There was no composer whose works were more frequently passed off as Mozart's than Eberl. Even more surprising is the documented fact that there was no protest from Mozart against the use of his name on Eberl's compositions. Eberl, a friend and (probably) a student of the great man, did mind but was too timid to take action until after Mozart had died. Finally, he published a notice in a widely read German newspaper claiming ownership of a number of his compositions attributed to Mozart. Despite this, his works still continued to be published under Mozart's name. This in itself is a telling indication as to the contemporary opinion of the quality of Eberl's works, but critical reviews of his day also spoke of works published under his own name reaching the heights of Haydn's, Mozart's and the young Beethoven's. -- Seven world premieres are presented in this collection of Eberl's solo piano output by forte-pianist John Khouri, whose previous recordings of Clementi, Hummel, Cramer, and others on Music & Arts have been acclaimed for authenticity and artistic excellence.

Preis der Deutschen Schallplattenkritik, 1/93; Gramophone nomination as best recording of the year in its class, 1993. '...monumental (and genuinely virtuoso) reading of Alkan's Concerto for Solo Piano. This truly phenomenal recording will surely remain a yardstick in Alkan performances for many years to come...' -Michael Stewart in Gramophone '...the outstanding pianistic event of the year...Marc-André Hamelin [is] a superman of the piano and a titanic presence in concert.' -Adrian Corleonis in Fanfare '...blazing conviction and superhuman virtuosity. One of the great piano recordings of the century...' -Donald Manildi in American Record Guide

Adolf Busch had been one of the highly celebrated violinists and greatly admired exponents of the Beethoven concerto in Europe before WWII, but had never recorded it prior to his emigration to the U.S. in 1939. After a period of relative neglect, he was invited by American Columbia to record the work in 1942, but the outcome was not a success. Critic Tully Potter tells the story in his linernotes: "On 7 and 8 February [1942] the Busch brothers ... collaborated with the Philharmonic-Symphony, in the Beethoven Concerto, Adolf airing a new set of cadenzas written the previous year. ...the Saturday-evening interpretation gained mixed notices, the best being very good, the worst very bad; and perhaps the violinist was not at his best. Two critics indicated that he seemed nervous--hardly surprising, when it was his first performance for years of a work he had been accustomed to play almost every week. He was certainly in excellent form on the Sunday afternoon: the CBS network broadcast was taken down by at least two home recordists and one of those documents is here released for the first time. It makes an admirable corrective to the official Columbia recording, made next day at Liederkranz Hall. Unfortunately the production was delegated to the talented but inexperienced Goddard Lieberson. Busch was palpably under strain in the opening movement, his nervousness exacerbated by Lieberson's insisting he stand on a raised platform, which made him feel remote from his brother and the orchestra and brought him too close to the microphone. The resulting poor balance caused him to reject the recording and it was not issued until after his death. The live performance is everything one might expect." The fillers include a Bach concerto (in a minor) never commercially recorded by Busch.

Pianist Jeffrey LaDeur’s artistry has been hailed by Gramophone Magazine for its “…understatement, simplicity and ‘old school’ chord playing where every note sings out with meaning.” Critic Henry Fogel wrote “…LaDeur’s ability to spin out a cantabile line makes one forget that the piano is actually a percussive instrument.” LaDeur is the founder and artistic director of the San Francisco International Piano Festival, and president of the American Liszt Society, San Francisco Bay Area Chapter. An Artist’s Journey is his debut recording on Music & Arts.

Immense and tragic, unerringly and compellingly directed in immediate sound.

Since one of the most familiar features of Furtwängler's discography is the pitiful lack of a commercially recorded Bruckner symphony cycle we all know what we're getting here. But given the competing performances that exist some separating of versions might be in order. I will note at the outset that this M & A set goes into the question of the editions used very briefly, with very different conclusions to those reached hitherto, especially by John Ardoin. This mainly concerns the apparent use by the conductor of Gutmann’s editions in Nos. 4 and 7 and the 1932 Orel in No.8. It includes Ardoin’s extensive and informed commentary on the performances. One further point – the transfers have been effected by Aaron Z Snyder; more on that at the end.

