It's entirely possible that Cathy Basrak's name is unfamiliar; after all, there are very few violists from any age who have reached any plausible level of stardom (and I'm not even going to begin repeating any one of the vast number of viola jokes that make the rounds). In this instance, the ignominy of Basrak's fine instrument is completely baseless. She possesses a luminous, rounded tone and she is nimble and responsive in even the most technically trying passages. We're told that, having won numerous competitions and having performed as a soloist with Chicago, Detroit, and Philadelphia, among other orchestras, the 24-year-old Basrak currently holds the assistant principal chair in the BSO. I'm positive that a bright future awaits her, judging solely by the merits of this recording.

Aside from her considerable technical prowess, Basrak has thoughtfully assembled an intriguing and decidedly eclectic program. There is a trio of works from the 1940s to consider: Frederick Jacobi's muscular Fantasy for Viola and Piano; Alan Shulman's Theme and Variations, something of a standard in the scanty viola repertoire; and Quincy Porter's Speed Etude, an exhilarating ride for the soloist, dappled by radiant piano accompaniment. Two works from much later dates round out the disc. George Rochberg's 1979 sonata features a strikingly dark and moody Adagio lamentoso, and Lowell Liebermann's vividly colored sonata from 1984 is a recording premiere. The sound is rich and full, with excellent balance between Basrak and her two pianists, William Koehler (who appears on the Jacobi and Liebermann) and Robert Koenig (featured on every other work). [12/26/2001]
--Anastasia Tsioulcas, ClassicsToday.com

FANTAISIE • Mathieu Dufour (fl); Kuang-Hao Huang (pn) • ÇEDILLE 90000-121 (57:00)


FAURÉ Fantaisie. GAUBERT Fantaisie. HÜE Fantaisie. DOPPLER Hungarian Pastoral Fantasy. TAFFANEL Fantasy on Themes from Weber’s “Der Freischütz.” BORNE Fantaisie Brilliante on Themes from Bizet’s Carmen


Here are six pieces for flute and piano, all but one by French composers, and all titled “Fantaisie.” Yet except for Fauré, I’d have thought that not one of these composers would come up in conversation other than by flutists and flute fanciers. So I suppose I was a bit surprised to find a number of similarly programmed recitals including these composers and pieces reviewed in the Fanfare Archive.


A release covered in Fanfare 23:1 by John Lambert included the Fauré and Gaubert fantasies as well as a piece by Taffanel, though not his Fantaisie. Another CD, reviewed by Paul Ingram in 28:2, did include Taffanel’s Fantaisie as well as Borne’s. Still another disc reviewed by Lambert in 24:3 included both Borne’s and Hüe’s. And the one not-French composer in the mix here, Albert Franz Doppler, had his Fantaisie turn up on a release reviewed by Lambert in 21:5, which also contained the Borne. So it seems that none of these composers and their fantasies are as obscure as I imagined.


Anyone who knows the flute world is sure to recognize the name Mathieu Dufour. He was and is once again principal flute of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, a post to which he was appointed at the age of 25 by Daniel Barenboim. The “was” happened during the 2010 season, when Dufour left his post in Chicago to join the Los Angeles Philharmonic on a trial basis. The marriage went sour, and he left abruptly, midseason, to return to Chicago where he’d been allowed to retain his post as a kind of dual citizen. The L.A. divorce was nasty, with some regrettable remarks made by Dufour about the Los Angeles orchestra quoted in the Chicago Sun-Times , remarks for which the flutist later apologized, insisting he’d been misquoted.


Kuang-Hao Huang, Dufour’s piano partner on the disc, is a well-known artist in the Chicago area. He pursues an active performing and teaching career, has concertized throughout the U.S. as well as in England, France, China, and South Korea, and collaborates regularly with chamber-music ensembles.


The works on the CD fall into two groups, plus one that falls into neither. The Fauré, Gaubert, and Hüe fantasies are virtuosic contest pieces written for the annual competitive concours examinations held by the Paris Conservatory. The Borne and Taffanel are examples of the popular 19th-century genre of opera paraphrases, which were written in great numbers—many by Liszt—to tunes from well-known operas of the day. The square peg in the round hole is Franz Doppler, both for being of Hungarian birth and for his Hungarian Pastoral Fantasy, which falls into neither of the above categories. The piece is presumed to be based on Hungarian folk melodies, which may have been manufactured by Doppler rather than borrowed from authentic sources. Doppler’s name rang a bell. It was something I’d read before. He was the composer who assisted Liszt in orchestrating some of his works when Liszt was first learning to orchestrate.


The two opera paraphrases are quite dazzling and not insignificant concert works in their own right. Taffanel mines Der Freischütz for gold and finds far more nuggets of the precious metal in Weber’s opera than I ever have. Borne’s Carmen Fantasy is, if anything, even more brilliant, as the “brilliante” in its title promises. Either Borne was the more technically adept flute master and imaginative composer, or Bizet’s music lends itself better to this sort of treatment than does Weber’s. Perhaps both propositions are true.


Exemplary playing in service to unfamiliar and entertaining music combines with excellent recording to make this a most recommendable release.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Chicago based American composer and associate professor of composition at Roosevelt University, Stacy Garrop's first album of orchestral music is a collection of world-premiere recordings. Mythology Symphony, a five-movement work inspired by famous female figures from Greek mythology with a compelling performance by conductor Alonda de la Parra leading the Chicago College of Performing Arts (CCPA) Symphony Orchestra of Roosevelt University. Thunderwalker and Shadow, described as "a moving interplay of counterpoint, shifting textures, and profound emotion" is conducted by Peabody Conservatory-based Markand Thakar. The prolific Garrop has elicited positive critical praise with Gramophone magazine spotlighting her as a composer whose work displays "vision and breadth." In 2015, her oratorio Terra Nostra will receive it's world premiere in San Francisco and her compositions ranging from choral to chamber, lieder to now orchestral have been performed by illustrious ensembles such as Avalon String Quartet, Capital Quartet and the esteemed choir Chanticleer.

