Classical Music

Classical Music

VIVALDI “Paris” Concertos: No. 2 in e, RV 133; No. 8 in d, RV 127; No. 11 in G, RV 150. Concerto in F for Violin and Oboe, RV 543. Flute Concertos: in a, RV 440; in d, RV 431a, “Il Gran Mogol.” Concerto for Flute, 2 Violins, and Bassoon, RV 104, “La note.” Bassoon Concerto in C, RV 473. Violin Concerto in B?, RV 365 • Adrian Chandler (vn, cond); Katy Bircher (fl); Gail Hennessy (ob); Peter Whelan (bn); La Serenissima (period instruments) • AVIE 2218 (79:03)


Titled The French Connection 2 , this is La Serenissima’s second collection devoted to concertos by Vivaldi composed for a French nobleman, or with stylistic elements typical of French music from that period. (RV 431a was written on French paper!) If you’re having déjà vu all over again, it’s because I reviewed the first collection (Avie 2178) almost exactly two years ago in Fanfare 33:2. As I remarked last time, France had a strong appetite for the music of Vivaldi and his fellow Italians during the 1720s and ’30s, and so it is not surprising that Vivaldi, on occasion, “spoke French.” Adrian Chandler’s excellent booklet note discusses this in greater detail than it is possible to do here.


Two CD premieres are claimed here, that of RV 431a and RV 365. The former was discovered in April 2010 in the National Archives of Scotland. Unfortunately, a second violin part was missing, but Andrew Woolley reconstructed it, using RV 431 (a simplified version of RV 431a) as a guide. A “Mogol,” by the way, is a representative of the Mughal Empire, part of the Indian subcontinent during Vivaldi’s lifetime. Some of the music on this CD is unfamiliar, then, and some of it will have the average Baroque enthusiast nodding and saying, “I’ve heard this one before.” All of it is of high quality, and there are, as always, some surprises. Chief among these is RV 473, which concludes with a lengthy Menuet en Rondeau . Longer than the first two movements combined, this movement would unbalance the concerto were it not so enjoyable, and were its increasingly ornate variations not so inventive.


Compared to other period-instrument ensembles, La Serenissima’s performances are well mannered, yet they are lively when they need to be, and gently introspective when they are not. The soloists are members of the ensemble. Last time I singled out bassoonist Peter Whelan, and I am moved to do so again. His joyful and virtuosic quacking in RV 473 is the sound that lingers most tenaciously in my ears after this CD has stopped spinning. Like many English ensembles of this sort, La Serenissima is a touch too proper to do full justice to Vivaldi’s Mediterranean temperament. Its name is an allusion to Venice, I assume, but it also describes its musicianship, for better or worse. (Mostly better.)


FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle



Vivaldi is one of the most frequently-recorded composers these days. If you want to record his music and want to avoid the beaten path, what do you do? The answer from Adrian Chandler and La Serenissima is to look at Vivaldi's music from a thematic angle. The booklet for this CD lists the discs they have made over the years. One of the themes was "Vivaldi in Arcadia", and another "Music for the Chapel of the Pietà". This disc is the second devoted to "The French Connection". This title has to be taken with a grain of salt as there is no formal connection between Vivaldi and France. He was never in the service of a French court and never wrote music at the request of any French aristocrat. Chandler rather wants to shed light on French elements in Vivaldi's music.
 
Everyone knows how strongly French composers of the early 18th century were under the influence of the Italian style. Music by Italian composers, and in particular by Vivaldi, was frequently performed in France, for instance in the Concert Spirituel. The influence of the French style in Italy is far less known. In his liner-notes Chandler refers to several traces of French influence in Italy, and especially in the oeuvre of Vivaldi. If there is a 'French connection' it could be a collection of concertos for strings and basso continuo which are referred to as the 'Paris' concertos. Chandler suggests that these could have been intended as a presentation set for a French nobleman.
 
