VIVALDI Concertos for Various Instruments: RV 86 1 , 163, 271 2 , 312 3 , 445 4 , 482 5 , 500 6 , 526 7 , 530 8 ) • Adrian Chandler, dir 2,7,8 (vn); Pamela Thorby 1,3,4 (rcr); 1,5,6 Peter Whelan (bn); 7,8 Sara Deborah Struntz (vn); La Serenissima (period instruments) • AVIE AV 2201 (72:01)


One of the underlying motifs of this program seems to be Bohemia, which Vivaldi visited in 1730 and where he probably acquired the paper on which some of these concertos are written. This mixed program opens with what must be one of his briefest concertos, RV 163, in B?. Though under four minutes, and with no special solo instrument, it encompasses many of Vivaldi’s salient characteristics: a strong opening theme, a fine melody, and rhythmic surprise. This brief piece is called “Conca,” for reasons Adrian Chandler connects with a Bohemian use of the conch shell to ward off impending storm. The only storm in front of us here, however, is the pleasurable swirl of Vivaldi’s invention.


In 1727–28, Vivaldi wrote two sets of string concertos, both, in the end, called La Cetra (the lyre). One set was published in Amsterdam in 1727 as op. 9 and may have originally been intended for the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles VI, to whom, on a visit to Trieste in 1728, however, he personally gave a manuscript of a set of new concertos. Vivaldi may have been looking for a job, and the emperor was certainly interested, but nothing happened because the emperor died and Vivaldi, having moved to Vienna without a patron, died in poor straits. The ensemble plays one concerto from the published set (RV 530) and two from the manuscript (RV 526 and 271, of which the former had to be reconstructed by Chandler).


The remaining four concertos on this disc use bassoon and recorder for the concerted part. Two of these, however, are single-movement fragments (RV 482 and 312, the latter reconstructed by Chandler). There is also a “sonata” for recorder and bassoon (RV 86).


Numbering 19, La Serenissima is a fairly large band, as early instrumental ensembles go. This gives a pleasant and most-welcome heft to its sound. The soloists are all good and it would be invidious to single out one of them. This is Vivaldi at his most vivacious, but don’t overlook the rightly named “amorous” concerto (RV 271) from the 1728 manuscript with which the program ends. Anyone looking for an introduction to Vivaldi’s instrumental pieces other than The Four Seasons would do well to start here.


FANFARE: Alan Swanson

Simon Trpceski and Vasily Petrenko bring a certain lightness and refinement to Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No. 2, while at the same revealing the work's deep emotions and inherent melancholy. Trpceski's playing effuses romantic bravura in the rapid finger passages of the outer movements, while cultivating a classical elegance in the hauntingly beautiful slow movement, here sounding so similar in mood and style to Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 21 that I wonder if Rachmaninov wasn't inspired by it.

Listening to Petrenko's conducting in Concerto No. 3, I was reminded of how Rachmaninov was greatly impressed at Gustav Mahler's meticulous preparation of this concerto's orchestral accompaniment for the New York premiere. Petrenko plays up the music's emotional grandeur and symphonic utterance (a few passages bring to mind the composer's Symphony No. 2), producing a real Rachmaninov sound with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic, which plays wonderfully. My only complaint comes in the finale, where the trumpet's important statement of the main theme is barely audible.

For his part Trpceski thankfully resists the temptation to treat the formidable solo part as mere "piano competition" music (as so many others have done). His playing has that rare combination of power, passion, and precision (his first-movement cadenza--the long original one--is magnificent) which, combined with his rich tone and singing line, make this one of the most moving and musical Rachmaninov Third's on disc. The recording gives the usual prominence to the piano so that we hear every note, but the orchestra has a sufficient presence as well (it doesn't exactly sound "realistic"--then again, few concerto recordings do). An excellent disc, one that will likely spend much time in your CD player.

--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

In 1440 King Henry VI of England founded simultaneously two educational establishments to show his devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary. These were ‘the College Roialle of our Ladie at Eton beside Windsor and….the College Roialle of our Ladie and St. Nicholas of Cambridge.’ Thus were established what became two of the most venerable seats of learning – and of liturgical music – in England: Eton College and King’s College, Cambridge.

At Eton, where the college actually opened its doors in 1443, evening devotion to the Virgin was prescribed in the statutes from the start, with the singers required to sing in the chapel an antiphon in her honour every evening – in Lent it was always to be the ‘Salve Regina’. Over the years a corpus of music was assembled at Eton and by the early sixteenth century a significant amount of it had been copied into that remarkable treasury of music, which survives to this day, the Eton Choirbook.

