Cleveland-based baroque orchestra Apollo’s Fire has made an indelible impression since launching on Avie last year, making their Billboard Classical Chart debut in the Top 10. Vivaldi & Friends presents concertos by the Red Priest with a twist: two authentic concertos—one for four violins, the other for two cellos—interspersed with J. S. Bach’s transcription of Vivaldi’s A minor concerto for four harpsichords and Jeannette Sorrell’s own transcription of “Summer” from the ever-popular Four Seasons. In this unique version, she performs the original violin parts on the harpsichord. The album ends with an enigmatic Tango Concerto by contemporary composer René Duchiffre, written in the idiom of Bach and Vivaldi for the unusual combination of two violas da gamba. Vivaldi & Friends is released to coincide with the group’s extensive tour with star countertenor Philippe Jaroussky.

Honored among the 30 "Unmissable Albums of the Past 30 Years" by BBC Music!

The Cleveland-based baroque orchestra Apollo's Fire, together with founder / conductor Jeannette Sorrell, launched on Avie in July 2010 with a double release featuring discs of Mozart and J.S. Bach. They follow with their tribute to the 400th anniversary year of Monteverdi's seminal Vespers of the Blessed Virgin, released in anticipation of the group's first European tour which takes them to Spain and Holland, and culminates with their Wigmore Hall debut on 30 November. Vespers has been a signature piece for Apollo's Fire for over ten years, and it's fitting for Sorrell and her vibrant band to bring this magnificent masterwork to wider audiences through this recording. critical acclaim for Apollo's Fire "Resplendent . . . with vibrant attention to dramatic detail. Unlike many accounts of the "Vespers," Sorrell's interpretation conveyed the intense drama that pervades this many-splendored puzzle. She must be one of the best conductors around in this repertoire. In her hands, the glory of Monteverdi's accomplishment couldn't have been more radiant or moving. An Apollo's Fire triumph . . . a thriller from first note to last." - The Cleveland Plain Dealer "A stunning achievement" - Fanfare "Sorrell and her fine young choir lavish attention on every phrase and inflexion. The exhilaration and sense of discovery is utterly infectious" - International Record Review

REVIEW

This recording is stunningly different from the norm. [Jeannette Sorrell] constructs a simulacrum of [17th-century Italians'] religious fervour in the explosive presentation of Dixit Dominus, and their sincere reverence in Ave Maris Stella. The real understanding of style is everywhere. No cautious "note counting" in the complex Duo Seraphim, instead the fluttering lines become the beating wings of angels, and in the startling echo duet of the Gloria Patri (from the Magnificat) we feel the ricochet from the very stones of Monteverdi's church.

--BBC Music Magazine (Anthony Pryer)

A fascinating version of Mahler’s Tenth. 

There have been two other recordings made of Clinton Carpenter’s completion of Mahler’s 10th (Farberman/Philharmonia Hungarica and Litton/Dallas). Only the Litton is currently listed on ArkivMusic. Furthermore, the Singapore account seems to be the only DVD of  any version of the complete 10th, making it doubly welcome. Following highly successful performances in China in 2009, this live performance was subsequently taped in August in the concert hall of Singapore’s iconic, gleaming, bug-eyed arts complex known as Esplanade, Theatres on the Bay.

Mahlerians have been arguing for decades over the merits and demerits of the various completed versions of the 10th. There are now at least seven of them (counting Cooke twice), all recorded at least once, providing plenty of fodder for Mahlerians (or are we Mahlerites?) to chew over. Lan Shui has thrown in his lot with the Carpenter version, believing it to be “more authentic” than Cooke’s. I will not attempt to take sides on the issue; all have their strong and weak points. Suffice it to say here that, generally speaking, the Carpenter version is more densely scored than the familiar Cooke version(s), incorporates more interpolated contrapuntal lines, and employs far more percussion (the beginning of Scherzo I sounds almost like a timpani concerto). As a result, principal melodic lines sometimes become obscured and the viewer finds the camera zeroing in on an instrument seen but not heard.

Those familiar with Cooke will easily detect numerous differences in the orchestration; again, this is purely a matter of speculation, and each listener must decide for him- or herself as to the judiciousness of each detail. The movement with the greatest departure from Cooke is Scherzo II, where the orchestration sounds downright clumsy at times. But compensating are passages like the transition to the fifth movement, with its dull thuds in the bass drum rather than the brutal whacks Cooke calls for, followed by ghostly muttering and murmuring in the double basses and other low forms of instrumental life. Following all this grisly groveling Cooke assigns the hauntingly beautiful melody to the solo flute, as does Carpenter, but the latter adds an oboe, harp, and horn—a moment of true magic.

