Includes work(s) by Jean Sibelius. Ensembles: Lahti Symphony Orchestra, Tempera String Quartet, Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra, Helsinki University Chorus, Dominante Choir. Conductors: Osmo Vänskä, Neeme Järvi. Soloists: Leonidas Kavakos, Dong-Suk Kang, Anne Sofie von Otter, Bengt Forsberg, Monica Groop, Folke Gräsbeck.

Classical Music

To list the various distinctions awarded to the recordings that make up this sumptuous offering is almost impossible; suffice it to say that the entire series received the Grieg Award in 2007, the year of the hundredth anniversary of the death of the composer, as well as a very special commendation by the UK Grieg Society the same year.

During 2003-2006, as the individual discs were released, reviewers all over the world were heaping praise over the series – astoundingly enough, as this is repertoire that at least in part belong to some of the most well-represented on disc. But this did not seem to matter to the critics, who described the performance of the Piano Concerto as one that ‘will make you fall in love with the music all over again’ (American Record Guide) and that of the Holberg Suite ‘so compelling that it simply makes you forget about any other’ (Classics Today.com), deeming the Peer Gynt Suites to be ‘interpretations that rejuvenate even this almost hackneyed, overly familiar music, relieving it of all the ballast of performance history’ (klassik.com).

It was the freshness of the performances by Ole Kristian Ruud and the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra that struck most critics – freshness coupled with expertise: ‘Bergen musicians have lived with these scores since their creation and all the performances here have a relaxed, idiomatic naturalness in their virtuosity’ (Gramophone). A second point was the superior sound quality – the result of inspired and painstaking work by the BIS recording staff in combination with the splendid acoustics of the Grieg Hall in Bergen. ‘Sonically this production features demonstration quality both in stereo and SACD multi-channel formats’ wrote the reviewer of Classics Today.com; ‘a fabulous complete cycle, admirably served by the splendid recording technique’ was the verdict in Classica-Répertoire.

The third factor contributing to the warm reception was of course the music itself, the fascination and power exerted by the Piano Concerto and the complete Peer Gynt, the emotion projected in Bergliot and Den Bergtekne, the charm and freshness of the orchestral songs and Lyric Suite – in the words of one reviewer: ‘music that you'd have to be either deaf or dead not to love’. The complete traversal, generally considered a reference point in the Grieg discography, is now available in this stereo-only version at a very advantageous price. (8 CDs for the price of 3)

Chinese Evergreens contains timeless pieces of Chinese folk music. Performed by Yomiuri Nippon Symphony Orchestra under the direction of Kenneth Jean, these songs are given new life for a new generation of listeners. Songs include Plum Blossoms in the Snow, The Evening Bells from Nanping, Flowers Are Not Flowers, and many more.

Glazunov never published his incidental music to Lermontov’s Masquerade, perhaps because it consists of so many very short numbers. There are a couple of larger bits: a mazurka, a gallop, a polonaise, and a Valse-Fantasia. The music is typically tuneful, beautifully crafted, and the use of the chorus, both wordless and normally, adds immeasurably to the effect. The remaining items have been recorded previously on occasion, and they are also more substantial than their titles might otherwise suggest (the Romantic Intermezzo particularly). These are excellent performances, warmly and vividly played, and boldly engineered, though as usual from this source the sonics are a touch “studio bound”. This is volume 18 in Naxos’ ongoing series of Glazunov orchestral works, and it’s certainly one of the most interesting. Give it a shot, if you’re curious.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

The Naxos mission to record all of Glazunov’s orchestral legacy has reached volume 18. Almost by definition that fact alone makes this review redundant. If you are a Glazunov acolyte you will have pre-ordered this disc as soon as it was advertised, but if you are new to his music I cannot imagine this disc being a point of entry of choice. Even though it proves to be a hugely charming disc few would claim that this music is central to one’s appreciation of the composer – there are other places to start for that. As with many of the other discs in the series Naxos make use of their Russian ‘house’ orchestra – The Russian Philharmonic this time under the baton of Dmitry Yablonsky. This is an orchestra whose playing can range from the inspired to the positively pedestrian so I’m pleased to report that on this occasion it is neat and alert with some aptly characterful solos taken when required. The recording too is clear and warm without some of that glassy resonance that occasionally afflicts the engineering from this source. Most interestingly added to the mix is the Gnesin Academy Chorus. More of their role in the music later but enough to say that they sing well and blend into the musical textures effectively.