The Choirbook contains a substantial amount of music. Some composers are represented by just one piece, whereas John Browne has no less than fifteen of his pieces preserved in it. From this vast collection Stephen Darlington has chosen five pieces, all of them quite substantial and all of considerable interest. Music from the Choirbook has been recorded by many ensembles, not least by The Sixteen, but here Darlington offers us the authentic experience of hearing it sung by an all-male church choir which is just a little larger than the Eton establishment of the time: the Eton choir consisted of sixteen choristers and ten lay clerks while for this recording Christ Church’s choir comprised eighteen trebles, four altos and five each of tenors and basses.

Just before discussing the performances, it’s appropriate to note the reason for the well-chosen title of the CD. Stephen Darlington tells us in the booklet that in 1515 an Italian visitor to Eton described the singing he heard there as ‘more divine than human’.

I’m unsure if the music is presented in chronological order in the programme. Indeed, little is known about many of the composers whose music is included in the Choirbook, still less is it possible to date with precision the date of composition of individual pieces. However, to judge from the dates of birth and death of the featured composers, it seems plausible to suppose a rough chronology. Furthermore, the pieces do seem to grow in complexity and intricacy as the disc progresses. So listening to the contents of the disc in the order in which they’re presented makes a lot of sense, I think. It was interesting to come to this disc hot on the heels of reviewing a disc by the choir of Edinburgh Cathedral devoted to the music of John Taverner. Taverner’s music was probably written a little later than anything on this present disc and his output represented the high water mark of the English florid style. There’s nothing in this programme to match the sheer exuberance of Taverner’s music though one can sense that trait developing as the pieces succeed one another. Interestingly, Darlington’s choir are not as unbuttoned and open-throated as their Edinburgh peers – that’s not an implied criticism – and their smoother, more mellifluous style is appropriate, I think, to the slightly more sober, though no less interesting music that they have recorded here.

John Fawkyner’s name was completely new to me and, it seems, nothing is known of his life. Gaude rosa sine spina is one of two pieces by him in the Choirbook. It’s not a particularly elaborate piece. I think I’d describe it as patient music, since it makes its effect cumulatively. Stephen Darlington’s fine choir sing it with suitable patience too and build it up well so that the final, affirmative stanza makes the proper effect.

There were two composers named William Cornysh, the second (younger?) of whom died in 1523. It is thought that this setting of ‘Salve Regina’ is by the earlier Cornysh, who can claim a footnote in musical history as the very first informator choristorum at Westminster Abbey. His five-part ‘Salve Regina’ shows an advance on Fawkyner’s piece in that the music is richer in texture and harmony and the polyphony is more intricate. It’s also a very beautiful composition. The present performance is a splendid one. Not only is the music very skilfully sung but a fine sense of atmosphere is generated. Listening to it, I found it quite easy to conjure up a mental picture of a candlelit evening rendition in the Eton chapel.

Walter Lambe’s ‘Magnificat’ is an alternatim setting This is a fine piece in which the polyphony frequently sounds celebratory. Stephen Darlington leads a strong performance.

Equally successful is the account of Richard Davy’s In honore summe matris. This is a luxuriantly expansive piece. The technical aspects of the music are very clever for we read in Timothy Symons’ good notes that the piece contains passages for no less than nine different combinations of two-part writing. These are all well done and the sections for full choir are no less impressive. Towards the end, leading up to and during the closing ‘Amen’, Davy employs triplets in some of the parts. In my experience this rhythmic device is not that common in music of this period and it makes an exciting effect.

Finally we hear Browne’s ‘Stabat Mater’, one of the jewels in the Choirbook. As befits the text, the tone of the music is quite sombre at the start but the music opens up as it unfolds and much of the full choir writing is texturally rich. It’s an imposing piece, which becomes ever more impressive as it progresses, and the concluding ‘Amen’ is quite magnificent. The choir perform it splendidly, sustaining the long lines, which are musically and mentally taxing, expertly.

There’s some marvellous music here. Throughout this fine disc the singing of the Christ Church is cultured and very impressive. They display excellent control and the tone is full and consistently pleasing to hear. There’s always good clarity in the delivery of the part writing, no matter whether a small group or the full choir is singing. It’s obvious that they’ve been expertly trained by Stephen Darlington. The recorded sound is atmospheric and reports the choir with clarity and presence.

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

It is interesting to see what uses musical amateurs of Handel’s day made of his scores, and the singing by Nicki Kennedy is excellent.

