Classical Music

Classical Music

Organ Concert: Urban, Victor – BERNAL JIMENEZ, M. / BACH, J.

Classical Music

Cramer was a virtuoso pianist and composer of German origin who lived mostly in London. A pupil of Clementi and friend of Beethoven, he is best known for his piano studies. He founded the publishing company J.B. Cramer & Co. which still exists today. This is the only available recording of these works. Recorded in: St Silas The Martyr, Kentish Town, London 29 & 30 January 2002 Producer(s) Rachel Smith Sound Engineer(s) Jonathan Cooper Michael Common (Assistant)

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

BACEWICZ Violin Concertos: No. 7; No. 3; No. 1. Overture • Joanna Kurkowicz (vn); ?ukasz Borowicz, cond; Polish RSO • CHANDOS 10533 (63:47)


The recorded works of Gra?yna Bacewicz (1909–1969) consist almost entirely of compositions for violin in various combinations, with a few piano pieces thrown in for good measure. Violinist Joanna Kurkowicz has contributed to that catalog three of Bacewicz’s seven violin concertos, conductor ?ukasz Borowicz having suggested (according to Kurkowicz) the Overture as a companion piece. (Several years ago, Kurkowicz released a collection of Bacewicz’s violin sonatas—No. 4, No. 5, and No. 2—and short pieces—Oberek No. 1, Partita, Capriccio, and Polish Capriccio —with pianist Gloria Cheng on Chandos 10250.)


The program opens with the last of the three concertos, No. 7, from 1965. Despite its modernity, this Concerto has been tailor-made for the violin by its violinist-composer. So no matter how colorful or impressionistic its orchestration, the solo always maintains equality of interest. The entire work, divided into the traditional three movements, lasts just a bit less than 22 minutes, with the cadenza in the first—a movement almost eight-minutes in length—arriving it seems almost before the Concerto has gotten underway, so firmly does the interplay of capricious melody and texture hold the listener’s interest. The comparisons in the notes with Szymanowski’s First Concerto hardly seem out of place, although Bacewicz appears to have wandered farther along that path than did the earlier composer. Fairy-like sonorities and eerie timbres predominate in the second movement, with textures suddenly piling up and then as suddenly dispersing. The third movement begins with a commanding orchestral statement, but the violin launches into almost manic figuration. Joanna Kurkowicz seems particularly comfortable breathing these rarified atmospheres, and Borowicz brings a kind of preternatural clarity to the sprinkles of orchestral stardust. The engineers have captured both the detail and the lithe tone of Kurkowicz’s 1699 Pietro Giovanni Guarneri.


The Third Concerto, from 1948 (Kurkowicz and Borowicz play them in reverse order), remains closer to traditional tonality, though the violinistic figuration often suggests the kind of pulverization listeners will remember from the Seventh Concerto. Nevertheless, the orchestral parts have a cinematic sweep, with Romantic expressivity echoing through its basic modernity. (If the Seventh Concerto recalls Berg and Szymanowski, this one sounds in some ways closer to Korngold!) Once again, despite the difference in style, the cadenza arrives almost before it seems the movement has gotten fully underway. And the movement ends with a bang, not, as in the Seventh Concerto, with a whimper. Adrian Thomas’s notes trace the slow movement’s lyricism to what Bacewicz identified as a little-known song, sung at first simply before rising to heights of dramatic expression. The jaunty finale (the notes identify a dance-like Tatra Mountains motif), provides—as did the first movement—a harmonic and melodic background for the frequently frantic figuration, though nostalgia haunts the Meno that precedes the dance’s final appearance.


The 12-odd-minutes First Concerto, from 1937, combines motoric scramble with poignant reflection in its first movement, a lyricism that foreshadows the out-of-focus harmonic schemes of the Third Concerto in its second movement (which strays farther toward its end), and a sprightly finale. The tumultuous Overture, from 1943, rhythmic and complex (compare an exhilarating rhythmic fugue by Karl Amadeus Hartmann), provides an exhilarating conclusion to the collection. The orchestra plays it with a combination of exuberant abandon and disciplined clarity.


Kurkowicz’s suggestion in the booklet that these works deserve a wider reputation appears to be more than mere puffery. Imaginative texturally, harmonically, melodically—and not least, violinistically—they certainly deserve the kind of sympathetic performances that Kurkowicz and Borowicz give them. If Bacewicz seems in these riveting, strongly appealing works more a composer-violinist than a violinist-composer, many will doubtless consider that designation to redound to her credit. Strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

Classical Music

ANTON RUBINSTEIN Grigorios Zamparas, piano; Philharmonia Bulgarica/Jon Ceander Mitchell. ANTON RUBINSTEIN: Piano Concerto No. 3 in G major, Op. 45; PianoConcerto No. 4 in D minor, Op. 70.

