Franz Schmidt was not only a brilliant cellist, but also a gifted pianist who mastered almost the entire piano repertoire with ease. Nevertheless, he had a kind of love-hate relationship with the piano. His great love was the organ. However, this did not prevent him from writing numerous works for the left hand (Beethoven Variations, Piano Concerto in E-flat major, Quintets). All of these were commissioned by the one-armed pianist Paul Wittgenstein. For two-handed piano, on the other hand, Schmidt left behind only one composition. It is the melancholic Romance, which he dedicated to his English teacher Geoffrey Sephton in 1922. Karl-Andreas Kolly: 'The fact that I have nevertheless decided to set three of Franz Schmidt’s organ works for piano has primarily to do with my great passion for his music. And also a little with my hope that in a piano version, his organ works could possibly reach an additional audience.'

When the music of Nikolai Kapustin was discovered by a wider audience in the West, it was positively shocking: Who was this Soviet (!) composer, whose music sounded more like an Oscar Peterson improvisation than anything else - but who wrote detailed scores, black with notes?! As we discover more and more of his music and as we again can hear on the present recording, Kapustin developed his style subtly and steadily. He went with the times. As the music that influenced him changed, so did Kapustin's. The development of Big Band Jazz can be traced in his work. In that sense Kapustin never settled on one style (within the parameters of his unique fusion of jazz and classical, granted) but remained flexible about the musical material and the way he related it to the orchestra.

Besides the well-known Left Hand Piano Concertos by Korngold, Prokofiev, Ravel and others, this very first Concert of Josef Labor marks the beginning of this genre in 1915.
One-Handed pianist Paul Wittgenstein ordered it already during his captivity in Russia where he lost his right arm but determined to forward his pianistic career. Labor was part of Johannes Brahms’s close circle of friends. At the age of three, he lost his sight due to smallpox. For him composition was a luxury, insofar as he had to rely on the help of a scribe who had to commit the work to paper. Labor’s music is very skillfully composed, always sensuous, and first and foremost melodious; it does not require a too complete concentration on itself. These World Premiere Recordings marks an highlight of Capriccio's Labor-Edition which focused already since years on this sensitive Music of an mostly forgotten composer.

Ernst von Dohnányi was interested in various inventions throughout his life, so it is not surprising that around 1909–1910 he became one of the main promoters of pianos with a semi-circular keyboard. At that time, they had long been experimenting with creating the most comfortable keyboard possible, with all its parts being at the same distance from the pianist, and being able to play it with the same body and hand position at the bottom, middle or top of the keyboard range. It seems that the Viennese Ludwig Bösendorfer started making pianos with a concave keyboard (Bogenklaviatur) only in 1910, and Dohnányi used them exclusively in the territory of the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy. After Dohnányi moved home to Budapest at the end of 1915, one of his own pianos was the short Clutsam-Bösendorfer, which is currently owned by the Budapest Museum of Music History. This CD offers the first recording of this special instrument after a long time restoration.

Miklós Rózsa feared that success as a film composer might overshadow his reputation as a composer of classical concert fare. He was right. Three Oscars and 17 Academy Award nominations tends to do that. The two worlds were strangely incompatible and forced Rózsa into what he called his “Double Life” – the title of both a film for which he won an Oscar and that of his autobiography. The three orchestral works presented here, from his early, middle and late phases, provide a charming introduction to his alternative side.

REVIEW:

Works like the ones on this album ought to appeal to lovers of any of Rosza’s many film scores; the musical language is not that far off. The orchestra, an underrated regional group, gives crisp performances under conductor Gregor Bühl on a release that should appeal to both film buffs and fans of 20th century music generally.

— AllMusic.com (James Manheim)

Walter Braunfels is a composer whose music died twice: Once when the Nazis declared his music "degenerate art". Then again when post-war Germany had little use for the various schools of tonal music; when the arbiters of taste considered any form of romantic music - almost the whole pre-war aesthetic - to be tainted. This already 10th release of Capriccio's Braunfels Edition focus on one of his most popular Opera works. What makes Jeanne D'Arc such an uncommonly effective music drama is not just the often sumptuous, post-romantic musical language but Braunfels' own libretto. The main storyline of Joan of Arc is known well enough: Vision, liberation of Orleans, coronation of the Dauphin, arrest, trial, and burning at the stake. Braunfels somehow managed to put together a libretto from the original French and Latin 15th-century trial documents of Joan of Arc, a smidgen of by George Bernard Shaw (Saint Joan), and his own additions, that makes this story and it's characters - in so many ways so far removed from a modern audience's sensibilities and reality - relatable to listeners today.

