This second release from young Czech conductor Jakub Hrusa is definitely better than his first one. The Prague Philharmonia is very much a chamber orchestra, and so you won't find the weight that, say, Dorati brings to the American Suite (Decca) or Belohlávek enjoys in the splendidly evocative Fantastic Scherzo (Chandos). But aside from the second movement of the Dvorák, which really needs a sharper attack, there's no lack of energy--and there's plenty of attractive detail (particularly in the wind parts) that often goes unnoticed in performances with larger ensembles. Still, I'm not giving up the power and luxurious color of my big-orchestra versions anytime soon.

Indeed, the Suk Serenade is extremely beautiful as well as unusually lively. Despite its appealing lyricism and melodic charm it's a tough piece to bring off. With its sequence of moderately paced inner movements, monotony is an ever-present threat, even in versions coming from Czech performers. Hrusa characterizes the work quite effectively, with the necessary lightness as well as rhythmic point. The program also has been very intelligently chosen: none of these pieces is that familiar, but all are very beautiful and worth hearing, so this disc may well fill a gap in many Czech music collections. Warm, well-balanced sound completes this recommendable package.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

RAVEL Daphnis et Chloé: Suite No. 2. STRAVINSKY Le Sacre du printemps. HONEGGER Symphony No. 5, “Di Tre Re” • Igor Markevitch, cond; RIAS SO • AUDITE 95605 (73:15) Live: Berlin 1952


Igor Markevitch (1912–83) was born in Kiev into a family of Ukrainian, French, and Italian lineage. At 14, living with his family in Switzerland, the teenaged Markevitch was discovered by Alfred Cortot, who took the boy with him to Paris and enrolled him in the Ecole Normale. It was there that he trained under Cortot and Nadia Boulanger for a career as a pianist and composer. His first break in the latter capacity came in 1929, when the 17-year-old was commissioned by Serge Diaghilev to write a piano concerto and to collaborate on a ballet. The ballet project came to naught when Diaghilev died later that year, but the young Markevitch completed the concerto, which was subsequently published by Schott.


For the next dozen years, between 1929 and 1941, Markevitch dedicated himself to composing, averaging two works per year in a variety of musical genres and forms. But after the onset of a serious illness late in 1941, he decided to abandon his career as a composer and turned his attention to conducting. He was not, however, a neophyte to the order, as this sudden occupational change might suggest. He had made his conducting debut at the age of 18 leading the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra; in subsequent appearances with various ensembles, he had already distinguished himself as a recognized exponent of French, Russian, and 20th-century repertoire. As a point of passing interest, it might be mentioned that the conductor Oleg Caetani—currently director of the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra—is Markevitch’s son by his second wife, Donna Topazia Caetani, herself a distant descendant of the Roman family of 14th-century Pope Boniface VII.


Markevitch’s discography is by no means negligible, but unlike those of other more widely celebrated media darlings (the roughly contemporaneous Karajan comes to mind), his recordings have yet to be cataloged and collected together systematically in a way that makes it easy to grasp the full measure of his contribution. Record labels devoted to restoring historical material, such as Archipel, Tahra, Testament, and Urania, have made a few random stabs at it, but the fact remains that Markevitch’s recordings are scattered far and wide, and some, still available only on LPs selling for eye-popping prices, are difficult to come by, assuming you can afford them. I found, for example, a vinyl copy of what claimed to be a 1955 Rite of Spring with the Philharmonia on an RCA Red Seal LP posted on eBay for an asking price of $145.99. Curiously, this is the only reference I’ve come across to a 1955 Rite , and one to boot on RCA. I’m guessing it was originally pressed in the U.K. by HMV, and I suspect that the actual recording is the 1952 version, 1955 probably being the date of the RCA pressing. What do these eBay sellers know?


Markevitch did make commercial recordings of all three of the works on this disc, in some cases more than once. In 1954, he recorded the Ravel with the Philharmonia; with the same orchestra he led The Rite of Spring twice, in mono in 1952 and in a stereo remake in 1959. Yet another late recording of the Stravinsky with the Suisse Romande Orchestra dates from 1982, one year before the conductor’s death. And for Deutsche Grammophon, in 1950s mono, he recorded Honegger’s Symphony No. 5 with the Lamoureux Orchestra. To the best of my knowledge, all of these are now, or at one time have been, available on CD.


