• The Brodsky Quartet present the first of two discs featuring Brahms’s complete string quartets. The String Quartet Op. 51 No. 2 is warm, affirmative and relaxed, with few extremes of mood or tempo. The Clarinet Quintet, op. 115 explores an atmosphere of elegy and nostalgia, producing a mood of autumnal resignation. Having often performed this work in concert, the renowned Brodsky Quartet and clarintetist Michael Collins come together once again for this recording.

The Brodsky Quartet, continuing to pioneer unique repertoire on Chandos Records, presents a programme of works from the ‘New World’ that explores an American sound in the string quartet. The earliest piece on the disc is the American String Quartet, in F major by Antonín Dvorák, the only non-American composer in the release. His attempt to capture an American sound results in music of notable simplicity, directness, and good humour. In the String Quartet by Samuel Barber we hear an unashamedly romantic composer displaying a more European style. The central Adagio has become enormously popular in an arrangement for string orchestra. Far more distinctively American in idiom is the music of George Gershwin whose Lullaby was his first attempt at classical composition. Copland’s Two Pieces, a work written as a tribute to Gabriel Fauré, is featured along with an original arrangement by members of the Brodsky Quartet of his Hoe–Down. This famous work is enormously evocative of rural America and is heavily indebted to traditional tunes from Celtic settlers. Dave Brubeck is best known as a jazz pianist but he employs his classical training in Regret, which evokes the soundworld and emotional depth of the high baroque style while creating a unique link between the worlds of classical and jazz. - Chandos

Not much is known about the English composer John Sheppard. When he was born, and where he grew up, is lost to history but most scholars place his birth at somewhere between 1515 and 1520. This places him in one of the most turbulent periods in English church history, something that can be heard on this disc in the wide stylistic range he used in order to adapt to the quickly changing politics of the day. The sophisticated six part texture of Gaude, gaude, gaude Maria suggests the influence of Queen Mary who encouraged elaborate sacred composition. It is one of Sheppard’s most thrilling and ambitious works. On the other hand, Christ rising again reflects Thomas Cranmer’s insistence on musical simplicity but demonstrates the genius with which Sheppard explores the limits of expressive power with only the most restricted means. The works are performed by the Choir of St John’s College, Cambridge under the directorship of Andrew Nethsingha. One of the finest men and boys choirs in the world, it is known and loved by millions from its recordings, broadcasts, and concert tours. The choir has been a cornerstone of the great English choral tradition since the 1670s and is recognized for its distinctive, rich, and expressive sound.

Review:

This is a very nice disc: beautifully sung; a well-balanced recording in both stereo and a warmly inclusive surround sound, and with a rich selection of John Sheppard’s superb music. What on earth could there be to complain about?

Styles of choral singing differ, and long may this remain. The comparisons I’ve tended to admire most in this music have been of the purer, reduced-vibrato angelic type. This is all a matter of taste, and I can easily become used to the St John’s College sound in these works, though with plenty of vibrato in the singing the word ‘fruity’ constantly springs to mind. I’m not anti-vibrato as such, but these works have such a refinement of counterpoint and polyphony that I find it hard to come to terms with a technical approach which clouds such marvels.

All that said, this is a very fine program, and if you like the general choral sound then there are good musical experiences to be had. Simpler works such as the four-part In pace, in idipsum dormiam create nice moods, but there was no point in this album that my world stopped turning and I was left speechless with the wonder of it all - and I know this can all too easily happen to me with John Sheppard’s music.

– MusicWeb International (Dominy Clements)

The Beauty Stone is a neglected gem among the works of Arthur Sullivan, better known for his famous collaboration with W.S Gilbert. In this premiere commercial recording, featuring some of the finest singers on the stage today, all original music has been restored. This release follows Chandos’ highly regarded recording of Ivanhoe.

This disc features works by three composers – Vincent d’Indy, Ernst Krenek, and Erwin Schulhoff – who in the mid- to late-1920s adopted neoclassicism and wrote works in the neo-baroque concerto grosso style. Sir Neville Marriner conducts the Academy of St Martin in the Fields, one of the most recorded chamber orchestras in the world.

The exclusive Chandos artist and award-winning pianist, Louis Lortie continues his critically acclaimed exploration of piano works by Liszt, turning to opera transcriptions, paraphrases and fantasies that with their technical innovation revolutionized composition for the piano.

In Réminiscences de ‘Don Juan’, based on three scenes from Mozart’s Don Giovanni, Liszt creates a work renowned for its extreme technical difficulty. He dazzled audiences in his own time with performances of it, and it has remained notorious ever since, Ferruccio Busoni claiming that ‘this piece among pianists has acquired the almost symbolic significance of a pianistic summit’.

The Paraphrase de concert on Rigoletto is one of three Verdi paraphrases only published in 1960, each of which concentrates on one particular moment of its respective Verdi opera, presenting it in highly pianistic terms whilst maintaining the general lines of the original. In the Rigoletto paraphrase Liszt focuses on the aria ‘Bella figlia dell’amore’.

In the Valse de l’opéra ‘Faust’ de Gounod Liszt cleverly combines the waltz from Act I of the opera with a melodious love duet from Act II. After these materials have been transformed and Liszt has added his own musical tangents, the piece accelerates into a vertiginous whirl, reminiscent of Ravel’s much later La Valse, and finally the main theme reappears with majestic swagger and grandeur.

