Zhou Long, born 1953 in Beijing, came to the US in the 1980s and studied at Columbia University with composers Chou Wen-Chung and Mario Davidovsky, among others. Prior to this release, two collections of his chamber music have been reviewed in Fanfare—one by myself in 22:5, and one by Peter Burwasser in 19:1. Both of us were attracted to the composer’s ability to blend the sonorities of Chinese and Western instruments and devise convincing formal designs that drew from both musical cultures. In “limiting” himself to a Western orchestra (except for additional and varied percussion) in this program, he has in a sense set himself a greater challenge, and succeeds admirably.

What impresses most about these four works are the breadth of orchestral colors Zhou manipulates, and how the musical drama grows directly out of those colors. The four Poems from Tang, for example, are purely instrumental evocations of Tang Dynasty (AD 618–907) poems (printed in English translation in the booklet), where sounds of nature as well as intimations of mist, clouds, flames, and dreams emerge within fugitive rustling, burbling, and murmuring timbres, in contrast with full ensemble passages reminiscent of Stravinsky’s orchestral palette in The Firebird. Moreover, the rhythmic insistence of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring appears to have influenced Zhou in the remaining works; in The Rhyme of Taigu an expanded percussion section not only adds haunting colors and textures but provides an energetic, repetitious rhythmic impetus, and Da Qu, which isolates Jonathan Fox’s bells, vibraphone, and gongs against an orchestra that threatens to erupt from tranquil to volatile, near chaotic, expression in the blink of an eye, is even more exotic and vibrant. (Note to solo percussionists and adventurous orchestras: this work has great audience-wowing potential.) Even the brief transformation of a Shaanxi love song, mixed with Zhou’s recollection of farmers burning their fields, in The Future of Fire builds to thunderous Rite-like climaxes.

BIS’s engineering captures the wide dynamic range of the music vividly, and conductor Lan Shui and the Singapore musicians present everything in the best possible light.

Art Lange, FANFARE

Classical Music

Classical Music

Click here to view all 13 volumes of The Sibelius Edition



SIBELIUS Songs (complete) • Helena Juntunen (sop); Anne Sofie von Otter (mez); Monica Groop (mez); Dan Karlström (ten); Gabriel Suovanen (bar); Jorma Hynninen (bar); Bengt Forsberg (pn); Love Derwinger (pn); Folke Gräsbeck (pn) • BIS 1918 (5 CDs: 356:21 Text and Translation)


The foldout box housing this set bears the block letter “I” on its spine, signifying the exact midpoint of BIS’s Sibelius Edition; this is Volume 7, and the arrayed volumes, which also continue to unfold the gorgeous nature photo shown as a wrap-around on each box, now spell out “JEAN SI” on the shelf. As we have come to expect from the Edition, this volume of songs with piano can almost be described as “more than complete.” Sibelius published about 100 songs altogether: 84 in 16 opus-numbered groups, and another 16 or so without opus number. In addition, BIS also includes Sibelius’s own arrangements for voice and piano of a number of works originally written for voice and orchestra, as well as fragments of early songs not completed, unpublished songs recently discovered, and, as an Appendix to the volume (disc 5), alternative or preliminary versions of over a dozen others. The core of the collection consists of the contents of three previously issued BIS CDs: BIS 457 and 757, with von Otter and Forsberg, recorded in 1989 and 1994–95; and, BIS 657, with Groop and Derwinger, recorded in 1994. Almost all of the remaining items were recorded in 2008, and are making their first appearance here.


The great majority of Sibelius’s songs are set to Swedish poems; not only did Sweden have a much greater literary tradition than Finland did, but Swedish was also the composer’s first language. Sibelius’s favorite poet, judging by his choice of texts, was Johan Ludvig Runeberg, a nature poet whom Barnett calls “Finland’s national poet”; about a quarter of the songs are Runeberg settings. Sibelius did not begin writing songs until 1887 or 1888, toward the end of his student years, so this volume does not include the large number of student works and exercises found in the Chamber Music, Piano Music, and Violin and Piano volumes (Vols. 2, 4, and 6, respectively). He tended to write songs sporadically in groups through much of his career: after the initial burst of 1888–92, periods of activity in song composition included the years around the turn of the century, when Sibelius produced the last few of the Seven Songs, op. 17, and all of opp. 36–38, about 20 songs in all, including most of his best-known; and, the years 1908–11, the time of the Fourth Symphony, and a period in which Sibelius endured repeated surgeries resulting from an incorrect diagnosis of throat cancer. The last major group of songs comes from the World War I years, when he and his family faced great financial difficulties and of necessity he wrote mostly miniatures. Among these are the four groups of six songs each, opp. 72 (the first two of which are lost), 86, 88, and 90, his last bearing an opus number.


