This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

Will listeners raised on virtuoso performances of Mozart's piano concertos be able to make room in the hearts for Christian Zacharias' recordings with the Orchestre de Chambre de Lausanne? It depends on how willing they are to forego the pleasures of virtuosity for the pleasures music-making. This is not to say that Zacharias isn't a virtuoso pianist. As his twenty years of recordings make very clear, he has talents and abilities far beyond those of most mortal pianists. But it is to say that, as those recordings make equally clear, Zacharias is far more interested in music-making than he is in virtuosity. As both pianist and conductor here, Zacharias leads performances which are all about sympathetic interplay, about musicians listening to each other, about the meaning behind the notes and the joy inside the notes. The Lausanne musicians respond joyfully to Zacharias' direction, playing with him and not for him and breathing life into every line and sonority. While listeners raised on virtuoso performances may find something lacking, those listeners who value playing together more than showing off will find much to enjoy.

Musikproduktion Dabringhaus und Grimm's sound is ideally balanced between detail and depth and between immediacy and atmosphere, thereby providing an aural image of a real pianist with a real orchestra in a real place in real time.

- James Leonard, AllMusic Guide

Baroque composer and violinist Giuseppe Tartini took up the violin after fleeing persecution by Cardinal Giorgio Cornaro. While seeking refuge at the monastery of St. Francis in Assisi, he heard Francesco Maria Veracini’s playing. After hearing such virtuosic talent, he fled to Ancona and locked himself away to practice, emerging an extraordinary violinist. Tartini’s Sonatas show the intimacy of the composer’s abilities, while the Concertos broadcast the musician’s big artistic personality. The works brilliantly complement one another on this release. For more than twenty years, violinist Crtomir Siskovic has dedicated himself to Baroque music. He performs with a violin and bow from the era, and has recorded multiple albums of Tartini’s music.

Classical Music

Leonid Desyatnikov is one of the most respected Russian composers of our time. He first made a reputation with a number of film scores, then later achieved greater worldwide fame when the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow premiered his controversial opera The Children of Rosenthal. He is a graduate of Leningrad Conservatory, where he studied composition and instrumentation. He has written four operas, several cantatas, and numerous vocal and instrumental works. This release includes the world premiere recording of his 1992 chamber work Sketches to Sunset, as well as his 2000 work Russian Seasons for Violin, Voice, and Strings.

Silvius Leopold Weiss loved the lute. An exact contemporary of J.S. Bach, he worked in the Dresden court composing hundreds of lute pieces. This volume by American Robert Barto is the eighth in his Naxos series.

For a variety of reasons - including an interdict on their distribution by his patron and the fact that many survive only in tablature, not to mention their extreme difficulty - it’s a wonder that we’re able to hear them at all. The provenance, near destruction and geographical scattering - collections exist in London and Dresden - make teeth-chattering reading. Indeed a sonata on the already-published Volume 1 (Naxos 8.553773) was misidentified as Number 36: it should be Number 11. This is all the more unnerving when one remembers in what high esteem Weiss was held both in Germany as lutenist while still alive, and subsequently by musicologists aware of his gifts and tantalised by the wished-for prospect of his having written music other than for the lute.

Barto presents three sonatas on this CD: Numbers 36, 19 and 34. It can be said from the start that the playing is sharp and expressive and thus that the CD can be immediately recommended. It will be interesting to see how a ‘rival’ series by Yasunori Imamura on Claves - so far only Volume 1 has been released on 50-2613 - compares. Barto’s approach more earthy than Imamura’s with slightly more poise and a ‘stringier’ sound; perhaps even more downright accomplished. Each has its merits and each more than passes muster. Reviews of previous volumes in the Naxos/Barto series on MusicWeb have been enthusiastic. Volume 8 is no exception.

Sonata - we should probably call it a Suite - 36 is highly typical of Weiss’s later approach: a three-part texture in cantabile style. It’s a lovely, gentle, work with intricacies and simplicities in equal measure. At times redolent of Bach - listen to the development of the end of the allegro, tr. 6, for example - the six movements follow one another like a happy, dancing couple.

Number 19 is harmonically conservative and shies away from anything at all angular or extrovert, though the music is full of impact and makes special use of folk dances. After listening to the Sonata, one seems to have experienced as much as heard the tunes, the overt and hidden rhythms and the contrasts between movements. Barto is highly skilled at leading us through that experience.

Number 34 is one of Weiss’s most popular sonatas and evidently was used for teaching. But it’s no simplified exercise. With superb part-writing and luminous, improvisatory singing sequences, it contains arguably the most lovely music on this CD.

If you’ve been collecting Barto’s Naxos Weiss series until now, you’ll need no encouragement to buy this latest volume. If you haven’t come across it yet, this is as good a place to start as any. If it’s the sound of the lute you’re after, then Weiss’s expertise drawing out every nuance will thrill and reward.

-- Mark Sealey, MusicWeb International

Includes work(s) by Sir Malcolm Arnold. Ensemble: East Winds.

