Performances imbued with spirit.

It’s valuable to revisit this very late example of Youra Guller’s pianism. I’ve reviewed a Tahra disc devoted to some up-and-down Chopin performances (see review) so that’s also the place to go for biographical matters. Her life was without doubt remarkable. Other performances are also contained in the same company’s series devoted to French pianists (see review) which brings us Guller’s beautiful account of the Chopin Mazurkas.
 
Here we have something different. They are recordings made in September 1975, five or so years before her death. The studio ensures that things are rather more consistent than the first Tahra disc cited above. The finger-slips are not to me especially worrying, and are to be heard in the context of engaged and strong performances given at the age of eighty.
 
Her Bach-Liszt enshrines elevated playing, a touch free and textually thickened in places. But there is clarity in her fugues, a quality that is sometimes occluded via her pedalling in the Preludes. This is perhaps an inevitable corollary of her age, but it hardly limits admiration for her playing as such. She evinces charm in the Mateo Albeniz Sonata, a very brief and delightful souvenir of her art on the smallest canvas imaginable. She is equally persuasive and imaginative in the Couperin, one of a sequence of baroque pieces for keyboard to which she brings precision and – in the case of the Rameau – pellucid dynamics.
 
The Chopin Ballade is strongly argued but rather fallible with quite a few missed notes; the Etude may have given her some problems too. One feels her tire throughout the Ballade performance and things, both digital and rhythmic, tend to suffer accordingly. Still, we can end with her Granados. Andaluza is imbued with the spirit of wistful melancholy and though the Oriental takes time to get going, it gets there in the end.
 
This is a good souvenir of Guller’s art. Despite its date it gives a reasonable indication of her repertoire interests, and the quality of her musicianship. The recording quality is reasonable for the time, the performances imbued with spirit.
 
-- Jonathan Woolf, MusicWeb International

When I first wrote my transcription of Bach’s Goldberg Variations for String Trio, in 1984, it was both a labour of love and an obsession with the 1981 Glenn Gould recording. For two months I probably had the time of my life, musically speaking, being in the constant company of Johann Sebastian Bach and Glenn Gould.

Generally, at that time, transcriptions were out of fashion and I recall that my own colleagues and managers were sceptical about such an audacious idea.

Since then my transcriptions have been played all over the world, and moreover they have opened the floodgates of new interpretive possibilities for the piece which have included solo harp, wind instruments of all kinds, saxophone quartets, Renaissance viols and even a fascinating concoction of Uri Caine, among many others.

By the time 2009 arrived I felt that this was the right moment to re-visit and somewhat re-examine my original transcription. It was 25 years after the piece was first transcribed, I had performed it many times and heard different adaptations of it, so I felt the need to return to a simpler version with hardly any repeats at all.

I have made some changes in orchestration, probably influenced by my String Orchestra transcription of 1992, but most of all I tried to inject some fresh, youthful energy to propel the piece from the beginning to end. As a result there was still room left for my old/new friends, 15 Sinfonias, which have always been in my mind to be played and recorded, and this was a welcome bonus for me and my talented young colleagues, Yuri Zhislin and Luigi Piovano.

I hope listeners will share in my life-long journey through the Goldberg Variations and my love of the music, indeed in the very first publication of the Variations, in 1742, J. S. Bach states that the spirit of the piece is “for the enjoyment of music lovers”.

-- Dmitry Sitkovetsky

Herbert Kefer was born in Austria in 1960. At the age of five he received his first musical education on the violin. He continued his studies with Professor Karl Frischenschlager in Leoben and with Professor Karl Stierhof at the University of Music in Vienna. He graduated with distinction in 1986. In 1980 he founded, together with three colleagues, the Artis-Quartett. From 1984 to 1985 they spent one year in Cincinnati, Ohio with the LaSalle-Quartet to profit from their knowledge as much as possible. After that, an international career including concerts at all well known festivals began. The quartet has made more than thirty recordings, some of which have been honored with the Grand Prix du Disque and the Diapason d'Or. In 1991 Herbert Kefer was appointed to head of Viola at the University of Music in Graz. From 2005-2010 he was director of the Weinklang-Festival. He is in demand as a soloist as well as a sought after partner for chamber music groups.

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*** PLEASE NOTE: This is an audio recording (i.e., no video) that is playable on either a standard DVD player or one with DVD-Audio capability. Both stereo and surround sound are available depending on your audio equipment. ***

This recording is in the DVD Audio format and will only play on hardware specifically compatible with the DVD Audio format. Standard CD players will not play this CD.

Includes work(s) for pno by Igor Stravinsky. Soloist: Martin Jones.

