Acclaimed for her 'beautifully clear, warm and intelligent coloratura' and 'naturally bright, vernal timbre', Spanish soprano Maria Bayo has shone as a prima donna internationally, yet reserves a special place for the music of her native country.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Doing my usual bit of online research for re-released recordings, I found these CDs in their former incarnation as credited to the ‘Orchestra of the Old Fairfield Academy’. This band was founded in 1985 by Thomas Crawford, and changed its name to the American Classical Orchestra in 1999. Formed from leading period instrument performers in the New York metropolitan area this is a highly regarded orchestra, and positive commentary on these concerto recordings reflects the excellent quality which you can expect throughout this usefully packaged set. All but one of the wind soloists are members of the orchestra, and very good they are too.

This is a period instrument orchestra, so the sound is accordingly fairly gentle, though by no means hair-shirt. The upper strings are perhaps a little thinner than with a conventional modern orchestra, but with what sounds like gut strings and a minimal use of vibrato this is to be expected. In fact the sound is nicely rounded, almost sumptuous at times, and by no means cold. All of the orchestral instruments are listed at the back of the booklet, with makers’ names both modern and ancient, the modern instruments being replicas of early examples.

Eric Hoeprich is the only soloist not listed as an orchestral member, and indeed, I see him often enough wandering around the Royal Conservatoire in The Hague in his capacity as teacher, so this is no surprise. Far from saving the best until last, CD 1 of this set has some of the finest performances here, and the warm tones of Hoeprich’s basset horn or basset clarinet make for a lovely opening. The Clarinet Concerto in A major, K622 is one of Mozart’s late masterpieces – indeed his last major work, and is given a supremely sensitive if un-extrovert performance on this recording. The choice for using a basset horn is based on the instrument owned by the work’s dedicatee, Anton Stadler. This instrument has a lower range than a conventional clarinet, and the version here uses fairly recently discovered historical references to create as accurate as possible a reproduction of Stadler’s solo, right down to the creation of a new instrument replicating that shown in an engraving from a concert programme from 1794. The extra low sonorities do indeed make for an extra layer of sonority and richness which can be quite unexpected. Either way, it is a recording to cherish as well as one to put alongside old favourites for comparison.

From last to first, the Bassoon Concerto in B flat major K191 was Mozart’s first wind concerto, and despite inhabiting the gallant style of composers senior to Mozart the work is ambitious and technically demanding to soloists even today. Denis Godburn’s instrument has a soft and rounded tone whose warmth is both attractive and distinctive, and the recording is mercifully free of key rattle. Oboe soloist Marc Schachman wrote the booklet notes for this first disc, and he goes into some detail on the origins of the Oboe Concerto in C major K314, which we also hear on disc 2 in a version for flute. Historical mystery and obscurity aside, this is yet another excellent performance, with perhaps only an over-long cadenza to momentarily knock the some of the pace and energy from the first movement. The period oboe has a slightly broader, less sinewy resonance than the modern instrument, and this milder tone again makes for an attractive listen.

CD 2 is given over entirely to the flute concertos, of which the Flute Concerto in G major, K313 is arguably the finest. Sandra Miller plays a traverso flute from the period, which has a tone more akin to a recorder than the modern power-flutes we hear in orchestras these days. Unlike a recorder however, the horizontal blowing hole allows for greater flexibility of dynamics, colour and tuning, and Miller’s nicely centred tone rings out over the orchestra with fine projection and excellent intonation, making one wonder why Mozart had such an apparent loathing for the things. The Adagio non troppo central movement is a particular treat, the solo line topping the string texture while also being enveloped in it in a friendly meeting of musical lines and textures. As previously mentioned, the Flute Concerto in D major K314 is a fairly straight transposition of the Oboe Concerto in C major, if anything being given even more lightness and bounce in the flute version of the opening Allegro aperto. Indeed, the flute version shaves nearly two minutes from the oboe version, though this is partly down to cadenzas, all written or improvised by the soloists on these recordings. The Concerto for Flute and Harp K299 is justly popular, though I am sure this has as much to do with the wonderful sonorities created by this combination of instruments as with the actual musical material. Once again the soloists are beautifully balanced in the recording, and well matched even though there are no surviving usable pedal harps from Mozart’s time. The instrument used here must come close to what he would have expected to hear, with a marvellous transparency and gentle articulation and resonance played with fine musicality by Victoria Drake.