Completing the album are several more or less straightforward transcriptions based on operas by Richard Wagner who, despite a rocky start to their relationship, forged a close musical bond with Liszt. Among these transcriptions is the popular ‘Liebestod’ from Tristan und Isolde. Liszt never completed a transcription of its natural musical companion, the Prelude to the same opera, so here Louis Lortie has recorded his own arrangement of that piece.

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"Liszt’s transcriptions of, and fantasias on, excerpts from operas like 'Rigoletto' and 'Faust' – not to mention the works of his future son-in-law, Richard Wagner – are some of the most dazzling and complex piano works of the 19th century. Louis Lortie, a fantastic Lisztian, performs them with confidence and clarity. And his new version of the prelude to Wagner’s 'Tristan und Isolde,' a companion to Liszt’s transcription of the 'Liebestod,' stands comparison with the master." – The New York Times

TCHAIKOVSKY Swan Lake • Neeme Järvi, cond; James Ehnes (vn); Bergen PO • CHANDOS 5124(2) (2 SACDs: 154:41)

As has been noted in previous reviews of recordings of Tchaikovsky’s “complete” Swan Lake , there may well be as many different versions of the score as there have been productions of it. The problem is that Swan Lake is both the earliest (1875–1876) and the longest of the composer’s three great ballets, and it has had so many cooks adding their own ingredients, removing others, and generally revising the recipe that no one can say for sure what made up the original soufflé.

The generally known and accepted facts are these: The ballet, with original choreography by Julius Reisinger, was staged for the first time in February, 1877 by the Bolshoi Ballet at Moscow’s Bolshoi Theater. It was not well received; audience and critics alike felt it was too long and convoluted, its music too heavy, and its libretto, adapted from a story by a German author, an affront to Russian sensibilities. And thus began the tinkering and tampering. By the time the work was revived in 1895 by the Imperial Ballet at St. Petersburg’s Mariinsky Theater there was new choreography by Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov, along with major musical revisions to the score by the Imperial Theater’s conductor and composer, Riccardo Drigo. It should be noted that by the time of the 1895 revival, Tchaikovsky was dead and had no hand in the new performing version. Tchaikovsky and Drigo had worked together previously, but according to accounts, they didn’t agree on much of anything and their relationship was strained.

The upshot of all this is that there is no definitive Swan Lake . It was no longer a ballet by one composer, but rather a group effort; and you know the saying about a camel being a horse designed by a committee. It’s important to bear this in mind when considering the various recordings of Swan Lake that claim to be complete, for the drastic differences in timings cannot be explained by mere tempo differences alone. There have to be other factors involved, such as omission of some movements, cuts to others, and/or reliance on differing versions/editions. Let’s look at the timings of several well-known recordings, sorted in order by duration.

Conductor	Orchestra	Label	Timing
Valery Gergiev	St. Petersburg Mariinsky O	Decca	106.59
Antál Dorati	Minneapolis SO	Mercury	131:41
Felix Slatkin	St. Louis SO	RCA	141:00
Mikhail Pletnev	Russian National O	Ondine	142.52
Dmitri Yablonsky	Russian State SO	Naxos	148:38
Michael Tilson Thomas	London SO	Sony	149:05
Mark Ermler	Royal Opera House O	Conifer	153.03
André Previn	London SO	EMI	153:02
Charles Dutoit	Montréal SO	Decca	153:56
Neeme Järvi	Bergen PO	Chandos	154:41
Wolfgang Sawallisch	Philadelphia O	EMI	158:45

Right off the bat, I need to offer a disclaimer: My personal familiarity with the above-listed recordings is limited to only four of them—Gergiev, Pletnev, Yablonsky, and now this new one by Järvi. Of the four, Gergiev’s version is the worst in terms of the hatchet job it does on the score. Movements are reordered—for example, the act I Waltz has been moved to act III and its ending abridged—and it’s full of egregious cuts—some 40 minutes of music are sacrificed. Gergiev’s Swan Lake is presumptively based on the Mariinsky performing version; i.e., the above-mentioned Drigo edition prepared for the 1895 St. Petersburg revival.

Looking at Pletnev’s timing of 142:52 vs. Yablonsky’s 148:58 and Järvi’s 154:41, it seems pretty obvious that that while tempo differences over the course of two and a half hours could account for the difference of approximately six minutes between Pletnev and Yablonsky and, in turn, between Yablonsky and Järvi, they’re unlikely to be the cause of the approximately 12-minute difference between Pletnev and Järvi.

Upon closer examination of all three recordings, what I found was that Yablonsky and Järvi both include two often dropped numbers from act III, the Pas de deux that was written after the fact specifically for Anna Sobeshchanskaya, and the “Danse Russe,” added specifically for Pelageya Karpakova. Pletnev omits these two additions, as do a number of others. Whether they should be included or not is a rather complex question.

