Beethoven: Symphony No. 3 in E-Flat Major, Op. 55 "Eroica"

This is DOREMI's 11th volume featuring rare recordings by David Oistrakh (1908-1974), the most loved and admired violinist of all time. Here he is with the great pianist Lev Oborin (1907-1974). Oborin was the 1st prize winner of the first Chopin competition in Warsaw (1927). Aram Khachaturian dedicated to him his famous piano concerto of 1936. Oborin began his close artistic collaboration with Oistrakh in 1935. Their long association in concerts and recordings, as duo partners and in the David Oistrakh Trio, lasted throughout their lives. The complete set of Beethoven violin sonatas presented here is a set of LIVE PERFORMANCES given by David Oistrakh and Lev Oborin in Paris in 1962. It is not the studio recording of the Beethoven sonatas they made in the same year and which was released by Philips and other labels. This live set is marked by its superior, highly intense music making and a magic appeal that makes it clearly preferable to the one made in the studio.

According to Ates Tanin’s notes, Leonid Kogan and his brother-in-law, Emil Gilels, played together in Moscow and elsewhere, yet they never recorded anything in the studio. DOREMI has made available three Beethoven Violin Sonatas from one of their live performances. The engineers seem to have placed the microphones close to the players—but closer to Kogan than to Gilels. Kogan’s sound may be all the edgier as a result, but the proximity also magnifies already colossal Beethoven: stormy even in the Third Sonata, thunderous in the “Spring” (the Scherzo’s trio spawns a virtual tornado), and volcanic in the “Kreutzer.” Some have dismissed Kogan as a bland technician, conceding that his technical wizardry’s worthy to be mentioned in the same breath as Heifetz’s and Milstein’s but insisting that he didn’t project the same kind of individuality. Those detractors might do well to listen to him playing Beethoven violin sonatas with Gilels. Although the earlier works (and even the “Kreutzer” itself) may be designated as sonatas for piano and violin, Kogan holds the stage as though he were playing the Violin Concerto. Yet Gilels swells in stature to such a magnitude that he simply can’t be overwhelmed. Engineering alone could never have accounted for this effect. Sometimes, as in the “Spring” Sonata and in the “Kreutzer” Sonata’s theme and variations, the close miking gives the impression that the duo never relaxes; and there may be some truth in that observation. But the “Kreutzer” ’s final adrenaline-drenched cadence having arrived, there’s little temptation to quibble. Anne-Sophie Mutter tried to introduce a novel, strongly personal view of Beethoven (in both the sonatas and the Concerto) and produced instead a reflection that many will not find cogent. David Oistrakh’s performances of the work that I’ve heard, though profoundly and powerfully conceived, don’t generate Kogan and Gilels’s crackling voltage. Among the great violinists of the preceding generation, perhaps Francescatti came closest to the sheer energy of these readings. But even after the effects of the unusually close recording and the potentiating effect of the live audience (which must have inspired both Kogan and Gilels) have been filtered out, the residual supercharge could light a city for a year.

It’s tempting to conclude that these wouldn’t be optimal choices for anyone who doesn’t already know the works, but that caution would undervalue the ability of the program’s sheer communicative power to attract new devotees to Beethoven, to the violin sonatas, or even to music in general. Acquisition of DOREMI’s re-mastering, therefore, should be as urgent a priority for those who know nothing as for those who know everything; it should be especially attractive to those who wish to experience Beethoven in the pit of the stomach.

Robert Maxham, FANFARE

Oistrakh Collection, Vol. 10: Beethoven with Richter

Classical Music

This Beethoven 9th was originally released by Music & Arts on MACD292 in 1986 and was newly remastered in 2006; the 8th, taken from the same concert, has not previously appeared. Critic Henry Fogel wrote of the original issue of the 9th in Fanfare: 'The Concertgebouw plays if possessed, the chorus sings in the same manner, and one listens to this performance feeling the impact of great music being performed with the deepest of emotional and intellectual conviction'.