CD 3 covers pretty much all of Mozart’s surviving work for horn and orchestra. As far as absolute completeness goes we only appear to be missing the fragment left of a Horn Concerto K494a, and for that matter the Andante for flute and orchestra K315, but this is of little importance. What we do have are some useful notes by Robert D. Levin, which explains which works were written for whom, and how the score of K370b came to be re-united with itself after having been cut into pieces by Mozart’s son Carl. These performances on a natural horn do not bear comparison with the famous recordings made by the more beefy tones of legendary valve instrument players such as Dennis Brain or Alan Civil. The best period recordings I know are those of Anthony Halstead with Christopher Hogwood on Decca, which are admittedly more lively and characterful than these. R.J. Kelly’s tone is nicely rounded, and as to be expected from a well behaved classical natural horn, fairly restrained. The recording seems to emphasise the ‘damped’ nature of the instrument however, and there isn’t a great deal of contrast in the tone from one phrase or movement to the next. The famous quartet of concertos is K412, K417, K447 and K495, in addition to which we are given a version of a Horn Concerto in E flat major K370b/371 completed by Robert D. Levin in 1993. This was in the process of re-arrangement after Mozart had discovered that his soloist, Joseph Leutgeb, was unable to play the lowest notes at the grand age of 59 due to his loss of teeth. Levin has sorted out the confusion brought about by work done on the piece by Franz Xaver Süssmayr after Mozart’s death, and in any case restored the Mozart’s original intentions, “today’s hornist [not being] bound by Leutgeb’s lack of teeth.” The final track on the CD is the original conception of the Rondo K412, with the addition of faux-operatic vocalisations by Eric Dillner, expounding Mozart’s ‘sardonic dialogue’ as directed at Leutgeb, annotated throughout the score. This bit of fun is of little more than novelty value, and thank goodness the text is given with translation in the booklet. That Mozart, he was a naughty boy...

With technical assuredness and musical sensitivity from a fine set of period music specialist soloists this has to be pretty much the top of the heap when it comes to an authentic/historically informed collection of Mozart’s complete wind concertos. I’ve done a trawl for significant competition, but none of the ‘complete’ sets available seem to be on original instruments. Individual CDs can be found which do provide more impact from the music, and for those willing to spend a little more and do some searching around the Decca/L’Oiseau Lyre Academy of Ancient Music directed by Christopher Hogwood do ultimately provide more satisfaction and depth of quality in general, though these American competitors do come very close indeed. There are one or two moments of very minor orchestral scrappiness in some of the accompaniments with the American Chamber Orchestra, but nothing which will offend even professionally tuned ears too much. The horn concertos are perhaps the least inspiring of the set and more serviceable than magical, but with plenty of scholarly work invested in the preparation of all of these performances there is always plenty of fascination in hearing what must be close to what Mozart’s audiences should have heard at the time.

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco settled in California in the 1940s. Like many another musician cast adrift by the fascism that held sway in Europe from the 1930s to the mid-1940s he found a niche in the artistic life of the States. Hollywood embraced his music for films although none of the great films featured his work – he did however score several of the Lassie films. He moved in the same stratosphere as Heifetz and Piatigorsky; indeed the former commissioned his The Prophets Violin Concerto (No. 2 of 3) and then went on to record it (RCA); as did Perlman.