The Pacifica String Quartet plays with such lovely tone that even the thornier bits of the atonal Seeger and the acerbic Hindemith works come across as elegant, even mellow. The truth is, both are full of beautiful and arresting music, and as these performances show, all it takes is a group willing to play them that way. This is particularly noticeable in the evocative Andante of Seeger's quartet--a brief work lasting barely 12 minutes in all, but one full of unusual textures and imaginative ideas. Similarly, the Hindemith never has sounded so warmly expressive. Its opening Fugato isn't just a neo-classical counterpoint exercise but a lyrical movement sculpted from long, flowing lines, while rude gestures in the second and fourth movements have plenty of guts but never for a moment turn gratuitously coarse.

This last observation holds particular relevance in considering Janácek's Second Quartet, a work of high drama and intense passion that some quartets make positively ugly. Indeed, you might at first find the Pacifica Quartet too smooth, but that impression turns out to be mistaken as the work proceeds. Consider, for example, the hysterical outburst midway through the third movement, with the violin screaming above a pulsating accompaniment. Not only does the passage erupt with all of the necessary violence and abruptness, but you can actually hear the individual components of the rhythmic underpinning below the wailing violin. Usually, the passage comes off as a blur. The Pacifica players also adopt an entirely appropriate and stylish use of portamento to give Janácek's melodic lines an extra touch of expressivity. Only the finale strikes me as a touch leisurely, though no less detailed or committed.

Like so many recent Cedille releases, the repertoire is so intelligently chosen (all three works are roughly contemporaneous, dating from 1922-31), so interestingly varied, and the engineering so impressively lifelike, that this disc adds up to considerably more than the sum of its highly enjoyable parts. This is a challenging release, but one that no admirer of top-notch quartet playing will want to miss. It provides an excellent opportunity to get to know music that many collectors might not otherwise rank high on their list of priorities, but that is well worth hearing nonetheless. In short, this is everything that an important new recording should be. [10/10/2006]

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

REVIEW:

This is not only one of the best sounding violin and orchestra recordings ever made, but the entire concept is so smart, so well executed, and so thoughtfully planned that even if it were not so musically stupendous it still would be worthy of your attention. As it is, this is one of those rare productions in which absolutely everything goes right. Consider, for example, the problems attendant upon releasing yet another recording of the Brahms Concerto. You have a small independent label with excellent musical credentials but limited resources, a soloist of great musical gifts (Rachel Barton's previous discs have all been top-notch) but who isn't a "big name", and a work that virtually every other violinist with access to a microphone has recorded, sometimes more than once. Given the fact that on musical evidence Barton's Brahms certainly deserves to be heard, what's a label to do?

First, secure the services of a world-class orchestra under a fine conductor (Carlos Kalmar, music director of the Oregon Symphony and Chicago's Grant Park Festival, fills that bill nicely). Amazing, isn't it, that when major labels are screaming about how they can't afford to record major American orchestras Cedille has found the resources to do just that? Second, instead of simply offering the Brahms, you find an interesting coupling. And let's not kid ourselves: Joseph Joachim's Hungarian Concerto isn't just an "interesting coupling"; it is the Holy Grail of Romantic violin concertos, a work so lengthy (47-plus minutes, about the same as the Elgar concerto), so difficult, yet so deliberately symphonic and, in a sense, anti-virtuoso in conception that it has never once received even a merely adequate recording. Take that coupling, play it to a fare-thee-well (demonstrating once and for all that the work is indeed a brilliant and neglected masterpiece), and then toss in an equally fine Brahms Concerto, all offered at a two-for-one price. If that isn't a recipe for success, then nothing is.

Indeed, Joachim's youthful Hungarian Concerto is so beautiful and full of life, its Gypsy-tinged melodies so entrancing, that only its inordinate difficulty accounts for its rarity. In concert it would be a show-stopper, and Rachel Barton has its full measure. The heavily symphonic first movement requires the soloist to engage in genuine chamber-music dialog with the orchestra, especially the principal winds. Joachim's orchestration must stand with the finest ever achieved in a concerto; there are no dead spots and no balance problems as long as the soloist has the taste and musicianship to know when to cede the spotlight and when to take command.

Take the remarkable cadenza as a typical example: there's no barnstorming sawing and scraping, but instead a densely flowing river of lyricism joined now and then by solo flute and oboe. It's one of the most purely gorgeous passages ever written for the violin, and Barton plays it for all it's worth (and finishes up with some devastating descending chromatic octaves that actually sound like musical notes and not a rusty hinge).

The slow movement features another very attractive principal theme, and when it returns at the movement's conclusion in the cellos, decorated by garlands of ornamentation from the soloist, the result sounds like some lost work of Dvorák at his most melodically characterful. Barton's electrifying attack on the finale, a dazzling "Rondo from hell" with a whiplash perpetual motion principal subject, sets the seal on this remarkable performance. Her double-stops (and there are tons of them: check out from 2:30 into the movement) are as sweetly tuned and richly voiced as her legato is smooth and her sense of rhythm acute. Even after this long work I wouldn't be surprised if you went right back and played the finale over again. It's that much fun.

The word that most succinctly sums up Barton's Brahms is "aristocratic". Among recent recordings, she plays Milstein to Hilary Hahn's Heifetz. The timings are identical to Perlman and Giulini's celebrated performance with this same orchestra, but for my money Barton achieves an even finer balance between poise and virtuosity (and shows far greater dynamic sensitivity, especially in the finale). With opening-movement tempos relaxed but never slack, Barton's warm, round sound allows her to really dig into the music where necessary (witness that famous fanfare-like motive, or Joachim's first-movement cadenza)--but she never emits a raw or unlovely note. The second movement, with a gorgeous oboe solo at the start, is just heavenly, and the finale reveals plenty of high-spirited energy but also numerous delightfully phrased touches in its various episodes. At the very end Barton and conductor Kalmar produce a wind-down coda simply perfect in its timing and wit. She even includes her own eminently musical and enjoyable cadenza on a separate track. Simply jump ahead when the orchestra stops (the balance of the coda is also included, so you don't have to skip backward to get the ending).

