Classical Music

Includes work(s) by Karol Jozef Lipinski. Ensemble: Polish Radio Symphony Orchestra. Conductor: Wojciech Rajski. Soloist: Albrecht Breuninger.

Apart from the opera and the symphony, Max Reger made significant contributions to practically every musical genre. His chamber music certainly occupies the first rank, and within this category, works for violin and piano constitute the largest amount of works. This tonal combination fascinated Reger over the course of a quarter of a century. Since the individual discs unfortunately are no longer available for purchase, for 2016, the Reger Year, CPO is now releasing the complete recordings of this enthralling group of works in a box set, along with his complete cello sonatas and a new booklet containing all the introductory texts and updated biographies of the equally fascinating musicians, including Ulf Wallin and Roland Pöntinen.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Tomaso Albinoni's 12 Trio sonatas Op. 1 receive their premiere recordings on CD on this new specially priced CPO issue. For the most part they are highly spirited works similar in style to that of Albinoni's contemporaries Antonio Vivaldi and Francesco Veracini--though more indebted to the old master of this form, Arcangelo Corelli. However, even listeners with a passing familiarity with this composer will recognize some unique Albinonian qualities. For example, the opening movement of trio sonata No. 6, marked "Grave", moves with an elegance unmistakably characteristic of the composer of the famous Adagio.

The ever-reliable German original instrument ensemble Parnassi Musici (whose recording of Dominico Gallo's trio sonatas for CPO was one of last year's great surprises) performs these minor masterpieces beautifully. CPO's sound is exemplary and the set includes informative historical notes. Albinoni fans will need no encouragement; others looking for a collection of Italian Baroque trio sonatas that rank with the best would do well to consider this offering.
--John Greene, ClassicsToday.com

A popular composer in Germany prior to World War II, Walter Braunfels (1882-1954) will be best known to music lovers thanks to Decca's recording of his very beautiful opera The Birds. This release builds on that favorable impression, and then some. Phantastische Erscheinungen eines Themas von Hector Berlioz (Fantastic Appearances of a Theme by Hector Berlioz) is a giant set of variations on Mephistopheles' "Song of the Flea" from The Damnation of Faust. And if this fact alone isn't enough to whet your appetite, then I'm not sure what will. Structurally the work has something in common with Strauss' Don Quixote--on LSD. The orchestral technique also is quite similar, recognizably German school, with luscious writing for violins and horns, occasional outbursts of extreme virtuosity all around, and a discerning but minimal use of additional percussion.


However, it's clear that Braunfels has given a good deal of thought to both the composer and the source of his theme. There's a healthy touch of humor, real grotesquerie in the quicker movements (No. 11 and the finale particularly), and the woodwinds frequently have the chance to snap and chatter in a recognizably Berliozian manner. Braunfels also includes an absolutely terrifying funeral march (third movement), followed by something that approaches Korngold in melodious luxury. He composed 12 "Erscheinungen" in all, though this performance omits No. 9, which the booklet tells us was standard practice back when the work was played (though it strikes me as something of a pity to leave it out on a recording). They are genuinely delightful, one and all, and the better you know your Berlioz (and Tchaikovsky, and Strauss), the more fun you'll have.


Certainly at nearly 49 minutes, there's plenty of musical invention on display, sumptuously scored and very capably played by Dennis Russell Davies and the Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra. Special credit has to go to the orchestra's comedians, the contrabassoon and tuba, who have a lot of work to do and who not only play extremely well, but who have a conductor who is not afraid to give them the prominence that they deserve. As a coupling, the Serenade is more than a make-weight filler. It's a very attractive piece that once again demonstrates Braunfels' skill in writing what is without question very beautiful music, obviously of its time and place, but without sounding quite like anyone else. Like the music of his contemporary Emil von Reznicek, which CPO is exploring with similar success, this is music that ought never to have vanished from the concert stage, and I can't recommend this powerfully recorded, evocative release highly enough. Wonderful! [1/3/2005]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

This disc makes a strong case for Veracini's music.

