Claude-Bénigne Balbastre, the French composer, organist, and harpsichordist, was one of the most famous musicians of his time. His suite of pieces from 1759 is here performed by Sophie Yates on a harpsichord specially chosen for the repertoire, a double manual instrument built by Andrew Garlick in 1996. It is a copy of a French harpsichord by Jean- Claude Goujon, made in Paris in 1748, which today forms part of the collection of the Musée de la Musique at the Conservatoire de Paris. Sophie Yates has made a series of solo CDs for Chandos, many of which have won international awards. She has been described by Gramophone as 'hugely talented' and by BBC Music as playing 'with exceptional poise'. In the eighteenth century, aristocratic or, ideally, royal patronage was the undisputed key to an artist's success. In the case of Balbastre, the young composer was quickly and efficiently introduced to the Parisian musical circles and high society by no less a figure than Jean-Philippe Rameau, and made a brilliant career. He played at the Concert Spirituel until 1782, became organist of the Notre-Dame cathedral and of the Chapelle Royale, harpsichordist to the French royal court where he taught Queen Marie Antoinette, and organist to Louis-Stanislav Xavier, Count of Provence, later Louis XVIII, King of France. His fame grew so great that the archbishop of Paris had to forbid Balbastre to play at Saint Roch during certain services, because the church drew excessive crowds whenever he played. Because of his royal patronage, Balbastre developed a compositional style that displayed strong elements of nobility and grandeur, but there was also a great deal of exuberance, which meant that his works were commonly regarded as more popular than intellectual. The music on this recording takes the form of descriptive 'pièces de charactère'. Some of them - 'La Suzanne', for example - require a sparkling virtuosity, whilst others, such as 'La Berville', calls for the sensitivity to create a supple line. The title Giga at the top of 'La Lugeac' is a clue to its Italianate vigour, and its infectious spirit shows off Balbastre's gift for the common touch. 'La d'Hericourt' and 'La de Caze' are more noble and traditional. By contract, the pastoral style, so very popular in eighteenth-century France, is clearly heard in the socalled Air Champêtre, 'La Castlemore'. This collection of pieces was composed at the time when Balbastre was enjoying his greatest success in Paris, just before the old regime and all that went with it came to a dramatic end. It embodies the last flowering of the French harpsichord repertoire.

This collection of works for guitar and orchestra is celebratory in more ways than one. In its choice of composers it highlights a neat progression of anniversaries: 2001 marks the eightieth birthday of Sir Malcolm Arnold, 2002 the centenary of Sir William Walton and 2003 the centenary of Sir Lennox Berkeley. This is also a celebration of the guitar itself as these works represent an approach independent of traditionally Spanish and Latin-American orientated or inspired music. Recorded in: Jubilee Hall, Newcastle 20-21 January 2001 Producer(s) Ralph Couzens Sound Engineer(s) Jonathan Cooper Christopher Brooke (Assistant)

Well received when first released, these recordings are now issued as a two-CD set, available for the price of one full-price disc. These recordings were the works' premieres and are still considered by many to be first choice for the repertoire.

Recorded in: Orchestra Hall, Detroit 12,13 November 1994 & 26 May 1996 Recorded in: Orchestra Hall, Chicago 20-22 & 25 April 1989 & 30 January-3 February 1991 Producer(s) Charles Greenwell Ralph Couzens Lan Shui (assistant) Chris Hazell - Chicago Sound Engineer(s) Dan Dene Robert Shafer Mitchell Heller - Chicago

It was during the summer of 1911 that George Butterworth (a victim of The Great War, and whose enchanting 1913 idyll, The Banks of Green Willow, comprises the achingly poignant curtain-raiser here) first suggested to Vaughan Williams that he should write a purely orchestral symphony. VW dug out some sketches he had made for a symphonic poem about London, whilst at the same time deriving fruitful inspiration from HG Wells’s 1908 novel, Tono-Bungay (and its visionary final chapter in particular). Geoffrey Toye gave the successful Queen’s Hall premiere in March 1914, and VW subsequently dedicated the score to Butterworth’s memory. Over the next two decades or so, the work underwent three revisions (including much judicious pruning) and was published twice (in 1920 and 1936). In his compelling 1941 recording with the Cincinnati SO, Eugene Goossens employed the 1920 version, which adds about three minutes of music to that definitive 1936 ‘revised edition’. Now Richard Hickox at long last gives us the chance to hear VW’s original, hour-long canvas – and riveting listening it makes too!

