Peter Pears gives the words their full due and sings with sensitive mastery, while Julian Bream plays with unfailing affection. The enthralling music and superb performances makes this out-of-the-way record a joy.

To a very considerable extent this record is a tribute to Julian Bream's playing; had he not been around, the two song cycles and the Britten folk-song arrangements (and for all I know, other items too) would never have been written. And very enjoyable it all is. The two song-cycles are, I think, near each other in quality, but some way apart in effect, for the Britten is obviously written to suit Peter Pears and Julian Bream, whereas the Walton seems at times to be written, as it were, against them. Thus the second song needs to be sung (I apologize for the word) saucily, the fifth with a degree of inebriations, and they are not really within Pears's emotional range. You might think the last one beyond the powers of most singers, so difficult is it, but in fact Pears makes a very good shot at it, and it is surprisingly effective. But Lady, when I behold the roses seems better suited to the performers' style and, a lovely song, it comes off without any sense of strain. The words of these songs ("chosen by Christopher Hassall"—why didn't Walton choose them?) all date from the sixteenth or seventeenth centuries, and their charm is among the cycle's chief attractions.

The Britten Songs from the Chinese date from 1958, two years before the Walton, and they are settings of some of Arthur Waley's exquisite translations. Peter Pears gives the words their full due, and sings with sensitive mastery, while Julian Bream plays the marvellous guitar part with unfailing affection. I'm told that Britten himself did a good deal of guitar practice when writing these songs, and it would be interesting to hear him attempt them. His recent folk-song arrangements are delightful, and at least one of them has a guitar part of formidable difficulty. The Seiber arrangements of French folk-songs are simpler in style, but lovely to hear, and the Fricker setting of 0 Mistress mine, is delightful... [T]he enthralling music and superb performances and splendid quality makes this out-of-the-way record a joy.

-- R.F., Gramophone [7/1965, reviewing the original LP release]

Dante Alighieri, born in Florence in 1265, was at once a poet and an important political figure of his time. His celebrated Divine Comedy relates his supposed descent to Hell and slow ascent to Paradise. Godard’s operatic treatment of his life (1890) skilfully juxtaposes the political milieu – crowd scenes in Florence and the quarrel between Guelfs and Ghibellines – with the expression of the courtly love he feels for Beatrice, betrothed to his friend Bardi. The most remarkable element of the opera is the integration of a ‘Vision’ that is nothing less than a synthesis of the Divine Comedy set to music. Its third act is built around a fantasy ‘Hell’ and ‘Paradise’, featuring an Apparition of Virgil, Chorus of the Damned, Infernal Whirlwind, Divine Radiance and Apotheosis of Beatrice. Godard is here at the peak of his melodic inspiration and compositional mastery, in a style that brings Gounod up to date and need not fear comparison with Massenet.

REVIEW:

In this musically and stylistically adept performance, the listener will be distressed only by a lack of vocal weight in the two leads, especially Edgaras Montvidas’s Dante (though his characterization features all the necessary passion). Véronique Gens’s Béatrice, too, is hard-pressed in the heavier episodes, but as always, the soprano’s artistry abounds in elegance and unforced charm.

Key supporting roles feature mezzo Rachel Frenkel (as Gemma), a splendidly musical artist with an exceptionally colorful timbre, and baritone Jean-François Lapointe (as Bardi), whose wonderfully velvety instrument sails on top. The small roles are finely performed by bass-baritone Andrew Foster-Williams (as Old Man and Ghost of Virgil), tenor Andrew Lepri Meyer (as Herald) and in particular mezzo Diana Assenti (as Student), who’s enchanting in the Student’s ode to Virgil.

On the podium, Ulf Schirmer takes to Godard effortlessly, inspiring much lyrically rewarding and dramatically hair-raising playing. The chorus performs rousingly, although in merely serviceable French.

This release includes a beautifully illustrated, almost 150-page book with the full text and an English translation, a first-hand account of the premiere from the journal Le Charivari, an in-depth musical analysis and articles focusing on the attention paid to Dante in nineteenth-century music and art.

