Includes work(s) by Domenico Cimarosa. Ensemble: Toronto Chamber Orchestra. Conductor: Kevin Mallon.

If you bought the earlier issue, do not hesitate to add this disc to your shelves

Hot on the heels of the first volume of the projected Naxos Stanford symphony cycle (see review) comes Volume Two, which again features David Lloyd-Jones at the helm of the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra.

The Second symphony was premièred, under the composer’s baton, in Cambridge in 1882 and there’s a passing link with the subsequent première of the Fourth symphony in Berlin. In that latter concert Joseph Joachim was the soloist in Stanford’s Suite for Violin and Orchestra. Joachim also participated in the Cambridge concert of 1882, playing the Brahms concerto on that occasion. Following the first performance in 1882 there was another airing of the Second symphony at the Gloucester Three Choirs Festival in the following year. However, in his notes for Vernon Handley’s 1991 recording, Lewis Foreman states that he had been unable to trace any further performances until 1990, when the Ulster Orchestra gave it, presumably as a precursor to the Handley recording for Chandos.

The symphony bears the title ‘Elegiac’ and Stanford prefaced the score with four stanzas from Tennyson’s poem, In Memoriam. However, I’m bound to say that I find it hard to detect any elegiac tone in the music itself. The first movement is marked Allegro appassionato. It’s a vigorous movement in which one feels the music is moving forward pretty constantly, culminating in a dramatic coda.

The main theme of the second movement, a Largo espressivo, is rightly described by annotator Richard Whitehouse, as “both graceful and expressive.” This is rather lovely music, which consistently displays a singing quality. This is followed by a genuine scherzo. The outer sections of this quite short movement display a drive that is Beethoven-like. In between is encased a brief lyrical trio but it’s noticeable that even here the timpani maintain the rhythmic pulse underneath the music, albeit quietly, for much of the time.

The finale opens with an adagio introduction that has a decidedly Brahmsian feel. Once the main allegro is reached that section opens with some delightful wind writing after which the music surges along with no little purpose. This finale has genuine drive and momentum and it builds to a jubilant coda in which, once again, I hear the influence of Brahms.

The Fifth symphony dates from 1894 and Stanford drew his inspiration from two poems by John Milton (1608-1674). He inscribed several stanzas from each in the score and, helpfully, Naxos include these verses in the English version of the booklet notes.

The principal subject of the first movement, ushered in by the woodwind at 1:45, is rather jolly. However, there had been quite a degree of urgency to the brief introduction and this urgency remains as a kind of background presence underpinning the essential joviality of the movement as a whole. The music has constant vitality and is fresh and enjoyable to hear. For the second movement Stanford follows the precedent of Brahms by writing an intermezzo, which bears the Brahmsian indication Allegretto grazioso. Lewis Foreman described this movement in his note for the Chandos-Handley recording as “a gently pastoral minuet”. That’s not quite how it comes across in this present performance, however. Lloyd-Jones adopts a slightly faster speed than Handley – he takes 6:28 against Handley’s 6:56 – and thereby gives the music quite a different character. I wouldn’t presume to say which approach is better. To be truthful, I think both work in their own way though I have a marginal preference for the way the movement goes in Handley’s hands. The bottom line is that both conductors are successful in bringing out the genial character of the music.

The third movement, Andante molto tranquillo, was inspired by Il penseroso. Richard Whitehouse describes this movement as “searching” and I agree. It begins with some fine, expansive string writing, which is gradually enriched by the addition of woodwind and horns. This is Stanford at his noble, expansive best. At 3:47 Stanford introduces new material, with flute and clarinet appropriately to the fore as he responds to Milton’s lines about the nightingale, beginning “Sweet bird that shunn’st the noise of folly.” This material is developed for a while until, after a majestic passage for brass (around 6:00) the opening lyrical material returns, but this time in even richer guise and it’s with this that Stanford brings a most impressive movement to a close.

There’s a strange opening to the finale, featuring quiet, stabbing chords. At 0:33 a restless melody in dotted rhythm appears, first on the strings and then taken up by the winds but the music doesn’t really seem to get into its stride until about 1:20. As the movement unfolds the tone becomes more assertive though those stabbing chords keep cropping up. The last of Milton’s stanzas quoted by Stanford begins “There let the pealing organ blow” and Stanford does indeed add an organ to the orchestral palette (at 8:10) though its initial entry is quiet, just gently underpinning the orchestra. At 10:34 the full orchestra and organ intone a majestic chorale and one thinks that this is the Big Finish. Not so. The music winds down and Stanford brings the movement instead to a rich, luminous but quiet conclusion, which I find very satisfying and which aptly echoes Milton’s words:

Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all Heav’n before mine eyes.

It’s not easy to place these two symphonies. Neither is the equal of Elgar’s symphonies but they are far from negligible and these admirable performances under the convincing leadership of David Lloyd-Jones confirm that they do not deserve the neglect into which they have fallen. Lloyd-Jones obtains fine playing from the Bournemouth orchestra and, as with the previous issue in this series, they have been accorded warm yet detailed sound.

This is another distinguished instalment in this Stanford cycle. Vernon Handley’s pioneering set (Chandos) is most certainly not displaced but these Naxos recordings, and this latest one in particular, can stand proudly shoulder to shoulder beside them. Collectors who bought the earlier issue of the Fourth and Seventh symphonies should not hesitate to add this companion volume to their shelves. More please!

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

Of the British composers to have emerged immediately before Elgar, the most significant were Sir Hubert Parry and Sir Charles Stanford. Central to Stanford' achievement are the seven symphonies covering the greater part of his career.

I gained significant enjoyment from this desirable release. The delightful and substantial Five Novelettes are a hidden gem worthy of discovery.

