VON SUPPÉ: OVERTURES GUSTAV K

Rachel Roberts reveals why many consider her one of the greatest violists of this time. Her match with Lars Vogt on piano is unmatched. Both artists consider the repertoire on this album to be the most important for viola and piano.

Charles Louis Hanssens was born into a family of Ghent musicians. His father was the director of the Ghent Opera and his uncle, a composer for many years. In 1828, Hanssens took an exam in composition, which was judged to Luigi Cherubini and Antonin Reicha. This led to his being appointed as a teacher of harmony and composition at the Brussels Royal School of Music. After the Belgian Revolution, Hanssens was suspected or "organgism" and left to work in Amsterdam and Paris. After the successful creation of the Requiem, he composed in 1837 to commemorate the victims of the Belgian Revolution, he was rehabilitated so that he was able to again settle in his native Ghent. Hanssens left an impressive body of work, including choral works, operas, cantatas, oratorios, masses, a Requiem, numerous works for chamber orchestra and much more.

The work was never performed; its main characters have no singing parts; the music written for the original project was later reworked and reused in several other stage productions. So what exactly is the attraction of Handel’s incidental music for Alceste, a play by Tobias Smollett based on the tragedy by Euripides? First, we should know that the original production—what would have been an elaborate and costly affair, involving a host of performers, supported by a large orchestra and showy scenery—was abruptly cancelled before the opening. Various theories exist as to the reason, but suffice it to say, after the event Handel happily carved up his score to satisfy the needs of other productions, and Smollett’s play ultimately was lost. Which brings us back to the question: What’s the attraction here, with this reassembled program of (much of) Handel’s music for Alceste? For me, the answer is, the two gorgeous soprano arias sung by the Muse Calliope, “Gentle Morpheus, son of night; That when bright Aurora’s beams” and “Come, Fancy, empress of the brain”. But I have to add that although Handel graced these arias with some of his loveliest tunes, they are made extraordinary here by the singing of Lucy Crowe. And this is the true attraction of this program and this disc, which is not to discount the fine contributions of the rest of the cast and players.

It’s just that Crowe so completely embraces, embodies, and possesses her music, her voice so captivating, every phrase delivered with the natural, unmannered purity that comes with consummate technique and comprehensive textual understanding. For her, a climactic high note (as at the close of “Come fancy empress…”) is not an objective but a thing to savor in the context of the whole line, indeed of the whole song; and the reams of twirling runs are a means, albeit a free-spirited and fancy means, through the vibrant, verdant harmonic texture. Ah, but that high note—and also those many earlier passages of leaping intervals—are so perfectly sung, all the more affecting because they are so fleeting, uncatchable, and as a consequence, inevitably repeatable. And those signature Handelian runs—no one sings these with such ease, unencumbered as a bird in flight.

To be sure, there’s lots more to savor on this disc, including Christian Curnyn’s absolutely spot-on direction, keeping things moving with his superb orchestra at a theatrically cheerable pace, even without the actual “theatrical” bits of the original play to define the action (whatever it was). Who cares, when the music is this typically, engagingly Handelian? My only reservations are the usual ones in Handel’s vocal music: the tenor and bass, who both have very fine voices and an excellent sense of style, manage their melismatic passages via the “ha-ha-ha” school of vocalism—which is not only distracting (I would even say irritating), but technically faulty and musically unjustifiable. They are by no means serious offenders—but the mannerism is noticeable; however, for the pure pleasure of Crowe’s singing, these are distractions that you can easily overlook, or skip over. This is one not to miss.

-- David Vernier, ClassicsToday.com

Alceste was planned as a lavish collaboration between the impresario John Rich, the celebrated set-designer Servandoni and the rambunctious author of Roderick Random, Tobias Smollett, but it never made it to the stage. Notes by the librettist Thomas Morell hint that the play may have been cancelled owing to Handel’s incidental music being too difficult for the cast. However, it seems that Rich may simply have decided that an adaptation of a drama by Euripides was too risky a venture. This was, after all, a period in which the tastes of the London audience were as volatile as the explosives that had destroyed Servandoni’s Temple of Peace during the Green Park performance of Handel’s Music for the Royal Fireworks.

