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

Naxos has been doing Alan Rawsthorne (1905–1971) proud. An English composer who might have become a dentist, and who studied the piano with Egon Petri in Poland and Germany, Rawsthorne’s music is gritty, concentrated, and very communicative in its edge.

The two violinists of the Maggini Quartet give a very assured account of Theme and Variations (1937), spellbinding music of wide range: lyrical, intense, fiery, and mercurial. Rawsthorne’s String Quartet No. 1 (1939) is also cast as a theme and variations; once more this is music that compels, is beautifully worked out, and is compact while spawning much over its 10 minutes.

The other quartets, from 1954 and 1965, are just as concise, in four and three movements, respectively—at least, Naxos supplies three cue points for No. 3—although the composer himself informs us that No. 3 is in “two main sections, each of these being divided into several sub-sections.” Rawsthorne’s introductions, presumably written for the first performances of each work, are helpfully reproduced in Naxos’s booklet. Both works dig deep into emotional states as well as being formally attractive. There’s real heart, here, and genuine craftsmanship, searching and voluble, the musical language extended as each work is reached in terms of the composer’s chronology while retaining a passionate outreach for the listener to climb aboard. If I suggest that admirers of Bartók and Hindemith will be on home ground here, I also want to stress that Rawsthorne is very much his own man, expressing himself deeply through music.

Wonderfully well played by the Maggini Quartet, and rendered with a conviction that suggests Rawsthorne’s music is standard repertoire for these musicians, this is an outstanding release that is further blessed by sound that is tangible and truthful. Please don’t miss what I believe to be really significant pieces.

FANFARE: Colin Anderson

Liszt's Donizetti transcriptions tell as much about their transcriber's singular bravura as they do about the prolific Italian opera composer's unstoppable melodic invention. The ideal interpreter should be able to make light of the enormous technical challenges without forgetting to let the tunes take shape in the manner of a great opera singer. Fortunately William Wolfram commands the right stuff to bring these chestnuts to life. He may not always match Leslie Howard's pearly nuances in slower, quieter passages, yet Wolfram brings much more drive and scintillation to the huge Lucrezia Borgia paraphrase's notey climaxes. He also finds varied colorations that prevent textural stagnation in the Dom Sebastian funeral march's frequent bass-register rumbles. The Valse de concert consistently demonstrates Wolfram's unflappable workmanship and sheer professionalism. While he negotiates the Lucia di Lammermoor sextet's thickets without a hitch, I can't erase Jorge Bolet's aristocratic cantabile from my inner ear, or from my hard drive for that matter! No doubt that Liszt mavens will want to know about this fine, often outstanding release.

--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

The son of Alessandro Scarlatti, who created a new school of opera in Naples, Domenico Scarlatti is particularly distinguished for his remarkable keyboard sonatas, of which some 555 are known.

Recording information: Studio 5, Russian State TV & Radio Company KULTURA, Mos (05/02/2007-05/03/2007); Studio 5, Russian State TV & Radio Company KULTURA, Mos (05/06/2007); Studio 5, Russian State TV & Radio Company KULTURA, Mos (09/13/2007).

Exotic rhythms, exuberant and unmistakably Georgian folk melodies, woodwind solos filled with longing, passionate writing for the primary soloist, and an immediately appealing orchestral palette – lovers of Khachaturian’s classic Violin Concerto will recognize in his Cello Concerto all the elements that make this composer a 20th century favorite.

The work for cello and orchestra is not as well-known as its counterpart, but that is an injustice which this new recording attempts to counteract. Dmitry Yablonsky is the excellent soloist, and his account makes it clear that a potential audience favorite has been withheld from the standard repertoire for too long.

Khachaturian no longer needs introduction to Western audiences. He is known from his ballets Gayaneh and Spartacus, and from his Violin Concerto, as a composer who pleases both the crowds and the critics. The Violin Concerto was premiered by legendary violinist David Oistrakh, and has been a staple of concert programs and new CDs ever since. It has been recorded by the likes of Leonid Kogan, Itzhak Perlman, Henryk Szeryng, Ruggiero Ricci and, more recently, Julia Fischer. The Cello Concerto has not received anything like that level of advocacy. By my count, this is just the seventh major recording of the stereo era. The work’s relative obscurity may have something to do with its gloomier overall atmosphere, its more troubled emotional state, and, worst of all, the harsh denunciations leveled at it by Soviet authorities after its premiere in 1946. Let us hope that this fantastic recording will inspire its return to the mainstream.

