Classical Music

C. SCHUMANN Piano Trio in g, Op. 17. SCHUMANN Fantasiestücke, Op. 88. Piano Trio No. 3 in g, Op. 110 • Swiss Pn Tr • AUDITE 92549 (SACD: 77:42)


This is now the third occasion on which I’ve been privileged to review a new release by the outstanding Swiss Piano Trio. The ensemble’s Mendelssohn trios received an urgent recommendation from me in 34:6, and its account of Tchaikovsky’s Trio, if not quite as enthusiastically received by me in 36:3, still earned my nod of approval. Expectations for this Schumann disc thus ran high, and, I’m happy to report, they were not disappointed.


Clara Schumann (1819–1896) was a devoted wife, loving mother, accomplished pianist, and, no doubt, a composer of some talent. But I’ve always felt that her eminence in the latter capacity has been exaggerated both by virtue of her being spouse to one of the most famous of romantic composers and for being somewhat of that 19th-century novelty, a female composer. It has thus come about that when someone is asked to name three or four women composers, Clara Schumann invariably tops the list. Yet, if one 19th-century composer of the female gender deserves equal billing with her male counterparts, it’s not Clara Schumann or Fanny Mendelssohn; it’s Louise Farrenc (1804–1875), a composer who wrote symphonies and chamber works on a scale and of a quality comparable to many of her male contemporaries.


The Piano Trio in G Minor, dated 1846, is Clara’s only large-scale chamber work; in fact, it’s her only chamber work of any scale, period. Most of her catalog consists of songs and pieces for solo piano, though, as a teenager, and later, with the help of her husband to be, she did try her hand at a Piano Concerto. The trio was long held to be Clara’s crowning compositional achievement; some even credited it with being the inspiration for Robert’s first numbered Trio in D Minor, op. 63, written the following year. Thus, I was rather surprised to find fewer recordings of Clara’s opus listed than I would have expected; and of those currently in the catalog, more than one logically pairs it with Fanny Mendelssohn’s Trio in D Minor, written in the same year, 1846.


Whether pairing Clara’s trio with Robert’s third and final Trio in G Minor, composed in 1851, is a logical choice or not, I can’t say, although it seems to me that juxtaposing Robert’s D Minor, the one supposedly inspired by Clara’s effort, would have made more sense. However, in addition to Robert’s G-Minor Trio, Clara’s trio also shares the disc with Robert’s 1842 Fantasiestücke , which, though otherwise named, is his actual first work in the medium, though not designated or numbered as such. The present program therefore makes this new release unique, at least insofar as other current listings are concerned, although another recent disc, which also happens to be in SACD format, contains Clara’s trio and Robert’s G Minor-Trio, but not Robert’s Fantasiestücke . That recording by the Boulanger Trio on the Ars Produktion label was filled out with a work for piano trio by Wolfgang Rihm, and was favorably reviewed by Steven E. Ritter in 33:5


I’ve not heard the Boulanger disc, but the playing here by the Swiss Piano Trio leaves nothing to be desired. I doubt that Clara’s trio has ever received a more loving performance. The only word that describes the ensemble’s tone is voluptuous, and Audite’s perfectly positioned and balanced recording affords that ideal sweet-spot perspective. I do agree with Steven that Clara’s trio is not Robert’s. One has only to listen to the first few bars of Robert’s G-Minor Trio to recognize the difference between talent and genius. But I honestly have to say that I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated Robert’s trio as much as I have in this performance. The Swiss players seem to be absolutely swept away by the score, sweeping me away in turn. It doesn’t even feel like they’re performing the piece as much as they’re becoming one with it and living and breathing it.


This is definitely going on my provisional list of Want List candidates for 2013, and I most strongly urge you to acquire it. The Swiss Piano Trio, in my opinion, has rapidly risen to become one of the very top piano trio ensembles on today’s stage.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins    

Beethoven's trios make up a significant portion of his instrumental music, not least due to the fact that the three so-called "Lichnowsky" Trios of 1795 were his opus 1, representing the official beginning of his oeuvre. With them, Beethoven asserted a comprehensive and unmistakable artistic aspiration, aiming at a consolidation of symphonic and concertante elements and a compression of the form by planned thematic, rhythmic and harmonic organisation. The juxtaposition of the first Trio, Op. 1,1, in E flat major, and the last Trio, the "Archduke", Op. 97, premièred in 1814, on the one hand reveals the enormous degree in subjectivisation and creative might which Beethoven had gained during the course of the intervening two decades, and on the other hand brings to mind the numerous significant parallels showing the extent to which Beethoven detached the piano trio from its original function as courtly or bourgeois entertainment, awarding it the highest measure of artistic autonomy. - Audite