Among the operas, concertos, oratorios and solo piano music (Naxos, Somm SOMMCD 032) there are two guitar concertos, a serenade for guitar and orchestra, a concerto for two guitars and orchestra and many pieces of chamber music involving the instrument. The first concerto was written partly in Mussolini's Italy and partly in America. If the middle of the three movements of the op. 99 First Concerto sometimes drifts close to Tatiana's Letter Song it is delectable sentimental stuff. The flanking movements are sanguine and proud. They will certainly appeal to anyone who likes Rodrigo's Aranjuez. It's a lovely concerto and well worth tracking down in this very generously timed disc. I hope there is a volume 2 with the Second Concerto, the Serenade and the Concerto for two guitars.

Golondrinas (Swallows) suggests a relaxed saunter along the corniche - a summer evening with the swallows of the title diving and soaring. It's a virtuoso piece as is the eager and bustling La Primavera. The Platero suggests a delicate spray of lilies. The Rondo has some of the aristocratic elegance of the finale of the op. 99 concerto. The three movement op. 133 Suite is a work of beguiling emotional suggestion. This enchanting disc ends with the three movement op. 143 Guitar Quintet. The writing is full of interest with some incidental echoes of Ravel and of Russian nationalism. Again it is cheerful, subtly allusive, dynamic, poetic, playful and at times sweetly eerie. Unlike the much younger Brouwer this music has no truck with dissonance. Its milieu is impressionistic poetry. The string quartet writing is most inventive and by no means a dull stooge to the guitar.

After you have rifled Rodrigo's guitar treasury you must try this. This composer is no Rodrigo epigone but his music shares the Spanish composer’s mood and gift for beguiling invention. You can add this composer's name to that of Manuel Ponce as someone whose guitar music needs to be explored. By the way, do not overlook Ponce's Concerto del Sur for guitar and orchestra. Like so much else from that era including these works by Castelnuovo-Tedesco - it was written for Segovia – recorded by him and also by Alfredo Moreno with Enrique Batiz.

These recordings were originally issued in 2004 on MusicMasters. I hope that there is more to come and if not that Nimbus might find funding for a collection of this composer's concertante works for guitar. It's that good.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

CORELLI Violin Sonatas, op. 5: No. 7 in d; No. 8 in e; No. 9 in A; No. 10 in F; No. 11 in E; No. 12 in d, “La follia” • François Fernandez (vn); Glen Wilson (hpd) (period instruments) • NAXOS 8.557799 (62:53)


François Fernandez and Glen Wilson’s readings of the last six sonatas of Corelli’s op. 5 make up the second of a two-disc set (the first issued by Naxos as 8.557165). Harpsichordist Glen Wilson has provided the notes, in which he discusses the style of ornamentation, the use of harpsichord alone in realizing the figured bass, and the choice of A=400 (at which pitch Fernandez’s 1690 Andrea Guarneri violin, hardly so viola-like as might be expected, retains a surprising edge—of course, Corelli, like many of his contemporaries, avoided more than occasional use of the G string, supposedly because the bulkier string responded more sluggishly, so the higher tessitura doesn’t focus so intently on the instrument’s lower registers). Corelli’s sonatas influenced not only his contemporaries and immediate followers, but generations to come, and Fernandez and Wilson’s performances should make them equally impressive to modern listeners as well—not because of modern instruments or reliance on astringent timbres, but simply because they make these works breathe with a similar vital force as they must have exhibited in their own time. Even in these sonatas da camera the bass counterpoint should hold the most hidebound polyphonist’s attention, yet the melodies flow liquidly in the slow movements and they leap with sprightly, though controlled, energy in the fast ones. In the Ninth Sonata, Fernandez plays, on repeats, the ornaments provided by Corelli’s student, Geminiani, available in Hawkins’s History of Music (elsewhere, they try to remain true to the spirit of models that Roger claimed Corelli himself provided. Geminiani’s “ornaments,” as Wilson notes, amount almost to recomposition—heavy handed ones, in fact, some might think, in the spirit of Geminiani’s reworkings of Corelli’s solo sonatas as concerti grossi). Throughout, Wilson and Fernandez tease the textures of these works—which could alternatively be played with a noble (deadly?) restraint as inviolable masterpieces—with textural highlights, strong underscoring of the signature sequential passages, and zesty tempos. In Fernandez and Wilson’s performance, the famous “Follia” blends a somewhat melancholy dignity with the noted technical brilliance that made it a model for virtuosic showpieces through the generations. In this joie de vivre the duo seems to be having a thumpingly good time, as did Andrew Manze in so many pieces. Yet, with Corelli’s sonatas, Manze (Harmonia Mundi 907298, 26:5), with period instruments, wove sensitive, seductive fantasies. In 20:3, I reviewed John Holloway’s more abruptly rhetorical set, on period instruments (Novalis 150-128). And I also like Elizabeth Wallfisch’s set with the Locatelli Trio on Hyperion 66391, which Nils Anderson reviewed in 14:4.


