WALTON: SYMPHONY NO 1 ANDRÈ P

This disc received the 1997 Gramophone award for "Best Orchestral Recording."

The great inner strength and glories of this music are revealed here by fabulously eloquent playing. This performance of the Fifth Symphony is the pinnacle of Previn’s Vaughan Williams cycle - a major achievement.

The major offering is the seraphic Fifth Symphony. This is a supreme work, packed with thematic references to RVW’s opera (or ‘Morality’ as he called it), Pilgrim’s Progress, which at the time the symphony was written was still very much work in progress.

The long lines of the first movement are most lovingly shaped by Previn. The strings sing and soar marvellously and the horns contribute burnished tone. It seems to me that everything about the account of this movement, pacing, dynamic control and contrast, and sympathetic playing is just ‘right’. Later, when the tempo picks up the strings are dexterous and light and the interjections of the wind and brass introduce a suitable note of foreboding, which will be familiar to anyone who knows Pilgrim. The brief climax is convincingly built before the return of the luminous material with which the movement began (Track 1, 7’58")

The scherzo is brilliantly poised and gossamer light. This music always seems to me to be suggestive of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. That’s certainly the case here. Then comes the glorious Romanza. A featherbed of hushed strings is the foundation for the beautiful melody, heard first on the cor anglais. In Pilgrim’s Progress (Act 1, scene 2) this theme movingly sets the words "He hath given me rest by His sorrow, and life by His death", sung by Pilgrim himself. This movement is, surely, one of the most moving creations in English music and Previn and the LSO do it full justice. The music, though beautiful, also has great inner strength and its glories are revealed here by some fabulously eloquent playing. If the performance of this symphony is a highlight of Previn’s cycle (which I believe it is) then the performance of this slow movement must be counted the pinnacle of the entire set. Here is just over twelve minutes of balm for the soul. Then the quietly radiant finale is a delight. This is RVW at his most outgoing and beneficent. The whole performance is a major achievement.

The Three Portraits from "The England of Elizabeth" consist of music extracted by Muir Matheson from a score that RVW had been invited to compose in 1955 by British Transport Films. The company had produced a short documentary about [16th century] Elizabethan England in order to promote tourism in Shakespeare country. Matheson’s three movement suite doesn’t contain vintage Vaughan Williams but it’s enjoyable and so far as I know there is no other recording.

The Tuba Concerto is a delightful piece, even if it too is not top-drawer RVW. As the notes point out the composer took a good deal of trouble to learn the capabilities of the tuba which he then exploited to the full. John Fletcher is a splendid soloist. He’s athletic in the outer movements and in the central Romanza he displays a poetic vein to the tuba which may surprise some listeners.

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

Maybe reviewers fuss too much about couplings, but in this case, with the Prelude a l'apresmidi dun faune these days extending the timings of virtually every Debussy issue, and with nearly two decades separating it from the later Jeux and La boite a joujoux, as well as it not being a ballet—oh, all right: it may have been conceived for the stage, and was choreographed (and vulgarized) by Nijinsky in 1912—surely a more enterprising choice in keeping with the theme would have been the contemporary and unjustly neglected ballet Khamma. With the standard of performance on offer here, that would indeed have formed a cherishable disc. As it happens, Tilson Thomas's Prelude is very fine: richly drawn and, compared to the recent versions from Boulez (DG) and Solti (Decca), traditionally drawn out, long-breathed and languorous. Overloud horns in the fourth bar would seem to forecast fog, not heat-haze; in other respects the balance (from EMI's Abbey Road Studio No. 1) is good, with integrated but focused solo strings, harps and antique cymbals.