Leopold Mozart has only survived throughout history in fragments. The large supply of secular instrumental music on which he prided himself in 1757, has been irrevocably lost. Leopold's son, Wolfgang dismantled and auctioned off his things as to continue caring for his own family at the time. In the recording presented here, a listener can gain an overall impression of the composer's oeuvre. Reinhard Goebel leads the Bayerische Kammerphilharmonie in discovering these forgotten masterpieces.

Schmidt-Kowalski, T.: Symphony No. 4 / Violin Concerto No. 2

Classical Music

Includes work(s) by various composers. Ensemble: Xalapa Symphony Orchestra. Conductors: L. Herrera de la Fuente, Carlos Miguel Prieto. Soloist: Carlos Prieto.

J.S. Bach’s concertos are regular and frequent concert repertoire. These slightly more than two-dozen concerti, composed for orchestra, nevertheless constitute only a fraction of Bach’s works. On this recording, the Capella Savaria, featuring Liszt Prize-holder soloist Zsolt Kalló, perform reconstructed versions of two of these lost violin concerti, supplemented by two surviving violin concertos. The Capella Savaria has earned its fame as the first period-instrument chamber orchestra in Hungary. “One of Europe’s best ensembles.” (Opus Magazine, Canada)

•We find in the historical record imploring lines written by Vivaldi (1678–1741) to his patron, Count Morzin, when recommending a set of compositions for his support and patronage (op. 8) which include the violin concertos known as “The Four Seasons”. In the end, history has certainly been the biggest benefactor. For this recording the cycle is played by the Capella Savaria (“one of Europe’s best ensembles” - Opus Magazine), led by Zsolt Kalló, on period instruments.

Classical Music

Recorded in: Danish Radio Concert Hall, Copenhagen 19-21 May 1999 (Ligeti Violin Concerto); 5-6 March 1999 (Helle Nacht); 22 May 1999 (Sonata 'The Secret Melody') Producer(s) Brian Couzens (Executive) Claus Due (Recording) Sound Engineer(s) Jørn Jacobsen

Classical Music

Import Hybrid-SACD pressing.

Classical Music

MUSIC FROM 18TH-CENTURY PRAGUE • Jana Semerádová (fl, cond); Sergio Azzolini (bsn); Lenka Torgersen (vn); Helena Zemanova (vn); Collegium Marianum (period instruments) • SUPRAPHON 4112 (2 CDs: 112:31)


REICHENAUER Quartet in g for Violin, Cello, Bassoon, and Continuo, Rk 18. Trio Sonata in B? for Violin, Cello, and Continuo, Rk 20. FASCH Quartet in D for Flute, Violin, Bassoon, and Continuo, WV N:D1. Concerto in C for Flute, Violin, Bassoon, and Continuo, WV L:C3. Concerto in D for 2 Flutes, Strings, and Continuo, WV L:D9. JIRÁNEK Trio Sonata in B? for 2 Violins and Continuo, Jk 27. POSTEL Trio Sonata in A for 2 Violins and Continuo. ORSCHLER Trio in f for Two Violins and Continuo. VIVALDI Trio in g for Violin, Lute, and Continuo, RV 85. T?MA Partita in C for Flute and Continuo. CALDARA Sonata in A for Violin and Continuo


Let me begin with what usually comes at the end of a review, the recommendation. Without reservation, this is enthusiastically recommended to all lovers of music from the very late Baroque and very early Classical periods. Now you can skip the rest and run right to your computer to order this set.


I wanted to get that out of the way first before dealing with some of the inconsistencies in the titling of these works. But first let me credit the album booklet’s credits page for naming every member of the Collegium Marianum ensemble and cross-referencing each player with each work in which he or she is a participant.Next, let it be noted that of the 11 works on these two CDs, six are world premiere recordings, the two by Reinchenauer and those by Jiránek, Postel, Orschler, and T?ma.


Now for the inconsistencies. To begin with, the inclusion of works by Vivaldi and Caldara on a disc titled “18th-Century Music from Prague” is a bit of a stretch. Their music may have been known in the Bohemian capital, but it’s speculation on the part of note author Václav Kapsa as to whether either composer ever set foot in Prague; and even if they did, the works by which they’re represented on these discs were certainly not written there, nor, to my knowledge, does either of them have Czech ancestry in his blood. But who cares? Vivaldi and Caldara are always welcome guests.


