If Kissin were a singer, he would definitely be on the opera stage. He produces a sound which is deep, weighty and brilliant, and projects the opening of Kreisleriana as if he were Jove himself venting his rage.

Yevgeny Kissin may look like a marionette, but if he were a singer, he would definitely be on the opera stage. He does not bash, but he produces a sound which is deep, weighty and brilliant. He projects the opening piece of Kreisleriana as if he were Jove himself venting his rage – not quite the passionate eccentricity Schumann had in mind, perhaps, though the contrasting quiet section is delicious. Nor does the second piece begin quite ‘inwardly’ as marked, though it is very considered, and while Kissin makes the first Intermezzo dazzling, he misses Schumann’s simple joy. From the second Intermezzo alone you know it is Kissin playing because of his characteristic – and deliberate – dragging of the left hand behind the right. His constant virtue is commitment to every single note he plays, which makes the final section of this extended piece, if much larger than life, incredibly compelling.

No pianist today (or yesterday) is more lavishly gifted than Kissin purely as a technician. For natural brilliance, perhaps, Martha Argerich compares, and it is her recording of Kreisleriana with which this new release invites comparison. Though Kissin’s recording is rich and spacious, it doesn’t make use of the microphone to produce all those half-lights and impalpable shadows that Argerich achieved. And Kissin hasn’t Argerich’s range of response to the picturesque – none of her secretive mood in the third piece, her impish glee in the fifth, nor above all, her sense of intimacy.

And yet, on its own, very ‘public’ terms, this issue is overwhelming, with a performance of the Bach-Busoni Chaconne which, for once, bears no sign of straining the medium.

Performance: 5 (out of 5), Sound: 5 (out of 5)

-- Adrian Jack, BBC Music Magazine

Agreat deal has been written about Michael Korstick’s interpretation of the Beethoven Sonatas. Extraordinary comments for the most part. Oehms Classics has released the complete edition in a luxurious presentation. 10 CDs in a fine cardboard package plus an extensive booklet including an essay by Attila Csampai and an interview with the artist conducted by Dr. Christoph Vratz. The recordings of this complete edition will not be issued on SACD; the individual editions retain their sonic luxury as is customary. - Oehms Classics

"...In the “Moonlight” Sonata Korstick’s approach also reminded me a bit of that taken by Solomon Cutner, the superb British pianist whose career was cut short by paralysis. Listen to the famed opening movement: Korstick gets exactly the same dead, almost ghostly rhythm that Solomon achieved back in the 1950s. I always liked that interpretation and always will. His performance of the “Waldstein” has almost the same driving energy as Gieseking’s famous 1939 recording, and I for one found his “Pathétique” the best I’ve heard since Schnabel. Most other pianists, in my estimation, get the opening of the first movement wrong by not emphasizing the dynamic contrasts as dramatically as they are written in the score, but Korstick does. And many of his slow movements are absolutely magical: Listen, for instance, to the Adagio of Sonata No. 3. Here, as in many others, the notes almost seem to float in space or on the surface of a pond, replicating (for me, anyway) an almost “altered state” within the composer’s psyche..." - Lynn René Bayley, Fanfare

Mieczyslav Weinberg (aka Moisey Vainberg) was in fact born and raised in Poland, but the vast majority of his compositional career was in the Soviet Union and he remained there for the rest of his life, in Minsk (now the capital of independent Belarus). He therefore comes well within the definition of 'Russian' for the purpose of this series and was certainly treated as such by the authorities. This and the preceding album (dda25105) which includes the first three sonatas, were originally released on the now defunct Olympia label but had a relativley short life and restricted distribution, and are still the only full recordings of these very fine works. This is music which though modern is written to comply with Soviet requirements and is thus also very approachable and melodic without ever being trite or unoriginal.