"Toy-boxes are really towns in which the toys live like people" wrote Andre Helle who, in 1913, devised the scenario for La boite a joujoux (adding "or perhaps towns are just boxes in which people live like toys"). But Debussy made no attempt at meaningful symbolism; "something to amuse the children—nothing more" he said. In giving life to the wooden figures, and with its prominent role for piano, inevitably one's thoughts turn to Petrushka, far more dramatically effective, but hardly a children's story—well, not a child of 1913 anyway. Tilson Thomas is more artful than Torteher on Chandos: in the first tableau his doll dances her waltz with more look-at-me' allure and grace—Tortelier's rubato is comparatively (perhaps aptly) mechanical—and, after Punch has biffed the little soldier on the nose, an angrier captain pops his head out of the box. On the debit side, a wooden doll surely wouldn't pray as quietly as does the LSO clarinet in the following tableau after the battle (track 4, 4'45": the marking is only piano); the distant shepherd's piping in the third tableau is not really distant at all, and the flutes are too loud at the moment of embrace between the soldier and the doll at the end of the scene. Whilst I'm grumbling, Sony's notes don't include a synopsis—as entertainment, this music, unlike Jeux, is dependent on knowledge of the stage action (Chandos supply a detailed scenario). If forced to make a choice between the two, it would be Tilson Thomas; his is the more polished, confident and stylish account.

Perhaps Debussy was attracted to the idea of a children's ballet in 1913 to cleanse himself from the sins of Nijinsky's staging of his Prelude and Jeux (May 1912 and 1913 respectively). While enthusiastically welcoming Simon Rattle's Jeux (EMI), CH noted that the music's free-born invention was "sacrificed a little in favour of a richer romanticism". It could be argued, too, that Haitink (Philips) achieves his unrivalled clarity and delicacy at the expense of a degree of passion. I happen to feel that both, more successfully than Tilson Thomas, and in their quite different ways, achieve a special fantasy, and that contrejour lighting which Debussy was aiming at in his orchestration to oversimplify, it's a question of ensuring equal prominence for the woodwind. The LSO strings are unsteady in their opening four-bar chord (unusually played here as two plus two), but there's a line of accumulating energy from the main theme at fig. 51 (12'29") through to the climax at fig. 71 (16'23") which is less easy to feel in Rattle's and Haitink's accounts. With a slightly faster basic tempo this Jeux bears out Tilson Thomas's judgement, as he himself put it in GRAMOPHONE in February 1991, in knowing "what to hold on to and what to throw away".

-- Gramophone [11/1992]

Richard Hickox brought these two neglected works into the record catalogue to criticla acclaim. In an Editor's Choice review in 1996 - the year of its release - Gramophone stated: ''Elgar completed The Black Knight in 1893 and it provided him with his first big success. The text tells of a sinister, unnamed ''Prince of mighty sway'', whose appearance at the King's court during the feast of Pentecost has disastrous consequences. Elgar's score boasts much attractive invention, some of it strikingly eloquent and prescient of greater offerings to come. The choral writing is always effective, the orchestration already vivid and assured. Richard Hickox's performance has great bloom and spaciousness. Similarly, in the tuneful, vernally fresh Scenes from the Bavarian Highlands, Hickox and his colleagues respond with comendable spirit and pleasing polish. Typical of Chandos, the recording is bright and clear, tonally beyond reproach and with just the right balance between choir and orchestra.''

"Hickox's superior Elgarian credentials are immediately established in the glorious orchestral "Meditation", where his conducting demonstrates a noble flexibility, sensitivity to dynamic nuance and feeling for climax that are wholly beguiling. Equally, the Chandos production team see to it that the familiar Elgarian 'glow'-.-a component largely missing from Sir Charles Groves's rival Liverpool recording—is in generous supply; indeed, the engineering, sumptuous yet nicely detailed, comes close to the ideal. The LSO respond for their Associate Conductor with playing that is both warm-hearted and alert; as ever, the London Symphony Chorus contribute to proceedings in exemplary, splendidly disciplined fashion..."

- Gramophone, (From the original 1993 release.)

This re-release of The Light of Life by Sir Edward Elgar forms part of the new Hickox Legacy commemorative series on Chandos Records, leading up to (and continuing beyond) the fifth anniversary, in Nov 2013, of the conductor’s untimely death.

