Following Tatjana Ruhland’s cpo release with flute compositions by Carl Reinecke, which has just been awarded the OPUS KLASSIK 2018 for the best concerto recording of the year, music critics have described her as "the top class in her field" and as "a virtuoso and nimble flutist" with "a warm tone full of interpretive intensity." On her new cpo album she dedicates herself to three flute concertos by August Eberhard Müller. Beethoven esteemed Müller as an artist, and Goethe valued him as a music expert; contemporary lexicographers praised him as a composer and as an interpreter on the flute, piano, and organ, and Friedrich Rochlitz, the founding editor of the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung, described him as a composer whose works were "of definite, enduring value." Müller also did not have to beg for prestigious posts: he was the St. Thomas choirmaster and organist and Johann Sebastian Bach’s fourth successor in Leipzig from 1804 to 1810 and the court music director in Weimar, "seat of the Muses," from 1810 until his death. Müller’s flute concertos, eleven in all, were printed between 1794 and 1816, and two single pieces for flute and orchestra were published in 1804 and 1817. It thus may be said that he thoroughly occupied himself with this genre or instrumentation during his active years as a composer, and his flute concertos make no secret of his great admiration for Mozart.

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This is fantastically beautiful music: luscious, tuneful, evocative, but never decadent or devoid of energy and purpose. The Sinfonia for strings began life as a quintet, but it sounds splendid for large ensemble. Its four relatively compact movements last about half an hour and are suffused with that "Nordic melancholy" that makes so much of Atterberg's music appealing. There's plenty of vigor too, particularly in the second-movement scherzo and finale. Adagio amoroso was Atterberg's last orchestral work, completed when he was 80, and it also is primarily wistful in character. Both the Intermezzo and Prelude & Fugue are occasional pieces, the former big-boned and hymn-like, the latter slight and generically nice.


Most delightful of all is the Suite No. 7, a string arrangement of incidental music to Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra. This is marvelous stuff, worthy of Grieg at his best, with a third-movement waltz that easily could become a pops concert favorite. The performances are uniformly excellent: well-played, passionate, and intense, doing the music full justice. Sonically the microphones are just a bit too close to the strings; the result can be overwhelming in fortissimos, but given Atterberg's romantic style it's a slip in the right direction. This is a disc not to be missed, and a treat for all fans of good, warm, tuneful, big-hearted music.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

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]

TELEMANN Herr, wir liegen für dir mit unserm Gebet, TWV 1: 781. Es wollt uns Gott genädig sein, TWV 1:544. Es spricht der Unweisen Mund, TWV 1:533a. So ziehet nun an, TWV 1:1390. Wertes Zion, sei getrost, TWV 1: 1606 • Gotthold Schwarz, cond; Siri Karoline Thornhill (sop); Stefan Kahle (ct); Susanne Krumbiegel (alt); Tobias Hunger (ten); Gotthold Schwarz (bs); Bach Consort Leipzig; Sächsisches Barock O (period instruments) • CPO 777 7532 (70:36 Text and Translation)


It is no surprise that Telemann, along with Johann Sebastian Bach and Christoph Graupner, can be considered the main composers of the Lutheran cantata during the first half of the 18th century. After all, the Harmonisches Gottesdienst was meant to provide first-rate but easily performable cantatas in cyclic form for the year for places that were missing larger vocal and instrumental forces, and this published set is only a small tithe of the works that he was to write for the church. Thus, calling this set of five works Luther Cantatas , as the title of the disc has it, rather begs the question of redundancy. Nevertheless, when three texts of that number are by Erdmann Neumeister, the main promoter of the genre, such a rubric should be accepted.


