Nimbus
532 products
Mozart: The Hanover Band
Finzi - A Centenary Collection
L. Subramaniam
Hossein Omoumi
ROUND & ROUND
Finzi, Parry, Bridge - An English Suite / Boughton
The three composers represented on this compilation have little in common with each other apart from their nationality and the fact that they were largely neglected during the latter part of their lives and after their deaths. Of the three, Parry always kept a foothold on the repertory because of his choral music - although much of this substantial body of work remains unrecorded to this day - but the English Suite was a posthumous work edited after the composer’s death for performance by his pupil Emily Daymond and not performed until four years after his death, in a Prom outing after which it promptly sank without trace. Some of the ideas in the music date back to Parry’s heyday in 1894 but Daymond did her mentor no favours when she suggested that two of the seven movements of the suite could be omitted if the Suite was thought to be too long, and here the Caprice movement is indeed not given – as it was in Boult’s earlier 1971 recording for Lyrita. The work is hardly over-extended at under twenty minutes, and there would have been plenty of room for the additional movement. The later recordings in the catalogue, conducted by Richard Hickox and Adrian Leaper, also include the work complete and under the circumstances there seems little to recommend this cut version under Boughton unless the other works on the disc appeal.
Like Parry’s Suite, Finzi’s Eclogue was not published or performed until after the composer’s death, and the title was supplied by his editors. It was originally written in the 1920s as the slow movement of a piano concerto, but was revised some twenty years later to the form we now know. The first recording was made in 1977 under the indefatigable Vernon Handley and Peter Katin, but since then there have been a number of others. Martin Jones gives a very cool reading which emphasises the almost neo-classical style of the writing; one can imagine the work being played with more heated romantic fervour, but it nevertheless reveals all its crystalline beauty in this reading and the playing of the strings is beautifully refined. This is probably the best track on the disc; but the greater part of the collection really rests on the shoulders of Frank Bridge.
After his death, Bridge was even more neglected than Parry or Finzi; indeed, for many years he was only remembered for the fact that he had supplied the theme for Britten’s Variations, and there were more recordings of that piece in the catalogues than of any of Bridge’s own orchestral music. Britten himself recorded Sir Roger de Coverley with the English Chamber Orchestra in 1969 in the Snape Maltings, and the larger body of strings he employed made a more positive impression than Boughton manages here. It was not until Sir Charles Groves devoted a whole EMI LP to the orchestral music of Bridge in 1976 that the revival of the composer’s fortunes may be said to have been safely launched. Groves could sometimes be a rather stolid and sober conductor, but at his best he was capable of producing some superb performances – his recording of Delius’s Koanga remains unchallenged in the catalogue to this day, and his Bridge compilation was another of the highlights of his recorded repertoire. He included Cherry ripe and the Lament in his compilation, and two years later Boult gave us première recordings of Rosemary and Sally in our Alley; but this Nimbus disc was - so far as I can tell - the first to include recordings of the Canzonetta and the Irish melody. Indeed this remains the only available recording of the latter work in its orchestral form, since it was not even included in Hickox’s otherwise comprehensive survey of Bridge’s orchestral music for Chandos; the other recordings in the current catalogue are of the original string quartet version.
In terms of performances Boughton’s readings of Bridge are fine, but these are not by and large Bridge’s greatest works; indeed many of them are transcriptions for string orchestra of pieces that Bridge originally wrote for smaller forces, and many of them fall close to the category of ‘light music’ – if any music by Bridge could be so described. Boughton is just a little slower than his competitors Boult or Groves - to the advantage of the heartfelt Lament - but the differences in interpretation are minimal. The most substantial work here, There is a willow grows aslant a brook, is however something different again. This meditation on the death of Ophelia (in Hamlet) is one of Bridge’s most impassioned later works, and in terms of length and content it can hardly be categorised as a miniature. This is the only work on this disc which includes wind instruments, and it is also clearly the most ‘modern’ composition here; Boughton gives the music plenty of atmosphere. But there are many other recordings of this piece, and some of these - not least Hickox - give the music more substance.
