Emma Johnson is one of the few clarinetists to have established a busy career as a solo performer which has taken her to major European, American and Asian venues as well as to Africa and Australasia. She is one of the UK’s biggest selling classical artists, having sold over half a million albums worldwide. Her recent recording of sonatas by Brahms and Mendelssohn with John Leneham was described as definitive and triumphant. “The great thing about the clarinet is it can take you anywhere- any country, any style, any era- and accordingly Clarinet Goes To Town journeys from Brazil to China encompassing styles from Classical to jazz. It’s basically me letting my hair down with my favorite musicians in party pieces we’ve honed in concert over the past few years.” (Emma Johnson)

Gustav Holst’s youthful enthusiasm for Wagner is reflected in his ebullient Walt Whitman overture written in 1899. Shortly afterwards he composed the Cotswolds Symphony which embraces hints of contemporary British folk music but is dominated by the slow movement, a profound elegy for the utopian socialist William Morris. Though completed at college, A Winter Idyll shows real orchestral assurance. Indra is an accomplished tone poem revealing Holst’s interest in the legends of India, whilst the glittering and evocative Japanese Suite was written in response to a request from a Japanese dancer appearing in London. The Ulster Orchestra is one of Northern Ireland’s cultural cornerstones and since its foundation in 1966 has become one of the major symphony orchestras in the United Kingdom and Ireland. JoAnn Falletta was appointed Principal Conductor in May 2011, the orchestra’s twelfth but first female and first American to be appointed to the post.

REVIEW:

All of this music is early with the exception of the Japanese Suite, and all of it has appeared on CD before, most notably (with the exception of the symphony) on the superb series of Holst discs issued over the years by Lyrita with such luminaries as Adrian Boult, David Atherton, and Nicholas Braithwaite at the helm. I would never want to part with those three Lyrita discs, but I find this new Naxos disc just as satisfying, and Falletta’s generally more inward, reflective style offers new insights. That it contains a performance of Holst’s only completed orchestral symphony, which gives the work new stature, only adds to its value as an addition to a discography understandably, but regrettably, dominated by one magnificent work. While only one of these works qualifies as a mature composition in a distinctive voice, even the student-written A Winter Idyll shows its composer in a good light, and proves that while fame may have eluded him until midlife, it was not for lack of talent or skill.

A Winter Idyll, the Walt Whitman Overture, and the “Cotswolds” Symphony, all effectively apprentice works written between 1897 and 1900, owe much to the example of the great German Romantics. The influence of Mendelssohn and Schumann in particular should not be surprising given Holst’s then-recent tutelage by Stanford and Parry at the Royal College of Music. And even a casual listener to the symphony will be able to guess that Holst was then much taken with Wagner. What is notable, however, is just how effectively he has already incorporated these voices into one of his own, albeit one less individual than that of the composer of The Planets, or Egdon Heath, or even Beni Mori of but a few years hence.

The symphony has had one previous recording on Classico with Douglas Bostock conducting. It is still available on other reissue labels, but Falletta’s performance improves on the earlier effort in every way. Tighter and weightier than Bostock in the main—though the scherzo is engagingly quicksilver—she convinces one that the symphony is much more than just a frame for the moving elegy for socialist visionary William Morris that comprises the second movement. Falletta similarly finds new depth in the transitional symphonic poem Indra (1903), emphasizing atmosphere and warmth where the alternative reading by Atherton inclines more toward brilliance and contrast.

The Japanese Suite is the one work here that is representative of the mature Holst, to the extent that any work can be said to represent a composer who notoriously hated to repeat himself. It reflects his developing interests in things Asian, and in folk music, and it shows him free of the old-school German romantic model. It was written in 1915 in response to a commission from Japanese dancer Michio Ito for a London recital, and so is exactly contemporaneous with The Planets. In fact, Holst stopped work on the larger suite to write the smaller one, and many ideas found in the former are adapted to the scale and delicacy of this attractive work that has been unfairly overshadowed by its bigger and more flamboyant sibling.