HANDEL Cantatas: So Pleasing the Pain Is. 1,2 With Roving and with Ranging. 1,2 To Lonely Shades 1,2 & • Nicki Kennedy (sop); 1 Sally Bruce-Payne (alt); 2 The Brook Street Band (period instruments) • AVIE 2153 (2 CDs: 118:57 Text and Translation)

& HANDEL Songs: 1 An answer to Collin’s complaint. Dear Adonis, beauty’s treasure. The forsaken nymph. I like the am’rous youth. Love’s but the frailty of the mind. ’Twas when the seas were roaring. Transporting joy

This recording is titled “Handel’s English Cantatas.” The three works consist of 13 arias and three duets from three Handel operas, Giulio Cesare, Ottone , and Flavio , with new English texts and arranged for two violins and basso continuo . The arrangements have been attributed to Handel, but this claim is very doubtful. The form of each work, a series of arias ending with a duet, without linking recitative, is otherwise unknown in Handel, and there is no evidence that Handel had any part in putting these works together. The notes to this recording make as good a case as can be made for Handel’s involvement, but I remain unconvinced. The works themselves make enjoyable listening, since the music is taken from three of Handel’s best operas, and it is interesting to see what uses musical amateurs of Handel’s day made of his scores.

The performances are generally enjoyable. Nicki Kennedy is the more pleasing of the two soloists. Sally Bruce-Payne has a large voice that does not sound like it is always completely under her control, and she has an annoying habit of giving a very strong accent to some words; for example, in So Pleasing the Pain Is her overstress produces too strong an emphasis on some syllables. Fortunately, she manages to control this tendency most of the time. The Brook Street Band, consisting of two violins, cello, and harpsichord, plays expertly, and one hardly misses the full orchestra for which these works were originally written.

According to the catalog of Handel’s works in the New Grove , these three cantatas were arranged for different voices than those assigned to them here: So Pleasing the Pain Is for tenor and baritone, With Roving and with Ranging for soprano and baritone, and To Lonely Shades for soprano and tenor. The notes are silent on the arrangements made for this recording.

There are two English cantatas that are accepted as legitimate. Look Down, Harmonious Saint , a single recitative and aria, is not included here but can be found as a supplement to Robert King’s recording of Acis and Galatea . The second, Venus and Adonis , survives in fragmentary form as two arias with harpsichord accompaniment. Those two arias, Dear Adonis, beauty’s treasure and Transporting joy , are included here in a group of seven songs. Many songs have been attributed to Handel. A few years ago, Somm released a recording of all of the songs of unquestioned attribution. Four of them are included here, though one ( An answer to Collin’s complaint ) is performed in a harpsichord arrangement. The forsaken nymph and the two arias from Venus and Adonis are recording premieres. All are excellently sung by Nicki Kennedy.

The three newly recorded items make this recording a must for dedicated Handelians, and the three English cantatas make interesting listening.

FANFARE: Ron Salemi

"When the Wigmore Hall Live label released an archival recording of a 1998 recital by the great mezzo-soprano Lorraine Hunt Lieberson last year, it raised the hope of more such posthumous finds. And just as that hope had begun to fade, here comes another treasure, this one unearthed from the archives of Emmanuel Music in Boston.

As it happens, this release serves as tribute not only to Hunt Lieberson, who died in 2006, but also to her frequent close collaborator Craig Smith, the founder of Emmanuel Music, who died in November. And the material is choice: spacious arias from two Bach cantatas and extended excerpts from Handel’s oratorio “Hercules.”

The disc begins with a 1992 recording of the aria “Kommt ihr angefochtnen Sünder” from Bach’s Cantata No. 30: Something of a tease as the opening instrumental passage heightens the anticipation of Hunt Lieberson’s entrance, more than two minutes into the disc. But that glorious Voice, when it appears, meets every expectation.

The “Hercules” excerpts, from 1999, trace the travails of the hero’s wife, Dejanira, culminating in a harrowing mad scene.... Although Hunt Lieberson’s compelling stage presence added mightily to any performance, the voice alone amply conveys her characteristic intensity here....

Dare we hope for more?"

– James R. Oestreich, New York Times [8/10/2008]

The early death of Lorraine Hunt Lieberson deprived the world of an exceptional artist and one, moreover, who left all too few commercial recordings. However, some archive recordings are now beginning to emerge and this new release, featuring previously unissued live recordings is one such. The CD also forms a tribute to one of her mentors, Craig Smith, Music Director at Emmanuel Church, Boston from 1970 until his death in November 2007 at the age of sixty.

Smith founded Emmanuel Music, which, besides fulfilling a liturgical function at the church, evolved also into a concert ensemble of no little distinction. Perhaps Smith’s greatest achievement was to inaugurate the practice whereby each Sunday between October and April, the main Sunday morning church service includes a cantata by Bach appropriate to the day. That tradition continues to this day and later this year the thirty-ninth consecutive season of liturgical cantatas will commence.