The Cello Concerto opens with an orchestral introduction of only about a minute’s duration. It is heavy with foreboding and tapers off into one of the many moody, mysterious clarinet solos which punctuate the first movement. Then the cello enters and announces the memorable first theme. After that the movement is off to the races: brilliant color, skilful thematic development, and high drama mix in the same folksy idiom which characterizes so much of this composer’s music. A delicious clarinet solo prepares the way for the second subject, and there is a sudden reminiscence of the Dies irae theme by the orchestra as the cellist enters, but the Catholic hymn is warded off before it can really settle in. The development reaches its peak with a deliciously colorful dance in the seventh minute, before the cellist’s cadenza skillfully combines the movement’s dueling moods of exuberance and introspection.

The second movement, beginning with an eerie flute solo, is a dramatic, stern creation in which we see only glimmers of the consoling ‘big tune’. One might compare it to a view of a harsh landscape with a mere hint of lush green far in the distance. The lyrical heart of this movement is evasive and fleeting.

The finale brings the expected fireworks, but it also presents the main structural flaw: the energy level in the second half of the finale consistently decreases until the lightning-fast coda shocks the music out of its slumber. Perhaps this is partially the responsibility of the performers, but I doubt it. Dmitry Yablonsky’s cello playing is consistently riveting; his regular work as a conductor on Naxos has concealed the fact that he is a very fine cellist indeed. What’s more, the Russian Philharmonia plays superbly throughout. The orchestra itself is somewhat of an enigma — it was previously known as the TV 6 Orchestra and does not appear to give public concerts — but the level of the playing here is impressive. As mentioned, the first-desk wind players are especially praiseworthy. And, even when the final coda seems to come too soon, it is a mark of Khachaturian’s skill that we are left hungering for more rather than wishing there had been less.

Luckily there is more. The Concerto-Rhapsody for Cello and Orchestra is a twenty-four minute work in a single movement. It makes even greater demands on Yablonsky than the longer concerto. Within a minute we are launched into an extremely long and grueling solo cadenza, in which the cellist presents all the themes we will soon be hearing amid much fiercely difficult passage-work. The Concerto-Rhapsody is, perhaps, more interesting on first listen, because its musical idiom is largely more advanced and more forbidding than a typical Khachaturian work. Oddly, on repeated hearings it is the simpler, more tuneful concerto which is more rewarding. The Concerto-Rhapsody, which occasionally quotes the Dies irae idea from the earlier work, simply does not have enough thematic material to justify its twenty-four minutes. There is a frankly dull and repetitive stretch in the development passage, which is a pity because the titanic cadenza had commanded our attention so powerfully. Near the end Khachaturian pitches in a few spectacular moments for the percussion and brass which recall the peasant dances from Gayaneh, but this comes after an awful lot of dithering over a very small number of interesting musical ideas. By contrast, the Concerto is both a potential crowd-pleaser and a satisfying, intelligent piece.

This recording makes me wonder just why the Cello Concerto isn’t a smash hit in concert halls across the world right now. It’s instantly appealing, emotionally complex, fantastically orchestrated, virtuosic, and filled with an abundance of good tunes. At the very least, one would expect more recordings to be available, but there is almost no major competition for this Yablonsky performance. A Chandos disc featuring Raphael Wallfisch puts the Concerto in a more elegiac light and features very polished, expressive cello playing, though the acoustic is not always flattering to the cello itself and the London Philharmonic winds are not as characterful as their Russian counterparts. Wallfisch has a definite edge on Yablonsky in the expressive slow movement, but Yablonsky takes extra trouble to make the repeated-note theme in the finale genuinely interesting and varied, where Wallfisch simply runs the notes together. The coupling on the Chandos disc is the Violin Concerto, which most Khachaturian fans will likely already have.

