A wonderful introduction to this amazing composer’s music.

With over 500 works to his name Alan Hovhaness may well be the most prolific American composer as well as one of the most fascinating. His music cannot be pigeonholed since he drew influences from so many varied sources. That said, above all, he insisted on melody, having roundly rejected the path of ‘modernism’ that many others followed in the 20 ^th century. Among those influences was his Armenian heritage inherited through his father. These are very much to the fore in his First Symphony subtitled Exile which references the plight of Armenians who were forced to flee in their millions in the face of an onslaught by Ottoman Turks during the First World War. Lovers of big tunes will revel in the lush sonorities on display. They’re in evidence right from the first notes. These are given to the clarinet which introduces a plaintive tune taken up by other woodwind with the orchestra continuing the Middle Eastern-sounding scales and the music becoming disturbed and agitated. The second, short movement marked Grazioso is further demonstration of the melodies for which Hovhaness is rightly renowned. Woodwind sings out against a background of pizzicato from strings and harp. This allows for an interlude of calm before the third and final movement brings us back to agitation. Driving strings and winds recall the opening theme in chorale form which then becomes the main focus of the orchestra. The powerfully expressed message is that a whole people cannot be suppressed. Its spirit will reassert itself and prevail against all the odds.
 
One of the other influences Hovhaness exploits is his love and reverence of the music of the Far East, particularly Japan and Korea, having studied both. The second work, Fantasy on Japanese Woodprints, has a title that allows him to explore his own impressions of the music from this part of the world. It involves extremely creative ways of approximating the sounds of Japan through clever and inventive use of the instruments of a Western orchestra. The marimba is the instrument of choice to carry the main theme against a background of orchestral experimentation creating a convincing and effective ‘Japanese’ sound for Western ears.
 
Yet another influence which has shown itself in many of Hovhaness’s compositions are mountains. He once wrote “Mountains are symbols, like pyramids, of man’s attempt to know God. Mountains are symbolic meeting places between the mundane and spiritual worlds”. It was a natural thing therefore to have been moved to write a symphony that expresses those ideas following the huge explosion of Mount Saint Helens in Washington State in 1980. The first movement sets the scene and pays reverence to the majesty and mystery of the mountain through use of gorgeous harmonically and melodically rich tunes. These emphasise the mountain’s imperious eminence over its surroundings and its naturally serene nature prior to its being geographically changed by the explosion. The second movement is also calm since it describes the fabulous Spirit Lake in whose waters the mountain was often magically mirrored. Once again Hovhaness uses Japanese-sounding melodies to create the air of mystery and natural beauty of a place which was obliterated by the explosion. The finale opens with an almost hymn-like theme from the strings with tubular bells in the background. A sole flute precedes a representation of the cataclysmic events that rent the mountain asunder, and which continues for much of the movement’s 14 minutes. This musical depiction of the destructive power of nature is extremely potent with plenty of work for bass drums and gong as wave after wave of explosions tear the very fabric of the ground on which the mountain stood. Finally the opening hymn returns to re-establish a measure of calm. Hovhaness doesn’t end the symphony there. Instead he creates a coda to signify the “youthful power and grandeur of the Cascades Mountains” that, as he said, renews the vitality of “our peaceful planet, the living earth, the life-giving force building the majestic Cascades Mountains (,) rising, piercing the clouds of heaven”. This symphony represents an extremely satisfying journey that shows the composer’s unique view of how to use music to describe nature in all its creative as well as destructive power. The disc as a whole is a wonderful introduction to this amazing composer’s music that I for one am only beginning to discover. More of Hovhaness’s works are being recorded all the time. With 67 symphonies alone there’s plenty left to record and to discover and that’s an exciting prospect. Gerard Schwarz is a great advocate of American music and he and his orchestra help do the kind of justice Hovhaness deserves. Ron Johnson does a sterling job on the marimba in the disc’s second work. These recordings were originally made by Delos and they offer an extremely rewarding experience for a whole new audience to discover and revel in.
 
-- Steve Arloff , MusicWeb International

Konstantin Scherbakov's 24 Shostakovich Preludes and Fugues leapfrog to the head of a small yet distinguished class on disc, whose valedictorians include Tatiana Nikolaeva and Vladimir Ashkenazy. Time and again I am struck by expressive and textural novelties that inevitably result from Scherbakov's fastidious adherence to Shostakovich's markings. The pianist connects the A minor Prelude's scurrying 16th-notes with a seamless legato that still manages to allow each one to speak softly. He treats the D major Prelude's right-hand arpeggiated chords in a slightly detached manner in order to offset the left hand's cello-like legato line. In the F-sharp minor Fugue Scherbakov takes special care to differentiate the levels of soft dynamics. He maintains Fugue No. 15's marcatissimo directive with unyielding vehemence, while effortlessly clarifying the difficult-to-disentangle voices.