Franziska Pietsch and Detlev Eisinger make their audite debut with the three sonatas for violin and piano by the great 19th c. Romanticist Edvard Grieg, who himself rated these three sonatas as amongst his best works. Violinist Franziska Pietsch gave her debut at the Komische Oper Berlin aged eleven, after which she regularly performed as a soloist in the GDR until leaving East Germany in 1986, enabling her to pursue a career in the West. Pianist Detlev Eisinger gave his first piano recital at age thirteen, his busy international career now almost three decades long.

Roland Glassl presents this new album of Suites for Solo Viola. This album contains compositions by Max Reger, Adolf Busch, and Justus Weinreich. +The Suites by Justus Weinreich are receiving their premiere recording with this release. Roland Glassl enjoys a rich performing career as a soloist and chamber musician, and teaches at the Hochschule fur Musik und Darstellende Kunst Frankfurt am Main.

SCHOENBERG Pierrot Lunaire. 1 Chamber Symphony No. 1. 2 Piano Concerto 3. Fantasy for Violin and Piano 4. The Book of the Hanging Gardens. 5 Psalm 130, De Profundius. 6 3 Piano Pieces, Op. 11 7. 6 Little Piano Pieces, Op. 19 8. 5 Pieces, Op. 23 9. 2 Pieces, Opp. 33a, 33b 10. String Trio, Op. 45 11. Suite in G for String Orchestra: Movements 1, 2, 4 12. BERG Lyric Suite. 13 4 Pieces for Clarinet and Piano, Op. 5 14. 7 Early Songs 15. Schliesse mir die Augen beide 16. WEBERN Passacaglia, Op. 1. 17 5 Pieces for Orchestra, Op. 10 18. 4 Pieces for Violin and Piano, Op. 7 19 & • Suzanne Danco (sop); 5 Magda László (sop); 15 Evelyn Lear (sop); 16 Irmen Burmester (sprechstimme); 1 Hans Bastiaan (vn); 1 André Gertler (vn); 19 Rudolf Kolisch (vn); 4 Erich Röhn (vn); 11 Tibor Varga (vn); 4 Ernst Doberitz (va); 11 Walter Müller (va); 1 Werner Haupt (vc); 1 Arthur Troester (vc); 11 Hans Peter Schmitz (fl); 1 Alfred Bürkner (cl); 1 Heinrich Geuser (cl); 14 Diane Andersen (pn); 19 Klaus Billing (pn); 1,14,20,21 Lothar Broddack (pn); 15 Hans Hilsdorf (pn); 16 Else C. Kraus (pn); 10 Ernst Krenek (pn); 4 Hermann Reutter (pn); 5 Peter Stadlen (pn); 3 Eduard Steuermann (pn); 7-9 Alan Willman (pn); 4 Emil Hammermeister (hrm); 20,21 Végh Quartet; 13 Bastiaan Quartet; 20,21 Günther Arndt, cond; 6 Ferenc Fricsay, cond; 2,12 Bruno Maderna, cond; 18 Arthur Rother, cond; 17 Josef Rufer, cond; 1 Winfried Zillig, cond; 3 RIAS CCh; 6 RIAS SO; 2,3 Berlin RSO; 17,18 Berlin PO 12 • AUDITE 21.412, mono (4 CDs: 299:54 Text and Translation) Live: Berlin 3 2/6/1949; 12 11/28/1949; 4 8/28/1953 (Kolisch)


& J. STRAUSS II 20 Roses from the South (arr. Schoenberg). 21 The Gypsy Baron: Treasure Waltz (arr. Webern)


Having been banned as “degenerate” during the Third Reich, by the end of World War II the experimental work of what is now called the Second Viennese School was, at best, on the fringes of German public perception. The three composers who made up the school as such were dead (Berg in 1935 and Webern in 1945) or self-exiled to the U.S. (Schoenberg). There were few performances of their work in postwar Europe and even fewer commercial recordings. So Hans Heinz Stuckenschmidt, the editor of new music at the RIAS in occupied West Berlin, and Schoenberg’s conductor-colleague Josef Rufer, sought out musicians—many from the composers’ circle of students and friends—to record and broadcast some of the most important works of these three pivotal modernists. This was more than an act of national contrition for Stuckenschmidt and Rufer. They intended to revive the performing traditions that had been developing in Berlin in the 1920s and ’30s, and cultivate a new generation of performers. They hoped, as well, to create more interest in the listening public through greater familiarity.


