BRUCKNER Symphonies: No. 4; 1 No. 9. 2 MOZART Symphony No. 35 in D “Haffner” 3 • Bruno Walter, cond; 1 NBC SO. 2 Philadelphia O. 3 New York PO • MUSIC & ARTS CD-1262 (2 CDs: 127:30) Live: 1 02/10/1940, 2 02/28/1948, 3 02/06/1944


Having recently obtained an extensive collection of acetates from the estate of a private music collector, the Music & Arts label is issuing some fruits of that here in the form of live performances by Bruno Walter. Two items—the Bruckner Ninth and the Mozart “Haffner” symphonies—are previously unissued items; the Bruckner Fourth was released on Pearl GEMM CD 9131 but here enjoys slightly but tangibly superior sound. While still constricted, it is tolerably listenable by the standards one would expect for a recording of that vintage. Here the weak bass register is noticeably stronger and clearer, background hiss is slightly reduced, occasional fluctuations in pitch have been evened out, and assorted clicks and pops and similar extraneous noises excised or reduced. However, the Pearl release is still not superfluous, as this issue does not include the filler pieces by Weber and Smetana (the overtures to Oberon and The Bartered Bride ).


While none of these items is, strictly speaking, a novelty in the Walter discography, the performance of the Bruckner Fourth preserved here is of particular interest to both Brucknerians and Walterians. The Walter discography contains only two versions of this score: the live one presented here, and the conductor’s studio recording with the Columbia Symphony Orchestra, recorded from February 13-25, 1960. (The discography of the CSO is complex, because Columbia used that moniker for several different studio orchestras in various locales. In Walter’s case, the monaural recordings are with a reduced contingent of the New York Philharmonic and other local musicians, while his stereo recordings are with a core ensemble drawn from the Los Angeles Philharmonic and the Los Angeles Festival Orchestra, supplemented by members of various Hollywood film studio orchestras.) The Sony SMK 64 481 issue of the studio performance is presently available—as are most of the titles in Sony’s erstwhile “Bruno Walter Edition”—as an ArkivMusic reprint.


What is most remarkable is how radically Walter’s conception of this piece changed over 20 years, with the respective timings providing an initial indication: 16:32, 14:32, 8:27, and 18:32 versus 18:40, 15:37, 10:59, and 20:46. Walter does use different editions of the score—the 1888-89 Löwe/Guttmann version in 1940, and the 1936 Haas edition of the 1878/80 version in 1960. (For the 1960 recording I am taking the word of John F. Berky on his abruckner.com discography site over that of Sony, which states in its CD booklet that Walter used the 1953 Nowak edition.) However, this in no way accounts for the differences, as most of them are matters of instrumental detail (e.g., the radically reduced orchestration in the Scherzo at 8:13-8:16 in the 1940 performance as compared to the same passage at 8:20-8:23 in the 1960 recording) rather than cuts in the score. Instead, Walter’s earlier interpretation is far more volatile, not only in terms of significantly faster tempi but also in more generous use of accelerandi and other tempo modifications. For example, in 1940 there is an adrenaline rush on an ascending scale from 1:41 to 1:52 not employed in 1960, while in the fourth movement the 1940 performance takes only a mild ritardando at 8:13 to 8:16 but in 1960 a very emphatic one in the same passage at 8:20 to 8:23. In 1940 the Scherzo movement is taken at an exceptionally brisk pace, whereas in 1960 it is stately, with the trio section being positively languorous. Similarly, whereas in 1960 Walter squares off phrases in the more emphatic manner common to most Bruckner performances nowadays, demarcating discrete units as aural equivalents of the giant stone blocks used to construct Gothic cathedrals, in 1940 the phrasing is noticeably more fluid and linear, particularly in woodwind runs that ripple like rapidly flowing rivulets (cf. at 15:24 in the first movement). How much these changes owe to the oft-noted differences in Walter’s recordings made before and after his March 1957 heart attack, and how much they may owe to the conductor possibly seeking to elaborate greater distinctions between his approaches to Bruckner and Mahler, can only be a subject of speculation. In any case, in these respects the 1940 performance is akin to the relatively few complete Bruckner symphony performances that survive from before WW II, and suggest an earlier school of performance which is now well-nigh extinct. Both for that reason, and for the intriguing snapshot of how Walter’s interpretation of this piece shifted over the years, this recording is of particular interest for collectors of historical performances.