Its neglect may to some degree reflect the challenge it offers the conductor. Neither Falletta nor Andrew Davis in the other currently available recording on Chandos can match the character of Boult’s recording on Lyrita. More than either, Boult and the late-’60s London Symphony Orchestra bring out, through canny pacing, phrasing, and articulation of these haunting ancient tunes, the Japanese flavor Ito sought in this work. Falletta’s performance is still wonderfully sensitive and perfectly scaled, but here I must register my one clear preference for an alternative.

That said, clearly there is some good chemistry going in Ulster between its fine orchestra and the new American principal conductor. One can only hope that there will be many more releases like this in the future, and in the superb sound provided by the Grammy-winning producer and engineer, Tim Handley and Phil Rowlands. Definitely a winner.

FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames

Like her previous album for Cedille, which paired concertos by Brahms and Joachim, everything about this release by violinist Rachel Barton Pine is exceptional, from the selection of couplings to the performances themselves. In the first place, it's wonderful to see a program built around concert pieces for violin and orchestra based on Scottish themes, since this permits a new view of an old chestnut and some welcome attention given to worthy but neglected repertoire. The chestnut in question is Max Bruch's Scottish Fantasy, a marvelous work seldom played or recorded today, but one that is more substantial in length and in may ways more imaginative in content than the ever-popular Violin Concerto No. 1, with which it is sometimes mated on disc.


For this performance, Barton Pine has consulted Scottish fiddler and folk-music authority Alasdair Fraser for some stylistic pointers on an authentic inflection of the tunes that Bruch borrowed for his work. The result is a tastefully ornamented solo line, most obviously in the slower music (check out the opening of the third-movement Andante sostenuto). This is not, I hasten to add, a case of tarting up the music in a garish or unidiomatic fashion. On the contrary, Barton Pine is acutely sensitive to Bruch's actual text, paying particularly close attention to dynamics and articulation (her soft playing in both the opening adagio and the andante is exquisite). The addition of some melodic turns and grace notes simply enhances the natural expressiveness of the melodies themselves, a quality heightened by Barton Pine's smooth, singing tone.


In rapid passages, her technique is perfectly secure, with multiple stops and octaves always in tune, and her sensitivity to the what is happening in the orchestra is second to none. The charming duet between violin and flute in the scherzo, for example, seldom has sounded better balanced or more effortless. The violinist is helped considerably by the excellent accompaniments provided by the Scottish Chamber Orchestra under Alexander Platt, which are notably refined and transparent but also offer plenty of the necessary rhythmic energy where called for (and to be honest, Bruch doesn't ask for much--it's mostly a gentle, lyrical piece).


The proceedings take on a bit more earthy vigor in the couplings. Mackenzie's Pibroch Suite is a marvelous and very substantial work (23 minutes) that ought to be better known. It has been recorded before, most recently by Hyperion, in a fine performance that Barton Pine betters by a slim margin, finding a bit more poetry in the opening Rhapsody and digging in for some extra character in the marvelous concluding Dance. McEwen's Scottish Rhapsody "Prince Charlie" evidently is new to CD, and it's equally enjoyable. What a pity that some enterprising violinist doesn't make a live program of some of the excellent short works for violin and orchestra that seem to exist these days only on disc! Sarasate's Airs ecossais is another gem whose technical fireworks Barton Pine handles with aplomb.


