Andres Isasi's youthful promise can be heard in the easy romance of his Grieg and Dvorak influenced String Quartet No 0.

This music is far removed from the style of Khachaturian’s memorable ballets Spartacus (1954) and Gayaneh (1942), being more complex and profound, so the reader should not endeavor to make comparisons with the familiar Khachaturian. The Russian composer came to writing his big compositions late in his career and decided to embrace the modernism then in fashion. Khachaturian happened to be a contemporary of Prokofiev (1891-1953) and Stravinsky (1882-1971), but where Prokofiev tended to dwell more on the romantic, Khachaturian leans to Stravinsky’s exploratory and robust form of composition.

The Second Symphony is Khachaturian’s biggest and most sophisticated work with its thematic material well hidden on a first listening. There are twists and turns to the score that are powerful and aggressive. This can be explained by the fact that the material was composed during the Second World War and Hitler’s attempt to take Moscow. Could the writing be a lament for the emotional turmoil the Russian citizens were going through? To give this symphony a title, ‘The Bell’ seems to be an error as its appearance is easily missed.

A myriad of textures and colors are evident in the symphony and its opening passages swirl around a moody gloom. Later, contrast is created by explosive fireworks that bring the full forces of the orchestra to swamp the imagination. This music could not have been easy for either the orchestra or conductor to master since each orchestral section seems to play the staves in isolation from its neighboring section. It is telling that the recording took five days to complete, clearly a vast investment of time and expense.

Far more in tune to the ear is the Lermontov Suite, which had its beginnings in earlier pieces brought together for this suite. Its name comes from a play about the life of playwright and poet Lermontov, one of the greatest Russian authors. Much of the suite, in addition to a waltz, is rhythmic and in ¾ time. The Mazurka is pleasant and particularly engaging but even some of the bright melody lines have darker moments. Perhaps Toye’s Haunted Ballroom meets Bernstein, and as with the symphony a powerful Andante, ‘On the death of the Poet’ brings weight to the suite.

The four-page booklet could have been better provided with larger type and given eight pages, yet its content provides all that the listener needs. Richard Whitehouse does a sterling job in his description of the Second Symphony, finding fitting adjectives to help us understand the construction of the composition. Naxos has to be congratulated for supporting this difficult work in another worthwhile recording to rival versions by ASV, Chandos, and Decca.

– MusicWeb International (Raymond J Walker)

S. MAYR David in the Cave of Engedi • Franz Hauk (hpd, cond); Merit Ostermann ( David ); Cornelia Horak ( Saul ); Ai Ichihara ( Michal ); Sibylla Duffe ( Jonathan ); Claudia Schneider ( Abner ); Simon Mayr Chorus & Ens • NAXOS 8.570366 (2 CDs: 94:13)


The Bavarian-born Johannes Simon Mayr (1763–1845) is probably most often remembered as the teacher and mentor of Donizetti. Until recently, his own works—more than 60 operas, some 600 liturgical compositions, as well as chamber music and symphonies—have been the realm of specialists. At 24 he abandoned studies in philosophy and law at the University of Ingolstadt to pursue a musical career in Italy. He studied first in Bergamo, then with Bertoni in Venice, where he began writing operas. The second he composed for La Fenice in 1796 was so successful that Mayr became much sought after in the world of Italian opera. The next year, his operas were produced in Vienna, and performances in other European capitals and in the U.S. followed. Despite lucrative offers from Paris, St. Petersburg, Lisbon, Dresden, and London, Mayr preferred to remain in Italy. He settled in Bergamo, establishing a music school, spearheading philanthropies to benefit musicians, and becoming an important champion of the Viennese style south of the Alps.


Mayr wrote his fascinating oratorio David in spelunca Engaddi (“David in the Cave of Engedi”) during his first creative blossoming. It was destined for one of the four Venetian ospedali , those institutions for orphaned or indigent girls where, earlier in the century, Vivaldi had been employed. Characteristically for a work commissioned by the Ospedale dei Mendicanti, its five solo roles, as well as the chorus, are all treble voices. The libretto by Foppa is based on scenes from Samuel I. King Saul is jealous of David, hero of Israel’s wars against the Philistines and tries to kill him. Saul’s son Jonathan and daughter Michal help David, who is able to stay one step ahead of Saul’s operatives. In the wilderness of Engedi, David comes upon Saul asleep in a cave. Though David has ample cause to kill Saul, he spares the king’s life. David’s display of loyalty reconciles Saul with his anointed successor as King of Israel. Though it’s difficult to say what is most striking about this masterful work, certainly character delineation in each principal role is unusually acute. Through the course of the oratorio, their characters develop with a psychological complexity rare in the genre, particularly in the late 18th century. The vocal writing is superb, florid, idiomatic, and deftly evokes the affects of the text.