It was through Emmanuel Music that the then Lorraine Hunt took some of the first steps on her solo singing career and she maintained the connection, I believe, for the rest of her life, including appearances in the Sunday cantata series. This disc, therefore, takes us back to her singing roots.

The disc begins and ends with arias taken, I presume, from complete Sunday service performances of Bach cantatas. The aria "Kommt ihr angefochtnen Sünder" comes from the cantata Freue dich, erlöste schar, written for the feast of St. John the Baptist. Alfred Dürr writes thus of the cantata: "The underlying mood is joyful, relaxed and unproblematical, not only in the opening chorus but in the four arias, where a dance-like style is often clearly evident." Unfortunately, to judge by this aria at least, Craig Smith seems to have a different conception. Presumably with the agreement of his soloist, he sets and extremely slow tempo and the aria lasts 8:46.

This sent me scurrying to my shelves for comparisons. John Eliot Gardiner, in his Bach Cantata Pilgrimage performance takes a mere 5:27 but he is surely too fleet – at his pace the aria sounds like a gambol through the Elysian meadows. So that might seem to suggest that Smith is "simply" old fashioned in his conception. But turn to Fritz Werner’s 1971 performance and you find a tempo that seems to me to be just right – he takes 6:03. Beside Werner I’m afraid Smith sounds laboured. What saves the performance is the sheer beauty and inwardness of Lorraine Hunt Lieberson’s singing. On its own terms the performance is quite lovely and no admirer of the singer will be disappointed but I just think the basic conception is wrong.

Things are much more satisfactory in the other Bach aria, which is placed at the opposite end of the programme. This aria is from the cantata Allein zu dir, Herr Jesu Christ, which is for the Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity. Again, Miss Hunt Lieberson’s singing is beautiful and communicative and this time the pace is much more sensible, I think. The conductor here is the composer, John Harbison, who has also had a long association with Emmanuel Music and who, in fact, is currently the Acting Artistic Director. He adopts a slow pace, but this aria can take it. Again comparisons were instructive. Eliot Gardiner’s tempo is almost identical and he takes exactly as long as does Harbison. Werner didn’t record this cantata but another celebrated Bach traditionalist, Karl Richter, did. In his 1976/7 recording he takes 9:34 but his soloist, Julia Hamari, sounds cool besides either of her rivals and she and Richter, whose direction is smooth and relaxed, convey no real sense of trepidation. Nathalie Stutzmann, for Eliot Gardiner, is perhaps a touch more inward than Hunt Lieberson but she’s equally involving and it’s only by the merest whisker that I come down in favour of this present, excellent performance.

The remainder of the disc is devoted to excerpts from Handel’s oratorio, Hercules and these excerpts contain all the music for Dejanira, the wife of the eponymous hero. I presume, though it’s not clear from the documentation, that these extracts are taken from a live account of the complete work.

The role of Dejanira is an exceptionally demanding one, both vocally and emotionally. She is, in Craig Smith’s words, a "monumental character." I can well imagine that Lorraine Hunt Lieberson was a pretty formidable presence in the performance of the oratorio for these extracts show us a vivid character portrayal.

In her first aria, "The world when day’s career is run," she is fully the grief-stricken wife, yet she still retains dignity. Much of Dejanira’s music is in moderate or slow tempo but when swifter music arrives, in "Begone, my fears, fly, hence, away," Miss Hunt Lieberson excels in the passagework.

As her jealousy of the captive princess, Iole, begins to take hold and her certainty that Hercules has been unfaithful increases there’s great sadness in the aria ‘When beauty sorrow’s liv’ry wears’ and that is splendidly conveyed here. Particularly outstanding is the account of "Cease, ruler of the day, to rise," where the singing is particularly expressive. Writing of this disc elsewhere, but of another aria in the programme, the critic Michael Kennedy spoke of Miss Hunt Lieberson’s "power to humanise every note and bring the music to new life." How I agree and I’d say that this comment applies even more strongly to this deep aria.

The final excerpt is the Mad Scene. Here Miss Hunt Lieberson is intensely dramatic without ever going overboard. This is extremely demanding music and she performs it vividly and, once again, when the divisions arise she displays fine vocal agility. Hers is a tremendous performance of this recitative and aria and, unsurprisingly, it sparks an ovation from the audience who, otherwise, are commendably silent throughout.

These extracts contain some superb Handel singing. Frequently I was reminded of Dame Janet Baker’s assumption of Handelian roles and I can pay no higher compliment than that.

