Four years after a highly successful Bartok recording with the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra, Edward Gardner here returns to the composer on SACD, with James Ehnes as solo violinist, and his Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra. The central piece in this recording is the Concerto for Orchestra, the largest work that Bartok completed during the last five years of his life and described by the composer, in the program notes for its 1944 premiere, as ‘a gradual transition from the sternness of the first movement and the lugubrious death-song of the third, to the life-assertion of the last one.’ It is joined by the Dance Suite, the immediate predecessor, among Bartok’s few works for full orchestra without a soloist, of the Concerto for Orchestra, though by more than two decades; and by the violin Rhapsodies, the colorful folk influences of which are revealed by James Ehnes, a specialist in the repertoire, who already has recorded the complete sonatas as well as the concertos for violin and for viola to critical acclaim.

After acclaimed recordings of the Third (‘Dausgaard… makes the music sound vital and even revolutionary’, Fanfare) and Sixth (‘This persuasively played work could be no better served’, MusicWeb International), Thomas Dausgaard and the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra now present Anton Bruckner’s Fourth Symphony, ‘Romantic’ in its second version (1878-1880), the one with which this work has become widely known. “Nothing like this has been written since Beethoven” conductor Hans Richter is said to have declared after the successful premiere of Bruckner's Fourth Symphony in Vienna in 1881. This success finally gave the 56-year-old composer the attention and recognition he sorely needed and one can affirm that it was from this day onwards that Bruckner was actually cultivated in Vienna after years of public humiliation. Despite its nickname given by the composer himself, this symphony in no way expresses existential pain. Rather, the romanticism refers to the experience of nature – from sublime forest magic to hunting scenes – emphasized by the horn, the quintessential romantic instrument, which is given a prominent role.

REVIEW:

Dausgaard emerged early on as one of the most convincing HIP conductors of standard repertoire, and he has earned the right to express his individuality in Bruckner under normal conditions, one might say. His involvement with the score is undoubted, which makes the issue of fast tempos mostly irrelevant. Being different is worthwhile only when the difference is musically meaningful. I think that Dausgaard easily passes that test, in a Bruckner Fourth that is among the most striking in years.

-- Fanfare

Norwegian soprano Mari Eriksmoen is undoubtedly a rising star at the moment, following successful appearances at the Opéra-Comique in Paris, Grand Théâtre de Genève, Oper Frankfurt, Komische Oper Berlin, and Teatro alla Scala in Milan. On the concert stage she has made recent important appearances with the Orchestre de Paris, Berliner Philharmoniker, Oslo Philharmonic, and Münchner Philharmoniker among others. Here she joins the Bergen Philharmonic and Edward Gardner for a powerful album of orchestral songs, coupling Britten’s Les Illuminations and Four French Songs with a selection of Cantaloube’s inimitable Songs of the Auvergne. Eriksmoen spent a year studying in Paris, and proves an effective and natural singer of the French language. As she mentions in her program note: ‘It is highly demanding to sing in French when it is not one’s native tongue, but I have always felt at home when singing in French and nurture an emotional attachment to the French language.’

REVIEWS:

One cannot can’t praise Eriksmoen enough for the accuracy of her singing, its tonal beauty, and her absorption in the text. There are running passages, exposed intervals, and those chromatic steps to contend with. She faces every challenge with ease.

-- Fanfare

In Britten’s Les illuminations, the generally belllike accuracy of Norwegian soprano Mari Eriksmoen’s singing is more than matched by the expressive truth of her interpretations. She is most beguiling when floating her voice weightlessly and with a serene joie de vivre in ‘Antique’, perfectly partnered by the lovely violin playing of the Bergen Philharmonic leader Melina Mandozzi.

-- BBC Music Magazine

For this second instalment in their Nielsen cycle, Edward Gardner and the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra are joined by the flautist Adam Walker for a programme that combines the Flute Concerto, the Third Symphony, and the tone poem Pan and Syrinx. Nielsen began work on the Third Symphony in 1910, some seven years after he had completed his second symphony ‘The Four Temperaments’, and the work was premièred in Copenhagen in 1912. In his album note, Paul Griffiths describes the work’s eventual title, ‘Sinfonia espansiva’ as a fifth temperament – Joviality. In the second movement, uniquely in his symphonic output, Nielsen calls for (wordless) voices – solo soprano and baritone. It was also the first of his symphonies to be commercially released on record – Erik Tuxen conducting the Danish Radio Symphony Orchestra. Composed in 1926, the Flute Concerto is a late work, and demonstrates Nielsen’s stylistic evolution towards the new modernism. The soloist engages in repeated interactions with other instruments within the orchestra, most notably the clarinet and the bass trombone. Pan and Syrinx dates from 1918, and is based on the ancient legend which tells how the amorous god Pan invented the pan flute whilst pursuing the nymph Syrinx.

The Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra and Neeme Järvi present this unusual collection of popular works by Saint-Saëns, for orchestra and piano or cello. Truls Mork, this season’s Artist in Residence with the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France, is the soloist in the two contrasted cello concertos. His ‘seemingly flawless technical command’ is tested in the suave, expressive, famous No. 1 as well as in the many taxing solo passages, huge leaps, and double-stopping flourishes of No. 2. The indefatigable duo Louis Lortie and Hélène Mercier join in the posthumously published Carnival of the Animals, after a highly successful recording of Concertos by Poulenc with Edward Gardner, Disc of the Week in The Sunday Times. They offer the original version, which features a glass harmonica (normally substituted by a glockenspiel). Louis Lortie is also the soloist in the entertaining fantasia Africa, which incorporates folk tunes of the different countries in which it was composed and which is brought off with consummate zest, as well as in the most characteristic and probably challenging of the composer’s keyboard pieces, the Caprice-Valse Wedding-cake, written for the second wedding of the composer’s virtuosic pianist friend Caroline Montigny-Rémaury.

Review:

This is one of those recordings where it seems invidious to look for faults and which just encourages you to sit back, relax, listen and wallow. Mørk brings his characteristic incisiveness and mountain-spring tone to the concertos.

The Grande fantaisie zoologique receives one of its most successful performances on disc (sans narrator) with just the right balance of instrumental virtuosity, sensitive musicianship and, where the opportunity presents itself, fun. ‘Le cygne’ is elegantly phrased and gracefully paced.

Lovely program. Lovely recording. What’s not to like?

– Gramophone

“ ... [Davis] on fine form here with the Bergen Philharmonic. The opening to the Corsaire holds no terrors for them ... The lesser-known overtures reveal their virtues well. Davis, abetted by an excellent recording, responds vividly to Berlioz’s pioneering orchestral textures...” - John Warrack – International Record Review – February 2013

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The Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra under Sir Andrew Davis here perform seven dazzling orchestral overtures by Hector Berlioz, a composer who excelled in blending literary and musical elements into highly energetic and personal creations.

