First performed in French at the Paris Opera in 1867, Don Carlo is in many ways an amazingly innovative work. The opera seems to underline Verdi's shift from the Manichean division between good and evil, which had been a clear, structural element of his dramaturgy up to that point in his career. In this opera, Verdi assembles all his mainstay music theatre themes: power, with its honors and burdens; the contrasts of impossible love; the conflict between father and son; and an oppressed people demanding freedom. Verdi radically revised the score in 1883, using an Italian libretto and reducing the opera from five acts to four. The popularity of Don Carlo has grown unremittingly ever since, with today's critics almost unanimously recognizing it as one of Verdi's greatest masterpieces, an opera that continues to reveal new gems. Daniel Oren is fully in control on the podium, ensuring unanimity between orchestra and singers. The Maestro softens teh dark tones of the score, which are well reflected in the visuals, choosing instead to emphasize the various changes of mood.

Keith Barnard is a British composer whose music, rooted in spiritual exploration, both Eastern and Western, and is what is generically and rather loosely called "New Age" but which description does his thoughtful and deeply felt compositions a disservice. This world premiere recording is finely executed by American pianist Jeffrey Grossman.

This wonderful Celebration of English Song was recorded especially for SOMM by baritone Roderick Williams deliciously partnered here by Susie Allan in a collection to gladden the hearts of all lovers of English music. This splendidly wide-ranging collection features two well-loved song cycles, Butterworth's Six Songs from A Shropshire Lad and Finzi's Let us Garlands bring. It also includes some of the best- known English songs of the periods before and after World War II - Ireland's world- famous Sea Feverand Great Things and The Kiss and Flying Crooked, from Ian Venables - now widely regarded as the finest living English composer of art songs and a true successor to Benjamin Britten, represented here by two irresistible settings of English folk-songs, The Salley Gardens and The Ploughboy. Also included are songs by Quilter, Gurney, Warlock and E.J. Moeran.

Liszt Complete Piano Music, Vol. 23: Beethoven Symphonies No

The first cantata is about a rose - a symbol of love - which is spurned by Nysa and Chloris. The fourth cantata marks a turning point, which could well be the reason Ariosti scored the next three cantatas for alto. The title expresses it's content: 'Freedom acquired through love'. In the fifth cantata another image is used to depict the breakdown of love: a shipwreck. The first aria describes a storm at sea, with crashing waves, thunder and the absence of sunshine. The last cantata marks the return to the beginning: the protagonist has not really overcome his love for Nysa. Otherwise he would not feel that she, "who faithlessly seeks her delight in the arms of another, is the cause of my bitterness and misery". These cantatas make one understand that Ariosti was successful as a composer of operas; there is plenty of drama here. Not only the vocal parts but the instrumental parts as well depict the feelings expressed in the texts. It is impressive how the two melody instruments - originally two violins, here flute and violin - and the basso continuo illustrate the storm at sea in the first aria of Cantata No. 5. They also perfectly express the unhappy lover's feelings in his lament in Cantata No. 3.

Includes work(s) for pno by Frank Bridge. Soloist: Ashley Wass.

KOECHLIN Les Heures persanes • Ralph van Raat (pn) • NAXOS 8572473 (56:44)


Neither composer Charles Koechlin nor his masterpiece, translated as The Persian Hours, is nearly as well known or popular as Granados’s Goyescas or Albéniz’s Iberia, let alone the music of Debussy, so they have fallen into the category of musical oddities. (Other recordings include Kathryn Stott on Chandos 9974 and Michael Korstick on Hänssler 93246, also an orchestral version by Heinz Holliger and the Stuttgart Radio Orchestra on Hänssler 93125.) Part of the problem is that nearly all of the pieces in the suite are slow-moving, meaning that the pianist (or conductor in an orchestral version) needs to sustain not only the proper mood but also a semblance of forward momentum.


Enter pianist Ralph van Raat to the rescue. His recording of the suite, albeit slow-moving (slower, in fact, than Holliger’s orchestral recording), has such tremendous atmosphere and a sense of presence that one is seduced into Koechlin’s world and his own interpretation within the first three minutes of the recording.