Includes work(s) by Arnold Bax. Soloist: Laurence Jackson.

Includes work(s) by Domenico Cimarosa. Ensemble: Toronto Chamber Orchestra. Conductor: Kevin Mallon.

Classical Music

John Ramsay is a professor of geology by profession but also a very serious composer, of both chamber and orchestral works. His style is chiefly tonal though he does utilise serial techniques on occasion. The four string quartets are perfect examples of the best of 'post-modernist' music, employing no artificial boundaries, but being pure self expression using the most appropriate musical forms. They are to some degree programmatic and thus Romantic in idiom too and thoroughly deserve a place in the chamber music repertoire.

Voices of Women is the second CD release by the duo of mezzo-soprano Bettina Smith and pianist Einar Røttingen. The recording highlights women's voices in world literature: Goethe's female characters "Mignon" and "Suleika," Shakespeare's "Ophelia," and the gospel according to Mary Magdalene. The musicians have placed their focus on contemporary Norwegian music composed for voice and piano, and two of the works were written especially for them.

I gained significant enjoyment from this desirable release. The delightful and substantial Five Novelettes are a hidden gem worthy of discovery.

Founded over sixty years ago in Chicago the Fine Arts Quartet is a highly accomplished ensemble. On the evidence of these superb performances and other recent releases such as the Schumann String Quartets 1-3 they prove themselves to be in the same elevated league as ensembles such as the Emerson, Škampa, Talich, Takács, Hagen, Quatuor Mosaïques, Kodály, Henschel, Belcea and Zehetmair.

I strongly believe that Glazunov’s substantial output of music is not as well known as it deserves to be. The most frequently heard work is the Violin Concerto (1904). One sometimes hears music from his two major ballets Raymonda (1898) and The Seasons (1900) also the Chant du Ménestrel (1900) in either of its versions for cello and piano or for cello and orchestra. As a frequent attender of chamber music recitals I have yet to hear any performances of Glazunov’s chamber works. Although not known for their progressive or experimental nature his works are generally of high quality and I commend any chamber music lover to hear the two volumes of String Quartets from the Utrecht String Quartet on MDG 603 1236-2 (Quartets 3 and 5) and MDG 603 1237-2 (Quartets 2, 4 and Elegy for Strings) and also the recording of the Quartets 3 and 5 from the Shostakovich Quartet on Regis RRC 1211.

Grove-Online; Wikipedia and virtually every other resource I have consulted give the composition date for Glazunov’s Five Novelettes, Op.15 as 1886. However, the information in the Naxos booklet notes says 1881; which means that Glazunov would have been a mere sixteen year old when he wrote the score. Evidently he originally gave the less descriptive title of ‘Suite’ to this five movement work. Lasting almost as long in performance as the A major String Quintet the amiable and predominantly folk music-inspired Five Novelettes is an outstanding work and a hidden gem of the chamber music repertoire.

Glazunov’s Five Novelettes have all been given exotic titles. They open with an appealing Alla spagnuola (In the Spanish style). Briskly performed with high spirits by the Fine Arts Quartet the piece also contains a contrasting dreamy central section. The dance-like piece entitled Orientale has the character of a Percy Grainger folk dance rather than anything terribly oriental. Again there is a contrasting central core. In the Dorian mode the third movement is a reverential Interludium in modo antico that reminded me of sacred music from the Russian Orthodox Church. There’s considerable warmth and good humour to be heard in the Valse. The buoyantly played final piece, marked All’ungherese (In Hungarian style), convey strong evocations of tradition gypsy and Magyar rhythms.

The four movement String Quintet in A major, Op.39 is scored for a second cello rather than the more usual viola - in the manner of Schubert’s Quintet in C major, D. 956. Here the Fine Arts are augmented by the services of second cellist Nathaniel Rosen. The opening Allegro begins with a glorious melody for the viola. One is struck by the appeal of this highly attractive music infused as it is with lush and brazen Romanticism. Pizzicato strings herald the opening of the engaging Scherzo. The heartrending strains of the Andante could melt even the stoniest of hearts. In the highly-flavoured Russian-sounding themes of the Finale the players successfully conclude proceedings in a robust and vivacious manner.

There are only a small number of alternative versions of Glazunov’s String Quintet and Five Novelettes and none that I consider an improvement over this superb Naxos release. I am reasonably familiar with what is probably the best known version of the String Quintet from the ASMF Chamber Ensemble on Chandos (c/w Tchaikovsky String Sextet in D minor, Op 70). In the Five Novelettes the versions most likely to be encountered are those from the St. Petersburg String Quartet on Delos and also from the Lyric Quartet on Meridian; both recordings having the String Quartet No. 5, Op. 70 as their coupling.

I gained significant enjoyment from this desirable release. The sonics are to demonstration standard. The delightful and substantial Five Novelettes are a hidden gem worthy of discovery.

-- Michael Cookson, MusicWeb International

Rooted tonality spiced with dissonance.