Despite its economy of means, the choral writing, mostly in two parts, is extremely effective. And in a proto-Wagnerian sense, the orchestra almost becomes a character, its traditional role of accompaniment significantly expanded. Mayr is a deft and resourceful orchestrator. The brief Sinfonia that prefaces the first part of the oratorio is a little gem, worthy of the young Mozart. The Sinfonia that introduces part II, on the other hand, lasts more than five minutes, a virtual one-movement concerto grosso in Classical garb. Bassoons, oboes, horns and, above all, the harp (David’s instrument) interact with the orchestra in brilliant concertante style. Franz Hauk assembled an uncommonly strong group of soloists, each of whom meets Mayr’s vocal and dramatic demands with artistry and sophistication. Chorus and orchestra respond with ensemble cohesion to Hauk’s imaginative direction. The slow sound decay in the Assam Church of Maria de Victoria in Ingolstadt contributes to the near perfect acoustic ambiance with little blurring of detail. Informative notes are contributed by Iris Winkler, though listeners wishing to follow the text must download a 28-page libretto from the Naxos Web site.


Mayr has long been acknowledged as a key transitional figure between 18th- and 19th-century opera, and a potent influence on Rossini as well as Donizetti. But lately, signs of a fully-fledged revival keep cropping up. Opera Rara, the English company, has three complete Mayr operas in its catalog: Ginevra di Scozia (OR 23) and two productions of Medea in Corinto (OR 11 and OR 215). Cantatas (including one on the death of Beethoven) may be heard on Naxos 8.557958 and the oratorio La passione along with a Stabat mater setting are available on Guild 7251. In the instrumental realm, two of Mayr’s piano concertos may be sampled on Tactus 761301. The strong, nuanced performances that breathe life into David in spelunca Engaddi provide a strong argument for further exploration of Mayr’s imaginative and powerful music. They also suggest that a Mayr revival would be welcome and, perhaps, long overdue.


FANFARE: Patrick Rucker

This was the score that, in a sense, started it all. Certainly by 1933 writing music for movies was not new, but Max Steiner's contribution for King Kong was more extensive, more colorful, and more musically integrated than virtually all previous examples. It was the music that took on the responsibility for creating not just atmosphere, but an entire world, and it's no mistake that this pioneering effort occurred in the fantasy/science fiction genre, a field that would be so kind to film music composers in future. To modern ears, Steiner's achievement inevitably pales a bit, just as, say, the thunderstorm in Beethoven's Sixth must yield to the one in Strauss' Alpine Symphony in terms of sheer graphic imagery. The music has a genuine period flavor, with lots of splashy percussion writing for the jungle music and for Kong himself, and true Golden Age strings for Ann Darrow. There's plenty to enjoy, from the Aboriginal Sacrificial Dance, to Stolen Love, and the marvelous extended sequence called Kong Escapes. An essential addition to any serious film music collection, it has all been lovingly restored by John Morgan, performed with gusto by William Stromberg and the Moscow Symphony, and vividly recorded by Naxos (formerly Marco Polo). Now reissued at budget price, this is irresistible. --David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Liszt wrote his A Faust Symphony; Three Character Pictures, Faust, Gretchen and Mephistopheles, after Goethe, in 1854, adding a choral finale three years later, when it was first performed in Weimar. Further revisions took place, with changes introduced even as late as 1880. He transcribed the second Gretchen movement for solo piano, completing it eventually in 1874, and in 1862 published his version of the work for two pianos, revising it in 1870. The subject of Faust, the scholar who sold his soul to the Devil in return for youth and power, had a particular attraction to artists in the nineteenth century, when Faust might appear as a human hero, an opponent of ancient tyrannies, political and religious, and the Devil himself might seem to have similar attractions. Where the Elizabethan version of the story by Christopher Marlowe brought Faust to a medieval Hell, Goethe's monumental and influential poetic treatment of the subject ended in the final redemption of Faust through the power of love and of the woman he had wronged, Gretchen. Liszt based his symphony on the literary work of his great predecessor in Weimar, Goethe, and returned to the subject of Faust in later compositions based on Lenau's Faust, including the Mephisto Waltzes. The second movement, Gretchen, generally lightly scored, starts with a gentle passage, scored originally for flutes and clarinets, followed by the main theme, played by oboe accompanied by solo viola, the two piano version marked Innocente. There is a short passage that represents the scene in the garden when Gretchen plucks the petals of a flower, seeking to know whether Faust loves her or not. A second Gretchen theme is heard, and in the central section of the movement Faust's theme of love appears, and a descending melody associated with Faust's yearning. The agitated theme of Faust's struggle re-appears, now mollified in a gentler mood. This leads to a re-appearance of the Gretchen themes, with the theme of Faust's heroism utterly transformed in conclusion, as the sound dies away. The third part of the Faust Symphony is devoted to the devil, Mephistopheles. Marked Allegro vivace, ironico, it transforms the thematic material of the earlier pictures, in a remarkable scherzo of great power, twisting the material associated with Faust, but allowing Gretchen to overcome the power of evil, when her theme appears in all it's simple purity, after the violence of a fugue, based on a version of the theme associated with the emotions of Faust. The complexities of the movement and the transformation of earlier thematic material defy succinct explanation in a picture that includes only one extraneous thematic element, the 'pride' theme from Liszt's Malédiction for piano and orchestra.

