Ayako Ito: “Nowadays, in concert halls, we generally see a single type of piano that normally has 88 keys and is normally black. Things were quite different in the Vienna of the 19th century: the piano had fewer keys, was decorated with wooden inlay and had no steel subframe. All this made them sound quite different. Conrad Graf was one of the finest builders of pianofortes in Vienna in the period from 1820-40. And Franz Schubert was living in the same city.We can revive a rich, warm, singing, powerful and even orchestral sound on Graf's pianofortes. His pianos feature the Viennese action or “Prellzungenmechanik”, with their hammers built up from many layers of leather. These hammers allow the performer to impart subtle nuances and dynamic contrasts. Of course, the pianos are straight-strung. The player can alter the tonal color using four pedals, with one of the pedals specific to the pianoforte being the moderator. When the moderator pedal is depressed, a strip of cashmere slips between the hammers and the strings. Christopher Clarke (1947) built the instrument used for this recording in 2000, as a facsimile of Conrad Graf's pianoforte no. 995. Clarke's pianoforte always inspires me. I find it a miraculous instrument. The utter precision of the mechanism lets us explore the finest gradations and introduce the most subtle nuances – singing, speaking or whispering. It is a mechanism that demands a high technical mastery from the player.”

Review

Ayako Ito approaches the masterpiece D960 with romantic fervour, trusting the less powerful, more refined, tone of the fortepiano will provide authentic period sound compensation. Her opening theme isn’t as soft as pp, but smoother and more swinging than the Molto moderato marking suggests. The deep bass disturbance at the end of its first full statement (tr. 1, 0:24) is more threatening than the pp marking. The clarity of Ito’s running quavers in the ‘tenor’ part enhances the tense atmosphere, yet the third part of the first theme (0:58), more pleading, moves through quiet insistence. The second theme (2:06), is in the tenor part against the ‘soprano’ descant, with Ito’s sensitive balance the latter’s creaminess like a loving companion. The dancing three-quaver groups in triplets which eventually result skip buoyantly. The phrase of resolution terminating these (4:04) deserves more breadth, but the extraordinary exposition ‘first time’ codetta (4:55), like hobgoblins arriving, Ito makes boldly gawky.

In the development (10:19) Ito prefers cool examination rather than shock, its ff climax of the dancing triplets underplayed (11:27). But she builds the tension and dynamic well to the fruition of the third theme (12:18), the most tender and memorable. Ito makes the second theme recap (16:08) more delicate and sensitive. Her coda (19:22) is tranquil yet flowing.

The opening of the slow movement juxtaposes a left-hand four note rising figure and melancholic right-hand melody. Ito makes the first and final notes of the left-hand figure very clear as bell peals three octaves apart. In this C sharp minor funeral Ito is sorrowful yet smoothly dignified, her equipoise between the hands arguably overmuch easing the pain of bereavement. The central section in A major (tr. 2, 2:59) remembers the loved one and clarifies a relationship, its theme beginning in rich ‘baritone’ register, the soprano repeat (3:26) adding varied semiquaver runs. From Ito it feels like both parties confirm shared sadness. At the return to the opening (5:36) the left-hand has an additional four-note motif, three semiquavers and a quaver, for me like funeral carriage wheels biting into the road. Ito makes it a clear, inescapable presence. The decrescendo after the melody’s climax finds the left-hand unheeding the pathos of the melody briefly in C major (6:30); yet after the next melodic climax comes a blessing, the coda (7:55) easing calmly into C sharp major.

Ito’s finale’s rondo theme begins a bit stiff in marking out the rhythm; her second strain (tr. 4, 0:21) is catchier and first episode (1:24) blends calm tone with confident movement, the relationship between melody and accompaniment grippingly maintained, until a sudden silence and ff shock (2:36) of catastrophe, especially when the melodic outburst goes into descant register.