Whereas the opening movement is as we know it today, the ensuing, expanded Lento acquires an intriguingly mournful, even world-weary demeanour. Unnervingly, the ecstatic full flowering of that glorious E major Largamente idea, first heard at fig F in the final revision, never materialises, and the skies glower menacingly thereafter. Towards the end of the Scherzo (at 5'44) comes a haunting episode that Arnold Bax was particularly sad to see cut (‘a mysterious passage of strange and fascinating cacophony’ was how he described it in his autobiography, Farewell, My Youth [Scholar Press; 1992]). The finale, too, contains a wealth of additional material, most strikingly a liturgical theme of wondrous lyrical beauty (try from 6'42) and, in the epilogue, a gripping paragraph (beginning at 15'47) which both looks back to the work’s introduction as well as forward to the first movement of A Pastoral Symphony. Sprawling it may be, but VW’s epic conception evinces a prodigal inventiveness, poetry, mystery and vitality that do not pall with repeated hearings, and, time and again, I find myself marvelling at just how hugely influential its intoxicatingly colourful orchestral palette must have been on Holst’s The Planets and even Bax’s wartime tone-poems.

Hickox and the LSO respond with an unquenchable spirit, generous flexibility and tender affection that suit VW’s admirably ambitious inspiration to a T, and Chandos’s sound is big and bold to match. Quite simply, an essential purchase for anyone remotely interested in British music.

-- Gramophone [7/2001]

Classical Music

Classical Music

The eagerly awaited volume 2 in the fascinating exploration of Antoine Reicha’s keyboard music by the trailblazing pianist Ivan Ilic is now out! Ilic here digs into a crucial aspect of Antoine Reicha’s music: counterpoint and the manner in which Bach’s music served as a point of departure for Reicha’s eclectic, fertile mind and wide variety of musical styles. If most of these etudes are made up of a Prelude paired with a Fugue, their variety offers the album great diversity, and unveils the compositional genius of Antoine Reicha: here are unexpected moods and textures, sophisticated canons, cheeky invertible counterpoint, chaconnes and minuet-like character pieces, even a piece the only unifying characteristic of which seems to be its tumbling scales in dotted rhythm. Ilic’s unique interpretations are supported by enlightening booklet notes, written by the pianist himself, shedding light on revelatory moments in the composer’s life. While the musical world will soon become saturated with celebrations of the 250th anniversary of the birth of Beethoven, his friend and exact contemporary Antoine Reicha will enjoy a renaissance with this unmissable series.

This new release from Chandos' early music label, Chaconne, focuses on Buxtehude's seven cantatas, collectively known as Membra Jesu nostri. These are among Buxtehude's best-known works, and perfectly exemplify the seventeenth-century preference for musical structures that are broadly symmetrical, but subtly varied in detail. Each of the seven cantatas has roughly the same shape: Biblical passages are set for the whole ensemble and enclose stanzas from the mediaeval poem Rhythmica oratio, which are set as arias for reduced vocal forces and interspersed with instrumental ritornelli.

Buxtehude's Membra Jesu nostri takes the form of a sequence of seven meditations on the crucified body of Jesus, beginning with the feet ('Ad pedes'), followed by the knees ('Ad genua'), the hands ('Ad manus'), the side ('Ad latus'), the breast ('Ad pectus'), the heart ('Ad cor'), and the face ('Ad faciem'). As such, the work is written from the perspective of a penitent kneeling at the foot of the cross and gradually extending his gaze upwards, meditating on each part of the body in turn. The keys chosen for the cantatas seem to have added symbolic meaning. As the gaze rises, they move from flats to sharps, from C minor to E minor, before finally returning to the opening key to produce a beautifully unified cycle. On this release the cantata cycle is complemented by Matthias Weckmann's Kommet her zu mir alle, a setting of the words from St Matthew's Gospel (11: 28 - 30), in which the composer gives the words of Jesus to a virtuoso bass singer with an impressive range of nearly two octaves, a part here performed by Peter Harvey, and provides him with an accompaniment of two violins, three bass viols, and continuo.