Like another, slightly earlier conductor I can think of, Dimitri Mitropoulos , Igor Markevitch is, I believe, vastly underrated. The recording at hand, however, should go several miles toward boosting his reputation. To begin with, whatever audio engineer Ludger Böckenhoff and the Audite team have done to remaster the original source material, it qualifies as a latter-day miracle. The sound on this disc—its dynamic range, frequency response, and depth of stage—is simply phenomenal. At nine seconds into the Rite of Spring’ s “Dances of the Young Girls,” for instance, a cross-rhythm pops out in the bassoon that I don’t believe I’ve ever heard before, even in the latest state-of-the-art SACD recordings.


But let’s not shortchange Markevitch’s role in this. His take on Stravinsky’s still shocking pagan ritual is bracing and determinedly defiant. In his hands, the composer’s score is not one for the lithe, acrobatically inclined danseur, but for the toned, hard-bodied gymnast. For Markevitch, it’s all about the interplay of complex, unyielding rhythms and sudden, explosive gamma ray bursts. The ear-shattering blast that introduces the “Ritual of Abduction” gave me a real start; it was like a Molotov cocktail being lobbed through a plate glass window. Not for Markevitch the toning down or smoothing out of Stravinsky’s heinous hosanna to the cult of ritualistic human sacrifice, a kind of musical prequel, if you will, to Shirley Jackson’s 1948 short story The Lottery . Interestingly, that story stirred up as much outrage as had Stravinsky’s Rite 35 years earlier. The music is a study in primitivism; it should, and was meant to, sound barbaric. Too many modern recordings I’ve heard, like a recent and highly touted one by Jonathan Nott and the Bamberg Symphony Orchestra on Tudor, transform the score into something gentrified, as if it has now earned a place in the orchestral canon alongside Mozart and Haydn. Markevitch had it right, and he delivers the goods on this recording in one of the most heart-pounding performances of The Rite of Spring you will ever hear.


Ravel’s Daphnis et Chloé too was one of the conductor’s specialties, and just as sensationalized as his portrayal of Stravinsky’s tribal blood-letting is, with equal artistry does Markevitch sensualize Ravel’s French goatherd and shepherdess. No gauzy Impressionistic veil can conceal the amorous passion and sexual tension between the two lovers, whose shyness and innocence are eventually overcome by the chemistry of raging hormones in Markevitch’s pitch-perfect performance.


I was rather surprised to find no reviews of Honegger’s Symphony No. 5, subtitled “Di Tre Re,” in the Fanfare Archive. It’s one of the composer’s more widely recorded works, with a number of fine versions available, including classics by Michel Plasson and Charles Munch. The current live recording with Markevitch is in direct competition with the aforementioned slightly later but still mono Markevitch effort with the Lamoureux Orchestra on Deutsche Grammophon. Unfortunately, I do not have that recording for comparison purposes, but I can tell you that the one at hand is every bit as good, performance-wise, interpretively, and sonically as the Munch with the Boston Symphony Orchestra on RCA, which I do have, and better performance-wise and interpretively, if not quite as sonically wide-spectrum, as the Neeme Järvi with the Danish National Radio Symphony Orchestra on Chandos, which I also have. The piece is worth getting to know, if you don’t already know it. It’s quite a magnificent score (the “tre re” refers to the three Ds struck on the timpani at the end of each movement), and Markevitch’s reading is deeply satisfying.


More often than not, I end up recommending releases of archival recordings such as this mainly to those who have a particular interest in the conductor or featured artist, but this one is different. The performances are fantastic, and the sound is as good as, if not better than, any number of newly minted recordings I’ve heard. This is an urgent buy recommendation.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

A unique and symbolic encounter: the most distinguished Czech conductor of the present time and a fabulous British orchestra communicate the profound messages in the works of great national composers.

Classical Music

Classical Music

These performances always have been famous and highly regarded, rightly so. František Maxián opts for the traditional Kurtz edition of the solo part in the Piano Concerto, a version happily on its way to being sidelined in favor of Dvorák's original, but he plays it very well, and of course Talich's accompaniments are marvelous. The real draw, though, is the Cello Concerto with the young Rostropovich, his tone a touch more raw than it would later become (especially in his gorgeous remake under Ozawa on Erato), but splendidly passionate and spontaneous. Best of all, the sonics have been marvelously restored: the cello concerto in particular sounds stunningly vivid and present, despite the 1952 mono technology. Even if you already own these performances, you haven't heard them spring to life as vibrantly as they do in this beautifully packaged new remastering. Essential! [10/11/2005]--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Tomáš Netopil, winner of the Sir Georg Solti International Conducting Competition and a regular guest of leading orchestras and prestigious opera stages worldwide, has materialized his singular vision of Janáček’s symphonic music in this recording with the splendid Czech Radio Symphony Orchestra.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Arthur Sullivan's music for The Tempest reveals the 19-year-old as a serious talent. Yes, the music owes something to Mendelssohn--the Prelude, particularly, takes a few major hints from the Fingal's Cave Overture. But the melodic inspiration is fresh, the orchestration vivid, the dance music aptly toe-tapping, and the brief postlude curiously moving in a way that actually anticipates the more reflective moments of the Sibelius that follows. Coupling these two works, one a barely known first orchestral essay, the other a late but still curiously neglected masterpiece, was a brilliant idea--a "concept" album that really makes good musical sense.