These works are all outgrowths of the Magdeburg Telemann Festival, which annually seems to unearth and perform an almost inexhaustible supply of the composer’s music, and the 21st season was devoted to the theme of his connection with Luther. As was usual with Telemann, the structure of these cantatas varies considerably. The first, Herr, wir liegen für dir , is conventional, with pairs of arias and recitatives bookended by the choral “Dictum” and a final chorale. In the second, the usual recitative is omitted altogether, and it is prefaced by a nicely suspensive sinfonia, while in the third Telemann dispenses with the arias, allowing the threefold choral repetitions (two chorales and a final chorus) to be separated by brief recitatives, the second of which does have a brief devolution into a duet Dictum at the end. The movements can be rather conventional, such as his square setting of A mighty fortress in the final cantata Wertes Zion , or the other chorale tunes. But he also inserts moments of harmonic and melodic boldness, such as the tortuous melismas of the aria “Weg, ihr Sünden” in the first cantata, which get spun out by the bass as if to underscore the text “kränkt mich nicht” (do not constrict or grieve me). The second cantata even ends with a gnarly contrapuntal “Amen” fugue that seems startling, given the almost homophonic nature of the preceding chorales. Telemann is also quite inventive in terms of his use of instrumentation. In the first aria of the first cantata, “Was ich an Gerechtigkeit,” the two flutes (traversos) weave a gentle crystalline minuet around a flowing soprano line that is like a clear brook. In the first duet of the second cantata, Es wollt uns Gott , the oboes are wonderfully throaty, with their darker tone colors emphasizing some curious harmonic inflections that support the parallel thirds of the solo voices. In the last cantata, Telemann uses his high trumpets both as soaring clarion calls and as fanfares. In the chorus, “Seid böse, ihr Völker,” the admonitions of the voices are punctuated by a militaristic brass line, which is suddenly interrupted by plaintive minor-key insertions that provide abrupt and effective dramatic contrast.


In short, these are all excellent examples of the Lutheran church cantata of the time, equal to the same sort of works that were being turned out by Bach over in Leipzig. Conductor Gotthold Schwarz keeps the ensemble clean and crisp, with a nice variety of tempos that emphasize Telemann’s contrasts. He also functions as bass soloist, with a light tone that handles the often twisting lines well. Soprano Siri Thornhill has a bright voice that can sound, as in the aria “Was ich an Gerechtigkeit,” innocent and reticent, just what the Affekt requires. Countertenor Stefan Kahle and alto Susanne Krumbiegel are flexible, as is the precise tone of tenor Tobias Hunger. In short, not only are these fine examples of Telemann’s style in cantata writing, the performances support and present them in a way that promotes their compositional features. My only quibble is that I seem to hear a pair of horns in the background of the straightforward chorale “Ein feste Burg,” which are not mentioned in the list of personnel. That does provide a nice support for the voices, but they should have been mentioned. Other than that, this is a disc that Telemann collectors will want. Recommended.


FANFARE: Bertil van Boer

Classical Music

Classical Music

ORFF Ein Sommernachtstraum • Christian von Gehren, cond; actors; Andechs Fest Ch; Munich Youth O; Munich Radio O Andechs ORFF Academy • CPO 777 657 (146:09) Live: Andechs 7/28–30/2010


Carl Orff’s incidental music for Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream grew out of the desire of the National Socialists—generally, but here specifically Frankfurt’s anti-Semitic Lord Mayor Friedrich Krebs—to produce an appropriately Aryan accompaniment to the play as replacement for the now inconveniently “Jewish” musical additions of Felix Mendelssohn. Orff, even as his scenic cantata Carmina burana was gaining popular acclaim in the new Germany, was concerned with his politically dubious reputation as a modernist and consorter with leftists during the Weimar years. So he took the commission despite warnings from his pragmatic publisher that he would never be able to “dispatch Mendelssohn.” In fairness, his interest in the Elizabethan comedy was real; he had been working on such incidental music since 1917. No doubt he also found the sizable advance attractive. But what had been politically expedient in 1938—he prospered during the Third Reich—was to haunt him after the war, however facile his explanations, and at the least diminishes any pleasure one might have in hearing what he has to offer.