I have not heard the Regis recording with cellist Marina Tarasova, but the disappointed reviews on this site by Michael Cookson and Jonathan Woolf suggest that that performance, a full four minutes slower than Yablonsky’s, is not a good advocate of the piece. A Philips CD starring Christine Walevska and conductor Eliahu Inbal is long out of print.

This new recording featuring Dmitry Yablonsky is, then, the finest available performance of the Khachaturian Cello Concerto, and as such merits the strongest possible recommendation. If the Concerto-Rhapsody does not always reach the same level of inspiration, Yablonsky’s playing is still breathtaking. These are recordings which any fan of Khachaturian would delight to have, and which should commend a richly enjoyable but long-forgotten concerto to a much wider audience. Rich, clear sound completes the package.

-- Brian Reinhart, MusicWeb International

Thomas Viloteau, First Prize Winner in the 2006 Guitar Foundation of America Competition, has studied at the Barcelona Conservatorio Superior de M sica under Joan Furio, and at the ecole Normale in Paris with Alberto Ponce.

Includes work(s) for choir by Herbert Howells. Ensembles: Bach Choir, Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra. Conductor: David Hill (Conductor, Organ). Soloists: James Gilchrist, Roderick Williams, Katy Butler.

Spritely performances of real winners.

Perhaps it’s a terrible admission to make, but much as I love Haydn, I have never really warmed to his concertos. Here, I thought, was the father of the Symphony as we know it today, the String Quartet as we know it today, and the foundation of opera. OK, I know that Mozart had an hand in the development of all these forms but it was Haydn who got things going. Sure enough, there’s drama and poetry aplenty in the pieces mentioned but concertos? Where’s the dramatic interplay between soloist and orchestra? Where’s the element of man standing alone against the crowd?

Then along comes this disk and I suddenly have to re–think my position. It had never dawned on me that the concept of protagonist and lynch mob hadn’t been invented at the time Haydn was writing his concerted works. So now I can see them in a different light for what they are – wonderful entertainment music with prominent parts for solo instruments.

I’m glad that I’ve been able to change my views and can now enjoy these works for they are delightful. The Horn Concerto which opens the disk is full of good things, the writing for horn is certainly virtuosic – the range which Haydn demands of his performer is phenomenal – and here Babanov is quite happy whether he plays in the highest or lowest registers. Haydn goes to both extremes and exploits the full range of the instrument. The work also includes two quite taxing cadenzas. It is thought that the work was written for Joseph Leutgeb, the recipient of Mozart’s four Horn Concertos - he must have been some player! And what a lucky man to have five such magnificent works created for him!

The Harpsichord Concerto is full of great jokes. I especially love the jumping frog impression which the keyboard undertakes at 1:37 in the first movement. There’s lots of interplay between soloist and orchestra, more than in the wind concertos, but this is probably because Haydn knew that his soloist wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the accompaniment as easily as in the other works. The slow movement contains many little jokes with grace notes cheekily sticking their noses into the serious business of tunefulness. The finale is simply a fast romp.

The Double Concerto is thought to have started life as a work for organ. It is considered to have been performed for the solemn profession of Therese Keller, Haydn’ future sister–in–law, as a nun in 1756 – the proof being that the range used by the fortepiano is restricted to the range of the contemporary Viennese organ. Certainly, this is a more serious work, more stately, than the others contained herein. The two soloists never engage in overt display and more often than not they connect in harmonious duet. Rather lovely it is, too. The finale is fast and joyful, but there’s still a serious undertone to the music.

Thanks to the solo trumpet repertoire being quite small, until contemporary composers started writing for it, Haydn’s Trumpet Concerto has become very well known. It’s a true virtuoso work with a gorgeous slow movement and a racy finale.

The performances here are first class, with lots of life and a real period feel. There’s nothing prissy or restrained about them - they’re really very alive. Thoroughly enjoyable.

I must make two points. First of all, in almost every movement, for reasons best known to himself, Müller–Brühl insists on making huge rallentandi at the ends of movements. This ruins the flow of what has gone before. It is a blemish on the performances.

