Includes work(s) by Franz Liszt.

Classical Music

Bebbington's acclaimed collaboration with SOMM yields new riches in this important release featuring three exhilarating works for piano and string orchestra, including the world premiere recording of Jacob's First Piano Concerto. A prolific composer, Jacob was also renowned as an expert on orchestration, and composers such as Vaughan Williams and Noel Coward entrusted him with arrangements of their music. Australian composer Malcolm Williamson was Master of the Queen's Music in the 1970s. of his four concertos, No. 2 is the most immediately accessible, displaying a variety of stylistic affinities from Stravinsky to Gershwin. Doreen Carwithen was married to her former teacher, composer William Alwyn, but was an accomplished composer in her own right. She completed her Piano Concerto in 1948, and it remains among her most substantial and beautiful scores.

Mozart: Romantic Mozart (The)

VIVALDI: Flute Concertos, Vol. 1

REVIEWS:
"...The concertos are fascinating works, written for the composer's own use, exploiting the possibilities of the instrument fully....Tim Hugh...is very polished and confident and not afraid to put some feeling into his work. His tone is superb..." - American Record Guide (7-8/00, p.96)

THE RISE OF THE NORTH ITALIAN VIOLIN CONCERTO 1690–1740—VOL. I: THE DAWN OF THE VIRTUOSO • Adrian Chandler (vn), dir; Mhairi Lawson (sop); 1 La Serenissima (period instruments) • AVIE 2106 (77:51 & )


NAVARA Sinfonia/Sonatas: in C; in a. COMPOSER X Laudate pueri Dominum, RV Anh 20. 1 LEGRENZI 3 Balletti e correnti, op. 16. ALBINONI Concerto in G, op. 2/8. VALENTINI Concerto with 4 Violins Obbligato, op. 7/11. VIVALDI Violin Concertos: in G, RV 310; for 4 Violins, RV 580


According to the booklet’s biography, the Arts and Humanities Research Council awarded Adrian Chandler a fellowship at Southampton University to study the development of the violin concerto in northern Italy from 1690 to 1740, a project that apparently resulted in Avie’s recording items from that literature. Although the title of the collection, “The Dawn of the Virtuoso” might suggest some of Vivaldi’s most fanciful flights, the level of technique demanded by the collection’s works remains on a rather low level. Navara’s five-part Sinfonia or Sonata in C Major (as well as the one in A Minor), for example, may feature what the notes describe as “imposing” violin parts, but they can hardly make an electrifying impression on today’s audiences, inured by Ernst and Paganini to relatively subdued technical feats like Navara’s (while curiously, Vivaldi’s violin parts can still make a listener’s heart pound).


The Laudate pueri Dominum by “Composer X” apparently belonged to a group of pieces that Vivaldi himself had studied. Mhairi Lawson’s rich lower register lends a somber quality to the work, although she brings startlingly dramatic excitement to the “Suscitans” section. Legrenzi’s Balletti e corrente (a selection of six very brief pieces scored for what the Adrian Chandler’s notes describe as the “typical” north Italian ensemble of two violins, alto viola, tenor viola, and cello: Balletto II in G Minor, Corrente II in G Minor, Balletto IV in E Minor, Corrente IV in E Minor, Balletto VI in F Major, and Corrente VI in F) sound bracingly crisp and energetic, bubbling with virtuosic energy if not energetic virtuosity.


Chandler identifies Albinoni’s op. 2 as the first work regularly to include solo passages. But although Albinoni supposedly distributed the “lion’s share” of these in the Eighth Concerto, written for four solo violins with strings, striking solos in the manner of Vivaldi’s Concertos, op. 3 (the tenth of which La Serenissima includes in the collection) just don’t make an appearance. Valentini’s Eleventh Concerto, in six movements (one of them multisectional), sounds far more progressive in the quicksilver writing for the solo instruments in the second movement and especially in the brilliant fourth-movement Presto—as well as in the bold but skillfully laid-out chromatic passages of the opening one. At more than 17 minutes’ duration, the piece dwarfs all the other purely instrumental ones in the program. After all these historical divagations, Vivaldi still sounds masterly, both in his solo Concerto, RV 310, and in the celebrated Concerto for Four Violins, RV 580, to which Chandler and the ensemble have added stirring rhetorical flourishes and richly conceived ornamentation.