The liner notes of this release compare Alan Rawsthorne (1905–1971) to Brahms in that both composers left their first symphonies until relatively late in life. This implies that Rawsthorne was a meticulous craftsman, which is true, but also that he was awed as Brahms was by the idea of creating a post-Beethoven symphony, for which there is little evidence. In Rawsthorne’s case, a First Symphony was delayed until the composer was 45 because he came late to his trade. He was initially drawn to dentistry, and then to architecture. Rawsthorne was 20 when he entered the Manchester College of Music, and the fact that he afterwards continued his piano studies abroad with the great Egon Petri points to possible attempts at a pedagogic career, or on the concert stage. He returned to Britain in 1932, and moved to London at the age of 30—finally, with the intention of devoting himself to composition.

Rawsthorne’s Symphony No. 1 received its premiere in 1950 after a succession of orchestral works of merit: the Symphonic Studies (1938), the Piano Concerto No. 1 (1942), the Violin Concerto No. 1 (1948), and the Concerto for String Orchestra (1949). The work was hailed in print as “a major event in English musical life,” but had to wait 25 years for its first recording. It is a dense, knotty effort of great seriousness, typical of this composer in its avoidance of flamboyant rhetoric. His Symphony No. 2, subtitled “A Pastoral Symphony,” appeared in 1959: a work of greater transparency and less harmonic ambiguity than the First, with an especially beautiful slow movement and a Puckishly witty scherzo that brings Roussel to mind. The Third Symphony of 1964 is as grim, complex, and harmonically acerbic as the First, but within a less emotionally ambivalent setting, and one that employs more of the tension-release pattern of traditional symphonic development.

Rawsthorne’s style is out of Hindemith, pursuing polytonal pathways through the use of motto themes often presented in different keys, simultaneously. This gives him considerable flexibility of harmonic movement, though the unfluctuating textural intensity of the First Symphony creates an air of stasis. The lighter, more malleable Second is an exceedingly attractive piece, however, while the Third Symphony can be viewed as the First reconsidered from a higher, more experienced vantage point. Through all three works runs a sense of granitic integrity and consummate craft. Rawsthorne can certainly produce an ear-bending tune. His Second Symphony has several memorable ones. But he never relies upon a good melody to carry the weight of his musical argument, and he’s almost certain to put that melody to good contrapuntal use before he’s finished with it.

All three works were last recorded in the late 1970s and released on LP in excellent sound. Those analog performances (with the London Philharmonic in the first two symphonies and the BBC SO, led by Pritchard, Braithwaite, and Del Mar, respectively) were in turn gathered onto Lyrita SRCD291, a recording that may still be found with some foreign distributors. They are attractive readings, with Braithwaite’s Second arguably the best: a finely lyrical performance from an underrated conductor. Yet, all three readings are surpassed by David Lloyd-Jones on this new release. He emphasizes lucid textures and a proper balance of Rawsthorne’s multiple lines. This strengthens the angularity and unsettled quality in the music, giving even the congested First a sense of direction and purpose. The clarity of the digital engineering helps greatly, and the playing of the Bournemouth Symphony is first-rate. This is definitely the album to buy, with a respectful tip of the hat to Naxos for adding it to a fine series on a neglected modern master.

Barry Brenesal, FANFARE

Includes work(s) by Sir John Tavener (Composer), Gerald Finzi. Ensemble: St. John's College Choir, Cambridge. Conductor: Christopher Robinson.
Includes work(s) for choir by Herbert Howells, Sir Edward Elgar. Ensemble: St. John's College Choir, Cambridge. Conductor: Christopher Robinson.
Includes work(s) for chorus by various composers. Ensemble: St. John's College Choir, Cambridge. Conductor: Christopher Robinson.