The works on this disc are performed by an excellent ensemble of early music specialists. As exclusive artists, The Purcell Quartet is today popularizing the cantatas of Buxtehude in concerts and recordings involving a fabulous quartet of soloists - Emma Kirkby,Michael Chance, Charles Daniels, and Peter Harvey - to which, for the occasion, the group is joined by the soprano Elin Monahan Thomas. The Quartet has also recorded a huge range of music exclusively for Chandos, including works by Purcell, Corelli, Lawes, Bach, Handel, Vivaldi, Weckmann, Buxtehude, Leclair, Schütz, Couperin, and Biber, to outstanding critical and public acclaim. The early music specialists Fretwork, the viol ensemble, also performs on this recording.

Alan Rawsthorne's music was the soundtrack to adventure. Between 1937 and 1964, he scored 27 films, most with a military or adventurer's theme. Bold brass and soaring strings characterize his vivid musical illustrations of conflict and courage.
His music has a larger than life quality, fitting perfectly with the big screen. The regal style originates from a time when movies were still magic and audiences regarded performances as major events. Rawsthorne captures the essence of drama on the epic scale required by the stories. Recorded in 1999 by Rumon Gamba and the BBC Philharmonic, this album improves upon the original soundtracks with superior sound quality.

Recorded in: Grand Hall of Moscow Conservatory September 1996 Producer(s) Valeri Polyansky Sound Engineer(s) Igor Veprintsev

For all his successes on the operatic stage, Menotti has never won the same reputation in the field of instrumental music. As the 'Violin Concerto' on this disc reveals, however, Menotti's orchestral music is as concerned with creating vivid, dramatic images as are any of his operas. Recorded in: Teatro Nuovo, Spoleto, Italy 4 & 5 July 2001 Producer(s) Ralph Couzens (Recording) Aidan Oliver (Assistant) Sound Engineer(s) Ralph Couzens Christopher Brooke (Assistant)

Extraordinary, deeply expressive, bassoon playing.

Karen Geoghegan, runner-up in the BBC’s recent Classical Star programme is on a mission to promote the bassoon repertoire. This, her debut CD, is an ideal starting point. From the opening bars, the quality of the recording is self-evident, with a well balanced and excellently produced orchestral sound. By the time the bassoon enters, one is already immersed in quality, and it is easy to question whether a young performer such as Geoghegan can match those standards.

Not only does she match them, she surpasses them. Her sound quality is extraordinary, proving her argument that the bassoon is deeply expressive, worthy of being taken seriously as a solo instrument. The Hummel concerto is the work that brought her to Chandos’s attention initially, during the final of Classical Star, and this recording leaves no doubt about the artistry of this exciting young performer. The faultless technical work is never a burden - something often expected from this notoriously cumbersome instrument - and in Geoghegan’s hands, the bassoon is agile and flexible. The slow movement is breathtaking, with her depth of sound something that should be experienced by all. The cadenza is particularly stunning, with some beautifully resonant low notes contrasted against a singing high register. She has an instinctive feel for phrasing and spacing, using silence to give extra weight to the notes she plays. The orchestral playing is also impressive, with Wallfisch capably handling the impressive Orchestra of Opera North. The finale has charm and personality, and a sense of youthful enjoyment. This is a fresh, exuberant performance, which is captivating from beginning to end.

The Weber that follows is mysteriously dark in its opening Andante, and the subsequent variations are expertly performed. The Hungarian Rondo has a charming appeal, with its light-hearted nature and strong rhythms. The accompaniment from the orchestra is poised and contained, giving a perfectly balanced accompaniment, which features well-presented solo moments from various wind players. Geoghegan once again performs with style and understanding, and a maturity of musicality which one would not expect from somebody her age. Her command of her instrument is truly remarkable, in both the fast paced moments, such as the dramatic end of the work, and in the slower, more expressive passages.