My second point is rather more important. The sound is in Naxos’s best manner – bright and clear. In the Trumpet Concerto the balance between soloist and orchestra is perfect. The whole sound is well focused and there is a good relationship between listener and performer. However, in the other three works the recording is very close which slightly distorts the sound-picture as everything comes across as being overblown. The obviously small string orchestra ends up sounding like a small orchestra which has been over–amplified. This is most noticeable in the slow movements where a more intimate atmosphere is required than in the faster pieces. If you turn the volume down in the hope of taming the sound you lose some of the presence of the performances. This is a shame for these are spritely performances which are real winners and will do much to make these works better known to the public.

This is well worth having, despite my reservations about the sound. If you can tame it ever so slightly – it doesn’t need much – you’ll have a really good time listening to very pleasurable music.

-- Bob Briggs, MusicWeb International

Growing up as I did in the New England prep-school tradition, I had the opportunity to sing in some half-dozen Gilbert and Sullivan operettas (we did one every year), and saw many more in local productions in and around Connecticut. I remember particularly memorable productions of Iolanthe and Patience (dragoons on motorcycles), but at one time or another I had the good fortune to see or act in most of these pieces, some on multiple occasions. Although Gilbert's verbal wit does not export well, at least according to my friends on the continent, Sullivan's tunes remain some of the finest and most memorable ever to grace operetta. I'll take him over those Viennese schlockmeisters any day, though Offenbach is another story entirely.

All of which is a long way of saying that Pineapple Poll, Charles Mackerras' balletic answer to Gaîté Parisienne, is a masterpiece of musical pastiche, and a delicious treat for anyone who just wants to relax and revel in delicious melodies, dressed up in "bright as a shiny new penny" orchestration.

Mackerras himself recorded "Poll" at least twice, for EMI and later for Decca in the early digital days, and both performances are splendid, as might be expected. But so is this one. It's every bit as rhythmically infectious, exceptionally well played, and brilliantly recorded. David Lloyd-Jones' vivacious take on the Irish Symphony provides a very substantial bonus, making this new release a prime recommendation if you want to hear Sullivan's major orchestral work alongside many of his best tunes, but without the voices. Marvellous!

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

William Alwyn composed prolifically in virtually all genres, orchestral, chamber, vocal and instrumental. Like his contemporary Samuel Barber, Alwyn was an unashamed Romantic who preferred his music to appeal to the heart rather than to the head.

Includes work(s) by Joseph Martin Kraus. Ensemble: New Zealand Symphony Orchestra. Conductor: Uwe Grodd.

The music of Deborah Drattell is saturated in vivid colour and neo-Romantic vitality, and this selection reflects both it's warmth and also it's dynamism. In Sorrow is not Melancholy gentleness co-exists with pervasive melancholy and tenser sonorities, whereas the Clarinet Concerto is a very different work, embracing dance patterns that pulsate with excitement. Both Lilith and the Fire Within share Middle Eastern influences. The first is a sensual, sinuous evocation of 'the female demon' whilst the latter is imbued with drones, drums and tambourine, all exotically spiced. Syzygy brilliantly explores nature in all it's elemental power.

The sixteenth-century Leipzig organist Elias Nicolaus Ammerbach is remembered above all for his Tabulaturbuch, a collection of keyboard arrangements of songs, dances and other works.

Erwin Schulhoff’s three major works for string quartet fit neatly onto a single, rather short (51 minutes here) CD. They consist of the two numbered works, plus the Five Pieces of 1923, this latter a wonderful dance suite that includes a Viennese waltz, a tarantella, and a “Tango Milonga” in addition to a Serenata and a folksy “Alla Czeca.” This last idiom also features prominently in the First Quartet, where it becomes an Allegro giocoso alla slovacca. You may recognize the melody as the first cousin of the trumpet tune that concludes Kodály’s Háry János Suite (The Entrance of the Emperor and his Court).

This music, rhythmically charged and alternately folk-inflected and harmonically contemporary, is absolutely wonderful, and it’s very well played here by the Aviv Quartet. The group isn’t quite as edgy and hard-driving as the benchmark Petersen Quartett on Capriccio, but their more rounded tone never comes at the expense of Schulhoff’s madcap energy, and they arguably make more out of the First Quartet’s concluding Andante, never mind the Second Quartet’s highly contrasted second movement variations. The group is also quite sensitive to Schulhoff’s use of tone-color–everything from col legno strokes with the back of the bow to the senza vibrato conclusion of the First Quartet’s finale.

