"[T]he first three symphonies are treated to exuberant readings, with lots of Haydnesque brio, except in the slow movements, where Schubert’s lyricism comes to the fore. Maazel and company change gears very comfortably, shifting in the Second Symphony from the boisterous ebullience of the first movement to the tender naïveté of the following Andante. And back again, in the propulsive Menuetto and Presto vivace finale. I’m happy that my favorite among the first six, No. 3, receives a model performance, from the hushed, feathery violin figures in the Adagio maestoso introduction to the breakneck Presto vivace finale. Maazel makes all the right moves as far as I’m concerned, and I’m as happy with this performance as with any on disc...

Schubert’s last two symphonies, with their grander gestures and grander orchestral palette, actually sound just a bit small-scale in these performances, and I think that reflects an interpretive trend rather than any outright lack on the part of conductor or orchestra. Basically, these are excellent readings, fully idiomatic, without an ounce of extraneous rubato or other grandstanding gestures that conductors often impose on this music, especially the Great C Major. The comparative lightness of texture in Maazel’s interpretation recalls recent performances I’ve heard by the likes of the Northern Sinfonia under Thomas Zehetmair (Avie) and the Budapest Festival Orchestra under Ivan Fischer (Channel Classics). A far cry from one of my favorites of another era, Georg Solti leading a hefty Vienna Philharmonic (Decca). Both approaches seem valid to me. Certainly, Maazel brings great nobility to this score; the sense of momentum with which he invests the last movement makes this the worthy high point of the set.

The Bavarian orchestra plays with expected fervor but with great discipline as well; in fact, you could be forgiven if in a blind test you thought these performances were set down in a studio—at least before you heard the applause at the end of each symphony. And except for the usual balance problem here and there, the recordings are quite good. There are a number of fine recordings of the eight Schubert symphonies available; I now count Maazel’s among them.

—Lee Passarella, Audiophile Audition

Classical Music

The Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks has already performed Beethoven symphony cycles on several occasions. Mariss Jansons has now extended the cycle concept in two respects: with works specially commissioned from contemporary composers, who have contributed their own musical reflections on Beethoven symphonies, and by presenting these outstanding concert events on the record market as a series of live recordings. Following the excellent response from critics and audiences for the award-winning Complete Edition (BR-KLASSIK, 900119), BR-KLASSIK now presents the symphonies on individual CDs. The first of these is the Symphony No 3 in E Flat, op 55, in a live recording made in 2012 in Munich's Herkulessaal, accompanied by a work of the Russian composer Rodion Shchedrin (born 1932). For his symphonic fragment "Beethoven's Heiligenstadt Testament," Schedrin has selected the devastating document - written around the same time as the Eroica - in which the composer described the progressive deafness that almost drove him to suicide.

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Classical Music

Classical Music

Selections recorded January 30 and February 3, 1991.

BALAKIREV: Symphonies Nos. 1 and 2 / Piano Concerto in F-Sha

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Classical Music

BRASS OVER

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Classical Music

MAHLER Symphony No. 3 1. BRAHMS Piano Concerto No. 1 2 • Jascha Horenstein, cond; 1 Helen Watts (a); 1 Dennis Egan (posthorn); 1 Denis Wick (tbn); 1 Highgate School Ch; 1 Orpington Junior Singers; 2 Claudio Arrau (pn); 1 London SO & Ch; 2 French Natl RSO • ARCHIPEL 557, mono (2 CDs: 145:01) Live: 1 London 11/16/1961; 2 Montreux 9/17/1962


Sometimes you come to appreciate some of the conducting legends of the past when you have first listened to one of the conducting duds of the present, and that was my experience with this Mahler Third. I had just suffered (yes, I believe that is the precise word) through Carla Delfrate butchering the music of French opera composers when I put on this Mahler Third. The difference in musical intelligence, feeling, phrasing, rhythmic lift, and correctly judged tempos was like escaping the River Styx and being elevated to Valhalla.


Yet even without such a quantum leap in conducting quality, one cannot escape the feeling that this Mahler Third was indeed one of the great, even momentous, concerts of the 20th century. Shockingly for such a late date, this was its first professional performance in England, and those familiar with Horenstein’s work will know that the British were extremely lucky to have him for this concert. Just about the only negative thing one can note about this recording is the somewhat dry mono sound—good for a 1961 broadcast (indeed, better than Horenstein’s equally legendary Mahler Eighth) but still restricted in sonics. But heavens, what a performance! I actually think that Horenstein’s performance of the first movement even outstrips that of Georg Solti, which up until now was my all-time favorite reading of it, largely due to the more finely detailed layering of the instrumental texture. Despite the boxiness, you hear everything, and every instrument or instrumental group seems to have something important to add to the overall “story” of the music. Nor was I alone in my reaction: At the end of the movement, the London audience does something highly uncharacteristic for the British at an orchestral concert: they roundly applaud the first movement. It’s quite an achievement, and it seems almost incredible that this is its first-ever commercial release.


