Valerie Tryon, one of the most sensitive and poetic pianists around, turns in another lovely contribution to Naxos' ongoing cycle of Liszt's complete piano music. Her pianism is quite a different kettle of fish from Oxana Yablonskaya's, whose own Schubert/Liszt disc marks Volume 5 in this series. At first hearing, I felt Tryon's control of Liszt's textural complexities to be slightly soft-grained and lacking the last degree of suppleness and tonal solidity we expect in this repertoire. By the second and third listening, I began to appreciate the pianist's canny dynamic planning, as witness the unfolding drama of "Der Jäger" and "Die böse Farbe" from Die Schöne Müllerin, or the subtle, rippling accompaniment that gently envelops "Wohin?".


Similarly, Tryon bathes "Die Forelle"'s arpeggios in beautifully tinted shadings and takes trouble to clarify Liszt's pedal markings. Listen to how Tryon deftly keeps "Ave Maria"'s melody afloat against an accompaniment that keeps changing its textural stripes. Yes, "Erlkönig" can use a bit more clarity and cumulative power, with less heavy octaves in the left hand. But that's just one track out of 19, and what's good is quite wonderful. If you've a hankering for Schubert songs served up for solo piano as only Liszt could, you'll certainly warm to this disc.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

HARTY: Irish Symphony (An) / With the Wild Geese / In Irelan

This selection includes an explanatory commentary of this opera, written
by Thomson Smillie and narrated by David Timson.

Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519) is our prototype for the universal genius: painter, architect, military engineer, and anatomist, his far-ranging scientific curiosity placed him centuries ahead of his time. On this CD, the world of da Vinci is given a musical perspective with a carefully chosen selection of pieces by the finest composers of the day. Inside, Hugh Griffith provides explanatory notes on his life and musical environment. As soon as we discover that the nature of sound was something that absorbed the interest of Leonardo da Vinci for many years, and that, according to Vasari, he 'sang divinely, improvising his own accompaniment on the lira', we begin to realize the importance of music in his life. Exploring the music written during his lifetime forms a fascinating backdrop to his paintings, several of which are illustrated within the booklet.

Mompou: Piano Music, Vol. 4

This selection includes a commentary on and analysis of this work,
written by Thomson Smillie and performed by David Timson.

Art & Music: Bruegel - Music of His Time

SCHNITTKE: Piano Quintet / String Trio / Stille Musik

This selection contains narration about Bach's life and works by Jeremy
Siepmann, John Shrapnel and others. It contains a 106 page companion booklet with the complete spoken text, a detailed historical background and graded listening plan.

SOUSA Music for Wind Band, Vol. 7 • Keith Brion, cond; Martin Hinton (cnt); 1 Royal Artillery Band • NAXOS 8.559247 (57: 26)


America First. The Presidential Polonaise. The Rifle Regiment. Congress Hall. El capitan. Intaglio Waltzes. Golden Jubilee. The Bride Elect. Sounds from the Revivals. 1 The Charlatan. Sheridan’s Ride. The Black Horse Troop. The Naval Reserve


Keith Brion, one of the foremost authorities on the music of Sousa, has been building an extensive library of Sousa’s music for Naxos since 1998, beginning with the first release (“On Stage,” Fanfare 22:1), which first appeared on marco polo in 1997. This is planned to be the most comprehensive collection of Sousa assembled, currently consisting of these seven volumes of wind band music, in addition to an earlier three volumes of Sousa for orchestra. In terms of wind music alone, Brion has so far released 86 works: marches, suites, waltzes, and novelty numbers. The current largest collection is by the Detroit Concert Band, which recorded all 116 published marches on five CDs (Walking Frog 300). The U.S. Marine Band’s set of four CDs, available as “A Box of Sousa” on Altissimo 5571, has 56 works. In terms of performances, the Marine Band is probably my favorite, with the Naxos set a very close second. Both compare favorably with the best single-disc releases, including Junkin with the Dallas Wind Symphony (Reference Recordings 94), Fennell with the Eastman Wind Ensemble (Mercury 434300), Foley with the American Main Street Band (EMI 54130), and Keith Brion with his own New Sousa Band (Delos 102 or Walking Frog 217), which includes seven restorations of recordings conducted by Sousa himself. The relative completeness of the Detroit release recommends it, but the performances often lapse into the routine. Besides, the Naxos set will eventually include 20 additional marches and dozens of concert works.


