomas Dolié are the soloists in this programme, with Julien Chauvin conducting his ensemble Le Concert de la Loge and the Namur Chamber Choir.

The 'Dissonance' Quartet is probably the best-known of the set of six Mozart wrote between 1782 and 1785 as a tribute to Haydn. It owes its nickname to the strange clashes of the slow introduction in C minor. Almost a century later, the thirty-year-old Tchaikovsky wrote his Quartet no.1, op.11, whose second movement, which moved Tolstoy to tears, was inspired by a folk tune that the composer heard a housepainter whistling. The musicians of the Esmé Quartet chose these two pieces because they love their respective Andante cantabile movements. The four young women also decided to put the spotlight on one of their compatriots, the South Korean composer Soo Yeon Lyuh, who in 2016 wrote Yessori, 'sound of the past', for the Kronos Quartet. She explains: 'I first got used to playing the piano and the violin. So, later, when I encountered Korean traditional music, its relative pitch relationships and fluid rhythmic cycles felt completely new.'