BR Klassik
192 products
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Respighi: Lauda per la Nativita del Signore; Frontini: Sizil
$19.99CDBR Klassik
Oct 03, 2025BRK900533 -
Carissimi: Jonas; Monteverdi & Lasso
$19.99CDBR Klassik
Jan 02, 2026BRK900535 -
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Papandopulo: Hrvatska misa
$19.99CDBR Klassik
Sep 19, 2025BRK900532 -
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Mozart: Gran Partita; Cannabich: Sinfonia concertante
$19.99CDBR Klassik
Apr 03, 2026BRK900358 -
Frano Parac: Judita
$19.99CDBR Klassik
Oct 10, 2025BRK900357 -
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Rihm: Jagden und Formen / Ollu, Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra
Adámek: Follow Me - Where are You? / Kožená, Faust, Rattle, Bavarian Radio Symphony
Born in Prague in 1979, the composer, conductor and chorus master Ondrej Adámek, who studied in his Czech hometown and in Paris, has already won numerous prestigious awards for his orchestral, chamber, vocal and electro-acoustic music. In his musical language, which also repeatedly incorporates elements of distant cultures, he creates unusual musical narratives. He seeks the authenticity of his interpretations by combining voices and movements, gestures and theatricality, phonetic and semantic aspects, and his own specially developed musical instruments. The premieres of Ondrej Adámek's "Where are You?" and "Follow me" were distinctive for their excellent casts, featuring stars such as Magdalena Kožená, Isabelle Faust and Simon Rattle. In Adámek’s "Follow me", a three-movement concerto for violin and orchestra, the melodies are divided between the soloist and the orchestra along the lines of the late medieval hocket technique, whereby the composer seeks to connect a single individual with a (human) crowd. The first performance of Adámek’s "Where are You?" for mezzo-soprano and orchestra was an outstanding event in Munich's concert programme this year. In the eleven-part, approximately 35-minute-long kaleidoscope of sound, dominated by constant motoric movement – ranging from everyday sounds such as the monotonous ticking of a clock to the sweeping, electrifyingly rhythmic pounding of the orchestra tutti – the composer embarks on a search for the human ("Where do we come from and where are we going?") and the divine.
Review
This is music that grabs the listener by the ears and doesn’t let go. I found it completely exhilarating.
Nothing about either score included on this recording is remotely derivative or even predictable. If I were to say that it is as if Adámek had smashed up all previous music into tiny pieces and then reconstructed them into something marvellous and new, that might give the impression that he is some kind of arch post modernist. He is nothing of the sort. Almost miraculously he manages to be both uncompromisingly modernist and yet intensely communicative. Try his setting of what, in effect amounts to St Theresa’s ecstatic, religious orgasm in the seventh song of Where Are You? and what you’ll get is music that verges on the demented but which manages to be deeply spiritual and very sexy! Both scores are full of such wild, rude, exultant moments.
Follow Me is simultaneously a violin concerto and someone having a lot of fun with what a violin concerto might mean. I am not aware of another concerto that concludes with what amounts to a musical lynching of the soloist by the orchestra. One of the characteristics of Adámek’s writing is his absolute command of even the most outré material. Every note delivers an aural punch. He is of course capable of writing music of great delicacy, as in the concerto’s Bach derived slow movement but even here every note makes its point.
The opening movement features orchestral soloists echoing the opening phrases by the solo violin (the ‘follow me’ of the work’s title), phrases the composer explains in his joyous, quixotic note that were inspired by the exaggerated vibrato of a singer in Japanese Noh theatre. The orchestra, in a sense, gathers round the soloist, repeating her phrases. Isabelle Faust is at her imperious best here. This then subsides into silence before the soloist starts again with more seductive phrases. As Adámek puts it, these phrases provoke the orchestra “eventually driving them mad”. This builds and builds as the various motifs combine and recombine. The tension generated by the gradually gathering of tempo and volume is quite ferocious before Adámek pulls the rug from under the expected eruption and the movement ends with weird whistlings and scrapings out of which the slow movement evolves. A great strength of Adámek’s music is to unsettle the listener whilst keeping them on the edge of their seat.
One of the unifying techniques across all three movements of this concerto is what Adámek likens to a kind of musical ping pong where melodies are split, in alternate notes, between soloist and members of the orchestra. This effect plus an extreme elongation of material taken from Bach is most noticeable in this slow movement. It is a strange and mysterious movement that subsides into the uneasy calm from it emerged.
