Reviews of recordings in this set:

The Creation


Although The Creation is no stranger to period-instrument performance, two in particular spring to mind as particularly outstanding. The first of these is Christopher Hogwood's on L'Oiseau-Lyre, which is in English and remains the only version to assemble the huge forces for which Haydn actually wrote, with singularly thrilling results. Second, there is Hengelbrock on Deutsche Harmonia Mundi, who demonstrated that at least on recordings the music can sound just as big and colorful, but without extensive doubling of instrumental parts. In his version of The Seasons, René Jacobs accomplished a similar feat, and so does this newcomer, even outdoing Hengelbrock in wringing every last drop of color from Haydn's perennially fresh orchestration. All of the other period performances, including Brüggen, Weil, Harnoncourt (twice), Kuijken, and Gardiner, stand at some remove from these three.

Andreas Spering has a lot going for him right from the beginning: crack vocal and instrumental forces, a strong lineup of soloists, and an excellent German radio production that sounds fabulous...This account of Chaos must stand as the most creepy and desolate on disc, the music still truly revolutionary and modern even at this late date. Spering takes time to make every detail tell: the sudden brass interjections, the startling clarinet run leading to the recapitulation, the muted strings and soloistic writing for timpani. Spering rightly treats the piece Romantically, allowing plenty of opportunities for rhetorical emphasis, as at the thrilling eruption of light and the ensuing recitative, taken a bit slower and more grandly than usual. But there's nothing mannered or unduly exaggerated: everything is dictated by the sense of the text. The chorus obviously relishes the words and sings as though they really mean something.

There are too many outstanding details to list completely. The concluding choruses of all three parts combine blazing brass with exceptional contrapuntal clarity. Sunhae Im and Hanno Müller-Brachmann make a charming Adam and Eve. The latter hasn't the steadiest of baritone voices, particularly in his lower register (as I noted in his recent recording of Bach's B minor Mass for Naxos), but he does surprisingly well in Raphael's big Part 2 aria "Nun scheint in vollem Glanze der Himmel", and tenor Jan Kobow turns in an excellent "In Native Worth" (as it's known in English). Spering somehow manages to play the living daylights out of the great duet with chorus at the center of Part 3, which Tovey called the greatest single movement that Haydn ever wrote, without making an anti-climax out of the following Adam and Eve duet and the big closing ensemble, with its dazzling coloratura "Amens". In short, from just about every possible standpoint, this is as fine a performance of this work as I hope to hear, one that at every turn reveals the miraculously undying youthfulness of Haydn's inspiration. Now on to the The Seasons, please!

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Il ritorno di Tobia (The Return of Tobias)

A welcome addition … worthy to set alongside the other great achievements of Haydn’s middle period.

This is a real find and a welcome addition to the Naxos catalogue. Haydn is justifiably famous for his oratorios The Seasons and The Creation. The latter has been recorded by these artists for Naxos to great acclaim. Now Andreas Spering and his Capella Augustina have unearthed Haydn’s first, all but forgotten oratorio, The Return of Tobias. The apocryphal subject of Tobias and the angel was extraordinarily popular in Haydn’s Vienna when he was composing this work, and he chose to home in on the section of the story when Tobias (Tobia) returns from his long absence from home and, with the help of his friend Asaria, aka the Archangel Raphael in disguise, cures his father’s blindness. Haydn takes this as an opportunity to create an oratorio which, while not as pacy or fast-moving as The Seasons and The Creation, contains much of beauty, and some very virtuosic singing for both chorus and soloists. Popular as the Tobias legend was in 1775, however, it quickly fell out of favour. It was furthermore felt that Haydn’s oratorio was too long (nearly 3 hours) and difficult to be easily revived so it fell out of favour and has barely been heard since. Length is less of an issue when you listen at home and, thankfully, the artists involved here make this difficult score seem all but effortless.

