BRAUNFELS Concerto for Organ, Boys’ Choir, and Orchestra 1. Toccata, Adagio, and Fugue in f 2. Symphonic Variations on a French Children’s Song 2 • Hansjörg Albrecht, 1,3 cond, 2 (org); 1,3 Munich SO; 1 Iveta Apkalna (org); 1 Tölz Boys’ Ch • OEHMS 411 (73:02)


It was a whim that led me to request this CD for review. I had never even heard of Walter Braunfels, after all. Moments after beginning to play it, however, I knew that my instincts were good, because this music is rather special, and deserves to be known by a broader audience. Braunfels was born in Frankfurt am Main in 1882. Annotator Susanne Bruse divides his life’s work into three periods, and these three works represent each one of those periods. His father was a Jew who converted to Protestantism before Braunfels was born, and Braunfels in turn converted to Catholicism after World War I because he “was grateful to have escaped the inferno.” Nevertheless, his works were banned by the Nazis in 1933, and he was silenced for nearly a decade, and relieved of his teaching duties as well.


The Symphonic Variations , the last work on this CD, is the earliest one, completed in 1909 when Braunfels was 26. This is a sophisticated yet ebullient and good-natured work that sounds, perhaps, like Hindemith at his most optimistic and appealing, with suggestions of Richard Strauss for good measure. Braunfels builds his musical edifice on varied fragments of the original folk song. The textures are diverse but usually on the lush side. There is humor, too; at one point the janissary music from Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” threatens to sidetrack the proceedings. At a bit over 16 minutes, the Symphonic Variations don’t outstay their welcome, yet the music has enough weight to feel consequential.


The Concerto was completed in 1928, the year that it was premiered in the Leipzig Gewandhaus by organist Günther Ramin, with Furtwängler conducting. This is even more impressive, as it inhabits a similar world as Poulenc’s Concerto for Organ, Strings, and Timpani. First, there is an extended Fantasy, notable for its drama and seriousness. The organ, aided by the orchestra, engages in a heroic struggle. The second movement opens quietly with a brief organ prelude, followed by a touchingly melodic section for divided strings. Eventually, the organ joins in, and the brass intensify the mood. After a pause, the boys’ choir enters gently, to cap the movement with a beautiful chorale. After a mysterious organ interlude, the last movement arrives with a nervous fugue, initiated by the violins, and punctuated at intervals by the organ. This is built up at length, and then there is another capstone chorale, which closes the work thrillingly.


The large Toccata, Adagio, and Fugue for organ was composed during Braunfels’s years of silence. Begun in 1933, it was not performed until 1946. Again, the Toccata impresses one with its drama and intensity. The Adagio begins seraphically, but is not saccharine; it has known human pain. In time, its texture thickens impressively. The work ends with an imposing fugue. In this work, conductor Albrecht moves to the organ, but his instrument is not as clear-sounding as the one that the excellent Iveta Apkalna uses in the concerto. I found this work to be the least attractive of the three, but I must admit that solo organ works are not high on my play list, generally speaking. Still, even for skeptics like me, it is worth a listen.


I am astonished that none of these works have been recorded previously. I am thankful that Albrecht and his colleagues have presented them so ably. These are gorgeous performances of important music. Has the time come for a Braunfels renaissance?


FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle

The present recording of the Fourth Symphony of Johannes Brahms is the last one produced by OehmsClassics with Stanislaw Skrowaczewski. Thus many cycles lie dormant on CD and no more will follow. Nonetheless, a special birthday present for the phenomenal maestro is being prepared.

Stanislaw Skrowaczewski is successful both as a composer and as a conductor. In 1946 he became the Director of the Breslau Philharmonic. After that, he occupied the posts of Principal Conductor of the Philharmonic Orchestras in Katowice, Krakow and Warsaw. When he won the International Conducting Competition in Rome in 1956, his international career was assured: George Szell invited him to conduct the Cleveland Orchestra for several weeks in 1958. In 1960 Skrowaczewski became Principal Conductor of the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, remaining there for 19 years.