Ballerinas of the day were not much different from their opera diva counterparts in terms of their egos. They had no shame when it came to demanding custom cadenzas to show off their voices or, in the case of danseuses, their fancy footwork and frilly tutus. The story surrounding Sobeshchanskaya and her Pas de deux is especially messy and borders on scandal. Originally picked to dance the lead role of Odette (the Swan) for the 1877 premiere, Sobeshchanskaya was ignominiously dropped from the cast at the last minute when a high-placed government official with whom she’d had a dalliance accused her of having taken expensive jewelry from him and then pawned it when she married a fellow danseur. On the spur of the moment, she was replaced by Pelageya Karpakova. Sobeshchanskaya survived the indignity and went on to dance the title role when the ballet was staged again a month later with no greater success than at its premiere.

But the intrigue didn’t end there. The ballerina made no bones about the fact that she hated both the choreography and the music, and so off she went to St. Petersburg, where she engaged Petipa to choreograph a new Pas de deux for her that would replace the third act’s Grand pas. Petipa complied and choreographed the new number to music, not by Tchaikovsky, but by Ludwig Minkus, the Imperial Ballet’s composer in residence.

When news of this change reached Tchaikovsky, he was miffed; his ego was probably bigger than Sobeshchanskaya’s. How dare she?! He was the composer, and he alone should take credit (or discredit) for the music. After some smoothing of his ruffled feathers, Tchaikovsky agreed to compose the music himself for Petipa’s new Pas de deux , but there was a problem. Tchaikovsky’s new music didn’t synch up with Petipa’s choreography, and Sobeshchanskaya, now back in Moscow, wasn’t about to travel back to St. Petersburg to go through the whole exercise again. She didn’t seem to care much one way or the other about the music, but she was adamant about keeping Petipa’s choreographed number. How exactly Tchaikovsky was prevailed upon to discard his newly composed music and essentially start over, this time following the outlines and rhythmic steps of Minkus’s music is not explained, but that’s what Tchaikovsky did. So, this particular episode apparently had a satisfactory ending for all involved, except, I suspect, for Minkus who surely must have felt put out. The original Grand pas with music by Tchaikovsky was replaced by Sobeshchanskaya’s Pas de deux with music first by Minkus and then by Tchaikovsky.

Based on the foregoing, it would seem that there is every reason to include this number in complete performances of the ballet, yet many conductors, Pletnev among them, don’t. The situation regarding the “Danse Russe” (Russian Dance) is much simpler and appears to be the reverse; it’s one of deletion rather than addition. It was composed for and included in the original 1877 version of the score danced by Karpakova, the premiere’s last-minute substitute for Sobeshchanskaya. The number was then removed for subsequent performances in which Sobeshchanskaya took over the role, for reasons one can easily guess. If two competing sopranos could bitch-slap each other on stage during a production of a Handel opera, there was no telling what professional jealousy might provoke between two rival ballerinas.

This describes only some of the butchery that turned Tchaikovsky’s finely feathered swan into a plucked chicken. It’s well to remember, however, that Swan Lake was not only the composer’s first completed ballet, it was really his first major stage undertaking to survive the ravages of time, even if not entirely intact. He was working on his opera Eugene Onegin at the same time, his first opera to achieve success; and though there had been earlier operatic efforts— The Voyevoda, Undina, The Oprichnik , and Vakula the Smith —they were either destroyed by the composer, recycled, later revised, or didn’t stir much interest at the time. Thus, at 37, Tchaikovsky’s greatest works still lay ahead of him, and he had yet to achieve the self-confidence that fame would bring him to be able to just say no to those who would mess with his music.

Neeme Järvi’s Swan Lake follows his Sleeping Beauty , reviewed in 36:5. I would expect to see a Nutcracker in the near future, perhaps timed to coincide with Christmas (I’m writing this in November 2013). My only objection to Järvi’s Sleeping Beauty was his somewhat business-like approach, which struck me as missing some of the music’s fairy magic. But the Bergen Philharmonic’s polished playing, James Ehnes’s ravishing violin solos, and Chandos’s thrilling multi-channel SACD recording offered much allure.

On relistening to that release, and in listening to this present one, in which Järvi, Ehnes, the Bergen orchestra, and Chandos repeat their earlier accomplishment, it occurred to me that my criticism of Järvi wasn’t entirely fair. There are two ways to conduct a ballet performance for a strictly audio recording. You can approach it as a concert work, in which case you will tend to emphasize the melodic, harmonic, and structural elements of the score, or you can approach it as a suite of dances, in which case you will emphasize the music’s rhythmic and terpsichorean aspects. Järvi falls into the former camp, and there’s nothing wrong in that, as long as he’s not directing a live production of the actual ballet, in which tempo, pacing, and phrasing need to be molded more flexibly to accommodate the movements of the dancers.

I can’t say absolutely that this is the most authoritatively complete Swan Lake on record, though in taking up the original 1877 score and including additional material supplied by Tchaikovsky himself for subsequent performances, Järvi gives us a version that’s certainly more complete than are a number of others. What I can say is that of the four recordings of the score with which I’m familiar, Järvi’s would now be my first choice, and taking all other factors into account—superb playing by the Bergen Philharmonic, James Ehnes’s beguiling solo violin contributions, and a killer recording—I’d extrapolate from this that Järvi’s Swan Lake is now the one to have.

FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Paul Watkins, an exclusive Chandos artist, returns to his series of British works for cello and piano, playing sonatas by York Bowen, John Ireland and Sir Arnold Bax. He is accompanied by his brother, Huw Watkins. International Record Review wrote of volume one, “This is a marvelous release: for the intriguing music, the superb performances and the first-class sound.”

On this disc internationally acclaimed bass Sir John Tomlinson and pianist David Owen Norris bring together settings of Michelangelo poems by Britten, Wolf and Shostakovich. This unique program is frequently played by the duo in theatrical Michelangelo-themed performances and can now be heard on CD for the first time.

This re-release of the Spring Symphony, complemented by two smaller but equally life-confirming works by Britten, marks the composer’s centenary year. It also forms part of Chandos’ Richard Hickox Legacy series. Hickox conducts the London Symphony Orchestra with the soloists Elizabeth Gale, Alfreda Hodgson, and Martyn Hill and a number of UK choirs.

This re-release features Gerald Finzi's Requiem da camera, Britten's Deus in adjutorium meum, Chorale on an Old French Carol and Cantata misericordium, and Holst's Psalm 86 and Psalm 148. All are performed by Richard Hickox and the City of London Sinfonia with the Britten Singers and various soloists. Available at a special price on the Classic Chandos label.

This disc forms part of Chandos’ ongoing Richard Hickox legacy series. The re-release features Rossini's Stabat Mater, performed by Richard Hickox and the City of London Sinfonia. They are joined by the London Symphony Orchestra Chorus and four excellent soloists: Helen Field, Della Jones, Arthur Davies and Roderick Earle.

In this re-release Richard Hickox conducts works for strings by Herbert Howells. Performed by the orchestra he founded in 1971, City of London Sinfonia, the music represents just a small part of the often neglected British repertoire to which Hickox showed such extraordinary dedication.

This disc forms part of our ongoing Richard Hickox legacy series. Featured on this two-disc set are Elgar's the Dream of Gerontius, and two works by Parry: Blest Pair of Sirens and I was glad.

Tying in with the centenary of Britten’s birth this year, this three-disc compilation set brings together a large selection of early and late unaccompanied choral works, performed by the Finzi Singers and Paul Spicer. This disc includes A Boy was Born, Rejoice in the Lamb, and Choral Dances from Gloriana.

BEN-HAIM Piano Quartet in c, op. 4 1. Two Landscapes for Viola and Piano, op. 27 2. Five Pieces for Piano: Canzonetta (No. 4), op. 34 3. Improvisation and Dance for Violin and Piano, op. 30 4. Clarinet Quintet, op. 31a 5 • 1 Benjamin Bowman (vn); 1,2,5 Steven Dann (va); 1,5 Bryan Epperson (vc); 1 David Louie (pn); 2-4 Dianne Werner (pn); 4,5 Erika Raum (vn); 5 Joaquin Valdepeñas (cl); 5 Marie Bérard (vn) • CHANDOS 10769 (77:05)

Here is a long overdue collection of chamber works by Israeli composer Paul Ben-Haim (1897–1984). Only the C-Minor Piano Quartet on this disc is noted as a premiere recording, but to the extent that recordings of any of the other pieces heard here exist, they’re few and far between. Among the five works on the disc, only the Improvisation and Dance shows up in the Fanfare Archive, in a 30:6 review of a Hyperion CD containing several violin and piano works by Ben-Haim, performed by Hagai Shaham and Amon Erez. Otherwise I’m not finding any other current listings for the pieces on this disc. Perhaps I just didn’t look hard enough.

Ben-Haim’s bio, briefly, is as follows: He was born Paul Frankenburger in Munich, studied composition under Friedrich Klose (a former Bruckner student), and served as assistant conductor to Hans Knappertsbusch and Bruno Walter. In 1933, Ben-Haim emigrated to the British Mandate of Palestine, settled in Tel Aviv, Hebraized his name (which means “son of life,” not “to life,” as it’s sometimes incorrectly translated), and became an Israeli citizen in 1948 when the country declared its independence.

The Piano Quartet, composed in 1921 by the young Frankenburger while still in Munich, is easily described. It’s the next piano quartet Brahms would have written had he lived another 24 years. Everything about the piece—the gestural language, the melodic material, the thematic development, and the piano patterns and figurations—evokes the spirit of Brahms, except for one thing. The harmonic context, with its somewhat more liberal application of dissonance, parallelism, and freer approach to progression, suggests that Ben-Haim had received some exposure to Fauré, Debussy, Ravel, and, according to the note, Richard Strauss and Max Reger. Nonetheless, for all its youthful susceptibility to the musical influences that would have been part of Frankenburger’s German world, his Piano Quartet is a masterful and powerful work, at times turbulent and tragic, and at other times meltingly poignant. In three large movements, it’s a big, late romantic work of nearly 30 minutes’ duration. The performance of it by the ARC Ensemble’s players is nothing short of magnificent. But it’s such a compelling work, I can’t imagine it not being taken up by others and becoming part of the standard piano quartet repertoire.

By the time Ben-Haim came to compose the Two Landscapes for viola and piano, respectively titled “The Hills of Judea” and “The Spring,” in 1939, he’d been living in Israel for six years, and his style had already radically changed as a result of adapting to his surroundings and embracing his Jewish culture. We now hear in these two short musical sketches the familiar sounds of nomads in the desert and the exoticisms we tend to associate with the Hebraic melos.

