This is the most physically exciting account of the work yet made, with a finale not even topped by Craft's remake (for Koch). Of course, there have been many other recordings since this one, including fine ones by Dohnanyí, Järvi, and Eschenbach, and those enjoy more modern sonics; but if you only have room for one version of this piece, then this is it. The addition of the Bach/Schoenberg and Schubert/Webern orchestrations, all very well done, only seals the deal.

It's common to poke fun at Schoenberg's opulent orchestration of the Brahms Piano Quartet in G minor, but the arrangement's sometimes gaudy colors make an interesting and valid point about Brahms' music in general, namely that you will find a wider range of forms and melodic archetypes in the chamber music than in the symphonies (leaving aside the larger quantity of the former as compared with the latter). Had Brahms found room in his symphonies for the marches and Hungarian tunes with which he liberally peppers this quartet, he might have felt duty-bound to score them much as Schoenberg does here (well, almost), with entertaining if "un-symphonic" results.

In other words, in his symphonies Brahms (over)compensates for the orchestra's tendency toward programmatic musical display with material that, however beautiful, suggests no such possibility. He feels safe using such material in chamber music precisely because the medium forces the composer to stylize and refine the original and reduce it to its bare musical essence. The danger of distracting programmatic suggestiveness is much less.



All of this is a long way of saying that in its way Schoenberg's orchestration is quite faithful to Brahms' music, and once you get past the enthusiastic brass and kooky percussion, what really stands out is the clarity of the part-writing, the result of a handling of the woodwind section that really is more Schoenberg than Brahms. Certainly this is one of the most striking elements in Robert Craft's now-legendary recording of this work, one in which he has the Chicago Symphony playing the living daylights out of the music.


Questions of musicological rigor aside, this also is the most physically exciting account of the work yet made, with a finale not even topped by Craft's remake (for Koch). Of course, there have been many other recordings since this one, including fine ones by Dohnanyí, Järvi, and Eschenbach, and those enjoy more modern sonics; but if you only have room for one version of this piece, then this is it. The addition of the Bach/Schoenberg and Schubert/Webern orchestrations, all very well done, only seals the deal. A classic returns! [10/9/2006]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Beethoven: Piano Concertos Nos. 4 & 5

SYMPHONY NO.9

Tchaikovsky: Romeo and Juliet - Symphony No. 6, "Pathétique"

Yuri Temirkanov makes Prokofiev's well-worn Classical Symphony sound invitingly fresh through his swift tempos and painstaking observance of rhythm, accent, and dynamic contrast. The outer movements proceed with a breezy playfulness, while the larghetto and gavotte exude 18th-century elegance. The Lieutenant Kijé Suite is similarly accomplished as Temirkanov evokes the work's contrasting moods while nicely capturing its folk atmosphere, especially in the Troika.


Temirkanov doesn't really break any new ground in the Fifth Symphony, but his rendition nonetheless is impressive for its flowing tempos and sense of drama, especially at the close of the first movement with its phalanx of brass and percussion. Temirkanov uncovers some of the score's inner details, such as the usually inaudible piano part in the first and third movements. But the real star here is the St. Petersburg Philharmonic, whose bold brass, lively winds, and sumptuous strings (in the Adagio especially) make this one of the better versions on disc. With such fine performances, it's unfortunate that RCA's acoustically dry recording drains the sound of warmth, while the low levels require you to crank up the volume--but then, watch out for those big climaxes in the symphony!
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition; Songs and Dances of D

Of Georg Solti's two recordings of the Verdi Requiem, I slightly prefer this later one, though I realize that this isn't received wisdom. The Decca recording, after all, features Sutherland, Horne, Pavarotti, and Talvela as soloists, and while Sutherland arguably is not the right voice for the part, everyone else is very good indeed. On the other hand, Leontyne Price, even toward the end of her career, certainly does have the right voice, as does Veriano Luchetti, while Baker and Van Dam are very intelligent singers by any measure, and they do a good job here. Besides, it's hard not to raise an eyebrow at the generic complaint that "singer X lacks a true Italianate timbre" when the words being sung are in Latin and the drama (such as it is) occurs entirely within a devotional framework. The music certainly can take many different approaches, particularly when there's so little actual agreement on what a "true Italianate timbre" is.


