The expressive immediacy of Aram Khachaturian's music, with its sensuous melodic writing, vibrant orchestration and rhythmic drive, resulted in a popularity equaled by few composers of his generation. Composed in 1936, the Piano Concerto was the work that established Khachaturian’s name. Cast in the customary three movements, it is scored for a sizable orchestra, with notable contributions from both side-drum and military drum in the percussion section. In the second movement there is also an extensive solo for a so-called ‘flexatone’; it is often put forward that Khachaturian in fact intended the part to be played on the musical saw, as it is on the present recording. Thirty years after the Concerto, the composer returned to the genre with his Concerto-Rhapsody for piano and orchestra. This time the score offers prominent roles for the xylophone, marimba and vibraphone, which contribute towards making this one of the composer’s most colorful works. The demanding solo parts are here performed by the young Jordanian-Palestinian pianist Iyad Sughayer, with spirited support from the BBC National Orchestra of Wales under Andrew Litton. Sughayer made his acclaimed début as a recording artist with an album of Khachaturian's piano works and sandwiched between the two works with orchestra he here presents the piano version of one of the composer's best loved pieces, the Masquerade Suite with its yearning opening Waltz and closing Galop.

Concertos for cor anglais are few and far between, and harp concertos aren’t very common either. In combining the two, Kalevi Aho has come up with a true rarity – possibly the only double concerto in existence for these two instruments. Composed in 2014, the work was commissioned by the Antwerp Symphony Orchestra for two of its solo players: Anneleen Lenaerts and Dimitri Mestdag, who also perform it here. The work is characteristically eclectic, making the most of the sonic possibilities of the solo instruments, but also of the orchestral palette. The Antwerp Symphony Orchestra is no newcomer to Aho’s music, having previously recorded his concertos for trombone and trumpet. On the present disc, it also provides support for the Storioni Trio, in the Triple Concerto for violin, cello, piano and chamber orchestra, a joint commission by the trio and the orchestra. In 2017, as Aho started work on the concerto, his granddaughter was born. Having written a lullaby for her, he decided to use that as the core melodic material of the piece. The lullaby is heard several times in the first movement, which is quite tonal and very dreamlike. It also features in the movements that follow, while the harmonic language becomes more complex. Aho himself describes the work as having ‘a general atmosphere full of joy and positive (sometimes quite virtuosic) energy.’

REVIEW:

The Finnish composer Kalevi Aho is amazingly prolific. Not only are there, so far, seventeen symphonies and five operas, but also no fewer than thirty-seven concertos. Here we have two of them.

The Double Concerto for cor anglais and harp begins very quietly, so quietly in fact that at first I thought there was something wrong with my player while sounds like background noises started emerging. However, the two solo instruments do enter and gradually the work gathers definition and then rhythmic bite. There is a cadenza for the two instruments before the music subsides. This first movement is as long as the remaining three together. The second movement is a short cadenza for the harp alone, a most attractive passage, which leads into a brisk and exciting allegro. The finale is again short and quiet and we return to something like the mood of the beginning.

The Triple Concerto for violin, cello and piano is a more traditional combination, and the listener will at once think of Beethoven’s concerto for the same combination. Aho is obviously aware of this and does something quite different. For a start he uses a chamber orchestra, with strings and just two wind instruments. He rarely employs his soloists as a group together, but writes more in the concerto grosso kind of idiom, with a good deal of interplay between the soloists and the orchestra. If this sounds rather like Martinů, this is deliberate, and I was several times reminded of the Czech master in hearing this work. It is based on a lullaby he wrote for his granddaughter Matilda, which used the musical letters in her name. This comes several times in the dreamy and atmospheric first movement. This is followed by an energetic Presto, then another mysterious slow movement and a finale which starts slowly but soon speeds up.

The performers here are a mainly Belgian team, and they were all involved in the premieres apart from the conductor, who on those occasions was Martyn Brabbins, who has had quite a close association with Aho’s music. For whatever reason, he is not the conductor here, and that role is taken by the Estonian Olari Elts. He does a good job and secures confident performances. The sleevenote, in four languages is helpful. This is a SACD but I was listening in ordinary two channel stereo, in which the sound was immaculate. BIS has been supporting Aho for a long time and this latest issue is a worthy addition to their series. Aho’s fans need not hesitate, and those curious about trying this composer could well dip a toe in here.

