The high quality of the performances and the unfailingly artful invention displayed throughout this set of rarely heard works make the discs an essential addition to every Telemann collection.

The six suites recorded here for the first time are unlikely to be familiar to even the most discerning Telemann collector. They have an interesting history, having started life as a set of chamber works published as Das Kleine Kammermusik in 1716 during the composer’s tenure of the post of director of music to the city of Frankfurt am Main. Unusually, they bear a dedication not to a patron or ruler, but to four outstanding oboists encountered by Telemann during the course of his career. Styled as partitas, each consisted of a brief prelude followed by six usually tiny movements termed “aria.” Typically astute, Telemann described the scoring as being “for the violin/flute as well as for the harpsichord but especially for the oboe,” thus drawing into his potential sales net every kind of amateur performer.

His marketing ploy appears to have been successful, since in 1728 Telemann, now based in Hamburg, reissued the set with minor variants and a French title, Petite Musique de Chambre. Meanwhile, at some point between the two publications, Telemann had adapted the partitas as orchestral suites, scoring them for either a pair of oboes, bassoon, and strings, or strings alone (in the instance of the B??and C-Minor concertos), and adding a French overture that substantially expanded and altered the balance of the works. Accounting for something like a third of the entire suite, it is these overtures that form the meat of the matter. Telemann was one of the unquestioned masters of the form, and here each has its own distinctive character. Most remarkable of all is the one that prefaces the C-Minor Suite, its opening section a dark-hued, introverted lamentation that has moved far away from the dotted pomp of its French models, while the succeeding tersely argued allegro scarcely dissipates the sorrowing that pervades the movement. The E-Minor, too, opens with an intense gravement that might well herald a more public tragedy of some kind, perhaps a Passion setting. The seriousness of the G-Minor’s gravement is of a different kind, its breadth of utterance evoking the stately grandeur of some solemn occasion. Different yet again, the overture of the G-Major juxtaposes the noble eloquence of its slow opening with a sturdy, Handelian allegro. The airs, too, encompass a broad range of movements, from formal dance movements of varying types (minuets, bourées, sarabandes, sicilianas, gigues, and so forth), through the unfettered joie de vivre of the folk rhythms that play such an important role in Telemann’s music, and to the occasional more “learned” number.

The performances are splendid. Schneider adopts unexceptionable tempos throughout, capturing the breadth of the French overtures to fine effect, at the same time achieving a flowing lyricism in the more gracious movements, and pointing up the lighter dance movements with strongly articulated rhythms and, where appropriate, wit. The playing is first-rate throughout, as is cpo’s lively sound quality. The conductor contributes an informative note, although a proofreading slip results in the G-Major Concerto being transcribed into F-Major. Nor should the 121:04 timing on the back of the jewel box be given credence; the correct timing is that given in the heading, making for somewhat short measure. Notwithstanding such insignificant caveats, the high quality of the performances and the unfailingly artful invention displayed throughout this set of rarely heard works make the discs an essential addition to every Telemann collection.

Brian Robins, FANFARE

Carl Stamitz's Clarinet Concertos Nos. 3, 4, and 5 (as numbered by Friedrich Carl Kaiser) so far have not been available in a modern critical edition, which means that the recording premiere of these works on this album represents an important contribution to the reception and recognition of this composer. In aesthetic matters as well as in genre history and music history, Stamitz's clarinet concertos are of a significance that is not to be underestimated, and it is also mainly because of them that he continues to be remembered in today's music world. Although musicological research is not yet certain about the precise number of his clarinet concertos, eleven such works in all are assigned to him and are thought to have been composed between 1770 and 1790. Carl Stamitz's compositional treatment of the clarinet demonstrates how he endeavored to exploit in full this instrument's virtuoso side while viewing it primarily as an instrument of song character. He created a particularly highly effective work with his Clarinet Concerto No. 3, which is distinguished by extreme disjunctions and high technical demands. All three concertos are interpreted by Paul Meyer, who numbers among the world's outstanding and most famous clarinetists.

Classical Music

In the last movement of Haydn's Farewell Symphony, one musician after the other disappears, until only 2 violinists are left on the stage as a duo and bring the work to it's close. Sperger regarded Haydn's idea as so original that he wrote a counterpart to it: The Arrival Symphony. Von Gemmingen was the scion of a Wurttemberg family of knights. During the years around 1800 he composed 4 violin concertos already pointing far ahead into the romantic era.