In late 1994 Skrowaczewski was appointed Principal Guest Conductor of the Saarbrucken Radio Symphony Orchestra, with which he has enjoyed a close collaboration for many years, both in the concert hall and in the recording studio. In Japan, Skrowaczewski is honored almost like a saint. Oehms Classics is proud of the extent of the recordings and is delighted to be able to continue the Brahms Cycle with the Second and Third Symphonies. - Oehms

For this release, OehmsClassics was able to convince the House of Hessen to engage in a small cooperation because the works heard on this album were personally dedicated to Princess Anna von Hessen. Rainer von Hessen has written the following in his preface to this production: "To the best of my knowledge, this is the first time that both chamber works Op. 34 by Johannes Brahms have been united on the same album: his only Piano Quintet and the Sonata for Two Pianos. Previously, both works could be heard at a concert with the duo pianists Lucia Huang and Sebastian Euler as well as the Haba Quartet of the hr Symphony Orchestra at the baroqu eFasanerie Palace near Fulda. With this rather unusual programme combination, a long harbored wish came true for me, namely to hear both works dedicated by Brahms to Princess Anna von Hessen performed on the same evening: the Sonata for Two Pianos in F minor and the Piano Quintet, that resulted from it. This enabled us to sense how the composer increased the sonic attractiveness of his composition by means of refined instrumentation, hardly changing anything else."

Gabriele Carcano consciously took his time with this debut CD: "I waited such a long time in order to play a program with which I can express who I am." Carcano knew he had to include the Variations, Op. 9 by Schumann. He also decided to round out the album with Brahms's Sonata, Op. 5 and Scherzo in E-Flat Minor, Op. 4. Praised by the Süddeutsche Zeitung as a "sculptor of sound" and "aesthete" after his Munich debut, Gabriele Carcano is sure to astound every listener.

The musical Anatevka tells the story of the Jewish milkman Tevye and his family in the Russian Empire around 1905. When the three eldest daughters reach marrying age and, in Tevye’s view, fall in love with completely unsuitable men, his consciously traditional way of life is turned completely upside down. After initial discord over his daughters’ nuptial wishes, love ultimately triumphs and the three girls marry their respective chosen ones. Anatevka wase seen on the Lake Stage in Mörbisch in 2014 for the first time; with its wonderfully beautiful melodies, scenery and a brilliant production, it is a true feast for the eyes and ears.

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.



BEETHOVEN Symphony No. 3, “Eroica.” Egmont: Overture. Coriolan Overture • Bertrand de Billy, cond; Vienna RSO • OEHMS 621 (Multichannel hybrid SACD: 60:55)


Hard on the heels of the complete set of the Beethoven symphonies conducted by Stanislaw Skrowacszewski on Oehms comes this “Eroica” conducted by de Billy; there is no indication as to whether this disc heralds another such cycle. For my part, I hope that there is indeed more Beethoven forthcoming from this team.


The symphony’s first movement features a judiciously sprightly tempo that is exhilarating without sounding rushed. Antiphonal violins assist in clarifying Beethoven’s counterpoint within a production that is dominated by the strings. In a midhall perspective featuring a spacious soundstage, the sound is exemplary, with deep, resonant low tones and a pleasantly warm orchestral image; I detected no spotlighting or isolating of instrumental groups to unbalance the focus. There is crispness to the articulation of the phrasing and judicious usage of rubato that evokes the revolutionary nature of the music without becoming weighed down with self-importance on the one hand or being driven breathless by sheer propulsion on the other.


The second movement is sober rather than melancholy—a “stiff-upper-lip-in-adversity” kind of feeling. The violins have an intensity that borders on defiance as they progress through the thematic and tonal shifts in the aural landscape, somehow remaining buoyant until expiring at the end of the coda. The Scherzo embodies Michael Steinberg’s apt characterization, “mad coiled-spring energy.” The horns in the Trio are concise in their nobility, comfortably but not overly prominent in the mix.


De Billy’s sense of dynamics is flawless: Beethoven’s playful sudden punctuations in the finale sound as fresh as though we were hearing them for the first time—and that’s a good characterization of the performance as a whole. The variations again become endlessly fascinating—one marvels anew at Beethoven’s seemingly endless invention; the whirlwind conclusion is breathtaking while remaining coherent.


The performances of the overtures benefit from de Billy’s years in the opera house: each becomes a self-contained one-movement drama, driven by excitingly quick tempos (though not devoid of flexibility or sensitivity) and a commanding sense of scale. The entire program thus reflects Beethoven’s exploration of the heroic.


