This stunning collection features acclaimed pianist Gabriel Tacchino performing the complete piano and orchestra compositions of Camille Saint-Saëns. Enjoy the masterful musicianship of Tacchino, accompanied by the Luxembourg Radio Orchestra. Immerse yourself in the rich and diverse soundscapes crafted by one of the greatest composers of the late Romantic era. Experience the full range of Saint-Saëns' genius with this comprehensive set.

REVIEWS:

It’s good to see this collection of Saint-Saëns piano concertos coming back in tandem with such rarities as Cyprès et Lauriers for Organ and Orchestra, the Fantaisie for Violin and Harp, La muse et le poète (for violin, cello, and orchestra), and the two small works for horn and orchestra. All are well performed and acceptably recorded, though the main attraction remains Gabrielle Tacchino’s charming way with the piano concertos. An excellent pianist in a lighter vein, his artistry might have been tailor-made for these works.

Tacchino is particularly adept at tossing off the less familiar works–Concertos Nos. 1, 3, and 5–and he understands that elegance and ease count for more than raw power in this music...if you love these works, you should have this. Froment provides decent accompaniments, and while the sonics remain a touch “tight” and dry, the overall quality is perfectly listenable and very well balanced.

-- MusicWeb International (David Hurwitz)

The French composer Camille Saint-Saëns was prolific and lived a long time, although by the time of his death in 1921 music had changed beyond anything he could have conceived. He was a gifted pianist and, in common with many other well known French composers, found employment and distinction as organist at one of the principal churches in Paris. The popular Carnival of the Animals, described as A Zoological Fantasy, was written in 1886, originally for two pianos and a small chamber orchestra, to celebrate that year's carnival. The composer forbade further performances of this occasional music, except for The Swan, which enjoyed immediate and irresistible popularity.

The Soviet composer Sergey Prokofiev wrote his Peter and the Wolf in 1936 to introduce to children the instruments of the orchestra. He had taken his two sons to see performances at the Moscow Children's Music Theatre and this had suggested to him the possibility of a composition of this kind. The boy Peter, represented by the strings, is playing in the meadow, forbidden territory. A bird, shown by the flute, sings in a tree: a duck, the oboe, swims in the pond, and a cat, the clarinet, comes onto the scene, sending the bird up to a higher branch. Peter's grandfather, the bassoon, warns the boy not to venture out, but meanwhile a wolf, the French horns, comes into the meadow, 
and adventures ensue with spoken narration.

Ten years later, in 1946, the English composer Benjamin Britten was asked to write music for an educational film introducing the instruments of the orchestra. For the purpose he chose a theme by the great 17th century English composer Henry Purcell and wrote a set of variations, each of which shows the characteristics of a particular instrument or group of instruments. The alternative title of the work, Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Purcell, is an exact description. The other title, The Young Person's Guide to the 
Orchestra, makes fun of the titles much favored by writers of moral tales in the 19th century, providing "young persons" with advice on how to regulate every aspect of their lives. At the most exciting part of the concluding fugue, the brass instruments play again the original theme, leading to a grand conclusion. 

...Ricci's performance of the Adagio [from the Spohr Concertante] could not be bettered and he has a worthy partner in Susanna Mildonian... Louis de Froment is an admirable accompanist and the recording...is admirably clear and well balanced.

-- Gramophone [6/1979, reviewing an LP release of the Spohr]

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The chromatic harp is an idiosyncratic and, outside certain simple formulae, difficult instrument to write for; it has also been hard for it to escape from its 'romantic' image. Think of the harp, think of arpeggios (isn't that what the word signifies?), and those traversed with a sweep of the hand are inevitably colourful because you can't do it with a simple triad. Harp concertos have never been numerous and, other than Mozart and Handel, have come and gone like recorded ships in the night. Glière's has survived but Zabaleta's account of Reinecke's has long gone (DG 138 853, 11/63). Hard to realize the Glihre was written as late as 1939 —broad but fairly commonplace tunes, ultraconservative structure and language, arpeggios galore are its lot, music to relax and dream to. Michel is a fine harpist and her Glibre fully matches Ellis's older and less crisply recorded version on Decca, but neither can transmute the music's pewter to gold. The Reinecke is a more demonstrative and developed work, not written 'Out of its time', exploiting the resources of the harp in both solo and subsidiary roles, the flanking movements with cyclic connections.

