Also available: Schubert Live Vol 2 / Imogen Cooper and Schubert Live Vol 3 / Imogen Cooper



SCHUBERT Piano Sonatas: in a, D 845; 2 in D, D 850; 2 in A, D 959; 1 11 Ecossaises, D 781. 2 3 Klavierstücke, D 946 2 • Imogen Cooper (pn) • AVIE 2156 (2 CDs: 148:21) Live: London 4/15/2008; 1 11/25/2008 2


This first volume of Schubert’s piano music recorded live in the Southbank Centre in London sets a very high benchmark. Imogen Cooper is that rare creature, a pianist who is first and foremost a sensitive musician of uncommon ability—and more than that, an instinctive Schubert-player. Her textual fidelity equals that of the greatest modern Schubert pioneer, Artur Schnabel; and like Schnabel, her feeling for tempos and phrasing illustrates a sensibility to the Schubert idiom that is wonderfully satisfying. Much of this can be attributed to her experience playing Lieder: she regularly partners the great Austrian singer Wolfgang Holzmair, and they have recorded all the Schubert song cycles. In an explanatory note in the booklet, she talks about the “passion” of her early encounters with Schubert, which came about through Lieder, and of her belief that the composer’s love for the voice—“the instrument inside the body”—and for poetry as well, affected all his great music. There is nothing in the booklet notes about further recordings, but the “Volume 1” CD designation indicates that this is just the beginning of a series of Schubert piano recitals at the Southbank Centre that will be recorded live in concert.


This volume comprises music composed in the final stage of Schubert’s period of great flowering, from 1823 until his death in 1828. Each of the three sonatas has extraordinary music in it: the Sonata in A Minor, with its poignant first movement and its whirlwind finale; the D Major, with the martial character of its opening movement, passionate slow movement, Hungarian-influenced Scherzo, and lighthearted, bucolic last movement; and finally, the “great” A Major from the final trilogy of Schubert’s sonata output. For contrast, there are the Ecossaises, short dances in duple meter, each in a different key; they are not linked in any obvious way, but played as a group without pause, they make a persuasive set. There are not a great many recordings of these dances (one by the pianist Michael Endres on the Capriccio label has long been a favorite). His playing is somewhat more flexible rhythmically, more unbuttoned than is Cooper’s.


What is apparent throughout this CD is the nuanced expressiveness in Cooper’s playing—small touches that emphasize Schubert’s piercing harmonic changes, subtle changes in color, and flexible rubato. While not completely note perfect (who cares?), her technical accuracy is highly impressive. Cooper’s refined manner, her genteel approach to the keyboard, is directly at odds with that of her teacher, Alfred Brendel, whom she credits as an important influence in her studies. Fortunately, she did not adopt his way of playing Schubert, with his aggressive and heavy-handed touch and little show of empathy for the composer’s essential lyricism.


Coming on the heels of Diane Walsh’s stunning Schubert sonata disc (reviewed in Fanfare 32:5), and in view of outstanding recent performances on CD by several young artists (e.g., Martin Helmchen, Gottlieb Wallisch, Michael Endres), we have suddenly become rich in stylish Schubert interpreters.


