Fibich’s colorful symphonic poems have not been neglected on disc, but most of the recordings made to date come from Supraphon and seem to pop in and out of print at random, making them difficult to find. So it’s good to have this ongoing series, especially as it’s very well played and recorded, and Marek Štilec offers compelling interpretations of all five pieces. The music is fun. Fibich was not the melodist that Dvorák was (consider the two Othellos), but he knew how to score for large orchestra, and although the idiom is conservative, it never sounds inhibited. He whips up a fine storm at the start of The Tempest, for example, and Štilec digs in with gusto.

The largest work here, one that will be unfamiliar even to experienced listeners, is Záboj, Slavoj and Ludek. The story comes from a medieval Czech source of some kind, and I frankly have no idea what it’s about. Neither does the booklet note writer, evidently, other than to say that Smetana was inspired by the same source to compose Ma Vlást. Never mind. The music obviously has something to do with militant nationalism, and it’s typically well sustained and confidently structured. You’ll enjoy getting to know it, as you will all five of these works.

If you’re curious, try comparing this setting of Toman and the Wood Nymph to Novák’s very different, more modern setting–or even Sibelius’ tone poem of the same title. Evidently the wood nymph really got around. This is turning out to be an excellent series, and a convenient way to fill out your collection of Czech romantic orchestral music.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

No one plays Stravinsky's neo-classical works better than Robert Craft. In the Symphony in C he captures the flow of the piece perfectly, understanding that the music's wistful innocence and rhythmic freshness depends far more on precision of execution than on interpretive point-making. The Symphony in Three Movements packs a nice, hefty punch in its outer movements, and the important harp part is very well balanced in the central Andante.

Neither Dumbarton Oaks nor the Octet strikes me as top-notch Stravinsky, though judging from his notes Craft would disagree. In any case, these are wholly winning performances, totally free of artifice. Dumbarton Oaks in particular does not sound like bad Bach, but comes across as energetic and vital, the rhythmic drive of its outer movements never turning mechanical. The fine sonics remain remarkably consistent despite the various recording locations and dates. Highly recommended.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

TCHAIKOVSKY: 1812 Overture / Romeo and Juliet / Capriccio It

SYMPHONY NO. 9

Baron von Dittersdorf's attractive personality and inventiveness as a composer shines through in every movement of the three charming symphonies featured on this world premi're recording.

Vasily Petrenko (b. 1976) has been leading the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra since September 2006 and has recently extended his contract until at least 2015. His work on Merseyside has been drawing many very enthusiastic notices, including several on MusicWeb International. However, until now, with the exception of his recording of Sir John Tavener’s recent Requiem (see review) I’ve not heard any of his performances. If this thrilling disc is anything to go by then I’ve been missing something.

I’ve long thought that Rachmaninov’s Symphonic Dances ranks among his finest works but this new recording really made me sit up and take fresh notice. For that Petrenko and his orchestra must take a huge amount of credit. However, the quality of the recording itself also has much to do with it. I can only describe the sound on this CD as stunning. By chance, immediately before I put this new Avie disc in my player I’d been listening to Vladimir Ashkenazy’s 1983 Decca recording of Symphonic Dances and The Isle of the Dead. Those are extremely fine performances, splendidly recorded by Decca in the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam. On that disc the sound is warm, yet very clear and there’s a good deal of space round the orchestra – I strongly suspect the orchestra was set out on the auditorium floor in the empty Concertgebouw. This Avie recording offers a very different experience for the sound is closer – though not oppressively so – and very present.

Producer John Fraser and Engineer David A. Pigott have produced here one of the best recordings of a symphony orchestra that I’ve heard in a very long time. The orchestra is, as I said, very present yet very natural also. The recording offers a wide side-to-side perspective and also very good front-to-back definition. There’s an abundance of detail to hear – the percussion thrillingly reported and the brass impressive without ever sounding domineering – yet without any sense of artificial spotlighting of sections or individual instruments. With a satisfyingly rich bass foundation and an impressive dynamic range this recording presents the orchestra in a most exciting and very musical way. The sound has terrific definition, not least in the quiet passages, and packs a real punch at climaxes. Best of all, the recording lets you hear just how impressive the performances are. For the orchestra there are few hiding places in Symphonic Dances, especially when the sound is as clear and detailed as this, but the RLPO are consistently sure-footed.

