Rubin Goldmark, the nephew of the famous Karl Goldmark, numbers among the countless composers from the last third of the nineteenth century whose names are no longer remembered today. While his uncle continues to enjoy a place in the concert world, Rubin Goldmark has not been granted this fate. Following the completion of his studies the twenty-one-year-old Goldmark assumed a teaching post at Jeannette Meyers Thurber’s National Conservatory of Music in Manhattan, where Dvorák, his earlier teacher, was the director. His melodically so very rewarding Piano Trio is to be situated in the direct Brahms succession and even that of Schumann. Viennese, Bohemian, and lively popular tones are clearly evident in this composition, which nonetheless freely develops without strictly adhering to potential models. In the Piano Trio composed by Felix Woyrsch in 1919 we repeatedly encounter elements offering glimpses of the twentieth century. However, this composition essentially remains a motivically concentrated, contrapuntally rich piece of work born of the spirit of the turn of the century. Woyrsch’s Four Songs op. 2 number among the songs for voice and piano with an obbligato solo instrument that have been sufficiently known in music history at the latest since Franz Schubert.

A hundred years ago it was absolutely the greatest hit everywhere in Europe – the oratorio Quo Vadis by Feliks Nowowiejski, based on Henryk Sienkiewicz’s novel of the same name and magnificently scored for soloists, mixed chorus, organ, and orchestra. We at cpo are now releasing this gigantic work in an interpretation by the Poznan Philharmonic under the conductor Lukasz Borowicz and with outstanding soloists and the Chorus of the Podlasie Opera and Philharmonic of Bialystok. Nowowiejski composed his oratorio in 1903, and during the following thirty years it was performed more than two hundred times throughout Europe and in North and South America – not least because its literary source, Henryk Sienkiewicz’s novel with this title, was very well known. The Polish writer Sienkiewicz was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1905, and the popularity of his novel Quo Vadis must have substantially contributed to this decision. Many of Nowowiejski’s works are the expression of a quest for identity, and here the oratorio Quo Vadis leads the search. After all, it embodies generally humanistic values – like Sienkiewicz’s literary oeuvre – and was and is situated beyond the realm of partisan politics.

Lena Neudauer attracted international attention when at the age of fifteen she not only spectacularly won the Leopold Mozart Competition in Augsburg but also was awarded practically all the special prizes. And Matthias Kirschnereit has long enjoyed international renown, even though he eschews the glamorous world of stardom. We have now brought together these two most highly talented musicians for a recording of Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy's Concerto for Violin, Piano, and String Orchestra, a work with a tradition extending from Bach and Baroque music by way of Mozart and Haydn to early romanticism. In the second early work heard on this album, the Violin Concerto in D minor, the legacy of classicism and that of Bach's highly regarded son Carl Philipp Emanuel, are clearly audible. For Mendelssohn's teacher Zelter and contemporary audiences the musical aesthetic of the late eighteenth century continued to dictate taste. Both of these early concertos attest to an authentic boy genius and an acclaimed public favorite!

Paul Graener was a “latest romanticist” with a strong inclination for French impressionism – which as a composer in the Germany of the first half of the twentieth century makes him a unique case. This month cpo is presenting three of his concertos on our fourth Graener album. Once again it is shown that this music more than deserves to be rediscovered. Hardly any other companion of Paul Graener’s so intensely supported his oeuvre as did the cellist Paul Grümmer, the dedicatee of this composer’s Cello Concerto and the soloist at its premiere in 1927. The critic Adolf Diesterweg wrote in a review: “Graener’s new Cello Concerto contains naturally invented, succinctly formed music enabling the cellist, thanks to the transparent orchestral part, to sound his instrument effectively. In my view the most beautiful movement is the highly cantabile and atmospheric Adagio. The Violin Concerto has harmonically original, fascinating sound elements showing us Graener at an absolute creative summit. The time of composition of Graener’s last finished composition, his Flute Concerto, coincides with the increasing bombardment and destruction of Berlin. Here it is above all the last movement that stands out and attracts our attention – and does so not so much because of its neoclassical guise, something already to be encountered in Graener’s works of the 1930s, but rather on account of his choice of the life-affirming folk song, which displays a cheerful mood that can be harmonized neither with the difficult circumstances of Graener’s life nor with the wartime events taking place at that time.”