The Light of Life, an oratorio for soprano, contralto, tenor, and baritone soloists, full choir and orchestra, is a lesser-known but imposing work by the composer who brought us the mighty Dream of Gerontius. The story concerns the blind beggar whose sight Christ restored. The words are taken from the Gospel of St John, with additions by the Reverend Edward Capel Cure.

Elgar proposed to call this his first oratorio Lux Christi, but his publishers persuaded him to provide an English title: as the work was written with the 1896 Three Choirs Festival at Worchester in mind, the concern was that an Anglican cathedral festival might detect a Roman Catholic bias… Elgar complied, and the work was given the more suitable title by which we know it today.

Hickox and the London Symphony Orchestra and Chorus were joined on this recording by the soloists Judith Howarth, Linda Finnie, Arthur Davies, and John Shirley-Quirk.

- Chandos

Almost forty years after his first recording on Chandos, this unique limited-edition release gathers some of the best and most-awarded recordings on the label by one of the most prolific conductors of all time: Neeme Järvi. It highlights a 200+ discography that explores an astonishingly wide repertoire, with selections from the legendary complete series of Prokofiev’s symphonies and Tchaikovsky’s ballets to the groundbreaking discoveries of composers such as Atterberg or Suchon. It features nearly a dozen of the numerous orchestras with which he has collaborated, including the RSNO, Chicago Symphony, Orchestre de la Suisse Romande, and Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, all here celebrated at their best. Offered at a very special price and retaining the original covers, this product also includes very special notes by James Jolly, Editor in Chief of Gramophone, as well as exclusive photos and interviews with figures central to Järvi’s extraordinary musical life.

Past praise of previously released material included in this set:

Prokofiev: Symphony No 6, Waltzes Suite / Järvi, SNO

As in all of his Prokofiev symphony recordings–this was the first, by the way–Järvi really digs into the music. The engineering is as big and bold as the performances. This recording deserves classic status.

– ClassicsToday

Smetana: Má Vlast / Järvi, Detroit Symphony

Järvi and the Detroit Symphony Orchestra deliver an expansive reading of the complete work, and their feeling for the music's vivid imagery and richly Romantic expression is spot on.

– All Music Guide

Rachmaninov was, by his own account, Svetlanov's favorite composer. This new live recording of his Symphony No.2 from the Royal Festival Hall in 1993 with the Philharmonia Orchestra has never been issued before. The recording is in excellent stereo and Svetlanov was at his most exciting when caught live as opposed to working under studio conditions. This is a riveting performance.

This disc forms part of our ongoing Richard Hickox legacy series. Featured on this two-disc set are Elgar's the Dream of Gerontius, and two works by Parry: Blest Pair of Sirens and I was glad.

'Never was there a more complete triumph', wrote The Times after the premiere of Elijah by Mendelssohn. The performance, conducted by the composer at the 1846 Birmingham Music Festival, marked the beginning of the life of Elijah as one of the best-loved choral works in the repertoire, a status it still holds.

A grand oratorio in two parts, Elijah is very much composed in the spirit of Mendelssohn's baroque predecessors, combining the dramatic sweep of Handel with episodes of sublime meditation such as are found in Bach. It tells the story of the stern Old Testament prophet Elijah who preached against the idol worship of the Israelite people. Mendelssohn adapted the Biblical texts to produce intensely dramatic scenes depicting, for example, the resurrection of a dead youth, a contest of the gods, and Elijah's ascension into heaven on a fiery chariot.

This recording, made in April 1989, presents an all-star cast with Willard White in the title role and Rosalind Plowright, Linda Finnie, Arthur Davies, and Jeremy Budd singing the various supporting parts. Conducting the London Symphony Orchestra and Chorus is the late Richard Hickox, a musician who built an immense reputation for his masterful performances of choral music during his career. This release is a part of the ongoing Richard Hickox Legacy series.

Claudio Abbado's collection of Rossini overtures is flecked with moments of special illumination... With Abbado, the difficult to manage Il Turco in Italia is a rare treat, Tancredi, in Philip Gossett's new revision, is a tour deforce and the liquid-toned cellos at the start of Guillaume Tell are nothing short of miraculous. Abbado's Scala di seta, too, wings into life, sweet and silken, like feathered Mercury.