In the booklet the French elements of every piece on the programme are listed. In particular aspects of the French overture style are traceable. The second movement of the Concerto in F (RV 543) is entitled 'allegro alla francese'. The finale of this concerto is a minuet, and the Concerto in C (RV 473) even ends with a 'menuet en rondeau'. That is all very interesting, and Chandler could be right that these are deliberate references to the French style. At the same time it is quite possible that these elements had become so generally accepted that they were not experienced as specifically 'French'. How many music-lovers or even composers of today think of Poland when they hear or play a polonaise? In the early 17th century Italian keyboard composers also wrote pieces 'alla francese'. But scholars can't identify exactly what is so French about them. Sometimes the connection seems rather far-fetched. According to the list the 'French connection' of the Concerto in d minor (RV 431a) is that the manuscript was written on French paper. Well ...
 
That concerto, with the nickname Il Gran Mogol, is one of the main attractions of this disc. It was only recently discovered in Edinburgh, of all places. Not that it was entirely new. Scholars knew that it had been written, and a reworking is listed as RV 431. This version also allowed the reconstruction of the missing second violin part of the first version, which is catalogued as RV 431a and is recorded here. It was part of a series of concertos devoted to various nationalities. This one referred to the Mughal Empire (India). Other concertos have disappeared. Those with a more than average knowledge of Vivaldi's oeuvre will immediately think of another concerto, this time for violin, with the title 'Il Grosso Mogul'. But that is an entirely different piece and has nothing in common with this flute concerto.
 
This piece has been recorded for the first time, and that is also the case with the Concerto in B flat (RV 365). It exists in two versions, the first of which is played here. The liner-notes don't say whether this concerto has been recorded before in its second version. The main difference regards the last movement of which there are two; here the oldest is played. Notable in the programme is also the Concerto in F (RV 543): the French elements in the titles of the various movements have already been mentioned. It needs to be added that the two solo instruments largely play unisono, which could be a reference to the French habit of oboes playing colla parte with the violins. It is also remarkable that there is no slow movement: there are three allegros and a closing minuet.
 
The most virtuosic piece is definitely the Concerto in C (RV 473) with many wide leaps and some very low notes. Vivaldi must have had a particularly skilled soloist in mind. It is remarkable anyway how many bassoon concertos he wrote and they are all quite demanding. Peter Whelan delivers a brilliant performance. The closing 'menuet en rondeau' is especially impressive. It is one of the disc’s highlights. The performances are generally quite good, though I find them at times too restrained. The fast movements come off fairly well, but the slow ones are often too static, especially as long notes are mostly devoid of dynamic shading. Katy Bircher gives a fine performance of one of Vivaldi's most popular pieces, the Concerto La Notte (RV 104). She is equally convincing in the two flute concertos.
 
On balance, the concept of this disc, the choice of music and the performances make this an interesting contribution to the growing Vivaldi discography.
 
-- Johan van Veen, MusicWeb International

The playing throughout is sensitive and glowing in this meditative and glistening work that recalls Vaughan Williams and Hovhaness.

The composer Jon Lord rose to fame in the 1970s as a member of Deep Purple. Celebrity collaborations between the group and Malcolm Arnold included Concerto for Group and Orchestra written and scored by John Lord and conducted by Malcolm Arnold. Lord has over the intervening years increasingly extended his reputation into the classical field. The Durham Concerto is the latest and most ambitious example to date. In this he is not alone, witness the various classical pieces by Paul McCartney - the latest being Ecce Cor Meum and the orchestral work Seven by Tony Banks of Genesis – a work recorded on Naxos. All are individual in their own way but a sign that some musicians with a rock-popular reputation felt the siren call of classical eternity even if we ignore the blurring of ‘boundaries’ represented by the work of Frank Zappa, Soft Machine and Tangerine Dream.

At the most meagre level this is a beautifully packaged delightful musical souvenir of Durham University's 175th anniversary in 2007. The concept might remind you of John Scott’s Colchester Symphony but this is in fact a seriously-intentioned extended orchestral suite of six movements grouped in pairs.

