L’Orfeo by Claudio Monteverdi (1567–1643) is often described as the first opera. The composer himself used another term for his work, however: ‘favola in musica’, a musical tale. Taking this as their point of departure, the performers on the present recording place the emphasis on the libretto’s direct narrative, and how the music alone is used to express emotions, a music which underpins the plot and the text word for word. To quote the liner notes: ‘To modern ears the musical heritage of L’Orfeo is more to be found in the Lieder tradition than in the grand opera of the nineteenth century.’ The tale told by Monteverdi and the members of the three ensembles which bring his score to life, is that of Orpheus, the poet and musician who travels to the Underworld in order to persuade Hades to let his beloved Eurydice return to the living. Under the direction of Fredrik Malmberg, and with Johan Linderoth as their Orfeo, the 38 singers and musicians that make up Ensemble Lundabarock, Höör Barock and Ensemble Altapunta perform a score which in 1607 was state-of-the-art contemporary. Four full centuries after the first performance in Mantua it remains almost shockingly modern, as in the sound of cornetts and trombones that summon up the spirits of the Underworld or the portrayal of undiluted, raw grief in Orfeo’s celebrated aria Possente Spirto.

REVIEW:

Recordings of early Baroque opera from Scandinavia are not common; this one, from a collection of Swedish and Finnish groups led by keyboardist Fredrik Malmberg, may be the first recording from the region of Monteverdi's pioneering opera L'Orfeo. It's quite fresh and is unusually compelling for general audiences, for whom this five-act opera may sometimes be a slog. The famous "Possente spirto" from Act III, is no formulaic prayer but a strikingly powerful moment that matches the text to Monteverdi's musico-dramatic innovations. The all-Scandinavian cast, led by Johan Linderoth as Orfeo, responds nimbly to Malmberg's intentions, and there is not really a moment when the dramatic momentum flags. This can be recommended not only to collectors of early Baroque recordings but to general listeners, for whom it would make a splendid introduction to the opera.

– AllMusicGuide.com (James Manheim)

This album features solo keyboard arrangements of works by Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach originally scored for other instruments. In the second half of the eighteenth century the demand for keyboard music increased rapidly, as musical skills became a social requisite for young ladies of the upper classes. To provide compositions for these new keyboard players was financially profitable, but Bach also had another reason for welcoming arrangements: the keyboard instruments were his favorite medium, and he devoted himself to making them into solo instruments as important as the violin and other melody instruments. The eighteen short pieces on this well-filled disc all exist in versions for various small groups of instruments or, in some cases, for mechanical instruments such as the barrel organ. Miklós Spányi has grouped them around three larger-scaled works, of which two are arrangements of symphonies while the Concerto in F major for solo keyboard may in fact be an original composition: a version for keyboard and orchestra exists, but is possibly a later development. In the case of several of the arrangements it is uncertain who made them – some of them only survive in the hand of one of Bach’s admirers. In his liner notes to the disc, Spányi proposes that they could in fact be the original versions, however, as he sees a striking similarity to Bach’s other, indisputably genuine small keyboard pieces.

For the past ten years Rick Stotijn has been making Stockholm his second home, finding musical inspiration as well as new friends there. The present disc is a reflection of this, with existing and new repertoire involving the double bass by composers who have all at some point lived and worked in the city. The oldest work, as well as the best known, is the Concerto for Double Bass by Eduard Tubin, composed in 1948. Stotijn performs it here with the support of his own orchestra, the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra under James Gaffigan. The other concerto on the disc was composed especially for Stotijn and for the violinist Malin Broman by Britta Byström. Infinite Rooms (2016) is a double concerto – in which the violinist switches between violin and viola – with inspiration from the Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama. It was awarded the most important Swedish composition prize, Stora Christ Johnson-priset, in 2020, and comes with three ‘Walks’, potential encores which can also serve as bridges to the next work during the concert, be it by Schubert, Bruckner or Strauss. The orchestra heard in Infinite Rooms is the Västerås Sinfonietta, conducted by Simon Crawford-Phillips, who also appears on the disc in the role of pianist: Jesper Nordin’s Piano Trio, is an adaptation by the composer for these performers, of an earlier score for violin, cello and orchestra. Closing the disc is In memoriam by Carin Malmlöf-Forssling, a brief vocalise for soprano here transcribed for the double bass.