The main work here is the thirty-six or so minutes of incidental music Glazunov wrote for a 1917 staging of Mikhail Lermontov’s 1835 play Masquerade. Keith Anderson’s detailed liner-note explains that this significant score by Glazunov existed only in manuscript. Confusion is compounded by the fact that the exact musical sequence and how they relate to the play is unclear. Hence we have a detailed synopsis of the play and in parallel a musical sequence that is satisfying in itself but not necessarily one that follows the action of the play. The problem arises from the fact the much of the score provides music for the various balls that constitute many of the scenes. Glazunov has composed a score that is both practical – as in the dance sequences above and emotionally illustrative, seemingly underlining the prevailing mood or emotion of a scene. The score is divided into twenty-six tracks running from a miniature fife and drum march lasting just seventeen seconds to a full blown Valse-Fantasie at five and a half minutes. The latter is authentic Glazunov, very much in the style of the similar movement from Raymonda or the Concert Waltzes. It could be argued that this continuity/similarity is both Glazunov’s strength and his weakness. Really it could date from any point during his compositional career and certainly as a piece dating from 1917 breaks no musical frontiers – although why should it if the requirement is for a romantic waltz. Glazunov’s fabled orchestral mastery is on display throughout – the previously mentioned fife and drum is a perfect example how just two instruments are used to perfect effect (track 14 – Pantomime 8). Elsewhere the greatest musical interest is provided in the movements featuring the chorus. The very opening track is instantly atmospheric and full of foreboding - the synopsis makes it clear that this is a dark and tragic play with echoes of Eugene Onegin and Othello. This is sung to great effect by the Gnesin Academy Chorus with a definite Russian colour to their sound that feels absolutely right although lacking that last ounce of deep implacable resonance. Apart from the cantatas used as fillers on Valery Polyansky’s cycle of the Glazunov Symphonies on Chandos there have not been many opportunities to hear Glazunov’s writing for voices. I particularly like the way he uses them colouristically on occasion. Elsewhere they sing a text in traditional style. Act IV of the play depicts the final descent into madness and death of the Othello-like character Arbenin. The music accompanying Act IV Scene 1 here (track 22) is a marvellous unaccompanied chorus. Sadly there is no text given in the liner notes. It is sung with a beautiful tonal blend and sensitivity – a real highlight of the disc – but I have no idea what they are saying. The tracks have been well sequenced so that the movements flow one to another – very important with many short cues. This is an excellent addition to the Glazunov discography. One interesting and diverting thought; Khachaturian’s suite Masquerade is also incidental music written for a 1941 production of the same play. Given the synopsis outlined by Keith Anderson I am even more at a loss as to how Khachaturian’s riotously good humoured music - at least as far the suite is a sample - fits!

The rest of the disc is filled with judiciously chosen pieces. Naxos has consistently shown considerable care and imagination with the couplings in this series and this disc is no exception. None of the music is revelatory or startling but in style and mood they match well. The two pieces forming Op. 14 are slight and charming and beautifully played here. Likewise the dance fragment that is the Pas de caractére Op.68. The largest single piece on the whole disc is the Romantic Intermezzo Op.69 which in turn is also the most familiar piece. It has appeared as a filler for part of Gennadi Rozhdestvensky’s symphony cycle on Olympia as well as Evgeny Svetlanov’s similar traversal on Melodiya. The title says it all – a lyrical slow movement in all but name it receives another sympathetic performance here although one that tends to the lugubrious. It runs about a minute longer than either of the other named versions.

To summarise: an automatic purchase at this price for anyone with an interest in this composer or the byways of theatrical music. The comparison with Khachaturian’s suite is quite fascinating – two such varying responses to literally the same text. It is better engineered than some in this series and is conducted and played with sympathy and insight.

Appealing yet very rare music performed with great aplomb.

-- Nick Barnard, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

As this second volume of overtures shows, there really is quite a bit of little-known Schubert orchestral music. Perhaps the biggest discovery for many listeners will be the turbulent Overture in E minor, but there are more than a few substantial pieces here. The two Overtures in the Italian Style are delightful, and so true to their models, and all of the music here is very well played and recorded. Benda and the Prague Sinfonia deliver a particularly vivacious account of the Rosamunde Overture, just the opposite of the thick and heavy "German" approach that we so often hear, while Fierabras also has plenty of energy. The sonics capture the players very naturally, with nicely present woodwinds and excellent balances between brass and strings. No qualms here: Go for it.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Just listen to the variations in tempi and dynamic of Luci serene e chiare. It’s the first track of this fourth volume in the excellent series of Gesualdo's madrigals from Delitiæ Musicæ under Marco Longhini on Naxos. To hear this is to appreciate how effective care and attention to every nuance should be when singing what is often seen as a dark corner of the Renaissance vocal repertoire.

It goes on that way: the six singers and keyboard player (Carmen Leoni) treat every piece by the usually only anthologised Gesualdo as its own gem. They approach each madrigal almost as if it were Gesualdo's only one. This could, admittedly, lead to a laboured and self-conscious style. It doesn't. The Italian group's familiarity with and obvious love of Gesualdo's world sees to that.

Instead, our response is anticipation for each next madrigal while thoroughly savouring the particularities of the one we're listening to. In a way this helps to create an understanding of the corpus of this aspect of Gesualdo's output … two more CDs from Naxos - to whom Delitiæ Musicæ is under exclusive contract - and the cycle will be complete.

The composer's Fourth Book of madrigals was published in Ferrara in 1596 and quickly achieved several further printings - including one in 1613 in Genova in partitura - a rare occurrence enabling singers to experience the music 'horizontally', line by musical line.

This Fourth Book was intended as a kind of atonement for the composer's (conviction for the) murder of his first wife, Donna Maria d'Avalos in 1590. In the Kingdom of Naples a husband had such a legal right in the case of infidelity. But, although Gesualdo faced no punishment from the legal system, he was ostracised and marginalised by his own community. What Longhini - who also produced the 'Urtext Edition' for these recordings - and his singers have achieved so well is a convincing set of performances. This graciously and genuinely blurs any distinction that we might make four hundred years later between heartfelt remorse on Gesualdo's part and what the Renaissance poet, playwright and composer was able to make using events from life as material for art.

In a way the tone, the weeping, the dourness, the (self-)deploring, above all the self-doubt must be taken as starting points for this beautiful and affecting music - not as something to be expressed in and by it. The creativity, the tight and effective matching of texts (mostly anonymous and by Guarini) to tonality and texture are what matter. They stand on their own. That's the approach which these performers so successfully take.

At the heart of the set is what at first sight appears a misfit: Sparge la morte al mio Signor [tr.12], the longest piece here at almost seven and a half minutes. In fact to transfer the remorse to images of the unjustly (with ambivalences) murdered Christ illuminates the complexity of Gesualdo's thinking in these works. The suggestion is clear … alongside remorse and torment should come forgiveness and some sort of 'settlement'. Indeed by the time we get to Arde il mio cor [tr.19], the darkness has lifted somewhat, though Delitiæ Musicæ's tempi are still slow, if a little less deliberate. Although those resounding bass notes of Walter Testolin are held for just as long and are as chilling, there is a sense of hope. Certainly the remaining three pieces look upward and let light in.

Nevertheless, overall we're not allowed to forget the trauma, the potential for trauma, the torment represented by (secular) love, and the totality of a soul so affected when subjected to such searing and unrelenting self-examination. Not once do the singers lay the mud or paste on too thickly. Nor do they overlook the innovative nature of the sonic impact of the poetry … dissonance, distortion, a little interruption of the metrical line and much expressive, more easily-flowing consonance between text, harpsichord and song. You can hear this in the fittingly final Il sol qual or piu splende [tr.22]. While the phrase 'tour de force' would be wrong because it would suggest the need for a more mighty and strenuous push than is necessary here, the achievement of Longhini with Delitiæ Musicæ is a considerable one.

Their tone is just right from first to last, their articulation, emphases and sense of seriousness yet neither drab nor spuriously sparkling are indeed delightful. There is, to be sure, little of the lighthearted and springing qualities which we often associate with some madrigals. The purpose and drive behind these interpretations makes them hugely successful.

The booklet that comes with the CD has useful background - particularly to the killing and its subsequent effect on Gesualdo. It contains all the texts in Italian with English translation. The acoustic is clear and not too resonant, though full of intensity in atmosphere. If you've already been attracted to this excellent series, don't hesitate to add this to the collection. It's also a convincing and sensitive enough set of performances to encourage you to start and explore the lot. The Fifth Book is eagerly awaited.

– Mark Sealey, MusicWeb International

Recording information: Il Palazzo reale di Caserta e i Borboni di Napoli, Cast (05/2007); Il Palazzo reale di Caserta e i Borboni di Napoli, Cast (11/2007).

Having been unimpressed with previous releases by Slatkin and the Lyon orchestra in music by Ravel and Berlioz, I am happy to report that the team finally rises to its potential in this enterprising disc of Saint-Saëns’ music for organ and orchestra. First, however, we need to discuss the organ, because this release is as much about that instrument as it concerns the orchestra. The Lyon auditorium houses the famous Paris Trocadero organ built by the illustrious Cavaillé-Coll in 1878. It was one of the first, and certainly the greatest, concert hall organ in its day. As presently restored, the instrument incorporates changes made in 1939 from a prior refurbishment, and so is not in its original condition, but it does still contain many of the imitative “orchestral” stops that made these “symphonic” organs so revolutionary for the period.

By the time noted organist Edwin Lemare made his transcription of the Danse macabre decades later, the concept of the symphonic organ had expanded to include complete divisions of (allegedly) string-toned pipes. Some of these were more successful than others at creating the proper illusion. Lemare’s own organ in Chattanooga, Tennessee, for example–recently restored–had both violin and cello vibrato, celeste and orchestral violin stops in its string division. None of these except the vibrato-producing celeste were present in the Trocadero instrument, and so organist Vincent Warnier has had to modify Lemare’s registration accordingly. This he has managed with great sensitivity, and his performance, while a touch on the slow side (inevitably, in order to keep the rhythms clean), is still remarkably convincing, and an excellent example of how a symphonic organ can be used to play highly entertaining transcriptions of basic repertoire.

Cyprès et Lauriers is a diptych consisting of an elegiac organ solo linked to an organ-and-orchestra finale. It’s not great Saint-Saëns, but its 13 minutes pass by enjoyably, and it gives the organist the opportunity to display his instrument’s power and coloristic subtleties equally well. It has to be said that the current restoration has created a very pleasant-sounding instrument, with few of those excessively reedy, nasal stops that we often hear in 19th century organs, especially in France. Some aficionados love that particular gravelly sonority, but I’m not one of them.

And so to the symphony. Slatkin has finally whipped the orchestra into shape and they deliver a very enjoyable performance. The first movement is basically unplayable if you take Saint-Saëns’ double-note rhythms seriously, and so most performances kind of mush them together, creating an atmosphere of generalized agitation. This works perfectly well, but Slatkin has his players really articulate the principal theme of the allegro, and while it robs the music of some of its potential excitement, the result is effective and expressively apt. The same rhythmic precision characterizes the scherzo, whose 6/8 theme begins on an upbeat, which often somehow degenerates in many performances (Ormandy’s on Sony, for example) to the point where the tune seems to enter on a downbeat. Not here.

As for the two movements with organ, the balances with the orchestra are very naturally caught by the Radio France engineers. The transfer to disc is a bit low level, so you really need to turn up the volume for the best effect, and there’s plenty of room around the instruments. You won’t be overwhelmed by the organ’s sonority–no 747 jet engine revving up for takeoff here–but that’s a good thing. You get music, not noise. The interplay between the orchestra and the organ is a constant source of delight, and the finale still builds to a truly rousing conclusion. Altogether this is a very pleasing and worthwhile release, and a belated vindication for Slatkin and the Lyon players.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

ALFANO Concerto for Violin, Cello, and Piano. Cello Sonata • Samuel Magill (vc); Scott Dunn (pn); Elmira Darvarova (vn) • NAXOS 8.570928 (60: 06)


These days Franco Alfano (1875–1954) is remembered more for his controversial and much maligned 1926 completion of Puccini’s Turandot than for his own well-crafted and often quite striking music. His career started promisingly. In 1904, his opera Risurrezione , based on Tolstoy’s last full-length novel, made him internationally famous (see Henry Fogel’s review in Fanfare 28:4). In 1918, he rose to the directorship of Liceo Musicale, Bologna, and two years later helped to found the society Musica Nova. His career remained on the ascendancy until 1926, when Toscanini’s de facto damnation of his completion of Turandot made him an odd man out in Italian music. Add to this that two of his contemporaries, Malipiero and Respighi, were changing the focus of Italian music from opera to purely instrumental, while Alfano continued doggedly in the operatic realm with Madonna imperia (1927), Cyrano de Bergerac (1936), Don Juan de Manara (1941), Il dottor Antonia (1949), Vesuvius (1950), and Sakùntala (1952). Then further add that Alfano was on favorable terms with Mussolini’s fascist government and one has a pretty good recipe for his subsequent obscurity.


Then there is the music itself, as illustrated by these two chamber works—soft edged, introspective, and quietly luminous in a most Debussian manner. Cellist Samuel Magill, in his liner notes to this release, points out that Alfano was half French (on his maternal side), and spent the years from 1899 until about 1905 in Paris, where he composed light music for the Folies Bergère. It is plain from these two pieces that he soaked up the atmosphere and found it most congenial. The earlier of these two works, the Cello Sonata, was commissioned in 1928 by Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge. It is a tour de force in its exploitation of the cello’s full compass and coloristic possibilities. The high A-string writing makes it seem a super violin, and the use of harmonics in combination with quiet sustaining pedaled piano figurations creates moments that would have made both Ravel and Debussy proud. It is a long and discursive work that opens serenely, as if to say “I will reveal a great mystery,” and then travels from the elementally abstract toward the more and more intelligible; unfathomable mystery gives way to unbridled passion, and then to a moment of sublime peace.


The Concerto for Violin, Cello, and Piano of 1932 is similar to the Cello Sonata, but given the third instrument, the violin, it is richer in tonal possibilities. Its opening revealing a kinship with Renaissance polyphony, indeed farther back than that, shows how easily those languages can dovetail into that of the French Impressionists. Alfano, like Bruckner and Brahms, was an antiquarian. In both of these works, Debussy’s idea that pure sonority should be an element of music equal with melody, harmony, and rhythm, is writ large.


All three performers are excellent and play with razor-edged accuracy, passion, and insight in these two world-premiere recordings. The recording, alas, is harsh in its upper register, requiring treble cut on my system, but, on the other hand, it reveals everything, as if under a microscope. The piano, however, is splendidly registered throughout.