Best of D946, Three piano pieces, is for me the first. It’s in E flat minor with urgent first strain to its right-hand cyclical theme. The second (tr. 5, 0:15) adds more rhythm, then a melody picked out from the first notes of the three-quaver groupings (0:19). The return of the first strain is in E flat major (0:50), the touch more rhythm a vehicle for Ito screaming a scrunched appoggiatura at the fz climax. The central section second theme (2:54) is in B major, festooned with turns and phrase-ending arpeggios, Ito revealing it as leisurely and affectionate. Its second strain (4:13) adds glissando-like up-and-down [32nd notes], the return of the first more luxurious in chording and close more rhetorical. To this vibrant, varied piece Ito brings considerable gusto.

--MusicWeb International (Michael Greenhalgh)

Fifteen years after his Nouvelles Suites de Pièces de Clavecin, Rameau once again turns his attention to an instrumental work, for what will be the last time, inspired by the new potential for chamber music glimpsed in the use of the concertante keyboard. The 1741 collection is the only new work he produced between 1740 and 1744, before returning to the musical theatre – to which he will dedicate the rest of his life. The most attractive aspect of the Pièces de Clavecin en Concerts, and the one which provides the most authentic reading of the work, is the multiplicity of possible combinations in performance between the instruments indicated in the score (harpsichord, violin/flute, viola da gamba/2nd violin ), following the detailed instructions that Rameau provides for each of them in the various Avis in the preface of the printed edition. The author’s intention was undoubtedly for the harpsichord and its virtuosic protagonism to be the backbone of the Pièces; however, the possibilities of alternative timbric arrangements are specifically contemplated by Rameau for this work. What was a widespread ad libitum performance practice, today becomes an extremely inviting challenge for modern performers in terms of tonal reinvention of the pieces. Thus, with each new reading the music may be reinvented, making in turn every new listening experience a rediscovery and a revelation.

The album Aufgelebt is all about revival, rebirth and recreation, the promise of new beginnings. Beethoven worked on his Piano Concerto No. 4 and the Op. 61a (piano version of a violin concerto) in the same period of his life. Both concertos were neglected and would have been forgotten had it not been for the attention of Felix Mendelssohn, who revived the Fourth Piano Concerto in 1836 and conducted the violin concerto, in 1844. Since then, these two concertos have been considered to be masterpieces of classical music literature. The Violin Concerto had yet another chance of rebirth long before young Joachim’s success. After attending the premier of the piece, Muzio Clementi asked Beethoven to transcribe the work for piano and orchestra. His wish was promptly fulfilled by the composer, who at the same time enriched the Concerto with authentic cadenzas, of which the first - in the First Movement - is very special as the piano is accompanied by timpani!

Daniel Rowland writes: "I remember so well the moment I first heard Marcelo play, in the beautiful and historic Holywell Music Room in Oxford, in the autumn of 2009. Marcelo's version of a magical Piazzolla touched me deeply and I was utterly captivated and fascinated by it: by the depth, the honesty, the raw emotions, the almost unbearable tenderness, the sense of longing, of loss, the fiery passion... That day I decided to dive deeply into the world of tango, and to learn this language from Marcelo. We started playing together, and very soon became a quintet, with superb artists, brilliant musicians, virtuosos, friends, and like minded, inquisitive, musical spirits. Marcelo grew up in Buenos Aires and met Piazzolla as a child, when Astor's legendary quintet would rehearse at his parents home. Piazzolla would tell Marcelo: 'Marcelito, come and stand behind me as we rehearse and follow my printed score, and listen to what I actually play' - often these two things where very different! This is surely the most direct, and incredible insight into the master's interpretation of his music that one could possible dream of! We in the quintet very strongly feel this unique connection between Piazzolla and Marcelo, it is a great inspiration. I'm sure that Piazzolla like the young Marcelito so much because he saw not only a serious, of course very talented your artists with a huge tango-heart, but also someone who would push the boundaries of tango, keep innovating and daring to experiment, while respecting the tradition."