On a purely technical level, the finale combines all the elements of the previous two movements but that scarcely does justice to the effect it has on the listener. The shadowing of the soloist which gives the work its title is allowed finally to work its way from a hushed, fugitive opening all the way to the mighty climax that the opening movement was robbed of. As in that movement, the following of the soloist by the orchestra becomes more combative- a wry nod I think to the lion taming tradition of the 19th century virtuoso concerto – and the music, dominated by a rogue trombone, constantly threatens to swamp the soloist whose final phrases are delivered off stage before a final thrilling orchestral stampede rounds things off. Is that a tongue in cheek reference to the final sacrificial dance of the Rite of Spring I hear in this final passage? What this description may not capture is that this is all immensely diverting and colossal fun. The world of Adámek’s music may be capable of great seriousness but it never takes itself too seriously.
Follow Me is, in many ways, the curtain raiser for the even more remarkable Where Are You? My earlier comments have probably already given some indication of what it is like. Written for mezzo soprano and orchestra, it is a song cycle on spiritual themes with texts from the Bible, the Gita and the autobiography of St Theresa. None of this is handled in a conventional manner. The opening section revels in the vowel sounds of the opening line of the Lord’s Prayer in Aramaic. A later movement sets possible Czech translations of those Aramaic words. It’s that sort of piece! The theme that unites these disparate elements is the way in which the spiritual quest for the divine however how high it can raise us comes down to earth with the question ‘Where are you?’ left unanswered. It has to be said that the piece celebrates the quest as much as it illustrates its ultimate failure and it does so with affection and good humour as well as profundity and anguish.
The vocalist is required to adopt a huge range of singing styles from breaths and rolled r’s to folk singing to outrageous coloratura. As in most of his other scores that I’ve heard, Adámek can find music in almost anything and make no mistake – this is a musical event above all else. The composer isn’t advancing some obscure musicological idea but making maddening, frenzied, bewildering, exuberant music. Ultimately, like the spiritual quest it describes, words fail to do justice to this piece. You are just going to have to listen to it.
--MusicWeb International (David McDade)
Respighi: Lauda per la Nativita del Signore; Frontini: Sizil
Carissimi: Jonas; Monteverdi & Lasso
Angelus ad Pastores - Weihnachtsgeschichte / Arman, Bavarian Radio Choir
In the Revelation of James, an apocryphal gospel that was not included in the Bible, events and details surrounding the birth of Christ are reported that do not appear in the better-known versions of the Christmas story from the gospels of Matthew and Luke. The Christmas story is presented by James in a vivid, dramatic, and almost theatrical manner.
Howard Arman's Christmas Story follows the tradition of works such as Bach's "Christmas Oratorio", where newly-composed settings of the Gospel alternate with chorales. Here, Gregorian and polyphonic chorales as well as several motets from the 17th century are woven into Arman's composition and form a second narrative level. They frame the episodes of the Christmas story and can also be understood as musical reactions to the narrated events.
This new BR-KLASSIK CD is complemented by the chorales from Peter Maxwell Davies' Christmas cantata "O magnum mysterium". Arman contrasts the powerful language and mysticism of James’ gospel by reducing musical means to their essentials: monophonic singing, syllabically conceived solo passages and, as the only accompanying instrument, a hurdy-gurdy, which with its monotonous, archaic sound represents a certain timelessness. All of this results in maximum text comprehensibility, whereby the emotional declamatory singing style almost makes the figures resemble characters in a stage play. A key moment is Joseph's vision shortly before the birth of Christ: time seems to stand still, and the mystical and sublime aspect of this scene is intensified by poetic words full of linguistic contrasts and contradictions. – The chorales and motets integrated into Arman’s Christmas Story gradually develop ever greater polyphony. Thus, three settings by Nicolaus Zangius, Hieronymus Praetorius and Hans Leo Hassler, scored for ever greater numbers of voices, lead to a fourth, ten-part composition by Melchior Vulpius, which concludes with the words "Peace on earth". In its formal layout, Arman's Christmas Story bears similarities to Peter Maxwell Davies' cantata "O magnum mysterium". This work, written in 1960 for the choirmaster of Manchester Cathedral, also consists of chorales and instrumental sonatas, although the order is not compulsory. The four a cappella chorales in particular constitute a self-contained unit in terms of both content and music.