Or maybe not. The audience certainly seems to enjoy this production from the 2010 Orff in Andechs Festival. It will be rougher going for anyone lacking fluent German. Though the story is well known, and the alert listener will be able to figure out what is happening some of the time, there is no text, translation, or synopsis, a serious failing shared with cpo’s other recording from this festival, the Orff/Monteverdi Orpheus . My admiration goes out to anyone who, textless, can happily attend for more than two hours and 20 minutes to heavily edited Shakespeare in German, with attractively dreamlike but inconsequential and repetitive music cues that cannot even be appreciated in context of the words they are to amplify.


Cynicism aside, one is left wondering what Orff did to earn his substantial commission. Many of the handful of independent pieces are adaptations of other compositions: The prelude is from Carmina burana (“Si puer cum puellula”) transformed into a fanfare, used again in full as a replacement for the wedding march. The Rustics are introduced (in this version of 1964) with music from the 1943 fairy tale opera Die Kluge, which, in this context, jars with its banality. Annotator Thomas Rösch suggests other sources: Carmina burana again (“Chramer, gip die varwe mir”) for Titania’s lullaby, and an allusion to the act II duet for Octavian and Sophie from Der Rosenkavalier for the moonrise scene. I suppose one could make a game out of identifying the remaining borrowed themes, but I’ll leave that to others.


There are magical moments; the playing of the trumpet to the moon has the same charm as the ending of Der Mond , the prelude to the ninth scene in Theseus’ palace recalls moments of repose in the famous cantata, and the wonderful midnight melodrama (though I would have wanted Puck’s speeches done less malevolently) and finale (name that source!) provide a fitting end. Would that it all had been so engaging. The youth orchestras, and the chorus in its brief outings, are able; the recording clear for those for whom German is not an obstacle. The birds chirping in the forest are a nice touch. In any case, though my curiosity has been only partly satisfied, at least now, thanks to cpo, the historical footnote is made tangible. You might want to check the samples online before buying. And find a translation.


FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames

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GILSE Symphony No. 4 in A. Funeral Music on the Death of Uilenspiegel. Concert Overture in c • David Porcelijn, cond; Netherlands SO • CPO 777689 (62:33)


CPO here continues apace with its survey of Jan van Gilse’s symphonies. Details of the composer’s life and descriptions of his music can be found in reviews of his first three symphonies in 32:2 and 36:2. The Fourth Symphony in A Major occupied Gilse from 1910 to 1915, and appears to be his last fully completed symphony; only a fragment of a Fifth exists, dating from 1922, and since the composer lived for another 22 years after that, it has to be assumed that it wasn’t death that prevented him from completing it. The Concert Overture in C Minor has received a previous recording by Jac van Steen conducting the Netherlands Radio Symphony Orchestra on an NM CD. It was reviewed in 31:5.


If you acquired one or both of David Porcelijn’s CPO recordings of Gilse’s first three symphonies, you’ll know what to expect of the Fourth, and there’s really not a lot to add. This is well-made music in high romantic style. Commenting on the First Symphony in 32:2, David H. North pegged it as Dvo?ák’s No. 4-1/3. Gilse has advanced considerably beyond Dvo?ák in his Fourth Symphony, but considering its date of composition, it’s still a decade or so behind its time. The most pervasive influence on the score, even more so than on Gilse’s Third Symphony, is Richard Strauss. The music is shot through with much of the same orchestral busyness—the flashes, splashes, and dashes of luminous colors—and the long-arching passages of melodic and harmonic nostalgia familiar from Strauss’s tone poems. If Gilse’s First Symphony was Dvo?ák’s No. 4-1/3, his Fourth Symphony is Strauss’s Don Juanenspiegel.


The Strauss connection is literary as well as musical. In 1941, during the German occupation of Holland, Gilse composed his Funeral Music on the Death of Uilenspiegel , the flip side, if you will, of Strauss’s Till . This, for Gilse, was how things ended for the legendary merry prankster. The music now anticipates the Strauss of Metamorphosen of four years later. If this and previous reviews have not taken Gilse very seriously, his Funeral Music is a score that commands serious attention and perhaps a re-evaluation of his work as a whole. The piece actually was extracted from a section of Gilse’s opera Thijl and then expanded to stand as an independent orchestral work. The Concert Overture of 1900 is Gilse’s first attempt at a piece for orchestra and it, like the First Symphony, contains echoes of Dvo?ák.