Kalevi Aho is one of today’s most prolific composers of large-scale orchestral scores, including 17 symphonies and 32 concertos to date. Less well-known is the fact that he has also written chamber music, as well as an ever-expanding series of solo pieces – starting with Solo I for violin from 1975, the most recent in the series, for clavichord, is the 17th. Some of these pieces has originated as part of Aho’s preparations when composing a concerto for the instrument in question, while others have been written for competitions, including Solo III for flute and Solo IV for cello on the present release. This first volume of Solos gathers seven pieces in all, four of which have previously appeared as part of separate discs. Aho’s Solos share the characteristic that they pose great technical, interpretative and often also physical challenges to the performer. Most of those heard here are performed by the musicians for whom they were written, including Hiyoli Togawa (Solo XII), Piet Van Bockstal (Solo IX), Simon Reitmaier (Solo XIV) and Marie-Luise Neunecker (Solo X).

Of the two large piano sonatas composed by Charles Ives, No. 2 (’the Concord Sonata’) is by far the best-known, overshadowing its sibling. The First Piano Sonata is comparably ambitious, however, and with a playing time of more than 40 minutes, similarly expansive. Like many works by Ives it had a long gestation period, beginning in 1901 with additions and revisions being made well into the 1920s. In contrast to the Concord, Ives didn’t provide the work with an explicit programme, but wrote that it was ‘mostly about the outdoor life in Connecticut villages in the 1880s and 90s.’ This can to an extent explain the various borrowings from hymns, but New York City, where Ives was living, has also left a clear mark with a liberal use of ragtime rhythms. Ives composed a third ‘sonata’ for the piano, the so-called Three-Page Sonata, cast in three brief but challenging movements. The two works are both included on this recording by Joonas Ahonen, who released the Concord Sonata in 2017 to critical acclaim, with the French magazine Classica praising ‘his youthful impetuosity and technical prowess’. Ives’ sonatas frame the third work on the disc, the Austrian composer Bernhard Gander’s Peter Parker from 2004. It is the alter ego of the superhero Spider-Man that has lent his name to Gander’s highly virtuosic and original piano piece which presents a panorama of the superhero’s patterns of movement, transformed into music.

REVIEW:

The Piano Sonata No. 1, begun in 1901, represented an underappreciated breakthrough for Ives, even if he did continue to tinker with it into the 1920s. The work encompasses the polyphonic weaving of many strands of American music that would occupy Ives for much of his mature compositional life. Ahonen is a pianist with a fine feeling for Ives, catching the way he can turn on a dime from weighty matters to a kind of sly humor. The passages where many streams of life flow through the music are clear and confident, the rhythmic shifts that suffuse the music and that make up the backbone of the concluding Three-Page Sonata are crisp.

That work is joined in bringing down the curtain by composer Bernhard Gander's Peter Parker (a.k.a. Spider-Man), depicting the superhero's kinetic repertory. This is a very strong and thoroughly enjoyable Ives release.

-- AllMusic.com (James Manheim)

Previous releases from the New York-based Escher Quartet include an acclaimed set of Mendelsohn’s six string quartets as well as an album with works by Dvorák, Tchaikovsky and Borodin. For their latest offering the members have looked closer to home, however, choosing to combine the quartets by Samuel Barber and Charles Ives. The disc opens with Barber’s String Quartet in B minor, containing the music for which the composer remains best-known: the second movement which he two years later expanded into Adagio for Strings. Recognizing its potential already while composing it, Barber described the piece as ‘a knock-out’ – which made it all the more difficult to come up with a third movement worthy to follow it. In the end he decided to make the quartet a two-movement work, but the Eschers have here included the lively third movement that the composer discarded, offering the opportunity to hear the work as it was once planned. Barber is followed by the two full-scale quartets by Charles Ives, as well as a brief Scherzo. Like many other compositions by Ives, his First Quartet makes extensive use of revival and gospel hymns, quoting them in all four movements in a highly accessible tonal idiom. Far more challenging, the Second Quartet is a portrayal of ‘four men / who converse, discuss, argue ... fight, shake hands, shut up / then walk up the mountainside to view the firmament’ – a programme which invites a liberal use of dissonance, but also – towards the end – a particularly fulfilling resolution.

REVIEW:

Here's a nifty album of American chamber music that works on several levels. The Escher String Quartet offers a crisp reading of Barber's quartet as a whole that does not overdo the sentiment in the Adagio. There are also clear readings of Charles Ives' two string quartets, one broadly tonal, one conceptual and modern. So, a good choice for listeners wanting to broaden their appreciation of Barber and Ives, but the album also has much to offer those who have thought deeply about these composers. There is also a welcome performance of one of Ives' bracingly humorous Three Pieces for String Quartet, the second piece, "Hold Your Own!" In short, there is something for almost everyone in this fine release.