Although Fernandez draws a somewhat reedy, acerbic sound from his violin, sound never seems an end in itself, nor does he rely upon it as a means to any other kind of end than a purely musical one. The engineers have balanced the harpsichord and violin almost perfectly; the ambiance remains clear and light. These performances constitute both an irrefutable argument for Corelli’s predominance and an irresistible introduction to his œuvre . In the last analysis, the choice between Manze, Holloway, and Fernandez depends more on the listener’s aesthetic predilections rather than on any superior merit. They are all authoritative in their very different ways. Fernandez belongs in this august company. Urgently recommended.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

Classical Music

A collection of wholly agreeable music, stylishly written and elegantly performed. The emphasis is on charm, lyricism, and vivacity—something to serenade and divert the listener. Donizetti treats the soloists as vocalists; the music is always expressive. For the most part, this music is played in reconstructions and in others’ orchestrations. But all seems most sympathetically researched and, where necessary, edited and arranged. The Clarinet Concertino mixes pathos and good humor, and the hunting finale of the Oboe Concertino is ear catching. The work for English horn (cor anglais) was written for a now defunct instrument; the cor anglais sounds slightly uncomfortable here, despite the player’s best efforts, and is cast as a theme and variations, the theme reminds of one used by Schubert in his music for Rosamunde. Beginning the CD is a short fancy for woodwind nonet, rather Mozartian, and closing the program is the most operatic music here, written for the funeral of a violinist, and culminating in the manner of a Rossini overture, with a crescendo. If the music appeals, then this release can be regarded as a winner. The recording is excellent: airy, tangible, and well defined.

Colin Anderson, FANFARE

Schumann's only piano concerto is romantically poetic and not a work of bravura virtuosity. The piano and the orchestra do not contend for dominance. Their parts are closely interwoven, and one is not imaginable without the other. Mozart composed his last three symphonies within an incredibly short period of less than two months in the summer of 1788.

Hisato Ohzawa, one of the foremost Japanese composers of the first half of the twentieth century, studied in the 1930s in Boston and Paris. He had an excellent command of diverse styles derived from his extensive knowledge of jazz, late Romanticism.

Starter question for 10 - can you name any Italian orchestral composers of the early to mid 20^th century? Ottorino Respighi comes to mind, as do Gian Francesco Malipiero, Ildebrando Pizzetti and - thanks in part to those enterprising souls at Naxos - we can now add Alfredo Casella. This recording of the latter’s Symphony No. 1, a world premiere, is just part of a projected series devoted to Casella’s œuvre; the most recent instalment - which includes Symphony No 2 - is available on 8.572414. Naxos have stolen a march on Chandos, who have just released a recording of the latter - coupled with Scarlattiana - featuring Gianandrea Noseda and the BBC Philharmonic (CHAN 10605). And we mustn’t forget CPO, whose contribution to this risorgimento includes the Op. 63 Sinfonia.

At first glance, Casella’s enrolment at the Paris Conservatoire - Gabriel Fauré was one of his teachers - and his admiration for Debussy might suggest strong links with French music of the period. However, the First Symphony, which dates from 1905, doesn’t strike me as particularly Gallic, either in sensibility or sound world; indeed, Casella is quoted in the liner-notes, where he dismisses the work as a potpourri of Borodin, Brahms and Enescu. These influences may be there, but they aren’t striking. Perhaps it’s the Italian band and conductor who are to blame, as they add a touch of southern warmth to this absorbing score.