Far less contentious is the excellence of the performance at hand. The Singapore Symphony once again shows the world that it deserves to be ranked with the best. Though this is a live performance, there is nary a missed note or imprecise attack to be heard. (Touch-up sessions, I was told, were minimal.) Special commendation goes to the many felicitous touches from principal flutist Jin Ta, principal oboist Rachel Walker, and principal horn Han Chang Chou, though the latter is unfortunately too far from the microphone. In the opening Adagio, conductor Lan Shui emphasizes the music’s inherent lyricism rather than its passionate intensity, drawing forth seamless arcs of sound and tonal beauty from his superb string section. At the other end of the emotional spectrum is the absolutely terrifying scream of anguish near the end of the symphony, with the high trumpets piercing the air like a laser beam. But regardless of whether the passage is a ravishingly beautiful melodic line or a rush of instrumental virtuosity, Lan ensures that it makes musical sense. There is an innate feeling for phrasing and structure to every gesture he makes, and the orchestra responds accordingly. Particularly delicious are the episodes in both scherzo movements, where Lan injects a good dose of old-fashioned Viennese schmaltz, something I’d not heard before in this music.

The visual element has been tastefully considered and imaginatively executed. At the huge explosion of agonizing dissonance near the end of the Adagio, the camera takes us deep into the bell of the tuba, as if peering into the black abyss. During the piercing trumpet screams that immediately follow, the screen slowly goes white as our eyes are led directly into blinding light. There are numerous opportunities to enjoy the sheer visual beauty of the hall, which abounds in gorgeous color and striking textures. There are enough camera angles so that virtually every musician gets quality time in the lens but without the constant, annoying flitting around that mars so many orchestral videos these days.

The worthy filler, Five Elements , is a 12-minute suite of five short pieces by Messiaen’s only pupil, the Chinese-born Chen Qigang, now living in Paris. Dating from 1998, it has become one of Chen’s more frequently played works (in this country I know of performances by orchestras in Milwaukee and Los Angeles), and it has been recorded before, on an all-Chen Virgin Classics CD. Didier Benetti’s performance there is good, but Lan is more imaginative in bringing out the exquisite subtleties and colors in this music of Takemitsu-like delicacy and purity. Each of the “elements” (not physical substances, but rather “cyclic movements which constitute the universe”) is scored for a different combination of instruments and is visually framed in a different color (blue for water, red for fire, etc.) while the camera locates the various sources of sound, often using a split screen and resulting in a kind of advanced guide to the orchestra. Mallet instruments and special effects in the strings (harmonics, tapping, col legno , etc.) play major roles in the highly varied and fascinating sound world of Five Elements.

The disc comes with good booklet notes by Marc Rochester in five languages (English, French, German, Japanese, Chinese), brief interviews with Lan about the music, and a small photo gallery. All in all, this is a product well worth watching as well as hearing, and anyone who loves the Mahler 10th owes it to him- or herself to acquire this release.

FANFARE: Robert Markow

Announced as a commemoration of the 150th anniversary of Mahler’s birth, this recording by the Singapore Symphony Orchestra is also apparently the first video/Blu-ray release of his Symphony No. 10 as completed by Clinton Carpenter. This version is less frequently heard than the ‘performing version’ by Deryck Cooke, but as discussed in Tony Duggan’s excellent comparative review of recordings of Mahler’s Symphony No.10, Carpenter was the first to begin working on this project, commencing as he did in 1946. The first edition was completed in 1966, ten years before Cooke’s was published in 1976. As well as these two, there are also versions by Joe Wheeler, and more recently Remo Mazzetti, Rudolf Barshai (1924-2010), Nicola Samale and Giuseppe Mazzuca.
 
Beginning with the Adagio, the only movement completed by Mahler and which has often appeared as a single movement on Mahler symphonic cycles, we get the measure of the Singapore Symphony Orchestra and Lan Shui’s conducting. Directing without a score, Shui doesn’t linger or cloy with over-sentimental fussiness. This is perhaps not quite the most gripping of Adagio recordings, but it works well enough – clean and efficient, rather than streaked with the blood and sweat of intense and daring risk-taking. The real passionate work comes later on. The recording is detailed and bright, and although the absolute sheen of the strings may not be quite as glossy as Sir Simon Rattle in his later Berlin Philharmonic recording this is clearly a crack band, standing up well to the edge-of-the-seat scrutiny of microphones and assorted cameras. The impact of ‘that chord’ at 19:15 will make you jump out of your seat, cleverly preceded by some disarmingly innocent celestial ceiling-gazing by the video director.
 