This seventh volume is as good a place to start as any, as it continues the series pattern of presenting a satisfying mix of the familiar ( El capitan and The Black Horse Troop ) and the unfamiliar ( Congress Hall and The Naval Reserve ), of marches derived from Sousa’s stage works ( El capitan , again, The Bride Elect and The Charlatan ), of Strauss-inspired waltzes ( Intaglio Waltzes ), of historical scenarios à la Wellington’s Victory , complete with battle sounds, racing horse hooves, and cheering ( Sheridan’s Ride ), and novelty numbers like Sounds from the Revivals , an arrangement of late-19th-century hymns which may have been written for Offenbach’s orchestra when they appeared at the Philadelphia Centennial Exposition.


James Camner has reviewed three of the earlier releases in the series for Fanfare : Vol. 2, 25:5, Vol. 3, 27:3, and Vol. 4, 28:1. In each he has pointed out the essential rightness of Brion’s performances. I concur. They are not so fast as to make them overbearing or cheaply exciting, but rather taken at a comfortable march tempo that allows the music to unfold naturally. The Royal Artillery Band, formed before the American colonies declared independence, plays with style and verve. Those who have learned their Sousa with (or in) larger concert bands may initially be surprised by the somewhat smaller sound of this ensemble, but in fact, this is the instrumentation that Sousa used in his own touring band. Sousa-lovers will want the whole series. The uncertain risk little, at Naxos’s bargain prices, by diving in here.


FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames

SCHUMAN Symphonies: No. 3; No. 5. Judith • Gerard Schwarz, cond; Seattle S • NAXOS 8.559317 (67:45)


In the early days of the LP, reviewing was a snap. The Schwann Catalog was the size of a pamphlet, a reviewer therefore had a pretty easy time assessing all that was out there, and in harmony with the Consumer Reports function of a magazine like Fanfare , could easily make his or her case for the best possible (implying definitive) recording of this or that work. Now it’s a whole different universe, with firms like Naxos attempting to record the entire and ever-expanding world’s worth of music—possibly even music not yet composed. To continue my reviewer’s lament for a moment: those of us who review only recordings work at a disadvantage. Critics who deal with live concerts know that a performance is merely a single event in an ever-evolving landscape. On the other hand, those of us who basically deal with recordings often fall into the trap of regarding their first-acquired recording of a particular work as a legitimate template. A live concert is a fleeting affair; a recording will be listened to over and over again until the gray matter of the auditor’s brain is thoroughly grooved and ossified. Add to this that my first exposure to the symphonies of William Schuman were from Leonard Bernstein’s 1960s landmark LP of Schuman’s Third and Fifth Symphonies, which inspired me to acquire his subsequent 1985 recording of Schuman’s Third Symphony paired with Harris’s Third Symphony on DG (similarly impressive, and captured in more impactful sound), one can easily understand my initial reaction when I found this Naxos release in my mailbox: “Why is Schwarz even bothering?”


Listening to this offering, my first reaction was to focus on what Schwarz missed—the snare drum rim shots at the end of the finale were not loud enough and the overlaying brass and woodwinds didn’t provide enough crescendo; his wind solos in the second movement were not as well characterized as Bernstein’s in both his recordings; his opening of the first movement was not nearly as bard-like as Bernstein’s, etc. etc. A good deal of this has to do with recording technology. That earliest 1960 Columbia Masterworks Bernstein offering was, by modern standards, dynamically compressed, making the score’s pianissimos louder, and leading to a more effectively detailed registration of the symphony’s opening bars. In the realm of recorded music, if it’s louder, it’s de facto more impressive. In Bernstein’s subsequent DG go around, the dynamics were more realistic and the resulting sound is closer to Schwarz’s. Nonetheless, Schwarz’s opening still sounds comparably weak and undercharacterized. But what follows does not.


Schwarz takes the symphony’s structure more literally than Bernstein. Its two movements are given Baroque sub designations—Passacaglia and Fugue; Chorale and Toccata. Schwarz is Baroqueishly strict in terms of tempo, and revealingly evenhanded in his instrumental balances; Bernstein is more episodic, projecting the Amerikanisch hymnody underlying so much of Schuman’s thought.


In sum, Bernstein’s two recordings are indeed hard acts to follow, but Schwarz does so with distinction. He achieves, throughout, stunning brass balances. He infuses the music with a wonderfully heady forward momentum, and his more modern recording conveys the loud low percussion with lease-breaking power. Over the years of his tenure as music director of the Seattle Symphony, Schwarz (himself a trumpet virtuoso, which accounts for his expertise in conducting his brass) has forged a fine ensemble able to rise to any and all musical demands.