Of the three CPO discs released so far in this series, I find myself most impressed by this one. Performance and recording standards remain very high, and this is music anyone who enjoys beautifully crafted and magnificently scored orchestral music of the type and style described will derive much pleasure from. Strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

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

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

- CPO [Translated from German]

Classical Music

Emil Nikolaus von Reznicek had a very conflicted relationship with the German symphonic legacy. His First Symphony, subtitled “Tragic,” is anything but. The Second, the “Ironic,” is arguably too cute for its own good. The Fifth is a suite of dances orchestrated from piano originals–it’s not really a symphony at all. The two immaculately crafted works on this release make the best impression so far, while confirming that when it came to dealing with the imposing musical tradition that he inherited, Reznicek basically hadn’t a clue. Even so, there are times when failure can be interesting, especially when it’s done with such craft.

The Third Symphony, subtitled “In the Olden Style” (in the score, not on the tray card), is written for classical orchestra: double winds, two trumpets, four horns, timpani and strings. Its music is pure pastiche. It begins with a 15th century folk song, and continues with a first movement that recalls Schumann, albeit with better orchestration. The third movement is a faux Haydn minuet (sound clip) with tipsy harmonies, while the finale takes the accompaniment of the opening of Mendelssohn’s Italian Symphony and combines it with the tune of the Scottish Symphony’s scherzo. It tries really hard to be adorable, but winds up sounding forced and tired. The trio of the minuet is a bland Ländler, and the finale fails to sustain the energy of its opening. It’s really a bit sad.

The situation hardly improves in the Fourth. Its slow movement is a “Funeral March for a Comedian,” and might strike you as a bit like Prokofiev, without the melodic character. The scherzo is just a good piece of traditional symphonic writing, but the outer movements are a mess. This work adds trombones,and features two crashes for cymbals and bass drum in the finale, but is otherwise just as conservative, not to say inhibited, as its predecessor. The grand chorale at the end never quite achieves the culmination that Reznicek obviously intends, and like the Third Symphony you get the sense that the medium simply resists the composer’s best efforts to write something plausibly honest and genuine.

In short, these two decadent relics are fun to listen to as desperate attempts to grapple with a tradition that, however vital and vibrant just about everywhere else in the world, was truly dead in Germany. They are fascinating documents of their time (the first decades of the 20th century), and Frank Beermann contrives to offer the most successful release thus far of the three devoted to Reznicek’s symphonies.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

When the symphonic poem The Raven after Edgar Allan Poe celebrated it's premiere in London in March, 1900, the critics showered hymns of praise on his work so rich in unique orchestral colors and on it's young composer Josef Holbrooke. It brought him his breakthrough and firmly established his reputation as an innovative and original contemporary composer. There are certainly many settings of Poe's poem, but Holbrooke was the first composer who did not merely set the text but used it as the poetic basis for his first "Poem for Orchestra." Holbrooke's idiom was the musical language of the late nineteenth century obliged to the primacy of expression, and he enriched it with his constant quest for new tonal effects. In his orchestral variations on the beloved Scottish folk song "Auld Lang Syne" he again displays his extraordinary gift for employing his absolutely inexhaustible inventive talent and fine feeling for harmony in order to endow simple song forms with subtle expressive variety.

CPO’s series featuring productions by the Dresden State Operetta has quickly gained renown with its discoveries of unknown works by Johann Strauss. When the same theater presented an extremely successful new production of Jacques Offenbach’s rarely staged La Périchole during the 2008 season, cpo immediately decided to produce this masterpiece in the studio. The State Operetta had commissioned the cabaret performer and author Peter Ensikat to supply a new translation, and it was with superb wit that he accomplished the task of updating the satirical double meanings in Offenbach’s libretto and the references to current events of the composer’s times without losing the charm of the original. In musical matters the production oriented itself by the three-act second version of this masterpiece set in faraway Lima; it was written for Vienna in 1874 and is filled to overflowing with original melodies. CPO included the numbers written especially for Vienna and its then operetta diva Marie Geistinger as special bonuses. The result: an all-around successful operetta production and spirited listening fun!