FANFARE: Susan Kagan

Recent reviews An Editor's Choice in the April issue of Gramophone, the magazine cites 'exceptionally compelling performances ... cannot be recommended highly enough.' A review in today's Los Angeles Times asserts 'this CD could be his entree into the big time.' Augustin Hadelich's sensational debut on Avie Records, Flying Solo (AV 2180), helped catapult him from a highly respected and acclaimed position in the classical music world, into an ever-widening and adoring circle of fans who helped drive the album into the Billboard Classical Chart. Alongside major debuts with the likes of the Cleveland Orchestra and the New York Philharmonic, his UK debut at the Sage Gateshead and return performances with the Los Angeles Philharmonic and Indianapolis Symphony, major feature coverage in The New Yorker, The New York Times, The Los Angeles Times and more has propelled Augustin's media profile to an all-time high. Called "luscious" by Ariama.com, Echoes of Paris is Augustin's first chamber recording and casts intriguing connections between Frenchmen Debussy and Poulenc and Russians Prokofiev and Stravinsky, who both flocked to Paris and were heavily influenced by the city's electric atmosphere and cultural scene. Augustin comments, "I have chosen the four works on this album primarily because they fit so well together ... the 'echoes of Paris' that tie them together include puppetry, percussion, marches and jazz references." Above all it is Augustin's riveting performance of these striking 20th century works that will captivate consumers and continue to broaden his outstanding reputation far and wide. critical acclaim for Augustin Hadelich "If a layer of surface noise were added to Augustin Hadelich's recent solo-violin recording on the Avie label, you might think you were hearing a virtuoso out of the Golden Age." - The New Yorker "an exacting focus, an unerring dramatic sense and a rich, beautiful tone ... an easygoing but winning virtuosity" - The New York Times "Outstanding musicianship separates Augustin Hadelich from the pack" - Gramophone "behind Hadelich's talent was a molten intensity, a determination to explore the music's passionate, earthy sides with gritty articulation and tender lyricism." - Cleveland Plain Dealer "impressive -- intonation dead-on, with a luscious tone and an Old World grace that you don't hear very much from young violinists anymore." - Los Angeles Times "he easily confirmed his place on the shortlist of today's top violin virtuosos" - The Denver Post, on Augustin's New York Philharmonic debut at the Bravo! Vail Valley Music Festival

This brand-new recording of Orfeo lacks thrills and grand vocal displays, and the results are beautiful indeed. Purposely eschewing what opera turned into within a half-century of this, the purported first entirely extant opera, Andrew Parrott, with 40 years of experience and scholarship under his belt, has opted to present a “favola in musica” rather than the later notation, a “dramma per musica”. The distinction is one of size, scope, and focus.

The performances that were given of Orfeo at the court of Mantua were neither fully-staged nor opulent; there is mention of a “curtain” but the room itself was salon-sized and the purpose of the event was to appreciate the combination of poetry and music. There were no singing stars; the purpose of the show was not virtuosity. It was an experiment for the heightening of the text by music.

With that in mind, this exquisite, delicate reading is a glorious alternative to, say, the Philip Pickett, René Jacobs, or Nikolaus Harnoncourt performances (let alone the heartbreaking Emmanuel Haim reading on Virgin), which are interested in Orfeo as a piece of theater, designed to “impress” and possibly stun. Parrott’s show places equal emphasis on the music and text—the words are delivered flawlessly, with strength where needed, but utterly devoid of melodrama. The drama is in the sadness of both words and music. It’s almost like Mozart in that respect: his operas rarely need to be “interpreted”; if the singers and players follow the music and text scrupulously, an effect will be made. It may not engender shock and awe, but the tale will be told, without over-emphasizing or exaggeration.

And that is what we get here. The first CD begins with the sound of a few people chattering, and the Gonzaga fanfare is first heard from a distance. Then it comes a bit closer—in a different key (this is not explained), which is a bit jarring but certainly makes us pay attention. The first voice we hear—La Musica—is that of countertenor David Hurley, perhaps the purest male adult voice I’ve ever heard (including Phillip Jaroussky’s). It is light as a feather, and music itself.

Charles Daniels is a wonderful Orfeo—sweet and gentle—and he handles the amazingly difficult “Possente spirto” and “Orfeo son io” in the third act beautifully, with every note clear and focused, but without any grandstanding. His legato (this entire performance is all about the unstoppability of music as exhibited by superb legato playing and singing from everyone) is a thing of wonder. Caronte, in the person of Curtis Streetman, also singing smoothly (and with a sensational trillo on the word “canto”), brings out some forte, impassioned pleading from Daniels’ Orefo—all the more effective since all else has been so understated.