Berwald’s Concert Piece follows, composed in 1827 and first performed in the composer’s native Sweden in the following year. There is a strong operatic influence in the writing, and the bassoon takes on the role of a resonant tenor voice. The Andante, with its surprising setting of a famous British tune - listen to the CD to find out which one! - is exquisite, performed with deep-felt expression. The wide leaps and technical display in the following variations are equally impressive, further displaying this young performer’s breadth of ability.

Not many will have previously encountered Jacobi. Born in Germany in 1791, he was a prolific composer of works for bassoon. Karen Geoghegan has often spoken about the multitude of bassoon works which are not often heard by the general public, and Jacobi’s works are a prime example of this. The Introduction and Polonaise is well constructed and is more usually heard in a version for bassoon and piano. This is the world premiere recording of the orchestral version, with the sleeve-notes explaining that the orchestration was copied by bassoonist William Bailey from an unknown source in the early twentieth century. The version works well, and the orchestration seems natural and carefully balanced. The piece makes considerable technical demands of the soloist, played here with typical evenness and sense of ease. She proves that the concept of a virtuoso bassoonist is certainly not a myth.

Forming a very obvious contrast, Elgar’s compositional style suits the bassoon equally well. Composed later than the other works, in 1910, it makes use of the expressive qualities of the instrument, with Geoghegan’s luxurious sound showing the music off at its best.

The final track is an orchestration of Gershwin’s Summertime, in an arrangement by David Arnold. This is one of the highlights of the disc, showing an entirely different aspect to the bassoon in a way which reaches out to the listener. Geoghegan’s sound is ideally suited to this music, and she has a relaxed jazzy feel, capturing the essence of the work and rivalling many jazz singers. The bassoon has a wonderful vocal quality in its higher registers, which is unmissable here. It is perhaps difficult to include such a well-known and popular track on a disc such as this, but it balances nicely with the rest of the programme and shows the bassoon in its best possible light.

Despite the obvious criticisms of reality TV and a culture of people who try to achieve fame overnight without the hard work that goes with it, it is evident that Classical Star found some real talent. It is clear that Geoghegan has spent her life so far working hard and nurturing her abilities, under the careful guidance of some excellent teachers, such as Janet Bloxwich and John Orford. With a disc such as this, it is impossible not to take the bassoon, and Karen Geoghegan, seriously.

-- Carla Rees, MusicWeb International

Strongly expressive, moving and often gripping.

The three works recorded here were written between 1949 and 1970, thus spanning more than twenty years of Leighton’s creative life.

The Symphony for Strings Op.3, one of Leighton’s earliest significant works, was first performed by Gerald Finzi and his Newbury String Players following Bernard Rose’s recommendation. Finzi, to whom Leighton dedicated his Veris Gratia Op.9 (1950), commented that he had “seldom come across an early work of such achievement” (in Diana McVeagh’s Gerald Finzi: His Life and Music publ. Boydell & Brewer). The music of this substantial work composed by a young man of twenty is still indebted to that of composers from older generations. One certainly thinks of Vaughan Williams and Finzi but also of Herbert Howells; but the music already displays a remarkable flair for telling string textures and considerable formal mastery. The first movement opens with a slow introduction soon giving way to the main body of the movement characterised by crisp rhythms and assured contrapuntal writing. The slow movement is mostly calm and expressive with a tenser central section, whereas the sunny third movement completely dispels the tension of the preceding movement and concludes the work in high spirits although the very ending is rather subdued and somewhat inconclusive. One can but wonder why a fine work of such calibre has remained unrecorded, let alone unheard, for so many long years. It clearly belongs to that glorious legacy of magnificent British works for string orchestra. One hopes that this recording will encourage many string orchestras to take it into their repertoire.