The Welsh composer William Mathias died at the grievously young age of 58. I knew his name because of the Sinfonietta on a Pye LP (GSGC 14103). His music came to mean more to me when in 1975 I taped from BBC Radio 3 the first broadcast performance of This Worldes Joie. It was conducted by the composer who directed massed choirs – including children’s choirs - and the BBC Welsh Orchestra. The soloists were Kenneth Bowen and Janet Price. I listened obsessively to this extravagantly orchestrated work on tape and became increasingly impressed and won over. His writing for voices is orally intriguing and inventive; the same applies to his startling way with the percussion. There are echoes of Britten but the music breathes a deeper humanity and a more yielding emotional air. You can now hear that piece on Lyrita SRCD325 having first been issued on an EMI Classics LP (ASD3301). After that choral broadcast from the Fishguard Festival I scanned the Radio Times and added recordings of his orchestral pieces Requiescat, Litanies, Vistas, Helios and Laudi. Hearing his Elegy for a Prince I was further won over by the lapidary Baxian orchestral technique and ceremonial-magical atmosphere - the aural equivalent of druidic tapestry in motion. As for his Dance Overture it is irresistibly catchy and has more rumba in it than the Arthur Benjamin genre pieces.

Mathias wrote three symphonies and three string quartets. We can hear the three quartets conveniently assembled on this disc by a quartet who performed the Third Quartet and who were then invited to tackle all three. This they did at three separate recording sessions so there is no sense of a gabbled or ill-thought through results.

The First Quartet is dedicated to Alun Hoddinott and his wife Rhiannon. It inhabits a sombre world afflicted, to varying degrees of intensity, by anxiety. The language stands between the gloomier reaches of the ensemble writing in Warlock's The Curlew and the later Bartók quartets. This is leavened but never completely dispelled by a Bartokian didicoi wildness of the violins at 16:38. At 19:20 the violin primo is memorably heard high in the stave whistling wistfully. The music ends in a not unclouded tenderness. The music of the four movement Second Quartet takes wing although always feeling the pull of sorrow. The solo violin carries this flighted buoyancy (tr. 2 4:02) but there are also vigorous chafing insect-stridulant voices. The second movement smacks of folk music veering between the Celtic muse and the Appalachian hills. There’s also a Britten-like pizzicato which in this close recording pings in the ears with physical impact. The andante returns to the gloomy undertow of the First Quartet. The finale has the exuberant complexity of the Tippett Concerto for Double String Orchestra as well as the seething weave of insectiform lines. Mathias's last quartet – The Third - was not intended to be his last. He had accepted a commission from the Lindsays but death intervened. The third is in three movements. Lyrical release can be found in the first movement as can springy Tippett-like ideas often set amid potently grave reflective writing. The finale begin dramatically with a sort of suppressed shriek and soon develops a strongly etched rhythmic energy - a rough magic that also ends the piece.

Interesting that all three of these serious works have an Eastern European leaning amid a rooted tonality spiced with dissonance.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

American cellist Wendy Warner pairs a huge, lustrous tone with diamond-edge virtuosity, apt for a protégé of Russian icon Mstislav Rostropovich. She is ideal in this set of 20th-century Russian pieces with Moscow-bred pianist Irina Nuzova. The Adagio from Prokofiev's ballet Cinderella" could melt the hardest heart, especially when played with Warner's passion. The Sonata No. 2 by Nikolai Miaskovsky, an elder contemporary of Prokofiev, brims with dark lyricism; the duo make its neglect seem unjust. A Scriabin etude transcribed by cello great Gregor Piatigorsky comes across like an operatic aria, while Alfred Schnittke's "Musica Nostalgica" is a post-modernist dream of old Russia. Rachmaninoff's big Cello Sonata is another experience in melodic melancholy, with Warner's tonal palette all woody brown and smoldering red." -- Bradley Bambarger, Newark Star Ledger

Jennifer Higdon's String Poetic is a major work--substantial (20-plus minutes), significant (conceptually and technically), and successful. In other words, this is a composition of, by, and for the violin and piano, a celebration of instruments as much as it is a tour de force for the players. The piano's bold opening announcement tells us that no time will be wasted on introductory niceties; this music plunges both violin and piano immediately into the middle of Higdon's fiery furnace where the raw materials of texture and timbre are forged along with some notational wizardry to create a multi-layered, multi-movement work that's a rare marvel these days: no hint of composer "see what I did" self-indulgence or impenetrable "you can't understand this without a playbook" construct. What Higdon offers is five movements that are intriguingly varied (hard and fast, moody/contemplative, jaunty, etc.), never too long (that is, never lacking ideas or how to develop them), and always technically assured in the manner of one who intimately knows both instruments. Higdon's use of stopped piano strings for the work's odd-numbered movements is certainly a nice touch that, far from a mere gimmick, adds unusual colors that sometimes gives the impression of a third instrument playing.