"Murray McLachlan is ideal in this repertoire, playing with both sensitivity and bravura. These former Olympia recordings are excellent, with excellent piano tone and there are first rate notes by the late Per Skans. Th[is] beautifully produced discs [is] thoroughly recommended."
-- The Classical Reviewer

Johann Wilhelm Hassler (1747-1822) gained his fame during the early 19th century as a worthy successor of the “Bach Tradition”. He is also the founder of the ‘Russian piano school’. Hassler’s works for piano are a long-standing part of the repertoire, and his Grand Gigue, Sonata Fantasia, and Fantasia in C minor are only a few of the works featured on this album. Anthony Spiri is not only a renowned soloist, he is also well-known for his lied accompaniment and his chamber music. He has studied with Erika Frieser, Hans Leygraf, Rudolf Firkusny, Erik Werba and Nikaolaus Harnoncourt.

Track Listing

1. Concerto for solo keyboard No. 3 in D minor, BWV 974 (BC L194) (after Alessandro Marcello): 2. Adagio
2. Sonatina No. 1, for piano in F sharp minor, Op. 67/1: 2. Largo
3. Piano Sonata in B minor, Op. 5 (TrV 103): 2. Adagio cantabile
4. Intermezzo for piano in A major, Op. 118/2
5. Song Without Words for piano No. 9 in E major, Op. 30/3
6. Song Without Words for piano No. 1 in E major, Op. 19b/1
7. Keyboard Sonata in A minor, H. 30, Wq. 49/1 (Württemberg Sonata No. 1): 2. Andante
8. English Suite, for keyboard No. 4 in F major, BWV 809 (BC L16): 4. Sarabande
9. Piano Sonata in E minor, Op. 7: 2. Andante molto
10. Pieces (2) for piano, Op. 57
11. Pieces (5) for piano, Op. 3 (TrV 105): No. 1, Andante
12. Intermezzo for piano in B flat minor, Op. 117/2
13. Ballade for piano in D minor ("Edward"), Op. 10/1
14. Intermezzo for piano in E flat major, Op. 117/1: Andante moderato

Artur Rubinstein. RCA RCD1-7156 [Ballades, with Scherzos]; 5613-2-RC [19 Nocturnes; 2 CDs]; 5614-2-RC [51 Mazurkas; 2CDs]; 5615-2 [7 Polonaises]; RCD1-5492 [14 Waltzes]

If there is one sure bet in the music of Chopin, it is Artur Rubinstein. His recordings of the composer’s music can be recommended without hesitation for their warmth, lyricism, and expressive point. Never over-interpreted, the music emerges with spontaneity and freshness in his accounts, always alive, always delightful and surprising. His fiery renditions of the Ballades and Polonaises combine drama and poetry in brilliant fashion, while his readings of the Nocturnes, Mazurkas, and Waltzes are notable for their Mediterranean color and unerring sense of mood. The sound of the 1960s stereo recordings for RCA may occasionally lack depth and seem slightly veiled, but it holds up well enough to convey unmistakably the tone and the touch that made Rubinstein one of the greatest pianists of all time. – Ted Libbey, author of The NPR Guide to Building a Classical CD Collection.

This is a DSD (Direct Stream Digital) recording

Evgeny Kissin is an interpreter who tends to shoot from the hip in the big Romantic masterpieces, resulting in many moments of genius rubbing up against baffling gaucheries. Fortunately, nearly everything comes together for Kissin in his late-1990s recordings of Schumann's Kreisleriana and C major Fantasy. The latter virtually explodes in the face of Kissin's ardent, volatile virtuosity, which dwells at opposite ends of the scale from Pollini's ironclad, symphonically inclined steadiness. Particularly noteworthy (all puns intended) are Kissin's spectacular leaps in the second-movement coda, where he cleanly delineates the outer voices most other pianists are merely content to hit accurately. The whiplash articulation and huge dynamic range Kissin brings to Kreisleriana's faster movements are cut from the same Dionysian cloth that shrouds the great Horowitz (Sony) and Argerich (DG) recordings. In short, the catalog claims no stromger coupling of these works, and with Kissin on top form, who can resist? [6/14/2004] --Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Fans of great violin playing naturally will want to hear this outstanding sampling of the art of the young Itzhak Perlman, most of which has never been released on CD. The violinist blasts through Paganini's Caprices Nos. 1, 16, and (of course) 24 with scrupulous technique and a total lack of inhibition. In the remaining works he's well partnered by pianist David Garvey, best known for his work with soprano Leontyne Price. Among the items represented are some truly uncommon gems, such as Ben-Haim's Berceuse Sfaradite, Hindemith's sweet little Sonata Op. 11 No. 1, and a smoking performance of Bazzini's La Ronde des lutins. Perlman gives a nod to the Baroque tradition (while remaining firmly within the modern school, obviously), with uncommonly exciting versions of Handel's Sonata Op. 1 No. 15 and Leclair's Op. 9 No. 3.