At the start long-held Tallis-like string chords speak out of the mists of antiquity. This is music that takes a slow-shifting shading from Hovhaness. The glistening murmur forms a backdrop to meditative solos from the wind instruments. Then at 3.10 comes Ruth Palmer's Lark-like violin solo speaking as a fragile human voice against the downward remorseless tread of time. Given the accent of this first movement it is some surprise that Lord was not among those pop-contemporary world musicians interviewed for Tony Palmer’s recent RVW film-biography. As this movement, entitled Cathedral at Dawn, rises to its peak it is the notable ecstasy of Vaughan Williams that is most closely echoed.

The composer's Hammond organ is featured in four of the six movements. It ushers in the second (Durham Awakes) with its atmospheric solo for Northumbrian Pipes. The pipes are played by that doyenne of the instrument Kathryn Tickell. Matthew Barley's solo cello acts as orator and encourager in this Copland-inflected music but ancient and melancholically serene voices from the Pipes – unable to escape celtic connections - and the solo violin are there too. The Hammond also intercedes at several points. This movement proves a fine example of the successful interweave of pipes, cello and violin.

Those first two movements form Part 1: Morning. Then comes Afternoon in the shape of another two movements. The first reflects the spiritual journey of St Cuthbert and the physical journey of his mortal remains to interment in the Cathedral. It communicates as a slow revelatory sunset much in the same atmosphere as the Dawn. This is followed by the equally introspective, cello-led From Prebends Bridge. Here the composer had in mind the view from the Bridge and the innumerable people who have stood and taken in that view down a thousand years.

The cello solo once or twice seems rather meandering before it gathers itself for a more direct and emotionally hard-hitting address. The music here reminded me of the Elgar concerto, Rubbra's Soliloquy and Holst's Invocation. Then comes a much needed rowdy movement in which students on a rag day and a miners gala meet head on. The brassy whoops here reminded me of Arnold. Again Lord's Hammond is to the fore, lending dynamism to its usual watery discourse - it's the nature of the instrument. There's plenty of forward pulse here and the orchestra have fun with the pizzicato writing. The Arnold accent appears strongly at 4:12 onwards with something of the Commonwealth Christmas Overture to be heard as well as a nicely burred and brassy Gaudeamus Igitur at 6:21. History takes hold again at the end of the movement and those sustained string chords reassert the long view. The Pipes invoke the sorrowing melancholy of heritage morphing without break into the long meditative finale: Durham Nocturne.

I hope we will hear more of Lord's classical compositions including the suite for strings, Disguises (2004) and the piano concerto Boom of the Tingling Strings (2003). Both are due out from EMI later in 2008. What else remains to be recorded?

The concept of the present piece and the use of an 'ethnic' instrument recall, as an idea, Shaun Davey's works – especially The Relief of Derry Symphony and The Brendan Voyage.

The playing throughout the Durham Concerto is sensitive and glowing with much accomplished and thoughtful work for the solo instruments. The recording produces an almost tangible effect without embracing an in-your-face pop balance.

Here is an extended work of continuity across six substantial movements. The predominant meditative character will instantly mesh with those who love John Barry’s Beyondness of Things, Tavener and Vaughan Williams.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

No question, recordings of lute music are primarily snapped up by specialists and serious fans of the instrument--it's probably a rare thing for an undecided record store shopper to just impulsively pick up and purchase such a disc as this perfectly fine program of music from "Jane Pickeringe's Lute Book". However, owing to the extraordinary talents of lutenist Jacob Heringman and the eight- and ten-course lutes featured on this recording, it's not inconceivable that a sympathetic listener would be drawn to this gentle, genteel, and agreeably tuneful music and to the ear-friendly sound. Although most of the represented works are by anonymous early-17th century composers, such luminaries as Byrd and Dowland appear in this mysterious collector's manuscript.