Closing out the disc is a Medley of Scots Tunes, selected and arranged for dueling violinists by Barton Pine and Fraser and expertly scored for orchestra by Barton Pine alone. The melodies, as might be expected, are wholly delightful, and the performance absolutely brilliant, bringing the program to a rousing conclusion. All together, you get more than 80 minutes of music on two CDs for the price of one, including a video documentary on how the project came together. I did not watch it, as the quality of the music-making speaks for itself, but others may be more interested in the visual element than I am. In sum, this collaboration between Barton Pine, Fraser, Platt, and the SCO is a triumph on all counts, a model of what a themed release ought to be, and it's all captured in demonstration-quality sound by Cedille's engineers. Without a doubt, this is one of the smartest and most purely lovable releases of the year. [7/16/2005]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Fernando Lopes-Graça was one of the most prolific Portuguese composers of the 20th century. His use of Portuguese folk-music to forge a personal style is represented in the Suite Rústica No 1. More sombre moods are expressed in the dark atmosphere of December Poem, which contrasts with the extrovert Festival March. Neo-classical in its extended structures and thematic development, Lopes-Graça’s award-winning Symphony maintains an unmistakable connection with the colours and textures of his nation to create music of great expressive and dramatic depth.

BULL Sæterjentens Søndag . Violin Concerto in A. Concerto Fantastico in e. I Ensomme Stunde. La Verbena de San Juan. Et Sæterbesøg • Annar Follesø (vn); Ole Kristian Ruud, cond; Norwegian RO • 2L 67 (Blu-ray audio: 69:21)


& SACD


Tall, preternaturally handsome Ole Bull captured the fancy of concertgoers in Europe, and in the United States as well. In fact, at a time when classical artists like Henri Vieuxtemps had trouble making inroads in the American hinterland (supposedly after an initially disappointing reception, he composed his first set of variations on Yankee Doodle ), Bull made immediate connections with his program of atmospheric, sentimental, and technically dazzling pieces that he had composed himself—and always with his audiences in mind. Nevertheless, as had Paganini, whom he idolized, before him, he proved himself able to win the admiration of first-rank composers. The opening work on this program, Sæterjentens Søndag (The Herd Girl’s Sunday Morning), represents just such a simple song, one that must (and seems calculated to) have drawn an admiring tear from his listeners. Annar Follesø gives an appropriately sensitive and atmospheric account of it (with the accompaniment arranged for orchestra by Johan Svendsen), along with Ole Kristian Ruud and the Norwegian Radio Orchestra. The two concertos, recently discovered, represent the more virtuosic side of Bull’s personality. The first, in A Major, opens with a long and symphonically conceived tutti, with some of the quieter passages sensitively orchestrated. The soloist enters with a showy cadenza that must have been in part just what Bull’s audiences wanted—and even expected. The writing for violin sounds like a (derivative?) mix of Paganini’s pyrotechnical wizardry and De Bériot’s suave tunefulness. Still, many listeners may doubt that Bull has integrated his thematic materials as successfully (or at least consistently) into the passagework as did his contemporaries the Henris (Vieuxtemps and Wieniawski). But Follesø displays the natural virtuosic flair to play some of these seemingly aimless passages without retaining his tongue in his cheek, as well as an affinity for the concerto’s genial ethnic harmonic and melodic atmosphere. The brief slow movement also opens with an extended orchestral passage; but the soloist claims the limelight upon his entry in an affecting passage on the G string. The Rondo pastorale that brings the concerto to a close features thematic fireworks in double-stops, and while some of the later material grows almost maudlin, Bull always manages to hold his listeners’ interest.


The nominally programmatic Concerto fantastico (with movements representing night, dawn, and day) also begins with a long tutti and features even more flamboyant passagework, which Follesø plays with aplomb. As in Bull’s Concerto in A Major, the streamers seem to be stretched pretty thinly over their underlying framework. Once again, though, Follesø (and Ruud and the orchestra) play their roles without sounding smugly superior to the program. The slow movement, built on a simple, heartfelt tune, sounds affecting in the same way as did the other concerto’s corresponding movement. The finale, a short but intoxicating romp with lyrical pauses for breath, seems even more shrewdly calculated for effect than does the other concerto’s finale. Once again, Follesø provides a rollicking, technically dazzling account. I Ensomme Stunde (La Melancolie), here arranged by Johan Halvorsen and Wolfgang Plagge, offers Grieg-like fare like that in Sæterjentens Søndag . The more extended fantasy, La Verbena de San Juan , however, with its percussion-rich orchestration, sounds like a sort of Norwegian counterpart to Sarasate’s ethnic concoctions, although it seems to go a step further in local color. According to the notes, Bull wrote it for Queen Isabella of Spain upon the occasion of a tour in 1846. The queen, again according to the notes, enjoyed Bull’s music—and perhaps other attentions. According to the notes, Bull incorporated Sebastian Yradier’s Jota Aragonesa out of gratitude to that composer; audiences should recognize it. They should also recognize Sarasate’s whistling harmonics (also familiar from Paganini). And Bull, as did Sarasate, incorporated left-hand pizzicatos liberally in his works. Follesø is equal to the challenges both these techniques pose.