The other inconsistencies have to do with the formal nomenclature used to classify some of these works. There’s no problem with the pieces designated “trio sonata” by Reichenauer, Jiránek, Postel, Orschler, and Vivaldi, all of which feature two melody instruments plus continuo. This was the common configuration for trio sonatas in the 18th century, and in what was fairly standard, if not de riguer baroque practice, a fourth low bass bowed string or plucked instrument was used to reinforce the keyboard’s bass line.


The current performances present us with an interesting and satisfying approach to this practice. In the Jiránek and Reichenauer trios, the keyboard instrument used is a harpsichord and, appropriately, it’s reinforced by a theorbo in one case and a baroque guitar in another. In the Postel trio, the keyboard instrument is an organ, for which reinforcement is probably not necessary, and so none is added. But in the Orschler trio, in which the organ is also used, a baroque guitar is added. Finally, in the Vivaldi trio for violin and lute, no keyboard instrument is used at all; instead, the theorbo alone fulfills the continuo function. So, in each of these pieces, the sound of the continuo is varied by the use of a different keyboard instrument (or no keyboard instrument in the case of the Vivaldi) in combination with a different reinforcing bass instrument (or none in the case of the Postel). Not only does this add an extra element of color, but it also suggests a connection with baroque performance practice, for I suspect that musicians came together to play these pieces with whatever instruments were available at the moment.


Figuring out the formal classifications of some of these other pieces is trickier. For example, we have two works designated “quartet” in which there are now three main melody instruments plus continuo. We don’t usually think of a quartet as being a piece like a trio sonata where a keyboard or low bass plucked instrument plays a continuo role, yet that’s what we have in Reicnenauer’s Quartet in G Minor for Violin, Cello, Bassoon, and Continuo and in Fasch’s Quartet in D Major for Flute, Violin, Bassoon, and Continuo. In both cases, the continuo instrument used is theorbo or baroque guitar.


Even more unusual to us in its terminology is Fasch’s Concerto in C for Flute, Violin, Bassoon, and Continuo. We know, of course, that baroque concertos almost invariably relied on a keyboard instrument to underpin the ensemble, but at the heart of the concerto concept was a single soloist or a small group of soloists contrasted against a larger instrumental body. Here we have a work called a concerto, but essentially it’s no different from the quartets discussed above. The answer to this head-scratcher is provided by the same composer whose above-cited concerto on disc 1 raised the question, for Fasch provides us on disc 2 with his Concerto in D Major for Two Flutes, Strings, and Continuo, which, with its body of multiple strings, comports more closely with what we think of as a true concerto.


The simple fact is that all of these pieces date from around the midway point in the 18th century at a time when the Baroque was transitioning to the Classical, when composers were experimenting with various instrumental combinations, and when terms used for musical forms were in a state of flux. It’s entirely reasonable to assume that works designated “quartet” by Reichenauer and Fasch sowed the seeds for what would shortly become a formalized quartet—i.e., four instruments unsupported by continuo.


Vivaldi, of course, but even Fasch, Caldara, and Reichenauer are names familiar to most listeners with more than a superficial exposure to music of the Baroque period, and they all flourished around the same time as Bach and Handel. But Franti?ek Jiránek (1698–1778), Christian Gottlieb Postel (1697–1730), Johann Georg Orschler (1697–1767/70), and Franti?ek Ignác Antonin T?ma (1704–1774) are apt to be less known or not known at all, and in two cases, Jiránek and T?ma, they lived well into the full flowering of the Classical period. There’s nothing in the music of these two later composers, however—at least in what there is of it on these CDs—to suggest that either of them had encountered Haydn. In terms of style, Jiránek’s trio sonata sounds the most modern, suggesting that he had some knowledge of C. P. E. Bach. But you would rightly identify the rest of the pieces in this collection as examples of late-Baroque style, influenced, it sounds to me, mainly by the Dresden school of Johann Georg Pisendel.