The Fourth is the Stuttgart performance given by the Vienna Philharmonic in October 1951. As a performance it is possibly superior to the in any case less well-recorded one in Munich, which was given a week later. The Munich performance is not quite as responsive or as well played even though the immensity of the transitions will compel interest either pro or contra. The audience is rather restive especially, of course, in the slow movement in Munich. But in Stuttgart the audience was quieter and the orchestral sound stage was more immediate; the performance therefore blazes with an extra intensity. Ardoin noted that Furtwängler habitually used the Schalk-Löwe edition but as noted above M & A identify it as the 1888 Gutmann.

The Fifth is one of four wartime broadcasts in this set. It was given in Berlin in October 1942. Others find the actual sound splendid but I find it rather occluded for its time. The heft of it however still registers powerfully. And the performance is better performed and one should probably concede better conducted than the post-war Vienna Philharmonic performance from Salzburg. In Berlin things are tougher hewn and powerfully impressive; the audience coughs and horn fluffs are here insignificant. This performance has been out on Music and Arts before - CD538 - and on the DG set 427 7742/427 7732. You may possibly have come across it on Bella Musica BMF 967.

Unfortunately the first movement of the Sixth has not survived. In any case this wasn't a work which the conductor found especially congenial. He first performed it shortly before this broadcast - November 1943 - and then never returned to it. This is the only survivor and the more to be valued for that reason but obviously recommendation is limited by reason of its being a torso. It's been out on Tahra.

The Seventh is not the one from Rome in 1951 with the touring Berlin orchestra, which I have always preferred, but the (to me) strangely uncommitted Cairo performance of the same year. Neither however is preferable to the best version, the 1949 Berlin - a towering achievement, memorably expressive. Still, the Seventh, here held to be the 1884-85 Gutmann was the only one of the symphonies of which Furtwängler left behind a commercially recorded trace – the Adagio was recorded – and his way with it, even in Cairo is to be savoured.

No.8 is with the Vienna Philharmonic, recorded there in October 1944, ten days after the final recording in this set, that of the Ninth Symphony. The Eighth was on Toshiba CE28 5757-8, also on DG (Japan) POCC2346 and probably most usually for the majority Music and Arts CD764 and Tahra FURT 1084-1087. This one has a blazing authority and commitment; the adagio is immense and tragic, unerringly and compellingly directed. The sound is immediate. He uses the modified Haas edition here whereas later in Vienna he used the Schalk; M & A going further to identify the Haas modifications as being the use of the 1892 Lenau edition “for guidance”.

The Ninth was on DG (Japan) POCC 2347 and DG 445 418-2GX2 and Music and Arts CD 730. It's slightly less well recorded than the Eighth but it is the only surviving example of his way with this symphony. We know from his own testimony that a performance in St Florian three days later than this preserved one was of great significance to him. But this one could scarcely have been less fine, so intense and searing is the resultant performance. This is probably the most consistently impressive and utterly necessary of all Furtwängler Bruckner recordings. Furthermore the edition used is noted as being the 1932 Orel.

So finally that word about Aaron Z Snyder’s digital remastering. He uses what’s called the “revolutionary new harmonic balancing” technique but beyond that M & A aren’t saying what this actually means. I’m assuming however that it’s analogous to something like Andrew Rose’s XR technique. I’m going to reserve critical judgement until the full mechanics are made known but what I can say, prima facie, is the amazing sense of immediacy generated by the transfer process, whether by rebalancing, or whatever. I played these transfers against some of the ones mentioned above, also against Andromeda’s, and the results were pretty startling in brilliance, definition and bass response.