-- Opera News

Crouch End Festival Chorus presents two Britten classics: Saint Nicolas and A Ceremony of Carols. Full of vibrancy and drama, Saint Nicolas is performed alongside the fabulous BBC Concert Orchestra and features tenor Mark Le Brocq as well as Coldfall Primary School Choir, members of Hertfordshire Chorus and Hannah Brine Choirs. The ever-popular A Ceremony of Carols is performed with harpist Sally Pryce, with both works conducted by David Temple. A Ceremony of Carols (1942/3) and Saint Nicolas (1948) are the earliest works that Benjamin Britten composed for public performance primarily for boys’ voices. These performances, recorded here at London’s All Saint’s Church and Alexandra Palace Theatre, truly show how glorious these two pieces of music are, and why they have remained so popular.

REVIEW:

This album stands out, for it might be considered an authentic performance. The main choir, gallery choir, boy soloists, and duo pianists here are all amateurs, and they bring a sense of discovery to the work and its narrative quality that's different from professional choir performances. The Ceremony of Carols has the requisite bright innocence, and the boy soloists in Saint Nicolas are top-notch. Conductor David Temple deserves special notice here, fusing the members of four separate choirs into a seamless whole. The engineering in the recently restored and acoustically ideal Alexandra Palace Theater is a bonus on top of this fine slice of the English choral tradition.

– AllMusicGuide.com (James Manheim)

Benjamin Carr (1768-1831) was born in London. He immigrated to the U.S. in 1793. Carr was prolific as a composer, writing operas, pantomimes, masses, sacred hymns and anthems, many songs, and a prodigious amount of music for organ and pianoforte. Kirsten Johnson is a pianist, composer and recording artist of international acclaim. She has recorded 18 albums of solo piano music with Centaur, Nimbus, Delos and Guild. This includes the complete piano music of Arthur Foote, James Hewitt and Amy Beach, and world premiere recordings of Albanian piano music and Dmitri Kabalevskys op. 1. Kirstens compositions have been played around the world. Brno, for cello and piano, was performed at the Festival OSMOSE in Brussels, Belgium. Flute Vibes was premiered at Exeter College, Oxford, U.K. The premiere of Remembrance, Journey and Dance (in a version for clarinet, bassoon and piano) was given in New York City by Vent Nouveau. Dr. Johnson received her Doctor of Musical Arts from the University of Missouri-Kansas City, conducting much of her research in Albania and in the Bodleian Library, Oxford University.

This release of the Britten Cello Suites follows Quirine Viersen’s successful album of the Bach Suites. The album is a tribute to the artist’s good friend and producer Paul Janse, who passed away two years ago. Dutch cellist Quirine Viersen is one of the leading musical personalities of her generation. Her intense and virtuosic playing has convinced the public, the press, and her colleagues of her special musicality. She has shown broad insight in classical music literature with her concerto and recital performances as well as her festival participation. Viersen has been awarded numerous prizes at international competitions, the most important being the Young Artist Award in 2000 which was presented to her by the Credit Suisse Groupe. Viersen plays a 1715 Joseph Guarnerius Filius Andreae, provided by the Dutch National Instrument Fund.

This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.

Also available on standard DVD
Adapted from Thomas Mann’s 1912 novella, Death in Venice was Benjamin Britten’s last opera, the composer insisting on its completion while delaying badly needed heart surgery. The starkly simple narrative of a famous but failing novelist travelling to Venice to seek inspiration only to find unhealthy infatuation and deadly cholera, is given a chamber-like precision and clarity through Britten’s score, becoming a haunting drama filled with musical symbols, disquieting mystery and richly evocative atmospheres of Venice and its strange characters. Willy Decker’s Teatro Real production was described as ‘one of his most brilliant stage works… a remarkable technical feat.’