As noted above, the sonics are sensational. The opening of the Brahms, with dark-hued strings answered by the winds like a gleam of sun breaking through the clouds, will take your breath away. Although Barton deserves much of the credit for emitting such attractive sounds, it certainly helps that Cedille's engineers capture her shining tone with nary a trace of shrillness, even in the highest positions. Barton herself writes an excellent set of notes (surely indebted to Tovey in discussing the Joachim, but none the worse for that), and to put the icing on the cake she plays a 1742 Guarneri "del Gesu" violin, the "ex-Soldat", selected by Brahms himself for his friend and colleague, violin virtuoso Marie Soldat. Recordings don't get any better than this. Rachel Barton, conductor Carlos Kalmar, and Cedille deserve your enthusiastic support for putting this project together and executing it with such perfectionist zeal and consummate musicianship. There's also a lesson here that the whole industry should take to heart: Where there's a will, there's a way, and it's OK to make fewer recordings, especially if you make great ones. Astounding!

--David Hurwitz

This album was awarded the 2008 Grammy Award for "Best Chamber Music Performance."
All tracks have been digitally mastered using 24-bit technology.

Acclaimed, multiple Grammy-nominated harpsichordist Jory Vinikour partners with renowned conductor Scott Speck and the award-winning Chicago Philharmonic for an exciting program of modern harpsichord concertos. Featuring the premiere recording of American composer Ned Rorem’s neoclassical 1946 Concertino da Camera, the album also includes English composer Walter Leigh’s charming, brief Concertino for Harpsichord and Strings, Czech composer Viktor Kalabis’s substantial, tour de force Harpsichord Concerto, and contemporary composer Michael Nyman’s wild Concerto for Amplified Harpsichord and Strings — a real sonic blockbuster. Recognized as one of the outstanding harpsichordists of his generation, Jory Vinikour has cultivated a highly-diversified career that takes him to the world’s most important festivals, concert halls, and opera houses as recitalist and concerto soloist, partner to many of today’s finest instrumental and vocal artists, coach, and conductor.

REVIEW:

For imaginative choice of repertoire married to sterling performances, this has got to be one of the outstanding discs of 2019. Yes, there are great 20th-century harpsichord concertos besides those of Poulenc, Martin, Falla, and Martinu. Jory Vinikour has chosen four. Let’s get right to the music, which spans a 60+ year period, from the Walter Leigh Concertino of 1934 to Michael Nyman’s virtuosic Concerto for Amplified Harpsichord and Strings of 1995. The Leigh is charming, busy, neoclassically English, and nine minutes of pure joy. Nyman’s concerto is considerably more substantial and full of surprises. The various sections play continuously, organized around a central tango followed by a thrilling cadenza for the soloist that Vinikour plays marvelously.

In between these two works, we have the world-premiere recording of Ned Rorem’s early Concertino da Camera for harpsichord and seven instruments, already recognizably his own voice in its French elegance and distinctively beautiful harmonies. The most substantial and serious work, however, is Viktor Kalabis’ Concerto Op. 42. Written for his wife, the legendary Czech harpsichordist Zuzana R?ži?ková, the piece is a deeply intimate, often troubled work that haunts the memory. The harmonic palette is acerbic but always expressive, and the writing for strings in combination with the solo keyboard is just exquisite–perfectly judged and finding an amazing range of color despite the limited forces employed. Again, Vinikour plays with great sensitivity and feeling, especially in the central Andante.

The accompaniments provided by the Chicago Philharmonic under Scott Speck are ideally calibrated, while the engineering balances the harpsichord(s) perfectly against the larger ensembles. Vinikour also deserves a shout-out for selecting instruments that invariably suit the music, and sound attractive in their own right. You can play the entire 75-minute disc without ever tiring of the solo timbres. As I already said, this is surely one of the discs of the year.

– ClassicsToday.com (David Hurwitz)

Violinist Rachel Barton Pine and harpsichordist Jory Vinikour, critically acclaimed artists of interntional renown- and also close friends- record together for the first time on this album of J.S. Bach’s complete sonatas for violin and harpsichord. The artists approach these works as Bach intended: as trio sonatas with equally important roles for the violin and the harpsichord’s treble and bass lines. In addition to the six Sonatas, the album offers the remarkable and ravishingly poetic Cantabile, BWV 1019a, a free-standing work that Bach originally conceived as a movement of the Sonata, BWV 1019. Cedille’s audiophile engineering and the intimate acoustics of Evanston, Illinois’s Nichols Hall allow the complex trio textures to blossom with detail. In all, the album sets a new standard for a body of work that Bach’s son, CPE, considered among his father’s finest compositions. Rachel Barton Pine is a Billboard chart-topping artist. Her 2016 album ‘Testament,’ comprising JS Bach’s Sonatas and Partitas for solo violin entered the Billboard Classical Chart in the No. 1 position, as did her 2013 Cedille album ‘Violin Lullabies.’ Making his Cedille label debut, Vinikour received Grammy Award nominations in the category of Best Solo Instrumental Recording for his 2013 album of modern American music for harpsichord and his 2012 release of Rameau’s complete harpsichord works.

SHOSTAKOVICH String Quartets Nos. 13, 14, 15. SCHNITTKE String Quartet No. 3 • Pacifica Qrt • CEDILLE 145 (2 CDs: 104:28)

With this fourth volume, the Pacifica Quartet brings its survey of Shostakovich’s 15 string quartets to a close. As with the each of the earlier two-disc sets, a bonus is offered in the form of a string quartet by one of Shostakovich’s contemporaries, this time the String Quartet No. 3 by Alfred Schnittke. Previous discmates were Myaskovsky, Prokofiev, and Weinberg.

Between two hospitalizations in 1970, Shostakovich managed to complete his 13th Quartet in August of that year. Alone among the composer’s 15 quartets, this Bb-Minor work is in a single movement and exhibits a palindromic form—ABCBA. Like the 12th Quartet before it, this one, too, is based on a tone row encompassing all 12 semitones of the chromatic scale. Shostakovich’s endgame, however, is to confirm tonality rather than to deny it.

