It’s easy to identify the classical guitar with Spanish repertoire. After all, Andrés Segovia, who revived the fortunes of the instrument in the early decades of the 20th century after long neglect, was a Spaniard. This does not do justice, however, to the major contribution made to 20th-century guitar repertoire by a number of national schools, among which the United Kingdom’s is particularly outstanding for the quantity and quality of the pieces. This album offers a significant sample of music for solo guitar by four important composers: Cyril Scott, Lennox Berkeley, Benjamin Britten and William Walton. Despite being relatively unfamiliar to the wider public, the figure of Cyril Scott (1879–1970) is one of real interest. Though it was written in 1927, Scott’s Sonatina has only entered the repertoire of today’s guitarists in recent years. Its solid compositional mastery gives rise to a beauty at once enigmatic and captivating. Lennox Berkeley’s (1903–1989) compositions for the guitar span almost half a century and are a faithful record of his stylistic evolution. Berkeley’s 4 Pièces pour la guitare is a sparkling collection in spirit very close to the style of composers such as Albert Roussel and Francis Poulenc. The Nocturnal after John Dowland Op.70 (1963) by Benjamin Britten (1913–1976) is also a theme and variations, but rather than present the theme and develop it with variations, Britten inverts the form, revealing the theme only at the very end of the piece after it is gradually unveiled in fragments of a musical mosaic cleverly scattered across the preceding variations. The irreverent japes of William Walton’s (1902–1983) Façade for speaker and instrumental sextet, which in 1922/3 marked the composer’s debut as an enfant terrible, soon gave way to a late-Romantic style closer to Bax and Vaughan Williams.

Bach’s music is often described as indestructible, in the sense that no matter how it is performed, or in whichever arrangement, its essential spirit survives. Therefore transcriptions of the Master’s works are common, today as they were in Bach’s time (Bach (1685-1750) himself was an ardent transcriber!). This new recording presents instrumental works by Bach transcribed for and played on the modern guitar. The selection includes works written originally for lute BWV 996, 997 and 998, and the Sonata BWV 1003 and Partita BWV 1004, originally written for solo violin. Arcady Ivannikov is one of Russia’s leading guitarists, a key figure in the popularization of his instrument in his home country, having organized numerous concerts and festivals.

Transcription has always been a widespread musical practice, following the desire to arrange pieces originally written for an instrumental and/or vocal ensemble for an instrument like the organ or harpsichord or, later, the piano. The eighteenth century was a very fertile period for transcriptions, reaching its pinnacle among Johann Sebastian Bach’s circle. The transcriptions Bach (1685-1750) made during his time in Weimar both for organ (three concertos by Vivaldi and two by Johann Ernst of Saxe-Weimar) and an astonishing 14 for harpsichord (by various Italian composers) are of great artistic value. However, Bach also adapted his own works originally written for instruments or voices, ‘appropriating’ them for the keyboard. These included the first movement of his Trio Sonata No. 4, taken from the sinfonia from the cantata Die Himmel erzählen die Ehre Gottes BWV 76 (for oboe d’amore, viola da gamba and basso continuo) and the Schübler chorales, which started off life as arias in various cantatas.

The aim of this recording is to offer a series of transcriptions that were originally written for instruments other than the organ. The transcribers include Bach himself, contemporaries of him, two 19th century composers: Alexandre Guilmant and Robert Schaab, a pupil of Mendelssohn, ending with the present organist, Stefano Molardi himself.

Stefano Molardi is a “renaissance man”, organist, harpsichordist, scholar, historian and writer. He recorded extensively: the complete organ works by J.S. Bach, organ works by Bach family members, complete organ works by Kuhnau and other repertoire. His playing is clear, crisp, free and rhythmically vibrant. His recordings received 5 star reviews in the international classical magazines. Played on the Johann Nepomuk Holzhey (1797) organ at the Neresheim Abbey, Baden-Württemberg, Germany, the specifications of which are included in the booklet.

Born in Granada, Antonio Ruiz-Pipó (1934-1997) learnt the guitar in his youth but trained as a pianist. He began his studies in Barcelona at the Escolanía de Nuestra Señora de la Merced. In 1948 he enrolled at the Frank Marshall Academy, named after the Granados pupil who had himself trained a generation of Spanish pianists, most renowned of them Alicia de Larrocha. Ruiz-Pipó duly became a student of de Larrocha, as well as learning the craft of composition with José Cercós. The turning point of his career arrived in 1951, when he received a scholarship from the French government to study in Paris. Enrolled at the École Normale de Musique de Paris, he studied with Alfred Cortot, Blanche Bascouret de Gueraldy and Yves Nat. This new recording presents Ruiz-Pipó’s complete works for guitar, unmistakably Hispanic in character, but seamlessly integrated within his own, distinctive musical language. Elements of the Spanish folk tradition bridge the divide between a tonal-modal center and the prevalence of free atonal chromaticism. Born in 1994, Michele Di Filippo studied with guitar luminaries including David Russell, Adriano Del Sal, Stefano Palamidessi, Arturo Tallini, Massimo Delle Cese, Andrea Pace, and Cristiano Poli Cappelli. He is also widely known as a successful composer, mostly for his own instrument, the guitar.

Playwright Luise Gottsched, née Kulmus, in 1732 wrote a letter to her future husband, the writer Johann Christoph Gottsched: ‘The keyboard pieces sent over by Bach… are as difficult as they are beautiful. Even after playing them ten times, they still seem new to me.’ A few years later polymath and Bach’s former pupil Lorenz Christoph Mizler offered the following advice regarding these Clavier-Übung I partitas: ‘Anyone who has difficulties with keyboard fingering will find it difficult to learn the keyboard pieces written by the famous Mr. Bach in Leipzig’.