Also available on Blu-ray

Adapted from Thomas Mann’s 1912 novella, Death in Venice was Benjamin Britten’s last opera, the composer insisting on its completion while delaying badly needed heart surgery. The starkly simple narrative of a famous but failing novelist travelling to Venice to seek inspiration only to find unhealthy infatuation and deadly cholera, is given a chamber-like precision and clarity through Britten’s score, becoming a haunting drama filled with musical symbols, disquieting mystery and richly evocative atmospheres of Venice and its strange characters. Willy Decker’s Teatro Real production was described as ‘one of his most brilliant stage works… a remarkable technical feat.’

A strikingly alert, fresh-faced reading of the Young Person's Guide, but the major attraction is the Sinfonia da Requiem, which immediately impresses with the focus and sheen of the orchestral playing.

I haven't enjoyed Britten's endlessly resourceful Young Person's Guide so much in ages... [A] strikingly alert, fresh-faced reading... When it comes to the Grimes Interludes, [Slatkin] concentrates on meticulous refinement, with radiantly airy textures throughout: the results are more coolly detached than we are used to hearing and often strikingly beautiful... [W]hat's more, [he] offers a notable bonus in the shape of a lucid and (once again) strikingly refined account of the ''Passacaglia'' from the same opera.

So what is left on the RCA collection? Well, there's a most eloquent, beautifully poised rendering of the Purcell Chaconne—Britten's loving realization can rarely have sounded more beguiling. But the major attraction here is the Sinfonia da Requiem. This could hardly start more promisingly, with fearsome ff timpani blows and balefully growling tuba. Again, what immediately impresses is the focus and sheen of the orchestral playing, but there's a price to pay, perhaps, in the shape of some lack of emotional thrust. It's the Dies irae centrepiece which bears this observation out most clearly: the demons certainly don't scamper quite as malevolently as they do on the composer's own 1964 Decca recording (which still, by the way, sounds absolutely stunning three decades on!)... Of course, this movement's shattering disintegration is as hair-raising as ever, and in the concluding ''Requiem aeternam'' Slatkin transmits a soothing, consolatory glow that many will find deeply moving.

In sum, [a] superior, finely engineered [addition] to the Britten discography; indeed, I can't imagine the majority of collectors will find much to disappoint them here.

-- Andrew Achenbach, Gramophone [3/1994]

Also available on Blu-ray

Seventy years after its Glyndebourne world premiere, Benjamin Britten's first chamber opera is welcomed home with "a performance of enthralling emotional power and physical beauty" gifted with "piercingly intelligent, immaculately realized staging and superb singing, acting an playing" led by "Fiona Shaw's supremely nuanced direction" and underpinned by "febrile playing" from members of the London Philharmonic Orchestra (The Telegraph, five stars). The production eloquently and tastefully tackles the difficult subject, which is lent emotional weight by "Christine Rice's grandly sung Lucretia, noble in tone yet tragically vunerable", along with baritone Duncan Rock's "forthright" Tarquinius and the "smooth bass" of Matthew Rose as the caring Collantinus (The Guardian, five stars).

Picture Format: NTSC, 16:9
Audio Formats: LPCM 2.0, DTS Digital Surround
Subtitles: English, French, German, Japanese Korean
Region Code: 0 (Worldwide)
Running Time: 114 mins (Opera), 17 mins (Extras)