The real attraction for Bridge completists - who will in any event presumably already possess all the Hickox recordings - is the orchestral version of the Irish Melody, which contains yet another arrangement of the (London)derry Air to set beside those of Grainger and Harty. It is quite a bit less conventional than the setting by Harty, but decidedly less so than some of the sometimes bizarrely chromatic versions in which Grainger indulged himself. Then again, this is not really a conventionally Irish tune; it fits no known Irish metre, and its history might lead to some suspicion as to whether it is really a traditional Irish melody at all. It was first published in 1855 (without words) and was supplied to George Petrie by Jane Ross who had arranged it herself for piano and merely stated that it was “very old”. However later researchers failed to uncover any trace of its origins, or any Gaelic words; the first poet to supply lyrics was Percival Graves for an 1882 setting by Stanford. Apparently Jane Ross, who was a conscientious collector of folk-songs, may have heard the song in Donegal - where her brother was a fisherman - rather than Derry itself. There remains a suspicion that she may actually have written the melody herself – perhaps more likely than an alternative explanation which attributes the tune to the fairies. Bridge’s arrangement is the central section of a piece that is quite substantial in length and depth; he adds a double-bass part to the original quartet version. One could imagine the work might be more effective with more players; the cellos at 1.32 and 2.16 sound rather thinner than ideal. For Bridge enthusiasts there is no competition to this recording, which is therefore valuable in its own right.
The recorded sound throughout is natural, and nicely resonant without being overblown.
- Paul Corfield Godfrey, MusicWeb International
Saint-Saëns: Music for Piano Duo & Duet, Vol. 1
York 2: The Composers' Original Scores for Piano Duet
Esterhazy Recordings - Haydn: Symphonies Vol 2 / A. Fischer
Adám Fischer and the AustroHungarian Haydn Orchestra go from strength to strength. This culminating volume of their Haydn symphony cycle – built up over 14 years – is in many ways the most enjoyable of all‚ not just because it covers a fascinating range of works written in the 1760s‚ when the young Haydn was busy experimenting‚ but in the performances too. In most previous volumes the advantages of Fischer’s cycle as against those of Antál Dorati’s everfresh pioneering Decca cycle‚ have been relatively slight. Here the new performances‚ with lighter‚ more transparent textures and generally faster speeds‚ take far more note of period practice while staying faithful to modern instruments. More than ever one registers the individual virtuosity of the various soloists in the orchestra‚ often challenged to the limit by fast speeds. So a movement such as the variation finale of No 31‚ The Hornsignal‚ features a sequence of brilliant soloists such as Haydn himself might have been writing for in the Esterházy orchestra – violin‚ cello‚ horn and so on‚ even doublebass. That symphony‚ in Professor Robbins Landon’s description one of the most spectacular of the early works‚ is here presented with panache‚ with the four horns braying out superbly‚ and the fast opening Allegro adding to the intensity. The immediately preceding symphony‚ No 30‚ nicknamed Alleluia after the chant quoted‚ is hardly less striking‚ the more so here when Fischer has adopted‚ with brilliant results‚ the option for this C major work of having trumpets and drums as well as horns – a later addition as Robbins Landon suggests in Volume 1 of his monumental Chronicle and Works (Thames &Hudson: 197678). The horns are prominent throughout these performances‚ helped by the recording balance‚ bringing out the boldness of inspiration. Symphonies Nos 30 and 31 evidently date from 1765‚ but generally the regular numbered sequence from the old Breitkopf edition is even more misleading than usual. So No 26 in D minor‚ Lamentation‚ another work that quotes a chant‚ is in the darkly intense Sturm und Drang style of the middle symphonies‚ where No 37 in C is evidently one of the earliest works here‚ dating from the brief period from 1759 when Haydn was Kapellmeister to Count Morzin. Fischer in the Lamentation Symphony again makes the music more biting with his emphasis on sharp dynamic contrasts and his very fast Allegro – faster even than with Christopher Hogwood in his period performance on L’OiseauLyre (4/94). Even more strikingly‚ No 39 in G minor‚ the last of the numbered symphonies here‚ is a wonderful example of Sturm und Drang‚ enhanced by Fischer at the start by the way he exaggerates the pauses between the nervily tentative opening phrases‚ leading to the fierce and urgent Allegro. The finale too is vehemently Sturm und Drang‚ with its rushing strings and four horns‚ again brilliantly used as in the Hornsignal‚ No 31 – as Robbins Landon puts it‚ ‘a tightfisted work’. Throughout this set Fischer consistently relishes the originality of scoring‚ as in the Trio of the Minuet of No 29 in E‚ where suddenly in E minor the horns in octaves hold a sustained note‚ an effect made the more eerie here with the strings stilling their vibrato in period style‚ as they regularly do in these performances. The Symphonies ‘A’ and ‘B’‚ the one dating from the Morzin period‚ the other from the early 1760s‚ make an apt supplement as they come from the same period. These are both works which were only identified as symphonies rather than string quartets when in recent years wind parts were discovered. Whether or not Fischer and his orchestra of selected players from Vienna and Budapest will go on to record other supplementary works and alternative versions (for another record company following Nimbus’s demise)‚ as Dorati did‚ theirs is a superb achievement‚ with the cycle of numbered symphonies now most satisfyingly completed.