The name Sinfonia for the first movement in the Partita in C minor is redolent of opening cantata movements and the dotted rhythm of a French overture. The Grave adagio however, is not followed by the fugal fast section you would expect here. This approach was carried out more consistently and stylistically in the Partita in D major, although there the fast section approaches the form of a concerto. Instead, the Grave adagio of the Partita in C minor is followed by a sonata-like movement with an arabesque effect in the upper voice, followed by a lively fugato. As a result, the piece appears in three parts. In contrast, the opening Fantasia in the Partita in A minor is more akin to an invention, showing similarities with the opening section of the second English Suite of the same key. Moreover, since the 17th century, the distinction between the terms ‘Praeludium’ and ‘Praeambulum’ was insignificant. Yet Bach’s delicately sculpted Praeludium in the B flat major Partita, is stylistically very different from the concerto-like Praeambulum of the Partita in G major. Lastly, the Toccata in the Partita in E minor offers rhapsodic-improvisatory sections framing a fugue after the style of Froberg, whose works for keyboard instruments must have been known to Bach.

Between 1953 and 1967, Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco (1895–1968) wrote 53 works for various instrumental ensembles that were collected together as Opus 170 and given the title Greeting Cards. Castelnuovo-Tedesco described them as ‘alphabetic pieces’: he derived their musical themes derived from ascending and descending chromatic scales, in which each note is combined with a letter of the alphabet. On this new album, Cristiano Porqueddu plays the 21 Greeting Cards composed for the guitar. They are small, unexpected homages that Castelnuovo-Tedesco liked to give his friends, to musicians who played his works, to his pupils and occasionally also to people who were not musicians. He later declared them to be minor works, but each of them is filled with affection, regardless of the professional status of the subject. In this imaginary gallery there are thus portrayals of legendary musicians such as Jascha Heifetz and Andrés Segovia alongside several of his students, including André Previn, Christopher Parkening and Eugene Robin Escovado. Castelnuovo-Tedesco made each Greeting Card a vivid portrait of the dedicatee, usually by combining rhythms and atmospheres that reflected nationality, as with the Tonadilla sul nome di Andrés Segovia or the Canción venezolana sul nome di Alirio Díaz. However, there are also more abstract references, such as the Rondel on the name of Siegfried Behrend (No.6) or evocations generated by the name itself: the Fantasia sul nome di Henry e Ronald Purcell (No.38), for instance, or the Volo d’Angeli sul nome di Angelo Gilardino (No.47). What they all have in common is a depth of feeling that transcends their superficial status as ‘occasional’ pieces.

REVIEW:

The considerable fame that Bartolomeo Campagnoli (1751–1827) achieved during his own lifetime was largely due to his contribution to violin studies. The 41 Caprices he wrote for viola and the 7 Divertimenti for solo violin are still in use today. Campagnoli’s career as a concert performer began in Rome in 1775, continuing in a long tour of the courts of the capital cities of Europe. In 1797 he was made concert director and first violin at the Gewandhaus in Leipzig, a post that he held until 1818, although he also maintained his contacts with the most advanced and influential cultural centers of Europe. He thus enjoyed a florid exchange with some of the most famous teachers and Nevertheless, there is an unmistakably composers of the time, in particular with Cherubini and Kreutzer. The idea that ‘true expression depends on the sound, intonation, movement, taste and aplomb of the measure’ was a constant tenet with Campagnoli, as was his insistence on the need to understand clearly the character of each piece in order to appreciate to the full the composer’s intentions. All this required respect for the exact point in which embellishments have to be added (without exceeding), because: ‘nothing is more beautiful and moving than what is simple’.

Eight years ago, a two-album collection of piano music by Arvo Pärt became a Brilliant Classics best-seller (95053, now reissued on LP), with Jeroen van Veen’s playing capturing both the zeitgeist and the rapturous stillness of the Estonian composer’s aesthetic. ‘Jeroen van Veen’s recording can stand alongside the best from any source, and this set is worthy of high praise in every regard’ (MusicWeb International). ‘All played with insight and a crystalline tone… almost unbearably beautiful’ (BBC Music Magazine). This sequel reprises a selection of those ‘modern classic’ recordings, and adds a trio of newly made recordings for cello and piano. Jeroen van Veen is joined by his pianist wife Sandra, and cellist Joachim Eijlander, to present a portrait of Pärt the man and the composer, attentive to and yet at times purposefully isolated from the turbulent currents of music in the second half of the last century.

The album opens with a new recording of Fratres in its familiar cello-and-piano guise, and continues with masterpieces of ‘new simplicity’ from the 1970s such as Für Alina and Pari Intervallo. Such pieces began to set out the harmonic world of ‘tintinnabuli’, characterized by open and slow-moving harmonies, for which Pärt later became famous worldwide. The Ukuaru Valss affords a rare glimpse of the composer’s lighter side, before an extended version of Für Alina and then the unearthly, imperishable echoes of Spiegel im Spiegel, which distils the sound of Part as much as any other single piece. The album concludes with Pärtomania, a newly written 20-minute tribute to the composer’s soundworld by Jeroen van Veen, scored for the same string-instrument and piano combination as Fratres and Spiegel im Spiegel. Van Veen himself discusses the unique world of Pärt’s music in a booklet introduction.

Born in 1947, Salvatore Sciarrino has been delighting and perplexing his audiences, often at the same time, ever since the mid-60s, though his reputation has long since spread beyond European avant-garde circles, particularly with the opera Luci miei tradici and its stagings in Brussels, New York, Salzburg and Berlin. The basic premises of Sciarrino’s language explore the limits of perception, the borderline between sound and silence, and the abstraction of gestures and forms from the tonal contexts that supply them. ‘I don't write music, I write a psychological experience,’ Sciarrino he declared, and his output certainly resists description or classification except insofar as it takes its place in a grand tradition of Italian postwar experimentalists in the laboratory of sound, headed by figures as diverse as Luciano Berio and Luigi Nono.