The Echo Klassik prizewinner Elisaveta Blumina numbers among the outstanding female musicians of the younger generation who pursue their own paths, unaffected by any sort of “star cult.” Along with the classical piano repertoire, Elisaveta Blumina occupies herself very intensively with the music of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Her internationally highly regarded recordings of the Soviet Jewish composer Mieczyslaw Weinberg, to whose rediscovery she is tirelessly committed, are among the projects documenting this involvement. For cpo she has now recorded three sonatas by Weinberg. The clear proportions and modest length of the Sonatina op. 49 led Weinberg to rework it in 1978 in order to expand its structure, lengthen it into the Sonata op. 49, and to readjust its balance. In this sonata of classical design Weinberg further developed the spectrum of musical expression and increased the technical demands when compared to his Sonata No. 2 and the Sonatina. The Sonata op. 49 numbers among the few productions for the concert hall from this creative phase, which was reserved for intensive occupation with film music – and in particular for animated films. Emil Gilels recorded the Sonata No. 4 in 1960. Unlike the version by this dedicatee, which maintains a swift tempo, Elisaveta Blumina’s slower, more intensive playing lends greater expression to the work’s drama and grief.

Do you know Georg Schumann? No, he is not the unknown brother, nephew or grandson of his famous name father Robert. Nevertheless, he was a respected composer, pianist and, above all, a music teacher. The German Symphonie-Orchester Berlin, under the direction of James Feddeck, has recently dealt with some of his great orchestral works. Trained by Carl Reinecke, encounters with Liszt, Brahms, Rubinstein, Mahler or Bruch, head of the master class for composition at the Prussian Academy of Arts in Berlin for more than half a century, Berlin Philharmonic's long-standing regular guest etc. All these are unmistakable signs of the importance of Georg Schumann as a composer, pianist, conductor and pedagogue. Musicians of the following generations would still have to be indefinitely grateful to him, since he and Richard Strauss, together with others, founded the cooperative of German composers, today's GEMA. And yet his name is nowadays no longer on concert programs, let alone in CD catalogs. It is all the more pleasing to see Georg Schumann again at cpo.

Marc-Antoine Charpentier's Actéon is a pastorale or miniature opera based on Greek mythology. Staged in 1684, the story is about the hunter Actaeon who peeks at the bathing goddess Diana, turned into a red deer, pursued and killed by his own hounds. The music is continuously imaginative with rhythmic choral parts, elegant solos and dramatic flourishes.

Includes cto(s) by Johann Friedrich Fasch. Ensemble: La Stravaganza Cologne. Soloists: Sergio Azzolini, Veronika Skuplik.

Franz Krommer (1759-1831) was a first rate composer. As you can see, he was three years younger than Mozart, and outlived both Beethoven and Schubert. During that time, he wrote hundreds of instrumental works: chamber music, concertos, nine symphonies (No. 8 is missing), and the wind ensemble music on which his reputation now largely rests. Interestingly, he composed almost no vocal music. The quality of his output is very high: he really sounds like the natural successor to Haydn in many respects. His symphonies are almost exactly contemporary with Beethoven’s, and rather than sounding conservative or reactionary, we can hear them as part of an evolving tradition–different but not necessarily inferior.

Krommer’s idiom evolved as he aged. These three symphonies date from the 1820s, and reveal a composer moving comfortably within the classical style (of which he was a charter member, let’s not forget), but extending its expressive range through vivid orchestration and an expanded harmonic vocabulary. In its rhythms and frequent alternation between major and minor modes, his music also sounds recognizably Czech. Consider the dance movements in each of these three symphonies. Although he calls them “Menuetto,” they are true scherzos (sound clip), full of harmonic and rhythmic audacities. You won’t find Beethoven’s bigness of vision here, but then you don’t find that anywhere else either. In all other respects, these are outstandingly fine works.