The first accolades have to go to the young soloists. We might hope that Nikolay Borchev would have sounded a little more weighty as Tobit, the blind father, but he brings pathos and sympathy to what could have seemed a dry character. His opening aria, Ah tu m’ascolta, oh Dio appropriately invokes sympathy for a man who seems to have lost all sympathisers on earth. Similarly Anders J. Dahlin is perhaps less forthcoming than we would expect from the hero of the story, but he brings a wonderfully mellifluous tone to the character of Tobias himself, from his first aria upon his return to his parental home, until the final miracle when his father is healed. The outstanding contributions, however, come from the three women soloists. Anna, Tobias’ aged mother, is characterfully sung by Ann Hallenberg. Her rich, fruity mezzo is perfect for the tone of despair the character needs at the opening, and she lightens her tone admirably when the mood of the piece turns more joyful in Part 2. Listen to her exciting opening aria (CD1, Track 4) and you will see how Haydn can create instant interest in the character, as well as how seemingly easily Hallenberg copes with it. Her nightmare aria is Part 2 is thrilling. Sophie Karthäuser tailors her tone to handle Tobias’ virtuous and dutiful wife, Sara. Most admirable of all, however, is Roberta Invernizzi, singing the role of Raphael. The angel is given appropriately difficult, often stratospheric music and Invernizzi sings it with flawless coloratura and effortless command of the technique.

The chorus seems totally convinced by this work and they throw themselves into their parts as if they were singing opera, which it often feels like they are. Two moments to watch out for: their fugal chorus that ends Part One is particularly exciting, and their stormy Part 2 chorus, Svanisce in un momento was resurrected by Haydn as his concert motet Insanae et vanae curae. The Capella Augustina, a period ensemble founded by Andreas Spering himself, plays this music as if it were written for it, and the chamber textures that Haydn is fond of using sound perfectly judged. Listen to Sarah’s Part 2 aria, Non parmi esser fra gl’uomini for a good example of how well orchestra and soloists blend. Spering holds the whole thing together with assured control, but also a sense of spontaneity, as if the music is unfolding in precisely the correct manner. This CD is a welcome addition to the catalogue, and something worthy to set alongside the other great achievements of Haydn’s middle period. Three cheers to Naxos for choosing to give it such a distinguished outing on CD. The booklet contains commentary, synopsis and Italian texts, but no translations.

-- Simon Thompson, MusicWeb International

Listen to the Naxos Podcast to learn more about this release

Although Haydn’s operas are rarely performed today, many of them were incredibly popular during the composer’s lifetime. They were frequently performed far beyond the reach of the affluent Esterhaza court, for which they were penned. The subject matter ranges from dark, supernatural productions, to light-hearted escapades. In one such story, a character is fooled into thinking he is on the moon. The overtures featured here display Haydn’s talent and flair, condensing the emotions of the operas as a whole.

Challenges even the best - a bargain alternative to Trevor Pinnock.

Naxos already had a decent recording of the ‘Nelson’ Mass (8.554416, with the ‘Little Organ’ Mass, Hob.XXII/7) on which soloists, the Hungarian Radio Chorus and the Nikolaus Esterházy Sinfonia were conducted by Béla Drahos. The new recording, Volume 3 of the Naxos series of the Haydn Masses, is also available in an 8-CD.

The Nikolaimesse, recorded in 2002, gets the new recording off to a very good start. The music is lighter, less vintage Haydn than its more familiar companion, with mainly brisk tempi much in the manner of the short early Masses which Mozart composed for his Salzburg patron Archbishop Coloredo. It also receives a fine performance and recording. The soloists don’t merit a listing on the rear insert, but they are named inside the booklet, as they deserve to be. If I select Ann Hoyt, the soprano, for special praise, that should not be at the expense of the others.

To be honest, I had not expected much from this CD - I hadn’t heard of any of the performers and I’d forgotten the warm reception which the complete box had received - but the performance of the Nikolaimesse alone makes it worth the modest price. All concerned convince me that this early work is at least the equal of any of Mozart’s Masses, with the exception of the Coronation (K317) the ‘Great’ Mass (K427)and, of course, the Requiem (K626).

The ‘Nelson’ Mass is, I think, at least the equal of the three best Mozart Masses. I shall continue to give it that name as a kind of shorthand, though it has very little to do with Lord Nelson: Haydn nicknames have a habit of sticking even when they are inappropriate - there is at least enough evidence to doubt that it was at a performance of Symphony No.96 that the heavy chandelier narrowly missed causing serious injury, yet the name ‘Miracle’ continues to be attached to that work. Haydn himself called it Missa in angustiis, Mass in straitened times, but it’s easier and shorter to continue to call it the ‘Nelson’.

The opening Kyrie announces that this is a more serious work than the Nikolaimesse. As Jennifer More Glagov notes in the excellent booklet, the lack of wind players - the Prince had just dismissed them as an economy measure - apart from three (specially hired?) trumpets gives the work an undeniably martial tone.

