Import Hybrid-SACD pressing.

Import Hybrid-SACD pressing.

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

'Consistently outstanding performances, musical beyond belief, and worthy of any collection' (MusicWeb International); 'Yet again a fine achievement, striking the right balance between deep contemplation and freshness of approach.' (International Record Review); 'The same thrillingly high standard as the whole series.' (Pizzicato); 'Suzuki and his Bach Collegium Japan continue to overwhelm us.' (Classica-Répertoire) – the list could go on and on! These quotes from all over the world apply to Volume 28 of Bach Collegium Japan's Cantata cycle, but the reception has repeated itself throughout this series. On the present, 33rd instalment Masaaki Suzuki has chosen to open with a jubilant New Year cantata, Jesu, nun sei gepreiset, first performed on 1 January 1725. Only a few weeks later BWV 92 was performed, exhorting the congregation of Bach's Thomaskirche in Leipzig to surrender to God’s will and God’s hand. In this unusually long cantata Bach pays special attention to creating variety, and illustrates the text with powerful musical images. The closing cantata is BWV130, composed for Michaelmas – a feast day in celebration of the Archangel Michael and all angels. Again a festive work, in which trumpets and timpani play an important part, notably in the bass aria ‘Der alte Drache brennt’, a display piece in which the trumpets play as if in combat with the ‘old dragon’. Here we also hear German bass singer Dominik Wörner, who with this disc makes a fortuitous début with the Bach Collegium Japan. He is joined by Jan Kobow, tenor, who has appeared before in the cycle, and regular soloists Yukari Nonoshita, soprano, and Robin Blaze, counter-tenor.

REVIEW:

Jean-Jacques Kantorow has recorded Saint-Saëns’s two other violin concertos on BIS 860, which I reviewed in 21:6 and on BIS 1060, which I also reviewed, in 25:5. In the first case, it seemed to me that Kantorow exaggerated rhythms “until they become irritating,” and, in the second, that he provided an attractive alternative to either Ruggiero Ricci or Philippe Graffin in this least initially ingratiating of Saint-Saëns’s violin concertos. Kantorow is aggressively piquant in the Third Concerto as well, but the competition’s stiffer, with Arthur Grumiaux having made two recordings of it and Nathan Milstein, one—in addition to Zino Francescatti’s legendary account, which the work’s admirers should find in equal parts more noble and less racy. While Kantorow slashes with abandon in the first movement and wheedles intimately in the second, he comes into his own in the third, exhibiting greater accentual restraint yet stunning technical aplomb in passagework that defies the notes’ assessment that those seeking traditional virtuosity in this work will be disappointed. As in the slow movement, he reveals the rich lyricism of the finale’s reflective interludes. Center stage, Graffin creates an impression of cogency in this last movement for which mannerisms in the headlong first movement and the occasionally languorous slow movement hardly prepare. The orchestral support, represented in resonant and wide-ranging recorded sound, buoys the soloist throughout, providing both moments of sensitive repose and sonorous bustle.

I’ve most frequently heard Eugène Ysaÿe’s transcription for violin and orchestra of Saint-Saëns’s solo piano étude in an arrangement for violin and piano. In orchestral garb, the work bears greater affinity to Saint-Saëns’s violin concertos; and although Kantorow’s reading may seem brittle compared with Oistrakh’s breathtaking one with pianist Vladimir Yampolsky, the orchestral accompaniment virtually transforms the piece, with the violin lighting the stratosphere with pyrotechnics against a colorful orchestral backdrop, all in the grand manner of Henri Vieuxtemps (Ysaÿe’s teacher). The Caprice andalous , which Dong Suk Kang included in his collection on Naxos 8.550752, 18:2 (which also included the Third Concerto—Kang’s performance of the Caprice, and of the Concerto, sounds especially refined and elegant after hearing Kantorow’s more urgent and slightly more mannered ones), seems to be Saint-Saëns’s most overtly Spanish number, although he had embodied Pablo Sarasate’s musical personality with greater or lesser success in the Havanaise and Introduction and rondo capriccioso as well as in the Third Concerto. The work’s ethnicity and its brilliant writing for the soloist, especially at the conclusion, may overcome for listeners any resistance to what they deem less immediately appealing thematic material. And certainly Kantorow makes the most of opportunities for display.