Impassioned and incisive performances of two of Chausson’s chamber masterworks.

Chausson did not commit himself to a musical career until he was twenty-six years old. The first fruits of that resolution were the fine songs of Op.2 and the Piano Trio Op.3. While the latter work possesses definite structural immaturities and is occasionally melodramatic, it also shows that the composer’s melodic gift and surpassing sense of thematic development were in evidence right from the beginning.

The introduction to Chausson’s Piano Trio is based on two themes that reappear throughout the work, generating other themes and insuring thematic unity. The stormy, almost morose, first movement proper demonstrates the composer’s already distinctive voice, especially in the development. The scherzo second movement has none of the drama of the first, being a rollicking and affectionate parody of the styles of some of the composer’s contemporaries. The massive slow movement starts out in a mood similar to that of the first, but becomes even more elegiac and wistful. The emotional level occasionally becomes strident, but the composer’s sincerity is unquestionable. The animé last movement starts off cheerfully, but themes from the first and third movements keep popping up, increasing the level of seriousness, and the movement ends quite austerely.

By 1889, almost a decade after the Piano Trio, Chausson had reached full artistic maturity. This is evident in the Concert, his best-known chamber work. The piece is not a concerto in the usual sense, but a sort of update of the concerto grosso, with the six instruments combining in different ways as well as playing all together. The first movement’s motto theme undergoes wonderful transformations in combination with a more lyrical second theme. The Sicilienne forms a gentle interlude between the weightier first and third movements, with the latter being something of a lament. The final movement continues the seriousness of its predecessor, but the overall feeling gr adually becomes one of tremendous vitality.

The Meadowmount Trio - their name derives from long-term residence at the music camp of that name - shows a of lot energy in their performance and Eric Larsen is especially to be commended for keeping things moving, although even he flags in the last movement. Larsen and the Meadowmount’s Stephen Shipps join the esteemed Wihan Quartet in the Concert and overall the six players form a cohesive unit, achieving quite a distinctive performance. Recording quality is fairly sumptuous by Naxos standards, although the violins are somewhat shrill. Altogether, a pair of moving and exciting performances.

-- William Kreindler, MusicWeb International

Eugene Zádor was a remarkable colorist and orchestrator whose Hollywood film work was extensive. He described himself as a 'middle of the road extremist'. The Aria and Allegro is a beautifully crafted work brimming with rhythmic energy. Five Contrasts for Orchestra demonstrates his rich sound world at it's most vibrant; film noir jostling with a big-booted country dance. The lighter a Children's Symphony is one of his most popular pieces - communicative, witty, accessible. We also hear two small and captivating evocations of his native Hungary. Mariusz Smolij is a founding member of the Penderecki String Quartet, former artistic director of the Lutosawski Wrocaw Philharmonic and International Festival Wratislavia Cantans, Poland, and currently serves as Music Director of the Acadiana Symphony in Louisiana and Riverside Symphonia in New Jersey.

The viola, with it's plangent tone, subtle sonority and lyrical qualities, is often overshadowed by it's more brilliant-sounding sibling, the violin. An accomplished violist himself, Frank Bridge wrote little solo music for this instrument.

This album was nominated for the 2006 Grammy Award for Best Choral Performance.
Recording information: Warsaw Philharmonic Hall (05/27/2003-06/03/2003).

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REVIEW:

Stylistically speaking, A Polish Requiem is remarkably coherent. Penderecki knows how to handle large choral-orchestral forces, and how to develop long paragraphs and build up to well-calculated climaxes, while drawing on a large stylistic palette. A Polish Requiem may not be without "longueurs", but it nevertheless contains many powerful moments that cannot fail to impress.

The present performance conducted by the ever-faithful Antoni Wit is as fine and assured as one may wish. He draws committed and convincing singing and playing from all concerned, to make the best of this substantial work.

– MusicWeb International

This may not be the most harrowing version of the Eighth, but of its type it's unquestionably a great performance. Often this symphony consists of hair-raising climaxes interspersed between acres of nothingness. Not here. This symphony also is one of Shostakovich's most formally masterly and imaginative, and this performance reminds us in the most compelling way. Petrenko's flowing tempos in the first movement and passacaglia keep the music moving, not lurching, forward at all times. The 25 minutes of the first movement seem to pass by in half that time. Its opening threnody in particular has even more expressive power than usual for being phrased in long melodic arcs that never turn static.