Also compared to the Decca recording, Solti here has the finer chorus, a better orchestra (for this work at least), and strangely enough, better (meaning less gimmicky) sound, particularly in this admirable new remastering that minimizes the claustrophobic closeness of the original and allows some air to circulate around the performers. Solti's interpretation remains consistent, exciting, and direct, with a particularly thrilling account of the brief Sanctus and a Dies Irae chorus that is as violent as anyone could want without ever turning merely brutal or hysterical. A work as rich as this one always excites a wide range of opinions, and personal preferences tend to vary substantially. My personal favorite, all things considered, is the first Muti on EMI, with Scotto, Baltsa, Luchetti, Nesterenko, and the Philharmonia Orchestra; but on any given day I also might go for one of Giulini's (his best is his mono live recording on BBC Legends), Fricsay (DG), Shaw, Toscanini, and yes, either of Solti's. He's definitely among the select few.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Schubert: String Quartets Nos. 13 & 14, "Death and the Maide

These head notes take some explaining. Leave Me Alone is presented twice: the original song, sung by Angelika Kirchschlager, plus a version for cello and piano played by Jan Vogler. In the op. 55 Gypsy Songs, she sings Nos. 2, 5, and 6, while he plays the other four. Ms Kirchschlager sings both Stephen Foster ballads; Wilt Thou Be Gone, Love? includes a cello solo, as well. Pianist Helmut Deutsch accompanies it all. This is all appropriate filler material, as these songs supposedly influenced the composition of the concerto, but the oddities of presentation are not explained. Let’s just say that these recordings, made in a Viennese Casino on May 18, 2005, were Vogler’s party, at which Kirchschlager was merely an invited guest. Standing in a corner, the composer was heard to mutter “Lasst meine Lieder allein.”

Jan Vogler is a young cellist from Berlin who studied with Peter Vogler, Josef Schwab, and Heinrich Schiff. He became principal cellist of the Dresden Staastkapelle at the age of 20, leaving in 1997 to pursue a solo career. His instrument is a 1712 Joseph filius Andrea Guarneri. He has a major reputation in Europe—he won the German equivalent of a Grammy Award as Best Instrumentalist of 2002—and several recent appearances in New York have drawn favorable reviews. He appears as soloist on 15 Berlin Classics CDs; his 2003 Korngold and Barber concertos, with Thomas Sanderling and the Saarbrücken Radio Symphony, cut much of the saccharine and raise those works well above mere respectability. This is his third recording for Sony, following a disc of works by Richard Strauss (Don Quixote and Romance for Cello and Orchestra with Staastkapelle Dresden, plus the Cello Sonata) and one of the Fauré and Schumann piano quintets with Louis Lortie. Neither has ever been available in America.

Angelica Kirchschlager is the latest in the series of great mezzo-sopranos of our era. She has a seamless, easily produced voice, faultless technique that never draws attention to itself, and great feeling for many musical styles. It speaks well of her confidence that she agreed to play second fiddle on this disc. Her Gypsy Songs (sung in German) are so fine that I wish she had sung all seven, but Mr. Vogler’s playing is equally wonderful. Mr. Deutsch gets to show his stuff in the brilliant, complex accompaniments, Foster not having offered him much of a challenge.

Having disposed of the hors d’oeuvres, we can now attack the main course. After the opening phrase, the Cello Concerto’s orchestral introduction is so high-spirited that one wonders if a cello will be able to match it. In the second theme, Philip Myers’s solo horn (the Philharmonic’s full roster appears in the booklet) could wring tears from a stone. The cello entrance is equally strong; Vogler’s lean, clean sonority shines through. Throughout the performance, the athletic side of the music is to the fore; emotion is not short-changed, but the work never falls prey to the over-ripe sentimentality common to most recordings. A best single word to describe this performance would be invigorating. The obvious comparison is with Yo-Yo Ma, playing with the same orchestra in the same hall, for the same label. It’s not that Vogler is a better cellist (only God and Feuermann?), but he has an exuberant personal style, as does conductor David Robertson; they throw themselves into the music wholeheartedly. Ma’s playing is more inhibited—no, that’s not quite the right word—more self contained. His conductor Kurt Masur fits the same mold, being a product of conservative German musical tradition.