Moreover, unlike Solti (and even unlike his Nonesuch studio recording of this Symphony with the same orchestra), Horenstein’s intensity and musical drive never slacken in this performance, not even for a millisecond. Seldom have I heard the second movement played so exquisitely, the strings singing sweetly and the rhythmic underpinning simply astonishing. Many years ago, before I began reviewing, I bought, heard, and was disappointed by James Levine’s Mahler Third recording, and I was only slightly more impressed by a live performance he gave with Jessye Norman as the mezzo soloist in Carnegie Hall. I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong with it, but this Horenstein performance has everything right about it that Levine simply got wrong. Perhaps too much “devotion,” too much psychoanalyzing Mahler at the time he wrote it, and too little of just digging into the score and translating it into sound? It’s hard to say at the remove of 40 years, but let’s just say that Horenstein has the full measure of this Symphony while Levine only had a fair idea of it.


Now, one should be aware that Horenstein’s view of the score is not always 100 percent what Mahler wrote. He sometimes ignores tempo changes and gives his own spin on the music, but to my ears everything he does in this performance works well. Not to keep beating the same drum, but that first movement is an excellent example. In the studio recording, it went along at an almost dirge-like pace; here, it is utterly dynamic and thrilling. In both the studio and live versions, the posthorn solo is beautifully played by Dennis Egan, and this is one moment in this broadcast where the sonics are good enough to give the listener a fine sense of “space.” Helen Watts’s singing is rich and beautiful, although not quite as expressive in detail as Janet Baker with Michael Tilson Thomas (Sony-CBS) or Ewa Podle? with Antoni Wit (Naxos), my other two favorite Mahler Thirds. The Highgate School Choir is superb, having that sound that one somehow instinctively associates with British children’s choirs. Horenstein’s tempo in the last movement is brisk when compared to other Mahlerians (21:13 compared to Tilson Thomas’s 26:13 or Wit’s 25:31), which some listeners may interpret as a race to the finish on Horenstein’s part, but just listen to the feeling he elicits from the LSO; and, at this clip, the movement lacks its usual “draggy” feeling, as if it were an interminable exercise in bathos. Now, of course, it can and does also work well at the slower tempos that Tilson Thomas and Wit use, but that is the magic of Mahler. His symphonies, unlike almost any others I can think of, can withstand nearly any and every tempo change one can put into them. The only thing they cannot withstand is a boring reading, and boring is not a word one can apply to this performance.


As a bonus (since the entire Third Symphony clocks in at a few seconds under 90 minutes) we age given an equally spectacular reading of the Brahms Piano Concerto No. 1 with Claudio Arrau as soloist. My readers know that I like but do not really love Arrau as a pianist; everything he played was good and usually had the right style, but many of his performances and recordings are no better than those of several other pianists. Here, however, he truly sounds caught up in the moment, not least due to Horenstein’s exquisite shaping and phrasing of the music. Although I still love Fritz Reiner’s dynamic 1954 account with Rubinstein and Max Fiedler’s old-world and slightly eccentric (but still musical) performance from the early 1930s (with Alfred Hoehn as soloist), there is just something so shapely and well-phrased about Horenstein’s reading of the orchestral part that it grabs your attention and doesn’t let go. Arrau takes a while to heat up—his entrance is played very well but not with any particular abandon, but then just listen to the way he responds with both remarkable fire and stunning nuance to the equally nuanced playing of the French Radio and TV Orchestra. The best way to describe this performance, overall, is as an alternation of a singing line with ebb and flow against the dramatic outbursts, the latter never dull but also never so explosive that they ruin the line of the music. Oh, there are many of those among our young conductors today who could learn a thing or three from Horenstein about phrasing! True, the strings in the last movement sound a little scrappy, but no matter. The musical treatment and intensity of this performance trumps technical polish.