After an aptly gawky scherzo, the toccata is as brilliant and menacing as any (with a dashingly militant central section), but it's the finale that really sets the seal on this performance. The Eighth always is a tough piece to project convincingly, but Petrenko is at his absolute best here, pacing the music perfectly and timing the climax in such a way that (for once) it doesn't sound like a less impressive recapitulation of the first movement--and this isn't because its previous occurrence is underplayed in any way. Excellent playing from all departments of the orchestra plus vividly natural engineering complete what is easily the best installment of this ongoing cycle to date.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

This album was nominated for the 2007 Grammy Award for "Best Instrumental Soloist(s) Performance (without Orchestra)."

Recording information: St John Chrysostom Church, Newmarket, Ontario, Canada (04/23/2009-04/26/2009).

Naxos' Takako Nishizaki Plays Suzuki Evergreens albums feature acclaimed violinist Takako Nishizaki who, as a child, studied with her father, Shinji, and with Shinichi Suzuki himself.

Astor Piazzolla' tangos, beloved around the world for their pathos, passion, longing and sensibility, are here given fresh interpretations in arrangements for piano by the Argentinean-born, Brussels-based pianist Aquiles Delle-Vigne.

It was not until his fifties that the fiercely independent Giorgio Federico Ghedini came to be acknowledged as one of the finest Italian composers of the 20th century. This first of Naxos' two-disc survey of Ghedini' complete piano music begins.

This dazzling collection of flute music demonstrates the powerful individualism of contemporary Greek composers. It ranges widely, from the dirge that incorporates folk material in Theodore Antoniou' Lament for Michelle.

Talk about rotten luck. Naxos has had these performances in the can for a couple of years, and have just released them, hot on the heels of Julia Fischer’s recent Tchaikovsky disc on Pentatone, containing exactly the same programme. The only difference is that Kaler plays Tchaikovsky's Souvenir d’un lieu cher in Glazunov’s orchestration, while Fischer plays the original version for violin and piano.

I fear that in all the excitement over Fischer’s album, Kaler’s will be ignored, and that would be incredibly unfair because this disc is excellent in every way. In fact, Kaler’s account points up the only deficiency in Fischer’s account: a lack of variety to her tone. Kaler's performance is full of contrasts, as he colours the violin line with subtle shading, yet maintains a lyrical virility throughout. It is clear that he has lived with this concerto under his fingertips for many years and that he still finds much to enjoy and inspire in the familiar turns of phrase. There is an artless facility to his playing of the big tunes as in the opening statement of the first movement or in the gorgeous Canzonetta, and a sweetness of tone that is quite disarming. As the violin writing gets busier, Kaler and the orchestra tend to pick up the pace quite significantly, yet the rapid passages are dispatched with effortless brilliance. Kaler's first movement cadenza has plenty of character, freedom and precision. Cadenzas apart, Yablonsky and his orchestra lend sympathetic support. This performance is not so much a full-blooded flood of romanticism as a blossoming account of elegance as well as brilliance. It also wears it war-horse status lightly, impressing itself upon the listener by virtue of its freshness and natural feeling. It is a tremendously satisfying account and one that bears rehearing.

Similar comments apply to the remaining pieces on this album. The quality of the music, both in terms of its inspiration and emotional content, makes this programme apt and it is hard to understand why it is not more common. The Sérénade mélancolique is quite a rarity, but it deserves to be far more popular. It was in fact Tchaikovsky's first piece for solo violin, written to a commission from the great Leopold Auer. The violin's part is so full of longing and achingly beautiful that it is almost a vocalise. There are striking effects of orchestration too, with some magical woodwind interplay underpinning the sighing of the violin.

The Souvenir is, if anything, even more engaging. The first of its three movements was initially intended as the second movement of the violin concerto, with the spakling scherzo and intimate melodie added later. The dark romanticism of Glazunov's orchestration is entirely idiomatic and Kaler's playing is sweet toned and brightly coloured. The little Valse-Scherzo that closes the disc makes an excellent encore and Kaler plays it with gusto.

Microphone placement favours Kaler throughout, but this is generally not overly problematic except for the first movement of the Souvenir where Kaler's breathing is a little distracting. Keith Anderson's liner-notes are up to his usual high standard.

If you are in the market for a new recording of the Tchaikovsky violin concerto this year, have a listen to this one before just buying Fischer’s. You may find, as I did, that you want both.