True, the brooding start to the Lento seems Russianate, but then there’s an arresting lyricism in the strings and an orchestral blush that speaks more of Richard Strauss. As for the Roman orchestra they sound full-bodied and precise, climaxes expanding with plenty of weight and impact. Musically the score may seem a tad threadbare at times, but it’s well shaped and convincingly paced. Initial impressions suggest this is not the youthful indiscretion it first seems; in fact, the Adagio - reprised in the Second Symphony - is rather lovely. After a quiet, rather unsettling theme at the outset there are some melting string tunes - just listen to the passage that begins at 3:44. It really is luminous, heart-stopping music, most eloquently phrased.

The final movement, like the first, is a dark-toned Lento, the grumble of percussion at the start thrillingly caught. And, for the first time, there’s a real sense of nobility, a Wagnerian amplitude if you like, the muted brass simply splendid. Moreover, there’s a momentum here - listen out for that recurring, jaunty little tune - and a firm sense of purpose, which ensures that any structural weaknesses are artfully concealed. Such advocacy augurs well for the rest of this series; indeed, having heard both Noseda and La Vecchia’s accounts of the Second Symphony I can assure you the latter yields little or nothing to the former in terms of execution although, as expected, the Chandos sound is both weightier and more spacious.

The concerto is a wartime work, written while the composer was recovering from a serious illness. The soft edges of the symphony are replaced here by a harder, more muscular idiom, which includes strong, uncompromising rhythms. There’s plenty of bite to the strings, ever-present timps commendably crisp and clear, the Sarabande more lyrical - and inward - than one might expect. The piano part is carefully woven into the musical fabric, which only shows signs of fraying in the latter half of this movement. The brisk, martial opening to the final Allegro - snare drums very much in evidence - takes us back to the sinewy world of the first. It’s well played and tightly argued, the muted march coloured by the gentlest of taps on the tam-tam.

So, a most encouraging start to this new cycle which, along with Noseda’s, will surely bring this music back into the mainstream, where it belongs. It seems entirely right that La Vecchia and his Roman band are leading the charge; goodness knows, they play this music with verve and vision - and that’s just what it needs

Nice one, Naxos.

-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International

Includes work(s) by Peter Breiner. Ensemble: New Zealand Symphony Orchestra. Conductor: James Judd. Soloist: Takako Nishizaki.

The works on this disc span much of Astor Piazzolla's compositional career, from the Sinfonia Buenos Aires of 1951 to the Concerto of 1979. The latter has a title, "Aconcagua", the highest peak in the Andes, but it was not given by the composer. All of this music is stunning, and it's marvelously performed here. The best-known work, naturally, is an arrangement: Las Cuatro Estaciones, here in the version for string orchestra by Leonid Desyatnikov.

I have to confess that I prefer a more varied scoring in this music, but it would be very hard to beat this performance for clarity and beauty of texture. Tianwa Yang handles the solo violin part with aplomb, digging into the "dirty" sounds--the glissandos and other effects--with relish, but without ever coarsening her tone as so many others routinely do. There's elegance here as well, and she finds it. The result is that the "Spring" fugato, for example, has amazing rhythmic definition but also a very welcome lightness and freshness.

The Bandoneón Concerto offers a perfect marriage of Piazzolla's tango-saturated melos with large-scale form. It's worth recalling that the composer spent several years studying with Alberto Ginastera, as well as Nadia Boulanger, and all of his music in whatever form betrays a very high level of compositional craft. Daniel Binelli plays the solo part extremely well, and he's perfectly balanced against the larger ensemble. He also participates (to a lesser degree) in the Sinfonía Buenos Aires, in which the influence of Ginastera is very evident (and entirely welcome).