The companion performance in this set of the Bruckner Ninth lacks the same degree of intrinsic value, in that there are eight surviving recorded performances from Walter’s baton, variously given with the New York Philharmonic, Philadelphia Orchestra, Vienna Philharmonic, Los Angeles Philharmonic, and Columbia Symphony. The table below provides details for comparison. In this and the succeeding tables, if a particular performance has appeared more than once on CD, I have cited the best version currently in print; studio recordings are marked with an asterisk. For the timings in this instance, I have used those provided by Mark W. Kluge in his notes to the 2003 Music and Arts release of the 1946 performance, except for the 1948 and 1950 performances not listed by him.




FANFARE: Date Orchestra CD Issue (if any) Timings


03/17/46 NYP Music & Arts CD-1110 21:42 9:37 19: 42


02/28/48 PO Music & Arts CD-1262 21:19 9:43 19:28


02/02/50 NYP none (private collection) 20:12 9:55 19: 15


08/20/53 VPO Andromeda ANDRCD 9092 21:10 10:09 19:17


12/27/53 NYP Tahra TAH 571 20:32 10:09 19:46


02/10/57 NYP Music & Arts CD-1212 19:59 10:01 19: 14


11/13/59 LAP none (private collection) 22:30 10:53 21: 58


11/16-19/59 CSO Sony SMK 64 483* 23:51 11:29 23:16


As Kluge rightly states in the booklet notes to the 2003 disc of Walter’s 1946 performance, “Walter’s live performances of the Ninth Symphony preserved on tape show a certain consistency, varying in individual nuance rather than interpretive outline”. In the booklet notes to the present release he further observes, “All of his live performances of the score display certain common interpretive details,” of which he provides several examples, such as “the very precise (almost clipped) brass interjections in the opening bars.” Unremarked upon by Kluge, except for a passing observation that the studio account “lacks the fire of Walter’s live performances,” is the extraordinary speed and drive of Walter’s conception of the work, which in the pre-1959 performances clocks in at between 49:22 (the fastest recorded performance by any conductor) and 51:01. Among the almost 400 complete performances listed in the abruckner.com discography, only Volkmar Andreae, Jascha Horenstein, Georg-Ludwig Jochum, Roger Norrington, plus (amazingly) John Barbirolli and Hans Knappertsbusch, have timings within three minutes of Walter. This work alone gives the lie to the stereotype of Walter as a cushy, gentle interpreter given solely to Gemütlichkeit rather than Sturm und Drang.


Despite their overall similarity, the pre-1959 performances do not suffer from lack of variety or interest. With the exception of the live 1959 performance, which stems from a relatively poor source, the sound quality improves incrementally with the more recent performance date, though the sonic differences between the three performances from 1953-57 are rather minimal. For me, the key factor in evaluating the first six performances is Walter’s approach to and follow-through from the fortissimo recapitulation of the first theme of the opening movement, beginning at about halfway through the movement. For the approach to the recapitulation, the recap itself, and the section immediately thereafter, Walter demarcates each of the three sections with a marked caesura and tempo adjustment. There are noticeable differences to how he does this in several of the performances; although these may simply be differences of the moment, they suggest instead that he was not entirely satisfied with his handling of these sections and was constantly searching for new and better solutions. I find the 1946 performance to be the least satisfactory; as the timing of the first movement indicates, Walter there inserts greater pauses and slows down each section more than usual, causing the whole to lose coherency and momentum and to bog down. Walter also takes two major ritardandi early on, at 1:55 and 3:00, that he drops after the 1948 Philadelphia performance, which has a similarly hobbling effect. (For a more positive response, see Robert McColley’s review back in 26:6.) By contrast, the unreleased 1950 performance is the most successful, having a fierce energy and the least pronounced breaks and tempo deceleration.