Just as BIS’s volume surrounding the First Concerto included the Sarabande for string orchestra, op. 93/1, and the recording of the Second Concerto included Spartacus and La muse et le poète for violin, cello, and orchestra, this third volume in what appears to be a series includes the more austere Prélude to Le déluge (in which Kantorow extracts from the orchestra a nostalgic sentiment that goes beyond the suggestive violin solo) and a rambustious performance by Heini Kärkkäinen of the Valse caprice , op. 76. As in the works for violin, the engineers have placed the soloist center stage, but the depth and definition of the orchestral sound ensures that the accompaniment never degenerates into a drop cloth merely catching splotches of color the soloist insouciantly sprinkles. The program concludes with the bumptious Allegro appassionato , op. 70, with bubbling high spirits at its center.

Although Kantorow’s reading of the first two movements of the Third Violin Concerto may seem just too headlong and too diffuse, respectively, for some listeners, the bracing third nearly redeems them, and the other two bravura works for violin (Ysaÿe’s in its stirring orchestral setting)—to say nothing of the additional pieces in affecting readings led stylishly by Kantorow and, in the last two, played brightly and energetically by Kärkkäinen—tip the balance in the recording’s favor. Recommended.

-- FANFARE (Robert Maxham)

Import Hybrid-SACD pressing.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

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

BIS' first-ever DVD is dedicated to one of the label's most charismatic and longest-standing artists: Christian Lindberg. It forms an extensive - 3h 40 minutes - portrayal of this multi-faceted musician who has since his début in 1984 almost single-handedly turned the trombone into a solo instrument.

VALEN Symphony No. 1. Violin Concerto. Sonetto di Michelangelo. Cantico di ringraziamento. Pastorale • Christian Eggen, cond; Elise Båtnes (vn); Stavanger SO • BIS 1522 (58:06)


One of the great pleasures of collecting recordings is the occasional discovery of an exciting, previously unknown, work. Well, here are five of them, by a composer that has been neglected for far too long. Norwegian composer Fartein Valen (1887–1952) may be, as one biography has it, “one of the few Norwegian composers with an international reputation,” but that doesn’t seem to be saying much. He was a modernist in a country much taken with its nationalist musical tradition and not particularly receptive to Valen’s innovations. His own apparent indifference to recognition and his withdrawal to the isolation of a rural farm for much of his creative life only added to his obscurity. One can hope this release, the first in a promised series of recordings of orchestral works from BIS will help to rectify this situation.


Valen studied with Max Bruch in Berlin and stayed to absorb the many other influences of that important musical capital in the second decade of the 20th century. He fell under the spell of Bach, Bruckner, and Brahms, but was also captivated by the progressives of that era, especially Arnold Schoenberg. When Schoenberg introduced his first works using serial techniques in the early 1920s, Valen was already home in Norway, developing his own type of serialism. It became the basis for all of his compositions written from 1925 on. Unlike Schoenberg, who developed a whole new theoretical system of music using tone rows of all 12 chromatic pitches, Valen worked intuitively and far less strictly. His point of departure was Bach’s rich polyphony, from which he developed comparably rich tone row-like chromatic melodies. Valen applied this technique of “dissonant counterpoint,” as he called it, in a variety of classic forms during the remainder of his career. The result is not the sometimes hard-edged dissonances of Schoenberg’s thornier scores. Rather, while there are no keys in Valen’s music, there is always a sense of vague tonality. The lines are incredibly long, but one never gets lost. There is a feeling of wandering, which is undoubtedly the desired effect. This is music of ambiguity and melancholy—a beautiful uncertainty which Valen packages in clear, familiar structures. It sounds vaguely like Berg, another important influence, but the overall effect is different.