The recorded sound is gorgeous. The recording took place in Avery Fisher Hall on December 6, 2004; the orchestra kindly allowed me to attend the morning session (the first movement), and the troublesome venue never sounded so rich and alive. With no audience (I was surrounded by 2,741 empty seats) nor any artificial damping materials, as were used at some Columbia sessions in the Bernstein era, the music surged through the hall, vibrant and forceful. On the recording, ff climaxes do turn slightly hard, a common fault of this hall, but that’s a minor blemish on an otherwise stunning achievement. Vogler’s lean, forward tone makes its presence felt at all times, as it did in the hall, so it does not depend on electronic assistance. Kudos to producer Andreas Neubronner! After 50 minutes of rehearsal and audio adjustments, the opening Allegro was set down in one complete take and another broken into three sections. One wishes Sony had issued an SACD recording here; why is it no longer supporting its own medium? Vogler’s aforementioned Don Quixote is a Sony surround-sound hybrid SCAD “only available outside the US market,” according to www.highfidelity.net.

This CD bears the title: “The Secrets of Dvo?ák’s Cello Concerto,” which relates to two interviews in the program notes between Michael Beckerman, chair of New York University’s Department of Music and a specialist in Czech music, and cellist Jan Vogler. They do explore some interesting areas and provide some valuable information, but I find most of it to be hype, pursuing the question of whether the death of Dvo?ák’s love Josefina Kounicová (whose sister Anna he married, à la Mozart) has relevance to our understanding of the Cello Concerto. Here’s a basic point on which I disagree: Beckerman writes “Telling musical stories in one way or another was Dvo?ák’s stock in trade at this time in his career” (the Cello Concerto followed the “New World” Symphony, was contemporary with his final two quartets, in G Major and AI Minor, and preceded the four tone poems after Erben ballads). The statement is too vague and too hedged to contradict, but I feel it misrepresents the composer, and the following 16 pages of argument are based on it. If we examine Dvo?ák’s œuvre, most observers agree that his best works are his instrumental and orchestral ones, not his operas, which, in spite of containing much wonderful music, fail just because he was not much of a story teller. His lovely songs depend primarily on their luscious melodies. The Cello Concerto speaks to me as an instrumental and orchestral masterpiece, and to hell with its composer’s love life. Those interviews form the entire program notes, their 17 pages denying us a single word of song texts. If Dvo?ák was such a story teller, why not let us read some of his stories? Texts would have been especially welcome for the songs played by the cello. Perhaps what I dislike most is Sony’s view that every disc these days must have an Album Concept, as if Dvo?ák, Jan Vogler, and the New York Philharmonic were not enough.

Arkivmusic.com lists 102 entries under Dvo?ák’s Cello Concerto, by 38 soloists; many are duplications and/or reissues, so the number of performances is probably about 50. I’ve heard perhaps half that many, and this new one is my favorite. It should not be a serious collector’s only recording, of course; I’ve kept at least seven others: Casals/Szell (pace Bernard Jacobson), Starker/Dorati, Rostropovich/Talich, Ma/Masur, and three Feuermanns.

FANFARE: James H. North

This is an excellent set, intelligently assembled, scrupulously prepared, lucidly recorded, played with a freshness and wit that serve these delightful pieces well.

