Perhaps the best Hovhaness instalment so far from Naxos.

Naxos are moving with implacable determination around the towering edifice that is the Hovhaness catalogue. Disc after disc is added to their catalogue and discoveries are being made at every turn. This latest volume, set in the context of their American Classics series continues the track record established by: 8.559294 (Symphony 60; Guitar Concerto 1), 8.559207 (Symphonies 4, 20, 53) and 8.559128 (Cello Concerto, Symphony 22).

As is evident from the Saxophone Concerto Hovhaness can be unpredictable and so he proves here. The wonderfully titled Fanfare for the New Atlantis is more of a tone poem with aspects of fanfare in-built. His regal and confident brass writing has the trappings of antiquity - a touch of the Gabriellis - but there is also a sense of modernity, of prayer and of invocation. The most stately aspects of the fanfares at 5:10 recall the striding brass writing in Vaughan Williams' Pilgrim's Progress. The origin of the piece seems unknown though it may have some connection with the Francis Bacon Society which believes that Shakespeare was Bacon's pen-name. Hovhaness was a member of the Society. Amongst Bacon's writings is The New Atlantis. In any event this Fanfare defies clichés you may have absorbed from knowing the examples by Bliss, Walton and Benjamin. This fanfare is recorded, as are all three works, with lavish resonance yet with no loss in definition.

The Guitar Concerto No. 2 was commissioned by Narciso Yepes who gave the work its premiere at the Granada Festival in 1990, five years after its completion. This may have been delayed by the tragic death of Yepes' son in the year in which the concerto was completed. There were no other performances after the premiere. Javier Calderón who commissioned the First Guitar Concerto plays it here although David Leisner made the first recording of the guitar concerto (Naxos 8.559294). The Concerto No. 2 is in four movements. The first is an andante which is delicate, stately and Moorish in character. The allegro giusto recalls the Ravel string quartet in its pizzicato and Rodrigo's Aranjuez in the guitar writing. The andante misterioso makes use of the composer's trademark in surging and searching unison strings alternating with guitar solo. The two commune in invocation and response. The final adagio, allegro giusto combines the sinuous North African arcana of the first movement with a delicate heel-and-toe dance (2:06) over pizzicato. It will have most listeners wanting to play this piece again and again.

In the Loon Lake Symphony Hovhaness looks back in the first movement (Prelude) through the hybrid Celtic-Oriental cor anglais melody to holidays in New Hampshire. We should remember that Hovhaness spent time at his uncle's New Hampshire farm. The commission for this work came in 1987 from the New Hampshire Music Festival. The opulent yet understated carpet of the orchestra comprises a delicate interplay of harp, bells, and pizzicato strings murmuring and strumming. The contemplative and partially Debussian second and last movement includes an Andante misterioso which seems to wander in a trance through those countryside memories. The sound of the loon is quoted in this evocative movement (4:30 and 15:03). The co-commissioner of the Symphony was the Loon Preservation Society. The dialogue of woodwind and the steady dripping of harp hold the attention. The flute and oboe have a louche and jazzy character (12:46) over a pizzicato string backdrop. This develops into an episode which has the clarinet singing a Holstian melody which has something of the greensward about it (14:10). The rhapsodic curl of the woodwind solos resonates with Vaughan Williams - this time the Antarctica rather than the Tallis Fantasia. This is a most beautiful and naturally eloquent symphony. The grand Purcellian statements which are a Hovhaness watermark are here added silver livery by the harp’s expressive endowment. Over this grandeur the trumpet cries out in a further evocation of the loon.

The notes are helpful and specific - always valuable with Hovhaness – and add to the delights of this fine disc.

Naxos are in their element with the Hovhaness symphonies. Don't stop now; of a total of 67 there are plenty of unrecorded symphonies to tackle.

I cannot over-emphasise how attractive this music is. Hovhaness wrote in the 1960s of the importance of identifying our own kind of beauty. These three works bear him out completely.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

Three of Alan Hovhaness' six symphonies for wind ensemble are included on this Naxos release. After hearing these, I'm eagerly waiting for the label to get to the other three. All of the ensemble playing is flawless, the many solos are ravishingly beautiful, and conductor Keith Brion's grasp of the music results in performances I can't imagine being bettered, surpassing even the classic Mercury Living Presence recording by the late Frederick Fennell and the Eastman Wind Ensemble.


The symphonies are separated by two of the composer's works for trumpet and band, the solo part played by Scotland's great trumpeter John Wallace. He soars ecstatically above his colleagues in the Prayer of Saint Gregory, and his more varied part in Return and Rebuild the Desolate Places (the most aggressive music on the disc) achieves a threatening quality without ever losing beauty of tone.


Hovhaness' style is so distinctive, and his oeuvre so vast, that it's easy to tag him as having written the same piece over and over. And it is true that these works share many of the same elements: long, arching modal melodies, rich triadic harmonies laced with non-harmonic chiming notes, "spirit murmurs", and fluent, noble fugues. But there is enough difference in the inspiration of these works, and enough stylistic development, that you don't really get an impression of sameness. And there are many passages that haunt the memory: the flowing oboe and harp duet at the heart of the Fourth Symphony; the crossing trombone portamentos in the same work; the gorgeous fugue for all of the bell-like instruments in "Star Dawn"; the emergence from the frightening eruption that represents the "Desolate Places".


The recording was made in a church in Paisley, Scotland, and the venue contributes just the right mixture of spaciousness and intimacy to suit the music. If you are the sort of record collector who keeps alert for good new releases of unusual repertoire, this is a disc with the musical values and production quality that you always are hoping for. [1/4/2006]
--Joseph Stevenson, ClassicsToday.com

Making a welcome reappearance on CD, Symphony No. 22 "City of Light" contains some of Hovhaness' most extended thoughts, particularly in its extremely grand finale. The combination of elements is typical: sumptuous chorales, gentle dance music with an oriental flavor (particularly in the tiny Allegretto grazioso third movement), and imposing modal counterpoint. This performance originally appeared on Delos with a different coupling, and it's absolutely first rate in all respects.


The coupling, the only available recording of the early (1936) Cello Concerto, is new to CD and features the redoubtable Janos Starker as soloist. It's not a great work, but it is an extremely pleasant, interesting, even important one. All of the Hovhaness fingerprints that we observe in the symphony are also present in this piece. Two lengthy slow movements frame a very short central Allegro, and the 25-year-old composer's writing for the cello doesn't sound all that grateful to play--although the soloist does get a lot to do. But what makes this piece so fascinating, and so deserving of your attention, is the fact that it does everything that we expect of music by, say, Arvo Pärt or John Tavener, and yet it was composed nearly 70 years ago! Hearing this, it's no wonder Hovhaness is only just coming into his own, and it's a fitting historical irony that a composer once denigrated as backward looking should in fact turn out to be a prophet of important musical trends.


It's also worth noting that about two seconds of this piece sounds 10 times better than anything by "spiritual opportunists" such as Tavener. Yes, the outer movements go on too long, but as with most of Hovhaness' music, the results fall easily on the ear, and Starker, despite a couple of moments of iffy intonation toward the start of the work, plays eloquently. The sonics in both works are also first rate. It was certainly a coup for Naxos to secure this recording of the Cello Concerto, and listening to it is more than just enjoyable in and of itself: it's cause for reappraisal of Hovhaness' historical position, and it's a useful commentary on the work of some important contemporary musical voices. Do try to hear it.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com