The profile of Norwegian soprano Mari Eriksmoen continues to rise through her regular appearance on Europe’s major opera, concert and recital stages, and she is consistently praised for her compelling blend of radiant stage personality and purity of vocal tone. This is her first opera arias recital and is focused on Handel and Mozart. Previously on album, Eriksmoen features on Schumann’s Szenen aus Goethes Faust with Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks under Daniel Harding, Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail, both with Akademie für alte Musik Berlin under René Jacobs and Glyndebourne Festival conducted by Robin Ticciati, and in a “poised, elegant and persuasive” (Guardian) debut recital album featuring songs by Grieg, Grøndahl, Wolf and Strauss with Alphonse Cemin (Alpha).

A series of high-quality concerts launched the success story of the Isabelle van Keulen Ensemble, which has since become well established on international concert stages and festivals. The subsequent recording of three successful albums testifies to the success story, the vast repertoire, and the versatility of the ensemble. From the very beginning, the Isabelle van Keulen Ensemble has been dazzling its audiences through its depth of musical expression, its technical brilliance, and the simultaneous mixture of melancholy and severity which is so typical of the Tango Nuevo, pairing great joy in playing with intimacy.

The artists write: "We were just 18 and 19 years old when we first ventured to play Mozart's Sonata for two pianos. We'd only been playing together for a year at the time. Schubert's Fantasy in F followed shortly afterwards. Now, 17 years on, we're finally brave enough to record these two iconic works. Over recent years, these two works have taken on the role of critical teachers, sources of inspiration and motivation for us to keep on developing, as a duo certainly, but also and mainly as individual musicians. We've been challenged by legendary recordings made by the likes of Radu Lupu & Murray Perahia, Josef & Rosina Lhevinne, and father and son Neuhaus to discover our own sound, both in this music and elsewhere. From the beginning seventeen years ago, we have been forced to face up to the fact that a good duo doesn't just happen when you put two good pianists together, and certainly not in Mozart or Schubert. Every note that's slightly misplaced, every chord that's not properly balanced can tarnish the performance. And every phrase when you don't breathe together. We gradually became more and more convinced that piano duo players have to be soloists, chamber musicians and an orchestra at the same time. As a duo, our aim is to have the freedom and virtuosity of a soloist, the ear and connectivity of a chamber musician and the tonal palette and nuanced subtlety of a symphony orchestra."

Willem De Fesch was born in Alkmaar in 1687. He deserves an honorable place alongside such greats as Vivaldi and Handel, as his works sound at least as colorful, playful, inventive and sparkling as those of his contemporaries. Sometime after 1700 his parents returned with him to Amsterdam. By then, the city had become an epicenter of music publishers. Many Italian composers published their work in the city; Vivaldi made public appearances and in 1729, Pietro Locatelli even opted to move there. In 1708, De Fesch was appointed violinist in the orchestra of the Amsterdam City Theatre. He composed a lot of music for stage performances himself, such as the concerts in C and A minor on this album. As far as we know, orchestral works only started to appear again in 1741: the audibly matured Opus 10, also on this release.

Michael Foyle: Exploring these Sonatas in 2020 took on a deeper significance beyond the anniversary celebrations. Recording all ten in Mechelen, Belgium, the home of Beethoven’s paternal ancestors, with much of the world’s population in isolation, his works revealed new layers of emotional intensity and psychological relevance. The Op. 12 Sonatas belong to the last decade of the eighteenth century, a period when Beethoven was conquering Vienna as the foremost keyboard virtuoso of the day but simultaneously seeking to have his compositions published for the first time. In essence, classical duo sonatas for piano and strings had grown from the eighteenth-century ‘accompanied’ sonatas, in which the string instrument provided a supportive role to the keyboard’s dominating textures. Here we witness a gradual incorporation of a ‘dramatic dialogue’ (to borrow Simon P. Keefe’s term) between instruments which had previously been more important in concerto writing. Beethoven’s Sonata No. 5 in F major Op. 24 is described by musicologist Angus Watson as ‘an exquisite testament to Beethoven’s profoundly religious feeling for the natural world.’

“I wish to be a living work of art,” reads the famous comment made by Luisa Casati, the extravagant marchesa who drew everyone's attention to herself as a high society personality in the early 20th century and who inspired a number of leading artists to take up their writing pens, paintbrushes and cameras: Casati was the most prolifically portrayed woman of her age. She was both Muse and Maecenas who gathered an extensive coterie of famous artists around herself – an egregious set of people, some of whom were also her lovers. She led a split existence. On the one hand, she turned herself into a living work of art and organized grotesque parties as the backdrops to her own performances; on the other hand, she commissioned artists to immortalize her as a “piece of art” – and artists were queuing up at her door as she had enormous wealth at her fingertips to realize these whims. In the opera, Casati’s biography is compressed into a single party evening at her Venetian palazzo. Over seven scenes, we see a melange of events from the heroine’s life that actually occurred over many decades, to which the creators then added their own dreamed-up plot. Jeths’s palette as a composer has become ever richer and more dramatic as the years have passed. His spectrum ranges from attention to sound and color to a subtle use of harmonic tension. His musical language was originally more atonal, but he has always flirted with tonality. And now more than ever, his notes are at the service of the text, the theatrical impression and the beauty of the human voice. In his music, Jeths employs multiple references to existing music.