Musically things become interesting with the second movement Scherzo. Carpenter clearly had a different idea to Cooke about what Mahler might have done had he lived to revise his scoring, and there are quite a few extra trills, counter-melodies, darting changes of tempo and other twiddly bits added to what was actually quite a substantially notated original. The overall effect is for this reason not hugely different to the Cooke version, and the extras either add character or pickiness, depending on your mood or point of view. Having become so used to the Cooke version it’s hard to know whether the opposite would be the case were the tables turned, but to my ears the music is eccentric enough without too much extra superimposed material. The rather Hollywood tinsel of the final section, marked ‘Pesante’ with Cooke is a case in point. This does stand very well as a performance in its own right however, and with absolute conviction from the performers as good a case as any is made for Carpenter’s version of this movement.
 
There is some structural adjustment going on in the ‘Purgatorio’, unnamed as a movement in this version. However, in essence the extra thematic flights and different approach to texture don’t create as much of a ‘new’ movement when compared to Cooke as you might think. It is with the fourth movement Scherzo that the sense of an alternative vision becomes most immediately apparent. Cooke’s version is rich and effective, but for me always leaves the sense of an unfinished work – the realisation that Mahler would certainly have done more had he lived to create a definitive and complete piece. Carpenter’s working of the material doesn’t sweep away all of the musical idiosyncrasies left by the bare bones of Mahler’s short score, but at least gives a more immediate impression of something established and rooted in its own tradition. There are some magical moments, and the Singapore players if anything warm to their task in this movement even more than in the rest of the piece. There are too many differences between Carpenter and Cooke to mention, and I have to admit to getting lost while trying to follow Carpenter using the Cooke score, but the overall effect is more important than the technical analysis in my view. I found myself sold on this version the more I listened.
 
The fifth movement Finale opens with that now famous damped bass drum, and sounds suitably funereal. Carpenter uses the keener edge of trumpets to top the brass chorale at bar 23, and the flute solo from 30 has a nice harp accompaniment illustrated well in a split view on the video. There is a certain amount of schmaltz in the orchestration which might take a bit of getting used to, but these sorts of things are questions of taste. The orchestral colourings to my ear sometimes have a Tchaikovsky-like flavour: the joviality of the Nutcracker drawn into pits of despond by the mood of the Sixth Symphony amplified by overwrought early 20 ^th century late-romanticism. There is no doubting the effectiveness of Carpenter’s orchestration, but there are moments where Cooke’s closer alliance to what historical Mahler research might consider a more ‘authentic’ realisation allows a clearer window into what Mahler actually left, rather than what someone else feels he might have done. This doesn’t quite tip into over-working of the material, but sails close enough at times. I don’t dislike the result, but am rather glad this plush cast of extras isn’t the only Mahler 10 we have.
 
The programme of this DVD also gives us Wu Xing or ‘The Five Elements’ by Chinese composer Chen Qi-gang. The five short movements each represent a different element: Water, Wood, Fire, Earth and Metal respectively. Clever camerawork helps the ear identify some of the effects which arise, but as with most pieces with such clear themes, the music is not difficult to interpret and follow. There is plenty of interesting percussion with Wood for instance, Britten-like brass chimes and licking flames rising from the double–basses and bass drum in Fire. This is all highly effective stuff, essentially romantic in idiom, but with some gorgeous melting harmonies and sonorities. Bonus features for the DVD include some introductions on both pieces in English from conductor Lan Shui and some photographs including backstage souvenirs, and some of the orchestra’s other concert performances.
 
With good booklet notes by Marc Rochester and clever use of Klimt’s ‘Der Kuss’ to illustrate Mahler’s marital crisis at the time he was working on the symphony, this is a very nicely produced DVD and an excellent recording of Clinton Carpenter’s completion of Mahler’s Symphony No.10. I have to admit to being far more used to hearing the Deryck Cooke version in a variety of recordings, and so accept any comments I may have on the Carpenter version will be compromised by having this as an ingrained reference point. I accept the validity and effectiveness of Carpenter’s version, but ultimately feel closer to Mahler’s intentions in the piece – at the state in which he left it – with Cooke. What this DVD shows is that there is most certainly more than one way to deliver this remarkable piece, and having the choice is most certainly more of an enrichment than a distraction from any one ‘true’ version of the score – something which can never exist in any case.
 