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Sigismund Neukomm (b. 1778) is best known today as a footnote in Haydn biographies, as one of the composer’s students and associates in his last years. But he lived until 1858, traveling all over Europe, from France, to Russia, to London, and even residing for a number of years in Brazil. It was in Rio de Janeiro in 1817 that he composed his Grande Sinfonie heroïque. The music is faux Haydn: just about about the only thing “heroïque” about it is the drumroll at the start. Check out the tune that begins the finale; it’s as if Beethoven had never existed.

The remaining works on the program represent an interesting illustration of musical aesthetics in the early 1800s. They represent Neukomm’s response to the problem of writing orchestral music that does not sound like Haydn and that employs “free” forms. Indeed, the “Dramatic Fantasia on some passages of Milton’s Paradise Lost,” composed in 1833 for the London Philharmonic Society, might be deemed a symphonic poem, though its general pleasantness reveals a composer lacking true fire in his belly. Still, the music is enjoyable, and the two earlier fantasies composed in 1806-8 reveal a composer clearly trying to find an individual identity while working in Haydn’s (still living) shadow.

The performances are very successful. I have had some pretty harsh things to say about Die Kölner Academy and Michael Willens (and he has replied in kind), particularly on account of their lousy Mozart piano concerto recordings on BIS. This is probably their most successful disc to date. Yes, the “period” string playing still lacks timbral allure, but the winds play characterfully, especially in the Milton fantasia, and the passages for full orchestra sound lively and bold. The fact that the music has no competition on disc also helps, as does the excellent engineering. Interesting stuff, this.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

This new Henk Badings recording further confirms his rank as a great twentieth-century Dutch composer with an important and independent individual voice in European music. Although he composed his fourth symphony during the war years, absolutely nothing related to World War II or its atmosphere is to be found in it. It is instead a work adhering to the classical structure and displaying unaffected naturalness and quick musical wit, especially in its fast movements. In 1949 Badings composed his fifth symphony as a commissioned work for the sixtieth anniversary of the Concertgebouw Orchestra. In 1955 a reviewer for the daily De Tijd wrote that this symphony resembled film music inasmuch as it clearly dealt with illustrative elements. This was not intended as a negative judgment but instead was born of admiration for the composer’s suggestive style. In any case, today this music impresses the listener with its surprising freshness and vitality.

Starring Franz Lehar, Eva Maria Marold, Juliane Banse.

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

Classical Music

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Classical Music

The goal of the Telemann Festival Days in Magdeburg is to perform the works by Georg Philipp Telemann in concert with artists of international rank. The focus of the festival program is formed by full-length, magnificent compositions including operas, oratorios, passions, and cantatas. Telemann’s "absolutely stunning productivity" (Georg von Dadelsen) manifests itself in special measure in his cantata oeuvre. And in the cantatas heard on this new CD, recorded during a concert held at the next-to-last day of the festival, Telemann again proves to be among the eighteenth-century’s most important composers of sacred music.

Throughout his life Telemann collaborated with outstanding poets who wrote his sacred music texts mostly for complete annual cycles. This practice enabled him to design each annual cycle – seventy as a rule - with two cantatas for each Sunday and feast day, in accordance with distinctive program concepts. Telemann's compositions of great variety are often opulently endowed with a full instrumental ensemble and in this way emphasize the significance of each particular feast day. Telemann often goes far beyond the customary expressive intensity of the traditional two-part form involving the setting of biblical quotations, resulting in highly gripping and brilliant music!

- CPO [Translated from German notes]

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J. STRAUSS II Der Carneval in Rom • Ernst Theis, cond; Isabella Ma-Zach ( Marie ); Michael Heim ( Arthur ); Jessica Glatte ( Countess Falconi ); Manfred Equiluz ( Count Falconi ); Marcus Günzel ( Hesse ); Bernd Könnes ( Rafaeli ); Dresden St Op O & Ch • CPO 777 405-2 (2 CDs: 95:47) Live: Dresden 2008


Johann Strauss Junior’s second operetta, Der Carneval in Rom, premiered in 1873 only one year before Die Fledermaus, and while the music is enjoyable enough, with several nice tunes, there is little in the score to presage the gorilla blockbuster soon to come. For one thing, Strauss wrote the music in the more romantic style of light opera because the work was originally scheduled to be mounted at the Vienna court opera, a place of more serious mien than the Theater an der Wien, then the home of the comic-oriented Viennese operetta. When it turned out the production had to be premiered at the latter venue, Vienna’s reigning Waltz King found himself with a score full of choruses and ensembles, few of his signature waltz melodies but plenty of sprightly polka rhythms. In fact, Strauss referred to Der Carneval in Rom as his “polka opera.”