Movements in time and sounds in space: While visual art and music share inspirational sources, they often flourish in different realms. This release circles around the idea of bringing (back) visual elements into the musical experience. The term “soundscapes” refers to acoustic environments created by contingent phenomena. Sounds create scapes, evoking visual experiences. The compositions on this recording are capable of creating landscapes and seascapes in their own right. The three sonatas by Edward Elgar, Felix Mendelssohn, and Robin de Raaff originate environments that allow juxtapositions, pairings with three short pieces by Florence Price, Felix Mendelssohn, and Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco.

This is an album that portrays an imaginary weird audition that took place in Leipzig in 1723. After Johann Kuhnau's death the Thomaskirche was in search of a new Kantor. For different reasons Telemann, Fasch and Graupner declined and the fourth choice happened to be Johann Sebastian Bach. Thomas Triesschijn and his ensemble imagine a dialogue among the four giants through their own compositions for recorder and orchestra. This recording is not only a showcase for a great virtuoso, but a fully enjoyable album with plenty of wonderful music. Triesschijn and Counterpoint previous (and first) release was awarded the Gramophone Editor's Choice: "This debut album is, hands down, some of the best recorded Telemann out there, and I am ready to go fist to fist with anyone who disagrees."

Fr�derick Franssen writes: "From among the enormous choice of horn repertoire available in the early stages of my study of the instrument, my interest was piqued by the very earliest horn music. The music from that era did and still does exert it's magic on me due to the pure beauty of it's clear and transparent sound world. One of my first finds on this quest of discovery through the Baroque period was a concerto by an unknown hand, which appears on this album and comes from a very special collection - the 'Wenster'. The library at the University of Lund in Sweden contains one of the largest collections of horn music from the first half of the 18th century, under the name of 'Wenster'. The manuscript contains 18 works, with virtually all of the composers having some sort of connection to the city of Dresden, and it may have been transcribed by a travelling horn player during a visit to that city. The six works on this recording are all taken from this collection."

Mors Aeterna for orchestra, which was premiered in November 2015 during the NTR Saturday Matinee series, narrates a quest for stillness, a piece of pervasive calm, of gentle sounds which were intended to create the impression of having come from the hereafter: the Nirvana of silence where the soul can retreat. In the Second Violin Concerto, Diptych Portrait (2009) The orchestra is more of a sounding board than a partner in any dialogue. So what is this all about, these convulsive tensions, overblown crescendi? It is the soloist’s split relationship with himself. This is a double portrait of one individual, torn apart internally. The violin represents an abstract character that, despite being tormented and audibly injured, strives to come to terms with itself and even appears to succeed in doing so when we hear the serene sigh of enlightenment at the close of the piece. In The Tell-Tale Heart (2017) the building blocks of Jeths’ thematic narration are all there; death once again, once again an internal monologue. But now transformed by Jeths into an opera, intended to supplement Bartok’s one-act work Duke Bluebeard’s Castle – another horror story – a link actually referred to in the score. Here, the narrator of Poe’s tale becomes a woman, as Jeths needs the part to be sung by a soprano: a piece for musical theatre performed by a single, fairly obsessed character. Death may well be our fate, but you cannot have death on your conscience. Only when you have left your ghosts behind can your conscience find peace.

Dedicating an album to the dark side of the Lied might seem inappropriate in these times of Covid, climate change and refugee crises, but as a mezzo-soprano Olivia has always been drawn to the darker roles in opera, the sad arias in oratorio and the deep laments in song. After our recent recording (‘Dirty Minds’), which focused on ‘la petite mort’, it seemed a natural progression to turn our attention to ‘la grande mort’! Darkness in the outside world and the inner self has always been – alongside Love – one of the chief themes of vocal music, and compositions and songs about death are legion during every period of musical history. The music on this recording is extremely diverse and we relished the idea of programming songs from different centuries in different styles and genres. We begin with a collection of songs about melancholia, inner abysses, longing for death and murderous lust. But the album is also rich in songs about comfort and hope, light instead of despair – with lashings of black humor! Composers down the ages have used innovative approaches to render the theme of death. Chromaticism is used tellingly by Monteverdi and Schubert. Duparc’s sensuous ‘Extase’ (1878), is nothing short of a miniature Liebestod. Korngold and Wolfgang Rihm play with translucent semitone sighs, Schumann’s ‘Nachtlied’ is characterized by hovering harmonies; Strauss and Korngold use late-romantic opulence; while tonality with Charles Ives and Alban Berg begins to lose its hold, while Berg, abandons tonality entirely. John Cage goes a step further and directs the pianist to drum the notes on the lid of a completely closed piano. Randy Newman’s ‘In Germany before the war’ is wreathed in mystery.