Founded over sixty years ago in Chicago the Fine Arts Quartet is a highly accomplished ensemble. On the evidence of these superb performances and other recent releases such as the Schumann String Quartets 1-3 they prove themselves to be in the same elevated league as ensembles such as the Emerson, Škampa, Talich, Takács, Hagen, Quatuor Mosaïques, Kodály, Henschel, Belcea and Zehetmair.

I strongly believe that Glazunov’s substantial output of music is not as well known as it deserves to be. The most frequently heard work is the Violin Concerto (1904). One sometimes hears music from his two major ballets Raymonda (1898) and The Seasons (1900) also the Chant du Ménestrel (1900) in either of its versions for cello and piano or for cello and orchestra. As a frequent attender of chamber music recitals I have yet to hear any performances of Glazunov’s chamber works. Although not known for their progressive or experimental nature his works are generally of high quality and I commend any chamber music lover to hear the two volumes of String Quartets from the Utrecht String Quartet on MDG 603 1236-2 (Quartets 3 and 5) and MDG 603 1237-2 (Quartets 2, 4 and Elegy for Strings) and also the recording of the Quartets 3 and 5 from the Shostakovich Quartet on Regis RRC 1211.

Grove-Online; Wikipedia and virtually every other resource I have consulted give the composition date for Glazunov’s Five Novelettes, Op.15 as 1886. However, the information in the Naxos booklet notes says 1881; which means that Glazunov would have been a mere sixteen year old when he wrote the score. Evidently he originally gave the less descriptive title of ‘Suite’ to this five movement work. Lasting almost as long in performance as the A major String Quintet the amiable and predominantly folk music-inspired Five Novelettes is an outstanding work and a hidden gem of the chamber music repertoire.

Glazunov’s Five Novelettes have all been given exotic titles. They open with an appealing Alla spagnuola (In the Spanish style). Briskly performed with high spirits by the Fine Arts Quartet the piece also contains a contrasting dreamy central section. The dance-like piece entitled Orientale has the character of a Percy Grainger folk dance rather than anything terribly oriental. Again there is a contrasting central core. In the Dorian mode the third movement is a reverential Interludium in modo antico that reminded me of sacred music from the Russian Orthodox Church. There’s considerable warmth and good humour to be heard in the Valse. The buoyantly played final piece, marked All’ungherese (In Hungarian style), convey strong evocations of tradition gypsy and Magyar rhythms.

The four movement String Quintet in A major, Op.39 is scored for a second cello rather than the more usual viola - in the manner of Schubert’s Quintet in C major, D. 956. Here the Fine Arts are augmented by the services of second cellist Nathaniel Rosen. The opening Allegro begins with a glorious melody for the viola. One is struck by the appeal of this highly attractive music infused as it is with lush and brazen Romanticism. Pizzicato strings herald the opening of the engaging Scherzo. The heartrending strains of the Andante could melt even the stoniest of hearts. In the highly-flavoured Russian-sounding themes of the Finale the players successfully conclude proceedings in a robust and vivacious manner.

There are only a small number of alternative versions of Glazunov’s String Quintet and Five Novelettes and none that I consider an improvement over this superb Naxos release. I am reasonably familiar with what is probably the best known version of the String Quintet from the ASMF Chamber Ensemble on Chandos (c/w Tchaikovsky String Sextet in D minor, Op 70). In the Five Novelettes the versions most likely to be encountered are those from the St. Petersburg String Quartet on Delos and also from the Lyric Quartet on Meridian; both recordings having the String Quartet No. 5, Op. 70 as their coupling.

I gained significant enjoyment from this desirable release. The sonics are to demonstration standard. The delightful and substantial Five Novelettes are a hidden gem worthy of discovery.

-- Michael Cookson, MusicWeb International

If Handel were alive today, he'd still be revising Messiah--it's the nature of this remarkable work, and it was the nature of its very practical, theatre-savvy composer. The various "official" performing versions and hybrids, along with alternate arias and added choruses, have given modern choirs a wealth of choices for their own performances, including license to just cobble together a version to suit the needs of the available forces--just as Handel would have done. This recording claims to offer "the only modern account of Handel's unique London performances in April and May 1751, when he used [boy] treble voices for choruses and arias." Conductor Edward Higginbottom can't find an explanation for that decision, but just the same he selected three boys from his excellent choir to help replicate the event. Indeed, of all the British chapel, cathedral, and university-based choirs, Higginbottom's Choir of New College Oxford always has cultivated the most ingratiatingly warm, clear, full-bodied, centered treble tone, complemented by robust basses and rich-colored middle voices--which is why his is the ideal group to bring this particular Messiah setting to disc.


Of course, for the most part, the arias, recits, and choruses are the same here as for any other complete Messiah performance; variations occur in the use of countertenor rather than female alto, and in the several numbers where a treble sings instead of the usual female soprano. And the three trebles who share the work here are fabulous; nothing is lost in expression or technique, and there's something to be said for their pure, completely unmannered style in such hugely familiar music, so often overwrought and excessively ornamented. And speaking of ornaments, Higginbottom doesn't allow the "all-about-me" kind of decoration from his soloists that renders many performances different but ultimately irritating; instead the ornamenting is tasteful and artful.


Higginbottom's command of the orchestra also is impressive; he has a firm grasp of the larger picture of the oratorio, and consequently makes decisions regarding pacing that just "feel" right. It's interesting that among the vast volumes of writing about Messiah, almost no one ever discusses tempo--and yet it's tempo more than anything that determines a successful performance. The current "speed for speed's sake" obsession of some conductors simply ruins choruses such as "And He shall purify", "His yoke is easy", and "All we like sheep", and arias like "Rejoice greatly"--but here we are treated to mostly sensible (but certainly not slow!) tempos that properly capture the essential rhythmic and melodic--and textual--aspects of a given movement (except for Higginbottom's insanely fast "All we like sheep", which the choir almost pulls off!). The lively movements dance; the more reflective and solemn ones are appropriately weighty or delicate as required. In other words, this is a very intelligent, articulate, and consummately musical--as well as entertaining--Messiah.