The overtures are widely varied in mood, as are the operas from which they were drawn. Berlioz wrote his first large-scale instrumental composition, the Overture to Les Francs-juges, in 1826, the year in which he enrolled at the Paris Conservatoire. Even though the opera itself was never performed, Berlioz remained proudly affectionate of the overture, which was played all over Germany and Holland in its early days. His second opera, Benvenuto Cellini, followed in 1838; its music gave rise both to the opera’s overture and to the concert overture Le Carnaval romain which depicts its subject in brilliant colour through breathtakingly vibrant orchestration.

The comic opera Béatrice et Bénédict took its inspiration from Shakespeare’s Much Ado about Nothing. The overture draws on an intense solo scene for Béatrice and adds elements of the cheerful banter that make up the story of the title characters’ playful courtship.

When Berlioz visited the Hungarian capital Pest in 1846, it was suggested to him that one way of winning the hearts of the audiences there would be to make an arrangement of the beloved Rákóczy March, which up until that point had been known only as a piano piece. Berlioz agreed, and on the very night before he left for Pest, he put together his own orchestral version of the piece. It was a resounding success when performed at his first concert, to the extent that Berlioz promptly included it in the large work on which he was working at the time: La Damnation de Faust.

Le Roi Lear, Le Corsaire, and Waverley have one thing in common: all are independent concert pieces that have been given the title overture as in many respects they do resemble opera overtures – but none is in actual fact connected to an opera. The composer here took his inspiration from literary works. Le Roi Lear, for instance, is a remarkable tone portrait of Shakespeare’s deranged king, full of energy and anger, while Le Corsaire may be loosely based on Byron’s The Corsair. Berlioz based Waverley on a novel of the same name by Sir Walter Scott, and the score bears a quotation in English: ‘Dreams of love and Lady’s charms, give place to honour and to arms.’ The contrast expressed so well in this simple quotation is equally evident in the music itself. Here the ‘dreams of love’ unfold in a long cello melody, which is repeated with richer orchestrations, before leading into the vigorous musical depiction of ‘honour and arms’. - Chandos

To list the various distinctions awarded to the recordings that make up this sumptuous offering is almost impossible; suffice it to say that the entire series received the Grieg Award in 2007, the year of the hundredth anniversary of the death of the composer, as well as a very special commendation by the UK Grieg Society the same year.

During 2003-2006, as the individual discs were released, reviewers all over the world were heaping praise over the series – astoundingly enough, as this is repertoire that at least in part belong to some of the most well-represented on disc. But this did not seem to matter to the critics, who described the performance of the Piano Concerto as one that ‘will make you fall in love with the music all over again’ (American Record Guide) and that of the Holberg Suite ‘so compelling that it simply makes you forget about any other’ (Classics Today.com), deeming the Peer Gynt Suites to be ‘interpretations that rejuvenate even this almost hackneyed, overly familiar music, relieving it of all the ballast of performance history’ (klassik.com).

It was the freshness of the performances by Ole Kristian Ruud and the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra that struck most critics – freshness coupled with expertise: ‘Bergen musicians have lived with these scores since their creation and all the performances here have a relaxed, idiomatic naturalness in their virtuosity’ (Gramophone). A second point was the superior sound quality – the result of inspired and painstaking work by the BIS recording staff in combination with the splendid acoustics of the Grieg Hall in Bergen. ‘Sonically this production features demonstration quality both in stereo and SACD multi-channel formats’ wrote the reviewer of Classics Today.com; ‘a fabulous complete cycle, admirably served by the splendid recording technique’ was the verdict in Classica-Répertoire.

The third factor contributing to the warm reception was of course the music itself, the fascination and power exerted by the Piano Concerto and the complete Peer Gynt, the emotion projected in Bergliot and Den Bergtekne, the charm and freshness of the orchestral songs and Lyric Suite – in the words of one reviewer: ‘music that you'd have to be either deaf or dead not to love’. The complete traversal, generally considered a reference point in the Grieg discography, is now available in this stereo-only version at a very advantageous price. (8 CDs for the price of 3)

As a composer Sergei Prokofiev was so versatile that audiences never quite knew what to expect. As a strategy, this could misfire but with his first symphony he got things just right. He once described what he had wanted to achieve: ‘If Haydn had lived into this era he would have kept his own style while absorbing things from what was new in music. That’s the kind of symphony I wanted to write...’ The ‘Classical’ symphony has been a true classic since its first performance in 1918 and is one of the few genuinely witty pieces in the twentieth-century orchestral repertory. A few months after the performance, Prokofiev left Russia for the USA where he remained for some years before settling in Paris in 1923. It was here that he composed the Second Symphony, now with the aim to be as up-to-date as possible. The first audience in 1925 was more bewildered than enthusiastic, however, and Prokofiev himself came to have doubts, wondering whether in this symphony ‘made out of iron and steel’ he’d overdone the rough counterpoint and density of texture. He now returned to a project he had been working on for several years – the opera The Fiery Angel. In 1928, when he began to think that no opera house would take it up, Prokofiev decided to reuse the music and found that ‘the material unexpectedly packed itself up into a four-movement symphony’ – his Third, characterized by an overwhelming sense of anxiety and tension. The present disc is the fourth and last in a symphony cycle which has earned the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra and Andrew Litton critical acclaim worldwide.



REVIEW:

This disc represents one heck of a deal–86 minutes of first-class Prokofiev courtesy of BIS, Andrew Litton and the Bergen Philharmonic. The “Classical” Symphony receives a performance in which nothing–and I mean NOTHING–gets taken for granted. Litton adopts a leisurely tempo for the opening movement, allowing sufficient time for each delectable instrumental detail to register. The entire performance sounds like chamber music writ large. At this stage in his career, Litton’s conducting has become more heavily inflected, sometimes to the point of mannerism. You can hear this approach most clearly in the Gavotte, but never (in this case) to the point of excess–and the finale is probably the most pointed and characterful version currently available. If you think you know this music cold, think again. You’ve got to hear this.

The Second and Third Symphonies both belong to Prokofiev’s “gnarly” phase, but I think they’re much better than their reputation leads us to believe. At least in these performances, Litton uncovers a world of color and nuance, never mind an abundance of melody sometimes concealed beneath and within the music’s hard-edged exterior. The Second Symphony’s concluding variation movement, for example, contains an entire population of captivating vignettes, and each one springs vividly to life. Similarly, Litton and the Bergen players beautifully declog the dense textures in the Third Symphony’s outer movements while still leaving the music plenty of room to shock. This work, in particular, has been very lucky on disc in the digital era, with superb versions from Järvi, Chailly, and above all, Muti; but this newcomer certainly belongs in their company.