Even at the level of his works for orchestra and the stage, Sciarrino writes with an immediacy and intimacy of expression which finds its natural home in the kind of chamber ensemble works recorded here. Scored for flute, guitar, bass clarinet and violin, the album’s title work dates from 1986 and lives up to its title by discovering how many shades of sound can be found near the border with silence, a sonic analogue to a Rothko painting or an Agnes Martin drawing. Vagabonde blu makes full use of the accordion’s potential to set weightless and ceaseless waves of sound in motion. By contrast, the scoring of alto flute, cor anglais and bass flute makes Muro d’orizzonte a study in furtive attacks and explosions. The most recent work is Alba meònia from 2020, receiving its first recording on this album, and scattering its timbres across a still wider soundscape through the diverse scoring for flute, violin and guitar.

This recording showcases 3 string quartets by 3 Galician composers from 3 consecutive centuries. Each composer represents the experiences of their respective lifetimes in Galicia, a place with a true vocation for universality. Marcial del Adalid (1826–1881) was born into a family with a great musical tradition. After studying in London with Ignaz Moscheles, one of Beethoven’s disciples, Adalid became one of the main representatives of the ‘Rexurdimento’, a Romantic nationalist movement in Galicia. The String Quartet in G Op.16 was the author's only foray into this genre. The four movements follow the pathway set by Beethoven, and echoes of his Sonata Pathétique can be heard; later, the final section recalls the transparent classicism of the Haydnian rondos.

José Arriola (1895–1954), was a famous pianist and composer. A child prodigy, he was sponsored by the Queen Regent María Cristina who gave him a scholarship to study in Germany with Richard Strauss. Arriola's String Quartet in C, dedicated to the memory of his mother, presents writing imbued with Germanic post-romanticism, the legacy of Strauss’s teachings. A work of great depth, Arriola creates a dense polyphonic framework while eliminating ornaments, giving the piece great lyrical intensity.

Juan Durán (b.1960) is one of the most representative composers of the current generation of Galician artists. He has written many pieces for chamber, symphonic, vocal and stage genres, as well as orchestrations of Galician music. The most striking aspect of his String Quartet is, without a doubt, the choice of the three movements that make it up: a pasodoble, a blues and a samba. Durán wanted to heighten the classical form through maintaining its sonata structure. Therefore, the pasodoble acts as the exposition section, the blues is the development, and the energetic final samba is structured around the recurring rondo.

The forgotten art of a 17th-century Roman master, in the hands of a dynamic period ensemble with a string of acclaimed rarity albums to their credit.
The Baroque trio-sonata repertoire still yields up plenty of undiscovered treasure lying in libraries across Italy. The Ensemble Giardino di Delizie has been diving into it and coming up with polished gems on Brilliant Classics by Stradella (96079), Colista (96033) and Lonati (95590). Like Colista, Carlo Mannelli (1640-1697) was Roman by birth and training. He sang and played the violin for ensembles at both church and court, and was permitted to dedicate his Op.2 collection to Cardinal Benedetto Pamphilj. Perhaps it was the patronage of this influential family that opened doors to his training with Michelangelo Rossi, and to distinguished musical societies in Rome. Another noble Roman family was the recipient of Mannelli’s Op.3 collection of trio sonatas, with its dedication to Prince Domenico Rospigliosi. Much of the composer’s output is now lost, and we can only surmise at the riches deprived to us by time, given the fresh melodic invention of what survives here. Compared to Stradella and co, Mannelli cuts an eccentric, highly individual figure, musically speaking, and he has no interest in the orderliness of Corelli. The arrangement of slow and fast movements is unpredictable: the four-movement No. 10 begins with three separate Adagios! The six-movement No.9 cuts a sequence of four slow movements in half with a fugue, and so on. Three of the twelve sonatas feature a ravishing aria for the violin, who takes on a soloist’s role. When Mannelli writes quick music, he pushes his musicians to the limits, as in the finale of the First Sonata. Counterpoint is subordinate to the kind of highly elaborate violin writing at which Ewa Anna Augustynowicz has already shown herself to excel in previous albums, making this new recording an essential acquisition for Baroque-music aficionados. Carlo Mannelli (Rome, 1640-1697) spent the major part of his life in Rome where he also worked during the opera performances and religious events. As a violinist nicknamed Carlo del Violino and Carluccio di Pamfili, he played the first violin in the most famous Roman musical ensembles of the period. Arcangelo Corelli, who often played under Mannelli, described him as one of his most influential teachers. For several years, Mannelli was leader of the famous Congregetione di S. Cecilia. The Trio Sonatas Op.3 consists of twelve Sonatas. Seven of them are in four movements, two are in six movements and only one (the last) is in three movements. They display a freshness of melodic invention and sometimes daring harmonic surprises, a great tonal richness and unexpected, highly expressive chromatic phrases. The ensemble Giardino di Delizie is a Roman female Baroque group, founded in 2014 by the violinist Ewa Anna Augustynowicz, researching and performing forgotten treasures from the Italian and Polish Baroque. They played in such ensembles as Europa Galante, Les Eléments, Quatuor Mosaïques and others. Their previous recordings of instrumental works by Lonati, Stradella, Colista and Leonarda met with enthusiast critical acclaim in the international press: ‘The performance sounds completely natural, full of spontaneity and bursting energy. It’s clear the group really likes this music and does not merely try and lecture it.’ (Lonati, 95590 theclassicreview.com). ‘Giardino di Delizie… take an energetic and imaginative approach to this fine music… playing with sensitivity and considerable musicality.’ (Colista, 96033, earlymusicreview.com). ‘A garden of delights, sensitively and beautifully performed, perfect for any lover of the Baroque.’ (Gems of the Polish Baroque, 95955, MusicWeb International).