The quality of the recording and Petrenko’s care over balance got my attention from the first bars of Symphonic Dances. The very opening is light, crisp and delicate after which the bold string chords have a most impressive weight. Petrenko drives the music forward with vigour but never overplays his hand. The saxophone solo (from 3:26) is lovingly phrased, imparting just the right feeling of wistful nostalgia. In the succeeding passage (to 5:46) there’s some excellent woodwind playing – and not for the last time on this disc, either. When the strings take up the melody it sings gloriously – and between them Petrenko and the engineers balance the accompaniment of harp and piano perfectly. The eventual return to the movement’s opening material is at first suspenseful and then very exciting. Rachmaninov’s self-quotation from his First Symphony is warmly delivered but without any over-indulgence.

If I have a small criticism it concerns the brevity of the gaps between the movements. There’s a mere two seconds between the first and second dances – the Ashkenazy disc has some six seconds – and only three seconds between the second and third movements. Just a little more time would have been welcome. The second movement is a spectral, awkward waltz: in the memorable phrase of annotator Anthony Bateman “Evening has brought its ghosts”. Petrenko shapes the music with great imagination, conjuring up for this listener at least an image of a dimly lit and faded ballroom that has rather gone to seed. The RLPO strings play splendidly, with plenty of body to their tone – and their woodwind colleagues offer equally fine playing. Petrenko is alive to all the nuances and subtle inflections of Rachmaninov’s music. His is a colourful and well-imagined reading and he draws really responsive playing from his orchestra. Among many details that I relished is the nutty tone of the violas between 7:05 and 7:23 followed by the sound of really hushed violins and a doleful bassoon.

Once Petrenko reaches the main material of the third dance his reading has abundant energy but, rightly, there’s more than a sense of foreboding as well. As a sample of the impressive way in which soft passages are handled, sample the rather sinister passage introduced by the bass clarinet (5:04). Shortly afterwards (6:60 – 9:55) the long, brooding string paragraph, in which the RLPO players excel, is surely Rachmaninov revisiting his Second Symphony but with a melancholy air, knowing that those days are gone for ever. In the last five or six minutes Petrenko urges his players on to an exciting yet darkly-tinged conclusion. In these pages the tambourine, tam-tam and xylophone contributions are magnificently caught by the microphones and the dramatic last few bars bring a superb performance of the work to a tumultuous conclusion.

Recently, I was greatly taken with a live performance of The Isle of the Dead conducted by Evgeny Svetlanov (see review). I found that reading enthralling but its very expansiveness probably courts controversy and will not be to all tastes. Petrenko’s reading is more mainstream, if I may put it that way, in terms of pacing. His account, at 20:58. lasts for almost the same time as Ashkenazy’s (20:52) and is similar in length to several other recordings on my shelves. Mind you, it is salutary to note that the composer’s own 1929 recording with the Philadelphia Orchestra lasts a “mere” 18:05 and even after eighty years that recording still sounds well – and packs a real interpretative punch!

Petrenko isn’t in the Svetlanov league when it comes to expansiveness but his interpretation is still full of brooding power – and his performance affords better playing than we hear on the Svetlanov disc and, as you’d expect, comes in much better sound. This Liverpool account establishes a very potent atmosphere right from the outset. There’s dark grandeur in the playing – and in Petrenko’s conception of the work. As in Symphonic Dances the excellence of the sound supports Petrenko’s balancing of the orchestra magnificently. Between 7:22 and 7:44, for example, the balance between the cello tune and the woodwind decoration round it is outstandingly successful. Later on (8:04 – 9:40) the ear is impressed mightily by sonorous brass, pounding timpani and weighty strings.

Petrenko builds the piece to an impressive and potent central climax, thrillingly reported by the recording, but the way he winds the tension down in the following bars is just as noteworthy. Later on, he invests the urgent, surging string passage (11:23 - 12:59) with real ardour and the main climax of the piece (around 15:30) is shattering in its intensity. As Charon, the boatman, rows back across the Styx from the Isle, his work done for now, the opening music returns and Petrenko controls the sombre conclusion very effectively.