Mendelssohn's extraordinary precocity is nowhere more comprehensively shown than in the 13 early string symphonies, and though it is extraordinary that these were unknown until 1960, it is scarcely less so that there are still works in Berlin awaiting editing and performance. The symphonies are exceptional, though, in that the range of their invention far exceeds what might be expected of even so prodigiously talented a boy. He had been rigorously schooled in Bach counterpoint, and in harmony partly by way of the chorale; and impressive examples of his diligence have been published in R. Larry Todd's Mendelssohn's Musical Education (Cambridge: 1983). But the inventiveness with which this schooling was put into effect remains dazzling, as with (to take only two examples) the chorale idea in the Minuet of the Sixth Symphony or the brilliant contrapuntal writing in the Eighth Symphony, in which the more immediate inspiration was Mozart, and in particular the Jupiter Symphony.

Roy Goodman makes use of the version with wind instruments for this symphony, which Mendelssohn made within three days of having written the original, and (with one reservation) accepts Mendelssohn's astonishingly fast tempo markings. He brings them off brilliantly, even the helter-skelter bass pizzicatos in the Trio of the Minuet. He also shows, with the use of period string techniques, how quick Mendelssohn's ear was for novel sonorities. An affection for the still underprivileged viola may have come from Mozart, but Mendelssohn would also have heard these sounds pioneered by Weber (who otherwise barely influenced him in these works). There are beautiful string sonorities even in the very earliest works, especially in the often darkly-hued slow movements; and the finales have all the pace and wit of the more mature Mendelssohn (that is to say, when he was in hisleens). Goodman judges tempo well, which is to say he has a shrewd sense of weight as well as of pace. He also directs from the keyboard, which it is certain Mendelssohn himself would have done at those famous Sunday morning concerts in his parents' Berlin house, and he permits himself the occasional contribution: both in theory and in practice, this is entirely in style.

This is an excellent set, intelligently assembled, scrupulously prepared, lucidly recorded, played with a freshness and wit that serve these delightful pieces well. It includes the Sinfoniesatz, an isolated piece of romantic baroque with a slow introduction and a quasi-fugal fast section, less attractive than the other works but worth including for curiosity value.

-- Gramophone [1/1996]

MAHLER Symphony No. 4 • James Levine, cond; Judith Blegen (sop); Chicago SO • RCA 59413 (57:58)


Gustav Mahler’s symphonies can work with so many different approaches (unlike the symphonies of most composers) that to pick any one recording of any of the symphonies and call it a “classic” is inviting argument and trouble, yet this specific recording of this particular symphony certainly qualifies in my book. Made in 1976, it has withstood not only the challenges of virtually every recording that came after it but has superceded most of its predecessors.


It took me several decades to realize that James Levine took his inspiration for this performance from the very odd recording of this symphony by Willem Mengelberg and the Concertgebouw Orchestra. Mengelberg slows down certain passages, especially in the first movement, so much that the motor rhythm practically stops, and this has been heavily criticized over the years, but he also imbued the music with an almost demonic intensity that took it away from the placid overview of the symphony as “a child’s view of heaven” and placed it into another realm. Levine borrowed the intense aspects of Mengelberg’s vision, but played the symphony in tempos much closer to those prescribed by Mahler, with the result being this classic of the phonograph.


Judith Blegen, though a fine and very musical soprano, does not have the finest voice for this music (that honor goes to Kathleen Battle, in her CBS recording with Lorin Maazel), yet she is quite good, and the overall impact of this recording is such that all subsequent interpretations are compared to it. That, in itself, qualifies this recording as Hall of Fame material.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

Brahms: Ein deutsches Requiem

Gunter Wand's NDR Beethoven cycle is one of the great ones, and these performances, while not quite the best in the set, will disappoint no one. Judicious tempos, lean and clean textures, and taut rhythms characterize this "Eroica", which never wears its Classical-period orientation like a hair-shirt, leaving plenty of room for Romantic angst in the funeral march. The Finale also has unusual cogency, and it's only in the first movement where I might have wished for a bit more impulsiveness. No such reservations apply to the Eighth, however. Wand's interpretation brims with humor and benefits from his careful attention to bass lines when they get the melody (as at the first-movement recapitulation). The recording also enjoys terrific sonics. If you don't have the complete set and don't want it, you can certainly get this disc with confidence. --David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

The highly acclaimed pianist and composer Johannes Obermeier guides the listener through the lyrical piano world of Felix Mendelssohn on his new GENUIN album Beyond Words. As a composer himself, Obermeier brings a keen sensitivity to sound, structure, and expression, offering a particularly refined perspective on Mendelssohn's music. At the centre are the famous Lieder ohne Worte-music that speaks without words and resonates deeply. Works such as the Variations s�rieuses and Rondo capriccioso broaden this musical world. With great sensitivity and attention to detail, Obermeier reveals a fresh perspective on familiar repertoire.