– AllMusicGuide.com (James Manheim)

Following a visit to Wagner in Bayreuth in 1873, Anton Bruckner dedicated his most recent symphony, No.3 in D minor, to ‘the unattainable world-famous noble master of poetry and music’ and would later refer to the work as his ‘Wagner Symphony’. Among Bruckner’s symphonies, it is the one with the most complicated genesis: the first version was followed by substantial revisions and it exists in two more versions, from 1877/78 and 1888/89. The first version was never performed in Bruckner’s lifetime – in fact, more than a century passed before the work was heard in the form that Wagner first knew and called ‘a masterpiece’. This is the version that Thomas Dausgaard has chosen to perform, as he and the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra follow up on their recording of the composer’s Sixth Symphony, praised in Fanfare for having ‘all of Bruckner’s splendor and tenderness without any excess baggage’. Dausgaard explains the reason for his choice as follows: ‘The original version stands as a monolith … what you go through is musically so strong, swinging between timelessness and drive, despair and ecstasy, divine light and hellish fire, that in the end I feel you have to let yourself go and be won over by it.’

REVIEW:

Dausgaard's Bruckner symphonies tend toward the quick side, but he has never been quite as relatively fast as he is here; his original Symphony No. 3 is more than 12 minutes faster than a version by Kent Nagano from the early 2000s, and his reading comes in even shorter than some of the recordings of Bruckner's abridged versions. This is all to the good, even for listeners who prefer heavier Bruckner to Dausgaard's rather lithe style. Dausgaard's quick tempos catch the kaleidoscope of moods, and with them, the febrile quality of Bruckner's imagination in this work, really his creative breakthrough. Dausgaard's management of his Bergen musicians is, as usual, exemplary as they skitter through the difficult passages that bedeviled the symphony's early interpreters. A high point in Dausgaard's Bruckner project.

– AllMusicGuide.com (James Manheim)

On Remembering, the Danish cellist Jakob Kullberg continues his collaborations with two of the foremost Nordic composers: Per Nørgård and Kaija Saariaho. Praised internationally for his performances of the modern cello concerto, Kullberg regards the concerto form as the encounter of an individual soloist with the sound world of a composer. With living composers this approach often results in an unusual degree of collaboration, as the works gathered here bear witness to. Since 1999, Kullberg has enjoyed a close and unique partnership with Nørgård which has resulted in a large number of works. Between, the opening work on the album, hails from a time before this, but Nørgård’s viola concerto Remembering Child in its version for the cello is very much an example of Kullberg’s process. He has not only transferred the concerto to his own instruments, but has also – in consultation with the composer – written his own cadenza as well as added details to the score. Likewise, at a climactic point exactly halfway through Saariaho’s concerto Notes on Light, Kullberg creates an expressive space of his own, with a two-minute cadenza he has composed himself. In this work, as well as in Nørgård’s Between, Kullberg is supported by the BBC Philharmonic, with Sinfonia Varsovia appearing in the closing concerto.

Previous installments of the Beethoven sonata cycle from Frank Peter Zimmermann and Martin Helmchen have met with wide acclaim. Described as ‘conversations by a perfect instrumental pairing’ in BBC Music Magazine, the albums have received a Choc in Classica and the recommendation of German website klassik.com, respectively. This the third and final volume brings together Beethoven's last three works in the genre, composed between 1801 and 1812. The center-piece is the ninth sonata, the famed ‘Kreutzer Sonata’. 

Composed in 1982, Arvo Pärt’s Passio has retained its place as one of the foremost works of sacred music of the late 20th century. It has been called a minimalist masterpiece, and is a seminal work in the composer’s oeuvre – the culmination of his so-called tintinnabuli style, and the first in a line of large-scale choral works on religious themes. Passion settings have a long history, with polyphonic settings for choral performance beginning in the 15th century and continuing up until the high baroque and the monumental works by Johann Sebastian Bach. In his Passion, Pärt looks back to an older tradition, however – the medieval one of a single voice chanting the text. As a result, the narrative – chapters 18 and 19 of the Gospel of St. John – becomes the basis for sustained spiritual contemplation rather than the drama of Bach’s Passions. Another important distinction from earlier Passion settings is Pärt’s treatment of the Evangelist, who narrates the story. Rather than a single voice, he employs a quartet: soprano, alto, tenor and bass, accompanied by an ensemble of four instruments. The only other instrument used in the work is the organ, again in contrast to the larger instrumental forces of the Bach Passions. This contemplative work is here performed by the Helsinki Chamber Choir under Nils Schweckendiek.