Et Sæterbesøg includes references to folk fiddling with drones that I’ve always associated with the Hardanger fiddle or at least its style. The notes relate that, coupled with the words to Sæterjentens Søndag, it’s become a part of Norway’s cultural heritage. For those inclined, as many have been, to dismiss Bull as a sort of musical charlatan, the lyrical outpouring in the song’s middle should invite at least a second look. Arve Tellefsen played a program of Bull’s music for violin and orchestra with Andrew Karsten and the Bergen Symphony Orchestra in 1988 (Norsk Kulturraå ds Klassikerserie 50008), including two works on Follesø’s, Et Sæterbesøg, I Ensomme Stunde , and the Adagio sostenuto from the Concerto fantastico . Tellefsen’s version of Et Sæterbesøg takes advantage of bells to enhance the mountain atmosphere, and his “Hardanger” sounds twangier, even if he doesn’t draw as deeply affecting a cantabile from its lyrical passages (or those of I Ensomme Stunde— though Tellefsen’s version of the concerto’s slow movement throbs with a warmer expressivity despite his edgier tone production).


The Blu-ray version (audio only), to which I listened (although I used the CD version of Follesø’s program in making the comparison with Tellefsen’s program), provides extraordinarily sharp definition, hardly losing clarity in the midst of a somewhat reverberant setting. Whether or not this medium will offer relief to listeners fatigued by the roughness of even the best CDs, in particular in recordings of violin tone, it represents an improvement over CDs, as did DVD-Audio, among formats dependent on high-storage media (the sound: 24 bit and at least 192 kHz, with a choice of 5.1 DTS HD, 7.1 DTS HD, or 2.0 LPCM). Notes in the highest registers hiss and spit, yet with a relaxing smoothness and stimulating three-dimensional (a metaphor only) projection. The entire program, in this rich smorgasbord of formats, should appeal to lovers of the violin and perhaps to general listeners as well. As did Paganini and figures like Sinatra and Presley, Ole Bull represented a cultural phenomenon that should interest at least historians. His success in his own time demonstrates that, at least to the extent that his effect didn’t depend on his personality, genuine musicality underlay his work. It’s apparent in this collection. Recommended on that account, as well.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

A lifelong admirer of German musical culture, literature and thought, Brian wrote his Fourth Symphony 'Das Siegeslied' at a time when Germany's cultural heritage was being distorted by nationalism.

There are fine recordings of Haydn's Violin Concertos by the likes of Arthur Grumiaux and Christian Tetzlaff, among others. Here's another that belongs in their company, and at budget price, too. Augustin Hadelich is a Juilliard prize-winner who brings youthful élan to the three authenticated Haydn violin concertos, adding his own apt cadenzas to them as well. They're early works, dating from the 1760s during Haydn's service for the Esterházy court. Likely written for performance by the noted virtuoso Luigi Tomasini, they're lovely pieces with ample showiness in double-stopping episodes and spirited passagework.