This early work is thrilling: a blend of Latin rhythm, soulful melody, explosive percussion, and now and then a touch of Stravinsky. The finale will blow you away, and there are some haunting timbres in the slow movement featuring the combination of bandoneón and woodwinds. The Nashville Symphony under Giancarlo Guerrero plays all of this music with the necessary guts and also a welcome degree of polish. The players sound completely at home in the idiom, and Guerrero delivers bold, uninhibited interpretations across the board. This is just a great disc of colorful, distinctive orchestral music, and it belongs in every collection.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

CHOPIN Piano Concerto No. 2. Variations on “Là ci darem la mano.” Andante spianato and Grande Polonaise brillante • Eldar Nebolsin (pn); Antoni Wit, cond; Warsaw Phil O • NAXOS 8.572336 (62:53)

Eldar Nebolsin was born in Uzbekistan in 1974. He eventually went on to study with Dmitri Bashkirov, before garnering international attention after winning the Santander International Piano Competition back in 1992. In addition, he was awarded the Sviatoslav Richter Prize in the International Piano Competition, Moscow, in 2005. He is a name that is new to me, and I’m glad that I had the opportunity to hear a bit of what he’s doing right now. He has the kind of virtuosity that is less apparent than other pianists’, because he always seems to be completely in touch, musically, with what he’s doing—and not for the sake of showing off what he can do. He has a fluid sound, and a good lyrical sense—sometimes losing the rhythmic bite, the quirkiness of the rhythms, but always maintaining a beautiful sound. The concerto’s first movement is perfectly paced to bring out the Maestoso character that is asked for in its tempo marking. But again, sometimes the music loses that aforementioned bite and consequently its momentum. The way Nebolsin handles the delicate filigrees of the concerto’s Larghetto, though, is just one example of his good taste in never over-sentimentalizing this music. The Allegretto vivace that follows is equally well done, having an almost eerie, misterioso quality to it from the very beginning of the movement. The pianist shines especially in these latter two. The Mozart Variations—the piece that Schumann was so impressed with that he called Chopin a genius—has never been hugely popular in this century. Nebolsin does a good job of letting the music flow naturally, while keeping the textures of the piano figuration light and airy—not so easy, considering the difficulty of these etude-like variations. Antoni Wit and the Warsaw Philharmonic provide excellent accompaniment, surging when necessary, supporting at other times, and getting out of the way when the soloist comes to the fore...The variations are splendid, and Nebolsin gets my vote for one of the best available.

FANFARE: Scott Noriega

Alberto Ginastera was one of the most admired and respected musical voices of the twentieth century, who successfully fused the strong traditional influences of his national heritage with experimental, contemporary, and classical techniques. The two Cello Concertos are among his most innovative, brilliant and technically formidable compositions. The First Concerto, the definitive version of which was premièred by Ginastera’s second wife Aurora Nátola in 1978, is notable for the provocative singing lines, Latin dance rhythms and virtuosity of its solo part, and the intense colours and abundant percussion of the orchestral accompaniment. The Second Concerto, composed as a 10th wedding anniversary tribute ‘To my dear Aurora’, makes more prominent use of Argentine folk elements. It includes a brilliant depiction of the rising sun, percussion instruments portraying sounds of the jungle, and a celebratory rustic finale.

Classical Music

Classical Music

The greatest Czech artists have recorded this music, but they yield surprisingly little to JoAnn Falletta and her Buffalo players. If perhaps the winds aren't quite as characterful as their Bohemian colleagues, Falletta ensures that the performances have just as much energy and rhythmic snap. In Fairy Tale, a gorgeously romantic work as substantial as a symphony, The Game of Swans and Peacocks has all the bounce of a Slavonic Dance, while the large outer movements are beautifully shaped and exquisitely played.

Just as Fairy Tale might pass for a four-movement symphony, so the Fantasy is every bit as serious and cogent as a major violin concerto (though it has only one long movement). It's as big as, say, the Bruch G minor, perfectly proportioned, and like all of the music on this disc its neglect is simply incomprehensible. Michael Ludwig remains an impressive soloist; he has a big enough tone to do the lyrical moments justice, and plenty of dexterity in the flashy bits. He and Falletta make the ending memorably exciting.