Koechlin’s view of Persia (now Iran) was based on astronomical observations and a travelogue of the time rather than a first-hand trip to the area. Thus he captured a personal impression of Middle Eastern life, particularly nightlife when the stars were out and the world was still. Harmonically, he was at least as advanced as late-period Debussy, if not actually further along. Although most of these pieces tend toward a harmonically identifiable key, they skew away from it constantly; by the middle of each piece, the unobservant listener will be completely lost in regards to a harmonic base or balance. Some of them have an ostinato bass in one key, but the overlying music is in another. Indeed, it is this constant leaning away from any tonality—and the fact that the music sometimes leans in both directions at once—that gives it its unique flavor. Koechlin somehow manages to set up what sounds like a safe base but gently yet constantly pushes us away from it.


Raat’s performance, as already mentioned, is both musical and fascinating in the extreme. I do, however, question the very long pauses between each piece in the suite. After about the first 10 numbers, you’re not quite sure if each succeeding piece is the last one or not, but that’s probably a post-production decision. If you love this kind of music, this is a CD you simply cannot live without.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

A fascinating selection of Martinu's early piano works, plus two late trifles

In his classic biography of Martinu (Allen Wingate: 1962), Milos Šafránek states that in “the large and varied assortment of youthful works and experiments, Puppets holds a singular and significant place”. Composed in three sets between 1912 and 1924 (but published in reverse sequence; they are played here in chronological order), Puppets sounds anything but experimental now, though for Martinu’s hometown of Policka just after the Great War, the somewhat Satiesque charms of these 14 pieces must have seemed highly modern.

Heard with the innocent ear, most listeners would be hard put to identify the composer of Puppets and I suspect the same applies for another of the novelties here, the pretty, if flimsy, children’s suite Spring in the Garden (1920). This is no match for what Mark Gresham calls “the bold, jazzy and propulsive” Film en miniature (1925), one of the first products of Martinu’s Paris sojourn. The pearl of Koukl’s programme, though, is Butterflies and Birds of Paradise, written at Christmas of the same year as Spring in the Garden but light years ahead of it in quality. Here Martinu uses impressionism as if born to it.

Still, none of these early pieces, nor even The Fifth Day of the Fifth Moon (1948, dedicated to Tcherepnin’s wife and the only work otherwise available) really sound like the mature Martinu. Only in the 29th and final track, The Booksellers of the Quai Malaquais (1948; dedicated to the composer’s wife) do we encounter one of those heart-stopping themes familiar from the symphonies. Koukl’s performances, occasionally a little over-robust, as in Butterflies, are very warmly recorded but this is a splendid disc despite that. Recommended.

-- Guy Rickards, Gramophone [5/2007]

Emil Gilels Legacy, Vol. 3: 1975 Helsinki Recital (Live)

Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco considered the 1924 Concerto Italiano to be his first truly symphonic venture. This tuneful, fresh and transparently scored concerto here receives its world première recording. It was admired by the great violinist Jascha Heifetz, for whom the composer wrote his Concerto No. 2 ‘I Profeti’ (The Prophets), an impassioned work ‘of biblical character and inspiration’ with an almost cinematic sweep. The recipient of the coveted Echo Klassik award for her album of Mendelssohn’s two Violin Concertos [8.572662], Tianwa Yang is widely recognized as one of the outstanding rising stars on the world classical music scene.

REVIEWS:

This recording of Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s early (1924) Concerto Italiano purports to be a world premiere, and while you can never really tell these days, this is certainly the first time that I have seen the work on disc. It’s very enjoyable, and very Italian–in a good way. The thematic material has character, even in the long opening Allegro moderato e maestoso, while the central Arioso sets the seal on the music’s Italianate lyricism. Yang plays the work very confidently; she has no technical limitations at all, and she captures the warmth of those romantic tunes with unfailing aplomb. Certainly she deserves credit for learning a big, unfamiliar piece that she’ll probably never be asked to play in concert.

The Concerto Italiano also makes ideal sense as the coupling to the slightly better known Violin Concerto No. 2 “I Profeti” (“The Prophets”). Composed in 1931, it was taken up by Heifetz, no less, who made a stunning recording that has popped up in various incarnations (coupled to the Walton Concerto on Naxos Historical). The modern reference version has been Perlman’s hard to find outing with Mehta and the Israel Philharmonic on EMI, in tandem with Ben-Haim’s Violin Concerto. The piece is interesting in that it really does sound like a (good) soundtrack to a Hollywood bible epic, although it predates both the genre and the composer’s American period by more than half a decade. If you like, say, Respighi’s exotic tone poems or Bloch’s Schelomo, then you’ll enjoy this well-wrought and colorful work similarly.