Those familiar with Nikolaeva's freer treatment of the 16th fugue's elaborate subject will be surprised at the profile and contrast it acquires when played in strict time, as Scherbakov does. As a result, the uneven duplets truly stand out from the even ones. On the other hand, the 14th Prelude's tremolos sometimes threaten to cover the melodic material. Here both Nikolaeva and the composer relegate these tremolos to a spooky background murmur, and make more of the motto theme's tenutos. And Scherbakov sometimes plays down Shostakovich's edgy humor. Yet these quibbles are about aesthetic choices, not interpretive faults, and really don't matter in the larger context of Scherbakov's achievement. His interpretations are thought out, deeply pondered, prepared to the nth degree, and played with a perfect fusion of technique and soul. Even listeners who consider these works arid and somewhat pedantic will change their minds after hearing Scherbakov. A triumph.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

The Phoenix, co-commissioned by the Seattle Symphony and Danish National Symphony Orchestra, was inspired by a Hans Christian Andersen tale, the mythical bird symbolizing for Chinese-American composer Bright Sheng "the muse of all peoples."

This second volume in the Naxos series of Buxtehude’s vocal music was previously issued on Dacapo (Dacapo 8.224160). It is made up of four sacred cantatas – and one ‘interloper’, a setting of the Magnificat mistakenly identified as Buxtehude’s back in 1931 by Bruno Grusnick, but pretty certainly not his.

The four cantatas give us the chance to hear Buxtehude employing a variety of strategies.

Das neugeborne Kindelein sets the four verses of a Christmas hymn first published in 1588 by Cyriacus Schneegass (1546-1597), German hymn-writer, composer and music theorist. The words have a simple radiance, each of the four stanzas made up of four lines rhymed aabb. Buxtehude treats them interestingly; he adopts different approaches for each of the four stanzas. In the first he sets the opening three lines, the initial announcement of the recurrent ‘new’ birth of Christ and its significance, relatively plainly, allowing the words to dominate and hold the attention. Then, as if to celebrate the significance of the words of proclamation, the final line of Schneegass’s first stanza is richly elaborated through repetition and contrapuntal echo. Between each stanza we get an instrumental ritornello and after its first return, the second stanza offers yet more vocal elaboration and responds beautifully to the text’s assertion that the angels are singing in the sky, a response heightened by a greater use of instrumental accompaniment interwoven with the vocal phrases than was allowed to happen in the first stanza. The third stanza speaks of the battle against “Teufel, Welt und Höllenpfort” and the sense of conflict is heightened by much greater use of instrumental interjections which break up the vocal phrases and the lines of the verse. In the fourth stanza, as the text grows to a full realisation that the birth of “das Jesuslein” guarantees the possibility of human salvation, the musical metre changes and the instruments and voices work more obviously together, so that verse, voice and instruments embody, in their new relationship, the transformation into coherent meaning of which the hymn speaks. Buxtehude, in short, has integrated text, singers and instrumental ensemble with a completeness of achieved purpose that makes Das neugeborne Kindelein a minor masterpiece.

In Der Herr ist mit mir the text is taken from the Psalms (Psalm 118 verses 6-7). In the Authorized Version it reads thus: “The Lord is on my side; I will not fear: what can man do unto me. The Lord taketh my part with them that help me: therefore shall I see my desire upon them that hate me”. To the German translation of these verses is added a concluding ‘Hallelujah’. Buxtehude sets the Psalm text in predominantly homophonic fashion, the text remaining clearly and emphatically audible, its meaning emphasised by some patterned rhythmic and harmonic touches. With the ‘Hallelujah’ Buxtehude launches into a virtuoso ciacona made up of nineteen variations over two-bar ostinato bass. The contrast with what has gone before is startling and exciting.

The most dramatically expressive work here is Fürwahr, er trug unsere Krankheit, setting verses from Isaiah prophetic of the crucifixion. There is some powerful instrumental writing and Buxtehude’s music articulates a powerful response to the idea of the Passion; the writing, both for the bass soloist and for the chorus, as well as for the sections of the chorus, is consistently intense and moving. The response to the imagery of Christ’s wounds and “stripes” is especially poignant. Fürwahr, er trug unsere Krankheit is a fine piece, full of sustained melodies and aching harmonies, and it comes off particularly well in this recording.

Alles, was ihr tut is perhaps the most familiar of these four cantatas. It is an exhortation to ensure that (in the words of the Epistle to the Colossians) “whatsoever ye do in word or deed, [ye] do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the father by him”, as well as a petition that God might assist both individual and community. Buxtehude fruitfully juxtaposes elements of the sacred concerto and the aria, as well as the setting of a chorale text to an already existing melody; homophonic passages and contrapuntal writing are employed by turns; the interplay of instruments and voices is always effective and interesting. In passing phrases – both textual and musical – between soloist and chorus, Buxtehude seems to offer an artistic statement as to the proper relationship between the individual and the community in a Christian society. The whole work breathes an untroubled faith and the continuo work from the Dufay Ensemble is particularly striking here.

The external evidence makes it unlikely that the Magnificat is Buxtehude’s; although one copy of the work was found in the collection of Buxtehude’s friend Gustav Düben, who certainly owned copies of works by Buxtehude, it has to be said that he also owned works by other composers too; other surviving copies of this setting come from areas of Europe where Buxtehude is not known to have had any connections. Nor, indeed, does it really sound like Buxtehude; it lacks the subtlety and inventiveness of Buxtehude at anything like his best. It is pleasant but undistinguished and is perhaps best attributed to that old favourite ‘Anon’.