REVIEW:

Arvo Pärt's Passio (1982), also known as the St. John Passion, is sometimes grouped with the large pieces of the time in which Pärt developed his tintinnabuli technique. The technique is present in the work, but Passio is unlike anything else Pärt ever wrote. The Passio has rarely been recorded, and that's reason enough to welcome this reading by the Helsinki Chamber Choir. More reason is provided by the performers, who offer expressive interpretations with a fine sense of the functions of the many pauses in the music. This performance diverges somewhat from the stark version by Paul Hillier and the Hilliard Ensemble some years ago, and BIS' sound, from a Helsinki church, is warmer than that of ECM on the Hillier version, allowing in some ambient noise such as organ machinery. This is an extraordinary performance of an underrated work by one of the major composers of our time.

-- AllMusic.com (James Manheim)

That Baïlèro, a shepherd’s song from the highlands of Auvergne sung in the Occitan dialect of the area, should become a favorite with singers ranging from Victoria de los Angeles to Sarah Brightman by way of Renée Fleming and Karita Mattila, is all because of Marie-Joseph Canteloube de Malaret. As a budding composer in Paris in the 1900s, Canteloube was unable to interest himself in the various musical cliques and currents. Instead he looked for inspiration in Auvergne in central France where he was born, starting to collect the songs of the farmers and shepherds that lived in the mountainous region. But he did so as a composer rather than a musicologist, and between 1923 and 1954 he published a total of thirty Chants d’Auvergne, arranged, harmonized and sumptuously orchestrated. The result is, one might say, idealized folk music: Canteloube largely respects the melodic line of the originals, but adds instrumental introductions, interludes and postludes, and gives an important role to the woodwind section. For the present disc, Carolyn Sampson and Pascal Rophé have selected 25 of the songs – ranging from love songs and lullabies to working songs and laments. They perform them together with Tapiola Sinfonietta, bringing sparkle to Canteloube's luxurious scores halfway between the impressionism of Debussy and the bucolic lyricism of d'Indy.

For a string player, Beethoven’s 16 quartets are of an importance similar to that of his sonatas to a pianist, or his symphonies to a conductor. As a body they form the culmination of all the chamber music composed before them, and to this day they remain a benchmark for every composer of string quartets. The Chiaroscuro Quartet begin their cycle of these works at the same place as Beethoven did, with the Op. 18 set which occupied him intensively for the best part of two years (1798 – 1800). The effort he put into these quartets was surely due to the fact that he had much to live up to – they would be measured against those of Haydn and Mozart, who had raised the genre to a supreme vehicle for ‘learned’ taste and subtle, civilized musical discourse. Beethoven was clearly determined that the six Op.?18 quartets should present the widest possible overview of his art. Of the three works included on this first volume, No.?1 in F major is the most imposing in scale and the widest in expressive range. In comparison, the second quartet, in G major, is more urbane and light-hearted, recreating the spirit of an eighteenth-century comedy of manners à la Haydn. The most lyrical of the set is Quartet No.?3 in D major, which despite its numbering was probably the first quartet that Beethoven completed.

REVIEW:

Quartet 3 in D major is the most striking, its first movement all surprises. Surprise 1 is its sense of improvisation, well conveyed by Alina Ibragimova. Surprise 2 is Ibragimova seamlessly introducing a second theme determinedly enjoying life. Surprise 3 is the cello, laying down a backcloth of octave leap then descent in quavers while the upper parts’ third theme comprises a spurting ascent and triumph of hammered crotchets. Surprise 4, all instruments together in a fourth theme of gracious chordal stability. Surprise 5, a crashing call to attention. Surprise 6: the development casts the opening theme in D minor. Surprise 7, a crisis with a surround of writhing quavers and conclusion of ff quavers in triplets by all. Surprise 8, a sudden calm and recapitulation. Surprise 9: the coda, Ibragimova bringing gazing, mystical questioning to that opening theme, the fourth theme response relieving it to return on an even keel, comfortably displayed by second violin and cello and enthusiastically validated by Ibragimova.