-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International

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Furtwängler’s connection with Bruckner’s Ninth Symphony went back to the dawn of his career: in fact, it was the featured work on the program with which he made his symphonic conducting debut in 1907, at the age of 20. But only one of Furtwängler’s performances of the Ninth was ever recorded, and this is it – a soulful reading with the Berlin Philharmonic from a concert given on October 7, 1944, in the dark final year of World War II. Furtwängler was always, in his interpretations of Bruckner at least, closer to the Apocalypse than the Elysian Fields, and that is certainly the case here. There is an urgency to the account that is palpable through all three of the symphony’s movements, and particularly apparent in the scherzo, which comes across with a ferocity that is not wildness, but something far more chilling. The intensity of vision in Furtwängler’s conception of the first movement is equally remarkable, as is the groping, almost glacial way he conducts the Adagio, probing the limits of sustainable sound. Apart from some ragged ensemble in the brass and occasional fits of poor intonation in the winds, the playing is on a very high level, and the sound, while veiled, conveys both the tonal beauty of the Philharmonic’s realization and the charged atmosphere generated by the performance. – Ted Libbey, author of The NPR Guide to Building a Classical CD Collection.

The average birthdate of these eight composers is 1900, and the youngest of them, Oscar Peterson, is sixty-seven. So this is a nostalgic look at the music of black composers; there is no Anthony Davis here. William Grant Still's music has flowed into the cracks of our national musical heritage; I call a composer great who has created a single masterpiece, and Still's “A Black Pierrot“ from his Songs of Separation is as haunting a song as Schubert or Wolf ever composed. Three Visions are evocative miniature tone poems and the Seven Traceries are impressionist sound paintings.

Howard Swanson's The Cuckoo is a light, gay scherzo and trio, with the bird cuckooing away in one hand while the other flies all over the keyboard. Robert Nathaniel Dett (1882-1943) studied with Nadia Boulanger, earned degrees from Oberlin and Eastman, conducted choral societies, performed before presidents, and was awarded honorary doctorates from Harvard and Oberlin. His In the Bottoms depicts “black man's slave camps at the river's edge.“ The five pieces go from somber contemplation to a gay dance. Ulysses Kay's three Inventions are brief, formal pieces. John Wesley Work, Jr., studied at Columbia and Yale and became chairman of the music department at Fisk University. His Big Bunch of Roses starts with a Negro folk tune and develops in a colorful and relaxed way. Oscar Peterson's The Gentle Waltz is languorous and jazzy and sweet, Duke Ellington's Come Sunday is a soft, flowing hymn with a touch of the blues; both pieces are played in arrangements by jazz pianist Denny McErlain.

Samuel Coleridge-Taylor was another master composer; every work of his I have heard is at least worthy, often inspired. His suite of three waltzes—Allegro molto, Andante, Allegro assai— stands out even among all this lovely music. It has warmth, individuality, melodic charm, and a sturdy, upright dignity without a hint of pomposity that is his own special character. Monica Gaylord studied at Juilliard and Eastman and has played throughout the United States and Canada. She has a beautiful touch for these winning works, and when it comes to Coleridge-Taylor's heroic final coda, she peals forth bronze thunder; if this were a live recital, it would bring down the house. The pianist also writes the notes, in which she shows herself to be a knowledgeable historian and a fine writer. A fine recording rounds out the assets of this lovely disc.

-- James H. North, FANFARE [3/1993]

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This winsome collection of 20th-century music was warmly welcomed by James H. North on its original release in 1992 (Fanfare 16:4), and I can only second his endorsement. He called it "nostalgic," and I guess he's right—although to my mind, that's not so much because of the age of the composers (as he pointed out, their "average birthdate" is 1900), but rather because they all aim (at least, in the works here) for a soft-edged accessibility that went increasingly out of fashion as the century wore on. Indeed, even Dett's musical evocation of slave camps abstains from brutality. Fortunately, Monica Gaylord has the subtlety of touch this predominantly gentle recital requires. While she's perfectly capable of ringing out the splashy final numbers of the Coleridge-Taylor and Dett sets, she's at her most impressive extracting the delicate impressionistic colors from Still's Traceries or coaxing out the rhythms of Ellington's meditative Come Sunday. Fine sound and erudite notes by the pianist only add to the attractions. A first-rate reissue.