-- Tim Perry, MusicWeb International

Naxos continues its championing of Hummel with a disc that regrettably also serves as an in memoriam to that fine British violinist Micaela Comberti, one of whose final recordings this must have been. She died at the early age of fifty-one.

We’ve come to admire Hummel’s concertante works recently and recordings of his choral music have opened up hitherto under-explored areas, greatly to our advantage. In fact it might be argued that we are now moving away from Hummel the virtuoso keyboard exponent, so beloved by pianists of the Golden Age, to a reflective transitional period in which his large-scale choral works are increasingly taking their place on the fringes of the canon. And not before time.

Which is not to overlook the reams of chamber music that he wrote throughout his life, and which is the raison d’être of this new release. Hummel was a gloriously fluent composer but that very articulacy could sometimes lead to a preponderance of note-spinning, repetition and a surfeit of what one might call concertante bluffness. That’s certainly the case here but only from time to time.

The Piano Quartet was published posthumously in 1839 and is cast in two movements. There is some languorous phraseology in the opening Andante cantabile, even if the fortepiano does sound rather recessed in this recording spectrum but there’s a concerto-sized Allegro to contrast with it. The string players provide the cushion – and the tuttis – for the sturdily striding piano part – all very attractive if not especially distinctive. The much earlier G major Piano Trio is a suavely laid out three-movement work that reveals Hummel’s consummate professionalism. The over-long opening movement is followed by a Minuet, with plenty of gusto in this performance as Susan Alexander-Max detonates some left-hand fortepiano fillips amidst a certain amount of trenchancy. The Rondo finale is light-hearted with a sparkling piano part - naturally, as Hummel was a leading virtuoso on the instrument - a sliver of a fugato, and a certain Beethovenian feel to some of the piano writing.

In 1826 Hummel completed a Cello Sonata, a big work, romantic, spacious and immediately attractive. The piano part has a touching nobility of expression, but also a welcome incision, one that here tends very occasionally to over-balance the more reticent cello in passagework. Again the material can be over-stretched but it hardly lacks for melodic interest, not least in the lied of the Romance, which possesses a suave beauty - the word ‘suave’ tends to rise unbidden when thinking of Hummel - but also a contrasting declamatory section. Easy-going, and full of strongly accented figures, Banda and Alexander-Max do well by the folk-like pages of the finale in particular, and they complete a successful traversal with a degree of panache.

The F major Trio is the earliest work here, dating from 1807, and reveals the powerful influence of Haydn. From the gemütlich opening, the unrolling fugal passages - which soon give up the ghost - and the variational second movement, this is very much in the Viennese tradition, solidly classical and topped by a fashionable - or maybe just past it - Turkish Rondo finale.

The sonorities evoked by the well-versed ensemble of baroque instrument practitioners are most attractive and add a certain tangy frisson. Sometimes the recording in Weston Parish Church loses a degree of focus and string instruments can be over-balanced by the fortepiano but this doesn’t happen too often. Spirited and lyrical, though not invariably convincing, this is another feather in the Naxos Hummel cap.

-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International

Organ music holds a special affection for leading UK composer Judith Bingham, and the repertoire in this programme reflects a cross-section of her themes and work both recently composed and newly arranged.

For more than two decades before he achieved fame and financial security as England' foremost composer, the young Edward Elgar earned a living as a violinist and violin teacher.

Joaquin Turina made an outstanding contribution to Spanish piano repertoire, along with Falla, Alb'niz, Granados and Mompou.

Dimitri Kabalevsky's First Piano Concerto owes a heck of a lot to Prokofiev's Second--so much so that at times you might think you are listening to that work. But Prokofiev is more formally imaginative, edgier, and more melodically distinctive, and that explains why this Kabalevsky work isn't well known. Every movement goes on a couple of minutes longer than it should--but that said, it's still very listenable and often quite appealing. Pianist In-Ju Bang certainly can't be faulted for any lack of color or character; she brings plenty of freshness and no lack of virtuosity to the part. But this is perhaps better appreciated in the shorter and more distinctive Second Piano Concerto. Here, Bang is at least as interesting as Kathryn Stott on Chandos (though the latter has the more interesting couplings and slightly better sonics). Dmitry Yablonsky and his sometimes hit-or-miss band are in very good form here, in music for which they have a clear affinity. Okay, the music may not be uniformly great, but it's very enjoyable, and so are the performances.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