The slow movement is exceptionally beautiful, the opening theme given by harp and trombone in hushed unison, and later, in ethereal harmonies on the harp with quiet responses from the strings. Michel presses a little ahead of her colleagues at times (notably the unisoni trombone) but generally benefits from skilful orchestration, sensitive support and well balanced recording. Written for a 'commoner' instrument the Reinecke might have become an oft-heard standard in the repertoire- it may still find favour with anyone following my advice to buy this recording.

-- Gramophone [4/1980, reviewing the LP release of the Gliere and Reinecke concertos]

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The novelty for me—and I daresay it may be for others too—was Roussel's Serenade of 1925, refreshing music that while keeping well clear of profundities, is yet most elegantly fashioned, urbane and full of wry charm. Here you will find the Melos Ensemble more smiling and certainly more kaleidescopic in colour. The Turnabout team are a bit more serious about the musical argument, a bit less bemused by effects of tone colouring. The flautist, Wilhelm Schwegler, also unfortunately has to breathe, whereas Richard Adeney's instrument (I presume it is Adeney) miraculously seems to play itself without audible intakes of air. It is Adeney's tonal bloom, his wider range of dynamics and colour and more malleable phrasing that in the first place succeeds in making Debussy's sonata sound more beguiling than the cheaper version, and especially in the opening Pastorale—considered by many critics no less seductive than the famous L'apres-midi. In this movement the Turnabout team do not react subtly and sensitively enough to detail, whereas the Melos are constantly reading between the lines and yielding rhythmically to this and that. But perhaps you could argue that the graver pulse chosen by the Germans for the Minuetto emphasizes its archaic, hieratic quality. I also thought they manage to define individual notes a bit more precisely in the finale than the Melos, who are sometimes a bit too impressionistic in their fluidity for this movement, where Debussy, "Musicien Francais", is very definitely looking back to seventeenth-and eighteenthcentury French classicism.

The performance I enjoyed most was the old, familiar Ravel from the Endres Quartet with Helga Storck, Konrad Hampe and Gerd Starke. The music, of course, is much less equivocal than the Debussy, and these players respond to its sensuous languor and tingling darts with more immediacy than I detected anywhere else on this record.

-- Joan Chissell, Gramophone [2/1969, reviewing the LP release of the Debussy, Ravel, and Roussel works]

Strange how fashion moves on. It has left any piece for solo instrument and orchestra having the effrontery to call itself anything other than concerto in the wasteland. Such pieces now have a life on CD alone except for the rarest concert exceptions and competitions (and then usually in a version with piano). So be it. Though it is strange that when the public is more easily captivated by the 3 minute sound-byte that these shorter pieces are not more popular in concert.

These bon-bons are dispatched with affectionate zest by Rosand who plays them for every subtle turn and dexterous twist and every gramme of neon excitement. He is in total rapport with his orchestra and conductor. The recordings are all excellent given their twenty years worn lightly except for the harsh Berliox Reverie et Caprice.

The Northern sun and moon play in brilliantly poetic limelight over the Sibelius Humoresques. I learnt these utterly lovable pieces from this recording when it was issued with a recording of Nielsen's Symphony No. 6 on Turnabout LP. These are the distilled quintessence of Sibelian temperament - romance in all its cool lunar intensity. The benign Tchaikovsky Serenade is done with meditative reserve. The brash edge on the solo violin in the Berlioz piece compromises what is otherwise a sentimentally doleful performance. The Saint-Saens Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso has been well done by many violinists (Ulf Hoelscher is one of my favourite recordings - EMI). Rosand turns in an exotic performance - accented balletically and not short on crackling energy bursts. In the case of the rather revolutionary Chausson Poème I have recently heard the Vadim Repin version on Teldec and prefer the richer air brought about through the plusher modern EMI recording. The Chausson is a terribly neglected work forward-looking, meditative, with touches of Delius. Hearing the Rosand again I am torn. Rosand seems to put his all into this music and it pays in dividends of eloquence. The Ravel Tzigane I first heard during the early 1970s on a Philips Universo LP played by Arthur Grumiaux - a most affecting performance more effective, I thought, in its fanciful introspection than in the flyaway acrobatics. Rosand is good in both.

The second disc breaks the mould by including a work which calls itself 'concerto'. Saint-Saens' Third is a true warhorse having been much recorded by all and sundry amongst the violinistic brethren. The three Saint-Saens concertos have charm, Beethovenian gravitas (from the violin concerto, that is) and some flashy witchery but they lack the exoticism of the Caprice Andalou (would that Rosand would tackle that work!), the Havanaise, and the Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso. Rosand matches the requirements of this work most beautifully but I do not find this concerto the most involving of pieces at the best of times lacking the very melodic distinction that marks out his second piano concerto and third symphony. It always strikes me as a work that is going through the romantic motions.

The Havanaise is a different matter altogether and while I have fond memories and great affection for the Leonid Kogan version Rosand is all quiet grace, restful smiles, sprinting brilliance, sparks flying everywhere. Next time Class Fm (or its equivalent elsewhere ) wants to try a soupçon of soothing music which has true character they should reach for this track. A recording and performance to count alongside the best. You will want to play it again and again.

From Havanaise it is a natural progression to move to Lalo's once ubiquitous Symphonie Espagnole. With its glaring Brahmsianisms, stock Spanishry, deep reserve of charm and mercurial mood changes it is a work still capable with small effort of winning friends. I wonder what would have happened if Lalo had just called it a concerto. By the way the Rhapsodie Norvégienne is also well worth seeking out. I remember it being coupled with the Martinon recording of the Namouna suites and making quite a splash. The Repin on Teldec is a richer recording but for the same price you can have Rosand and almost three times as much music as the Teldec offers.

There is some stunning playing on offer here: stunning both in the depths of expression and in spark-striking pyrotechnics. Recommended.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

Excellent playing - gloriously committed, fresh, confident and perceptive. This deserves a wider circulation.

Camille Saint-Saëns was one of the major Romantic composers in nineteenth century France. Regarded as a pioneer in his early years after the Great War and then in his eighties Saint-Saëns was still writing in his familiar late-Romantic style and his music had become regarded as anachronistic. Throughout his long life of eighty-six years Saint-Saëns wrote in most genres, including symphonies, concertante works, sacred and secular choral music, a ballet Javotte and incidental music, chamber music, numerous songs and pieces for piano and organ, and numerous arrangements. Saint-Saëns much cherished his thirteen operas all written during the period 1872-1911. Despite being prolific the fame of Saint-Saëns rests largely on just a small number of works most notably: the Symphony No. 3 Organ; the Symphonic Poem: Danse macabre; Softly awakes my heart and the Bacchanale from the opera Samson and Delilah; the Introduction and Rondo capriccioso and Havanaise for violin and orchestra, and The Swan from The Carnival of the Animals. Although of high quality the majority of his works are hardly known. A concert pianist himself a substantial number of Saint-Saëns’s rarely heard solo piano scores are a case in point. Even in his home country his piano scores soon became lost among the piano works of his European predecessors Liszt and Chopin and the impressionism of his successors Debussy, Ravel and Satie.

This MDG release serves as a excellent showcase for the solo piano scores. Presented here are three collections of six piano works. For some reason they are not placed in chronological order. The first is the Album pour Piano, op. 72. These are pieces tailored for virtuoso display in the fashionable Parisian salons and concert halls. The Album opens with an urgent Prélude with passages of calm; sounding somewhat Lisztian. A peaceful work tinged with melancholy the Carillon adopts a more serious quality at its centre. The rapid and darting Toccata has considerable appeal and the Valse is another attractive piece that develops a fervent core. Rocking and undemanding, the Chanson Napolitaine evokes the motion of the gondola. The concluding Final is a dazzling and exuberant showpiece.

The next two collections comprise Études ( Studies). These are spacious, polished and appealing in style and at times strike the classical approach of Mendelssohn. The Six Études pour le Piano, op. 52 commence with an upbeat and extrovert Prélude. Titled Pour l'independance des doigts this is melodic and encompasses a sighing and romantic mood. A brisk and determined Prélude and Fugue in F minor is followed by the tricky Etude de rythme so movingly gentle and delicate with an almost pleading quality. The Prélude and Fugue in A major is very fine being both melodic and dramatic, The set culminates in the popular En forme de Valse, sweeping and scatty.

The closing set is the Six Études pour le Piano, op. 111. Opening the set is the short Tierces majeures et mineures which is big-boned and extrovert. Reminding me on occasions of Rimsky-Korsakov’s famous Flight of the Bumblebee is the rapid Traits chromatiques followed by the Prélude et Fugue notable for its broad and dramatic gestures. Saint-Saëns was a great lover of the sound of bells and wrote several bell-inspired scores. A repetitive piece Les Cloches de Las Palmas contains prominent bell-like figures that could easily be ringing out a warning to townsfolk. The attractive, penultimate and scurrying Tierces majeures chromatiques is only brief. To crown this collection comes the dramatic and boisterous Toccata d'après le cinquième concerto a title that refers to the finale of the Piano Concerto No. 5, op. 103 known as ‘ The Egyptian’ .

Korean pianist Mi-Joo Lee provides excellent playing with a beautiful tone drawn from her Steinway concert grand (model D). There were only a couple of minor examples of poor technicality otherwise the soloist was gloriously committed, fresh, confident and perceptive. Virtually everything that Saint-Saëns wrote is appealing and of high quality whilst not making any claims for these splendid and interesting scores to be classed as masterworks. They deserve a wider circulation.

-- Michael Cookson, MusicWeb International

Richard Marlow's Trinity College Choir of Cambridge has established itself as one of the premier groups of its kind, recording prolifically for Conifer and staking out a swath of repertorial turf that encompasses devotional music from the sixteenth century to the middle of the twentieth. Unlike their better-known counterparts at King's College, the Trinity choristers are an all adult ensemble, using women instead of boy trebles and achieving a more professional sound as a result.
CHORAL MOODS is a well-filled two-disk compilation which offers an excellent survey of sacred choral music, though one might have hoped for a little more J. S. Bach. What is here, above all, is beautiful music, well sung and recorded. There are some substantial pieces, such as the Gregorio Allegri "Miserere," Felix Mendelssohn's anthem "Hear My Prayer" and the complete "Messe Basse" (Low Mass) of Gabriel Fauré, as well as some less frequently encountered works such as Henry Balfour Gardiner's "Evening Hymn" and Camille Saint-Saëns "O Salutaris Hostia." It adds up to make a highly commendable anthology.

The ensemble Hexagon (Susan Rotholz, flute; Alan Kay, clarinet; Matt Dine, oboe; Chris Komer, French horn; Michael Finn, bassoon; and James Winn, piano) begins its French odyssey in a most unusual way. Are these six players eating dessert before dinner by beginning their program with a trifle they often use as an encore, the last movement from Jean Françaix's L'Heure du berger? Well, perhaps: the remainder of the music on this disc is frequently of a much more serious bent, but the ensemble plays with such élan, so elegantly and yet with such a spirit of fun that you can't help but be swept up in the parade. The concluding Saint-Saëns Tarantella is delivered with similar good cheer and a light touch, nicely book-ending the disc.


But what comes between is no less impressive. The raucous opening and closing moments of the Poulenc Sextet echo the mood of the Françaix (and also show off the group's fantastic technical skills), and the players never lose the emotional threads of the middle Divertissement, though they twist and turn through segments that are alternately dreamy and sharp-tongued. Saint-Saëns' Caprice, written while the composer was on tour in Russia for the czarina, is a strange, meandering piece that never quite manages to cohere--but it still offers the players a chance to show off that lovely, creamy tone.


The Poulenc trio features some impressive performances, particularly Finn's extraordinarily crisp delivery in the opening Presto, Dine's gracefully singing tone in the Andante, and Winn's spiky jabs in the concluding Rondo. Albert Roussel's Divertissement flows beautifully, played at a wistful tempo and with seamless lines. The sound is ideally balanced between the players, something of a feat considering how tricky it can be to mike winds. I wish that these powerhouse players had a more expanded repertoire at their disposal; this recording is a real treat.
--Anastasia Tsioulcas, ClassicsToday.com