Includes sonata(s) for piano by Ludwig van Beethoven. Soloist: Garrick Ohlsson.

We live in an age of great Beethoven piano playing, even if not of great orchestral interpretation. One series of records or discs after another has emerged of the highest quality, so that we can gain extremely varied perspectives on the same works, quite a few of them equally valid. Even so, I doubt whether I shall ever be as impressed by any future performances as I have been by the ones on the first two (Bridge 9198 and 9201) of a planned complete cycle by the American Garrick Ohlsson. His career is something of a mystery: having won the Chopin competition in Warsaw in 1970, and established himself as a great Chopin interpreter, he has never made nearly as big a reputation in the UK as he should have done, though I heard wonderful concerts from him in the 1970s here. Now, with the superb sound engineering of Bridge, we can hear him in six of the 32 sonatas, the most familiar ones so far avoided, but all these as fresh and compelling as I have ever heard them. Ohlsson commands a huge variety of tones, pays immense attention to detail, but contrives to be spontaneous and to keep each whole work always in view. The last work on the second disc is Op. 111, the last sonata of all, and given here as great a reading as I have ever heard – and as great as Ohlsson’s teacher, Claudio Arrau, gave it. I can’t give it any higher praise than that. Yet in some ways I was even more impressed by the sheer stature he finds, without going in for inflationary measures, in the ‘little’ Sonata in F sharp minor, Op. 78. Lasting only ten minutes, the effect it has is out of all proportion to that.

-- BBC Music Magazine

Selection includes Alexander Schneider Speaks about the Budapest String Quartet's early years.
Throughout their long and historic career, the Budapest String Quartet championed the complete cycle of Beethoven's string quartets both in recording and recital. Their blend of total knowledge of the score in the Beethoven and in other works, such as the Bartók cycle, combined with a unique intensity and refinement, influenced all subsequent generations of chamber musicians. The Guarneri Quartet in particular, who have recorded and performed the Beethoven cycle several times, clearly has shadows of the Budapest in their playing. So, for that matter, do the Juilliard and Emerson quartets. Solo and chamber artists such as Arnold Steinhardt and Jaime Laredo benefited from working with members of the legendary ensemble at Marlboro. Therefore the legacy the Budapest left is an enduring one that is rife with musical rewards for the discerning listener.
From the 1940s to the 60s, the Budapest Quartet was Quartet in residence at the Library of Congress. This disc is a compilation of some of their more notable performances, culled from hundreds of recordings. Though the production quality leaves something to be desired, the music making is supreme.

Lambert Orkis offers three performances of Beethoven's Appassionata sonata, each featuring a different instrument of Viennese design. No doubt period piano connoisseurs will anticipate a bountiful taste test of timbre and resonance between the disparate Wolf and Regier fortepianos and the modern Bösendorfer Imperial Concert Grand. Orkis, for his part, discusses in the booklet notes how he had to change his performance technique in order to adjust to each instrument's physical characteristics, although the interpretations (recorded on consecutive days) appear to be cut from the same conscientious, perceptively detailed cloth.

The Wolf fortepiano, based on instruments by Nannette Streicher circa 1814-1820, has a transparency and bite that lends itself to the high degree of nervous tension Orkis cites in his performance. Actually I hear "tense" more than "tension", in that the pianist's earnest adherence to Beethoven's combative accents and sudden dynamic shifts sometimes pulls focus from the music's dramatic sweep and rhythmic momentum. Although Orkis clearly enjoys the Bösendorfer's sustaining power in the slow-movement variations, he pursues a surprisingly limited dynamic range in comparison to Garrick Ohlsson's more powerfully projected version (also played on a Bösendorfer Imperial Grand). However, the R. J. Regier fortepiano's alluring tonal differentiation inspires a similarly detailed reading with greater note-to-note continuity and backbone, as well as the newfound abandon in virtuosic passages Orkis accurately cites. A fascinating disc.

--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Includes partita(s) by Johann Sebastian Bach. Soloists: Susan Rotholz, Kenneth Cooper.
Includes son(s) for fl and bc by Johann Sebastian Bach. Soloists: Susan Rotholz, Kenneth Cooper.