The choir is as good as any you'll hear in this music, and the soloists--none of them big names, but all experts in this repertoire--couldn't be more ideally chosen. There are many scintillating moments--including the chorus "For unto us a Child is born", which has never been more excitingly rendered on a recording (at least among the two-dozen-plus sets in my collection)--and there are some occasions, the "Hallelujah" chorus for one, where the choir is covered just a little more than we'd like by the exuberant orchestra.


Being a very critical Messiah observer, I was pleasantly surprised by this "treble"-voice version. In fact, along with the reference recordings above, it's becoming one of my favorites, simply because it renders this beloved and time-worn work with respect for its innate structural and expositional integrity--no fancy, quirky self-indulgences, no artificial additives, just pure, unprocessed, organic Handel. A pleasure!
--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

BUXTEHUDE: Organ Music, Vol. 4

I always have a major problem when I listen to any Symphony by Havergal Brian – it immediately becomes my favourite of the series!

"Naxos has been gradually transferring its incomplete Havergal Brian symphony cycle from Marco Polo to Naxos, thereby giving the music a second lease on life at a more attractive price. The disc containing Symphonies Nos. 11 and 15 really does make the perfect introduction to Brian’s art, despite the fact that he’s best known for musical behemoths like the “Gothic” Symphony. These works, as well as the two attractive overtures, get much closer to the heart of the man; most of his symphonies are relatively short and extremely concentrated, as here, and the performances are excellent." -- ClassicsToday.com

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The symphonic LP discography of Havergal Brian has been largely distorted by a number of pirated recordings released on the so-called ‘Aries’ label. These were derived from BBC broadcasts and were (with one exception) issued under assumed names of both orchestras and conductors. A number of other CD companies issued selected symphonies over the years, but the mainstay has been the eleven examples released by Marco Polo. These original discs appeared in the nineteen-nineties and according to the Brian Society webpage have now been largely deleted - although many are available as MP3 downloads. Naxos has to be congratulated for re-issuing a number of these recordings: it is a process that I hope will be continued in the coming months and years. I believe that there are a further six symphonies still to be re-issued.
 
The entry point to this fine CD must surely be the captivating Comedy Overture: Doctor Merryheart (1911-12). As Reginald Nettel points out in his book, ‘Havergal Brian and his Music’, the title of ‘overture’ is misleading. This work is in fact ‘a symphonic poem in the form of a set of continuous variations on two converging lines’ [of music]. Even the most cursory hearing of this overture must impress the listener with the sheer confidence and technical mastery presented by the composer. The piece is based on the life and doings of a certain Dr Merryheart, whose persona was the creation of the composer. Merryheart was both an astronomer who indulged in Pythagorean speculation and also a dreamer. The subtitles given to the variations suggest the sort of dreams he had. For example, the first variation was ‘Whimsies and Sunshadows’, another was ‘Dreams: Asleep in the arms of Venus’ and another, ‘Merryheart as a chivalrous knight chases Bluebeard.’ Before Dr Merryheart awakes he has fought a dragon and led a procession of heroes. The work concludes with ‘The Dance of Merryheart’ where the composer recapitulates a number of the preceding themes. It is perhaps a good idea to see this overture as a kind of English Til Eulenspiegel. Certainly there are a number of Straussian references and even parodies in this music.
 
It is interesting that Brian retained a lifelong affection for this work – possibly because it is one of the few works that retained a tentative place in the concert repertoire. But more to the point it may well be because the character of Dr Merryheart is largely that of the composer himself!
 
Before starting work on the Symphonies I would recommend backtracking to the opening number on this CD - the Concert Overture: For Valour (1902-06). In many ways it has the assurance and confidence of the Edwardian period, yet I think it would be wrong to assume that it was simply a sort of pastiche of ‘ceremonial music’ nodding towards jingoism. There is an ambiguity here. This is not a piece of music that exalts war: if anything it is a work that questions the fact that men have to go and fight and die in the battlefield in the first place. It is no coincidence that ‘For Valour’ is the inscription on the nation’s highest battle order –the Victoria Cross. The Overture, which was written after the Boer War may reflect the dichotomy between the reality that many VCs were won in that campaign for outstanding bravery and the fact that the war was largely unpopular ‘back home.’ The work is certainly not anti-war but neither is it a kind of ‘Froissart-ian’ glorification of it. It is the balance between the marital music in this overture and the more ‘pastoral’ imaginings that gives the work it character and emotional depth. Interestingly, the literary inspiration for this work was a quotation from Walt Whitman’s Drum Taps – the passage beginning with ‘Adieu dear Comrade’ and concluding with ‘To fiercer weightier battles give expression.’
 
I always have a major problem when I listen to any Symphony by Havergal Brian – it immediately becomes my favourite of the series! Furthermore, I am always depressed as to how such inspiring works of art can be ignored by the great and the good. If pressed, I would have to declare my contention that Brian is up there with the ‘Top Five’ symphonists from Great Britain. Who the other four would be is always a matter of debate and not for these pages!
 
It is redundant to attempt an analysis of these Symphonies for my review. The Havergal Brian Website carries such a vast array of information, reviews, analysis and bibliography on virtually all of Brian’s works. Furthermore Malcolm MacDonald, who has produced the three-volume study of Brian’s 35 Symphonies, has given a comprehensive analysis of both works in the liner notes. However, a few comments are essential to allow any potential listener the opportunity to decide if this music is for them.
 
The 11 ^th Symphony was composed between February and April 1954. It is scored for a large orchestra with an array of percussion instruments, including sleigh bells and gong. The work is conceived in three movements with the middle movement being longer that the other two together. MacDonald notes the unusual form of the work – with a deeply felt ‘adagio’ preceding what is effectively the central scherzo-like movement. He suggests that the nearest parallel is Shostakovich’s Sixth Symphony (1939) which is of similar length and form. Yet the mood of the two works are very different, especially in the opening movement – the Brian work seems to be much more positive and even relaxed in its outlook whereas the Russian adagio is tragic. Furthermore, the finale of the Brian work is a ‘ceremonial’ style march in E major which is followed by a country dance tune, whereas the Shostakovich concludes with ‘a full-blooded and debauched music-hall galop’.
 