Christian Curnyn’s delicious recording of the surviving score is amplified with a sinfonia from Admeto and a passacaglia from Radamisto. These fizzy, sexily swung orchestral additions emphasise the parallels between Handel’s incidental music and Purcell’s music for King Arthur, The Fairy Queen and The Tempest.

Though Alceste was written in 1749-50 and features one aria that could only date from that time (the exquisite lullaby ‘Gentle Morpheus, son of night’), it observes the contours of a Restoration masque. Alcestis’s journey to the Underworld is enchanting, with Curnyn’s fleet strings, intimately proportioned chorus, and polished soloists, soprano Lucy Crowe, tenor Benjamin Hulett and bass-baritone Andrew Foster-Williams. The choral writing marries the pastoral delicacy of Handel’s Acis and Galatea with stylings from Purcell’s Odes to St Cecilia, showing Handel’s feel for local tastes, and Curnyn’s perceptive approach to Handel.
Performance: 5 (out of 5); Sound: 5 (out of 5)

-- Anna Picard, BBC Music Magazine

Childhood-related but mature and attractive music, well performed and recorded.


Bryden Thomson had something of a reputation for slowish tempi, savouring the music a little too much as he went along. I find this less irksome in his performances of Bax, for example, than some reviewers, and it is not too much in evidence here. He is often faster than Boult; only rarely is he slower.

The Slumber Scene (track 6) is one exception: here, at 4:27, he is exactly a whole minute slower than Boult’s 3:27. EM, who has already reviewed this recording – see review – also noted that Thomson takes whole minute longer over this movement than Handley – at least, I think he meant to say that Thomson was slower, not shorter.

Not recalling that I had thought this movement at all slow in my first run-through, I let several days elapse before listening carefully to the Boult version, fully prepared to think his timing too rushed. It was no such thing – he captures the spirit of the piece perfectly. Having put on the Boult recording in order to check the one track, I just couldn’t resist playing the whole thing. This is a wonderful recording and EMI should urgently consider reissuing it, perhaps more appropriately coupled – the music and performance are even worthy to sit alongside the Enigma Variations. I note that JQ welcomed its most recent appearance on EMI British Classics with enthusiasm.

Then I played the Thomson again and derived equal pleasure from it. At first I thought the recording not quite as full as the Boult – EMI’s ADD sound is very good for its age – but that is an aural delusion resulting from the fact that the EMI transfer is at a slightly higher rate: turn up the Chandos a notch and the illusion disappears. Both performances and recordings deliver plenty of power where it is need.

Did Thomson’s Slumber Scene sound too slumberous? Only marginally – heard on its own, without comparison, it’s perfectly fine. I’ve said so often that tempo indications don’t always tell the full story that it’s time that I got it into my own noddle. I do think, however, that the March which begins the second suite (tr.8) is a touch slow at 4:58 against Boult’s 4:26.

The Nursery Suite and Dream Children also receive fine performances – the latter from Norman del Mar, always idiomatic in English music – well recorded. At its new price, this recording is very welcome. In the absence of the Boult (temporary, I hope) this will do very nicely.

If you enjoy these pieces, you will probably react favourably to Elgar’s other piece of childhood-related music, The Starlight Express, Op.78 - not to be confused with the West End musical of that name; there’s a wonderful budget-price Vernon Handley version on Classics For Pleasure 5859072.

-- Brian Wilson, MusicWeb International

This notable new compilation will be of special interest to Strauss fans for it contains some of the composer's earliest work. The charming, rarely recorded Second Symphony in F minor was premiered when the composer was just twenty and the rich and flowing Romanze in F major dates from a year earlier. It is generally acknowledged that Järvi's accounts of Richard Strauss's orchestral works ranks amongst the finest available and here he works his usual magic to provide readings that have sweep, atmosphere and grandeur.

Järvi's performances of Brahm's popular 'Hungarian Dances' are now available at Mid-Price. The combination of the London Symphony Orchestra, Neeme Järvi and Chandos has ensured that these are amongst the best performances available. Recorded in: St Jude on the Hill, Hampstead, London 11-13 July 1988 and 13 October 1989 Producer(s) Brian Couzens Sound Engineer(s) Ralph Couzens Janet Middlebrook (Assistant) Peter Newble (Assistant)

Music of dissonant discontinuity and conflagration.