In all, von Otter sings about half the songs, including the two sets of Runeberg songs, opp. 13 and 90, that form bookends of Sibelius’s “official” song canon. Her warm, rich mezzo suits well many of the “Romantic” songs of opp. 17, 36, and 37, but she is also appropriately animated in the lighter, salonish German songs of op. 50, and in complete control in the op. 3 Arioso , a work of 1911 that Sibelius had to pass off as an early composition when he offered it to a local publisher instead of Breitkopf und Härtel, his usual publisher. BIS gives no word on why von Otter was not entrusted with the remaining items.


Groop, also a mezzo, has a less seductive sound than von Otter; then again, she is given relatively less rewarding repertoire: the Five Christmas Songs , op. 1 (again a misleading opus number), the bleak op. 57 songs of 1909, the extant four from op. 72—a polyglot mixture of the usual Swedish with one Finnish and one German setting—and, probably the finest of the batch, the six songs of op. 86. Most of these are rarely performed, and while I prefer von Otter’s singing, Groop’s performances are certainly more than adequate.


The two singers recently recorded in the remaining sets are a treat. Soprano Juntunen expresses a wide range of moods in the demanding Five Songs , op. 38, the darkest and most ambitious of the turn-of-the-century songs; she also impressively reprises her Volume 1 performance of Luonnotar in Sibelius’s own voice-and-piano arrangement. She shares with baritone Suovanen the Two Songs , op. 35, of 1908, perhaps the most musically radical of Sibelius’s works in this format. Suovanen sings both versions of the two songs from 12th Night , op. 60, the original with guitar and Sibelius’s arrangement with piano, and is most impressive in the Eight Songs , op. 61, of 1910. These are small tone-pictures with elaborate piano parts that do much to set the mostly dark moods; Suovanen easily manages the songs’ difficult tessitura, sometimes bringing to mind the young Fischer-Dieskau. He is also brilliant in Sibelius’s voice-piano version of The Rapids-Rider’s Brides . BIS has introduced other terrific new baritones, notably Tommi Hakala, but Suovanen is definitely one to watch! Tenor Karlström makes only three brief appearances, but acquits himself well; Hynninen, a veteran of the Edition, makes a cameo appearance in the preliminary versions of three of the op. 13 songs.


There should have been an elephant in the room, in the person of Tom Krause, whose complete set of the “canonical” Sibelius songs was issued on a five-LP set by Argo in the early 1980s, and appeared again on Decca CDs in 2004. To my shock, I found that this set is no longer available. Krause, whose musicianship had grown immeasurably since his 1963 single disc of Sibelius songs, would be a formidable rival in a number of these songs, several of which are really better suited to male voice because of the texts; and, the clearly “female” songs in the set were done by the imposing team of Elisabeth Söderström and Vladimir Ashkenazy. If you have, or can find, the Decca, odds are that, like me, you will prefer Krause in some items and von Otter in others.


As in previous volumes, BIS gives an insightful essay by Barnett (in five languages); texts in the original language and English translation; and, the five discs for the price of three. Owners of the Decca set may still want this if they’re really serious about Sibelius’s songs; both sets offer many beauties and many insightful performances. Hard-core Sibelians will want this for the material that is not included in the earlier set—mostly because the manuscripts had not yet come to light. Collectors who have been acquiring volumes of The Sibelius Edition all along need no further urging at this stage.


FANFARE: Richard A. Kaplan

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.

The partnership between BIS and Finnish composer Kalevi Aho is a most fruitful one, as our survey of this composer’s work amply demonstrates. The most recent additions to Aho’s growing discography include a massive orchestral work premiered on a mountainside – Symphony No. 12 ‘Luosto’ – and the smaller-scale but no less compelling Symphony No.14 ‘Rituaaleja’. Happily, Osmo Vänskä – who had already moved to Minnesota – returned to Finland to record the two works on this new disc. He certainly knows this composer’s sound-world better than anyone, his long relationship with the Lahti orchestra cemented by their earlier, much-praised Sibelius cycle for BIS.

This new concerto, commissioned by the Mänttä Music festival’s artistic director Niklas Pokki, was written with Finnish pianist Antti Siirala in mind. Unaccountably I’ve not heard this soloist before, although he’s already collected a clutch of major awards. So, how does he fare, and how does this 21st-century concerto sound? It’s rather intimate – the pianist is accompanied by just 20 string players – and on first acquaintance the quicksilver writing reminded me of Prokofiev. That did surprise me, as the composer’s liner-notes make mention of Siirala’s prowess in a rather different musical tradition, that of Beethoven, Liszt and Brahms. However, that apparent dichotomy is soon resolved, with writing – and playing – that will certainly bring that illustrious trio to mind.