The C major concerto is especially notable for its sprightly outer movements flanking an exquisite Adagio, sweetly sung by Hadelich, who plays it with an affecting inwardness and intensity of feeling. He's also well up to the brilliance of the A major concerto's solo part and the virtuoso touches that characterize the G major trio, with its use of dotted notes, double-stopping, and ornamentation. Here, as elsewhere in the program, Hadelich demonstrates a tonal sweetness in the high register that is instantly appealing. The only possible aspect of his performances that could engender dissent is the occasional use of a slow vibrato that put me in mind of a wobbly soprano.

Helmut Müller-Brühl and his modern-instrument Cologne Chamber Orchestra record frequently for Naxos, and this is one of their best Haydn outings, supporting the soloist with energy and style. The engineering also is well up to snuff, with admirable transparency in such episodes as the opening of the C major's Adagio movement, where the solo violin sings the melody over the strings' pizzicato accompaniment.

--Dan Davis, ClassicsToday.com

Completed in 1887, Stanford' 'Irish' Symphony enjoyed immediate and widespread success, continuing to be played well into the twentieth century.

FLAGELLO Symphony No. 2, “Symphony of the Winds” 1. Concerto Sinfonico (trans. Merlin Patterson). 1,2 Odyssey 1. Valse Noire (trans. Walter Simmons) 2. ROSNER Symphony No. 8, “Trinity” 1 • 1 David Bertman, cond; 1 University of Houston Wind Ens; 2 University of Houston Sax Qrt • NAXOS 8.573060 (74:37)


The first thing regular readers will notice about this release is a heavy Fanfare presence. Our longtime reviewer Walter Simmons transcribed Flagello’s Valse Noire for saxophone quartet; that haunting, minor-key waltz was originally composed in 1964 for accordion. A more recent contributor, Merlin Patterson, transcribed Flagello’s Concerto Sinfonico (a concerto for saxophone quartet and orchestra) for symphonic band. The disc was produced by Merlin Patterson, with Walter Simmons as executive producer. Also, Fanfare reviewer Carson Cooman contributed to the digital editing of the recording. Under the circumstances it would be difficult for me to give this release a bad review; luckily, there is no need. The music is first-rate and the performances are excellent.


The second of Nicolas Flagello’s two symphonies was written for wind band in 1970 but did not receive its first public performance until nine years later. This kind of lengthy delay was typical during the final stages of the composer’s career, when his music was considered unfashionably romantic—if it was considered at all. The three movements’ subtitles convey the overall mood: The first is “The Torrid Winds of Veiled Portents,” the second, “Dark Winds of Lonely Contemplation,” and the third, a fugue, is called “The Winds of Re-birth and Vitality.” Like all of the composer’s works that I have heard, it is what I would call “high stakes” music. The emotional content is turbulent in the restless first movement, itself another ghostly waltz, but there is no relaxation of tension in the plaintive aria of the second movement nor in the finale, which engages in some tough contrapuntal writing. Throughout, Flagello’s sense of structure and the effectiveness of his scoring show the highest degree of expertise. This must be exciting music to play, and certainly stretching technically; I was struck by some tricky writing for trumpet in the second and third movements. Simmons’s notes do not mention it, but I wonder whether Flagello turned to this medium in the hope of emulating the success of his mentor Vittorio Giannini, whose Symphony No. 3 of 1958 for wind ensemble became a major repertory piece.


The characterful tone poem Odyssey of 1981 teems with even more “veiled portents” than the symphony, despite its comparatively jaunty central section. The tension of the grim opening is fearsome—so much so, I was reminded of Max Steiner’s atmospheric score for King Kong.


Naxos has previously released a fine recording of the original version of Flagello’s Concerto Sinfonico , and it is enlightening to compare the two. Patterson’s transcription is first-rate; like all good arrangements, it never hints that the work might have been conceived for different forces. Hearing the saxophone quartet as a sub-group of the wind ensemble clarifies the counterpoint (of which there is a lot in this work) and points up the intricacies of the interplay between the concertante and ripieno groups. The version with full orchestra sounds more like a concerto, with the soloists set in higher relief against the texture of strings. Again, it is a tough work but full of integrity, and though it was Flagello’s final completed composition it shows no sign whatsoever of his failing mental and physical condition.