The three performances from 1948 and 1953 occupy a middle ground between these extremes; here the differences are to be found more in the distinctive timbres of the respective orchestras. In his booklet notes to the 1946 performance, Kluge states that “the warmer style of the Vienna Philharmonic added a sense of plasticity and nuance not as evident in the later [1953] New York performance,” given the latter orchestra’s “virile, even aggressive playing style.” I would agree, but I find a certain slackness present in the Vienna performance as well, and its recorded sound is slightly more recessed. Comparing the New York and Philadelphia ensembles in the present booklet notes, Kluge correctly finds “a contrast in style between the two ensembles. The Philharmonic sonority is bold and brassy, making the most of Bruckner’s dramatic climaxes. However the Philadelphia ensemble, even in its first encounter with the score, adds a patina of refinement”—due no doubt to the orchestra’s fabled string section. Finally, in 1957 Walter attempts a hybrid solution that combines pronounced Luftpausen with his briskest tempi, a solution I prefer to all but the 1950 performance (see also the positive review by Jeffrey J. Lipscomb in 32: 3).


The two 1959 performances are, as their timings indicate, of a very different character—ultimately no less dramatic, but more monumental and in line with the mainstream of Bruckner interpretations, while also evincing the more rounded edges of Walter’s trademark lyricism in other repertoire. Given both the relatively poor sound of the preceding live performance, and some ill-fitting junctures in it that suggest Walter’s new interpretation not to be fully settled, the studio recording is easily preferable between those two. Along with the 1957 performance—and that of 1950, for those few who can find it from private sources—the studio recording is also one of the top choices for Brucknerians who want Walter represented in their collections.


Despite Walter’s intense devotion to Bruckner following his recovery from a near-fatal bout of double pneumonia in 1927 (Walter credited his convalescence with giving him the spiritual repose needed to comprehend Bruckner rightly), many commentators have regarded his studio Bruckner recordings, especially that of the Ninth, as relative weak points in his discography. Devoted Walterian that I am, I nevertheless agree with that assessment; Walter never mastered the timing of the numerous pauses in Bruckner’s symphonic movements, and choosing the manifold subtle shifts in tempi needed to make the sprawling movements cohere, to the same degree as did Wilhelm Furtwängler and Eugen Jochum, my own Bruckner reference standards. Part of the fault here, however, lies not with Walter but with Columbia’s miscalculated decision to use an orchestra of only 65 players for the recording sessions—possibly due to a degree of parsimony, but also because the extremely lively acoustics of Legion Hall would have caused a full-sized orchestra to be swamped with reverberation. The fact that Walter almost fully succeeds in disguising the paucity of string players and producing a genuine Brucknerian orchestral sound testifies to near-miraculous conductorial skills.


The 1948 performance of the Bruckner Ninth in Philadelphia was paired in concert with a performance of Mozart’s “Haffner” Symphony. Since only the Bruckner was broadcast for a one-hour time slot, the performance of the Mozart was not preserved. In its stead, Music and Arts has thoughtfully provided a previously unreleased 1944 New York Philharmonic broadcast of the work. Mozart occupies a large and special place in Walter’s discography. In terms of frequency of surviving performances, the “Haffner” has seven recordings—five live and two studio, with the NBC Symphony, Boston Symphony, New York Philharmonic, and Columbia Symphony. It thus ranks behind No. 40 (eleven performances, eight live and three studio) and No. 39 (eight recordings, five live and three studio), and is tied with the “Prague” (seven recordings, four live and three studio). The following table again provides details for comparison; note that Tahra misdates the 1953 performance to January 5 instead of January 4.


