SCHUMANN Gesäng der Frühe. 7 Fughetten. Kreisleriana. Geistervariationen • Dina Ugorskaja (pn) • AVI MUSIC 8553217 (77:25)


The piercing and almost hypnotic eyes of pianist Dina Ugorskaja on the back cover of the booklet betray a perception and intelligence that serves her very well in this recording of three of Schumann’s late, tough pieces, and yet she has the flash and poetic power to give us an equally penetrating reading of Kreisleriana.


This last work, based on Hoffmann’s novel Views on Life by Murr, the Cat, along with a Fragmentary Biography of Kapellmeister Johannes Kreisler, Jotted Down on Wastepaper Found by Chance (got to love those long titles), has the hero actually going mad at the end. Schumann found himself enthralled by the possibilities inherent in the rational/irrational aspects of the story, and the music certainly reflects this maddening dichotomy, replete with a variety of forms and a connecting inconsistency that somehow, in the end, makes sense after all. I have been big on Horowitz and (recently) Clara Würtz in this music, but Ugorskaja makes quite a play for my affections here, and definitely moves easily into a very competitive field.


The other works on this disc are very late and from Schumann’s last years when he was trying to forge a different sort of music and even tonality. The Songs from Early Morning is an attempt to forge something out of the aesthetics of Hölderlin’s writings, which had taken a turn towards looking back at earlier models. Schumann did the same, perhaps even an early shot at neoclassicism for the time, using sparse harmonies and very vague tonal references. It’s haunting and beautiful all at once, and definitely a look into the future, something that so intimidated Clara that she never once performed it in public.


The composer fought the idea of fugues for many years, ultimately giving in to them in 1849. But his Seven Piano Pieces in Fughetta Form from just a few days before his Rhenish suicide attempt explores the structure to a remarkable degree, looking back to Bach with a quote from the “Royal” theme in the Musical Offering and presenting us with really unique harmonic constructs and odd voice-leading. It is one of the great mysteries of music to wonder about the path he might have taken had he made it into his 50s.


We don’t really know what caused Schumann’s final breakdown and illness. Could it have been a slow awareness of the relationship that Brahms had forged with his wife, platonic or otherwise? Or maybe the idea of failure in Düsseldorf haunted him—hard to say. But the chaos, real or imaginary, in his head was killing him quickly. At one point in February of 1854 he suddenly got out of bed and wrote down a theme that he said had been dictated by angels to him. The theme of these five variations (which he wrote down in the following days) had been used before in his Violin Concerto. But after he had finished with these “ghosts” he tossed his wedding ring into the Rhine and followed soon after. Clara nixed both publication and performance of this piece, and the first edition is from 1939, though Brahms made a set of four-hand variations (op. 23) on the theme.


Ugorskaja makes a great case for these late works as being every bit as important as Schumann’s earlier piano music. She brings a heightened sensitivity to all her playing coupled with an extraordinary facile ability to convey the complexities of this music in an easily assimilated way. Great piano sound, too, and I can recommend this as one of the top choices for these late works, nicely gathered in one place, with the additional spice of a fully competitive Kreisleriana as well.


FANFARE: Steven E. Ritter

Classical Music

I greatly enjoyed Viviana Sofronitsky’s Mozart piano concertos (see review), and still dip into it on a fairly regular basis – always a positive sign that good first impressions have held up over the longer term. This Schubert recording uses an instrument by the same maker, with a fortepiano modelled on one by Conrad Graf (1819) built by Paul MacNulty. The remarkable variety of colours and textures available from this instrument is fully explored by Sofronitsky in the Wanderer Fantasie. From it she coaxes exquisitely delicate music-box soft moments, muffled tones and the kind of sharply observed dynamic drama which can become a little monotonous on a modern piano.

Melvyn Tan set the standard for fortepiano recordings in past decades, and his Virgin Veritas two disc survey of Schubert’s music, which includes the Impromptus D935 and D899, is still very much worth having. The EMI recording is a little gentler than the Avi-Music balance, with more distance between the listener and the instrument. Tan is more romantic in approach, allowing for more rubato and sustain where Sofronitsky is more direct. The first Impromptu D899 is a typical example, in which the articulation of the notes seems as important as the shaping of melodic lines and phrases to Sofronitsky. This is a challenge in its own right: who can we say is more accurate? Do we allow for more generosity of romantic spirit in music which still feels the pull of Mozart, or do we emphasise the classical in music which expresses emotion in the deepest ways available to but stretching the style and idiom of the day. Sofronitsky by no means plays without expression, but her articulation is more angular than most versions you will probably have heard until now. I could accuse her second Impromptu D899 of being too choppy and vertical sounding. Indeed there are passages where the repetitions seem to stack up rather than moving the musical narrative along. That said, the contrast of touch and the dramatic world created also have plenty to offer. The singing melody of the third Impromptu D899 provides an illusion of a sustained line on any piano. Sofronitsky carefully and effectively paces the movement so that this works as well as possible. Even so, the balance of melody is a mote too weak against the myriad accompanying notes though still sweeping along with fine and at times touching character. The last of the D 899 set is rather magical in its opening and closing bars, the lightness of touch – I take it with soft pedal – creating an ethereal atmosphere you’re unlikely to hear anywhere else, certainly not with Tan. The music comes into focus and advances as the effect is lifted, and the progression into the minor key is all the more dramatic for this extra layer of colouration.