Archipel provides absolutely no liner notes with this release, not even a sentence or two to tell prospective buyers who Jascha Horenstein was. Even though I know that a recording like this is aimed at the collectors’ market, that very few people will bother with a 53-year-old mono recording of the Mahler Third when they can get digital stereo from Tilson Thomas, Wit, or the late Claudio Abbado (another outstanding version), but I still feel that the label owes it to those few who are under age 30 and buy this release to let them know who Horenstein was and explain his importance. Otherwise, I recommend this set highly.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

Recorded in: All Saints' Church, Tooting, London 1 January 1984 Producer(s) Brian Couzens Sound Engineer(s) Ralph Couzens Bill Todd [Assistant]

Recorded in: Wessex Hall, Poole Arts Centre Recorded in: Winter Gardens, Bournemouth Recorded 1992 -1994 Producer(s) Brian Couzens Sound Engineer(s) Ralph Couzens Richard Smoker (Assistant: Piano Concerto; Praeludium) Ben Connellan (Assistant: Fantasia on a Theme of Handel) Richard Lee (Assistant: other works)

Since his inauguration as the new General Music Director of the Dortmunder Philharmoniker (Dortmund Philharmonic) in the 2013/14 season, Gabriel Feltz has been able to draw attention to himself and his orchestra with a series of high-caliber performances and productions that have been noticed throughout Germany. Since its foundation in 1887 the Dortmunder Philharmoniker have consistently been at the forefront of Germany’s concert and opera orchestras. The recording of the first Rachmaninoff symphony is another highlight in the highly praised Rachmaninoff cycle. This special work is the least performed of Rachmaninoff’s symphonies, partially due to the disturbing feeling one gets when listening to the work for the first time, as opposed to his other symphonies which sound more familiar. The First Symphony was written when the composer was only 22, but as this recording proves it is more than just a youthful work- it turns out to be a very singular contribution to the genus “symphony.”

16.99

R. STRAUSS Der Rosenkavalier: Suite. Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks. 4 Last Songs • Mariss Jansons, cond; Anja Harteros (sop); Bavarian RSO • BR 900707 (63:33)


In the program notes, Mariss Jansons is quoted as saying in reference to Richard Strauss that “His music has accompanied me all my life and still stirs me very deeply.” Despite that, his interpretations are curiously understated. The Rosenkavalier Suite is beautifully, almost reverentially played, but is surprisingly subdued. The explosive opening and buildup to Octavian’s grand entry in act II lack passion, exhilaration, and breathless anticipation. Jansons’ pacing is consistently slow to the point where the “Presentation of the Rose” sequence almost loses momentum. The same is true of the waltzes. They sound lovely, but all of this lyrical and slow music tends to drag and lack dynamic contrast, especially in this suite (as opposed to Antál Doráti’s version with its well-positioned and more extensive inclusion of the comical music that opens act III). The Trio is gorgeous at the by now expected very slow speed (how can it not be?). The temptation to linger over this sublime music must be nearly irresistible. However, this Marschallin, Octavian, and Sophie sound like they are on Valium.


Till Eulenspiegel is similarly relaxed, slow, and finely nuanced. The overall effect is light and balletic (not a bad thing). Jansons’s Till is a very lighthearted prankster. In this case, ample contrast is provided by some incisive and powerful bass drum thwacks. It is a pleasure to hear the flawless horn and woodwind soloists in this incredibly refined orchestra.


If you are sympathetic toward the Jansons/Anja Harteros interpretation of the Four Last Songs , this will be for you because they do it really well. Harteros is unfailingly pitch-perfect and her approach is almost operatic. Jansons’ tempos are middle of the road, but the general impression is that they are swifter. In contrast to Der Rosenkavalier , he doesn’t linger here. The execution of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra is truly amazing throughout this recording. I can’t remember hearing Strauss’s remarkable orchestration being presented with this degree of clarity that sounds more cool and transparent than dense and lush.


The sound is solid without ever being overtly flashy. Audiophiles may complain that this is the wrong way to record Strauss, but the engineering does successfully complement the laid-back performances. There is a good compromise between realistic orchestral balance and fine instrumental detail. Harteros is miked very closely and appears to be in a brighter acoustic setting than the orchestra.


These performances will appeal to anyone who wants immaculate and well-controlled orchestral and vocal execution. Clearly, this is not an interpretive approach to Strauss that will appeal to everyone. It works best in the Four Last Songs , which are indeed very special. Even though the Rosenkavalier Suite sounds a little cool and sedate, you still get the opportunity to hear Harteros and the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra work their magic in music that is clearly in their blood.


FANFARE: Arthur Lintgen

Dvorák's Ninth Symphony with the nickname “From the New World” is one of the most popular of all time, due to its emotional fore. It is one of the highlights of the complete recording of symphonic works of the Czech by Marcus Bosch and the Staatsphilharmonie Nürnberg (State Philharmonic Orchestra Nuremberg). The unfortunately little-known symphonic poem, “The Noon Witch”, is added to the musical program and convinces with musical drama.