Also available on Blu-ray

A film by Claus Wischmann and Martin Baer

featuring:
Orchestre Symphonique Kimbanguiste
Armand Diangienda, conductor

Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: Dolby Digital 2.0 and 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, German, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Korean, Russian
Running time: 95 mins
No. of DVDs: 1 (DVD 9)

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An inspiring story, movingly told.

Kinshasa, the Congolese capital, is a sprawling city of ten million. It lies at the heart of a country blighted by civil strife, the latest of which - the so-called Second Congo War that began in 1998 - has killed more than five million people. And despite a fragile peace, the violence continues in the east of the country. Against this backdrop, the very existence of the Orchestre Symphonique Kimbanguiste (OSK) is nothing short of a miracle. Composed of largely self-taught musicians and singers it’s an extraordinary band of human beings who travel miles to get to rehearsals, buy their own sheet music and - when necessary - make their own instruments.

And that’s just for starters. Even more astonishing is the enthusiasm and good humour that infuses this project. There are problems aplenty, not least an intermittent supply of electricity, but then one of the orchestra’s viola players, Joseph Lutete, is also a skilled electrician and will down his instrument to fix the generator. As for the orchestra manager Albert Matubanza, whose supply of instruments was long since looted, he’s reduced to touring scrap yards for off-cuts to make a double bass. And from the outset the snippets of O fortuna, Va pensiero and the rehearsals for the finale of Beethoven’s Ninth are all played and sung in a way that’s uniquely African. There’s even an improvised Boléro-in-the-bush that had me laughing out loud at the ingenuity and persistence of these musicians.

Film-makers Claus Wischmann and Martin Baer have opted for a very simple, self-revealing narrative style, in which the orchestra members introduce themselves to camera in the most natural and disarming way. Flautist Nathalie Bahati speaks candidly of her unexpected pregnancy, absent boyfriend and unscrupulous landlord, all part of a daunting daily grind that’s borne with remarkable fortitude and grace. And then there’s the OSK’s founder, Armand Diangienda, a former pilot who lost his job and formed the orchestra in 1994. He and the ongoing rehearsals for that Beethoven finale - the words of which are especially poignant in this context - form the central thread of this fascinating drama.

Professional musicians are well-known for their gripes and grumbles, and I daresay they wouldn’t be too keen to rehearse in the cramped, run-down spaces their African counterparts have to endure. And if we have to work hard to persuade others of the pleasures of classical music spare a thought for the young man sent out into the city’s decaying suburbs - built for rich Belgians - to deliver leaflets for the upcoming concert. The local ‘pop’ that peppers the soundtrack and the incomprehension of the populace is countered by good humour and high spirits all round. This is intercut with shots of everyday life in the city and Diangienda cajoling his motley choir in the Ode to joy. The music is always recognisable, but rhythms are distinctly African, blessed with an age-old fluidity and cadence that’s very moving indeed.

And as anyone familiar with Africa will know, public transport is a fraught affair. Like everyone else Lutete and his fellow musicians have to squeeze on to a packed van or mini-bus to get to rehearsals. It’s frustrating, but it’s endured with none of the exasperation and hostility one might expect. This is a daily rhythm of its own, and everyone seems willing enough to sway with it. Even when Lutete practises amidst the crowds - one of several rather wistful vignettes in the film - his viola takes on a timbre all of its own, both songful and searching; and that pretty much sums up the sound of this orchestra as a whole, whose tuning-up at a rehearsal may be wayward but it still has that frisson we all know so well.

This is a well-crafted film, and there’s a palpable tension as all the strands are pulled together for the final concert. And speaking of strands, fiddlers will be aghast to hear that replacement strings are sometimes made from bicycle brake cables. Oh, you need a trumpet bell? Try this wheel rim from a mini-bus. This really is a scratch orchestra, and there’s a delightful sequence in which two singers struggle with Schiller’s texts, coming up with the strangest pronunciations. As always, there’s a passion, a fierce hunger, that conquers all. And it’s easy to understand the sentiments of one of the singers, for whom the music is a passport - albeit temporary - to somewhere ‘far away’.