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"He might be termed the last of the great individualists among the pianist fraternity, an artist whose credo stems from his teacher, the great virtuoso Josef Hofmann. It is a school of personal quirk and technical brilliance that has seemed out of kilter with our era of po-faced accent on authenticity and perfect manners, all tending towards uniformity of execution... Nimbus is to be congratulated for taking charge of Cherkassky during the 1980s and offering him the company's Welsh headquarters to record in at will on his own time scale. As a result of long takes and pleasant surroundings in which Cherkassky thrives, this collection is truly representative of a player who hasn't always had his due." - Daily Telegraph, U.K.

Just past 26 at the time of this recording, violinist Daniel Hope shows maturity beyond his years. His performance of these complex works is a testament to a great talent. Shostakovich's Sonata for Violin and Piano requires performers to push the envelope of their abilities. Technically difficult, the sonata is highly dramatic with an increased sense of urgency. Unusual voicing from the violin heightens this perception as well. Pianist Simon Mulligan does much to hold the piece together, reinforcing the mood and adding a wash of color behind the powerful violin.
Although the album is dominated by Hope's interpretation of the challenging Shostakovich sonata, it actually works as a tribute to the late Alfred Schnittke (1934-1998), a composer close to the heart of the young performer. Schnittke's three biggest musical influences, Shostakovich, Penderecki and Pärt, are all represented here along with Schnittke's brilliant Sonata No. 3 for Violin and Piano and his touching arrangement of 'Silent Night.'

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

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This is in many ways an easy recording to review as everything about it - presentation, sound and artistry - is pleasing. Vladimir Feltsman has already displayed the mastery and versatility of his art in a series of first rate recordings for Nimbus; now this issue may take its place in his discography as a highly desirable modern version of music not especially richly represented in the catalogue.

The Album for the Young is a collection of 43 short piano pieces originally written by Schumann for his three daughters as a result of his dissatisfaction with the practice material then available. They are much more than technical exercises, being exquisite little portraits which may be played for pleasure by children and adults alike; this is music which brings to mind the old aphorism about Mozart’s piano music being “too easy for amateurs and too difficult for professionals”. The first eighteen are simpler, the remainder, “für Erwachsenere” (for more grown up ones) more complex. The shortest,” The Wild Horseman”, lasts only thirty-five seconds, the longest, “Wintertime II, just over four minutes, but by and large each takes only a minute or two and their variety makes the 76 minutes’ duration of the recital pass quickly.

This is essentially “Hausmusik” for private, domestic pleasure and consumption, not performance in a hall and thus suits the intimacy afforded by a recording, especially if listened to on earphones, when Feltsman’s tonal nuances and dynamic subtleties emerge clearly. The sound is typical of Nimbus’ engineering: warm, slightly reverberant and not too close to the piano. It also reveals the perceptible, and in this case quite endearing, trait common to many interpreters, of occasionally providing a background vocalise obbligato which is not by any means too distracting but rather indicative of the delight Feltsman takes in the melodies he is playing.

The music is charming, full of rippling melody and engaging caprice. The simple, opening melody is a nursery tune reminiscent of Mozart; there follows a medley of neatly characterised miniatures mostly on a seasonal or rustic theme. The subject matter of some, like the “Hunting Song”, is instantly apparent to the ear, others less so, so it would have been nice if Nimbus had provided English translations of the individual titles for non-German speakers. Without resorting to a dictionary or Wikipedia, the casual listener will be left wondering what titles such as “Erinnerung” (Remembrance/Memento/Souvenir/Keepsake/Reminiscence – take your pick), “Weinlesezeit” (Grape Harvest), “Schnitterliedchen” ( The Reaper’s Song) and “Erntliedchen” (Harvest Song) mean.

As Feltsman remarks in his notes, you cannot imagine this music being played on anything other than a piano, such is its typically Romantic reliance upon colour and texture, but a few pieces such as “Little Étude” glance backwards to Bach, only to be immediately succeeded by a piece of arch-Romantic sensibility in “Spring Song”.

A delightful recital from one of the best pianists active today.

-- Ralph Moore, MusicWeb International

Franz Schubert’s only significant work for flute is an offshoot of his famous song-cycle Die schöne Müllerin, completed in November 1823. In January 1824 he took the melody of the eighteenth song, “Trockne Blumen,” and made it the basis of his Introduction and Variations in E minor on “Trockne Blumen” for flute and piano. Beethoven’s only mature and substantial contribution to the instrument’s repertoire is the Serenade, Op. 25 for flute, violin, and viola, written in 1801. In 1803, the Bohemian composer Franz X. Kleinheinz (1772–1832) arranged this work for flute (or violin) and piano. The arrangement was obviously carried out with Beethoven’s full approval, as he is known to have checked it over and sanctioned it before it was printed in December, 1803. Robert Schumann wrote no original pieces for flute. However, it is but a small leap for flautists to include the 3 Romances, Op. 94 in their repertoire. They were written in 1849, for oboe, but with the composer’s indication that they were suitable for either clarinet or violin.