La Serenissima, recorded crisply in an amply resonant ambiance, plays with a bracingly accented and thumping, though bubbling, bounce that emphasizes the bass’s strong underpinning role; they eschew both the lushness of modern instrumental sounds and the whining and edgy abrasiveness of period ones. Much of the repertoire may be unfamiliar to listeners, but Chandler and La Serenissima make it highly accessible. Recommended to general listeners as heartily as to students of the period.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

WOLF-FERRARI Concertino in A, “Idillio.” Suite-Concertino in F. 1 Concertino in A? • Zsolt Hamar, cond; Diego Dini Ciacci (ob, hn); Paolo Carlini (bn); 1 Padova and Veneto O • cpo 777 157 (70:07)


Considering this album’s genial, melodic music, it really is amazing how Wolf-Ferrari has, until comparatively recently, been represented in the catalogs only with recordings of his operatic overtures and intermezzos, especially those of The Jewels of the Madonna, Susanna’s Secret , and The School for Fathers . Thankfully, the situation is now changing; cpo, for example, has already released his Violin Concerto in D and Serenade for Strings (cpo 777 271), and his Cello Concerto with the Sinfonia brevis (cpo 777 278). This new release follows the rival 2006 Talent recording of all three works with Hans Rotman conducting the Westsächisches Symphonie Orchester with Piet Van Bockstal (oboe and English horn) and Luc Loubry (bassoon). This Talent recording so enthused one reviewer that he placed it (elsewhere) as one of his recordings of the year.


Wolf-Ferrari (1876–1948) was born in Venice, Italy, the son of a German father and an Italian mother. He enjoyed early success with his operas and he also distinguished himself in the genres of chamber music and concertante wind music. The three works on this album, all cast in four short movements, are scored for small orchestras. All are comparatively late works. In each, soloists and orchestra are equal partners. The “Idillio” Concertino, premiered in 1933, is written in a light late-Romantic vein with string orchestra augmented by two horns imparting something of a bucolic character. It is reminiscent of the neo-Classical style of Respighi, especially in the Scherzo, where staccato chords from the oboe and answering strings are reminiscent of Respighi’s hen from The Birds . Both Dini Ciacci and Van Bockstal please with the latter just that bit snappier and more extroverted in the jolly outer movements. The hauntingly beautiful Adagio, taken at a much slower pace by Dini Ciacci and Hamar, is distinguished by some delectable string phrasing. The cpo players also make magic of the atmospheric Notturno opening movement of the Suite-Concertino for bassoon and small orchestra (1933), Hamar drawing lovely limpid music from his strings; and if you thought a bassoon could never be romantic, then you should listen to Carlini’s tender love song that is the Canzone (Andante cantabile). Loubry, on Talent, is more bubbly in the presto Strimpellata movement


Wolf-Ferrari’s Concertino for English horn, strings, and two horns was premiered posthumously in Salzburg in 1955. Listening to the Capriccio second movement, and the Finale, one might imagine commedia dell’arte characters, the English horn’s buffoonery, sometimes encouraged by prankish horns, contrasts with the strings’ frequent censorious tones; Stravinsky’s Pulcinella comes to mind. Once again, the affecting melancholy of Carlini’s English horn solo, combined with misty, atmospheric strings, lifts another exquisite Wolf-Ferrari Adagio, the horns adding perspective and heightening the elegiac mood.


Highly recommended, this new cpo release, by virtue of the beauty of its slow movements, eclipses its rival Talent recording.