In a way I wish the disc had ended there; the piece that’s placed last would have been a more satisfying opener, I believe. The Rock is a youthful work but a significant achievement nonetheless by the twenty-year-old composer. Apparently Tchaikovsky admired the piece and it’s not hard to see why for the scoring is attractive and the invention is strong. For much of its course the nature of the music is much lighter than that of the other two works on the disc. Petrenko conducts with grace and affection but also does the powerful stretches towards the end very well. In the first few minutes the principal flute, Cormac Henry, has a lot of demanding solo work and he shines under the spotlight that Rachmaninov trains on him. Another example of finesse that caught my ear was the exquisite passage of string tremolandi between 7:04 and 7:39 – it’s details such as this that puts the stamp of distinction on this release. As a piece The Rock may not be the equal of the other works on this disc but it has many attractions and it receives a very fine performance here.

As I hope I’ve conveyed, this is an exceptional disc in every way. It’s one that I’ve enjoyed enormously but I also admire it greatly as an achievement both on the part of the musicians and of the engineers. If you’ve wondered why so much fuss is being made about the work that Vasily Petrenko is doing with the RLPO then this superb CD should provide the answer. Already, in early February, this disc is on my shortlist of Recordings of the Year.

One final thought. Could Avie be persuaded to record this team in Rachmaninov’s Second Symphony? If Petrenko and the RLPO could recapture in a recording of that great, sweeping symphony the form shown on this disc then the result would be a serious challenge to the longstanding hegemony of André Previn’s 1973 recording with the LSO (EMI). Meanwhile, don’t wait to see if that disc appears. Buy this one – now! I doubt you’ll regret it and I hope it will excite you as much as it has excited me.

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

Quite an achievement.

If you have heard the Durham Concerto or the zanily named Boom of the Tingling Strings you will know that since departing Deep Purple in 2002 Jon Lord has been gripped by classical composing. The earliest stirrings of this hunger go back to the 1969 and his Concerto for Group and Orchestra. It was premiered, filmed and recorded live at the Royal Albert Hall with Deep Purple and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Sir Malcolm Arnold. The next year the BBC commissioned The Gemini Suite. In 1974 Sarabande followed and in 1997 came Lord’s solo CD Pictured Within.
 
To Notice Such Things is clearly a very personal and affecting portrait of Lord’s friendship with John Mortimer, CBE, QC (1923–2009). It traces its origins to the affectionate stage show, Mortimer’s Miscellany. The title of the score is from the Thomas Hardy poem Afterwards which ended the show. The first movement, As I Walked Out One Evening is from the W.H. Auden poem and relates to the music that opened the revue. At Court picks up on Mortimer’s days as the darling of the combative anti-establishment in the 1960s and 1970s. Turville Heath is where Mortimer lived and we are told that the movement gives an impression of Mortimer in his beloved garden. In extreme old age his legs began to fail him. Stick Dance is said to portray our hero’s appreciation of a female companion jiving while Mortimer leans on his walking stick. Mortimer chose the dormouse to figure in his coat of arms. The Winter of a Dormouse is an attempt to describe Sir John's final months. It’s an affectionate and poignant farewell. The friendship throughout is echoed in the flute which voices Sir John. Lord is reflected in the solo piano role. These figures are played by the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra’s principal flautist Cormac Henry and by the composer’s piano.

Counter-intuitively As I Walked Out One Evening has all the warm vernal freshness of the morning of the world. This is coupled with a peculiarly English contentment – an ecstasy in being there. The language is caught between the pastoral Vaughan Williams of the 1910s and 1920s and the Copland counterpart. At Court is part lightly serene and partly rushing cut-and-thrust carried by the flute with brusquely joyous strings. Turville Heath hints at a Gallic-Delian influence although the presence of the self-effacingly supportive piano pulls the rug out from under the comparison. This movement could easily join the host of short piano and orchestra miniatures by Bax, Milford and Armstrong Gibbs. Towards its close the gentle muse dances with an innocent smile. In Stick Dance there is a Shostakovich-like caustic serration to the string writing though this does relent to make way for curvaceous gliding and dancing of the flute. The Winter of a Dormouse touches on desolation but from its chilly shores the flute sings, invoking and reviving the delights of years gone by and of the changes wrought by the passage of the years. Interesting how the flute line remains succulent in tone but it is now more pensive. The flute solo curves down a gentle gradient into silence. Afterwards is the final movement for piano and orchestra though the flute also plays its part. The writing has a distinctly Finzian poignant reflective quality - the drowsy heat-haze of a summer’s eclogue into which this sweetly tempered work fades.