Despite my reservation over the one Bach item – a reservation that does not concern the singing per se – this is a superb disc that all admirers of this much-missed singer will want to have. And if you’ve not heard Lorraine Hunt Lieberson before, buy this disc and discover for yourself what all the fuss is about.

– John Quinn, MusicWeb International

MENDELSSOHN Cello Sonatas: in B?, op. 45; in D, op. 58. Variations concertantes, op. 17. Assai tranquillo. Lieder ohne Worte, op.19a/1,3,6 (arr. Piati); op.109 • Antonio Meneses (vc); Gérard Wyss (pn) • AVIE 2140 (72:45)


As Chopin’s works for cello owe their genesis to his association with Franchomme, so Mendelssohn’s pieces were written with specific cellists in mind. The charming and brilliant Variations concertantes (1829) and the First Sonata (1838) were written for the composer’s talented younger brother, Paul. In the interim, Mendelssohn composed the charming albumblatt, known as the Assai tranquillo , as a gift for his Düsseldorf colleague, Julius Rietz. The weightier Second Sonata, from 1843, is dedicated to Count Mateusz Wielhorski, who became a professional cellist on his retirement from the Russian army and eventually an important patron of music in St. Petersburg. Mendelssohn’s last work for cello and piano, the poetic Song without Words , op 109, is dedicated to Lisa Cristiani, one of the few women cellists of the time. Three of the piano solo Songs without Words , transcribed by the cellist Alfredo Piatti, who was much admired by Mendelssohn when they met in London, are interspersed among the original works on this disc.


The distinguished Antonio Meneses—a celebrated soloist and, since 1998, cellist with the Beaux Arts Trio—is a near-ideal interpreter of this important Romantic repertoire. Commanding a rich and varied tonal palette, Meneses approaches Mendelssohn’s essentially lyric expression with poise and equilibrium. This does not mean that passion and drama are given short shrift. In the Scherzo of the D-Major Sonata, the cunning pizzicatos verge on the sinister, only to be dispelled by the flowing cantabile of the trio. During the ensuing Adagio, one of the most beautiful slow movements in Mendelssohn’s chamber music, the cello interrupts the piano’s chorale figure with a series of recitatives. Meneses imbues these passages with a poetic utterance that is disarming in its intensity. His reading of the op. 109 Song without Words is the finest I can remember. Though Gérard Wyss’s piano-playing may lack a certain polish and finesse, his musical instincts are acute, and he remains the sensitive and supportive partner throughout.


Musically speaking, these performances will comfortably take their place alongside other admired readings of the repertoire, including those of Mischa Maisky and Sergio Tiempo (DG 471565) and János Starker and György Sebok (Mercury 434377). The recording, however, made in England in June 2007 at Potton Hall, Suffolk, doesn’t seem to do full justice to Meneses’s wonderful sound. It’s difficult to tell if poor microphone placement or a problematic acoustic space is the culprit, but presence and blend are lackluster. Stephen Pettitt contributed the informative and inviting notes.


FANFARE: Patrick Rucker

There may be a better vocal Christmas disc to come along this season, but it would have to be awfully impressive to best this beautifully sung, imaginatively programmed effort from the male-quartet New York Polyphony. As the liner notes point out, Christmas uniquely brings together a hugely diverse range of musical styles and traditions, and this program reflects that diversity while maintaining the integrity of a unified program, in both atmosphere (amazingly, recorded in a church in the middle of New York!) and in the prevailing medieval/Renaissance sensibility of even the modern pieces. Of course the four singers have much to do with creating and sustaining the mood and imbuing the works with particular interpretive flavor--these are ideally matched, sensitively balanced voices, warm yet vibrant in the tradition of groups such as the Hilliard Ensemble. And the singing is impeccable--the breathing, the phrasing, all of the ensemble work shows musicians at one with each other and with the music at hand.

The repertoire is unusual, but not just for the sake of offering something "different"; there is purpose here in revealing the threads of early chant, medieval harmony, and Renaissance polyphony strung through to the most recent works, including one commissioned for this recording. Even ancient texts appear in the more modern pieces, including Kenneth Leighton's Lully, lulla, thou little tiny child, the only selection on the program (other than the "Coventry Carol") that enjoys a relatively frequent presence on today's Christmas choral concerts and recordings. Here (and on a few other pieces) the men are joined by three women, one of whom is original Anonymous 4 member Ruth Cunningham, and unlike most other renditions, this one seems inspired a bit more by the work's jazz-like elements. As for the Coventry Carol, the four men somehow manage to juice the famous points of dissonance with even more delicious bite than usual.