Audite’s four-disc The RIAS Second Viennese School Project presents a selection of these RIAS performances recorded between 1949 and 1965. The pieces, written between 1906 and 1950, provide an overview of the arc of the school’s development from the quartal harmonies of Schoenberg’s Chamber Symphony No. 1, to the stricter 12-tone serial techniques of works like the Two Piano Pieces, op. 33a & b, to the still dodecaphonic but increasingly personal works like his Piano Concerto and String Trio. While these works are often collectively written off as austere and unapproachable, the reality revealed here is rather different. Though the uninitiated will still find some of the going rough—there are works by these composers that are still cutting-edge these many decades later—this compilation persuasively argues that wholesale dismissal of the oeuvre of these composers is intellectual laziness. Most of the music here is not all that taxing to ears attuned to music of the last century.


Perhaps the problem in perception is one of interpretive tradition. Performers have tended to fall into two camps: those who take a coolly objective approach, and those—most often not of the composers’ close circle—who treat these pieces as they would any romantic work. This is most tellingly illustrated by the inclusion of two performances of the Fantasy for Violin and Piano , op. 47; one by objectivist Schoenberg disciple (and brother-in-law) Rudolf Kolisch and the other by famed Hungarian violinist Tibor Varga. Prewar, Schoenberg reputedly demanded adherence to the letter of the score, and often seemed to enjoy his reputation for inflexibility and aloof intellectualism. But later, the composer praised a recording of Varga’s more spontaneous take on his violin concerto, concluding that, “I wish to be younger to be able to write more music for you.” It is not hard to imagine that this more subjective interpretation of the Fantasy might have similarly earned the composer’s approval. Release annotator Wolfgang Rathert quotes Schoenberg’s concerns regarding Kolisch’s quest for executional perfection, and Schoenberg/Berg scholar Rudolf Stephan, interviewed for the program notes, states that Vargas distinguished himself in this repertoire “because he approached the piece[s] as a musician.” It takes only a measure of heart to reveal the Mahlerian late-romanticism in many of Schoenberg’s scores, and it is perhaps the lack of this heart in many performances that has stood in the way of acceptance. Indeed, this question of effective interpretation of the works of Schoenberg in particular is central to this release, and is explored at some length in Rathert’s illuminating essay and in the interview.


Schoenberg’s students Berg and Webern are represented as well, though by less than an hour of the former and barely 20 minutes of the latter. Berg’s works have always presented fewer problems to listeners. He has been accepted where Schoenberg has not in part because he wears his romantic inclinations on his sleeve and is never as unbending in his application of serial techniques. Webern was a keener serialist than even his mentor after 1925, but he is represented here by works that predate his adoption of Schoenberg’s more radical innovations.


So, is this then the ideal place for the serious listener wishing to come to terms with the Second Viennese School to begin? Certainly, as a broad sampling in several genres of historical performances of the composers’ compositions, this is quite attractive. The vocal works in particular are represented by outstanding performances. Suzanne Danco’s 1955 recording of Schoenberg’s The Book of the Hanging Gardens has been equaled only by Jan DeGaetani’s more detailed but less opulent reading. Irmen Burmester narrates a strikingly accurate Pierrot lunaire —more so than Schoenberg’s 1940 Columbia recording—which, led by Rufer, is alive to all the paradoxes of the work—art high and low—and the vivid imagery of the text. Evelyn Lear gives flawless performances of Berg’s contrasting settings of Theodor Storm’s Schliesse Mir die Augen Beide , while Hungarian soprano Magda László offers the same composer’s 7 Early Songs with less technical perfection but enormous sensitivity and beauty. The RIAS Chamber Chorus sings a fearless account of the harrowing and technically daunting De Profundis, op. 50b, though later performances—Accentus on Naïve comes to mind—have found more beauty in the severity.