Both Pizzetti and Stravinsky were drawn to the subject of Oedipus Rex, but in very different contexts. The 24-year-old Pizzetti was commissioned to write Three Orchestral Preludes for use in a theatrical production. He wrote with an austere sense of orchestral colour, devoid of impressionism that favours the vaguely archaic, with modal inflections. Stravinsky’s opera-oratorio was written in his neo-Classical style, with a central role for narrator. In a stark, stylised and formal setting, the use of Latin, and Stravinsky’s instruction for the leading characters to wear masks, add timeless, impersonal elements to a work that culminates in catharsis.

This recording is dedicated to Antonio Vivaldi's extraordinary works for bassoon and illuminates the works in the light of their autograph tradition. Based on the Turin manuscripts, a historically informed interpretation unfolds, impressively showcasing the tonal diversity and virtuosity of the bassoon in Vivaldi's late works. Miho Fukui plays concertos for baroque bassoon and baroque oboe together with Ensemble F, thus directly continuing Vivaldi's practice of flexibly conceiving solo parts between the central reed instruments of his time. Played on historical instruments and supported by current musicological research, this recording combines source study with lively musical expressiveness-and opens up an authentic approach to one of the Venetian master's most fascinating groups of works.

Rare virtuosic piano music by French Widor Widor composed for stage, voice, orchestra, chamber ensemble, and, most famously, organ. When a composer's primary mode of expression is the king of instruments, a certain austerity can attach itself to their reputation and this is arguably the case with the popular view of Widor, because hardly any composers are simultaneously so famous and so unknown. Were it not for John R. Near, the writer of Widor's only definitive biography, who first made me aware of Widor's solo piano music, it is likely I would never have encountered it. The piano works show aspects of Widor's art less present in his seminal cycle of ten Organ Symphonies, which bear the weight of his considerable intellect and erudition; writing for piano Widor seems able to explore other, more fanciful aspects of his nature, and our understanding of this great composer is enriched by it. I have tried to select works which represent the great variety of styles to be found in his solo piano music.

From Another World is more than an album title : it's an invitation to travel across centuries, continents, and emotions. At it's heart lies an encounter between two musical traditions: the elegance and architecture of European classical music and the expressive pulse of Argentine tango. Bridging these worlds is Guttman Tango Quintet, formed by musicians who draw naturally from both traditions under the direction of violinist Michael Guttman. In From Another World, tango is not nostalgia. It is evolution. Just as Astor Piazzolla once liberated tango from the dance hall into the concert hall, Guttman dialogues with the classics that shaped Western music. Each track on this album begins with a familiar theme (Beethoven, Mozart, Mahler, Dvorak, and others) and let's it wander into Buenos Aires. What emerges is neither parody nor pastiche, but a transformation. Recorded in January 2025 at the Queen Elisabeth Music Chapel, this debut album captures a moment of creative alchemy, an ensemble of classical virtuosos surrendering to the irresistible gravity of tango.

I made my first public appearance as a soloist the same year I graduated and pursued advanced studies in Copenhagen with Emil Telm�nyi and in Berlin with Willy Hess from 1919 until 1921, and when I returned home, I succeeded in securing a position as a violinist in the Royal Danish Orchestra." But already not long afterwards in 1923 he presented himself as a candidate for the leader of the Berlin Philharmonic, which after the death of Artur Nikisch in the previous year now had Wilhelm Furtw�ngler as it's chief conductor. He won the position over 14 competitors and relates himself: "That was quite something for an enthusiastic young violinist! From the last desk of the second violinists on Kgs. Nytorv to the highly responsible first desk in Bernburger Strasse, enjoying a close working relationship with such a great figure as Wilhelm Furtw�ngler.