In Schuman’s “Symphony for Strings,” also designated as the Fifth Symphony, Schwarz again comes head to head with Bernstein. In this piece Schuman proves that he can fugue with the best of them. Bernstein’s 1966 Columbia Masterworks (now Sony) recording is a typically in-your-face effort—viscerally exciting indeed. Here, Schwarz’s recording is more realistically balanced. When all is said and done, Bernstein emerges as the winner. His recording conveys more internal detail than is found here. That aside, Schwarz’s offering, in terms of tempos, is almost identical to Bernstein’s. Here the palm, alas, goes to Bernstein, but Schwarz’s effort is a commendable reading of the score.


The ringer is the last piece— Judith, a choreographic poem for orchestra—commissioned in 1949 by the Louisville Orchestra, which asked Martha Graham to create a ballet dealing with the beautiful Jewish widow who liberated her people from Nebuchadnezzar’s army by seducing and killing its general, Holofernes. The result was a typically Technicolor score from Schuman. Here it is realized most vividly.


As to which recording will I go to when I want to hear Schuman’s Third Symphony—well, it’s a toss up, and that says a lot.


FANFARE: William Zagorski

In his 1996 Fourth Symphony, Philip Glass reworked six out of the ten tracks from David Bowie's Heroes album into orchestral pieces that function both as independent entities and integral symphonic components. It isn't necessary to know the original Heroes in order to appreciate how Glass manipulates the essentially simplistic melodic content by way of striking harmonic juxtapositions, rhythmic vamps laced with unpredictable accents from the percussion, and orchestration that's cannily varied yet clear enough to take down by dictation. In The Light, Glass also generates considerable textural and dramatic mileage from the simple, undulating motives heard at the work's outset. What prevents the signature repetitive modules from running into the ground or sticking in the mud is the composer's unerring sense of when to introduce a new idea, slightly alter a chord voicing, or vary the instrumentation.

One main difference between Marin Alsop's interpretations and Dennis Russell Davies' premiere recordings on Nonesuch concerns engineering philosophy. On Naxos, the Bournemouth Symphony emerges in a more natural, concert-hall perspective as you might perceive from a dead-center orchestra seat in a vibrant but not overly resonant hall. The Russell Davies recordings reproduce their orchestras (the American Composers Orchestra in the Symphony, the Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra in The Light) at relatively close, detail -oriented range and pack a more immediate punch. For example, in Alsop's slightly faster rendition of the symphony's fourth-movement Sons of the Silent Age, the antiphonal cross-rhythms midway through the work converge to more fluid and blended effect. By contrast, Russell Davies' slower, more heavily accented version beefs up the harps and low brass. And while Alsop begins V 2 Schneider (the final movement) at a bright clip that ever-so-slightly slows down within the first minute, Russell Davies is rock steady. Although I lean toward Russell Davies' recordings (which result from the composer's production team), Alsop's equally world-class interpretations unquestionably convey their own character and validity.

--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Born in 1938 into a musical family, John Harbison studied at Harvard, and with Roger Sessions at Princeton. He is one of America's most accomplished musicians, with four symphonies, three operas and a Pulitzer Prize-winning cantata to his credit.

Includes work(s) by Naoko Akutagawa. Ensemble: Group for Contemporary Music. Conductor: Harvey Sollberger.

Classical Music

For this Volume 1 of the songs of Charles Ives (the series will include all of the songs he completed), Naxos employed the services of no less than 13 singers, a potentially risky decision that happily turns out very well. All of the soloists, who represent all voice-parts (including countertenor in two selections), are first-rate singers, many quite young with blooming opera careers, each with a clear and compelling competence in how to sing songs. And these aren't just any songs, but some of the most fascinating, engaging, joyful, humorous, nostalgic, sentimental, artfully written songs in the repertoire.

The programming scheme is to present the songs alphabetically--not only is this handy if you want to find a particular song, but it also happens to create a very satisfying recital with an entertaining mix of styles, texts, and themes. This volume begins perfectly with "1, 2, 3" and ends (also appropriately!) with "Cradle Song", and in between we get such gems as "Aeschylus and Sophocles" (1922), "At Sea" (1921), "At the River" (1916), "Autumn" (1907), "The Cage" (1906), "The Camp Meeting" (1912), "Charlie Rutlage" (1920), "The Circus Band" (1894), and the lovely parlor-songs "Because of You" (1898) and "Because Thou Art" (1901).