Robin de Raaff completed Atlantis in the summer of 2016. The work is one that predominantly seems to progress from light to dark, with voice and instruments frequently melding into an overall sonority. That said, where the text is of major significance, De Raaff uses the voice as a lyrical element to let it soar above the orchestral timbres. To a large extent, Atlantis is based on "Atlantis", the final poem in Hart Crane's collection Bridges. Boulez, the last surviving giant of post-War modernism, passed away while De Raaff was working on Atlantis. "Boulez was the great proponent of modernism. The island that modernism actually was simply disappeared when he died. This is why I felt a homage would be appropriate." As De Raaff has the tonal focus descend more or less chromatically for each stanza, a feeling arises of a sinking movement. He also makes the feeling of sinking away below the mirror surface of the ocean musically understandable by using ever darker sounding instruments. The oratorio Atlantis is not just an argument for the use of contemporary vocal skills as an element of the entire history of music, but also and primarily a warning about stewardship of water and the future of our planet.

The present release is a set with which Challenge Classics intends to make its contribution to the celebrations for the 250th anniversary of the birth of Ludwig van Beethoven. It is a unique and completely original collection in the panorama of today’s discography, as it contains the complete corpus of the symphonies, as well as all the works for (instrumental) soloist and orchestra, i.e. all the concertos. All the works recorded here are directed by a single conductor, Jan Willem de Vriend, at the head of a single orchestra, the Netherlands Symphony Orchestra. It is clear that this aspect provides a unity, an organic force and therefore an authority that other collections featuring different directors cannot boast. Finally, all the recordings presented here were curated by Bert van der Wolf of Northstar Recording, one of the most innovative and capable sound engineers of the classic milieu.

For about 150 years it was believed that Schubert composed his Ninth Symphony in 1828, not long before his death but, musical scholarship being a continuous process, this theory was later disproved. It was discovered late in the 20th century that in fact he composed most of this work three years earlier and revised it in 1826 and 1827. Following a period of poor health, 1825 was a better year for Schubert, while his finances were also improved. Schubert never heard a single performance of many of his works, including this great symphony. When it was rehearsed in 1827 at the Gesellschaftder Musikfreunde in Vienna, the string-players complained that passages in which a rhythmic figure is obsessively repeated, especially in the finale, were unplayable. In May 1824 Schubert attended the first performance of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. Beethoven revolutionized symphonic form, expanding its expressive range enormously, his Ninth Symphony in particular being conceived on a much grander scale than any previous symphony. Schubert was just one of many composers influenced by Beethoven’s achievements. Many scholars have suggested the various ways in which Schubert was influenced by Beethoven, but the most extraordinary aspect of Schubert's mature music is its complete individuality. The compositional techniques, the handling of tonality and structure, and the orchestral sound of these two contemporaries have very little in common. Schubert’s own profound originality is all the more striking for its emergence at a time when Beethoven's impact on the development of the symphony was so revolutionary and far-reaching.

Nox, the Latin word for 'night'. In the world of art, the night of Schumann's Nachtstücke, Robert Zuidam's Nox and Ravel's Gaspard de la Nuit creaks open its doors like a haunted castle for romantic poets and composers. Night-time visions became the foundations of a pre-Freudian subconscious in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Some of the great writers discovered their dreams and anxieties, seeing themselves and the magic of imagination in the mirror of fantasy. It was no coincidence that their work provided intellectual sustenance for Robert Schumann, who also had a literary gift. His earliest works, which were entirely for piano up until his Nachtstücke, Op. 23, originated in psychological impressions gained from literature. Schumann wrote to his beloved, Clara Wieck, that the work stemmed from a premonition. During the composition, he kept seeing visions of funeral processions, “Coffins and miserable, despairing people”. His instincts had not deceived him: on completing the work, with tears in his eyes, he heard that his brother Eduard was on his deathbed. Listening to the Nachtstücke again and knowing this, one can hear the shadows falling over light and life, depicted by the pianist's defeated irony. For Dutch composer Robert Zuidam, night is the night of toil. Nox is a night owl's ode to the hours of his creativity. Ravel had done everything he could in his piano cycles Jeux d'eau and Miroirs towards de-romanticising the 19th century character sketch, but he took an important step forward in Gaspard as regards both virtuosity and idiom. His aim was to produce something that was even more difficult to play than Balakirev's notorious Islamey. Gaspard is a deranged combination of abstract pianistic hyper-virtuosity with derailed eruptions of waltzes, peppered with raging, flamenco-style note repetitions and unplayable cascades of clusters of seconds, betraying the signature of Ravel's exceptionally dextrous thumbs.

