Conductor Adam Fischer reflects on Mahler’s Third Symphony: “Mahler’s entire output seems like one long farewell to me: it is as if he was bidding farewell to the past and likewise to the future, since he had a great fear of death. At the end of his symphonies we often encounter utopias, as here in the Adagio of the Third, and many years later, particularly, in the Ninth. Something new sets in, but the movement is still a closure. From it we learn that whatever is new will no longer occur in this world. The Third Symphony, on the whole, is one of Mahler’s richest: the individual movements are so different from one another that they almost seem to stem from different periods of Mahler’s life. The Third contains its own world in itself- already in the first movement, longer than most Beethoven symphonies. Then Mahler plunges into the Wunderhorn world: the world of simplicity where his style seems inspired by Schubert. He quotes from his own works and creates his own mythology. Just as in a grand novel, the same figures appear in different stories. The second and third movements belong together; then, a new dimension is introduced in the fourth one with the human voice. With the contralto’s first note, Mahler truly opens up a new world. This is a new kind of composition altogether. The measures almost seem to flow into one another; Mahler is freeing himself from the rigors of rhythmic bars… This abandonment of the rigorous diktat of meter represents a challenge for every conductor.”

"What most impresses and thrills me in Lutoslawski's piano output is his immense degree of creativity while heeding every detail with painstaking attention - his wonderful way of associating traditional forms with innovative, bold sonorities and structures, while managing to preserve a great degree of independence that makes this music sound effortless and lively" - Corinna Simon Witold Lutoslawski was one of the greatest composers of the 20th century. His well-known Variations on a Theme by Paganini for two pianos are in the repertoire of almost every respectable piano duo. Unfortunately, apart from the short piece An Overheard Tune, Lutoslawski left no other work for two pianists to posterity. During the second World War, Lutoslawski played many of his own compositions in cafes, in order to make a living. Whereas Lutoslawski's earliest compositions - the Sonata and the Two Etudes - are brimming with technical challenges for the pianist, the next pieces he wrote are cycles of brief miniatures in which he explores each note and each rest to attain a maximum degree of expression.

Classical Music

Julian Steckel – remember that name – Bravo!

This is the concerto debut disc by the young – not yet thirty – German cellist Julian Steckel. Let me say right away I like everything about this disc – a lot! Intelligently programmed, very well engineered and stunningly played by both the orchestra and all importantly the soloist. Clearly there are many fine cellists competing for the attention of the classical music world. Most have bravura techniques that were the reserve of the super-elite barely a generation ago but all too often this can be at the expense of musicality or sensitivity. What impresses and indeed thrills me about Steckel’s playing is the range of colour and emotion he finds in this trio of rather wonderful scores.
 
It was an excellent idea to bring together on a single disc three cello concertos by three Jewish composers of the last century. Two, Korngold and Goldschmidt, were displaced from their native lands by the rise of the Nazis whilst Bloch, although Swiss-born and thereby protected from the horrors of the final solution at first hand, also left his native land to settle in America. None of the works presented here are ‘rare’ in recording terms and Bloch’s Schelomo is that composer’s most popular concert work. Admirers of the other two composers are almost certain to have these works in their collections too so why buy this disc? The answer is because it is simply that good. The disc opens with the Korngold Cello Concerto in C Op.37. The genesis of the work is well-known; for the Bette Davis film Deception the key love triangle consisted of a musician, a composer and Davis. At a crucial point in the film the cellist/musician plays in concert the composer’s concerto. For this sequence Korngold wrote a six minute mini-concerto which was expanded into the ‘full-scale’ work we have here. Even then it lasts a bare twelve minutes. Korngold had a unique clause in his Warner Brothers contract allowing him to retain intellectual ownership of the music he wrote for their films hence themes from film scores appear in concert works and vice versa. This is a work where the boundary between celluloid and stage blurs to nothing. By having to cram the entire concept of a concerto into such a short time-frame there is a danger that it will appear as all gesture and little content – Addinsell’s Warsaw Concerto is surely the ultimate example of that appealing failing. Korngold’s genius – and I am sure he was a genius – is that it works and is satisfying both as music and formally. The first thirty seconds of the performance here tells you that you are in for something rather special. The orchestral introduction is alert; lean and motile but with the sharp tang of nostalgia that is uniquely Korngold. Steckel’s entry is confident, ardent, articulate and superbly projected. At the same time the engineering and production allows conductor Daniel Raiskin to bring out so many telling details in Korngold’s brilliant scoring. The more you hear of Korngold the more you realise what a unique sound-world he created characterised by halos of brilliant harps, keyboards and tuned percussion enveloping lyrical lines of heart-breaking beauty. Listen to Steckel’s handling of the second subject; [track 1 1:20] – this is head-turningly, heart-stoppingly, lump-in-throat-makingly beautiful. As I said, there have been several other versions of this work; I still have a great affection for the first version I knew on the RCA Classic Films scores series played by Francisco Gabarro (RCA GD80185 recently reissued as Sony RCA Red Seal 88697 81266 2), but Steckel is better. Likewise Peter Dixon on Chandos (CHAN9508 or more recently CHAN10433X) and Julius Berger on CPO (999 077 or as part of set of 4 CPO 999150-2) are perfectly good just not this good. For Korngold completists the Naxos version of the film score played by Alexander Zagorinsky is of interest because it is the compact film-score version (Naxos 8.570110-11). There is one last version worth hearing but hard to find because it was on a BBC Music Magazine cover disc played by Frederick Zlotkin conducted by Leonard Slatkin (BBC MM234, 2003). [Not to forget Zuill Bailey on ASV] They are the sons of the cellist Eleanor Aller who played the solo part on the soundtrack and Zlotkin plays her cello.
 