Date Orchestra CD Issue (if any) Timings


02/17/40 NBC SO Andromeda ANDRCD 9012 5:02 4:31 3:10 3: 33


02/06/44 NYP Music and Arts CD-1262 5:15 4:44 3:16 3: 33


01/21/47 BSO Wing WCD 58 (Japan) 5:11 4:29 3:17 3:37


02/05/50 NYP none (private collection) 5:33 5:05 3: 25 3:43


01/04/53 NYP Tahra TAH 571-572 5:29 4:54 3:33 3:55


01/16/53 NYP Sony SMK 64 473* 5:27 4:44 3:21 3:46


01/13-21/59 CSO Sony SM3K 46 511* 5:58 5:13 3:49 4:04


Here one notes that until the final, post-heart attack, stereo recording, Walter’s interpretive approach remains remarkably consistent, broadening very slightly in tempi with the passing years. As before, sound quality generally improves in successive performances, save for the decidedly poor-sounding Boston Symphony issue and the somewhat tubby sound of the unedited source for the 1950 performance. Yet here, too, there are subtle differences, with the 1944 performance under review being the most distinctive. At 1:15 in the first movement, Walter slows the tempo for the lyrical counter-subject to a far greater degree than elsewhere, and likewise beginning at 4:40 accelerates the tempo to a far greater degree to provide a whirlwind close. Not unexpectedly from an ensemble drilled under Toscanini, the NBC performance features particularly strong, crisp accents on chords and fluid runs on strings and winds. The live 1953 performance has a higher voltage than the studio recording that followed it, though it suffers from a rather glassy, shrill treble register (for a different opinion on the last point, see Mortimer H. Frank’s review in 14:4). The stereo recording has of course by far the best sound, but its slower tempi drain it of the vitality characteristic of Walter’s earlier performances. The 1944 performance is in surprisingly good sound for its time, and I would rate it alongside the two 1953 versions as the best of his performances of this work.


The remasterings of the original sources have obviously been done with the meticulous care that marks all Music and Arts issues. Mark Kluge’s booklet notes are exemplary; they include a brief discussion of recent Bruckner scholarship that defends the Löwe/Guttmann edition of the Fourth as one genuinely authorized by Bruckner rather than riding roughshod over his true intentions, and also discuss Walter’s various retouchings of the timpani and brass parts in different performances of the Ninth. (Kluge does not discuss the 1950 performance, but the excision of the trombone parts from certain passages of the Scherzo that occurs in the 1957 and 1959 performances also occurs there, though curiously not in the intervening ones from 1953.) The booklet and tray card have a typographical error that gives the total time of the second disc as 50:30, which is the timing of the Bruckner Ninth alone; the correct total time is 68:20. For Walterians, this release is self-recommending; for Brucknerians and collectors of historic performances, it will be of interest primarily for the Bruckner Fourth, and secondarily for the “Haffner” and the Ninth. To each of these interested parties, this release is warmly recommended.

James A. Altena

Classical Music

On his new album Colombian-born pianist Pablo Rojas presents piano music from five Latin-American countries. These diverting pieces tell of the history of South America, Spanish and Portuguese reign and the incorporation of Indigenous and African culture. Adding to works by the popular Ginastera and Piazzolla, Rojas discloses a world of gems by lesser known composer like Luis Calvo, Ernesto Nazareth, Ernesto Lecuona, Ignacio Cervantes, Carlos Vieco, Horacio Salgan or Gerry Weil. They stand for a wonderful mixture of most diverse influences and styles and reflect folklore from the Andes and Argentinian tango as well as dances and waltzes from Cuba, Colombia and Brasil, while at the same time roaming the border to jazz. Pablo Andres Rojas De Los Rios, who was born in Pasto, Colombia completed his piano studies at the Universidad de Antioquia, where he graduated with distinction. Pablo came to Vienna in order to study piano pedagogy at the Universitat fur Musik und darstellende Kunst. Pablo has performed as a soloist with the Symphonic Orchestra of Colombia, the Philharmonic Orchestra of Bogota, the Symphonic Orchestra of Barranquilla, the Philharmonic Orchestra of Medellin, and the Symphonic Orchestra of Yucatan. As an orchestral musician Pablo has played with, among others, the Tonkunstler Orchester Niederosterreich. As well as classical music Pablo also devotes himself to folklore and the popular rhythms of his culture of origin for instance in the duo Barembuem-Rojas, which explores the essence of the Argentinea tango as folk music.

Mieczys?aw Weinberg – whose music was virtually unknown in the West until quite recently – composed, despite the incredible difficulty of the circumstances of his life, an enormous amount of music, including seventeen string quartets and no less than twenty-six symphonies, which puts him, in sheer prolificity among twentieth century symphonists close to Myaskovsky (27), but lagging somewhat behind Havergal Brian (32). Outstanding among Weinberg’s symphonies is the trilogy made up of the seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth symphonies, collectively entitled On the Threshold of War. This refers to what is known in Russia as The Great Patriotic War, or, in other words, World War Two.

