Orchestral and Symphonic
8494 products
Bruckner: Symphony No. 4 / Honeck, Pittsburgh Symphony
Berlioz: Harold en Italie... / Ehnes, Davis
-----
The nine-time Juno-winning Canadian James Ehnes is centre stage in a new recording of orchestral works by Berlioz, with the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra conducted by Sir Andrew Davis. This recording was made following an extraordinary concert in November 2014 with the same forces, in which James Ehnes played two instruments made by Stradivarius, respectively a viola in the solo part of Harold en Italie – ‘symphony with a principal viola part’, in Berlioz’s words – and a violin in the solo of Rêverie et Caprice, both of which works feature here.
Berlioz was never ashamed to recycle his music from one work to another, especially when the earlier work had been rejected by the public or by the composer himself. In 1834, Paganini asked Berlioz for a work in which he could display his prowess on a fine Stradivarius viola. Berlioz then composed the four-movement symphony Harold en Italie, incorporating passages from the Rob-Roy overture which he had recently rejected.
Similarly, Rêverie et Caprice was the form eventually given to an aria from the opera Benvenuto Cellini, unceremoniously booed in Paris in 1838. Berlioz transformed the aria into a piece with solo violin three years later. It is the only piece Berlioz ever wrote for solo violin. - Chandos
Digital CD 16Bit 44.1Khz and originally recorded in: 24Bit 96Khz.
SCHUBERT: PIANO SONATAS D664 769A & 894
Der Prinz / Montreal Guitar Trio
Mariss Jansons: Portrait - Beethoven, Haydn, Mahler, R. Strauss & More / BRSO
In an interview about great conductors with the newspaper Die Welt in 2015, Sir Simon Rattle said of Mariss Jansons, “He’s the best of all of us!” This new release from BR-Klassik focuses on the career of Mariss Jansons, and contains a total of five albums offering a representative cross-section of the classical symphonic repertoire- as well as a cross-section of the repertoire for which the chief conductor of the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks has been highly praised again and again for his outstanding interpretative qualities. Landmarks of great choral music can be found here, as well as milestones in symphonic development and select orchestral songs. The works range from music of the First Viennese School to early 20th-century late romanticism; from Haydn’s “Harmoniemesse” to the Minuet from Haydn’s Symphony Hob. I:88; from Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony, Brahms’ Fouth Symphony and Mahler’s Ninth Symphony to Strauss’ Eine Alpensinfonie.
REVIEW
Jansons’ thoughtful interpretations are consistently clear and often profoundly insightful, and the playing of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra is impressive, whether in purely orchestral performances or with the Bavarian Radio Chorus in the Haydn and the Stravinsky. Considering Jansons’ high productivity, this set can only give a small sample of his many recordings, but fans who have yet to delve into his full repertoire will appreciate this package.
– AllMusic Guide.com
Strauss: Symphonic Poems Vol 2 / Neeme Järvi
All tracks have been digitally mastered using 24-bit technology.
Bryars: Nothing Like the Sun
Maxwell Davies: Symphony No 3 / Maxwell Davies, Bbc Philharmonic Orchestra
After the success of Peter Maxwell Davies's ten 'Naxos' Quartets commissioned by the label (see review of boxed set for details), here come the Symphonies, with the first five re-released by Naxos in 2012 so far.
Like the first two and the following two, this recording of Symphony no.3 originally appeared on the now subsumed Collins Classics label in the mid-Nineties (14162). Back then, it was the only work on the disc, the ink still wet on the score of Cross Lane Fair, which came out a year later on the same label (14602), coupled with the much shorter Fifth Symphony.
The Third is a sprawling, elemental work, as wind-swept and rain-lashed as Maxwell Davies's home on Orkney, although the tumultuous seascape is perhaps more abstractly represented than in the Second Symphony. Those who know the composer only through the simple, pretty piano piece Farewell to Stromness, or even his most popular orchestral piece, An Orkney Wedding With Sunrise, are in for a surprise!
The Malcolm Arnoldish pizzazz, wit and sound effects of An Orkney Wedding are more in evidence in the nine-section Cross Lane Fair, in which Maxwell Davies reanimates childhood fairground visits around his native Salford. Quite what Northumbrian smallpipes and Irish bodhrán players were doing in Salford is never explained, nor how he manages to recall so vividly the sounds and atmosphere of evenings from nearly sixty years previously, when by his own admission a lad of only four or five!
Northumbrian smallpipes are like the archetypal Highland bagpipes but smaller, and kept inflated by an underarm bellows rather than a player's necessarily strong lungs. Their harmonica-like tone, as this recording demonstrates, is considerably softer than the bagpipes, and pitting them against an orchestra is an unlikely idea. Maxwell Davies certainly knows how to orchestrate effectively, and the smallpipes and bodhrán do their stuff when the tutti are subdued or even silent, as in the bodhrán solo in the section entitled 'The Juggler' - which, bizarrely, is met by score-directed human cheers and applause.