These are not perfect performances. The closing ‘Hallelujah’ of Der Herr ist mit mir hasn’t quite the brilliance and lightness of touch that the music deserves; Johan Reuter’s bass, though tonally very apt and attractive, isn’t quite as expressive as one might wish; just now and then, by the highest standards, the voices of one or two of the choir’s soloists sound overtaxed. On the other hand, the Choir as a whole sings beautifully, their work tonally lovely, their diction exemplary. The performances are certainly plenty good enough to give the hearer a pretty good idea of just how fine this music is.

-- Glyn Pursglove, MusicWeb International

John Cage's remarkable magnum opus A Book of Music for two prepared pianos is brought together here with his complete works for toy piano. Intricately structured according to Cage's ideas about Mozart, A Book of Music is an eloquent and virtuoso mosaic of driving and sometimes frenetic rhythms, the exotic sounds of the 'prepared' piano strings transporting the listener into worlds of the strangest imagining. The Suite for Toy Piano is a modest miracle of precise expression and the first ever serious concert music written for this instrument, while Music for Amplified Toy Pianos is composed using chance elements, generating a spacious field of sound filled with surprise.

These world premiere recordings bring together several works from American composer Carson Cooman' Nantucket Dreaming cycle, a series of compositions inspired by the island' landmarks and landscape.

Peter Mennin was a leading member of the school of American symphonic composers who came of age in the 1930s and 1940s, a group that includes David Diamond, William Schuman and others. Cast in a traditional design of three movements in a fast-slow-fast pattern, Symphony No 3 is a work of great contrapuntal energy, percussive accents and propulsive rhythms. The composer described the passionate slow movement as “an extended song…making use of sustained voice-weaving.” Symphony No 7 develops in a single movement of remarkable contrasts and intensity. An exception to Mennin’s “pure” compositional approach, the concertato Moby Dick depicts “the emotional impact of the novel as a whole.” This recording has been acclaimed as “a fine tribute to an inexplicably neglected figure of the century’s American music scene”. - Chicago Tribune

"...along with Symphony No. 7 of Peter Mennin...may be the greatest of all American Traditionalist symphonies." - Walter Simmons, Voices in the Wilderness, page 377, (describing both the Symphony No. 1 of Nicolas Flagello and the Symphony No. 7 of Peter Mennin.)

Brahms: Piano Concerto No. 2 - Schumann: Introduction and Al

The generation of composers that proved so influential in mid-20th c. America included Roger Sessions, Howard Hanson, Roy Harris and Quincy Porter. Porter's much-admired orchestral music is marked by originality in it's absorption of neo-classicism, but his series of nine string quartets also represents an important contribution to the genre. Quartets Nos. 5 to 8 are the works of a composer who had been a professional string player in the 1920s and are marked by rhythmic sophistication and melodic tension. Inspired by the unique temperament of composer Charles Ives, the Ives Quartet is acclaimed for reveling in the unfamiliar and championing an eclectic repertoire, mixing established masterworks with neglected compositions of early-20th c. America, and commissioned new pieces. 'A very enjoyable disc which whets one's appetite for the remaining five quartets.' - Penguin Guide on Volume 1 (8.559305).

Ned Rorem describes this performance of his Double Concerto for Violin and Cello as "perfect", so it would be presumptuous to challenge his opinion of it technically. Certainly the playing of Jaime Laredo and Sharon Robinson is excellent, as is that of the IRIS Orchestra under Michael Stern. Like some of Rorem's other concertante works, this takes the form of a series of short movements, eight in all, save that one of them (Conversation at Midnight) isn't so short, lasting for nearly a quarter of an hour, or about half the concerto's total time. The two soloists offer admirably focused playing here, with a real feeling of dialog both between themselves and with the orchestra. The scoring is Spartan--strings, eight woodwinds, and four brass--but there's no lack of color or incident. In short, this is a lovely addition to the string concerto repertoire, and a terrific piece for chamber orchestras to consider programming.

What keeps this disc from getting the highest rating is an admittedly personal issue, one that you may not share. After Reading Shakespeare, a suite for solo cello, was also written for Sharon Robinson, and it is very sympathetically performed (listen, for example, to how vividly she characterizes "Titania and Oberon"). Nevertheless, the pairing of an orchestral piece with this most chamber-like of chamber compositions strikes me as unconvincing, coming as it does after the concerto. In his notes Rorem emphasizes the fact that the movement titles of this piece should not be taken literally, the music having preceded some of them. If so, then why use them at all? And why suggest as opening and closing movements such weighty subjects as "Lear" and "Othello and Iago"? They really beg the question of whether or not Rorem's inspiration is up to Shakespeare's, and we don't want to go there, do we? There are times when composers might do better to resist the temptation to offer verbal clues, even if they are perfectly valid ones. Still and all, the music and performances themselves are self-recommending to the composer's many admirers, and on that basis I can recommend this fine new release without further qualification.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Giles Farnaby' compositions comprise no less than one-sixth of the contents of the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book, an immense anthology of keyboard works by the English virginalists. These pieces firmly establish Farnaby in the esteemed company of Byrd, Bull.

Leonardo Balada, the Catalan composer who went to New York in 1956 to study composition, has been a powerful creative force for more than three decades. These accessible and stimulating pieces span the composer' career.

The unique qualities of the American trumpet tradition are celebrated in this wide-ranging disc. From the drama of Leo Eylar's dazzling Dance Suite to the wit of William McKinley's Miniature Portraits, virtuosity and brilliance are assured. The two songs from Sondheim's musical Sweeney Todd, orchestrated by McKinley with the composer's consent, convey a quality of ardent determination. Jeffrey Silberschlag is the dedicatee of a number of these works and he carries on the illustrious lineage of American trumpeters. He is partnered by Gerard Schwarz, himself one of the great trumpeters of his generation, before turning to conducting.