The “Songs from the Chinese”, a cycle of six songs on poems translated from the original Chinese by Arthur Waley (1889–1966), were written in 1957 and premiered the following year by the duo of Pears and Bream. By the late 50s Bream was a lutenist and guitarist of great renown and had accompanied Pears in works by Dowland and other early music of the British Isles, concerts that inspired Britten to write for the duo some music of his own. His cycle naturally invited comparison with another great set of songs from the Chinese, Mahler’s “Das Lied von der Erde”, and the reception at the time was favourable: “as a whole, they make a statement about life (and particularly the transience of youth and beauty) as poignant and personal as Mahler’s” (critic Jeremy Noble in Tempo,1959). The sixth instalment of Britten’s lifelong project of folksong arrangements was published in November of 1961 in a second wave along with volumes four and five, which followed some 12 years after the first three volumes were issued in the 1940s. Volume Six contains six English folksongs and is the only one of the sets that he scored for voice and guitar. These folksong arrangements are as much a product of Britten’s admiration for Bream as are the “Songs from the Chinese”. In fact, when Pears and Bream premiered Britten’s song cycle at the Aldeburgh Festival (17 June 1958), they performed three of these folksongs on the same concert. Britten wrote the guitar solo “Nocturnal” after John Dowland in 1963 for Bream, who premiered it the following year (12 June 1964). The nine movements of the work are a “variations & theme”, progressing opposite to the usual order of a theme and variations. The model, “Come, Heavy Sleep” from the First Book of Songs by John Dowland (1563–1626), is only revealed at the end, with the variations leading up to it hinting at the song with treatments of various thematic fragments. Marcello Nardis and Duilio Meucci complete this album with three additional works by Dowland including the original “Come, Heavy Sleep” on which Britten based his Nocturnal, another well-known song, “Flow my tears”, and the lute solo “A Dream”.

It was probably Peter Pears, Britten’s partner in music and life, who drew the composer’s attention to the rich heritage of English folksong and its attractions, as a way to introduce texture, variety and a lighter tone to their song recitals together during the 1940s. According to the tenor, Britten ‘wanted to recreate these melodies with their texts for concert performance, to make them art-songs … he therefore takes the tune as if he had written it himself and thinks himself back as to how he would turn it into a song.’ Thus the piano parts are no mere accompaniments but highly wrought, deftly illustrative comments on the texts and stories of love and country life. In cases such as The Foggy, Foggy Dew and O Waly, Waly, Britten’s arrangements have become better known than any ‘original’ version; they have assumed the identity of the song in the popular imagination, and the distinctive voice of Pears singing them imprinted itself on the imaginations of countless music-lovers in the second half of the last century. However, the songs retain their place in the concert repertoire of many young singers, often as more than encore material, and they admit a rich variety of interpretative approaches. The tenor Mark Milhofer has previously taken part in Brilliant Classics surveys of the complete song output of Alban Berg (95549) and Francesco Tosti (Vol.1 – 95201), with the Berg attracting particularly enthusiastic praise: ‘Totally absorbing… convincingly performed from the first note to the last. Each performer brings sincerity and enthusiasm to this varied repertoire. The recording is ideal’ (MusicWeb International).

From Ondine comes a perceptive, at times daring, always thought-provoking new account of Britten's Piano Concerto. Indeed, pungent characterization is the order of the day, especially in the two middle movements. Here the ''Waltz'' is teased out with sly seduction by Okku Kamu and his excellent Swedish group, yet at the same time the ominous undertones of this music—its elements of ghostly burlesque and bitter irony—have (to my ears, at any rate) never been more unnervingly projected. Even more distinctive is Ralf Gothoni's provocatively expansive way with the opening of the ''Impromptu''. Britten's theme now emerges like some ravishingly intimate meditation, its quasi-improvisatory air (as the movement's title suggests) compellingly conveyed. Yet such is the magnetic concentration of Gothoni's playing that the line never falters, and the rest of the movement is again memorably realized—how marvellously for example, Kamu 'places' the final sustained ppp string chord.

As on the admirable performance by Joanna MacGregor for Collins Classics, we are also offered the concerto's original slow movement, a sharply inventive, highly capricious ''Recitative and Aria'' (which Britten withdrew in 1945, seven years after the work's premiere). Ondine rather jarringly programme this movement between the ''Waltz'' and ''Impromptu'', whereas Collins allot it a separate track after the concerto proper—an altogether preferable arrangement, I feel. No complaints, though, about the fizz and bravura on show in the opening ''Toccata'', nor about the mock-banal finale, whose largamente climax struts forth in superbly grim fashion here. In sum, a performance which all Brittenites should investigate.

Welcome contrast is afforded by the two Rossini-inspired suites, and Kamu does them both proud. The orchestral playing in Helsingborg has all the necessary poise and affection, whilst I especially enjoyed the extra breathing-space and wealth of tender expression Kamu finds in the two most reflective numbers (namely the ''Canzonetta'' from Soirees and ''Nocturne'' from Matinees) Ondine's sound throughout is simply first-rate. A splendid release.