The 11 ^th Symphony is a fine work and one where the composer has seemingly enjoyed himself. The music travels a huge distance in its half hour duration. Quoting Malcolm MacDonald, who gives an excellent summary in a review of this CD:- [The] ‘Symphony 11 runs a gamut, from exalted lyric expression at the start, through truly comic episodes in this big central movement, to a Finale of swaggering ceremonial—which nevertheless is itself qualified, once again, by more pastoral images in a central country dance...in fact it ranks among Havergal Brian’s occasional (and usually ironic) nods to the ‘English pastoral’ school of composers who were the Establishment throughout much of his career.’
 
The Symphony No.15 was written in the spring of 1960 when the composer was a mere 84 years old. It is almost incredible to imagine that at this point he was not yet half way through his symphonic career: the final essay, the 32 ^nd Symphony was not completed until 1968. The work is scored for a large orchestra and is formally conceived as a single movement. Malcolm MacDonald suggests ‘that this work takes another look at pompousness and circumstance and magnificence and ceremonial, and ways of undercutting these things. This is monumental subversion raised to a fine art.’ Yet this is not to say that Brian totally mocks this genre. He stated in a letter that this symphony was ‘a work of [both] power and tenderness.’
 
The 15 ^th Symphony is a complex and involved work that needs a lot of attention from the listener else much will be missed. What is not in doubt is the sheer technical mastery – both of the formal structures, the melodic transformations and the instrumentation. This is a Symphony that is totally ambivalent. On the one hand it appears to sit in the tradition of English ‘ceremonial’ music, yet on the other hand it represents this genre in a manner which although recognizable is totally transformed. I think that there is also a huge dash of humour in much of this music. There seems to be a reference back to the success of Dr Merryheart with much of the thematic transformations: nothing is ever at it seems. In some ways Brian does for this style of music what Charles Ives did for hymn-tunes and hoe-downs.
 
Both the performance and the sound quality of these recordings are superb. There is so much potential for going wrong in any presentation of Brian’s music – the scoring is surely difficult to balance either in the concert hall or the studio. Yet every nuance is given here – from the most extrovert moments in the 15 ^th Symphony, through to the instrumental complexities of Merryheart by way of the weight of sound of the For Valour Overture and the depth of the ‘adagio’ of the 11 ^th Symphony.

-- John France, MusicWeb International

These two volumes [6 & 7] of the complete solo piano music of Bohuslav Martinu announce the completion of an outstanding undertaking. The series was originally intended to run to only four discs but has since trawled further outwards. The catch means it is now, quite clearly, the most extensive and exhaustive collection of the works for solo piano ever recorded.

Volume six starts with the 1931 Esquisses H203. They’re written in pungent neo-classical form, and hints of chinoiserie, Paris-style, haunt the second of the six, as well as Ragtime. Martinu, though, always remained far more allusive stylistically than fellow Czech Schulhoff in this regard. Impressionist hues haunt the Fourth whilst I’m sure I hear a larky Volga Boatmen embedded in the Ragtime melos of No.5 – plenty of sinewy articulation here.

Jeux was also written in 1931 and is a locus classicus of Martinu cross-rhythms. I suggest you start with No.3 of the four of Book I, which is both fluent and fluid but also sports a characteristically saturnine neo-classical drive. The second book is no less fine for all that: in some ways it’s more piquant still, with a warm and malleable quality to the Andante [No.3] and a martial tune laced with Prokofiev-like moments [No.6]. We go right back to 1917 for Tri lyrické skladby (Three Lyric Pieces). These take in a Mussorgsky Pictures feel in the first of the three. The second starts like an etude, diverts to popular chinoiserie, then noodles off in the direction of the nineteenth century drawing room. Weird mélange.

There are pieces you probably have not come across even in literature devoted to the composer. The Black Bottom is one. It dates from 1927 and is a delightful minute’s worth of your time. The sleeve note writers have relied too much on Wikipedia for this one. Jelly Roll Morton’s Black Bottom Stomp came via Perry Bradford’s introduction of it in 1919 in Nashville, Tennessee, not the Black Bottom district of Detroit. Naturally you won’t be interested in this, but I am.

Vecer na pobreží (Evening at the Shore) dates from 1921 and will intrigue admirers of the composer. In three brief movements he creates an intimate impressionistic tableau, somewhat reliant on Griffes possibly, where, in the central panel, the left hand waves lap into the right hand melody line delightfully and where the storm in the finale gently eases away. This may seem atypical but it shows the ease with which he assimilated French models and distilled them potently. The disc ends with the grand bell peals of Písen beze slov, the valedictory Nocturne and the plangent Chanson triste in D minor....

So Koukl’s pilgrimage has come to its end. He has been a most worthy guide, and now takes his place at the top table of Martinu performers on record. At budget price he has no peers. As a complete cycle this set has no rivals. Individual performances from the likes of Firkušný, Leichner and others may be more arresting in isolation but the overarching reach of Koukl proves dominant and permanent.

-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International

Ildebrando Pizzetti's Concerto dell'estate of 1928 (really a three-movement symphony) is one of the most attractive of all early 20th-century Italian orchestral works. It hasn't been recorded since Gardelli did it for Decca some 40 years ago, and this new version is most welcome. While Myron Michailidis chooses virtually identical tempos in the outer movements, the central nocturne runs a bit slower (but not duller) than the earlier version, at some gain in atmosphere. The recording balances, which place the woodwinds and harps relatively forward, also suit the work very well. It's a beautiful performance, well played and atmospheric.