Some singers are better than others at articulating the words--particularly important here since the texts are provided only online--and naturally, with this variety of voices, timbres, and techniques, some will appeal more than others to a given listener. For instance, I found Lielle Berman just a bit too "church-soprano-ish" in "The Collection", likewise baritone Patrick Carfizzi's southern accent for "Charlie Rutlage" is somewhat forced and inauthentic, and while it's well sung, to me, countertenor Ian Howell's "A Christmas Carol" is just too precious for its own good. But these are minor, personal quibbles in what overall is an extraordinarily satisfying, consummately entertaining, and consistently thoughtful collaboration that's always respectful of both the serious and humorous, the simple and the complex, the overtly melodious and abstract aspects of these often challenging songs.

Highlights are many, but include all four of bass David Pittsinger's songs, mezzo Leah Wool's "Ann Street", tenor Kenneth Tarver's "At Parting", baritone Robert Gardner's "The Cage" and "The Circus Band", soprano Sara Jakubiak's "Abide with Me" and "At the River"--and I could go on. You might think that listening to 29 Ives songs at one sitting would be a bit much, but thanks to these terrific singers, their fine accompanists, and to Ives' wildly, wonderfully varied, expert songwriting, it's just a pure pleasure--and you'll even find yourself smiling many times throughout.

There have been several excellent, highly recommended Ives song compilations issued on disc, including a complete edition from the early-1990s on Albany, a single-disc program on Decca (type Q3671 in Search Reviews), and two first-rate collections (61 songs all together) from Gerald Finley on Hyperion (for reviews, type Q9249 and Q11530), and this one promises to join them as an essential addition to every Ives and American song listening library. On to Volume 2!

--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

In his early career as a composer, Berlin-born Stefan Wolpe espoused social causes and wrote songs on revolutionary themes.

This is rather terrific. It is an example of the transcriber's art as high as Bach's and a whole CD of it, full of Italian concertos we never hear, as well as ones we do. What we have here is a kind of super-abundant version of Bach's arrangements of Vivaldi and others. These are 'concertos after' and reflect the transcriber's skill who has turned them into organ sonatas with some degree of freedom. There was a Vol. 1 of transcribed (Albinoni, Gregori, Telemann, Gentili) and original works which I've not yet heard. Walther was a year older than his distant relative, J. S. Bach. The two became friends when Bach spent time in Weimar. Walther was acknowledged as one of the great organists of his day, playing not only his own compositions but, as Vol. 2 shows, collecting those of other composers.

Born in Erfurt he received tuition from Johann Bernhard Bach. Organist at his home city's St Thomas he formed a friendship, based on much travelling, with Werckmeister, studied with Pachelbel's son, Wilhelm Hieronymus, then studied philosophy back at Erfurt university. As often happens to musical philosophy students in Germany around this time, he finally devoted his energy to music from thenceforth, and was organist at St. Paul's Weimar from 1707, joining the court orchestra by invitation of Duke Wilhelm Ernst, around the time Bach was leaving after the death of his wife.

Walther's own chorale preludes are represented, and 'Mache, dich' with its tinkling effects rather like some of Krebs's later efforts, recall one of the occasional stops no longer used in the organ vocabulary. They're very fine pieces and deserve to be better known. Walther's own modesty and low profile as a composer is the key to their comparative neglect. The transcriptions are suitable for the Italian or Italianate originals, the Vivaldi similar to Bach's and the Manzia unexpected in its use of flute stops. The Blamr is gentle, not quite bland, an attractive composition by someone hardly known to us. The Taglietti is full of panache and the three Torelli concerti that close the volume full of a graciousness one doesn't expect. The single movement d minor is full of questing for the home key, reflective and quasi-churchy. The B flat blows this away in brilliant ceremonials. The a minor is full of bright gothic gloom.

A really enjoyable disc, a true addition, beautifully recorded and played.