Jennifer Koh, for whom String Poetic was written, plays with such powerful, right-to-the-edge virtuosity, and the recording is so expertly engineered that you easily forget about amplifiers and speakers and just become absorbed into the violinist's and music's presence. And let's not forget pianist Reiko Uchida, whose part seems every bit as formidable as Koh's, and whose own virtuosity is just as impressive.

Of the program's remaining works, Carl Ruggles' Mood probably is the more mystifying and interesting (and it fits well here even though it was written 70 or more years before the disc's other pieces!). Ruggles was a non-conformist whose brand of atonality can be alternatingly grating and sensual (in a gritty sort of way!), the strings of dissonances seeming more accidental than planned. A famous story goes that a friend arrived at Ruggles' Vermont house for a visit, waiting outside his studio for more than 10 minutes while the composer banged relentlessly a single chord on the piano. When he finished, the guest entered and asked Ruggles why he had kept playing the same chord over and over for so long. "Because," he replied, "I was thinking of using it in a piece and I just wanted to see if it held up." Who knows whether that chord ever made it into a composition: Ruggles was constantly making sketches and notes, leaving his ideas unfinished and moving on to another. Mood is a transcription/reconstruction of some Ruggles sketches made by his friend John Kirkpatrick after the composer's death, and it embodies all of the above characteristics--grating, grittily sensual, dissonant--and again, Koh and Uchida give full measure to important matters of texture and timbre, never letting up on energy or momentum for the work's six minutes.

Lou Harrison's Grand Duo certainly lives up to its name--for me its nearly 31 minutes is about seven or eight too many--but the two performers leave no doubt about their commitment to exploit its many facets and moods: the first-movement Prelude is a marvelous, many-colored evocation of something ancient and mysterious; the Polka is one of the wildest dances you'll ever hear. As the notes mention, in the Stampede and Polka movements Harrison also writes "complicated octave patterns" for the piano that Uchida manages by means of a special "octave bar". John Adams' concluding Road Movies is a fun, lively, rolling, meandering, ostinato-laden, pulse-and-rhythm-shifting, three-movement piece, light-hearted and serious (both moods admirably captured by Koh and Uchida), and just plain irresistible for all of its 16 minutes. If you love the violin and piano and you want to come away with a happy experience (73-plus minutes) of listening to some relatively modern works, don't miss this! Highly recommended.

--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

THE BALKAN PROJECT • Cavatina Duo • CEDILLE 90000117 (66:30)


Arrangements by MIROSLAV TADIC, CLARICE ASSAD, ALAN THOMAS , and others


There is an important trend in music that doesn’t yet seem to have a name. As interest in indigenous non-classical music from various cultures gathers steam, hybrids between these and classical music continue to draw scrutiny from audiences and performers, most famously Yo-Yo Ma and his Silk Road Ensemble. These influences can be traced back centuries, of course (i.e., Mozart’s interest in Turkish music is but one example), but the influence has gone far beyond the colorful additions of particular instruments or a specific regional tang added to an otherwise Western piece. Many of these styles are entering the very DNA of our music as a natural extension of globalization. The name Third Stream was coined a half century ago by Gunther Schuller to describe “a new genre of music located about halfway between jazz and classical music.” Any votes for Fourth Stream?


This terrific new disc of flute/guitar duos occupies one of the many possible points on the classical/folk continuum. Since it consists entirely of music of the Balkans, it also occupies a critical space on the East/West divide. In a nutshell, the music consists of arrangements of songs and dances from the region, commissioned by the Cavatina Duo, one of whom hails from the region (Bosnian guitarist Denis Azabagic) and one of whom doesn’t (Spanish flutist Eugenia Moliner). The notes don’t refer to the use of improvisation in any of the works, but there is a sense of spontaneity to many of the pieces that suggests that the original sources may have employed extemporaneous methods in part.


There is probably still a pervasive belief among many music lovers that “folk” denotes unwavering simplicity, a stereotype that should long ago have been dashed among those with even a cursory knowledge of this region. Some of these works exhibit a dizzying complexity of meter that would confound many a trained classical performer. Even traditional love songs can be found in odd meters, such as the endearing Macedonian song Eleno, Kerko Eleno , in 7/8 throughout. The signature augmented fourth interval so common in the Middle East can be heard in this disc as being a part of this region as well, the apt label for the scale being the “Balkan Minor.” The closest the collection comes to the inclusion of a suite is the Four Macedonian Pieces by Miroslav Tadic. The opening “Jovna Kumanovka” has beguiling melody in a lightly syncopated lilt, and the tune is tossed between the flute and different registers of the piano. The guitar line of “Padushko” sizzles, and the dance pushes ahead in an almost dizzying 5/8 meter.


The duo is unerringly captivating in this literature. Moliner has a rich, soulful tone that suits the music perfectly, and Azabagic has plenty of chops to negotiate the demands of this frequently virtuosic work. The natural audience for this disc would be flutists, guitarists, and students of the region, but it’s hard to imagine anyone not finding lots of pleasure here.