In the Andante con moto, the Chiaroscuros demonstrate the idée fixe of an opening theme progressing satisfyingly: just two largely rising sequences followed by two falling ones. The playful second theme is fastidiously pointed by Ibragimova and colleagues in turn. Soon comes an exploration of more sombre, questioning aspects of the first theme in a kind of variation proposed by first violin and cello and cast in pale sunlight, a striking effect from the Chiaroscuros’ gut strings, by first and second violins. Contrasted is the return of the second theme’s playfulness, then a wonderfully rounded, contrapuntally rich ‘variation’ of the first theme In the coda the cello brings a final observation of the shadowy low, and from first violin high, boundaries of the theme.

The third movement is an Allegro stylish dance from the Chiaroscuros, not labelled Minuet, not a Scherzo. It’s full of nuances well caught by the Chiaroscuros: pauses, rests and a sense of searching out the light. The ‘Trio’ in D minor has the second violin initiating running quavers, then the first taking them into upper register, the others treading saturninely the four-note ground bass Bach used in his Partita 2 for solo violin Ciaccona.

The Presto finale is an incisive display of rhythmic displacement, dynamic and textural contrasts, its development climax powerful. It sounds quite like 20th century music for strings. The Chiaroscuros deliver it with taste and polish, their coda both triumphant and carefree. The Dovers go for a lighter approach which, while matched by good contrast of accents and dynamics, doesn’t have the edge and tricksiness of the Chiaroscuros.

Best of the rest? In Quartet 1 in F major, the Adagio slow movement in D minor, marked affettuoso ed appassionato. From Ibragimova’s mournful first violin arioso there’s a vivid sense of exploring as well as experiencing this atmosphere of grief. Light comes with the F major second theme, started by second violin and sweetened by the first, a meditation extended by the viola, second and first violin in sustained, unhurried and unharried communion by the Chiaroscuros. Pianissimo reflection then moves suddenly to f despair, the Chiaroscuros gaunt and uncompromising, but becalmed by the first violin and viola in turn dwelling on the opening four notes of the first theme, so that also subject to meditation. Come the recapitulation of the first theme, after its first phrase the first violin is assaulted by the second and viola, to which it responds with movingly plaintive eloquence. The second theme return consoles, but D major sunlight is wintrier than F major. In the coda, the first violin takes frenzied flight in hemidemisemiquavers in septuplets, Claire Thirion’s cello staunchly maintains the first theme attacked by both violins. A crashing ff discord climax releases the first violin to muse in pitying empathy.

In Quartet 2 in G major, best is the finale, Allegro molto, quasi-Presto. The Chiaroscuros point well the soft, trim first theme before arrestingly sprightly loud wake-up. Then Thirion’s very loud entry of the theme, grittily delivered while Ibragimova half shrieks an equally determined counter motif, yet soon exchanges this for a delicate second theme, demurely echoed by Emilie Hörnlund’s viola, before a delightful sequence of luxuriant yawns from Ibragimova, before launching into a sylphlike dance. This provokes a bold re-entry of the first theme by second violin and viola with Ibragimova in wildly dazzling descant. The true first theme recapitulation begins quite docile, but Ibragimova decamps in showers of semiquavers. Thereafter the Chiaroscuros memorably keep the texture light, illuminating the contrapuntal ingenuity. The coda has a nicely pointed pp start before a crescendo to the scintillating ff close.

– MusicWeb International (Michael Greenhalgh)

Bach was renowned as a keyboard player as well as being an accomplished violinist, but as far as we know he didn't play the lute. He seems to have been fascinated by the instrument’s special sound qualities, however, and was clearly inspired by the possibilities of the Lautenwerk. This was a gut-strung harpsichord designed to imitate the sound of the lute and at least some of the works usually referred to as ‘the Bach Lute Suites’ were probably composed for this instrument. Jakob Lindberg recorded the complete suites in 1992. Returning to the composer almost three decades later, he does so in the company of his Rauwolf lute, an instrument built in Augsburg around 1590 and ‘modernized’ in 1715, during Bach’s lifetime. But this time, only two of the works belong to the standard lute repertoire – the Prelude BWV 999 and the Suite BWV 1006a, which in fact is the composer’s own arrangement of his Partita No. 3 for solo violin. For the remaining works on the disc Lindberg has taken the cue from Bach, making arrangements of Cello Suite No.1 and Sonata No. 1 for solo violin in full. He has also chosen individual movements from other solo works, including the highly complex fugue from Sonata No. 3 for solo violin. The amply filled album (88 minutes!) closes with the iconic Chaconne from Partita No. 2 in D minor.