Emily van Evera’s Messaggiera is a problem—her voice is too bright and she is too matter-of-fact for someone delivering such terrible news—but her Prosperina is so lovely that Christopher Purves’ Plutone must give in to her request. Faye Newton’s Eurydice is particularly effective in her final farewell, with its weird-and-weirder chromatic lines. Some might argue that the Infernal Spirits are not menacing enough; I would direct their attention to the accompaniment of the three trombones and two bass trombones, which add enough darkness to hide the sun. The only other concession to this being a staged work is the gradual disappearance of Apollo (finely sung by Guy Melc) and Orfeo near the opera’s close, since there is in fact a stage direction in the score that states that they “ascend”.

There are 29 instrumentalists, 14 of whom are string players; several of the singers play double roles. The harmonies in the choruses are spotless, with the men’s voices impeccably matched; this is some of the smoothest singing I’ve ever heard. Pitch is A=440 (most other recordings use A=465) which adds to the ease of production and mellow, sad telling of this well-known tale. The sound is pristine.

This may not be an only choice for a version of Orfeo; it’s an alternative, possibly thoroughly accurate reading of the favola. But its poetic approach is an ideal companion to the more aggressive, later 17th and early 18th century “operatic” readings mentioned above, with Haim’s probably first.

– Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

George Enescu was a musical genius of Mozartean universality and range, and the only reason his music isn't better known is because it's terribly difficult to play, not just technically but emotionally and stylistically. Despite the neo-classical patterning of such works as the first two suites on offer here, there's really no such thing as a chaste, "classical" approach to these, or any other of his works. Either you're a full-blown Romantic virtuoso in the "golden age" sense of the term, or you'd better not waste your own (or the listener's) time. In particular, Enescu's subtle approach to tempo requires the most sensitive use of rubato and the ability to play whole phrases and paragraphs across the bar lines as if in a single breath. Add to this the composer's exquisite sensitivity to matters of tone color and his sheer love of rich textures--of writing music with "lots of notes" but in which every one of them matters--and the result requires a very special sort of artistry in performance.


On evidence here, Romanian pianist Luiza Borac makes a very worthy exponent of her countryman's music. The First Suite, composed at the ripe old age of 15, is Bach on steroids, and Borac's playing perfectly conveys its gusto and enthusiasm. She projects the second-movement fugue with effortless insouciance and makes a thing of poetry of the Adagio, one of Enescu's first essays in the sort of endlessly flowing river of melody that later became so characteristic of his style. In the final Presto, Borac unleashes a torrent of sound and sustains it from the first bar to the last.


The Second Suite, which dates from 1901/03, begins with a jubilant Toccata, played here with the necessary freedom of tempo and uninhibited sense of abandon. Listen to the way Borac caresses the gorgeous third-movement Pavane, her fingers scarcely seeming to touch the keyboard as she spins out its gentle trills and decorative filigree. Captivating! In the concluding Bourrée Enescu turns to Romanian folk music, and Borac captures both the music's rustic charm as well as its evident desire to break out of the simple rhythm of its initial accompaniment and become something altogether more sophisticated (an apt musical illustration of the composer's personality).


Dating from 1913-16, the Third Suite consists of individual pieces later collected together in a single volume, and so it completely lacks the neo-classical formal outlines of the previous two. It also contains some of Enescu's most remarkable piano music now in his fully mature style. Voix de la steppe perfectly illustrates his "parlando-rubato" melodic style, as does Borac's presentation of it. Burlesque recalls many a similar moment in Bartók, with its nose-thumbing humor and deliberate grotesquerie. The most remarkable movements, though, are the finale pair, a chorale shot through with mysterious modal harmony, and a remarkable Carillon nocturne whose chiming dissonances and evocative use of piano resonance sound like some early work of Messiaen.