Other highlights include the opening number, Andrew Smith's ravishing recent setting of Veni Redemptor gentium, which begins with the chant but, almost before you realize what's happening, transforms to a marvelous harmonic texture that ingeniously mixes ancient and new. Palestrina's Hodie Christus natus est, Byrd's O magnum mysterium, and Cornysh's starkly-harmonious, lively-rhythmic Ave Maria Mater Dei are all sung with utmost sensitivity, clarity, and virtuosity. Parsons' Ave Maria is a masterpiece and in its simple way, so is New York Polyphony's very lovely setting of Away in a manger--a performance you'll want to repeat many times. In fact, that applies to this entire expertly recorded disc, which offers many more pleasures too numerous to mention here, but that hopefully you'll soon discover for yourself.

--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

MOZART Piano Sonatas: in c, K 457; in C, K 545; in B?, K 333. Rondos: in F, K 494; in D, K 485; in a, K 511 • Marcia Hadjimarkos (fp) • AVIE 2138 (76:29)


The best compass, it seems to me, for successful traversal of Mozart’s piano music is constant reference to and evocation of his operatic style. If some gesture cannot conceivably be accomplished by the voice, accompanied by a late 18th-century pit orchestra, chances are it is an anachronism and has no place within Mozart’s keyboard textures. Listening to Avie’s remarkable new release of three sonatas and three rondos by Mozart, played superbly by Marcia Hadjimarkos, the imagination repeatedly roams to the operatic stage where, of the generations after Monteverdi and prior to Verdi and Wagner, the Austrian master reigns supreme.


A native of Oregon, Hadjimarkos earned degrees at the University of Iowa before pursuing her studies at the Paris Conservatoire with Jos van Immerseel; she has specialized in performing on the fortepiano and clavichord since the 1980s. One of the more appealing aspects of Hadjimarkos’s interpretations is her exploitation of the richly varied registers of her instrument (in this case a replica of a 1793 Sebastian Lengerer fortepiano by Christopher Clarke). Mozart himself was keen to mine this expressive potential on the pianos of his day; this tendency constitutes a veritable hallmark of his style that unfortunately is all but lost on modern pianos. Hadjimarkos never neglects expressive nuance in melodic inflections and her varied strategies of attack and release result in a realm of beautifully realized legato and detached effects. The lavishly applied variants—to the repeat of the exposition of the C-Major Sonata and indeed to each thematic repetition in the D-Major Rondo, to cite but two examples—seem both appropriate and inevitable. Nor does Hadjimarkos shy from engaging the una corda mechanism of her fortepiano: witness its highly effective use for long stretches in the F-Major Rondo and in the Andante of the C-Major Sonata.


As a player, Hadjimarkos remains rooted “in the moment,” lending her performances a refreshing emotional immediacy. Inevitably, one comes across the curious interpretive choice. At the beginning of the development in the first movement of the C-Minor Sonata, for instance, Hadjimarkos lifts the dampers in the ascending triad, the central thematic material of the entire movement, which she plays (appropriately) secco elsewhere in the exposition and recapitulation.


The recording was made in Chenôves, France, in August 2004. The parish church there has a sweet, flattering acoustic for the Clarke fortepiano. The engineers have done a marvelous job and the sound is dimensional and clear. Brian Robins wrote the engaging booklet notes, to which Christopher Clarke contributed information on his fortepiano.


This is living, breathing Mozart interpretation of a very high order, simultaneously innocent of “received wisdom” or “tradition” (which, as Artur Schnabel was fond of saying, is nothing but a collection of bad habits) and constantly informed by obvious immersion in the music of earlier masters, including C. P. E. Bach and Haydn. Those who still prefer their Mozart on the modern concert grand will no doubt continue to enjoy the performances of Schnabel (Music & Arts Programs of America 1193) and what perhaps remains the all-around best complete recording of the sonatas, that of Lili Kraus (Sony 88808). But those with an ear for the manifold beauties of the instrument that Mozart knew and loved—the late 18th-century Viennese action piano—are not likely to find more imaginatively realized, full-blooded, or loving readings than these presented by Marcia Hadjimarkos. Very highly recommended.


FANFARE: Patrick Rucker

HANDEL (tr. Gibley) Sonatas: in G, HWV 365; in a, HWV 367a; in C, HWV 369; in d, HWV 362; in F, HWV 377; in d , HWV 360 • The Brook Street Band • AVIE 2118 (55:58)


Handel wrote cello sonatas? Surprisingly, he seems to have written none. Nevertheless, composers and musicians of the Baroque era freely transcribed music as the desire or need arose, and so it is not an outrageous idea to make cello sonatas out of six of Handel’s sonatas for recorder and basso continuo. In the present case, this has been done by harpsichordist Carolyn Gibley, who is half of The Brook Street Band. (The other half is cellist Tatty Theo.) Gibley has transposed the sonatas into keys more suited for the cello. Sensibly, she has chosen to accompany the cello with harpsichord alone (Handel also suggested bass violin), presumably because the cello and the bass violin would make a poor match—and also because there are only two musicians in The Brook Street Band, I imagine!