Rounding out the program are Bloch's Nigun (gorgeous tone here) and two Spanish favorites--Sarasate's Navarra Op. 33 and Kreisler's arrangement of Falla's Spanish Dance from La vida breve. The sonics balance the two players well considering Perlman's predilection for remaining front and center, though the violin sometimes sounds as if it's in a slightly different acoustic. Never mind. This is an outstanding tribute to one of the great names among violinists of any age, as well as a remarkably varied and interesting recital in its own right. As such, it's self-recommending.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

This selection is a DSD (Direct Stream Digital) recording.

Beethoven: Piano Sonatas Op. 57 "Appassionata" - Op. 27,2 "M

It is thought that Bach’s Suites for solo cello were written between 1717 and 1723, at about the same time as his works for solo violin, but no original manuscript remains. The cello suites are less flamboyant than the violin works, so present the greater challenge in communication; like Shakespeare’s texts, understanding depends on the subtlest of phrasing, rhythm and intonation.

The Dutch baroque cellist Anner Bylsma brings to this new set (he recorded the suites 11 years ago for RCA Seyon) a remarkable range of expression – vigorous, playful, impetuous and elegant, with extraordinarily fine articulation and elasticity of phrasing within the framework of each movement. Bylsma here records on one of Stradivarius’ great cellos, the ‘Servis’ dating from 1701, which is an extremely rare example of the ‘bassetti’, a large instrument 3 cm longer than the modern cello. For this recording, he uses a plain gut A string, with the three lower strings metal-overspun, which gives a particularly full, muscular sound, unusual for a baroque instrument.

-- Annette Morreau, BBC Music Magazine

Sitkovetsky, Yulian: Art of Yulian Sitkovetsky (The), Vol. 1

This organ CD is always on the Gothic Records best-sellers list, year after year. With both popular and unusual works in his program, Cathedral Organist Donald Dumler strikes just the right balance of musical choices.

Both the Chancel and Grand Gallery Organs were built by Kilgen, and are controlled by two new "twin" five-manual consoles. With 177 stops and over 9,000 pipes, the organ is both a grand musical statement, and a priceless antique whose sounds evoke the ideals of organ building in the 1920's. - Gothic Records

"Urgently eloquent." -- Gramophone [4/1987]

"Concentrated expressive intensity." -- Gramophone [11/1990]

"The Wanderer Fantasy is one of Schubert's most striking architectural achievements, and Perahia's intellectually rewarding account of it offers a vivid portrayal of the music's constantly evolving thematic structure." -- Gramophone [10/1995]

Whilst there have been many recordings of Bach's flute sonatas there has been less than total agreement as to what should (and should not) be included under that heading; Cologne Musica Antiqua with Wilbert Hazelzet (in a seven record set—DG 2742 007, 1/84), otherwise frontrunners, present BWVIO2O as a violin work. Our comparison is thus between artists, performances and instruments—Hünteler on Philips uses a single-key, period (reproduction) flute but Rampal is here shown holding a metal flute with 'all mod.' keywork, two very different instruments indeed.