In sum these performances, engineered with warmth, clarity and impact, rank with best best; and having all three symphonies on a single disc makes this release something of a bargain as well–even at full price.

– ClassicsToday.com (10/10; David Hurwitz)

This year, we celebrate the thirty-year conducting career of Neeme Järvi with Chandos records, as well as the conductor’s own seventy-fifth birthday. Chandos marks the occasion with this two-disc set of highlights, featuring a varied selection of concert hall rarities and core classics, along with some popular showpieces and examples of Järvi’s championing of Estonian and American music. Gramophone said of his recently concluded Halvorsen series, “Järvis finds in the music a drama and pathos that might come as a revelation even to the composer.”

Celebrating the 130th anniversary of Sergei Prokofiev (1891 - 1953), the present box set brings together recordings of his seven symphonies made by Andrew Litton and the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra between 2012 and 2017. Released on separate discs, the series has received acclaim from international reviewers, variously highlighting the orchestra ('Bergen Philharmonic plays gorgeously... ', ClassicsToday. Com), the conductor ('It is clear that Litton has a deep understanding of Prokofiev's complex, protean style... ', MusicWeb-International) and the recordings themselves ('BIS's blockbuster sound... ', Fanfare). The symphonies appear with their original couplings, including the popular suites from the film score to Lieutenant Kijé and the ballet The Love for Three Oranges. As an added bonus, the set includes the team's very first recording for BIS: an innovative and highly praised version of Prokofiev's three suites from Romeo and Juliet, with the 20 movements reordered to follow the ballet score.

Excerpts of reviews from previously released volumes included in this set:

Prokofiev: Symphonies Nos. 1-3

In sum these performances, engineered with warmth, clarity and impact, rank with best; and having all three symphonies on a single disc makes this release something of a bargain as well–even at full price.

– ClassicsToday.com (10/10; David Hurwitz)

This is a perfect disc; absolutely everything goes right. The revised, enlarged version of the Fourth Symphony can sound bloated and too long for its material. This performance, by contrast, has passion, color, and drive aplenty. Especially in the outer movements, you’d never know that the leaner, meaner first version exists, and no praise can be higher than that.

The Seventh has always been, for me at least, a better work than many commentators allow. It contains, for example, one of Prokofiev’s best lyrical melodies in its first movement and finale. The waltz-like scherzo is wholly delightful, the slow third movement touching. Prokofiev often indulges a deliberate simplicity, and Litton takes him at his word, never for a moment lapsing into artifice or affectation.

The finale, which we get to hear twice complete, once with each of its endings, is particularly breezy and exhilarating. Through it all the Bergen Philharmonic plays gorgeously, and the SACD sonics are state-of-the-art. A wonderful release.

– ClassicsToday.com (10/10; David Hurwitz)

Named ‘2022 Composer of the Year’ by Musical America, Missy Mazzoli inhabits an exquisite and mysterious sound-world in which indie-rock sensibilities meet American minimalism, European modernism and classical traditions. The first woman ever to receive a commission from the Metropolitan Opera, she has also composed for prominent soloists, ensembles and orchestras around the world. Through her music, she reaches to the roots of tradition, inhabits and renovates older forms while using every resource at her command. Mazzoli, who says that she likes “to tell stories”, always imagines actors, singers and dancers grappling with a situation, even when she composes instrumental works. The album is bookended by two versions of the same work: loosely based on baroque idioms the violin concerto Dark with Excessive Bright is first heard with string orchestra accompaniment and then in a chamber version. The soloist is in both cases Peter Herresthal, who also performs Vespers for Violin, a piece for amplified violin and electronics using sampled organs, voices and strings, drenched in delay and distortion. Three orchestral works complete the programme: Sinfonia (for Orbiting Spheres), These Worlds in Us and Orpheus Undone in performances by the Arctic Philharmonic under Tim Weiss.

REVIEWS:

When Missy Mazzoli was just 10 years old, growing up in rural Pennsylvania, she confidently declared she was a composer, although she hadn’t written a single note. Her family thought it was a phase she would get through. Now 42, Mazzoli is among today’s busiest and most respected composers. She’s best known for her operas, such as the career-boosting Breaking the Waves, but a new album, titled Dark with Excessive Bright, is the first to showcase the young composer’s purely symphonic music.

[The] titular Dark with Excessive Bright [is] a lyrical violin concerto inspired by a very old double bass which sat in an Italian monastery for centuries and whose cracks were patched with pages from the Good Friday liturgy.

The concerto riffs on baroque formulas while recycling motifs in fresh disguises. Like a photographer, Mazzoli captures moments rich in texture and charged with expression. They are hard to describe, but you can see them in your ear. For example, after the orchestra slides up to a cadence, low strings pluck the beat, high strings twinkle with glitter, and in the middle, a melody wanders a solitary path. (As a fascinating bonus, the album includes a reduced version of the piece for solo violin and string quintet.)

...while this album is purely symphonic, drama abounds in the music. Mazzoli dedicates the piece These Worlds in Us to her father, a Vietnam vet. Sometimes the music swirls downward on sliding string figures while other passages prove that Mazzoli knows how to make an orchestra roar like a jet engine.

Coming of age in a DIY environment, and encouraged by outfits like the Bang on a Can collective of composer-performers, Mazzoli is at home using rock instruments and electronics in her music. On Vespers for Violin, played with ardor and agility by Peter Herresthal, Mazzoli sampled old organs, strings and voices, and waterlogged them in distortion.

Mazzoli likes to think of herself as primarily an opera composer. But with instrumental music as expressive and rigorously built as this – not to mention the dynamic performances here by the Bergen and Arctic Philharmonic Orchestras – we kindly ask that she not forget the command she holds over a symphony orchestra.

-- NPR Music

Nielsen’s epic Violin Concerto was premiered in Copenhagen in February 1912, by violinist Peder Møller. Nominally the work is set in two movements; both open with a slow section and move to a faster one. Whilst unusual, this could be seen as a more usual fast – slow – fast three movement form, but with an extensive slow introduction to the first movement. The music moves quickly from one idea to the next, and overall has a bold, playful and optimistic feel. In stark contrast, although written only a few years later, the fourth symphony is more cohesive and unified as a work.

Written against the background of the first world war, the work is a celebration of life itself. Just before the premier in 1916, Nielsen described it as: ‘Music is Life, and, like it, inextinguishable.’ Composed in the usual four movement form, each movement continues from the last without a break. The final movement features two sets of timpani battling each other across the orchestra. The recording was made in Bergen’s Grieghallen, in Surround Sound, and is available as a hybrid SACD and in Spatial Audio.