In this disc Lyrita steps about as far away as you can go from their accustomed heartland. This is music of dissonant discontinuity and conflagration – especially in the symphony. Its upheavals and eruptions are expressed in pointillistic silvery fragments and vertiginous stop-starts and mood-swings.sample We are immersed in this pool of imaginative effects immediately in Gerhard's Fourth - and final completed - Symphony. It stutters, creeps, excoriates and bawls. Previously recorded by Naive and by Chandos this its world premiere recording. In that sense it is an awesomely honest document recorded in the last year of Gerhard's life. In addition however it shouts the ultima thule of 1970s exclusivity and ivory towers.

The Violin Concerto is written in more beguilingly compromising tones. Here there is a connection with melody and an evident allegiance for the long melodic line even if it does have an astringent after-taste. Yfrah Neaman with his unmistakable silver thread of tone is as dedicated and fluent an interpreter as his BBC colleagues. In the finale Gerhard gives us a buzz-saw pell-mell climactic display - not above borrowing from Sarasate in mood rather than detail. Overall the concerto can be loosely and rather unsophisticatedly bracketed with the two Rawsthorne concertos, the Frankel and the Fricker; the latter reissued this month on Lyrita. The silence at the end of the concerto demands a burly if misty-eyed cheer from even the most impassive of listeners.

The BBCSO and its then conductor Colin Davis put this music through the hoops. Did anyone at the time think that these works would be recorded more than once. In the studio they must have thought they were recording these works for all time. The results certainly suggest that.

The completely satisfying notes are by MusicWeb writer Paul Conway one of the rising and risen authorities on twentieth century British music. Paul’s article on the Gerhard symphonies is well worth your attention … and mine. However don’t miss Guy Rickard’s article while you are here.

Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

Includes work(s) by Frank Bridge. Ensemble: London Philharmonic Orchestra. Conductor: Sir Adrian Boult.

Ernest John Moeran (1894-1950), still the least-known significant English composer of his generation, composed in his prime three large-scale works with orchestra, a symphony (1937), a violin concerto (1942) and a cello concerto (1945). Part of Moeran’s neglect may perhaps be attributed to his derivative musical style. Yet the positive individuality of Moeran’s music, which grew in strength as he became older and is finally shorn of all props in the masterly cello concerto, overrides these derivations in nearly all his works. He is a composer with something to say and an unwavering judgment about the way in which it must be said.

Manfred Honeck leads the prestigious Wiener Symphoniker on a musical journey through Austria on this release. For more than 40 years the Wiener Symphoniker's traditional "Springtime in Vienna" concert has been one of the great highlights of the Austrian capital's musical calendar. Broadcasted on live TV, featuring renowned conductors and a bouquet of spirited melodies, teh orchestra has drive out the winter and rang in the arrival of the new, spring season. For the first time ever, the 2016 edition, conducted by one of Austria's greatest present-day conductors, Manfred Honeck, has been recorded and will be released worldwide. This album contains a colorful program, including the Third Movement from Beethoven's Pastoral as well as special "delicacies" from Max Schronerr, Carl Michael Ziehrer and excerpts from Richard Strauss' rarely performed ballet "Schlagobers".

HIGHLIGHTS FROM THE LABEL SWR

Classical Music

This set includes 4 CDs, 1 blu-ray audio disc and 1 blu-ray video disc.

For Simon Rattle, Jean Sibelius is “one of the most staggeringly original composers that there is”. And indeed, this music has a unique musical language whose many beauties are particularly succinctly conveyed in Sibelius’s seven symphonies. In 2015, to celebrate the 150th anniversary of his birth, Simon Rattle and the Berliner Philharmoniker presented the cycle live, which was met with unanimous delight by audiences and critics alike. “The Philharmoniker show that with them and Simon Rattle, Sibelius is in excellent hands,” wrote the Berliner Zeitung.

The recording presents the symphonies on 4 CDs, two Blu-ray discs as HD video, in uncompressed audio resolution and DTS surround sound. The extensive product features include a comprehensive booklet and an hour-long video interview.

Melodic tonal music for saxophone and orchestra.