The comments for D899 apply to a large extent also to the Impromptus D935. Sofronitsky obtains the maximum effect from the instrument. There are many aspects of these pieces which one can discover anew when hearing it on a fortepiano as opposed to a modern concert grand. You can tell the shading of light and dark in the first of the D935 set is exactly the effect Schubert would have had in mind, though the almost skipping tempo with which the second piece opens may or may not have been what he had in mind. Sofronitsky connects this with the dance rhythms which are the origins of the work. He seeks depth of expression in its brilliant contrasts of tonality and dynamic, rather than exploring artificial profundity in languor of tempo. The disarming melody of the third in this set is perhaps presented a little too heavily for my taste, though there is a marvel of difference in some of the variations which follow. The closing dance of no. 4 is lively and full of surprises.

Saving the best until last, it is the Wanderer Fantasie which impresses me most on this recording. Viviana Sofronitsky’s performance is one which fascinates at all levels. The anticipation of hearing how certain passages will sound on the MacNulty instrument is always rewarded with refreshing and unusual sonorities and tremendous inventiveness. Being a huge fan of Schubert’s piano sonatas and lieder I’ve been less keen on this work in general, but hearing the way it can sound on fortepiano and played so expertly has revived my interest more than somewhat. Schubert’s melodramatic writing makes absolute sense with this instrument, and the at times almost orchestral sounds which emanate clearly show how Schubert anticipates later generations and names such as Wagner, Berlioz and Liszt in his exploratory harmonic relationships and thematic developments. The difference between a pp and f or ff isn’t just soft or loud here, and the change in colour and texture between different moments is hard to describe in words. Take the bass line from 1:51 to 2:10 in the second movement Adagio, which has a driven, vocal quality as the dynamic increases. I find the personality which emerges from this kind of effect quite bewitching, and the entire piece comes alive in this version.

This recording probably won’t substitute your favourite concert grand performances, but if you still perceive listening to the fortepiano as a kind of hair-shirt experience then this disc should make you think again, though it does require decent equipment to bring the best of the subtleties of colour to the fore.

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

Silke Avenhaus had wanted to record Schubert’s Trout Quintet for a long time. Now five European composers were additionally asked to quasi-casually prolong Schubert’s ambivalences into the present by supplying their own variations. The commission called for works that were to be limited in length, and each composer was asked to focus his attention on a particular instrument. Although all of their pieces are based on the Trout theme, the resulting works vary utterly in terms of character and tempo. As Avenhaus puts it, this is a “godsend.” The new compositions can be grasped as individual movements of a contemporary Trout quintet, but one can also combine them in several different ways. The double bass and the cello form a strong bass section in this particular piano quintet. The line-up may have been unusual and difficult to score in terms of timbre, but Schubert skillfully made best of the situation by expanding the range of different sonorities to the maximum. The low strings fathom the underground. Conversely, the piano, often playing in octaves for long stretches in the upper range, carries out the assigned role of shining brightly on the mountain peaks. The middle range is tenderly filled out by the other strings. The resulting musical texture seems to float in midair.

Classical Music

Classical Music

So far and yet so near. The harmonies and the virtuosity: that is what the two composers Sergei Rachmaninoff and Carlos Guastavino have in common. "Even though at first glance the geographical distance between them was immense, their approach to the piano was strikingly similar," remarks Martin Klett. In both composers he loves the Romantic element- paired with attractive simplicity in one case, with ambitious piano artistry in the other. "I don't think one could even say if this music is by Guastavino or Rachmaninoff! It's somewhere in between, and thus provides a smooth, perfect transition- the ideal piece to play before the Rachmaninoff sonata." (Klett) Martin Klett has made a name for himself as a solo pianist and chamber musician. Ever since winning the International Johannes Brahms Competition and the German National Music Competition, he has become a welcome guest at prestigious music festivals.

The early 20th century is a period that fascinates me. The prevalent musical aesthetic was disrupted by a new generation of composers who maintained their roots in tradition, but felt a great desire to expand music's horizons: they formed a multitude of currents and embarked on a number of different paths, all driven by the idea of transfiguring everything they had previously known. For this album I have chosen to retrace the path originally taken by Arnold Schoenberg. Born in Vienna in 1874, Schoenberg had an atypical career. Upon his father's death, he had to leave school as the eldest sibling at the age of sixteen to take up a profession. As an autodidact he learned the essentials of composition by sight-reading great repertoire and by playing chamber music on the cello and the violin. Married to the sister of Alexander Zemlinsky, Schoenberg took some counterpoint lessons from that composer and soon started teaching harmony and counterpoint himself, from 1903 on. His teaching activity remained central throughout his life, both in Europe and after having immigrated to the US. Profoundly aware of the continual evolution of Art as a historical necessity, Schoenberg introduced an important change into composition at the beginning of the 20th century. He took it over the brink into the unknown by dissolving the classical functions of harmony, then by eliminating all familiar points of melodic and thematic reference. Schoenberg's Op. 11 is the first truly atonal work for piano ever written...