Sound quality in both recordings is very good, especially when their age is taken into consideration.
The booklet notes are detailed with regard to the works themselves, but there is no information at all about the two soloists, nor about the bodhrán or Northumbrian smallpipes - in the latter's case, there are variations of and idiosyncrasies associated with the basic instrument, and a note of enlargement would not have gone amiss.
The timing is generous, however, and the performances first-rate. In all, this is an almost essential purchase for everyone interested in contemporary British music.
-- Byzantion, MusicWeb International
Dvorak: Slavonic Dances / Farrer, RPO
Infernal Violins / Angèle Dubeau, La Pietà
This package includes 1 CD and a DVD.
Gudmundsen-Holmgreen, P.: Plateaux / For Piano
LEGACY OF CHARLES MUNCH
Scarmolin, A.L.: Orchestral Music
Nyman: The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat / Trevino, Williamson, Nashville Opera
It is difficult to pin down just what makes this opera so appealing; let’s just say that it is an opera, like Nixon, in which everything works. This performance is a fine one; in particular, the two men speak and sing so clearly that an English speaker needs no libretto.
– Fanfare
This performance is a fine one; in particular, the two men speak and sing so clearly that an English speaker needs no libretto. “Neurology’s favourite term is deficit. The word denotes impairment, or incapacity of neurological function. Loss of language, memory, vision, dexterity, identity and a myriad of other lacks and losses of specific function.” One could not find many opera libretti that begin with words that would seem more at home in The Lancet; but, then again, Michael Nyman’s The Man who Mistook his Wife for a Hat is no ordinary opera. It is based on an essay of the same name published in 1985 by the distinguished neurologist Dr Oliver Sacks (1933?2015), who, alongside Christopher Rawlence and Michael Morris, was also responsible for Nyman’s libretto. Largely dependent as it is on notes made by Sacks about an actual case, the opera has no real plot as such. It simply depicts two meetings between a neurologist (called Dr S.), a patient, and his wife. The first meeting takes place in the neurologist’s surgery, the second, longer one in the patient’s home. During these encounters it gradually becomes clear that the patient, a distinguished singer and teacher called Dr P., is suffering from a condition called visual agnosia, which in essence prevents him from recognizing or understanding what he sees. Both his hearing and, bizarrely, his actual eyesight are fine, his voice and musicality are undimmed, and he can play a mean game of imaginary chess; but his “mental blindness” results, for example, in him asking directions of a parking meter, trying to shake hands with a music stand and, heartbreakingly, thinking his wife is actually his hat. At one point in the opera the neurologist asserts that there is “no trace of dementia” in Dr P.’s behaviour; but Oliver Sacks subsequently stated that the symptoms suffered by the real-life patient on whose case the work is based were related to the early onset of Alzheimer’s disease – an insight which, for many listeners, will lend this twenty-year-old opera an eerily contemporary feel.
Knowledge of this clinical background might lead the prospective listener to expect an unrelievedly grim work. But that is not really the case. Not only are there moments of black, indeed Kafka-esque humour, but there is much also about compassion and love. The neurologist, for example, could hardly be more different from, say, the cruel, inhuman sawbones of Berg’s Wozzeck. At the very beginning he expresses dissatisfaction with neurology’s tendency to focus on “everything that patients aren’t, and nothing that they are”, wishing instead to “restore the human subject at the centre”; and he retains a genuine interest in and compassion for Dr P., assuring him, for example, at the end that “I cannot tell you what is wrong… But I know what is right.”
Then there is Mrs P., the singer’s wife. She emerges as a thoroughly sympathetic character, who is forced to undergo an emotional journey into which the listener is drawn and with which he or she can fully identify. Initially Mrs P. seems in denial (or perhaps is simply being over-protective), when she tells the neurologist that her husband is “as fit as a fiddle” and just “makes silly mistakes, more like practical jokes”. Later on, though, we become more clearly aware of her very real love and admiration for her husband: she continually praises him and his singing, expresses vicariously hurt pride when the neurologist suggests that changes in his painting style are due to his illness rather than any process of artistic maturation, and cannot hide her all too understandable fears for his future.
Finally, this opera is to some extent also a hymn of praise to the power of music. Music is, quite literally, all that keeps Dr P. going: his musical gifts are still very much intact; he sings to himself all the time; and, as the neurologist says at the end, in essence he uses music to organize his life, so that the only relevant prescription can be: “More music”. Not, of course, that this can lead to an entirely happy ending. The opera’s last words, spoken by the neurologist in retrospect, are: “To this inner soundtrack he moved, he acted, Fluently. Cogently. But, when the music stopped… so did he”. So music can’t be or do everything; but while there’s music, there’s hope.