An intriguing project, whose programme is based on Lieder and traditional songs arranged for two tenors and piano. Well-known father and son, Christoph & Julian Pregardien, present these gentle and thoughtful, improvisational and communicative arrangements for two voices. The conditions under which Schubert’s art of the song developed into a kaleidoscopically incandescent spectrum that crossed over genres and the institutionally set, historical boundaries disappear today as a rule under the pedestal that the late nineteenth century began to erect for the composer. The traces of improvisational practice were increasingly lost within a music culture that stylized the printed manuscript into a quasi sacred object. A particularly successful way of leading back to a fundamental impetus in Schubert’s art of the song is through an approach towards the songs that takes the moment of spontaneous performance seriously as a communicative act, without denying the work character of Schubert’s music. The idea of ‘one’ universal human voice seems to materialize with particular intensity in the commingling of two voices of similar timbre, which can permanently interchange and double their identity. Based on our knowledge for instance of the Schubertiade reminiscences of 1868, remembered and noted down by Moritz von Schwind, can we not imagine that the ‘Schubert singers’ Johann Michael Vogl and Karl von Schönstein might indeed have sung alternately (or even in unison)? This is an interesting project, with programme based on Schubert’s Lieder arranged for two tenors and piano.

Nino Gvetadze finally takes on Robert Schumann’s music, a repertoire we think she is especially fit to. She chose three great works from the golden years 1838-9. Three different works, but all with strong autobiographical connections. Nino is one of Challenge pivotal artists and this is her third release on Challenge, after the successful Chopin (CC 72768) and Scott (CC 72819). BBC Music Magazine: There's always a sense of a musing, meditative intelligence exploring their layers of meaning in the very act of playing, as if she is spontaneously creating the Music under her fingers.

The Art of Fugue is both Johann Sebastian Bach’s opus summum and last complete work, presumably undertaken between1740 and 1742. Die Kunst der Fuga (KdF hereafter), in the form and the order presented in the Berlin Autograph, has all the appearance of a finished work featuring 14 fugues and canons, all based upon a single original theme, serving as the work’s foundation and with the individual pieces progressing in an increasing order of difficulty and contrapuntal perfection. This brief study sets out to attempt a switch in perspective, shifting from the ‘point of view’ of the First Printed Edition – through which the KdF has traditionally been examined by the vast majority of scholars – to that of the Berlin Autograph. Despite having already been studied and collated with the 1751 and 1752 editions, the autograph has always been viewed by the dominant ideology as incomplete; little more than a preparatory stage for its printed counterparts. Only in recent times have scholars started to note that the KdF as found in the autograph manuscript at the time of its completion might well stand comparison with the alleged ‘final version’ of the printed editions, and thus may be elevated to the full dignity of an Alte Fassung. And this study would argue that the Berlin Autograph contains, in fact, the latest and ‘closest-to-final’ version of the KdF, whilst the First Printed Edition is entirely the result of the conjoint efforts of Bach’s children and students as there is no proof that Bach was ever involved in preparatory works concerning any other of its pieces. Furthermore, the order displayed in the Berlin Autograph appears decidedly more logical and “artistic” than that of the First Printed Edition.

Peter Orth writes: "While it may seem that everything has been recorded in the classical canon, I've found there still is room for new interpretations. Oddly, the piano music of Johannes Brahms has by no means been exhausted. In my experience with American music teaching, the great masters were very much handled with a certain distant reverence - when in actuality they need to be approached naturally. Coming to live in Germany where the composers lived and worked removes these pedestals in favor of understanding their lives in the context of their surroundings. Having been in the same room to hear the likes of Callas, Baker, Bernstein, Celibidache, Horowitz, Rubinstein, Serkin, to mention only a few, showed me viscerally what kind of fire is involved in making a musical statement. Perhaps having been witness to a time now gone, arguably the last of the great performing generation, has informed in my ethos a kind of measuring stick against which to measure myself and be responsible to. Whether I can live up to any of it is not for me to say."

In 1799, after having made a name for himself with major compositions, but before finishing his first symphony, Beethoven wrote a work for mixed strings and winds. This piece, the Septet op. 20, would become one of his most popular compositions, with a large number of arrangements, including the one for piano trio on this album. The form is clearly related to the divertimenti by Mozart, with six movements that alternate fast and slow tempos. The appearance of the Triple Concerto on the final disc in this series might surprise some listeners, as it is the only work with orchestra, but this composition has more in common with chamber music than with concertos. It was written in 1805, and it's instrumentation is highly exceptional if not unprecedented altogether. In tone, it is rather a stark contrast from Beethoven's other concertos, which generally contain easily recognizable melodies and strikingly rhythmic material, neither of which are found to a great degree here. Furthermore, the opposition of soloist and orchestra, a central aspect of many solo works with orchestra written up until that point that was the engine behind much of the drama, is also absent, with the orchestra taking a largely subservient role to the three soloists. So, although the work was called a 'Grand Concerto Concertant' when it was published, it really has very little in common with other works with a similar title. The question is whether this piece is a concerto at all, or whether it could be more fruitfully played and judged as a different kind of experimental piece in a more collaborative genre. This disc takes the latter approach, and by contextualizing it in a series of piano trios, it presents this work as Beethoven's most richly instrumented chamber music.