BACH Goldberg Variations. HANDEL Suite No. 2, HWV 427 • Garrick Ohlsson (pn) • BRIDGE 9193 (59:36)


Despite my rants about over duplication of recordings of the standard repertoire, I welcome this new recording of the Bach, even though it is preceded by 176 available recordings, according to ArkivMusic. Garrick Ohlsson plays the Goldberg Variations as if they were a set of character pieces, which seems wholly in the spirit of the composer’s intentions. He eschews the virtuosic style that some others favor, instead opting for generally relaxed tempos that let the music speak for itself. This is very similar to Ohlsson’s Beethoven. In the case of both composers, I do not mean to suggest that his playing is in any way ordinary or pedantic. There is grace, intelligence, and technical aplomb in everything this artist does, presented in an unfailingly self-effacing way. If you want flashy playing, look elsewhere.


It is also significant that Ohlsson does not slavishly play every repeat, which seems almost obligatory these days. The Mozart scholar Robert Levin has said that the repeat signs in Mozart are not suggestions, but commands, but it is not clear whether or not that is the case for Bach. Playing the Goldberg s without repeats, à la Glenn Gould, does engender a pleasing quality of concision to this magical music, and many of the recordings that do include all of the repeats do not afford the imagination and variety to make the effort worthwhile.


This highly rewarding disc concludes with a buoyant performance of Handel’s stately music. Repeat fanatics will have to pass on this one, but music lovers should consider it if it fills a hole in one’s collection.


FANFARE: Peter Burwasser


Garrick Ohlsson brings considerable pianistic and musical distinction to Bach's Goldberg Variations. Interpretively speaking, he's a centrist whose directness and (for lack of a better word) "normalcy" certainly will attract collectors who steer clear of idiosyncrasy (Gould), pedanticism (Tureck), or rapid-transit tempos (Jennifer Lin), and who also don't want any repeats. Ohlsson organizes his dynamics with such care and intelligence that the climax of a phrase or section always sounds grand and inevitable rather than super-sized, as his eloquently measured opening Aria and the toccata-like Variation 29 bear out. He employs ornaments sparingly, always to surprising effect.

Likewise, Ohlsson lets his fingers do most of the work, saving the sustain pedal for dramatic bursts of color, such as Variation 8's quick contrary-motion scales. This and the other cross-handed variations (those that Bach intended for two harpsichord manuals) particularly gain from Ohlsson's sharp ear for textural variety as well as from his capacity for digital fireworks. By contrast, the harmonic tension throughout the three minor-key variations speaks for itself by way of Ohlsson's seasoned simplicity.

All of Ohlsson's aforementioned virtues in the Goldbergs equally apply to the Handel F major Suite. Listen to the pianist's perky bass lines in the Allegro, the ravishing lyricism with which he orchestrates the third-movement Adagio, or the Fugue's noble lilt, and you'll agree. The piano's slight twang and pronounced registral differentiation also made me sit up and take notice. The instrument turns out to be a 1917 Mason and Hamlin concert grand. Is it for sale?
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Milton Babbitt remains a controversial figure on today's musical scene, with his ideas more frequently discussed than his music is actually listened to. This recording contains the premiere recordings of five Babbitt works that span a quarter of a century. The CD opens with a performance of Babbitt's exquisite Quatrains, sung by the brilliant young American soprano, Tony Arnold. Set to a text by a Babbitt favorite - John Hollander - Quatrains is a work of great delicacy and subtlety. Manifold Music shows Babbitt adapting his language to the organ in a most original manner. Exploiting the instrument's potential for colorful registration, Babbitt's demanding score is a spectacular workout for the hands and feet of organ virtuoso, Gregory D'Agostino. My Ends Are My Beginnings has, since its composition in 1978, been regarded by many as one of the most difficult to play works for a solo woodwind instrument. The work's dedicatee, Allen Blustine (long-time clarinetist for Speculum Musicae), gives a heroic reading of this 17 minute solo. Soli e Duettini is one of three works with this title. This work, for two guitars, is played by dedicatees William Anderson and Oren Fader. (This premiere recording was previously issued on Bridge 9042). The final work is Babbitt's just completed Swan Song No. 1. It is a remarkable composition for the unusual combination of flute, oboe, mandolin, guitar, violin and cello. CD annotator Matthias Kriesberg writes: "The experience of hearing Milton Babbitt, who for so long played off the boundaries of musical dimensions against one another, now rein in the extremes so dramatically as to focus the ear on the centered drama of calm voices interacting, is certainly extraordinary. But should we really be surprised? After all, there is a long, rich history of composers who, having definitively proven their ability to wrest music in an entirely new direction, turned their attention inward, ever inward, to contemplate that place, in the words of W.B. Yeats, "where all the ladders start."