The above is not a criticism, it’s merely an observation based on my hearing of these pieces. The performances by this Prague-based ensemble are riveting. Composed of what appears to be 16 players, the Collegium Marianum is one of the best period-instrument groups I’ve recently encountered. Jana Semerádová has honed the ensemble to a high degree of technical perfection, and she both plays in and leads spirited, communicative, and moving performances in a program of music that will keep you listening and captivated for the almost two hours of this very strongly recommended two-disc set.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

MOZART Piano Concertos: Nos. 21 and 27 • Lars Vogt (pn); Paavo Järvi, cond; Frankfurt RSO • AVI 8553257 (57:52)


In this recording a talented, prolific pianist performs with a celebrated conductor in two Mozart masterpieces. It shouldn’t go wrong, and it doesn’t. There is grace here, sensitivity, and a welcome liveliness. At times Vogt in his solo passages seems to retreat a bit too much, in dynamics and touch. I suppose that from time to time I prefer a crisper touch and more directed succession of phrases to the occasional sighs and whispers. I still swoon before Schnabel’s Mozart recordings. But even here I am afraid of exaggerating. Vogt and Jarvi have produced beautiful, coherent, unaffected recordings of two masterpieces. If I like a little more tension, others will prefer this kind of delicate and nuanced approach.


FANFARE: Michael Ullman

Julian Steckel – remember that name – Bravo!

This is the concerto debut disc by the young – not yet thirty – German cellist Julian Steckel. Let me say right away I like everything about this disc – a lot! Intelligently programmed, very well engineered and stunningly played by both the orchestra and all importantly the soloist. Clearly there are many fine cellists competing for the attention of the classical music world. Most have bravura techniques that were the reserve of the super-elite barely a generation ago but all too often this can be at the expense of musicality or sensitivity. What impresses and indeed thrills me about Steckel’s playing is the range of colour and emotion he finds in this trio of rather wonderful scores.
 
It was an excellent idea to bring together on a single disc three cello concertos by three Jewish composers of the last century. Two, Korngold and Goldschmidt, were displaced from their native lands by the rise of the Nazis whilst Bloch, although Swiss-born and thereby protected from the horrors of the final solution at first hand, also left his native land to settle in America. None of the works presented here are ‘rare’ in recording terms and Bloch’s Schelomo is that composer’s most popular concert work. Admirers of the other two composers are almost certain to have these works in their collections too so why buy this disc? The answer is because it is simply that good. The disc opens with the Korngold Cello Concerto in C Op.37. The genesis of the work is well-known; for the Bette Davis film Deception the key love triangle consisted of a musician, a composer and Davis. At a crucial point in the film the cellist/musician plays in concert the composer’s concerto. For this sequence Korngold wrote a six minute mini-concerto which was expanded into the ‘full-scale’ work we have here. Even then it lasts a bare twelve minutes. Korngold had a unique clause in his Warner Brothers contract allowing him to retain intellectual ownership of the music he wrote for their films hence themes from film scores appear in concert works and vice versa. This is a work where the boundary between celluloid and stage blurs to nothing. By having to cram the entire concept of a concerto into such a short time-frame there is a danger that it will appear as all gesture and little content – Addinsell’s Warsaw Concerto is surely the ultimate example of that appealing failing. Korngold’s genius – and I am sure he was a genius – is that it works and is satisfying both as music and formally. The first thirty seconds of the performance here tells you that you are in for something rather special. The orchestral introduction is alert; lean and motile but with the sharp tang of nostalgia that is uniquely Korngold. Steckel’s entry is confident, ardent, articulate and superbly projected. At the same time the engineering and production allows conductor Daniel Raiskin to bring out so many telling details in Korngold’s brilliant scoring. The more you hear of Korngold the more you realise what a unique sound-world he created characterised by halos of brilliant harps, keyboards and tuned percussion enveloping lyrical lines of heart-breaking beauty. Listen to Steckel’s handling of the second subject; [track 1 1:20] – this is head-turningly, heart-stoppingly, lump-in-throat-makingly beautiful. As I said, there have been several other versions of this work; I still have a great affection for the first version I knew on the RCA Classic Films scores series played by Francisco Gabarro (RCA GD80185 recently reissued as Sony RCA Red Seal 88697 81266 2), but Steckel is better. Likewise Peter Dixon on Chandos (CHAN9508 or more recently CHAN10433X) and Julius Berger on CPO (999 077 or as part of set of 4 CPO 999150-2) are perfectly good just not this good. For Korngold completists the Naxos version of the film score played by Alexander Zagorinsky is of interest because it is the compact film-score version (Naxos 8.570110-11). There is one last version worth hearing but hard to find because it was on a BBC Music Magazine cover disc played by Frederick Zlotkin conducted by Leonard Slatkin (BBC MM234, 2003). [Not to forget Zuill Bailey on ASV] They are the sons of the cellist Eleanor Aller who played the solo part on the soundtrack and Zlotkin plays her cello.
 