So here we have no.17, ‘Memory’; it is a four-movement work with what might be thought a relatively conventional profile. But the way Weinberg handles the symphonic form and his material is, in all aspects, highly personal, and it is an unquestionably powerful statement. The movements are: an opening slow movement - Adagio sostenuto - of great intensity; then a fast, furious and lengthy Allegro molto; a much shorter Allegro molto, pesante; and another long movement, marked Andante, to complete the work.

There is, as far as I can ascertain, only one other recording of this symphony, that of a 2013 concert performance by the Vienna Symphony Orchestra under Vladimir Fedoseyev. Though that is a committed performance, the sound is rather ‘raw’, and orchestral ensemble is often rough round the edges. The Siberian State Symphony Orchestra, on the Naxos recording, plays well, even if the strings do lack the bloom of a really top-class outfit. The recording is extremely well-balanced, so that wonderful moments, such as the entry of the harpsichord in the second movement, make the maximum impact. In fact, I found this the finest movement of the four; Weinberg constructs the movement so consistently from the various melodic motifs, and the scoring, particularly its use of the two keyboard instruments – piano and harpsichord – is outstandingly atmospheric. The way it eventually resolves into a searing elegy for the high strings is compelling, as is the sense of disintegration at its close.

This is certainly an impressive work, which deserves a distinguished place among the great World War Two symphonies – Vaughan Williams 6, Prokofiev 6, Shostakovich 7 and 8, Copland 3 and Honegger’s Symphonie Liturgique, to name a few of the best known. Inevitably not the most cheerful piece, and some will find it grim. I would prefer the word ‘bracing’, for Weinberg maintains the concentration and the symphonic argument strongly throughout the work’s forty-five minute duration.

But it is demanding, which is why it was such a good idea to begin the CD with something as hugely entertaining as the little Suite for Orchestra of 1950. This is pure delight, and I’d be very surprised if this piece was not now taken up by other orchestras (this is the first recording). The opening Romance has a gorgeously lachrymose theme, first heard in the trumpet, while the Humoresque has deliciously light scoring. The spirit of Shostakovich hovers very close; Weinberg’s third movement recreates perfectly the mood of those haunted and very Russian waltzes found in both of the older composer’s Jazz Suites.

An impressive and enjoyable disc then. And one other thing; we don’t often credit the writers of booklet notes, so I wanted to mention the exemplary notes provided for this issue by Richard Whitehouse. Genuinely helpful and informative, unlike some writers who sometimes appear simply to want to blind us with their musicological ‘insights’. After all, how many of us want - or need – to know what key the music modulates to in bar 63 etcetera, etcetera?

– MusicWeb International (Gwyn Parry-Jones)

Includes work(s) by Alfred Schnittke. Ensemble: Tapiola Sinfonietta. Conductor: Ralf Gothóni. Soloists: Ralf Gothóni, Tero Latvala, Ulf Wallin.

Doménikos Theotokópoulos’s (El Greco) travels through 16th century Europe in search of work and patronage are mirrored in this musical journey from Crete, his birthplace, to Venice, Rome and, finally, the Spanish city of Toledo. The historically studious, oft-recorded and well-traveled group Capella de Ministrers, directed by Carles Magraner, favors the musical Spanish patrimony from medieval times up to the 19th century.

La Cité des Dames is a collection of female authors' works, active in liturgical, paraliturgical, secular, vocal and instrumental music. Some are very famous: Kassia, Hildegard of Bingen, Landsberg Herrada, Beatriz de Día. Others are less known: Héloïse, Margaret of Austria and Anne Boleyn. This album also pays special attention to Hispanic composers: Blanche of Castile and Gracia Baptista.

Classical Music

Although the symphony was the most prestigious instrumental genre of his time, Brahms avoided it for many years. In 1872, when he was already more than forty years old and was widely acknowledged for his chamber and choral music, he observed: ‘I will never write a symphony! You can’t imagine what it’s like to hear a giant treading behind you.’ The giant was of course Beethoven, at once an inspiration and a source of intimidation for composers of Brahms’s generation. Fortunately, however, he went back on his promise a few years later with his First Symphony, followed by three more composed between 1876 and 1885. The two works presented here are the Second Symphony, sometimes sombre, sometimes radiant, and the Fourth, a genuine masterpiece of the genre. This disc, recorded on period instruments under the masterly direction of Philippe Herreweghe, is released to coincide with a double anniversary: as a prelude to the Flemish conductor’s seventieth birthday, it also celebrates the twenty-fifth year of existence of one of his favourite ensembles: the Orchestre des Champs-Élysées.