The Fantastic Scherzo is a masterpiece of atmosphere and melody--like so much of Suk's music, the bitter-sweetness of its main ideas will stay with you for days. It's quite wonderfully played here: crisp and lively. Really, Falletta's performance is as good as any, and extremely well recorded too. It's so important that this wonderful music gets played by non-native musicians; it's the only way that it stands a chance of entering the standard repertoire, where it so obviously ought to be. Projects like this deserve your support, and will reward your time and attention many times over. Strongly recommended.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

This second disc of orchestral works by Z+�dor includes his most-performed piece, the Divertimento for Strings and the composer's own favourite, Studies for Orchestra.

Classical Music

Despite a sonic soundstage that places the orchestra and soloist in a position akin to viewing celestial beings from the wrong end of a telescope, these are simply fabulous performances. It's good to have the Third Concerto in its conjectural three-movement manifestation (Tchaikovsky completed a first movement, which consigned it to a stand-alone composition, while Tanyev reconstructed a second and third movement from outlines Tchaikovsky had sketched for an ultimately rejected symphony), especially in a reading full of enough sweep and passion to outdistance Peter Donohoe's fine EMI traversal. Konstantin Scherbakov's sparkling, assured fingerwork in the cadenzas alone is a selling point--and the First concerto is a keeper, no doubt about it! It's fast, it's fluid, and it's utterly without airs, mannerisms, and pretentions.


Unlike other pianists who milk the lyrical unaccompanied sections out of shape, or dive into the octave sequences as if they were sporting events, Scherbakov's organic feeling for tempo relationships and musicianly virtuosity binds everything together, and the Russian Philharmonic musicians play their hearts out under Dmitry Yablonsky's uplifting direction. For superior sound, sophisticated orchestral execution, and soloistic individuality, it's worth spending the extra cost for Argerich/Abbado (DG) or Volodos/Ozawa (Sony). But give this release a try, and don't be surprised if you return to it more often than you've anticipated. [6/9/2004]
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

VIVALDI Violin Concertos: in F, RV 287; in g, RV 321; in d, RV 240 . Double Violin Concertos: in C, RV 508; in g, RV 517. String Concertos: in C, RV 113; in D, RV 123 • Giorgio Sasso (vn, cond); Paolo Perrone (vn); Insieme Strumentale di Roma (period instruments) • STRADIVARIUS 33944 (68:09)


Stradivarius’s notes somewhat vaguely mention world premiere recordings; three of these works, RV 240, 508, 517, have appeared in collections reviewed, or to be reviewed, in Fanfare (RV 240 and RV 508 appear in the recording by Il Pomo d’Oro, Naïve 30550, while Gli Incogniti included RV 517 in their collection on Zig-Zag 310, 36:4). Giorgio Sasso’s recording with Insieme Strumentale di Roma took place in the Church of San Lorenzo in Panisperna in October 2011.


The program opens with the Violin Concerto in F Major, RV 287, beginning with bumptious resonant strokes that the ensemble surrounds with reverberant silence. The engineers have miked Giorgio Sasso, who already proves to be an aggressive violin soloist, up close, revealing both the starch in his articulation and the considerable beauty of his tone. Violinist and ensemble eschew lightening tempos, achieving their effects timbrally rather than temporally. They bring out the contrast between the brilliant upper registers and the booming bass parts (all with only six instruments—but including organ in the concertos, RV 240 and RV 113). In the slow movement, too, they combine the warmth of I Musici’s old recordings (or those of the Virtuosi di Roma) and the elegance of Arthur Grumiaux’s Baroque recreations with the chunkiness characteristic of many now mainstream period-instrument ensembles. When the textures support the balance, the engineers focus on the harpsichord part, as they do in RV 287’s Largo . Sasso interlaces the Finale with pointed rhythmic interjections.