-- MusicWeb International (Stephen Barber)

Classical Music

A brief glance at the list of contents is enough to reveal who the singer is – only Anne Sofie von Otter could have come up with a programme as varied and wide-ranging. And only von Otter could hold it together seamlessly by finding the resonances between these very different pieces, and bringing them out with a rare ability of embracing different singing styles and expressive registers: to paraphrase Bernstein in his A Simple Song, Anne Sofie von Otter never fails to ‘sing like she likes to sing’. From Liszt to Pärt and from Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony to Richard Rodgers’ Sound of Music, von Otter is supported by her long-time accompanist Bengt Forsberg, here at the organ instead of his usual piano. At various points in the programme they are joined by a number of musical friends, in the organ loft of St James’s Church in central Stockholm – the very church where the young von Otter began her singing career as a chorister and, together with Forsberg, gave one of her very first public concerts.

-----

REVIEW:

A Simple Song’ is a thoughtful, even challenging recital, given extra colour by the fact that Forsberg, her longtime song partner, here swaps his piano for the organ of the Stockholm church where the young von Otter started singing as a teen. This is a delightful, surprising and thought-provoking programme – difficult to classify, perhaps, but very easy to enjoy.

– Gramophone

Given Sibelius’s reputation as one of the great symphonists of the last century, contemporary Finnish composers may be forgiven for feeling a little overshadowed. Fortunately for the young Aho, Rautavaara’s advice and support proved decisive in shaping this symphony, which began life as a string quartet. The work is in four movements, the mysterious opening and ascending brass figures of the Andante strongly reminiscent of Shostakovich. Indeed, this is confirmed by the noted music publisher Fennica Gehrman, in a short article on the Finnish Musical Information Centre website.

There is no obvious programme here, but in his refreshingly unpretentious liner-notes – a welcome feature of this entire cycle – Aho does speak of ‘nightmares’ and ‘psychological crises’. Even without these pointers the Andante has a certain bleakness – desolation, even – although there’s none of the trenchancy one associates with Shostakovich in similar mood. That said the grim little waltz in the Allegretto could so easily be attributed to DSCH, not to mention the quiet but insistent tread in the lower strings.

By contrast the Presto kicks off with an arresting moto perpetuo that drives this fugue like a musical dynamo. This movement has some of the most individual writing so far. That said the shade of Shostakovich hovers nearby, the laconic waltz tune and a splintered remnant of the opening theme bringing the symphony to an enigmatic close.

The other works on this disc – Hiljaisuus (Silence) and the Violin Concerto – date from the early 1980s. According to Aho, Hiljaisuus, a Finnish Radio commission that was to last no more than five minutes, was intended as an introduction to the recently completed Violin Concerto. It’s a strange swirl of a piece, a mix of unsettling glissandos and unearthly sonorities. Sample the short passage at 4:02 and you may be forgiven for thinking you’re listening to Ligeti.

The Violin Concerto has more momentum and contrast than Hiljaisuus, although it shares the latter’s concentrated, more dissonant idiom. It isn’t the most grateful start to a violin concerto, the solo part – sensitively played by Manfred Gräsbeck – rather less prominent than one might expect. That said it would be difficult to hear it above the orchestral eruptions that punctuate the first movement. At 8:30 the soloist is given some insistent phrases that rise above muted timps, culminating in an equally restrained close.

The repeated phrases at the start of the second movement – marked Leggiero – lead into music that fluctuates between light and shade. The soloist has some rhapsodic passages all to himself before we plunge into the spectral waltz of the finale. La Valse this isn’t, but the wild, somewhat demonic element is certainly present. Gräsbeck phrases these tunes like a Mahlerian Ländler – listen to the passage beginning at 3:37 – before he is crushed by a massive orchestral climax worthy of Bartók in Miraculous Mandarin mode.

Whatever hints there may be of other sound worlds Aho has fashioned something altogether individual here, combining a range of ear-pricking sonorities with music of considerable punch and power. Nothing quite prepares one for the gentle, introspective close to this concerto which, as I have discovered, is something of an Aho trademark.

Despite its obvious influences the symphony is remarkably assured for a student work. It’s economically scored, light on its feet and direct in its appeal, the chamber-like qualities much enhanced by the airy recording. The concerto is more roughly hewn; it’s a protracted tussle between soloist and orchestra, yet it has real presence and power. All credit to the Lahti Symphony Orchestra – just 40 years old when this recording was made – who play these scores with commitment and care. An excellent entrée to Aho’s distinctive sound world.

-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International

For its final concert of the 2021–22 season and Osmo Vänskä’s last as artistic director, the Minnesota Orchestra chose to present Mahler’s mammoth Eighth Symphony, which calls for one of the largest complement of performers in the history of music, a symbol of the communitarian spirit of collective cultural, social, and religious-philosophical endeavor in what has been referred to as a ‘Mass for the Masses’.