Arnold Rosner is a younger composer than his discmate. Their two symphonies are quite unalike, except that both composers use tonal harmony. Rosner’s primary influence is the music of pre-Baroque eras, and I think the sonorities of the symphonic wind band emphasize this. The first movement of his symphony (titled “Ave Maria”) has an authentic feel of antiquity about it, almost as though it were a transcription of a Palestrina motet. A brass cantus firmus in the third movement (“Pythagoras”) brings overtones of Gesualdo, while the frequent use of sparkling tuned percussion across the top of the polyphonic texture suggests court music of the medieval period. Yet there is a freedom in the handling and development of this material that is distinctly 20th century. (The symphony was composed in 1988.) It is a fascinating and beautiful piece, probably my favorite of the composer’s works that I know.


The sound is close-up in the Naxos tradition, but that is no problem because the University of Houston Wind Ensemble plays magnificently. Its blend, attack, and range of dynamics are all this music requires and more, under Bertman’s strong direction. Playing standards have varied in the Naxos Wind Band Classics series, but this is one of the very best and a welcome addition to the growing Flagello discography.


FANFARE: Phillip Scott

Also available on Blu-ray

Written almost two centuries ago by Saverio Mercadante, coveted by many theatres of the day, Francesca da Rimini was, in fact, never staged. Every time it was scheduled for performance, something happened and it got canceled. A long series of incidents prevented it from reaching the stage for as many as 185 years. Its forgotten manuscript, which was only known for its ill-starred fate, suddenly re-emerged five years ago in Madrid, teh city where it was to have been premiered in 1831. The soprano Leonor Bonilla is quite impressive in the part of the protagonist: she portrays the character's psychological frailty as well as her determination wtih a steely vocal technique, spinning out incredible modulations, displaying strong and dazzling vocalizations, easily soaring into the high register and flaunting such an attractive, casual and poignant stage presence that she even dares moving some dance steps with the corps de ballet. Aya Wakizono is an admirable Paolo: endowed with a superb mezzo voice, she seeks and achieves consistency throughout the range, is virtuosic in the coloratura, and fluent. No less demanding is the part of the tenor Lanciotto, with its fearful leaps and ornamentation worth of the Neapolitan Rossini: Mert Sungu might in time get rid of a touch of harshness here and there, but already now he can tackle all the difficulties of the part with a timbric quality and an expressively worth of note...

There's more to Canteloube than the Auvergne, so splendidly shown here

For her second CD devoted to Joseph Canteloube’s vocal music, Véronique Gens has looked beyond the celebrated, much-recorded Chants d’Auvergne, and back to Tryptique, composed in 1913. Canteloube dedicated this to Maggie Teyte but the First World War interrupted its progress, and it was not until 1923 that Jane Campredon gave the premiere, with the Colonne orchestra conducted by Gabriel Pierné.

A setting of three poems by Roger Frêne, its lush, not to say extravagant orchestration anticipates Canteloube’s later folksong settings. The influence of both Ravel and Debussy is obvious, maybe also Stravinsky (it was, after all, the year of The Rite of Spring). The first section, “Offrande à l’été” is an ardent love song, with some pretty giddy scoring for harps. The central “Lunaire” has a more mysterious, yearning feel, with a lovely little dissonance at the word “cendre”, as the poet imagines the leaves turning to ash. The finale, “Hymne dans l’aurore” is an ecstatic prayer to Pan, celebrating every wonder of nature. The final cry, “Mon âme s’ouvre ainsi qu’une aube étincellante! O Pan!” is marked in the score crescendo en grandissant, and Gens, Serge Baudo and the Lille Orchestra rise to the moment with splendid force. It is really surprising that this work has not become better known; any soprano wanting to look beyond the obvious repertory should welcome it.