ORCHESTRAL MASTERPIECES

This disc offers the world première recording of Viatore ('The Wanderer', 2001), which may be described as a representation in sound of 'becoming' or 'passing' - a spiritual journey in familiar Vasks territory. All the works were recorded in the presence of the composer by the Swedish Chamber Orchestra - an ensemble whose previous BIS recordings have all been highly acclaimed. The orchestra's performances on one of their latest offerings - H.K. Gruber's Manhattan Broadcasts BIS-CD-1341) - were termed "masterful" (Gramophone), "a triumph" (BBC Music Magazine), and "superb" (The Times). Under the direction of the orchestra's leader Katarina Andreasson, who also performs the solo part of the violin concerto, the playing on the present disc is no less committed.

Classical Music

Langgaard: Piano Works, Vol. 2

On March 16, 1968, the United States Army killed over 500 unarmed civilians in the hamlet of Mỹ Lai, Vietnam. The unimaginable brutality of the event impacted all those who witnessed it firsthand, including helicopter pilot Hugh Thompson, who, against orders, intervened to save Vietnamese lives. Thompson's story is the basis of the opera Mỹ Lai, composed by Jonathan Berger (music) and Harriet Scott Chessman (libretto) for Kronos Quartet, Vietnamese multi-instrumentalist Vân-Ánh Vanessa Võ, and vocalist Rinde Eckert. This definitive recording of Mỹ Lai captures the visceral, phantasmal depictions of Thompson's grief, horror, and guilt as he is haunted by persistent memories of that cataclysmic day, half a world and nearly four decades away. Tense and unforgiving, Mỹ Lai is "a gripping affair, beginning to end" (New York Times). Presented here alongside recollections by Vietnamese survivor Trần Văn Đức, it is a memorial to all the Mỹ Lai villagers killed on that grim day.

Morton Gould's music is the quintessential definition of the American sound. Along with composers like Aaron Copland, he was remarkably influential in producing homegrown American musical works. Composing in a wide variety of musical idioms, Gould was brought to international recognition by his easy-listening melodies and vivid orchestral works.
This Naxos release celebrates several works that brought Gould to critical acclaim, beginning with 'American Ballads' composed in 1976. Including such notable themes as the "Star Spangled Overture" and "Amber Waves," the six-movement work captures tender themes and melodies close to the soul of any patriot. The 'Stephen Foster Gallery' suite also represents those uniquely American themes in an exquisite arrangement of songs. Gould's most famous work, 'American Salute' (based on the melody "When Johnny Comes Marching Home"), shows Gould's unmatched ability to create a synthesis between concert and popular music. Militaristic percussion and brass are accented by the soft, weaving harmonies of the woodwinds and strings.
Under the direction of conductor Theodore Kuchar, the National Symphony Orchestra of Ukraine offers a sensible, yet light-hearted rendering of the music. Firmly grasping the essence of Gould's American spirit, the orchestra communicates the music's strong nationalism with great skill and plausibility.

Patrick Gallois' contributions to Naxos' Haydn series have been some of the best, and this latest release is no exception. Symphonies 9-12 are a nicely varied lot, and rare enough on disc to make this release very useful to collectors looking to plug a gap in their Haydn discographies. The first and last have three movements (No. 9 ending with a minuet); No. 10 has the traditional four movements, and so does No. 11, but it begins with an Adagio (so-called "church-sonata form"). No. 12 features a very impressive, dramatic, minor-key Adagio that lasts some eight minutes, and has more than enough musical substance to justify its length, and the repeats.