There are, of course, literally hundreds of alternative recordings of Beethoven’s Third, from historical to period-instrument versions, and even several featuring SACD sound; of this last group, two recent recordings conducted by Bernard Haitink and Osmo Vänskä were reviewed by James Reel in 30:2. My colleague found the Haitink to be “quite good,” while the Vänskä was “stunning.” If value for money is your main concern, the Haitink is slightly cheaper than either the Oehms or BIS discs, while the Vänskä contains the Eighth Symphony as a discmate, and thus gives you more music (Haitink includes Leonore No. 2). Granted the premise that one can never have too many good Beethoven symphony recordings, however, I heartily recommend this disc, even to those who possess the others mentioned above. Yes, it’s that good.


FANFARE: Christopher Abbot

This release, the second in Skrowaczewski’s new complete survey of the Beethoven symphonies with the Saarbrücken Radio Symphony Orchestra (the first volume contained the Second and “Eroica” Symphonies), enters into head-to-head competition with another ongoing survey from Osma Vänskä on the BIS label. The irony, if it be that, is that Vänskä is leading the Minnesota Orchestra, the very ensemble led by Skrowaczewski from 1960 to 1969 – it was renamed from the Minneapolis Orchestra during Skrowaczewski’s tenure.

This review will be brief, so as not to delay you from visiting your nearest record shop or favorite mail-order Web site to purchase this CD. Every so often, a new recording comes along of one of music’s seminal masterworks that cannot be ignored. Skrowaczewski’s Ninth is such a recording. Whether you are a champion of Furtwängler or Toscanini, or whether you have one recording of the Ninth in your collection or 20, Skrowaczewski’s is a compelling performance – vibrant, vigorous, tensile, and authoritative. Its forward momentum never flags or sags and Skrowaczewski galvanizes his Saarbrücken forces into playing as if they were the greatest orchestra in the world, which, for 70 minutes of magical music-making, they are.

Purists will be happy to know that the full complement of repeats in the Scherzo is observed; and all of the vocal soloists in the last movement are spot on pitch, and sing with precise diction and no sense of strain. Ditto the chorus, no small accomplishment considering Beethoven’s torturous writing. The recording is of demonstration quality, with some of the most visceral timpani whacks I’ve heard. Absence of a printed text and translation of Schiller’s Ode to Joy is an oversight, but should not be an issue for the advanced collectors that Fanfare readers are.

You will have to forgive me for cutting this review short, but I must run out and buy a copy of Skrowaczewski’s first installment of the Second and “Eroica” Symphonies. Buy this CD; you will not regret it.

FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Agreat deal has been written about Michael Korstick’s interpretation of the Beethoven Sonatas. Extraordinary comments for the most part. Oehms Classics has released the complete edition in a luxurious presentation. 10 CDs in a fine cardboard package plus an extensive booklet including an essay by Attila Csampai and an interview with the artist conducted by Dr. Christoph Vratz. The recordings of this complete edition will not be issued on SACD; the individual editions retain their sonic luxury as is customary. - Oehms Classics

"...In the “Moonlight” Sonata Korstick’s approach also reminded me a bit of that taken by Solomon Cutner, the superb British pianist whose career was cut short by paralysis. Listen to the famed opening movement: Korstick gets exactly the same dead, almost ghostly rhythm that Solomon achieved back in the 1950s. I always liked that interpretation and always will. His performance of the “Waldstein” has almost the same driving energy as Gieseking’s famous 1939 recording, and I for one found his “Pathétique” the best I’ve heard since Schnabel. Most other pianists, in my estimation, get the opening of the first movement wrong by not emphasizing the dynamic contrasts as dramatically as they are written in the score, but Korstick does. And many of his slow movements are absolutely magical: Listen, for instance, to the Adagio of Sonata No. 3. Here, as in many others, the notes almost seem to float in space or on the surface of a pond, replicating (for me, anyway) an almost “altered state” within the composer’s psyche..." - Lynn René Bayley, Fanfare