The story is typically slight. Marie, a young girl living in a rural village high in the Alps, longs for her beloved Arthur, a painter who has gone to Rome to make a living, and she decides to go after him. When she arrives in Rome, in the midst of preparations for Carnival, she discovers Arthur is making a living selling spurious religious relics and is more interested in chasing the flirtatious Countess Falconi than in doing much painting. Marie approaches Arthur disguised as a boy and persuades him to take her on as his apprentice. Arthur is too busy planning assignations with the wayward Countess under the very nose of the perpetually jealous Count to pay much attention to Marie. After a couple of typical light-opera mistaken-identity encounters during the love trysts (think Le Nozze di Figaro ) involving Arthur, the Countess, and Marie, the young painter finally recognizes his true love from the mountains, and they pledge their eternal devotion as the Carnival erupts joyfully around them at the finale.


This 2008 recording of Der Carneval in Rom by the German label cpo is virtually a world first. At one time there was a quite ancient RCA LP of only the musical numbers from a 1936 German revival, but this is the first modern CD set and the first with any dialogue. The spoken parts may be cut, without libretto or score I cannot tell, but there is certainly enough there to provide the story clearly to German-speaking listeners, and I believe the original music is all present and accounted for, based on a newly issued critical edition. The producers have even added back in a “lost” coloratura aria for the Countess, which Strauss added to the production a few days after the first night. To its credit, cpo has also recently given us a world premiere of Strauss’s Das Spitzentuch der Konigen (reviewed favorably in Fanfare 33:4 by Christopher Williams) and is planning to release another first-timer, Prinz Methusalen , which they have already recorded. It seems incredible that there are still unrecorded stage works by this iconic Viennese master and one sincerely hopes cpo has the interest and the resources to eventually do them all.


The Dresden State Operetta Orchestra, under the direction of principal conductor Ernst Theis, and its chorus are both better than good and two of the strongest features of this recording. German and Austrian musicians seem to have Strauss’s feather-light, quicksilver music bubbling in their blood; they are the finest in the world at reproducing it. The sound recording is also first-rate, with absolutely no audience noise on a so-called live performance. The singing is solid if not spectacular by artists active in regional German houses and elsewhere. The only holdover from Das Spitzentuch is lyric soprano Jessica Glatte. Here she sings the role of the Countess Falconi, doing a quite credible job of the difficult coloratura aria “Gefangen trauern,” added by the composer when the winds of faint praise were presumably beginning to waft over the production. Glatte is good elsewhere as well, playing the bitchy and bewitching Countess as if she owns the role and adding a sparking top to several well-sung ensembles. The Marie, soprano Isabella Ma-Zach, sometimes goes wandering in search of a note here and there, but is generally pretty good; she renders Strauss’s romantic music for the young Alpine lover in a manner most often quite well sung and pleasurable to the ear. Marie’s entrance aria in the first act became a hit for the original cast’s superstar, Marie Geistinger, a Vienna favorite in the mid 19th century, and Ma-Zach carries it off well here, showing us why the piece gained such widespread popularity. The men are solid also, the Arthur of Michael Heim and the Count of Manfred Equiluz both sung quite competently. Bernd Könnes, in the role of the painter Rafaeli, exhibits a vocal wobble more like a bleat, hard on the ear, but fortunately the part is not very big. As in several other Strauss operettas the cast is large, and the remaining singers here perform quite well.


The booklet is first-rate, with a track-keyed synopsis, extended essays, and synopses in German, English, and French. The English translations are sometimes a bit dicky and I’m bothered a little more than fellow reviewer Williams by the lack of libretto and translation, but this set is a must-have for all J. Strauss fans and operetta lovers as well. We may never see its like again.


FANFARE: Bill White