REVIEWS:

The Third Symphony was...favored by Karajan in the 1950s. It was the product of a composer in his sixties writing in his Normandy home at Vasterival. It was premiered by the Boston SO and Koussevitsky on 24 October 1930. The thud and thunder of the first movement contrasts with the pastoral melancholy meditation of the Adagio. This is followed by the fairground pleasantry of the Vivace and the massive fountains of exultation of the last movement. No wonder the audience - whose applause forms part of the track - greeted this performance with such warmth.

Le Festin is here given complete across 21 tracks. You are likely to enjoy this music - if you do already know it - if you already number Ravel's Ma Mère l'Oye and Debussy's Prélude a l'après midi d'un faune among your favorites. It has the magical elegance of the Ravel and the sultriness of the Debussy. Add to this the motorized thunder of Roussel's last two symphonies. It is superbly recorded - listen to the whispering distant gold of the violins in The Ants Dance in a Circle (tr. 16). The instrumental howls in the Funeral of the Gadfly (tr. 24) are memorable. Also in the same movement how similar some of the writing is to Ravel's dawn rustlings in Rapsodie espagnole. Those gentle rustles from the tam-tam suggest Ma Mère l'Oye. Eschenbach heartbreakingly captures the valedictory melancholy of Night falling on the deserted garden but brings out the solace too. This makes for an easy full price choice - poetically done in every aspect.

– Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

The liner notes for this release make the argument that French modernist Albert Roussel was the greatest composer of his time. It is an argument Christoph Eschenbach and the Orchestre de Paris do much to advance in these live performances. Coupling Le Festin de l'araignée from 1912 and the Symphony No. 3 from 1930, Eschenbach and the Parisian orchestra give Roussel's music the kind of clear-eyed, strong-willed performances that make the most of the composer's best features. Though distinctly of its prewar time, Le Festin de l'araignée nevertheless sounds brightly colorful, lightly ironic, and surprisingly inventive in this smoothly polished and vigorously rhythmic performance. The postwar Third Symphony sounds both of and above its time here, its angular themes, gleaming colors, and muscular rhythms brilliantly brought out by the German conductor and the French orchestra. If Eschenbach and the Parisian musicians' racing finale for the symphony, with its relentless polyrhythms, doesn't get your heart pumping, consult a doctor immediately. Recorded in vibrant live sound complete with appreciative applause, these performances may well convince the listener that Roussel is indeed underrated.

– James Leonard, All Music Guide

RESPIGHI Concerto in modo misolidio 1. Fountains of Rome • Sakari Oramo, cond; 1 Olli Mustonen (pn); Finnish RSO • ONDINE 1165 (53:53)


Sakari Oramo and his Finnish forces give us a sensitive if not outstandingly atmospheric performance of the earliest of Respighi’s Roman trilogy, the Fountains of Rome of 1916. The big moments are somewhat hampered by a lack of string power. The violins do not contribute as much as they should to the climax of the third movement (“Fontana di Trevi al meriggio”) and, unfortunately, the success of these Roman tone poems lies in balancing the weight of the fortissimos against the quiet passages of impressionistic introspection. The latter are meltingly played, with details like the distant church bells in the “Fontana di Villa Medici” perfectly balanced.


The main work on this disc is a rarity. Completed in 1925 and premiered in New York under Mengelberg, the Concerto in Mixolydian Mode is a large-scale Romantic piano concerto imbued with medieval church harmonies. Much of the first movement sounds like an extended fantasia on Debussy’s Engulfed Cathedral , beginning as it does with a chorale in full chords stated by the soloist. (The theme is based on the traditional introit for the Mass of Ascension Day.) The mixolydian mode is close to the major scale—only a flattened seventh differentiates them—and the piano’s first entry avoids that note, sounding for all intents and purposes to be in a major key. Gradually, modal harmony creeps in as the composer’s evocation of an earlier era is established.