Although I love the sound of the recorder, I was not displeased to hear these sonatas played on the cello. This is some of Handel’s most intimate and salubrious music, and while there is a good variety of tempos, moods, and textures, the music works consistently to unknot whatever tangles the workday has introduced into the soul. This is true whether it is played on the recorder or on the cello. Obviously the two instruments affect listeners in different and personal ways, but there’s nothing about Gibley’s transcriptions that falsifies Handel’s originals, at least as far as my ears are concerned.


Theo plays a Baroque cello dating from circa 1741 (probably 10–20 years after Handel composed these sonatas), and Gibley plays a 1990 Alan Gotto harpsichord based on an instrument built by Mietke circa 1710. The instruments blend together nicely. Theo’s cello has a lean, attractive sound, with more muscle and sinew than modern instruments. Even when Theo’s playing is at its most energetic, her cello sings. As the sole continuo player, Gibley is very much an equal partner, and she fills out Handel’s harmonies with imagination and period-style grace. Together, Theo and Gibley make a joyous noise, even if the joy is of the more mellow variety.


The engineering is wonderful, and Theo’s booklet note helpfully clarifies some of the confusion related to the provenance of the original sonatas. I can’t imagine anyone disliking this CD, unless they are opposed, in principle, to its underlying concept.


FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

R E V I E W S

No easy listening here. Groh offers a monumental reading of the Sonata hewn from stone, with dark colors, generally measured tempos, and a crushing weight. In his curious program note (it’s framed as a letter to Liszt, but it tells the composer mostly things he already knows), Groh not only points to the Faust legend, but also suggests that the sonata has “parallels with the story of the Creation in the Bible.” His lengthy analysis, though, pretty much drops the analogy once it’s gotten past the opening measures—and rightly so. For the progress of the Liszt Sonata has nothing in common with Genesis; and what little light and Edenic joy the music might contain is blocked out by the almost unrelievedly grim intensity of the interpretation. Not even the fugue (played with exceptional clarity) has much spark or impetuosity.

In the end, then, Groh’s reading brings the music closer in spirit to Byron’s Manfred (with its self-lacerating guilt) than to either Faust or the Bible—but the music certainly supports that interpretation, and Groh the performer (as opposed to Groh the writer) makes a persuasive advocate. The careful shading of the opening measures holds out the promise of a performance of great expressive depth, taking nothing for granted—a promise that’s fulfilled in the artful shaping of the recitatives, the inevitable growth of the crescendos, the assurance of the phrasing, and the staggering conviction of the climaxes. I’m not quite ready to admit this CD to the inner circle with Argerich, Horowitz (the early recording), Ernst Levy, Hough, Pollini, Richter, and a handful of others; but it’s certainly close, and readers with several recordings on their shelves already should find this a gripping alternative view.

The Fantasy and Fugue responds well to the same epic approach—but I’m marginally less convinced by Totentanz. No complaints about his technique: in that regard, this is as stunning a performance as its companions. But Groh gives us a remarkably unironic reading of a piece that’s fueled by sardonic wit—and for all the detail, for all the striking contrasts, it seems to be a bit too monolithic. Still and all, this is a significant contribution to the Liszt catalog—and I’m eager to hear more from this remarkably talented musician.

FANFARE: Peter J. Rabinowitz

Monica Huggett and her ensemble Sonnerie scored a hit on Avie with their recording of Handel's Trio Sonatas, Op. 2 (AVI33). They continue their traversal of Handel's chamber works with the Organ Concertos, Op. 4, featuring soloist Matthew Halls, a brilliant young soloist who spins out Handel's endlessly tuneful works with an improvisatory flair that the composer - himself a virtuoso organist - would surely have approved of. On this CD, he plays a replica of a Baroque style chamber organ, built by Jaap Fama and Henk Klop, and owned by the Dutch Bach Society.