It's very instructive to compare Borac's performances of these last two pieces to those of Aurora Ienei (last on Olympia). Borac takes a full three and half minutes longer over both movements but plays with such dynamic sensitivity and breadth of phrasing that Ienei sounds quite prosaic by comparison. Borac also is much better recorded; the silken tones she conjures from the keyboard are very naturally captured in a lively acoustic that coveys optimal warmth and clarity. Even were this not the only show in town in this repertoire, it's obvious that Borac has a special affinity for the composer's elusive idiom, and that makes this disc an outstanding contribution to the still far-too-small Enescu discography.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Simon Trpceski's recording of Rachmaninov's Piano Concertos Nos. 2 and 3 was one of the most acclaimed and best-selling classical releases of 2010. His frequent collaborations with Vasily Petrenko and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra are justly celebrated. Together they complete the not final cover art Rachmaninov canon with this highly-anticipated follow up of Concertos Nos. 1 and 4, and the Paganini Rhapsody. Rachmaninov Concertos 2 and 3 made the Top 10 of Billboard's Classical Chart and won a Diapason d'or de l'année. Trpceski will support the sequel with extensive touring and CD signings at which he regularly attracts hundreds of fans. What the critics are saying: "If you want to fall in love afresh with Rachmaninov's most popular piano concertos, go and get this disc right now" - Classic FM Magazine Editor's Choice "The great thing about these performances ... is not merely that he can deliver these formidable virtuoso showpieces with vigor and technical polish ... It's that he makes you hear beyond the glitter to the dimly flickering musical inspiration beneath ... Trpceski turns these potentially garish creations into something serious and emotionally urgent." - San Francisco Chronicle "an impressive achievement ... committed performances and excellent sound." - BBC Music Magazine "the chemistry between conductor, orchestra and soloist is magical." - Minnesota Public Radio "Avie can certainly congratulate itself on having backed a winner ... Trpceski was born to perform this music, and Petrenko to conduct it." - The Daily Telegraph (UK), Classical CD of the Week Daily Telegraph Classical CD of the Week: 'utterly compelling.' ClassicalSource.com: 'particularly fine ... scintillating ... a notable release' Yorkshire Post: 'dazzingly brilliant ... stunning'

Gramophone Award-winning Adrian Chandler and his period-instrument ensemble La Serenissima present The Italian Job, a feast of instrumental color featuring oboes, bassoons, trumpets, trombone, timpani, strings and continuo, by some of the finest composers of the Italian baroque. The music on this release comes from four cities, each with a rich musical heritage: Venice, Bologna, Padua, and Rome. Adrian Chandler and his ensemble have received critical acclaim for their previous releases: “a Four Seasons for all seasons… To become another Four Seasons recommendation takes something special, and this absolutely is.” (Gramophone on Vivaldi Four Seasons AV 2344) “These are musicians who quite simply love their Vivaldi” (BBC Music Magazine, Recording of the Month, AV 2287)

REVIEW:

The Italian Job' has all of La Serenissima's hallmarks: a fresh, zinging tone alive with vitality and enjoyment, an effortless easy panache from both ensemble and soloists, and the whole underpinned by a scholarly attittude to programming and performance style which is yet worn with a light grace.

– Gramophone

Winter Words is the solo debut release by American tenor Nicholas Phan. The recording was made in the wake of a recital tour in 2010-11 which culminated in his Carnegie debut at Weill Hall. A graduate of the Manhattan School of Music and an alumnus of the Houston Grand Opera studio Nick has performed with the opera companies of Los Angeles and Seattle, symphony orchestras of Atlanta, St. Louis and San Francisco, and the Marlboro, Ravinia and Edinburgh Festivals, among others. He sang in Stravinsky's Pulcinella with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra under Pierre Boulez which was nominated for a Grammy Award. Nick presents a deeply personal perspective of Britten's music, encompassing his own performing experiences to audience reaction. He says: "I've been a fan of Britten since playing his Young Person's Guide to the Orchestra with my youth orchestra in Detroit as a teenage violinist. But my great devotion to his music increased to an obsession when an excellent pianist and good friend asked if I'd perform with her at a small university in Missouri. She suggested Winter Words, saying, "I think these would sound really great in your voice, and I've wanted to play them for ages, so indulge me." I researched and played through Britten's settings of Hardy's poems and before long, I was hooked." Approaching the performance in a small Midwestern town with some trepidation ("how would they react?"), Nick describes the audience's overwhelmingly positive response: "my favourite piece on the program ... the most lasting impression." Such is the enduring quality of Britten's sophisticated yet direct song writing, of which Nick is a leading torch-bearer. critical acclaim for Nicholas Phan "took hold of the music with unerring musicality, precise diction, and conversational command." - The Rest is Noise, Alex Ross "an excellent young singer ... more importantly he penetrates deeply into the inner drama" - Boston Globe "Vocally and dramatically at the level of the finest international artists." - Chicago Sun Times