Highlighting the fine chamber work performances included are a warmhearted and ultimately haunting performance of Berg’s Lyric Suite by the Vegh Quartet and an aptly neurotic performance of Schoenberg’s heart-attack-inspired String Trio, op. 45 by Erich Röhn and two other veterans of Furtwängler’s Berlin Philharmonic. Hungarian violinist André Gertler finds real warmth in Webern’s 4 Pieces for Violin and Piano, op.7, and Heinrich Geuser plays the 4 Pieces for Clarinet and Piano with uncommon tenderness. The two Strauss transcriptions are as charmingly done as those of the Boston Chamber Players (DG): high praise indeed.


I am less convinced, however, that Eduard Steuermann is an ideal guide for the piano works (but see contra Fanfare 34:4) though given his scrupulous approach, the playing is irreproachable. Peter Hill (Naxos) brings more color, Viennese grace, and a romantic sensibility, and the charismatic Mitsuko Uchida (Philips) offers a wonderful sense of mystery and atmosphere. Uchida brings similar qualities to the piano concerto, where she and Pierre Boulez find more of Schoenberg’s war-weariness than Peter Stadlen does. Ultimately though, it is the limitations of Stadlen’s 1949 live recording, with recessed orchestra and the insecurity of the RIAS ensemble at that time, which undermines his as a model. Still, other than a loving but wrong-headed performance of three movements of Schoenberg’s Suite for String Orchestra by the usually perceptive Ferenc Fricsay, the orchestral works fare well in this series. Fricsay redeems himself with a strong performance of the Chamber Symphony No. 1. There is, as well, a Webern Passacaglia, op. 1, conducted by Arthur Rother which emphasizes its Brahmsian longing, and a polished gem of a reading of his Five Pieces, op. 10, led by conductor/dodecaphonic composer Bruno Maderna.


All recordings are monaural, though generally clean and transparent with the slight edginess on the top typical of RIAS master-tape releases from this source. Some of the older tapes show signs of deterioration, but they have been repaired expertly. The earliest recordings exhibit the extreme highlighting of the soloists that was common radio practice then, but this is really only to the detriment of the Schoenberg concerto. The supporting material is brilliantly done, with the aforementioned essay and interview, plus notes on the interpreters and recordings, full recording data, and all sung texts. Collectors who already admire these works will certainly want this set for its historical significance. In the end though, I must answer my question regarding the neophyte more equivocally. Those with a musicological bent will certainly find this set fascinating. Those wishing an inexpensive introduction to the music may wish to start with the superb Robert Craft recordings of Schoenberg and Webern on Naxos in modern sound. In the end, though, this is an essential purchase on many levels and, if I haven’t made it clear already, an addition to the discography of the Second Viennese School of immense value.


FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames

Pilar Lorengar, the Spanish singer whose adopted home city was Berlin, especially owed her worldwide but unobtrusive fame to the operatic stage. She was famous for a repertoire ranging from the youthful heroines of Mozart, the youthful dramatic heroines of Verdi and Puccini to tragic girlish figures such as Tchaikovsky's Tatiana and Janá?ek's Jen?fa. The three CDs of the present compilation with arias and Lieder contain sound documents from the singer's first Berlin years, studio and live recordings made between 1959 and 1962.

Lorengar shows herself from a rather unusual side in them, both in the field of opera and in the Lieder: she is not heard here in her established Mozart role of Donna Elvira, but as Donna Anna; in addition, she can be heard singing repertoire that was unusual for her, e.g. the prayer „Casta Diva" from Bellini's Norma, „Piangerò la sorte mia" from Handel's Cleopatra and a Handel cantata, an aria from a Scarlatti opera, the „Ernani, involiami" of Elvira from Verdi's early opera „Ernani" and the role of Rosario from the opera „Goyescas" by Granados.

The Mozart singer also reveals herself here to be an agreeable Lied singer; where she already brings her sensitivity for this genre into play with Mozart, she then enriches her programme with the inclusion of a love lament by Bellini and Lied-like aria sketches - four canzonette by the young Verdi.

With two thirds of this anthology, Pilar Lorengar then covers an area that pays homage to the musical traditions of her homeland. As a young schoolgirl in Madrid, she acquired extensive theatrical practice and presence in the music cafes and the zarzuela theatre. In her contributions to the present release, she unfolds a panorama of Spanish music history extending over five centuries, ranging from the vocal art of the 16th-century vihuelistas to the folklore collections and adaptations of Federico García Lorca. The modern guitar is the legitimate successor to the time-honoured vihuela, and Siegfried Behrend is Pilar Lorengar's congenial partner in theseart songs.

This release is furnished with a "producer's comment" by producer Ludger Böckenhoff.