Bruzdowicz, a pupil of Messiaen with a gift for Gallic-accented melody, launches this collection with her Largo. It's from her film music for Jacquot de Nantes (1991) - Rachmaninov's Vocalise out of Fauré and with a decidedly sombre curve. Away from the soprano saxophone to the alto with Raman's gentle Aria which was inspired by the Bozza Aria. Raman was a pupil of Paul Chihara - who himself wrote a saxophone concerto (1981) which was premiered by Harvey Pittel in Boston. Raman's Aria moves in dove-gentle tones between Barber and Vaughan Williams. Kilar's Vocalise, with solo parts for harpsichord and piano, unfolds at unhurried leisure. It has the mien and plaintive droop of the quieter parts of Nyman's Where the Bee Dances. The Villa-Lobos is well enough known from the soprano original - a pity we do not get the whole thing. Leatherbarrow was born in England but is how studying in the USA. His Don Quixote in Love is an offshoot from a work-in-progress, tone-poem The Last Dream of Don Quixote for soprano saxophone and full orchestra. The work heard here is tender and melodic with a Delian susurration over which the saxophone slowly glides and courses. Gleaming strings melt their way from phrase to phrase. The sound recalls an intensely romantic take on the ‘seagull music’ from Watership Down. Bozza's equable and feminine Aria is the oldest piece here. It was dedicated to Marcel Mule. The apt orchestration is by Hunter Ewen. While Bozza cannot quite match his likely models, the Ravel and Fauré Pavanes, this is certainly an agreeable and moodily pleasing piece.

David Morgan (not the same David Morgan whose Contrasts recently featured on Lyrita), based at Youngstown University, writes for both the jazz and classical worlds. The triptych that is the Three Vignettes was written specially for Greg Banaszak. The first vignette is The Secret of the Golden Flower and moves without effort between Vaughan Williams and an Oriental sway: fast, punchy and meditative. Consolation has the contours of a primitive church hymn moving through a mist of melancholy. The final First Light makes play with Latin-American dance. Elements of rumba and tango are married to 1950s-style commercial sophisticated light music. Morgan's writing is delicate and luminously orchestrated. An undemanding delight.

The Hovhaness concerto was written for the New England Conservatory, then performed once by the Chatauqua Symphony and forgotten. The composer's widow assures us that like many works of its vintage the solo line was written with her high coloratura voice in mind. This seems completely plausible and by all means listen to the later Poseidon CDs for further proof. The three movement concerto pleases with its high sinuous solo line and breathing string figuration. The second movement is a surprise: its instrumental solo melody suggests sentimental British music-hall rather than Eastern esoterica. The composer also draws here on a dashing Mozartian effervescence which only once reconnects with Hovhaness's core lingua franca. The finale carries the archetypical title Let the Living and the Celestial Sing. It returns us to the composer's 'campground' with delicate pizzicati, great wheeling yet grounded angelic paeans and sinuous foregrounded solos. These are lent airy movement by surprising interactions with the warm string choir. Intriguingly, even in this last movement, Hovhaness admits elements of sentimentality to interact with the devotional.

The helpful notes are by Dr Myron Schwager and provide us with pretty well everything we want to know about this music. It's a shame we don't get birth years for some of the composers and dates of some of the compositions. Also regrettable are persistent little errors such as Hovhannes for Hovhaness and Rubenstein for Rubinstein. These are small flies in the ointment in what is a pleasingly consistent collection for those wanting melodic tonal music for saxophone and orchestra.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

Includes concerto(s) for viola by Darius Milhaud. Ensemble: Luxembourg Radio/Television Symphony Orchestra. Conductor: Darius Milhaud. Soloist: Ulrich Koch (Viola).

MESSIAEN: Eclairs sur l'Au-dela (Illuminations of the Beyond

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

Braithwaite’s engaging Holst proves well worth the wait

Nicholas Braithwaite’s effervescent 1980 account of the winsome Suite de ballet sounded stunning on black disc and continues to do so on silver (Decca’s peerless Kenneth Wilkinson was the balance engineer; the sumptuous acoustic is that of Kingsway Hall). All else is new to the catalogue. The three suites were set down in Watford Town Hall during summer 1993, while the Walt Whitman Overture was taped in the same venue in January 1988. The mind boggles at how performances and recordings of such superior quality can have remained mothballed for so long.