Papandopulo: Hrvatska misa
Mozart: Sacred Choral Works / Arman, Academy for Ancient Music
The mass that Mozart composed in 1779 for the Easter service in Salzburg Cathedral is shrouded in legend. From the very first bar onwards, it exudes the stately tone that would, much later on, earn it the sobriquet "Coronation Mass". Soon after Mozart's death, it became the Viennese court orchestra’s favorite mass for coronation ceremonies.
This new release from BR-KLASSIK is a live recording of a concert, performed on May 21, 2022 in the Herkulessaal of the Munich Residenz. That concert of sacred music by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart included three other, lesser-known compositions that were also written during his time in Salzburg. Here they are woven in between the short movements of the Coronation Mass, and thus connected to the Mass in a way that might have been required by the practical performance conditions of a Salzburg church service.
In his "Vesperae solennes de Dominica", composed during the same year as the Mass, Mozart fulfilled the Salzburg prince-archbishop's demands for the greatest possible brevity in a tongue-in-cheek manner, by means of various compositional tricks as well as a particularly sonorous score. The album is rounded off by the "Epistle Sonata" for orchestra with obbligato organ in C major, K 329, written to accompany the "Coronation Mass", as well as by the solemn offertory "Alma Dei creatoris" for soloists, choir and orchestra in F major, K 277.
The first-rate cast of soloists consists of Katharina Konradi (soprano), Sophie Harmsen (mezzo-soprano), Steve Davislim (tenor) and Krešimir Stražanac (bass). The soloists and the excellent Bavarian Radio Chorus are accompanied by the Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin, one of the most renowned orchestras in the field of historical and historically informed performance practice. The conductor is Howard Arman.
Brahms: Ungarische Tanze
Puccini: Le Villi
Mozart: Gran Partita; Cannabich: Sinfonia concertante
Puccini: Messa di Gloria
Lauridsen: Lux Aeterna; Runestadt: Earth Symphony
Frano Parac: Judita
Webber: Requiem; Barber: Adagio
1929 - Tempo, Tanz und Technik / Theis, Munich Radio Orchestra
October 29, 1923 was a date steeped in history. In the middle of a year of political and economic crises, the age of public radio in Germany was ushered in with the first broadcast of the "Berliner Funkstunde" (Berlin Radio Hour) from the attic of an office building on Potsdamer Platz. Radio offered entirely new possibilities for the production and reception of music. The two compositions on this CD not only benefited from these developments but also played an active role in shaping them.
Eduard Künneke's five-movement Concerto grosso "Tänzerische Suite" op. 26 for jazz band and large orchestra corresponded to modern dances: the Overture is a Foxtrot, the Andante a Blues, the Intermezzo a Tango, the valse mélancolique a Boston Waltz, and the Finale a Foxtrot again. The suite was celebrated as a milestone in contemporary radio music and soon became part of the regular concert program.
Hanns Eisler's cantata "Tempo der Zeit" (Tempo of the Times) op. 16 for soloists, narrator, choir, winds, and percussion was written in 1929. The libretto was written by the popular lyricist Robert Gilbert, under the pseudonym of David Weber. With its pure wind ensemble and percussion, "Tempo der Zeit" captures the typical Songspiel sound of the time. The fact that Eisler used the "modern" medium of radio, of all things, to get his fundamental criticism of blind enthusiasm for technology across to the people is an ironical aspect of the work’s composition and reception history. This CD is part of the special programme focus on the topic "The Wild Sound of the Twenties".
Schubert: Lieder with Orchestra / Appl, Jockel, Munich Radio Orchestra
Time and again, composers – well-known and lesser-known – have arranged Franz Schubert's piano songs for orchestra. These versions are not in any way intended to cast doubt upon the powerful quality of the originals, they merely place them in a different light, and/or attempt to make them easier to perform on a larger scale – when an art song cannot be performed in an intimate salon or chamber music hall, it can also make an impact in a large concert hall.
Baritone Benjamin Appl has compiled nineteen such arrangements from the 19th and 20th centuries for this new CD from BR-KLASSIK. The Münchner Rundfunkorchester, conducted by Oscar Jockel, provides accompaniment that is subtle and in keeping with the work. The album is ultimately rounded off by the first recording of Johann von Herbeck’s orchestrations of Schubert's dances, thus establishing a connection between folk music and Schubert's art songs.