Florentine violinist/composer Francesco Maria Veracini was originally trained by his Uncle Agostino Veracini, himself a violinist. By his early twenties he was already regarded as an exceptional virtuoso. He moved to Venice, presumably to provide himself with more opportunities. Veracini made his first trip to London in 1714, marking the beginning of his long years of travelling. Though an esteemed virtuoso, Veracini wasn't an easy person to get on with; Charles Burney described him as capo pazzo (a madman) and others commented on his arrogance and eccentricity. His rivalry with and jealousy of other virtuosi contributed to problems during an extended stay in Dresden and in 1722 he threw himself from a window, apparently in a fit of madness, and broke his leg.

He returned to Florence and composed sacred music and a number of oratorios, now lost. At this period it seems that Locatelli studied with Veracini. By 1733 he was on the move again, to London again where he composed operas for the Opera of the Nobility (the company which was rival to Handel's) and met with some success. He made a number of return visits to London, the final in 1745. He seems to have reappeared in Italy in the 1750s when he returned to Florence where he remained until his death.

This disc, from L'Arte dell'Arco presents a selection of Veracini's pieces, mixing two of his Overtures, two of his Sonatas and one of his violin concertos. It is promised as volume 1 of a series devoted to Veracini's Overtures and Concerti.

The six Overtures date from around 1716 and survive in a manuscript in Venice. Both Overtures are attractive, lively pieces. The Overture VI in G minor is in four movements and Overture II in F major in six movements, with a structure similar to that of a French overture. Both pieces include much brilliant woodwind writing, but that in Overture VI is probably the most virtuosic. The overtures are finely played by L'Arte dell'Arco, giving infectiously vivid performances.

The Sonata VI in A minor comes from an anthology of sonatas - for violin or flute and basso continuo - which Veracini published in Dresden in 1716 and dedicated to Friedrich August of Saxony. It was these which attracted the Prince's attention and caused Veracini to enter the Prince's service. The Sonata VI in A major comes from a later anthology published in Dresden in 1721. These pieces are smaller in scale than the overtures, but give violinist Federico Guglielmo plenty of scope for demonstrating his fine technique.

The centre-piece of the record is the Violin Concerto in A major, taken from a collection of Concerti a Cinque published in Amsterdam in 1719. I must confess that I was slightly disappointed in this piece. The orchestral writing is nowhere near as brilliant as in the overtures and the orchestra is definitely subservient to the violin, in fact the piece is rather closer in feel to the sonatas than the two overtures. That said, Guglielmo brilliantly brings to life the bravura solo writing. There is an element of virtuoso note-spinning, but Guglielmo plays so elegantly that he does convince.

Period performance group L'Arte dell'Arco were founded by Federico Guglielmo in 1994 and specialise in the music of the Venetian republic. On this disc they number some 18 players.

The booklet includes an informative note about Veracini and his music.

There seems to be a welcome revival of interest in the music of the 18th century Italian violin virtuosi. This disc makes a strong case for Veracini's music. I look forward to further volumes.

-- Robert Hugill, MusicWeb International



VERACINI Overture VI in g. Sonata VI in a. Violin Concerto in A. Sonata VII in A. Overture II in F • Federico Guglielmo, vn/cond; L’Arte dell’Arco • CPO 777 302-2 (59:28)


Are we finally going to get a complete recording of Veracini’s overtures and concertos? That would seem to be the case. Naxos began such a series in the 1990s, with Alberto Martini and the Accademia I Filarmonici, but it appears to have stalled after the second volume. Now cpo has issued Overtures and Concertos, Vol. 1 with Federico Guglielmo and the group he founded in 1994, L’Arte dell’Arco. As two of the five selections on the album are from the composer’s various published collections of violin sonatas, perhaps we should include them as well among expected future content. We can take heart in any case from this start of a series devoted to works by the violinist-composer, whose harmonic and contrapuntal capriciousness should make him as popular with today’s audiences as he was controversial with contemporaneous ones.