The rest of the disc is taken up with those remaining Auvergne songs not included on the earlier issue, conducted by Jean-Claude Casadesus (4/05). Once again, Gens proves that an authentic knowledge of the dialect is a great advantage. The much later group from Chants de France makes a pleasant end to the recital, but it is Tryptique that has to be heard.

-- Patrick O'Connor, Gramophone [12/2007]

Véronique Gens sings beautifully throughout and shows a fine understanding … perfectly at ease.

Since Stokowski’s and Anna Moffo’s pioneering recording of selections from Canteloube’s Chants d’Auvergne, these beautiful folk-song arrangements have become part of many sopranos’ repertoire. One can name Kiri Te Kanawa, Jill Gomez, Frederica von Stade and others having had a go at these ravishing works. Véronique Gens has already recorded a first volume with the same orchestra conducted by Jean-Claude Casadesus (Naxos 8.557491) favourably reviewed here by Anne Ozorio.

In spite of a varied output of chamber and orchestral music also including an opera Le Mas, the composer is now mainly known for his colourful, yet often subtle arrangements. In fact, next to the now celebrated Chants d’Auvergne, he also collected and arranged folk-songs from the Basque country, some of which were recorded some time ago (on Audivis). The present selection of nine folk songs, a few of which are new to me, beautifully complements Gens’ first instalment. What makes this release particularly worth having is the inclusion of a selection from Les Chants de France and, more importantly to my mind, that of the fine Triptyque composed in 1914 but first performed in 1925. In these settings of poems by Roger Frêne, a poet unknown to me about whom I could not find any useful information, Canteloube proves himself the heir of the likes of Fauré, Duparc and Chausson. At the same time he is attentive to the musical trends of his time: Debussy and Ravel. There is much orchestral refinement in these fine settings with more than a touch of Impressionism. I was particularly impressed by the third song Hymne dans l’aurore. It paints a strongly atmospheric evocation of the coming of dawn crowned by a glowing sunrise.

In Chants de France, Canteloube continues his labour of love with French folk-song and brings comparable subtlety and refinement to bear. In much the same way as in Chants d’Auvergne, the composer succeeds in wrapping his arrangements in superb orchestral guise, while bringing out some surprising and unexpected touches. Just try the first song, the celebrated Auprès de ma blonde; in which the composer eschews any mawkishness and vulgarity. In the last one, D’où venez-vous fillette? Has some salty rhythmic surprises in the accompaniment. The other arrangements in this selection, likewise those from Chants d’Auvergne, alternate touching tenderness, mild sorrow and earthy humour. A most welcome addition to the catalogue, although I wanted more of them given the somewhat short total playing time of this otherwise desirable release.

Véronique Gens sings beautifully throughout and shows a fine understanding of the Auvergne dialect. I think I remember a recent interview - was it in Gramophone? - in which she mentioned that she had family roots in the Auvergne and that these folk-songs meant a great deal to her. That certainly shows in her performances; but she is equally and equally perfectly at ease with the other works featured here.

Serge Baudo is highly regarded for his sympathy with French music of the first half of the 20th century and beyond. Once again he proves a most reliable and inspired partner. A pity, though, that the words of Triptyque could not be printed in the insert notes, although Gens’ excellent diction more than compensates.

-- Hubert Culot, MusicWeb International

George Szell leads taut, energetic, and texturally detailed performances of both symphonies--no surprise to anyone familiar with the other discs in this series. Szell's briskly paced Symphony No. 2 sits comfortably in the classical tradition from which it sprang, in contrast to Bernstein's expansive and romantic-style rendition with the Vienna Philharmonic. Once again comparison with period performance versions reveals Szell's ability to maintain clear textures without the need to resort to period instruments.