In 2019, when Alexandre Kantorow, at the age of 22, became the first French pianist to win the Gold Medal at the Tchaikovsky competition, his program included no less than three works by Johannes Brahms. Two of these, Piano Sonata No. 2 and the Rhapsody in B minor, he went on to record for release on his previous, highly praised recital disc, which was awarded distinctions such as Gramophone’s Editor’s Choice, Diapason d’Or, and Choc de Classica. The Brahms interpretations won Kantorow particular praise – the Guardian (UK) described them as ‘magisterial’ while the website ResMusica placed his sonata ‘among the great reference recordings of the piece – if not the modern one.’ There is much to look forward to, then, when Kantorow releases an all-Brahms album with a playing time of no less than 85 minutes.

He opens with music by a composer of a similar age as himself: Brahms wrote the Four Ballades in 1854 while only 21 years old, taking up a fashionable genre introduced by Chopin as late as 1840. The set is followed by the even earlier Sonata No. 3 in E minor which forms the center of the program. The sonata is of almost symphonic dimensions and it was indeed, along with its predecessors, famously described as a disguised symphony by no one less than Robert Schumann. To bring this stormy, impassioned album to a close, Kantorow has chosen a later, and contrasting work: With a lifelong admiration for Bach, Brahms in 1879 made a piano arrangement, for the left hand alone, of the iconic Chaconne from Partita No. 2 for solo violin – a composition that Brahms himself described as ‘a whole world of the deepest thoughts and most powerful impressions’.

REVIEW:

When he made this recording in 2020, Kantorow was just a couple years older than the 20-year-old Brahms who composed the Piano Sonata No. 3. He finds a youthful quality in the sonata and the Ballades that nobody else has quite touched on. Kantorow's Ballades are mysterious, with ghostly quiet passages and mighty climaxes -- again, not what one thinks of usually for Brahms, but again carefully constructed. Only in the Bach arrangement does Kantorow falter a bit. However, he takes chances, and this is all to the good. If one needed any more evidence that Kantorow is a young pianist to watch, it is here in abundance.

-- AllMusic.com (James Manheim)

Born into a working-class family, Anders Eliasson’s earliest musical experiences originated from within himself: ‘they were my own singing, and tunes I heard on the radio’. At the age of nine he began to play the trumpet, and soon after he became the leader of a jazz band for which he wrote arrangements. Aged 14, he found a local organist to teach him harmony and counterpoint, and at 16 he left his hometown for Stockholm to study privately. In 1966 Eliasson enrolled at the Royal College of Music in Stockholm, studying the various techniques and trends of modernism, from dodecaphony to musique concrete. But in the end he found it impossible to ‘break away from more than a thousand years of tradition’, as he put it: ‘Music is like H2O: melody, harmony and rhythm are a single entity. And it has to flow.’ The three works recorded here – all for the first time – are examples of the highly personal idiom he developed as a consequence.

REVIEW:

Eliasson’s Symphony No 3 operates on a continuous weave, the saxophone often riding its surface, whose tightness can put a clamp on the music. To my ears the modality sounds restrictive, rather than a parameter to prompt greater creativity. There are some fine moments, none better than the celestial transition from the ‘Fremiti’ third movement to the ‘Lugubre’ fourth (of five).

Similarly, Eliasson’s Trombone Concerto is a work of deeper structural principle than the label ‘concerto’ might denote and one in which the composer instructed the dedicatee Christian Lindberg to ‘play like a caged bird’. Once more the music can chase its own tail, without the degree of structural fascination or universal vision – the sort Nørgård finds from even more restrictive means – that might have rendered such a chase thrilling.

Thank heavens for Eliasson’s Symphony No 4, in which the composer’s obsessive compositional personality yields embracing fruits. Here the tonal journey is better defined, the development of a single motif clearer and more ripe, the textures more varied and the feeling generally more visceral.

All said and done, a mixed bag. But the soloists give their works everything and the conductors don’t shirk on Eliasson’s firm principles, even if Oramo has more to work with.