The playing order of the Sibelius also is very intelligent: Prelude (Storm), Suite No. 2, then Suite No. 1, which ends with a reprise of the Prelude's storm music. Happily, both here and in the Sullivan, the performances are as smart, atmospheric, and vibrant as the music itself. Caliban's Song and the storm episodes have impressive power, and they're stunningly recorded in vintage Reference Recordings fashion. The more lyrical moments, such as the Berceuse and the various song transcriptions, are all beautifully played by the Kansas orchestra. The wind soloists are uniformly fine (listen to the flute in The Oak Tree, from Suite No. 1), and the harp, so important to the music's "magic" elements, is wonderfully present without ever sounding spotlit. Only "Miranda" from Suite No. 2 sounds a touch edgy in the violins, the tempo slightly rushed. This and any other minor quibbles certainly aren't enough to prevent me from recommending this new release in the strongest possible terms. It's a winner in all respects.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Franz Xaver Richter’s origins are associated with Moravia, but his working life was anything but parochial. Skills acquired in Vienna and Italy raised his employability and saw him engaged in several palaces in Germany in the 1730s and 1740s. He is known to have travelled widely before becoming Kapellmeister of the Notre-Dame Cathedral in Strasbourg, dying just before the French Revolution saw the abolition of those ancient institutions in which he had worked for decades.

The mixture of styles in Richter’s work can be heard throughout this programme, from the Pergolesi-like opening of the Synfonia and use of orchestral sonorities from Mannheim to the operatic virtuosity of his vocal writing. Superb playing from the Czech Ensemble Baroque delivers a purity of sound which is pretty much the ideal for our idea of how this music should have sounded in the 18th century – it would certainly he hard to imagine the composer having much to complain about.

The Synfonia con fuga is assumed to come from Richter’s time in Mannheim, and as a ‘church sinfonia’ in everything but name its inclusion here suits very well indeed. The work is more than just a filler, with its vibrant inventiveness and colourful sequences it goes beyond galant frippery while stopping short of C.P.E. Bach’s striking waywardness.

Both De Profundis and the Messa de Requiem are from Richter’s 20-year tenure in Strasbourg, and both works are highly representative of the opulence possible during one of the most significant periods in the cities history. His church ensemble was at that time the second largest in France, and the richness in sound from these works is very fine indeed. Psalm 129, De Profundis clamavi was commissioned for funeral masses, and the symbolism of its C minor key of mourning, resolving finally into a more hopeful C major in the final Requiem aeternam are just two elements in an impressive and often highly expressive work.

The Messa de Requiem was reportedly composed for the composer’s own funeral, and the booklet notes open with a quote from Christian Friedrich Schubart, describing how Richter passed away with the score in his hand. This may or may not be true, but we can hardly disagree with the claim that it “encapsulates the quintessence of his legacy.” With added trumpets and timpani this is the kind of larger scale requiem which it is not hard to imagine in a line leading towards the grand examples by the likes of Verdi. Set pieces such as the operatic soprano solo Quid sum miser and dramatic Confutatis maledictis of the Dies irae are innovative sounding in this context, and the work’s transitional feel is heightened by their contrast with more antique contrapuntal music which Richter took from Johann Joseph Fux much earlier in his career and held onto throughout.

This is a substantial Requiem, and within its high-Classical idiom has plenty of heartfelt and beautifully poignant moments. The power of the work is rendered with the utmost refinement and musicality by all concerned, with all soloists very strong, and soprano Lenka Cafourková ?uricová deserving of mention as the topping to a very unified and superbly balanced musical cake. Supraphon has made this into nicely presented release, the booklet containing all Latin texts and translations into English, German, French and Czech. If seeking beyond the more familiar choral music of Haydn and Mozart results in unearthing these kinds of glories I for one would welcome digging ever deeper into the archives of the obscure and unpublished.

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

The American Born Cellist Zuzanna Szambelan Began Her Music Education in Piano in Poznan? at Age Five. A Year Later, She Also Began Cello Studies. The List of Her Award Wins Notably Includes the Special Award at the 18th Int'l Johannes Brahms Competition in Portschach (Austria, 2011) and a First Prize at the 8th Int'l Kazimierz Wi Komirski Competition in Poznan. Ms. Szambelan Is Presently a Student at the Hochschule Fu R Musik Hanns Eisler in Berlin. She's Heard Here in Dvorack's Cello Concerto, Op. 104 and Smetana's the Moldau from His Magnum Opus Ma Vlast.