Gerard Schwarz starts Daphnis et Chloé in a very slow tempo that suggests a funeral procession, but then takes the following Danse religieuse surprisingly quickly. Such extremes of tempo—he runs the concluding Bacchanale at such a blazing pace that you can hardly imagine ballet dancers being able to keep up—tends to draw attention more to the conductor than to the music. Still, Schwarz manages to conjure the enchanted atmosphere of the piece (especially in the more exotic passages) with great help from the Seattle Symphony, which plays marvelously—particularly the strings with their beguilingly silken tone.

Schwarz emphasizes the score’s refined textures, making the piece sound more like the 20th-century work that it is, rather than a backward glance at Rimsky-Korsakov (as others, mostly notably Gergiev, do). The recorded sound is splendid, easily capturing fine details in the wide dynamic range (even if the wind machine is less than ideally audible).

Following Ravel’s Daphnis et Chloé with Hovhaness’ similarly Greek-themed Meditation on Orpheus is a clever bit of programming. It’s a beautiful and mesmerizing work that mixes the meditative and the rhapsodic in that quintessentially Hovhanessian manner. Schwarz and his orchestra offer a brilliantly realized and impeccably played performance. Not a disc to replace Munch or Boulez, but still a fine choice.

– Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

Aaron Copland wrote his rarely-heard ballet Hear Ye! Hear Ye! for Ruth Page, the dancer and choreographer who was to become the Grande Dame of American ballet. Its scenario is a murder in a nightclub and the ensuing trial in a Chicago courtroom. Copland infused the score with the spirit of his jazz-influenced pieces, controversially distorting part of the National Anthem, and infiltrating music from some of his earlier works. In complete contrast, Appalachian Spring is his most famous work, a true American masterpiece founded on transfigured dance tunes and song melodies.

J. W. STAMITZ Flute Concertos: in D; in C; in D; in G • Robert Aitken (fl); Donatas Katkus, cond; St. Christopher CO • NAXOS 8.570150 (69:15)


The music of Johann Stamitz (1717–57) is largely known through a handful of works. For clarinetists, the B? Concerto is arguably one of (if not the) earliest written for the instrument that uses both the upper clarion and the lower chalumeau registers, and thus earns its reputation for its modernity. Orchestral trios foreshadow the emerging symphony; and his later works, including the La melodia germanica series published in Paris in 1756, not only are some of the earliest to establish the four-movement conventional symphonic pattern, but they also popularized the orchestral effects associated with the Mannheim orchestra, of which Stamitz was the concertmaster. These include rapid scales (the so-called coup d’archet ), the layered crescendo (the original Mannheim steamroller), and the rapidly ascending triads known as the Mannheim rocket. Less well known is the fact that he was a prolific composer, who, in his position, was able to experiment with the capabilities of his instruments, the various textures that could be obtained, and with form and structure. As a result, his efforts had far-reaching impacts upon the music and composers that followed him.


Stamitz was active during a period that one either can characterize as galant or (to borrow a term from literature) empfindsam . Both of these are tricky to translate accurately in musical terms, the former meaning something like “polite” or “well bred” and the latter “emotional” or “sensitive” (and there are other words that work as well). But what it really means for the listener is that there is a new sense of freedom to explore the capabilities of the music, to play with rhythm and contrast, and to develop new genres and styles. This disc presents four of his flute concertos, probably written for Johann Baptist Wendling, a flutist who was arguably one of the best of the entire century. Considering that the instrument was made of wood and had only a couple of keys, both the tone production and technical capability was limited, making the instrument more appropriate to chamber work than playing versus an orchestra, particularly one the size and power of Mannheim. In all four works, Stamitz demonstrates a skill that focuses on a dazzling display of technical virtuosity that is rarely overshadowed by the accompaniment. Even when he adds horns, as he does in the two D-Major concertos, the use is sensitive to the overall sonority. As for the flute part itself, if the listener, spoiled by the long, lyrical lines and regular phrases of the two Mozart pieces, seeks such in these works, disappointment will follow. Instead, there is a virtual compendium of pyrotechnics that leaves the listener breathless (not to mention the poor flutist). Rapid runs, leaps between registers, perpetual-motion figuration, and the rapid oscillation between duple and triple rhythms make this a flute virtuoso’s delight, as these works push the envelope of what is technically possible with the instrument. Moreover, in the C-Major Concerto, even the orchestral ritornello is technically demanding for the strings. These are not student works, but require the utmost of agility and ability to perform.


Aitken, fortunately, is quite up to the task. He takes the break-neck tempos of the opening movements with apparent ease and clarity of tone, allowing the display to come through. In the slow movements, he pulls back the throttle, but never enough to dull the sometimes-sensitive lyrical writing. For instance, in the C-Major Concerto, the second movement’s minor key, replete with echo effects, is delineated with precision and displays considerable musical deftness. In the G-Major final movement, he allows for the folk-like main theme to peer through the leaps and runs, providing a contrast that is both pleasing and a welcome relief to the pyrotechnics. Only occasionally does he blur his scales and leaps, though this may be an aftereffect of using a modern instrument.