Arlene Sierra, Vol. 3 presents chamber music composed over a sixteen year period (1997-2013), by the brilliant composer. An American composer based in London, Arlene Sierra writes music that takes its impetus from rich sources including military strategy, game theory, Darwinian evolution, and the natural world. Her music has been lauded for its “highly flexible and distinctive style” (The Guardian), and its “remarkable brilliance of color, rhythmic dexterity and playfulness” (NPR Classical). Declared “a name to watch” by BBC Music Magazine, Arlene Sierra is the subject of a critically-acclaimed series of portrait discs with Bridge Records. She has received fellowships from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, the MacDowell Colony and the Tanglewood Music Festival, and has had portrait concerts at the Crush Room, Royal Opera House, London, the Yellow Barn Music Festival, Vermont and Columbia University’s Miller Theatre, New York. A Takemitsu Prize-winner and Latin GRAMMY nominee, Sierra has received commissions from BBC Radio 3 and the BBC Philharmonic, the New York Philharmonic, Seattle Symphony, Bremen Philharmonic Society, BBC National Orchestra of Wales, Albany Symphony, the Cheltenham, Huddersfield and Tanglewood Music Festivals, and many ensembles and soloists.

This recording presents first performances of four recent scores by Arlene Sierra, the American composer, now living in London. Arlene Sierra’s music packs volcanic rhythmic power into compositions that are at once atmospheric, yet possessed of inexorable forward drive. The subject matter of Sierra’s compositions is far flung, and includes East Asian studies, evolutionary biology, entomology, game theory, siege engines, and architecture, to name but a few. In recent years Sierra has been commissioned by the New York Philharmonic and the Seattle Symphony, and both of these compositions are heard here. Sierra teaches composition at Cardiff University, Wales and the The BBC National Orchestra of Wales, led by their Principal Guest Conductor, Jac Van Steen, have played Sierra’s orchestral music more frequently than any other orchestra. Their superb performances capture the visceral quality and detail of Sierra’s virtuosic scores. - Bridge Records

Christmas

Put on this 1954 all-Paganini recital from the Library of Congress and you'll be awestruck at the sheer musicality, proportion, and taste behind Zino Francescatti's staggering technical command of his violin. His intense vibrato never veers off the correct intonational mark, and even the fleetest scales, runs, and roulades are purposefully articulated, never sketchy. Then there's his amazing palette of bow strokes and slides, effortless double-stops, skips, and arpeggios. In the D major concerto's third movement, for example, as you listen to the double-stop harmonics you sense that Francescatti knew exactly how they would sound before he played them. Although the violinist follows the now-antiquated practice of adding piano accompaniments to both the concerto and the selection of Caprices, Artur Balsam's full-bodied, bedrock support proves much more than mere accompanying. In short, Paganini's music seldom has been so lovingly and intelligently served, and the archival recording boasts ample bloom and presence for its time and place. An absolute must for violin fans.--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Amy Beach (1873-1942) was probably the first woman composer to gain attention for writing successfully in the large forms of the nineteenth century: symphony, concerto, oratorio and chamber music. But it is in her songs and solo piano music that we glimpse a more private and intimate Beach. Beach produced more than 120 songs, only a few of which are known to the general public. This superb CD presents 22 of Beach’s finest songs, a selection which ranges from some of her earliest published efforts through her later brooding masterpieces. American baritone Patrick Mason is accompanied on this recording by leading Beach specialist, pianist Joanne Polk. Together, Mason and Polk’s penetrating interpretations make an excellent case for these songs as major English language song literature.