Alone among the pieces on this disc, the Improvisation and Dance , also composed in 1939, is the one that has enjoyed a bit more exposure on disc. As noted above, it was included on Hyperion’s CD (67571), coupled with works by Bloch, and it can be heard in an all-Ben-Haim program of works on a Centaur CD (2766), which also contains the composer’s arrangement of the last movement of his Clarinet Quintet, op. 31a (on this disc) as the Pastorale variée for Clarinet, Harp, and String Orchestra, op. 31b. Ben-Haim dedicated The Improvisation and Dance for Violin and Piano to Zino Francescatti. Whether he ever recorded it or not, I don’t know, but Francescatti did record Ben-Haim’s G-Major Sonata for Solo Violin in 1958, a recording that has circulated on more than one label, but is currently available on an Orfeo CD (711081).

The Improvisation movement is a kind of free-flowing dolente thing, marked Molto rubato , and evoking that image, once again, of a camel caravan wending its way across the desert dunes. The Dance movement, as you’d expect, is an animated, spirited, strongly accented rhythmic piece that sounds like a bunch of riled-up shtetl Klezmerim going after a marauding mob of Bartók’s Rumanian peasants.

In 1944, Ben-Haim composed a set of five piano miniatures, published as Five Pieces for Piano, op. 34. Considering that the timing of the disc is a generous 77 minutes, it’s churlish to complain that Dianne Werner gives us only one of the pieces from the group, No. 4, titled “Canzonetta,” but you can hear the entire set, for free no less, in a number of YouTube performances by half-a-dozen different pianists. The style Ben-Haim adopts for these pieces is best characterized as Impressionistic.

Originally written in 1941, the Clarinet Quintet was revised in 1965, and, as mentioned above, Ben-Haim rescored its last movement, a set of variations, for clarinet, harp, and string orchestra, assigning it the same opus number, but with a “b” appended. Like the Piano Quintet that opens the disc, the Clarinet Quintet is a large three-movement work lasting over 27 minutes, but unlike the much earlier Quartet, the Quintet is in a dissonant, occasionally almost atonal language that’s more difficult to penetrate in just one or two hearings. But the score’s romantic impulses do break through to the surface now and then, reminding us once again of Ben-Haim’s musical roots.

On that subject, there remains some controversy regarding Ben-Haim’s bona fides as an authentic Israeli composer. Not all commentators and critics accept Ben-Haim as either a true Israeli composer or even a particularly significant composer. An in-depth online paper by Ronit Seter in Volume 9 (2011) of Israeli Studies in Musicology Online (biu.ac.il/hu/mu/min-ad/11/Seter-Hirshberg_Ben-Haim.pdf) cites a number of sources that advance the opinion that Ben-Haim, not entirely unlike Ernest Bloch, was essentially a European romantic who colored his works with Hebraic-sounding melodies and harmonies without making a real effort to explore the more modern “art” music of some of his Israeli contemporaries, like Josef Tal, for example. What I read in this, however, is sour grapes. The crux of the criticism seems to me to be not that Ben-Haim wasn’t Jewish or Israeli enough, but that he wasn’t modern enough—that he retained his romantic roots far into the 20th century, resisting the various avant-garde movements, and that he continued to compose music that’s beautiful and deeply moving.

That can certainly be said of the works on this disc. The players that make up the ARC Ensemble give deeply committed performances of every one of them, and Chandos’s usual wide-range and deep sound stage add excellent dimensionality to the recording. Urgently recommended.

FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

FERGUSON Violin Sonata No. 2. BRITTEN Suite for Violin and Piano. WALTON Violin Sonata. Two Pieces for Violin and Piano • Tasmin Little (vn); Piers Lane (pn) • CHANDOS 10770 (61:39)


Here we have the first in a series of British works for violin and piano. Presumably all will feature the excellent team of violinist Tasmin Little and pianist Piers Lane. They are a team in the true sense of the word: Lane well known for his sensitive work in chamber music (he curates and performs in an annual chamber music festival in Townsville, Northern Australia), and Little highly regarded for her performances of British music. Full marks to them for not calling themselves the Little Lane Duo. The series gets off to a fine start with this diverse program of rarely heard and stylistically contrasting works.


The Suite for Violin and Piano op. 6 is among Britten’s earliest pieces (post-juvenilia), when the composer was consciously following continental trends. Its five movements include stylistic pastiches such as a march, a moto perpetuo, and a concluding waltz. Two years later Britten would revisit these forms with even more assurance in his Variations on a Theme of Frank Bridge for string orchestra. The piano part in these short pieces is brilliant (as in the composer’s Piano Concerto, another early work), and very French in places; the ghost of Debussy is present in the rippling arpeggios accompanying quiet sections of the finale. In the 1930s Britten’s music was regarded as superficial—playfulness being a quality that sat uneasily with English composers—but the main attribute of this music is its focus. Britten knew what he wanted to say and employed the most precise means with which to say it. This never changed throughout his career, although his aims obviously did. Little brings an equal precision and poise to her playing of the gentle Lullaby that forms the fourth movement, and both musicians revel in the high spirits and punchy accents required elsewhere. Theirs is a performance that makes you wonder why the work is not played more frequently.