Choro et Organo by Bernardino Bottazzi (1560–1614) may be considered the most extensive and best-known collection of Italian organ works from the early 17th century. In the beautiful edition printed by Giacomo Vincenti, the musical notation used relates to a tradition that is more Renaissance than early baroque: namely, Italian tablature for organ (in this case, with an eight-line stave for the left hand and one of five lines for the right). There are 22 hymns in Choro et Organo. For some of these, Bottazzi’s organ verset is identical, for example Christe Redemptor omnium, whose melody is the same as that sung for the feast of All Saints although with a slightly different text. We know for certain that vocal forces and organ followed a pattern of alternation which, in Bottazzi’s case, seems fully in line with the practices as evidenced by analogous works from the same period: 5 versets for the Kyrie, 9 for the Gloria, 2 for the Sanctus and just 1 for the Agnus Dei, given that – according to Adriano Banchieri (1608) – the last of the three Agnus Dei would be replaced by an organ composition, generally a canzona. It is possible that a collection of canzonas, as well as a number of Magnificats and ricercars, might have formed the basis of a hypothetical second book of Choro et Organo, given that the title on the frontispiece incorporates the standard term of ‘Libro Primo’. Regrettably, we have no information, either on such a follow-up publication, nor indeed about Bottazzi’s own life, other than his self-description as coming from Ferrara (which may only have been a city he resided in or where he took his religious vows rather than where he was actually born). Before each of the organ versets, the beautiful edition of Choro et Organo always presents the melody in cantus firmus, written on a five-line stave. In his introductory text (‘To the gentle reader’), Bottazzi states that he ‘was resolved to have this part of the cantus firmus printed’ so as to circumvent the organist from playing the verset in question at such a pitch as to impede the choir from singing their own melodic part well (‘[…] if the cantus firmus is at one pitch, & the Organist plays it at another, it is impossible for the Chorister to find the correct note’). This unusual feature has allowed the cantus firmus part to be reconstructed with historical accuracy and for it to be sung according to the performance style that emerges from the vast instructional literature on cantus firmus that was produced in Italy during the 17th century. For the number of pieces and the completeness of the repertoire gathered in a single volume, the Choro et Organo by Bernardino Bottazzi (Venice 1614), can be considered the largest and best known Italian collection of organ works intended explicitly for the liturgy of the first three decades of Seventeenth century. Bottazzi's intentions are based on the directions by the Council of Trent which lay out the new rules and specifications of Liturgical Music. To the anthology of organ works the Choro et Organo prefaces an introduction and eighteen Avvertimenti that illustrate the principles of canonical counterpoint (with the intention of educating the organist on the method of composing and improvising from still chant) and offer some suggestions on how to diminish certain melodies and add embellishments. This new recording presents choral works and organ works written by Bottazzi, all splendid examples of Italian sacred music in the transition from Renaissance to Baroque. Played on a rare historic organ: The organ at the church of S. Bernardino da Siena. Played and sung with total dedication and deep knowledge of the style by organist Federico Del Sordo and Nova Schola Gregoriana conducted by Alberto Turco, who already successfully recorded similar repertoire for Brilliant Classics: Organ Alternatim Masses by Merulo, Fasolo and Salvatore. The scholarly written liner notes are by the artists.

The pieces presented here are ascribed to a composer whose life appears to be both mysterious and adventurous: quite little of Agostino Tinazzoli is known, including biographical details such as his occupations, teachers and places of residence (except for limited, incomplete information). However, some unusual facts preserved through his music illustrate that this composer had no ordinary life. The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians informs us that Agostino Tinazzoli was born in Bologna during the second half of the 17th century, quite possibly around 1660. Most of the works attributed to Tinazzoli concern sacred music, including various oratorios (such as Il sacrifizio di Gefte), and masses (such as an incomplete Requiem). This collection of solo keyboard music comes from two manuscripts currently preserved in Münster and Bologna. The former contains all the pieces included in the two CDs, while the latter includes Toccata No.18 and a larger version of the Toccata No.17 including all the movements performed (the Münster manuscript contains only the first movement). Four of the pieces of the collection are specified for the organ, and they are intended to be used during the Mass: there are two Offertorios, one Elevazione and a Post Agnus, and all of them are titled Sonata.

Tinazzoli assigns the terms Sonata, Toccata, and Capriccio to these pieces (except for the Passagallo), but there is seemingly no criteria for the choice of name. The collection employs a wide range of styles and formal structures: there are concerto-like pieces (Toccata No.17, Sonata no.4), as well as fugato pieces (Sonata No.11), and dance movements (for example, the Sarabanda in Sonata No.4, or the concluding Minuetto in Capriccio No.3). While we are unable to determine a precise timeframe of composition, it seems that even if the pieces may have been composed in disparate years Tinazzoli remained well informed throughout his career about the stylistic developments occurring in Italy and Europe in his day: the organ pieces, for example, adhere to the late-18th-century style, which was fundamentally more operatic. The most important feature of these pieces, however, is the pervasive employment of basso continuo: the pieces are almost constantly notated in two voices (treble and bass) but with figured bass numerals throughout. In this collection, Pierini has employed basso continuo and improvisation features in the most stylistically appropriate way, considering the wide range of styles included.