-- Gramophone [8/1979, reviewing the LP release of the Rossini overtures]

One of Parry's finest works, magnificently performed, and the best of the two available recordings of "The Sons of Light".

This was the first recording of "The Sons of Light". When I reviewed the second recording, by David Lloyd-Jones on Naxos, I found the Lyrita preferable, with more presence to the recording, more vital conducting and better choral diction. At that time there still seemed to be no prospect of the many Lyrita treasures ever seeing the light of day again. Now things are changing and this is the recording to get.

I referred in my review to the "coursing energy and phenomenal range of colour" of the work. It is, in its way, one of Vaughan Williams’s most impressive. You would certainly never imagine it was written to be sung by children – 1,150 of them at the first performance in 1951, with the accompaniment of the LPO under Boult. What worries me is that, every time I come to it, I find I don’t remember it. It’s not just that the themes don’t stay in my mind. As the work plays I don’t get any sense of recognition – "Ah, I remember that bit now". I hear it as a work I’ve never heard before. This is not a problem I have with Vaughan Williams generally.

Though I also had the LP containing "The Mystic Trumpeter" I never really listened to it often enough to say whether it sticks in my mind or not. I should think it unlikely. I find the same problem here as with Vaughan Williams’s "Willow-Wood", which was also on the Naxos/Lloyd-Jones disc. The composer has very skilfully set the poem line by line, with meaningful upward swoops for important words, pregnant key-changes and so on. He’s produced a nice wall-paper backing to a poem that is far more exciting when it’s simply read. But composition is about creation. It is a constructive process. If you start with an exhilarating poem and finish with a piece of music with about as much tension as a wet lettuce, is this to be defined as composition or decomposition? A work for Holst completists only. The performance is good enough, though Armstrong’s voice sometimes billows when it should soar. Holst seems to have a whopping Wagnerian soprano voice in mind and Armstrong, for all her virtues, was not exactly that. There is also a touch of opaqueness to some of her notes on the CD, though not on the LP.

The Parry is a far more memorable work. The composer had the good sense to choose a poem which provides a refrain. He does not repeat the same music every time but provides a new variation of it. The result is a sort of variation rondo form, combining continuous development with structural unity. Parry is at his finest and most eloquent throughout, from the lilting opening to the dancing energy of the later stanzas. There is a satisfying build-up which dies away to a touching close. There is also a lovely solo stanza, beautifully sung by Teresa Cahill. John Quinn noted in his review that her word underlay at the end of this stanza was at variance with the new edition he was using and wondered if the edition had been revised. I doubt it; I have a copy of the original edition and the textual underlay is different from what is sung there, too. Quite simply, the music as written calls unrealistically for a third lung, so I imagine Cahill herself changed the underlay in order to take a breath in the middle. Composers who aren’t singers miscalculate in this way more often than you’d expect – even Verdi did sometimes. Read John’s review, by the way; he has had the good fortune to sing in a rare performance of the work and his enthusiasm comes from within. But did the soprano at that performance cope with that long phrase in a single breath?

If Parry is at his best, so is Willcocks. It’s a thrilling performance from a great choral conductor. This is the only recording of the piece so far, but now it’s available again we hardly need another. Just for the record, I have always thought Cahill a little insecure in her opening phrase, but thereafter she is splendid. She has a lovely disc of R. Strauss and Rachmaninov to her credit and, unlike Sheila Armstrong in "The Mystic Trumpeter", her voice doesn’t billow, it soars.

Maybe in 1912 the Parry seemed old-fashioned. In 2007 it just seems timeless.

Outstanding recordings, as always with Lyrita, and notes by Ursula Vaughan Williams, Bernard Benoliel and Imogen Holst.

-- Christopher Howell, MusicWeb International

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

This second installment of Davis’s Sibelius cycle is purest gold. These performances command attention and will satisfy listeners for many years to come.