Walton’s days as an enfant terrible were over by the time of his Violin Sonata, which came a decade after the highly successful Violin Concerto of 1937. It is in two movements: the first, rhapsodic and lyrical; the second, a theme and variations—a form the composer increasingly turned to in his late music. Each variation in this movement is in a key a semitone higher than its predecessor. In both movements the writing is fulsome, certainly in comparison to Britten’s spare textures, with the violin part displaying yearning lines and wide intervallic leaps that recall the earlier concerto. The piano was not Walton’s instrument and he wrote little for it, yet its colors are effectively exploited in the variations, notably in the Fifth Variation ( Allegretto con moto ) where the keyboard plays in octaves in its high register against the violin’s pizzicato.


On a Chandos recording of Walton’s Violin Concerto the companion piece is an orchestral version of this Sonata, arranged by Christopher Palmer. Palmer’s recreation of the composer’s orchestral style is perfect, but Walton knew best: it is clearly music conceived for two instruments. Little and Lane’s performance leaves no doubt of that. They also unerringly tap the vein of nostalgia in the first of the Two Pieces, titled Canzonetta , and are suitably frisky in the concluding “Scherzetto.”


The disc opens with a major work by the rarely played Irish composer, Howard Ferguson (1908–1999). It was composed in 1946, as Walton was working slowly on his own Sonata. Ferguson was even more meticulous; he later abandoned composition altogether, so out of touch did he feel with the Modernist wave of the 1950s and 60s. His Sonata No. 2 has a traditional three-movement structure, but again within that there is a tendency to rhapsodize. It takes a few hearings to recognize the economy of means that Ferguson uses as a basis for his emotionally charged music.The underlying tone is one of anxiety and sorrow—even anger in the tougher third movement—no doubt due to the work’s wartime provenance. Both musicians are securely on the composer’s wavelength.


I cannot praise Lane and Little highly enough. They face tough competition in the Walton: Daniel Hope and pianist Simon Mulligan recorded it, coupled with the sonata by Elgar, in 2001; Fanfare ’s Robert Maxham wrote that Hope’s “lyricism in the Walton has a strong, perhaps ironic, pungency.” The young Nigel Kennedy also recorded the piece, and there are older performances available by Aaron Rosand and Yehudi Menuhin. Competition is scarce in the other works. Lydia Mordkovitch taped Ferguson’s two violin sonatas for Chandos in the mid-1990s. I have not heard that disc but I tend to prefer Little to Mordkovitch in other repertoire (such as the Walton Concerto).


The version of Britten’s Suite in the newly released Decca Britten box is by LSO violinist Alexander Barantschik, taken from a single EMI disc of Britten’s chamber music from the mid-1990s. Barantschik’s performance also turns up in a recent EMI collection of Britten’s chamber music. Interestingly, his pianist is named as John Alley on the original release, but John Adey on both the reissue boxes. I presume this is a typographical error that neither EMI nor Universal picked up. Barantschik and Alley treat the Suite to a dry Stravinskian attack, making it sound even more starkly modern, and are recorded in a less resonant acoustic that suits their approach, but Little and Lane have great authority and their program is substantial. The new disc is strongly recommended, and promises much in the forthcoming issues from these fine artists.


FANFARE: Phillip Scott

Tying in with the 100-year anniversary in 2013 of the composer’s birth, we here present two such works, performed by the BBC Philharmonic under Edward Gardner with Chandos stars Tasmin Little and Howard Shelley. The Violin Concerto, here performed dazzlingly by Little, is essentially tragic and weighty in tone, perhaps reflecting his growing concern with the escalation of war-related hostilities. Under Shelley’s fingers the Piano Concerto – in a rare recording with the original third movement, “Recitative and Aria” – is generally lighter and brighter, more transparent and simpler in style.

Jennifer Pike was the youngest-ever winner of the BBC Young Musician of the Year in 2002. She has given performances throughout the UK and around the world and, now aged twenty-three, is widely regarded as one of the finest violinists in Britain. The pianist Tom Poster who performs alongside her is well known for his artistry and versatility, equally in demand as a soloist and as a chamber musician. This recital features violin sonatas by Brahms and Robert Schumann as well as Three Romances by Clara Schumann. Robert Schumann’s Violin Sonata No. 1 is very much a ‘Duo’, the two instrumentalists performing in equal partnership. It was written in 1851 at quite a stressful time in Schumann’s life. There is certainly an air of robustness, even roughness, in the baroque-style finale. By contrast, in Brahms’s Violin Sonata No. 1, the violin is always the principal voice, the piano never a competitor but rather a subtle accompanist. Brahms wrote the work in memory of his godson Felix Schumann who had died of tuberculosis at the tragically young age of twenty-four. Clara Schumann’s Three Romances was her only work for violin and piano, but whilst the violin is allowed to sing throughout, the complexity of the piano part testifies to its having been composed by a pianist of the first rank.

Reviews

Performance (Brahms) **** (R & C Schumann) ***** Recording *****

“...this is a refreshingly projected performance which boasts an almost ideal fluidity in terms of manipulation of tempo and nuance in the first movement [Brahms]... warm-hearted performances of the Clara Schumann Romances ... the distinction of the performances is never in doubt.”