Mahler’s Eighth Symphony, unlike his others, reveals no contrary despairing voice. It is instead a monumentally affirmative expression of human spiritual achievement achieved through the union of two seemingly incompatible texts: the Latin hymn Veni Creator Spiritus and the conclusion of the second part of Goethe’s Faust. Its première in Munich in September 1910 gave rise to the greatest triumph of Mahler’s career, and a rollcall of European royalty and the artistic élite attended the final public rehearsal and the performances.

The Minnesota Orchestra and Osmo Vänskä are here joined by Carolyn Sampson, Jacquelyn Wagner, Sasha Cooke, Jess Dandy, Barry Banks, Julian Orlishausen, Christian Immler as well as the Minnesota Chorale, the National Lutheran Choir, the Minnesota Boychoir and the Angelica Cantanti Youth Choir.

Classical Music

REVIEWS:
Fanfare (5-6/98, p.173) - "The Swede Gösta Nystroem (1890-1966) is one of those undemonstrative composers whose quiet sobriety might lead the inattentive to pass him by unwittingly. But in his understated way Nystroem is a master, and BIS's ongoing series of recordings with Paavo Järvi in Malmö is something that deserves enthusiastic support..."
BBC Music (3/98, p.59) - Performance: 4 (out of 5), Sound: 5 (out of 5) - "...the Malmö Symphony Orchestra reveals its greatest strength in a richness of string tone....Paavo Järvi keep[s] tight control on the music's sometimes diffuse dramatic flow..."

Schubert’s Schwanengesang here contains an extra song, Herbst D945. That song was not published as part of the posthumous compilation that Haslinger brought out and called “Swan Song”, but is another Rellstab setting from Schubert’s last year, as are the first seven songs of the original publication. Herbst was lost at that stage, as the only copy was written into a friend’s autograph album, and not rediscovered until the end of the 19th century. It might even have been a try-out for Aufenthalt which sits fifth in the published sequence, and which it resembles. Herbst follows that song on this disc, since as the baritone claims in the booklet “it is sometimes included in performance.” I don’t think it matters very much, but I have a slight preference for the cycle as it was first published. As Martin Chusid observes in his fine book on the cycle, “Whereas Herbst is a very good song, Aufenthalt is superb.”

That is not the only point of textual interest in this Schwanengesang. In preparing the work baritone James Rutherford and pianist Eugene Asti had to decide what keys to put these (originally high voice) songs in, and decided to put every song down a minor third, preserving the key relations at least. They even claim this might be the first time on disc this has been done (but one would need to listen to an awful lot of recordings to be quite sure). Of course this deepens and darkens the songs, which suits some more than others, the heavier songs like Der Atlas and Die Stadt tending to sound very imposing in these keys. And although BIS describe Rutherford as a baritone, he sounds more of a bass-baritone here. But then he has sung Hans Sachs at Bayreuth and Vienna, and the cast list in my score of Die Meistersinger says simply “Hans Sachs – Bass”.

The opening song Liebesbotschaft lacks a certain tripping lightness, but the next one Kreigers Ahnung suits Rutherford’s very fine voice perfectly, and one notices his impeccable German diction from the start. The third song, Frühlingssehnsucht shows that his large voice can deploy a lighter manner, and he really relishes the text. Ständchen, is the best known of all these songs and benefits here from a restrained but still ardent treatment. Following Aufenthalt with Herbst feels slightly like viewing a sketch after the finished painting, but both songs are so well done it seems churlish to complain. With the long (six minutes), slow and anguished In der Ferne the low voice makes its mark, as does the pianist in Abschied, with just the right tempo - a canter, not a gallop, that allows the singer to articulate the text. The performance of the Heine songs in the second part are if anything even more successful than the Rellstab ones, reaching a powerful climax with the rising hysteria of Der Dopplegänger. A properly charming account of the last song Schubert ever wrote, Die Taubenpost, closes a very satisfying version of Schwanengesang.