The symphonies have been recorded previously (most of them, anyway), but these versions from Howard Griffiths are exemplary in their stylishness and alertness to every nuance that Krommer asks for. The findings of the period instrument movement manifest in the generally swift tempos and incisive accents, but this never becomes a fetish. Excellent engineering makes this release utterly irresistible. We badly need a systematic critical edition of Krommer’s works, accompanied by a wide ranging series of recordings. In the meantime, grab this and marvel.

– ClassicsToday (David Hurwitz)

Our gigantic edition of Carl Loewe’s complete song and ballad oeuvre proved to be a great success and revealed a genuine cosmos of great dramatic works and enthralling genre miniatures. However, it is known only to a few that Loewe not only composed some six hundred songs and ballads but also produced chamber music. In 1831 the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung described his Piano Trio or Grand Trio op. 12 as “magnificent, finely invented, sustained, and intelligently developed.” Robert Schumann expressed himself in a similar vein: “It is perhaps one of the most fundamentally genuine and most imaginative works by Loewe, one of those worthiest of the best master. Every trio circle must have it.” In his last instrumental work, the Duo Espagnôla for viola and piano, the composer once again ventured onto national terrain and took with him the viola as a special expressive means conveying the Spanish character. The work is melodious throughout and shows both instruments in their best light. The Scottish Pictures for clarinet and piano from Loewe’s late period are demanding genre scenes inspired by the composer’s interest in the Scottish landscape and the country’s vicissitudinous history. At the time enthusiasm for the wild north of the British Isles was very fashionable.

The discovery of Telemann’s previously unknown Altona Jubel-Music von 1760 in an omnibus manuscript belonging to the Hamburg State and University Library but first returned in 1998 from Armenia, where it had been deposited for wartime safekeeping, is remarkable in several respects. »Already immediately after the first performance of the work in Altona’s principal church on 16 October 1760, an unknown reporter writing in the Altonaer Mercurius judged that it was ‘a superbly beautiful composition.’ And it is in fact a qualitatively outstanding composition ranking with the best that Telemann composed during his last years. One more top-quality work increases our knowledge of Telemann’s late oeuvre. Until a few years ago it was also not known to what an astonishing degree Telemann had been active as a composer in Altona (at least twelve festive compositions written from 1741 to 1764), which then belonged to Denmark, or that at the time there was even a noteworthy musical scene in Altona. The two-part composition consisting of sixteen numbers to the text of an unknown poet honors King Frederick V of Denmark on the occasion of the hundredth anniversary of the hereditary sovereignty of the Danish royal house« (Jurgen Neubacher, Staats- und Universitätsbibliothek Hamburg).

While little is known about Dario Castello (before 1600-1644), we are left with his Sonate concertate in stil moderno. This work by Castello, published in two books in 1621 and 1629 enjoyed great popularity, and were continually reprinted. Castello’s music is known for its virtuosic solos. The Musica Fiata performs these works with grandeur.

This disc makes the perfect introduction to a composer who has more to offer than the fact that he was Beethoven's pal.

This is a lovely program of exciting, colorful music. Ferdinand Ries may not have been a great composer in large forms, such as symphonies and concertos, but these single-movement pieces give him the opportunity to use his imagination, and he takes full advantage. The Ouverture bardique, for example, asks for six harps (though it sounds more like two here, since there are only two individual parts), and employs a Welsh folk theme. Both The Bride of Messina and Don Carlos (plays by Schiller) are suitably dramatic, and full of fire. Ries loads his Victory March with brass and percussion, but the music's high kick is buoyant rather than pompous. The dramatic overture "L'Apparition" was Ries' final orchestral work, and it seems to foretell the Mendelssohn of A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Howard Griffiths and the Cologne radio orchestra play the music with plenty of spirit. The solo woodwinds, which Ries employs with particular gusto, have lots of character. Timpani use hard sticks, and the strings offer a lean sound that mellows expressively in lyrical passages. The style, with biting, edgy brass, is obviously "period performance"-influenced, but not absurdly so. In short, the performances are stylish and sound idiomatic. As usual with German radio engineering, the sonics are very good, with excellent balances between orchestral sections. This disc makes the perfect introduction to a composer who has more to offer than the fact that he was Beethoven's pal.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

The composer Ries, born in Bonn, Germany, will not be known to many nowadays, yet he had been London-based, had an English wife and wrote a number of overtures for the Philharmonic Society to perform. The concert 'ouvertures', as such, had been invented by Romberg, Spohr and Schneider. Previously, the regular concert hall practice of starting an evening with a single movement of a symphony was felt too severe an introduction for the audiences. Consequently, lighter pieces were introduced with stronger melodic line and easier on the ear to endear the audience and encourage their focus.