Turning to Schelomo competition is if anything even fiercer. Liner-note writer Norbert Ely describes it as “a deeply pessimistic work” which I suppose it is although I must admit I had never thought of it as such. Another valid point Ely makes is how Bloch forged a musical language which he describes as coming from an “imaginary folklore”. Indeed Schelomo is soaked in music that seems to echo with archaic ritualistic chants whilst actually being original themes. As with the Korngold it is a work where the cello-cantor-protagonist has to play with an extraordinarily wide range of tonal colour and musical flexibility. Here, as throughout the entire programme, Steckel displays his chamber-music loving roots with playing of rapt concentration and pared-back beauty. I have heard performances which emphasise the virtuosic elements more but if you buy into Ely’s concept of “ecstatic pessimism” then this performance is a revelation. Again elsewhere I have occasionally found the rhapsodic form of the work can give it a loose and discursive feel. With Steckel the sense of directed movement and controlled development is unmistakable. As ever, he is helped in this enormously by the excellent Staatsorchester Rheinische Philharmonie with Raiskin’s unerring sense of pace. Time and again I found myself hearing little flecks of orchestral colour and nuance that I have not noticed before. Perhaps this does not displace my other favourite versions but that has more to do with them presenting valid alternatives. The passage that resonates here for me is the broken lament on the cello after the main central climax of the work [track 2 14:10] – playing of profound beauty and poignancy; “why hast thou forsaken me” in music. Part of Steckel’s particular skill is matching his tone, both bow speed and pressure, to his vibrato – at times febrile and fast and at others wider and slower. It might seem like an obvious way to vary one’s palette but it is rarely used with such carefully considered sophistication as here.
 
After a brief reassessment in the mid-nineties it seems that the music of Berthold Goldschmidt is sinking back into obscurity. The relative lack of interest is marked by the fact that the recoding of his cello concerto here – just its third by my reckoning – makes it his most recorded work. Steckel is again in powerful company with David Geringas on CPO (an all-Goldschmidt orchestral works disc: 999 277-2 ) and no less than Yo-Yo Ma on Decca (a Goldschmidt concertos disc: 0289 455 5862 2 DM). But he has nothing to fear from either. This work was written in 1953/4 as an evolution of a lost piano and cello work written for Emanuel Feuermann in 1932. The reason it fits so well in the programme here is the way it can be heard as springing from much of the same cultural and aesthetic heritage as the other two works yet ultimately pursuing a more abstract and ‘pure music’ path than the emotional Schelomo or literally cinematic Korngold. The orchestration is sterner, more cerebral than the other two; by no means lacking in colour or beauty but less luxuriant. Likewise the soloist leads a rigorous musical debate rather than riding the passionate wave. All of the earlier virtues of the disc are again evident – beautifully secure yet flexible playing from all departments of the orchestra and the transparent recording allowing the contrapuntal detail of the score to register with natural ease.
 