-- Simon Jenner, MusicWeb International

Many things come to mind when considering the great flowering of the arts during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, among them the plays and poetry of Shakespeare and the magnificent sacred choral music masterpieces of composers such as Byrd and Tallis. But there also was abundant activity on the secular music front, most notably the incomparable lute songs of John Dowland and the lovely works for viol consort and for solo voice and viols by Byrd, Mundy, Farrant, Parsons, and many others. This recording, featuring the clear, expressive voice of Catherine King and the well-tuned, perfectly matched instruments of the Rose Consort of Viols, is devoted to the latter two categories--including theatrical pieces, dances, and some of the most melancholy--and beautiful--songs in the repertoire. King's rich mezzo is an ideal complement to the warm, reedy viols, and the instrumental playing must receive special mention for its sensitivity and tasteful style. This recording will provide an appealing introduction to one of the most significant and accessible genres of early music; and it will satisfy confirmed fans as well. --David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

This is a very easy call: marvelous music, exceptional performances, top-notch engineering--it all adds up to the strongest possible recommendation. Pilgrims is a lovely, lyrical work for string orchestra that makes an attractive disc-opener, but the two concertos are the standout items. Both are written as suites of brief movements, avoiding traditional forms. They actually resemble song-cycles more than anything else, and given Rorem's acknowledged mastery of that medium, not to mention the relationship between the concerto idea and vocal music generally, it's obvious that he is in his element.


The Flute Concerto is a world premiere. It was composed in 2002 for Jeffrey Khaner, and it's an exceptionally fine piece, beautiful to listen to and (evidently) quite grateful to play. We seem to be enjoying a bonanza of fine modern flute concertos, what with this work and the numerous pieces written for Sharon Bezaly as well. At about 30 minutes, it's a substantial piece, and Rorem's orchestration is beautifully calculated to give the soloist maximum opporunity for display, without the orchestra ever sounding excessively inhibited. Best of all, the thematic material really is memorable.

The same virtues characterize the Violin Concerto (1985), which was recorded previously by Bernstein and Gidon Kremer. Frankly, Philippe Quint plays better, with more attractive tone, and Serebrier offers a very fine account of the accompaniment. Rorem's orchestral music doesn't get the same amount of attention as his songs, but like the French music that he so admires, it allies expressive directness to a keen sense of instrumental color and superior craftsmanship. As a supplement to Serebrier's superb recording of the composer's three symphonies for Naxos, this disc is a must for collectors. [5/19/2006]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

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

This recording is billed as the first totally, absolutely complete release of The Golden Age, Shostakovich's best ballet, in that you get all of the repeats, some of which are omitted in the only competing, more or less complete version on Chandos (with Rozhdestvensky). Having all of the repeats isn't necessarily a good thing, but with Serebrier and his Scottish players we are in good hands. Rozhdestvensky's recording also is very good, but his Swedish orchestra isn't any better than the Royal Scottish National--and it also suffers from some minor moments of scruffy rhythm in the strings. More to the point, the Russian conductor's reading isn't entirely free of the heaviness that often characterizes his conducting.


You can hear this quite clearly in comparing the two interpretations of the splendid Can-can in Act 3, one of the largest and most powerful extended numbers in the ballet. Serebrier actually is the slower of the two, by a few unimportant seconds, but his rhythms cut through more crisply, and the orchestra's brighter-toned brass and more vivid percussion make the music sparkle as it should--and terrify when it must (as at the end of this very piece). Otherwise there's little to choose between the two, but much else to enjoy here, including that splendidly romantic Dance of the Diva (a big Adagio) as well as all of the other numbers familiar from the popular suite extracted by the composer at the time of the original production. Terrific sound and a very reasonable price make this the clear version of choice.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

An excellent reissue of music by a much underrated composer. The sound is excellent … be slightly brighter than the original. A must for all fans of film music and this composer.

The eldest of ten children, Alfred Newman was a musical prodigy, starting piano lessons at the age of five, and studying composition with Rubin Goldmark, who also taught Aaron Copland and George Gershwin. By 1920 he was working as a Broadway conductor, and, in 1930, he accompanied Irving Berlin to Hollywood. There he took private lessons from Arnold Schoenberg and wrote his first film score for Goldwyn’s adaptation of Elmer Rice’s 1929 Pulitzer Prize winning play Street Scene in 1931. Seventeen years later Kurt Weill made an opera from the same play.

Writing in a late romantic idiom, but with a more American voice than either Max Steiner or Erich Wolfgang Korngold, Newman has never received the wider attention of so many of his contemporaries. Writing in 1996, Fred Steiner lamented, “Some of the films (he) scored then don’t have drawing power today. Wuthering Heights (1939) may be OK, but whoever heard of Beloved Enemy (1936)? It’s not like the popularity of The Adventures of Robin Hood (Korngold) or Gone With the Wind (Steiner).” Between 1930 and 1970 Newman wrote music for over two hundred films and acted as musical director for many more. He won nine Oscars and, between 1938 and 1957; he was nominated in twenty consecutive years.