In celebration of the 150th Anniversary this Album focus on still less-known but exceptional sensitive and impressive Choral Symphonic and Orchestra songs by Max Reger. With these works, Reger entirely adhered to the trend of the time; the large-scale idea, which would have had no place in the operas of the period, is transferred to the concert hall, so to speak, and is as far removed from the "simple" orchestral song as some of Mahler's Rückert-Lieder. The Hebbel Requiem, Op. 144b includes audible parallels with Johannes Brahms‘s German Requiem and was Reger’s memorial for the German soldiers killed in the war.

Maria Herz, nee Bing, was born in 1878 in Cologne. By the 1920s, she became to be recognized as a dynamic element of the contemporary music scene. New music's 'chief theoretician', Theodor W. Adorno, became interested in her works and their style, which was rooted in Late Romanticism and aimed at Modernism by way of Expressionism, New Objectivity, and Neo-Baroque, all while retaining it's playful, charming air. She was close to a veritable Who's-Who of contemporary musicians, including the Budapest String Quartett, Gregor Piatigorsky, Emanuel Feuermann, Hermann Abendroth, Otto Klemperer, and Hans Rosbaud. In her lifetime, only five songs (1910) and a transcription of Bach's Chaconne for string quartet (1927) were published, but all her 30 orchestral works, solo concertos, chamber music pieces, and art songs have survived in manuscripts. The Nazis seized her family's assets and forced Maria Herz to emigrate, first to England, and, after the war, to the United States where she lived with her children and died in 1950, in New York.

Emil von Sauer and Conrad Ansorge had the privilege of studying under the legendary Franz Liszt. Liszt himself never claimed to be a teacher but rather an advisor. But anyway, for both of them, these lessons with the world-famous composer and pianist influenced and increased their style and extraordinary capabilities. With this recording Capriccio presents two outstanding and unjustly forgotten piano concertos which shows the deep understanding of musical forms and structures and versatility of the Pupils of Franz Liszt.

In 1908, Maurice Maeterlinck wrote his play The Blue Bird (L’Oiseau bleu). Having proved a good source of operatic subjects before (Pelléas et Mélisande, Ariane et Barbe-Bleue), it is no surprise that composers jumped at the opportunity to write music to this latest. The French composer Albert Wolff made an opera of it that, though premiered at the MET, has since been forgotten. But even before that, in 1912, Max Reinhardt put it on as an adapted Christmas play in Berlin and he had none less than Engelbert Humperdinck write the incidental music to it. The music was never published until Steffen Tast found the score and salvaged it for us to hear. A sweet story and sweeter still music by Humperdinck newly discovered? Why, that’s in and of itself as though it was Christmas!

REVIEW:

Steffen Tast really deserves credit for restoring this work to the repertoire and for giving such a fine and dedicated traversal of the music. One only has to listen to the stately but regretful theme as the children take leave of their grandparents in the land of memories to get a sense of Mr Tast’s rapport with the Rundfunk-Sinfonieorchester Berlin. This music bears a strong resemblance to Mahler, but just until the solo violin takes over with a sentimental theme that is lusciously played by the un-named concertmaster. Tast elegantly shapes the beautifully sketched musical themes for Bread, Fire, Water, and Milk, who all become characters in the play. The Rundfunkchor Berlin gets to briefly display their talents in a Christmas carol arranged in two parts, and then later in a wordless chorus for the expectant mothers welcoming their unborn children. Overall Tast skillfully reveals the richness of Humperdinck’s orchestration in an carefully judged reading of this important score.

-- MusicWeb International

Although he had famous students (i.e. Szymanowski) and teachers (Moniuszko), few listeners know much, if anything, about Zygmunt Noskowski (1846–1909). And yet, for most of the 19th century, he was the primary exponent of modern symphonic music in Poland. As a conductor and concert organizer, he had himself championed the causes of forgotten Polish composers. Now it is Antoni Wit, Noskowski’s successor at the helm of the Warsaw Philharmonic at a distance of 94, who helps out his late-romantic colleague – just as he has already done with the music Zygmunt Stojowski on a previous Capriccio recording (C5464).