Again, Tianwa Yang plays with unflagging gusto and, in music that can turn kitschy, taste. Now is usually the time we get to say something condescending, like “She’s no Heifetz, or Perlman,” but the truth is that she doesn’t suffer at all from the comparison. She’s an excellent artist, one whose musicality and passion speak for themselves, and she can hold her own against anyone. The only caveat stems from the proficient but somewhat too polite accompaniments provided by the SWR ensemble under Pieter-Jelle de Boer, as well as the less than glittering sonics. Not bad, mind you, and probably as good as we have right to expect for such rare repertoire, but it could have been better still. If you don’t know this music, you should hear this.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

The Concerto Italiano is not the breezy, pseudo-Victorian piece that its title might suggest; indeed, it is rather a melancholic work. I profeti is a rather more lively and colorful work, its glittering, singing lines certainly bring a resonant response both from soloist Tianwa Yang and the SWR Symphony Orchestra.

-- Gramophone

For those of us who have learnt to play the piano over the last half century the name of Alec Rowley will be extremely familiar. Even today when I visit the secondhand music shops in Kelvinside and Fishergate in Glasgow and York, I am amazed at the number of volumes of this composer that are always available. I have managed to build a small collection of his easier pieces. I doubt that there is much in print these days, but historically there are reams of miniatures and teaching pieces available to the interested explorer and collector. I did not realise until quite recently that Mr Rowley did have a serious side to him - that is until I inherited an album of organ works. None of these are for neophytes and all of them seem to be interesting examples of the ’tween-the-wars genre. However I will always remember him for two salon pieces – Witchery and Hornpipe – both for piano. I still play these at least once a month!

I have long known about the Concerto in D major and have plonked my way through the score. However, until this present release I had never heard it. And what a pleasure it is. I will state my case – I love the work – it is a fine discovery and deserves its place in the repertoire.

The work received its premiere in a BBC broadcast way back in 1938. The work is scored for soloist and strings; however there are optional parts for timpani and percussion. This is the version recorded here. From the very first note we are in the presence of a delightful work. Forget anyone who says that it relies heavily on Delius or Britten or Cyril Scott. This is an original concerto that is well scored and has ‘a breezy, open-air freshness about it’ that is both charming and satisfying. The work is well constructed, with the opening of the last movement mirroring the introduction to the first. My only criticism is that this concerto is too short! But Naxos and Mr Donohoe please note, there is another Piano Concerto and Three Idylls for Piano and Orchestra just begging to be recorded!

Christian Darnton is an unknown quantity to me and I imagine for many other listeners as well. However the Piano Concerto in C Major is a fine example of the genre. It was composed in 1948 for the South African pianist Adolf Hallis. In fact the work was premiered in Durban the following year.

It is quite a short work and this is perhaps its one fault. There seems to be a little bit of a stylistic imbalance between quite ‘elegant’ and sometimes even ‘dreamy’ music and the harder edged neo-classicism of Stravinsky. For example the first movement vacillates between these two contrasting styles and the disparity is too great for good balance. That being said there is much that is attractive about this work. Once again the contrasts in the middle movement are quite extreme. There is a whiff of Britten about the outer sections whilst the middle section nods to the Warsaw Concerto in its ‘heart on sleeve’ romanticism.

The finale is a good example of neo-classical fun. There are moments when Malcolm Arnold seems about to break through. However the entire movement is well wrought and is quite exciting.

I reiterate my comment that this work is far too short. There is a wealth of interesting material that could have been developed into a major work.

However, I do hope that Naxos will issue some more music by this obviously talented composer, for example any one of the four symphonies.

The Roberto Gerhard Concerto for Piano and Strings is the antithesis of the Darnton. It is slightly later, having been composed in 1951 (the CD cover states 1961 as the date of composition) for the Aldeburgh Festival. It is the first of Gerhard’s works to be written using serial techniques. Yet continuity with the past is introduced as the composer gives a renaissance musical title to each movement. The first being Tiento which is Spanish for ‘toccata,’ the second is Diferencias which is loosely translated as ‘variations’ and the last movement is inscribed Folias which means ‘fantasy.’