The third volume of the complete orchestral works by Robert Schumann features the Cello Concerto and the 2nd version of the Symphony in d, two major works composed and revised during Schumann’s time as music director in Duesseldorf. + In both works, the movements of the classical model merge into one another without interruption. + Heinz Holliger's interpretations draw on a life-long study of Schumann's oeuvre, thought, personality and fate. + His approach imparts lightness and lucidity to these opulent scores, rectifying the widespread image of this romantic composer as a weak orchestrator.

Firmly established on the Early Music scene, soprano soloist Ulrike Hofbauer regularly performs together with renowned ensembles and conductors. A versatile artist, she not only appears on the concert platform but also on the opera stage and is featured on many studio and radio recordings as well as in films. She is particularly interested in the study of musical rhetoric, ornamentation and the "recitar cantando" style, making her an ideal interpreter of the works recorded here. Co'l dolce suono presents virtuosic Renaissance music for soprano, recorder and strings by Venetian artists around the composer Adrian Willaert and the singer Polissena Pecorina. Recorded with an ensemble of early Italian viols, painstakingly reconstructed following the latest scholarly findings, a new soundworld emerges: current research documents that string instruments of the early sixteenth century were built without sound posts and bass bars. Performing these sparkling Renaissance works, the sound of these instruments can now be experienced for the first time. The ensemble arcimboldo (Basel) was founded in 1991 by Thilo Hirsch. Outstanding reviews, numerous concert engagements, and frequent invitations to European festivals document the ensemble's success. Alongside radio recordings the ensemble has recorded several albums since 2005.

The Quartetto di Cremona have completed another stage in their adventurous journey through the cosmos of Beethoven's String Quartets, visiting the Quartet in G major from the Op. 18 set and the last of the Op. 59 Quartets. The performance culture and market for the string quartet in the late eighteenth century was markedly different to that of later times: the young Beethoven wrote his Quartets Op. 18 for amateurs. The G major Quartet, the second in the collection, was one such work that could bemastered by talented aristocrats and bourgeois connoisseurs - which is not tosay that its complexities or musical challenges are in any way diminished. With the so-called "Razumovsky" Quartets,the string quartet reached adulthood. And one only needs to compare the technical and intellectual demands of Op. 59 to contemporary works (such as the quartets of the young Franz Schubert) in order to recognise that Beethoven no longer composed for able amateurs, but for highly professional specialists.This becomes particularly obvious in the finale, an extended and extremely virtuosic fugue. The Quartetto di Cremona have combined these two works from Beethoven's early and middle periods for the seventh volume in their Complete Beethoven String Quartets recording series. Both works end with an "earworm" - one in the classical spirit and one in the form of a rapid fugue - finale furioso!

Schubert's eight "spontaneous inventions" from 1827 are character pieces that are among the best known and most popular works for piano. Full of rich lyricism, they are much more than trifles or whims, as the title suggests. Kemal Cem Yilmaz began studying the piano with Daniel Vodovoz in Langenhagen at the age of eight. Audiences were thrilled by his numerous public appearances as a child; already tat that time, his playing was mature and inspiring. He studied the piano with Heidi Kohler, Markus Groh, and Christopher Oakden in Hannover and with Alfredo Perl in Detmold. Concurrently with his musical studies and concertizing activities, Kemal Cem Yilmaz worked for twelve years as a taxi driver in Hannover.

Johann Bernhard Bach's four Orchestral Suites, composed for the court orchestra of the cultured duke of Saxony-Eisenach, are amongst the most varied and sophisticated musical works of the high baroque period in Middle Germany. It was not by chance that Georg Philipp Telemann, a one-time Kapellmeister at Eisenach, commented retrospectively: "I have to praise this orchestra, arranged for the most part according to the French style, for it surpassed the very famous Parisian opera orchestra." From 1703, Bernard Bach was engaged as harpsichordist in this noble orchestra. His Orchestral Suites provide the only surviving "soundtrack" of the illustrious musical life at the Eisenach court during the 1710s and 20s. And what a soundtrack: cosmopolitan, and truly European, with sparkling virtuosic brilliance, as if written by a fiery Italian, whilst displaying the elegant taste of a noble Frenchman. In other words, the "mixed taste", for which the best German composers of the late baroque period were famous, in it's finest form. Little wonder then that Bernhard Bach's suites became core repertoire for Johann Sebastian Bach's Leipzig Collegium Musicum, also influencing his compositions. All this provides sufficient motivation for the Thuringian Bach Collegium to continue their exploration through the Middle German courts for their second recording and, with unbridled enthusiasm in their music-making, to bring these jewels of the early Thuringian orchestral music back to life. Bon Appetit!