The Lithuanian St. Christopher group provides a precise and understated accompaniment. One might have wished for more presence in the recording, but perhaps this was a decision by the sound engineer to focus on the flute. It is true that the music on this disc is mostly all about the flute and its ability, and this lends a certain sameness to each of the concertos, but if one concentrates upon the remarkable technical display, then one will find a perfect example of what can happen when a composer of this pivotal period pushes the aerobatic envelope of a more reticent and intimate instrument. We would be lucky to have the remaining 10 recorded in the future. Highly recommended.


FANFARE: Bertil van Boer


Johann Stamitz is a name well known in musical history, but his voice is seldom heard. This latest Naxos disc of flute concertos - two volumes of symphonies and one of orchestral trios are already available - is therefore a welcome release.

Famous as a virtuoso violinist and then as Kapellmeister of the celebrated Mannheim court orchestra, Stamitz presided over the establishment of that band of players and over the development of what became the ‘Mannheim style’ – disciplined playing, thrilling dynamics and innovative instrumentation. He played a key role in developing the symphonic form, and in transforming musical composition from the Baroque style to the nascent Classical sound.

As well as symphonies, Stamitz left behind a large number of concertos, including fourteen for flute. The four featured on this disc probably date from the 1750s and may well have been played by the Elector Carl Theodor, and by Mannheim virtuoso Johann Baptist Wendling, who so impressed Mozart on his visit to Paris in 1763 and Mannheim in 1777-78.

They are beautiful works, but the main problem is that there is little to distinguish one from the other. The two D major concertos in particular sound very much alike, although the horn parts in the second at least differentiate it from it predecessor. The C major concerto’s shift into C minor for the slow Andante offers some tonal variety, while rapid triplet figures for the soloist in the first movement keep the momentum alive.

But one cannot escape the feeling that these works were really vehicles for Wendling’s – or someone else’s – prodigious talents. Attention therefore falls on soloist Robert Aitken. His flawless technique and lightness of touch make him perfectly suited to this kind of repertoire. He is particularly impressive in the hugely demanding cadenzas in each concerto, although his forward positioning in the recording can make the flute sound a little shrill on the ear in some of the higher registers.

For their part, the St Christopher (formerly Vilnius) Chamber Orchestra under Donatus Katkus have few opportunities to shine. Nevertheless, they keep the accompaniment chugging along nicely, hinting at Haydnesque and Mozartian sounds to come.

-- John-Pierre Joyce, MusicWeb International

KREUTZER Violin Concertos: No. 17 in G; No. 18 in e; No. 19 in d • Axel Strauss (vn); Andrew Mogrelia, cond; San Francisco Conservatory O • NAXOS 8570380 (71: 52)


From a position of relative neglect (only his 40 studies for violin remained really active in the repertoire), Rodolphe Kreutzer has risen to greater prominence with recordings of his studies (by Elizabeth Wallfisch, cpo 999901, Fanfare 32:5) and concertos (No. 19 in D Minor, No. 18 in E Minor, and No. 15 in A Major, with violinist Laurent Albrecht Breuninger and Alun Francis conducting the SWR Radio Orchestra Kaiserlautern, on cpo 777188, Fanfare 33:6; and No. 9 in E Minor, No. 13 in D Major, the Variations on “Nel cor più non mi sento,” and Montanyas Regaladas , with violinist Saskia Lethiec and José Ferreira Lobo conducting the Orquestra do Norte, Porto, and the Versailles Conservatory Instrumental Ensemble, Talent 2911 126, Fanfare 33:1) now being frequently issued. In fact, Breuninger’s recording included Kreutzer’s last two concertos, the 18th and 19th, which Axel Strauss now offers along with the roughly contemporaneous 17th.


The slow movement of Kreutzer’s 17th concerto provides ample—and poignant—melodic relief from the bold thematic statements and technical passagework that mark much of its first movement. If Giovanni Battista Viotti, who’s often linked with Kreutzer (the French “Viotti-Rode-Kreutzer Concerto”) introduced Haydn’s symphonic orchestration into the violin concerto’s armamentarium, Kreutzer approached the sound of Beethoven’s orchestra, as Bruce R. Schueneman’s notes point out. But Kreutzer kept the violin at the forefront, a position that Axel Strauss and his 1845 J. F. Pressenda violin commandingly occupy. He’s snappy and alert in the passagework, as well, delivering impressive barrages of double-stops and sharply characterizing, both stylistically and rhythmically, the Rondo finale’s thematic material. And, as in the first movement’s second theme, he imparts an almost nostalgic sweetness to his reading of the second movement. Those who expect a clone of Viotti’s more familiar concertos (a greater number of them have remained in print) may be pleasantly surprised by Kreutzer’s inventiveness and keen ear for orchestral timbres.