Respighi’s concept of medieval times was, let us say, the polar opposite of Pasolini’s bawdy, earthbound vision; the composer envisaged the period as one of grandeur and ecclesiastical solemnity. These are the overriding characteristics of the lengthy first and second movements, which work their way through a number of musical episodes at an unhurried pace. In the second movement, the piano part becomes increasingly decorative, adding a glittering veneer to the basically sedate proceedings. Momentum is finally achieved in the passacaglia finale, but for all their lushness and lyricism it is probably the lack of impetus in the first two movements (totaling 27 minutes) that keeps Respighi’s concerto out of the repertoire. His Concerto Gregoriano for violin and orchestra of 1922, similarly based on ancient church modes, is more successful, though it too has its longeurs, while his 25-minute Toccata for piano and orchestra (1928)—another piano concerto in all but name—is saved by its spectacular final movement.


I have no wish to write this work off, however. There is a case to be made for it, and these musicians make that case convincingly. Olli Mustonen plays with uncharacteristic legato . Listen to his limpid interpretation of the first movement’s closing solo (around 15:30); this is certainly not the pianist who pecks his way through Beethoven. His lightness of touch in the passagework of the finale is a delight. This is very much a concerto where soloist and orchestra work as a partnership, and under Oramo the Finnish RSO contributes strong and often subtle support. The sound is clear and vivid. Previous recordings by Tozer and Scherbakov have been praised, but I cannot imagine them being superior in any way to this one. Recommended as a disc that could easily grow on you.


FANFARE: Phillip Scott


Respighi was proud of his Concerto in modo misolidio, and rightly so. It's a beautiful work, full of attractive melodies and effective writing for the soloist, and it deserves more exposure on the concert stage than it gets. This is hands down the best performance it has received thus far on disc. It's so typical that Mustonen (rather like Leopold Stokowski), who can be so perverse in his performances of the standard repertoire, offers such a faithful rendering of the piano part when confronted with a novelty item. This isn't to suggest that his performance lacks imagination or spirit: just the opposite. However, Respighi gives the soloist so much to do (much of the part is written on three staves) that there's certainly less room to fool around gratuitously, and so Mustonen doesn't.

The main competition in this work comes from Tozer/Downes on Chandos, a good performance that nonetheless sounds more than a touch stodgy next to this one. It takes some five minutes longer, almost all of it the central slow movement and concluding passacaglia. Mustonen and Sakari Oramo's extra energy in these movements pays huge dividends, effectively belying any view of the work as pretty but formally ungainly and lacking excitement. This is certainly the version to choose to get to know the concerto, particularly if you're coming to it for the very first time.

Only the coupling prevents this disc from getting the very highest rating. Actually, this is an excellent performance of Fountains of Rome, very well played, and glitteringly captured by the engineers. But there are many such, and it's a skimpy disc-mate, bringing total playing time only to 53 minutes. It would have been so much nicer to have some more neglected Respighi--my vote would have gone to a new version of Metamorphoseon, which shares a similar aesthetic to that of the piano concerto, or perhaps even the similarly modal Concerto gregoriano for violin. Still, as the finest version available of the main item, this disc will be self-recommending to Respighi fans (and piano buffs too).

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

To celebrate the 50th anniversary of the inauguration of President John F. Kennedy the National Symphony Orchestra presented a new work by Peter Lieberson called "Remembering JFK," an orchestral piece with movie star Richard Dreyfuss narrating excerpts from Kennedy's speeches. This CD includes that and previously unreleased pieces from Kennedy's 1961 Inaugural Concert. That concert includes Leonard Bernstein's "Fanfare for the Inauguration of John F. Kennedy" and "Symphonic Dances from 'West Side Story.' " Also included is George Gershwin's "Concerto in F."

REVIEW:

This CD is something of a birthday present of Ondine to itself—one that’s well deserved, I think. I hadn’t come across Marius Constant’s orchestration of Gaspard de la nuit, undertaken in 1990, before this recording. André Thomas’s booklet notes explain that Constant (1925–2004) was “tormented by a youthful obsession” when he sat down to the task. “I further increased the challenge to myself by deliberately choosing a Ravel-like instrumentation (the orchestra of La valse, in fact). However, I used the orchestra in new combinations, attempting to broaden its range of sonorities (thus breaking in passing certain persistent taboos in orchestration).” Constant succeeded brilliantly, Christoph Eschenbach obviously taking a physical delight—as I did and you can—in the virtuoso washes of sound that fly through the orchestra. The three movements of Gaspard are prefaced by the Aloysius Betrand poems that inspired Ravel’s piano originals, read in sexy-schoolmistress French by Carole Bouquet. Of the four other Ravel orchestral works, it’s the Alborado del gracioso that really cooks: Eschenbach draws a swaggeringly exciting account from his Paris players, who are duly more decorous in Le tombeau de Couperin, the rarely heard Menuet antique, and the ubiquitous Pavane. Small wonder that the audience erupts at the end of the Alborado—but this is the first signal of their presence; you wouldn’t know until now that these are live recordings. Ondine presents a “bonus track”—Tzimon Barto playing “Ondine,” the first movement of Gaspard, in its original piano incarnation.