These are the original analogue tapes, which attain an astonishingly high quality, even measured by today‘s standards, with their tape speed of up to 76 cm/sec. The remastering – professionally competent and sensitively applied – also uncovers previously hidden details of the interpretations.

The conductor Leo Blech and the pianist Julian von Károlyi, whose live performance of the Chopin Second Piano Concerto given at the Berlin Titania Palast in 1950 is documented on this CD, are nowadays ranked amongst the greatest but unjustly forgotten interpreters of the twentieth century. Blech, whose sophisticated mature reading of Schubert’s Symphony in C major, “The Great”, can also be admired on this recording, had been a leading German conductor since 1908 until he was pushed out of his post by the Nazis in 1933, due to his Jewish faith, and was forced to emigrate. Károlyi, a leading pianist of his generation in the 1950s, was later accused of being routine-driven. His masterful Chopin interpretation demonstrates, however, that his ability to combine musicianship and virtuosity is exemplary even today.

The production is part of our series „Legendary Recordings“ and bears the quality feature „1st Master Release“. This term stands for the excellent quality of archival productions at audite. For all historical publications at audite are based, without exception, on the original tapes from broadcasting archives. In general these are the original analogue tapes, which attain an astonishingly high quality, even measured by today‘s standards, with their tape speed of up to 76 cm/sec. The remastering – professionally competent and sensitively applied – also uncovers previously hidden details of the interpretations. Thus, a sound of superior quality results. CD publications based on private recordings from broadcasts or old shellac records cannot be compared with these.

Classical Music

Classical Music

For this sixth volume in Quartetto di Cremona’s exploration of the complete Beethoven String Quartets, the ensemble tackles the String Quartet in A major, Op. 18, No. 5, and the String Quartet in B-flat major, Op. 130, pairing an early piece and a late piece to give some insight into the composer’s development. In both of these compositions, Beethoven’s incorporation of folk music can be seen. In other aspects, these two works are vastly different, the earlier showing his enthusiastic and uplifting style, and the later showing his passionate and sometimes brooding methods. Quartetto di Cremona has been internationally lauded for their “extremely mature and lyrical sound.” (Strad) The group formed at the Stauffer Academy in Cremona in 2000, and since then has acquired an extensive repertoire.

This album presents secular Christmas carols from Europe and South America. These traditional songs have been newly arranged by Manfred Frankel for voice, accordion, violin and percussion instruments. The carols are intended to sound as natural as possible and yet offer something unusual. Older and more recent songbooks from a wide variety of countries served as the basis for the adaptions - in some cases the original languages were retained, and in others the texts have been translated into German. The result is an impressive kaleidoscope of folkloristic, international Christmas carols. The different musical orientations from which Ursula Fielder and Manfred Frankel originally come - she from a "classical music", he from "folk music" - made them curious about each other. At first, they developed a Breton-Celtic programme: the success of this encouraged them to produce this somewhat different Christmas album with newly found, rather unconventional repertoire.

TCHAIKOVSKY Violin Concerto 1. BARTÓK Violin Concerto No. 2 2 • Isaac Stern (vn); 1 Lorin Maazel, cond; 2 Ernest Ansermet, cond; Swiss Festival O • AUDITE 95624 (69:37) Live: Lucerne 1 8/23/1958; 2 8/18/1956


This release is of particular interest to me, for as one who was born, raised, and lived most of my life in San Francisco, I probably saw and heard Isaac Stern perform live in concert and recital more times than any other single artist. That, of course, was because of Stern’s close ties to the city in which he grew up and studied violin under Louis Persinger, one-time teacher of Menuhin, and with Naoum Blinder, the San Francisco Symphony’s then concertmaster. In 1936, Stern made his debut with the orchestra under the baton of Pierre Monteux, and though he would soon leave San Francisco to pursue a career as one of the world’s most recognized and sought-after violin virtuosos, he returned often to the city that had nurtured him to appear with the orchestra and in recital with his long-time accompanist, Alexander Zakin.