-- Gramophone

With the present release, Pascal Rophé and his Orchestre National des Pays de la Loire pay tribute to their great countryman, Claude Debussy – but not with the standard orchestral fare. Debussy Orchestrated paints a portrait of a light-hearted composer, seen through the eyes of two of his collaborators, Henri Büsser and André Caplet, who transferred the works recorded here from the keyboard to the orchestra. In Petite Suite, composed for piano four hands in 1899, Debussy makes allusions to Fêtes galantes by Paul Verlaine, the poet who so often inspired him. Büsser’s orchestration of this light and pleasant suite was made in 1907, and obviously pleased Debussy, as he later entrusted him with making an orchestral version of Printemps. As for Children’s Corner and La Boîte à joujoux, it is probably fair to say that the composer’s main inspiration was his own daughter, Claude-Emma, born in 1905. Both works are dedicated to her, and it is easy to imagine that some of the characters that appear in Children’s Corner had their counterparts among her toys. Letting toys come alive in a ballet was the idea that illustrator André Hellé a few years later presented to Debussy with La Boîte à joujoux. The piano version of the piece was published, with Hellé’s illustrations, in time for Christmas in 1913 and Debussy began orchestrating it the following year, but died before he could complete the task. His friend André Caplet – who had already orchestrated Children’s Corner – took over and the ballet was finally premièred in December 1919.

REVIEWS:

Both "La boite a joujoux" and the similarly enchanting "Children’s Corner" are performed with deft panache by this quality orchestra. There are outstanding individual players, among them the principal oboe, whose haunting contribution to ‘The Little Shepherd’ in Children’s Corner is a special moment.

-- BBC Music Magazine

This is a fine orchestra… and the playing is exquisite. The woodwind sound particularly lovely… it’s a wonderfully engaging disc of great charm.

-- Gramophone

When he died, Nicolaus Bruhns was just 31 years old, and only twelve of his vocal works and five organ compositions have survived. On the strength of these, he is nevertheless considered one of the most prominent North German composers of the generation between Buxtehude and Bach.

Buxtehude was in fact Bruhns's teacher, and thought so highly of him that he recommended him for a position in Copenhagen. There he worked as a violin virtuoso and composer until 1689, when he returned to Northern Germany to become organist in the main church of Husum. It was here that most if not all of the extant works were performed. According to Bach's obituary, Bruhns was one of the composers that he took ‘as a model’, and he is therefore naturally of interest to Bach specialist Masaaki Suzuki.

On this first of two discs made in collaboration with the Yale Institute of Sacred Music, Suzuki directs – from the organ – a group of singers and musicians, in six of the vocal works: so-called ‘sacred concertos’ scored for 1-3 soloists and various combinations of strings with basso continuo. Suzuki’s performances of two organ pieces by Bruhns – the larger of the two preludes in E minor, and the fantasia on the chorale Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland – appear here as well.

REVIEWS:

These performances by famed Bach conductor Masaaki Suzuki were recorded in 2016 and 2017 at Yale University in the U.S. but not released until 2022. Bruhns is closer to Buxtehude (and there's even the flavor of Heinrich Schütz) in these chamber cantatas than he is to Bach. Suzuki directs these pieces from the organ and gets wonderful results from the Yale Institute of Sacred Music choir; if it originally had an American sound, Suzuki smooths it out. His soloists are not quite the equal of those he assembled in Japan, but they are idiomatic and fully equal to the music, perhaps consistent with what the composer would have heard. A wonderful Baroque release commended to anyone with the slightest interest in Bach and his world.

-- AllMusic.com

Between 2010 and 2014, the British Emperor Quartet released the three discs gathered here, with all of Benjamin Britten’s published music for string quartet – as well as his one work for string quintet, the Phantasy in F minor. Their performances of the three numbered quartets, undisputed masterpieces of 20th-century chamber music, were variously described by the critics as ‘stupendous’ (Classic FM Magazine), ‘a wonderful homage’ (Ensemble), and ‘a complete cosmos of colors and nuances’ (Fono Forum), and the discs received top marks and distinctions in magazines such as Fanfare, Diapason and International Record Review.

Britten wrote his String Quartets Nos 1, 2 and 3 in 1941, 1945 and 1975 respectively, but his natural facility in writing for strings was evident from a very early age. The Emperor’s set includes a number of youthful works, from the String Quartet in F, by a fourteen-year old schoolboy, to Simple Symphony, composed in 1934 and the work which may be regarded as his breakthrough. The box set includes the original booklets, with insightful liner notes by Britten specialist Arnold Whittall.

REVIEW:

The Emperors bring energy, commitment, real understanding of the idiom and finesse to all these works. Perhaps they are more at home with the early works than with the final quartet, but that is a strange and hermetic work, and I found their performance compelling enough.