FANFARE: Michael Cameron


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the notes for this excellent program, guitarist/composer Vojislav Ivanovic describes "the Balkans" as a dividing line between East and West, an exciting crossroad of civilizations" that incorporates many countries, from Macedonia and Greece to Bulgaria, Serbia, Bosnia, Croatia, Turkey, and Romania. And in their very felicitous partnership, Bosnian guitarist Denis Azabagic and flutist Eugenia Moliner (whose roots are Spanish) perform modern arrangements of songs and dances from these regions, many of which were commissioned by Cavatina Duo. There's a wide range of moods, melodies, and rhythms, and the original songs are exploited in many different ways by the nine or 10 composers who contributed to the project. There's the "impressionistic"-flavor of Ivanovic's setting of a traditional Bosnian song (tr 2), or the light-jazz feel to Matthew Dunne's arrangement of the Macedonian song "Eleno, Kerko, Eleno" (tr 3); "Kalajdzisko Oro" (tr 4) is a wild, swirling dance in 11/8, in a virtuosic setting by Clarice Assad. In fact, perhaps the most prominent feature of many of the selections is the complex rhythm--or often combinations of rhythms--that at once engage the listener and seriously challenge the players. One of the dances--Boris Gaquere's "Kopanitsa da Kalantchatska" from Bulgaria--even requires a nifty bit of "drumming" from the guitarist!

These fascinating rhythmic elements--often in irregular divisions of 7/8, 9/8, 5/8, or the aforementioned 11/8--are characteristic of much of this music, and it makes listening easy and fun as well as keeping the timbres of guitar and flute lively and interesting over the course of the disc's 66-plus minutes.

And whatever challenges the arrangers have presented prove no problem for Azabagic and Moliner; these are two phenomenal musicians whose collaborative timing and keen rhythmic sense allow each of the 16 songs and dances to truly sing and dance with delightful spirit and an ingratiating lack of inhibition.

For me, some selections seem a bit long for the material--the first two of Miroslav Tadic's Macedonian Pieces--or veer too close to the realm of what used to be called New Age--Alan Thomas' Croatian song "The Shepherd's Dream"; yet for many listeners this will be exactly the right thing, and Moliner and Azabagic leave little room for criticism of their artistic commitment or technical skill. Tadic's rousing dances--the last two of his Macedonian Pieces--especially the frighteningly tricky "Pajdushka" (in 5/8), along with the program's final piece, Clarice Assad's metrically boggling Bulgarian folk dance (including a section of 9/8+7/8+11/8), are bound to awake movements in your body as you listen that you didn't know you had! As is expected with Cedille, the sound, this time from a Chicago studio, is ideally suited to the music and to the timbres and balance requirements of the two instruments. Strongly recommended.

--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

The works on this release were performed in the Dresden Staatskapelle’s second symphony concert of the 2002/2003 season on September 29 and 30 and October 2, 2002. It was Bernard Haitink’s first subscription concert as Principal Conductor of the orchestra, after he had spontaneously declared his willingness to take over this position and support the Staatskapelle in the difficult situation that had arisen following the sudden death of Giuseppe Sinopoli the previous year. It still seems a stroke of luck for Dresden, and in particular for its orchestra, that it could find a personality of such international standing who had a deep understanding both of the Staatskapelle’s great tradition and of its special character and thus was uniquely qualified to maintain and enhance its high artistic level, its individual sound and its worldwide reputation. Orchestra and conductor had known each other since 1989 from recordings and concerts at home and abroad. This then was the beginning of a sustained, if all too short, period of continuous work togheter, which wonderfully met the highest expectations “at home” and on tour in Europe and the Far East.

The Italian pianist Marco Vincenzi, director of the “Centro Studi Musicali Ferruccio Busoni” in Italy, gives an impressive interpretation of these Schubert works transcribed by Busoni and never recorded before. In a single release we are treated to all of Busoni’s Schubert transcriptions. It is delightful music in itself, and masterfully arranged for piano by Ferruccio Busoni. These are some of the first transcriptions made by Busoni, and are receiving here their first recordings on an original Steingraeber piano.

Hummel’s affinity with Mozart’s musical language began in 1786, when the very young Johann Nepomuk lodged with the Mozart family in their home for two years. • Hummel’s interest in, and knowledge of his teacher’s works for fortepiano and orchestra is attested by many accounts. • This recognized authority, added to the widespread approval he enjoyed as a composer, created the context in which Hummel produced his numerous transcriptions (approx. 50), scored principally for flute, violin, cello and fortepiano, applying now-historically valuable improvisatory practice solutions as well.