Much of the composer’s music seems to dwell in dark, brooding, baleful places—that’s nothing new—but this 13th Quartet arguably surpasses in mood and atmosphere even the spectral chill and ghoulish humor of his earlier works. It unmasks the face of death, and it’s a visage so hideous to behold that gazing upon it will freeze your eyeballs in their sockets. I can only describe the Pacifica Quartet’s reading of the score by saying it achieves a sub-zero degree of cold that can penetrate and shatter your bones. Never have I heard such a graphic representation in music of the daemon Thanatos, not by the Fitzwilliam, Emerson, St. Petersburg, Brodsky, or Alexander String Quartets. This is scary stuff.

Shostakovich’s next quartet, No. 14 in F# Minor, reverts back to a key more convenient for string players, three sharps, allowing for the use of some open strings, and being a lot easier to finger than the five flats of the previous quartet. The composer began work on the piece in 1972, but took time off for a trip to Ireland and England, where he visited his friend, Benjamin Britten, in Aldeburgh. That delayed completion of the Quartet until the following spring, after Shostakovich had returned to Moscow.

The score is dedicated to Sergei Shirinsky, the original cellist of the Beethoven Quartet, and contains a cryptogram in the third movement on “Seryozha,” a familiar or affectionate form of address for Sergei. However, the pitches—D#-E-D-E-G-A—make no sense unless transliterated into their Cyrillic equivalents. The “E,” for example, represents the Cyrillic letter “ë,” which I’m given to understand is pronounced “yo,” thereby denoting the second syllable in “Seryozha.”

Compared to the 13th Quartet, No. 14 is positively playful. Still, being by Shostakovich, the music does have its bleak and menacing moments, but also one passage in particular in the third movement, beginning at 4:49 in this performance that’s of utterly aching beauty. Unfortunately, I don’t have access to the score, but if my ears don’t deceive me, it sounds like the viola playing in double stops for a number of bars, accompanied by gentle pizzicatos in the violins. If I’m right, and it is the viola, then Masumi Per Rostad’s playing at this point is simply breathtaking; which is not to take anything away from Simin Ganatra, Sibbi Bernhardsson, and Brandon Vamos, whose playing throughout this entire series has been nothing but phenomenal.

Shostakovich’s last quartet, No. 15, is clearly a valedictory work in much the same way that Beethoven’s final quartets are. Completed in May 1974, a year and three months before his death, Shostakovich chose for this score what Stephen Harris calls “the mysterious but traditionally morbid key of Eb Minor.” “Morbid” may be one word for it, but with a key signature of six flats most string players would call it by a word or words not to be spoken in polite company. Had Shostakovich lived to write a 16th quartet, one can only wonder if he’d have upped the ante to seven flats with a score in Ab Minor or Cb Major.

In six movements, the 15th Quartet is the composer’s longest, playing for some 36 minutes in the Pacifica’s performance. Moreover, each of the six movements is in the same Eb-Minor key and in one degree or another of Adagio . As quoted by Elizabeth Wilson in Shostakovich: A Life Remembered , the composer himself gave this performance instruction: “Play the first movement so that flies drop dead in mid-air and the audience leaves the hall out of sheer boredom.”

The music obviously speaks of facing death, but it’s not macabre and malignant like the 13th Quartet; rather, it’s mostly melancholy, sorrowful, and resigned, with the occasional defiant outburst. If I singled out violist Rostad for his playing in the 14th Quartet, I have to note first violinist Simin Ganatra’s superb execution of the third-movement cadenza in the 15th Quartet.

Shostakovich’s string quartets have been extremely fortunate from the very beginning to have received quite a few outstanding recordings. A number of them are cited above, but there are earlier ones by the Beethoven and Borodin Quartets that have historical significance, as well as more recent ones by the Sorrel and Mandelring Quartets (the last two of which I’ve not heard). But of those I have heard—and that would include all the others named in this review—I believe I’m prepared to say that this cycle by the Pacifica Quartet is the top contender. Whether you already have one or more Shostakovich quartet cycles in your collection, or you have none, the Pacifica’s is a must-have for anyone of the conviction that these are the most profound musical utterances in the realm of the string quartet since Beethoven.

Disc two closes with a performance of Alfred Schnittke’s String Quartet No. 3, composed in 1983. Seth Brodsky, assistant professor of music and the humanities at the University of Chicago (no connection to the Brodsky Quartet), notes Schnittke’s “anti-classical” or “polystylistic” approach, which “depends on shattering classical norms of balance, purity, and wholeness for a multiplicity of styles.” “Schnittke’s Third Quartet,” Brodsky continues, “shatters all three within its first minute. We hear only broken pieces from other times and other works—first from Orlando de Lassus’s Stabat Mater (later 1500s), then from Beethoven‘s Grosse Fuge (1825), and finally from Shostakovich‘s famous ‘musical signature,’ ‘D-S-C-H,’ first used in his Fifth String Quartet of 1952. Schnittke takes these three musical modules, from disparate traditions traversing half a millennium, and puts them directly after one another, only to have the whole thread snap and fall to the ground.”

As works by Schnittke go—at least among those I can claim to have heard—this Third Quartet is fairly accessible, an impression borne out by its relative popularity. Not counting the present version by the Pacifica Quartet, the work has received six recordings, one of which, with the Borodin Quartet on a Virgin Classics CD, to my surprise, I found on the shelf and dusted off for comparison. Once again, for playing of arresting graphic detail, the Pacifica wins hands-down.

This is a Shostakovich cycle for the ages.

FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Haydn scholar H.C. Robbins Landon described Haydn’s D major cello concerto as one of the composer’s “weakest compositions”, an “uncomfortable” work, displaying “misjudgments of dramatic timing”, its concluding rondo “staid and melodically short-winded”. Whatever the theoretical, and to some degree subjective basis for that assessment, for most listeners, hearing this concerto will provoke nothing short of pure delight and appreciation for Haydn’s clever and catchy—and often virtuosic—thematic writing, buoyant rhythms, and thoroughly entertaining interplay between soloist and orchestra. There’s a reason why the work is represented on more than 100 recordings in the current CD catalog. And Wendy Warner’s addition to that number is a stellar confirmation of its popularity to audiences and particular appeal to performers.