The 18th and 19th concertos begin with Moderato movements, both almost double the length of the six-odd-minute affair that opens the 17th Concerto. As does the 17th, the 18th begins with a movement that explores the passagework, notably in double-stops, that must have stood near the avant garde of violinists’ technical capabilities at the time Kreutzer wrote it; although hardly a virtuoso vehicle in today’s terms, it exploits the instrument’s idiomatic possibilities with a canniness that the trailblazing composers of the era seemed to possess in abundance (else, how could the violin have achieved the prominence it did?), presenting them in the context of dramatic orchestral statements and barnstorming tuttis. Strauss hardly plays this work, or the 17th Concerto, for that matter, dismissively, as many might do (hear how seriously he takes the recitative passages in the middle of the first movement); perhaps the sense of history developed by period instrumentalists has opened the eyes even of world-weary and everything-but-masterpiece-disdaining conservatory students to the merits of compositions like this one. Strauss once again brings a plausible plaintiveness to the second movement with its melody flowing over a light accompaniment and an exuberant if dignified vitality to the final Rondo. Like the first movement of the 17th Concerto, that of the 19th (which Schueneman cites Boris Schwarz as considering, with Viotti’s celebrated 22nd, as one of the outstanding examples of the French Violin Concerto—Joachim admired these two concertos as well, placing Viotti’s just after Beethoven’s and ahead of Mendelssohn’s and Brahms’s) develops the contrast between the lyrical and the dramatic, which continues, in its way, into the second movement, while the finale provides the usual good-natured conclusion (often, as here, with the principal theme in dotted rhythms).


Those who consider Kreutzer’s studies mere drudgery that a violinist has to endure on the way to the Paganini caprices should discover in these concertos, as well as in the others that have been recorded, a composer of unsuspected talent, even one worthy of Beethoven’s dedication of the famous Ninth Sonata. The engineers have placed the violin in the forefront of the San Francisco Conservatory Orchestra, which plays with vibrant and sonorous enthusiasm. Strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

The Kodály and Auer Quartets join forces to produce these exceptionally enjoyable performances of the Mendelssohn and Bruch Octets (the latter joined by Zsolt Fejérvári on the double bass). The combined ensembles sound of uniform mind and spirit in both works, playing with a sense of joyous abandon in the Mendelssohn and sinewy vigor in the Bruch. The rich string tone lends an ingratiating warmth to the collective sound, while the players' impeccable musicianship assures that every note registers, even in the many rapid ostinatos that comprise much of the Mendelsson. The Kodály and Auer play from the heart as well as the head, certainly so in their delicate phrasing in the tender slow movements. Naxos' close-perspective recording keeps the performers at a comfortable distance while providing ample space for the string timbres to naturally resonate. This one's an easy recommendation: beautiful, stimulating music, marvelous performances, and excellent recording all at the Naxos price. What more could you ask for?

--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

Renowned for its luminosity and searing expressiveness, the music of Lithuanian composer P?teris Vasks frequently explores the relationship between nature and humanity, not least in the Flute Concerto written for Michael Faust, which is among the most expansive of Vasks’ orchestral works. Abstract qualities in the Sonata contrast with the deftly defined lyrical and rhythmic elements of Aria e danza, while Landscape with Birds exploits the entirety of the flute’s timbral range. Patrick Gallois and “the brilliant Michael Faust” (MusicWeb International) have also recorded the music of Mauricio Kagel (Naxos 8.572635).

Naxos’ ongoing complete Liszt piano music cycle reaches Volume 37 with the rarely heard first versions of three Petrarca Sonnets and Venezia e Napoli. The latter’s original incarnation included four rather than three movements. The opening movement features material that Liszt later recycled for his symphonic poem Tasso, with a middle section packed with scintillating arpeggios and rapid unison passages. It is followed by a brief declamatory movement, and then an Andante placido that would grow more elaborate, decorative, fluid, and imaginative as Gondoliera in the revised suite. Similarly, the later Tarantella is tighter and more dramatically cogent than its more diffuse yet no less demanding earlier counterpart. Among the three earlier Petrarca pieces, Sonetto No. 104’s differences particularly stand out from its later, more familiar revision, notably in a long, brooding introduction that Liszt replaced with the terser, agitated short phrases we know today.

Making his Naxos label debut, pianist Jue Wang plays best when his hands are fully occupied, as in the Tarantella’s bravura climaxes and long stretches of repeated notes, although Leslie Howard shapes the slower, rhetorical passagework with a stronger sense of the music’s declamatory nature and dynamic contrasts. While Wang captures the unquiet undercurrents of Schlaflos Frage und Antwort, his relatively heavy touch and general loudness take a back seat to Alfred Brendel’s faster and texturally clearer account on his Philips recording.

However, Wang’s light and supple Toccata points up the work’s foreshadowing similar textures and harmonic ambiguities of Debussy and Bartók. He tosses off the brief, flashy Galop de bal and the more substantial A minor Galop with tremendous character and technical finish, and serves up an ebullient Grand Galop chromatique that takes Liszt’s tempos and accentuations more seriously than the deliciously wacky Cziffra, whose galloping horse is closer to a souped-up bumper car. Keith Anderson’s annotations are up to his usual high standards.

-- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

The Hungarian pianist has won a number of piano competitions in Hungary and abroad, including first prize in the 1973 Hungarian Piano Concours and first prize in the chamber music category at the Sydney International Piano Competition in 1977. He has recorded for Naxos all the piano concertos and sonatas of Mozart. Other recordings for Naxos include the concertos of Grieg and Schumann as well as Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto No. 2 and Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini and the complete piano sonatas of Haydn and Beethoven, the complete piano music of Bart�k, and a wide repertoire of chamber music. His critically acclaimed recordings of the Complete Haydn Piano Sonatas are available in a 10-CD Box Set, released to mark the 200th anniversary of the composer's death.