Johnny Dankworth once described his own music as "couth, kempt and shevelled" and Rampal's performances, those of a consummate technician, strike me in the same way. Commendably, he avoids using his facility to indulge in fast tempos; where his striking rate is the higher, as in BWVI030/1II and BWVI032/11I, it is rather that Hünteler is leisurely—and occasionally the situation is inverted, e.g. in BWV l035/I. The baroque flute is an intimate, 'vocally' flexible instrument with a softer-edged attack than today's instrument, capable of much subtelty of nuance in volume, tone and pitch. Lines of separately attacked notes, particularly in BWVI032/1, III and BWV 1035/li, sound more typewriter-like from Rampal, but, strangely, it is Hünteler who respects the detaché markings at the opening of BWV 1035/Ill, not Rampal. The slow movements point the difference in approach (and instrument), Hünteler shaping the lines affectionately, leaning on the appoggiaturas and often scarcely breathing their resolutions, and Rampal more inclined to deliver his lines smoothly and more evenly—the beauty of purity. Rampal ventures some embellishment, notably in BWVI030/I1 and BWV1033/ III, and does so stylishly, but not in the famous Siciliana (BWV 1031/11)—where H Onteler's little flights of fancy are matched by Koopman's. I am not convinced by some of the interruptions in Rampal's lines, especially those which fragment the opening section of the unaccompanied Partita, BWV tO 13, surely not imposed by breathing 'strategy'. The completion of BWV1032/I is by Pinnock and seems as good as anyone else's. Though more reserved in his approach, Pinnock is as good a partner as Rampal could have wished for and he seems as much at home (though not always so balanced in sound) as he does with Stephen Preston (CRD CRDI0I4/5, 8/75), a set which, however, lacks BWV 1020.

In short, this is a thoughtful, cultured and pleasing set, well recorded and on the whole nicely balanced, but lacking in emotional involvement; the beauty of the music often seems admired rather than loved. Though the baroque flute is clearly the best horse for this course, this is the best-yet Set recorded on today's instrument—and very recommendable to those who prefer its sound.

-- J.D., Gramophone [ 12/1985]

Franck: Symphony in D Minor, M. 48, Symphonic Variations, M.

It's not just technical achievements that Rodarmer has to offer; he also makes a beautiful sound, at once lustrous and warm, and has an impressive sense of style.

Turning to what Sony bills as a world premiere transcription of the Goldberg Variations for guitar, I was incredulous. Maybe the Goldbergs could be cogently presented, I thought, on the lute, which is an instrument well suited to polyphonic writing, but how could its complex textures be clearly rendered on the essentially harmony-oriented guitar?

Fortunately, it turns out that Kurt Rodarmer (about whom Sony vouchsafes no biographical information) agrees with me. Combining the roles of arranger, performer, and producer, he has made his version for multiple guitars, anything from two to four of them, "recording each part separately and later mixing them down." Naturally there is a certain loss where the virtuoso conquest of technical demands is concerned, but this, as many may feel and as Glenn Gould used to argue passionately, is by no means necessarily a bad thing.

In any case, Rodarmer's dazzling finger skills still make a tremendous impression, especially by virtue of the combination of speed, steadiness, and clarity with which he dispatches such variations as No. 23, with its rapid parallel thirds and whirlwind cadential scales. In variations like Nos. 6, 21, and 24 Bach's canonic writing emerges with unusual lucidity. Nor are such technical achievements all Rodarmer has to offer. He makes a beautiful sound, at once lustrous and warm, that is vividly captured by the very clear sound. He realizes textures like those of the two-manual Variation 20 with a sure feeling for their drama. And he has an impressive sense of style, which is given expression by some elegant long grace notes in the Aria itself and in the 9/8 meter of Variation 24, and also by some well-conceived changes of articulation in the repeats.

These latter, by the way, are omitted in the Aria but included in the variations, with only a few exceptions. The decision to omit the first of the two repeats in Variation 16 but to include the second one seems perverse, since this variation is designed in the form of a French overture, with stately introduction and dancelike fast section, and that is a genre where the tradition of repeating the introduction was surely invariable in Bach's time.

Aside from one or two such minutiae, and from a slightly mechanical feeling in the treatment of the minor-mode Variation 25 (where, perhaps symptomatically, both repeats are ignored), I found both the conception of Rodarmer's arrangement—a refreshing blend of artistic respect with absence of pomposity—highly persuasive. Like Bach on the accordion, I wouldn't want to hear Goldberg on the guitar every time. But I am glad to have both in my collection to indulge in as an occasional and artistically worthwhile treat.

-- Bernard Jacobson, FANFARE [5/1998]

This is surely the greatest, certainly the richest, of all Murray Perahia's many and exemplary recordings.