That same popularity applies to the C major concerto, written in the 1760s, some 20 years earlier than the D major, yet only re-discovered in 1961 and given its modern premiere in Prague a year later. This work features even more brilliant bursts of virtuosic writing for the soloist—and Warner really digs in: you can just picture the flashing bow strokes, the swift, fluid motion of fingers, and a resultant musical enunciation that seems so easily and effortlessly produced, so absolutely natural, and so articulate and artful that you wouldn’t care if the tune were “Twinkle, twinkle little star”, you’d be just as impressed and satisfied. In fact, in view of the grand heap of Haydn cello concerto recordings, Warner’s playing places this one at the very top.

Warner’s impressive command of style and technique also serve to convince us that the “other” concerto on the program—a little-known work by Czech composer, and friend of Mozart, Joseph Myslivecek—is a more than worthy companion to the Haydn pieces; in fact, if you’re not paying very close attention, you won’t notice the transition from the Haydn C major concerto to Myslivecek’s work in the same key—the style and quality of Myslivecek’s composition makes an easy, almost seamless flow from one piece to the next. Combining this work with the two Haydn concertos was a smart bit of programming that, along with the unquestioned virtuoso performances of Wendy Warner, gives this disc an extraordinary value not only for collectors but for those who have yet to acquire a recording of these essential Haydn works. Praise for the orchestra and its conductor Drostan Hall must not go without mention—they are outstanding collaborators whose appropriately styled, energetic playing and remarkably tight ensemble complement every note and expressive utterance from Warner’s Guarneri cello. The sound, from College Church in Wheaton, Illinois, is consistent with Cedille’s highest standard. Don’t miss this.

-- David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

Here is yet another intelligent project from Cedille, and a real bonanza for chamber music lovers. Turina’s chamber works are gorgeous. True, the early Piano Quintet in G minor is a touch heavy and faux-Franck, but after that it’s basically smooth sailing. This two disc set contains, first of all, the complete music for piano trio, expertly played with passion and precision by the Lincoln Trio. Most collections of this music contain only the two numbered trios plus the dawn-to-dusk tone poem for piano trio known as Circulo. Here we also get the large early trio in F major, a lovely work that brings the total playing time of the disc to over 73 minutes.

The second disc offers the late Piano Quartet in A minor, the above-mentioned piano quintet, and the sunny, lyrical sextet in two movements subtitled Escena Adaluza. Turina’s mature works exude Spanish color in the cast of their melodies, but his music is also formally elegant and beautifully shaped. Several of these pieces, such as the Quintet and the Trio No. 1, contain spontaneous but intellectually sophisticated fugues, and there isn’t a routine note anywhere. The Lincoln Trio’s colleagues, especially violist Ayane Kozasa, who has a major part in the Sextet, blend seamlessly with the basic ensemble, and they are flawlessly recorded.

I never cease to be amazed at how, with a little thought and intelligence, it’s still possible to put together worthwhile programs of serious classical music that are wholly winning and simply delightful. This release would grace any collection; it’s a treat.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

The electrifying Pacifica Trio is back with the highly anticipated third installment of their acclaimed Soviet Experience series. This release focuses on Shostakovich’s string quartets of the 196s, Nos. 9-12. Ranging from a balanced neoclassical form to an unpredictable riot of tonal and atonal themes, these quartet s rank among the finest of Shostakovich’s later works. The adventurous String Quartet No. 6 of Mieczyslaw Weinberg, Shostakovich’s friend and colleague, provides another vantage point to view this period in Soviet history. (“The playing is nothing short of phenomenal, bringing new dimensions of interpretative depth and a subtle fusion of intensity and clarity. . . . When the series is complete, it looks set to be the one to own.” The Telegraph, London)

From start to finish, I was absolutely mesmerized by this CD. There isn’t a really weak link among the 14 pieces, and Barton Pine’s prowess as a violinist has, I think, never been more boldly or excitingly displayed.



CAPRICHO LATINO • Rachel Barton Pine (vn); 1 Héctor Elizondo (narr) • ÇEDILLE 125 (79:41)


ALBÉNIZ Asturias (Leyenda). CORDERO Rapsodia Panameña. TRADITIONAL Balada Española. ESPÉJO Prélude Ibérique. QUIROGA Emigrantes Celtas. Terra!! Á Nosa!! YSAŸE Sonata No. 6. GONZÁLEZ Epitalamio Tanguero. J. WHITE Etude No. 6. TARREGA Recuerdos de la Alhambra. RODRIGO Capriccio. SEREBRIER Aires de Tango. PIAZZOLLA Tango Etude No. 3 con Libertango. 1 RIDOUT Ferdinand the Bull


I was at a bit of a disadvantage in reviewing this CD as the promo copy I received had track listings by the composers’ last names but no identifiers of the works or composers’ first names and dates. Of course, I knew who Albéniz, Ysaÿe, Rodrigo, Serebrier, and Piazzolla were, but the only two pieces I recognized by ear were the Albéniz Asturias and Rodrigo’s Capriccio (though I’d forgotten the title of the latter). A few days later I received a full track listing but no liner notes, yet I noticed that the Serebrier piece was dedicated to Rachel Barton Pine, and the González to both Rachel and her husband, Greg.


Despite the confusion, I enjoyed the CD immensely. Judging from her other CDs I’ve listened to after this (Handel sonatas, Instrument of the Devil, and Violin Concertos by Black Composers ), Barton Pine’s style tends more toward the lyric than the dramatic, but her playing here is very dramatic indeed, with sharp attacks, cleanly articulated pizzicato, and impeccable turns. One thing that surprised me was the rich, dark quality of her tone, almost viola-like in places. I would describe it (not negatively) as a “junior Oistrakh.” Every note in her range has a full, rich sound at every dynamic level and, aside from those moments when she is purposely vehement, her bowing is never rough.