-- Gramophone 1/2002
Joaquin Nin: Piano Music / Martin Jones
NIN Danza Ibérica. Mensaje a Claudio Debussy. Cadena de valses. Canto de cuña para los huérfanos de España. “1830” Variations sobre un tema frivolo. 3 Danzas espa?olas • Martin Jones (pn) • NIMBUS 5851 (67:15)
Good to see a whole disc of the piano music of Joaquín Nin (1879–1949), issued as part of the Nimbus 5000 series. The pianist Martin Jones is well known as an intensely musical player, and so it is here. His articulation throughout is a model of clarity, his pedal work the result of much thought. This is immediately evident from the first piece here, Danza Ibérica (subtitled “In Seville on a May Night”), a bright, busy work that ends in decidedly exuberant fashion. The sultry central section is beautifully realized by Jones; elsewhere, active rhythms dance infectiously.
The Mensaje a Claudio Debussy (Message to Claude Debussy) of 1929 is a hugely successful tribute (Nin describes it as a boceto sinfónico , a symphonic sketch). Of course, Debussy was fascinated by Spanish music so the homage is remarkably apt. Jones is magnificent, as much in the cloudy, Impressionist mists as in the remarkable cadenza that the piece contains. Thematically, allusion is all. No direct quotes, but many shapes that point to familiar gestures from Debussy’s scores.
The Cadena de Valses (Chain of Waltzes) is subtitled “Evocación romántica.” Schubert lurks in the background (Schubert’s centenary was just around the corner at the date of composition, 1927). This, surely, is a masterpiece. There is a plethora of references, from Soler and Weber through Schubert and Granados. But it appears as all of a magnificently effective piece. Jones seems to have an authentic Spanish swing at his disposal as well as an ability to project large-scale form.
Moving forward a decade, the Canto de cuña para los huérfanos de España (Lullaby for the Orphans of Spain) of 1938 is a lament for children orphaned because of the civil war. This is a magnificently touching elegy, dark and harmonically complex. Jones ensures the end is almost unbearably touching. Perhaps the disc should have ended with this piece, as no matter how long the gap between pieces, it is too short.
Luckily, the variations that follow begin innocently and don’t make for too much of a shock. Dating from 1934, and from Paris, it is a superbly constructed piece that deserves more outings on the concert platform. Jones rises to the challenges perfectly (listen to the octaves of the first variation, or the deep flowing lyricism of the Schumannesque second). Jones also plays with a beautifully wistful touch when required.
Three dances composed in September and October 1938 complete the disc. The first is another “Danza Ibérica,” somewhat more stripped down than the example that opened the recital. It is followed by a “Danza Andaluza” (Nín claimed it to be based on an Andalusian song), on paper a study in repeated notes but in reality a tender statement of the utmost beauty. Finally, a “Danza Murciana,” alternating 6/8 and 3/4 meters (as well as major and minor modes).
Calum MacDonald’s booklet notes are exemplary. Competition is high in this music: Thomas Tirino on Koch was welcomed by Peter Rabinowitz in Fanfare 25:3; Nicholas Unwin on Centaur was no less enthusiastically rated by Lawrence Johnson in Fanfare 22:1. Yet Jones makes such a strong case, and is so well recorded with just the right amount of presence (at Wyastone, Monmouth, in 2007) that, while listening, it is difficult to imagine alternatives. And there can be no higher praise than that.