The performers again give an excellent account of themselves. Only Ann Hoyt remains from the earlier line-up and continues to sing impressively - my wife came in as I was listening and was very surprised to discover that this was the voice of a singer whom neither she nor I had heard before. Naxos and others please note, we want to hear more of her. The other soloists and the choir also step up to the plate and the recording, though thicker than for the earlier work, recorded five years earlier, is more than adequate. The last semi-professional performance of the ‘Nelson’ that I heard was spoiled by a soprano who out-sang everyone else, but that is certainly not the case here. I understand that all the soloists are members of the Trinity Choir, which must make it a formidable place for the musically inclined to worship.

John Sheppard (hereafter JS) complained of Burdick’s habit of slowing at certain points, but some of these are traditional. In the Creed, for example, the slowing at the end of track 16 on the words descendit de cælis prepares for the more marked traditional emphasis on et incarnatus est in the next section, where it used to be expected that all would kneel or bow deeply. In any case, JS soon began to be as untroubled by this practice as I was.

William Hedley (hereafter WH) commented on the reverberant acoustic of the Trinity Church but I really was not troubled by this - different audio systems react differently to reverberant recordings. Nor was I really troubled by the other detailed criticisms which he makes. Rather than repeat these here, I refer you to his review. Whilst I admit the validity of just about all of them, I cannot consider them a serious handicap to an overall recommendation.

WH is more than a little hard on the diction - the syllables are frequently chopped up in the wrong places, but the demise of Latin in the school curriculum makes it almost inevitable that a choir’s familiarity with that language can no more be taken for granted than a knowledge of Japanese. (Actually, the latter is a more frequent visitor to the modern UK secondary curriculum). Haydn would have expected to hear the harder Austro-Germanic pronunciation of Latin, with hard ‘g’ in virginis, and ‘c’ in crucifixus, for example; I’m pleased to report that all concerned here take the softer Italianate course.

JS raises the possibility that the set as a whole is superior even to Hickox (Chandos CHAN0599, also available separately) or Guest (Argo/Decca). I’m not quite sure that I would go that far, but I was impressed enough by the single CD under consideration to wish to sample more of the set via the Naxos Music Library.

I’ve already praised the quality of the Naxos notes. One small complaint concerns the absence of texts, but the Tridentine Latin Mass is pretty well known and the texts and translations are available online, as indicated above: they can be yours even without buying the CD.

Overall, I think that WH is right to prefer John Eliot Gardiner (Philips 470 2862, with the Theresienmesse) and Trevor Pinnock (DG Archiv 423 0972, with the Te Deum). I recommended the Pinnock version of the ‘Nelson’ Mass as Download of the Month in my May 2009 Download Roundup) and thoroughly agree with WH that it offers a life-enhancing experience, but I can’t imagine purchasers of the present CD being disappointed with J Owen Burdick’s performances. Having heard the recording right through once, I couldn’t wait to hear it all again, instead of taking the usual time out to gather my impressions. Go for Pinnock for the best - even at full price and rather short value - but the new Naxos makes a very fine and less expensive alternative.

-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International

HAYDN Masses: in d, “Lord Nelson”; 1 in B?, “Creation” 2 • Helmut Rilling, cond; Letizia Scherrer (sop); 1 Roxana Constantinescu (alt); 1,2 Maximilian Schmitt (ten); 1 Michael Nagy (bs); 1 Donna Brown (sop); 2 Lothar Odinius (ten); 2 Markus Eiche (bs); 2 Bach-Collegium, Stuttgart; 1 Gächinger Kantorei; Oregon Bach Festival O & Ch 2 • HÄNSSLER 98.279 (78:47)


In every way this is a magnificent release, one that offers contrasting sonorities for these glorious scores, two of the half dozen that comprise the crowning masterpieces of Haydn’s last years. Although modern instruments and pitch are used in both performances, that of the “Nelson” Mass suggests period practices in its more transparent, astringent sonorities, purer string tone, and seemingly smaller chorus. If this last view appears equivocal, it is because the more distant perspective of the engineering for the “Nelson” may be contributing to the impression. Despite the fine modern-instrument accounts of these scores recorded for London/Decca by David Willcocks and George Guest, and the equally impressive period-instrument versions by John Eliot Gardiner for Philips, this new release is complementary to them in that it offers readings that differ from both. In general, Rilling favors a narrower range of tempos than does Gardiner and, in faster sections an urgency that Guest and Willcocks do not match. But all of these divergent readings convey the miraculous essence of these Masses: Haydn’s command of making a simple tonic-dominant progression deeply touching; his delight in bold (and typically “surprising”) harmonic turns; and most of all, perhaps, his prevailing daring and originality in bringing the symphonic Mass to a level of perfection previously unmatched. Certainly Rilling’s projection of both scores suits not only their wide-ranging melodic and dramatic richness, but how, more than anything else—in their joyous affirmation of life—they transcend the liturgy that inspired them. A thoroughly recommendable disc.