I have not mentioned before that I like very much the balance that has been achieved between soloist and orchestra. Given that the three works were recorded at different sessions spread over four months the consistency of the sound is exceptional. After the hot-house emotions of Bloch and Korngold, Goldschmidt can seem to be relatively staid although the second movement Caprice mélancolique is powerful and terse. The inspiration for the work is neo-baroque with an expressionist element that must have seemed terribly contrary to the mood of the times in which it was written. With the benefit of more than fifty years hindsight it can be seen that Goldschmidt forged a very individual musical personality from pre-existing materials and forms. Therein lies another unifying link with these three works and composers. None of them was revolutionary but neither were they anything like as reactionary as they were considered during their compositional lifetimes. The closing Tarantella of Goldschmidt’s concerto has a rather take-it-or-leave-it feel which I rather like – a sense of following one’s own path without compromise.
 
The format of the packaging is the increasingly popular cardboard gatefold with the liner booklet tucked into a slot of the cover. The liner is in German and English only. Norbert Ely’s notes are brief but good.
 
This looks like it is a self-promoted disc by Steckel. If so, knowing the time effort and cost of mounting such a project, I hope it has the success and gains the attention playing of this calibre richly deserves. Increasingly players are having to self-promote and I am always sorry if I cannot be as enthusiastic about the results as that kind of dedication and effort merits. But here we have a disc that would grace the release schedule of any major international company and playing worthy of comparison with the very finest. The tiniest caveat is the short playing time at 54:04 but as a tailor would say, “never mind the cost, feel the quality”. Here on a single disc we have the finest version of the Korngold and performances of major works by Bloch and Goldschmidt more than equal to any other. Julian Steckel – remember that name – Bravo!
 
-- Nick Barnard, MusicWeb International

Kara Karayev is an outstanding composer of the twentieth century whose legacy is acknowledged and acclaimed far beyond the borders of Azerbaijan, his native country. With melodies that sing while telling a story, his music's moving, unforgettable expression is colored by modern, extremely expressive harmonies. All of this makes Karayev's art exceptionally complex: he succeeds in creating a universe of sound that captures the audience. Kara Karayev studied violin and piano at Baku Conservatory, and went on to study composition at Moscow Conservatory in the class of Dmitri Shostakovich, who always held Karayev in the highest esteem. Most of the works presented here by pianist Elnara Ismailova have been recorded on this album for the first time in celebration of the 100th birthday of this largely unknown Azerbaidjanian composer.

Classical Music

Classical Music

R. FUCHS Clarinet Quintet. BRAHMS Clarinet Quintet • Sebastian Manz (cl); Danish Str Qrt • AVI 8553300 (71:56)


This CD combines the immortal clarinet quintet of Johannes Brahms with the unmistakably Brahmsian—but of course lesser—quintet of Robert Fuchs. Fuchs’s Quintet is very Viennese, charming, and expertly crafted, and deserves a hearing now and again. I wrote in some detail about this work in reviewing Stephan Siegenthaler’s recording in Fanfare 35:5.


Sebastian Manz, still in his 20s, is principal clarinetist of the SWR Orchestra Stuttgart and a former student of Sabine Meyer. He has a lovely, dark tone and terrific control; he may seem too young to play Brahms’s quintessentially autumnal masterpiece, but other than overdoing things a bit in the second movement’s climactic mm. 85–86 he is exemplary here. The Danish String Quartet, whose members appear to be about the same age as Manz, provides solid support; the many passages in octaves for violin and clarinet are spot-on. There is some lovely give-and-take in the third-movement Andantino and in the theme-and-variations finale.


Fuchs’s Quintet receives a sympathetic reading, more polished than that by Siegenthaler. The recording is attractive and well balanced, with just the right amount of ambience. There are many superb versions of the Brahms Quintet available—by Karl Leister, Harold Wright, and David Shifrin, or more recently by Sharon Kam and Jon Manasse—but not so the Fuchs. Accordingly, highly recommended.