Naxos’ engineering is also warm, well-balanced, and natural. If you don’t know this music, you should, and I can recommend this reasonably priced disc with enthusiasm.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

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An overlooked modernist thrills, chills and dances.

"Erwin Schulhoff’s music for string quartet is built on forceful rhythms and startling juxtapositions of material; it dances, yes, but with fiery intensity and rough humor. His style is the polar opposite of works like Tchaikovsky’s First Quartet or Borodin’s Second; in the most famous moments of those quartets, the four players sing together with one voice, melodies flowing naturally along in seamless harmony. Schulhoff’s model is a radically different one: here the interplay between instruments sounds not like a romance but like a brilliantly choreographed action-film fight scene, the players darting and weaving about each other, poised and ready to strike.

The First String Quartet comprises three studies in rhythm followed by an agonized slow movement. The first movement is jaunty and refreshingly melodic, with echoes of Stravinsky in an ebullient mood. The second movement is more menacing, the central section’s thematic material given slithering accompaniment, but it is the slow movement, which serves as the quartet’s finale, that acts as this work’s emotional core.

Of the three works on the disc, the First Quartet was most successful during Schulhoff’s lifetime, and its appeal is immediate. This is an engaging and rewarding piece waiting for a concert-hall revival, and, since it is a scant seventeen minutes, the quartet could safely be squeezed onto many a recital program.

The Five Pieces are a suite of dance movements which seem straightforward: a Viennese waltz, a serenade and a tango are among their number. But these works are not for the faint of heart; they are traditional dances viewed through the prism of Stravinsky or, perhaps, Schoenberg, and, like Ravel’s La Valse but with more of a bite, they are probably meant to some degree to be satirical. The waltz is almost unrecognizable as such in the opening bars, but soon becomes irresistible; the other dances are similarly magnetic. The tarantella is a good example: relatively straightforward in form, the harmonies nevertheless make us feel as if we are in the musical equivalent of a house of mirrors.

The Second String Quartet, composed just a year after the First in 1925, is arguably a masterpiece. The first movement finds Schulhoff’s tense style slightly matured, and the slow theme and variations begin with a beautiful viola solo. The highlight of the variations is an amiable folksy dance beginning at roughly the three-minute mark; another intriguing dance, with the unique marking “Allegro gajo,” follows in the third movement, but the finale is a fierce, very modern battle with some of the most thrilling unison playing on the album.

Fortunately for Schulhoff’s legacy, these are terrific performances. The Aviv Quartet have been playing together for a decade now, since they inaugurated their career amid a flurry of international competition victories in 1999, and they sound simply fantastic on this disc. The playing is electric; no position is a weak link. Schulhoff’s music for string quartet has been assembled on another disc, a 1994 Capriccio release, but this Naxos album is more widely available, and at half the price. Neither represents the complete quartet music (a Divertimento has gone unrecorded), but only completists will really be bothered by this quibble.

A terrific introduction to Schulhoff’s chamber music, then, although there are other works (like the surprising Concertino for Flute, Viola and Double Bass) which are more immediately appealing, and although other albums may simply have more music (this one is barely fifty minutes long). But this recording will be an eye-opener for those who prefer their string quartets to be perfume-soaked romantic treasures, and a treasure for admirers of modern chamber music. A good way to expand one’s horizons."

-- Brian Reinhart, MusicWeb International

As previous issues in this series have shown, when Antoni Wit and his forces are in top form in the music of Szymanowski, they're pretty much unbeatable. At last, we have a complete symphony cycle in performances that will serve as the reference for all newcomers. Szymanowski repudiated his First Symphony on stylistic grounds (too Wagnerian), and it certainly does not represent the direction he ultimately took. But it's still great fun: a big, bold, scant 20 minutes of colorful scoring and exuberant musical ideas. The Concert Overture is even more so. It's pure Richard Strauss, only better in some respects--packing all the ebullience of Don Juan or Ein Heldenleben (or both!) into a relatively concise curtain-raiser.