FANFARE: Mortimer H. Frank

As Haydn scholar H.C. Landon explains, ‘it is clear that with this Missa Cellensis…he reached, and reached with panache and astonishing vigour, the popular style for which he had been so long and so diligently searching.’ For this reason, the Mariazellermesse ‘is both the precursor to Haydn’s late Masses as well as the culmination of his early efforts in the genre.’ Fourteen years elapsed before Haydn’s setting of the Mass in Time of War, also known as the Paukenmesse because of his evocative use of the timpani; the work demonstrates Haydn’s new approach to the Mass, including dramatic extremes and more frequent integration of solo and chorus.

In 1805, towards the end of his immensely productive and successful career, Haydn significantly expanded the youthful Missa brevis setting he had composed over fifty years earlier, enriching the orchestration with flute, clarinets, bassoons, trumpets and timpani. The other work on this disc, his Mass in B flat major of 1801, gained its nickname ‘Creation Mass’ from a short quotation taken from his most famous oratorio. Although this upset the Empress Marie Therese, audiences to this day smile in recognition at this musical phrase, which enlivens the work’s overarching mood of splendour.

This eighth and final volume of Naxos’s acclaimed survey of Haydn’s Masses contrasts the intimately scaled Little Organ Mass with the symphonically conceived Mass in B flat major, nicknamed Theresienmesse after Marie Therese (wife of Emperor Francis II and soprano soloist in the first performances of The Creation (8.557380–81) and The Seasons (8.557600–01)). The Great Organ Mass is available on 8.572125 as well as in the 8-CD boxed set of the Complete Haydn Masses (8.508009): ‘Bravo!’ (Early Music America); ‘…monumental recording…the first-ever collection of the complete Haydn Masses performed on period instruments.’ (Baker & Taylor CD Hotlist)

Exceptionally elegant performances from a first rate band of musicians.

Although it is for his instrumental music, primarily symphonies, string quartets and works for solo piano that Josef Haydn is most known, he was quite given to writing for voices and left behind a sizeable output of operas, twelve authenticated masses and numerous other settings of sacred texts for choir, soloists and orchestra. This program gives us his first and last words in the mass genre, one by an exuberant boy of seventeen the other by a tired and weary old man, although one could never discern the composer’s fatigue by listening to the music.

The Missa Brevis in F is a little gem of economy, with Haydn sailing through the wordy Credo in under three minutes, a feat he accomplished by stacking phrases of the text on top of one another and distributing them throughout the voice parts. The unusual scoring for only two solo voices, both sopranos might have been a vehicle for he and his brother Michael, though it does stretch belief a bit to think of a seventeen year old with an unchanged voice.

The Harmoniemesse is one of Haydn’s final works, written for the birthday celebrations of the Esterhazy Princess in 1802. The composer soon took his leave of the Esterhazy family after decades of service and although he lived another seven years, he did little composing after this period. There is no evidence in this joyful and exuberant mass that Haydn was at all ill. In fact, his later masses have been criticized over the years for their joyous optimism, and sometimes overly upbeat settings of the more reflective and serious parts of the texts. Be that as it may, this is a masterpiece, beautifully augmented by the full complement of wind instruments that give the mass its nickname of “harmonie.”

These are performances of divinely understated elegance. Singing from the choir is dead in tune and beautifully balanced. Phrases are splendidly shaped and tempo choices are spot on. The Trinity Choir is full of fine soloists, and there is some magnificent singing from sopranos Ann Hoyt and Julie Liston is the Missa Brevis. The Rebel Baroque Orchestra is a tight band of precision players. The clarity of their playing, especially in fast passages is without flaw. The one and only defect in this production is the lack of texts and translations in the booklet. The program notes are informative and interesting and not loaded with blow by blow descriptions of the music.