This collection of works for guitar and orchestra is celebratory in more ways than one. In its choice of composers it highlights a neat progression of anniversaries: 2001 marks the eightieth birthday of Sir Malcolm Arnold, 2002 the centenary of Sir William Walton and 2003 the centenary of Sir Lennox Berkeley. This is also a celebration of the guitar itself as these works represent an approach independent of traditionally Spanish and Latin-American orientated or inspired music. Recorded in: Jubilee Hall, Newcastle 20-21 January 2001 Producer(s) Ralph Couzens Sound Engineer(s) Jonathan Cooper Christopher Brooke (Assistant)

Gustav Mahler wanted his Second Symphony to exceed any known format - and he also wanted it to tackle the key questions of existence: "Why have you lived? Why have you suffered? Is everything just one enormous, terrible joke? We have to solve these questions in some way if we want to carry on living," said the composer. Similar questions preoccupied him throughout his life, and with a special intensity during his time as an opera conductor in Hamburg. The Second Symphony, also referred to as the "Resurrection Symphony", is a complete expression of Mahler’s existential struggle; both its form and its overpowering sound make this utterly clear. The symphony took several years to compose – it was written between 1888 and 1894. In September 1888, the first movement – which at this point still bore the title "Totenfeier” (“Funeral Rite”) – was already complete. The second and third movements were not written until 1893 and Mahler only completed the entire work in 1894. Like most of Mahler’s symphonies, the work follows a "Per aspera ad astra" pattern (“through difficulties to the stars”). Starting with a funeral march in the main theme of the opening movement - the passing of a life full of vigor, pain, blows of fate, and only a few brief and beautiful moments - the symphony concludes with a triumphant resurrection movement. The premiere of the complete symphony took place on December 13, 1895 in Berlin under Mahler's direction; previously (on March 4 of that year) he had already performed the first three movements. The premiere of the Second Symphony thus took place after that of the Third. The reactions were initially subdued, but today the work ranks as one of the most popular of Mahler’s symphonies.

LIGHT ENTERTAINEMNT & THE KING

Recorded in: Orchestra Hall, Detroit 12,13 November 1994 & 26 May 1996 Recorded in: Orchestra Hall, Chicago 20-22 & 25 April 1989 & 30 January-3 February 1991 Producer(s) Charles Greenwell Ralph Couzens Lan Shui (assistant) Chris Hazell - Chicago Sound Engineer(s) Dan Dene Robert Shafer Mitchell Heller - Chicago

It was during the summer of 1911 that George Butterworth (a victim of The Great War, and whose enchanting 1913 idyll, The Banks of Green Willow, comprises the achingly poignant curtain-raiser here) first suggested to Vaughan Williams that he should write a purely orchestral symphony. VW dug out some sketches he had made for a symphonic poem about London, whilst at the same time deriving fruitful inspiration from HG Wells’s 1908 novel, Tono-Bungay (and its visionary final chapter in particular). Geoffrey Toye gave the successful Queen’s Hall premiere in March 1914, and VW subsequently dedicated the score to Butterworth’s memory. Over the next two decades or so, the work underwent three revisions (including much judicious pruning) and was published twice (in 1920 and 1936). In his compelling 1941 recording with the Cincinnati SO, Eugene Goossens employed the 1920 version, which adds about three minutes of music to that definitive 1936 ‘revised edition’. Now Richard Hickox at long last gives us the chance to hear VW’s original, hour-long canvas – and riveting listening it makes too!

Whereas the opening movement is as we know it today, the ensuing, expanded Lento acquires an intriguingly mournful, even world-weary demeanour. Unnervingly, the ecstatic full flowering of that glorious E major Largamente idea, first heard at fig F in the final revision, never materialises, and the skies glower menacingly thereafter. Towards the end of the Scherzo (at 5'44) comes a haunting episode that Arnold Bax was particularly sad to see cut (‘a mysterious passage of strange and fascinating cacophony’ was how he described it in his autobiography, Farewell, My Youth [Scholar Press; 1992]). The finale, too, contains a wealth of additional material, most strikingly a liturgical theme of wondrous lyrical beauty (try from 6'42) and, in the epilogue, a gripping paragraph (beginning at 15'47) which both looks back to the work’s introduction as well as forward to the first movement of A Pastoral Symphony. Sprawling it may be, but VW’s epic conception evinces a prodigal inventiveness, poetry, mystery and vitality that do not pall with repeated hearings, and, time and again, I find myself marvelling at just how hugely influential its intoxicatingly colourful orchestral palette must have been on Holst’s The Planets and even Bax’s wartime tone-poems.

Hickox and the LSO respond with an unquenchable spirit, generous flexibility and tender affection that suit VW’s admirably ambitious inspiration to a T, and Chandos’s sound is big and bold to match. Quite simply, an essential purchase for anyone remotely interested in British music.

-- Gramophone [7/2001]