This is a very welcome reissue on CD, despite sonics that are starting to show their age. Karl Krueger may not have been the most dynamic conductor around, but he was both reliable and he had the Royal Philharmonic at his disposal. The result is a disc of fine performances despite the unfamiliarity of the music. Louis Coerne's Excalibur is a big sloppy lump of fake (Richard) Strauss, more thickly and primitively scored, without a single memorable idea or identifiable link to its subject matter. Or maybe it's Bax on a bad day. Hearing it, you easily can understand the composer's posthumous descent into near-total obscurity (he died in 1922). Still, it's only 13 minutes long and a genuine curiosity in its way. Everything else on the disc is well worth hearing.

Like Elgar's Wand of Youth, Edward Hill's lovely First Stevensoniana Suite is a delightful homage to childhood written very much with adults in mind. The music is tuneful and skillfully orchestrated and makes a good case for some record label to put out a complete set of all of the suites. Until then, this will do nicely. Horatio Parker's A Northern Ballad certainly withstands comparison to similar works of the English school (such as Vaughan Williams) and is cut from similar cloth. John Alden Carpenter's Sea Drift is a splendid tone poem very different from Delius' work for voices and orchestra. It has been recorded a couple of times, most notably with the Albany Symphony for New World. This performance is a bit dreamier and richer in texture, if not as well engineered. Certainly collectors of early 20th century American composers will need no special urging from me. Come and get it!

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Includes work(s) by various composers. Ensemble: Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. Conductor: Karl Krueger.

You don't listen to Cecil Taylor (my favorite living pianist) as much as experience him. More often than not he begins one of his extended solo or group pieces with thematic cells stated in quiet, restless octaves, single notes, or sparse clusters of chords. Since the early 1980s he's been sneaking in bits of spoken word. As he gets going, the material slips and slides up and down several octaves and eventually envelops the entire instrument at super speeds. A musician friend of mine once described Taylor's high-velocity keyboard prowess as treating the piano like a punching bag. That's not really true. There's certainly a percussive side to Taylor's decisive, frighteningly ambidextrous articulation, yet the phrase shapes always seem to arise from melodic impulses no matter how fast they transpire. Think of Erroll Garner's rolling, unpredictable solo introductions blown up to feature size, and you'll realize that Taylor is not so avant-garde as he appears on the surface.


Algonquin, commissioned for the Library of Congress and premiered there on February 12, 1999, features the pianist in duet with violinist Mat Maneri. The 55-minute performance is typical of Taylor's collaborative modus operandi in that he plays the way he plays, and the rest of you try to fit in. Rather than offer a violinistic counterpart to Taylor's virtuosity and visceral power, Maneri courageously sticks to his understated, soft-spoken style, which fuses free jazz, traditional folk fiddling, and baroque bowing techniques in a compelling, organic whole. He also employs an electronic pedal that expands the violin's range below its unplugged parameters into viola and cello territory.


Two larger duet sections bracket a pair of unaccompanied solos that reveal each player's mature lyrical inventiveness to telling advantage. That said, I don't think Maneri challenges Taylor to the extent that more dynamic or iconoclastic improvisers have done in the past. Cases in point include Taylor's stimulating recorded collaborations with guitarist Derek Bailey, his wide-ranging duets with percussionist Max Roach, and the 1998 trio session with tenor saxophonist Dewey Redman and the late, great drum icon Elvin Jones--plus, of course, his working trio from the '60s and '70s that included alto saxophonist Jimmy Lyons and percussionist Andrew Cyrille.


Newcomers to Cecil Taylor's unique artistry should start with one of his extended live solo performances on CD, like Silent Tongues (Freedom/Black Lion), Air Above Mountains (Enja), or Erzulie Maketh Scent (FMP). Get to know these discs first, then investigate the Bridge release. The engineering is of good archival quality, and the annotations cogently discuss this performance in the context of Taylor's long career.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com