But escaping the problems of daily life isn’t always that easy. Cello player Joséphine Nsemba - who makes and sells omelettes from a market stall - has to struggle with the price of eggs and, as a parent, wrestle with fears for her young son as he’s operated on in a terribly basic hospital. Even the doughty Diangienda comes close to despondency when rehearsing the choir, which is in deep disarray. This is the rough, unforgiving milieu in which these people find themselves, and for a few seconds the mask slips and desperation shows.

That said, the big night arrives - it takes place outside, under floodlights - with the Ode to joy and O fortuna. And how does it go? Well, I suggest you buy this disc and find out. The bonus track has four short items - Joséphine and Albert make music, Joseph at the market, Héritier teaches, and Chantal on her daily bread run. They afford a glimpse of private moments, all captured in a relaxed, non-intrusive way. As for the editing, it’s wonderfully poetic at times - a smile, a frown, a look of quiet contentment - the final frames especially so.

Any grumbles? Not really, although the narrative does falter a little towards the end. That said, the leisurely, unforced pace of this documentary is a pleasure from start to finish. And yes, many issues are left untouched but, to be fair, this isn’t a multi-part television series with plenty of time to tease and probe. As for Martin Baer’s cinematography, it’s always crisp and elegant, colours vibrant and images sharp; most welcome, though, is the refreshing lack of voice-overs or overt editorialising, so the film never becomes a political statement or polemic.

An inspiring story, movingly told.

– Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International

BEETHOVEN Symphonies: No. 3;1 No. 92 • Herbert von Karajan, cond; Elisabeth Grümmer (sop); Marga Höffgen (alt); Ernst Haefliger (ten); Gottlob Frick (bs); St. Hedwig’s Cathedral Ch; Berlin PO • AUDITE 23 414, mono (2 CDs: 123:56) Live: Berlin 9/8/1953;1 4/25/19572

"The Audite release...is remarkable on a number of levels. For one thing, each of the symphonies it offers was recorded at a concert marking a historic event, the “Eroica” from one that comprised the first post-war public appearance of the Berlin Philharmonic, that of the Ninth occurring on the 75th anniversary of that orchestra. Musically, each is a defining point in Karajan’s approach to Beethoven. The earliest of the conductor’s surviving accounts of the “Eroica” is a 1944 performance with the Prussian State Orchestra of Berlin (possibly still available on Koch 1509). It is the broadest of the six Karajan versions that I have heard. This 1953 account is very different. In many respects it anticipates the lean, comparative fleetness of the conductor’s last (all digital) effort for DG. Indeed, it is often a more incisive version than Karajan’s recording from the previous year with the Philharmonia Orchestra. But it also features occasional rhythmic ruptures that characterized Furtwängler’s approach, albeit less extreme. Unfortunately, the sound, although ample in presence and free of tape hiss, is marred by an unpleasant metallic harshness in the strings that cannot be neutralized with a treble control. But a flexible equalizer should help to improve things. This Ninth Symphony from five years later is remarkable for the way it echoes Karajan’s first studio effort (with the Vienna Philharmonic from 1947, still available on a single EMI CD). Particularly noteworthy are the cascading, explosive legatos of the first movement and, on the negative side, some undue haste in the finale. But this live account offers greater intensity in the second movement, where a first repeat (omitted in 1947) is included. Moreover, it is sonically better than that recording, and vastly superior in that regard to the strident “Eroica” included in this set. A few bloopers from the horns simply add to the “live” ethos. Certainly, for those who admire Karajan, this release should have great appeal."

FANFARE: Mortimer H. Frank

Glenn Gould maintained a very peculiar relationship, a sort of love and hate, with Beethoven's music, which he performed out of any traditional scheme or system. This CD presents two further Beethoven rarities in live recordings by the Canadian pianist, the first being the Piano Concerto No.1 in C, op. 15, recorded in Turin, Italy on 23 January 1951 when Gould was only nineteen. The Piano Concerto No.3 in c, op. 37, with the Canadian Radio Orchestra under conductor Heinz Unger, was recorded four years later, on 21 February 1955. This very significant addition to the discography of Glenn Gould furthers the image of this eclectic, fascinating and singular artist.