This disc convincingly shows Johann Mattheson's qualities as a composer of sacred music.

This is the third oratorio by Johann Mattheson which I have heard and reviewed in a fairly short space of time. For many years hardly any of his music was available on disc, but these three releases show a remarkable interest in Mattheson, who is best known for his writings on musical subjects.

He was educated as a singer, and also learnt to play the keyboard, the viola da gamba, violin, oboe, flute and lute. His first public appearances as a singer and organist were at the age of nine. The first stage of his career was as a singer in opera: he participated in performances at the Oper am Gänsemarkt. He also composed some operas. This phase lasted until 1705 when he accepted the post of secretary to the English ambassador in Hamburg. In the following years he became known as a translator and as a writer on music. He published several books which are still often referred to as they give much information about performance practice and the aesthetic ideals in Germany in his time.

In 1715 he became cantor at Hamburg Cathedral, a position he held until 1728 when he had to leave his job due to progressive deafness. In this capacity he composed oratorios for festivities like Christmas and Easter. They were mostly split into two parts, performed before and after the sermon. Only recently I reviewed a recording of the Christmas oratorio Das größte Kind. It dates from 1720 and is very different from this Christmas oratorio which is from 1715 and is one of the first pieces he composed for Hamburg Cathedral. Whereas in Das größte Kind not a single line from the Bible is used, the core of this oratorio is the text of Luke 2, 1-18, which is sung in the form of recitatives by the Evangelist. And in this oratorio the allegorical characters that feature in Das größte Kind are absent.

Musically these two works are also very different. The arias, written on a poetic text of a reflective nature, are less virtuosic and less operatic than in the oratorio of 1720. It is also remarkable that it contains several references to the past. The oratorio begins and ends with stanzas from the 16th-century hymn 'Vom Himmel hoch'. Mattheson doesn't use the well-known melody which Martin Luther wrote in 1539, but an older melody from 1535, after a then popular song. It is also quoted in the chorus 'Aus Zion bricht an der schöne Glanz Gottes'. The chorus of the angels, 'Ehre sei Gott', is composed in the stile antico, and the chorus of the shepherds, 'Lasset uns hingehen', is a fugue.

Only a couple of arias have a dacapo; sometimes a whole aria is repeated from beginning to end. One aria uses a biblical text: the angel singing 'Fürchtet euch nicht!' (Fear not!). But in fact it is more a kind of arioso than a real aria. It is followed by a 'real' aria for soprano, here given to the second soprano. In most arias the singer is accompanied by strings and basso continuo. In the bass aria 'Der Väter Wunsch' two horns are added, and the duet 'Sterbliche, besingt mit Freuden' contains a solo part for the violin. In the intimate aria 'Man darf dir einen kleinen Raum versagen' the soprano is supported by flute, viola and bc. This suits the content well, and the second half says: "Come into my heart for your comfort." In the chorales and the chorus 'Aus Zion bricht' Mattheson adds parts for two trumpets, two horns and timpani.

The other work on this disc is a setting of the Magnificat. That is to say: Mattheson keeps only two lines from the original biblical text (in German translation). The other verses are replaced by a poetic paraphrase, divided over recitatives and arias. The Magnificat is written for two choirs, each consisting of soprano, alto, tenor and bass. It begins with a Sinfonia for the whole orchestra which consists of flute, two trumpets, timpani, strings and basso continuo. A duet by the two sopranos follows, who are then joined by the tutti. In the first aria soprano I is supported by solo violin and bc. Next the bass has a recitative in which some elements in the text are singled out through extended coloraturas. He then sings an aria which begins with the text: "His arm scatters and exercises might". Mattheson defies expectation and refrains from using the trumpets here - only strings. The second soprano has a beautiful aria with flute and bc: "I suffer thirst, my soul hungers". After another recitative the piece ends with the other line from the biblical text Mattheson has kept: "As he has spoken to our fathers, to Abraham and his seed forever", written in the stile antico. The piece closes with a repeat of the opening section.