FANFARE: Ian Lace

Classical Music

Classical Music

REGER Piano Concerto. BACH-BUSONI Keyboard Concerto in d, BWV 1052 • Michael Korstick (pn); Ulf Schirmer, cond; Munich RO • cpo 777 373 (63:12)


So many factors go into the making of a successful recording! One would think that great artists, committed to the music, would be primary. The classic recording of Reger’s Piano Concerto is by Rudolf Serkin, a committed Regerite if ever there was one, accompanied by no less than the Philadelphia Orchestra under Eugene Ormandy, on a Columbia stereo LP, later a CBS Masterworks Portrait CD. When that recording proved underwhelming, one’s natural reaction was to give up on the music, and later performances supported that decision. Korstick, Schirmer, and Munich do not suggest comparable levels of quality—or at least of fame; yet right from the opening bars the music grabs our attention, holds it, and satisfies on every count.


So, what happened? First off, spectacular recorded sound brings Reger’s Concerto to life as never before. One’s auditory senses, and that means more than just hearing, immediately leap to attention. I envision ears standing up, hairs on the back of the neck rising, like our dog when a deer appears in the yard. Of course, sheer sound is not enough, and the artists whom I so unthinkingly dissed perform at a high level. The orchestral introduction sings with a white-hot passion not previously realized, and the piano’s entrance bursts upon us like a thunderclap. In Fanfare 32:3, Peter Burwasser admired Korstick’s “muscular virtuosity” in Beethoven sonatas, but decried his “lack of grace.” That sounds like a prescription for Reger’s mighty finger buster, and Korstick delivers big time, maintaining golden tone with no apparent strain, which Serkin—one of my favorite artists—was not able to do. But this Concerto is not all bluff and bluster; it has its tender moments, even in the pugnacious opening Allegro moderato (the moderato is an indication of tempo, not of character). Korstick is reasonably convincing in the brief, calm second theme and its reoccurrences. Although Reger’s notorious harmonic progressions keep this music from sounding like Brahms, that master’s impetuous First Concerto is an obvious influence on this movement.


Korstick is less at home with the second movement, Largo con gran espressione; a few passages become just a series of separate notes, rather than one continuous line. But that happens with Serkin, too, suggesting that we should blame the composer. When the inevitable climaxes arrive, Korstick is back in his element, pouring out cascades of tone. Serkin finds an elfin humor in the Allegretto con spirito finale, which Korstick and Schirmer—at a much slower tempo—miss. They seem to be revisiting the spirit of the opening movement, whereas Serkin is exploring another of Reger’s many facets. If the quality of recorded sound were anywhere near equal, one might prefer Serkin/Ormandy in this movement; but it is not, so it may be best to fall into step with the cpo team and wallow in Korstick’s potent pianism. All of this is not enough to bring Reger’s Concerto up to the level of Brahms, or even Rachmaninoff, but it does turn it into a fascinating, absorbing work.


This Bach-Busoni Concerto is the score that the otherwise incomparable Dinu Lipatti (and many other pianist of his era) played, heard in a 1947 live-performance recording with the Concertgebouw under van Beinum ( Fanfare 24:5, p. 277). Busoni’s concept was the exact opposite of today’s period practice: he added color, fistfuls of extra notes, and much ornamentation to the keyboard part (think Horowitz playing Mussorgsky), and he cut freely, particularly in the finale. Korstick’s interest in the Busoni version comes from his studies at Juilliard, where he met Edward Weiss, a Busoni pupil who played the Concerto under Busoni’s baton. The structure and the familiar themes may be Bach, but this is Busoni we are hearing; given Korstick’s qualities (the good and the bad) that may be just as well. Comparison with Lipatti is difficult: that recording was an amateur one, so distorted that one barely notices that he and van Beinum somehow restored Busoni’s cuts. Lipatti plays with more consistent tempos and a semblance of taste—his Adagio is deeply moving—but he is still far from Bach.