REVIEWS:

Nielsen's Violin Concerto couldn’t have a better advocate than James Ehnes: strong in his lyricism when he needs to be, alert to all dynamics and a sense of fantasy which is outstanding in the two cadenzas.

-- BBC Music Magazine

James Ehnes – that most elegant and unflashy of players – seems to relish all that is unexpected about the piece...Edward Gardner and the Bergen Philharmonic give it real backbone and play like its greatest champions.

-- Gramophone

In Nielsen's Fourth Symphony, Gardner succeeds handily. The orchestra plays outstandingly well for him in all departments and he keeps the symphony moving. This is appropriate because all the movements are connected. I found his slightly quicker tempo for the second movement convincing with the woodwinds as delectable as one would expect and the dynamics quieter than in some recordings.

-- MusicWeb International

Sibelius studied the violin in his youth, and actively entertained the prospect of a career as a professional violinist for much of his student life. After graduating from the Helsinki Music Institute, in 1890, he went to Vienna to continue his studies, and while there he even auditioned (unsuccessfully) for a place in the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. So, it comes as no surprise that the instrument plays an important place in his compositional output. What might be surprising is that he wrote only one concerto – this might perhaps be due to the difficult conception of the work. The first performance received mixed reviews, and led to extensive revision of the score. It was only when Jascha Heifetz in the 1930s started to perform the concerto regularly that it gained its place in the standard repertoire. Although there was no second concerto, Sibelius’s numerous other works for violin and orchestra are no mere miniatures, as the recordings on this album amply demonstrate. The acclaimed international virtuoso James Ehnes is accompanied here by the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Edward Gardner.

Leif Ove Andsnes is a leading pianist of his time, known for his exceptional musicianship and subtil touch, his considerable technical flair being unfailingly put at the service of his interpretations. He was a pioneer for being the first home-trained superstar pianist to have emerged from Norway. This box is the story of a 20-year partnership that has yielded a rich seam of recorded treasures, first for Virgin and then for EMI. Running through this cornucopia of 34 albums (36 CDs), we find recurring themes: Grieg (Andsnes even recorded some Lyric Pieces on the composer's own piano at Troldhaugen), Nordic music in general, Schumann, Rachmaninov, Schubert.

Import Hybrid-SACD pressing.

Following acclaimed performances around the globe, John Relyea’s interpretation of Duke Bluebeard now appears on record, with Michelle DeYoung as Judit and Edward Gardner leading his Bergen forces with aplomb. John Relyea continues to distinguish himself as one of today's finest basses. Mr. Relyea has appeared in many of the world’s most celebrated opera houses including the Metropolitan Opera, San Francisco Opera (where he is an alumnus of the Merola Opera Program and a former Adler Fellow), Lyric Opera of Chicago, Seattle Opera, Canadian Opera Company, Royal Opera House Covent Garden, Paris Opera, Bayerische Staatsoper, Vienna State Opera, Theater an der Wien, and the Mariinsky Theater.

Job receives a performance of striking composure, luster, and palpable dedication. Not only do the Bergen Philharmonic respond with notable poise and eagerness (solo contributions are of the highest quality throughout), Davis conducts with unobtrusive authority as well as a sure hand on the structural tiller, uncovering a wealth of harmonic and textural detail along the way. The spectacular engineering handles everything with aplomb.

There's heaps to priase, too, in Davis's scrupulously observant and nobly unforced conception of the Ninth Symphony - and, once again what admirably vital and shapely playing he draws from the orchestra. This mightily impressive Ninth deserves a place at the top table alongside the 1969 Boult, Handley, and Haitink.

– Gramophone

This is the fourth and final volume of colourful and highly appealing orchestral works by the Norwegian composer Johan Halvorsen.

Based on the Passacaille (Chaconne) from the Harpsichord Suite No. 7 in G minor by Handel, Halvorsen’s Passacaglia is a virtuosic duo for solo violin and viola, later made world famous by artists such as Leopold Auer and Jascha Heifetz. It starts as a simple arrangement of Handel’s original score, but after the presentation of the theme and the first three variations it gradually differs more and more, until it finally frees itself entirely from the original and becomes pure ‘Halvorsen’.

Halvorsen wrote extensively for the stage, and his lifelong fascination with ‘exotic’ elements in music is evident in the ‘Dance Scene’ from the incidental music to Knut Hamsun’s Queen Tamara, a historical play set in the Caucasus. In contrast, the Symphonic Intermezzo from the music to Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson’s The King is presented in the form of a tone poem, its language strongly influenced by the musical universe of Liszt and Wagner.

Also on this disc is Halvorsen’s orchestration of Grieg’s piano piece Norwegian Bridal Procession. Other orchestral versions exist, among others by Frederick Delius, but in Grieg’s eyes only a native Norwegian could portray rural Norway in music without becoming too romantic or picturesque. Halvorsen’s lush, but non-idealising orchestration proved an immediate success, and at concerts and in the theatre over the next twenty-six years Halvorsen conducted the work at least 140 times.

He considered his Norwegian Fairy Tale Pictures to be one of his best works. The suite is vividly programmatic, drawn from music that he had written for a children’s comedy: violins portray the fairy tale hero, the flute plays the part of the abducted princess, while the villainous troll is represented by a motif in the bass.

TCHAIKOVSKY Swan Lake • Neeme Järvi, cond; James Ehnes (vn); Bergen PO • CHANDOS 5124(2) (2 SACDs: 154:41)

As has been noted in previous reviews of recordings of Tchaikovsky’s “complete” Swan Lake , there may well be as many different versions of the score as there have been productions of it. The problem is that Swan Lake is both the earliest (1875–1876) and the longest of the composer’s three great ballets, and it has had so many cooks adding their own ingredients, removing others, and generally revising the recipe that no one can say for sure what made up the original soufflé.

The generally known and accepted facts are these: The ballet, with original choreography by Julius Reisinger, was staged for the first time in February, 1877 by the Bolshoi Ballet at Moscow’s Bolshoi Theater. It was not well received; audience and critics alike felt it was too long and convoluted, its music too heavy, and its libretto, adapted from a story by a German author, an affront to Russian sensibilities. And thus began the tinkering and tampering. By the time the work was revived in 1895 by the Imperial Ballet at St. Petersburg’s Mariinsky Theater there was new choreography by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov, along with major musical revisions to the score by the Imperial Theater’s conductor and composer, Riccardo Drigo. It should be noted that by the time of the 1895 revival, Tchaikovsky was dead and had no hand in the new performing version. Tchaikovsky and Drigo had worked together previously, but according to accounts, they didn’t agree on much of anything and their relationship was strained.