P C Wren’s Beau Geste is a desert drama concering three brothers (played by Gary Cooper, Robert Preston and Ray Milland) and their undying devotion to each other and family. Newman’s score is rumbustious, humourous and tender by turns. The Prelude has a swagger before turning to orientalism, and after some delicate work the March Out is a defiant cue for the Foreign Legion. After the brilliantly scored Battle, with the addition of a female chorus, death spreads through the doomed Fort Zinderneuf in A Viking’s Funeral – the most heart-felt music in the Suite. The Finale is reserved before giving way to a quick reprise of the March for the End Cast.

In his biography of Charles Laughton (Charles Laughton: An Intimate Biography, Doubleday New York, 1976 and W H Allen, London, 1976), Charles Higham wrote that The Hunchback of Notre Dame was “… an operetta without songs, accompanied by … Newman’s crashing chords and celestial choirs, suggesting menace or exaltation.“ Fred Steiner said, “It’s a truly remarkable score, especially in regard to the character of the themes. The great thing about the themes for the hunchback, Esmeralda, the young soldier she falls for and the poet Gringoire is that they all fit their personalities so well … it’s real music.” This is a big, colourful, score; motifs come and go and are developed throughout the film. There’s more orientalism in Esmeralda’s Dance, and, very surprisingly, in Thank You Mother of God, there’s a solo for flute which is uncannily like the flute solo in the final movement of Gustav Holst’s Beni Mora! Celestial choirs, strange, Bernard Herrmann-like timbres from the low woodwinds, delicate string writing and almost Parry-like choral odes abound in this score. Please note that I make these comments not because the music sounds like Holst, Herrmann or Parry but to give some idea of the wide range of the music.

All About Eve doesn’t have a big score and this little suite is tantalizing: a jaunty opening titles sequence, followed by various incarnations of Eve’s theme from tender and innocent to its climactic appearance reflecting envy, lust and the intoxicating allure of the theatre limelight.

The musical performances are assured and if the Moscow Symphony Orchestra doesn’t quite have the verve of the RKO Studio Orchestra they play the music for all it is worth; textures are clear and the various sections acquit themselves well. William Stromberg directs strong, forthright performances with great attention to every detail of the scores.

One thing the notes don’t tell us is exactly what restoration and reconstruction work John Morgan and William Stromberg had to do for these scores. This is odd as the booklet for the original release (Marco Polo 8.223750 – 1997) contains a note by John Morgan, and it is most interesting. He tells us that the All About Eve Suite uses the original orchestrations by Eddie Powell. Stromberg created the Beau Geste suite from “Scantily annotated conductor books” and Morgan himself consulted “… the surviving scores and the piano/conductor short scores …” to prepare The Hunchback of Notre Dame Suite, and orchestrated about half of the music to “… bring it more in line with what is heard on the film soundtrack … I was also able to restore many bars and one entire cue dropped from the finished film.” Also missing from the Naxos booklet are almost all the photographs and Bill Whitaker’s excellent notes have been slightly truncated. The original issue also had a better sleeve illustration.

Incidentally, Newman was born in 1900 not 1901 as stated on the rear of the CD and in the booklet.

Ultimately, it is the music that matters and this is an excellent re-issue of music by a much underrated composer. The sound is excellent and seems to be slightly brighter than the original. A must for all fans of film music in general and this composer in particular.

-- Bob Briggs, MusicWeb International

As this second volume of overtures shows, there really is quite a bit of little-known Schubert orchestral music. Perhaps the biggest discovery for many listeners will be the turbulent Overture in E minor, but there are more than a few substantial pieces here. The two Overtures in the Italian Style are delightful, and so true to their models, and all of the music here is very well played and recorded. Benda and the Prague Sinfonia deliver a particularly vivacious account of the Rosamunde Overture, just the opposite of the thick and heavy "German" approach that we so often hear, while Fierabras also has plenty of energy. The sonics capture the players very naturally, with nicely present woodwinds and excellent balances between brass and strings. No qualms here: Go for it.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Hisato Ohzawa, one of the foremost Japanese composers of the first half of the twentieth century, studied in the 1930s in Boston and Paris. This second Naxos disc of his music features two works premiered by the composer in Paris.

Consistently enjoyable and exciting, glistens with personal touches.

This is another escapee from Marco Polo [8.225149] newly revivified by Naxos in their Film Music Classics series. There’s an hour’s worth of music here with short cues run together for reasons of continuity in the proper sequence. Steiner’s music is consistently enjoyable and exciting. It glistens with personal touches and little orchestral feats that captivate and evoke in the shortest possible time.