These are performances of almost text-book perfection and will be a delight to any lover of choral music. With really nothing to criticize, I can say nothing more but go add this fine recording to your library.

-- Kevin Sutton, MusicWeb International

HAYDN Mass No. 11 in d, “Lord Nelson.” Symphony No. 102 in B • Martin Pearlman, cond; Mary Wilson (sop); Abigail Fischer (mez); Keith Jameson (ten); Kevin Deas (bs); Boston Baroque (period instruments) • LINN 426 (SACD: 62:03 Text and Translation)

REVIEW

WOWZA! This performance is so good that it instantly peels back the dust and crud that may have surrounded this work and immediately places it on the high end of Haydn’s output. Originally titled Mass in a Time of Anxiety —a title that in many ways suits this work better, since it is uplifting and cheerful—it somehow became associated with British Admiral Horatio Nelson. The music skims and sings its merry way through one’s mind while listening; despite its liturgical text, the upbeat feel of the music and its wonderfully changing harmonies and moods make it sound more like a secular oratorio. And what a wonderful quartet of singers Pearlman has assembled here! It starts with soprano Mary Wilson, whose beautiful and flexible voice leaps and skips through the Kyrie, and goes all the way down to rich-voiced basso Kevin Deas, who dominates the Qui tollus peccata mundi. (The booklet informs us that this miraculous singer is “most acclaimed for his signature portrayal of the title role in Porgy and Bess. ” *Sigh*, I’m so sick and tired of seeing this. Have a major African-American bass or baritone emerge, and heaven forbid you start hiring them in major operatic roles. Just let them keep on singing Porgy.) Mezzo Fischer and tenor Jameson are heard to their best advantage in Et incarnates est. And of course, that chorus is spot-on; and everyone has clear diction. Hallelujah!

It is when one reaches the Symphony No. 102 that you suddenly realize that Pearlman’s string section is adhering like Crazy Glue to the immutable doctrine of Straight Tone, but again his performance is so effervescent and lively that one doesn’t mind so much. There are too many little touches in the way he conducts this music where the orchestra dips and glides joyously for me to enumerate them, but believe me, they are there.

Stylistically, these are fairly straightforward readings. Pearlman doesn’t employ the slightly asymmetrical rubato style that I generally like in Haydn, but neither does the performance sound the least bit hard driven. Everything has a wonderful flow and energy, and he never sounds as if he is pile-driving the music, yet the incessant joie de vivre of this performance is bubbly and infectious. And oh yes, the SACD sound is clear and natural. This one is clearly a winner.

--Fanfare (Lynn René Bayley)

Import Hybrid-SACD pressing.

Recorded in: Blackheath Halls, London 20-22 July 1999 Producer(s) Nicholas Anderson Sound Engineer(s) Ralph Couzens Richard Smoker (Assistant)

The art form that became known as the lied may not have been a prominent feature of Haydn's output, but his collections of songs for solo voice have nevertheless retained their appeal to this day. This recording presents a selection of these charming works, drawing especial attention to the two stages of development into which they are divisible: while the first set, written in the 1780s, centre around witty epigram (be they pastoral in mood, containing moralising overtones or expressing unrequited love), the second set, composed in the following decade and based on texts by the English poetess Anne Hunter, highlight what one contemporaneous newspaper described as Haydn's 'sophisticated popularity' and reveal a predilection for folk song through their rhapsodic and often elegiac flavour.

Accompanied by Walter Olbertz and performing these works is one of the greatest artists of the past century, acclaimed soprano Arleen Augér. The recording is testament to what the late American singer did best: her exceptional command of the lied, which became an increasingly important part of her later career, and her predilection for the Classical and Baroque repertoires. 'Listening to a song recorded by Arleen Auger, one might be inclined to credit the engineers for some of the apparent perfection. That any singer should be able to sustain such effortless lines, such pure and exquisitely gauged sound, so consistently, seems unbelievable. Believe it.' (Los Angeles Times).

Other information:
- It is already 20 years ago that the great soprano Arleen Auger tragically died at the age of 53, one of the most wonderful, moving and unique voices of her generation.
- This issue of Haydn songs is a tribute to that voice, which finds pure poetry, clarity and beauty in these relatively unassuming Lieder of Joseph Haydn, elegant, charming and witty as they are.
- Recorded in 1980, booklet providing liner notes, biography and songs texts in original language (both German and English).