As to Nyman’s music ? well, predictably enough, it consists in the main of recitative-like vocal lines supported by a repetitively chugging chamber group consisting of two violins, a viola, two cellos, a harp and a piano. But there is much more to it than that. There are certainly some operatic subject-matters to which a basically minimalist style would not be suited; but here it works well. Nyman’s steady rhythms and additive processes here create a sense of inexorable nervous tension, which has the effect of reflecting very vividly the gradual but relentless loss of Dr P.’s powers of cognition. By way of contrast, this nervous tension is frequently interrupted by slower, more lightly scored passages, which tend to accompany reflections on proceedings by the neurologist, but can also involve less predictable elements, such as a full performance of Schumann’s ‘Ich grolle nicht’ from Dichterliebe, which Dr P. delivers to his wife’s piano accompaniment. A particularly good example of Nyman’s ability to vary his musical material within a consistent style comes in a five-minute passage towards the end of the scene in the neurologist’s surgery: the tempo accelerates as Dr P. describes the “darting details” (a sunflower, a snowflake, a map of Dresden, a dinosaur) that flash fleetingly into his mind; this gives way first to an almost arioso passage where he imagines a river and an idyllic guest house, and then to a more heavily scored, faster one that climaxes in his bizarre yet humanly tragic misidentification of his hat. Cumulatively, the music gives expression to a mixture of ongoing tension and emotional ups and downs which will strike many listeners as sensitively reflecting the experience of observing and accompanying a person afflicted with a degenerative illness.
The new Naxos performance of Nyman’s work is based on a production given by Nashville Opera in November 2013. Indeed, one of its functions is clearly to provide a souvenir of that occasion: there is a brief note by the director, John Hoomes, and a veritable smorgasbord of credits naming everyone even remotely associated with the production, from the pianist’s page turner through the make-up artist to every conceivable luminary of the Nashville Opera Association. That said, there is nothing to suggest that the CD itself was recorded ‘live’: the sound is of excellent ‘studio’ quality, and there are no audience or stage noises.
The three young singers generally acquit themselves well. Curiously, given that one sings the Duke of Mantua and the other Sparafucile, the (pleasingly) baritonal tenor, Ryan MacPherson and the bass, Matthew Treviño initially sound rather like each other – a situation which isn’t helped by the seeming misattribution of some of their lines in the online libretto. But that impression doesn’t really last, and both clearly have the measure of their roles, combining expressiveness with excellent diction. The rather brittle, fluttery soprano of Rebecca Sjowäll will not please all ears, but she gives a vivid performance as the unfortunate wife, rising well to her occasional ‘big moments’ ? such as her anguish when, following a period of relative lucidity, Dr P. fails to recognize a photograph of his mother, and her anger when the neurologist speaks seemingly unkindly of her husband’s painting. Dean Williamson and his musicians give a thoroughly sound and sensitive account of the score, though one which seems to me rather to underplay its humour.
Overall, it would be idle to pretend that this new recording supersedes that on CBS Masterworks (MK 44669) featuring such seasoned campaigners as Emile Belcourt and Frederick Westcott, and conducted by the composer. I have seen no evidence, however, to suggest that this 1987 issue remains generally available, or that there have been any other recordings since. In that context especially, the Nashville recording can be warmly welcomed and recommended. One could do with slightly older singers, and the performance as a whole perhaps lacks something in characterful individuality; on the other hand, there is nothing seriously wrong with it, the sound is good, and – above all – it restores to the catalogue a highly unusual work of real craftsmanship and considerable depth.
– MusicWeb International (Nigel Harris)
Bruckner: Symphony No. 7
Pizzetti: Canti Della Stagione Alta / Oleg Caetani, Boris Statsenko
Does Marco Polo still exist as a label? Created under the mantle “the label of discovery” it used to be the Naxos main outlet for music from the world’s highways and byways. Now that Naxos seems to embrace all and every style of music and at a bargain price I’m guessing Marco Polo has quietly slipped away. Over the years Naxos has reissued many earlier Marco Polo discs and this is one such – a straight reissue of the 1999 disc. I missed it first time round and I am sorry that I did – it is a CD of rare but instantly appealing music convincingly performed.
Ildebrando Pizzetti is one of a group of Italian composers – the others included Respighi, Malipiero and Casella - who sought to modernise Italian opera as well as establishing a body of non-operatic Italian music. All of the music presented here is intensely dramatic – not surprising in a composer who produced more than a dozen operas as well as incidental and film music. Even the piano concerto here Canti della stagione alta is intensely pictorial. The disc opens with the prelude to Pizzetti’s first Opera Fedra. This opens with a strangely hypnotic sinuous melody (monody really) from the violas that immediately flags up one of Pizzetti’s great interests – Gregorian Chant yet this seamlessly moves into an impassioned lyrical outburst for the full orchestra within half a minute – it is powerfully dramatic and makes one want to hear more of the full opera. If you think that Puccini had yet to write Il Trittico or Turandot at the time Fedra was first performed you can hear what a new path Pizzetti was trying to forge. It is still very romantic and lyrical but quite different from the music of his more illustrious contemporary.
The major work presented here is the piano concerto of 1930 Canti della stagione alta (Songs of the High Season). Keith Anderson’s erudite - as usual - notes capture the sound world of this piece well. The music is immediately ‘open-air’, modal in flavour and with a rhapsodic feel - the long singing lines of the strings show a composer of a naturally lyrical bent. The way the woodwinds ornament and muse over their opening material is very beautiful. It doesn’t grab your attention by the use of great arching melodies instead it creates its effects by use of texture and atmosphere – Pizzetti handles the orchestra and soloist with great confidence. Certainly if you like your piano concertos big-boned, tonal and of a romantic cut this is for you. Running at a shade under thirty minutes this is not a huge work but it feels bigger than that. Not to imply that it outstays its welcome – far from it. As the first movement develops it moves away from the pastoral to something altogether more dramatic with double octave passages in the piano tossed off with conspicuous ease. There is a heraldic quality to some of Pizzetti’s brass writing that I really enjoy. Yes it could be argued there is a cinematic element to it but it works for me! The slow second movement is altogether simpler although once again the central climax is heavily brass led but I do like the way this immediately gives way to a quietly modal string passage with some distant brass figures – sounding deliberately archaic – decorating the music. Not having seen a score it is hard to know exactly how Pizzetti achieves the effect but the metre of the work is very flexible with a strong sense of regular predictable bar-lines removed. Instead we can feel the underlying basic pulse – once again this seems to be a stylistic nod towards the melodic fluidity of plainsong. The finale is played attacca leaping straight from the final notes of the second movement. This is a true rondo which – again I agree with Keith Anderson here – has echoes of an Italianate Rachmaninov although the quirky string led fugal passage and a final exciting brass peroration are uniquely Pizzetti’s own. This proved to be a very pleasurable discovery indeed. The disc is completed by music Pizzetti wrote for a silent movie in 1914 – Cabiria. What an extraordinary event this must have been – the bulk of the music for this two and a half hour epic was assembled - as was so often the case with early silent film scores - from standard orchestral repertoire. However for a key sequence – involving the sacrifice of 100 children to the God of Carthage Moloch! – Pizzetti was commissioned to provide this ten minute sequence involving large orchestra, baritone soloist and chorus. That it is pictorial is clear from the very first bars and again benefits from a performance of great flair. To be honest it is the piece on this disc I would least often return but it is not trying to be anything but colourful and illustrative – there is none of the subtlety or emotional weight that marks out the other pieces here. Conversely I cannot think of another example of so early a dedicated film score of this originality and power. Well worth a listen in that historical context alone. Quite how it sat next to excerpts of Mozart Mendelssohn and Gluck I do not have a clue!
The price of discovery for many of the early Marco Polo discs was the dubious quality of the performances and recordings. I’m pleased to say that this is not the case here. The Robert Schumann Philharmonie play this unfamiliar repertoire with great sensitivity and technical assurance. Only a couple of brief moments of string edginess in the second movement shows that the concerto was taken from live performances but in fact the balance and sound stage is excellent and the audience is totally inaudible. The rapport between the husband and wife team of Oleg and Susanna Stefani Caetani is excellent and the liner notes make clear that the concerto is part of her active repertoire. This clearly benefits the piece with a thoroughly convincing performance in every respect. Likewise the two filler pieces which are studio recordings from the same period – powerfully performed and well recorded.
Running to less than fifty minutes this is a rather under-filled disc although we would have been happy with that in the days of LP’s and at Naxos’ bargain price given the quality on offer I don’t really feel I can complain. All in all a disc of far greater musical and technical quality than I was expecting. It makes me want to hear the recently released Concerto dell’estate (Naxos 8.572013) as well as the complete Fedra.
Indulgently romantic piano concerto performed with bravura assurance.
-- Nick Barnard, MusicWeb International
PROUD SONGSTERS: ENGLISH SOLO SONG
ORCHESTRAL MASTERPIECES
MENDELSSOH & SINDING: VIOLIN CONCERTOS
Brahms: Symphonies Nos. 1-4 / Orozco-Estrada, Tonkünstler Orchestra
Thuille, Poulenc & Françaix: Sextets
Peter Maxwell Davies: The Lighthouse
Overtures
Smetana: Má vlast, JB 1:112