The pieces presented here are ascribed to a composer whose life appears to be both mysterious and adventurous at the same time: little of Agostino Tinazzoli (ca 1660-1725) is known, as concerns biographical details such as his living places, his teachers, and the job positions he held. However, some unusual facts preserved through his music make clear that this composer probably had no ordinary life: during his stay in Rome he probably committed, or was involved, in an unspecified crime: for this reason, he got incarcerated in Castel Sant’Angelo, Rome, which during Tinazzoli’s time was partly used as a city jail. Here he continued to compose: his cantata “In Carcere penoso” was written with carbon on the prison wall, and its beauty prompted his immediate release from jail. This collection of Tinazzoli’s keyboard music employs a wide range of styles and formal structures: we have concerto-like pieces (Toccata No.17, Sonata no. 4), as well as fugato pieces (Sonata No.11), and dance movements (the Sarabanda in Sonata No.4). The most important feature of these pieces, however, is the massive employment of basso continuo: the pieces are almost everywhere notated in two voices (treble and bass), but continuo numeration is employed everywhere. This means that the performer has to add other voices, or remove them in order to make dynamic effects, and sometimes even to improvise counterpoint, according to stylistic continuo rules in early 18th century’s Italy.

Born in Rome in 1996, Simone Pierini began studying music at the age of eight. Aged eighteen, he graduated in piano at S. Cecilia Conservatory of Music, Rome, with highest honors, and consequently took part in masterclasses and post-graduate courses. He afterwards grew interest in historically informed piano practice, attending masterclasses led by Alexei Lubimov, Andreas Staier, Tobias Koch, Stefano Fiuzzi. Subsequently, his interest about historical keyboards in general grew further, and he began studying harpsichord and basso continuo with such teachers as Andrea Coen and Giovanni Togni. He builds an active concert career.

Close to the Schumanns and admired by Mendelssohn and Wagner, Theodor Kirchner (1823–1903) was an accomplished pianist, organist, and composer in his own right. His lifelong friendship with Brahms began when the two men met at the spa town of Baden-Baden in 1865. Robert Schumann had already mentioned him in the same breath as Brahms in the influential 1853 article which effectively launched Brahms’s career. While Kirchner pursued his own, less celebrated career as a composer, he found a reliable subsidiary source of income in making the kind of arrangements through which many listeners made their first encounters with larger-scale works. He seems to have specialized in doing this for Brahms, who regarded him as an outstanding craftsman in this respect.

The developmental stages of the clarinet are marked by repeated interest in improving the instrument at crucial stages in its history, definitively accomplished in an ‘accelerated’ manner during the course of the 19th century thanks to daring projects that led to an extraordinary evolution. Consequently, interest in writing aimed at probing the peculiarities of the instrument was accentuated, with French composers' attention directed towards exploring the thousands of new expressive and technical possibilities, creating a catalogue of great interest demostrating both the instrumentalists’ mastery as well as musical effects to dazzle listeners. The pieces selected for this album clearly echo that production, originating in the shadow of the Parisian conservatoire and intended to test the potential of young performers while probing the musical languages of the time, whose aesthetics were as varied as eve. Coquard's Melodie et Scherzetto, from 1904, sprang from the pen as an examination piece, a score in which technical and expressive aspects converge with a highly captivating melodic writing. In Claude Debussy's Petite pièce, the varied dynamics, combined with the near ‘improvisational’ flow of the rhythmic-melodic material, make the piece fascinating and pleasant to listen to. As is Rabaud's Solo de Concours Op.10, with its surprising texture entrusted to the clarinet right from the start in the form of a solo of considerable complexity. Messager's own Solo de Concours is rich in captivating chromaticism riven by diatonic segments. Paul Pierné's score, on the other hand, is an exercise in style, blending ‘rhetorical’ images and ‘French-style’ speculations. His cousin Gabriel’s Canzonetta of 1888 brings forth a sampler of melodies, giving rise to a path of great lyricism. The use of such sonorous imagery is in common with that of Paul Jeanjean, whose Arabesques is imbued with seductive designs aimed at enhancing the potential of the instrument, on which he was an acclaimed virtuoso. Cahuzac belongs to this category, as well, and with his Cantilène he dwells in the soundscapes of his southern France, irradiating it with a Mediterranean luminosity. Cultural belonging is a peculiar characteristic of composers living in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, as Semler-Collery demonstrates when he pilots his Rêverie et scherzo through the turbulence of early-20th-century French style. Honegger's choice for his Sonatine has a completely different origin. With its mysterious beginning founded on skillful chromaticism with vague oriental echoes, the subsequent Lent et soutenu reveals a greater rigour in that same sound path, entrusted to the woodwind, austere and mysterious. It is with the Vif et rythmique that the “restlessness” is laid to rest in order to rely on “improvisational” sonorities that wink at agile and impertinent jazz gestures.

New recordings of signature works by a young and tragically short-lived lion of the keyboard in late 18th-century France. This is the most extensive set of records ever dedicated to the music of Hyacinthe Jadin, sure to attract the attention of all aficionados of keyboard rarities, especially as performed by the Polish harpsichordist and pianist Marek Toporowski, with his encyclopedic understanding of Baroque and early-Classical repertoire. Born in Versailles in 1776, Jadin grew up in a musical family and was educated in both the French and German traditions, something unusual at the time. His professional career was brief; he was appointed to the Conservatoire in 1795 as one of its first professors of piano, and fell ill from the tuberculosis that would take his life in 1800. Jadin’s surviving output includes six quartets, four piano concertos, and several violin sonatas. From the evidence of these nine piano sonatas – three for each published opus number – we may hear in Jadin an astonishingly gifted composer whose music foreshadows the Romantic era – even at points the expressive poignancy of Schubert. Writing in major keys, Jadin’s elegant facility belongs to his own Classical age; it is when he ventures into remote minortonalities, such as the F sharp minor Sonata Op.4 No.2, that he seems to look forward to another, more personal age of expression. In all cases, however, Jadin evidently took Haydn as a model, for his themes are unfailingly compact and elegantly conceived for the keyboard, his development sections are likewise concise while enlivened with touches of ingenious modulation between keys. In his booklet essay, introducing Jadin’s life and work, Marek Toporowski makes the case for the composer as a French-born Dussek, an outstandingly original figure and one of the great ‘might-have-beens’ of musical history. His stylish performances on a modern copy of a Walter fortepiano support such a claim, as well as affording much delight in their own right.