-- Peter J. Rabinowitz, FANFARE [3/1999]

Women’s vocal ensemble Vajra Voices presents their debut recording, O Eterne Deus- Music of Hildegard von Bingen. Also known as Saint Hildegard, Hildegard von Bingen (1098-1179) was a German Benedictine abbess, composer, philosopher, writer, Christian mystic, and polymath. She composed some of the earliest liturgical dramas and morality plays. Vajra Voices is directed by Karen R. Clark, and the ensemble is joined by multi-instrumentalist Shira Kammen for this recording. “One cannot help but be deeply moved by the exquisite rendition of Hildegard’s music by Vajra Voices. Their singing brings Hildegard into the room with all her passion and power and the Spirit arrives too along with angels eager to wake us up.” (Matthew Fox)

Includes work(s) by various composers. Soloists: Jody Karin Applebaum, Marc-André Hamelin.

Marc-André Hamelin performs 'Rèminiscences de Norma', 'La Leggierezza', 'Un Sospiro', 'Polonaise No. 2 in E', 'Bénédiction de Dieu dans Solitude' & 'Rèminiscences de Don Juan' (after Mozart).

Hans Knappertsbusch conducts Studio & Live Performances (192

"...impeccably, splendidly remastered...I love these recordings and what they represent. And I want everyone I know and everyone I don't know to hear them." - Lloyd Schwartz, University of Massachusetts Boston, New York Arts online journal, for NPR.

This set is offered at a special price: 12 discs for the cost of 10.

REVIEWS:
Fanfare (1-2/00, p.217) - "...for anyone interested in the music of Brahms, the conducting of Furtwängler, the history of performance traditions, or simply in hearing great music being made in a uniquely personal way, this set is essential."

Following on the success of their widely acclaimed Music & Arts release J.S. Bach: Sonatas for Flute and Harpsichord, Stephen Schultz (Baroque flute) and Jory Vinikour (harpsichord) are joined by Alexa Haynes-Pilon (viola da gamba), and Mindy Rosenfeld (Baroque flute) in superlative performances of François Couperin’s four Concerts Royaux; works which stand among the pinnacles of the Golden Age that was French music during the reign of Louis XIV. This state-of-the-art recording was produced and engineered at Skywalker Sound by two-time Grammy Award winner Jack Vad (2012, 2021).

REVIEWS:

This set is essential for its simple grace. The annotator, Gonzalo Ruiz (an excellent oboist who doesn’t play here), explains King Louis XIV’s restrictions on sharing this royal court music until he was old. He allowed it to be published just before he died, but Couperin had composed it many years earlier. There are four suites. Couperin didn’t specify the instrumentation for this chamber music beyond some general suggestions. Ensembles make their own arrangements to suit their personnel and strengths...Anything with theorbo or archlute usually pleases me with a satisfying low-bass crunch. But there is nothing wrong with this more sparing arrangement or performance by the Schultz team.

Some of the pieces are played entirely by Vinikour as harpsichord solos, or with his harpsichord starting them and other players soon joining in. Haynes-Pilon sometimes plays the bass line with her viol, sometimes up in the violin range. The two wooden flutes have beautifully pure tone, and Schultz and Rosenfeld phrase gracefully with them. The pieces sound splendid here as elegant and lightweight entertainment, of the kind that would soothe a stressed king and please his guests. It’s not too fast (like Musica ad Rhenum’s) or too stern (like Rousset’s), but just right.

-- American Record Guide

Edwin Fischer: The Legacy of a Great Pianist (1943-1953)