Valen’s Symphony No. 1, op. 30 (1939), is, of course, classical in form. After a beginning of dark foreboding, the opening Allegro movement is tense and energetic, with moments of exaltation. El Greco’s painting Christ on the Mount of Olives is the inspiration for the second, Adagio, movement. The building of the line is ecstatic and the anguish palpable. The third movement provides contrast in the form of a playful scherzo and clouded trio before we are plunged back into the tensions of the rondo-form finale. It is an exhilarating journey.


The Violin Concerto, op. 37 (1940), is Valen’s most-played work and the one that finally brought him some recognition at its premiere in 1948. It was written as a memorial to his godson, Arne Valen, who had died of tuberculosis several years earlier. In it he expresses his profound sense of loss and his deep Christian faith, the latter especially in his use of the Bach chorale Jesu meine Zuversicht in the concluding section of the work. It bears a superficial similarity to the Berg Violin Concerto, of which Valen was aware, though he had not actually heard it. The work is intensely beautiful and deeply, often tenderly, moving.


The other works on the disc— Pastorale , op. 11 (1930), a meditation on his beloved rose garden, Sonetto di Michelangelo , op. 17/1 (1932), in which he contemplates the religious longing and pain in the great Italian artist’s poetry, and Cantico di ringraziamento , op. 17/2 (1932), in which Valen expresses Psalm-like thanksgiving in a beautifully constructed fugue—are equally rewarding experiences.


The Stavanger Symphony Orchestra, the excellent resident orchestra of Valen’s birthplace, has made a mission, on CD at least, of rescuing Norwegian composers from undeserved obscurity. Valen joins Geirr Tveitt and Harald Sæverud in their debt. Christian Eggen, who edited the often-faulty published scores to restore Valen’s intentions, is well known in Scandinavia for his performances of contemporary music. He conducts with admirable strength and sensitivity. Elise Båtnes, one of the foremost violinists of Norway, plays the difficult, soaring lines of the Concerto with silvery tone and great concentration. The recorded sound is very fine and the documentation excellent. This is not music of loud affirmation and major-key celebration. Look elsewhere for that. This is music of great emotional depth and asks a fair amount of the listener. It rewards in kind. Highly recommended with that caveat.


FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames

Classical Music

Import Hybrid-SACD pressing.

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

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

Classical Music

Import Hybrid-SACD pressing.

Classical Music

Classical Music

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

BEETHOVEN Piano Concertos: in E?, WoO 4 (reconst. Brautigam); No. 2 in B?. Rondo in B? • Ronald Brautigam (pn); Andrew Parrott (cond); Norrköping SO • BIS 1792 (58:04)


Few piano recording buffs will have missed the remarkable career trajectory of Dutch pianist Ronald Brautigam. Particularly since his association with the Swedish label BIS began in 1995, the releases don’t seem to quit. Now in his mid-fifties, it’s natural that Brautigam should be at the peak of his powers. His recorded repertoire, if not catholic, demonstrates a healthy musical curiosity. Canonic figures are amply represented alongside those less frequently encountered: Haydn and Mozart with Joseph Martin Kraus; Mendelssohn with Gade; Shostakovich and Hindemith with Duruflé, Martin, and Hahn. But it’s not Brautigam’s enviable technical polish that sets him apart from many of his colleagues, nor his lofty musical grasp. It is his individuality. He has a searching musical intelligence, a disarming self-effacement before the score, and an astonishing conscientiousness that, in combination, make him sound like no one else. Witness, for instance, his complete Haydn set, some 15 discs (BIS 1731) representing essentially all the master’s solo keyboard works currently known, recorded over five years, beginning in 1998. Here the same care and imagination are lavished on the earliest experimental sonatas from the lean, free-lance years that are accorded the mature works representing the summit of Haydn’s achievement. Finally, Brautigam has the uncanny ability to turn in consummate performances, equally compelling in stylistic terms, whether he plays replicas of historical instruments or the modern concert grand. In this aspect he seems an entirely new type of pianist. His on-going Beethoven project with BIS, demonstrates this parallel track aptitude with stunning artistic results: the sonatas are being recorded on period-appropriate fortepiano replicas, while the concertos are played on the modern piano, fully informed by cutting-edge performance practice.