The Delian Quartet’s approach to the first numbered of Beethoven’s string quartets (not actually the first one he wrote, however) is nothing if not distinctive. In an interview printed in the accompanying booklet, the Delian players (it is not indicated which of them is speaking at any given point) identify this work as “one of the larger Beethoven string quartets,” and their interpretation is clearly guided by such a perception. To these musicians, the work is not “early Beethoven” but just Beethoven, and they de-emphasize its high spirits in favor of deep seriousness. Their interpretation is an expansive one in terms of tempo. Surveying 13 other performances of this work I have on CD in my collection, I find that three of them exceed the Delian’s timing in the slow movement, the 1952 Budapest Quartet by a small amount, the 1991 Tokyo Quartet by bit more, and the 1936 Calvet Quartet by a lot. With those three exceptions, the Delian players’ timings are the longest in every movement. Nonetheless, their tempos do not seem excessively slow in the context of their overall approach, and there is also a good degree of flexibility in their handling of tempo. The performance has its own kind of momentum, but the Delian players are less concerned with urgency and linear flow than with precise articulation, pronounced vertical stresses, and a distinct statement and characterization of each phrase. I felt that they underplay some of the peaks, for instance, the angry minor-key outbursts in the development of the first movement. In the second movement, said to have been inspired by the tomb scene of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet , the anger and despair build up gradually and reach their zenith only near the end. The trio of the third movement is less assertive than in many performances. The finale would not seem slow if one were not aware that everyone else plays it faster, and I much appreciate the very clean articulation of rapid runs, which some distinguished ensembles that favor a more breathless approach do not achieve. Technically, the playing is highly accomplished, with sumptuous, well-rounded tone, accurate intonation, and precise ensemble. Balances are impeccable and textures are very clear, in keeping with the ensemble’s evident desire that each strand of music should be heard distinctly. I find the Delian approach to this work interesting and rewarding; others might find it studied.


Beethoven’s C-Major String Quintet dates from 1801, the same year as the revised version of op. 18/1 that is nearly always the one played today. I have never understood why the quintet fails to attract the degree of attention and veneration accorded the quartets. It’s a gorgeous, imposing work, about 35 minutes in duration and full of invention and dazzling compositional skill. The Delian Quartet feels that it “contains inklings of the Beethoven of the middle and late periods,” but I think it also has some strong reminiscences of Mozart. It receives a fine performance from these musicians, assisted by violist Gérard Caussé. Their characteristics of precise articulation, shapely phrasing, and clear textures are again in evidence, but the playing seems a bit freer and more spontaneous than in the quartet. Tempos are once again on the deliberate side, but one wouldn’t know it without comparisons, since they seem quite appropriate. Here my comparisons are limited to four: the Endellion (Warner), Tokyo (RCA), and Zürich (Brilliant) quartets, and the 1945 Budapest Quartet recording on Sony. The Delian’s first movement tempo seems consistent with the Allegro moderato marking and works well. At a much faster pace, the Endellion is urgent but sometimes rushed. The Tokyo Quartet is closer to the Delian tempo but offers a more blended sound, with less clarity of texture. The poignant slow movement is nicely shaped and well sustained in the Delian rendition, while the scherzo is lively without being overly fast and has a grandeur that is missing from the rather hurried Endellion performance. The finale too is effectively paced, with a pronounced contrast in tempo between the Presto and Andante sections that is sometimes missing in other performances.


The op. 137 Fugue for String Quintet dates from 1817 and lasts under two minutes. In style it is suggestive of some of the fugal movements or sections in Beethoven’s late works. The Delian performance is once again comparatively deliberate and very clearly articulated, with exemplary clarity of texture. Those of the Endellion and Zürich quartets (coupled with their recordings of the op. 29 quintet) are quicker and livelier.


The Delian performances are recorded in clear, detailed, and tightly focused sound, with minimal reverberation, qualities I have come to associate with the Oehms label. With its distinctive rendering of the quartet and compelling one of the underrated quintet, this release deserves an enthusiastic recommendation.