The performances are stylish, lively, and perfectly played by the Sinfonia Finlandia, and my only criticism (once again) concerns the excessively obtrusive continuo part. Haydn didn't ask for it, the music doesn't need it, and the problem with modern performances, even purportedly "authentic" ones, is that the harpsichord player is always tempted to do too much, to fill out the part like a genuine Baroque figured bass, whereas we pretty much know that by this time any keyboard participation was likely limited to occasional bits of harmonic filler or stiffening of rhythm for ensemble purposes. This is very much a matter of individual taste, and certainly the problem, if it be such, isn't serious enough to undermine enjoyment of these well-recorded performances.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

The early 1870s saw Saint-Saëns driven by a constant desire to surpass himself, which led to several powerful compositions, including the Cello Concerto No. 1. His creative decisions—the expressive treatment of the solo part, the thematic concentration, the concise orchestral developments, the juxtaposition of contrasts, the lack of a traditional orchestral introduction, and the merging of the usual three movements into one—place this concerto in a class of its own.

When German cellist Wilhelm Fitzenhagen—a colleague of Tchaikovsky’s at the Moscow Conservatory who took part in the premieres of three of the latter’s string quartets—received the Variations on a Rococo Theme in 1877, which he had commissioned from Tchaikovsky, he immediately took it on tour.

Quickly realizing how deeply moving audiences found the third variation, “Andante” (they frequently applauded it), Fitzenhagen decided to rework the score by moving this variation to the end and rewriting certain transitions. Tchaikovsky was unaware of this until the work was published in 1889.

Although outraged, the composer let the publication stand, and Tchaikovsky’s original version would not be heard again before 1941; indeed, most cellists did not start playing the original version until the late 1970s.

BRAHMS: SERENADE NO 2, ETC TI

An original Philips album of two light-orchestral masterpieces by Dvor�k, with the Serenade for Strings receiving a first international reissue on CD. While best known as a conductor of the central symphonic repertoire, and the operas of Berlioz and Tippett, Colin Davis always showed special affection for the music of Dvor�k. He made this album in March 1968, conducting the orchestra with whom he enjoyed the longest and most fruitful relationship of his career, the London Symphony Orchestra. After some troubled times in the early 1960s, when Davis suffered a breakdown and the orchestra passed him over in favour of Istvan Kertesz as music director, they hit a sweet spot together in this album and several others such as the early volumes of their Berlioz and Tippett series together. The Symphonic Variations remains a comparatively neglected work - astonishingly so, given it's tremendous charm. When Hans Richter first conducted the work in Vienna, he declared that he could never remember a new piece achieving such a popular success. Brahms thought equally highly of it, and perhaps valued the quality of wit which is rarely found in Dvor�k's music. Davis certainly did so, and conducted the Variations throughout his career, including late in life with the LSO, but this first recording enjoys a particularly unfettered freedom of expression. Affection also beams from every bar of the Serenade for Strings which Dvor�k composed in 1876, the year before the Variations. This was a happy time for the composer, who was so often beset by suffering and personal tragedy, and it breathes the same joyous air as his Fifth Symphony and Second String Quintet, full of Czech and Viennese dance rhythms, which are handled by the LSO's string section with rather more lightness of touch than on Davis's later Philips recording with the BRSO.

Since the release of the chart topping Alehouse Sessions in 2017, and a world wide tour, Bjarte and the boys and girls have been busy on this new album which moves the alehouse project on from dour Puritanism of Cromwell's Commonwealth, to the hedonistic Restoration of Charles II, and the Glorious Revolution that saw William III and Mary II replace the unpopular James II. The alehouse musical culture developed into playhouses, and music halls, selling tickets and subscriptions. Operas, masques, dance, jesting (the first stand-up comedians maybe?), all this prepared the way for the first public concert hall to be established. Nights in these places though would still be bawdy - stage fights, cross dressing, elements of pantomime, songs sung to popular tunes of the day, satire - always a good draw, and a good number of rustic clowns, bawdy wenches and fools thrown in for good measure! Think of these back rooms as a very English mix of Shakespeare, commedia dell arte, juggling with music by Purcell, folk tunes, and sea shanties. After the misery of the Commonwealth and Cromwell's dictatorship, the public were in the mood to party! Playhouse is your invitation to the party - enjoy!

With this new release the Naxos catalog now includes all extant versions of Bruckner's much massaged Symphony No. 3. Georg Tintner's imposing account of the 1873 original made a powerful and seemingly irrefutable case for Bruckner's first thoughts. But Johannes Wildner is equally persuasive in his compelling rendition of the second version from 1877. Here Bruckner tamed the sometimes discursive quality of his original inspiration, giving it a tighter and more or less conventional structure--at least as defined by Brucknerian standards. Though this came at a sacrifice of some of the music's more radical passages, the symphony remains a powerful and affecting work.