This disc is urgently recommended to Reger fanciers. Others will not care, and probably will not be convinced if they do try it.


FANFARE: James H. North

This awaited release is the first disc in a series of Olli Mustonen and the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Hannu Lintu performing the Piano Concertos by Sergei Prokofiev. Without a doubt some of the most substantial twentieth century masterworks, Prokofiev’s piano concertos prove the composer’s brilliant piano skills. The composer premiered his First Piano Concerto in 1914. The Third Piano Concerto is the most popular of Prokofiev’s concertos. The piece took several years to complete, and premiered in Chicago in 1921. Prokofiev’s Fourth Piano Concerto (for the left hand) is the most rarely heard of the three concertos featured on this recording. He wrote the piece in 1931 for pianist Paul Wittgenstein, but the work wasn’t performed until 1956. Olli Mustonen is sought after by orchestras all over the world, and he has performed and recorded with such groups as the Berlin Philharmonic, the New York Philharmonic, and The Royal Concertgebouw. His recent collaborations with the Finnish Radio Symphony have garnered excellent reviews.

REVIEW:

How many times have I regretted a shortage of fantasy, flair, and fairy-tale imagination in recordings of the Prokofiev piano concertos? Well, here is a disc that takes all those qualities to the top, gleefully goes over it, and ends up halfway down the other side. The super-light, transparent textures Hannu Lintu conjures from the orchestra are an excellent foil for the soloist. If there is room in your collection for several sets of the Prokofiev concertos, this one at least comes with a provocative distinctiveness.

– Gramophone

Classical Music

Simon Trpceski and Vasily Petrenko bring a certain lightness and refinement to Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No. 2, while at the same revealing the work's deep emotions and inherent melancholy. Trpceski's playing effuses romantic bravura in the rapid finger passages of the outer movements, while cultivating a classical elegance in the hauntingly beautiful slow movement, here sounding so similar in mood and style to Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 21 that I wonder if Rachmaninov wasn't inspired by it.

Listening to Petrenko's conducting in Concerto No. 3, I was reminded of how Rachmaninov was greatly impressed at Gustav Mahler's meticulous preparation of this concerto's orchestral accompaniment for the New York premiere. Petrenko plays up the music's emotional grandeur and symphonic utterance (a few passages bring to mind the composer's Symphony No. 2), producing a real Rachmaninov sound with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic, which plays wonderfully. My only complaint comes in the finale, where the trumpet's important statement of the main theme is barely audible.

For his part Trpceski thankfully resists the temptation to treat the formidable solo part as mere "piano competition" music (as so many others have done). His playing has that rare combination of power, passion, and precision (his first-movement cadenza--the long original one--is magnificent) which, combined with his rich tone and singing line, make this one of the most moving and musical Rachmaninov Third's on disc. The recording gives the usual prominence to the piano so that we hear every note, but the orchestra has a sufficient presence as well (it doesn't exactly sound "realistic"--then again, few concerto recordings do). An excellent disc, one that will likely spend much time in your CD player.

--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

Antonio Rosetti began his career as a double bassist at the Oettingen-Wallerstein court but then slowly but surely rose to the post of chapel master of this court ensemble and to the status of a widely renowned orchestral conductor. His seven extant bassoon concertos, four of which Eckart Hübner recorded some years ago for cpo (cpo 999 936-2 / 7172829), show that even as a composer he continued to be especially fond of bass instruments, and the three new productions on this CD now mean that a complete recording is available.

Once again the concertos are stamped by wonderful melodic invention and exhibit part writing of the highest virtuosity in the solo part as well as a refined instrumentation. Hübner once again plays »with a wonderfully well-rounded, very noble tone and lyrical cantabile reflection« (Financial Times). Rosetti’s concertos are presented together with Mozart’s earliest concerto for a wind instrument. The then eighteen-year-old composer immediately succeeded in producing a work doing complete justice to the character of the solo instrument and was already at the height of his compositional powers.