This second instalment of Davis’s new Sibelius cycle is purest gold. Hardly a phrase in these performances passes without new light being shed on it, and yet there is a strong feeling of spontaneity throughout. Davis’s readings are far from conventional; he often focuses on the darker sides of these symphonies, bringing out rarely heard depths in the Second and adding a fascinating new dimension to the Sixth. In both, he projects a strong sense of narrative and in the Second Symphony guides the argument toward the finale with overwhelming results – the appearance of the big tune gains immeasurably from a determined lack of sensationalism. Still more revealing is the finale of the Sixth: along with the expected ‘pastoral’ reflection he finds more than a hint of menace.

Davis is admirably served by the LSO. The strings respond to the detail of his interpretation with superb flexibility, and wind and brass groups are richly voiced. There is a wealth of magically observed orchestral detail, with the start of the slow movement of the Second Symphony – a polar-bear growl from the timpani and singing pizzicato – being especially memorable. These performances command attention and will satisfy listeners for many years to come.

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

-- Jan Smaczny, BBC Music Magazine

Ukrainian-born conductor Nicolai Malko studied music in St. Petersburg. He eventually began teaching at the Moscow and Leningrad Conservatories. Malko had a sporadic relationship with the BBC, and although he was never a staff conductor, he visited, taught, and conducted occasionally from 1929 until his passing in 1962. This 4-disc set contains some of Malko’s best conducting for BBC broadcast, including works by Tchaikovsky, Shostakovich, Haydn, Mussorgsky, Bruckner, and more.

"This well-transferred collection of BBC broadcasts has to be one of the most significant "historical" orchestral releases in recent years. There are of course various commercial discs with Malko; here, though, we have the Russian-born conductor captured in full flight.

The principle novelty is The Kodaly's one-act theater piece The Spinning Room, sung in English, and thoroughly enjoyable. The remainder of the set is purely orchestral.

Minor tape imperfections and playing fluffs notwithstanding, this is a musically enriching set and our experience of the conductor is duly extended." – Gramophone

Irene Scharrer, though perhaps the least remembered of the major Matthay pupils, was the earliest to record, beginning in 1909 at the age of 21. She excelled in such works as the Chopin preludes and in other brilliant pieces such as those by Scarlatti and Liszt, but the poise and refinement of her Chopin Nocturne reveal another side to her playing that is sadly underrepresented on disc. Her final recording, of the Litolff Scherzo, was also her most famous; in it's day it was a best seller and was responsible for putting that work on the musical map. This set reissues for the first time all Scharrer's electrical recordings and examples of every work she recorded in the acoustic era (pre 1925) that was not later remade as an electrical recording. For completeness, a discography of all her other acoustic recordings is also included.

Wilhelm Backhaus (1884–1969) left a 60-year recorded legacy which began in 1908, but though known particularly for Beethoven and Brahms in his later years, he performed a much wider repertoire before the war (as seen on the companion album which presents works by Chopin, Liszt and Schumann) and the four sonatas and two concertos included here are the totality of his early Beethoven output. These are nevertheless important recordings – the ‘Emperor’ concerto was only the second ever recording and the first recorded by the ‘electric’ process. The 4th became an instant classic and still stands high among recorded versions. The sonatas benefit from the spontaneity of youth – the didactic and gruff presentation which occasionally afflicts Backhaus’s later complete sonata cycles is little in evidence here. Three of the sonatas were issued with Bach ‘fillers’ and we have included these here to reveal yet another side of Backhaus’ musicianship.

-----

REVIEW:

Backhaus has a particularly fascinating way with the development of the G major’s opening Allegro. The sonatas are a bit of a mixed bag, some superior to his later recordings, others not.

– Gramophone

The Pathétique was recorded the day after the Emperor and is an example of his unmannered (other than tempo speeding in the finale), direct, largely uneffusive sonata playing. The Moonlight has rather too many punctuation points for comfort but is otherwise eloquently phrased with real brio in the finale. Les Adieux is perhaps the pick of these early sonata readings for its consistency of vision; sometimes in Op.101 he is inclined to go hell-for-leather. This disc ends with a particularly beguiling performance of Clarence Lucas’ arrangement from Bach’s Christmas Oratorio.