The Train Attack scene sets the pulse racing – all one hundred seconds of it – and Steiner cleverly uses percussion voicings to summon up thoughts of finding gold. There are opportunities for nostalgia and reflection as well – Steiner uses Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms as such a device in the sixth track here, Campfire, and it reappears later. The cave-in scene is excitingly but tersely done – for all Steiner’s symphonic depth and range he maintained a "go for the jugular" precision when necessary.

These are qualities strongly in evidence in the banditry and violence of the score as when, for instance, the remorseless gaining of the bandits is so trenchantly evoked by the slash of the strings and the throb of the rhythm. Steiner builds up tension with inexorable but concise precision. And there are of course plenty of moments for the unleashing of his lyric affiliations; the romantic string curve of the tenth track, Cody’s Letter, leads on to a reprise of Texas Memories and its evocation of the sentiment of Believe Me.

The more horrifying elements of the score are also targeted with his accustomed finesse and compact perception. The cue The Ruins for instance has an abundance of high string and harp writing that has a satisfyingly high spine-tingle quotient. The Chorus is used very sparingly, here to sing the Funeral Chant [track twelve] and it’s done in the usual accomplished way.

Talking of accomplishment the orchestral and vocal forces of the Moscow Symphony sound notably well drilled and on the ball in this performance. John Morgan’s restorations are part of the backbone of the whole series and his written notes are always worth reading. Production values are high, as always.

Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International

Knowing his earlier work, one might expect a certain amount of ironic and subversive wit with any of Mauricio Kagel’s pieces, but this new Naxos issue is full of deadly serious stuff, and all the more welcome for it.

There was always more to Kagel’s art than just jokes, and this set of works show him in the context of broad canvasses, from the Mahlerian orchestral song-cycle form of Duodramen, to the double chorus and full orchestra of Liturgien. Szenario was conceived as a stand-alone concert piece, but has since become associated with the Luis Buñuel/Salvador Dalí silent film Le chien andalou of 1928. The tape part of the score consists of animal noises, with of course a whining, and later a barking dog. These sound samples could have been better, coming over rather distorted and tinny, rather than threatening and aggressive where required. The juxtaposition of sometimes eloquent strings and animal sounds is a little uneasy as well, with the extra noises only cropping up now and again – their relevance not entirely clear without any visual references. Nevertheless, there is an unremitting and pungent weight to the march-like rhythm which is a constant backdrop to some colourful string writing. Kagel can’t resist the occasional Wagner quote, but this work has all of the pregnant atmosphere one should expect from good film music – intentional or not.

Duodramen opens immediately with a post-romantic, operatic sense of drama. Looking at the libretto (available online via a link provided on the CD label) one receives the impression less of a coherent story, more an association of ideas and disparate characters – names such as Casanova, Alma Mahler, Henry Ford and Cosima Wagner inhabiting the score and meeting each other in strange and impossible relationships. The text is in German, but has an English translation on the web-page. There is a great deal of complex detail and dramatic context from beginning to end in this piece, giving it an intensity and resonance which I found quite stimulating. That is not to say that there are no moments of repose, and there are indeed some passages of remarkable orchestral colour – chillingly suggestive or vibrantly picturesque – no doubt helped by the addition of percussion and winds, I found the images conjured in this score in many ways to be far more vivid than the previous Szenario. The brutal intimidation of male over female doesn’t make for easy listening, but then, neither is Wozzeck.

Playing, singing and recordings are all excellent on this disc, and this remains true of the final live performance of Liturgien. Referring once again to the online page, the words are all taken from existing religious texts, the source for each of which also being included in detail. The language used is Latin, which for many will soften the impact of having ‘Alleluia’ standing close to ‘Allah is great!’ There is a ritual nature to the music which suits this intentional levelling of symbolism, and I sense traces of Britten, Martin, Stravinsky, Penderecki, Szymanowski – names whose stamp on religious musical expression, if not necessarily as ambiguous as here, at least invariably bears a strong humanist element.

This piece has an other-worldly, magical quality which is something I have always valued in Kagel, and am delighted to find existing in his larger-scale work. If Duodramen is a drama on a private, intimate scale, Liturgien is very much a public statement. No-one can ignore the significance of religious text, and neither is it possible to ignore the idea of effectively taking religion and mixing its writings in the waste-bin of a shredder. This music has all of the seriousness and weight to carry Kagel’s message of homogeneity. While revelling in this work’s spell it was also nice for me to come across some familiar names to one who works at the Royal Conservatoire in The Hague – I shall never forget Wout Oosterkamp’s warm encouragement as a teacher, or some performances and workshops by Romain Bischoff’s amazing Vocal Laboratory.