Johann Sebastian Bach developed a new style, cembalo obbligato, where the right hand of the keyboard plays as a melody instrument and is given the same importance as the violin, flute or other solo instrument. His sonatas for melody instrument and keyboard instrument include works for flute, violin, and viola da gamba. It seems that the obbligato style interested him more than the traditional continuo role for the keyboard. As for the violin, there are two sonatas written with basso continuo and six with harpsichord obbligato. Among these works, the six sonatas in particular were conceived as a set, with a consistent style and a well-considered key distribution. This set is one of the highlights in the catalog of Bach’s chamber music. Bach’s son Carl Philip Emmanuel Bach writes to Bach’s first biographer, Johann Nikolaus Forkel, in 1774: “The 6 clavier [and violin] trios...are amongst the best works of my dearly beloved father. Even now they sound very good and give me many delights, regardless of the fact that they are over fifty years old.” The key distribution is somewhat symmetric and this suggests that Bach intended these as a set of pieces for violin, comparable to his unaccompanied sonatas and partitas for violin. Additionally, with the exception of Sonata No. 6, this set of works all follow the church sonata style.

The path traced on this album, with music by Georg Christoph Wagenseil (1715-1777), and on following ones has the undoubted merit of introducing us to some composers considered “minor” compared to Haydn and Mozart. They were not only very active and influential on the musical life of that time; they also created a considerable amount of quality music, which deserves to be rediscovered and appreciated. In a historical-musical perspective, the music of these less famous authors helps to reconstruct the passage between the decline of the Baroque, towards the middle of the eighteenth century, and the noon of the classical style. A period that we often classify as ‘pre-classical’ or ‘galant’ or ‘early Viennese school’. This praiseworthy cultural operation, aimed at rediscovering not only “minor” composers but also certain genres considered “domestic” music allows us to better understand how the “musical landscape” looked like, especially in Vienna.

Domestic music responded to the desire for cultured entertainment not only for the aristocracy but also for the rising bourgeois class; and as such, it constituted an indubitable status symbol. The six sonatas in trio on this album, dating from around the 1750s can be ascribed to the genre of ‘divertimento’: before 1780 the term was all-encompassing, and included all non-orchestral instrumental music, including sonatas and quartets. Above all, the idea of “musical conversation”, or dialogue or discourse between the different instruments, is very present in this type of composition, in which a pleasant and well-regulated lounge conversation is simulated and sublimated with just the notes. The collection of Six Sonatas, presented on this CD, from the early fifties of the eighteenth century should be placed among the first chamber documents for three independent strings, without the support of a keyboard instrument for the realization of the continuo.

Violinist Gunar Letzbor writes: “Franz Josef Aumann was born in the Austrian town of Traismauer in 1728 and studied music in Vienna, where he came across many important musicians of his time. It has not yet been established why in 1753 he relocated to Sankt Florian. He must have been unusually talented, as two years later he became Regens Chori, one year before his ordination to the priesthood. From that point he remained in the service of the monastery until his death in 1797. He composed “entertainment” music of the highest quality – pieces that were played for the amusement of invited guests, on special occasions, or simply between the various courses of lavish banquets. In the archives of St Florian Monastery not many chamber works have survived – only a handful, but these are of outstanding quality. The quintets are remarkable. Here the master develops a particular style of chamber music: two violins are juxtaposed with two violas. Both groups of instruments have equal status and enter into a lively discourse. Aumann mastered all the compositional techniques of his time. We can, however, observe a particular preference for melodic lines reminiscent of the folk music that was practiced in the region. For contrast, we have added the Cassatio in D, where the radiant sound of a flautello bestows a special aura upon the music. The concluding Parthia in C where trumpets symbolize the divinity or a high social position. Aumann must have been extremely innovative, not worrying too much about any rules within his environment.”