FANFARE: Colin Clarke
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Joaquín Nin is, perhaps, best rememberd as the father of composer Joaquin Nin–Culmell (Culmell was his mother’s maiden name) and writer Anaïs Nin, for his music, in Britain at least, is seldom, if ever, performed and he is but a name, if that, to music-lovers. It’s hard to see why he is so neglected for these works are highly colourful and full of pleasing, and entertaining, things. Like the music of Astor Piazzolla these pieces speak the musical language of the composer’s homeland, in this case Cuba, dominated by things Spanish, and, although slight, are well worth investigating.
After a rather breathless start, the first piece is a kind of more modern (harmonically and rhythmically) version of a piece from Albeniz’s Ibéria, Mensaje a Claudio Debussy. It comes as welcome relief. In general, it’s a slow, quiet, dance - at times it sounds like Constant Lambert - and it builds to an impressive climax but falls away again towards the end. This is a fine piece.
Cadena de valses is a set of waltzes, in the manner of Ravel’s Valses nobles et valses sentimentales, but without the variety of that masterwork. Nin’s work is pleasing but one would have welcomed some rest from time to time; it’s all a bit tiring. The gentle restraint of Canto de cuna para los huerfanos de España (Lullaby for the Orphans of Spain), a requiem for the children who had been left without parents after the Spanish Civil War, is a touching memorial which says more, in its simple way, than many a bigger and bolder work.
1830: variaciones sobre un tema frivolo, whilst firmly keeping one eye on the past, isn’t ignorant of the future, but as the frivolous theme is developed we hear many different voices including one which is terribly reminiscent of Michael Carr’s title music for television’s The Edgar Wallace Mystery Theatre! The similarity is so clear that one wonders if Carr knew the Nin work, for there’s no reason that he shouldn’t. The piece alternates virtuoso movements with slower, more relaxed ones. There’s a real virtuoso rush at the end which is quite delightful.
The final three pieces are dances of one kind or another. This is a very pleasant collection of, basically, light piano pieces, but there is a problem; the range of the music is very limited and as Jones plays them in the same way – what else can he do? – a sense of boredom sets in. The best thing to do is sample a couple of tracks at a time, for listening to the whole CD in one sitting will give you an unfavourable impression of the music, as it did me. Whilst Nin, on the strength of this music, is no lost master it’s very enjoyable stuff, and an interesting insight into what happened in Spanish piano music after Albeniz and Falla. The recording and notes are excellent.
-- Bob Briggs, MusicWeb International
Brahms: Piano Trio Nos. 1-3 - Concerto for Violin & Cello
Bach, J.S.: Flute Music - Bwv 997, 1013, 1020, 1030, 1031, 1
Hartmann, K.A.: String Quartets Nos. 1 and 2 / Eisler, H.: S
Stravinsky, I.: Firebird Suite (The) / The Rite of Spring /
Federico Mompou: The Piano Music / Martin Jones
Includes work(s) for pno by Federico Mompou. Soloist: Martin Jones.
FINE ARTS BRASS: A to Z of Jazz
Forbidden Music - Klein, Krasa, Schulhoff / Hope, Dukes

Profiles of three Czech composers, each of whom was imprisoned in a Nazi concentration camp: this is the somber premise of "Forbidden Music", an album helmed by the fantastic young English violinist Daniel Hope. Two of these three composers, Gideon Klein and Hans Krása, were imprisoned at Terezín (Theresienstadt); the third, Ervín Schulhoff, was interned not far away. As Hope writes in his introduction, all three wrote music that is "powerful, unsentimental, and uncompromising." It's a poignant joy to hear this trio of composers given their due by three passionate and intelligent interpreters.
Gideon Klein was 21 years old and already a precocious talent when he entered Terezín. A noted pianist, he was about to enroll at London's Royal Academy of Music when he was taken away. That same year, he penned his Duo for Violin and Cello, which stands as two movements: a spiky Allegro con fuoco and a richly colored, unfinished Lento. The most affecting of Klein's pieces, however, is his String Trio, completed nine days before he was moved to Auschwitz. (He died the next year at Fürstengrube, very shortly before the war's end). This three-movement work, built upon Moravian folk themes, is a powerful example of his talent, both in terms of harmonic sophistication (from a largely self-taught composer) and its keen sense of rhythmic dynamism.