Such ouvertures were not written on the frothy styles of Zampa, Poet and Peasant or Barber of Seville where fanfare and catchy repetitious melodic phrases became the norm. Those were to come later. The ouvertures here are more solid and owe more to Beethoven ( Egmont) or Weber ( Der Freischütz) in weight and style. This is not surprising for Ries had been a pupil of Beethoven.

I found the pieces soft-toned in colour yet engaging to the ear. Only once did I sit up when I heard off-beat, knocking, percussive effects: I wonder what the audiences expecting a certain legato flow thought of this acoustic intrusion? Ries's Ouverture bardique is particularly British by its inclusion of the well-known Welsh folk song, 'All through the night'. By the time Ries premièred this ouverture, versions of the folk song had been published and even used by Gay in The Beggar's Opera.

Cologne's WDR Symphony Orchestra gives a strong performance and are well coordinated under Howard Griffiths’ direction. Although English there is no record of his home town, only his RCM association. He has gained significant experience on the Continent, especially in Switzerland with the Zurich Chamber Orchestra where he has been Principal Conductor for ten years. He is clearly interested in reviving lost pieces and in this he is well-partnered with CPO who should be congratulated for their fresh approach to the repertoire they cover. The pieces are recorded in a good acoustic with well-balanced dynamics.

The well-written notes by Bert Hagels cover the Ouvertures in detail yet overlooks detail about this interesting composer. The notes are provided in German, English and French.

-- Raymond J Walker, MusicWeb International

Vanhal numbers among the most productive composers of the 18th century. Among other works, 77 symphonies and 60 solo concertos by him are documented. Burney remarked when the composer was only age 33 that he would not hesitate to name Vanhal’s symphonies among the most complete and perfect compositions, for many instruments, which the art of music can boast. This album contains world premiere recordings of 3 genuinely gripping works.

The Loreley is one of the most famous figures of the romantic era, and even today the massive rock in the Rhine is notorious for threatening the river’s skippers with shipwreck. The legendary female figure with her seductive beauty today no longer haunts the river, but her story continues to resonate in the imagination. In 1861, when he was a mere twenty years old, Max Bruch, a Rhinelander born in Cologne, devoted an opera to the Loreley, a work based on a libretto by the great Emanuel Geibel himself. This opera in four acts is only rarely performed and until now has never been recorded on album. The Munich Radio Orchestra will now change this state of affairs: in a concert performance initiated by cpo the orchestra presented the work under the conductor Stefan Blunier, who was the General Music Director of the City of Bonn – that is, in the vicinity of the Loreley – when the recording was produced. The marvelous Michaela Kaune interpreted the title role in a top-quality performance, and Thomas Mohr was her male counterpart. Bruch set the Loreley story, in which everything, both in ambience and action, constituting a “Grand Romantic Opera” (thus the work’s subtitle) is present, in a highly romantic musical language. It is not without reason that Hans Pfitzner lent his support to this forgotten gem throughout his life.

Classical Music

WAGENAAR De getemde feeks: Overture. Levenszomer. Saul en David. Romantisch Intermezzo. Frithjofs Meerfahrt • Antony Hermus, cond; NW German Phil • CPO 777 479-2 (50:16)


Outside of the Netherlands, the music of Johan Wagenaar (1862–1941) is not well known. Its most prominent bid for worldwide dissemination, conductor Riccardo Chailly’s Decca CD with the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, was issued almost 20 years ago. (It seems like it was almost yesterday.) Of course it was deleted during the previous decade’s Great Cultural Purge, but those who want it badly enough might be able to find a used copy, or an ArkivMusic CD-R reincarnation. (It is not currently listed on their Web site, but it may well be cycled back into circulation if enough people request it.) It overlaps the present CD in the overture to De getemde feeks (The Taming of the Shrew) and Saul en David . An earlier recording of Frithjofs Meerfahrt (“Frithiof’s Sea Voyage”) can be found on a disc of Dutch overtures in which the Netherlands Radio Philharmonic Orchestra is conducted by Jac van Steen, but that has become scarce as well. Those who are interested in exploring Wagenaar’s music probably will gravitate to the present release, then, unless money is no object, or unless they are particularly persistent.