The Mattheson we meet in the Christmas oratorio on this disc is more 'conventional', as it were, than the Mattheson of Das größte Kind. The Magnificat a due cori, on the other hand, is anything but conventional. At least I can't remember having ever heard a Magnificat, in which the biblical text was largely replaced by a free poetic text. Because of the combination of these two compositions this disc deserves the attention of lovers of baroque vocal music. Like the other two recordings I have referred to it shows that Mattheson is more than a theorist and has to be taken seriously as a composer. New Grove lists quite a number of oratorios from his pen, and it is a shame that a considerable part of his oeuvre in this department is lost.

I was not completely happy with the previous two recordings, also directed by Michael Alexander Willens. In both cases there were some weak links in the cast. This disc is the best of the three, with all soloists giving fine accounts of themselves. The part of the Evangelist is given an immaculate performance by Andreas Post. The soprano parts are divided over the two sopranos. I don't know whether this was indicated by the composer, but it was certainly a good idea as the voices of Nicki Kennedy and Anna Crookes are sufficiently different to tell them apart. The other 'second voices' (alto, tenor and bass) are used as ripienists, who only sing in the tutti sections. These are generally well sung, although sometimes a slight vibrato creeps in, especially in the chorale settings which open and end the oratorio. The playing of the orchestra is also good, and the solo and obbligato parts are beautifully executed. I would like to mention especially Catherine Manson who plays the violin solos in both works. The only criticism is that some of the recitatives are slowish and should have been sung with more rhythmic freedom.

The booklet contains programme notes in German, English and French. In the part about the Magnificat we read: "the metre too changes from 4/4 to ? time". According to the French translation the question mark should be replaced by "3/4". The lyrics are also given with an English translation.

-- Johan van Veen, MusicWeb International

Like Telemann, Christoph Graupner (1683-1760) was a universal spirit and a highly original, independent composer, undeserving of his relative obscurity. This selection of his bass cantatas is free of baroque overloading, extreme figurations or colorations in the vocal part, and evidences his assimilation of musical innovations through to the end of his creative career. The bass baritone Klaus Mertens, holds a "prominent position among German singers in the field of early music." (klassik-heute).

Classical Music

Following the recent CPO releases of Johann Wilhelm Hertel’s opulent Christmas oratorio and passion cantata Der sterbende Heiland, the label now presents several other highly imaginative sacred works by this composer, most of them written for religious services at the Mecklenburg-Schwerin court. Along with the sinfonia from a cantata for the birthday celebration of the then Duke Friedrich, the program includes two motets, a peace composition, and two cantatas. All the choral works are closely associated with chorales and their special execution during the 18th c.

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

-- David Vickers, Gramophone [6/2012]

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


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


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


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


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

TELEMANN Violin Concertos: in G, TWV 51:G5; in Bb TWV 51:B2; in F, TWV 51:F3; in A, TWV 51:A3; in f#, TWV 51:fis1. Double Violin Concerto in e, TWV 52:e4. Concerto in A for 4 Violins, TWV 54:A1 • Elizabeth Wallfisch (vn, cond); The Wallfisch Band • CPO 777 550 (58:24)