Zemlinsky: A Florentine Tragedy / Hahn, Munich Radio Orchestra
Guido Bardi, the son of the Duke of Florence, kneels before Bianca, the wife of the rich merchant Simone, and holds her hands. Simone, who has returned early from a business trip, then enters the room. The very beginning of Alexander Zemlinsky's one-act opera "A Florentine Tragedy", based on Oscar Wilde's play of the same name in the German translation by Max Meyerfeld, presents the conflict from which the tragedy arises. This stage work by the Austrian composer, who was forgotten for many decades, had its world premiere on January 30, 1917, in Stuttgart and was not performed again until 1977. This CD from BR-KLASSIK documents the Munich premiere on November 27, 2022, with the Münchner Rundfunkorchester conducted by Patrick Hahn, recorded live at the city’s Prinzregententheater.
With the "Florentine Tragedy", albeit rather belatedly, Zemlinsky followed the fashion for Renaissance and one-act works at the turn of the century. Richard Strauss had made his mark in that genre with "Salome" and "Elektra" – and the literary basis for the former had also been provided by Oscar Wilde. In the very first notes, seemingly aware of this similarity with Strauss’s work, Zemlinsky goes on the offensive with an "upbeat fanfare" – as the prelude to an orchestral introduction that can easily be interpreted as a musical representation of the main romantic relationship. At the transition to the actual stage action, however, Zemlinsky switches to a somber minor-key atmosphere. When Simone appears, the music already makes it clear that the plot cannot end otherwise than tragically. For whom, we do not yet know…
In the Munich premiere of Zemlinsky's "A Florentine Tragedy", Rachael Wilson (mezzo-soprano) sang the part of Bianca, Benjamin Bruns (tenor) was Prince Guido Bardi, and Christopher Maltman (baritone) portrayed the merchant Simone. The Münchner Rundfunkorchester performed under the young conductor Patrick Hahn. Last year, the 27-year-old Austrian – who since 2021 in Wuppertal has been the youngest Generalmusikdirektor in the German-speaking world – was engaged as the Münchner Rundfunkorchester’s Principal Guest Conductor.
Silvestrov: Requiem for Larissa / Mustonen, Munich Radio Orchestra
Awarded a Golden Tuning Fork by Diapason Magazine!
Valentin Silvestrov is probably the best-known Ukrainian composer, and his Requiem for Larissa, now released on album by BR-KLASSIK, was written in response to the unexpected death in 1996 of his wife, the music and literature scholar Larissa Bondarenko. She had stood by his side from the very beginning of his artistic career. It was in 1999, shortly before the turn of the millennium, that Silvestrov was finally able to complete his Requiem.
He did not set a drama of the Last Judgement to music, as Mozart, Berlioz or Verdi had done before him, but rather wrote a lament - in seemingly endless, world-forlorn repetitions. The composer stepped out of the present and into the past, commenting on his life with Larissa with memories of music that had inspired her, and with profound allusions, retrospections and epilogues of the most personal nature. Silvestrov set the words of the Latin mass for the dead to music, yet he did not compose a mass in the sense of a liturgically close or ecclesiastically compatible piece of music. In his seven-movement requiem, the theological order of the Catholic requiem mass is irrevocably dissolved. As if religious gravity had been suspended, isolated words drift about freely and forlornly. The work begins and ends with "Requiem aeternam". At the end, only the wind rushes out of the synthesiser – and, at the very end, an echo of the wind.
REVIEWS:
Perhaps there’s never been a more apposite time for a Ukrainian Requiem. Composed in 1999, the piece is as deeply personal as it gets, being a response by the composer to the death of his wife, three years earlier. As such, it would be improper to seek to reappopriate the work as some kind of surrogate ‘Requiem for Ukraine’. Yet it’s difficult if not impossible, amid the ongoing violence to which Ukraine pointlessly continues to suffer, to listen to any Ukrainian music, particularly music expressing mourning, without some simultaneous reflection on a wider sense of loss.
The work is a refreshingly unusual take on what has become a bit of a hackneyed, even rather vainglorious concept. Silvestrov’s Requiem sidesteps the usual drama and pseudo-spiritual histrionics, for the most part showing disinterest to the familiar Latin text.