Despite the extreme challenges of doing an entire CD unaccompanied, Barton Pine never lets up in creating a rhythmic underpinning for herself. I assume that Roque Cordero’s Rapsodia Panameña is based on different folk music and rhythms than the Panamanian music that reached our shores in the early 20th century, as those were essentially in habanera rhythm and this piece is not. Of course, since Cordero was a late 20th-century composer, the language has elements of bitonality throughout, and there are very quick changes from short but intense lyrical passages to rhythmic outbursts and back, but the piece holds together very well indeed. Jesus Florido’s arrangement of a traditional Spanish ballad consists of almost continual contrapuntal 16ths in which the violinist must emphasize the melody without sacrificing cleanliness of attack. César Espéjo’s Prélude Ibérique, written for Szeryng, has a very similar style though the tonal base is less spiky, and there is a long passage in 16ths that is exciting but more in the nature of a continuous melody than rhythmic accompaniment.


Manuel Quiroga, also known as Quiroga Losada, is the only composer represented by more than one work: a passionate lament in C Minor ( Emigrantes Celtas ), punctuated by short, staccato stabs; and a fiery, rhythmic piece in Terra!! Á Nosa!! which, at times, resembles a Celtic tune in melody and construction. The Ysaÿe sonata—dedicated to Quiroga Losada—has a strong Andalusian flavor. Typically of Ysaÿe, the music is more passionate and evocative of mood than an academic theme-and-devlopment. Later passages of this sonata, using a rhythmic underpinning to the melody, show his knowledge of the unaccompanied partitas of Bach. Compared with this dense piece, the etude by José White sounds almost jolly and simplistic, even repetitive, but nonetheless pleasing. The Serebrier Aires de Tango is really something, feeding into Barton Pine’s reputation for having one of the best staccato techniques on earth, but if anything her transcription of Piazzolla’s Tango Etude is even wilder, and in fact practically steals the show. Those who remember the Disney version of Ferdinand, the Bull with the Delicate Ego will not necessarily like all of Alan Rideout’s more modern version, but it’s a very amusing piece. Héctor Elizondo has a somewhat hoarse speaking voice, but is an interesting and whimsical narrator.


Bottom line: From start to finish, I was absolutely mesmerized by this CD. There isn’t a really weak link among the 14 pieces, and Barton Pine’s prowess as a violinist has, I think, never been more boldly or excitingly displayed.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

Not surprisingly this new release from Rachel Barton Pine, this time with her friends and Cedille label-mates John Mark Rozendaal and David Schrader--appearing together as Trio Settecento--offers a well-thought-out program. As demonstrated on her previous recordings, Pine is interested not just in filling a CD with good music but in providing listeners with a broader, more meaningful experience. In this case the trio's aim is to show the ways different Italian or Italian-influenced composers realized the possibilities of the newly emerging voice of the solo violin beginning in the late 17th century. And "voice" is the key word here, as throughout these eight very distinctive pieces we hear all manner of expressive effects as well as the pure, artful exploitation of the violin's capacity for lyrical, singing melody.

Both of these features are amply--and memorably--displayed in the first movement of Locatelli's Sonata da camera Op. 6 No. 2 in F major, where the elegant, flowing course of the melody is frequently enlivened with little quick flourishes and runs, where bow and fingers literally skim across the strings. These connective devices are not mere ornaments but importantly allow the performer to give character to the instrument, which in the hands of a first-rate soloist--as we have here--can almost sound like it's speaking. Another highlight is Tartini's Sonata Pastorale in A major, whose opening movement is rich with pleasing melodies and well-integrated instrumental textures, its second movement a spirited Allegro--but its final movement a tour de force that recalls shepherds' bagpipes interspersed with sudden outbursts of raucous dancing.

There's so much more here to enjoy, including the more stylistically formalized Corelli and Handel sonatas--and the dazzling final Ciaccona of Veracini's Sonata in D minor Op. 2 No. 12 that closes the disc. But as well crafted as these sonatas are, it's Pine and her outstanding colleagues that make the impression, and it's obvious that these players--all respected soloists--have been together in this repertoire for a long time. In fact, they've been performing as an ensemble for more than 10 years, successfully applying their exceptionally high level of modern technique and artistry to a sincere concern for period-performance authenticity. I especially enjoyed the sound of Pine's original, unaltered 1770 Gagliano violin, which in her hands sings with an impressively assertive tone--bold and gritty, with a lovely, silvery upper register. This is a disc that demands, encourages, and truly rewards many hearings, made even more enjoyable by the vibrant, natural, ideally balanced sound. Highly recommended!

--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

This new release is the first recording to feature the Casavant Frères organ built during the early 1990s for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra at Orchestra Hall. The beautifully produced recording highlights four substantial and worthwhile American works written between 1943 and 1990, in brilliant performances by organist David Schrader with the Grant Park Orchestra (which offers summer concerts in Chicago), conducted by the Uruguayan-born, Viennese-trained Carlos Kalmar. Hence, this disc will be of great interest to aficionados of organ music, as well as to those with a special interest in American music or in these four Pulitzer Prize-winning composers.

Samuel Barber’s Toccata festiva was composed in 1960 to commemorate the installation of a new organ donated by Mary Curtis Bok Zimbalist to Philadelphia’s Academy of Music. (At a cost of $150,000, the Aeolian-Skinner was the largest movable pipe organ in the world at the time.) Her gift also included the commissioning of a celebratory piece of music for the occasion. Barber’s Toccata is one of his very few works that have the ring of a “potboiler” (although, in fact, Barber declined the fee offered by his devoted, long-time patron). That is, its fabrication of hearty good cheer seems a tad forced, as it works through material strongly reminiscent of previous successes, most notably, Knoxville (the justly beloved vocal work whose deeply reflective nostalgia is almost diametrically opposed to the extroverted character of this showpiece). Nevertheless, Barber’s workmanship was never less than meticulous, and the resulting composition fulfills its requirements with impeccable panache. As fine as this performance and recording may be, however, those listeners whose interest is limited to the Barber will probably be happier with the original recording that featured E. Power Biggs with the Philadelphia Orchestra under Ormandy. I believe that this rendition is still available on an all-Barber CD reissue.