Erik Levi – BBC Music magazine – May 2013

The Brodsky Quartet here turns to the sunshine, bright colors, and deep passions of the South, performing Latin-inspired music for string quartet by composers who all possessed a strong connection to the “South” -- whether the Mediterranean or South America. Favorites and rarities are arm-in-arm, from Paganini’s famed Capricci to chamber gems from composers we think of today only in regard to operatic works. The expert and passionate ministrations of the Brodsky Quartet bring these works to dazzling life.

"Bavouzet’s Haydn is unmatched in its zest and its wit. But it is also substantial, informed and deeply rewarding."

--The New York Times on Bavouzet's Haydn Sonatas cycle, 2022

We have now reached Volume 5 in Jean-Efflam Bavouzet’s project to record the complete piano sonatas of Haydn. This series has been going from strength to strength, every volume receiving consistently excellent reviews.

Haydn composed his solo keyboard sonatas between c. 1750 and 1795, during the period in which the piano was gradually taking the place of the harpsichord. The early sonatas are mostly short, light, and ‘easy’, tailored for amateur musicians and students. After 1765 Haydn composed several sonatas the scope and depth of which are completely new. Over a six- or seven-year period Haydn produced a sequence of ambitious sonatas of a difficulty that resulted in their being poorly circulated. In this latest volume of Haydn’s piano sonatas, Jean-Efflam Bavouzet again chooses a range of sonatas, planned to provide a balanced program characterised by different moods and temperaments.

He explains: ‘This is a long-term endeavour, in which, as the years go by, each album will be like a postcard sent from my journey. Although this journey does not greatly respect chronological considerations, it is being undertaken with the greatest passion so as to try and bring the limitless treasures of this sublime music to life as vividly as possible in our twenty-first-century ears.’ The previous volumes have elicited such comments as ‘A recording worth rushing to the shops for. Bavouzet plays these inventive masterpieces with real love’ (Classic FM on Volume 3) and ‘This series is turning into a real classic: Jean-Efflam Bavouzet has an infectious sense of witty fun that underlies so many of Haydn’s inventions’ (The Observer on Volume 4).

REVIEWS

This is the fifth volume of Haydn Piano Sonatas by Jean-Efflam Bavouzet. I’ve collected all the volumes so far, and with each successive one, Bavouzet goes from strength to strength. All the elements are present - elegance, wit, stylish phrasing and crisp and incisive playing. Formidable technique and musicianship enable him to realize his vision. Chandos’ sound quality is enhanced by a sympathetic acoustic, enabling the listener to discern every nuance and detail.

--MusicWeb International (Stephen Greenbank)

Bavouzet singles out the first movement of Sonata No. 12 for its purity and simplicity, and it is exquisite—and exquisitely played. He became so fascinated with the minor-key trio of the minuet that he included his own musings on it, at much slower tempo, as a bonus track. This isn’t a gimmick. It is fascinating to see an artist become so deeply engaged with the music, particularly music usually so taken for granted or ignored.

The first three sonatas here, Nos. 12, 15, and 37 have three movements, but not necessarily in the obvious fast-slow-fast form, as the opening Andante of No. 12 reveals. The remaining three, Nos. 54-56 (Hob. 41-43) have two movements each...The largest movement here is the opening Andante con espressione of the D major Sonata (No. 56), which lasts more than eight minutes and contains a world of feeling.

In short, these are lovely works, and Bavouzet’s thoughtfulness, dedication to the cause, and immaculate technique are everywhere in evidence, just as they have been on previous releases in this series. Try this disc. It will make you feel young, or keep you that way if you already are.

--ClassicsToday.com (David Hurwitz)

SVENDSEN Norwegian Artists’ Carnival, Op. 14. Violin Concerto in A, Op. 61. Two Icelandic Melodies. Symphony No. 1 in D, Op. 4 • Neeme Järvi, cond; 1Marianne Thorsen (vn); Bergen PO • CHANDOS 10766 (74:10)

This is Volume 3 in a series of discs devoted to the orchestral works of a composer who, it’s believed, composed no more than 33 works with opus numbers, of which approximately 21 are orchestral scores, if you count the cantatas for chorus and orchestra. If you don’t count them, then the four works included on this latest installment, added to the 10 included on Volume 1 (see Fanfare 35:5), plus the four included on Volume 2 (Fanfare 36:4), should wrap up this survey, but with Neeme Järvi you never know.

The famous anecdote of the volatile relationship between Svendsen and his American wife ending with her tossing her husband’s manuscript of a Third Symphony into the fire is probably fictional, but it makes for colorful reading. Sketches, however, for what was probably on its way to becoming another symphony were expanded and orchestrated by Norwegian composer Bjørn Morten Christophersen and premiered by the Bergen Philharmonic as recently as 2011. Perhaps in a follow-up album, Järvi will give us Christophersen’s speculative score.