Following the release of the First and Third Concertos (BIS 1692) last year, Brautigam and Parrot turn their attention to the earliest known works of Beethoven for piano and orchestra. Only a manuscript of the piano solo part of the E? Concerto survives, dating from around 1784. Fortunately for posterity, Beethoven incorporated the orchestral tutti into the piano part, along with some subsequent editorial changes. Thus a speculative reconstruction of the lost orchestral score is possible, based on the composer’s unusual instrumentation (calling for strings with two flutes and two horns, but no oboes or bassoons). The reconstruction recorded here is Brautigam’s own, as are the candenzas for both WoO 4 and the Rondo. (Beethoven’s 1809 cadenzas are used in the Concerto No. 2.)


Given its sparse representation in the catalogs, the E? Concerto is of special interest. Little in this charming piece suggests that it is the creation of a 13-year-old. Brautigam brings an air of naive exuberance to the difficult solo part; the delicate fiorituras of the Larghetto are breathtakingly poetic. Here, in Brautigam’s superbly reconstructed orchestral score, as indeed throughout the recording, Parrott and the Norrköping musicians are responsive partners of remarkable sensitivity. Moreover, in the Rondo of No. 2, the give-and-take between soloist and orchestra is nothing short of sublime, imbued with an exhilaration that’s utterly infectious. It follows an Adagio of ethereal tenderness. Without doubt, this is the most dynamic, shapely, and vivid recording of the Beethoven Second one is ever likely to hear. It’s worth mentioning that the Steinway D used here, with lid removed, was placed in the middle of the orchestra, continuo style, which does a lot to explain both the cohesive ensemble and the beautifully blended sound of the recording.


Comparisons? This canonic repertoire boasts more than a few canonic interpretations—Schnabel’s revelatory musicality, Rubinstein’s aristocratic poise, Serkin’s modest edginess, and the lofty humanism of Backhaus come immediately to mind. Let me put it this way, without any denigration of artists whom I respect and admire immensely: listening to two recent wonderful Beethoven cycles, those of Plentnev with Gansch and the Russian National O (DG) and Goode with Fischer and the Budapest Festival O (Nonesuch), I hear the glorious recent past, ripe, insightful, often brilliant, immensely pleasurable; listening to Ronald Brautigam, Andrew Parrott, and the Norrköping SO, I hear the future.


FANFARE: Patrick Rucker

Ronald Brautigam is an excellent Beethoven pianist, and he turns in a performance of the Second concerto's solo part that's as lively and attractive as anyone has yet recorded on a modern instrument. It's especially nice to hear the finale taken at a tempo that permits all of the main theme's rhythmic bounce to register without it ever sounding breathless or frantic. The same holds true of the Rondo in B-flat, the Second concerto's original finale. Indeed, the only caveat in these performances concerns the slow movements, where Andrew Parrott, evidently with the acquiescence of his soloist, encourages the orchestra to indulge in that dry, vibrato-less string tone that is the very opposite of stylishness (and utterly contrary to what their own sources say about sustained lyrical music in slow tempos).