This Chopin recital represents Murray Perahia's return to the Sony studios after a two-year absence due to serious injury. So may I start by saying that this is surely the greatest, certainly the richest, of all his many and exemplary recordings. Once again his performances are graced with rare and classic attributes and now, to supreme clarity, tonal elegance and musical perspective, he adds an even stronger poetic profile, a surer sense of the inflammatory rhetoric underpinning Chopin's surface equilibrium. In other words the vividness and immediacy are as remarkable as the finesse. And here, arguably, is the oblique but telling influence of Horowitz who Perahia befriended during the last months of the old wizard's life. Listen to the First Ballade's second subject and you will hear rubato like the most subtle pulsing or musical breathing. Try the opening of the Third and you will note an ideal poise and lucidity, something rarely achieved in these outwardly insouciant pages.

Then there is the glorious Fourth and final Ballade in a performance as subtly gauged as any on record. Here Perahia achieves a fluidity of line and impetus that never compromise or sacrifice his sense of superfine and exploratory detail; and what other pianist possesses such an acute aural and rhythmic sensitivity? From Perahia the waltzes are marvels of liquid brilliance and urbanity. You would have to return to 1950 and Lipatti (EMI, 7/89) for a comparable quality though, frankly, even he hardly achieved such an enchanting lilt or buoyancy, such a beguiling sense of light and shade. In the mazurkas, too, Perahia's tiptoe delicacy and tonal irridescence (particularly in Op. 7 No. 3 in F minor) make the music dance and spin as if caught in some magical hallucinatory haze.

Finally, two contrasting Etudes, and whether in ardent lyricism (Op. 10 No. 3) or shot-from-guns virtuosity (Op. 10 No. 4) Perahia's playing is sheer perfection. The recording beautifully captures his instantly recognizable, glistening sound world as well as the immense grandeur of his conceptions. Rarely in my experience has such a truly transcendental pianism (he has every tint and colour of the spectrum at his fingertips) and such innate poetry been so unforgettably combined. Welcome back Murray Perahia; you have been sorely missed.

-- Bryce Morrison, Gramophone [12/1994]

Like Ravel's piano originals that he subsequently orchestrated, Rachmaninov's two-piano version of Symphonic Dances sounds like a note-exact replica of the later symphonic score. Essentially the only thing missing is the chance to marvel at the composer's remarkable powers of orchestration. However, in compensation you get the enhanced clarity of textures that allows for fine delineation of all the intricate inner voices, especially as realized by Emanuel Ax and Yefim Bronfman, who beautifully elucidate Rachmaninov's winding, winsome, and wondrous tunes. However, if you're like me, you can't help but pine for the missing percussion in the outer movements, and no piano ever could imitate the snarling brass crescendos that open movement II. Nonetheless, Ax and Bronfman make this Symphonic Dances a refreshingly alternative listening experience--as do Martha Argerich and Nelson Freire, though their faster speeds and self-conscious bravura make their performance more of a virtuoso showcase, something that also can be said for their Suite No. 2 with its breathless Waltz. Ax and Bronfman at least allow you to clearly discern all the notes in their noticeably less-excited rendition. But no need to worry: you get just as caught up in their potent projection of Rachmaninov's lush harmonies.


Later, Ax and Bronfman conjure up a startlingly vivid impression of church bells in the joyfully clangorous finale of the disc-ending Suite No. 1. All of this is faithfully and powerfully rendered by Sony's recording, which leaves adequate space around the instruments to make a cohesive, three-dimensional sound image (though not enough for satisfyingly deep bass). In sum, a gorgeously played and generous program (it would have filled two LPs in the '70s). Recommended for Rachmaninov lovers and piano fans alike.
--Victor Carr Jr., ClassicsToday.com

