Orchestral and Symphonic
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Mozart: Concerto & Sonata For 2 Pianos / De Larrocha, Previn
Schoenberg: Pierrot Lunaire, String Trio / Stiedry-Wagner
SCHOENBERG Pierrot Lunaire 1. String Trio 2 • 1 Arnold Schoenberg, cond; 1 Erika Stiedry-Wagner (voc); 1 Rudolph Kolisch (vn, va); 1 Stefan Auber (vc); 1 Kalman Bloch (cl); 1 Leonard Posella (fl, pic); 1 Eduard Steuermann (pn); 2 Robert Mann (vn); 2 Raphael Hillyer (va); 2 Claus Adam (vc) • SONY 45695, mono/stereo (52:53)
As in the case of several of my other CHoF recommendations, this one is for half-a-record, in this case for the 1940 recording of Pierrot Lunaire directed by the composer. It’s not that the 1967 performance of the String Trio is a poor one—it’s not—but the 1985 recording of the String Trio, also by members of the Juilliard String Quartet (for such they are) only with Samuel Rhodes on viola and Joel Krosnick on cello (Sony 47690) supercedes this one. It is the recording of Pierrot Lunaire that is wholly unique.
Directed by the composer, it was the first of Schoenberg’s mature works to be recorded (Leopold Stokowski had recorded the earlier Gurrelieder in 1932 for RCA Victor). It includes pianist Eduard Steuermann, who had been playing this work since its premiere in 1913, and soprano Erika Stiedry-Wagner, who had been speaking/singing the vocal part in performances under Schoenberg’s direction since 1921. (In Robert Craft’s book Stravinsky: Discoveries and Memories, reviewed elsewhere in this issue, he writes of a performance in Italy of Pierrot Lunaire under Schoenberg’s direction, attended by none other than Giacomo Puccini. Stiedry-Wagner was probably the speaker in that performance as well.)
Curiously for an experienced singer who had performed this work many times with Schoenberg, Stiedry-Wagner sings several wrong pitches in “Eine blasse Wäscherin”; but as Dr. Avior Byron, a musicologist and composer who is working on the book Schoenberg’s Writings on Aesthetics and Interpretation in Performance has said, these deviations from pitch were not only accepted by the composer but quite possibly encouraged as a later reconsideration of how this specific song was to be interpreted. You can read the details in Chapter Seven of his book, “ Sprechstimme Reconsidered,” at bymusic.org/images/stories/byronphd/chapter_7.pdf. To begin with, there were no less than five takes made of this song (in addition to five each of “Valse de Chopin” and “Madonna,” and four each of “Gebet an Pierrot,” “Raub,” “Rote Messe,” and “Galgenlied”), and Stiedry-Wagner deviates from the written pitch in all of them. With the composer in charge, this error could have been remedied with a 15-minute piano rehearsal; but the fact that he allowed the recordings to be made, and the take with the wrong pitches issued, indicates a much deeper level of tolerance on Schoenberg’s part. As Byron illustrates via written comments from Schoenberg, the composer wanted a stricter adherence to pitch in Pierrot Lunaire than in the spoken recitation of Gurrelieder, but in certain songs—“Eine blasse Wäscherin” was apparently one of them—the mode of expression, the curve of the voice delivering the words, the vocal melismas as it were, became more important to him than absolute fidelity of pitch. Therefore, one can indeed accept this deviation as composer-approved and not an errant mistake that the composer did not catch prior to issue.
The bottom line is that Stiedry-Wagner’s performance is utterly fascinating and enthralling in its own way. She rivets your attention much better, for instance, than does Yvonne Minton in the note-perfect recording made under Pierre Boulez’s direction. From start to finish, this Pierrot Lunaire creates an atmosphere that is spellbinding. These performers, most of whom had been doing this work for a long time under the composer’s direction, give about as authentic a performance as can be imagined; and, as Byron makes clear, even the pitch deviations are instructive to modern performers as to how the songs should be done. In tonal Western music, interpretive differences are generally given by means of variants in the phrasing and the stress given to certain words, as in opera and Lieder, but to Schoenberg, the rhythms of Pierrot Lunaire were inviolable; and though he demanded a higher degree of pitch accuracy in this work, he apparently allowed a certain degree of latitude considering the range of one’s voice and the way the music was spoken-sung. Stiedry-Wagner was an accomplished operetta soprano and particularly an actress, thus I suspect that she and Schoenberg discussed the pitch deviations in “Eine blasse Wäscherin” to some extent, especially since all of the five existing takes deviate in one way or another from score pitch and, in fact, each one is different.