The upshot of all this is that there is no definitive Swan Lake . It was no longer a ballet by one composer, but rather a group effort; and you know the saying about a camel being a horse designed by a committee. It’s important to bear this in mind when considering the various recordings of Swan Lake that claim to be complete, for the drastic differences in timings cannot be explained by mere tempo differences alone. There have to be other factors involved, such as omission of some movements, cuts to others, and/or reliance on differing versions/editions. Let’s look at the timings of several well-known recordings, sorted in order by duration.

Conductor	Orchestra	Label	Timing
Valery Gergiev	St. Petersburg Mariinsky O	Decca	106.59
Antál Dorati	Minneapolis SO	Mercury	131:41
Felix Slatkin	St. Louis SO	RCA	141:00
Mikhail Pletnev	Russian National O	Ondine	142.52
Dmitri Yablonsky	Russian State SO	Naxos	148:38
Michael Tilson Thomas	London SO	Sony	149:05
Mark Ermler	Royal Opera House O	Conifer	153.03
André Previn	London SO	EMI	153:02
Charles Dutoit	Montréal SO	Decca	153:56
Neeme Järvi	Bergen PO	Chandos	154:41
Wolfgang Sawallisch	Philadelphia O	EMI	158:45

Right off the bat, I need to offer a disclaimer: My personal familiarity with the above-listed recordings is limited to only four of them—Gergiev, Pletnev, Yablonsky, and now this new one by Järvi. Of the four, Gergiev’s version is the worst in terms of the hatchet job it does on the score. Movements are reordered—for example, the act I Waltz has been moved to act III and its ending abridged—and it’s full of egregious cuts—some 40 minutes of music are sacrificed. Gergiev’s Swan Lake is presumptively based on the Mariinsky performing version; i.e., the above-mentioned Drigo edition prepared for the 1895 St. Petersburg revival.

Looking at Pletnev’s timing of 142:52 vs. Yablonsky’s 148:58 and Järvi’s 154:41, it seems pretty obvious that that while tempo differences over the course of two and a half hours could account for the difference of approximately six minutes between Pletnev and Yablonsky and, in turn, between Yablonsky and Järvi, they’re unlikely to be the cause of the approximately 12-minute difference between Pletnev and Järvi.

Upon closer examination of all three recordings, what I found was that Yablonsky and Järvi both include two often dropped numbers from act III, the Pas de deux that was written after the fact specifically for Anna Sobeshchanskaya, and the “Danse Russe,” added specifically for Pelageya Karpakova. Pletnev omits these two additions, as do a number of others. Whether they should be included or not is a rather complex question.

Ballerinas of the day were not much different from their opera diva counterparts in terms of their egos. They had no shame when it came to demanding custom cadenzas to show off their voices or, in the case of danseuses, their fancy footwork and frilly tutus. The story surrounding Sobeshchanskaya and her Pas de deux is especially messy and borders on scandal. Originally picked to dance the lead role of Odette (the Swan) for the 1877 premiere, Sobeshchanskaya was ignominiously dropped from the cast at the last minute when a high-placed government official with whom she’d had a dalliance accused her of having taken expensive jewelry from him and then pawned it when she married a fellow danseur. On the spur of the moment, she was replaced by Pelageya Karpakova. Sobeshchanskaya survived the indignity and went on to dance the title role when the ballet was staged again a month later with no greater success than at its premiere.

But the intrigue didn’t end there. The ballerina made no bones about the fact that she hated both the choreography and the music, and so off she went to St. Petersburg, where she engaged Petipa to choreograph a new Pas de deux for her that would replace the third act’s Grand pas. Petipa complied and choreographed the new number to music, not by Tchaikovsky, but by Ludwig Minkus, the Imperial Ballet’s composer in residence.

When news of this change reached Tchaikovsky, he was miffed; his ego was probably bigger than Sobeshchanskaya’s. How dare she?! He was the composer, and he alone should take credit (or discredit) for the music. After some smoothing of his ruffled feathers, Tchaikovsky agreed to compose the music himself for Petipa’s new Pas de deux , but there was a problem. Tchaikovsky’s new music didn’t synch up with Petipa’s choreography, and Sobeshchanskaya, now back in Moscow, wasn’t about to travel back to St. Petersburg to go through the whole exercise again. She didn’t seem to care much one way or the other about the music, but she was adamant about keeping Petipa’s choreographed number. How exactly Tchaikovsky was prevailed upon to discard his newly composed music and essentially start over, this time following the outlines and rhythmic steps of Minkus’s music is not explained, but that’s what Tchaikovsky did. So, this particular episode apparently had a satisfactory ending for all involved, except, I suspect, for Minkus who surely must have felt put out. The original Grand pas with music by Tchaikovsky was replaced by Sobeshchanskaya’s Pas de deux with music first by Minkus and then by Tchaikovsky.

Based on the foregoing, it would seem that there is every reason to include this number in complete performances of the ballet, yet many conductors, Pletnev among them, don’t. The situation regarding the “Danse Russe” (Russian Dance) is much simpler and appears to be the reverse; it’s one of deletion rather than addition. It was composed for and included in the original 1877 version of the score danced by Karpakova, the premiere’s last-minute substitute for Sobeshchanskaya. The number was then removed for subsequent performances in which Sobeshchanskaya took over the role, for reasons one can easily guess. If two competing sopranos could bitch-slap each other on stage during a production of a Handel opera, there was no telling what professional jealousy might provoke between two rival ballerinas.

This describes only some of the butchery that turned Tchaikovsky’s finely feathered swan into a plucked chicken. It’s well to remember, however, that Swan Lake was not only the composer’s first completed ballet, it was really his first major stage undertaking to survive the ravages of time, even if not entirely intact. He was working on his opera Eugene Onegin at the same time, his first opera to achieve success; and though there had been earlier operatic efforts— The Voyevoda, Undina, The Oprichnik , and Vakula the Smith —they were either destroyed by the composer, recycled, later revised, or didn’t stir much interest at the time. Thus, at 37, Tchaikovsky’s greatest works still lay ahead of him, and he had yet to achieve the self-confidence that fame would bring him to be able to just say no to those who would mess with his music.

Neeme Järvi’s Swan Lake follows his Sleeping Beauty , reviewed in 36:5. I would expect to see a Nutcracker in the near future, perhaps timed to coincide with Christmas (I’m writing this in November 2013). My only objection to Järvi’s Sleeping Beauty was his somewhat business-like approach, which struck me as missing some of the music’s fairy magic. But the Bergen Philharmonic’s polished playing, James Ehnes’s ravishing violin solos, and Chandos’s thrilling multi-channel SACD recording offered much allure.