Speaking of Biggs, Walter Piston’s Prelude and Allegro was commissioned in 1943 by the esteemed organist for one of his weekly radio broadcasts. The Prelude offers a warmly expressive, long-lined polyphony that calls Barber’s own style to mind; the Allegro cuts less deeply than the opening, and displays the briskly vigorous, syncopated counterpoint generally associated with its composer.

The music of Leo Sowerby (1895–1968), a prolific composer based for many years in Chicago, has never gained a strong foothold with the listening public, although there have been recent efforts to prompt a reconsideration of his output. From my perspective, Sowerby’s music, like that of many mid-Western composers, suffers from a neutrality of affect, untroubled by either spiritual or emotional conflict. This 18-minute Concertpiece, dating from 1951, is representative of such a characterization: a robust, full-throated fantasia-like piece that falls loosely into three sections. Simple modal thematic material is developed into rather elaborate, chromatic textures. Post-Romantic in its musical language, but abstract in structure, the work is unavoidably comparable to Howard Hanson’s Concerto for Organ, Harp, and Strings, completed just ten years earlier. The works cover very similar terrain, expressively and stylistically, although Hanson’s offers a stronger personal profile.

The most recent composition is Snow Walker, written in 1990 by Michael Colgrass. Colgrass, who turned seventy this year, lived for some time among the Inuit in northern Canada. “Snow Walker” is apparently an Inuit image that represents death and resurrection. In five movements, this 22-minute work was inspired by Inuit mythology and by the composer’s impressions of the Arctic. Like much music of the 1990s, Snow Walker is oriented around gesture and sonority, rather than by the dynamics of harmonic melody, meter, or tonality. For me, a little of this sort of thing goes a long way; each time I listened to the piece, my interest had waned by the fourth section. (Actually, I suspect that Colgrass’s interest waned by the fourth section.) However, the first three sections are quite compelling in their preternatural way. The first movement, “Polar Landscape,” is enormously evocative; the second attempts to simulate a type of Inuit singing that resembles an unearthly sort of laughter; the third, entitled “The Whispering Voices of the Spirits Who Ride with the Lights in the Sky,” is almost terrifying in its eeriness.

In summary, this will be a welcome acquisition for those whose interests embrace this repertoire.

-- Walter Simmons, Fanfare

All tracks have been digitally mastered using 24-bit technology.

"•The Grammy Award-winning Pacifica Quartet and the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra’s superstar clarinetist Anthony McGill join forces for the clarinet quintets of Mozart and Brahms – widely considered the greatest chamber works for clarinet and strings. • Both are mature masterworks inspired by phenomenal clarinetists of their day. • This is McGill’s first commercially released album as featured soloist and his Cedille Records debut. • This is the Pacifica Quartet’s ninth Cedille album."

EIGHTH BLACKBIRD: Thirteen Ways

The New Budapest Orpheum Society, ensemble-in-residence in the Division of Humanities at the University of Chicago, has been tracing the origins, development, and influence of European Jewish cabaret music through extensive historical research and compelling performances in concert and on a series of widely acclaimed albums on Cedille Records.

The ensemble’s third and newest project for Cedille focuses on Jewish stage and film music from the early to mid-20th century, ranging from a turn of the 20th century Viennese broadside to songs from the 1948, Billy Wilder-directed film A Foreign Affair.

This posthumous anthology consisting of selections from 50 years of work by composer Coleridge-Taylor Perkinson (1932?2004) includes six world premieres?that is to say, it took 50 years for this man?s lifetime output to be recognized. Perhaps that is not so shocking. After all, how easy was it for a black man in the 1950s to obtain a bachelor?s and master?s degree from Manhattan School of Music, and compose his first major work at the age of 22 within the confines of a segregated society? But Perkinson, the namesake of black British composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (1875?1912), didn?t consider himself generically a black composer. Whether or not he allowed himself to be typecast as an ethnic artist, Perkinson?s interpretation of white, WASP, and Western musical convention is spiked with vintage blues and jazz. His music is, therefore, in an uncanny and paradoxical way, the reverse of the cultural plundering associated with Gershwin?s and Dvo?ák?s musical appropriations. Consequently, if Perkinson?s music isn?t especially innovative, we shouldn?t be surprised that a victim of discrimination and ghettoization would not choose to further isolate himself by throwing 12-tone rows into the mix. After all, experimentation is the spawn of prosperity, not the privilege of the hardship.


Perkinson?s Sinfonietta No. 1 for strings, composed in 1955, might have been considered, if composed by a young Caucasian, the work of a wunderkind. The precocious piece is an homage to Bach, and throughout his life Perkinson returned to fugal writing as a religious rite of appreciation for the German master. Two years later, Perkinson began to infiltrate into his technique the echoes of his ancestor slaves. Quartet No. 1 , based on ?Calvary? (Negro Spiritual) weaves together the dualism of his segregated world into one lucid harmonious dream.


The next selection on the disc was composed 20 years later. One wonders what happened in the intervening years, though we know that Perkinson had the opportunity to work with Leonard Bernstein, Max Roach, Alvin Ailey, Jerome Robbins, Marvin Gaye, and Harry Belafonte. He also co-founded and conducted the Symphony of the New World. Blue/s Forms for solo violin (1972) is a deep reverie of black experience as seen through the filter of Paganiniesque writing. Sanford Allen plays it with tender feeling. Equally luscious is Lamentations, a black/folk song suite for solo cello, played by Tahirah Whittington.


Just before his death, Perkinson composed the last selection on the disc, Movement for String Trio. It is a profoundly sweet, sad, Barberesque self-requiem for a man who should have been heard, and one hopes will be heard now?though he won?t be here to enjoy the long overdue recognition.


FANFARE: David Wolman

Maurice Greene (1696-1755), organist of St. Paul’s Cathedral, London; Composer and Organist to the Chapel Royal; Master of the King’s Musick. Maurice Greene, described contemporarily (and he was a near-exact contemporary of Handel) as the leading English-born musician of his generation. And yet, today’s audiences have little experience listening to his music, especially his instrumental works. The truth is, his music is not better than Handel, it’s not as good as Handel, but it sounds like Handel at his most ingratiatingly English. If it’s not as melodically entrancing, it definitely captures the appeal of bright “happy” harmony and ear-catching melody, along with the character of both the gentle, verdant countryside and the stately court ceremony. In short, if you like the orchestral Handel, or the concerto grosso Handel, you’ll definitely enjoy the overtures presented here, in vibrant, clearly detailed sound, stylishly performed by Garry Clarke’s Chicago-based period-instrument ensemble Baroque Band.