So much for “historically informed” performances, eh?
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
Wagner: Two Symphonies, Marches, Rienzi Overture / Jarvi, Royal Scottish National Orchestra
WAGNER Symphonies: in C, WWV 29; in E, WWV 35. Huldigungsmarsch. Rienzi: Overture. Kaisermarsch • Neeme Järvi, cond; Royal Scottish Natl O • CHANDOS 5097 (SACD: 79:14)
Here’s a milestone of sorts for me. In my nearly 10 years with Fanfare , this is my first time reviewing anything by Wagner. Mainly, the reason, I suppose, is that I don’t do opera, and what else is there, really, by Wagner that isn’t opera? Well, quite a lot, actually. Prior to his earliest completed stage works dating from between 1833 and 1838— Die Feen, Das Liebesverbot , and Die hohe Braut —Wagner wrote a goodly number of works, including several piano sonatas, a string quartet, concert overtures and overtures to plays, study fugues, songs, a considerable volume of miscellaneous piano pieces, and the two symphonies on this disc. And even after he threw himself into music drama with a passion, he continued to compose in other genres throughout his life.
Thus, the Huldigungsmarsch of 1864 was written right smack in the middle of Wagner’s work on Die Meistersinger , and the Kaisermarsch of 1871 comes dead-center during work on Parsifal . Still, the composer’s non-operatic music on record—I count the large numbers of collections of just the orchestral overtures, excerpts, and fragments from the operas as operatic music—seems to be an endangered species.
Wagner’s two symphonies have received one review each in these pages. The more recent appeared in Fanfare 31:2. That review by James Miller dealt with a two-CD Decca Eloquence Wagner collection of opera overtures and preludes performed by a host of orchestras and conductors. Buried among the familiar nuggets was the C-Major Symphony with Edo de Waart leading the San Francisco Symphony. Miller hears influences of Beethoven and, even more strongly, strains of Schubert in the work, and I wouldn’t disagree with him. Wagner was 19 when he wrote the piece in 1832, so it can’t be said that he was a precocious genius on the order of Mozart, Schubert, or Mendelssohn. It’s a pretty formulaic score, strongly redolent of some of Beethoven’s overtures and, curiously, Schubert’s Ninth, which Wagner could not have heard, since its first public performance was given by Mendelssohn in 1839.
A review of the E-Major Symphony goes back even further, to issue 20:4. Submitted by William Youngren, it covers an EMI recording by Wolfgang Sawallisch conducting the Philadelphia Orchestra. Wagner’s second attempt at a symphony dates from 1834, but he never completed it. An Allegro con spirito first movement and 30 bars of an Adagio cantabile second movement are all he wrote. Moreover, Wagner didn’t orchestrate it. That task fell to the conductor Felix Mottl when Cosima Wagner enlisted him for the job. The symphony opens with a gesture startlingly reminiscent of the overture to Beethoven’s Fidelio.
Those recordings are still available. I’m afraid I don’t have either of them, but I do have a fine 1992 Denon CD containing both scores with Hiroshi Wakasugi leading the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony, a disc you’ll find listed by Amazon but not by ArkivMusic. This new Chandos SACD, however, with Neeme Järvi’s tight grip on the reins and the recording’s deep stage and phenomenal spotting of instruments, is definitely the way to go, if these early works by Wagner interest you.
The Huldigungsmarsch is another item Wagner didn’t orchestrate himself, at least not completely. Purely out of a need for money, Wagner wrote the piece to pleasure the mad king of Bavaria, Ludwig II, originally scoring it for military band. He then began orchestrating the march for symphony orchestra but deferred to the advice of conductor Hans von Bülow to allow Joachim Raff to complete the task. One can’t help but wonder what this says about von Bülow’s opinion of Wagner’s abilities. Raff, you will recall, is the composer who also assisted Liszt with orchestrating some of his works.