Of course, such a mindset stems from a vast, inconsolable mix of emotions, and signs of this manifest in the following Tuba mirum, where the pent-up tension turns volatile, causing turbulence. The words continue in a semi-disoriented stream, articulating an angry Kyrie not so much directed at a deity as hurled in its face. We soon become aware that, though the music is so tragically entrenched, we’re nonethless progressing through the conventional Latin text at surprising speed: less than halfway through this second section we’ve already heard Requiem aeternam, Kyrie, Dies irae, Tuba mirum, Rex tremendae, Recordare and Lacrimosa, each one reduced to a truncated utterance petering out in ellipsis.
...the subsequent Lacrimosa – how heard in its entirety – is a soft-edged return to reality, but again its language is pained, the solo soprano progressing one phrase at a time. There’s the distinct impression of an attenuated music, physicality hobbled, pulse fibrillated, coagulating into rising choral clusters as the bass sags and drags downward. We’ve moved into another form of stasis, cycling round and round, rising and falling. Again that paradoxical duality of infinity and the infinitesimal: of being locked into a single “day … of weeping”, stretching on forever.
The central movement, ‘Prochai svite, prochai zemle’ (Goodbye, o world, o earth, farewell), setting words by renowned Ukraininan poet Taras Shevchenko, both sits outside this traumatised immobility and also serves as another instance of imaginary escape from reality. Its blend of folksong- and chant-like melodic writing sounds dream-like, but is again articulated one phrase at a time, evidently still as pained and doom-laden as everything that preceded it, and its closing moments are an ominous indication that we are in precisely the same place as we were before.
The remainder of Requiem für Larissa, its final three movements, reinforce the same all-pervading stasis of grief. The Agnus Dei offers illusory evocations of Mozart that, drifting and drenched in reverb, sound even more hauntological than that glimpse of a memory in the Lacrimosa.
We’re back in darkness, and the final two sections fixate, again elliptically, on the Requiem aeternam text. The work’s conclusion, in keeping with its immobility, presents music heard previously: that radiant memory from the Lacrimosa, as lovely as it is heartbreaking, slowly evaporating, via timpani rolls and lone string phrases, into a blackness without end.
Performed by the Munich Radio Orchestra with the Bavarian Radio Choir, conducted by Andres Mustonen, this is a live recording from June 2011. It’s good that it’s not a studio recording, polished and honed; don’t get me wrong, it’s an absolutely superb performance, but a work like Requiem für Larissa benefits immensely from the vibrancy and tension that permeate the live experience. It’s not the first recording of the work, and i’m sure more recordings will come, but everything about this sounds definitive.
-- 5 Against 4
A remarkable piece, [here] handled with great delicacy and control.
-- Choir & Organ
The composition of the Requiem was a necessity for Silvestrov to come to terms with the unexplained death of his wife Larissa. That is why his work became a lament and not a drama of the Last Day. The endless, world-forlorn repetitions may be heard as a commentary on their life together, peppered with reminiscences, retrospectives and personal epilogues. Meanwhile, one may hear the work of this Ukrainian composer more generally also against the background of the war of Putin and the Russian army against the brother country with connotations of senseless murder.
For a good half century Silvestrov has had an independent style, which he himself calls meta-music and which one might locate close to Western neo-romanticism or post-modernism. The sweeping gestures still show mourning and the time of processing loss rather than reconsideration. The five-part chorus, rounded out with a basso profundo in the low register, and the soloists who come from it, make this mood, which lets nothing but dejection be heard, impressively clear.
In this recording of a concert that took place back in 2011, the orchestra finds more of an underlining role, where accents are also added. In some sections, including those in which a synthesizer is added, natural sounds such as wind, are also imitated, as well as the old, ideal world with Mozart sounds. Andres Mustonen keeps all participants in contact with the necessary freedom with good coordination in such a way that a very dense and impressive music becomes audible, which nevertheless does not let despair arise despite all the pain. The recording, produced by the Bayerischer Rundfunk technical department, together with the informative booklet, therefore offers a high-quality rounding off.