The notes to Volume 5 of violinist and conductor Elizabeth Wallfisch’s collection of “Complete Violin Concertos” by Georg Philipp Telemann explain that all these works come from an early period in the composer’s production, in which he tried to break free from the Italian influence (thus, perhaps, the unvarying four-movement pattern of these works). Still, Vivaldi’s energy, channeled by typical Italian violin figuration, reappears in the Molto allegro of the Concerto in G Major, TWV 51:G5. Arcangelo Corelli’s sequences appear in the finale of that concerto, but the passages bounce with a helium-like buoyancy worlds removed from Corelli’s more stately elegance. The Concerto in Bb-Major, TWV 51:B2, begins with a slow movement that integrates the solo into the ensemble in a way that’s more Corellian than Vivaldian—but seems essentially Telemann’s own invention. The Concerto in F Major, TWV 51:F3, drapes a flowing violin solo over a bustling near-ostinato motive that maintains a lively demeanor throughout the movement. As the ensuing Allegro shows, Telemann’s idea of a concerto soloist, especially in the fast movements (and even in the slow ones) differs markedly from that of Vivaldi and Bach, allowing the solos to emerge from the texture as Corelli did in his Concerti grossi, op. 6, or Giuseppe Torelli did even in his solo concertos. That’s not to say that the works seem soporific from the violinistic point of view: The concerto’s finale, with its brusque, ruddy energy, never allows a listener’s attention to wander, even if the violinist isn’t spinning technical fantasies in the manner of Pietro Locatelli or Jean-Marie Leclair. In the Concerto in A Major, TWV 51: A3, Wallfisch and her ensemble effectively employ dynamic contrasts to create a bracing atmosphere. Here, as elsewhere, Wallfisch rises to a high soloistic profile when the music demands it—it’s clear from passages like these that she sinks the individual, when she does, for musical reasons rather than for any natural reticence or idea of soloistic integration. She and the ensemble play the chords in the brief, almost purely transitional, Adagio with attention-garnering freshness. In the finale, she once again strikes a more virtuosic attitude. The Concerto in F# Minor may be cast in an unusual key, but it’s hardly crabbed; and Wallfisch makes the double-stops of its slow movement sound at once mellifluous and commanding. Still, she’s able to lower her profile in the contrapuntal finale.


The collection includes two concertos for multiple soloists. The first of these, the Concerto in E Minor for Two Violins, TWV 52:E4, blends the soloists seamlessly in the first movement. In this work, violinist Evan Few joins Wallfisch. They don’t engage in the second movement in simple parallel motion, as Torelli might lead them in a similarly crafted work; but they do alternate passages in which they answer each other with others in which they run side-by-side. In the Concerto for Four Violins in A Major, TWV 54:A1, violinists Gabrielle Wunsch and Susan Carpenter Jacobs join Wallfisch. If, as Wolfgang Hirschmann’s notes point out, the textures hardly suggest a concerto for four soloists (with two of them melded into the orchestral texture), the resulting sonorities still seem rich and thick in this performance.


If every one of these concertos might strike listeners as a candidate for the standard repertoire, not one of them has yet entered it. Perhaps this release may start the process of admission. Like the earlier volumes in the series, this fifth volume deserves a heartfelt commendation.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

Walter Braunfels studied law and economics at the university of Munich until, after seeing a performance of Richard Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde, he decided to shift his focus to music. He went on to study with Theodor Leschetizky in Vienna before returning to Munich to study composition with Felix Mottl and Ludwig Thuille. His earliest success came with the opera Die Vogel. With the rise of the Nazis to power, however, he was dismissed from his positions and listed as being half-Jewish. Luckily, the war passed peacefully for his family, he returned to the public eye after the war was over. On this release, the Munchner Rundfunkorchester with violinist Henry Raudales, violist Norbert Merkl, and hornists Karl Reitmayer and Marc Ostertag present Braunfel’s String Quintet in F sharp minor in its version for String Orchestra, and his Sinfonia Concertante op. 68 for violin, viola, 2 horns, and string orchestra. These are world premiere recordings.

With CPO's Volume 15, their comprehensive project featuring organ works of the Northern German Baroque is now complete. On the last release, Friedhelm Flamme dedicates himself to the complete free organ works, that is, to the complete fugues and preludes, of Heinrich Scheidemann, a composer regarded as one of the co-founders of the Northern German organ school. Some of Scheidemann's chorale settings are also presented. Johann Adam Reincken succeeded Scheidemann as the organist at St. Catherine's Church in Hamburg after his mentor's death and is regarded as his most important pupil. Scheidermann's activity and influence on other organists and choirmasters brought him great respect in Hamburg's music world, and he is regarded as one of the most significant composers or organ works from the early seventeenth century. Here we would like to thank our interpreter Friedhelm Flamme for his renderings of Northern German marvels of organ sound. His recordings demonstrate how genuine technique and virtuosity can be combined with intellectual probing to produce sensational results.