Turning to Schelomo competition is if anything even fiercer. Liner-note writer Norbert Ely describes it as “a deeply pessimistic work” which I suppose it is although I must admit I had never thought of it as such. Another valid point Ely makes is how Bloch forged a musical language which he describes as coming from an “imaginary folklore”. Indeed Schelomo is soaked in music that seems to echo with archaic ritualistic chants whilst actually being original themes. As with the Korngold it is a work where the cello-cantor-protagonist has to play with an extraordinarily wide range of tonal colour and musical flexibility. Here, as throughout the entire programme, Steckel displays his chamber-music loving roots with playing of rapt concentration and pared-back beauty. I have heard performances which emphasise the virtuosic elements more but if you buy into Ely’s concept of “ecstatic pessimism” then this performance is a revelation. Again elsewhere I have occasionally found the rhapsodic form of the work can give it a loose and discursive feel. With Steckel the sense of directed movement and controlled development is unmistakable. As ever, he is helped in this enormously by the excellent Staatsorchester Rheinische Philharmonie with Raiskin’s unerring sense of pace. Time and again I found myself hearing little flecks of orchestral colour and nuance that I have not noticed before. Perhaps this does not displace my other favourite versions but that has more to do with them presenting valid alternatives. The passage that resonates here for me is the broken lament on the cello after the main central climax of the work [track 2 14:10] – playing of profound beauty and poignancy; “why hast thou forsaken me” in music. Part of Steckel’s particular skill is matching his tone, both bow speed and pressure, to his vibrato – at times febrile and fast and at others wider and slower. It might seem like an obvious way to vary one’s palette but it is rarely used with such carefully considered sophistication as here.
 
After a brief reassessment in the mid-nineties it seems that the music of Berthold Goldschmidt is sinking back into obscurity. The relative lack of interest is marked by the fact that the recoding of his cello concerto here – just its third by my reckoning – makes it his most recorded work. Steckel is again in powerful company with David Geringas on CPO (an all-Goldschmidt orchestral works disc: 999 277-2 ) and no less than Yo-Yo Ma on Decca (a Goldschmidt concertos disc: 0289 455 5862 2 DM). But he has nothing to fear from either. This work was written in 1953/4 as an evolution of a lost piano and cello work written for Emanuel Feuermann in 1932. The reason it fits so well in the programme here is the way it can be heard as springing from much of the same cultural and aesthetic heritage as the other two works yet ultimately pursuing a more abstract and ‘pure music’ path than the emotional Schelomo or literally cinematic Korngold. The orchestration is sterner, more cerebral than the other two; by no means lacking in colour or beauty but less luxuriant. Likewise the soloist leads a rigorous musical debate rather than riding the passionate wave. All of the earlier virtues of the disc are again evident – beautifully secure yet flexible playing from all departments of the orchestra and the transparent recording allowing the contrapuntal detail of the score to register with natural ease.
 
I have not mentioned before that I like very much the balance that has been achieved between soloist and orchestra. Given that the three works were recorded at different sessions spread over four months the consistency of the sound is exceptional. After the hot-house emotions of Bloch and Korngold, Goldschmidt can seem to be relatively staid although the second movement Caprice mélancolique is powerful and terse. The inspiration for the work is neo-baroque with an expressionist element that must have seemed terribly contrary to the mood of the times in which it was written. With the benefit of more than fifty years hindsight it can be seen that Goldschmidt forged a very individual musical personality from pre-existing materials and forms. Therein lies another unifying link with these three works and composers. None of them was revolutionary but neither were they anything like as reactionary as they were considered during their compositional lifetimes. The closing Tarantella of Goldschmidt’s concerto has a rather take-it-or-leave-it feel which I rather like – a sense of following one’s own path without compromise.
 
The format of the packaging is the increasingly popular cardboard gatefold with the liner booklet tucked into a slot of the cover. The liner is in German and English only. Norbert Ely’s notes are brief but good.
 
This looks like it is a self-promoted disc by Steckel. If so, knowing the time effort and cost of mounting such a project, I hope it has the success and gains the attention playing of this calibre richly deserves. Increasingly players are having to self-promote and I am always sorry if I cannot be as enthusiastic about the results as that kind of dedication and effort merits. But here we have a disc that would grace the release schedule of any major international company and playing worthy of comparison with the very finest. The tiniest caveat is the short playing time at 54:04 but as a tailor would say, “never mind the cost, feel the quality”. Here on a single disc we have the finest version of the Korngold and performances of major works by Bloch and Goldschmidt more than equal to any other. Julian Steckel – remember that name – Bravo!
 
-- Nick Barnard, MusicWeb International