Gerhard uses the serial technique with subtlety. We are never conscious that the work is being controlled by a pre-defined sequence of notes. However its unity is never in doubt. This is an extremely well-balanced and nuanced piece that is totally consistent with itself from the very first note to the last. Harmonically there is none of the astringency of Webern and his followers; in fact it is difficult to pin the concerto down to a style or period. This is quite definitely a work that is infused with the moods of Spain. However do not look for Spanish Dances – the ethos is derived from darker aspects of Iberian culture.

There are two things to say about Howard Ferguson. Firstly, he wrote too little! It is always a great disappointment to me that Ferguson gave up composing in the early 1950s; he reckoned that he had said all he wanted to say! Of course the listener’s loss is the student and performer’s gain as most of the rest of his life was spent in editing early music and teaching material. The second thing is that every piece that Ferguson wrote is near perfect and commands our attention. There is nothing that does not deserve to be permanently in the repertoire.

The Piano Concerto is a case in point. I have no doubt that if this work was by a Polish or German composer it would be in the public domain. As it stands I imagine that it is well known to a handful of British music enthusiasts. Yet what a great and wonderful work it is. It is not really necessary to try making comparisons. I do not agree with Andrew Burn’s notes that it nods to Mozart. What we have is a beautifully composed piece that throws introspection and an extrovert, almost ‘puckish’ feel into contrast, yet manages to give a satisfying sense of completeness. Of course the heart of the work is the reflective ‘Theme and Variations’ – this movement is quite bitter-sweet and stays in the mind long after the last note plays. The last movement, an Allegro giovale, is a tour de force. However there are some quieter, more introverted moments and there is a reprise of the slow movement ‘tune’ towards the end. But this is positive, uplifting music that is a joy and pleasure and a privilege to listen to.

The sound quality is great. The playing is second to none. The programme notes could have been a bit more fulsome. The programme itself is well thought out and repays repeated hearings. All credit must go to Peter Donohoe and his British Piano Concerto Foundation.

Now a personal plea. Mr Donohoe, if you read this please can you consider one or two or more of the following for your next batch of releases in this great series – the piano concertos by William Baines, York Bowen, Rosalind Ellicott and Walford Davies. But whatever you choose please keep them coming and concentrate on those works that are not otherwise available!

-- John France, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

The importance of this set cannot be overstated. First released on seven separate albums by Olympia, it launched the international reputation of Anthony Goldstone and Caroline Clemmow as one of the world’s foremost duos, and it remains the only complete recording of Schubert’s original duet compositions including many little-known masterpieces and one Polonaise completed by Goldstone from Schubert’s unfinished manuscript. Each album concludes with a Polonaise encore written by Schumann, inspired by Schubert. The set represents the whole stretch of Schubert’s output from D. 1 to D. 968. The performances are superb, exhilarating and perfectly integrated: the husband and wife team really do play like one person with four hands. Tragically, Anthony Goldstone died on January 2, 2017 while the design work of this set was being finalized, and did not live to see the reissue of this marvelous collection, repackaged and remastered as a complete set.

Arnold Mendelssohn's compositional oeuvre essentially encompasses all the major musical genres. He wrote three symphonies, a violin concerto, a cello concerto, numerous chamber pieces, three operas, a variety of sacred and secular cantatas and oratorios, around 170 songs and piano and organ music. This release features the world premier recording of the complete solo piano works of Arnold Mendelssohn. The pianist Elzbieta Sternlicht began her studies at the State Music Academy in Warsaw with Zbigniew Drzewiecki, and continued them in Paris with Vlado Perlemuter and Suzanne Roche. She has given concerts, master courses, workshops and radio broadcast performances throughout western and eastern Europe as well as in North and South America and Asia. She has released several critically-acclaimed albums, including world premiere recordings of the complete solo piano works of Josef Koffler.

Classical Music

Rising pianist Ekaterina Litvintseva writes of this release in which she performs Brahms' Piano Concerto No. 1 in D minor Op. 15: "From a technical and musical perspective, it is one of the hardest concertos ever written! What clearly distinguishes it from other concertos is it's symbiosis of orchestra and pianist. What I mean is that the orchestra and pianist are very closely interlinked so as to give the concerto a thoroughly symphonic complexion. It is known that Brahms originally conceived the work as a symphony. It stands to reason, therefore, that this work should sound symphonic. The task set before the pianist when tackling this work is a very tall order, namely the challenge of playing a 50-minute concerto and, throughout every minute, immersing oneself in the music without losing sight of the overall picture. A useful analogy might be to imagine a mountainous landscape and, whilst enjoying the harmony and unity of the mountains, also to observe their slightest elevations and hollows. I believe that nature abounds in this work, as if I were to breathe in the fresh mountain air, feel it's vigor and visualize scenic colors. I have put so much time and energy into this concerto. By giving so many concerts, I was able to thoroughly immerse myself in the music and experiment with it 13 times. So I think I'm justified in saying that it has become my concerto."