The E-flat concerto is an early work in Mozartian style, here very nicely reconstructed by Brautigam from the existing piano score. Indications of scoring in the keyboard part point to an orchestra of strings, two flutes, and two horns, a very unusual combination, and I'm not convinced that two oboes ought not to have been added as a matter of course. Still, there's no denying the distinctive tone color that the absence of double reeds gives the work's overall sonority, and it would be hard to imagine a more sympathetic performance than this one (never mind Parrott and his scratchy strings). I look forward to further releases in this (so far) very rewarding edition.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

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

During the period from which these three cantatas come, Bach no longer presented a new cantata of his own every Sunday. Instead he made extensive use of compositions by others, including his own second cousin Johann Ludwig Bach, court composer at Meiningen. In several instances, Bach also reused texts set by Johann Ludwig for his own compositions, including two of the cantatas here, Brich dem Hungrigen dein Brot and Es wartet alles auf dich. Both of these follow a pattern which falls into two parts, with the opening text of each section being taken from the Old and the New Testament respectively. The third cantata, Gelobet sei der Herr, mein Gott, is also unusual in its structure, in that it utilizes five strophes of a single hymn, word for word. The hymn strophes are respectively used for an opening chorus, three arias and a closing chorale, with the first and fifth movement - resplendently scored with trumpets and timpani - utilizing the same hymn melody, although in very different ways. The three arias (for bass, soprano and alto) are more intimate in size, but also highly varied, addressing in turn Christ, the Holy Spirit and the full Trinity. The disc closes with a movement for solo violin and orchestra, thought to be an opening sinfonia for an unknown cantata. It is possibly a late arrangement of an early work, as the highly virtuosic solo part seems to suggest influences from the Italian violin concertos that were making such an impact in Germany during the first decades of the 18th century. With this disc the cantata series of Bach Collegium Japan and Masaaki Suzuki reaches its 45th instalment, to ever-growing acclaim, as exemplified by a recent review regarding Volume 42: 'a recording which shows Suzuki maturing along with Bach ... another fine instalment in this most consistent of series' (International Record Review).

Haydn composed more than twenty operas, mainly for the sumptuous theatre at Eszterháza, the palace of his long-time employers, the princes of Esterházy. Even so, his work in the operatic field remains largely neglected. This disc focuses on an even more closely guarded secret: the so-called 'insertion arias' that Haydn wrote for inclusion in operas by other composers. The rarely, if at all, recorded music includes Haydn's three contributions to La Circe, an opera pasticcio which combined music by several composers, and six of the surviving insertion arias. Among these is Infelice sventurata, written for an opera by Cimarosa, and one of Haydn's finest arias, here movingly performed by Miah Persson. The Swedish soprano shares the greater part of the programme with the Swiss tenor Bernard Richter. The latter in Ah, tu non senti, amico takes on what, according to the initiated liner notes of conductor and Haydn specialist Manfred Huss, 'may be the highest drama in eighteenth-century music - ghostly and spine-chilling in a Hitchcockian manner.' In contrast, Huss describes the concluding tercet from La Circe as 'a tremendously witty and energetic and also dramatic scene that sounds like Mozart - or perhaps even like Rossini'. This varied programme thus becomes an illustration of Mozart's verdict on Haydn as an opera composer: 'Nobody can do all of this - flirt and unsettle, provoke laughter and deep emotions - as well as Haydn!' It is presented by Manfred Huss and his period band Haydn Sinfonietta Wien as part of a Haydn bicentenary celebration, which includes four previous, highly acclaimed releases. The opera fragment Acide (BIS-SACD-1812) was called 'a wonderful tribute to Joseph Haydn' by the reviewer of MusicWeb International, who also found Bernard Richter 'outstanding' in the title role. The review of the marionette opera Philemon und Baucis (BIS-SACD-1813) on ClassicsToday.com described the work as 'exceptionally moving stuff, full of Sturm und Drang, with ... music of substantial humanity and warmth.' And the playing of Haydn Sinfonietta Wien on the two collections of overtures (BIS-CD-1818) and chamber works (BIS-CD-1796/98) has been unanimously praised: 'the ideal interpreters for these works' (Pizzicato) and 'sensational... lively tempos, gutsy brass and timpani, perky winds, and stunning music' (ClassicsToday.com).

Classical Music

Classical Music