On relistening to that release, and in listening to this present one, in which Järvi, Ehnes, the Bergen orchestra, and Chandos repeat their earlier accomplishment, it occurred to me that my criticism of Järvi wasn’t entirely fair. There are two ways to conduct a ballet performance for a strictly audio recording. You can approach it as a concert work, in which case you will tend to emphasize the melodic, harmonic, and structural elements of the score, or you can approach it as a suite of dances, in which case you will emphasize the music’s rhythmic and terpsichorean aspects. Järvi falls into the former camp, and there’s nothing wrong in that, as long as he’s not directing a live production of the actual ballet, in which tempo, pacing, and phrasing need to be molded more flexibly to accommodate the movements of the dancers.

I can’t say absolutely that this is the most authoritatively complete Swan Lake on record, though in taking up the original 1877 score and including additional material supplied by Tchaikovsky himself for subsequent performances, Järvi gives us a version that’s certainly more complete than are a number of others. What I can say is that of the four recordings of the score with which I’m familiar, Järvi’s would now be my first choice, and taking all other factors into account—superb playing by the Bergen Philharmonic, James Ehnes’s beguiling solo violin contributions, and a killer recording—I’d extrapolate from this that Järvi’s Swan Lake is now the one to have.

FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

SVENDSEN Norwegian Artists’ Carnival, Op. 14. Violin Concerto in A, Op. 61. Two Icelandic Melodies. Symphony No. 1 in D, Op. 4 • Neeme Järvi, cond; 1Marianne Thorsen (vn); Bergen PO • CHANDOS 10766 (74:10)

This is Volume 3 in a series of discs devoted to the orchestral works of a composer who, it’s believed, composed no more than 33 works with opus numbers, of which approximately 21 are orchestral scores, if you count the cantatas for chorus and orchestra. If you don’t count them, then the four works included on this latest installment, added to the 10 included on Volume 1 (see Fanfare 35:5), plus the four included on Volume 2 (Fanfare 36:4), should wrap up this survey, but with Neeme Järvi you never know.

The famous anecdote of the volatile relationship between Svendsen and his American wife ending with her tossing her husband’s manuscript of a Third Symphony into the fire is probably fictional, but it makes for colorful reading. Sketches, however, for what was probably on its way to becoming another symphony were expanded and orchestrated by Norwegian composer Bjørn Morten Christophersen and premiered by the Bergen Philharmonic as recently as 2011. Perhaps in a follow-up album, Järvi will give us Christophersen’s speculative score.

Meanwhile, what we have on the present disc are Svendsen’s First Symphony and a very ambitious Violin Concerto, plus the shorter programmatic pieces, Norwegian Artist’s Carnival and Two Icelandic Melodies. Svendsen is what I would characterize as a Scandinavian generalist. Like his close contemporaries, Grieg and Danish composer C. F. E. Horneman, Svendsen was yet another product of the Leipzig Conservatory, studying violin with Ferdinand David (of Mendelssohn Violin Concerto fame) and composition with Carl Reinecke. But Svendsen’s works that bear national or folkloristic titles, like Norwegian Artist’s Carnival, don’t sound Norwegian the way Grieg’s music does. In fact, in both style and content, there’s little difference between the boisterous, celebratory, dance-like character of the symphony and the Carnival; and listening to the Two Icelandic Melodies, I’m not sure you would know if you were in Iceland or Finland—there’s a hint of Sibelius in the air.

The violin concerto betrays Svendsen’s training as a violinist under David in many places, but it’s not likely to find a niche among the great romantic concertos, firstly because it’s not really much of a virtuoso vehicle, and secondly, because the composer was so symphonically oriented in his approach that, as pointed out by the above Christopherson, who authored the album note, the work is more of a symphony with violin obbligato than it is a concerto, modeled along the lines of Berlioz’s Harold in Italy. It has, however, been recorded before, not that terribly long ago by Lars Bjørnkjær for Danacord, reviewed in 31:6, a disc I’m afraid I don’t have, but also by Arve Tellefsen with the Oslo Philharmonic on a 1990s Norsk Kulturrads Forlag (NKF) CD, which I do have. Though Tellefsen is every bit Marianne Thorsen’s match on the current Chandos release, unfortunately the NKF recording is a bit dull and recessed sounding.

With the exception of the Romance for Violin and Orchestra, the one work which has probably kept Svendsen from slipping below the horizon with the late-setting summer Scandinavian sun, all of the works on this third volume of his orchestral output are pleasant and attractive, and in the capable hands of Neeme Järvi, the Bergen Philharmonic, violinist Marianne Thorsen, and Chandos’s engineers, beautifully played and recorded; but—ah, the inevitable “but”—the musical nourishment Svendsen affords is probably not life-sustaining. Still, if you’re an obsessive collector, as I suspect many of Fanfare’s readers are, and you acquired Volumes 1 and 2 of this Svendsen survey, this third is obligatory.

FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Johan Halvorsen spent most of his career writing for the theater, which is probably why his music sounds so effortless, colorful, and well, efficient. This isn't meant to be disparaging. Rather, all of these pieces get right to the point, and none outstays its welcome, not even the Second Symphony, which clocks in at a bit under half an hour. It's conservative, harmonically and formally, but the music really works--it's a pleasure from beginning to end, and wholly convincing. This performance also is the first to correct the zillion errors in the printed score that have gone a long way to preventing the work from entering the repertoire, where it surely belongs.

The other pieces are all, in one way or another, ostensibly Norwegian in sound in a manner quite similar to Grieg. Again, there's nothing wrong with that. What sane person dislikes Grieg? The Suite ancienne, to the memory of Holberg, has every bit as much charm and freshness as Grieg's Holberg Suite, while the other three pieces all feature solo violin. Marianne Thorsen plays splendidly, while Neeme Järvi leads his Bergen forces in performances that are graceful, vibrant, and in the Suite and the Symphony, the last word in impetuosity and excitement. With terrific sound, if you don't know this music, you're missing something special.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Berio had an abiding fascination with reconciling the past and the present, which can be seen in his orchestral realisations of works by Mahler and Brahms, and most notably, in Rendering (1990), his typically creative completion of unfinished symphonic sketches by Schubert. In Rendering, Berio - in his own words - sets himself the target of 'following those modern restoration criteria that aim at reviving the old colours without, however, trying to disguise the damage that time has caused, often leaving inevitable empty patches in the composition'. In the 'restoration', Schubert's sketches have been beautifully orchestrated in period style, and the 'empty patches' have been filled with music composed by Berio himself, in his own voice - thereby successfully combining the musical worlds of the early nineteenth and late twentieth centuries into one convincing whole. The Clarinet Sonata by Brahms embodies the composer's taut and concentrated compositional style. In transcribing the work, Berio felt that, when experienced in the less intimate surroundings of today's concert halls, the extreme compression of Brahms's late chamber music style was in need of some additional support, and his version, recorded here, includes a fourteen-bar orchestral introduction to the first movement, leading into Brahms's own, much shorter opening phrase, as well as five additional bars at the beginning of the second movement. Berio completed his orchestration of six early songs by Gustav Mahler in 1987, and conducted the first performance with the Toscanini Orchestra on 7 December that year,with Thomas Hampson the baritone soloist. The six songs in this orchestrated set are 'Hans und Grete', 'Phantasie', 'Scheiden und Meiden', 'Erinnerung', 'Frühlingsmorgen', and 'Ich ging mit Lust durch einen grünen Wald'. The Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra is conducted by Edward Gardner, with Roderick Williams the baritone soloist in the songs by Mahler and Michael Collins the soloist in Brahms's Clarinet Sonata.