The performance of the Symphonie Concertante, one of Szymanowski's greatest works, is superb. Pianist Jan Krzysztof Broja plays the solo part beautifully. He's got the chops for the big moments in the outer movements, but it's his delicacy at the start of the central andante that's most memorable. Wit, typically, directs the orchestra with remarkable clarity as well as power. The finale in particular never has sounded less "clogged" texturally, while the very natural engineering always leaves plenty of room for the sound to expand and fill the hall at those ecstatic climaxes that are such a hallmark of this composer. A splendid release!

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Clara Schumann the composer often worked in her husband' shadow, many of her songs being mistaken for his, although those best loved by the public flowed from her pen.

The composer's love of exotic colours is exploited to the full by 'home' forces

As he reveals in an interview in this issue, Antoni Wit is one of the world’s best-selling conductors, and yet he is very far from the celebrity of an Abbado or a Haitink. Less charismatic than either of those, perhaps, but as he shows here once again he has a exceptional talent for inhabiting a composer’s sound world. These are performances of great affection and, typically for Wit, sound totally idiomatic.

-- Gramophone [5/2008]

Antoni Wit almost always can be relied on to deliver very thoughtful, beautifully musical, even inspired results, and there's no question that he conducts these works extremely well. The performances of both symphonies have a confidence and warmth about them that bespeaks a thorough understanding of Szymanowski's richly textured idiom. The Song of the Night (a.k.a. Symphony No. 3) has many of the same qualities that made Wit's Mahler Eighth so special: terrific choral singing, a bigness of conception that never precludes physical excitement, and very natural balances between vocal and instrumental forces.

The Straussian Second Symphony is a much tougher work conceptually, and here it seems to me that Wit could have asked for a sharper rhythmic edge to the string playing in the first movement, and perhaps a bit more contrast between the variations of the finale. The large acoustic that so benefits the Third Symphony also blunts the edge of this purely instrumental piece, but the fact is that a good deal of the problem lies with the work itself--its not quite resolved conflict between structure and musical idiom--and Wit's performance remains as fine as any currently available. Certainly this very enjoyable (and very inexpensive) disc should satisfy any fan of this splendid but still underrated composer.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

The most important Danish composer of the first part of the twentieth century, Carl Nielsen was prolific in almost all genres. Dissociating himself strongly from Late Romanticism.

Includes work(s) for pno by Enrique Granados. Soloist: Douglas Riva.

I can see significant interest and many converts to brass band music being generated by this disc from the Black Dyke Band.

This Naxos release consists of eleven popular works in arrangements for brass band. I hope that it heralds a continuing Brass Band Classics series. Here the term ‘arrangement’ is used in its broadest sense, not differentiating between those scores that strive to stay faithful to the original in the way of a transcription and those that make freer use of the material. Eight different arrangers, mainly celebrated figures in the brass band movement, have been at work here. Notable is Alan Fernie, a Royal Academy of Music student who is represented by four separate pieces.

The compass of brass band music has been significantly augmented by this activity. In addition to original brass band works it was in the 1930s that the fashion developed for making popular works of the standard repertoire available for brass bands to play. Around the mid-twentieth-century the popularly of banding was given the strongest possible advocacy when distinguished conductors, knights, Malcolm Sargent; Adrian Boult and John Barbirolli all directed concerts of massed brass bands.

The performers here are the Black Dyke Band, formerly the Black Dyke Mills Band, under their Principal Conductor and Director of Music, Nicholas Childs. Arguably the best known brass band on the world stage the Black Dyke Band has been voted ‘Champion Band of Great Britain’ on twenty occasions as well as receiving a large number of other prestigious awards. From Queensbury, Bradford the Black Dyke Band were founded over one hundred and fifty years ago in a town where a tradition of brass band music can be traced back to 1816.

Instantly recognisable to virtually all listeners is the opening work, the magnificent Grand March from Verdi’s opera Aida. This stunning arrangement by Alan Fernie seems especially suited to the martial, fanfare-like quality of the considerable brass elements that Verdi designed in his score. Black Dyke impress and entertain and the solo passage between 2:01-2:41 is especially effective.

Brahms composed his Academic Festival Overture (1880) to thank the University of Breslau for conferring on him an honorary doctorate. The composer caused a stir amongst the University hierarchy by including several popular melodies from student drinking songs and this 1936 brass arrangement by Denis Wright highlights them to great effect.