A first on record: two sets of sonatas by an English contemporary of Handel and Johann Christian Bach; painting a lively portrait of chamber music in London during the middle of the 18th century. John Stanley (1712-1786) was a Londoner; active there as a musician and composer his whole life. He composed during the period in transition from the high Baroque to the bold new Galant style exemplified in London in the works of Johann Christian Bach; the youngest son of JS Bach. Though almost blind from childhood; he graduated from Oxford at the age of 17; and five years later became organist at the Inner Temple Church; a post he kept until his death. His first published collection of original works was issued in 1740; as eight Sonatas Op.1 for flute or violin and harpsichord. All the sonatas in this collection; apart from the last one; begin with a slow movement and end with a dance movement. In following this Baroque form; Stanley achieves an attractive synthesis between the austere style of the church sonata with that of the more sensual style of chamber sonata. Handel acted as both friend and mentor to Stanley; and this relationship bears fruit in the lively dialogue between melody and accompanying voices. On this recording the continuo is expanded in 18th century style by adding a string bass to the harpsichord; infusing the soundworld with variety and richness of timbre. The later Op.4 collection of six sonatas was published five years later; in 1745. Accordingly it incorporates more up-to-date elements of the galant style in which contrapuntal imitation and dialogue is replaced by a more marked distinction between an increasingly virtuosic approach to the melodic voice and a supportive accompaniment; so that the flautist is set to work with every melodic artifice: scales; arpeggios; jumps; ornamentation. Stanley’s invention is the mark of a spontaneous; individual yet immaculately crafted voice which encompasses both a simple; sober style and a more sensual style where counterpoint and dance live together naturally. The harpsichordist Nicola Bisotti supplies a detailed introduction to these charming works in the booklet essay. For the recording he is joined by the Albanian flautist Daorsa Dervishi; a founder-member of the Albanian Baroque Ensemble which has done groundbreaking work in advancing the culture of historically informed performance in her country.

Csaba Szabó (1936–2003) composed music in almost all genres: orchestral and vocal/choral-orchestral works, chamber music, songs, choral works, staged works, incidental musical for theatre, and solos. From this important and varied oeuvre, this recording presents the complete works for piano solo of Csaba Szabó.

His piano pieces were composed over a period of almost three decades, between 1955 and 1981, and it is striking to hear the extraordinary transformations in form, technique, and richness of message that the composer’s style underwent.

He was born in Ákosfalva (Acățari), Transylvania (Romania), in 1936 and graduated in composition from the G. Dima Academy of Music in Cluj-Napoca (Kolozsvár) under the tutelage of Gábor Jodál and János Jagamas, themselves both students of Zoltán Kodály. His first piano pieces are youthful compositions in which – beyond an abundant joy of composing for the piano – we discover his preferences and sources of inspiration: the appreciation of classical formal structures in the Studies: Vivace e Trio and playful Scherzando, the variation form (the composer’s favorite) in the 5 Variations, expressive and dramatic virtuosity in the Bagatel and the Little Suite’s Toccatino ungharese movement, and the accumulation of percussive effects in the Dance with the Fate. His studies and research into folk music led to inspiration from folk-song: the four movements of the Little Suite are a fine example of this, but perhaps even more beautiful are the Roaming Tune and the large-scale variations Moving away. The Parlando, Giusto e Corale, written in 1973, surprises the listener with a truly avant-garde turn.

An obscure corner of the French Baroque illuminated: the only available recording of the sole extant collection by a Parisian organist and composer. About Pierre-Thomas Dufour, almost nothing is now known for certain beyond his death in Paris, on 30 December 1786, and the publication in 1770 of this collection of harpsichord pieces bearing his name. He probably wrote a good deal else, both for harpsichord and organ, given that the title page of the collection informs us that Dufour was organist of the Eglise de Saint-Jean-en-Grève and the Eglise Saint-Laurent, both in Paris.

The collection is divided between dances (gigues, courantes, allemandes and musettes), and stylised evocations indicated by their titles after the fashion of Couperin: ‘The Blacksmiths’, ‘The Doves’ and so on. In his booklet essay, the harpsichordist Fernando De Luca observes that these tone-poems are no less vividly coloured and dramatized than contemporary canvases by Boucher and Watteau.

There are also two self-contained solo concertos for the instrument, in B flat and E flat major. Cast in the conventional three movements, the concertos share a grandeur of spirit with the more stately of the individual pieces such as ‘La Triomphante’ and ‘La Sincere’. Despite his obscurity, there is no reason to regard Dufour as a ‘lesser’ composer on the evidence of this slender collection, especially now that it is recorded in its entirety. A portrait emerges through it of Dufour himself, as a cultivated and cosmopolitan musician, well aware of contemporary trends not only in French music but further abroad, especially in the Italianate dash of the two concertos. The collection closes with a spectacular Carillon in imitation of the church-bells which rang throughout Paris (and every other European city) on the quarter-hour.