I was curious about Wagenaar back in the early 1990s because I mistakenly thought that he had been the composition and harmony teacher of Bernard Herrmann. Actually, that was Bernard Wagenaar, who was no relation to Johan! I was glad to discover Johan Wagenaar’s music, however, for its (Richard) Straussian opulence and its salubrious affect. Those qualities are expressed most strongly in the concert overture, dating from 1909, which opens this CD—a good example of putting one’s best foot forward. Wagenaar doesn’t try to translate Shakespeare’s play into music. Instead, he contents himself with creating a positive, masculine mood, and his success in doing so is appealing enough.


Strauss often is cited as Wagenaar’s strongest influence, and then Berlioz, but it takes only a little imagination to hear his indebtedness to Brahms, and perhaps even a glance or two eastward at Glazunov. Elgar, who composed his own virtual tribute to Strauss in his orchestral work In the South , also can be compared to Wagenaar … or rather, the other way around, since Wagenaar’s music lacks the creativity of Elgar’s, to say nothing of Strauss’s. Still, one can argue that there can never be too much late-Romantic music, and Wagenaar’s works, while not revolutionary, are very satisfying when they are judged on their own terms. Levenszomer (“Summer of Life”) is a voluble expression of human happiness—perhaps the composer’s own, having found success after an impecunious childhood. Frithjofs Meerfahrt lacks many of the musical cues composers generally use to suggest Fahr ting on the Meer , or the Meer itself, and an episode involving two sea monsters is hardly impressive, so perhaps it is best to hear it as absolute music—it succeeds rather well as that. The same is true for the Intermezzo , which is more Romantisch stylistically than in the sense of amorousness. Saul and David naturally features an important part for the harp. Its inspiration was a painting by Rembrandt—no longer thought to be authentic, however. Again, Wagenaar’s skilled but generalized response encourages one to hear the score as accomplished absolute music, and to leave it at that.


The present selection sticks to music composed before 1910, so a second volume might be in the works. (Knowing cpo’s habits, that actually seems likely.) The Northwest German Philharmonia can’t compete with the Royal Concertgebouw’s tonal allure, but there’s nothing at all embarrassing about these performances. Antony Hermus knows his way around the music and keeps it from stagnating, although Chailly believes in it too, and almost succeeds in hiding the moments—not very many, mind you—when Wagenaar’s inspiration flags. In the absence of Chailly, though, this cpo disc makes Wagenaar’s case well enough.


FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle

Classical Music

LISZT Ad nos, ad salutarem undam Fantasy and Fugue for organ and orchestra (arr. Dupré). Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen, Zagen (orch. Weiner). Orpheus, for organ (trans. Liszt). Prelude and Fugue on B-A-C-H (orch. Bischof) • Martin Haselböck, cond; Christian Schmitt (org); Deutsche RP (Saarbrücken/Kaiserslautern) • CPO 777 472–2 (69:58)