The other four tracks are occupied by short pieces. Evening Song is for piano, alto flute, french horn and orchestra. Starting out as one of the pieces in Lord’s Pictured Within, it lays convincing claim to the sentimental congeries entwining that ideal English sunset. This is a place in space and time where contemplation is by itself fully satisfying. The solo violin part reminded me of Finzi’s Severn Rhapsody. For Example is a piece for string orchestra and flute. Its origins lie in a small piano piece dedicated to Lord’s friends the Trondheim Soloists and their Artistic Director and Principal Cellist, Øyvind Gimse. It’s a pensive essay with just that tincture of Grieg – a composer who was one of Lord’s earliest favourites. Air on the Blue String is for flute and strings –a contented essay with a few gently stern moments to provide backbone. This too had its genesis in a piano solo. The disc ends with Jeremy Irons’ undemonstrative reading of Hardy’s melancholic-fatalistic poem, Afterwards. The poem registers with even more depth. It is clothed with Jon Lord’s piano line which provides a symbiotic modest commentary.

This is a well presented, recorded and annotated album and one that will please those who respond to Finzian pastoral melancholy. Quite an achievement.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

Martin Luther had many students and disciples. One of them was named Praetorius, and that student had a son named Michael. Michael became – along with J.S. Bach – one of the two greatest composers in the history of Protestant church music. Michael Praetorius left us an enormous quantity of sacred music, for children’s choir, adult choir, strings, brass, lutes, and soloists. He was also acclaimed as an organist and theorist. His monumental music treatise, Syntagma musicum (1619), is considered the most important work of music theory in the early Baroque, and provides musicians with a wealth of practical information.

Living at the same time as Monteverdi, the great revolutionary composer of Italy, Praetorius was aware of the new and virtuosic elements of Monteverdi’s music; however, he firmly upheld Luther’s ideal that the common people should be able to participate in the music-making in some way. Therefore, while Monteverdi’s music requires an entirely professional ensemble of virtuoso singers, such as existed at St. Mark’s in Venice, Praetorius channeled his imaginative flair toward writing music that brought together professional singers,
humble village choirs, children’s voices, and even congregational singing.

Thus, Praetorius’ music combines the drama and virtuosity of something like the Monteverdi Vespers, with the simple and accessible traditions of Lutheran hymn-tunes that many Protestants know by heart.

Rhapsodische Kammermusik aus der Schweiz

This selection of some of Wagner's finest orchestral excerpts opens with the 'storm-swept ballad' of Der fliegende Holle�nder, the opera which launched his epoch-defining later masterpieces. The entire span of Der Ring des Nibelungen is represented in this program, from the luminous rainbow bridge which leads the gods to Valhalla in Das Rheingold, the urgent drama of Die Walkure, and the atmospheric repose of the Forest Murmurs in Siegfried, to the tragic depths of Siegfried's Funeral March. This recording has been praised for it's 'radiant sensuousness'. (Gramophone) Volumes 2 and 3 in this series are available on 8.572768 and 8.572769.

Apollo’s Fire conjures early 19th-century rural Americana with an evocative journey through traditional folk songs, fiddle tunes, barn dances, and the indispensable Old Time revivalist meetings. This is music as old as the hills themselves, a melting pot of Irish, English, and Scottish tunes that permeated Appalachian culture and rural America, based on field recordings of old-time and Appalachian singers.

“Dazzling fiddle playing and delicious swing … all done with great spirit and brio.” — Fanfare

This is an incredibly beautiful CD, one that will surely be played repeatedly around here. The repertoire is mostly for string orchestra and every piece is a romantic gem. Lars-Erik Larsson's music occupies half the CD, and ranges from the tuneful Little Serenade to the eloquent, soul searching Adagio. Gunnar de Frumerie wrote romantic music within a neo-classic framework, and his Pastoral Suite, exquisitely played here, is a prime example. Kurt Atterberg's Suite, which began life as music for a play called Sister Beatrice, is perhaps on a more spiritual level than the pastoral works of the other composers. Atterberg's use of modality at times makes it reminiscent of Vaughan Williams' Tallis Fantastia, and it is just about as lovely and nearly as significant. The lovely little Blomdahl romance might come as a surprise to listeners who only know this composer from his stringent, modern-to-the-max compositions. The playing throughout is incredibly beautiful. This orchestra plays with a rich, ripe tone that is completely disarming, and conductor Petter Sundkvist gets the utmost in nuance from every player. The Naxos sound is full and warm with lots of well-defined bass. This CD is a real find.--Rad Bennett, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