With this disc, Naxos completes its survey of ballet scores by Sir Arthur Bliss (1891?1975). Previously released were Adam Zero, generously coupled with Bliss?s A Colour Symphony in performances by the English Northern Philharmonia under David Lloyd-Jones (8.553460), and Miracle in the Gorbals, coupled with music from the film Things to Come and Discourse for Orchestra, with Christopher Lyndon-Gee conducting the Queensland Symphony Orchestra (8.553698). In each case, Naxos presents, for the first time, the full ballet scores rather than suites. Much as I have enjoyed recordings of suites from all three ballets, the music is of such a quality, and so symphonic as well as dramatic in concept, that listening to the suites is rather like hearing an abridged Mahler First, or excerpts from Strauss?s Don Quixote: pleasant, but unsatisfactory. The Checkmate Suite recordings I own on CD?Vernon Handley and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic on EMI (1978) and Handley again with the Ulster Orchestra on Chandos (1986)?are excellent as to performance and recording, but sadly incomplete. The suite is the same in both, consisting of six of the first seven numbers, but none of the next five, which include the longest and most dramatic movements in the score. Both conclude with an abbreviated version of the finale.


Checkmate tells a grim story, fantastic in conception: Love and Death play a game of chess, but the pieces are human, and not endowed with equal powers. The Black Queen is beautiful, evil, and powerful; neither the Red King nor his Queen can stand against her. The Red Knight can, but falls under the Black Queen?s enchantment long enough for her to slay him. Naxos provides excellent notes by Andrew Burn, so one can follow this drama to its tragic dénouement. Checkmate had its premiere in Paris in 1937; like the First Symphony of William Walton and the Fourth of Vaughan Williams, Bliss?s score seems especially appropriate to the times. The much shorter Mêlée fantasque (1921), while not exactly cheerful, seems by contrast a robustly optimistic piece, even while memorializing a deceased friend and collaborator, the painter Claude Lovat Fraser.


The Scottish Orchestra plays with its usual energy and brilliance, and the sound is vivid, colorful, and, where appropriate, seismic. What a pleasure, at last to hear the complete Checkmate!


FANFARE: Robert McColley

Although best known for his film music, William Alwyn composed five symphonies (among other concert works). Symphony No. 1 unsurprisingly marries symphonic form to an engaging dramatic narrative. The first movement's slow, quiet introduction is pregnant with anticipation of the conflict to come, while the moving Adagio features one of those irresistibly hummable movie-style tunes. And connoisseurs of classic film cannot help but conjure cinematic images as they listen to Alwyn's triumphant, brassy Allegro jubilante finale. But even without such associations, the First is a fine symphony in its own right.


The three-movement Symphony No. 3 is even more compelling. Alwyn states that he used a "new kind of 12-note system", but the resulting music is certainly not atonal. Indeed, much of it has a modal quality similar to Vaughan Williams--a similarity that extends to the music's formal plan, warlike character, and sometimes even the orchestration (the brass writing in the first movement, and the woodwind/string interplay of the finale's "scherzo" section)--all of which are reminiscent of that composer's Sixth Symphony. But Alwyn's own voice predominates, and the symphony is enjoyable for its powerfully argued rhetoric and taut thematic construction. Conductor David Lloyd-Jones certainly believes in this music, as he demonstrates in these winning performances with the excellent Royal Liverpool Philharmonic. Naxos provides first-rate sound.
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

This fabulous recording features lesser known violin repertoire played with a keen advocacy.

This fabulous recording features lesser known violin repertoire, played with a keen advocacy by soloist Henning Kraggerud and Dalasinfoniettan. Excepting the works of Ole Bull, the remaining pieces were composed between 1910 and 1930. However, none of this music embraces the radically dissonant sounds found in Austrian-Germanic music of this period. Anyone with a love of Holst and Vaughan Williams, Grieg and J.P.E. Hartmann will positively revel in this repertoire.

The CD opens with six modestly arranged Norwegian folksongs by Carl Olsen. The first movement begins with violin alone, played here with great sensitivity and refinement. Olsen ensure that even when the orchestra enters, the melody always stands out, keeping the harmonic writing fairly simple so that it compliments, rather than competes, with the melody. Throughout these songs, Kraggerud’s sound is burnished and rich, varying his vibrato to give greater shape and ardor to his phrasing, while the orchestra led by Bjarte Engeset, prove to be equally sensitive partners.

Atterberg’s Suite No. 3 was originally intended for a violin and viola soloist; this arrangement, for two violins, is its premiere recording. Both solo parts are played by Kraggerud, and while there is nothing to fault in his playing or in the engineer’s dubbing, I found myself resistant to this idea, as I would have liked to hear him interact with another player. Nevertheless, the playing is stunningly beautiful, the forlorn atmosphere of the first two movements gently dispelled by the final movement’s more uplifting waltz.