REVIEW:

When you listen to the music of Zygmunt Noskowski, you can’t help but notice that all of the elemental characteristics of late 19th century orchestral music are present. The intense seriousness of Brahms, the romantic idealism of Schumann, as well as the folk-influenced melodic writing of Dvorák. And within its overall sunny disposition, it even points to some of Bruckner’s more lighthearted scherzo movements.

There’s a heartwarming ease and charm to the inner slow movements of these symphonies, as well as dramatic and rhythmic fervor to the outer movements. All aspects that Polish conductor Antoni Wit brings to the forefront. The members of the Deutsche Staatsphilharmonie Rheinland-Pfalz perform this music with enthusiasm and the same attention to expressive details they would apply to any and all repertoire standbys and warhorses. Makes you wonder why Zygmunt Noskowski’s name doesn’t come up to the surface more often.

-- Classical Music Sentinel

The score of The Prophets, intended as the last act of The Eternal Road, was the last that Kurt Weill composed in Europe and his last extensive setting in German, before he personally and professionally adopted the language of his new home, America. Musically, he drew on all his previous great works, from Mahagonny and the Seven Deadly Sins to his Second Symphony. At the same time, he foreshadowed some of his soon-to-be-written works for Broadway.

In 1998 David Drew devised the concert adaptation of this act, of which this is the premiere’s recording. The Four Walt Whitman Songs, meanwhile, were a product of the war years and reveal Weill at his most touchingly American, fusing American theater song with the German Lied, Berlin with Brooklyn.

As the Staatskapelle Berlin begins to look for its next music director (only the fourth since 1955!), this release finds the band’s own winds turning to Richard Strauss, who held the job some 110+ years ago. Together, they recorded their old chief conductors’ complete music for winds, including rarities like the Sonatinas “From an Invalid’s Workshop” and “The Happy Workshop” which Strauss dedicated to Mozart. Covering Strauss’ very early and very late creative output, the four pieces (plus the Eulenspiegel arrangement), give a fascinating insight into the development of Strauss, a horn player’s son.

REVIEW:

More Richard Strauss here in this comprehensive release which shows a range of different music for different combinations of wind. There are moments of lightness and drama here, the juxtaposition of which is highlighted for me in the 3rd movement of the Suite in B flat major for 13 wind instruments – light, playful flutes sit alongside the more demonstrative brass with its repeated downward motive which has a slightly sinister feel. Music that should be more widely heard.

-- Lark Reviews

Alfred Schnittke's film music encapsulates almost everything that characterises the Russian composer's compositional style. A self-described polystylist, he began writing for film in the 1960s, penning 66 film scores between 1962 and 1984 for Soviet film companies. His method of drawing on the past was rejected by the avant-garde but embraced by filmgoers and concertgoers too. Volume six in this CD Edition of Schnittke's film music presents music from the film series "Little Tragedies" (1979) based on popular novels by Alexander Pushkin. After longtime research conductor Vladimir Jurowski also recorded all parts of the score which have been cancelled at the end for the final Film Version.

When the music of Nikolai Kapustin was discovered by a wider audience in the West, it was positively shocking: Who was this Soviet (!) composer, whose music sounded more like an Oscar Peterson improvisation than anything else – but who wrote detailed scores, black with notes?! As we discover more and more of his music (and there’s so much more yet to discover!), a very distinct, always wholly charming voice emerges, whether in a freewheeling outright-jazzy work like his Concerto for 2 Pianos and Percussion, the more symphonic Fifth Piano Concerto, or the frisky Sinfonietta which transports us into a smoky 1940s bar in Manhattan.

REVIEWS:

Pianist Frank Dupree, with his stupendous pianistic bravura, his glowing personal commitment, and ultimately his standard-setting recordings, allows us to understand Kapustin's genius in all its stylistic range.

The Fifth Piano Concerto Op. 72, written in 1993 for the pianist Nikolai Petrov, is characterized by incredible virtuosity. The stylistic parallels to the US music tradition and in particular to George Gershwin, are emphasized again and again.