Classical Music

Cleveland-based baroque orchestra Apollo’s Fire has made an indelible impression since launching on Avie last year, making their Billboard Classical Chart debut in the Top 10. Vivaldi & Friends presents concertos by the Red Priest with a twist: two authentic concertos—one for four violins, the other for two cellos—interspersed with J. S. Bach’s transcription of Vivaldi’s A minor concerto for four harpsichords and Jeannette Sorrell’s own transcription of “Summer” from the ever-popular Four Seasons. In this unique version, she performs the original violin parts on the harpsichord. The album ends with an enigmatic Tango Concerto by contemporary composer René Duchiffre, written in the idiom of Bach and Vivaldi for the unusual combination of two violas da gamba. Vivaldi & Friends is released to coincide with the group’s extensive tour with star countertenor Philippe Jaroussky.

This album features a piece from Holland that is highly virtuosic and melodious—a clarinet concerto from the late romantic era of 1885. Rising star Manz has given rebirth to this genuine masterpiece that originally enjoyed great renown and was played from Russia to America. For unknown reasons it at some point or other simply vanished from the not really all that extensive repertoire for clarinet virtuosos.

MARTINU: Symphonies Nos. 3 and 5

about the release Elizabeth Hainen, Solo Harpist of the Philadelphia Orchestra, is known internationally as one of classical music's great harp ambassadors. She has thrilled audiences throughout the world with programmes showcasing the diversity and virtuosity of her instrument. Her first recording for Avie features three concerti spanning as many centuries. Austrian composer Johann Georg Albrechtsberger was a highly regarded teacher who counted Hummel and Beethoven among his pupils, and whose Harp Concerto of 1773 straddled the Baroque and Classical eras. English harpist and composer Elias Parish Alvars toured Europe widely and settled in Vienna. His G minor Concerto, written in 1842, was a virtuosic vehicle befitting his own temperament - Berlioz called him the Liszt of the harp. Saint-Saëns wrote dozens of concertante works but only one for harp, the 1918 Morceau de concert. Elizabeth will be a featured artist at the 2011 World Harp Congress in July, performing the Parish Alvars Concerto with members of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra. critical acclaim "silky transparency" - The Washington Post "ability to blend and color the musical line [and] to find transparency in an almost timeless atmosphere." - Philadelphia Inquirer "a complete harpist who knows and uses her instrument's strength and brilliance and strikes its fire" - Miami Herald

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Simon Trpceski's recording of Rachmaninov's Piano Concertos Nos. 2 and 3 was one of the most acclaimed and best-selling classical releases of 2010. His frequent collaborations with Vasily Petrenko and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra are justly celebrated. Together they complete the not final cover art Rachmaninov canon with this highly-anticipated follow up of Concertos Nos. 1 and 4, and the Paganini Rhapsody. Rachmaninov Concertos 2 and 3 made the Top 10 of Billboard's Classical Chart and won a Diapason d'or de l'année. Trpceski will support the sequel with extensive touring and CD signings at which he regularly attracts hundreds of fans. What the critics are saying: "If you want to fall in love afresh with Rachmaninov's most popular piano concertos, go and get this disc right now" - Classic FM Magazine Editor's Choice "The great thing about these performances ... is not merely that he can deliver these formidable virtuoso showpieces with vigor and technical polish ... It's that he makes you hear beyond the glitter to the dimly flickering musical inspiration beneath ... Trpceski turns these potentially garish creations into something serious and emotionally urgent." - San Francisco Chronicle "an impressive achievement ... committed performances and excellent sound." - BBC Music Magazine "the chemistry between conductor, orchestra and soloist is magical." - Minnesota Public Radio "Avie can certainly congratulate itself on having backed a winner ... Trpceski was born to perform this music, and Petrenko to conduct it." - The Daily Telegraph (UK), Classical CD of the Week Daily Telegraph Classical CD of the Week: 'utterly compelling.' ClassicalSource.com: 'particularly fine ... scintillating ... a notable release' Yorkshire Post: 'dazzingly brilliant ... stunning'

In 1737 at age 71, after more than four decades serving in numerous positions as a Court violinist, orchestra director, and part-time composer, Jean-Féry Rebel composed his profoundly unique ballet-suite Les élémens (the elements). In his description of the opening movement (included in the notes to Musica Antiqua Köln’s 1995 DG Archiv recording of the work) director/violinist Reinhard Goebel offers a telling assessment as to just how unique, if not important Rebel’s achievement was: “He [Rebel] discarded all formal fetters: neither concerto nor overture, neither sonata nor sinfonia, his ‘Le cahos’ [chaos] is the first free orchestral composition in the history of music, more tone-poem than programme music.”