"At his best, Rheinberger offers a surprising and often telling synthesis of Baroque counterpoint with a gently Romantic sensibility. One could say the same of Anton Bruckner, but, unlike Bruckner, there is no compelling forward thrust in this music—nothing heaven storming, or, unlike Beethoven, nothing that pushes the technical or aesthetic envelope. Rheinberger was content to use the musical language he inherited from his teachers, the organist Johann Georg Herzog and the composer Ferdinand Lachner, who was one of Schubert’s devotees. Joseph Gabriel Rheinberger (1839–1901) was born in Vaduz, the capital of Liechtenstein. A child prodigy organist, he was appointed, at age seven, to the post of town organist. Subsequent training in organ and composition took him to Munich and, ultimately, to Vienna where he lived out his days as a composer of 197 works—including symphonies, tone poems, chamber works, piano pieces, masses, requiems, and two operas—and as a teacher at the Vienna Conservatory. Among his pupils can be counted Engelbert Humperdinck, Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari, and Horatio Parker. The Lachner connection is intriguing, in that Rheinberger’s life span effectively brought the world of Schubert into the first year of the 20th century. Seen in a different light, Rheinberger was a hopeless anachronism. Listening to this music, I wonder how he must have reacted to the “music of the future,” as exemplified in Wagner’s tonally ambivalent Tristan.

There is a good deal of Biedermeier charm in these two works, but that is only one of its constituent elements. At its core, it is made of sterner stuff. The Six Pieces for Violin and Organ, op. 150, masquerades as a Baroque suite. Its opening movement is a stylized French overture, which provides one of the piece’s finest moments, in Rheinberger’s aforementioned synthesis of Baroque and Romantic languages. Unlike how they would have been handled by the great Baroque masters, the following movements—Pastorale, Gigue, Elegie, Abendlied, and Theme and Variations—the liner notes claim, “do not have any real interconnection, either thematically or with regard to key.” The implication is that we have a handful of pretty genre pieces and not much more. I respectfully disagree. There are subtle thematic and harmonic links throughout these pieces, and some of them—the Pastorale and especially the Elegy—are achingly beautiful in their inconsolable melancholy. The second work, Suite for Violin and Organ, op. 166, is more closely reasoned. Its opening Preludium evokes the world of Bach. The following Canzone takes us into the worlds of Schubert and Brahms, although there is also a Brucknerian quality in its austerity and in its ability to make time stand still, qualities that also characterize the following Allemande with its Brahmsian trio section. The final Moto perpetuo is based on the same harmonic progression that underpins the whole suite, and it puts the violinist to the test—one that she passes with flying colors.

Violinist Line Most’s intonation is impeccable, and her tone production is ravishing. Organist Marie Ziener, playing the fine organ of David’s Church, Copenhagen (Marcussen & Son, 1980) is with her hand-in-glove. The recorded balances in this tricky repertoire are beyond reproach."

William Zagorski, FANFARE

Some of Robert Schumann’s rarest piano music can be heard in this disc, which ranges from his precocious Titania Overture arrangement to the Ghost Variations, the theme of which, he told his wife Clara, had been sung to him by angels. His Beethoven Studies survive in three sources, whilst his admiration for his contemporaries Schubert and Chopin is shown by two works containing a series of variations. The 1836 Third Sonata is included in the pre-1853 revision and also included is the original version of what became his very popular Toccata, Op. 7.

Classical Music

Fibich’s colorful symphonic poems have not been neglected on disc, but most of the recordings made to date come from Supraphon and seem to pop in and out of print at random, making them difficult to find. So it’s good to have this ongoing series, especially as it’s very well played and recorded, and Marek Štilec offers compelling interpretations of all five pieces. The music is fun. Fibich was not the melodist that Dvorák was (consider the two Othellos), but he knew how to score for large orchestra, and although the idiom is conservative, it never sounds inhibited. He whips up a fine storm at the start of The Tempest, for example, and Štilec digs in with gusto.