These performances still sound as fresh and lively as any available. The first movement of the Eighth in particular has striking vitality, and Talich's characterful treatment of the finale, which waits until the coda before really taking off, continues to serve as a model of how the music can be played most effectively. The New World Symphony has similar passion and fire, and a Largo to die for, though in this work there's very strong competition from Ancerl on this same label, in very good stereo. Throughout both performances the playing of the Czech Philharmonic is, as expected, magnificently idiomatic, and the early 1950s mono recordings sound perfectly fine in these latest transfers, perhaps a bit brighter than in their previous incarnation. If for some reason you don't know these performances, then by all means get this latest release, and treasure it.

--David Hurwitz

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

FERENC FARKAS: DANUBE VALLEY G

Krúdy: Madame Louise délutánjai - Utolsó szivar az Arabs Szü

PARTOS: Viola Concerto No. 1 / Violin Concerto / Shiluvim (F

The “Wanderer Fantasy” is the theoretical starting point and crowning work of this recording, which, however, also thoughtfully looks at the atmospherically light side of Romantic wandering. The program thus firmly leads from the famous wanderer of the educated classes, Felix Mendelssohn, and his journey through Scotland to colorful musical atmospheric images by composers from Liszt to Debussy. They tell of forests, the world of gnomes and sprites, and of fantastical and exotic dances. Venetian gondola songs then segue from dry land onto the water and guide us on the winding bends of the 'Grand Canal' all the way to the 'L’Isle joyeuse', that island of joy regarded as the kingdom of love and bliss. Concerts in Germany and abroad have always earned the young German pianist Jamina Gerl excellent reviews from professional critics. For instance, the press in New York declared her orchestral debut performance of Rachmaninoff’s Third Piano Concerto “a triumph for all concerned,” christening Gerl “a lioness of the keyboard.” In addition to her versatile concert programs, she is often praised for her poetically inspired piano playing, remarkable virtuosity and richly shaded, differentiated expression. Concerts and numerous competition triumphs resulted in her appearing in such prestigious venues as Carnegie Hall and the Steinway Hall in New York, the Beethoven Haus Chamber Music Hall, the Illsley Ball Nordstrom Recital Hall, Mannes College Concert Hall, Tonhalle Dusseldorf and Munetsugu Hall Nagoya.

Claudio Abbado (1933–2014) was one of the outstanding personalities in the history of the Berliner Philharmoniker. In May 2013, their unique partnership ended with Abbado’s last concert with the orchestra. The program included two of the most important works of musical Romanticism: Hector Berlioz’s visionary Symphonie fantastique and Felix Mendelssohn’s magical, shimmering music for A Midsummer Night’s Dream. To mark the second anniversary of Claudio Abbado’s death on 20 January 2016, audio and video recordings of this memorable evening see release in this hardcover luxury edition. With comprehensive articles, bonus videos and previously unpublished photographs, it documents Abbado’s work with the orchestra whose chief conductor he was from 1990 to 2002.

The recordings impressively convey the special atmosphere of the evening: the great affection the orchestra and the audience had for Claudio Abbado – and of course the enthusiasm for the musical performances. Renowned not least for his clever concert programming, Abbado combined two works here that deal with the theme of dreams in music in very different ways: Mendelssohn’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream conveys the multifaceted magical atmosphere of Shakespeare’s original, while Berlioz uses modern means to tell his delirious tale of fateful love and drug-induced hallucinations. Abbado’s performance brings out the full splendor of these scores. It is – as the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung wrote – a “wonder, the freedom and youthful-like spirit with which the soon to be octogenarian expends himself, which he radiates and which he presents to his audience from the conductor’s stand.”

The edition contains the recordings on CD and in high resolution audio on a Blu-ray disc which also features a video of the concert. The bonus material includes a historical documentary about Abbado’s first year as chief conductor of the Berliner Philharmoniker.

Concert video:
HD recording of the entire concert

Bonus videos:
Documentary: “Abbado in Berlin – The First Year”
Members of the Berliner Philharmoniker remember Claudio Abbado

Shattering, unforgettable Shostakovich.