The Two Sentimental Romances very much reminded me of Vaughan Williams, in both their use of modes and constantly shifting textures. The first Romance, in A Major, is bright and inviting, a perfect evocation of a beautiful summer day, while the second F-minor Romance, marked Allegro patetico, brings greater intensity and a return to that forlorn atmosphere that many Nordic composers easily inhabit.

Ole Bull was considered the “Nordic Paganini”, well known not only for his great virtuosity but also his improvisational abilities. Memories of Havana was composed during Bull’s 1844 tour of Cuba. The score and solo part are lost, but a complete set of orchestral parts survives, so Kraggerud has reconstructed the solo part. The work’s structure is similar to Enescu’s Romanian Rhapsodies: several sections based on a national folk tune, connected by interlude material that is meant to give the listener (and performers) a break between moments of virtuosic writing. Mountain Vision features a tune by Bull that became incredibly popular in Norway, so much so that a text was written for the tune, called “The Herdgirl’s Sunday.” Similarly structured, the work includes not only includes Bull’s melody, but four other folk tunes. Both are performed with plenty of fire and beauty, without ever becoming over sentimentalized.

The final selections feature the music by the better known composers, Halvorsen, Sibelius and Sinding. Halvorsen’s Norwegian Dance No. 3, as the title suggests, is predominantly light-hearted and joyful in its outer sections, though the middle section features gentler, less rhythmic music that features a long-breathed, arching melody. Sibelius’s Six Humoresques express what the composer called “the sadness of living a life that was only occasionally illuminated by the sun”. These are performances of great sophistication and delicate beauty, more affecting that the rather heavy-handed treatment they receive in the Mutter/Staatskappelle/Previn 1996 DG recording.

Evening Mood clearly shows the influence of Sinding’s four years of study in Leipzig, featuring warmth of color that gently dispels the somewhat despondent mood of the previous Sibelius set, making for a satisfying hour plus of gorgeous music-making.

The recording itself is truly excellent, the soloist well integrated into the sound-picture. The engineers have fully captured the room’s warm ambience without any loss of clarity and there is a good front to back perspective. Notes are excellent and informative, but printed in a font size that might actually be in negative numbers. I look forward to more recordings from these performers.

David A. McConnell , MusicWeb International

This disc brings us three of Vaughan Williams?s finest song cycles, and the single song Linden Lea , and the combination is very satisfying. Vaughan Williams wrote some of the 20th century?s most beautiful and evocative songs, songs that sound like no other composer and that stay long in the memory after one gets to know them. Vaughan Williams had a keen ear for text-setting, and is one of the rare 20th-century composers whose music amplifies the poems he set without overwhelming them.


This is a lovely compilation, featuring some of the composer?s most effective works in this form. The performances are very good, without erasing the best competition from one?s mind. Roderick Williams is an intelligent and musical singer, with a pleasant light baritone voice. The tone is a bit throaty, but not offensively so, and he sings with a reasonably strong feel for dramatic inflection. There is no question that those who find this repertoire appealing will enjoy this disc, although Naxos could have helped improve that enjoyment by providing texts.


It is when we start comparing with the best competition that the limitations of these performances become clear. Benjamin Luxon?s richly colored and imaginatively inflected performances of the Songs of Travel and Poems by Fredegond Shove (Chandos CHAN 8475), Anthony Rolfe Johnson?s similarly effective recording of the Songs of Travel and The House of Life (EMI 75785) are both more satisfying recordings, not to mention Bryn Terfel?s remarkable reading of the Songs of Travel (DG 445 946), which is coupled with other English songs.


Still, if you own none of this repertoire and find this particular compilation an effective program, Williams and Burnside give good, solid performances that make clear the composer?s genius in this idiom.


FANFARE: Henry Fogel

Includes work(s) by Ferdinand Ries. Ensemble: New Zealand Symphony Orchestra. Conductor: Uwe Grodd. Soloist: Christopher Hinterhuber.

This release champions two relatively unknown Neapolitan composers. Mario Pilati’s style was described by musicologist Gianandrea Gavazzeni as “southern Baroque, full of songlike whims and lively impulses”, and the rhythmically vital and deeply expressive Piano Quintet of 1927–28 is one of his most important early pieces. Pianist Aldo Ciccolini was one of Achille Longo’s favorite pupils as a child, and his close association with the healthily eclectic Quintet brings a special warmth to its rich timbres and joyously refined nuances. The Circolo Artistico Ensemble specializes in the revival of the unpublished work of Italian composers.