RHEINBERGER Organ Concertos: No. 1 in F; No. 2 in g. 3 Pieces for Cello and Organ • Stefan Johannes Bleicher (org); Douglas Boyd, cond; Musikkollegium Winterthur; Cäcilia Chmel (vc) • MDG 1643 (SACD: 57:58)


Josef Rheinberger (1839–1901) is frequently named alongside Max Bruch, Karl Goldmark, Robert Fuchs, and Carl Reinecke when mention is made of late 19th- to early 20th-century German Romantic composers who cultivated an essentially conservative style influenced by the Mendelssohn-Schumann-Brahms-Joachim axis. Budding composers from abroad, including America, flocked to Germany to study under these men and to have bestowed upon them the mantle of a proper German pedigree. In Leipzig, Reinecke could claim Grieg, Sinding, Svendsen, Janá?ek, and Weingartner among his students; while in Munich, Rheinberger could name Humperdinck, Parker, Chadwick, Wolf-Ferrari, Thuille, and Furtwängler among those he instructed.


Rheinberger’s instrument was the organ, a fact that’s hard to ignore based on his vast output in which the organ plays a dominant role. Yet, in his entire voluminous catalog—the solo organ pieces alone occupy 12 CDs—the two concertos on this disc are the only concerted works I’m aware of that he wrote for organ and orchestra. The mind leaps immediately to the similar compositions by Rheinberger’s French contemporaries Widor and Guilmant, but the reality is that Rheinberger’s concertos are in a more classical mold and of a thematic content somewhat similar to the chorale-like melodic and harmonic manner of Saint-Saëns. Oddly, as well, there are not a few passages that seem to anticipate the sort of ceremonial hubbub and pageantry one hears in Elgar’s soon-to-be pomp and circumstance mode. Rheinberger’s concertos, however, predate the earliest of Elgar’s coronation marches by 17 and seven years, respectively.


The Concerto No. 1, dated 1884, two years before Saint-Saëns’s brilliant “Organ” Symphony, is modestly orchestrated for three horns (or two horns and bassoon) and strings, with the organ filling in for the absent winds. Scoring in the Concerto No. 2 of 10 years later isn’t much augmented, but to the earlier ensemble Rheinberger adds two trumpets and timpani, so that the organ must still furnish the sonorities that would ordinarily be supplied by flutes, oboes, and clarinets. If the Second Concerto finds its voice somewhere between Saint-Saëns and Elgar, the First Concerto reaches a bit further back, perhaps to Mendelssohn and Schumann.


These are not hard works to like. They’re tuneful, spirited, and engaging enough that one doesn’t miss the fuller symphonic approach that Saint-Saëns took to the orchestra or the more variegated splashes of color Widor and Guilmant drew from their Cavaillé-Coll and French organs.


There are two or three more recordings of these works available than I find reviewed in the Fanfare Archive. In 23:6, John Bauman covered a Classico release featuring organist Ulrik Spang-Hansen with the Chamber Philharmonic of Bohemia led by Douglas Bostock; while in 28:5, James Reel readdressed a Capriccio recording that had originally been reviewed in 16:2 and was recycled in SACD format with the rear channels presumably artificially processed. That disc featured organist Andreas Juffinger with Harmut Haenchen conducting the Berlin RSO. Not reviewed, as far as I can tell, are recordings by Ulrich Meldau with Daniel Schweizer presiding over the Zurich Symphony Orchestra on the Motette label, and a more recent Naxos version by organist Paul Skevington with Timothy Rowe leading the Amadeus Chamber Ensemble. Of these several editions, the only one I have for comparison purposes is the Juffinger in its “enhanced” SACD incarnation.


The Capriccio booklet has nothing to say about the organ, though the recording was made in Berlin’s Jesus-Christus-Kirche, so I assume the instrument to be of German, Swiss, or Dutch pedigree, but for the concertos the new MDG recording is to be preferred. Newly recorded in February 2010, the disc is in true surround format. Full-page specifications are given on Winterthur’s historic Stadrkirche organ built by E. F. Walcker in 1887–88 and restored in 1980–84 by the Swiss firm currently doing business as Kuhn Organ Builders, Ltd. And MDG’s Bleiche and Boyd are considerably more animated than Capriccio’s Juffinger and Haenchen in every movement of both concertos, delivering performances that are crisply articulated and in which the organ and orchestra are beautifully integrated.


MDG’s bonus is three pieces— Abendlied, Pastorale, and Elegie —Rheinberger transcribed for cello and organ from a set of six pieces he’d originally written for violin and organ at the dual requests of church organist Johann Georg Herzog and the composer’s publisher, August Robert Froberg. Adagio meditation-type pieces for a solo string instrument accompanied by organ were rarities, if indeed they existed at all at the time. Rheinberger’s contributions are exactly what you would expect—the musical equivalent of votive candles flickering in the transepts. Cellist Cäcilia Chmel plays prayerfully enough, but the angels remain frozen in their friezes, unmoved by Rheinberger’s entreaties.


Definitely recommended for enjoyable, if not great, music, fine performances, and superb recording. I will not, however, be throwing away my Juffinger and Haenchen on Capriccio for the simple reason that it includes Rheinberger’s Suite for Violin and Organ, op. 166, a lovely neobaroquish affair that echoes with distant strains of Bach, Handel, and Corelli, and is a more substantial and preferable alternative to the three cello pieces on the current disc.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

These two volumes [6 & 7] of the complete solo piano music of Bohuslav Martinu announce the completion of an outstanding undertaking. The series was originally intended to run to only four discs but has since trawled further outwards. The catch means it is now, quite clearly, the most extensive and exhaustive collection of the works for solo piano ever recorded.