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

Norway is a gorgeous country, and it’s no surprise that Delius found much of his inspiration there. The pieces on this intelligently planned program run from 1889-1917, and are programmed in roughly chronological order. They range from the charming orchestration of good friend Edvard Grieg’s Norwegian Bridal Procession to Delius’ first major works for orchestra (Paa Vidderne) and for the theatre (the incidental music to Folkeraadet), taking in a couple of orchestral songs along the way.

Paa Vidderne (On the Mountains) is a tone poem obviously of the Wagner/Liszt school, with plenty of hefty brass scoring and way too many cymbal crashes. It does not sound particularly Delian, but curiously the earlier Sleigh Ride’s calm central section clearly foreshadows the composer to come. Few listeners are probably aware that On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring is based on a Norwegian theme, but there it is, while Eventyr, which concludes the program, is a masterpiece of mood and turbulent atmosphere, sort of Delius’ answer to Sibelius’ En Saga.

This is one of those programs in which the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. The selections are nicely varied. Ann-Helen Moen sings the two songs quite beautifully, and Andrew Davis, who recorded some very nice Delius for Teldec back in the day, knows his way around the music. It’s also good to hear non-British orchestras taking on this repertoire. Certainly the Bergen Philharmonic sounds just fine, although curiously, in Eventyr, the second of the two shouts (literally: the plays have to shout) is quite untidy. Not important, though, especially with fine sonics and a very generous nearly eighty minutes of playing time. A very enjoyable and interesting disc.

- ClassicsToday

"If you want to show people how fine a conductor in the old style Litton is, this version of The Isle of the Dead will do nicely, since it offers little to distract by way of surface brilliance. There’s an attention to structure, a matter not only of the tone poem’s all-important dynamic arch, but of carefully teasing out thematic cross-references in the orchestral texture. Inner lines are clarified, but not at the expense of vitality, momentum, or expressive power. As much can be said of this version of The Rock. It is in some respects a study for The Isle of the Dead, and Litton turns in a performance every bit as detailed and authoritative."

-- Barry Brenesal, Fanfare

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

Throughout his 82-year life, Max Bruch remained true to the musical ideals of his youth, formed by Schubert, Mendelssohn, Schumann and German folk songs. As a result, the same composer who in the 1880’s was regarded as Brahms’ equal, by the time of his death in 1920 was considered an anachronistic irrelevance. Nowadays, however, few would deny that his production includes numerous works of exquisite sonority, beautiful melodiousness and admirable formal cohesion: a glorious irrelevance indeed. His Violin Concerto No. 1 was a spectacular success from its first performance in 1868, and soon won over audiences both in Germany and abroad. In fact, it became so popular that Bruch in later years became increasingly worried about being considered a ‘one-hit wonder’. It is thus a staple of all violin soloists that Vadim Gluzman here takes on, after his recordings of the concertos by Tchaikovsky (‘without doubt one of the work's finest recordings in recent years’, BBC Music Magazine), Barber (‘one of the most beautiful and characterful recordings of this work’, klassik-heute.de) and Korngold (‘Gluzman’s playing lends the work a new vitality and cohesion’, Classica). Supported by the eminent Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra and its music director Andrew Litton, Gluzman couples the work with a rarity, a violin version of the Romance in F major, Op.85, composed by Bruch for viola and orchestra almost 35 years after the violin concerto. The composer also made an arrangement for violin and piano, and it is this violin part which Gluzman performs to the original orchestral score. Closing the programme is the String Quintet in A minor in which Gluzman is joined by four eminent string players: Sandis Šteinbergs, Maxim Rysanov, Ilze Klava and Reinis Birznieks. Composed in 1918, the Quintet certainly offers no indication of being the exact contemporary of modernist works such as Stravinsky’s Histoire d’un soldat; on the other hand its almost youthful energy, dramatic instinct and playful exuberance equally belies the fact that it was composed by a man in his eightieth year.

Premièred in January 1945, Sergei Prokofiev’s optimistic and heroic Fifth Symphony had seemed to herald the victorious end of World War Two. In stark contrast to this, his Symphony No.6, which received its first performance in 1947, is one of his deepest and most personal works. Although it was greeted with enthusiasm by the audience, the Soviet authorities were critical of the work and in 1948 a Party resolution singled it out as ‘abnormal’ and ‘repellent’. In fact, the first ideas for the symphony preceded those for the Fifth, and date from a period when the issue of the war was still uncertain. Early in 1945 the composer had suffered a collapse, from which he never completely recovered and which forced him to live the life of an invalid with almost constant headaches. In regard to the work, Prokofiev himself stated: ‘Now we are rejoicing in our great victory, but each of us has wounds that cannot be healed.’ This haunted symphony is here coupled with two works which illustrate a very different side of the composer, his gift for creating vivid musical images that can sum up a scene in a few bold strokes. These are the ever-popular suites from The Love for Three Oranges, the tragic-comical opera from 1921, and from the film score to Lieutenant Kijé, a light-hearted satire from 1934. The original film score included two songs, which form the second and fourth movements of the concert suite. Often performed in a version for solo saxophone and orchestra, these are heard in this recording in their original vocal form, performed by the Ukranian baritone Andrei Bondarenko. With acclaimed previous recordings of music by Prokofiev, as well as by Stravinsky and Rachmaninov, Andrew Litton and his Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra are a tried-and-tested team in this repertoire, and once again make the most of the enormous palette of colours and moods provided by these three scores.

I discovered with Sakari Oramo’s Nielsen symphonies that writing off an entire cycle based on just one instalment is very unwise. To ensure I don’t do that again I’ve elected to review Andrew Litton’s Prokofiev Fifth, even though I found his Sixth rather disappointing. The Bergen Phil are a fine band, as their work with Andrew Davis, Edward Gardner and Juanjo Mena so amply demonstrates; not only that, Chandos and Hyperion seem to get better results in the Grieg Hall than BIS have managed thus far.