Second on the album is a later work by the composer, namely the Concerto for 2 Pianos and Percussion Op. 104 from 2002. Is it presumptuous to interpret this glittering, entertaining, exuberantly celebrating life and yet formally quite concise piece as a hymn to freedom. From a purely musical point of view, a real event can be reported: Frank Dupree and the equally young Adrian Brendle form Kapustin's exuberant concert session in swirling concordance with the percussionists Meinhard 'Obi' Jenne and Franz Bach under the musical direction of Dominik Beykirch and the stylish Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra to an impasto big band sound full of wispy shooting star sounds.

The album concludes with the Sinfonietta for Piano Four Hands Op. 49 with the movements Overture, Allegro; Slow Waltz, Larghetto; Intermezzo, Allegretto and Rondo, Presto. Commissioned by the Soviet Ministry of Culture in 1987, the “little symphony” was first set for an orchestral version, and is performed here in an arrangement by the composer for piano four hands. The two mood cannons Dupree and Brendle swept across the keyboard like a roaring whirlwind, doing bella figura in the languid three-four bar slow waltz, before escorting us out of the album into the silence with intricate rhythms and a furious finale.

-- Merker Online (Germany)

When Toscanini encouraged Nino Rota to study at the Curtis Institute, where instructions by Fritz Reiner and a friendship with Aaron Copland awaited the precocious composer, it was already clear he would have a massive career. Only the direction wasn’t certain yet. It turned out to be classical music and film music, the former informing the latter. Notable when you listen to the delicious waltz Rota from War & Peace or the darkly humorous snippets from the very apropos Orchestra Rehearsal. And while the de-facto horn concertino Castel del Monte, inspired by King Frederick II’s famous medieval castle in southern Italy, isn’t technically film music, it very much sounds like music to a fantasy film of Rota’s imagining.

REVIEW:

As a sampler of the range and effectiveness of the music he wrote, this new disc from Capriccio is excellent. The orchestra play this presumably unfamiliar music with great skill and real flair, aided by a very immediate and lush recording. Add a total playing time of just under 84 minutes for this single disc and the appeal is clear.

I would encourage curious collectors to seek out more of Rota’s orchestral and symphonic works. For all the qualities of his film scores he is much more than just the composer of music for Fellini or The Godfather. This disc provides a valuable overview of his range and style – excitingly played and boldly recorded.

-- MusicWeb International (Nick Barnard)

Krzysztof Penderecki’s works for (string) quartet neatly encapsulate the stylistic breadth and trace the development of Poland’s most important modern composer throughout his six-decade-long career. From the avantgarde rhythmical study that is Quartet No.1, via an ode to Webern, to the neo-romantic elder Penderecki’s Schubertian Clarinet Quartet, this collection covers all his chamber music for three and four strings, even the early neo-baroque outlier of his Three Pieces adapted from his film music for the steamy 1964 movie, The Saragossa Manuscript.

REVIEW:

From wild child of the experimental avant-garde to luscious neo-Romantic, Krzysztof Penderecki had an unusually profound stylistic transformation across his career. When his string quartets neatly encapsulate that trajectory, written as they were between 1960 and 2016, it’s no mean feat to pull off the entire cycle in consistently convincing and compelling fashion. Yet, that is what the Meccore Quartet has done here.

-- The Strad

The two works recorded on this disc both come from a creative period at the beginning of the 1930s. In terms of style, with his works linked to basic tonalities, Weigl drew on the sound realm of late Romanticism, from whose aesthetics he never departed in favour of more progressive contemporary trends. Weigl’s knack for orchestration shows both in the hymnic climaxes as well as the chamber music-like passages. Weigl never lived to hear any performances of either his Third Symphony or the Symphonic Prelude. Like so many of his larger works, these scores were not (re-)discovered until interest in Weigl’s music resurged decades later. This release allows audiences to hear both works for the first time on record.

REVIEW:

Stylistically, the pieces clearly show Weigl’s own voice, even as they remain close to the late-Romantic symphonic style.

The symphony's rich palette of development and treatment leads from intimate moments of chamber music to grand climaxes. The large orchestration of the Symphonic Prelude indicates that it was intended for the concert hall rather than as incidental music. Overall, the works remain rooted in traditional sounds.

Weigl was unable to experience performances of these works. The new interest in his music is also reflected in these premiere recordings. The Deutsche Staatsphilharmonie Rheinland-Pfalz and conductor Jürgen Bruns illuminate these works with successful commitment.