2 CDs plus 1 DVD

Jeannette Sorrell and Apollo’s Fire celebrate the holiday season with a unique release of Handel’s Messiah: a three-disc set presenting a dramatic approach that explores the work as the theatrical entertainment Handel intended—an oratorio being a dramatic work, and Handel’s bold declaration that Messiah was “A Sacred Oratorio.” The DVD includes footage from rehearsals, concerts, and recording sessions as well as interviews with soloists, principal players, and Sorrell.

“The Messiah we’ve been waiting for.” — Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

“A blend of scholarship and visceral intensity.” — Gramophone

THE RISE OF THE NORTH ITALIAN VIOLIN CONCERTO 1690–1740—VOL. I: THE DAWN OF THE VIRTUOSO • Adrian Chandler (vn), dir; Mhairi Lawson (sop); 1 La Serenissima (period instruments) • AVIE 2106 (77:51 & )


NAVARA Sinfonia/Sonatas: in C; in a. COMPOSER X Laudate pueri Dominum, RV Anh 20. 1 LEGRENZI 3 Balletti e correnti, op. 16. ALBINONI Concerto in G, op. 2/8. VALENTINI Concerto with 4 Violins Obbligato, op. 7/11. VIVALDI Violin Concertos: in G, RV 310; for 4 Violins, RV 580


According to the booklet’s biography, the Arts and Humanities Research Council awarded Adrian Chandler a fellowship at Southampton University to study the development of the violin concerto in northern Italy from 1690 to 1740, a project that apparently resulted in Avie’s recording items from that literature. Although the title of the collection, “The Dawn of the Virtuoso” might suggest some of Vivaldi’s most fanciful flights, the level of technique demanded by the collection’s works remains on a rather low level. Navara’s five-part Sinfonia or Sonata in C Major (as well as the one in A Minor), for example, may feature what the notes describe as “imposing” violin parts, but they can hardly make an electrifying impression on today’s audiences, inured by Ernst and Paganini to relatively subdued technical feats like Navara’s (while curiously, Vivaldi’s violin parts can still make a listener’s heart pound).


The Laudate pueri Dominum by “Composer X” apparently belonged to a group of pieces that Vivaldi himself had studied. Mhairi Lawson’s rich lower register lends a somber quality to the work, although she brings startlingly dramatic excitement to the “Suscitans” section. Legrenzi’s Balletti e corrente (a selection of six very brief pieces scored for what the Adrian Chandler’s notes describe as the “typical” north Italian ensemble of two violins, alto viola, tenor viola, and cello: Balletto II in G Minor, Corrente II in G Minor, Balletto IV in E Minor, Corrente IV in E Minor, Balletto VI in F Major, and Corrente VI in F) sound bracingly crisp and energetic, bubbling with virtuosic energy if not energetic virtuosity.


Chandler identifies Albinoni’s op. 2 as the first work regularly to include solo passages. But although Albinoni supposedly distributed the “lion’s share” of these in the Eighth Concerto, written for four solo violins with strings, striking solos in the manner of Vivaldi’s Concertos, op. 3 (the tenth of which La Serenissima includes in the collection) just don’t make an appearance. Valentini’s Eleventh Concerto, in six movements (one of them multisectional), sounds far more progressive in the quicksilver writing for the solo instruments in the second movement and especially in the brilliant fourth-movement Presto—as well as in the bold but skillfully laid-out chromatic passages of the opening one. At more than 17 minutes’ duration, the piece dwarfs all the other purely instrumental ones in the program. After all these historical divagations, Vivaldi still sounds masterly, both in his solo Concerto, RV 310, and in the celebrated Concerto for Four Violins, RV 580, to which Chandler and the ensemble have added stirring rhetorical flourishes and richly conceived ornamentation.