These 30 works (nearly 75 minutes' worth!) are characterized by nothing if not variety of mood and rhythmic structure, contained in all manner of familiar forms of the period--allemande, galliard, horn-pipe, pavane, fantasia. Heringman, whose credits include more than 50 recordings, many in collaboration with major artists, is a perfect guide to this repertoire. His playing is a marvel of clarity and evenness of articulation across registers, but he also is careful to bring the melody appropriate prominence against subordinate accompanying figures when required. His always tasteful ornaments and ability to obtain colors from a single instrument that make us wonder if we're actually hearing two add up to a rare and entertaining listening experience--nothing earth-shaking or ground-breaking, just solid music-making. The sound is quite resonant yet captures all the close-up detail we could ask for with no distracting squeaking or scraping. [6/29/2002]
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

This selection was recorded at Raveningham Church, Raveningham, Norfolk, England and St. Mary-at-Hill Church. London, England.

While Johann Georg Pisendel is primarily remembered today as the 18th century virtuoso that inspired Bach to compose his renowned Sonatas and Partitas for solo violin, this extraordinary program "Per Monsieur Pisendel" reveals the violinist/composer's influence to be much more widespread and diverse. Each of the six violin sonatas offered was either dedicated to or composed by Pisendel himself, amply attesting to his apparent charisma and exemplary skill. La Serenissima's members--violinist Adrian Chandler, cellist Gareth Deats, and harpsichordist Robert Howarth--rise to the occasion, delivering stirring, alert, and focused performances that ably serve Pisendel and his contemporaries Vivaldi and Albinoni.


Vivaldi's famous RV 6 opens the program, and like Romanesca (Harmonia Mundi) and the Biondi/Alessandrini/Naddeo/Pandolfo/Lislevand ensemble (Arcana), Chandler and colleagues brazenly draw out every dramatic nuance and diabolical twist implicit in the score. Especially enjoyable is their deft treatment of the third movement (Grave), heightened by numerous decorative flourishes throughout. The program in fact features a refreshingly wide variety and inventive use of ornamentation that, unlike so many other recitals of similar repertoire, perpetually keeps things interesting. Chandler's spellbinding rendering of Pisendel's Allegro from his Sonata in D is absolutely spectacular! Likewise, Chandler's performance of the second-movement Allegro of Vivaldi's Suonata a Solo facto per Monsieur Pisendel del Vivaldi in C, RV 2 equally impresses in its cocksure bite and vigor.


Complementing La Serenissima's excellent performances is Avie's clear and immediate sound. Chandler's excellent notes are informative and entertaining. This debut recording couldn't be more auspicious. Highly recommended.
--John Greene, ClassicsToday.com

Apollo’s Fire has won critical acclaim and enjoyed Top 10 Billboard Classical chart success with their half-dozen releases on AVIE. Returning to their baroque roots, they offer a selection of works by Handel that showcase the Apollo’s Fire chorus. The centerpiece of the album is the grand Dixit Dominus, written during the composer’s early days in Rome. In a gesture to Queen Elizabeth II’s Diamond Jubilee year, Sorrell has chosen two works written for the monarch’s forbearers: the “Ode for the Birthday of Queen Anne” and “Zadok the Priest.” As a bonus, Sorrell includes “The Lord Shall Reign” from the epic Israel in Egypt.

FAURÉ Barcarolles (complete) . 3 Romances sans paroles , op. 17 • Charles Owen (pn) • AVIE AV 2240 (63:20)


At the midcentury there were still artists active who had known Fauré and were cognizant of his world, however rapidly it may have been passing. One thinks of Marguerite Long, Yvonne Lefébure, Vlado Perlemuter, Robert Casadesus, Jean Doyen. As Fauré passed from living memory, a new generation of pianists approached his works with the generic, heavily pedaled, freely rubatomized manner that was the pianistic lingua franca of the 20th century’s last third. Matters of touch—light or sec, and sparing—and rhythmic steadiness were forgotten or ignored, and the public came to accept what was offered, that is, a sound very different from that which Fauré took for granted. The matter is not one of insisting upon slavish adherence to a “sacred tradition”—now, in any case, beyond recall—but of cultivating those oddments of style facilitating the optimum realization of Fauré’s music, which trails a dimension not always evident from close reading of its performing directions.