I have always had a soft spot for the Concerto for String Orchestra Op.39 simply because it was the very first work by Leighton that I have ever heard. Composed some twelve years after the Symphony for Strings, this is a considerably more mature work. In the intervening years, many things had happened to Leighton. He studied with Petrassi in Rome as a recipient of the Mendelssohn Scholarship. Petrassi, no doubt, introduced Leighton to dodecaphony and serialism and, more importantly, taught him how to use these techniques in a supple way in order to meet his personal expressive and formal needs; Petrassi was never a strict serialist. During that same period, Leighton also composed some early major works such as the Fantasia Contrappuntistica Op.24 for piano, the masterly Cello Concerto Op.31 that I consider one of his finest and most gripping achievements as well as the two string quartets and the Piano Quintet Op.34. The music of Op.39 is clearly mature, vintage Leighton throughout, although echoes of Bartók and even Shostakovich may still be heard from time to time. It now fully displays Leighton’s tense, rugged lyricism that can be best heard in the outer slow movements framing a short, nervous Scherzo. This is a most impressive and powerfully expressive work. I had not heard it for too many long years and I had forgotten what a beautiful work it was.

Although scored for the same forces as Poulenc’s celebrated Organ Concerto, the Concerto for Organ, String Orchestra and Timpani Op.58 is a strikingly different piece. This major mature work displays many features that one has now come to regard as typical Leighton hallmarks. It is an intensely expressive, often sombre piece of utterly serious music that I find hard to resist. Its three movements are laid out in a similar pattern as those of the Concerto for Strings: two long slow outer movements framing a shorter central Scherzo. The dark-hued opening Lament unfolds contrapuntally with considerable cumulative force, the music being punctuated by an ominous, hollow gesture played by the timpani. The music gathers considerable momentum in the course of the first movement and the tension is eventually released in the short, nimble but nonetheless tense Scherzo. The final movement is a typical Leighton structure in the form of a Chorale with Variations eventually capped by a brief restatement of the very opening of the first movement.

These recordings are presented as premiere recordings, which is only partly true for collectors will certainly remember that the Organ Concerto was once available on Hyperion A66097 played by Christopher Rathbone with the Southern Pro Arte conducted by Charles Peebles. The Concerto for Strings was once available on Pye Virtuoso LP (TPLS 13005) played by the LPO conducted by John Snashall. Neither of these long-deleted LPs has ever been re-issued. Thus the “real” premiere recording is that of the Symphony for Strings. This is just a mere “grumble” about an otherwise magnificent release.

I now hope that the second volume - to include the masterly Second Symphony “Sinfonia Mistica” - will soon be released.

Leighton’s strongly expressive and often gripping music is superbly served by excellent performances and very fine recording. This magnificent release is a must for all Leighton fans, but also for all those who still need to be convinced that contemporary music can also be moving.

-- Hubert Culot, MusicWeb International

Chandos releases a new compilation of orchestral works by Grieg on its mid-price 'Classics' label. The disc contains some of Grieg's most popular works. Recorded in: Ulster Hall, Belfast 29-31 August (Suite No. 1), 19 & 20 August 1989 (other works) Producer(s) Brian Couzens (Suite No. 1) Tim Oldham (other works) Sound Engineer(s) Ralph Couzens Philip Couzens (Suite No. 1) Richard Lee (other works)

The Russian composer, conductor and pianist Arensky was a pupil of Rimsky-Korsakov at St Petersburg Concervatory and later taught at the Moscow Conservatory, where his pupils included Rachmaninov and Scriabin. His music is an ecclectic blend of Russian idiom and late romantic tradition. Vassily Sinaisky is a master of this repertoire and has made a string of recordings of Russian music with the BBC Philharmonic, all of which have received tremendous critical acclaim. Recorded in: New Broadcasting House, Manchester 9-11 April 2002 Producer(s) Brian Pidgeon (Executive) Mike George (Recording) Sound Engineer(s) Stephen Rinker

Classical Music

To celebrate the centenary of the birth of Sir Michael Tippett, Chandos is releasing Richard Hickox's acclaimed recordings of his symphonies and the Suite from the opera New Year, packaged in a handsome box - and at a special price: 3 discs for the price of 2.