Bizet is represented by three scores. The first is Goff Richards’s brass arrangement of Au fond du temple saint (Deep inside the sacred temple) universally known as the Pearl Fisher Duet from the 1863 opera The Pearl Fishers. I was bowled over by the beautiful rich timbre of Black Dyke’s two euphonium soloists David Thornton and John French in this splendid Pearl Fisher Duet that has been polled more than once as the nation's favourite tune.

Bizet’s 1875 opera Carmen is an acknowledged masterpiece. Here Alan Fernie has arranged five popular extracts into a well designed and contrasting suite for brass containing the essence of Spain. I especially enjoyed the confident swagger given to the portrayal of the bullfighter’s life by Black Dyke in the colourful Toreador’s Song.

Howard Lorriman has made a brass arrangement of the Farandole from the Second Suite from Bizet’s 1872 incidental music to Alphonse Daudet’s play L'arlesienne (The Woman from Arles). The Farandole, a lively traditional Provençal chain dance, is represented here by proud and effervescent music that Black Dyke develop into a thrilling and almost frenzied conclusion.

Stephen Roberts in 1996 produced an arrangement of Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity from Holst’s most popular work. The perpetually heard central melody was subsequently arranged to the words “I vow to thee, my country.” Ably supported by the impeccable quality of ensemble the arrangement sounds especially effective in its brass guise.

A perennial favourite: the ubiquitous Nimrod from Elgar’s Variations on an Original Theme, ‘Enigma’ (1899) is the ninth variation and a musical representation of his friend A.J. Jaeger; the publishing manager at Novello. This performance of Eric Ball’s 1983 version of this easygoing and cheerful variation sounds highly impressive with an agreeable glow.

Achieving recognition as a stand-alone work the Prelude and Fugue: The Spitfire is extracted from Walton’s 1942 film score The First of the Few. It starred Leslie Howard who also directed. This marvellously played Alan Fernie arrangement just loses too much orchestral colour from Walton’s original.

Gershwin based his folk opera Porgy and Bess (1934-35) on Porgy the novel by DuBose Heyward. This successful arrangement by Alan Fernie uses four popular songs from the opera: the brash It ain't necessarily so; the joyous I got plenty o' nuttin'; the tender and poignant Bess, you is my woman now and the uplifting hymn I'm on my way.

Prolific arranger Dutchman Klaas van der Woude has prepared for brass the Hymn to the Fallen from John Williams’s score to Steven Spielberg’s 1998 film Saving Private Ryan. The Hymn to the Fallen is the highlight of the score and serves as a fitting requiem to all the soldiers who gave their lives during the World War II, Normandy landings in 1944. Superbly played by Black Dyke the heart-rending arrangement is defined by the distinctive plea of the fanfare-like theme that opens the piece.

The release concludes with Tchaikovsky’s celebrated 1812 Overture (1880) in a version by Robert Childs; the brother of Nicholas Childs the conductor. The myriad moods are superbly captured in this adroit arrangement. The build-up to the powerful and triumphant conclusion is especially successful.

Throughout this exciting release the outstanding feature is the security of ensemble. The excellence of the vivid and well balanced sound from Morley Town Hall together with the helpful essay from Roy Newsome contributes to the desirability of the disc.

With the wide appeal of these popular scores and the exceptional standard of the performances from the Black Dyke Band I can see significant interest and many subsequent converts to brass band music being generated by this disc. I sincerely hope that this is the first of many volumes from Naxos of Symphonic Brass.

-- Michael Cookson, MusicWeb International

The euphonium is said to have been invented in Weimar in 1843. In German and Russian military bands it came to replace the bassoon, suggesting that transcriptions of works for bassoon should make an interesting and useful addition to euphonium solo.

Karol Szymanowski' Stabat Mater, set to a Polish translation of the medieval poem, makes extensive use of traditional Polish musical ideas. His setting of the Veni Creator was composed for the opening of the Warsaw Academy of Music, of which he was t.

Includes work(s) for piano by Enrique Granados. Soloists: Douglas Riva, Jordi Masó.

Includes work(s) for organ by Joseph Rheinberger. Soloist: Wolfgang Rübsam.