This album brings to life the richly expressive world of Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, a composer who stood at the crossroads of Baroque tradition and Classical innovation. These sonatas for keyboard and flute reveal a musical language in transition: rooted in the structural clarity of the Baroque trio sonata, yet transformed through Bach's bold, sensitive exploration of emotion and individuality. In these works, the keyboard emerges as an equal partner rather than a mere accompaniment, embodying a new, modern voice that reflects the composer's forward-thinking spirit and his pivotal role in shaping the expressive "Empfindsamer Stil." Performed with historical insight and artistic imagination, this recording highlights both the versatility of the instruments and the performers' deep engagement with the repertoire. By embracing original keys, nuanced dynamics, and inventive interpretation, the musicians illuminate the subtle dialogue between recorder and harpsichord, revealing music that is at once intimate, daring, and alive with contrast. The result is a vivid portrait of a composer constantly searching for new means of expression-bridging eras, expanding possibilities, and inviting listeners into a world of refined emotion and creative discovery.

Composed between 2004 and 2022, the seven works on this album reflect the concerns and crises of our time. These include the pandemic, racial unrest, global conflict, reflections on the realities of war, the pervasive use of gun violence, pollution, and social strife. The music oscillates between struggle and celebration and gives powerful glimpses of redemptive hope in our shared experiences, one that values civic identity and collective expression and offers a fanfare for those who shape our future for the better.

This album brings together three major orchestral works by John McCabe, composed between 1970 and 2007, and reflecting key strands of his musical thought. Symphony No. 2 unfolds as a tightly integrated single span, notable for it's rhythmic energy, luminous orchestration, and structural clarity. Symphony No. 3, Hommages, acknowledges McCabe's lifelong engagement with the music of Haydn and Nielsen, blending quotation and allusion within a vibrant, tonal framework. The Cello Concerto Songline traces a continuous musical journey, combining virtuosity with introspective lyricism and a finely balanced orchestral palette.

Franz Krommer served the Habsburg emperors as court composer in Vienna, having succeeded his Czech compatriot, Leopold Kozeluch. He excelled in a vast range of music, notably the string quartet and music for winds, but he also wrote eight published symphonies and a sequence of concertos. In the recordings heard here conductor Marek �tilec uses corrected parts based on archival records. Both the First and Second Symphonies are fulsome and vigorous with graceful trios and bustling energy, revealing an increasingly bold and adventurous language. The attractive Concertino is in effect a divertimento full of shifting moods.