-- Pizzicato
Hindemith: Cardillac / Soltész, Munich Radio Orchestra
BR-KLASSIK presents the live recording of a concert performance of Hindemith's opera "Cardillac" from the Prinzregententheater in Munich on October 13, 2013, in memory of the great conductor Stefan Soltész. Soltész died unexpectedly on July 22, 2022 - exactly one year ago - after collapsing while conducting Richard Strauss' "Die schweigsame Frau" at the Munich National Theatre. The Hungarian-born Austrian conductor was General Music Director of the Essen Philharmonic and Artistic Director of the Essen Aalto Music Theatre from 1997 to 2013. Both institutions were decisively shaped by him and received several awards during his era. He was a welcome guest conductor with the orchestras in Munich. In addition to the standard works from Mozart to Strauss, an important focus of his opera repertoire was Classical modernism.
Paul Hindemith's three-act opera "Cardillac", composed in 1925/26, was the composer's long-awaited first full-length stage work, and was based on E. T. A. Hoffmann's novella "Das Fräulein von Scuderi". Hindemith’s librettist Ferdinand Lion created a large-scale opera that focused primarily on the goldsmith Cardillac and on the madness that leads him to murder. Any logically structured plot was replaced by individual, self-contained scenes, resembling isolated snapshots. The premiere took place on November 9, 1926 at the Dresden State Opera under the baton of Fritz Busch, who thus spectacularly continued his series of important world premieres. Although the opera's radical style was perceived as highly unusual, it was nevertheless well received. After 1933, the work disappeared from German-language repertoires, but it promptly returned in 1946. Hindemith undertook a fundamental revision, and it was premiered in Zurich in 1952 - combined with a performance ban on the first version. As early as 1960, however, the release of the 1926 version was achieved – and it went on to supplant its revised version almost completely. This recording also features the original, first version of the opera.
Caplet: Le miroir de Jésus / Arman, Munich Radio Orchestra
Le miroir de Jésus (The Mirror of Jesus) for mezzo-soprano, women's choir, strings and harp, the last major work composed by the French composer André Caplet in the spring and summer of 1923 and based on fifteen poems by the French writer Henri Ghéon, was subtitled "Mystères du rosaire" (Mysteries of the Rosary). The mystical work, whose form and genre defy the usual categorizations, revolves around the most important stations in the life of Jesus, told from the perspective of the Virgin Mary and mirrored, as it were, in her gaze. Each of the three parts consists of an extended instrumental prelude and five episodes. The first begins with the Annunciation, recounts the Visitation of Mary, the birth of Christ and his time in the Temple of Jerusalem. The second part turns to the mysteries of pain: Jesus' scourging, the crown of thorns, the way of the cross and the agony, and finally his death. The last part reflects on the "Glorious Mysteries": Jesus's Resurrection, the Ascension, Pentecost and finally Assumption and Coronation.
A mezzo-soprano takes on the perspective of Mary. Occasionally the voice changes to recitation or even recitative, but the singing always serves the text, guaranteeing its comprehensibility and at the same time interpreting the words through musical means. Later, the choir introduces the respective poem titles and also emerges at a few points that are all the more significant: at the end of the first rosary, it reinforces the message of Ghéon's text with a Latin biblical quotation, and later on with eulogies such as "Sanctus" and "Alleluia". In "Le miroir de Jésus", Caplet found a musical form for the mysteries of the ancient passion story that brings together past and present into a peaceful synthesis.
REVIEWS:
Le Miroir de Jésus was André Caplet’s last major completed work, composed two years before his early death at the age of 46.
Caplet’s writing is precise and considered, and his accomplished use of melancholic presentiment – as in the Nativité of the First Part – possesses a simplicity, and yet a directness, that proves consistently compelling. His handling of what are deliberately reduced orchestral forces of strings and a harp reveals a master orchestrator. Incidents such as the rippling water evocations in the Présentation simply reinforce his command of impressionist-derived devices put to his own use.
Arman and the Munich Radio Orchestra catch the spare unisons in Part Two’s Prélude and they expand density over the final bars the better to explore the Gregorian implications of the succeeding Agonie au Jardin. Over this section one encounters reflective lyricism and much beauty as well as terse, jagged writing in the scene where Christ is crowned with thorns.
The richness and variety of his imagination is palpable throughout and in the Prélude to Part Three Arman ensures that Caplet’s presaging of elements of minimalism is clear even as Caplet generates a halo-like subtlety after the Resurrection scene. The spiritual intensity reaches a transcendence and moving intensity, the women of the choir of Bavarian Radio exuding exultant echo effects as the work draws to a close, Vondung both speaking and then singing rapturously with choral support.