— Pizzicato (Uwe Krusch)

Whenever Gustav Mahler spoke of Beethoven, he did so with an air of reverence: "Among poets and composers of more recent times we can, perhaps, name but three: Shakespeare, Beethoven, and Wagner." And yet, Mahler the conductor considered Beethoven's scores primarily a challenge; material that needed adapting and adopting to the orchestras and concert halls of his time. Richard Wagner had already prepared Beethoven's scores and written about it in great detail. The balance of sound of the classical orchestra was off, and a return to previous states was out of the question, given the increased size of the concert halls. People knew of their existence, but it was not until 1927 that Erwin Stein, the composer, pianist, and music journalist active in Schoenberg's circles, was able to report that all of Mahler's conductor's scores, replete with his "Retuschen" (retouchings), had in fact survived.

The closest Leo Blech (1880–1959) gets to fame these days is being mistaken for Ernest Bloch. Actually, some might still remember his seminal work as an opera conductor in Berlin, where he worked for almost half a century (except for the Nazi years, when he lived in exile, avoiding a far worse fate). But his compositions – either operas or involving the voice in some other way – have disappeared from the repertoire. What a shame, because his music is, while less probing than that of his contemporary Bloch’s, very much charming in the style of, say, Humperdinck or Rheinberger. This release constitutes the first part of an upcoming celebration of Blech by Capriccio, which will later release a 2-CD recording of his opera The Alpine King and the Misanthrope.

REVIEW:

In the times we are living through, the music of Leo Blech recorded for this CD could be characterized as eco-music. The majority of the works describe nature in an idyllic, idealized state, as we wish it back only too gladly.

Now Leo Blech had to contend with quite different problems during his lifetime. As a celebrated conductor with Jewish roots, he was ostracized by the Nazis in the mid-1930s, was forced into retirement and went into exile.

For Leo Blech, music and nature were undoubtedly a refuge to a peaceful world. This is reflected in his compositions, beginning on this recording with Waldwanderung, an atmospheric contemplation of nature interpreted by the Aachen Symphony Orchestra under Christopher Ward with fine texture, lyrical wind choir and delicate string sounds.

Overall, we are dealing with extremely sensitive interpretations. Especially in the works with vocal instrumentation, Christopher Ward lets the orchestra sing and the great potential of the wonderful melodies come to full fruition.

The symphonic poem Die Nonne, on the other hand, is gripping and highly dramatic. The historical and emotional connection with Leo Blech, who was born in Aachen, repeatedly drives the entire ensemble to committed interpretations. In the end, the result is a coherent and noble homage to the composer Leo Blech

-- Pizzicato

Théodore Géricault’s larger-than-life painting The Raft of the Medusa has stimulated a great many artists ever since its creation in 1819. Hans Werner Henze and his Librettist Ernst Schnabel were inspired by Géricault and wrote a political oratorio on the painting’s tragic historical subject in 1967. Notable for its harsh and bright sounds, tender depiction of suffering, scathing irony, and gripping dramaturgy, the agitation at the failed premiere lifted the work into the canon of great classical scandals.

Until recently, Bronsart von Schellendorf's career as a composer has been almost completely overlooked. But Liszt was aware of Bronsart's prowess, referring to his orchestral work Fruhlings-Fantasie as "beautiful and invaluable" and later declaring, "I value him as a character and a musician." Even a cursory listen to the Piano Concerto reveals a composer working in ambitious dimensions and an extrovert musical language. Rich in melodic and emotional content, Bronsart's piano writing gives ample opportunity for virtuoso display while delivering Bronsart's musical arguments with power and precision. Bronsart's good friend Hans von Bulow, another pupil of Liszt, had toured the work from 1870 onwards. He took the concerto abroad, giving a concert in Manchester under the baton of Charles Halle in 1877, by which time the work had secured a temporary foothold in the repertory.

Martinů is a musical chameleon. On the one hand, there’s an unmistakable from to his output, on the other hand, he would adopt and adapt just about any style that happened to be en vogue or to his liking. These two one-act operas, presented on record for the first time in their respective versions, are a case in point. There’s that cracking little shocker that is Knife Tears (in its original French version), in which Martinů set an absurdist libretto to the sounds of Le Jazz Hot, Stravinsky, and anything in between. This is juxtaposed with the English version of his Comedy on the Bridge (the one that helped this work to brief fame), which is wildly different (if anything more in the style of Hanns Eisler), despite being separated by a mere seven years.