Clara Haskil's Salzburg recital from August 8, 1957, is familiar from the pianist's Philips studio versions--but these live traversals are preferable. Haskil's sonority, for one, benefits from a closer mike pickup that conveys the full measure of the Romanian pianist's gutsy, musicianly playing. Her angular passagework in the wonderful Mozart C major Sonata K. 330 is more controlled than in her Philips recording. Likewise, the biting, woodwind-like left hand lines in the Scherzo of Beethoven's E-flat major Sonata Op. 31 No. 3 swagger with more conviction. Oddly, she omits the first movement repeat honored in her two studio versions. There's also a greater degree of risk as well as accuracy in this live Schubert B-flat Sonata--a performance filled to the brim with touching lyricism and tensile strength. A tip of the hat, then, to Music and Arts for making this material available in very good mono broadcast sound. Haskil may have had a saintly reputation, but as a pianist she was one tough cookie! --Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Mozart: Piano Concertos Nos. 21 & 26

In Honor of Rudolf Kolisch (1896-1978) is Music & Arts' six-disc tribute to a key figure in twentieth century music whose name is invoked in a number of historic contexts, yet whose actual recorded work remains almost unknown. Rudolf Kolisch was the leader of the Kolisch String Quartet, the "house band" at Arnold Schoenberg's ISCM conferences in the 1920s and a group that formed the first line of defense in the avant-garde musical movements in Europe before the rise of Nazi Germany. As the Kolisch also recorded a fair amount of standard quartet literature, this set is limited mainly to this and Kolisch's other groups' recordings of the Second Vienna School and Bart k, although the Kolisch Quartet recording of the Schubert Octet in F, performed with additional guest players, from the Library of Congress in 1940 is included as a bonus. The program opens with an extraordinary and audacious series of private recordings, made on a United Artists soundstage in Hollywood under the aegis of Alfred Newman, of all four of Schoenberg's string quartets dating from late 1936 and early 1937. The Fourth Quartet hadn't even premiered yet - this would occur the day after recording, on January 8, 1937, at UCLA. from this same session are included some of Schoenberg's spoken comments, in which he offers thanks to Newman and United Artists, and even addresses the "friends" of his music that belong to the future, presumably not yet born. These recordings have been issued a number of times, despite their "p-r-r-rivate" (pace Schoenberg) provenance, and unfortunately little can be done to rescue them from their noisy and somewhat dim audio perspective. They have never been dealt with, in a sonic sense, with more proficiency than here. From an interpretive standpoint, this Kolisch performance of the String Quartet No. 1 in D minor remains one of the best made, simply because the group has a thorough understanding of the Viennese milieu in which the quartet was conceived and does not try to make it sound more "modern" than it is. from there we jump ahead to 1950 and the Pro Arte Quartet of the University of Wisconsin, a pre-existing group that Kolisch took over in 1945 and retrofitted for performances of contemporary quartet literature. We get a second shot at the Third Schoenberg quartet with this group, and the performance is tighter and even more intense than that with the Kolisch Quartet, not to mention heard in excellent mono sound taken from a Dial LP. for some reason the sonic perspective is a little more cramped in Berg's Lyric Suite and some of the other Dials, but it is still astonishing to realize that in hearing the Berg you are listening to a performance led by the same person who premiered this now standard work at a 1927 ISCM Festival. The tempi observed here are faster than in most performances - indeed, the pace of the Allegro misterioso is downright dizzying. The three discs that follow are an embarrassment of riches: Kolisch heard in a rare context as soloist, playing the Schoenberg concerto at the University of Wisconsin, the Bart k Sonata for solo violin, and Schoenberg's Fantasy, Op. 47, with his colleague Gunnar Johansen. With the Pro Arte Quartet, further Dial recordings are heard - the Webern Opp. 5 and 9, Schoenberg's early String Quartet in D of 1897, and Bart k's Fifth Quartet Apart from the purely historical value of the recordings, and their highly variable sound quality, what is Kolisch like? In his time, all of this music was unfamiliar, and in the twenty-first century nearly all of it is familiar - in a sense some of it has reached a point of perfection that approaches fossilization. Kolisch certainly isn't looking to make his Schoenberg or Bart k warm and cozy, and he doesn't have a problem dealing with it as "difficult" music; after hearing his Bart K Sonata for solo violin, some might wonder if Kolisch is not making it a bit more diff.

Walter Gieseking (1933-1947)

FRENCH MUSIC FOR HARP