The marvel is the breathing naturalness with which Charles Owen has accomplished it—a marvel so complete that one is delighted, moved, entranced, noting only how deftly it is done. Without giving accompaniments or subsidiary figures undue prominence, every part is alive and singing with absolute, silvery clarity. Complementing his nonpareil traversal of the nocturnes (Avie 2133, Fanfare 32:1), Owen wings the barcarolles’ expressive curve, from early blithesomeness through middle-period pith and wizardry to the spare poetry of wizened old age, with a sympathetic grasp reviving, for an hour, a vanished world. One leaves it overcome with gratitude—gratitude to the composer, the artist, and for their rare endeavor, which has turned out so ravishingly well. For decades, the great and aptly named Jean Doyen’s traversal of the complete piano works was an unfailing touchstone for revealing Fauré’s manner of saying important things conversationally. Unfortunately, Erato’s masters were in sorry shape and their transfer to CDs was a disappointment. The good news is that Owen overtops him, and in sound of detailed, open, savoring immediacy. Jessica Duchen’s knowing annotations—a beautifully written contribution to the Fauré literature—confect a final elegance. This is for the ages, classic and indispensable.


FANFARE: Adrian Corleonis

BACH Trauer-Music, BWV 244a • Andrew Parrott, cond; Emily van Evera (sop); Clare Wilkinson (ms); Charles Daniels (ten); Tom Meglioranza (bar); Taverner Consort & Players • AVIE AV2241 (78:40 Text and Translation)


Anyone wishing to perform the funeral music for Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Cöthen, Bach’s onetime boss, comes up against a serious technical problem:There is no music for it, though the text survives. Doing something about such situations is the very stuff of much modern musicology. Consider the new movements for the music of Mahler, Elgar, Britten, even whole new music (in the style of or, perhaps, not: Manfred Tojahn’s for La clemenza di Tito or Luciano Berio’s for Turandot ). The arguments for this sort of thing are well worn but are still making the rounds: The composer did this sort of thing himself, the composer would have wanted this piece finished, it gives us a new view of this or that period, approach, style of the composer, and so on without any end in sight. Bach is an especial victim of this sort of carpentry, and BWV 244a is a tempting target, along with the St. Mark and St. Luke Passions.


When he compiled the Bach Werke-Verzeichnis in 1950, Wolfgang Schmieder noted that a good deal of Picander’s 1728 text fit certain numbers of the 1725 St. Matthew Passion (which is why it shares the same BWV number) and the 1727 Trauer-Ode (BWV 198). In what I assume will be the notes for this recording, Andrew Parrott makes clear what fits where, leaving only the problem of the recitatives, which he composed himself and about which he himself says “caveat emptor,” and the final organization of the whole, which he posits took place in four sections instead of what seems to be only two or three, and began the night before with the funeral itself, followed the next day with the memorial service. This necessitates a rearrangement of the libretto as printed, which he argues may not have represented exactly what happened.


To the question of why we need this reconstruction Parrott gives no direct answer, but, as the longest of the known remaining texts for which there is no music, it clearly constitutes a challenge. He also thinks it refreshing to encounter some of this music in a different context. It must be said, then, that Parrott meets this challenge with his customary energy and expertise.


This performance is made with the kind of disposition Parrott has used for decades, and argued forcefully for in The Essential Bach Choir (2001), mostly one-to-a-part, with the choruses doubled here. While this approach seems reasonable for the church cantatas, I think it entirely unlikely for the passions, the Trauer-Ode , and this piece, music that required the greatest possible effect, not least in the choruses. Interestingly, as with the Trauer-Ode and the secular cantatas, but not with the Passions, there are no chorales.


Let it be noted, then, that, within his musicological choices, Parrott has made a convincing job of this piece. The Taverner Consort plays with long-won expertise, and the soloists are uniformly good. The eight-member chorus just does not have enough gravity, and the sopranos tend to be a bit shrill in places. When it joins the tenor in two numbers, they are recorded distantly, though on their own quite close up, as is most of the recording. As near as I can tell, there is no other recording of an attempted reconstruction of this music. No matter; if one is needed, this one will do nicely.


FANFARE: Alan Swanson

GÁL Cello Concerto. ELGAR Cello Concerto • Antonio Meneses (vc); Claudio Cruz, cond; Northern Sinf • AVIE 2237 (61:48)

Receiving two very fine recordings of my favorite cello concerto, the Elgar, two issues in a row (see Fanfare 36:1 for review of Paul Watkins’s Chandos release) is enough treat in itself. But the real news here is the first-ever recording of Hans Gál’s Cello Concerto, composed in 1944 under very trying circumstances.

It’s not surprising, I suppose, that the booklet cover that displays through the jewel case’s front window lists the Elgar first, no doubt a lure based on name recognition. But it’s the Gál that comes first on the disc and is so confirmed by the booklet’s backplate that displays through the rear window.

Hans Gál (1890–1987) lived a long life but one filled with tragedy for a good part of it. An Austrian Jew, he was caught up in the Nazi vise, believing he’d be safe back in Austria after being dismissed from his post as director of the Mainz Conservatory in Germany. But the Anschluss soon brought Hitler’s storm troopers to Austria to round up and deport the Jews there as well. Gál and his immediate family were able to escape to the U.K. in 1938 before they were conveyed to a concentration camp, but trouble followed them across the Channel.

At first, Gál’s prospects brightened. Francis Donald Tovey invited him to Edinburgh to work as an archivist cataloging the Reid Music Library. But when Tovey was suddenly incapacitated by a stroke, Gál returned to London just in time for the outbreak of the war. Citing national security concerns, the Brits began rounding up German and Austrian nationals and sequestering them in detention camps. Gál was caught up in the sweeps and found himself interned in a camp on the Isle of Man, perversely incarcerated side by side with those from whom he’d fled. Upon his release four months later, he returned to Edinburgh. But by now, Hitler’s death camps, mostly in Poland, were working overtime, and members of Gál’s extended family who were still in Germany were at grave risk.

Gál’s mother, thankfully for her, died on her own in 1942, but in Weimar his sister and an aunt took their own lives to avoid deportation to Auschwitz, and that same year, Gál’s youngest son, Peter, who was physically out of harm’s way with the family in Edinburgh, committed suicide at the age of 18. Gál remained in Edinburgh where he was appointed lecturer at the city’s university, founded the Edinburgh Festival, and was eventually awarded the Order of the British Empire. He was also honored by the nations that would almost certainly have killed him had he remained. His cantata De Profundis was premiered in Wiesbaden, and he was awarded an honorary doctorate by the University of Mainz and the Literis et Artibus medal by Austria.

Gál’s Cello Concerto is a work purely of the heart and soul, for no commission or even remote prospect of performance prompted it. Six years would pass before the work was first heard at a concert by the Göteborg Orchestra in 1950 with cellist Guido Vecchi playing the solo part.

Despite its 1944 date of composition, the concerto is as romantic a score as anyone could have made to order. Considering the circumstances under which it was written, it’s not as dark a work as Elgar’s World War I Cello Concerto. There are passages, however, of lament and exquisite, soaring lyrical beauty, and from time to time an exotic Middle Eastern element in the music comes to the surface that distantly echoes Bloch’s Schelomo and Voice in the Wilderness. The solo part in Gál’s concerto requires a good deal of virtuosic skill, but the work is not what you would call a virtuoso showpiece. For much of the score’s first two movements, the cello plays an almost obbligato role, dialoging with instruments in the orchestra in a pretty much equal engagement. It’s not until the concluding movement, in which the cello has an extended and technically challenging cadenza, that the writing highlights the soloist in a more traditional virtuoso concerto role.

This is a most magnificent addition to the cello repertoire, a work that, in my opinion, deserves to take its place beside the Schumann, Dvo?ák, and Elgar concertos as one of the cello’s great repertoire works. Antonio Meneses, unquestionably one of the instrument’s great players on the world stage, performs Gál’s concerto with breathtaking sweep.

Elgar’s Cello Concerto is well known and has been covered extensively in these pages. Therefore, I will restrict myself to telling you that Meneses’s deeply penetrating, intensely passionate, throbbing reading, supported by some of the most sympathetic orchestral playing from Claudio Cruz and the Northern Sinfonia I’ve heard in this score, goes straight to my 2012 Want List without passing GO.

This is an absolutely must-have disc, assuredly for the Gál, but also for one of the most beautiful performances of the Elgar you may ever hear.

FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Musicians savour each other’s company in inspiring music: happy birthday!

When Trevor Pinnock first recorded the Brandenburgs with the English Concert for DG Archiv in 1982, period performances of these works were relatively rare; today they abound, and it has become harder to make a mark in music that does not readily admit a wide range of interpretations. Not that Pinnock need worry about that at this point in his career. This new recording, made with an ensemble hand-picked for the job, is a 60th-birthday present to himself, and is just what such a project should be: talented musicians relishing each other’s company in music of truly inspiring greatness.

Unsurprisingly, it reflects the increased playing standards of 25 years of period-instrument growth. Only Pinnock himself remains from that first line-up, and while the players then were a high-class team (Simon Standage, Lisa Beznosiuk and Michael Laird among them), the players of the European Brandenburg Ensemble include some of the finest of today’s Baroque chamber players, and there is a relaxed expertise about their performances which seems to allow them to communicate directly and without technical or ideological hindrance. A hint of over-exuberant thickness in the texture of Concerto No 1 is perhaps a reflection of this, but elsewhere it is good to hear playing from the likes of violinist Kati Debretzeni, flautist Katy Bircher and the excellent David Blackadder on trumpet that is bold and confident without straying into coarseness. The clarity achieved in Nos 4, 5 and 6 also has a more natural air than the “studio?y” balance of the Archiv set, no doubt helped by the decision to use a violone at pitch rather than the more usual octave below. The pensive violin improvisation which links the two movements of No 3 is surely a miscalculation, feeling like more of a hold-up than it need be; more lastingly refreshing to my ears were the subtle relaxations of tension in the first movement of No 6, these days so often given the hard-drive treatment.

This is not a Brandenburg set that sets out to score points, and all that is needed from us is to sit back and enjoy its relaxed, celebratory spirit.

-- Lindsay Kemp, Gramophone [3/2008]

about the release Elizabeth Hainen, Solo Harpist of the Philadelphia Orchestra, is known internationally as one of classical music's great harp ambassadors. She has thrilled audiences throughout the world with programmes showcasing the diversity and virtuosity of her instrument. Her first recording for Avie features three concerti spanning as many centuries. Austrian composer Johann Georg Albrechtsberger was a highly regarded teacher who counted Hummel and Beethoven among his pupils, and whose Harp Concerto of 1773 straddled the Baroque and Classical eras. English harpist and composer Elias Parish Alvars toured Europe widely and settled in Vienna. His G minor Concerto, written in 1842, was a virtuosic vehicle befitting his own temperament - Berlioz called him the Liszt of the harp. Saint-Saëns wrote dozens of concertante works but only one for harp, the 1918 Morceau de concert. Elizabeth will be a featured artist at the 2011 World Harp Congress in July, performing the Parish Alvars Concerto with members of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra. critical acclaim "silky transparency" - The Washington Post "ability to blend and color the musical line [and] to find transparency in an almost timeless atmosphere." - Philadelphia Inquirer "a complete harpist who knows and uses her instrument's strength and brilliance and strikes its fire" - Miami Herald