The performance is beautifully balanced and is taken from a live performance in the Herz-Jesu-Kirche, Munich – not that one would know it’s live, as there’s no audience noise audible. Vondung is a splendid exponent, as she has proved in Baroque Passions and cantatas on disc, whose mezzo provides a sympathetic and rich-voiced conduit both for Ghéon’s texts and for Caplet’s richly varied, spiritually charged music.
Arman paces the work perfectly drawing out its radiance as well as its ethereal beauties, and – occasionally – its more harmonically astringent elements.
There’s a good booklet and full texts are provided in French with German and English translations.
-- MusicWeb International
Beethoven: Egmont / Zirner, Landshamer, Fiore, Munich Radio Orchestra
In September 1809, the Vienna Hofburg Theatre commissioned Ludwig van Beethoven to create new incidental music for Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's "Egmont". The tragedy had premiered in Mainz on January 9, 1789. It calls for incidental music, but various attempts – some commissioned by the poet himself – had remained unfinished or were unsatisfactory. The music was required in several sections of the drama, however, and the Vienna production of "Egmont" was to include it. Beethoven set to work. He made good progress, because the subject suited him: the tragedy is set in Brussels, under threat from Spanish troops, and deals with resistance against oppression and foreign rule. The Viennese theatre premiere of "Egmont" on May 24, 1810 still had to make do without music, however – the score was only finally completed by the third performance. Beethoven's incidental music was premiered on June 15, 1810.
The music itself makes it clear that this commission was close to Beethoven's heart - it far exceeds the level of incidental music common at that time. That applies not only to the compositional demands but also to the relationship of the music to the drama. Eschewing mere illustration, Beethoven provided an interpretation and therefore an additional level of meaning. The well-known Egmont Overture, the most dramatically dense part of the incidental music, anticipates the action and introduces the characters. A clear reference to the drama is made in the ending, which corresponds exactly to the symphony of victory called for by Goethe at the end of the tragedy. The finale - a clear reference to the drama - corresponds exactly to the “symphony of victory” called for by Goethe at the end of the tragedy.
Verdi: Complete Ballet Music
Ullmann: Der Kaiser von Atlantis / Eröd, Hahn, Munich Radio Orchestra
Viktor Ullmann's one-act chamber opera Der Kaiser von Atlantis [The Emperor of Atlantis] was written in the Theresienstadt concentration camp and did not see its premiere until December 16, 1975 in Amsterdam, since the performance was banned after its dress rehearsal in 1944. The concert performance of the version by Henning Brauel and Andreas Krause (Schott), which took place on October 10, 2021 at the Prince Regent's Theatre in Munich, was recorded for this CD. Alongside the internationally renowned Austrian Kammersänger Adrian Eröd in the title role, mainly young performers sang, accompanied by the Munich Radio Choir conducted by Patrick Hahn, who made his debut here as the orchestra's principal guest conductor.
Viktor Ullmann, born in 1898 in Teschen, Silesia, studied with Arnold Schönberg and Alois Hába in Vienna. He worked first as a bandmaster and then as a bookseller, and settled in Prague as a freelance artist in 1933. Because he came from a Jewish family, he was deported to the Theresienstadt camp by the Nazis in 1942. In October 1944 he was murdered in Auschwitz-Birkenau, together with composers Pavel Haas and Hans Krása, who were almost the same age. Since the Nazis allowed a lively cultural life in their "showcase camp" of Theresienstadt, Ullmann was also able to be musically active. The intellectual and cultural heritage of that time is reflected in his music – also, and especially, in the "one-act play" that he wrote there entitled “Der Kaiser von Atlantis oder Die Tod-Verweigerung" (The Emperor of Atlantis or the Disobedience of Death), based on a libretto by his fellow prisoner Peter Kien.
REVIEWS:
The confident conducting of the young Austrian Patrick Hahn stands out for a fascinating transparency, as well as an accentuated lightness, which makes the voices all the more haunting. In addition to the striking baritone of Adrian Eröd as the Emperor, the bass Tareq Nazmi is very convincing in the role of the striking Death. Highly expressive and with an impeccably managed mezzo voice, Christel Loetzsch is a most impressive drummer.
Singing very sensitively are tenor Johannes Chum as soldier Harlequin and bass Lars Woldt in the role of the speaker. The soprano Juliana Zara can also please as Bubikopf.