- CPO [Translated from German]

Concerto Copenhagen’s performances ooze abundantly with charm, wisdom and warmth. Passages for recorders, oboes and bassoon during the Largo of Concerto No 1 in B flat are played exquisitely. Courtly rhythms spring disarmingly in the Vivace of Concerto No 2 in B flat…Lars Ulrik Mortensen’s harpsichord continuo is imaginative in its support for the intimate dialogue between two cellos and Frank de Bruine’s beautifully judged oboe solo. The Minuet that concludes Concerto No 4 in F major is correctly an elegant dance…Mortensen’s fluent playing of the tricky quick organ solos in the concluding Allegro are articulated flawlessly. Such classy moments make this one of the most endearing artistic interpretations of Op 3 in recent years...

-- David Vickers, Gramophone [6/2012]

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Handel’s op. 3 concerti grossi have long been viewed unfavorably in some critical circles thanks to the reflection cast by the composer’s superior op. 6 collection. Yet the earlier works are thematically attractive, rhythmically varied, and expertly sequenced, despite being constructed piecemeal out of music composed over a long period of time. They’ve proven popular as well with modern listeners as a whole, and there’s no danger of their falling out of circulation—not with more than 15 recordings available in the current catalog.


Lars Ulrik Mortensen’s approach is straightforward, and inclining a bit to the decorous side. He phrases elastically in the adagio of the Third Concerto (the alternative solo flute version, rather than the usual oboe), but not as freely as Egarr/Academy of Ancient Music (Harmonia Mundi 2908292). Again, the opening vivace of the Sixth Concerto moves along with stately pride, but it misses the snap of Egarr’s trills that give it a swaggering air, or the delicacy and fleet pacing of Creswick/Northern Sinfonia (Naxos 8.553457). Next to these two versions, there’s a slight facelessness to this album, despite the virtuosic performances of Concerto Copenhagen.


Which isn’t to discount it; those listeners who find the likes of Egarr or Creswick too characterful will probably prefer these readings. There’s a fine sense of energy, movement and balance to timbres from Mortensen in the Fourth Concerto’s Ouverture, and as in the fugal allegro of the Fifth Concerto, all lines are clearly exposed, easy to follow. Then, too, if he doesn’t accent as sharply as several others, Mortensen does use longer-held notes as one among several methods of accenting—a period-accurate point, and providing a subtle variation to the standard phrasing heard on most other discs.


My own preferences still lie with Egarr in a period-instrument mood, and with Iona Brown/Academy of St. Martin (Hänssler 98.918) when not: unsentimental, brightly articulated, dance-like where required, but capable of great flexibility. But there’s much to be said in favor of this expertly performed recording.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

Compared with his more than 1,400 cantatas, operas, and other vocal works, his instrumental works account for only a small portion of his oeuvre, but they demonstrate that, like Telemann, Graupner was a late baroque composer who always lived in quest of new expressive possibilities. The concertos presented here, composed in 1736-37 and 1742, were used either as table music pieces or for concert events.

Take a large spoonful of Bolero, add a small amount of Pavane, simmer in the heat of Feria, then mix with a little Blues and you have the perfect Ravel. It's the recipe for success in the 'Best of' market, particularly when you have Naxos's stunning performances. What did the critics say when the discs, from which this compilation is taken, were first issued. "The whole performance, throbbing with life, makes you listen afresh", was the Gramophone's view of Thiollier's performance of the Piano Concerto. "Superbly recorded", was the Penguin Guide to Compact Discs accolade for Ma m_re l'oye, while Fanfare adds the Rapsodie Espagnole is "well conceived, executed and recorded".

Through the Reeds is a collection of woodwind concerti from American composer Walter Ross. A lifelong musician and composer, Ross has historically worked most closely with instruments in the woodwind family; the four concerti on this album, all of which feature woodwind solo, highlight his preference for the family and his keep ability to compose works for oboe, bassoon, and flute.