For Constant’s extraordinarily imaginative orchestral realization of Gaspard alone, this disc is worth the outlay (it’s in demonstration sound, too). But there’s a feel-good factor, too: everyone involved—the orchestra, the artists, the publishers, and Ondine, have forsworn a portion of their earnings from the disc in favor of the Musée Maurice Ravel, in his house in Monfort l’Amaury, west of Paris, “to aid in the restoration and maintenance of the museum.”

-- Martin Anderson, Fanfare

The passing away of Einojuhani Rautavaara (1928–2016), one of the most performed Finnish composers after Sibelius, left a deep void in the field of Finnish contemporary music. This new album by cellist Tanja Tetzlaff and pianist Gunilla Süssmann includes Rautavaara’s rarely heard works written for cello and piano. The cornerstone of Rautavaara’s cello chamber music are the three sonatas. The earliest of the sonatas was written in 1969 and contains Baroque influences. Prior to this, the composer had already written Two Preludes and Fugues for cello and piano in 1955 firmly rooted in the Neo-Classical tradition as a young student. Soon after completing his solo cello sonata, the composer started writing his Neo-Romantic Sonata for Cello and Piano No. 1. However, the work was left unfinished and completed almost 30 years later, in 2001. Cello Sonata No. 2, completed in 1991, is much different in style, more modern and edgy, but based on a work written for a cello music competition in 1975. Polska (1977) for two cellos and piano is based on a folk tune from Rantasalmi. The origin of this work is connected to the genesis of Rautavaara’s first published opus, Fiddlers (Pelimannit) from the early 1950s. Song of My Heart (Sydämeni laulu) is the composer’s transcription from an aria included in his opera Aleksis Kivi (1995–96). In 2000, Rautavaara arranged the piece for cello, and fittingly for this funereal piece dedicated it to the memory of Estonian composer Lepo Sumera.

REVIEW:

As a mind-blowing display of technical accomplishment, I can only offer my congratulations to Tanja Tetzlaff who has a gorgeous Guadagnini cello of 1776 and an outstanding long-term piano partner in Gunilla Sussmann. Very good recorded quality and most highly recommended.

– David's Review Corner (David Denton)

The service of the Orthodox Church known as the All-Night Vigil has attracted many composers. Famous settings exist of parts or all of the service by Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninov among others. The service encompasses Vespers and Matins--the portions recorded here--interspersed with assorted prayers and chants. Among the traditions of the Orthodox Church are the complete absence of instruments, so for the music to be usable in a liturgical context it must all be for unaccompanied voices. In order to combat any potential monotony of sound, Rautavaara has deployed five soloists heard in various combinations with the large mixed choir that makes up the foundation of the music.

Rautavaara's music is audibly within the traditions of the Orthodox Church while retaining the stylistic traits common to his secular music. Although his rhythmic and harmonic usage ranges farther afield than might be associated with such music, actual traditional Slavic folk and liturgical music is rhythmically quite complex and startlingly dissonant, with much use made of seconds and sevenths. That said, little here would disturb any but the most conservative listener, and there is much of great beauty. The sound produced by the soloists and chorus is gorgeous.

REVIEWS:

BBC Music (5/98, p.59) - Performance: 5 (out of 5), Sound: 5 (out of 5) - "...If the prospect of an all-night vigil sung unaccompanied in Finnish doesn't enthrall you, don't worry: you're not alone. But give this disc a try, if you can: it delivers far more than it promises.

The most wonderful thing about Rautavaara's songs is that no matter what the technical basis of his compositional method, he understands that "song" means an evocative text set to a singable melody. You may not go away humming all of the tunes here, particularly in the brief, powerful, and oddly disturbing cycle God's Way (to poems by Bo Setterlind), but there's no questioning the fundamental rightness of Rautavaara's reaction to the words, or his ability to project his feelings into an expressive vocal line. That's not something to be taken for granted nowadays, when grateful and effective writing for the voice is no longer the basis of most composers' techniques, whether writing for people or for instruments.

The remaining four sets of songs on this disc all employ texts of the highest quality, by Shakespeare (in English, by the way), Rilke, and Finnish poet Aleksis Kivi. The Rilke settings are particularly moving, nowhere more so than The Lovers, whose third song, "Woman Loving", ought to be a recital classic by now. The three songs taken from the opera Aleksis Kivi also deserve to find a life of their own away from the larger work. They stand among the most hauntingly beautiful of Rautavaara's latest creations. Baritone Gabriel Suovanen sings all of this music with warm tone and great musical intelligence, and he couldn't be better accompanied than by Segerstam and the Helsinki Philharmonic. Ideally balanced sound rounds out this most enticing picture of Rautavaara's generously lyrical art.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

A MusicWeb International Recording of the Month!

Steadfast Ondine have here gathered four world premiere recordings of works by Finnish contemporary composer Rautavaara. In the 1970s and early 1980s I associated him with the thornier groves of avant-garde dissonance as evidenced by the Third Symphony. In fact, time and again, I have been reminded that Rautavaara reaches out to many listeners beyond any narrow elite. His early Cantus Arcticus (1972) is miraculously accessible. A concert late last year also underscored the same message. The BBC Philharmonic under Carlos Miguel Prieto in MediaCity Salford played his Symphony No. 7 Angel of Light. This is a surgingly and phantasmally lyrical three-quarter hour work belonging among the last century's melodic treasures, close to Silvestrov's Symphony No. 5, the symphonies of Alla Pavlova and Ned Rorem's Lions.

Rubáiyát (2015) is a song-cycle using verse from Edward Fitzgerald's translation/realization of the Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyam (1048–1131). We are fortunate to hear Gerald Finley singing it in its orchestral version. His voice is clear yet lush of tone. He sings across an incessantly inventive and beckoning orchestral arioso. His enunciation is sharply focused and while his 'line' is usually independent of the accompaniment he puts across the poetry's carpe diem philosophy with eloquence. Rautavaara does not shy from word and line repetition and grasps the opportunities provided by the most famous (least neglected) verses. The work begins with an abrupt plunge ‘in media res' and, as if further to emphasise the message, ends abruptly, without grace line or flourish, on the words 'O make haste'.

Verses have been popular with composers. Apart from Bantock's three-hour setting there are the song-cycle by Liza Lehmann, Arthur Foote's Character Pieces after Omar Khayyám, Robert Blum's Symphony No. 1 Omar Khayyám for orchestra and baritone, Lex van Delden's Omar Khayyám cantata, works by Charles Cadman, Henry Houseley, and in the 1970s, Alan Hovhaness's Rubaiyat for narrator, accordion and orchestra. There are also smaller-scale contributions from Hindemith and Penderecki.

Into the Heart of Light (Canto V - 2012) is the latest installment in the composer's series of works for string orchestra. The first of the Cantos dates from the 1960s. This glowingly confident example of lofty melodic writing for massed strings reaches across to the angelic ecstasy of the Seventh Symphony.

Balada (2014) sets texts by Lorca. It's a substantial piece for tenor, mixed choir and orchestra. On this occasion Mika Pohjonen is the soloist. The work was premiered in Madrid in May 2015. Its burning fervour injects a flaming drama which is put across with muscular commitment by both choir and orchestra. The music moves in approximately the same universe as the more demonstrative moments in John Tavener's big choral-orchestral works as well as recalling Szymanowski's Third Symphony Song of the Night and Barber's Prayers of Kierkegaard. As usual my intention here is to give some flavour of what you will hear, not to imply any lack of originality.

The Four Songs from the opera Rasputin are arrangements by the composer for mixed choir and orchestra. No doubt we will hear the whole opera before too long; the sooner the better. It's certainly a fruitful subject and story. The massed choral effect is redolent from time to time of Sibelius's Kullervo. The orchestral tissue gleams, shines and glitters around the plangent and awed singing. There's a touch of Mussorgsky's voice of the people here.

The notes by Kimmo Korhonen and a typically fine recording, lacking nothing in impact and subtlety, serve to complement some glorious music-making. This will make converts and have them exploring Ondine's already bejewelled Rautavaara pages.

– MusicWeb International (Rob Barnett)

This recording features the twelve-tone opera Kaivos (The Mine) by Einojuhani Rautavaara who also wrote the libretto (sung in Finnish). The opera in three acts tells the story of an uprising by mine workers somewhere in Europe at the end of the 1950s.

Rautavaara wrote this, his first opera, from 1957-62 and today considers it, "perhaps the best opera I have ever written, a real thriller whose underlying theme - that a human being defines himself through his choices - is nevertheless universal."

This CD release represents a real highlight in the work's exceptional history: the opera's underlying thematic allusions to the 1956 Hungarian uprising impeded a staged performance in Finland, a neighboring country of the then Soviet Union. Instead, a TV production was broadcast in 1963, making it the first Finnish Television opera. The present recording was made in connection with the premier live concert performance of the opera in Tampere (Finland) in September 2010, featuring the same cast.

REVIEW:

The Finnish Brass Symphony, directed by Hannu Lintu, has recorded a masterful survey of music by countryman Einojuhani Rautavaara. Spanning more than 45 years of the composer's work, the album functions as something of a compendium of themes that Rautavaara has returned to time and again in his music, from the dodecaphonic experiments of the Wind Octet to his ongoing fascination with angels. In this performance of 1981's Playgrounds for Angels, it becomes unclear if the playgrounds belong entirely to terrifying otherworldly beings or to these instrumentalists, whose superb ensemble skills definitely qualify them as supernaturally talented. 1953's A Requiem in our Time has been recorded at least four times, most memorably--until now--on a BIS disc with Brass Partout. The bold strokes and brash colors of this work are reflected in the more rare Soldier's Mass from 1968, whose "In Hora Mortis" movement presages the shimmering intensity of Rautavaara's later works.

A few shorter compositions round out the collection. Originally written as a compulsory piece for a trumpet competition, the Tarantará must have struck fear into the hearts of those brass players--in Rautavaara's hands, the instrument is nothing short of a wild animal that shrieks, growls, and leaps all over the register with dizzying speed. The extraordinary trumpeter Pasi Pirinen makes it all seem easy. The fanfare written for Finland's 75th independence anniversary is a mere 37 seconds long: blink twice, and you miss it entirely. The most recent composition, 1998's Hymnus for trumpet and organ, ably performed by Deborah Calland and Barry Millington, completes the survey. Kudos to Ondine for a marvelous recording.

--Anastasia Tsioulcas, ClassicsToday.com

The magical world of Einojuhani Rautavaara is one that evokes other realms. Angels figure particularly heavily, especially those angels that deal with death and destruction. As Rautavaara himself says, “My angels are not those like in the altarpieces of Raphael...my angels are powerful.”

As well as with angels, many mystics have been preoccupied with the language of the birds (Messiaen in music, but think also of Saint Francis of Assisi preaching to the birds). One of the most popular Finnish works of recent years has been the Cantus arcticus, for prerecorded bird sounds and orchestra. It is a hugely impressive three-movement soundscape marked by a timeless feel and by beautiful, glowing lines. The taped birds could easily have sounded like a cheap effect, so it is telling that they emerge as an integral part of the work’s emotional vocabulary. Segerstam’s performance is excellent, as one would expect from this fine musician.

The very title Autumn Gardens seems to invite comparison with Takemitsu—all we need is a descending flock of the birds from the Cantus arcticus. It is certainly easy on the ear, so much so that the acerbic, percussive dissonances of the third movement of the First Piano Concerto come as something of a relief. Gothóni is an excellent pianist here; his way with some rhythms makes me suggest he has links to jazz. Back to pure atmosphere for the Clarinet Concerto, though—truly excellently played by Stoltzmann.

The second disc begins with an Adagio celeste for string orchestra. The strings of the Belgian National Orchestra play really sumptuously in this gently pulsating score; the much more abrasive Flute Concerto excerpt that follows (complete with agile low bassoon and menacing percussion) acts as a necessary corrective, although it is not long before it, too, shows its delicate side.

True and False Unicorn is a reminder of Rautavaara’s stature as a composer of choral works. The second movement, “Young Sagittarius,” is full of delightfully light rhythmic play, as is In the shade of the willow. Anadyomene , subtitled “Adoration of Aphrodite,” evokes more of a sense of the massive, using expansive, coloristic writing and including moments of real light.

The final work, Angels and Visitations , has a deliberately ambiguous title. “Visitations” may indeed refer to the Annunciation, but it may equally invoke something more sinister. Climaxes, therefore, tend towards the darkly hued. There are shades of Sibelius during the course of the piece, but Rautavaara transforms the material so that it glows in a most un-Sibelian way. This tense score (with its Pétrouchka -like mêlée of sounds) is one of the most impressive on either disc here, and is an apt way to close.

Although other companies are championing the Rautavaara cause, most notably Naxos, Ondine has a certain authority. Both sides of Rautavaara’s personality—the meltingly beautiful and the near violent—are given a chance to make their mark here.

-- Fanfare

Sergei Rachmaninoff’s (1873-1943) rarely heard, unfinished opera Monna Vanna was the only major score he took with him into exile in the USA after the 1917 revolution. + This new recording is based on Gennadi Belov’s new edition and conducted by an iconic artist and Russian music expert Vladimir Ashkenazy. The second part of this disc features Finnish soprano Soile Isokoski singing seven Rachmaninov songs (including the hauntingly beautiful Vocalise), accompanied on the piano by Mr. Ashkenazy.

REVIEW:

After the “Classical,” Prokofiev’s Fifth is his second most popular symphony. With recordings of the score currently numbering around 75, Sakari Oramo and the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra have their work cut out for them to make their mark.

This, so far as I can tell, is only Oramo’s second go at Prokofiev on record. Up until now, Oramo is a conductor I’ve associated mainly with Sibelius and a number of other 20th-century Finnish composers, though I note from his discography that his repertoire is quite diverse.

In general, I like these performances. Oramo handles the spirited hijinks of the Fifth Symphony’s second movement with just the right touch of bad-boy, tongue-in-cheek humor, calling to mind Gershwin and a number of the French composers Prokofiev met during his time in Paris.

A very full disc (almost 80 minutes) and excellent recorded sound contribute to making this Ondine release an attractive and recommended addition to the Prokofiev discography.

-- Fanfare: Jerry Dubins

This is the second and final disc in a cycle of Sergei Prokofiev’s (1891–1953) piano concertos with pianist Olli Mustonen and the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Hannu Lintu. The Gramophone Magazine wrote regarding the first volume in the series: "How many times have I regretted a shortage of fantasy, flair and fairy-tale imagination in recordings of the Prokofiev piano concertos? Well, here is a disc that takes all those qualities to the top."

Prokofiev’s Piano Concertos are among 20th century masterpieces. He wrote this magical work just before World War I. The original score was destroyed during the Russian revolution, and Prokofiev had to re-write the concerto in 1923.

Pianist Olli Mustonen has worked with most of the world’s leading orchestras, including the Berlin Philharmonic, New York Philharmonic and The Royal Concertgebouw, partnering conductors such as Ashkenazy, Barenboim, Dutoit, Eschenbach, Harnoncourt, Masur and Nagano. As a recitalist, he plays in all the significant musical capitals, including Mariinsky Theatre St Petersburg, Wigmore Hall, Beethoven-Haus Bonn, Symphony Center Chicago, New York Zankel Hall and Sydney Opera House. His many albums for Ondine include Respighi’s Concerto in modo Misolidio with Sakari Oramo and the Finnish Radio Symphony and a critically acclaimed disc of Scriabin’s solo piano music. The recent recordings by the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra under Hannu Lintu on Ondine have been a fruitful collaboration gathering excellent reviews in the international press.

Ondine is pleased to announce a long-term recording collaboration with German violinist Christian Tetzlaff, internationally recognized as one of the leading soloists of his generation. The selection of these sonatas for piano and violin by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart demonstrate distinctly the composer's ingeniousness and show a wide range and strong ambiguity of emotions.