The selections themselves date from the early part of Veracini’s lengthy and distinguished career. The Sonata VI in A Minor was composed in 1716 in Venice, and was written under the dual influence of Corelli and the emerging galant mode. From the perspective of his subsequent career, however, it’s interesting to note the introduction of supporting contrapuntal elements in the final pair of movements. The overtures are part of a set of six preserved in manuscript that supposedly all date from the same period, though they demonstrate an internal stylistic disparity. Of the two included on this album, that in F Major is largely homophonic, though with a quasi-French overture and a galant sarabande, while the G-Minor Overture emphasizes contrapuntal procedures in its fast movements, and concludes with a curiously mock-somber minuet all’ unisono.


The Violin Concerto in A Major was published in Amsterdam two to three years later, while Veracini was pursuing his contentious career in Dresden. It displays both his intimate knowledge of Vivaldi’s compositional style, and his own great facility in performance. The Sonata VII in A Major, published in Dresden in 1721, shows the influence of the German composers at Prince Elector Friedrich August’s court, where Heinichen, Pisendel, and Zelenka, among others, composed, performed, and competed. Contrapuntal procedures are more prominent, especially in the concluding Allegro’s furious, toccata-like figurations.


The halted series with Martini/Accademia I Filarmonici (Naxos 8.553412; 8.553413) has already been mentioned, and it provides a moderate contrast with Guglielmo/L’Arte dell’Arco. Tempos are a shade more relaxed on Martini than Guglielmo, though both are reasonably varied, while avoiding extremes. Martini as soloist is a bit more flexible in his phrasing. He also employs some performance practices that are thought of as modern—such as taking the figurations in his initial cadenza entry into the concerto’s first movement slightly faster than the tempo established by the orchestra—though this is by no means an indication that the same couldn’t have held true during the Baroque. Guglielmo in general is more square to the bar throughout, though in the specific example above, he lengthens the first note of each figuration slightly and emphasizes it. His performance style also provides an instance in miniature of phrasing characteristics used by his small orchestra: While they lack the sheer heft of Martini’s group or the explosive “chuff” that Göebel/Musica Antiqua Cologne (Archiv 439 937; 447 644) bring to the beginning of many phrases in fast sections, L’Arte dell’Arco applies heavy accents tellingly to score its points.


Make no mistake, this orchestra seems lighter in timbre compared to the others. It lists 17 members, of whom eight are violinists, while only three (cello, violone, theorbo) provide bass support. The sound spread is thus particularly weighted to the bright side of the scale, more so than in Musica Antiqua Cologne or Accademia I Filarmonici. This is no disadvantage, though it may strike listeners familiar with a different instrumental balance as initially peculiar. Guglielmo has no hesitancy in reducing the bass line still further for effect on occasion. In the aforementioned sarabande of the Overture II the bass line is given to the cello, alone, and the result is an almost chamber-like intimacy. Whether this is authentic or not can be argued for years to come, but it works in context.


Guglielmo’s technique is good, and he has a generous tone with plenty of color (including the occasional fast vibrato) to make for the occasional glancing note. His orchestra need not take lessons in blending or unison playing from anyone. Sound is well forward. If these performances were less fine, the draw of the series would still be there. As it is, this is an auspicious cornerstone to build upon.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

Alexander Fesca, born in Karlsruhe in 1820, spent the largest part of his life there. He then took up residence in Braunschweig as a chamber virtuoso to Prince von Fürstenberg in 1842 but died there of a lung ailment in 1849. Fesca compiled a considerable catalogue of sixty works with opus numbers, his main focus piano and chamber music. Op. 12 and 46, two of his six Piano Trios, were composed during the 1840s and thus belong to the same period as relevant works by Mendelssohn and Schumann. Piano Trio №. 5 merits special mention: a highly appealing work with a wealth of beautiful melodies.

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