– MusicWeb International

Chandos presents its second LP re-release, the distinguished recording of Vaughan William’s original 1913 version of A London Symphony. This recording, featuring Richard Hickox and the London Symphony Orchestra, was met with universal critical acclaim upon initial release, being ‘destined for classic status’, according to Gramophone. This is the first and only recording of the original 1913 version of the symphony, containing about twenty minutes of music edited out of the familiar final version.

Thanks to his unusually strong affinity with Haydn and grasp of classical structures, Josef Krips proves a near-ideal conductor for the Fourth Symphony. Noting Mahler's repeated 'nicht eilen' ('don't rush') markings, Krips never hurries the music or indulges in unnecessary point-making, least of all in the radiant variations of the poco adagio third movement. The score unfolds with natural charm and warmth, lovingly communicated by the LSO's string section - led by Hugh Maguire, whose 'Death the Fiddler' is gauged at just the right level of grotesquery. With Suzanne Danco a pristine soloist in the finale, childlike but never childish, this is a beautifully-judged performance of a work which can too easily sound overstated, faux-naif or both.

Flight is a new album of works from British composer Oliver Davis (b.1972), composed for and in collaboration with violinist Kerenza Peacock. Flight captures the spirit of movement and energy present in many of Davis’s compositions. On disc, Kerenza performs alongside the London Symphony under conductor Paul Bateman. Since graduating Royal Academy of Music, London in 1994, Mr. Davis has composed and produced numerous albums, soundtracks, concertos and television scores while working with all the major London orchestras and the Royal Ballet, among other arts groups and organizations.

Classical Music

For this album, renowned classical guitarist Christoph Denoth joins with the London Symphony Orchestra under conductor Jesus Lopez Cobos to bring us a beautiful recording of compositions by Lorenzo Palomo (b. 1938), Joaquin Rodrigo (1901-1999), and Joquin Malats (1872-1912). The title track of the album, Palomo's Nocturnos de Andalucia, was composed for Pepe Romero. The full suite for guitar and orchestra was premiered in Berlin on January 27, 1996, with Romero performing. Christoph Denoth began his concert career at age 15. He regularly performs with chamber ensembles, such as the Nouvel Ensemble Contemporain and the Offenburger Streichtrio. He also performs solo concerts internationally. Joquin Malats' Serenata Espanola is arranged for this recording by Christoph Denoth and Jonathan Rathbone, and is the world premiere recording.

Puccini: La Boheme / Nagano, Te Kanawa, Leech, Ambrosian Singers, LSO. Composer: Giacomo Puccini, Performer: Alan Ewing, Richard Leech, Roberto Scandiuzzi, Carlos Chausson, Conductor: Kent Nagano Orchestra/Ensemble: London Symphony Orchestra, Ambrosian Singers, St. Clement Danes Nearly a century after it's premiere in Turin in February 1896 we have a fresh and vibrant new recording of this opera - one of the best known and probably most loved in Puccini's output. Nagano is well able to delineate Puccini's large musical canvas, sweeping the colors of the orchestral scoring and the glorious vocal lines onwards and upwards with an intoxicating, rumbustious swagger. If Te Kanawa had made a recording of this role around the time she sang it at Covent Garden in 1976 (with Pavarotti as Rodolfo) or in the subsequent revival in 1979, it would have made for a fascinating comparison. Amazingly, this is her first recording of Mim� and she has successfully managed to integrate her mature, lustrous sound with the poignant vulnerability and gradually ebbing strength of Mim� to remarkable effect. It is a hauntingly convincing performance. Leech provides an excellent shaping of Rodolfo with a rich, passionate tone. Titus (Marcello) and Gustafson (Musetta) are as finely characterized and vividly sung as one could hope and all the ensemble interplays, especially in Acts III and IV, have a fresh and dynamic intensity.