La Serenissima, recorded crisply in an amply resonant ambiance, plays with a bracingly accented and thumping, though bubbling, bounce that emphasizes the bass’s strong underpinning role; they eschew both the lushness of modern instrumental sounds and the whining and edgy abrasiveness of period ones. Much of the repertoire may be unfamiliar to listeners, but Chandler and La Serenissima make it highly accessible. Recommended to general listeners as heartily as to students of the period.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

Classical Music

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.

Classical Music

Philippe Graffin’s enterprise and ingenuity have been borne out in the world-premiere recording of the Violin Concerto by Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (AV 0044), a disc of commissions and premieres by Lithuanian composer Vytautus Barkauskus (AV 2073), and the first recording of the original manuscript versions of Elgar’s Violin Concerto and Chausson’s Poème (AV 2091). He proves himself an equally eminent Mozartian on his latest Avie release, a two-disc set marking his second collaboration on Avie with the leading Japanese violist Nobuko Imai.

In the sprightly Sinfonia Concertante, two delightful Duos, the Third Concerto plus an Adagio and a Rondo, the multi-tasking Graffin takes on the roles of soloist, chamber musician, director, and composer of his own cadenzas. He is backed by the versatile Brabant Philharmonic Orchestra of Eindhoven, The Netherlands. The stylish packaging features another typical twist by the resourceful Graffin, who commissioned leading journalist and novelist Jessica Duchen to write a short story for the booklet, which also includes Avie’s trademark comprehensive documentation in three languages.

REVIEWS:

His playing combines Grumiaux’s elegance, Oistrakh’s warmth, Francescatti’s piquancy, and Stern’s élan. With nuances so plentiful and rhythms so zesty, even proponents of period performance shouldn’t cavil. The Third Concerto opens with an orchestral thematic statement that almost bounces off the disc; and it’s propelled by deeply dimensional recorded sound that allows the bass to resonate fully. Never in this movement, or in the others for that matter, does either soloist or orchestra indulge in self-conscious mannerism, even in Graffin’s reworking of Eugène Ysaÿe’s romantic cadenza, which Graffin makes fit into the work’s general aesthetic (Graffin himself wrote the cadenzas to the other movements and for both the Adagio and the Rondo). In fact, the finale clips along at a tempo that avoids any excessive seriousness; and Graffin’s ornaments add to the momentum. The Adagio benefits in the same way from Graffin’s refined approach, as does the Rondo, in which his passagework sparkles even more brightly than that in the Third Concerto’s finale.

Graffin and the orchestra imbue the opening passages of the Sinfonia concertante with pregnant excitement and expectation; and Graffin and Imai’s entrance doesn’t disappoint that expectation; the later tuttis renew the forward motion, if that were necessary after the brilliant solos. So this familiar courtesan has been transformed into a vigorous acrobat in the first and third movements, and into a poet in the second. Celebrity duos who have played Mozart’s duets for violin and viola sometimes include a part-time violist (Pinchas Zukerman and David Oistrakh, for example). But these later works benefit from Imai’s focused yet fully viola-like approach to her instrument, especially perhaps in the darker opening of the second in the set. Graffin doesn’t shy away from portamentos—which Imai doesn’t always duplicate when she answers his statements—but any stylistic differences hardly compromise the partnership that renders these performances so appealing.

[With] lifelike, reverberant recorded sound to complement the robust orchestral playing and the intimate dialogues of the duos, Avie has served up one of the tangier offerings—if not the tangiest of all—of the last several years. Urgently recommended, especially to those to whom Mozart may have grown too familiar (if that’s conceivable) during this period.

-- Fanfare

Quite an achievement.