Garrick Ohlsson completes his survey of Beethoven's monumental thirty-two sonatas, a project that the great American pianist has been working on for more than a decade. (Volume 3 of this series, won the 2008 Grammy for "Best Instrumental Performance".)

BEETHOVEN Symphonies: No. 7; No. 8. Leonore Overture No. 3 • Ferenc Fricsay, cond; Berlin RIAS SO • AUDITE 95.593, mono (75:22)


These recordings were made between 1952 ( Lenore ) and 1954 (No. 8) with the RIAS (Radio in the American Sector) orchestra under studio conditions in the Jesus-Christus-Kirche, home to Karajan’s first stereo Beethoven cycle for DG a decade later. A recording of the Overture appeared on disc as part of an EMI Fricsay collection reviewed by James Miller in 26:2, but I believe it was a live transcription rather than the studio version heard here. The Audite engineers have done a very creditable job, providing a clean-sounding remaster with plenty of instrumental detailing—the winds in the Presto from No. 7, for example; the sound is on the bright side, but there is quite adequate bass as well.


The performance of the Seventh is impressive, with little of the “measured, weighty approach” that Miller detected in Fricsay’s performance of the “Eroica.” Tempos aren’t quite up to those supported by the latest research, but the only other remnants of old-school Beethoven interpretation that some (like me) will find objectionable are the omission of repeats in the first movement Vivace and in the fourth movement Allegro con brio. Those cuts aside, this is an enjoyable, spirited performance, with a convincingly fluid Allegretto and a rollicking, boisterous Presto.


As annotator Friedrich Sprondel writes, “Fricsay moves his performance of the Eighth towards the Seventh,” mostly by investing the first and last movements with a four-square deliberateness, and presenting the Eighth as the logical if slightly anachronistic bridge between the Seventh and the majestic Ninth. Absent the kind of light-textured, energetic reading more regularly heard now, this Eighth becomes monotonous, a kind of lumbering pixie trying to impress with its nimble footwork. The orchestra is impressive, however, and can’t be faulted for whatever disappointment the performance produces.


The recording of the Lenore Overture shows its age more than the symphonies, with copious tape hiss and exceedingly thin-sounding brass. This is a dramatically convincing (if occasionally slow-paced) performance, however, evidence of Fricsay’s years in the opera house (where he programmed the overture at the end of the opera as a kind of “dramatic résumé”).


Aficionados of Ferenc Fricsay will want this disc; I can happily recommend it to those listeners interested in postwar Beethoven and high-quality mono-era recordings.


FANFARE: Christopher Abbot

This is the famous performance given in memory of Arturo Toscanini by Mr. Walter. It was originally released in 1973 on Lp by the predecessor company Educational Media Associates, to Music and Arts. The performance was later released on CD and was an international best seller for over a decade. Deleted about four years ago, this title has been re-issued in response to wide-spread demand. In his review in Fanfare Mortimer H. Frank found the reading "closer to a Toscanini-like leanness than to the weightiness Walter usually favored."

Beethoven: Violin Concerto - Romances Nos. 1 & 2

BEETHOVEN Trio in G for Flute, Bassoon, and Piano, WoO 37. Serenade in D for Flute, Violin, and Viola, op. 25. Piano Trio in B?, op. 11, “Gassenhauer” • Oslo P Chamber Group • LAWO 1034 (SACD: 69:28)


Here is an absolute winner: a disc of early, lightweight Beethoven chamber works, superbly and charmingly performed by members of the Oslo Philharmonic.