" There is no pianist better equipped to carry the Billy Mayerl revival forward than Eric Parkin—unless it is Mayerl himself, whose 78s are not as available in transfers as they should be...He employs the strict rhythm arising from dance music which the composer often specifies, he understands the piano style—lyrical but fairly dry, and he plays with real musicianship without apology for music which makes friends through being easy on the ear. ...Parkin's delivery is as polished as a fine Mozart player: every phrase feels just right...these are stylish and ideally satisfying interpretations: Mayerl enthusiasts will need all three volumes"
- Peter Dickinson, GRAMOPHONE

Billy Mayerl was one of the most brilliant figures in British musical life between the two World Wars – a kind of English Scott Joplin of the novelty rag, a King of Syncopation as composer, pianist, educator and celebrity. His compositions include novelties deriving from ragtime as well as more lyrical pieces which place him in the English tradition of Edward German or Eric Coates, but also of Cyril Scott, John Ireland or early Frank Bridge. In the decades after his death, his reputation went into a decline. The 1990s saw a revival of interest in his work. His centenary was marked with a spate of recordings, largely from Eric Parkin, and Mayerl was a Radio 3 Composer of the Week in December 2002.

These immensely popular recordings are available now at mid-price.

Mayerl’s playing reached a vast audience in solo spots during broadcasts by the Savoy Havana Band in the early twenties and it was so popular that there were demands from both amateurs and professionals for instruction in fashionable modern syncopation. In 1926, therefore, Mayerl left the Savoy and opened the Billy Mayerl School of Music which flourished until the Second World War. His recordings are now classics, astonishing as live performances in the days when 78s did not allow for the editing assumed today. But Eric Parkin comes as close as anyone to the style, and his experience as a performer of both classical and popular music goes back to the time when Mayerl was still alive.

Mayerl was swept up in an endless round of touring shows, music halls and broadcasts, which never gave him time to record more than a small proportion of his output which totalled some 300 separate pieces apart from eighteen studies and over 120 transcriptions. Almost half of the latter were done for teaching purposes and appeared in the Billy Mayerl Club Magazine, which clocked up more than 2000 member subscribers between 1934 and 1939. They are ingenious recreations of popular songs in Mayerl’s own personal piano style. Mayerl also wrote scores for several frothy West End musical comedies in the 1930s, including many successful songs. There are also orchestral pieces, not all scored by Mayerl, which confirm his place somewhere between the English pastoral tradition and the Ealing studio film music of the period. During his lifetime there were distinctions between dance music, jazz, light music and the classical scene, which his work confusingly overlapped. Now crossover is legitimate; Mayerl has been taken up by a variety of pianists, usually classical, not all of whom can cope with this technical demands; and at last his delightful music is recognised and accepted on its own terms.

High Performance Review wrote of this recording at its original release, 'Prokofiev's ballet score [The Buffoon] was written for Diaghilev's Ballets Russes, but it's doubtful that any ballet company ever has danced to such vivid, raucous playing as Järvi inspires in this concert suite. Chandos has blessed the Scottish National Orchestra with bright, airy, near demonstration quality sounds, and Järvi provides an enthusiastic reading that sparkles with an abundance of characterful wit and dances with good humour'. The music from The Buffoon is complemented here by two further colourful suites, that from the opera The Love for Three Oranges and the lesser-known, late Waltz Suite, which brings together music from the opera War and Peace, the ballet Cinderella and the film Lermontov. 'Järvi and his orchestra produce brilliantly exciting performances, which are stunningly recorded', wrote Australian Hi-Fi and Music Review.

Richard Hickox directs a star-studded cast in this fantastic new recording of two early operettas by Arthur Sullivan. 'Cox and Box' was first performed in 1866, when the composer was just twenty-four. It shared the bill with another operetta by writer W. S. Gilbert, and it is highly likely that this was how Arthur Sullivan and william Gilbert met. 'Trial by Jury', written as a commission for Richard D'Oyly Carte, was their second collaboration, and it was this project that Gilbert and Sullivan discovered their joint creative voice. New and exciting, it took British musical theatre by storm. Premiere recording of the original orchestration of 'Cox and Box' which Arthur Sullivan approved for use at the Savoy performance in 1894.