If you have heard the Durham Concerto or the zanily named Boom of the Tingling Strings you will know that since departing Deep Purple in 2002 Jon Lord has been gripped by classical composing. The earliest stirrings of this hunger go back to the 1969 and his Concerto for Group and Orchestra. It was premiered, filmed and recorded live at the Royal Albert Hall with Deep Purple and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Sir Malcolm Arnold. The next year the BBC commissioned The Gemini Suite. In 1974 Sarabande followed and in 1997 came Lord’s solo CD Pictured Within.
 
To Notice Such Things is clearly a very personal and affecting portrait of Lord’s friendship with John Mortimer, CBE, QC (1923–2009). It traces its origins to the affectionate stage show, Mortimer’s Miscellany. The title of the score is from the Thomas Hardy poem Afterwards which ended the show. The first movement, As I Walked Out One Evening is from the W.H. Auden poem and relates to the music that opened the revue. At Court picks up on Mortimer’s days as the darling of the combative anti-establishment in the 1960s and 1970s. Turville Heath is where Mortimer lived and we are told that the movement gives an impression of Mortimer in his beloved garden. In extreme old age his legs began to fail him. Stick Dance is said to portray our hero’s appreciation of a female companion jiving while Mortimer leans on his walking stick. Mortimer chose the dormouse to figure in his coat of arms. The Winter of a Dormouse is an attempt to describe Sir John's final months. It’s an affectionate and poignant farewell. The friendship throughout is echoed in the flute which voices Sir John. Lord is reflected in the solo piano role. These figures are played by the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra’s principal flautist Cormac Henry and by the composer’s piano.

Counter-intuitively As I Walked Out One Evening has all the warm vernal freshness of the morning of the world. This is coupled with a peculiarly English contentment – an ecstasy in being there. The language is caught between the pastoral Vaughan Williams of the 1910s and 1920s and the Copland counterpart. At Court is part lightly serene and partly rushing cut-and-thrust carried by the flute with brusquely joyous strings. Turville Heath hints at a Gallic-Delian influence although the presence of the self-effacingly supportive piano pulls the rug out from under the comparison. This movement could easily join the host of short piano and orchestra miniatures by Bax, Milford and Armstrong Gibbs. Towards its close the gentle muse dances with an innocent smile. In Stick Dance there is a Shostakovich-like caustic serration to the string writing though this does relent to make way for curvaceous gliding and dancing of the flute. The Winter of a Dormouse touches on desolation but from its chilly shores the flute sings, invoking and reviving the delights of years gone by and of the changes wrought by the passage of the years. Interesting how the flute line remains succulent in tone but it is now more pensive. The flute solo curves down a gentle gradient into silence. Afterwards is the final movement for piano and orchestra though the flute also plays its part. The writing has a distinctly Finzian poignant reflective quality - the drowsy heat-haze of a summer’s eclogue into which this sweetly tempered work fades.

The other four tracks are occupied by short pieces. Evening Song is for piano, alto flute, french horn and orchestra. Starting out as one of the pieces in Lord’s Pictured Within, it lays convincing claim to the sentimental congeries entwining that ideal English sunset. This is a place in space and time where contemplation is by itself fully satisfying. The solo violin part reminded me of Finzi’s Severn Rhapsody. For Example is a piece for string orchestra and flute. Its origins lie in a small piano piece dedicated to Lord’s friends the Trondheim Soloists and their Artistic Director and Principal Cellist, Øyvind Gimse. It’s a pensive essay with just that tincture of Grieg – a composer who was one of Lord’s earliest favourites. Air on the Blue String is for flute and strings –a contented essay with a few gently stern moments to provide backbone. This too had its genesis in a piano solo. The disc ends with Jeremy Irons’ undemonstrative reading of Hardy’s melancholic-fatalistic poem, Afterwards. The poem registers with even more depth. It is clothed with Jon Lord’s piano line which provides a symbiotic modest commentary.

This is a well presented, recorded and annotated album and one that will please those who respond to Finzian pastoral melancholy. Quite an achievement.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International