Volume six starts with the 1931 Esquisses H203. They’re written in pungent neo-classical form, and hints of chinoiserie, Paris-style, haunt the second of the six, as well as Ragtime. Martinu, though, always remained far more allusive stylistically than fellow Czech Schulhoff in this regard. Impressionist hues haunt the Fourth whilst I’m sure I hear a larky Volga Boatmen embedded in the Ragtime melos of No.5 – plenty of sinewy articulation here.

Jeux was also written in 1931 and is a locus classicus of Martinu cross-rhythms. I suggest you start with No.3 of the four of Book I, which is both fluent and fluid but also sports a characteristically saturnine neo-classical drive. The second book is no less fine for all that: in some ways it’s more piquant still, with a warm and malleable quality to the Andante [No.3] and a martial tune laced with Prokofiev-like moments [No.6]. We go right back to 1917 for Tri lyrické skladby (Three Lyric Pieces). These take in a Mussorgsky Pictures feel in the first of the three. The second starts like an etude, diverts to popular chinoiserie, then noodles off in the direction of the nineteenth century drawing room. Weird mélange.

There are pieces you probably have not come across even in literature devoted to the composer. The Black Bottom is one. It dates from 1927 and is a delightful minute’s worth of your time. The sleeve note writers have relied too much on Wikipedia for this one. Jelly Roll Morton’s Black Bottom Stomp came via Perry Bradford’s introduction of it in 1919 in Nashville, Tennessee, not the Black Bottom district of Detroit. Naturally you won’t be interested in this, but I am.

Vecer na pobreží (Evening at the Shore) dates from 1921 and will intrigue admirers of the composer. In three brief movements he creates an intimate impressionistic tableau, somewhat reliant on Griffes possibly, where, in the central panel, the left hand waves lap into the right hand melody line delightfully and where the storm in the finale gently eases away. This may seem atypical but it shows the ease with which he assimilated French models and distilled them potently. The disc ends with the grand bell peals of Písen beze slov, the valedictory Nocturne and the plangent Chanson triste in D minor....

So Koukl’s pilgrimage has come to its end. He has been a most worthy guide, and now takes his place at the top table of Martinu performers on record. At budget price he has no peers. As a complete cycle this set has no rivals. Individual performances from the likes of Firkušný, Leichner and others may be more arresting in isolation but the overarching reach of Koukl proves dominant and permanent.

-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International

For British listeners, the name of Reinecke is likely to evoke Stanford’s recollection - after an uninspiring period of study with him - that “of all the dry musicians I have ever known, he was the most desiccated”. Scandinavians will remember that Grieg thought no better of the man and that for Svendsen, “not only is he envious and bloodless … he is also in the highest degree villainous”. Yet many musicians sought him out during his long reign at the Leipzig Gewandhaus (1860-1895), including Sullivan, Bruch, Delius and the three just mentioned, while Elgar travelled to Leipzig in 1882 to hear him conduct.
 
If this all suggests a plodding academic, the “Undine” Sonata for flute and piano, the one work by Reinecke that remains at least on the fringe of the repertoire, is neither academic nor lacking in fantasy. A disc containing the First Symphony, the Violin Concerto and some smaller pieces suggested to me that further examination of Reinecke would be never less than pleasant, if hardly thrilling. Maybe thrilling would be too strong a word for these cello sonatas too, but they do suggest he was more inspired in chamber music than in larger orchestral pieces.
 
In some ways the first sonata is the most attractive of all. Its ballad-like opening theme immediately catches the attention and the second theme is not only well contrasted, it is introduced in a very remote tonality indeed. What is striking about this movement is the mastery with which it combines free-flowing, rhapsodic feeling with tight formal control. Though Reinecke is said to have looked back to Mendelssohn and Schumann for his models, and certainly rejected Liszt and Wagner, his music combines romantic spirit with an intuitive sense of form. Here, at least, he was able to make his own personal fusion of classical ideals and romantic freedom. The second movement also contains a number of quite contrasting ideas and the finale has much surging passion.
 
The claims of the second sonata are not to be underestimated, either. After a short but brooding introduction the first movement leads off with a pithy, expressive idea that revolved in my head for some days afterwards. Again, Reinecke’s formal control is tight even while the effect is of free rhapsody. The themes tend not to appear and reappear in the expected places and tonalities, and are inclined to undergo transformations just where an exact recapitulation might seem in sight. The second movement is marked “Quasi fantasia” and has much soaring romantic melody. The finale starts with a catchy tune but is inclined to chase its own tail a bit too much for its own good. This, admittedly, is a common failing among 19^th century finales when not written by Brahms.
 