Nielsen's music set itself apart from the prevailing bathos of Late Romanticism thanks to its linear melodies and overall transparency. In his compositional style he displayed skillfull mastery of counterpoint and modern rhythm while incorporating elements of Gregorian chant and of folk music. Accused at times of detached coolness, the composer once justified his approach with the following words: ''Why do we have to go on proving ad nauseam that a beautifully sounding third is to be regarded as a gift of God, a fourth as a true experience, and a fifth as the utmost joy?'' Written in 1921/22, Nielsen's Wind Quintet, Op. 43 helps us partake in that very experience. Thinned down to the pure essentials, the scoring highlights the five instruments' individual timbres, ''At times they speak of one accord, then they irrupt into apparent disorder, then each one speaks for itself'', Nielsen explained. Certain instrumental combinations already sound almost exotic in the first movement.'' We likewise enter the circus ring with Sergey Prokofiev's Quintet, Op. 39 for the unusual combination of oboe, clarinet, violin, viola and double bass. Prokofiev wrote this work in 1924 under the title ''Trapeze'' as a ballet for choreographer Boris Romanov and his itinerant dance troupe: music depicting ''scenes from the circus life''. With its scoring reduced to the bare essentials, the work was designed to be readily performable in all sorts of circumstances and locations. Prokofiev, nevertheless, ended up composing a technically ambitious work, sporting a quirky character and ''several rhythmic difficulties'', as he readily admitted himself.''

Classical Music

Menahem Pressler has played Mozart’s piano concertos with such frequency that they can be reckoned among the works that have occupied him the most in his life. Fortunately, a wish that Pressler and the musicians of the Magdeburg Philharmonic Orchestra had been having for many years finally came true: in May and December 2016, Pressler performed as a soloist in his hometown. Those performances became this live recording release. He writes: “In Mozart there are no ‘empty’ passages. Musicians often just ‘play through’ a passage because they can play it well, and they are satisfied with that. However, if the interpretation of a passage has no content, I become adamant. I know it’s hard to phrase everything correctly. But I am still as critical as I ever was.” Most of all, one can immediately tell that we are dealing with a pianist who not only knows very note of these concertos, but who has made each of them his own.

MOZART Piano Concertos: Nos. 21 and 27 • Lars Vogt (pn); Paavo Järvi, cond; Frankfurt RSO • AVI 8553257 (57:52)


In this recording a talented, prolific pianist performs with a celebrated conductor in two Mozart masterpieces. It shouldn’t go wrong, and it doesn’t. There is grace here, sensitivity, and a welcome liveliness. At times Vogt in his solo passages seems to retreat a bit too much, in dynamics and touch. I suppose that from time to time I prefer a crisper touch and more directed succession of phrases to the occasional sighs and whispers. I still swoon before Schnabel’s Mozart recordings. But even here I am afraid of exaggerating. Vogt and Jarvi have produced beautiful, coherent, unaffected recordings of two masterpieces. If I like a little more tension, others will prefer this kind of delicate and nuanced approach.


FANFARE: Michael Ullman

Classical Music

This release is the fourth volume in Adam Fischer’s fabulous survey of Mahler’s symphonies. His previous volumes in the cycle have garnered widespread critical acclaim, including two Editor’s Choices by Gramophone. The Fifth Symphony is one of Mahler’s most loved works. Composed during the summer months of 1901 and 1902 at Mahler’s holiday cottage at Maiernigg, the 5th Symphony features a trumpet solo that opens the work with the same rhythmic motive as the famous opening of Beethoven’s 5th Symphony. The scope of the work is huge, lasting over an hour and requiring a large number of musicians. The fourth movement, Adagietto, is said to represent Mahler’s love song to his wife, Alma, and is probably the composer’s most performed piece of music.

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REVIEWS:

Fischer’s elastic sense of tempo can be stretched to extremes in the Adagietto. What remains outstanding is the textural clarity and what is among the clearest renderings on disc of the finale’s teeming fugues. A peerless trumpet rides the first-movement welters impressively, too. The strings may not be the weightiest in the business, but every phrase is beautifully detailed and projected.

– BBC Music Magazine

Adam Fischer’s kinship with this music seems to grow exponentially with each successive instalment of what is already proving an exceptional Mahler cycle. There’s a stylistic and emotional understanding which goes beyond the precisely annotated scores. Perhaps the most impressive thing about this account of the Fifth Symphony is the ‘in the moment’ feeling it engenders from first to last.

– Gramophone