Classical Music

Classical Music

EBERL Piano Concertos: in E?, op. 40 1; in C, op. 32 2 • 1 Paolo Giacometti, 2 Riko Fukuda (fp); Michael Alexander Willens, cond; Cologne Academy (period instruments) • CPO 777354 (62:03)


One of these concertos, the C Major, is familiar to me through a 2000 Koch Schwann CD featuring pianist James McChesney with the Slovak Philharmonic Bratislava led by Karl Kemper. Comparison with the current performance is instructive because McChesney’s version is a modern-instrument affair, while this new one uses period instruments or copies thereof. A c.1810 fortepiano by Viennese maker Mathias Müller from the Edwin Beunk collection is pictured on the inside of the booklet’s front page, and since no other instrument is mentioned in the text, I assume this is the one that was used for the recording.


Anton Eberl (1765–1807) has thus far barely made inroads into our musical consciousness. A handful of his works on a couple of CDs has found its way into previous Fanfare reviews, one by Brian Robins, the other by yours truly. Poor Eberl, his music considered second-rate in our time for being too derivative of and inferior to Mozart’s, and considered too good in his own time to be by anyone but Mozart. He had to write a letter to a widely read newspaper assuring the public that he, Eberl, was indeed the legitimate composer of the misattributed works. I wonder if anyone believed him, or if they thought he was a publicity-seeking fraud. Most of his more than 200 works are said to have disappeared, but a number of chamber works, pieces for solo piano, and these concertos remain and have been recorded.


It’s immediately obvious that the two works on this disc follow the pattern of the late 18th-century piano concerto perfected by Mozart. But further listening reveals details in both the scoring for orchestra and the type of keyboard figuration that ought to be clues to the trained ear that Eberl is closer to Beethoven than he is to Mozart. In the matter of scoring, Eberl’s approach to the orchestra is on a grander scale, making particularly bold use of horns and trumpets to articulate entrances and exits. Listen, for example, to the trumpet flourishes at the end of the first movement of the E?-Concerto. Passages for winds are also more extensive and more elaborate.


In the matter of keyboard figuration, Eberl doesn’t fall back on Alberti-bass left-hand patterns as often as Mozart does, and Beethoven-like passages in octaves and thirds appear more often than they do in Mozart. It would be a mistake, however, to conclude that Eberl is somehow a missing link between Mozart and Beethoven, for both of his concertos performed here were completed in 1804, nine and seven years, respectively, after Beethoven’s Second and First concertos. Given that, it’s likely that Eberl heard Beethoven’s concertos and was more influenced by them than he was by Mozart’s, which by then already belonged to an earlier era.


These performances are absolutely wonderful. The fortepiano can sound a little opaque in the lower middle register and bass, but its upper range sparkles. Comparing Willens’s reading of the C-Major Concerto with Riko Fukuda to that by Kemper with McChesney, I am really surprised by the difference in interpretive approach. Kemper/McChesney is much faster in all three movements—too fast, I think—than Willens/Fukuda: 12:18, 8:42, 8:45 vs. 14:09, 10:20, 10:02. Ironically, this makes Kemper/McChesney sound more like Mozart and less like Beethoven than the other way around, because Beethoven’s concerto allegros are more allegro moderato and his andantes more adagio than Mozart’s. Even though the Kemper/McChesney is a modern-instrument performance, the Willens/Fukuda has a greater sense of gravity and purposefulness to it.


The comparison applies only to the C-Major Concerto, since the Koch Schwann CD doesn’t couple it with the E?-Major Concerto. Paolo Giacometti’s playing in the latter is every bit as spirited and satisfying as Fukuda’s in the C-Major Concerto. An excellent recording, as is customary for CPO, adds to the strong recommendation for this release.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Federico Moreno Torroba (1891-1982) is known today for billions of little guitar pieces that dot just about every Spanish guitar collection. You might assume from this that he was either a composer of little consequence, or one of those guys who lived forever but wrote only a tiny amount of music. He was neither. In Spain he is best known as the composer of Luisa Fernanda (1932), one of the greatest and most popular of Zarzuelas. You might call it the “West Side Story” of Spain. He also wrote operas and concert works, including ten concerted pieces for guitar and orchestra, all of which Naxos proposes to record in this new series.