Meanwhile, what we have on the present disc are Svendsen’s First Symphony and a very ambitious Violin Concerto, plus the shorter programmatic pieces, Norwegian Artist’s Carnival and Two Icelandic Melodies. Svendsen is what I would characterize as a Scandinavian generalist. Like his close contemporaries, Grieg and Danish composer C. F. E. Horneman, Svendsen was yet another product of the Leipzig Conservatory, studying violin with Ferdinand David (of Mendelssohn Violin Concerto fame) and composition with Carl Reinecke. But Svendsen’s works that bear national or folkloristic titles, like Norwegian Artist’s Carnival, don’t sound Norwegian the way Grieg’s music does. In fact, in both style and content, there’s little difference between the boisterous, celebratory, dance-like character of the symphony and the Carnival; and listening to the Two Icelandic Melodies, I’m not sure you would know if you were in Iceland or Finland—there’s a hint of Sibelius in the air.

The violin concerto betrays Svendsen’s training as a violinist under David in many places, but it’s not likely to find a niche among the great romantic concertos, firstly because it’s not really much of a virtuoso vehicle, and secondly, because the composer was so symphonically oriented in his approach that, as pointed out by the above Christopherson, who authored the album note, the work is more of a symphony with violin obbligato than it is a concerto, modeled along the lines of Berlioz’s Harold in Italy. It has, however, been recorded before, not that terribly long ago by Lars Bjørnkjær for Danacord, reviewed in 31:6, a disc I’m afraid I don’t have, but also by Arve Tellefsen with the Oslo Philharmonic on a 1990s Norsk Kulturrads Forlag (NKF) CD, which I do have. Though Tellefsen is every bit Marianne Thorsen’s match on the current Chandos release, unfortunately the NKF recording is a bit dull and recessed sounding.

With the exception of the Romance for Violin and Orchestra, the one work which has probably kept Svendsen from slipping below the horizon with the late-setting summer Scandinavian sun, all of the works on this third volume of his orchestral output are pleasant and attractive, and in the capable hands of Neeme Järvi, the Bergen Philharmonic, violinist Marianne Thorsen, and Chandos’s engineers, beautifully played and recorded; but—ah, the inevitable “but”—the musical nourishment Svendsen affords is probably not life-sustaining. Still, if you’re an obsessive collector, as I suspect many of Fanfare’s readers are, and you acquired Volumes 1 and 2 of this Svendsen survey, this third is obligatory.

FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

The Choir of St John’s College, Cambridge has selected some of the best-known choral works of Samuel Sebastian Wesley for inclusion on this disc, interspersing them with one of his organ works as well as a psalm chant by his father, Samuel Wesley

This is Volume 1 in Imogen Cooper’s new series on Chandos Records, dedicated to the complete works for piano by Robert Schumann. Recognised worldwide as a pianist of virtuosity and poetic poise, Imogen Cooper has established a reputation as one of the finest interpreters of the classical and romantic repertoire. She has dazzled audiences and orchestras throughout her distinguished career, bringing to the concert platform a unique musical understanding and lyrical quality.

“ ... [Davis] on fine form here with the Bergen Philharmonic. The opening to the Corsaire holds no terrors for them ... The lesser-known overtures reveal their virtues well. Davis, abetted by an excellent recording, responds vividly to Berlioz’s pioneering orchestral textures...” - John Warrack – International Record Review – February 2013

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The Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra under Sir Andrew Davis here perform seven dazzling orchestral overtures by Hector Berlioz, a composer who excelled in blending literary and musical elements into highly energetic and personal creations.

The overtures are widely varied in mood, as are the operas from which they were drawn. Berlioz wrote his first large-scale instrumental composition, the Overture to Les Francs-juges, in 1826, the year in which he enrolled at the Paris Conservatoire. Even though the opera itself was never performed, Berlioz remained proudly affectionate of the overture, which was played all over Germany and Holland in its early days. His second opera, Benvenuto Cellini, followed in 1838; its music gave rise both to the opera’s overture and to the concert overture Le Carnaval romain which depicts its subject in brilliant colour through breathtakingly vibrant orchestration.

The comic opera Béatrice et Bénédict took its inspiration from Shakespeare’s Much Ado about Nothing. The overture draws on an intense solo scene for Béatrice and adds elements of the cheerful banter that make up the story of the title characters’ playful courtship.

When Berlioz visited the Hungarian capital Pest in 1846, it was suggested to him that one way of winning the hearts of the audiences there would be to make an arrangement of the beloved Rákóczy March, which up until that point had been known only as a piano piece. Berlioz agreed, and on the very night before he left for Pest, he put together his own orchestral version of the piece. It was a resounding success when performed at his first concert, to the extent that Berlioz promptly included it in the large work on which he was working at the time: La Damnation de Faust.

Le Roi Lear, Le Corsaire, and Waverley have one thing in common: all are independent concert pieces that have been given the title overture as in many respects they do resemble opera overtures – but none is in actual fact connected to an opera. The composer here took his inspiration from literary works. Le Roi Lear, for instance, is a remarkable tone portrait of Shakespeare’s deranged king, full of energy and anger, while Le Corsaire may be loosely based on Byron’s The Corsair. Berlioz based Waverley on a novel of the same name by Sir Walter Scott, and the score bears a quotation in English: ‘Dreams of love and Lady’s charms, give place to honour and to arms.’ The contrast expressed so well in this simple quotation is equally evident in the music itself. Here the ‘dreams of love’ unfold in a long cello melody, which is repeated with richer orchestrations, before leading into the vigorous musical depiction of ‘honour and arms’. - Chandos