BOLLING: Suites for Flute and Jazz Piano Trio

Committed recordings of works by a “golden age” American finally coming into his own on disc.



STILL Symphony No. 2, “Song of a New Race.” Symphony No. 3, “Sunday Symphony.” Wood Notes • John Jeter, cond; Fort Smith S • NAXOS 8.559676 (61:39)


With this disc, Naxos and the present performers conclude their three-CD series of William Grant Still’s symphonies, plus other orchestral works. I reviewed the second volume (Symphonies 4 and 5, and the Poem for Orchestra— Naxos 8.559603) for another publication, and was quite beguiled. I feel the same way this time around. This music is impossible not to like, and conductor John Jeter and his orchestra from Arkansas, the state in which the young composer spent part of his childhood, are effective advocates.


Wood Notes , a work from 1947 that is receiving its first recording here, is a suite of four movements: “Singing River,” “Autumn Night,” “Moon Dusk,” and “Whippoorwill’s Shoes.” The titles suggest that the music will be picturesque, and, in the best sense of the word, simple, and indeed it is. If there is such a thing as an American Pastoral school of composers, Still would be its dean. The Currier and Ives prints that have adorned the booklet covers in this series have been very appropriate, as they project an innocence that is also one of the strongest characteristics of Still’s music. Imagine Delius at his least Impressionistic, Dvo?ák at his least academic, and Jerome Kern at his most classical, and that might give you an idea of what Still’s music sounds like. (Nevertheless, Varèse was one of his teachers!)


The Second Symphony, premiered with great success by Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra in 1937, is “a vision of an integrated society.” In terms of form, this is a bit more ambitious than Wood Notes , but Still’s writing is so unpretentious, tuneful, and relaxed that one can’t help asking what makes this work more symphonic than the other. The mood is sometimes wistful and often hopeful, and Still, when he is not embracing the listener outright, is at least holding his hand, or throwing his arm around his shoulder. Not surprisingly, African-American elements, both traditional and more popular (jazzy), are prominent in this work.


The “Sunday Symphony” dates from 1958. Again, naming its movements will give the reader an idea of what the music sounds like: “Awakening,” “Prayer,” “Relaxation,” and “Day’s End and a New Beginning.” Only 18 minutes long, this symphony is as suitelike as its predecessor, every bit as ingratiating, and even more uncomplicated. Appropriately, “Prayer” is the longest movement, and it builds to a soulful climax. “Awakening” and “Relaxation” both chatter away companionably, and the last movement brings the symphony to its resolute and affirmative conclusion.


I don’t get the feeling that this music makes exorbitant demands on an orchestra. The Fort Smith Symphony, a lean-sounding ensemble in the manner of Howard Hanson’s Eastman-Rochester group, puts Still’s music across capably and with sympathy. (I would have liked to have heard Stokowski and the Philadelphians play the Second Symphony, though!)


It is tempting to call this music naive, but I think to do so would say more about our lack of innocence as listeners, than about any lack of sophistication on the part of William Grant Still.


FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle


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For much of his life William Grant Still was invariably referred an army going into battle with a lovely central section describing t to as the “Dean of African-American Composers”. Though his music partakes of many African-American elements, it also demonstrates his varied training under Chadwick and Varese and the many years he spent writing music for jazz bands, radio, music and television. Today Still can be seen simply as one of that number of American nationalist composers who came to maturity between the wars.

In the late 1920s Still began a musical trilogy that would portray the African-American experience in the U.S.: Africa, a tone poem describing the original homeland; the Symphony No. 1 ( African-American) describing the years leading to the Emancipation Proclamation; and the Symphony No. 2 ( Song of a New Race) describing a future where African-Americans would take equal part in the destiny of their country.

The Symphony No. 2 is a major work, blending jazz, blues and gospel elements with a nationalist feeling akin to that of the Eastman School. All of the movements are relatively slow (cf. Vaughan Williams’ Symphony No. 3). The slow movement proper is the most beautiful and expressive, while the “moderately slow” finale shows Still’s great technical skill as he joins thematic elements of all four movements into an emotionally satisfying conclusion.

Wood Notes is a suite evocative of nature in the American South. Each of the four pieces begins with simple, almost trivial material, which Still then transforms into something far more poignant than one would have expected.

While numbered as the third, The Sunday Symphony was the last of Still’s five symphonies to be written. It describes the typical Sunday of a churchgoer (Still was quite devout) and while not as profound as the Symphony No. 2 it is equally sincere and more compact in expression. The opening movement is full of energy, somewhat reminiscent of Gershwin, but with modal elements and scoring reminiscent of the Big Bands. In the Prayer movement Still develops the main melody for English horn to a poetic coda in his best style. Relaxation is very simple, while the last movement alternates resolution worthy of wilight and the thoughts of the worshipper as he prepares for th e coming day.
 
The key to performing Still’s music is to concentrate on his obvious sincerity and technical ability, while not letting his tendency towards sentimentality to overwhelm all else. John Jeter realizes this and wisely brings out the positive elements, demonstrating complete control of his players (especially regarding rhythm) and deriving enthusiastic performances. The Fort Smith (Arkansas) Symphony has some troubles with ensemble, but the overall sound is lush, as much of the music requires. This disc completes the Naxos series of the Still symphonies. While there are other impressive recordings of the first two symphonies, Jeter faces no real competition with the last three, and the entire set can be recommended to all fans of American music.
 
