This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.
Includes cantata(s) by Johann Sebastian Bach. Ensembles: Concerto Palatino Brass Ensemble, Bach Collegium Japan. Conductor: Masaaki Suzuki. Soloists: Gerd Türk, Peter Kooij, Yukari Nonoshita, Robin Blaze.

Classical Music

Classical Music

The second volume in what one hopes will be a complete Brahms piano music cycle from Jonathan Plowright charges from the starting gate with engines ablaze and fingers primed for action. In other words, behold the most incisive, dramatic, and multi-dimensional account of the composer’s Piano Sonata No. 2 on disc since Katchen and Arrau!

Part of the excitement lies in the pianist’s absolute rather than approximate observation of Brahms’ difficult-to-execute articulation marking in the first-movement exposition, the vivacity and point of his arpeggiated chords, and his ability to project the keyboard writing’s textural mass with minimum pedal and equal attention between registers. Using very little rubato, Plowright conveys the Andante’s “con espressione” largely through minute dynamic gradations and quality of touch. He makes effortless light of the Scherzo’s rapid broken chords while insightfully contouring the finale’s imitative right-hand writing against leaner than usual left-hand pedal-points. In the Op. 21 No. 1 Thema, Plowright’s straightforward tempo anchors all sorts of delicious inflections and altered voicings, although the variations themselves cohere by virtue of the pianist’s tightly-knit tempo relationships and relative simplicity from an expressive standpoint.

The three Op. 117 Intermezzi are no less masterful. Plowright plays No. 1 with a kind of classical understatment that avoids underlining the central section’s across-the-barline phrasings and lush harmonies. By contrast, No. 2 is measured, rounded, and more wistful in relation to the faster, business-like interpretations many younger pianists favor. Rather than veil No. 3’s unison opening in mystery, Plowright parks it in neutral, so to speak, with little hint at the more impassioned than usual major-key climax just around the bend.

If the Op. 4 Scherzo’s opening motive is not so characterfully spelled out as in the old Backhaus, Friedberg, and Kempff recordings, Plowright’s awesome legato control and supple rhythmic sense convey a lithe, elfin shimmer rarely heard in this score. Malcolm McDonald’s terrific booklet notes and BIS’s bracing surround-sound engineering are worthy of their own review. Even in a catalog packed to the rafters with great Brahms piano recordings, this stunning release should not be missed.

-- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Considering that Mozart's Divertimento in E-flat is far and away the greatest string trio ever written, and one of the unquestionable monuments of chamber music generally, it doesn't get the attention that it surely deserves from either record labels or collectors. Perhaps the dearth of regularly constituted string trios (as opposed to quartets) has something to do with it, but the fact remains that there is no greater testament to Mozart's genius than this epic, nearly 50-minute-long masterpiece in six movements that contains not a second that fails to rise to the highest level of textural gorgeousness and supreme melodic inspiration. Happily, most performances understand how special the music is, and give it their best effort.

This one is no exception. The Zimmerman Trio plays with remarkably accurate intonation and a ravishing tone that's also mindful of the Classical style. In other words, they don't lay it on too thick, but they aren't afraid to let the melodic lines sing in the big second-movement Adagio. Rhythms in the two minuets and the finale have a nice, sharp kick, and ensemble balances are just about perfect in terms of equality between parts. Grumiaux's ensemble, by contrast, tends to differentiate more strongly between melody and accompaniment, and this approach may in fact be a touch more historically correct (if anyone cares), but this is a subtle point.

Schubert's single-movement trio makes the perfect coupling. It seems to grow right out of the Mozart until the end of the exposition, when Schubert suddenly sails in with some typically arresting harmony. BIS's sonics, as usual, are really excellent: warm, natural, perfectly clear, but not so close as to capture the usual breathing and other performance noises. This is a magnificent recording.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