I have a sentimental attachment to the Oedipus Rex Symphonic Preludes: this was the very first work that I played as a percussionist with the Johns Hopkins Symphony Orchestra in my undergraduate days, and it introduced me to Pizzetti. To be honest, the cymbal part didn't give me much to do, but it did offer me the opportunity to simply listen to a very beautiful piece that, like the Concerto dell'estate, deserves far greater currency than it enjoys. It was recorded relatively recently by Vänskä for Hyperion, quite well too, but this version is just as good, with confident horn playing and powerful climaxes.

The remaining two works receive their recording premieres. Pizzetti was basically a gentle, lyrical composer, but he could get his dander up quite effectively: witness the five-minute prelude to Clitennestra. Composed in the 1960s just before his death, you'd never know it from the harmonic style--it's just as attractive and approachable as the Oedipus Rex music of some 60 years earlier. La Feste delle Panatenee is another tryptich that, like the work just mentioned, takes ancient Greece as its inspiration. Less somber than its predecessor, it concludes with an imposing procession that could use a touch more heft from the brass and a less prominent snare drum--but as with all of these performances conductor Michailidis and the Thessaloniki State Symphony certainly do the music justice. Strongly recommended.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

LOEILLET DE GANT Recorder Sonatas • Daniel Rothert (rec); Keith Haugsand (hpd); Vanessa Young (vc) • NAXOS 8.572023 (73:35)


The Flemish Loeillet family produced several musicians in the late 17th century, including two cousins with the identical name Jean Baptiste Loeillet, both of whom were instrumentalists and composers. The longer-lived (1680–1730) and more prominent of the two emigrated to England around 1705 and subsequently styled himself “of London”; the other, shorter-lived (1688–c.1720) and more obscure, is featured here and known as “de Gant” after his birthplace of Ghent in Belgium. Virtually nothing is known of him except that at some point he entered the service of the archbishop of Lyon and died between 1720 and 1729, with the former date probably closer to the mark. His main musical legacy is a set of 48 recorder sonatas; 12 of these were published as opp. 1–4, from which eight have been selected for this release. While showing the influence of Corelli, French patterns of ornamental decorations are followed and there is significantly more use of counterpoint and development of the bass line than in most Italian models. Several of the sonatas also vary from the standard three- and four-movement patterns of the sonata da camera and sonata da chiesa , having five or even six movements.


Daniel Rothert is yet another top-notch recorder virtuoso to add to the ever-swelling ranks of the same. He plays with sweet, beguiling, liquid tone, and the most rapid passagework holds no terrors for his agile tongue and fingers. Keith Haugsand and Vanessa Young provide vital and skilled support in the continuo parts, and the recorded sound is fine. This disc does not have any competitor for repertoire; a Musica Ficta CD with the La Caccia ensemble features some different sonatas alongside trio sonatas by the London Loeillet, while ArkivMusic mistakenly lists a Christophorus CD with the Ensemble Mediolanum performing works by “John of London” under Loeillet de Gant. But even if an alternative existed, all lovers of recorder music should snap this up forthwith.


FANFARE: James A. Altena

A pupil of Roberto Gerhard, the Catalan composer Joaquím Homs developed a style that, after experiment with atonality, led to a full use of surrealism. His music, however, remains expressive and approachable. Apart from the early Suite, written at fifteen, the other works included here follow the development of Homs’s musical language from the Piano Concertino of 1946 through surrealism to the expressiveness of his String Soliloquy and Piano Diptych of the 1970's.

Distinctly Russian, unabashedly Romantic and full-bodied, yet intellectually devised and highly disciplined, Medtner' compositions for violin and piano encompass music of rare beauty and power, gratifying for both performer and audience. Violin Sonata No.

Although Ernest Bloch’s exploration of the ‘Jewish Soul’ focused on a cycle of seven works written between 1911 and 1916, he returned to Jewish themes throughout his life. Baal Shem explores Eastern European Hasidic traditions in all their expressive intensity in this version for viola and orchestra transcribed by soloist Hong-Mei Xiao. Bloch’s 1918 Coolidge Prize-winning Suite for Viola and Orchestra remains one of the twentieth century’s enduringly important works for the instrument, whilst the Suite hébraïque, written in his last decade, absorbs Jewish elements ever more fluently and subtly.

BRAHMS Viola Sonatas: op. 78 (trans. Csaba Erdélyi); op. 120/1; op. 120/2 • Roberto Diaz (va); Jeremy Denk (pn) • NAXOS 8.570827 (70:55)


To twist an old saw two ways: Familiarity breeds contempt of the unfamiliar; familiarity breeds comfort. The familiar G-Major piano and violin sonata was transcribed by contemporary violist Csaba Erdélyi for piano and viola, and was transposed to D in keeping with Brahms’s transposition to D for his piano and cello version of this sonata. Erdélyi reasoned that if it works for violin and for cello, then why not in between—for viola. To my ears, this music thus altered by Erdélyi flattens its appeal, ironically by adding a sharp. The problem is the lowered-by-a-fourth pitch, which relegates too much of the piano sound to the “bass-ment,” especially in the Adagio. The viola sonorities are also dulled. The conclusion of the Adagio suffers most where the beauty of the rising and falling piano figure is sharply diminished by the key shift down to B? from the original E?. Here, Erdélyi sharpens the pain, fittingly by deleting a flat. I have not heard Brahms’s cello version, and I might not like that either. ArkivMusic does not list Brahms’s cello transcription separately, but I did find a few cellists listed who have recorded it.


The clarinet is the focal instrument in Brahms’s last four chamber works: the A-Minor Trio (op. 114), the B-Minor Quintet (op. 115), and the two op. 120 sonatas. Clarinetist Richard Mühlfeld was the dedicatee of these four pieces. Brahms recognized that the viola could substitute for the clarinet in the two sonatas, therefore he published the sonatas for clarinet or viola. The clarinet version seems to have been rooted in tradition, but the viola version has recently taken a firm hold, especially with the growth of recorded music. Currently, ArkivMusic lists about 60 clarinet versions and close to 40 viola versions.