Vladimir Feltsman has a long-established reputation as a major artist. His 1987 arrival in the United States (after a seven-year shutdown of his career by Soviet authorities) was greeted with loud huzzahs. His first American recital took place at the White House, and his ensuing Carnegie Hall debut was recorded in its entirety. His repertoire covers everything from Bach through the 20th century. Recording first for Melodiya, then for Sony, then Camerata, he has now made a great many recordings for Nimbus since 2008.


These seem to be Feltsman’s first recordings of Haydn; his readings are very personal, as if he were trying to be different from every other performance or recording. There are many unmarked and unexpected tempo changes, some amounting to Luftpausen more appropriate to mid-19th-century music. Such playing can be either invigorating in its freshness or cloying in its fussiness; it would no doubt upset period practice purists. As a long-time lover of conductor Willem Mengelberg’s erratic ways, I would expect to be open to Feltsman’s performances, but I can be invigorated and exasperated by the same passage on succeeding days. I am bothered by Feltsman’s wildly inconsistent playing of the C-Minor Sonata, but maybe that’s just me: I have never been satisfied with any performance and am not even sure what I want from this often recorded piece. The only pianist to come close is Youri Egorov, yet I cannot cite anything special in his recording; he just plays it straight, offering no special insight.


I listen again as I write this, and I continue to be disturbed by the dichotomy: Such magnificent pianism takes the breath away, yet such inappropriate music-making almost loses Haydn. Then comes the opening Presto of the E-Minor Sonata: Feltsman understands well that the vibrancy of a Presto is never based on speed alone. Every mark in the score is faithfully observed, the clarity and sheer life of the playing are inimitable; there is only one slight slowdown at an internal cadence, and a thrilling virtuoso flourish—lasting less than a second—is tossed into the second repeat. I could keep, and recommend, this two-CD set for this one track. But the following Adagio is filled with bluster and virtuoso posturing (in his program notes, Feltsman calls it “elaborate ornamentation in the manner of C.P.E. Bach.”), and the final Vivace molto wanders fitfully, searching in vain for its true character. So it goes throughout both discs. Listening again to the C-Minor Sonata, Feltsman produces a lovely, yearning character in the opening measures, but after a minute or so his odd phrasings, unexpected pauses, and sudden violent attacks spoil the mood.


The opening Andante con espressione of the C-Major Sonata is fascinating here. Feltsman’s left hand is leonine, like nothing since Cliburn. But a cutesy twist of the three chords in measure nine breaks the spell before it has a chance settle in. In the Presto , there is an awkward moment during the repeat of measure 17 (at 0:37) that sounds like a too-tight edit, cutting a fraction of a second from the music. Nimbus’s trademark reverberance is too much for this tempo, blurring what seems to be pristine pianism. The Eb Variations are gentle, subtle music, and Feltsman has a strong feeling for them. There is not a single virtuoso excess in its 17 minutes.


It’s clear that Feltsman can do anything he wants at the keyboard, and do it better than almost anyone else. One constantly receives the impression that one is listening to a dominant artist. But his style of playing generally does not suit Haydn—Sviatoslav Richter could get away with it because he was so sensitive to every type of music. It works on and off for Feltsman. I equate his playing with Nimbus’s recorded sound: both are brilliant but overdone, too glittering, too shiny. Has any piano ever sounded this bright, with a tiny halo around every note? The results are not for me, but that doesn’t mean they may not be for you. What I do recommend is that every piano lover hear these performances.


Postscript : The package is a single-CD-sized jewel case, but the swinging inner tray fell out every time I opened it. It’s long past time to abandon the fragile jewel case.

FANFARE: James H. North

HAYDN Organ Concertos: in C, Hob XVIII:1,8,10. Harpsichord Concertos: in C, Hob XVIII:5; in F, Hob XVIII:7 • Helmut Müller-Brühl, cond; Harald Hoeren (org); Ketil Gaugsand (hpd); Cologne CO • NAXOS 8.570486 (72:46)