-- Andrew Achenbach, Gramophone [1/1995]

“Gift Voucher: six Suites for Slava” This note, scribbled on a paper napkin was a promise supposedly made in 1964 by Benjamin Britten to the cellist Mstislav Leopoldovich “Slava” Rostropovich. It would appear that he wanted to compose for his friend a contemporary counterpart to Bach’s Solo Suites, which for any cellist are a sort of Old Testament in the cello repertoire. Britten took Baroque dance movements as a model and formed them into modern character pieces. Both from the point of view of form and tone, they exude a kinship and affinity with Johann Sebastian Bach. The fact that he actually only composed three suites was due to Britten’s poor health and his death not long afterwards. Britten’s encounter with Mstislav Rostropovich was the motive and inspiration for his cello works: they had met in the early 1960s through Dmitry Shostakovich at a performance by Rostropovich of the Soviet composer’s First Cello Concerto. Shostakovich is said to have complained after the concert of bruised ribs because during the concert Britten had often jabbed him in the ribs out of pure enthusiasm for the music. That enthusiasm led Benjamin Britten to dedicate his cello suites to the exceptional cellist. (Jakob Spahn)

"One of the most unlikely of mystics, Benjamin Britten penned his Hymn to the Virgin when he was just sweet 17. In its antiphonal responses between eight-part choir hymning the Virgin’s virtues in English and four-strong semi-chorus echoing their phrases back at them in Latin, it’s a gift to the Choir of Westminster Abbey, singing on its home ground, under Martin Neary. This all-Britten collection surrounds the familiar Ceremony of Carols – surely the most affecting anthology of its kind ever composed – with less familiar items like the Wedding Anthem for Lord Harewood and Marion Stein (now Thorpe) and the Christopher Smart setting Rejoice in the Lamb, plus a guest performance, as it were, of Canticle II: Abraham and Isaac with its other-worldly opening for unison alto and tenor (Michael Chance and Ian Bostridge) as the Voice of God – worth a million dollars, as BB himself confided to Tippett...This disc is one of the best things [Neary and the Westminster Choir] have done."

-- BBC Music Magazine

Written in his late teens: Flight, for solo flute, whose swooping crests and curlicues are fervently relished in Michael Cox's performance. Benjamin describes the piece as 'inspired by the sight of birds soaring and dipping over the peaks of the Swiss Alps'. Listening to the piece you'll hear a panoply of songs surfing the musical thermals in the alpine either: low, long-breathed cries and calls, filigree flocks of ornamentation in the atmospheric heights of the flute's register, a chorus of vapors conjured by a single instrument. Into The Little Hill is based on the Pied Piper story, allowing audiences an immediate entry point into the opera's dramaturgy. But Crimp's re-telling simultaneously updates the story, with its politicians, photographs, and limousines, and opens up further mythic dimensions to the narrative. The drama of Into the Little Hill is concisce, clear and simultaneously ambiguous, even chilling. Benjamin says, 'Martin's text is hard-edged, formal, and hyper-condensed'. The reason for its musical and dramatic success is Benjamin's unerring feeling for expressive characterisation. Each layer of Into the Little Hill's score is immediately identifiable, from the Crowd's baying cries of 'Kill them' rightat the start of the piece, to the rodentine scurrying of the rat's music, and the Mother's lamenting grief in the last scene. Dream of the Song is a mysteriously sensual and sensually strange song-cycle for countertenor, a halo of female voices that are similar in register, but so different in timbre and sound and expression, and orchestra. The counter-tenor sings poems, in English, by Jewish poets of 11th century Andalucia, themselves inspired by Arabic poetry of earlier centuries. There are images of ravishment and wonder here - moonlight, the celestial tent of the sky, a dream of a gazelle, a harp, a flute - but they are always undercut by other ideas. Above all, it's the gossamer rapier of Benjamin's music that cuts to the heart of these settings.