In 2005, Joyce Yang became the youngest ever medallist of the Van Cliburn International Competition, and in 2010 she was awarded the Avery Fisher Career Grant. She now makes her recording debut for Avie with a collage of a program that ideally represents her artistry. Joyce chose pieces that illuminate each other in arresting ways: Sebastian Currier's Scarlatti Cadences reflect the repetitious melodic motifs of Scarlatti's Sonatas, Lowell Liebermann's Gargoyles echo the esoteric timelessness of Debussy's Estampes, and Liszt's transcription of Chopin's song My Joys opens a window onto Schumann's Carnaval. These works are an aural autobiography of Joyce's first 20-some years of music making, and also portray her unique brand of synesthesia, the visualization of music in shapes and colours. Appropriately, the repertoire Joyce chose for this recording is inspired by vivid imagery, and the striking artwork is the result of collaboration with artist Joan Snyder, whose colorful paintings are featured throughout. Joyce performs with such orchestras as the New York and Los Angeles Philharmonics; Chicago, San Francisco, Baltimore and Houston Symphonies; Philadelphia Orchestra and BBC Philharmonic, with such conductors as Edo de Waart, Lorin Maazel, James Conlon, Leonard Slatkin, and David Robertson. In recital Joyce has appeared at Lincoln Center's Alice Tully Hall, the Metropolitan Museum, the Kennedy Center, Chicago's Symphony Hall, and Zurich's Tonhalle. An avid chamber musician, she is a recurring guest at the summer festivals in Aspen, La Jolla and Santa Fe. Born in Seoul, Korea in 1986, Ms. Yang moved to the United States in 1997 to study at the Juilliard School where she graduated with honours. A Steinway Artist since 2008, Joyce resides in New York City. critical acclaim for Joyce Yang "romantic flair with musicianly elegance" - The New York Times "Poetic and sensitive pianism ... capable of hurling thunderbolts. - The Washington Post "polished, pearly evenness that was remarkable for its ease up and down the keyboard." - Los Angeles Times

REVIEW:

This CD has been given the title “The French Connection,” but it has nothing to do with the 1971 film in which Gene Hackman plays a New York City police detective trying to figure out where all the heroin is coming from. Instead, the title is an allusion to the increasing interest that French and Italian composers (and music lovers in general) had in each other’s music during the 1720s and 1730s. Vivaldi was an important player in this virtual exchange program, and supplied music—either new or recycled—for French patrons and printers. Even music intended for domestic use sometimes spoke with a French accent, as it were, during this period. Try the opening of RV 211 (probably composed as an operatic entr’acte) and you’ll immediately hear, in the dotted rhythms and swooping flourishes, an example of Vivaldi “speaking French.” This CD, then, is a varied compilation of works that fit into one of the above categories. As usual, one is impressed with Vivaldi’s fecundity and flexibility.

Adrian Chandler’s booklet notes are in two parts. The first is a discussion of Vivaldi’s impact on French music, and vice-versa. The second is “A note on the performance—a musician’s perspective.” This is a really terrific bit of musicology that even a layman should be able to get into. For example, in two of the so-called “Paris” concertos, a theorbo is used in the continuo, but in the fifth concerto, it is replaced with a guitar. Why, you might ask? Chandler argues that this concerto appears to have been specifically composed for a French audience and is the most typically French in style; therefore, it makes sense to use a guitar, which apparently was uncommon in Italian orchestral music at that time. Chandler also explains the two fragments included on this CD—concertos lacking one or more movements. Schubert’s “Unfinished” is, after all, a fragment, too, argues Chandler. I don’t think either of these fragments rises to Schubert’s level (or Bruckner’s Ninth!), but I agree with Chandler that works shouldn’t be ignored just because they are incomplete.

At first I thought that these performances were going to be too aggressive, but fortunately that is not the case, at least for the most part. The playing is lively (but not rushed) and very well articulated, and the fast movements have an appealing bounce. The musicians seem to be having fun. The slow movements sing nicely, without too much sweetness. La Serenissima was founded in 1994 and has recorded several discs for Avie. I am sorry to have missed them until now, but I hope to make up for that. Flutist Bircher and bassoonist Whelan are members of the ensemble. Whelan is particularly delightful to hear as he burbles through Vivaldi’s busier passages. His bassoon, a modern copy of an old Venetian instrument, even sounds a little like a saxophone at times, and to my ears, that only adds to the fun.

The recording is rich and brilliant, but not everyone will like how it brings the soloists so well into the foreground.

FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle