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

Frederica von Stade and French vocal music go together like peanut butter and jelly. For example, her Melisande remains unmatched in its depth of character and great musical profundity. Von Stade was meant to sing the arias on this compilation disc of recordings from her early career. Her years of living in France greatly influenced her interpretations and approach to the music. Equipped with one of the greatest mezzo instruments, von Stade sings with such natural ability and charm that it is easy to forget all that goes into preparing an aria.
A case in point is Offenbach's "Ah! quel diner je viens de faire" from 'La Perichole.' Often referred to as the "drunk" aria, it is one of von Stade's signatures, and she slyly portrays the plastered dinner guest trying to hide the extent of her intoxication. In dramatic contrast, von Stade passionately sings of desperate love in "Dieu! Que viens-je d'entendre?" from 'Beatrice et Benedict.' She seems to thrive on the intricate orchestration of Berlioz, and her flawless French diction is a delight to the ear. This is an important disc for those interested specifically in this repertoire, and von Stade sings it better than anyone else.

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.

Way ahead of his time, misunderstood, and a rebel. It is difficult to believe, as we hail Beethoven's achievements, that the great German composer had only been dead three years when Berlioz wrote the erotic Symphonie Fantastique. It was not progress, it was a quantum leap forward for music. Yet he was often shunned, the size and scope of such operas as The Trojans totally alien to those who were still trying to come to terms with the comparative conservatism of Beethoven's Fidelio. Just imagine Brahms was not yet born! This disc is the ideal way to appreciate just how great and significant was his music. From the boisterous Roman Carnival Overture, to the chilling March to the Scaffold, here is the very best of Berlioz. It is presented in outstanding performances, many from the partial cycle of Berlioz made for Naxos by the virtuoso orchestra from San Diego. And it even contains a novelty to titillate those who think they know a lot about Berlioz, with the Rêverie et Caprice, a work of stunning beauty for violin and orchestra.

Traditionally carols were not necessarily confined to the Christmas season, but were dance-songs. The dancers of Kölbigk, indeed, found themselves in difficulties with the Church, condemned by an angry priest to dance for a whole year, as a punishment for their neglect of religious duties, carolling at an inappropriate time in the churchyard. Nevertheless, even in the Middle Ages, there were carols specifically for Christmas, the season with which nowadays these songs are most closely associated. It has become the fashion to use very considerable technical and musical skill in the arrangement of essentially simple and popular music for the kind of sophisticated performance to be found in the major English choral foundations, and on these arrangements composers annually use much ingenuity and artifice. The Tewkesbury Abbey carols open with The first Nowell, in an arrangement by Sir David Willcocks, a musician well known for his long association with King's College, Cambridge, and it's choir, and with the London Bach Choir. The series continues with another David Willcocks arrangement, this time of an old Basque carol, with well known words by S. Baring-Gould, Gabriel's Message. Other fine arrangements by David Willcocks include a version of the popular While shepherds watched their flocks, from Thomas East's 1592 publication, The Whole Booke of Psalmes with their Wonted Tunes, as they are sung in Churches. The Polish carol Infant holy, infant lowly is included, with the fifteenth century French Franciscan processional Come, o come Emmanuel. Two other French carols arranged by David Willcocks are Angels from the realms of glory and Quelle est cette odeur agréable? (Whence is that goodly fragrance flowings?), the latter sung here in French. A final arrangement by David Willcocks in the present collection is of the traditional English watchman's song God rest ye merry, gentlemen.

Berlioz's L'Enfance Du Christ is probably known primarily due to it's famous "Shepherd's Chorus" but it is a piece that once listeners discover it, they realize a true golden gem has been found. It is primarily a choral work which tells the story of what are called the Infancy Narratives in the New Testament. Scenes of the work are taken from both the scriptures and legends and include Herod visiting a soothsayer which predicts the birth of the Messiah, the Annunciation (Mary learning of the birth of Jesus), the birth itself, and the flight into Egypt. This recording by the Orchestre National du Lille under the direction of Jean-Claude Casadesus captures both the beauty and scope of the work.