In the Italian society of the early eighteenth century, the musical genre of the chamber cantata was popular as a refined form of entertainment. The chamber cantata is a relatively short composition, consisting of a couple of arias with the addition of one or two recitatives. They were performed in the private ambiances of the noble circles. A performance just needed the instruments of the basso continuo (harpsichord, cello, and if wanted for example a lute) and of course an excellent voice. The Venetian composer Benedetto Marcello (1686-1737) was one of the most prolific composers of the genre, especially in his early years between 1710 and 1720. He wrote approximately 300 cantatas of which over 20 for the bass voice. This is an exceptionally high number. The composer strive to achieve a perfect harmony between poetry and music. As such, his cantatas were an invaluable laboratory for his famous Psalms. These were admired by great composers like Rossini, Bizet, Verdi, and Chopin. Verdi especially appreciated Marcello's recitatives.

The present recording offers five chamber cantatas of Marcello for the bass voice. All the cantatas of this recording are in RARA form(Recitative-Aria-Recitative-Aria) and the arias regularly have the da capo form. The recitatives are often unpredictable in their harmonic solutions. Like most of Marcello's cantatas, they treat the subject of love. But the lovers are not happy. They struggle with the all too human complexity of love: feelings of rejection, sadness, jealousy, hope, and mourning. Their thoughts and feelings are intended to stimulate personal reflection. For Sergio Foresti and his colleagues it was a great joy to explore this music together with its complex feelings and nuances. In the spirit of Benedetto Marcello they seek to express the words and meaning of the text in these virtuosic and beautiful compositions.

Erich Wolfgang Korngold (1897-1957) was a genius. Naturally he was most widely known and rewarded as one of the founding composers of Hollywood film music, but he is not a particularly well-known composer in the classical music world. His three string quartets are surely masterpieces and can be seen as modern tone poems imbued with beautiful melancholy and Viennese charm. A child prodigy, Korngold wrote some of the most heart-wrenching melodies, which are sure to leave any listener longing for more. His String Quartet No. 2, Op. 26 (1933) was written just before Korngold moved to Hollywood and is full of musical imagery of Vienna, with gestures towards the waltzes of Johan Strauss II as well as the intricate lyricism of Richard Strauss. A fierce anti-serialist, Korngold was determined that it was still possible to stretch the boundaries of tonality without adapting to the 12-tone technique. The String Quartet No. 3, Op. 34 (1945) is full of themes that he used in his film scores and was written when Korngold was suffering from deep depression. The quartet is much darker. Why did we choose to tackle Korngold’s music for this unique project of a direct-to-disc recording on vinyl? The music resonates deeply with us, as it represents the epitome of late romanticism and lyrical expression. We all have a profound love for romantic music and after listening to some recordings of his quartets we knew instantly these were the perfect fit for us. It was definitely a challenge to understand the idiom in Korngold’s writing. Our individual personalities as well as the Alma sound is clearly audible.

Raoul Steffani writes: “The album you have here is the culmination of a long-cherished desire – a program devoted to both Robert and Clara Schumann and the musical dialogue that blossomed between them during the early years of their married life, through their poems and song compositions. I am absolutely delighted and grateful for the opportunity to record this program along with a selection of Robert Schumann’s most beautiful duets, in a truly luxurious pairing with mezzo-soprano Magdalena Kožená and my regular piano accompanist Gerold Huber.”