REVIEW:

Martinů’s short one-act operas make for a bright and entertaining double bill, and they receive bright and entertaining performances on this new recording from the Staatsoper Stuttgart under its music director Cornelius Meister. First up is Les larmes du couteau, a surreal farce from 1928 and the height of Martinů’s Paris period...A banjo strums drolly through the chamber-size score; there are the usual foxtrots and at one point the heroine Eléonore slides into a sultry and distinctly Weill-ish song to the moon. This is the first time, apparently, that the opera has been recorded with the original French text and Elena Tsallagova, as Eléonore, makes it sound effortless.

The Comedy on the Bridge is a more substantial proposition, composed as a Czech radio opera in 1935 but revised and staged in the USA in 1951 in the English version that is recorded here. Václav Klicpera’s plot – four characters, in wartime, are given permission to step on to a bridge but are forbidden from leaving it – must have had a personal resonance for the much-exiled Martinů. And yet the musical-dramatic world that he creates is recognisably kin to Smetana and Janáček: the bickering sweethearts, the querulous schoolmaster and the lyrical, dancing warmth that offsets what might otherwise have been a very black comedy indeed. The ensemble cast here sounds fresh and committed, enunciating clearly while Meister finds both the bite and the tenderness in Martinů’s lilting melodies and toytown march tunes. A little gem.

-- Gramophone

The loss of one sense, it is said, makes the other keener. What the concert pianist, organist, and composer Josef Labor lost in eyesight when smallpox left him blind at age three, must have been added to his ears. Although roughly a Brahmsian (and a friend of the composer), Labor wrote in an original style, informed by his knowledge of and love for early music. As a piano teacher, he taught Arnold Schoenberg, Alma Schindler, and Paul Wittgenstein. The connection to the Wittgenstein family explains his many works for piano left hand, including the two Clarinet Trios on this set (the clarinet was Ludwig Wittgenstein’s instrument) which are coupled with his Clarinet- and his Wind Quintets.

REVIEW:

From the evidence here, there is no question that Labor had studied Brahms well and produced startlingly effective facsimiles. Sample the finale of the Trio in G minor for clarinet, viola, and piano left hand; it could easily be taken for a forgotten Brahms work. Labor did not manage Brahms' exquisite combination of limpid tunes with dizzying structural complexity, but at times, he came very close. All but one of the pieces here receive their world premieres. A few other pieces by Labor have surfaced, but these are fortunate to receive the fluent performances with which they're favored here. This release is certainly of interest to lovers of pre-WWI Vienna and those interested in the Wittgenstein family, but also to those beyond.

-- AllMusic.com (James Manheim)

Hans Winterberg grew up in Prague where he was one of a whole cadre of composers in the new Czech musical tradition. He is one of the few Jewish composers who survived the terror of World War II. His tale of survival is complicated and involved him, as a Czech Jew, having to seek refuge in post-war Germany, whereas contemporaries and colleagues like Viktor Ullmann, Erwin Schulhoff, and Hans Krása died in the concentration camps. He saw his music as “a bridge” between the Slavic East and the West and admitted at one point that his musical starting point was Schoenberg. Audibly more present than Schoenberg, however, is a central European Impressionism, synthesized with complex rhythms.

REVIEWS:

Of these three works, the concerto is the most engaging. With the other two, you can respect the composer’s integrity and firmness in not compromising his vision. That said, they’re best appreciated by dedicated fans of 20th Century modernism as their dense, fragmented, dissonant textures aren’t easy to take straight. The performances sound accomplished. Pianist Jonathan Powell contributes not only a strong reading of a difficult work, but also enlightening program notes on the work itself.

-- American Record Guide

Of its time: the three works here date from 1936 (the First Symphony), 1948 (the first of three piano concertos) and 1966 (Rhythmophonie, a very up-to-the-mark title). Always tonally based at root, the works reflected Winterberg’s stylistic preoccupations and enthusiasms, whether Schoenbergian expressionism in the rather fine symphony, a beguiling mix of neoclassicism and romanticism in the concerto – which deserves to be a hit in this marvelous account by Jonathan Powell – or the slightly self-conscious modernism of Rhythmophonie. The last-named is longer than the symphony and concerto combined, a tour de force, rather choreographic in effect. Its slightly abrupt conclusion is typical of the composer.

-- Gramophone