Genesis of the Kaisermarsch is a little more complicated. In 1871, the Peters publishing house commissioned Wagner to write something upbeat and patriotic to cheer the troops and boost German morale during the Franco-Prussian war. Like the Huldigungsmarsch , the Kaisermarsch was originally scored for military band, but barely two months later, to celebrate the German victory and the coronation of the Prussian king as emperor of the newly founded German Reich, Wagner rescored the piece for symphony orchestra and added to the end of it a kind of community sing-along set to a sacred text for a strictly secular ceremonial occasion. As note author Emanuel Overbecke points out, “Wagner proved himself ever the political pragmatist, for only four years earlier he had dismissed the same monarch as feeble and ineffectual.” The choral finale is not included on the current recording.
Rienzi, der Letzte der Tribunen , or just Rienzi as it’s commonly known, was Wagner’s first real stage hit after a string of operatic works that were either left unfinished or that were completed and mounted but with little success. First produced in Dresden in 1842, Rienzi would also be Wagner’s last opera in which the Italian influence is strongly felt. Even before Rienzi premiered, Wagner had completed his next opera, The Flying Dutchman , in 1841. Rienzi’s overture is a staple of recorded collections featuring the overtures, preludes, and orchestral music from Wagner’s operas. Beginning at around 2:45, the slow-moving, chorale-like intoning of the brass, overlaid by striding, leaping figurations in the strings, anticipates the same technique Wagner used for similar effect in the overture to Tannhäuser two years later.
All of the works on this disc, with the exception of the Rienzi overture, have relatively few recorded listings and, to my knowledge, this is their first in surround sound. If you’re a Wagner fan, and your interest in his music extends beyond his operas, I can think of no reason for you not to be thrilled by this release. Neeme Järvi, the Royal Scottish National Orchestra, and Chandos have teamed up countless times over the years to bring us many truly outstanding recordings, and this is another of them.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
Chihara: Viola Concerto & Music For Viola
Brahms: Piano Concerto No 1 / Berman, Leinsdorf, Chicago Symphony
Wagner: Overtures and Preludes
Korngold: Sursum Corda, Etc / Bamert, Et Al
Composed when Korngold was only 14, the four-movement 'Sinfonietta', portrays a phenomenal expertise both in organization of musical ideas and in the handling of the orchestra: exquisitely orchestrated and crafted with an idiosyncrasy of harmony and rhythmic manipulation. Coupled with 'Sursum corda', an early virtuoso showpiece, and extraordinarily sumptuous piece, reminiscent of 'Pines of Rome', some of it was later used as some of the material for Korngold's score for 'Robin Hood' for which he received an Academy Award. Bamert's performances of these compelling examples of Korngold's early orchestral output were well received by the critics on original release, and are welcomed onto the Classics label for the first time. 'Here are glorious performances of two of his early orchestral works.' - BBC Music Magazine
Berlioz: Overtures / Andrew Davis, Bergen Philharmonic
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The Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra under Sir Andrew Davis here perform seven dazzling orchestral overtures by Hector Berlioz, a composer who excelled in blending literary and musical elements into highly energetic and personal creations.
The overtures are widely varied in mood, as are the operas from which they were drawn. Berlioz wrote his first large-scale instrumental composition, the Overture to Les Francs-juges, in 1826, the year in which he enrolled at the Paris Conservatoire. Even though the opera itself was never performed, Berlioz remained proudly affectionate of the overture, which was played all over Germany and Holland in its early days. His second opera, Benvenuto Cellini, followed in 1838; its music gave rise both to the opera’s overture and to the concert overture Le Carnaval romain which depicts its subject in brilliant colour through breathtakingly vibrant orchestration.
The comic opera Béatrice et Bénédict took its inspiration from Shakespeare’s Much Ado about Nothing. The overture draws on an intense solo scene for Béatrice and adds elements of the cheerful banter that make up the story of the title characters’ playful courtship.
When Berlioz visited the Hungarian capital Pest in 1846, it was suggested to him that one way of winning the hearts of the audiences there would be to make an arrangement of the beloved Rákóczy March, which up until that point had been known only as a piano piece. Berlioz agreed, and on the very night before he left for Pest, he put together his own orchestral version of the piece. It was a resounding success when performed at his first concert, to the extent that Berlioz promptly included it in the large work on which he was working at the time: La Damnation de Faust.