These early concertos—from the 1750s, although some were revised in the 1760s—were written to be played by either organ or harpsichord, which is why this disc is entitled “Keyboard Concertos.” In Brilliant Classics’s recent 150-CD “Haydn Edition,” all five of these works were played on an organ. The music is conventional, having elements both Baroque and rococo, but it is still Haydn, which means spirit and quality as well as competence. The only lack is individuality; I would hate to face a blind audition of each movement—especially if you switched solo instruments. These performances are also conventional, too much so. The modern-instrument band produces very little color, and less variety of it. Bland, tubby recorded sound reinforces that feeling; trumpets in the C-Major pieces are barely noticeable, and drumbeats are little more than extra reverberances. By contrast, Brilliant’s period-instrument Ensemble Dolce Risonanza produces vibrant colors and violent explosions. The tables are turned with the soloists, however; Brilliant’s Anton Holzapfel can hardly get a note in edgewise among all those dolce risonanzas, whereas both Hoeren and Gaugsand take the lead when called upon and give imaginative, well-rounded performances. The best things here are the Allegro finales, which are taken at spirited, upbeat tempos.


This disc is in no way necessary, but you’re sure to enjoy it.


FANFARE: James H. North

Nothing contrasts Haydn’s music with that of his contemporary and friend Mozart like their keyboard concertos. Haydn wrote some 14 concertos to Mozart’s 27, and many of these were as capable of being played on the organ or harpsichord as on the fortepiano. Admittedly the early Mozart concertos also lend themselves to the harpsichord – I have a recording of no. 9, the “Jeunehomme”, on that instrument. But Mozart’s mature concertos are inseparable from the dynamic contrasts of the fortepiano. He, far more than Haydn, grasped the potential for dramatic and intimate dialogue between soloist and orchestra. The result is that, while Mozart’s concertos are central to his evolution as a composer, the same cannot be said of those by Haydn.

The Haydn keyboard concertos are nevertheless worth getting to know. The two earliest examples on this recording date from 1770-71, and are pleasant works in the Galant style. The last, no. 11 in D major, has been dated to 1779-80, and is much more in the style of the Classical concerto. For most people this work is “The Haydn keyboard concerto”; it has received far more recordings than any other of Haydn’s keyboard concertos. On the present disc these concertos are all played on a fortepiano by Jolanda Violante, with a period instruments orchestra.

There are no notes about the instrument Violante is playing, but it sounds like a modern copy of a fortepiano. Unfortunately the sound of this instrument is the major letdown of this disc. It is just not very interesting, having little of the contrasting registers and tonal variety of historic fortepianos like a Stein or Graf. I don’t know if it has an una corda pedal, but if so I couldn’t hear any trace of it; this effect would have added some much needed variety to its tone colour.

Violante does not add much ornamentation, or employ rubato noticeably, except in the slow movements. Her playing of these works is generally very enjoyable; her passage work is clean and her demeanour is both sprightly and imperturbable. Occasionally, for example in the “Hungarian” finale of no. 11, she races the orchestra in a vivacious fashion. The light action of the fortepiano comes into its own in the outer movements, allowing Violante to rattle off the extended scale and arpeggio passages at great velocity. But the slow movements are a little on the dull side, mainly because of the rather dead-sounding solo instrument.

The orchestra has an attractively “coloured” sound and plays in excellent style, with the usual period instrument dynamic bulges. The finales are attacked with real brio and vitality. No information is given about this ensemble, but they sound quite small in number. Winds feature only in no. 11; the liner-notes mention that no. 3 includes a pair of ad libitum horn parts, but only strings are used for this and no. 4. For some reason the orchestra sounds a bit livelier (and louder) in concertos nos. 3 and 4 than in no. 11. This is a pity, because it means that, although no. 11 is the most substantial work on this disc, it gets the most distant recording.

Leif Ove Andsnes recorded the same three Haydn concertos in 2000 with the Norwegian Chamber Orchestra. That recording received Gramophone magazine’s award for "Best Concerto Recording" for that year. On that disc (EMI Classics 56960), the concertos are played in ascending number order; for some reason, the Brilliant disc plays them in the reverse order. Andsnes directs the orchestra as well as playing the solo on a modern grand piano, and does both with his usual sensitivity. Tempos are similar to those on the Brilliant disc. Although the orchestra plays on modern instruments, it adopts several period-instrument practices. These performances thus have most of the advantages of a historically informed performance, with none of the drawbacks. The Concerto no. 11 is also available in the same recording on the compilation disc set “Leif Ove Andsnes: a portrait” (EMI Classics 74789).

Those who dislike the fortepiano won’t be converted by this release. However its bargain price, together with Jolanda Violante’s stylish playing and a really excellent period orchestra are undoubted attractions.

-- Guy Aron, MusicWeb International