An early performer likened the effect of Shostakovich’s opera The Nose to ‘an anarchist’s grenade’, a description that could just as easily be applied to the Fourth Symphony, written eight years later. The latter’s a hugely talented piece and the seedbed for much that was to take hold and germinate in the composer’s later works. But it’s more than that; in the right hands it’s Shostakovich’s most uncompromising and subversive symphony. Remember, the finale of the Fourth was completed in the immediate aftermath of Stalin’s infamous Pravda article, with all the personal and artistic turmoil that brought with it.
 
Among the most penetrating versions of this symphony on CD are Kiril Kondrashin’s on Melodiya, Gennadi Rozhdestvensky’s Czech radio broadcast from 1985, Neeme Järvi’s for Chandos and, most recently, Mark Wigglesworth’s for BIS. There’s some dispute about the exact provenance of the Rozhdestvensky, but absolutely no doubt about his excoriating performance. Hard to beat, I thought, until Wigglesworth burst on the scene. In many ways this was the Fourth I’d been waiting for, combining as it does the visceral elements of Rozhdestvensky and Kondrashin with an implacable strength and clarity of vision that’s just astounding. Indeed, it was one of my picks for 2010, and a reading I was sure could not be improved upon.
 
Enter Daniel Raiskin, the up-and-coming maestro from St. Petersburg and, since 2005, the chief conductor of the Staatsorchester Rheinische Philharmonie. Lest one is tempted to write off these provincial bands, remember Wigglesworth’s Dutch radio orchestra play Shostakovich as if to the manner born. Factor in a top-notch hybrid recording from BIS and you’ll understand why these newcomers elicited polite interest rather than outright enthusiasm when the disc was offered for review.
 
Well, seconds into the Allegretto and any such doubts are thrust aside by the most lacerating introduction to this symphony I’ve ever encountered. The shrieking strings, chatter of woodwinds and bone-crushing contributions from the percussionists simply beggars belief. It’s not just about heft, for the alarums and excursions that ensue are every bit as gripping, Raiskin extorting exceptional, razor-sharp attack from his players. Wigglesworth is broader and there’s much more air around the notes, but the Russian’s reading – and Avi’s close recording – are alive with detail and arcing with unrelieved electricity.
 
Shostakovich’s strange ditties and diversions are all uncovered with forensic skill, the orchestra responding to this wild music with remarkable assurance. Raiskin never allows the pace to flag and the climaxes – judiciously scaled – are staggering in both breadth and intensity. As for those Mahlerian crescendi, they’ve seldom sounded so menacing, the timps so brutal. One really is in the front row of the stalls here, and there’s no escape from the withering fire. Even Shostakovich’s more spectral writing is as revealing as an x-ray image, the yearning strings most beautifully caught. But it’s Raiskin’s strong, steady pulse that holds all these disparate elements together, the music utterly compelling throughout.
 
And how winningly he phrases the opening of the Moderato. That said, Raiskin brings something of Bartók’s nervous energy – and colour - to the score. There’s a pleasing sense of proportion as well, all those sardonic asides voiced with as much care and attention as the symphony’s more spectacular outbursts. No apologies need be made for the fact that this is a live recording, made over two nights and in different venues; detail is abundant, perspectives are consistent, and the audiences are very quiet indeed.
 
The Largo – Allegro has a pronounced Mahlerian cast, the opening cortege played with splendid character and weight. It’s those gaunt little tunes that bubble up and then subside that give this movement its abiding strangeness, that first peroration as anguished as I’ve ever heard it. This really is a Lubyanka-like edifice of dread and despair, as dark as anything Shostakovich ever wrote, and Raiskin wrings the most individual sonorities from his players. Not only that, he builds tension like few others, that crazed march underpinned by the truly explosive thud of timps and crowned with fevered brass.
 
In a work littered with frigid interludes this movement has more than its fair share of chill-inducing moments, with Shostakovich passing uneasily between cold terror and grim comedy. As for that lampooning brass, it’s superbly managed, the Mahlerian scurry beneath it deftly done. And all the while Raiskin maintains a mesmeric tension, so that when that cataclysm finally arrives it’s been well prepared. Goodness, this is a scream like no other in the symphonic repertoire, the Avi engineers drawing out every last, incandescent detail and decibel. But it’s the haunted postlude that’s really terrifying; this is truly a blasted heath, a no-man’s land of unimaginable bleakness. As compelling as Wigglesworth is at this point, Raiskin distils something quite extraordinary from the notes. The ghostly shimmer of the celesta is indescribably moving.
 
Having emptied the cupboard of superlatives, all I can say is that Daniel Raiskin is a man to watch. Like that anarchist’s ordnance, he’s blown away every shred of smugness and complacency I felt before hearing this phenomenal performance.
 
Shattering, unforgettable Shostakovich.
 
-- Dan Morgan, MusicWeb International