Wildner's conviction is immediately apparent in the first movement: Listen as he builds the opening's two great climaxes with arresting force, then infuses the following lyrical second subject with an ingratiating warmth. Fine as the first movement is, it's actually the Adagio and Finale that benefit most from Wildner's probing conducting, as both movements sound with a rare formal coherence married to dramatic impact. As a bonus, the first disc of this double set also includes the composer's intermediate version (1876) of the Adagio.


Bruckner's 1889 revision of the symphony is controversial for its sometimes ungainly melding of his early and late styles, as well as for the cuts--reportedly influenced by Franz Schalk--that gouge out large portions of the finale. However, Wildner miraculously smooths out the symphony's rough edges by adopting swift tempos (the first movement now has lost nearly four minutes), streamlined phrasing, and light textures; he also imparts an early-romantic, almost Mendelssohnian feel that makes this last version sound paradoxically like the earliest, contemporaneous with the Second Symphony.


The Westphalia New Philharmonic members perform with the same enthusiasm and expertise they displayed in their recording of the Ninth Symphony. And though the strings still don't match the richness of their world-class competition, the brass project more boldly and surely than before, and the orchestra as a whole cultivates an authentic yet distinctive Bruckner sound. Naxos' recording offers impressive clarity and dynamic range, though the dry hall acoustic doesn't provide much warmth. No matter--the heat generated by Wildner and his players more than compensates. [2/21/2004]
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

The Decca legacy of WILHELM KEMPFF, one of the last century's greatest keyboard poets. Wilhelm Kempff is known, with good reason, as a Beethoven interpreter of sublime simplicity, with several cycles of the concertos and sonatas to his credit, all of them recorded for DG. However, he began recording as early as 1918 and made records for Polydor before the war, as well as for Decca during the 1950s. While his DG recordings have rarely been out of the catalogue, his legacy on other labels has never been so comprehensively documented as it is on this newly remastered set from Eloquence. Offered as a 'historical' appendix are Kempff's Polydor recordings of Beethoven sonatas with like-minded and recreative partners including the violinist Georg Kulenkampff (the 'Kreutzer') and the cellists Pablo Casals (Cello Sonata Op. 5 No. 1) and Paul Gr�mmer (Cello Sonata Op. 69), better known as a long-standing member of the Busch Quartet. These pre-war and mid-war recordings, newly remastered, add significantly to our understanding of Kempff as an artist of extraordinarily wide sympathies and imagination. The same could be said of his Decca legacy, which in it's complete form should dispel the tenacious myth that he was first and foremost a Beethoven pianist. In 1950 he began recording the solo music of Brahms in the 78 era, with repertoire which he then recorded again in 1953 for LP. In the 1953 sessions he also recorded the composer's late piano music, which is touched with an elusive grace that very few pianists find as surely as Kempff. Of interest to many will be previously unpublished material (Rameau, Brahms) as well as Kempff's first - and extremely rare - recordings for Decca of music by J.S. Bach, receiving their first release on CD. In the booklet essay for the box, Alfred Brendel explains how he particularly esteems Kempff's Decca recordings, for the piano sound captured at the company's studios in West Hampstead in London, and also how he prizes the pianist's recordings of Liszt above all: 'truly legendary'. He recalls seeing Kempff play Schubert's Sonatas D.845, which Decca also captured, as an inspiration for his own subsequent dedication to the composer's piano sonatas. A pair of Mozart concertos, KV 219 and KV 450, finds Kempff's phrasing at it's most limpid and apparently effortless. His Decca discography concluded in fine style in 1958 with sessions which yielded three LP albums of Chopin. Several of these recordings have previously appeared in previous sets dedicated to Kempff but this is the first complete survey of his Decca legacy. Combined with the rare pre-war recordings, new remasterings and detailed editorial support (including a discographical essay by Michael Gray and one by the late Michael Steinberg), this set of Wilhelm Kempff will attract the attention of all pianophiles. 'When he is at his best, he plays more beautifully than any of us.' (Alfred Brendel)

Classical Music