FANFARE: Daniel Morrison

BARBER Violin Concerto. KORNGOLD Violin Concerto. WAXMAN Carmen Fantasy & • Alexander Gilman (vn); Perry So, cond; Cape Town PO • OEHMS 799 (68: 09)


& WILLIAMS Schindler’s List: Theme


Except for John Williams’s theme from Schindler’s List , the compositions on violinist Alexander Gilman’s program with Perry So conducting the Cape Town Philharmonic Orchestra all suffered a certain amount of neglect after their first performances and recordings. Isaac Stern (and Louis Kaufman and Robert Gerle) brought Samuel Barber’s concerto to the attention of listeners, and now it has just about entered the repertoire, and students adopt it for competitions. Alexander Gilman produces a glowing tone from his Giovanni Battista Guadagnini violin, but the engineers don’t set him so far forward as Columbia’s did Isaac Stern; if Gilman plays with less ruddy energy, he more than compensates for it in subtlety and refinement. His generally more relaxed approach doesn’t prevent him or the orchestra from soaring in the climactic moments. Oehms’s engineers have set him just a bit forward, with just enough of the spotlight focused on him to lend him soloistic prominence. He and So take their time in the slow movement without giving even a hint of immobility; in the middle section, his tone grows temporarily as glutinous as Mischa Elman’s. And at last, alchemist Gilman transmutes even the finale’s most mechanical perpetual-motion elements into musical gold.


Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s concerto (like Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s) has also come a long way from the days in which Jascha Heifetz’s recording might have intimidated other violinists from trying their hands in the work (even if Irving Kolodin’s dictum “more corn than gold” hadn’t already done so) but also for years represented the only entry into the catalog. In the last decade, especially, many violinists have taken it up, many of them, notably perhaps Nikolaj Znaider (RCA 710336, Fanfare 32:6) taking the first movement at a much slower tempo than Heifetz’s. But while playing the movement more slowly for musical reasons may be defensible, Gilman seems also to struggle in its quicksilver technical passagework, though he soars in its rhapsodic lyrical moments (at least he attacks the double-stops about halfway through the movement with a sort of abrasive gusto). Still, at almost 10 minutes, the first movement sounds very slow, creating despair that the expected climaxes will never arrive. Heifetz took 7:47 in his 1953 studio recording and 7:46—always consistent, that Heifetz—in a 1947 live performance; but Anne-Sophie Mutter took 8:40; Philippe Quint, 8:48; James Ehnes, 8:57; Gil Shaham, 9:03; and Znaider, as mentioned, 9:19, and finally, Gilman, at 9:44, an obvious pattern. The slow movement also seems to stall in this way, although the lush sonorities that So draws from the orchestra gives listeners something to enjoy in the waiting room; Gilman’s corresponding timbral lushness extends from the top to the bottom of his violin’s range, and together violin and orchestra collaborate in a richly atmospheric reading of the movement. The tranquil conclusion, despite its near immobility, provides an effective lull before the boisterous intrusion of the finale’s theme. But Gilman balances percussive aspects with Heifetz’s penetrating clarity in the upper registers during the finale’s lyrical interludes, and fashions a climax of cinematic sweep.


Franz Waxman’s Carmen Fantasy , now, according to some, preferred to Sarasate’s similar work by Russian violinists, also has cinematic connections—and again to Heifetz, with whom negotiations for playing the violin solos in Humoresque broke down (Stern finally being engaged). Nevertheless, Heifetz played and programmed the work from the beginning. Gilman’s reading sounds at the same time a bit warmer and perhaps a bit cheekier, and even a bit more seductive. The program concludes with a rather lugubrious reading of the theme from John Williams’s score to Schindler’s List.


Those seeking these particular works on CD should find Gilman’s readings more than satisfactory even if Heifetz still reigns supreme in Korngold, with either Heifetz or Leonid Kogan occupying similar positions in Waxman’s chestnut—at least for sheer brilliance. Warmly recommended.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

Irma Issakadze debuted on OehmsClassics with a highly praised recording of the Goldberg Variations. The pianist, who lives in Munich, began her remarkable career in her home country of Georgia, where she performed her first public concert at nine with nothing less than Beethoven’s First Piano Concerto. She continued her training with Ludwig Hoffmann in Munich and Vladimir Krainev in Hanover.

In the Six Partitas for Keyboard, which – just as the Goldberg Variations – are part of the “ClavierÜbungen”, Bach has expanded the traditional suitemodel by adding movements that are not dance forms, e.g. “Burlesca”, “Scherzo” or “Aria”. More and more, the sequence of dance movements in Bach’s works becomes a cycle of character pieces. The success of the Six Partitas was immense. Musicologist Johann Nikolaus Forkel, also Bach’s first biographer, wrote: “This work caused a great sensation in the musical world when it was published; no one had ever seen or heard such superb compositions for keyboard before.”

BACH Cantata No. 147. Sinfonia in D, BWV 1045. Magnificat in D • Hansjörg Albrecht, cond; Andrea Lauren Brown, Lydia Teuscher (sop); Olivia Vermeulen (alt); Julian Prégardien (ten); Sebastian Noack (bar); Rebekka Hartmann (vn); Munich Bach Ch & O • OEHMS 1801 (58:57)


This disc celebrates the 60th anniversary of the founding of the Munich Bach Choir and the Munich Bach Orchestra by the legendary Karl Richter. “Legendary” is a term perhaps too readily bandied about, but in Richter’s case, I think, it’s apt. Richter was the bridge between the monumental pre-World-War-II Bach interpretations and the fleet, light HIP (“historically informed practiced”) style in favor today. Before coming to Munich in 1951 Richter sang in Dresden’s Kreuzchor and served as organist at Leipzig’s St. Thomas Church. In Munich he led the Heinrich Schütz Circle, renaming it the Munich Bach Choir in 1954 and launching a new era, both for Munich and for Bach. His many performances and recordings with the MBC and its companion orchestra made him one of the most influential Bach interpreters of 1950s, 60s, and 70s. His chorus was large by today’s standards, though a far cry from the 200-plus voices sometimes previously assembled for major Bach festivals. His tempos, too, were much more leisurely that those we have come to favor, but he purged the music of the bloat that had been all too common, and he imbued his interpretations with a new intensity. He was never tempted to replace his excellent orchestra with period-instrument specialists. It would be hard to over-estimate the influence of Richter’s Archiv recordings on the evolving scene. But he was swept away by the tsunami of the historically informed tide. He died of a heart attack in 1981, reportedly embittered by his marginalization.


Despite some collective self-doubt, the MBC survived its founder and found new life under the direction of Hanns-Martin Schneidt. Hansjörg Albrecht assumed leadership of the choir in 2005, and like Schneidt has sought to expand the choir’s repertory without diluting its main focus on the music of J. S. Bach.


The new recording finds the choir still in excellent shape—and still large. The roster lists 28 sopranos, 22 altos (all apparently female), just nine tenors, and 17 basses. Whether all sing in these performances is a matter for speculation. The orchestra is much more modest, with a 3-3-2-2-1 string cohort and the necessary winds and continuo. The performances are brisk—every movement in both works is shorter than its counterpart in Richter’s versions. Some skirt the edge of plausibility, but the choir always holds. The soloists are very good or better. It’s a fitting tribute to the founder.


The orchestral sinfonia (still played on modern instruments) that separates the two popular choral works was apparently intended for a cantata now otherwise lost. It’s good to have.


FANFARE: George Chien

The award-winning young Latvian organist Iveta Apkalna performs selected works by J.S. Bach and Philip Glass on the organ of the picturesque Himmerod Abbey in the Eifel, valley of the Salm, in Germany.

For a modern recorder player, historical performance practice is certainly both principle as well as a native musical language. But if one wants to perform the works of J.S. Bach, the repertoire is very slim. Stefan Temmingh’s love of Bach pushed him to take on this challenge and concern himself with performance practice in the baroque. In an extensive booklet text, he argues that the harpsichord literature in the baroque era was transcribed for other instruments quasi as a “lingua franca”. Reorchestrated versions of Bach’s Concerto for Four Harpsichords (itself an arrangement of Vivaldi compositions), for example, can be found from the 18th century, usually for one or two melody instruments with continuo.

Above all, this practice predominated in France, e.g. in connection with works by Couperin and Dieupart, which were certainly some of the sources of inspiration for Bach’s French Suites. Stefan Temmingh continues the long tradition of arranging such pieces for a melody instrument. Domen Marincic on the viola da gamba and Axel Wolf on the lute provide the ideal support for the basic sound of the recorder. Although this combination of instruments emphasizes another aspect of the composition, the fundamental idea behind the music does not change.