-- William Kreindler , MusicWeb International

Mozart’s friend Franz Xaver Dussek (in whose summer villa he completed Don Giovanni) was a pianist, celebrated teacher and the leading composer of instrumental music in Prague. Like his compatriot Wanhal, Dussek completed his musical training in Vienna and, unsurprisingly, his works reflect the strong influence of composers such as Hofmann, Haydn and Dittersdorf. Dussek’s symphonies, most of which appear to have been composed in the 1760s and 1770s, are works of great charm and vivacity, cleverly orchestrated and full of striking melodic ideas as this recording amply demonstrates.

Pulitzer and GRAMMY® Award winner Jennifer Higdon is one of the most performed living American composers, and this program provides a unique opportunity to hear première recordings of her earlier chamber music. The String Trio was written while Higdon was a developing young composer, and the influences of Prokofiev and Copland can be heard in the Sonata for Viola and Piano. The beauty and immensity of the Western US sky was the inspiration for Sky Quartet, while Dark Wood explores the soulful and virtuoso character of the bassoon. Higdon’s “vibrant and individual voice” (Limelight Magazine) can be heard in further chamber works on Naxos 8.559298.

The second volume in Naxos' survey of Schubert's 12 piano sonatas surviving in fragmentary form offers three works whose harmonic adventurousness and memorable melodic content will appeal to anyone who loves this composer. More often than not, the music provides interesting contexts in relation to more familiar works. For example, I can't help but notice how the C major D. 279 sonata's bold first-movement opening theme and declamatory trills foreshadow the Wanderer Fantasy's finale. And listening to the E minor D. 566/506's Allegretto, with its songful lyricism and rolling left-hand accompaniment, I wonder if Schubert knew the finale of Beethoven's Op. 90 sonata, one of the latter composer's most "Schubertian" utterances! As before, pianist Gottlieb Wallisch turns in affectionate, idiomatic, and warmly phrased performances that are hard to beat. His energy often surpasses Wilhelm Kempff's heavier gait while steering clear of András Schiff's occasional mannerisms (such as breaking the hands in the E major D. 459's first Scherzo). Also as before, Wallisch provides informative, well-written booklet notes. A lovely disc.--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Clarity, rhythmic poise and a light touch are keywords. Nosè lets the music speak.

London-Bach, as he has been called, was the youngest of Johann Sebastian Bach’s sons. He was fifteen when his father passed away and then moved to Berlin, where his half-brother Carl Philipp Emanuel was harpsichordist to Frederick the Great. Young Johann Christian studied with his brother and it was during this time he wrote his first concertos. In 1754 he moved to Italy where he was successful as an opera composer and it was in this capacity that he was called to London where he settled. In London he met the young Mozart and was greatly influenced by him as a composer. The six sonatas Op. 17, first published in Paris in 1774 as Op. 12, clearly show his compositional style. It is easy to hear similarities between the two composers, especially the earlier Mozart sonatas. Bach’s sonatas are good representatives of the gallant style with sweet melodics and the care-free and easygoing flow of the music.

Of these six sonatas only two are written in the traditional three movements and the brevity of most of them rather implies that they might have been labelled sonatinas instead. The exception is No. 6, which is on a much grander scale, elaborated and with deeper development of the thematic material. It is also technically the most demanding. Sonata No. 2 is the other three-movement piece and it also stands out as it is the only one in a minor key, which automatically lends it a more ‘serious’ character.

All the sonatas are highly entertaining and I don’t use that word in any pejorative sense. They are well constructed and fairly simple. Dr. Burney wrote about Bach’s keyboard compositions that they were ‘such as ladies can execute with little trouble’. But simplicity doesn’t exclude musical finesse, even though music of this kind shouldn’t be over-interpreted.

Alberto Nosè is a young Italian, who has a long list of prizes in prestigious piano competitions worldwide, most recently First Prize, Gold Medal and Sony Audience Prize in Santander 2005. The year before that I heard him in Florence where I found him better suited to Scriabin’s and Szymanowski’s late Romantic-to-Impressionist sound-world than Schumann’s more sweeping Romanticism. Half a century further back in history he reaps laurels through his clarity, his rhythmic poise and his light touch. He has a formidable technique, to which his prizes are testimony and which I also noted in Florence. He has ample opportunity to demonstrate this in Sonata No. 6, where the rousing finale in particular requires fluent finger-work. He sticks rather strictly to the basic tempos of each movement and keeps the dynamics within a rather limited scope, bearing in mind that these sonatas were composed for harpsichord or fortepiano. In other words he lets the music speak and puts himself in the background. I can’t think of better advocacy for Johann Christian Bach. Next time I would be happy to hear him in Scriabin or Szymanowski but I am afraid that Naxos have already dealt with both composers.

The recording has great clarity without being too analytical.

-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International

Michalis Kontaxakis, First Prize Winner in the 2005 International Francisco T'rrega Guitar Competition, is considered today to be one of the leading young Greek guitarists. He studied the guitar with Vassilis Mastorakis and Costas Cotsiolis.

Includes work(s) by Maximo Pujol, Marco Pereira. Soloist: Ricardo Cobo.

This selection includes a downloadable bonus track, Vincenzo Bellini's "L'allegro marinaro," from classiconline.com.