R E V I E W S:

"Sonnerie elect to open this delectable recording with the bright, extrovert Concerto No 4, which Handel based on music he had rejected from his autograph of Alcina. Matthew Halls begins this with a fabulous flourish on the organ before Sonnerie launch in, setting the pace for this lively and engaging disc. Halls, using a fascinating Dutch chamber organ which is perfect for the intimately balanced ensemble, plays the solos in Concerto No 6 (the 'harp' concerto) with admirable delicacy and affection...Although Halls is sometimes accompanied only by six musicians, the slow movements are surprisingly lush and evocative. Inspiring interpretations that are a joy from beginning to end"
- David Vickers, GRAMOPHONE

R E V I E W S:

"This follow-up to La Serenissima’s anthology ‘Vivaldi in Arcadia’, is particularly interesting for the Concertos RV212 and RV554a, which have been reconstructed by Adrian Chandler. The former is a violin concerto, composed in 1712 for a festival in Padua and played by Vivaldi himself. A set of parts surviving in Dresden was damaged; the booklet note remarks, seemingly without irony, that this was ‘whilst in safe-keeping’ during the Second World War. Chandler has added the harmony here and there, and selected one of the three slow movements and two cadenzas. The result is a delight... In Laudate pueri Dominum, Mhairi Lawson sings with great passion, wonderfully responsive to the meaning of the words. In the surprisingly meditative Gloria, her vibrant soprano and Chandler’s violin sigh like lovers.The Salve regina is just as good...
Chandler’s direction is as gripping as his playing. As ever, one is lost in admiration at the skills of the girls who sang and played at the Ospedale della Pietà, to whom this is a noble tribute."
- Richard Lawrence, GRAMOPHONE

"The mastermind behind this terrific CD, Adrian Chandler, is not only Director of La Serenissima and a violinist of flair and distinction; he is also a meticulous scholar, as his excellent booklet notes reveal. He has clearly engaged in much fruitful research in preparing for this recording, even carrying out imaginative reconstruction where necessary.
The result is a rich musical treat. All of this music was written by the ‘Red Priest’ for use in the Chapel of the Pietá, the Convent School for orphans (or ‘foundlings’) in Venice. The music on the generously filled disc consists of three instrumental concerti and two solo vocal cantatas, Laudate Pueri and Salve Regina. These are sung by the Scottish soprano Mhairi Lawson, who turns in thoroughly delightful performances... This, and all the other instrumental music, is realised superbly by the players of La Serenissima, the enlarged chamber ensemble named after the city of its inspiration; the name being, of course, a poetic soubriquet for Venice itself. The string sound is pure and bold, yet capable of great subtlety when required. They are underpinned by a continuo section of great richness: the harpsichord of Joseph McHardy, the theorbo (bass lute) of Richard Sweeney, and the organ playing of Robert Howarth.
Despite the scholarship, there is nothing ‘academic’ about the performance of this music. Indeed, it is exuberant and often full of élan and humour."
- Gwyn Parry-Jones, MusicWeb International

Cellist Phoebe Carrai performed with period-instrument ensemble Musica Antiqua Köln from 1983 to 1993, arguably the group's eclectic heyday. Carrai's spirit of adventure apparently hasn't waned in the meantime, given her curious and often unique interpretations of these familiar Bach suites. Her rendering of the opening Prelude of the First suite is inordinately broad and spacious, her subtle easing into the first note of each phrase giving the entire movement an inevitable flow and continuity. The fourth-movement Sarabande receives a similar slow, probing treatment akin to that of Jaap ter Linden (Harmonia Mundi). In contrast, Carrai's rendering of the Second suite's Courante is swift and expertly articulated, rivaling the speed and accuracy of Wispelwey (Channel) and Dieltiens (Accent) as well as modern-instrument virtuosos Navarra (Calliope) and Starker (Mercury).


At times Carrai's unconventional stylistic differences have a tendency to border on mannerism. For example, in the final Gigue of the Second suite, where Carrai's weighty, disproportionate emphasis on certain individual lines imbues the movement with an unusual lugubrious elegance, her forebearance also undermines the dance. Further, Carrai's occasional stresses on the introductory notes of the Fourth-suite Prelude simply sound bizarre. Likewise Carrai's uncharacteristically dreamy, evenly tempered renderings of the Sixth suite's two Gavottes (fast duple-meter folk dances) are among the slowest ever. Compared to my period-instrument reference performance by Anner Bylsma (Sony SEON), who sensibly completes this same movement in less than three minutes, Carrai's 4:37 is a bit of a stretch.


Avie's richly resonant sound complements Carrai's full-bodied performances. John Lutterman's informed notes are a joy to read. While not recommendable as a first choice among the many recordings of Bach's Suites, Carrai's highly personal and yes, distinguished performances nonetheless offer a genuine point of view--which is more than can be said for many less imaginative accounts that currently clutter the catalog.
--John Greene, ClassicsToday.com