In the Fifth Symphony Szell doesn't go hell-for-leather in the first movement but nonetheless offers a gripping account that sets the stage for his superbly argued finale. With brilliantly judged tempos and stunning orchestral playing, Szell makes the finale the great summation it is often claimed to be. Every event follows with a satisfying sense of inevitability--just listen to how Szell heightens the drama by slowing the tempo for the development's great climax, just before the reprise of the scherzo's theme. Oh yeah, this is one of the great Fifths! Sony's remastering reveals a noticeable amount of tape hiss but not enough to deter your enjoyment of these well-engineered and naturally balanced 1964 recordings.
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.

Also available on standard DVD

Choreographer Mark Morris garnered international fame for "L'Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato", considered a landmark achievement, and set to Handel's Baroque masterpiece, in which a colorful array of dancers embody the ecstasy of art that transforms. "L'Allegro" was Mark Morris's premiere work as Director of Dance at the Théâtre Royal de la Monnaie in Brussels, Belgium in 1988, and in the intervening years, has been performed to critical and audience acclaim all over the world. Winner of numerous awards including a Laurence Olivier Award, "L'Allegro" uses Milton's text and features sets inspired by William Blake's later watercolors. Founded in NYC in 1980, the Mark Morris Dance Group (MMDG) is considered one of the preeminent modern dance companies, its members praised repeatedly for their technique and musicality. Live music and community engagement are vital components of the Dance Group, which has toured with its own musicians, the MMDG Music Ensemble, since 1996. Through Access/MMDG programming, the Dance Group provides educational opportunities in dance and music to people of all ages and abilities while on tour internationally and at home at the Mark Morris Dance Center in Brooklyn, NY. The performance was filmed July 2014 at the Teatro Real in Madrid, Spain.

This specially-priced (3 CDs for the price of 2) boxed set spans from Scriabin's first large-scale orchestral work, his Piano Concerto (1897), to Prometheus (1909-10), his last completed piece (which incidentally also features an important part for solo piano). It thus includes the lion's share of his orchestral output - excepting the unfinished, mythical Mysterium - and shows his development from a young man brought up on Chopin and Tchaikovsky into one of the most original composers the world has ever known.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

FAURE: REQUIEM

HAYDN: 6 PARIS SYMPHONIES SAN

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

This is one of those “sleeper” discs that you overlook to your disadvantage. Every cellist plays at least the two concertos, but there are surprisingly few truly excellent recordings. Christine Walevska not only plays wonderfully, but she gives us all of the composer’s major works for cello and orchestra, and the performances have that French crispness and polish that so many more famous soloists lack. She’s also very well recorded, and the Monte Carlo Orchestra has this musical idiom in its collective bones. It really is rewarding to hear these performances again, so lovingly remastered and repackaged.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

The fourth volume of the BIS Tchaikovsky cycle focuses on Symphony No. 2, nicknamed for its use of themes from the folk music of Ukraine ('Little Russia'). The first presentation of the work, at a private gathering, was a welcome success for the young Tchaikovsky in 1872: 'The entire assembled company almost tore me apart with delight, and Mme Korsakov, with tears in her eyes, asked if she might arrange it for piano four hands.' Even so, seven years later, during a stay in Rome, Tchaikovsky reworked the symphony radically. As on previous discs, the symphony is combined with shorter, and often less well-known, works. The Overture to Ostrovsky's play The Storm - later used by Janacek for his Kata Kabanova - was written as a holiday assignment during Tchaikovsky's studies at the St. Petersburg Conservatory, and earned him his teacher's disapproval for the extravagant, Berlioz-inspired scoring. The Overture in F was also a student work, which Tchaikovsky adapted for large orchestra when offered a welcome opportunity to have his work performed in Moscow. Just a couple of years later, he received a prestigious commission for a work to mark the wedding of the Tsarevich Alexander with the Danish Princess Dagmar. In the resulting Festive Overture he used motifs from the Danish and Russian national anthems, finally letting the Danish anthem resound in all its glory, in a splendid Maestoso. Even in later life Tchaikovsky regarded this piece highly, preferring it to the much more popular '1812' Overture. The Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra under its principal conductor emeritus Neeme Järvi gives all in this interesting programme.

Classical Music

Classical Music