The Concerto in C Major, RV 508, for Two Violins, begins with a sweeping tutti, but the soloists engage in virtuosic dialogue through much of the movement, and Sasso and Paolo Perrone carom off each other like so many weightless and frictionless billiard balls. In the slow movement, Sasso and Perrone stretch engaging ruminations over a framework of steady notes in the upper strings, while in the Finale they cavort vivaciously if not virtuosically.


The program’s other Double Violin Concerto, RV 517, in G Minor, follows. Its first movement begins fugally (and this fugal writing returns later toward the movement’s end), and the ensemble prises apart the contrapuntal lines with a clarity of cleanly etched glass. The violin soloists provide relief in arch homophonic interplay. They generally play together, too, burnishing affecting emotional highlights on the slow movement’s stately melodic material. The Finale also begins contrapuntal, but features more homophonic solo sections, recalling those in the first movement. Sasso and Perrone bring enough crisp gusto even to these less prepossessing solos to keep the music perpetually fresh.


The ensemble pieces the first movement of the String Concerto, RV 113 in C Major, out of insistent, infectious rhythmic motives, but provides a moment of respite by making the figuration of the slow movement flow gently before the brisk repartee of the Finale. The soloists and ensemble alternate portentous statements and playful figurations in the first movement of the Violin Concerto in G Minor, RV 321. After their lyricism in the slow movement, they return to stronger punctuation in the Finale. The Violin Concerto in D Minor, RV 240, joined by continuo organ in the ensemble’s recording, appears the longest of the works in their program. Pablo Queipo de Llano’s notes suggest that Vivaldi wrote it between 1710 and 1715; and while he notes the incisiveness of its melodic elements, listeners may fasten instead upon the flowing lyricism that Sasso brings to its first movement, the ensemble’s dramatic interjections in the slow movement surrounding the melting lyricism of the solo part, and the leaping figuration that Sasso negotiates with such violinistic agility in the Finale. The program concludes with another of the string concertos, RV 123 in D Major, shortest of the works on the program. The ensemble’s jubilant playing of the first movement, its steady figuration alternating in dynamic level, the at times hushed solemnity it brings to the brief slow movement, and the fugal splendor of the Finale’s opening (reminiscent of Bach’s Fourth Brandenburg Concerto), make the work a memorable conclusion to the program.


If Bach learned a great deal about Italian concertos by transcribing Vivaldi’s works in the genre, he missed one of the central pillars that support them: their soloistic drama. That’s in evidence in Stradivarius’s recording, one of the most balanced and exhilarating of Vivaldi’s concertos that’s come my way in the last several years. Urgently recommended.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

Classical Music

Reinecke: Orchestral Works

This is a wonderful disc. Zina Schiff plays this music with exceptional passion and commitment, which is really what Bloch is all about. Her tempos in the outer movements of the concerto are a touch more relaxed than the competition, particularly the classic Szigeti/Mengelberg, but the performance has greater excitement than the (limited) modern recorded versions, not just because of the fine sound, but because Schiff really digs into the music and phrases with both spontaneity and unusual communicative depth. When the melodies have such strong character even the long first movement, which admittedly has a tendency to sprawl in less committed hands, sounds amazingly cogent. It's clear that Schiff really knows the music and has no inhibitions when it comes to delivering the emotional goods. This is such a lovely work--it's amazing that it gets played so infrequently.

In the shorter pieces Schiff is just as splendid. The final movement ("Rejoicing") of Baal Shem lives up to its title as in few other performances, while the Suite Hebraïque's opening Rapsodie is hypnotically intense. José Serebrier and the Royal Scottish National Orchestra provide ideally balanced, colorful accompaniments, and the engineering, as usual from this source, is terrific. If you're looking for an inexpensive single disc containing all of Bloch's major works for violin and orchestra, let this release be your choice. I wonder if Schiff also plays the viola? I'd love to hear these forces in Bloch's spectacular Viola Suite.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com