Until his internment at Terezín in 1942, Hans Krása led quite a charmed life: his wealthy parents gave him an Amati violin while he was still a child; he was mentored by Alexander Zemlinsky as a student; and he became an assistant conductor in Prague under George Szell. The vamps of his Tanec (Dance) demonstrate both his cool-eyed worldliness and his idiomatic understanding of jazz rhythms--and it's a world away from the elegiac Passacaglia e Fuga for string trio (written in 1944, two months before he was moved to Auschwitz and gassed upon arrival). Krása begins with a sweet waltz, handsomely articulated by Hope, which is shortly transmogrified into a ghostly and then increasingly distorted version of itself. It's a truly chilling work, one that defies the sensibilities of Krása's most famous piece associated with Terezín, the children's opera Brundibár (which the Nazis used as showpiece propaganda).
The third composer showcased here is Ervín Schulhoff, who was interned not at Terezín, but at the nearby Wulzburg camp. The two works of his included here provide a greater context for the other music on this collection. 1925's brilliantly colored Duo for Violin and Cello, which was dedicated to Janácek, is replete with Czech and other folk undertones--particularly in the wild and technically demanding second-movement Zingaresca. Similarly, his 1922 Sonata for Solo Violin, masterfully played by Hope, winds its way through a panoply of moods, from a sizzling Allegro con fuoco to an elegant Andante cantabile. To end (and, in a way, consecrate) this disc, Hope includes his own arrangement of Ravel's Kaddish for solo violin. "Kaddish" is the Jewish prayer for the dead, and although brief, Hope's plangent eloquence speaks worlds about lives lost and mourned.
Although in many ways this is Hope's endeavor, his partners match him in technical mastery and emotional depth. The sound also is first-rate, the presence so realistic that you feel as if you're sitting next to the musicians. This album is an important project, and it receives the love and care that it deserves. [Editor's note: for an excellent recording of Krása's Brundibar, look for the version on Channel Classics, conducted by Joža Karas; for the most authoritative account of the Terezín story, read the book Music in Terezín 1941-1945 by Joža Karas, published by Pendragon Press.] [4/20/2004]
--Anastasia Tsioulcas, ClassicsToday.com
Blackford: Violin Concerto - Clarinet Quintet - The Better A
Webern: Complete Works For String Quarets, Etc/Artis Quartet
A Tribute to Silvestrov
Haydn: Piano Trios / Vienna Piano Trio
The Gipsy Trio may have been written in and for London, but this ensemble’s short, snappy bowing, stomping piano accents and, above all, uniquely instinctive fluctuations of tempo and pulse in the finale, locate the work unmistakably in the grape-treading, Romany heart of the Burgenland. The steps of the dance shape and pervade the ETrio, too, in the jauntily sprung rhythms of the opening Allegretto, and the splendidly boisterous and cross-accented Allemande of its finale.
Among countless other delights in these bold and addictive performances is the sensitivity to the power of silence, and the short, hushed half-tones within the long-breathed lines of the Andante of the A major Trio. And, not least, the perceptive understanding and judgement of the shifting qualities of an Allegro which so well supports the structure of the outer movements of the D major, as well as enabling many a clearly articulated yet fanciful variation in the Gipsy Trio.
-- Hilary Finch, Gramophone [12/1997]
Bach: Works For Piano / Feltsman
The 15 two-part Inventions and 15 three-part Sinfonias (BWV 772-801) first appeared in the Clavierbüchlein, a colelction of 62 short works for keyboard put together by Bach in 1720 for his nine-year-old son Wilhelm. In an earlier version the Inventions were called "Praeambulae" and the Sinfonias "Fantasias". Like all the works in this collection, the Inventions and Sinfonias had an explicity didactic purpose, reflected in the title of the clear autograph written by Bach: "Straightforward Instructions, In which amateurs of the keyboard, and especially the eager ones, are shown a clear way not only (1) of learnign to play cleanly in two voices, but also, after further progress, (2) to handle three obbligato parts correctly and satisfactorily, and above all arriving at a cantabile manner in playing, all the while acquiring a strong foretaste of composition." Like most of Bach's works, the Inventions and Sinfonias were not published during his lifetime. Nevertheless they became widely known in multiple handwritten copies and were used as teaching material for young keyboard students. In spite of their didactic purpose, these are works of the finest quality, concise and precise articulations of the basic principles of Bach's musical logic and procedures for handling his material. There is one creative power that governs our consciousness, out perception of the world. It manifests itself through patterns, numbers, the play of elements, our senses and emotions. It defines the way we see and recreate our world in each and every aspect of our lives. It is a high task indeed to recognize and accept this power, to let it guide you in all endeavors and pay back a worthy tribute to it. J.S. Bach did just that.