Holst composed the Overture and Suite de ballet during 1899 while on tour as repetiteur and trombonist with the Carl Rosa Opera Company. In neither will you glimpse any vestige of the mature composer (the overture doffs its hat to Brahms) but both parade a host of felicities and are given with palpable dedication here. Gordon Jacob made these skilful and sympathetic orchestrations of Holst’s two military-band suites in 1940 and 1945 (with No 2 renamed the Hampshire Suite – the majority of the folksongs it quotes hail from that county). Under Boult, No 1’s March bowls along with the greater unbuttoned panache, but there’s not much in it.

Commissioned as a test piece for the 1928 National Brass Band Festival, A Moorside Suite has long been a personal favourite (don’t deprive yourself of hearing the Grimethorpe Colliery Band’s unforgettable 1977 Decca recording, 3/86 – nla). Jacob’s affectionate reworking followed in 1952, and Braithwaite and the LPO relish its many deft touches. (On two copies I’ve tried there’s a tiny electronic-sounding blip at 3'04" in the haunting central Nocturne.) Attractively presented (the lucid and detailed booklet-essay is, curiously, uncredited), this release makes consistently enjoyable listening.

-- Andrew Achenbach, Gramophone [5/2007]

Kalinnikov: Symphony No. 1 - Glazunov: The Sea, Op. 28 - Spr

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

The distinctive point about Ormandy's version of the Midsummer Night's Dream music is that the vocal sections are given in German. On the sleeve the producer notes the significant point that in the Schlegel-Tieck translation "You spotted snakes" becomes "Bunte Schlartgen", and that Mendelssohn wrote it with two quavers instead of quaver plus two semi-quavers at the beginning of the phrase. It was for a Berlin performance that Mendelssohn wrote his extra incidental music, and therefore there is an historic case, too, for preferring Schlegel-Tieck to Shakespeare... [W]ith finely disciplined playing from the Philadelphians, Ormandy is a fraction heavier [than Previn and Leppard], less playful, but the discrepancy is slight, and with such glorious sound recorded fully and richly with plenty of inner detail, no one will feel disappointed... Both Previn and Leppard include even the briefest melodramas, where Ormandy omits three of them (No. 4 before the Intermezzo, No. 10 before the ironic "Funeral March" and No. 12 before the finale, all of them very brief). The last one consists of a fragment of the "Wedding March" fading into the distance to be followed by fairy music, and I am sorry to lose it. Instead Ormandy opts to transpose the Melodrama No. 8 to that point with a fragment of the "Nocturne" plus a radiant violin descant.

The casual listener may well not register any of these details, and certainly the Ormandy record, beautifully played and recorded, can be confidently recommended...

-- Edward Greenfield, Gramophone [6/1978, reviewing the original LP release of the Mendelssohn]

Classical Music

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

Beethoven expended little effort over arranging his Violin Concerto for piano. He left the orchestration intact, reproduced the solo part more or less verbatim, and added just enough left-hand accompaniment to keep the soloist interested. Although he didn't provide cadenzas for the violinist, Beethoven left the pianist four from which to choose, including a wild fantasia that culminates in petulant exchanges between piano and timpani. Perhaps this concoction always will remain a curio, yet a few recent recordings elevate Op. 61a to a genuine work of stature--most notably the stylish, virile, and committed Suk/Baley (TNC) and Berezovsky/Dausgaard (Simax). So does this remarkable 1969 Peter Serkin/Seiji Ozawa collaboration, but in a completely different manner.

They consistently emphasize breadth and lyricism, and justify their uncommonly slow first-movement tempo by virtue of focused, impeccably accented phrasing that is rhythmically precise yet so vibrant and full-bodied that nothing ever sounds static or rigid. Certainly the robust sonics help, along with the New Philharmonia Orchestra's warm, responsive, and songful execution. It's all too easy for a pianist to reduce the sparse piano writing to surface tinkling, yet even Serkin's most delicate nuances and rounded cadences convey firmness and a sure sense of direction--all the more reason to welcome ArkivMusic.com's on-demand reissue of this long overlooked and underrated recording in a rare Japanese RCA reprint. You can obtain it coupled with the Serkin/Ozawa Schoenberg Piano Concerto, or as here: alongside the pianist's sparkling, cultured, and wittily nuanced Mozart F major K. 459 concerto, featuring like-minded support from the English Chamber Orchestra under Alexander Schneider's shapely and sensitive direction. Booklet notes are in Japanese only, but given such revelatory music making, who cares?

--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com