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

Calm music to help you while away a lazy day and be a little self-indulgent! Put your feet up, read your favorite book, open a box of chocolates and relax in the company of some of the world's greatest composers.

Kermit Poling writes music that is beautifully crafted, and immediately accessible. It is full of beautiful, melodic lines. The Guitar concerto, written for Guitarist Giovanni De Chiaro, who performs it here, is one of the greatest guitar concertos of the past 50 years. Named by Forum Magazine as one of the top ten faces to watch, Kermit Poling is celebrating his 22nd season as Music Director of the South Arkansas Symphony and his 27th season as Music Director of the Shreveport Metropolitan Ballet. He is in his 31st year as Associate Conductor of the Shreveport Symphony, an orchestra where he also was Concertmaster for over 27 years. He has produced the Shreveport Symphony’s broadcast series since 1987, having also produced radio programming for WBUR Boston and other public radio stations. He serves as General Manager of the Red River Radio public radio network at LSUS having been appointed to the position in 2006. In 2015 he became music director of the Marshall Symphony Orchestra in Texas. “The Romantic spirit lives, breathes, and flourishes in Kermit Poling.” (Fanfare Magazine)

There is no finer work in the medium than William Mathias' Harp Concerto, a stunning combination of characterful melody and magical handling of texture. The finale in particular must be counted as one of the most successful concerto movements in the 20th-century literature for any instrument, and this performance featuring the work's dedicatee Osian Ellis is just about perfect in every way. Why this piece isn't a concert staple remains a mystery. The other two works in their individual ways are also very satisfying and well worth hearing, if perhaps not quite as remarkable as the Harp Concerto.

Gervase de Peyer gives a fearless account of the Clarinet Concerto, a piece that vacillates between mellow lyricism and strident outbursts. The thematic material here isn't quite as memorable (to me at least) as that in the Harp and Third Piano Concertos. This latter lives squarely in the school of Bartók and Prokofiev, with a "night music" central movement and a finale that sounds like an amalgam of Bartók's Second, Barber, and Ginastera, albeit with a Welsh musical accent. Peter Katin is the excellent soloist, David Atherton conducts splendidly, and the recording is of the very highest quality. Outstanding and essential for anyone who enjoys really good 20th-century concertos.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Music for Ballet Lovers

MUSIC FOR BED TIME

GALLAGHER Diversions Overture. Berceuse. Sinfonietta for String Orchestra. Symphony in One Movement, “Threnody” • JoAnn Falletta, cond; London SO • NAXOS 8559652 (63:47)


For those who do not know about Jack Gallagher and the genesis of this recording, I refer you to the feature/interview elsewhere in this issue. The four works offered here are an overview of most the American composer’s career so far, from the 1977 Berceuse , written when he was 30 years old, to the Sinfonietta, completed in 2007 and revised the next year.


There probably is no better introduction to Gallagher’s beautifully crafted, accessible music than Diversions Overture , the opener for this CD. The concert overture seems to evoke the open prairies of the old West, complete with sunrise, sunset, and the excitement of discovery. I mean no irony; it is very much in the style of the American school created by Aaron Copland and Gallagher’s first composition teacher, Elie Siegmeister. If there is any irony, it is that Copland and Siegmeister were city boys from New York, and Gallagher was, too, before he took his university job in Wooster, Ohio. It doesn’t matter. In 1986, when Gallagher wrote this, he showed himself a natural heir to the style that his predecessors created. There is poignancy, explosive energy, good-natured humor (love those harp interjections in the middle section), and a warm-hearted directness that is tremendously engaging. This is a feel-good music in the very best sense of the expression.


On the other hand, the earlier Berceuse is so beautiful it could make you cry. How many times does a critic get to say that when reviewing a piece by a living composer? And it works because there is no sense that the composer is trying to make that happen. As is true of all of Gallagher’s music, there is unaffected honesty, the sense of being allowed to look into the composer’s heart. This gentle little lullaby, based on a piano work written for the daughter of friends, is one of Gallagher’s most played and recorded works. I have not heard it better done.