-- MusicWeb International

These remarkable recordings of Britten’s elusive string quartets have appeared before, but are very welcome in this compilation, giving listeners the chance to appraise a lesser-known aspect of Britten’s compositional genius. The Emperor Quartet have the full measure of the pieces.

-- Classical CD Choice

Initially enjoying popularity first in Germany-speaking lands and then in France, the genre of the piano duet (four hands, one piano) went on to blossom in England during the 20th century. On this album Emma Abbate and Julian Perkins present the complete works for piano duet by each of the composers selected. Palm Court Waltz, the Sonatina and Theme and Variations from Lennox Berkeley display Gallic traits, the consequence no doubt of his studies in France and his keen interest in the music of Satie, Ravel and Poulenc. While showing an evolution in the composer’s approach to tonality, every hint of seriousness is constantly balanced by elegant playfulness and diaphanous textures. Less well-known than Berkeley, Richard Arnell and Stephen Dodgson nevertheless contribute to the general atmosphere with their unabashedly tonal music that shows the neoclassical influence of Hindemith, Prokofiev and Stravinsky. Dodgson’s suite Tournament for Twenty Fingers, which gives its title to this disc, is especially full of fun while ending with a homage to the Czech composers Dvorák and Janácek. An outstanding talent, Constant Lambert held jazz in high esteem and his Trois Pièces – written to be played entirely on the piano’s white keys – form a high-spirited and heartfelt tribute to its rhythmical vitality and inventiveness.

Allan Pettersson’s Symphony No. 15 is characterized by a high degree of tension right from the striking opening: brief, emphatic chords from horns and trombones above the tremolo of a side drum. Soon an expressive melodic subject is heard from the first violins, followed by contrasting rapid scales – at which point Pettersson has presented the greater part of the symphony’s building blocks. Like so many of the composer’s symphonies, the 15th is in one movement, but with clearly defined sections. It was completed in 1978, two years before Pettersson’s death, and was followed in 1979, by the sixteenth symphony, the last work that the composer submitted for performance. Only later did it become known that Pettersson had also been working on a Viola Concerto – a work that, if not fully completed, was so far advanced that it has been accepted as part of his œuvre. It is presented here by the Swedish violist Ellen Nisbeth, who also performs one of Pettersson’s very earliest compositions – a Fantaisie pour alto seul, dated June 1936, when the composer himself was about to embark on a career as violist. On this the tenth disc in their acclaimed Pettersson cycle, the Norrköping Symphony Orchestra and Christian Lindberg bring their combined expertise to bear on the orchestral scores.

Ülo Krigul studied in Tallinn and Vienna, and has written music in a wide variety of genres. Three works on the present release – And the Sea Arose, Aga vaata aina üles (‘But Look Always Up’) and liquid turns – were completed in 2019–20 when Krigul was composer-in-residence with the Estonian Philharmonic Chamber Choir. Linked by a common concept and the recycling of musical material, the three form a triptych-like set, here preceded by Vesi ise (‘Water Is’) from 2015. The latter is the first piece that Krigul wrote for the choir and its conductor Kaspars Putninš and includes ideas that has been carried over into their later collaboration. If Vesi ise here functions as a prelude, liquid turns is to an extent a summation of the program: the composer has sampled text and music from the two preceding works and random phrases interact and emerge as a new whole. Krigul has chosen his texts from the New Testament, the writings of the philosopher Uku Masing and the sound poetry of Ilmar Laaban.

Following a rock/metal album recorded with his band ORBI [BIS-2297], Bram van Sambeek returns with his own idea of a dance album. For it he has selected four works by Johann Sebastian Bach that consist mainly of typical baroque dances – but just as van Sambeek’s metal album wasn’t made for headbanging, Bach’s dances weren’t meant for dancing, but rather to be listened to. The album opens with van Sambeek’s own arrangement of the celebrated Partita in C minor for keyboard which he describes in his liner notes as one of his favorite works to listen to. The arrangement includes every note of the original keyboard part and is for no less than eight bassoons – all played by van Sambeek using multitrack recording technique. The idea for this came from having spent months in lockdown due to the pandemic: even though musicians were unable to play together, the urge to play actual harmonies persisted. Four movements from another keyboard work – the French Suite No. 5 – are also included on the disc, but as these are melodic rather than contrapuntal they have lent themselves to be arranged for a single voice. The remaining two works are the Flute Partita in A minor and Cello Suite No. 1, adding to an overall result which allows a new look on well-known works, with new nuances and colors.