Now I have to confess, the very thought of more guitar music CDs makes me want to scream. We get solicited to review at least a dozen new ones every month, but this is different. Torroba was a major composer, a far more interesting creative personality than, say, the better known Rodrigo, and it’s not as though we suffer from a glut of good modern guitar concertos (other than those of Leo Brouwer). So the prospect of three discs devoted to the Torroba guitar concertos is an exciting one, and this disc marks an auspicious beginning.

You would expect Pepe Romero to excel at the Concierto en Flamenco–he knew the composer and he is fully at home in both classical and Flamenco guitar. The piece is gorgeous, the performance vibrant and passionate. Here and in the following Diálogos entre guitarra y orquesta, it’s great to be able to forget about classical forms (each piece has four movements instead of the usual three) and simply revel in the bold contrasts and captivating melodies with which Torroba festoons both works. Writing for guitar and orchestra isn’t easy–the two really have no business together–but Torroba’s scoring masterfully supports the soloist while never denying the orchestra the opportunity to assert itself boldly and colorfully.

The soloist in Diálogos is Romero’s gifted pupil, Vicente Coves, who plays as well as his mentor, and whose brother leads the orchestra vividly and sympathetically. Both guitarists also offer a solo piece. Romero presents Aires de La Mancha, and Coves the Suite Castellana, which dates from around 1920 and contains the composer’s first essay for solo guitar (Danza). The engineering, happily, is uniformly excellent, with particularly well-judged balances between solos and the orchestra. Even if you think you’ve heard it all when it comes to guitar music, you will want this disc and, I suspect, the whole series.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Magic on a budget: Szymanowski's fantasy world is beautifully caught

Naxos offers an exceptionally clear recording of these three concertante works by Szymanowski, not just the two Violin Concertos but an orchestrated version of the Nocturne and Tarantella. Ilya Kaler, as on his other Naxos discs, gives pure, clear readings with flawless intonation and careful use of vibrato. Having a Polish conductor and orchestra as his accompanists adds to the idiomatic feel of each, with the magical orchestral sounds beautifully conjured up, particularly in No 1, the more radical of the two works.

Like Kaler, Thomas Zehetmair plays with flawlesss intonation in a wonderfully pure reading, using minimal vibrato. Kaler is a degree warmer with a shade more vibrato, and the Naxos recording brings out the fantasy of the composer’s orchestration, particularly in No 1, with wonderful clarity. Lydia Mordkovitch is warmer still, playing with hushed intensity in the gentle passages and relishing the pure beauty of the passages of writing above the stave. In the more openly lyrical Second Concerto, Mordkovitch makes the Andantino deeply reflective at a very measured pace, while the others adopt more flowing speeds with lighter results.

Kaler then plays the relatively brief Nocturne and Tarantella just as sympathetically, with the Tarantella a flamboyant virtuoso vehicle making a splendid climax to an excellent disc. The point which trumps all competition inevitably is that the Naxos issue, beautifully and idiomatically played and brilliantly recorded, comes at such a reasonable price.

-- Edward Greenfield, Gramophone [7/2007]

The cpo label now completes its edition of the concertos of Kurt Atterberg with the Cello Concerto and the Horn Concerto, both written in the 1920s when Atterberg was already a very experienced musician known throughout Europe and active at home and abroad. More intuitive than analytical as a composer, one may understand the ‘movements’ of the Cello Concerto as representatives of ‘normal’ sonata form in which the motifs are reconfigured and then taken up again, whereas the Horn Concerto, despite its unusual but purposeful employment of forces, adheres to traditional form.