Now I confess my secret conversion. After growing up with the clarinet versions and, without ever listening, disdaining the viola versions, when I first heard the viola versions a few years ago, I became a convert (my “con-version”). The viola sound in these sonatas is much more satisfying to me than that of the clarinet, although I love both versions. With that prejudice on the table (or on the page, or on the screen), the opus 120 performances by these two artists are excellent in every respect. As to phrasing, dynamics, tone coloring, tempos—whatever qualities I can muster—these are performances that belong in everyone’s collection.


Jeremy Denk is a pianist of growing reputation, having appeared as soloist with several major orchestras throughout the world. Roberto Diaz is a noted violist. Formerly principal violist of the Philadelphia Orchestra, he is now president and CEO of the Curtis Institute of Music. Their contribution to the Brahms opus 120 sonatas is most welcome.


FANFARE: Burton Rothleder

A welcome addition … worthy to set alongside the other great achievements of Haydn’s middle period.

This is a real find and a welcome addition to the Naxos catalogue. Haydn is justifiably famous for his oratorios The Seasons and The Creation. The latter has been recorded by these artists for Naxos to great acclaim. Now Andreas Spering and his Capella Augustina have unearthed Haydn’s first, all but forgotten oratorio, The Return of Tobias. The apocryphal subject of Tobias and the angel was extraordinarily popular in Haydn’s Vienna when he was composing this work, and he chose to home in on the section of the story when Tobias (Tobia) returns from his long absence from home and, with the help of his friend Asaria, aka the Archangel Raphael in disguise, cures his father’s blindness. Haydn takes this as an opportunity to create an oratorio which, while not as pacy or fast-moving as The Seasons and The Creation, contains much of beauty, and some very virtuosic singing for both chorus and soloists. Popular as the Tobias legend was in 1775, however, it quickly fell out of favour. It was furthermore felt that Haydn’s oratorio was too long (nearly 3 hours) and difficult to be easily revived so it fell out of favour and has barely been heard since. Length is less of an issue when you listen at home and, thankfully, the artists involved here make this difficult score seem all but effortless.

The first accolades have to go to the young soloists. We might hope that Nikolay Borchev would have sounded a little more weighty as Tobit, the blind father, but he brings pathos and sympathy to what could have seemed a dry character. His opening aria, Ah tu m’ascolta, oh Dio appropriately invokes sympathy for a man who seems to have lost all sympathisers on earth. Similarly Anders J. Dahlin is perhaps less forthcoming than we would expect from the hero of the story, but he brings a wonderfully mellifluous tone to the character of Tobias himself, from his first aria upon his return to his parental home, until the final miracle when his father is healed. The outstanding contributions, however, come from the three women soloists. Anna, Tobias’ aged mother, is characterfully sung by Ann Hallenberg. Her rich, fruity mezzo is perfect for the tone of despair the character needs at the opening, and she lightens her tone admirably when the mood of the piece turns more joyful in Part 2. Listen to her exciting opening aria (CD1, Track 4) and you will see how Haydn can create instant interest in the character, as well as how seemingly easily Hallenberg copes with it. Her nightmare aria is Part 2 is thrilling. Sophie Karthäuser tailors her tone to handle Tobias’ virtuous and dutiful wife, Sara. Most admirable of all, however, is Roberta Invernizzi, singing the role of Raphael. The angel is given appropriately difficult, often stratospheric music and Invernizzi sings it with flawless coloratura and effortless command of the technique.

The chorus seems totally convinced by this work and they throw themselves into their parts as if they were singing opera, which it often feels like they are. Two moments to watch out for: their fugal chorus that ends Part One is particularly exciting, and their stormy Part 2 chorus, Svanisce in un momento was resurrected by Haydn as his concert motet Insanae et vanae curae. The Capella Augustina, a period ensemble founded by Andreas Spering himself, plays this music as if it were written for it, and the chamber textures that Haydn is fond of using sound perfectly judged. Listen to Sarah’s Part 2 aria, Non parmi esser fra gl’uomini for a good example of how well orchestra and soloists blend. Spering holds the whole thing together with assured control, but also a sense of spontaneity, as if the music is unfolding in precisely the correct manner. This CD is a welcome addition to the catalogue, and something worthy to set alongside the other great achievements of Haydn’s middle period. Three cheers to Naxos for choosing to give it such a distinguished outing on CD. The booklet contains commentary, synopsis and Italian texts, but no translations.

-- Simon Thompson, MusicWeb International

Together with Casella, Malipiero and Respighi, Pizzetti was one of the leading composers of the generation of Italian composers born around 1880.

The greatest of the late 19th century Italian opera composers, Verdi's works featured realistic storylines and political issues of the day. Here are selections from over a dozen operas (La Traviata, Aida, Otello, Rigoletto, Il Trovatore, Nabucco, Un Ballo in Maschera, Falstaff, La Forza del Destino) and from his solemn Requiem Mass. Dramatic and inspiring!