In 1945, Stern signed a recording contract with Columbia, an association that lasted uninterrupted for 40 years, one of the longest such artist/record company alliances in history. And during those years, Stern joined forces with famous conductors, orchestras, and chamber musicians to record the entire mainstream violin concerto and chamber music repertoire, and beyond, often more than once. If you grew up in the 1950s and began collecting records in junior high and high school, as I did, the chances are you grew up with Isaac Stern spinning on your turntables. He was Columbia’s intended rival to RCA’s Heifetz, and I readily admit that I learned much of the violin literature from Stern’s recordings before I discovered those by other celebrated artists.


These versions of the Tchaikovsky and Bartók concertos—let it be stipulated that we are dealing with Bartók’s Violin Concerto No. 2, the more famous one, so it needn’t be repeated on each subsequent reference—are not only previously unreleased, they’re claimed to be quite rare, as Stern was seldom recorded live. A 1959 Brahms Concerto with Monteux and the Boston Symphony at Tanglewood was captured live and released by West Hill Radio Archives, which, I presume is still available since it was reviewed by Richard Kaplan as recently as 35:3. But that was the Brahms, not the Tchaikovsky or the Bartók; and while Stern revisited the Tchaikovsky on a number of occasions with different conductors and orchestras, his track record with the Bartók, as far as I know, is limited to his one and only other version, a commercial studio recording he made two years after this one, in 1958, with Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic. That, of course, makes this Audite release all the more valuable.


Of the Tchaikovsky—not counting this live performance—there are four others I’m aware of: (1) a 1949 recording with Alexander Hilsberg and the Philadelphia Orchestra; (2) a 1958 recording with the same orchestra under Eugene Ormandy, released in both mono (ML 5379) and stereo (MS 6062) and originally coupled with the Mendelssohn Concerto, but reissued a number of times in various sets and singles, including one coupled with the Sibelius Concerto; (3) a 1973 recording with Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic; and (4) the violinist’s last, a 1978 recording with Rostropovich and the National Symphony Orchestra.


Let me deal with the Bartók first, since there’s only one other Stern version to compare it to, the aforementioned studio recording with Bernstein. Before proceeding, however, I need to voice a disclaimer. I’ve had Stern’s Bartók with Bernstein on LP for longer than I can remember, but I haven’t dusted it off and listened to it in ages because, frankly, I never liked it. The reason goes back to my opening paragraph, where I reminisce about seeing and hearing Stern live on numerous occasions in San Francisco, though never in the Bartók.


It was around that same time, however, that another San Francisco-bred violinist, who also returned regularly to the city to play with the orchestra, appeared in 1957 to perform the Bartók. I’m referring, of course, to Yehudi Menuhin, and that was my very first time hearing the Bartók. It made a deep and lasting impression on me.


In that same year, Menuhin made his classic recording of the piece with Antal Doráti and the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, which was released on a Mercury Living Presence LP, and which I promptly acquired and haven’t parted with since. Menuhin had a special affinity for the piece—he’d recorded it four years earlier for EMI with Furtwängler and the Philharmonia Orchestra—and I found his reading of it not only more idiomatic than Stern’s but more rapturous. Nothing in Stern’s performance transported me the way those magical moments did towards the end of the second movement in Menuhin’s recording with Doráti.


Stern, of course, didn’t suffer the deterioration in bowing that was already quite evident in Menuhin’s playing by 1957, but it may have been because of that, rather than in spite of it, that Menuhin’s performances took on a sense of vulnerability which made them all the more moving. Stern’s live Bartók under Ansermet in 1956 on the present CD is markedly different than his studio Bartók under Bernstein in 1958, and in some ways I like it better. At first glance, as you can see from the timings below, there’s an overall difference of only 16 seconds between Stern/Ansermet and Stern/Bernstein, which would suggest that despite different conductors, Stern’s view of the work hasn’t changed.

Stern/Ansermet (1956)	Menuhin/Doráti (1957)	Stern/Bernstein (1958)
15:39	15:30	16:22
9:47	9:08	10:01
11:33	11:08	10:52
36:59	35:46	37:15

But a closer look at the timings of the individual movements tells a different story. Under Bernstein, the first movement is almost a minute slower, which is just enough to make it sound a bit slack and lacking in thrust. Compare Stern/Ansermet to Menuhin/Doráti; they’re much closer, with Menuhin being only nine seconds faster. But tempo aside, in both cases, they project the music with a greater febrile intensity. Similarly, in the second movement, though Stern/Bernstein isn’t much slower than Stern/Ansermet, it loses even more of a sense of momentum under Bernstein, and considerably so compared to Menuhin/Doráti.