During his Weimar years, Liszt’s friend, the organist Alexander Winterberger, spurred his interest in the organ, prompting the composition of two of his most ambitious works, the Ad nos… Fantasy and Fugue (1850) and the Prelude and Fugue on B-A-C-H (1855, revised 1870). Thereafter, Liszt experimented, transcribing a number of his own works, including the tone poem Orpheus . The Weinen, Klagen,… variations, composed for piano in 1862, were transcribed for organ the following year. Considering the metamorphoses visited upon them by their composer, the step to orchestral arrangements by other hands was small, if ambitious. Depending on venue and acoustics, the instrument, registrations, and the acumen of engineers, these organ works can come across as towering masterpieces or murky monster-pieces. One of the joys of the orchestral transcriptions is hearing details often covered in cavernous rumble or obscured by distance on the organ standing forth boldly from the orchestra, their intricacies revealed, while their climactic moments acquire major clout and transparency. Weiner’s tilt at Weinen, Klagen,… is indebted to mid-19th-century models, highlighting a Gothic, cobwebby aura clinging to Liszt’s kaleidoscopic variations. Rainer Bischof’s take on the BACH Prelude and Fugue , on the other hand, is brash, brassy, and unabashedly modern in its use of an overloaded wind and percussion contingent (in addition to the cited vibraphone, do I hear a wood block, tubular bells, and a glockenspiel, among other novelties?) to make for metallic brilliance, glittering passage work, and climactic cataclysmics. The Gothic stunner, however, is Marcel Dupré’s arrangement of the Ad nos … Fantasy and Fugue for organ and orchestra, a feat placing what many believe to be Liszt’s greatest single work in company with the Saint-Saëns Organ Symphony and Poulenc’s Concerto for Organ and Orchestra.


One expected more of Christian Schmitt, whose recent go at Koechlin’s organ works (CPO 777 512–2, Fanfare 36:4) demonstrated an arresting keenness to that composer’s psychic, haunted atmospherics. His Orpheus is well-paced in the way that one thing leads to another, though having heard performances in which episodes escalate with fraught portent—e.g., Olivier Vernet’s solo rendering, or, as we’re considering transcriptions, his duo with Laurent Cabasso on piano (a six-CD intégrale , Ligia 0104226–11)—Schmitt’s dynamic range and resources of feeling are audibly constricted. The Ad nos … arrangement compels more adventurous playing, but Schmitt is disadvantaged by the recessed capture of the organ in Luxembourg’s Philharmonic Hall which allows orchestral overshadowing. That said, the upshot is still thrilling, magnificent, and magisterial. To the last point, one may feel that, in their orchestral and orchestra/organ garb, one is hearing these works for the first time. Martin Haselböck, himself an organist of exceptional prowess, who has performed the originals many times and recorded them at least twice, leads with a sweep alert to detail and, in the Ad nos … Fantasy and Fugue , manages the organ/orchestra dialogue with potent eloquence, though the recording imbalance becomes distracting in the fugue. The orchestral works come across in immediate, transparent, often walloping sound. Enthusiastically recommended.


FANFARE: Adrian Corleonis

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

Includes work(s) by various composers. Ensemble: Schuppanzigh Quartet.

It was in 1905, an entire decade prior to Wilhelm Stenhammar's second symphony, that Hugo Alfv�n completed his third symphony. In this work Alfv�n, like many other Scandinavian composers, found the typical Nordic tone of his music in the sunny south. Like Sibelius' second symphony and Stenhammar's Serenade for Orchestra, this symphony is Swedish through and through. In addition, it is pervaded by the longing for home repeatedly felt by Alfv�n during his years of wandering. He composed his Uppsala Rhapsody in 1907 for the commemoration of the two hundredth anniversary of the birth of the great botanist Carl von Linn� (Linnaeus) held at the University of Uppsala in May 1907. Like it's counterpart by Johannes Brahms, this work turned out to be an �Academic Festival Overture� including some student songs. The Concert Suite from Alfv�n's ballet The Mountain King offers a masterful wealth of color. His excellent knowledge of the art of instrumentation was the product of his earlier activity as a violinist in the Royal Court Orchestra, which also served as the Opera Orchestra.

For quite some time the composer and music educator Ludwig Thuille (1861-1907) seemed to stand in the shadow of his friend Richard Strauss, three years his junior. Nevertheless, in the end their friendship and the exchange between them contributed to artistic development on both sides. Thuille's chamber music, including mature contributions representing the high point of his composing, occupies a very great place in his overall oeuvre. Here we find tonally beautiful works full of swing and rich in thematic invention guaranteed to enthrall listeners even today.

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

Throughout the early nineteenth century La Clemenza di Tito was Mozart's most popular opera everywhere in Europe. Since he died merely three months after it's completion, he did not live to see how successful the opera became. In keeping with the practice during that time period, it was performed in versions adapted to the times and the taste of the opera public and that is precisely the starting point for the conductor, Alessandro De Marchi. This release is as authentic as possible and quite a delight for Mozart lovers.