Originally recordings by Saarbrücken Radio, Naxos has made a sound move in releasing these recordings – conducted by the composer, and unlikely to be repeated or bettered any time soon. 2006 is Kagel’s 75th jubilee, but no mention of this is made in the booklet, neither is there any suggestion that this is to be part of any series or collection. I would say there is room for such an edition – especially on the strength of this release.

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

The son of the famous Bologna composer Giovanni Battista Vitali, Tomaso Antonio moved with his father to Modena in 1674, joining the court orchestra of Duke Francesco II d'Este, which he was later to lead, in the following year.

There are several descriptive scores in William Alwyn’s prolific output, including The Moor of Venice Dramatic Overture which examines the turbulent central character in Shakespeare’s Othello. The Serenade and the orchestral version of Seven Irish Tunes receive première recordings here, both covering a wide range of moods. Following his acclaimed recording of the Concerto Grosso No. 1 (Naxos 8.570704), David Lloyd-Jones here completes the set, the second of which is scored for strings, and concluding with the Concerto Grosso No. 3 which is a tribute to Sir Henry Wood.

The four previous Alwyn volumes from Naxos have done well and here the standard has not slipped.

Not content with generosity and higher bargain price Naxos offer us two more pieces of Alwyn not previously recorded. These make this disc an essential purchase.

The tangily-titled overture The Innumerable Dance derives its name from fragrantly verdant verse in Blake’s ‘Milton’. You need to remember that between 1933 and 1938 he wrote a massive work for soli, chorus and orchestra on Blake’s Marriage of Heaven and Hell; something we need to hear. The music of the overture has some kinship with Delius and Moeran; you must remember that this is very early Alwyn. Its fly-away delicacy is also redolent of Holst. It is most transparently orchestrated and its triumphant celebration of Spring places it with two more complex works: Bridge’s Enter Spring and John Foulds’ April-England.

Aphrodite in Aulis is referred to as an Eclogue inspired by the George Moore novel of the same name. Moore is now desperately unfashionable and his writing is pretty indigestible. In Alwyn’s dreamily Delian music summer breathes easily; indeed the whole piece communicates as a single sweetly arched sigh.

The Oboe Concerto was premiered by Evelyn Barbirolli on 12 April 1949 in London. It’s a two movement work of meditative and dreamily contented Delian inclination. Its kinship is with the much later Arnold Oboe Concerto written for Leon Goossens.

Alwyn put aside these moods as the years passed and so we come to a piece that music-lovers who discovered Alwyn in the LP age will already know. The Magic Island Prelude appeared on an early Lyrita (SRCS63 still available in a new coupling as SRCD229) with the Third Symphony. Here the manner we know from the symphonies is apparent but cross-cut with ‘exotic’ Hispanic voices from Ravel. If Alwyn’s vision of the magical island is more grandiose and less enchantingly delicate than I would have expected this piece remains atmospheric.

The dance theme continues with the Elizabethan Dances which start with courtly echoes from the Court of the First Elizabeth to which we return for the allegro scherzando which is splashed with the sort of playfulness to be found in Bridge’s Roger de Coverley. This contrasts with rapturous and even exotic dances (trs. 2, 4, 6) with the psychological reach of a Prokofiev waltz or the tension-charged dances from Barber’s Souvenirs. These dances were preceded in 1946 by a Suite of Scottish Dances.

The disc ends with the Festival March premiered by Sargent conducting the LPO on 21 May 1951. This is an inspired and dignified but not very personal piece of jobbery assuming the loose-fitting panoply of Elgar and Walton in much the same way as Howard Ferguson did for his 1953 Overture for an Occasion.

Alwyn’s short orchestral works can be heard on both Chandos (conducted by Hickox) and Lyrita (Alwyn). These are full price items and the couplings differ from the present one so there is little point in comparison. All I need say is that the recording is natural without being distanced and that the performances evince commitment and a sympathy for the composer’s varying styles. Clearly if you have already launched out on the Naxos route for the Alwyn symphonies you will need to have this. In any event Alwynites will want this for the unique experience of hearing more than sixteen minutes of previously unrecorded orchestral Alwyn.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International