The first Rachmaninoff recording by Gianandrea Noseda and the BBC Philharmonic; 'Francesca da Rimini', received the accolade of 'Classical CD of the Week' from The Daily Telegraph and elicited the comment, 'Noseda sculpts the brooding passions of Rachmaninoff's dramatic score with trhilling intensity', from The Times. They return with three highly charged orchestral works. Noseda writees of his journey with Symphony No.1: 'Having conducted several times the Rachmaninoff second and third symphonies, I've been wondering continuously why the first of his symphonies has been neglected or considered not as good as its later sisters. In the last couple of years the level of my curiousity has increased so much that I've taken seriously the task of studying, learning and finally performing Rachmaninoff's first symphony. The result astonished me greatly: the symphony has such a beauty in the melodic line, the harmony is so refined, the structure is well controlled and yet everything seems naturally fluent.' Regarded as one of the most remarkable composers of the twentieth century, Serge Rachmaninoff wrote three romanticalldy inclined symphonies, two of which are now standard orchestral repertoire. However, the premiere of Symphony No.1 was such a disaster that Rachmaninoff refrained from composing anything more for the next three years. The conductor, Glazunov, is reputed to have been drunk, and Rachmaninoff was unable to attend the entire performance. He reacted by tearing up the score. Thankfully for posterity, the instrumental parts were preserved and rediscoverd in 1945, permitting the work to be restored. It is a work full of youthful fervour, distinctive and sweeping themes, and nationalist sentiments, and is now widely regarded as a vivid example of his early talent. It is complemented here by the 'Youth Symphony', the first movement of a projected but never completed symphony in D minor, composed when Rachmaninoff was only seventeen, and the great symphonic poem 'The Isle of the Dead', inspired by Arnold Böcklin's painting of the same name which Rachmaninoff had seen on display in Paris in 1907. Composed in 1909, it is still a relatively early work, but contains some of the dark Russian spiritual qualities which Rachmaninoff was to develop further in his later compositions. Gianandrea Noseda has a particular affinity for Russian music, which perhaps grew from his time with Gergiev at the Kirov. It is clear from his conducting that Rachmaninoff's music is deeply personal to him. Orchestra and conductor will perform this work at the BBC Proims in summer 2008 and at Manchester's Bridgewater Hall in November. Gianandrea Noseda will also conduct Rachmaninoff with the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra in June.

Michael Collins has been recording for Chandos what one might call thematic ‘mood’ albums; virtuosity has been covered [CHAN10615] and here is lyricism. Burgmüller’s Duo is a single movement, but tripartite piece, dating from 1834. It assuredly lives up to the disc billing, being profusely lyric, but in its central panel cleverly evokes the operatic by means of declamatory piano statements above which the clarinet spins vocalised curlicues of decidedly virtuosic pretension. It hardly aspires to anything especially deep, but makes for a good palette refreshing opener.

Finzi’s wartime Bagatelles are a clarinet staple. Collins’s subtly coloured, variegated tone is a perfect fit. He’s rhythmically sharp in the Prelude, and elegantly relaxed in the Romance, though I have to admit I do prefer John Denman’s slightly brisker tempo. Collins however plays the Carol with disarming simplicity, the tone remaining richly rounded, and he brings a very vocalised sense to the Forlana with its echoes of the composer’s great setting of Hardy’s For Life I Had Never Cared Greatly and specifically the lines ‘Conditions of Doubt/Conditions that leaked slowly out.’

Heinrich Joseph Baermann was an elite clarinettist of his time. His Clarinet Quintet of 1821 was rediscovered in 1922 and claimed to be a very early work by Wagner. Pamela Weston has arranged the Adagio from the Quintet for clarinet and piano, and most effectively, as it’s a lovely movement, rich and warm. Paul Reade’s Suite from ‘The Victorian Kitchen Garden’ comes from music for a TV series, and can be accompanied either by piano (as here) or harp. The five gentle scenes are atmospheric and engaging, the second (called ‘Spring’) having requisite jauntiness and the third – ‘Mists’ – just the right sense of stillness. I know Pärt’s Spiegel im Spiegel gets trotted out often in one of its manifold arrangements, especially when mining pathos in TV war documentaries – the Barber Adagio de nos jours – but I can certainly take the composer’s clarinet/piano version nicely. Nine minutes doesn’t seem a second too long.