Le Roi Lear, Le Corsaire, and Waverley have one thing in common: all are independent concert pieces that have been given the title overture as in many respects they do resemble opera overtures – but none is in actual fact connected to an opera. The composer here took his inspiration from literary works. Le Roi Lear, for instance, is a remarkable tone portrait of Shakespeare’s deranged king, full of energy and anger, while Le Corsaire may be loosely based on Byron’s The Corsair. Berlioz based Waverley on a novel of the same name by Sir Walter Scott, and the score bears a quotation in English: ‘Dreams of love and Lady’s charms, give place to honour and to arms.’ The contrast expressed so well in this simple quotation is equally evident in the music itself. Here the ‘dreams of love’ unfold in a long cello melody, which is repeated with richer orchestrations, before leading into the vigorous musical depiction of ‘honour and arms’. - Chandos
Respighi: La Boutique Fantasque, Etc / Noseda, Bbc Po
This is the second recording from the BBC Philharmonic under its brilliant new Principal Conductor, Gianandrea Noseda. The disc features some of Respighi's most popular music, the glittering ballet 'La Boutique fantasque', alongside the rare and intriguing 'Prelude and fugue in D major' and 'La pentola magica'. Recorded in: Studio 7, New Broadcasting House, Manchester 2, 5 & 6 October 2002 Producer(s) Ralph Couzens Mike George Sound Engineer(s) Stephen Rinker Denise Else (Assistant)
IGOR MARKEVITCH CONDUCTS SCHUB
Movies - Rota: La Strada, Sinfonia, Waltzes, Etc / Conti
Nino Rota achieve international recognition primarily as a composer of film music. His most admired and enduring work in this field sprang from his collaboration with Federico Fellini. However, his orchestral music has recently undergone a reappraisal. Much of this music is rare on CD and this programme is unique. Recorded in: Teatro Massimo, Palermo, Italy 19-21 July 2002 Producer(s) Gian Andrea Lodovici Sound Engineer(s) Matteo Costa
Salut d'amour / Anne Akiko Meyers, Sandra Rivers
Bach: Orchestral Suite No. 3 In D Major, Bwv 1068 - Brahms: Symphony No. 4 In E Minor, Op. 98
Zimmermann: Concerto pour violoncello - Photoptosis - Tratto
Penderecki: Seven Gates Of Jerusalem / Kord, Warsaw Po
THE COMPLETE WORKS FOR VIOLONC
Balakirev: Grand Fantasia, 30 Songs / Krimets, Banowetz
The track from this album was nominated for the 2008 Grammy Award for "Best Chamber Music Performance."
Stravinsky: l'Oiseau de feu, Le Sacre du printemps / Tilson Thomas, San Francisco Symphony
Here's a slightly odd trio. 'The Firebird' and 'The Rite of Spring' are two of the three ballets that so sensationally launched Igor Stravinsky's career, but instead of including the intervening 'Petrouchka,' the package features 'Persephone,' a difficult-to-classify work from two decades later. Dancer Ida Rubenstein commissioned this combination of rhythmic narration, singing, and dance, hooking Stravinsky up with writer Andre Gide to concoct a telling of the myth of Persephone, daughter of the fertility goddess Demeter, whose journey to the underworld causes winter to descend upon the Earth. It is a kinder, gentler, classicized 'Rite of Spring' of sorts, and one of Stravinsky's freshest, most beautiful, and sadly neglected scores.
All three works receive alert, sensitive, and wonderfully colorful performances from Michael Tilson Thomas and the San Francisco Symphony, made all the more alluring by a truly sensational recording.
Ofra Harnoy - Offenbach: Concerto Militaire, Etc; Lalo
The Concerto militaire opens with a very Offenbachian tutti – robbed a little of its sparkle here by rather too resonant a recording – which introduces the characterful dotted march theme that affords the work its sobriquet (the composer’s own); but the soaring secondary theme is even more striking. The concerto dates from 1847 and the conductor of the present recording, Antonio di Almeida, who is also an authority on Offenbach, tells us in the notes that no complete autograph score exists although there is a set of the original orchestral parts. This is perhaps – although not certainly – held at the Offenbach Archive in Cologne. The published score used here is revised and reconstructed by the French cellist, Jean-Max Clement, who orchestrated the last two movements, using the piano score and keeping to the style and scale of the opening movement. He also had a considerable hand in revising, even devising, the often complex solo part which appears never to have been written out in full by its composer (especially in the finale, where the cadenza is by Clement alone). Some of the bravura solo writing in the extreme upper tessitura of the first movement approaches the ridiculous in appearing to throw all caution to the winds, but perhaps that was the composer’s own joke. What is fascinating is that Offenbach himself revised the second movement Andante, richly expanding its scoring to make a separate concertante piece. It has a glorious main theme and in Harnoy’s ravishing performance it is the highlight of this CD. In the concerto she is more than equal to the bristling difficulties of the solo part yet swoons like a very stylish operetta heroine in the ardent lyrical lines, characteristically and subtly using the widest range of dynamics to add to the sense of poetic spontaneity. The genial finale, with its jaunty main theme, comes off splendidly.