Fritz Kreisler poured forth a steady stream of transcriptions of popular songs, like The World Is Waiting for the Sunrise, of those that would sometime become popular songs, like Dawes’s Melody, as well as of tunes that entered the public consciousness without ever quite achieving popular status. All these are in addition to his soon-to-become beloved original compositions, like the “Lanner waltzes” Liebesleid, Liebesfreud, and Schön Rosmarin. Nicolas Koeckert and Milana Chernyavska have collected Transcriptions of the Third Kind with Slavic flavoring in an anthology of almost popular (at least, recognizable) favorites by Rimsky-Korsakov, Tchaikovsky, and Dvo?ák. These he plays with a combination of tonal warmth and technical alertness that wins him a place among violinists who play Kreisler’s works, if not quite as Kreisler himself did, at least as convincing in their own way. The number of violinists in this category will, of course, vary from listener to listener. Surely, Elman must belong there, although he sounds nothing like Kreisler, and so does Francescatti, whose dashing style and biting clarity hardly recall Kreisler’s Gemütlichkeit. Yet, since even so aristocratic and individual a violinist as Milstein can fail to make his point in some of these works, it’s clear that a strong personality and redoubtable technique don’t suffice. While Koeckert glories in the rich tonal possibilities of such pieces as Rimsky-Korsakov’s Hymn to the Sun, he never becomes smarmy, taking, for example, a brisk tempo where he might bog down in Dvo?ák’s Humoresque. Hearing Kreisler’s recordings for the first time may offer a jolting surprise to those who had experienced his pieces only in performances by other violinists. (The number of such listeners may be greater than anyone might estimate: I once encountered a recent master’s degree recipient from a well-known music school—in violin performance, no less—who mused about how wonderful it would be if we could actually hear the way Kreisler played his own pieces. O tempora, O mores!) Kreisler’s playing sounds vibrant yet expressive, and, of course, authoritative and convincing. But it’s not sentimental in the popular sense. Even in Ethelbert Nevin’s songs, The Rosary and Mighty lak’ a Rose (both of which he recorded twice, the latter for its first time with Geraldine Farrar in 1915), he never wallowed. He may have addressed his audiences in the vernacular, but he refused to condescend. Koeckert also walks this fine line, although his chosen material doesn’t bring him so close to the abyss. And he sparkles with the required brilliance in pieces like Tchaikovsky’s Humoresque. Whatever composer Kreisler transcribed always emerged from the process sounding a bit like Kreisler, or at least, Viennese, like Kreisler himself (think of his reworking of Paganini’s First Violin Concerto). He infused some of this personal element into his piano parts, which, like Heifetz’s, give the distinct, if not distracting, impression of being well crafted. And Milana Chernyavska plays them that way. These pieces would be hard to come by, at least in one place, outside RCA’s 10-CD Kreisler collection, 19:4. All the more, then, do they deserve an enthusiastic welcome in Koeckert’s idiomatic and ingratiating collection, in reverberant yet revealing recorded sound that Kreisler himself could only have envied. Recommended.

FANFARE: Robert Maxham

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.

Gaubert: Works for Flute, Vol. 2

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.

WILLAN: Organ Works

Pierre Rode’s concertos represent the full flowering of the French violin school, the origins of which can be traced back to his teacher Viotti’s arrival in Paris in 1782. Bold and youthful, the First Violin Concerto contrasts with the more pastoral and introspective moods of the Fifth Violin Concerto, while the Ninth was written during the composer’s stay in Russia. All three works share Rode’s signature finales which ‘sparkle with gracefulness, piquancy and impishness’. Performed using painstakingly prepared new editions, this is the third of five volumes containing all thirteen of Rode’s Violin Concertos.

Review:
Make no mistake, Friedmann Eichhorn is one of the most remarkably gifted violinists of our time, a fact made clear by this cycle of Pierre Rode’s concertos. Born in Bordeaux in 1774, Rode’s life as a touring virtuoso violinist was of mixed fortunes, eventually dying in obscurity at the age of fifty-six. As a composer he wrote almost exclusively for the violin, including thirteen concertos, though all budding students of the instrument will recognise his name for his pieces to develop technique. The Seventh concerto found a place in the repertoire well into the early 20th century, but all others had already been long forgotten. Yet this disc is full of those audience pleasing melodies that you will find in Paganini’s popular concertos, the mix of lyric attractions, with outrageous demonstrations of virtuosity made all the more demanding by Rode’s mercurial decoration of the melody. All three works on the present release require extensive use of spiccato, and I have never heard such micro-second accuracy as Eichhorn achieves, each note sparkling like a perfectly cut diamond. Then for aspiring virtuosos, just try that at Eichhorn’s pianissimos and then you will have perfect bow control. Never sounding hurried, his tempos are still electrifying, and just to add a final degree of brilliance, Eichhorn provides more technical hurdles with his own cadenzas that are perfectly in keeping with Rode’s style.

-- David Denton, Naxos

Perhaps it's the passage of time, or it's simply the New Zealand String Quartet's embracing, unselfconscious style and illuminating technique, but the atonal sounds of Alban Berg's String Quartet Op. 3 sure seem a lot closer to late-19th century romanticism than they did 40 or so years ago when listeners in my generation first paid attention to Berg's music. And since the work was written almost 100 years ago, that's as it should be, as is the fact that it's now much easier to get past the larger and still-challenging sonic picture to appreciate the inner textural and motivic details.

Of course, our ability to really hear and follow what's going on depends on the performance--and these four musicians may be the best on disc (surpassing the Leipzig and Pražák quartets) in all-important matters of linear clarity, dynamic shading, and sustaining the developmental tension throughout Op. 3's two long, difficult movements. In the Lyric Suite, ensemble unanimity and precision in the increasingly fast odd-numbered movements is critical, and the New Zealanders not only accomplish this but also never forget the intrinsic drama and emotional intensity that haunts this music, especially impressive in the Allegro misterioso and Adagio appassionato movements at the heart of the work.

Indeed, as you listen to these works afresh, you not only marvel at the individual players' virtuosity, but you also have to appreciate that the relatively warm yet pleasingly "edgy" quality to the sound and the oneness of spirit in the interpretations come from the highest-order functioning of the well-integrated collective parts of a mature, vital body--that is, a string quartet that's been together a long time, each member sharing life and breath in the music they make together. This is one reason we listen to the great string quartets--and besides the chance to hear Berg's fascinating and formidable scores again, that's the reason you shouldn't miss this extraordinary recording.

--David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

A fascinating collection of music by one of the 20th century greats.