The largest work here, one that will be unfamiliar even to experienced listeners, is Záboj, Slavoj and Ludek. The story comes from a medieval Czech source of some kind, and I frankly have no idea what it’s about. Neither does the booklet note writer, evidently, other than to say that Smetana was inspired by the same source to compose Ma Vlást. Never mind. The music obviously has something to do with militant nationalism, and it’s typically well sustained and confidently structured. You’ll enjoy getting to know it, as you will all five of these works.

If you’re curious, try comparing this setting of Toman and the Wood Nymph to Novák’s very different, more modern setting–or even Sibelius’ tone poem of the same title. Evidently the wood nymph really got around. This is turning out to be an excellent series, and a convenient way to fill out your collection of Czech romantic orchestral music.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Beck' symphonies have long been regarded as among the most striking works of their kind from the mid-18th century. Remarkable for their dramatic flair, rich harmonic language and fluid, inventive part writing, Beck' Op. 3 Symphonies display a rare le.

Domenico Cimarosa’s abilities as an operatic composer are evident in his large-scale Requiem in which the soloists and chorus range from the mournful supplication of the opening movements, through vivid evocations of the ‘day of wrath’ and the praises uttered by the heavenly hosts in the Sanctus, to the prayers for mercy, peace and eternal light which conclude the work. Composed to commemorate the death in 1787 of the wife of the French ambassador in St Petersburg, its overall character is one of classical restraint.

Classical Music

Whenever the words “among the most frequently performed” are used in a description of a contemporary choral composer, we usually can expect (if the claim is true) that the music is not only singable by good choral singers (not just professionals) but is also enjoyable to sing–and that it’s readily listenable by most anyone who loves choral music–certainly tonal (usually free of confounding quirks and troublesome crags), with attractive melodies. Even better is if the texts are interesting (unusual, even), enhanced by clever and competently realized music. And, for those who aren’t familiar with Kim André Arnesen–“one of Norway’s most frequently performed contemporary composers”–that’s pretty much what you get on this program of 12 works, several of them receiving their recording premieres.

None of this says anything about how “good” the music is; in fact, some listeners will likely find these pieces not challenging enough–a little too easy to listen to, a little too similar in style and mood. But I wouldn’t go that far. Arnesen builds his music on rich, lush harmonic structures–so yes, there are lots of chords, beautiful, flowing, often the foundation for melody (Flight Song), but sometimes the vibrant, resonating clusters of tones make their own powerful effect without need for a real tune–for example in O Sacrum Convivium, which will remind some listeners of the style of Morten Lauridsen.

Versions of the text in the opening work, lines discovered on a Nazi concentration camp wall (it begins, “I believe in the sun even when it’s not shining…”) have been set by many composers, and Arnesen’s proves as poignant as any, particularly as it focuses so pointedly on the few words–three short lines–capturing in varied musical repetitions the deeply felt, personal, truthful sentiment expressed by that anonymous author in that awful, desperate time and place. Arnesen’s melodic facility appears perhaps most strongly in his Flight Song, which he wrote for Anton Armstrong’s 25th year as St. Olaf Choir conductor–a lovely melody you might have heard someplace before, but not quite. Throughout the program you notice how Arnesen often manages to create engaging pieces of five, six, or seven minutes seemingly without a whole lot of material–again, somewhat in the mold of Lauridsen, but less prone to direct repetition, so the music is more open, more expansive–and we’re just carried along by the dynamic flow of harmony and the beauty of these voices. What finer advocates for his music could a composer have than these excellent singers of Kantorei?

And as for the music itself, I’ve said before: any competent composer can write really difficult music intended only for professional singers (not that there’s anything wrong with that); but it takes a special kind of composer–such as Arnesen–who understands the nature and complexities of choral composition and knows the nature and complexities of singers and singing–and is able to create music of high quality and sophistication that’s both satisfying and accessible to a vast community of accomplished yet non-professional musicians and legions of serious listeners, most of whom appreciate an occasional challenge but who also crave the pure pleasure of musical experience where voices simply soar and harmonies shimmer and there are no grimaces or gritted teeth or ruffled ears anywhere to be found. Yes, there are one or two pieces here that push the schmaltz level slightly past my limit–but even so, that’s a small price to pay for the hour of “pure pleasure” on the rest of the program.

– David Vernier (ClassicsToday)

Includes sonata(s) for keyboard by Antonio Soler. Soloist: Gilbert Rowland.