Then there’s the stiff competition; Neeme Järvi’s much-celebrated cycle for Chandos springs to mind, as does Dmitri Kitaienko’s for Phoenix Edition. Sakari Oramo’s Ondine Fifth and Sixth mustn’t be overlooked either. All offer very different views of the Fifth, Prokofiev’s great wartime symphony, and that in itself suggests the work responds well to opposing interpretations. Oramo’s is a case in point, for he taps into a vein of lyricism that others don’t always find. He also has a very transparent recording that exposes much of the score’s inner workings.

The Järvi Fifth dates from the conductor’s halcyon days with the RSNO – then the Scottish National Orchestra – which yielded particularly memorable recordings of Richard Strauss, Shostakovich and Prokofiev. Revisiting his Prokofiev Fifth after a long break I discovered the performance has all the spunk and spike that I remember, although the treble is fiercer and the big moments are rougher than I recall. I have no such qualms about his Scythian Suite – coupled with a white-hot Alexander Nevsky – which is my benchmark for the piece.

Litton’s Andante is powerful enough, but alongside Järvi and Kitaienko it takes a little while to limber up. Admittedly, this is the kind of music that lends itself to large, gruff gestures, but as Oramo’s forensic reading confirms there’s more to this score than that. For sheer excitement, though, Järvi is hard to beat; as for Kitaienko he plays the music with a a bold, deep-rooted conviction that’s impressive too. Litton isn’t quite so overt, so visceral, but I soon came to realise that's no bad thing. The recording is exceptionally vivid, although there's an occasional hardness in the treble.

Moving on, Litton’s perky Allegro marcato is nicely phrased, and he captures the score’s veers and vacillations very well indeed. Now this is more like it. The Bergen Phil are well up to the challenge and the BIS balances are much more believable than Phoenix's; while that certainly helps to soften the music’s sharpest edges it doesn't undermine the thrust and energy of Litton's reading. Oramo’s version is the most pliant and personal one here, but some may feel that robs the music of its pith and piquancy. As for Järvi he's as taut and compelling as ever in this movement, a reminder of just how good a team he and the RSNO once were.

The yearning Adagio with its inner musings and gentle tread finds Litton at his most thoughtful and communicative. There’s a pleasing lucidity and openness here that's most welcome. In short, this is a very persuasive account of this lovely, multi-faceted movement. Built on a smaller, more intimate scale Oramo’s Adagio is the most lyrical and colourful; the Ondine recording has a very strong stereo spread, and it’s closer to BIS's in terms of subtlety and tonal sophistication. Unfortunately Oramo allows the pace to flag, which is a shame as I like what he’s trying to do. Both are commendably refined, and that makes for more congenial performances than either Järvi's or Kitaienko's; frankly, the latter have a raw edge and restless angularity that can be a tad unremitting at times.

In that rather forceful context Litton’s frisky Allegro giocoso may seem rather reticent, although it’s actually alert and keenly paced. Not only that, there's a joy, a sparkle, to this music that brisker and more declamatory performances tend to miss. I'm also extremely imprssed by the recorded sound, which really brings out the score's muances and competing timbres. Here and in the symphony as a whole Litton is nearer to the affectionate and reflective Oramo than he is to the volatile Kitaienko/Järvi. I can live with both extremes, but it's a relief - and a pleasure - to hear Prokofiev performances that don't sound like they're being forged on a factory floor.

The Scythian Suite gets a typically febrile outing, with thumping bass and glittering treble. Järvi may have the rhythmic edge, not to mention the most spectacular recording, but Litton’s no slouch either. As with the symphony he combines slam with subtlety, and there's a mervellous sense of a tale being told. He’s aided and abetted by wide-ranging sonics and an orchestra that's in tip-top condition. Indeed, this strikes me as the very best of BIS’s Grieg Hall productions to date, and that augurs well for the rest of Litton’s Prokofiev cycle.

Despite some initial reservations I’m delighted to welcome this addition to the Prokofiev discography. These are performances that grow in stature with each hearing; in fact, not only is Litton's Scythian Suite every bit as thrilling as Järvi's, it's also the more illuminating - the most interesting - of the two.

A terrific pairing, very well played and recorded; here’s to the next instalment.

– MusicWeb International

The programme on this first disc in the cycle includes both old favourites - the piano concerto - and less known works. (The Symphony was actually left unperformed for more than 100 years, from 1867 to 1980). Recorded with the new DSD (Direct Stream Digital) technology, these interpretations are available on SACD and in Surround Sound - a first for this the most recorded (?) of piano concertos. The presence of the piano and the weight of the orchestra as well as the sense of spaciousness are truly extraordinary. One gains entirely new insights into just how the piano soloist - Noriko Ogawa - sculpts those famous melodies; and just how dazzlingly spectacular her finger work is in the rapid runs!

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

These are superb performances of two underestimated concertos… [T]his is unquestionably an engaging account, Sudbin's glistening and expressive virtuosity matched by Andrew Litton and the Bergen Philharmonic's idiomatic playing… Even more revelatory is their performance of Medtner's Third… [Sudbin] seems alert to its every note and creates a compelling journey.

– BBC Music Magazine

Yevgeny Sudbin has already demonstrated his great affinity with the music of the composers united here: in 2007, his Scriabin solo recital (BIS-1568) garnered universal acclaim – ‘the most well-chosen, brilliantly played single-disc selection of Scriabin's piano music currently available’ wrote ClassicsToday.com – and his recordings of Nikolai Medtner’s first and second piano concertos (BIS-1588 and BIS-1728) were likewise widely admired, with the first disc receiving a Gramophone Award nomination and the second being dubbed an ‘Essential Recording’ in BBC Music Magazine. For the present disc, Sudbin has written his own liner notes, stating with conviction his opinion that both concertos are ‘absolute masterworks – unjustly underperformed and constantly underappreciated’. He goes on to make a fascinating comparison of the two ‘radically different’ works, composed by near contemporaries, but 45 years apart: Scriabin wrote his one piano concerto in 1896 at the age of 24, while Medtner began his Third Concerto in 1940, at a ripe 60. As Sudbin points out, it would be natural to expect the later concerto to be more ‘modern’, especially given the radical advances that took place during this period. Nothing could be further from the truth, however: ever the visionary, the young Scriabin wrote a concerto which may appear relatively conventional compared to his later works, but still sounds more experimental than Medtner’s Third. With great empathy for, and insights into each composer, Yevgeny Sudbin takes on the great challenges – musical as well as technical – posed by their two works, with the eminent support of the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra, which under chief conductor Andrew Litton has repeatedly proven itself in Russian repertoire by Rachmaninov, Prokofiev and Stravinsky.