The three movements, played without a break, have a wonderful; rhapsodic character, the BIS engineers capturing Siirala’s warm, natural pianism very well indeed. And yes, even though one might detect a Brahmsian flavour at times – sample the passage that begins at 3:00 – there’s a strong, very individual voice here, any stylistic snatches welded into an entirely original and convincing whole. As for the strings, they soften the music’s edges, bringing out a wonderful sense of wistfulness in quieter passages. Just sample the gentle rain of sound that Siirala conjures up at 7:59 in the second movement, the string playing that follows Straussian in its weight and quiet stoicism. The Lahti forces are glorious, full, warm and beautifully blended.

And while the final movement strikes a distinctly Brahms/Beethoven pose at the start, the quirkier writing that follows seem closer to Prokofiev. Siirala delights in the glittering melodies, which he dashes off with aplomb, the strings adding their strange, tangential harmonies to the mix. This concerto is both elusive and refreshing; also it’s piqued my interest in this most talented pianist, who I’d especially like to hear in core 19th- and 20th-century repertoire.

Symphony No. 13, commissioned to celebrate the fifth anniversary of Lahti’s Sibelius Hall, makes use of the building’s unique acoustics. In his liner-notes Aho points out that various instruments are directed to play in the lighting gallery, the echo chambers and the choir. Listeners may remember he experimented with instruments and singers in the same hall in an effort to reproduce the spatial effects of ‘Luosto’, his outdoor symphony. Speaking of subtitles, the 13th has one too, ‘Symphonic Characterizations’. Cast in two movements, it depicts a range of human traits. Again, listeners may be reminded of the composer’s anthropomorphic ~ and highly entertaining – Insect Symphony (No. 7).

The different instrumental placements and varying acoustics, evident from the outset, probably work very well in the hall itself, but I’m not convinced the intended effects are that apparent here. Perhaps this would have sounded more striking as a multi-channel SACD – as was the case with ‘Luosto’. That said, there’s no denying the sinewy orchestration and constant momentum of the piece, which yokes together a whole range of conflicting moods – imperioso, semplice, malinconico, aristocratico, morbido and calcolatore. It’s an interesting conceit, but listeners may feel – as I do – that these labels aren’t pivotal to one’s enjoyment of the symphony as a whole.

Once again, I was struck by the composer’s economy of style, which creates music of chamber-like lucidity and concentration. The allure lies not so much in the overall picture but in the daubs that make up this larger orchestral canvas. In some ways the work’s discrete inner dialogues make it seem more like a concerto for orchestra than a symphony. Even in the second movement, with its emphasis on baser emotions, the percussion and brass are sparingly used, the various instrumental colours and timbres captured with commendable crispness and clarity. Just listen to the shimmering tam-tam at 5:00, it’s so wonderfully tactile.

New Aho recordings are always a cause for celebration, and this one is no exception. Of the two works here the concerto probably has the broadest appeal; it’s inventive without being perverse, and effortlessly tuneful without ever sounding anodyne. Many of the same qualities come through in the symphony as well, but if you really want to hear this composer at the height of his powers I’d suggest you try the more recent Symphony No. 14.

Not the best introduction to this discreet, ever-fascinating composer’s œuvre – the early symphonies would be a better place to start – but a must-hear for those who already own the other works in this excellent cycle.

-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

Classical Music

'The majority of my symphonies are tombstones' - these words by Shostakovich are quoted by conductor Mark Wigglesworth in the liner notes to his fifth disc of Shostakovich's Symphonies on BIS. Symphony No. 13, subtitled 'Babi Yar', is a case in point. Shostakovich explicitly stated that he wanted the Symphony - and in particular it's first movement - to be a monument over the 100.000 Jews slaughtered at a ravine called Babi Yar outside of Kiev in 1941. Not just a monument, however: the Symphony was also intended as an indictment against the anti-Semitism that had been brought to its height during the Nazi era, but which also flourished in post-war Soviet Union, with the result that Babi Yar and other atrocities were kept secret by the authorities. This silence was deeply upsetting to Shostakovich, and when he read Yevgeny Yevtushenko's poem Babi Yar, he decided to set it to music. 'I cannot not write it!', he said to a friend. Shostakovich had originally only intended to set this one poem by Yevtushenko, but deciding to create a larger-scaled work he chose four more texts for what was to become a symphony in five movements. As Mark Wigglesworth writes, these poems 'reveal a huge kaleidoscope of Russian events, emotions and ideas.' In the realization of this kaleidoscope, Wigglesworth has the support of bass soloist Jan-Hendrik Rootering, the men of the Netherlands Radio Choir, and - of course - the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra, with which the previous instalment in this series, Symphony No. 8 (BIS-SACD-1483), was recorded, to critical acclaim. The reviewer of BBC Music Magazine put it in the following way: 'Mark Wigglesworth ... stretches the playing of the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic to its very impressive limits and remains the finest Shostakovich interpreter of his generation', describing the result as 'a performance which always gives us the full measure of this traumatic masterpiece.'