It’s reported that, after a Passion performance (composer unknown), an elderly noble widow exclaimed: ‘God save us, my children! It’s just as if we were at a comic opera.’ Though Bach never wrote an opera, he was no stranger to the genre. His cantatas reflect the recitative/aria structure and the Passion story provided the missing element, dramatic narrative. In the theatre of his imagination, Bach’s response matched anything staged by his secular contemporaries. The music is dramatic from the start: dissonant wind above nervous violins and pulsating bass, before the choir prays of the glory and pain of the Passion. Suzuki balances the layers beautifully: the dense texture, recorded fairly close, retains every detail. Türk’s narrative as Evangelist is accompanied by harpsichord, with organ added for the words of Jesus. He sings with dramatic insight, though without the theatrical sensitivity which sets my benchmark – Rolfe-Johnson’s offhand approach to less consequential moments exemplifies the visionary realism of Gardiner and his team. The chorus is a fearsome mob – indignant, angry, self-righteous in turn. As the Christian congregation, its chorales flow without sanctimonious pauses. The soloists are superb in their eight arias, each differently coloured. Orchestral playing is meticulous, the intonation exemplary, even in the wind-players’ B flat minor graveyard, as the soprano’s heart ‘melts in floods of tears’ (No. 35). My benchmark remains. But if you prefer reverence to dramatic realism, this outstanding achievement will surely be for you. Performance: 5 (out of 5), Sound: 5 (out of 5)

-- George Pratt, BBC Music Magazine

In these five sonatas from the 1760s, the period prior to C.P.E. Bach's departure from Frederick the Great's court in Berlin, we find some of his most attractive writing, in the opinion of Darrell M. Berg, author of the liner notes to this disc and general editor of the complete edition of the composer's works. The fabulous landscapes and high drama of so many earlier works (such as the Württemberg Sonatas on volumes 16 and 17 of this series) are left behind, as are the lyrical intimacy and simplicity of the so-called 'easy' sonatas. Or rather: these qualities are incorporated in the 'new' style and a certain synthesis is achieved. The result is a style featuring Bach's familiar energy and vivacity but with greater equilibrium, resulting in compositions we might - for want of a better term - call more 'classical'. Miklós Spányi has acquired a reputation as a leading interpreter and firm advocate of this music that stands between the Baroque and the Classical period, and which is less well-known than it deserves partly because of the difficulty of classifying it. He has here chosen to perform it on C.P.E. Bach's own favourite keyboard instrument, the clavichord. Spányi's ground-breaking work in this series, and in the parallel one of the same composer's keyboard concertos, will be familiar to many lovers of early keyboard music. It has been called 'a major contribution to recorded keyboard literature' in American Record Guide, to single out one single disc, Volume 17 of this series was selected as Editor's Choice in Gramophone, and described as 'the answer to clavichord fans' dreams'.

Classical Music

Along with Lars-Erik Larsson and Dag Wirén, Erland von Koch was part of a generation of composers who all made their débuts during the 1930s. Active until the end of a very long life (1910–2009), von Koch became one of Sweden’s best loved composers, himself describing his artistic goals as follows: ‘I aim for a simple, clear, melodic style, often with elements of folk tone and with a definite rhythmic profile... The older you get, the more aware you become of the importance of melody.’ One of von Koch’s most frequently performed orchestral works is Nordiskt capriccio, which was inspired by a folk tune from Dalecarlia, and which forms the festive finale on the present disc. The compositions which precede it here are less well known, however – Impulsi (the first part of a triptych later completed with the works Echi and Ritmi) was taken up by conductors such as Sergiu Comis­siona and Walter Weller, but the two symphonies appear for the first time on disc. Especially in Symphony No.3, influences from Bartók and Hindemith can be detected – composed in 1948, it is a work which in its thematic material contrasts defiance with lyricism and, finally, a feeling of release. Sinfonia seria, von Koch’s fourth work in the genre, followed a few years later, undergoing a final revision in 1962. As indicated by the title, the underlying mood of the work is grave and bittersweet – possibly this is reflected in the composer’s own words regarding the thankless task of writing symphonies: ‘They are rarely played – especially if they are Swedish – and it takes a long time before they are “discovered” and accepted, if indeed they ever are.’ With this disc, the Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra and conductor Per Hammarström are making their case for a hoped-for, and long overdue ‘discovery’ of Erland von Koch’s symphonies.