FANFARE: Richard A. Kaplan

Friedrich Cerha's output has solid roots in an extended musical tradition, while spanning a wide arc from the b eginnings of new music all the way to the present. This is not only due to the composer's respectable age, but primarily to the great number of activities he has pursued in the course of his long life, along with the great variety of influences he has incorporated into his work.

Haydn's piano sonatas have thrilled me since childhood. This music may seem easy to grasp at first glance: so much seems clear and straightforward. However, once you take a closer look and spend more time playing and listening to Haydn's music, it develops an endless, multifaceted life of its own. It becomes more concrete and at teh same time it develops an endless, multifaceted life of its own. It becomes more concrete and at teh same time more mysterious. Unexpected turns of phrase, sudden occurences, humorous juxtapositions and startling asymmetries are just as much a part of this music as its extended melodic arcs that make the piano sing. Haydn's music forms an intimate bond between song and speech. In each movement of the ca. 60 piano sonatas he wrote, we meet a personality, an unmistakeable character, evoked in detail. Haydn was long viewed as teh mere forerunner of vienna Classicism - Mozart and Beethoven's Papa, so to speak. His sonatas were mainly regarded as witty, useful pedagogical material. Several generations seem to have been unaware of his profoundly nuanced approach. Perhaps, however, Haydn's keyboard oeuvre might require even better interpreters than the works written by his towering colleagues. One cannot clothe this music in an adequate form without applying a great deal of fantasy in one's choice of timbres, along with a keen sense for musical thetoric and careful regard for phrasing. Most of all, the Haydn performer should be able to modify the entire timbre effect and redistribute the balance among parts from one moment to the next. We must not forget that he was born way back in 1732: Haydn thus still had one foot in the Baroque age, as one can tell from the latent polyphony and frequent figures of musical rhetoric. His variegated types of articulation cover a wide spectrum: dozens of nuances fill out the range between Haydn's profound, songlike legato and his humorously accentuated staccato. Here is not where we will find Beethoven's force and dramatic vigor, neither Mozart's ethereal beauty. Haydn wrote a music of profound humanity, with a basic outlook similar to what the German Romantics called humor": a reflection of human life with all its beauties, unfathomable depths, hopes, losses, crises and joys, all shouldered with a large dose of passion and irony.

Recording information: Heimbach, Germany, Wasserkraftwerk (06/09/2008); Heimbach, Germany, Wasserkraftwerk (06/13/2008).

Classical Music

In 1876, Dvorak jotted down the Trio in G Minor, op. 26 in a mere 16 days. By that time, some of his masterpieces, including the Moravian Duets and the Stabat Mater, were starting to gain wider recognition- but the encounter with Brahms, which would stabilize him as an artist and clarify his musical tendencies, only took place the following year. Thus, many passages in this trio seem to be groping for direction: as Dvorak specialist John Clapham once remarked, they are still musically “insecure.” Still, certain traits in this trio already seem to reveal Dvorak’s profound affinity with Brahms on an instinctive level. Gradually emerging from a series of brief motifs, the first movement’s main theme is subjected to thematic treatment throughout. This movement is also the longest, lsating a total of twelve minutes. Its generally gloomy, somber mood does not yet reflect the true personal style of he who would soon write the Slavonic Dances. Notwithstanding, certain cello cantilenas in the slow movement and towards the end of the violent scherzo offer a foretaste of the great melodic gifts that Dvorak would soon reveal to the world.The Trio is coupled here with Joseph Suk’s Piano Quartet in A Minor, op. 1. A student of Dvorak, Suk’s piece shows a distinctly personal style almost completely separate from the style of his teacher.

HAYDN Piano Trio in Bb, Hob XV:20. ROSSINI Duo for Cello and Double Bass. SCHUBERT String Quartet No. 14, D 810, “Death and the Maiden” • Martin Helmchen (pn); Veronika Eberle, Antje Weithaas, Christian Tetzlaff (vn); Rachel Roberts (va); Marie-Elisabeth Hecker, Tanja Tetzlaff (vc); Alois Posch (db) • AVI-MUSIC 8553259 (66:11) Live: Heimbach 6/6-10/2011


The three concert performances on this disc derive from an annual chamber music festival entitled “Tensions [ Spannungen ]: Music in the Heimbach Hydropower Station,” which does in fact take place in a functioning hydroelectric installation, built in 1904 in Art Nouveau style and located in Germany’s Eifel region. Lars Vogt, the festival’s artistic director, writes in his introductory notes that the title is “not only an allusion to the electric current normally produced in this…installation but also to the underlying musical tensions and contrasts in the festival’s music program.” Electricity, in the figurative sense, is certainly a feature of the excellent performances on this disc.