Here is how our author describes Jensen’s work: "He towers above most of his colleagues, not only in wealth of invention, thematic coherence, and phenomenal orchestration, but especially in his mastery of nuance and his far-reaching control of the harmonic process. Hardly any of his contemporaries can match his masterly handling of modulation."

G. SCHUMANN Symphony in b. Serenade for Large Orchestra, Op. 34 • Christoph Gedschold, cond; Munich RO • CPO 777464 (73:32)


Having struck pay dirt with another of its exhumations, Georg Schumann—see review of his piano trios in 35: 5—CPO, label of the Long Lost Composers Society—here resurrects Schumann’s Symphony in B Minor and his Serenade, op. 34. Georg Alfred Schumann (1866–1952) is yet another composer that can be added to the list of blue-ribbon winners produced under Carl Reinecke’s tutelage at the Leipzig Conservatory, and the term “blue-ribbon” is not used metaphorically. In 1886, still a student at the conservatory, Schumann composed this B-Minor Symphony, and when he entered it in an orchestral composition competition two years later it took first prize out of 57 entries. It’s doubtful that the award so swelled his head that he actually appended the subtitle, “Prize-winning Symphony” to his score, but CPO does, treating it as if it were a cognomen like “Pathétique” or “The Inextinguishable.” “Oh, have you heard my Symphony in B Minor, the ‘Prize-winning?’”


Schumann’s symphony lends itself to easy description; it’s the Sixth Symphony Mendelssohn might have written had he lived. No disparagement is meant by that. Mendelssohn is the score’s model and its main influence; as much is admitted by the liner note. Even though Mendelssohn was long dead by the time Georg Schumann came to compose his symphony, it’s no surprise that the young composer would pay tribute to the deceased master. It’s both a reflection of Schumann’s youth and the conservative musical training and values fostered by Reinecke and the Leipzig Conservatory, not to mention the reverence accorded Mendelssohn in the very halls of the conservatory he had founded.


While there’s little originality in its pages, Schumann’s symphony is a beautifully written score; its four conventionally laid out movements are filled with tuneful melodies and a mastery of harmony, counterpoint, and orchestration that confirm it as a composition of consummate craft, if not necessarily one of great art. Certainly it can give pleasure and be appreciated by anyone who enjoys mid-19-century Romantic period orchestral works.


The Serenade for Large Orchestra, written around the turn of the century—it was premiered in 1902—is, unsurprisingly, more venturesome in style and musical vocabulary. It’s also unusual in that while more or less adhering to the formal layout of a serenade, the piece is actually a tone poem in five movements, each movement depicting a tableau in the tale of a rejected lover. But if this leads you to expect music of a forlorn, downcast mien, you’re in for a surprise. Schumann’s model now seems to be Richard Strauss’s tone poems. The score is filled with what Schumann describes as “opponents” and “ridiculers” who chirp and chatter away apparently scolding and mocking the lover for whatever he did that got him booted out of the boudoir. The musical effect is not dissimilar to, though nowhere near as barbed as the carping critics in, Strauss’s Ein Heldenleben . Schumann was probably familiar with Strauss’s tone poems, but neither his talent nor his ambition rose to Strauss’s levels of orchestral extravagance and exhibitionism.


Christoph Gedschold leads the Munich Radio Orchestra in convincing performances. I wouldn’t call either the symphony or the serenade a deathless masterpiece, but if you’ve grown a bit jaded listening to the same Romantic period symphonies and tone poems over and over again, here are two new additions to the recorded repertoire that will temporarily relieve your boredom. Recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins