“One of the most important advantages that the Luxembourg citizen has when abroad is that linguistically and culturally we embrace both the German and the French cultures...This gives a Luxemburger, particularly one active in the arts or the cultural environment, a different outlook and approach,” suggested Luxembourg composer Alexander Müllenbach in an interview. Perhaps it is this different perspective, the quite individual, open approach, that Françoise Groben herself had, a quality that she brought to her performance of German and French compositions for the cello. And it is for that reason that Banque Générale de Luxembourg placed at her disposal an exquisite instrument built by Matteo Goffriller in 1695.

Françoise Groben was born in Luxembourg on December 4, 1965. She received her first lessons in the cello at the age of five at the city’s Conservatoire, studying there with Francine Weber-Deprelle, Jean Join und Georges Mallach. She eventually completed her studies with Boris Pergamenschikov at the Cologne Musikhochschule, graduating in her concert examination, while continuing to attend master classes given by such artists as Daniil Shafran in Moscow or William Pleeth in London, or by the Amadeus Quartet. From 1974 onwards she was a member of the ensemble Les Musiciens founded by her father, Joseph Groben, and was only 15 when she first played in the Youth Orchestra of the European Union, going on to perform under such conductors as Claudio Abbado, Daniel Barenboim, Herbert von Karajan and Georg Solti. The recordings collected here illustrate the entire spectrum of Françoise Groben’s artistic interests, demonstrating that she was not only a leading soloist but also a gifted and coveted chamber musician who regularly included pieces by Luxembourg composers in her programs and was strongly committed to contemporary female composers.

One hundred years of Romanticism, about sixty years of postromanticism and another sixty of filologic research and adhesion to "original versions" of past musical compositions got used to us badly.
Romanticism conditioned us to think that what was written by the hand of a composer has to be untouchable, a sacred document that's perfect like it is; postromanticism convinced us that this idea had to be applied to any artwork, even the ones that were written before the '800s; lastly, the meritorious and sacrosanct philologic enforcement to the research of the 'original text' have definitely forced us to believe that the only 'original version' of a composition is the one that reproduces exactly the text, recovered with all the tricks modern and performed with instruments as close as possible to the 'original' instruments of the time in which the composition was, in fact, composed.
These three elements, put together, even if they seem contradictory to each other, actually go to form a perfect storm, a kind of explosive mixture that makes people look askance artistic achievements such as the one proposed by the program of this CD.
But fortunately, for some, very little indeed, time, we have awakened from these paths so tremendously binding, starting right from the end, from the last step. And so 'historically informed' executions, those in which, that is, the performers tell you “I know very well that I am playing with a modern instrument an ancient music, but I also know that…”.
Music has always been there, especially chamber music, which is done at home, among friends with the mere pleasure of playing together, is written for variable organics. And even if we find the name of one or more instruments on the title page of the critical edition, the author is actually giving the eventual executor only an 'executive suggestion', as if he was telling us: “check the range of your instrument, and if with it you can play the notes that are written, this song is for you”. Be it melodies or accompaniment chords. This has always been the meaning of chamber music. Making music together for someone to listen to, or just for the pleasure of making it.
Maria Chiara Mazzi

This new release is a brilliant collection of chamber music works by Polish composer Józef Elsner and his disciples Józef Władyslaw Krogurski and Ignatzi Felix Dobzinski. Known as Chopin's teacher, Elsner was also active as a violinist and conductor, and was also a renowned educator. He established the Warsaw Conservatory and taught excellent composers. On this release, enjoy a number of very beautiful works by these early Polish Romantic composers. Also notable is the participation of Yakubu Kushrik, a virtuoso who won the 4th place (the highest Polish person in the competition), which is the same as Aimi Kobayashi at the 18th Chopin International Piano Competition in 2021

Society of Composers, Inc. presents 10 works from boundary-defying composers on TRANSITION AND APOTHEOSIS, the 35th installment of their celebrated Composers’ Series.

"Carnyx" by Chris Arrell employs the carnyx, the ceremonial and battle trumpet used by Iron Age Celts, to conjure the terror of an army encroaching through the morning mist.

Jiyoun Chung’s "Scissors" is a fantasia-toccata for solo piano inspired by the traditional Korean Scissors dance.

"24/7" by Yunfei Li honors the healthcare professionals who served on the frontlines of the COVID-19 pandemic.

"Transition and Apotheosis" from Mike McFerron is a multichannel fixed media piece that maps Danish composer Per Nørgård’s “infinity sequence” to sound elements.

Paul Lombardi’s "Unwoven" incorporates the fractal-like technique used in his past pieces to startling new effects.

Robert McClure’s "struggling in excess" decries the vast amounts of waste humans produce on a daily basis.

"glass, evaporate[d]" from to?-dr?-'ki is a hauntingly beautiful reimagining of 2019’s "lips evaporate".

William Price’s "Sans Titre VII (B)" is a modified variation-rondo that explores the wide range, technical agility, and unique extended techniques offered by the saxophone.

"Der Saus und Braus" by Joseph Klein is the sixteenth in a series of short works for solo instruments based on characters in Elias Canetti’s "Der Ohrenzeuge: Fünfzig Charaktere" (Earwitness: Fifty Characters).

Finally, Ania Vu’s "Tik-Tak" sets the composer’s Polish poem to remind us of the relentless flow of time.

SCI renews its decades-long mission to promote and disseminate contemporary music in this Navona Records release.

On the coasts of the Atlantic, sparrows whistle atop the trees, Eastern winds whisper through spartina grasses, and fiddler crabs skitter within their sandy burrows — a great symphony of shorelines soon to be left incomplete. As rising sea levels continue to threaten coastal reefs, shores, and the hundreds of lifeforms inhabiting them, the Coastal Conservatory urges us to consider our efforts of restoration and offers us an avenue for restoring coastal futures, a meditation on the music of the most integral barriers to the ever-pressing Atlantic. SOUNDSCAPES OF RESTORATION is both an exploration and a reflection, a listening experience that leaves one changed with the desire to make change further. It is a journey that cannot, and should not, be forgotten.

In Kurtág’s works for solo flute or in ensemble, we find all the characteristic features of his musical language: the theatricality of the musical gesture and expressive value of the interval; the connection with the word and its intonation; the symmetrical writing through expansions and contractions of individual ideas, the aphoristic and fragmentary writing; the reworking of material and self-quotation. Moreover, these pieces show a humanistic approach, where music, while avoiding any consolatory intent, becomes memory, communication, and sign of affection.

Over a century of captivating French music for the flute, from Mélanie Bonis (1858-1937) to Élise Bertrand (b.2000), including a premiere on disc. From the shepherds-pipe dances of Lully to the pan-flute of Debussy’s faun and beyond, French music has always had a special affinity with the flute. Anna Wierer explores some lesser-known byways of this rich repertoire with her new album, which promises ‘Révélations’ galore. She begins with Lili Boulanger’s evocation of a spring morning, as full of new life as a field of young lambs. Among her contemporaries was Pierre Camus, a student of Fauré: his Chanson et Badinerie presents a pair of contrasting miniatures characteristic of late French Romanticism; the first melancholic and songful, the second lively and of sweeping lightness. The most extended work here is the four-movement Sonata by Mélanie Bonis, known in her time as the androgynous Mel so that her music would not be judged as inferior to a man’s: and indeed the sumptuous modal-oriental harmonies and idiomatic writing for both instruments place it in the front rank of French flute sonatas. A century on, Bonis’s music has belatedly won a place in the modern repertoire – by contrast, Élise Bertrand is at the beginning of a promising career. She composed her Impressions Liturgiques Op.2 at the age of 15, inspired by Maurice Duruflé's Requiem. Dating from 1946, Pierre Sancan’s Sonatine floats in on the breeze as a piece of postwar escapism, as light and sensuous as the creation of a master patissier. Finally, Anna Wierer and Alina Pronina turn to the more complex world of André Jolivet, whose Chant de Linos (1944) shares a theme of antiquity with Debussy’s Prelude but explores a darker, more troubled landscape over the course of its ten eventful minutes. This is the second Brilliant Classics album from the well-established duo of Anna Wierer and Alina Pronina, following on the success of their debut release in 2021, of flute music by the Ukrainian composer Dmitri Tchesnokov. Anna Wierer is the director of the BellClassic Music Academy and the Klangfabrik Music School in Berlin; Kyiv-born Alina Pronina likewise has settled in Berlin, but the duo has given concerts together across Germany and farther afield.

The cycle of Nine Preludes, Op. 1 gained recognition already two years before its official release. In 1904, Arthur Rubinstein – fascinated by the first contact with the Preludes, as well as with several other compositions of his later friend – used the following words to describe them: ‘This music indeed touched my deepest emotions; I have not experienced anything similar since the discovery of Chopin. Who is that man? Where does he live? Where is he now? I need to meet him!’ Undoubtedly, op. 1 can be considered the first great showcase of Karol Szymanowski’s talent. In each of the miniatures, a smooth synthesis of Romantic influences and harmonic and textural procedures typical of many of the composer’s works occurs. These works are beautifully performed by flutist Agata Igras and pianist Mariusz Rukowski.

François Devienne (1759–1803) was a contemporary of Mozart and one of the few virtuosos who didn’t have to flee his own country to get noticed. Born in Joinville, France, the youngest of the 14 children of a saddle maker, Devienne received his formative musical instruction as a choirboy in his hometown and quickly developed into a flute player of formidable gifts, studying with Felix Rault. He was active in Paris as a flautist, bassoonist and composer and played bassoon at the Paris Opera. He was also a sergeant and member of the Military Band of the French Guard, where he was given the responsibility of teaching his military band colleagues’ children in its Free School of Music. After the Revolutionary period, when the Free School became the National Institute of Music, later chartered as the Paris Conservatory in 1795, Devienne was appointed as flute professor, where he taught from 1795 to 1803. He also wrote the Méthode de Flûte Théorique et Pratique (1793), which was reprinted several times and did much to improve the level of French wind music in the late 18th century.

His output includes opera, extensive educational work, and approximately 300 instrumental works that were mostly written for wind instruments. There are about 20 flute concertos, mainly written for his own use, and many of his works are still popular today in standard flute repertoire. His VII Concerto in E minor, for example, contains all the poetry and aesthetics of his music – it is quintessentially beautiful, charming, melodious and witty. Devienne's compositions for flute, revived by Jean-Pierre Rampal in the 1960s, became well-known among flutists. Unfortunately, Devienne’s fortunes declined suddenly in the new century and he died in 1803, four months after being committed to the Charenton insane asylum.

The Six duos Op.2 were written in 1786 for the captain of the guard of the Artois Count. They are a collection of six duos for two flutes, each of them divided into two movements. The general atmosphere exuded throughout the set is playful, fresh and bright, possibly because of the absence of the slow and thoughtful second movement that traditionally would have been placed between the first and last allegros. There is no shortage of singable and lyrical melodies, though: the Gracioso con Variatione, the second movement of the third duet, is a prime example. The movement markings chosen by Devienne are primarily Allegro, Rondeau, Gracioso and Menuetto. Every tempo mark is set between a moderate and a fast, lively tempo, in order to develop either the lyrical themes or display the shimmering virtuosity of the flutes. In fact, it seems that the composer’s aim was to make the listener feel like there is only one flute playing instead of two: the sound, the articulation and the phrasing of each must be as similar to one another as possible. Needless to say, these are the greatest difficulties to deal with for the musicians. Furthermore, the pieces were written to accompany the lives of the aristocracy, for example celebrations and tea parties, which is why this kind of music is also called ‘salon music’. The two flutists made their recording using the first edition sheet music published by Sieber in Paris, c.1786.

Bruno Maderna always ascribed great importance to insight and imagination, even during the period in which he followed the most rigorous serial procedures. Maderna’s preference for concreteness in sound images, his practical approach to composition problems, and his receptiveness to language diversity explain the extraordinary ascendancy he had over the Italian composers who visited Darmstadt in the Fifties and Sixties, including Nono, Berio, Donatoni, and Clementi. But they also explain his gradual withdrawal from the most radical experiments of the avantgarde, and his tendency, during the last decade, to pursue a constant osmosis between different styles and materials (also through frequent overflows between his own compositions), often ending up in theatrical forms.

The Hyperion has been described as a “Lyric in the form of a show”. It was presented in its first version as a mobile cycle of vocal, orchestral and electronic pieces based on fragments of Friedrich Hoelderlin’s novel "Hyperion, oder der Heremit in Griechenland" (“Hyperion, or the Hermit in Greece”), the only novel written by the German poet. This book, an epistolary novel, was published in various versions, so it somehow could be regarded as a “work in progress” too. This recording represents an important document of the live version, reduced and adapted by the great actor Carmelo Bene, flanked by the RAI Symphony Orchestra from Milan, directed by Maestro Marcello Panni.

Final volume in the first-ever complete recorded cycle of symphonies by Talivaldis Keninš (1919–2008), one of the most prominent post-WW2 composers in Latvia and Canada. This album includes three of the composer’s eight numbered symphonies performed by the Latvian National Symphony Orchestra under Andris Poga.

Although born in Latvia, Keninš lived most of his life as an exile. He was educated in Paris, where he studied under Tony Aubin and Olivier Messiaen, and won several awards. Keninš emigrated to Canada in 1951 and became a respected pedagogue and a very influential figure in Canada’s music life. Alongside his eight symphonies, the composer also wrote 12 concertos. However, he also included many concertante elements in his symphonies and the Symphony No. 2, “Sinfonia concertante” (1967), scored for three wind instruments and symphony orchestra, is very close to a triple concerto. The symphony’s extensive second movement is based on a lullaby of the Mi’kmaq First Nations people. Symphony No. 3 (1970) was completed few years after its predecessor and is a step forward in the composer’s journey as a symphonist. Here we encounter the idea of a lyrical hero, which, in the ears of the listener, could be personified. Although many consider Kenins’ 8th Symphony to be his symphonic climax, the 7th Symphony (1980) is by no means a lesser work: it could be even considered as one of the composer’s most personal and intimate creations. The symphony ends with an aria based on a text by the composer’s father and the atmosphere of the work seems to stem from the composer’s emotional trauma on the occupation of his native Latvia by the Soviet troops.

REVIEW:

Ķeniņš composed his first symphony when he was forty and almost a decade elapsed before he turned to the genre again. However, his Symphony No 2 “Sinfonia concertante” does not strictly adhere to any symphonic mould. That the composer had a trio of wind instruments as some sort of a concertino tends to show that he was not completely sure of how to tackle that form again. This also shows is the lay-out of the piece, i.e three movements of strongly contrasting character as well as weight. In fact, the whole weight of the symphony lies in the long central movement whereas the brief opening Lento and the equally brief final Molto animato e marcato merely function as a prelude and epilogue of some sort. Moreover, the central Molto moderato: Tema e variazioni is twice as long as the two other movements put together. The weighty central movement is cast as a theme and variations on a lullaby of the Mi’kmaq First Nations people which the composer also used in his Suite in D major for organ. Anyone interested in what the Mi’kmaq First Nations people may be referred to Wikipedia for it all seems a rather long story. The variation movement of the Second Symphony is an impressive piece of music in which Kenins’ contrapuntal mastery is already fully displayed.

The Symphony No 3 is Ķeniņš’ first large-scale work for large symphony orchestra and again the composer demonstrates his assurance in his handling of form and counterpoint. The central movement Lento inquieto, though shorter than that of the Second Symphony, is again the emotional heart of the piece but it is nevertheless counterbalanced by two outer movements of fairly equal length but of quite different character. Georgs Pelēcis is quoted in Orets Silabriedis’ excellent notes as saying that “Kenins rejects seemingly essential symphony ingredients, such as the sonata form. That does not appear in any of the three movements … only one main theme is developed in each movement, and they are all interrelated. The unifying element is the rich chromatic intonations …”. The Third Symphony is clearly a work by a composer in full command of his aims and means, which shows in the way that the composer handles polyphony – an essential component of his music making. The first and second movements end with uncertainty, preparing for what is to follow, but the final movement Molto animato e brioso ends with an assertive gesture. As Silabriedis puts it: “I am responsible for everything that I have said and done”. (Incidentally, one might be reminded of RVW, whose Fourth Symphony also ends abruptly with a fist banging on a table and a door brutally slammed.

The Symphony No 7 “Symphony in the form of a Passacaglia” is scored for large orchestra and a mezzo-soprano in the final aria. Half the duration of the piece is purely orchestral and cast as a fully developed Passacaglia capped, so to say, by a short Allegro molto before the final aria for mezzo-soprano on a poem by the composer’s father, Atis Ķeniņš (1874–1961), who was also a statesman and one of the founders of the Republic of Latvia in 1919. The poem must have had a particularly personal resonance for the composer. “The mezzo-soprano solo links the composer more tightly with his family roots, expresses itself in more trusting and optimistic feelings; however, the unease in the harmonies and rhythm likely cannot hide the composer’s fears about out era. The concluding epilogue is like an Agnus Dei. The finale should express hope and faith, which stands over life’s troubles, soothing our darkest predictions, and suppressing our fears” (the composer’s words quoted in Silabriedis’ notes). The text, as translated in the booklet, may seem somewhat dated but has now acquired some new relevance in our troubled times and the symphony now carries a most welcome and needed appeal for peace. Nonetheless, Ķeniņš’ Seventh Symphony is quite an impressive piece of music in its own right and its “message” (if such there is) may be heard by any man of goodwill.

This final installment in Ondine’s Ķeniņš cycle has been carefully prepared and is as immaculately performed as the preceding ones. These are committed performances throughout, in excellent sound, up to Ondine’s best standards and Orests Silabriedis’ notes are excellent.

Ķeniņš’ symphonic cycle is on a par with other largely forgotten similar cycles that would probably have remained ignored or little known, were it not for brave and enterprising recording companies who have invested in similar projects. Examples that immediately come to mind are BIS’ recordings of Tubin’s symphonies and the hopefully ongoing Wordsworth cycle by Toccata. One cannot but hope that ventures such as these will encourage others to follow suit.

Ķeniņš’ music is too good to be ignored and these performances do it full justice; I am sure that they will play a part in securing his music its deserved status.

-- MusicWeb International

After Haydn composed The Seven Last Words for chamber orchestra as a devotional accompaniment to the Good Friday liturgy at Cadiz Cathedral in 1786, several other arrangements were made during his lifetime, by himself and others, all of them familiar to us now: as an oratorio with soloists and chorus, and in string quartet and solo keyboard transcriptions. The cycle continued to attract arrangers after Haydn’s death. In the course of researching them, the flautist Rafael Ruibérriz de Torres turned up a manuscript by Francisco Asenjo Barbieri, who transcribed it for flute and string quartet in 1840 – perhaps as a compositional exercise at the behest of his teacher, Ramon Carnicer, who had recently produced a flute quintet of his own. In any case, Barbieri’s arrangement presents a Romantic-era conception of Haydn’s work in which the flute part acquires the same importance as the other instruments, lending color and brilliance to the quartet parts. At points the flute line plays in unison with one or other of the strings (almost throughout Sonata II, for example), but elsewhere his melodic and contrapuntal contributions are woven into the fabric of Haydn’s score with masterly technique and no small measure of creative inspiration.

The first ever attempt to present the Brandenburg Concertos in accordance with Baroque tradition. The pioneering early Berlin recordings conducted with élan and elegance by Alois Melichar, a now nearly forgotten Austrian master. The set includes bonus tracks of the Third Brandenburg Concerto conducted by three legendary masters: Eugene Goossens, Wilhelm Furtwängler, and the Dane Georg Høeberg. All recordings from the collection of Claus Byrith and transferred using the best possible digital technology.

The rich variety of colors and rhythms in South American culture and music are an essential feature of this program for concert flute and piano, which focuses largely on music by composers from the Ecuadorian Andes. Opening with Durán’s popular and crowd-pleasing Leyenda incásica, the theme of Ecuadorian dances continues in Jacinto Freire’s Suite, which also celebrates the flight of the condor. Virtuosity, evocations of landscape and expressive traditional songs can all be found here, concluding with Mexican composer Samuel Zyman’s internationally acclaimed Flute Sonata No. 1, which ranges from lyrical introspection to intensely contrapuntal dialogue.

These three compositions by three Portuguese composers pay direct and indirect tribute to the music of Beethoven. The Piano Quintet by João Domingos Bomtempo was written in the style of the Viennese Classical mainstream even as Beethoven was changing its direction. The two works by César Viana and Jaime Reis both have distant roots in Beethoven but pay their homage in very different styles, one using relatively traditional language and the other more radical – as was Beethoven himself, of course. The Lopes-Graça Quartet, made up of musicians with notable solo and chamber music careers, professors at the Escola de Música do Conservatorio Nacional (Lisbon), was formed in 2005 with the aim of equipping the Conservatory, in the image of many of its counterparts in the world , a reference group in the string area, with conditions to develop a permanent work with output at the levels of specialized training in chamber music (quartet master-classes) and the promotion of the school, at home and abroad.

This album already carries the intention in its title: "A Tribute to Bach" is meant to be a deep bow by the world-renowned recorder player Maurice Steger to the great master of the music world; Johann Sebastian Bach. For his Bach project; Maurice Steger has chosen six compositions that follow six different musical genres and placed the recorder at the forefront of solo instrumentation. In doing so; he places himself in the tradition of Bach himself; who has been proven to have repeatedly undertaken new instrumentations for his works in the course of his life. The result in terms of sound is fascinating: Bach becomes a convincing recorder player through Maurice Steger's interpretation.

This album explores music by three generations of the Tcherepnin family of composers: Nikolai, Alexander and Ivan. Although each wrote a wide range of scores, from solo pieces to operas and ballets, this recording focuses on their chamber music, presenting pieces spanning 95 years. Nikolai's works for violin and piano reveal a late-Romantic, post-Tchaikovskian sensibility, whereas those of Alexander have a more modern, twentieth-century touch, closer to the style of his friend Sergei Prokofiev (a student of his father). Ivan is represented by two works - early and late - for flute, clarinet and piano, which have an improvisatory and playful quality.

REVIEW:

Chamber music from three generations and almost 100 years from the Tcherepnin family, is presented on this CD. The family is represented by Nikolai, Alexander and Ivan. The works for violin and piano are by Nikolai and Alexander. Ivan is represented by compositions for flute, clarinet and piano. In five cases these are premiere recordings. Their music always develops on the basis of their Russian roots, which also leads to folk-song sounding elements. However, other influences always play into the music, such as expressionism in Nikolai’s case, Peruvian culture in Ivan’s, and in the well-traveled Alexander’s diverse influences and penchant for hexachordal scales alternating semitones and minor thirds. These recordings from a concert performance offer an opportunity to get acquainted with this assemblage of three generations of musicians – the fourth is not represented here. By far the best known, Alexander, is represented with his violin sonata and three small works for this instrumentation. The internationally experienced performers, all of whom have a connection to the United States, particularly Boston, offer a carefully crafted and spiritedly presented picture of these works by the three composers in mature performances.

-- Pizzicato