Piano transcription buffs will have a field day with no less than 11 Minute Waltz arrangements from the heyday of romantic pianist/composers, plus 10 more similarly gussied-up Chopin compositions. Moritz Moskowski, Rafael Joseffy, Moritz Rosenthal, and Isadore Philipp each serve up the famous D-flat Waltz's running melody in thirds, but with varied embellishments elsewhere. Aleksander Michalowski adds a bravura introduction, while another Philipp study assigns the waltz to the left hand. Leopold Godowsky's lovely, lily-gilding harmonization points the way toward Sorabji's two surreal, hallucinatory pastiches. Reger's recasting builds the waltz from the bass register up, alongside four other studies that elaborate upon the Op. 42 and Op. 64 No. 2 Waltzes, A-flat Impromptu, and double-thirds etude (here played in sixths). Joseffy subjects the "Black-Key" Etude to thankless, double-note treatment, just as Brahms sets the Op. 25 No. 2 etude's flowing right hand melody as sixths. By contrast, Alfred Cortot's solo setting of the Largo from Chopin's Cello Sonata is simplicity itself. For droll, lightweight "Chopin meets Jazz", check out Louis Gruenberg's two Jazz Masks and Joe Furst's Showpan Boogie. The sleeper among the Minute Waltz contenders, however, is Giuseppi Ferrata's ingenuous transcription, with its deft register displacements, booming left-hand octave sequences, and subtle dramatic build. Fredrik Ullén must have practiced all these finger-twisters to the bone. He makes them sound utterly easy, and plays with, rather than playing at, the music. Who said Romantic pianism is a lost art? Not here it ain't. Lastly, Ullén plays Chopin's pure, unadulterated Minute Waltz as is, with no frills or add-ons. I write these words just hours after listening to this disc several times. My ears are still smiling. --Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

With the 2005 release of his first recording for BIS Records, Yevgeny Sudbin catapulted into the pages of the international music press. The disc was a Scarlatti recital that prompted reviewers worldwide to compare the then 24-year old pianist in the most flattering terms to Scarlatti experts such as Horowitz and Pletnev. It went on to receive a long list of distinctions, including an Editor’s Choice in Gramophone, with an accompanying review which described it as ‘among the finest, certainly most enjoyable of all Scarlatti recitals’. Since then, Sudbin and BIS have enjoyed a highly successful collaboration, resulting in numerous acclaimed recordings of both solo programmes and concertos
To celebrate the past 10 years, a new Scarlatti recording seemed the obvious choice as the perfect anniversary present – to ourselves, and of course to all Sudbin fans and Scarlatti lovers. In short: Sudbin met up with Marion Schwebel, the recording producer with whom he has collaborated from the very beginning, for recording sessions in the silken acoustics of St George’s in Bristol. The results can be heard on this new disc: 18 sonatas selected from the total of 555 – a collection compared in Sudbin’s own liner notes to ‘a necklace which breaks, producing a resounding hail of glistening pearls, rolling around and bouncing about like precious bubbles of watery beauty.’

MOZART OGRINTCHOUK; BROVTSYN; RYSANOV; BLAUMANE; LITHUANIAN C.O. MUSIC FOR OBOE

Mozart's string quintets, and particularly the last four (K 515, K 516, K 593 and K 614) are often cited as being among the finest examples of his chamber music. The musicologist Charles Rosen has drawn attention to the fact that the quintets always appeared shortly after the completion of a series of quartets, as if the medium represented a more ideal and final realisation of the composer’s musical thoughts. It is not, however, a question of quartets with a fifth, ‘extra’ part. Even the early K174 possesses a striking complexity, and as a group the quintets employ a great variety of textures: dialogues between two instruments with three-part accompaniment from the others, the alternation of two string trios (two violins and viola or two violas and cello), or violin duets, alongside viola duets, accompanied by the cello. The performances of these intricate masterworks by the Orlando Quartet and Nobuko Imai, have been highly regarded ever since their original releases and were for instance described as 'magisterial and gripping' on AllMusic.com. They now appear in this box set, accompanied by a fourth disc which brings together three further Mozart quintets for varying constellations: the charming Horn Quintet from 1782, the extraordinary Clarinet Quintet from seven years later and the Quintet for piano and winds which Mozart in a letter to his father in 1784 described as 'the best thing I have written so far'. Performing these works here are eminent musicians including Radovan Vlatkovic, Martin Fröst and Stephen Hough.

Composer: Mahler, Gustav Lyricist: Bethge, Hans Arranger: Schoenberg, Arnold Conductor: Vanska, Osmo Ensemble: Sinfonia Lahti Chamber Ensemble Artist: Groop, Monica; Silvasti, Jorma