FANFARE: William Zagorski

This album from Naxos' acclaimed Wind Band Classics series presents three highly contrasting new works. David Maslanka' Concerto for Trombone and Wind Ensemble is a heartfelt memorial to the late Christine Nield Capote, flutist, teacher and friend.

LISZT Polonaise from Yevgeney Onegin. Le Rossignol. Chanson bohémienne. Abschied. Mazurka. March from Russlan and Ludmilla. Prelude to the Borodin Polka. Russian Galop. Tarantella by César Cui. Slavic Tarentella by Dargomyzhsky. 2 Anton Rubinstein songs. Autrefois • Alexandre Dossin (pn) • NAXOS 572432 (66: 25)


The Naxos traversal of Liszt’s complete piano music, which began in 1997, has now reached its 35th volume with Alexandre Dossin playing a fascinating program of transcriptions of Russian composers. Dossin’s bona fides as a Liszt player of distinction were established with his 2007 contribution to the series, a disc devoted to the Verdi transcriptions and paraphrases. This new release shows him in wide-ranging repertoire, from salon trifles such as the Chanson bohémienne of Bulakhov, through the resplendent setting of the Polonaise from Tchaikovsky’s Yevgeny Onegin , to the heartrending Abschied (Farewell), a simple song setting for Liszt’s beloved pupil Siloti.


The chief interest of this repertoire, however, is not its variety, but its chronology. Five of the transcriptions—those based on music of Alyabyev, Bulakhov, Glinka, and Vielgorsky—are souvenirs of Liszt’s Russian tours of the 1840s. The isolated Mazurka “composed by a St. Petersburg amateur,” possibly Vielgorsky, dates from 1856, during Liszt’s Weimar years. The remainder—including the Tchaikovsky Polonaise and the Borodin, Dargomyzhsky, and Cui transcriptions as well as the two Rubinstein songs—were all set by Liszt in 1880 or later. In other words, these final seven transcriptions are products of the last six years of Liszt’s life and thus contemporaneous with such late-style works as Czárdás macabre , the Hungarian Historical Portraits, Bagatelle without Tonality, Unstern!, and the several pieces memorializing Wagner.


The Polonaise from Onegin , easily the most familiar work on the disc, is given an extrovert reading that highlights its profusion of opulent pianistic detail without obscuring the overall structure and momentum of the dance. Dossin’s interpretation readily holds its own beside those older, famous ones of Cziffra and Ponti, and perhaps surpasses them in its unforced poise and characteristic voice. Dossin approaches Alyabyev’s The Nightingale , set by Liszt as a veritable mini-Russian rhapsody, with intelligence and finesse. Meanwhile, the quirky Circassian March from Glinka’s Russlan and Ludmilla, a virtuoso tour de force , fairly explodes with rhythmic acrobatics and kaleidoscopic colors.


The two tarantellas by Dargomyzhsky and Cui are particularly intriguing, reminding us that, during the 1860s, Liszt and Dargomyzhsky were among the first composers to experiment (independently) with use of the whole-tone scale—Dargomyzhsky in his opera The Stone Guest and Liszt in his melodrama Der traurige Mönch. Both tarantellas exemplify Liszt’s tendency in old age to transform the materials he transcribed, imbuing them with the radical harmonic and rhythmic characteristics of his own late style. In many cases, and certainly in these tarantellas, the originals are endowed with a “new formal and authorial weight,” as Jonathan Kregor has suggested in his pathbreaking study, Liszt as Transcriber (2010). Dargomyzhsky had been dead 10 years when his unprepossessing piano duet Slavic Tarantella was taken up by Liszt and expanded into a haunting and concert-worthy piano solo. The longest piece on the program is the Tarantella by César Cui , possibly Liszt’s very last transcription of another composer’s work. Kregor points out that Cui’s orchestral original had been in circulation for more than 25years when Liszt decided to transcribe it. Liszt expands, emends, and amplifies the material in a way that elevates this folk dance to a veritable metaphysical realm. If proof were needed that the acuity of Liszt’s perceptions and the richness of his imagination remained undiminished to the end, the Tarantella by César Cui provides ample testimony.


It is hard to imagine a more eloquent spokesman for this repertoire than Dossin. Though he is by birth and upbringing Brazilian, the nine years he spent studying in Moscow lend an unmistakable authenticity to his voice in Russian music. Moreover, Dossin’s refined and multifaceted pianism, combined with his formidable intellectual and musical grasp, make him one of the more remarkable Liszt interpreters before the public today.


FANFARE: Patrick Rucker

Together with Johann Simon Mayr, Ferdinando Paër counts as one of the most important opera composers of his day, and he was unable to resist filling his oratorio on Christ’s Passion, Il Santo Sepolcro with expressive extremes. Pain and grief contrast with joy and hope, and scenes including the terrible hours of the crucifixion, frenzy of the crowd, resurrection and Last Judgment are given potently descriptive music. Originally a prelude to Haydn’s Seven Last Words, Mayr’s Invito is a call to hear Paër’s incomparable narrative.

Handel’s violin sonatas have been staples of the repertoire for generations, but there has been considerable confusion about their authenticity. Early editorial practice saw to it that several authentic works were published for instruments such as flute and oboe, but more recent scholarship has established that originally they were written for the violin. All the sonatas are full of Handel’s dashing bravura and his gift for expressive slow movements, providing a series of beautifully proportioned masterpieces. Ariadne Daskalakis’s recording of the Tartini Violin Concertos (8.570222) was welcomed with acclaim for its ‘grace and lyrical poetry’. (MusicWeb International)

RODE Violin Concertos: No. 7; No. 10; No. 13 • Friedemann Eichhorn (vn); Nicolás Pasquet, cond; Southwest German RO Kaiserlautern • NAXOS 8.570469 (58:00)


Pierre Rode (1774–1830) and Rodolphe Kreutzer (1766–1831) are well known to all serious students of the violin for their technique building exercises in the form of etudes and caprices. Of the same generation were Viotti (1755–1824) with his 29 violin concertos and Pierre Baillot (1771–1842) with his L’art du violon . But they were all outdone, if not undone, by their near contemporary from Genoa, Niccolò Paganini (1782–1840). These were the standard bearers of two competing schools of violin-playing and pedagogy, one Italian, the other Franco-Belgian. Kreutzer, despite his German-sounding name, and Rode were French, as was Baillot, and their approach to the instrument would lead to Vieuxtemps and through him to Wieniawski and thence to Ysaÿe. Paganini, on the other hand, was a tough act to follow. Other than Ernesto Camillo Sivori, Paganini’s sole pupil, the only violinist-composer of note to continue in the Italian’s footsteps was the Jewish Moravian Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst (1814–1865).


Not that casual acquaintance with the works of any of these violin wizards would reveal in any obvious way the more subtle differences in the application of their practices, for envelope-pushing, finger- and bow-bending, exhibitionistic virtuosity was the order of the day and the name of the game. The never-ending pursuit of one-upmanship superseded all else; the impossible was unplayable only until it was surpassed by the next even greater impossibility. An “I’ll show you,” attitude prevailed. Yet, for all its warping of musical values, the extension of the possible in violin technique opened the door to composers who were able to incorporate those technical advances into major, serious works. I doubt that the violin concertos of Mendelssohn, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Sibelius, and others could have been written had these earlier 19th-century virtuosos not provided the necessary tools.


Though Rode studied with Viotti, he later worked with Kreutzer and Baillot at the Paris Conservatory, contributing to the school’s official Violin Method . The French “way” mitigated some of the less graceful aspects of the Italian approach by introducing a greater refinement of tone production through smoother bowing and phrasing techniques. Some insight into this can be gained from a rather unlikely source: Beethoven. Rode’s 1812–13 concert tour brought him to Vienna, and it was for the violinist’s appearances there that Beethoven composed his last violin sonata, the No. 10 in G-Major. During its composition, the composer was in contact with Rode regarding his preferred style of playing. We know this from a letter Beethoven wrote to Archduke Rudolph, complaining, “We like to have more surging passages in our finales, but R did not consent to that.” Unusual for Beethoven to yield to anyone in matters musical, but we have in this sonata a clear example of the more elegant, aristocratic style that Rode and the French school preferred.


In addition to his coauthorship of the aforementioned Violin Method and his 24 Caprices so well beloved (?) by students, Rode composed 13 violin concertos, none of which has found favor among present day players. In this, Rode has ceded the playing field to his teacher, Viotti, whose concertos—at least some of them—are performed and recorded with relative frequency. This recent Naxos CD is in fact the only recording currently listed of any of Rode’s concertos, and I sincerely hope that its release changes that, for the works on this disc are, in my opinion, more appealing and of greater musical substance than are any of Viotti’s concertos I’ve heard, and that includes his famous No. 22 in A Minor recorded many times over.


No one who listens to these Rode concertos will be disappointed by a lack of virtuoso fireworks. There’s enough double-stopping, rapid runs, and bowing tricks to satisfy even the most insatiable appetites for hire-wire circus acts. But there is also a depth and breadth to Rode’s muse, and a sophisticated air to his melodic invention that elicits a strong emotional response and strikes a genuine responsive chord. Simply put, there is some exquisitely beautiful music here. And Friedemann Eichhorn, who is new to me, plays with a sweetness of tone and expressiveness of phrasing that grace Rode’s exceptional lyricism with the delicacy of a caress, all the while skirting the technical minefields as if they didn’t exist. Nowhere does Eichhorn’s tone turn coarse or his bowing become labored, even in the most fiendishly difficult passages. This is violin-playing of a caliber to match this extraordinary music. In a single stroke, Eichhorn and Naxos have done for Rode (and for us) what should have been done long ago. It’s my fervent hope that they will see fit to give us Rode’s remaining 10 concertos.


No fancier of the violin should be without this disc. It may even show up on my 2009 Want List.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

S. MAYR David in the Cave of Engedi • Franz Hauk (hpd, cond); Merit Ostermann ( David ); Cornelia Horak ( Saul ); Ai Ichihara ( Michal ); Sibylla Duffe ( Jonathan ); Claudia Schneider ( Abner ); Simon Mayr Chorus & Ens • NAXOS 8.570366 (2 CDs: 94:13)


The Bavarian-born Johannes Simon Mayr (1763–1845) is probably most often remembered as the teacher and mentor of Donizetti. Until recently, his own works—more than 60 operas, some 600 liturgical compositions, as well as chamber music and symphonies—have been the realm of specialists. At 24 he abandoned studies in philosophy and law at the University of Ingolstadt to pursue a musical career in Italy. He studied first in Bergamo, then with Bertoni in Venice, where he began writing operas. The second he composed for La Fenice in 1796 was so successful that Mayr became much sought after in the world of Italian opera. The next year, his operas were produced in Vienna, and performances in other European capitals and in the U.S. followed. Despite lucrative offers from Paris, St. Petersburg, Lisbon, Dresden, and London, Mayr preferred to remain in Italy. He settled in Bergamo, establishing a music school, spearheading philanthropies to benefit musicians, and becoming an important champion of the Viennese style south of the Alps.


Mayr wrote his fascinating oratorio David in spelunca Engaddi (“David in the Cave of Engedi”) during his first creative blossoming. It was destined for one of the four Venetian ospedali , those institutions for orphaned or indigent girls where, earlier in the century, Vivaldi had been employed. Characteristically for a work commissioned by the Ospedale dei Mendicanti, its five solo roles, as well as the chorus, are all treble voices. The libretto by Foppa is based on scenes from Samuel I. King Saul is jealous of David, hero of Israel’s wars against the Philistines and tries to kill him. Saul’s son Jonathan and daughter Michal help David, who is able to stay one step ahead of Saul’s operatives. In the wilderness of Engedi, David comes upon Saul asleep in a cave. Though David has ample cause to kill Saul, he spares the king’s life. David’s display of loyalty reconciles Saul with his anointed successor as King of Israel. Though it’s difficult to say what is most striking about this masterful work, certainly character delineation in each principal role is unusually acute. Through the course of the oratorio, their characters develop with a psychological complexity rare in the genre, particularly in the late 18th century. The vocal writing is superb, florid, idiomatic, and deftly evokes the affects of the text.


Despite its economy of means, the choral writing, mostly in two parts, is extremely effective. And in a proto-Wagnerian sense, the orchestra almost becomes a character, its traditional role of accompaniment significantly expanded. Mayr is a deft and resourceful orchestrator. The brief Sinfonia that prefaces the first part of the oratorio is a little gem, worthy of the young Mozart. The Sinfonia that introduces part II, on the other hand, lasts more than five minutes, a virtual one-movement concerto grosso in Classical garb. Bassoons, oboes, horns and, above all, the harp (David’s instrument) interact with the orchestra in brilliant concertante style. Franz Hauk assembled an uncommonly strong group of soloists, each of whom meets Mayr’s vocal and dramatic demands with artistry and sophistication. Chorus and orchestra respond with ensemble cohesion to Hauk’s imaginative direction. The slow sound decay in the Assam Church of Maria de Victoria in Ingolstadt contributes to the near perfect acoustic ambiance with little blurring of detail. Informative notes are contributed by Iris Winkler, though listeners wishing to follow the text must download a 28-page libretto from the Naxos Web site.


Mayr has long been acknowledged as a key transitional figure between 18th- and 19th-century opera, and a potent influence on Rossini as well as Donizetti. But lately, signs of a fully-fledged revival keep cropping up. Opera Rara, the English company, has three complete Mayr operas in its catalog: Ginevra di Scozia (OR 23) and two productions of Medea in Corinto (OR 11 and OR 215). Cantatas (including one on the death of Beethoven) may be heard on Naxos 8.557958 and the oratorio La passione along with a Stabat mater setting are available on Guild 7251. In the instrumental realm, two of Mayr’s piano concertos may be sampled on Tactus 761301. The strong, nuanced performances that breathe life into David in spelunca Engaddi provide a strong argument for further exploration of Mayr’s imaginative and powerful music. They also suggest that a Mayr revival would be welcome and, perhaps, long overdue.


FANFARE: Patrick Rucker

Organ music holds a special affection for leading UK composer Judith Bingham, and the repertoire in this programme reflects a cross-section of her themes and work both recently composed and newly arranged.

Conan the Barbarian is a 1982 adventure film, directed and co-written by John Milius. It was his intention to create an opera in the form of a film. Since the opera contains very little dialogue, he used the music to support the story line. The music composed by Basil Poledouris (1945-2006) conveys a sense of power and energy but also expresses many tender moments. The superb Glatter-G�tz/Rosales organ in Claremont, California was designed to inspire creativity and innovation, and Philipp Pelster's vision in making a complete film-score transcription especially for the unique possibilities of this instrument transforms the orchestral colors of the original to generate a completely new and richly rewarding musical experience.

Although Couperin is best known today as a composer of harpsichord music, he remained deeply involved in chamber music throughout his career. Les Nations is a vast project in which the virtues of both the French and Italian styles are set next to each other. Each of the four ordres celebrates a Catholic power of Europe – France, Spain, the Holy Roman Empire, and the Savoy dynasty of Piedmont – and each is a combination of an Italianate trio sonata, with its free-form virtuosity, and a large-scale and elaborate French dance suite. Juilliard Baroque brings together some of the world’s most respected and accomplished early music instrumentalists for this invigorating program.

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Review:

All eight players are totally absorbed in the style. Their often dense ornamentation never sounds calculated or contrived; their rhythmic flow in slower movements has a captivating insouciance, relaxed, gently fluid. This is French playing that would be hard to better.

– BBC Music Magazine

The Emory Symphonic Winds, comprised of members of the Emory Wind Ensemble and the Atlanta Youth Wind Symphony, are American leaders in the commissioning of new music. Bruce Broughton’s In the World of Spirits was dedicated to the ensemble and is a work of action, dynamism and electric physicality. Christmas carols and hymns are explored by Gustav Holst while Jennifer Higdon charts the intangible beauty of music itself. Alfred Reed’s Russian Christmas Music is a classic of symphonic band writing: rich, colorful and sonorous.

Innovative music printer Pierre Attaingnant published the first editions of keyboard music ever to appear in France in 1531. Only one copy of each of these seven tiny but crucially important volumes has survived, in which anonymous composers made arrangements of some of the most beautiful chansons, motets and dances from the reign of Francois I- keyboard music that shows France at the forefront of developments in this field. Glen Wilson has corrected the countless errors in these original sources, restoring this rare and enchanting music and allowing it to shine in it's original glory.

Capriccio Encore is a series of re-releases of the most famous recordings from Capriccio’s back catalogue, fully re-mastered and competitively priced. The legendary recordings of artists such as Sandor Végh, Ton Koopman, Sir Neville Marriner and the Vienna Boys’ Choir also contain repertoire highlights that have a particularly special appeal, from the baroque to the present day. This Encore release's highlight is Luigi Cherubini's Coronation Mass Krönungsmesse, performed by Kölner Rundfunkchor and Capella Coloniensis.

One of the most recognized wind bands in the United States, the Ohio State University Wind Symphony, conducted by Russel C. Mikkelson, has been a strong advocate for the composition of new works for wind band. This album by the ensemble features the title track, Network, as the explosive album opener. Following are works by Benjamin Britten, Gustav Mahler, and Steven Bryant. Soprano Katherine Rohrer is featured for Mahler’s Um Mitternacht.

Joan Tower's chamber music has much the same emotional intensity and gestural ferocity as her orchestral works. Her primarily angular harmonic language, with its predominantly dissonant cast, evokes a sense of agitation bordering on rage--something most apparent in Wild Purple for solo viola (played with conviction and arresting virtuosity by Paul Neubauer). Like many Tower works, In Memory (in a stunning rendition by the Tokyo String Quartet) begins quietly--the violin's first notes are almost imperceptible--then builds to a gripping climax. The music's emotions are particularly raw and acute, as the composer was inspired by the death of a close friend, and then the 9/11 attacks that occurred shortly after.


Big Sky for piano trio (persuasively performed by Tower, along with Chee-Yun and Andre Emelianoff) has somewhat softer contours. It begins and ends in a subdued, melancholy atmosphere, while the climactic central section jars with its abrupt syncopations fleshed out in robust, quasi-romantic piano writing.


Island Prelude is the most surprising piece in this collection, as it features passages of genuine consonance and even lyricism, as well as some characterful writing for solo oboe (featuring the expert Richard Woodhams with the Tokyo String Quartet). Of course, all of this is woven into Tower's free-flowing, volatile musical style, which quite often catches you off-guard--the very thing that makes her music compelling.


No Longer Very Clear is a set of four piano pieces, the titles of which are lines taken from the John Ashbery poem of the same name. This very intimate encounter with Tower's art reveals a composer of imagination and ingenuity, and one who possesses a profound emotional sensitivity. The piano writing is brilliant and ranges from Scriabinesque passion to the mystery and exotic beauty found in Messiaen. Ursula Oppens (in the first two pieces) and Melvin Chen (in the remainder) both offer powerfully evocative performances. The recordings are uniformly excellent in both the chamber and solo settings. This release marks an important document of the composer, and a fine addition to Naxos' American Classics series. [9/16/2005]
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com