Fernando De Luca has accumulated an impressive discography for Brilliant Classics, including substantial and equally pioneering sets of the complete harpsichord music by Christoph Graupner (96131) and Christophe Moyreau (96285). ‘There is much to admire about this recording project… a monumental enterprise… [listeners will admire] both Graupner’s and De Luca’s facility, being rewarded with some attractive music confidently delivered.’ (Early Music Review)

The organ played a relatively large part in Franz Liszt’s oeuvre, and there are dual organ and piano versions of a number of his works, but some of the pieces specifically intended for piano also translate well to the organ.

This album consists of four organ transcriptions of such piano works. It begins with a wedding (Sposalizio) and ends with a funeral procession (La lugubre gondola), both life moments often associated with church and therefore with the organ, and Liszt employs a church-bell motive in them. In the Sposalizio, as well as in the Adagio (Consolation in D flat) that follows on this programme, there is a typical 19th-century musical religiosity that was also very characteristic of Liszt. His monumental Sonata in B minor is then succeeded by La lugubre gondola, a dark epilogue once again emphasising Liszt’s musical progressiveness and emotional depth.

The heart of this album is the Sonata in B minor in a new transcription. Although it has already been transcribed for organ, the present transcription is specifically intended for the 18th- or 19th-century Dutch metropolitan type of organ, an outstanding example of which is the main organ at the Domkerk (St. Martin’s Cathedral), Utrecht. There is even a historical link between this particular instrument and Liszt’s organ repertoire. In the summer of 1856, Liszt’s student Alexander Winterberger (1834–1914) undertook a tour of the Netherlands, including a performance at the Utrecht Domkerk, which was positively received by the press, with Liszt, too, enthusiastic.

Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach wrote this set of six keyboard concertos Wq43 once he had been released from the constricting service to Frederick the Great of Prussia. Published in 1772, these concertos are among the first-fruits of such liberated imagination. The solo parts of these works will test the mettle of any aspiring or proven virtuoso. Their greatest originality, though, lies in their form.

Each concerto is written cyclically, or continuously, meaning that one movement leads directly into the next. Even the cadenzas are fully written out, anticipating in this regard Beethoven’s ‘Emperor’ Concerto of two generations later.

The panoply of CPE’s instrumentation is necessarily compressed by this transcription of the concertos for two harpsichords, but the vitality of dialogue is fully preserved. It was made (or at least copied) by Johann Gottlieb Haußstädler, a copyist working for Peter August, the organist for the Elector of Saxony. The two men may have collaborated on the arrangement; at any rate, it has been unknown until now, and comes to life in the hands of a pair of Italian musicians with a serious pedigree in recording music of this period for Brilliant Classics.

Mélanie Bonis was one of the most interesting and prolific composers in France in the 20 years before the First World War. Obsessed with striking a balance between music and family, she came to notoriety late, becoming the first woman on the board of the Society of Music Composers. Nevertheless, The Great War put an end to any further publication, with Bonis devoting herself to sacred music (for organ or voice) and pedagogical works. She left a large amount of unpublished material to posterity, however, which demonstrates a knowledge of compositional and orchestrational technique unfairly neglected in her lifetime.

Bonis’s talents found expression in many genres, and the piano was undoubtedly her favorite instrument. Nevertheless, in her chamber music scores the flute is often the protagonist, and in the flute repertoire, Bonis’s chamber music output bridges the gap between Romanticism and Impressionism.

For the Cordas et Bentu Duo, Sardinia has always been a source of inspiration; the ensemble’s name, Sardinian for “strings and wind”, is an homage to the island’s culture. Apeddu and Luciani’s mission to find original compositions connected to their roots began after hearing the stunning Acabbadora for guitar by Francesco Morittu, and the Duo would commission a new work from him: Attítus for alto flute and guitar. That was the first step in a project that went on to see them commission a range of composers from Sardinia and beyond to write music celebrating Sardinia. Traditionally, families would gather in front of the fire after dinner to tell each other stories from legends and ancient myths. Contos de foghile (Tales from the fireside), by the Sardinian composer Roberto Piana, is divided into four short episodes, each dedicated to a different story. The island’s fascinating mythology includes epic tales, monstrous creatures and legendary beings, and without a doubt the key players in these fables are the Janas, beautiful little creatures with a dark side – at times fairies or witches – who have extremely delicate skin that must avoid sunlight. These five short compositions depict a few moments from the lives of these mythological creatures, from the moment they wake until the dawn, when they go back into their caves to avoid being burned. According to Sardinian tradition, the Attítus are laments sung by wailers at a funeral. These dirges are highly repetitive in nature but can change suddenly and take on a very different tone depending on what the singer wants to express about the deceased. This piece is made up of four episodes. Composed at the height of lockdown in March 2020, it came from the need to give grant some mental space to death, understood in cultural rather than biological terms. As the title suggests, Memorie di Nora is a piece that takes inspiration from the archaeological site of the same name and is intended to evoke a possible imagined past for it. The composition, formally a fantasia, is made up of several parts that flow seamlessly from one to the next, invoking ancient rituals and dances as if to celebrate their survival in the traces of temples and mosaics overlooking the sea. Ammentos de siddhàdos et janas (Memories of treasures and fairies) is a short suite, originally titled Three Sardinian impressions, that expresses the composer’s emotions, thoughts and memories from his brief stay on the island. A unique piece inspired by the birthplace of the musicians to whom it is dedicated, Concertino di Alghero is an homage to Maria Chessa Lai, a primary school teacher and poet who wrote predominantly in Algherese. This dialect, an ancient branch of Catalan, is a linguistic island within an island. The work’s three movements trace a musical outline of one of many possible readings of Maria Chessa Lai’s Algherese poem En Dins De Mi.