Ernesto Lecuona: Cuba Espana
Liszt: Benediction De Dieu / Feltsman
1 Liebesträume, No. 3 in A flat major (1850) 4.53
2 Ballade No. 2 in B minor (1853) 14.47
Six Consolations (1850) 16.20
3 I Andante con moto 1.11
4 II Un poco piu mosso 3.08
5 III Lento placido 4.01
6 IV Quasi adagio 2.31
7 V Andantino 2.37
8 VI Allegretto sempre cantabile 2.52
9 Bénédiction de Dieu dans la solitude (1853) 17.26
10 Berceuse in F sharp major (1876) 3.34
11 Elegia (1874) 5.19
12 La lugubre gondola (2nd version) (1885) 8.34
13 En rêve, nocturne (1886) 2.25
Total playing time 73.16
Shostakovich: Complete Cello Works / Wallfisch

Raphael Wallfisch recorded the First Cello Concerto for Chandos, one of the very first CD releases on that label, coupled with the Barber Concerto. It was a good performance, but it pales in comparison with his remake here. This set offers what is, hands down, the finest pairing of the two Shostakovich Cello Concertos since Heinrich Schiff and the composer's son--with all due respect to Rostropovich--set the modern standard in this music (on Philips). The First Concerto comes across with positively frightening intensity, a product not just of Wallfisch's strong projection of the solo, but also owing much to the take-no-prisoners accompaniments of Martyn Brabbins and the BBC Symphony. Just listen to the interplay between Wallfisch and the sneering, threatening woodwind section--it's what this music is all about.
At the opening of the second movement, Wallfisch adopts a dusky, gamba-like sonority: think of Dowland's Lachrymae. The instrument truly seems to weep through the music, while the finale acquires an extra degree of bitter edge by being played very rhythmically, but not too quickly. Wallfisch really comes into his own in the cadenza, holding the entire movement together through perfect timing and a wide range of tone colors and dynamics. It's a great performance, as is that of the comparatively neglected Second Concerto.
Again we find soloist, conductor, and orchestra keenly attuned to the music's overt emotionalism. In the first movement, Wallfisch and Brabbins subtly characterize both the first and second subjects, preventing any hint of monotonous sameness in the exposition section. The development rises to a splendidly impassioned climax, followed by a ghostly coda that never drags.
In the central scherzo, once again a comparatively deliberate tempo combines with punchy rhythms to the music's expressive advantage, while the lengthy half-sweet, half-grotesque variation-finale never has been so colorfully projected. This is such a beautiful work; only the fact that it ends quietly and mysteriously conspires to keep it in the shadow of the First Concerto. In some ways it's even more melodically appealing, and this is a performance that captures its wide-ranging expression as well or better than any other.
The inclusion of the Cello Sonata and the cello arrangement of the late Viola Sonata, along with two miscellaneous short pieces, completes a package offering all of Shostakovich's music featuring solo cello. In the chamber works, John York is the sensitive piano accompanist, and both he and Wallfisch offer excellent interpretations of both large works. The finale of the Viola/Cello Sonata is particularly well held-together, with the youthful freshness of the earlier "true" Cello Sonata enthusiastically captured.
The engineering in the concertos is absolutely outstanding: balances between cello and orchestra are perfectly judged, but the microphones still capture a tremendous amount of ear-catching detail. Obviously a great deal of credit for this has to go to Brabbins and the orchestra, who offer none of that generic, lazy professionalism so common today. These performances display an idiomatic style of a kind that you seldom find even inside Russia today (witness Pletnev's often bland Russian National Orchestra, or Gergiev's mediocre Kirov band). The result is an absolutely irresistible set that no fan of Shostakovich will want to miss.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