SOMM Recordings is pleased to release their second recording with the Chamber Ensemble of London, a virtuoso group of hand-picked string players directed by violinist Peter Fisher, whom The Times counts amongst "a handful of the world's finest musicians." Following the ensemble's 2022 SOMM release, Eclogue - British Chamber Music, which Gramophone praised for it's "unfailingly sympathetic music-making throughout," this new release is Quiet Summer Evening - British Concertante Music, drawing on the rich tradition of light classical music. The programme opens with Rhapsody for Clarinet & Strings by Geoffrey Bush. He was initially taught by John Ireland and, on his advice, studied composition and classics at Balliol College, Oxford, emerging with degrees in both subjects in 1946. Bush's hauntingly beautiful rhapsody features the sought-after clarinettist Peter Cigleris, whose growing discography includes three previous releases with SOMM. He is also the soloist in 5 Pieces for Clarinet & String Orchestra by Clive Jenkins, CEOL's associate composer. Jenkins was born in Plymouth, and he shows his roots in many of his compositions-including these pieces, each of which has a name connected with Plymouth. Another work by Jenkins included here is Fantasy for Horn & Strings, featuring Alexei Watkins, a graduate of the Royal Academy of Music, where he was awarded the Dennis Brain Prize. Watkins is also featured in Orion (Serenade for Horn & Strings) by prize-winning conductor-composer Andy Meyers, as well as Lullaby, an expressive and programmatic piece by composer and BBC Radio 3 producer Luke Whitlock. Bassoonist Sarah Watts is a multi-instrumentalist who has become well known worldwide as a prolific composer of colourful and inspiring music. Here, she performs her composition Everywhere Is Somewhere Else. Additionally, she is the soloist for the contemplative Sunday Afternoon by notable arranger, conductor, and composer Nigel Brooks, excerpted from the broadcast series Stars on Sunday, and also A Little Waltz by the prolific mid-twentieth-century composer, arranger, and master orchestrator Gordon Jacob. Other pieces by composers from former generations include Canto popolare, extracted from Edward Elgar's concert overture In the South; Lennox Berkeley's single-movement Andantino, which he adapted from his Festival Anthem; and one of Frederick Delius's earliest surviving compositions, Romance. The soloist for Berkeley's Andantino and Delius's Romance is cellist Michael Mace, who pursues a wide and varied musical career as performer and teacher. Peter Fisher is the violinist for Elgar's Canto popolare and the appealing Vers le Sud (Towards the South) by Terence Higgins who, notwithstanding his early promise, decided against a full-time professional musical career and-like composers Wilfrid Josephs and Alan Rawsthorne-qualified as a dentist. Fisher also plays the CD's title piece, Quiet Summer Evening, a contemplative piece by composer-pianist Don Shearman, who enjoyed a long and distinguished career in light music.

SOMM Recordings is delighted to collaborate once again with one of the foremost pianists of our time, Peter Donohoe. A joint winner of the 1982 International Tchaikovsky Competition, Donohoe has performed with all the major London orchestras and multiple European and American orchestras, as well as at the BBC Proms no less than 18 times. His impressive discography on SOMM includes the complete Prokofiev and Scriabin Sonatas, as well as the complete Mozart Piano Sonatas. "Donohoe appears to take early Beethoven as his interpretive trajectory with a gloves-off spontaneity that imbues these magical scores with a compelling vitality and freshness..." (BBC Music Magazine, Choice) "Donohoe plays these pieces with a personal involvement that is as touching as it is fascinating and finely considered." (Gramophone) Donohoe also recorded with SOMM the highly regarded 2nd and 3rd Sonatas (2023) and Waltzes (2024) by Chopin. Now, this latest release is The Chopin I Love, a title he borrowed from one of the most formative recordings of his youth, an LP of Arthur Rubinstein. Donohoe's personal selections represent works which have always resonated very much with him, as well as representing some of the most challenging, unique, and significant repertoire for piano ever written. The most substantial works in this collection are the Preludes, Op. 28, whose technical demands place them firmly amongst Chopin's most virtuosic works. Although Chopin did not necessarily intend for all 24 Preludes-one in each key-to be played as a group, they are performed here as a complete cycle, which makes for a fascinating and satisfying listening experience. Chopin wrote a further single Prelude, Op. 45, which is a longer and more detailed study than the individual numbers in the Opus 28 set, with the exception of the "Raindrop" Prelude. Chopin's Barcarolle, Op. 60, inspired by the rocking rhythm of the traditional folk song sung by Venetian gondoliers, is another of his more demanding compositions. It is also one of his last major compositions, along with his Polonaise-Fantaisie, Op. 61. Chopin's distinctive sound often includes the national flavour of his native Poland, and this piece takes it's character from the Polish dance, while the fantaisie provides it's harmonic complexity and intricate form. For Peter Donohoe, the 2 Nocturnes, Op. 62, are the culmination of the musical form, these intimately expressive works being Chopin's final compositions in the genre. The 3 �cossaises, Op. 72 No. 3, which close this recital, were amongst the first pieces Donohoe ever knew and were therefore seminal for him. He says, "That they are much less serious than any of the other works here does not detract from their originality and charm." Included as a download is Donohoe's performance of Chopin's Berceuse, a lullaby he composed late in life, which remains one of the composer's most beloved pieces.