The new focus on Bohemian classicism in
the second half of the 18th century,
manifested in recent recordings and articles
in professional journals, has amply
demonstrated the calibre of these
composers and the quality of their music.
Among them, Josef Mysliveček enjoyed
considerable fame during his lifetime. He
was known to such important figures as the
soprano Caterina Gabrielli and was a friend
of Mozart’s, who esteemed him.
Mysliveček’s like many of his
contemporaries strove for musical success
and economic independence through opera
composition, a career that was high-profile
but also challenging in the late 18th
century. And he did not consider the
fortepiano to be as important a vehicle of
expression, unlike Mozart, as can be seen in
his meagre solo keyboard output.
The Six Divertimenti are single-movement
compositions, and while probably
intended as didactic, they are not sterile
exercises for amateurs but exquisite
pieces that satisfy the most discerning
palates. The Six Sonatas are short but
brilliant pieces, based on the galant style
transmuted into a pre-classicism very akin
to the Mannheim school, with energetic
first movements with a symphonic flavour
alternating with elegant and delicate
minuets.
Given the small number of Mysliveček’s
compositions for solo fortepiano, it was
decided to include two additional, rare
pieces worthy of this monograph: two of
his Wind Octets Op.1 in a contemporary
solo keyboard transcription by Václav
Vincenc Mašek. Mysliveček’s writing
features remarkable counterpoint,
compressed by Mašek into an exemplary
arrangement.
This recording is intended as the first on
historical instruments (there is already a box by
Clare Hammond on modern piano with the
Divertimenti for fortepiano, the six Sonatas and
the Concertos for fortepiano and orchestra).
The arranged Octets (most likely never
previously performed, let alone recorded) are
offered as world premieres.
Other information:
● Recorded April 2022 in Colloredo di Prato,
Udine, Italy
● Bartoccini plays a late-18th-century Venetian
fortepiano (Divertimentos) and a Paul McNulty
fortepiano after Anton Walter (Sonatas and
Octets)
● Booklet in English contains liner notes by the
artist and his biography

Within the extensive repertoire of the German composer Paul Hindemith (1895–1963), music for cello and piano occupies a considerable position in terms of both quantity and quality. Hindemith was primarily a violist and conductor, but his wide-ranging interests led him to experiment with a great variety of instruments both as a composer and a player, making him a de facto multi-instrumentalist. Among his favorite instruments, the cello always occupied a special place in his activities, partly due to his collaboration with his brother Rudolf, an excellent cellist.

His original compositions for the specific duo of cello and piano are varied and numerous, offering a synthetic vision of the different stylistic instances of an author who never tired of rethinking and redefining his language. This recording brings together and offers the listener this entire wonderful portion of Hindemith’s catalogue.

The Drei Stücke Op. 8 (1917) are undoubtedly among the most important pieces of the composer’s youthful phase. The later Sonata Op. 11 No. 3, a composition of considerable constructive commitment and complex genesis, is recorded here for the first time in both versions: one from 1919 (lost piano parts reconstructed by Fazil Say), the other from 1921. The delicate and expressive Drei leichte Stücke ‘Cello in first position’, composed in April 1938, are intended for the didactic sphere, without renouncing the peculiarities of the harmonic language of the composer. The same can be said of the brief and melancholic Meditation, a transcription of a movement from Hindemith’s orchestral ballet Nobilissima Visione. More complex is A Frog he went a-courting. Despite its brevity, it is one of the finest pieces on this program. A dozen concise variations, framed by the initial exposition and the concluding return of the traditional English theme, present a wealth of instrumental, timbral, expressive, and dynamic solutions in a small, dense, brilliant display of Hindemith’s compositional mastery. Do not be deceived by the title Kleine Sonate (1942), which is small in size but not in terms of compositional complexity. The imposing Cello Sonata (1948) was written for Gregor Piatigorsky and premiered by him in New York in the year it was composed. Comparing this Sonata to the Sonata Op. 11 No. 3 conveys a sense of the stylistic evolution across some 30 years.

According to Marek Toporowski, the French composer Hyacinthe Jadin (1776–1800) authored ‘the greatest masterpieces of the French literature for the fortepiano from the time of the Revolution.’ Despite dying in poverty from tuberculosis at the age of 25, Jadin accomplished much in his brief life, composing both orchestral and chamber music with a bias towards his own instrument, the piano. This includes concertos and the sonatas featured in this collection, which also offer an optional violin accompaniment. Although several published collections have not survived or been recovered, including a further 12 sonatas for the keyboard.

In a previous album on Brilliant Classics, Toporowski produced a definitive modern recording of Jadin’s Sonatas Opp. 4-6 (96958). In the present collection, he presents Opp. 1 and 3, along with Jadin’s trio of Op.1 string quartets in the composer’s own arrangement for piano and violin. Toporowski finds a pre-Romantic sensibility in this music, with tantalizing anticipations of Schubert, Weber, and even Mendelssohn in Jadin’s heightened language of expression, which ventures far beyond the conventional forms of his contemporaries.

An important point of reference for Jadin was nonetheless the music of Haydn. The Op.1 String Quartets, as played here in the composer’s transcription, are dedicated to Haydn and contain very obvious references to this composer’s style, particularly to his refined modulations. Jadin was also active in Paris while Jan Ladislav Dussek was living in the French capital. As a later co-creator of the London school of piano playing, Dussek seems also to have had a great influence on the young virtuoso. There are salient points of comparison between these sonatas, whether played solo on piano or with their optional violin part, and with the sonatas for the same forces written by Dussek and recently recorded for Brilliant Classics by Petra Somlai, Julia Huber, and Miriam Altmann.

Jadin’s music has never previously been documented in so comprehensive and stylish a manner as in this evolving series from Marek Toporowski, and the quartets receive their first recording in this arrangement, which will appeal to all collectors of Classical-era curios.