The Haydn Trio offered here, No. 20 according to Hoboken but No. 34 in the Landon listing, is a relatively late work, one of a group of three trios written in 1794, during the composer’s second visit to London. Its three movements total just over 13 minutes in this performance by violinist Veronika Eberle, cellist Marie-Elisabeth Hecker, and pianist Martin Helmchen. Their rendition is excellent, predictably larger-scaled and more assertive than the fine period-instrument recordings by Trio 1790 (CPO) and by Patrick Cohen, Erich Höbarth, and Christophe Coin (Harmonia Mundi), achieving an ideal combination of energy, exuberance, precision, and elegance. The crystalline clarity of Helmchen’s pianism and the perfect intonation and burnished tone of the string players further contribute to the success of this performance.


Unlike his string sonatas, Rossini’s Duo for Cello and Double Bass is not an early work but rather dates from 1824, when the composer was already approaching the end of his operatic career. It was written for a well-known double bass virtuoso of the time, Domenico Dragonetti, who, according to the notes, lived from 1763 to 1841 but performed in the presence of Berlioz in 1845, making him one of several musicians who have been credited in print with performing after death. (Other sources indicate that his actual death date was 1846.) This instrumental combination might seem unpromising and be expected to yield a dull, boomy sound, but in Rossini’s hands it actually works quite well. Cellist Tanja Tetzlaff assumes the lead role that would go to a violin in a more conventional ensemble, but the playing of bassist Alois Posch is supple and euphonious. Together the instruments produce a warm, throbbing sonority, and this being Rossini, there is plenty of engaging melody in the three movements of the piece.


To conclude the program, violinists Antje Weithaas and Christian Tetzlaff, violist Rachel Roberts, and cellist Tanja Tetzlaff deliver a performance of Schubert’s “Death and the Maiden” Quartet that is of astonishing power and intensity, with urgent tempos, forceful attacks, strong dynamic contrasts, and explosive climaxes. In taking the lengthy exposition repeat, unlike most competitors, these players prolong the first movement to over 15 minutes, which may not sit well with those who feel Schubert goes on for too long, but that is not a viewpoint I share, and in any case the performance is so gripping that no one is likely to complain of monotony. Although their treatment of tempo is not rigid, the Heimbach musicians, unlike many ensembles, relax only slightly in the more lyrical portions of the movement. Their urgency and vehemence continue into the Andante con moto second movement, where most ensembles opt for a more relaxed, lyrical approach. An unusually forceful and angry Scherzo is followed by a headlong and vehement finale. Technically, the playing is of a high standard in terms of intonation, articulation, and tone quality, although it is not note perfect, as is understandable given the live concert setting and the extremely intense, highly charged nature of the interpretation. Also notable is the unusually open and detailed texture of this performance, in which the contribution of each instrument can be heard distinctly.


There are many fine recordings of “Death and the Maiden,” but I do not know of another that matches this one for intensity and dramatic power. In contrast, that of the Alban Berg Quartet (EMI) flows smoothly and mellifluously, with a blended sonority. The Budapest Quartet (in its 1953 Columbia recording, available from ArkivMusic) is also comparatively genial and lyrical. The Emerson Quartet (DG) and the Juilliard Quartet (in its 1959 RCA recording, reissued by Testament) get a bit closer to the Heimbach approach but still do not match its relentless drive, towering climaxes, and searing passion. The Heimbach performance is greeted with thunderous applause and foot-stamping at the end, as it should be.


In addition to the quality of its performances, this disc benefits from excellent, realistic sound that positions the musicians precisely in a spacious acoustic and is vivid, well balanced, and free from harshness. The concert audience is very quiet, except for its enthusiastic applause after the performances, although faint background noise may be heard during silences and in quiet portions of the Schubert. This is an outstanding release, and I strongly recommend it to all lovers of chamber music.


FANFARE: Daniel Morrison

Classical Music