-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International  

Think you know Italian baroque chamber music? Think again. The range, diversity - and even wackiness - is remarkable, as illustrated by Flights of Fantasy, an album of acute inventiveness by Avie stalwart Monica Huggett and the chamber soloists of her Irish Baroque Orchestra. Take Carlo Farina's Capriccio Stravagante, which translates as "outlandish whim", and imitates barking dogs, meowing cats and gunfire. More serious, but no less virtuosic, experimental forms occur in works by Marini, Castello, Legrenzi, and Cavalli - the Venetian best known for his operas - all heard on this album. Created in 1996, the period-instrument Irish Baroque Orchestra occupies a fundamental place in Ireland's musical landscape. Ten years in, the mantle of artistic director was assumed by Monica Huggett, who has created a decades-long career of critically acclaimed and award-winning recordings, including the Billboard chart-topping, Grammy-nominated Bach Orchestral Suites on Avie (AV 2171). critical acclaim for the Irish Baroque Orchestra and Monica Huggett "Nothing lacks from Sonnerie's playing, which is generously, beautifully judged for pace and attractively recorded ... classy" - Gramophone "fresh, lively, and full of spirit" - Classic FM CD of the Week, on Monica Huggett directing Bach Orchestral Suites (AV 2171) Irish Baroque Orchestra: Critics' Choice for the IBO's Masterworks Series, January 2010 - The Irish Times

The exhilaration and sense of discovery is utterly infectious.” — International Record Review

“These are performances of enormous drama, delicacy, and zest played with keen attention to expressive and textural nuances.” — Cleveland Plain Dealer

This all-Mozart recording leads with the composer’s darkest Symphony, No. 40 in G minor. American soprano Amanda Forsythe joins the group in a dramatic recitative and virtuoso aria from Lucio Silla, and the disc includes the Ballet Music from Idomeneo, a festive and rarely-heard suite from the last great work in the opera seria tradition. Rounding out the set are four lively and entertaining Contradances.

The 2-CD Bach set takes the ever-popular Brandenburg Concertos, and uniquely couples them with two Harpsichord Concertos, one of which is also presented in a reconstruction for violin. Taking its name from the classical god of music and the sun, Apollo's Fire is dedicated to the performance of 17th- and 18th-century music on period instruments. Founder and Music Director Jeannette Sorrell and her ensemble of dynamic and creative early-music artists from North America and Europe have been praised internationally for stylistic freshness and buoyancy, animated spontaneity, technical excellence, and creative programming. An award-winning harpsichordist and conductor, Sorrell studied with Gustav Leonhardt in Amsterdam and Leonard Bernstein at Tanglewood. Praised for its "temperament and personality" by The New York Times, the ensemble has toured throughout North America and, in November 2010 embarks on its first tour of Europe. critical acclaim "Led by a brilliant harpsichordist, Jeannette Sorrell, the ensemble exudes stylish energy . . . a blend of scholarship and visceral intensity." - Gramophone "Apollo's Fire has developed into one of America's leading Baroque orchestras, and one capable of competing with some of Europe's much-recorded bands." - The Boston Globe "The exhilaration and sense of discovery is utterly infectious." - International Record Review "These are performances of enormous drama, delicacy and zest played with keen attention to expressive and textural nuances." - The Cleveland Plain Dealer

Classical Music

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

The 200th anniversary of Felix Mendelssohn’s birth in 2009 raised the popularity of his music to new heights. This new recording of his beloved Piano Trios is a rarity, performed on period instruments. The Benvenue Fortepiano Trio is lead by the enterprising violinist Monica Huggett, whose numerous recordings for Avie have consistently resulted in critical acclaim and sales success. Her partners here are two of America’s foremost period instrument practitioners, cellist Tanya Tomkins (making her second appearance on Avie) and Eric Zivian playing on an 1841 Viennese fortepiano.

Classical Music

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

Includes work(s) by François Couperin. Soloists: Markku Luolajan-Mikkola, Mikko Perkola, Aapo Häkkinen.

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

Includes work(s) by various composers.

Classical Music

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

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music