This latest instalment in the Naxos Robert Craft series contains a mixture of newly recorded items and one work, the Violin Concerto, that has already appeared on Koch Classics in 2000. Comprising largely music composed during the last ten years of Schoenberg’s life, the disc also reflects to a large extent the émigré composer’s preoccupation with his Jewish heritage as his life drew to a close.
 
The disc opens with the powerful Survivor from Warsaw, Schoenberg’s moving response to a Nazi atrocity in the Second World War. Schoenberg gave this a universal significance by playing down the Warsaw location and concentrating instead on the atrocity itself, an incident in which weak, elderly and starved Jews were systematically liquidated by the Nazi cohorts, and one that was repeated time and again throughout the war. This work had huge personal significance to the composer, as he wrote in 1948:
 
“Now, what the text of the Survivor means to me: it means at first a warning to all Jews, never to forget what has been done to us, never to forget that even people who did not do it themselves, agreed with them and many of them found it necessary to treat us this way. We should never forget this, even such things have not been done in the manner in which I describe in the Survivor. This does not matter. The main thing is, that I saw it in my imagination.”
 
If memory serves, Craft has recorded this before, with Simon Callow as narrator, but this is a new version with David Wilson-Johnson and the Philharmonia. While the choral and orchestral contribution make their mark under Craft’s watchful baton, I have heard performances of the narration which were more vividly re-enacted than that by Wilson-Johnson. In particular the delineation of the different episodes in the story and of its various characters, from the prisoners to the German sergeant, could have been more sharply defined. This is a work which demands commitment and involvement over accuracy to the score. However the final chorus makes an overwhelming effect. In the same 1948 letter Schoenberg wrote. “The Shema Jisroel at the end has a special meaning to me. I think, the Shema Jisroel is the ‘Glaubensbekenntnis,’ the confession of the Jew. It is our thinking of the one, eternal, God who is invisible, who forbids imitation, who forbids to make a picture and all these things, which you perhaps have realised when you read my Moses und Aron und Der biblische Weg [Moses and Aaron and the Biblical Way]. The miracle is, to me, that all these people who might have forgotten, for years, that they are Jews, suddenly facing death, remember who they are.”
 
The Prelude to Genesis was written as part of the same commission from the composer and publisher Nathaniel Shilkret that resulted in Stravinsky’s miniature cantata Babel. Schoenberg’s was one of a series of works written to reflect various events in the Book of Genesis. Other music featured in this unusual project included Cain and Abel by Milhaud; The Flood by Castelnuovo-Tedesco and The Covenant by Ernst Toch. Bartok, Hindemith and Prokofiev were also approached but did not contribute in the event. Schoenberg’s Prelude, a twentieth-century “Representation of Chaos”, begins with fugal entries representing the moment of creation itself and includes a wordless chorus whose unaccompanied vocalise brings the piece to a rather unexpected conclusion. (See reviews of the complete composite work by Jonathan Woolf and Rob Barnett).
 
Dreimal Tausend Jahre and Psalm 130 are Schoenberg’s final works. Providing a further reminder of his Jewish faith, here the music represents a distillation of his life’s work. Passages of quasi-tonality alternate with angular 12-tone themes and sprechgesang. Excellent performances and recordings.
 
We move to New York briefly for the recording of Ode to Napoleon, in which David Wilson-Johnson is joined by the Fred Sherry Quartet and pianist Jeremy Denk. This setting of Byron, whose poem pulled no punches in its condemnation of the French emperor, also served as a pertinent condemnation of Hitler during the Second World War. Of his decision to compose the piece, Schoenberg wrote: “I knew it was the moral duty of intelligentsia to take a stand against tyranny.” First performed at Carnegie Hall by Mack Harrell and Rodzinski in an orchestral version which was later abandoned, Schoenberg attempted to ensure the dramatic values of the work were given full rein by notating precisely the rhythms and dynamic of the spoken text. The performance is first-rate.
 
Finally, to the main work on the disc, the 1936 Violin Concerto. On its original appearance Rolf Schulte’s coolly accurate performance of Schoenberg’s work was generally much admired, supported as it was by the analytical clarity of Craft’s conducting and the well-balanced sound. Accurate and involved in the opening movement, Schulte is affectionate in the central Andante grazioso, and he and Craft even manage to create genuine Brahmsian warmth as the movement progresses, followed by exuberance in the closing Alla Marcia. However Hilary Hahn’s recent performances and recording have added a new dimension to our understanding of this challenging piece. Hahn brings a warmth and romanticism to the concerto, and perhaps ultimately a sheer love of the music, which Shulte and Craft do not quite match. But it’s a close run thing, and some may prefer the cooler approach on this disc. Certainly in terms of sound there’s not much to choose between them.
 
A fascinating collection of music by one of the twentieth century greats, performed by one of his most eloquent advocates. Don’t miss it.
 
Ewan McCormick, MusicWeb International
 

Includes song(s) by Heitor Villa-Lobos. Ensemble: Mobius. Soloists: Lorna McGhee, Alison Nicholls.

Performing on early 19th-century pianos from the Frederick Historic Piano Collection, competition prizewinners Dmitry Rachmanov, a Juilliard graduate, and Cullan Bryant, a graduate of Manhattan School of Music, explore the interrelationships between the keyboard music of Beethoven and his principal teachers in this fascinating double-album of rarities for piano four-hands, culminating in a revelatory account of the Great Fugue in Beethoven’s own keyboard arrangement. The distinctive sonorities of these highly esteemed period instruments transport the listener back to the time when Beethoven, his teachers or his own pupils, may have performed this music themselves for the first time.

This collection of classical favorites of Bach's work serves as a compilation of his famous works made available by Budapest Failoni Chamber Orchestra; Cologne Chamber Orchestra and Northern Chamber Orchestra accompanied by a host of renowned classical talent.

Includes symphony(-ies) by Wenzel Pichl. Ensemble: Toronto Chamber Orchestra. Conductor: Kevin Mallon.