The four extra songs filling the disc are all favourites, and all are well sung and played. The SACD sound is excellent, and the useful booklet notes are by the distinguished American Schubert scholar Susan Youens, no less. But of course Schwanengesang is the main thing, and there are many fine accounts to choose from. If you want Herbst embedded in the cycle, and in a really fine performance, then it is included by Goerne in both of his splendid versions (Decca and Harmonia Mundi), and by Schreier (Decca), but Fischer-Dieskau (DG), Bostridge (Warner), and Gerhaher (Arte Nova) omit it. Of the few women to record the cycle, Fassbaender (DG) has it in but Stutzman (Erato) does not. The best solution might be that of Holzmair (Decca) and Pregardien (Challenge) who add it to the CD as an extra, but not within the cycle, which also happens on the last volume (No.37) of the Hyperion/Graham Johnson version. That has the two parts of the cycle shared between two tenors, John Mark Ainsley and Anthony Rolfe Johnson. There are now so many good recordings of this cycle – all of those mentioned above are worth hearing, and several are worth owning. Goerne on Decca (live, with Brendel) is still my choice of the lower voice options, and Bostridge among the tenors. Fassbaender’s disc is a quite exceptional performance. But the long list of those worth really hearing now includes this fine version too.

– MusicWeb International (Roy Westbrook)

The Seven Last Words of Christ refers to the seven short phrases uttered by Jesus on the cross, as gathered from the New Testament. Over the centuries the crucifixion has served as inspiration to countless composers, and settings of these utterances have become something of a subgenre, beginning in the Renaissance with early motets and continuing into our own time. By way of Cesar Franck and Sofia Gubaidulina, composers ranging from Heinrich Schutz to Tristan Murail have contributed versions using various combinations of voice and/or instruments. One of the best known of these settings is probably the one by Joseph Haydn. The one – or rather the four… A rather complicated story begins in 1785, when Haydn received a commission from Cadiz in Spain, at the other end of Europe. He was asked to compose seven slow movements, each ca 10 minutes long, to be played by an orchestra in alternation with the priest expounding on each of the seven words. Relishing this unusual challenge, Haydn accepted and ended up so pleased with the result that he immediately made a version for string quartet as well as authorising another one for keyboard. The work became so popular across Europe that ten years later the music was used one final time, in an oratorio for choir and orchestra. The work is here heard in the version for keyboard, performed by the French pianist Nicolas Stavy. He closes the disc with another unusual work in Haydn’s oeuvre, the Andante con variazioni, Hob. XVII/6, which has been described as ‘the deepest and most profound set of variations for piano composed between Bach and Beethoven’.

Between 1803 and 1968, the Grand Prix de Rome marked the zenith of composition studies at the Paris Conservatoire. In Maurice Ravel’s time the competition included an elimination round (a fugue and a choral piece) followed by a cantata in the form of an operatic scena. The entries were judged by a jury which generally favoured expertise and conformity more than originality and Ravel’s growing reputation as a member of the avant-garde was therefore hardly to his advantage, and may explain why he never won the coveted Premier Grand Prix, and the three-year stay at Rome’s Villa Medici that went with it.

The present set brings together all the vocal works that Ravel composed for the Prix de Rome – five shorter settings for choir and orchestra and three cantatas, each with three characters taking part in a plot which followed a more or less fixed sequence of introduction, recitative and aria, a duet, a trio and a brief conclusion. First published more than half a century after Ravel’s death, these test pieces for the Prix de Rome have never acquired the popularity of his other early works, such as Pavane pour une infante défunte, Jeux d’eau or the String Quartet. They are worth more than their reputation as academic exercises might suggest, however, and deserve to be better known, especially when performed by Orchestre National des Pays de la Loire and Pascal Rophé and a team of vocal soloists including Véronique Gens and Michael Spyres.

REVIEWS:

This two-disc set brings together all of these rare vocal pieces by the composer: five shorter settings for choir and orchestra, and three cantatas, each with three characters taking part in the plot, which followed a more or less fixed sequence of introduction, recitative and aria, a duet, a trio and a brief conclusion. First published more than half a century after Ravel's death in 1937, these test pieces for the Prix de Rome have never acquired the popularity of his later and more mature works, but they are no mean pieces and are worth more than their reputation as academic exercises might suggest. These are compositions that are deftly crafted, full of attractive melodies, harmonically refined, and very often deeply sensitive. Indeed, they encapsulate all of the future Ravel hallmarks that were to make him one of the twentieth century's leading French composers.

Pascal Rophé draws some convincing performances and, in his hands, the music has an immediacy that keeps it consistently fresh and vivid. More than a collector's item which should attract the interest of all music lovers - Ravel aficionados in particular. Sonics and booklet notes are first-rate.

-- Classical Music Daily



Less well known among his works, the Missa sacra, Op. 147, bears witness to Robert Schumann’s late interest in sacred music – and in particular in Catholic church music. The work would have a rather difficult fate: during Schumann’s lifetime, it was neither published nor performed in its entirety. Even after its posthumous première, opinions were lukewarm. Wrongly so: the Missa sacra is a fascinating attempt to update sacred music through a refined post-classical musical language. It was originally conceived for orchestra, but Schumann also made a version for organ, presented here. This version allows great vocal transparency and immediacy, thus contributing to a clearer vision of the work. The Vier doppelchörige Gesänge for mixed choir a cappella, Op. 141, are also undeservedly neglected works: they constitute the high point in Schumann’s music for choir. These four songs unite both secular and religious-themed, the latter component being musically emphasised by the effect of multiple choirs. These two fascinating works are performed by the Swedish Radio Choir under the direction of Kaspar Putninš. Among his recordings for BIS is the Liturgy of St John Chrysostom by Rachmaninov (BIS-2571), which has received widespread critical acclaim, for example being awarded a prestigious Diapason d’Or by the French magazine Diapason.

REVIEW:

Schumann’s Missa Sacra, Op. 147, was one of the last things he wrote, and it wasn’t published until after his death. As it happens, it is marvelous, and it was probably just waiting for a top-notch reading of the sort that it receives here. Schumann attempts to merge the rather conservative structure of the Classical mass with Romantic stylistic ideas, and the work is really not like anything else he ever wrote. The Four Songs for Double Choir, Op. 141, close out the program; written slightly earlier, they are rare and quite persuasive. Yet it is the mass that may rewrite the choral repertory lists a bit; in this lovely performance, it is a gem.

-- AllMusic.com (James Manheim)

Dan Laurin has released around thirty albums on BIS since the beginning of his collaboration in 1987. Laurin’s recorder music spans the globe and across the years, from England to Japan, and from the Renaissance to today. This latest release journeys to early 18th century France, and features composers such as Nicolas Chedeville, Anne Danican Philidor, Charles Dieupart, Marin Marais, and more.

Born in Russia, Victoria Borisova-Ollas has lived in Sweden since 1993. In the international music press, she has been described as ‘a composer with a sparkling individual voice’ and an ‘orchestrator of the greatest virtuosity’. This is borne out by this well-filled album which features five works from 2003 to 2013, in performances by the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra (RSPO) with which Borisova-Ollas enjoys a long-standing collaboration. Angelus was composed for the 850th anniversary of the city of Munich and takes the listener on a walk through the city and its many clock towers. Angelus is conducted by Andrey Boreyko, who has championed the music of Borisova-Ollas for many years.

As a performer and conductor, Christian Lindberg has a rare ability to electrify an audience, and as reviewers attest, the same applies to his compositions. Released on disc in 2018, his viola concerto Steppenwolf was described as ‘one of those rare contemporary works that captures the attention from the first notes’ (Fanfare) while the five-star review in BBC Music Magazine spoke of ‘thrilling orchestral storytelling’ and ‘glorious musical cavalcades’. The present album offers further opportunity to acquaint oneself with the unstoppable energy of Lindberg in all of his three incarnations. The album is named after the closing work, 2017, described by Lindberg as his testimony about a year when the world changed, as a result of the US presidential election. Starting work on it on 1st January he followed the news in the media and let it feed his creative process throughout the course of the year. The opening work is an earlier one, commissioned for the nine trombones of The New Trombone Collective, and inspired by the spectacle of great waves rolling in at the beach in Wollongong, Australia. Framed by these two is Liverpool Lullabies, a concertante work for percussion and trombone which Lindberg composed with Evelyn Glennie and himself in mind. They are also the soloists on this recording, supported by the Antwerp Symphony Orchestra which also shines in the other two works on the album.

Growing up in Vienna, with its great Lied tradition, Hans Gál had written about 100 songs before leaving secondary school. He later destroyed them, along with all his other works composed prior to 1910, but between 1910 and 1921 he wrote many more. Except for the five songs of Op. 33, these were never published, and Gál himself would later refer to them as ‘laid aside’. Many of these songs were publicly performed at the time, however, often with the composer at the piano. Through the initiative of Christian Immler and Helmut Deutsch, 26 of the ‘laid-aside’ songs are now being made available to a modern audience. A labor of love for the performers, the project has had the support of the composer’s family – in fact the recording was produced by Hans Gál’s grandson, Simon Fox-Gál. The songs provide a missing link in Gál’s creative development, and show him engaging with a wide variety of poets, extending back from the twelfth-century (Walther von der Vogelweide) to contemporaries, such as Hermann Hesse and Richard Dehmel, by way of the classics (Heine, Mörike). Reflecting a taste for the exotic which was fashionable at the time, the selection also includes settings of poems by Rabindranath Tagore. The performers close their recital with the Op. 33 set, the only songs that Hans Gál did publish during his long career.

REVIEW:

This is a treasure-trove of songs in the tradition of Richard Strauss, melodically radiant and full of sensitivity to atmosphere. Immler is ideally suited to them, with expansive, radiant tone and splendid diction; Helmut Deutsch sets his peerless pianism at the disposal of composer and singer.

– BBC Music Magazine

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)

For the fifth volume in her series of Erik Satie's piano music, Noriko Ogawa reaches back to an early period in the composer's life. A large part of the program comes from Satie's so-called mystical period. Influenced by medieval plainsong and avoiding all pathos, Satie resorted to austere melodies based on rhythms and harmonies simplified to the extreme; he turned away from the concepts of development and variation in favour of simple repetition of perfectly symmetrical phrases. In other words, he broke completely with the classical-romantic tradition. In its purity and abstraction, Satie’s music from this period seems surprisingly modern by comparison with that of his contemporaries. The title of this volume is Ésoterik Satie, a nickname given to the composer during the period when he began a collaboration with Joséphin Peladan, the grand-master of the ‘Rose-Croix catholique du temple et du graal’, an artistic movement close to symbolism and esotericism. Satie’s fascination for the Middle Ages is reflected not only in the music itself, but also in the titles of some works, such as Ogives (the pointed arches of Gothic architecture), Danses gothiques or Fête donnée par les Chevaliers Normand.

REVIEW:

Noriko Ogawa is a sure guide to these pieces. She plays them on an 1890 Erard piano, which has a bright, clear, rather shallow tone. The booklet is very informative, though the pieces are not played in the order in which they are discussed. These works are best taken a few at a time. Satie’s world is intense but it is also narrow, and the pieces here are all rather similar.

-- MusicWeb International

‘The fantastic thing about art and music is that one can pose questions and conjure up visions at the same time.’ The words are those of the Swedish composer Jesper Nordin, who does exactly that in Emerging from Currents and Waves. A large-scale work for orchestra, clarinet soloist, conductor and live electronics, Emerging… is a collaboration between Nordin, Martin Fröst and Esa-Pekka Salonen. All three are interested in how new technology can – and will – influence art and artistic expression, and in exploring the intersection of mankind, music and technology. Emerging from Currents and Waves is in three parts, with the clarinet concerto "Emerging" at its center. In the work the electronic and the acoustic world meet on an equal footing. The sound of the live orchestra is recorded in real time, sampled, treated and played back, in processes that are controlled by both soloist and conductor with the help of motion sensors. The technology used for this is Gestrument (from ‘gesture’ and ‘instrument’), originally invented by Nordin as a tool for composition, but which here is used rather as an instrument.

The present recording was made at the first performance of the work, in Stockholm’s Berwaldhallen during the 2018 Baltic Sea Festival. In concert a visual element was added as images generated by the electronic music-making were projected onto several layers of transparent fabrics forming a specially designed sculpture that hovered above the orchestra.

After the six Op. 18 quartets, the much-acclaimed Chiaroscuro Quartet now turns to two masterpieces from Beethoven’s middle and late periods. String Quartet No. 10 in E flat major, Op. 74, nicknamed ‘Harp’ because of the abundant pizzicati in its first movement, comes across as a genial and unproblematic work that was very well received immediately upon publication and has remained one of the composer’s best-loved quartets. String Quartet No. 13 in B flat major, Op. 130, is in a very different vein. Belonging to the series of so-called ‘late’ quartets composed between 1824 and 1826, it is a six-movement structure modelled on an eighteenth-century divertimento, adding two movements to the traditional four-movement scheme: an Alla danza tedesca and a Cavatina. Despite its evocation of an archaic dance, the Alla danza tedesca is typically Beethovenian, with its original treatment of dynamics. The Cavatina, which moved the composer to tears during its composition, is a lyrical and moving piece. Beethoven had intended to conclude this imposing work with a large-scale fugue, but its boldness baffled his first listeners and, at the request of his publisher, he resorted instead to a more approachable movement presenting a mixture of laconic dryness and, in places, tender lyricism.

REVIEW:

Though there’s no shortage of recordings of the Beethoven quartets, versions by groups taking an historically informed approach to these works, such as these from the Chiaroscuro Quartet, are still relatively rare. The ensemble's sound world is warmer, more expressively flexible and transparent than we have become so used to in this familiar music. The wonderfully paced opening of the E flat Quartet Op 74, grows steadily in insistence, until it blossoms into melody in a totally unforced way, setting the tone for everything that follows; there seem to be no preconceptions in these performances, everything comes from the music itself.

The challenges of the B flat Quartet Op 130 are on a different level, and not every decision the Chiaroscuro make in that work is convincing – the great slow movement, the Cavatina, is taken just a fraction too fast, for instance, but the finale that follows (the replacement that Beethoven composed in 1826, not the original Grosse Fuge) has a wonderfully clipped character that, like a lot in these performances, seems perfectly appropriate.

-- The Guardian (Andrew Clements)

Following their critically acclaimed albums of Schubert (BIS-2597), Mozart and Birchall (BIS-2647), works for clarinet trio (BIS-2535) and, more recently, Beethoven and Berwald (BIS-2707), the Wigmore Soloists now turn their attention to twentieth-century English chamber works which, while eschewing some of the continent’s modernist tendencies, are both deeply personal and supremely written, highlighting the specific colors of each of the instruments.

Howard Ferguson’s Octet, a direct and engaging work, was the first of his works to attract attention. Ferguson’s skill is brilliantly demonstrated in this tonally ambiguous work, which takes its instrumentation from Schubert’s famous Octet.

The main characteristic of Sir Arthur Bliss’s Clarinet Quintet, like those of Mozart and Brahms with the same instrumental line-up, is its intense, overtly emotional lyricism, but the sunny, extrovert aspects of Bliss’s character ultimately prevail in the brilliantly energetic finale.

Robin Holloway’s Serenade in C for octet is the most recent work on this disc, and also features the instrumentation of Schubert’s Octet, which the composer acknowledges as a model. Few contemporary composers display as keen a sense of humor as Holloway who wished here to give “an affectionate twist to tonal common practice and light-music clichés all the way from Biedermeier Vienna to Southend Pier”.

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893) Gothenburg Symphony OrchestraNeeme Jarvi, conductor Symphony no 1 in G minor "Winter Dreams", Op. 13; Romeo &Â?JulietSymphony no 2 in C minor "Little Russian", Op. 17; Overture in FSymphony no 3 in D major "Polish", Op. 29; The Snow Maiden, Op.12Symphony no 4 in F minor, Op. 36; Symphony no 5 in E minor, Op 64Symphony no 6 in B minor "Pathetique", Op. 74; The Tempest;Overture on the Danish National Anthem; Voyevoda Dances;Dmitri Pretender and Vassily Shuisky; Serenade for N.Rubinstein;Capriccio Italien; Francesca da Rimini; etc.

This disc celebrates the centenary of Jean Francaix, (1912-1997), as well as his music, written with the stated aim to 'give pleasure;. A precocious talent, praised by Ravel for his great gifts and curiosity, and astonishing Nadia Boulanger with his ability, Francaix wrote his first chamber work for winds, the Quartet, in 1933 at the age of 21, and completed his Quintet No.2 more than 50 years later - with a remarkably consistent style marked by lightness and wit. Francaix' works are favourites not only with audiences but also with the musicians themselves, enjoying the challenges of his virtuosic writing, his fleet way with rhythms and timbres and the conversational character of the interplay between individual parts. The highly regarded Bergen Woodwind Quintet, consisting of solo players from the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra, here perform four chamber works for winds which all share these characteristics - and do so with obvious pleasure. The versatile ensemble released its first disc on BIS in 1985, and has recorded chamber music by Carl Nielsen as well as by David Maslanka, to critical acclaim.

A MusicWeb International Recording of the Month

The Schola cantorum is a chamber choir – on this evidence an elite chamber choir - founded in 1996 by Hörður Áskelsson, who is a leading figure in Icelandic choral music. It numbers 19 singers (5/4/5/5). The program selected for this disc reflects the memorial music that is customarily sung in Iceland on the first Sunday in November; in Iceland the feasts of All Saints and All Souls have become merged and are celebrated jointly on that day.

As befits the nature of the program, there are no less than three settings, all in Latin, of the Nunc dimittis. The best-known is the setting by Arvo Pärt. His music always requires exemplary control on the part of the singers and that’s much in evidence here. There’s no hiding place in Pärt’s spare texture but the singers of Schola cantorum display great precision – a precision, I might add, that’s entirely at the service of the music and not just attained for its own sake. The other two settings of the canticle are fully worthy to stand besides Pärt’s celebrated version. Both are by members of the Schola – by coincidence both are members of its bass section. The music of Sigurður Sævarsson’s setting has a fragile beauty. The setting is very restrained, even eschewing the almost traditional climax at the words ‘lumen ad revelationem gentium’. The setting by Sævarsson’s colleague, Hreiðar Ingi is rather darker-hued, at least initially, though the music becomes louder and more radiant at ‘lumen ad revelationem gentium’. In the doxology the voices constantly overlap, creating an impression of urgency though it may be – I haven’t seen a score – that the pulse remains unchanged.