I think it’s in the last movement, though, that there’s a more serious interpretive misconstruing of the score under Bernstein. Bartók, as is well known, was intrigued by formal symmetry and proportional balance; many of his works exhibit both micro and macro mirroring structures, such as arch forms. The Violin Concerto is no different. The second movement is a set of variations, while the third movement is a variation on the material presented in the first movement. Therefore, it’s important for a performance to present the Finale in a way that reflects the tempos and thematic connections to the first movement. Stern/Ansermet and Menuhin/Doráti manage that better, in my opinion, than does Stern/Bernstein.


It wasn’t until receiving Stern’s previously unreleased Bartók that I was able to make this three-way comparison, and it reinforced for me my general lack of appreciation for the Stern/Bernstein version. Of course, one could make many other comparisons as well, for Bartók’s Concerto has been quite lucky on record. There are superb performances by Henryk Szeryng with Bernard Haitink and the Concertgebouw (another favorite of mine, next to Menuhin), Gil Shaham with Boulez and the Chicago Symphony, and for something more recent, a recording by James Ehnes with Gianandrea Noseda and the BBC Philharmonic on Chandos.


I’ve limited my comparisons to the above three because of their proximal dates, because of the San Francisco connection (both Stern and Menuhin coming of age there, and my hearing the Concerto for the first time performed there by Menuhin), and because Menuhin had a special association with the piece, though he was not the first violinist to play it. Zoltán Székely gave the premiere with Mengelberg and the Concertgebouw in 1939, while Tossy Spivakovsky gave the American premiere in 1943 with Artur Rodzi?ski and the Cleveland Orchestra.


Stern’s Bartók with Ansermet is a fine one, and preferable, I think, to his effort with Bernstein. When it comes to the Tchaikovsky Concerto on this disc, there isn’t much to say. Something that can be said of Stern is that he was a remarkably reliable, even-tempered player. He wasn’t an artist prone to either spontaneous white-hot inspiration or to having off days. When you bought a ticket to a Stern concert or a new Stern recording, you knew in advance what you were going to get, and what you got was never less than good, solid, professional musicianship of a very high caliber.


Frankly, I hear little difference between this 1958 Tchaikovsky with Maazel and the violinist’s studio recording with Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra that same year. If there are any differences worth noting, they relate to the orchestral playing. The Swiss Festival Orchestra is an ad hoc assembly of musicians who come together annually for the Lucerne Festival. The players are all professionals, but they’re drawn from various ensembles around Switzerland and from various European orchestras. Well-rehearsed as they are, it would be disingenuous of me to say that they’re a match for the Philadelphia Orchestra in its prime under Ormandy. So, if you have the Stern/Ormandy Tchaikovsky in one or another of its various incarnations, I don’t think this one adds anything of any special merit to Stern’s recorded legacy. The Bartók, however, I believe does, so recommended to all audiences for the Bartók and to Stern fans in particular for a heretofore unpublished live performance recording of the Tchaikovsky. FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

V 5: EDITION FISCHER-DIESKAU

Dora Pejacevic regarded her Symphony as her most important work. Yet at it's premiere, one crucial detail was missing: her full name. In the programmes for the first performances in Vienna and Dresden, only "D. Pejacsevich" was listed. Why did the composer refrain from including her first name? And would the audience have reacted differently if they had known that the Symphony was written by a woman?

With "Beethoven for Flute and Piano - Part II", audite continues it's CD series exploring the composer's contributions to this instrumentation. While the first release, "But in my style!", focused on the late works, this new double album turns to the composer's early Viennese period. Here, the flute does not appear merely as an ad libitum instrument, but takes centre stage as the tonal focus of both original compositions and arrangements. The spectrum ranges from a version revised and authorised by Beethoven himself to adaptations by Friedrich Hermann. In this way, the selection also offers a glimpse into the historical reception of his music. Together with the first volume, it presents a richly varied panorama of Beethoven's oeuvre for flute and piano.

In the second instalment of Alfredo Perl's complete recording of Beethoven's piano works, the sonatas, variations, bagatelles and individual pieces composed during the so-called "classical" period (1801-1814) take centre stage. Their expressive power and innovative virtuosity constitute a landmark in the history of piano music.

V 3: STRING QUARTETS

BAROQUE-BOLERO: BAROQUE MUSIC

INTERMEZZO