This group can play notes with the best baroque bands, but throughout the six Overtures in Seven Parts (strings, plus harpsichord, flute, and oboe) and the two additional overtures (from the opera Phoebe and from Greene’s Ode to St. Cecilia’s Day) these musicians and their director show particular and welcome concern for expressive nuance and articulation that gives the performances a dynamic presence that’s far more satisfying to listeners than renditions that may be “proper” but fall far short of demanding a repeat.

The program’s producers opted to supplement/complement the recital with three selections from Greene’s Lessons for the Harpsichord, performed with his usual panache and absolute stylistic authority by David Schrader. My only suggestion would have been to intersperse the solo harpsichord works among the overtures rather than group them in one block–but having these pieces on the same disc as the orchestral works makes for nice variety as well as giving listeners exposure to another area of Greene’s rarely-heard music. I looked everywhere for information about Schrader’s harpsichord–an instrument whose disposition makes an impressive sound, but also has a certain character that organists and early-music keyboardists know can add a dimension to the music and the performance that goes beyond the mere designation “harpsichord” or “organ”. Whatever its provenance, Schrader’s instrument has a very pleasing, intimate quality, timbrally on the bright side and evenly voiced across registers.

And whatever may have prompted the producers and players on this recording to make a program of Maurice Greene’s instrumental music–the vast majority of the existing CD catalog contains choral works–we baroque music lovers can do no less than celebrate and enjoy the chance to hear–and hear again–these undeservedly obscure solo and orchestral pieces, most of them entirely new to the catalog. Strongly recommended.

– David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

Includes work(s) by Frederic Rzewski. Ensemble: Eighth Blackbird. Soloists: Matt Albert, Molly Alicia Barth, Matthew Duvall, Lisa Kaplan, Michael J. Maccaferri, Nicholas Photinos.

Cedille Records intends its African Heritage Symphonic Series as a follow-up to CBS Records' Black Composers Series from the 1970s, and I'm happy to say Volume 1 makes for a strong start. Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (1875-1912), chiefly remembered for his cantata based on Longfellow's Hiawatha, actually was British-born, and his music is understandably more European sounding than that of his African American colleagues, though in some cases you can hear instances of traditionally African harmonic modulations. Thus, the Danse Nègre from the African Suite (1898) sounds sort of like Vaughan-Williams' The Wasps spiced up by Dvorak's Slavonic Dances. Dvorak is a composer who comes to mind again in the Petite Suite de Concert (1910), where Coleridge-Taylor exhibits the same qualities of tunefulness, rhythmic fluency, and sparkling orchestration as the Czech master.


William Grant Still (1895-1978) greatly admired Coleridge-Taylor, but he also was heavily influenced by the great jazz musicians of his time, in particular W.C. Handy, known as the "Father of the Blues". It's the sound of the blues that opens Still's Symphony No. 1, and to hear it in full symphonic dress immediately calls to mind George Gershwin (both composers knew each other's music). Various forms of jazz and blues permeate the symphony, yet Still constructs his work according to classic symphonic principles, and the result is a highly original, thought-provoking, and ultimately enjoyable creation.


From the African diaspora, we turn to the motherland for the music of Fela Sowande (1906-87). Sowande's Africa Suite (1930) utilizes traditional melodies of his native Nigeria, allowing us to hear the actual modes and rhythms of Africa presented in European orchestral timbres--a hybrid that works thanks to conductor Paul Freeman's rhythmic exactitude and to enthusiastic playing by the Chicago Sinfonietta. Freeman and his band give vibrant performances of the Coleridge-Taylor works as well, and show a far less self-conscious demeanor in the Still Symphony than Neeme Jarvi and the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, playing with much more relaxed authenticity and "cool". Cedille's recording is a model of three-dimensional realism, making this disc both a sonic and musical treasure.
--Victor Carr Jr., ClassicsToday.com

Jennifer Koh is a really good violinist, and this enterprising program showcases her skills comprehensively. Schubert's remarkable late Fantasie in C for Violin and Piano D. 934 still isn't as well known as his other late works, perhaps because he wrote so little music for this combination, but it's a major masterpiece and Koh plays it like one. Her tone is wistful at the opening, lively in the allegros, and in general more gutsy (all to the good) than the recent Shiokawa/Schiff rendition on ECM. Her partner, Reiko Uchida, shares her conception of the piece and isn't afraid to take center stage when called for, particularly in the work's latter stages.


I actually prefer this piano and violin arrangement of Schumann's Fantasie in C Op. 131 to his rather soggy original for violin and orchestra, scored in his most monochrome late style. Koh and Uchida find a lightness and lyricism in the piece that allows us to enjoy the beautiful tunes free of their orchestral shackles, and you would never know that this was not Schumann's intention all along. I'm less thrilled with the Schoenberg Phantasy, which is played about as beautifully as it can be, but it's ugly music and out of place in this context despite the eloquent case made for it in the very detailed and articulate booklet notes by Andrea Lamoreaux. This is one of those cases where the lineup perhaps appears better in theory than in practice, though Ornette Coleman's soulful "Trinity" Fantasy for solo violin does sound right at home here for some reason and makes a fine conclusion to an enterprising program.


Sonically this disc is simply gorgeous. The balances between piano and violin turn out to be just about perfect, and the lower octaves of the keyboard have a depth and presence, especially in piano passages, that is simply thrilling. I would recommend this disc on technical grounds alone, even if the artistic side weren't as successful as it clearly is. So despite my small reservation regarding the inclusion of the Schoenberg (and others may differ with me there), this is a pretty terrific recording on all counts, and the Schubert and Schumann performances make it essential listening for fans of those composers.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

BLACKWOOD: String Quartet Nos. 1-3