And so this is then a gripping interpretation of Ullmann’s opera, which pleases on the one hand by the refinement of the orchestral performance and on the other hand by excellent voices.
--Pizzicato
It is remarkable how calmly Patrick Hahn, permanent guest conductor of the Munich Radio Orchestra, with his highly concentrated soloists in the Prinzregententheater, keeps a balance between existential commitment and a certain lightness, which the piece also requires.
The lively soprano Juliana Zara brings a ray of hope...Christel Loetzsch, as the drummer, gives the best impression of the theatrical potency of the piece: she announces total war in a mezzo whose timbral beauty extends to all registers of the role's enormous scope.
--Munich Evening Times
This is the version of Viktor Ullmann’s opera, recorded live in October, 2021 in Munich, that features an expanded instrumental score...this [version], edited by Henning Brauel, while retaining much of the instrumental ensemble’s theatre/cabaret aspects, has an overall more polished, softening of the edges quality, thanks to a richer, fuller string sound (helped also by the warm recording ambience).
[The] singers here are all excellent, and the orchestra, members of the Munich Radio Orchestra, is equally, expectedly fine...the notes also include a fascinating discussion...of the many musical and cultural references in the libretto and in the music.
--ClassicsToday.com
The Emperor of Atlantis has achieved a well-deserved reputation as one of the strongest works to have been composed by any of the several important composers who died in the Holocaust. Ullmann’s music is a heady mix of grim and playful, making allusions to hymn tunes and popular-music styles, with instrumental flourishes, propulsive rhythms, and sweet-sour harmonies that evoke, at times, such composers of his era as Hindemith, Weill, and Prokofiev but that, taken together, create a distinctive sound-world like no other.
This latest recording was made during an unstaged (or minimally staged) performance in front of an audience, and it is wonderful[.] The cast members all have steady and healthy-sounding (young?) voices. Often, indeed, they sing with astounding beauty of tone, which helped keep my ear glued to the proceedings, whereas I have sometimes felt that I was being shouted-at in my contacts with the work (on recordings and in live performance). The all-crucial words are rendered clearly and idiomatically by all concerned. I cannot resist praising Tareq Nazmi.
-- Artsfuse (Ralph P. Locke)
I'll Dance to Heaven with You: Music for Propaganda Films / Theis, Munich Radio Orchestra
Istrian Rhapsody / Repušic, Munich Radio Orchestra
The folk music of the Croatian peninsula of Istria is as characteristic as it is extraordinary. Its melodies, harmonies and rhythms are unique, and sonorously expressed by the sopila - a traditional shawm instrument - as well as through choral singing and folk dances. The music with its asymmetrical rhythms is based on the so-called "pentatonic Istrian scale", which consists of major and minor seconds and is thus clearly different from the other musical styles of Croatia. Numerous non-Istrian musicians and composers have been fascinated by it - among them the Croatian composer Natko Devčić, with his "Istrian Suite" for orchestra (1946), or the young Croatian pianist and composer Dejan Lazić with his "Concerto in Istrian Style for Piano and Orchestra” op. 18 (2014/2021), or his "Alterations on the Istrian Folk Hymn" op. 29 (2022).
Natko Devčić was one of Croatia's most important composers and music educators, leaving a lasting impression on subsequent generations of musicians. His most lasting success as a composer came with his "Istrian Suite" for orchestra from 1946, which uses Istrian folk music as a source of inspiration and as a link between Slavic late Romanticism and the avant-garde.
Dejan Lazić’s five-movement "Concerto in Istrian Style for Piano and Orchestra” op. 18 is closely connected to Istrian music, with its melodies, harmonies and rhythms, and features the "Istrian scale" as well as the typical melodies played in thirds. The central movement of the concerto is an extended cadenza in which Lazić – who has already composed cadenzas for piano concertos by Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven and also arranged Brahms' Violin Concerto op. 77 for piano and orchestra – demonstrates his diverse experience in this field. Lazić's "Alterations on the Istrian Folk Hymn" op. 29 were written for the present CD and are dedicated to the Munich Radio Orchestra and its principal conductor Ivan Repušic.
The song "Draga nam je zemlja", recorded by Ivan Matetić Ronjgov, was and continues to be sung as a folk hymn in Istria, and in his work Lazić has taken its melody as the basis for a theme and twelve variations with coda for orchestra.