Per Flemstrøm, Per Hannisdal, and Gonzalo Moreno open the program with one of Beethoven’s earliest surviving works, the Trio in G Major for Flute, Bassoon, and Piano, WoO 37, believed to have been written sometime around 1785 by the 15-year-old composer while still living under the family roof in Bonn. It’s fairly certain that the piece was composed for domestic use by the Westerholt household, whose daughter was receiving piano lessons from Beethoven, and whose father and son played bassoon and flute, respectively. The piano part is quite advanced, which tells us that both the young Beethoven and his pupil, Maria Anna, were already quite technically accomplished. Of particular interest is the last movement of this not insignificant work, a fairly sophisticated and well-worked-out theme and variations, which foretells of the importance variations would play in Beethoven’s later works. The piece is not without a number of prior recordings, but Flemstrøm, Hannisdal, and Moreno play with such verve and vivacity it’s hard to imagine a performance more delightful.


Fairly early in his career, Beethoven ceased composing serenade and divertimento-type chamber works intended for domestic music-making by the amateurs among his wealthy, aristocratic patrons. Written in 1801, the Serenade in D Major for Flute, Violin, and Viola, op. 25, is the last of such pieces, though it’s not certain who the intended recipients were. The somewhat odd scoring—flute, violin, and viola—which renders the piece a bit bass-shy, is almost sure evidence that Beethoven had a particular trio of players in mind; as an accomplished violist, perhaps he even wrote the viola part for himself. In any case, the piece conforms, more or less, to the six-movement layout of such works, though the composer substitutes a scherzo for the fifth movement in place of what would traditionally have been a second Menuetto.


The Serenade has enjoyed several more outings on record than has the WoO 37 Trio—some of which, like those by James Galway and friends on RCA and the Gaudier Ensemble on Hyperion, are truly excellent—but none surpasses the current performance by flutist Flemstrøm, violinist Elise Båtnes, and violist Henninge Landaas.


Most frequently recorded and best known of the three works on the disc is the Piano Trio, op. 11. One has a choice, however, as to the instrumentation in which one prefers to hear it. Composed in 1797, Beethoven originally scored the piece for clarinet, cello, and piano, but the Trio was published the following year with an optional violin transcription of the clarinet part to be used in the absence of a clarinet. The nickname by which the piece is known, “Gassenhauer,” derives from the last movement’s set of variations, which is based on an aria, “Pria ch’io l’impegno” from Joseph Weigl’s comic opera, L’amor marinaro ossia Il corsaro , a tune which became so popular that people were heard humming, whistling, and singing it in Vienna’s Gassen (lanes).


Many piano trio ensembles—i.e., violin, cello, and piano—include op. 11 in their surveys of Beethoven’s canon of standard piano trios, designating it No. 4, which results in the trios following it being bumped up in number by one: the “Ghost” becomes No. 5, op. 70/2 becomes No. 6, and the “Archduke” becomes No. 7. The work is performed here in its original scoring for clarinet, and, like its companions on the disc, it’s beautifully done. Leif Arne Pedersen’s clarinet is as sweet as honeyed nectar, and while Beethoven’s writing for the cello is not as technically challenging as it is in the op. 5 sonatas, which were composed for Jean-Pierre Duport, one of the great cello virtuosos of the age, cellist Bjørn Solum finds felicities of musical detail in the part that are often glossed over by other players. For clarinet versions of the trio, this performance easily matches in stature another recent favorite of mine by David Shifrin, David Finckel, and Wu Han.


Adding to the pleasure of the Oslo’s disc are the refinement and elegance of sound achieved by this Lawo SACD. Very strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Here's a new album that brings together two of Canada's most prominent young musicians, Andrew Wan, concertmaster of the Orchestre symphonique de Montréal since 2008, and Charles Richard-Hamelin, Silver medalist and winner of the Krystian Zimerman award at the International Chopin Piano Competition in 2015. For this first studio collaboration, they recorded the three sonatas of Beethoven's Op. 30, one of the most important works for violin and piano. Wan and Richard-Hamelin’s playing is dynamic and expressive and the result is nothing short of impressive. These works by Beethoven highlight three facets of the composer’s personality. While Sonata No. 6 shows Beethoven’s calmer side, Sonata No. 7 reveals a more tempestuous and tormented man, and the charming Sonata No. 8 displays a touch of humor. This is the first album of three by Wan and Richard-Hamelin that will cover the complete sonatas for violin and piano of Ludwig van Beethoven.