Altogether, it may be said that, if Reinecke did not revolutionize sonata forms, he nevertheless evolved an intuitively inventive way of reinterpreting received formal wisdom. The interesting thing is that exactly the same thing could be said about his grudging pupil Stanford’s chamber music, even down to a tendency to write finales that chase their own tail. One is bound to wonder if Reinecke’s music did not have a greater influence on Stanford than he later cared to admit, having been so disappointed by the man himself. Also common to both composers is a complete equality between the two partners, with plenty of challenging material for both players and a continual melodic interplay that must make Reinecke’s chamber music rewarding to perform. Ultimately, I suppose this music inhabits smiling valleys and pleasant domestic surroundings rather than soar above the mountain peaks, but we can surely find a place for music that does this so attractively.
 
The third sonata arouses more ambivalent reactions. Dedicated “to the shade of Brahms”, who had just died, its formal mastery will not be questioned. Furthermore, while in one sense it occupies harmonic ground solidly rooted in Schumann, its restless modulations look ahead to the world of Reger. It is a bitter, even vehement work by a composer whose art was by then left high and dry by musical progress. The only problem is that Reinecke’s easy flow of melodic inspiration seems to have dried up. The themes are clear-cut and functional, but neither the composer’s masterly development of them, nor these performers’ imagination and conviction, can hide the fact that the cupboard is a little bare. Only the second theme of the finale recalls the warmth of earlier years. Nevertheless, as often with late works by composers clinging to the style of their youth in the teeth of what they perceive as ugly modernism, the sense of isolation and disillusionment can be moving in themselves. Here, too, the case of Stanford is an obvious parallel.
 
Manuel Fischer-Dieskau, just in case you’ve been wondering, is the great baritone’s son. It would seem that interventionism, as an interpretative creed, runs in the family. But, like his father at his best, MF-D knows how to intervene in a way that brings the music to life, and he extracts the maximum range of expression from these scores. The Canadian pianist Connie Shih has an easy technical command and a well-rounded tone in the heavier moments. She and the cellist seem in full agreement over how to play this music. They leave me wondering why the first two sonatas, at least, never made it into the not very large repertoire of romantic cello sonatas.
 
Cellists reading these words may be wondering where they can get the scores. They will be delighted to find that the IMSLP-Petrucci Library, a great Internet resource, apparently offers all three for free download. They will be a bit less delighted when they find that the file of no.1 is missing pages 4-15, jumping from the first page of the first movement to the last page of the second, so you get only the finale complete. Also, there’s not a cello part, instead there’s an alternative violin part. The second sonata is complete but the piano part of no.3 lacks the last page, or maybe the last two. In compensation you get pages 10 and 11 twice. I used to think that people who do things for love not money do them properly, but on this showing even some who work for love are as slap-happy as any half-hearted employee anxious for the next coffee break. Granted, one shouldn’t look a gift-horse in the mouth, but we may reasonably check that it has all four legs.
 
None of this little grumble, obviously, affects the value of this finely recorded and excellently annotated disc of three cello sonatas well worth investigating. The name of Reinecke is beginning to come alive for me.
 
-- Christopher Howell, MusicWeb International

LOEILLET DE GANT Recorder Sonatas • Daniel Rothert (rec); Keith Haugsand (hpd); Vanessa Young (vc) • NAXOS 8.572023 (73:35)


The Flemish Loeillet family produced several musicians in the late 17th century, including two cousins with the identical name Jean Baptiste Loeillet, both of whom were instrumentalists and composers. The longer-lived (1680–1730) and more prominent of the two emigrated to England around 1705 and subsequently styled himself “of London”; the other, shorter-lived (1688–c.1720) and more obscure, is featured here and known as “de Gant” after his birthplace of Ghent in Belgium. Virtually nothing is known of him except that at some point he entered the service of the archbishop of Lyon and died between 1720 and 1729, with the former date probably closer to the mark. His main musical legacy is a set of 48 recorder sonatas; 12 of these were published as opp. 1–4, from which eight have been selected for this release. While showing the influence of Corelli, French patterns of ornamental decorations are followed and there is significantly more use of counterpoint and development of the bass line than in most Italian models. Several of the sonatas also vary from the standard three- and four-movement patterns of the sonata da camera and sonata da chiesa , having five or even six movements.


Daniel Rothert is yet another top-notch recorder virtuoso to add to the ever-swelling ranks of the same. He plays with sweet, beguiling, liquid tone, and the most rapid passagework holds no terrors for his agile tongue and fingers. Keith Haugsand and Vanessa Young provide vital and skilled support in the continuo parts, and the recorded sound is fine. This disc does not have any competitor for repertoire; a Musica Ficta CD with the La Caccia ensemble features some different sonatas alongside trio sonatas by the London Loeillet, while ArkivMusic mistakenly lists a Christophorus CD with the Ensemble Mediolanum performing works by “John of London” under Loeillet de Gant. But even if an alternative existed, all lovers of recorder music should snap this up forthwith.


FANFARE: James A. Altena