Originally a set of two pieces for orchestra, and expanded in to a full five-movement suite in 2007, the Sinfonietta is occasionally reminiscent of chamber-orchestra works by British composers like Moeran. At other times Britten’s more anxious string works are brought to mind. This is a different side of Gallagher’s art, emotionally more contained—though no less vigorous—and sparer in sound. Throughout there are surprises: an unexpected interval, an unusually timed rhythmic pattern, or a chord that deliciously refuses to resolve. In the Intrada, he uses the octatonic (diminished) scale to create a feeling of uneasy anticipation. In the Intermezzo he frames the melancholy, slowly shifting movement with a concertante opening and closing that is like murmured conversation against the sound of the night. The lively, slightly unsettling central Argentinean Malambo serves as a scherzo, but the bustle never seems joke-like. The Pavane is reminiscent of the Berceuse of 30 years previous, though now the innocence is bittersweet, and the gentleness a touch reserved. The pizzicato opening of the concluding Rondo Concertante brings us back to English pastoral, and the folk dance. Throughout there is a quality of understatement that is deceptive, as greater familiarity with the work reveals a deep complexity that isn’t immediately apparent; very like getting to know the composer, and very moving.


So is Gallagher’s Symphony in One Movement, subtitled “Threnody.” Written, in part, in memory of his mother, who died unexpectedly during its composition, this is understandably the darkest of the works here. The opening section may well remind you of Shostakovich’s wrenching adagios, and echoes of Bernard Hermann will come later, but the way this lament explodes into sudden anger in the second part is clearly Gallagher’s usual kinetic energy, agonized and held too long in check. It subsides eventually, played out in sinister snatches of manic solo violin, and racing piano chromatics, and the roaring of the brass. An eerie harp cadenza provides a release, but no sense of consolation, and the work dissolves into a fractured madness of spent rage and poignant remembrances before collapsing into despair.


As I have said before, this is a most welcome release of some absolutely fantastic music. It is not cutting-edge, nor self-consciously emotive as some neoromantic music is. It is richly and directly communicative. Naxos is to be commended for offering an opportunity to hear these four major works by a composer who richly deserves to be better known. JoAnn Falletta clearly loves these pieces, and brings them vividly to life. The LSO—need I say this?—plays with great conviction and energy. Only an occasional unevenness of ensemble in the swirling figurations of the Sinfonietta, or a moment or two of tentativeness in the brass, hint at any lack of familiarity. The sound is lovely, fully capturing the bloom of that great Abbey Road Studio One. Urgently recommended.


FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames


On evidence here, Jack Gallagher (b. 1947) is a composer of considerable ability. He wrote the notes to this release, not necessarily a good idea, since they read like a job resume and have about as much personality as stale bread, but the music happily says otherwise. The two big works, the Sinfonietta for strings and the Symphony "Threnody", have considerable substance. Among the five movements of the former work is an Argentine Malambo (think of the final dance of Ginastera's ballet Estancia), and a very good one too. The symphony manages the difficult task in a modern work of being turbulent and emotionally affecting without ever sounding petulant or gratuitously miserable. It's also very cogently structured in one movement, part of a long and distinguished lineage stretching back through Samuel Barber and Roy Harris to the Seventh Symphony of Sibelius.

Diversions Overture opens with some lovely modal harmonies in the woodwinds, and for a moment you might feel that you are listening to a lost work from the English pastoral school--not quite Vaughan Williams, but possibly E.J. Moeran or John Ireland. Gallagher's individuality soon reasserts itself, however, in the music's quick sections. The Berceuse is a slight but pretty little intermezzo.

As you may have guessed, this music is harmonically traditional and falls gratefully on the ear, but it never comes across as merely facile or clichéd. JoAnn Falletta and the London Symphony play it all with notable confidence and technical security, as we have every right to expect, and they've been well recorded at Abbey Road Studios. Gallagher is definitely worth getting to know.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com