Indeed, it’s doubtful that anyone new to or even familiar with this remarkable work won’t be shocked (and shocked again) by Rebel’s intention, as he states in his preface to Les élémens, to “dare to undertake to link the idea of the confusion of the elements with that of confusion in harmony”…to depict “Chaos itself, this confusion which reigned between the Elements [earth, air, fire, and water] before the instant when, subject to invariable laws, they took their prescribed place in the order of nature.” Imagine, as Catherine Cessac puts it in her insightful notes to Les Musiciens du Louvre’s 1993 Erato recording, “…a daring ‘cluster’ involving the simultaneous attack of every note in the D minor harmonic scale…”. Of course, by now you realize my point: Rebel’s Les élémens must truly be heard to be believed.

This recent 2014 CPO release featuring L’Orfeo Barockorchester directed by Michi Gaigg was originally issued on Capriccio’s Phoenix Edition in 2008. It’s an excellent performance (that brooding diminuendo and lengthy pause between the initial sustained “cluster” and the remainder of the first movement rivals Musica Antiqua Köln’s intensity) and sometimes quirky, as when the ensemble plays up the wide array of rhythmic and dynamic contrasts for dramatic effect. The tempos by and large are quicker than most, with the exception of the seventh-movement Tambourins where, like The Academy of Ancient Music (L’Oiseau-Lyre), the ensemble favors a more measured pace before gradually gaining momentum near the end. All in all, this is a beautiful and at times spectacular offering.

Rameau’s Castor et Pollux suite also receives an exemplary performance, in some respects bettering my reference recording by Frans Brüggen and the Orchestra of the 18th Century (Philips). Gaigg has better instincts in shaping the suite as a whole, as well as an ability to better draw out instrumental texture and detail (compare their renderings of “Troisième air pour les athlétes” and the “Premier passepied pour les ombres heureuses”, for instance). This makes a nice, fitting choice to conclude the program.

The sound is remarkably good with excellent transparency in the woodwinds, strings, and percussion. Given Les élémens’ relative obscurity, there have been a few wonderful recordings (including a chamber version by the Palladian Ensemble that David Hurwitz favorably reviewed here). The one not to be missed, however, remains the previously mentioned Academy of Ancient Music performance directed by the late period-instrument visionary Christopher Hogwood. It was recorded in 1980, and every performance since that one is still very much indebted to Hogwood’s ground-breaking undertaking. Kudos to CPO for reissuing this worthy successor. Highly recommended.

-- John Greene, ClassicsToday.com

Can one ever tire of the dancing inspiration that animates these four portmanteau collections which have delighted both serious and casual listeners ever since Bach compiled them for use in social occasions as the 30-something Kapellmeister at the briefly enlightened court of Prince Leopold of Cöthen, exulting in the multifarious influences which he had absorbed and could place at the service of a compositional mind of unequalled intellectual brilliance yet always conscious of his music’s need to entertain, to give delight as well as accompany the sober thoughts of his congregations?

Not, at any rate, in these performances from a virtuoso German ensemble hailing from Bach’s own part of the world and masterminded by a superb trumpeter-turned-conductor who well understands the exuberant, public character of these suites, their occasional purposes, for all that in such moments as the famous Air from the G major Suite, No.3, they appear to take on a more confiding aspect, drawing the listener in before dispelling the tension with another jolly minuet or charming sarabande.

This generously filled CD presents the complete Orchestral Suites (Overtures) by J.S. Bach. Bach’s Suites count among his most popular and most frequently performed works, they are quintessential Bach: majestic, noble, tender and full of energy. They contain some of Bach’s evergreens: the Air from the 3rd Suite and the Badinerie from the 2nd Suite.

Played by the Virtuosi Saxoniae conducted by trumpeter-conductor Ludwig Güttler, modern instruments in Historically Informed Performance Practice, the best of both worlds. - Brilliant Classics