Almeida accompanies the Offenbach sympathetically and persuasively and cello and orchestra are naturally balanced: I only wish that the otherwise flattering acoustic of the Wessex Hall in the Poole Arts Centre had not also provided such a high degree of resonance. It suits the Lalo Concerto much better and the melodramatic opening tutti, laminated with heavy brass, is as portentous as you like. Again a very good recording balance both ensures that the soloist’s disarmingly gentle recitativo projects naturally, and readily tames the vehement orchestral protests. Almeida opens the engaging “Intermezzo” with a nice touch of melancholy, delicately setting the scene for the doleful cello entry, while the central scherzando episode brings some deliciously light flute decoration for the soloist’s gentle whimsy. The finely graduated and eloquently phrased solo introduction for the finale again shows Harnoy at her most imaginative, and there is a buoyant eruption of energy to follow.
-- Ivan March, Gramophone [11/1996]
Mozart: Flute Concertos / Rampal, Mehta, Israel PO
Rameau / Bob James
Mahler: Symphony No 4; Mozart: Exsultate, Jubilate / Szell
Mendelssohn: Symphonies Nos. 3 & 5
Brahms: Piano Concerto No 1; Strauss: Burleske / Szell, Serkin
Serkin is said to have disliked recording and his legacy is mixed, technically and artistically. Yet, at best, his driving energy, his fierce intelligence, his quick mind, and (until comparatively recently) his unfailing lucidity of touch often produced recordings that do that rare thing: they transcend the medium.
One such recording is his 1968 Cleveland account of Brahms's D minor Piano Concerto which Sony have recently reissued...coupled with another Serkin speciality, Richard Strauss's Burleske for piano and orchestra. Serkin "at the peak of his form, emotionally, intellectually, and technically" is how Trevor Harvey described the performance in these columns in May 1969 and I wouldn't disagree with that. From the piano's first entry it is evident that we are in the presence of a musical plain-dealer who is something more besides. The touch is plain but never monochrome, resolute but never harsh. There are miracles of dynamic shading yet dynamic changes that are elementally swift and steep. Above all, there is a revelatory way with rhythm, full of potency and drive in quicker music, and turning the more reflective passages into slow sustained acts of transcendental enquiry. As a reading this has something of Arrau's weight and profundity (Philips D 420 702-2PSL, 11/87) matched to Curzon's lyricism and sense of forward drive (Decca D 417 641-2DH, 10/87, also conducted by Szell). It is not better than either but it has some of the best qualities of both. There are those, it must be said, who are distracted by Serkin's stamping pedalwork and by breathing that has Serkin, like Arrau, cross-hatching the lie of a phrase with his own peculiar form of musical emphysema. Such things don't worry me unduly. You can't expect a man to go up the north face of the Eiger, silently, in carpet-slippers; and, in the slow movement, I find the counterpointing of Serkin's stressful breathing, with the sublimely conjured and spun melody that floats from it, to be a moving re-enactment of the composer's own recalcitrance in the face of the brute marble out of which this concerto is sculpted.
Szell and the Cleveland Orchestra are, needless to say, superb accompanists, and the sound is excellent in an appropriately forthright way, with pianissimos that are not so much pianissimo as properly hushed and innig. I don't agree with the reviewer who found Serkin's account of the Strauss Burleske to be lacking in poetry. Rather, it glints; it is sharp and witty. Above all, the performance redeems the work from its principal failing: the sense it can give of being marginally but fatally over length... [I]f you want a truly worthy memorial of this great pianist from the current batch, there is absolutely no doubt that the Brahms/Strauss disc is the one to have.
-- Gramophone [7/1991]