There are two settings of the poem Hvíld (Repose) by the Icelandic poet, Snorri Hjartarson (1906-86). One is by the Schola’s conductor, Hörður Áskelsson. His is an intriguing piece, containing probably the most harmonically adventurous music on the program. Earlier the choir sings another response to the same text, this time by Hugi Guðmundsson. This rapt composition is simple, sincere and disarmingly lovely.

Jón Leifs' Requiem is one of four works written in response to the tragically early death of his daughter in 1947 – she drowned at the age of just 17. Leifs’ Requiem is patently sincere – one would expect nothing less in the circumstances – and in this piece he bears his evident grief with dignity. On the surface the music seems simple but harmonically it’s sophisticated. I admired this piece very much.

There are two examples of the music of Þorkell Sigurbjörnsson. Nú hverfur sól í haf (The sun is sinking now) is a hymn – Sigurbjörnsson was closely involved in the music of the Church of Iceland. The tune is most attractive and it’s beautifully harmonised by Sigurbjörnsson. Heyr himna smiður (Hear, Heaven’s creator) is another hymn-like piece. In his invaluable notes Halldór Hauksson describes the piece as ‘exquisite and timeless’; I can understand why. I must not neglect to mention Anna Þorvaldsdóttir’s Heyr þú oss himnum á (Hear us in the heavens). The piece is based on an old Icelandic tune; it’s slow and prayerful.

The remainder of the program is devoted to composers and music that will be much more familiar to the general listener. I must confess that when I first played MacMillan’s A Child’s Prayer I thought the sound a bit too ‘present’, especially the quiet murmurs of the word “welcome” by the choir. However, I think that’s a function of the piece being placed first on the disc. When I went back to it my ears had adjusted and I was untroubled. In any event, it’s an extremely fine performance. Tavener’s The Lamb receives a marvellously accomplished performance, the chording precise and the dynamics expertly calibrated. Speaking of dynamics, the notes contain a quote from Eric Whitacre in which he says of his Lux aurumque ‘if the tight harmonies are carefully tuned and balanced they will shimmer and glow’. That’s just what happens here.

For me the standout performance on this superb disc is the Schola’s account of Eriks Ešenvalds’ wonderful, radiant composition O salutaris hostia. The present, luminous performance is as good as any I’ve heard, with two fabulous soprano soloists caroling above the rest of the choir.

This is truly an outstanding disc. The choir is superb. Their tuning, balance and blend is flawless and the sound that they make gives great pleasure. Yet while the singing may be expert there’s no sense of studied perfection; these expert singers and their conductor produce performances of genuine feeling that draw the listener in. In short, this is one of the most accomplished choral discs that I’ve heard in a long time. I loved their program in which familiar and unfamiliar music is blended in an ideal proportion.

The production values are up to the usual very high BIS standards. Halldór Hauksson’s notes are excellent, not least in introducing us to the Icelandic pieces, which will be unfamiliar to most people. I’ve drawn on his notes in writing of the Icelandic music. The recording itself is immaculate. The choir is presented in a clear, natural and present sound that shows off their singing to best advantage.

On all counts this disc is a winner.

– MusicWeb International (John Quinn)

Asked the question ‘How many sonatas for violin and piano did Johannes Brahms compose?’, many lovers of chamber music would probably answer three, and maybe also add their respective keys and opus numbers. When pressed, a number of them would also remember the so-called F.A.E. Sonata, a collaborative effort by the young Brahms, Albert Dietrich and their mentor Robert Schumann. But very few would probably think of the two Opus 120 sonatas, composed in 1894 for clarinet (or viola) and piano, but a year later published in the composer’s own version for the violin. As the range of the B flat clarinet goes a fourth lower than that of the violin, Brahms had been forced to make considerable revisions to the clarinet part – which in turned entailed changes in the piano part, and consequently the printing of a new piano score. The seasoned team of violinist Ulf Wallin and pianist Roland Pöntinen have now decided to record all the Brahms sonatas, and the results are being released on two albums, the first one including the first of the ‘official’ sonatas, No. 1 in G major, Op. 78, the F minor Sonata from Op. 120 and Brahms’s Scherzo from the F.A.E. Sonata. Wallin and Pöntinen round off the programme with transcriptions of two of Brahms’s more lyrical songs.