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

SCHUBERT Symphonies Nos. 3–5 • Thomas Dausgaard, cond; Swedish CO • BIS 1786 (80:58)

“Damn Schubert! He wrote two symphonies, one unfinished and the other endless!” Those remarks have been attributed to Joseph Leibovici, an exasperated violinist in the Boston Symphony Orchestra who reputedly uttered them years ago. Actually, depending upon whom you wish to believe, he wrote eight, nine, or 10 of them. With the demotion of the Symphony No. 7, D 729, to fragment status because Schubert never finished orchestrating it (orchestrations by Felix Weingartner and Brian Newbould have been recorded), the prevailing number has gone from nine to eight. There have been also those, including someone as reputable as Donald Tovey, who suspected that the so-called “Grand Duo,” D 812 is actually a piano score to a lost symphony written in Gmunden-Gastein to which Otto Deutsch, just in case, assigned the number D 849. Orchestrations by Joseph Joachim and Raymond Leppard have both been recorded but the manuscript, which still exists, is plainly titled “Sonate für Piano zu 4 Händen,” not “Symphony,” and the alleged symphony has never turned up.

The three symphonies on this CD were all written when Schubert was a teenager and he never heard them performed by a professional group. Although possibly influenced by current musicological practices and performed by what is designated as a “chamber orchestra,” these swift, beautifully recorded performances are not small-scaled by any means and the string players, if they don’t exactly pour it on, do make discreet use of vibrato. All repeats are observed. Those who, like me, have old scores, will note that Dausgaard skips the first repeat in the second movement of the Third Symphony, which was subsequently deemed to be not authentic. Older recordings, like Beecham’s, will observe it, but there’s no need to dump your Beecham recordings of the Third and Fifth—despite not being musicologically “hip,” they have charms all their own.

FANFARE: James Miller

BIS has conveniently packaged Neeme Järvi's epoch-making set of Eduard Tubin's complete symphonies, hopefully giving them a new lease on retail life. In case you haven't been paying attention over the past decade or so, these works constitute as fine a legacy of Scandinavian music as the symphonies of Sibelius or Nielsen. There are some extraordinary masterpieces here, including Nos. 3, 5, 6, and 8, and the performances are every bit as marvelous as the music. The only disappointment is the limply played and distantly recorded account of the serenely beautiful No. 4, taken from a live concert in Bergen, Norway, but it would be churlish to deny this important project the highest recommendation as a result of this one lapse. Fortunately, an excellent new version of the Fourth has just been released on Alba so it's easy to supplement this complete set with that one extra work, and be in Tubin heaven. Not to be missed! --David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

HENRI TOMASI; ANDRE JOLIVET; REOBERT PLANEL; ALFRED DESENCLOS OLE EDVARD ANTONSEN, TRUMPET; SAO PAOLO SYMPHONY ORCHESTRAOLGA KOPYLOVA, PIANO FRENCH TRUMPET CONCERTOS

Classical Music

When Fredrik Ullén released the first instalment of Sorabji's 100 Transcendental Etudes the excitement among reviewers was almost palpable. To take on this huge, near-mythic collection of super-virtuoso pieces in its entirety was described as 'entering a snake pit' as well as 'a labour of love'. And the high expectations were met: in the words of the reviewer for American Record Guide, the disc gave 'a taste of the incredible variety of music Sorabji can conjure up from the piano. It is to Ullén's credit that he can present each study on its own terms; whether in muted impressionist tones, sharp pointillistic flurries, or sheer demonic virtuosity.' Sorabji composed the set of 100 Transcendental Studies, his second longest work with a total duration of at least seven hours, between 1940 and 1944. Most of the pieces are typical concert études in the sense that essentially a single technical or structural idea is explored. But as the cycle unfolds Sorabji inserts pieces that are on a much larger scale, culminating with the two last études, a hugely expanded elaboration of Bach's Chromatic Fantasia and a quintuple fugue with a duration of some 45 minutes each. This development begins already at the start of the present disc. As Ullén remarks in his own liner notes, with Study No. 26 (Dolcissimo) 'we enter a different world. The first longer piece in the cycle is more of a fantasia or nocturne than an étude: a delicate piece of night music, with allusions to Debussy'. The programme then takes in such varied pieces as the playful No. 29 (A capriccio), the mysterious and eerie study in major sevenths, No. 30 (Con fantasia) and No. 36 (Mano sinistra sempre sola) - a grand étude for the left hand alone, which includes a fugue that, in Ullén's own words, 'in places borders on the physically impossible.'