And finally then to two very different French Clarinet sonatas. The Saint-Saëns was composed at the very end of his long life. It’s suffused with easy going charm and lyrical content. Collins drops to the chalumeau register in the slow movement where the piano’s rolled chords remind one very distinctly of César Franck. Collins conveys the quietude and ending-without-regret quality of this work very adeptly. The Poulenc too was a very late work, composed the year before his death and dedicated to the memory of Honegger. Again this is a convincingly argued performance. It’s a touch more measured than, say, Richard Horsfield and Ian Brown in the Nash Ensemble’s performance, but Collins and Michael McHale balance the introversion of the Romanza with the freewheeling dynamism of the finale well.

The warm recording comes courtesy of Potton Hall, an elite venue of choice for chamber recitals.

-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

I’ve noticed quite a few new saxophone discs filtering into the classical market place recently which, given the previous dearth of decent repertoire for this instrument in the past, has got to be a cause for celebration. The Japanese virtuoso Nobuya Sugawa has been responsible for a lot of it, and his seemingly unquenchable thirst for exploration of his chosen instrumental family continues unabated.

The present release is very nicely programmed, starting with two premiere recordings of works written for him by fellow countrymen, and concluding with two repertoire pieces with strong links.

The two familiar works were written within a year of each other and both come from that heady 1930s period of Stravinskian neo-classicism. Both were commissioned by Sigurd Rascher and both featured in the repertory of the influential French teacher and pioneer Marcel Mule. There are textural and rhythmic similarities but both have their own stamp of individuality. The Ibert is actually for soprano sax and 11 instruments, giving it a transparent, occasionally jazz-like feel. It’s a short, engagingly colourful work typical of its composer, and it’s no surprise that it crops up many times in competitions and student practical exams. The dreamy central larghetto is memorable, especially given Sugawa’s honeyed tone and supple phrasing.

The Larsson Concerto has a bit more backbone and sinew, though still only accompanied by string orchestra. The spirit of France hovers again here, with a Poulenc-like first subject and a motoric allegro scherzando finale that is thrillingly played by all here. It’s a slightly more serious work, but still full of life, vigour and contrast.

The two other concertos maybe of more interest to the curious and both explore the familiar traits of the instrument as well as taking it to further boundaries. In the booklet note written by the respective composers, fellow-saxophonist Honda writes that he was ‘entrusted with the task of writing a concerto that would represent a tribute to jazz…’vent’ is the French word for wind, so please think of the Concerto du vent as a Concerto of the wind’. It does have a pleasingly ‘open air’ quality to the melodic line, with Sugawa given plenty of opportunity to play ‘around’ the phrase – not strictly improvising but using portamento and blue note phrases to embellish the chords in a jazzy fashion. It works quite well, linking nicely with the older pieces, and is again given stunning advocacy, but I’m not quite sure Honda knows what sort of piece this is, so maybe we don’t. It’s certainly undemanding listening and doesn’t particularly outstay its welcome.

Sugawa has collaborated with Yoshimatsu before on the 1994 Cyber Bird Concerto, and Chandos continue their championing of this composer with this latest premiere. Using once again soprano sax, this strikes me as an eclectic work, having a moody, post-Takemitsu Impressionistic first movement - which clearly suits this instrument’s timbral character - some wilder, Berio-like improvisatory shrieks around 3:45 and 7:50 into track 2 before going off into some fairly predictable blues/ jazz doodlings around 6:05 –a homage to Brubeck’s ‘Take Five’? – before dissolving into Garbarek territory towards the end. Again, it cleverly explores the instrument’s unique and versatile sonorities without being especially memorable or groundbreaking; in fact, at times we seem to be in a world of background mood music, but it is superbly performed and recorded.

Altogether, an interesting survey that will be welcomed by those with a liking for this sort of repertoire.

-- Tony Haywood, MusicWeb International