If there is one sensation aroused today in the listener to Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari's operas it is delight: How attractive they are! The composer seems to have achieved the perfect unity of straightforward Italianate lyricism and the orchestral style of the German school. His operas are supreme examples of eclecticism in the best sense of the term...

(The Secret of Susanna), first performed at the Hofoper, Munich, on November 4, 1909, was outwardly a departure from the composer's usual eighteenth-century settings, but in fact it is clearly modelled after Pergolesi's La Serva Padrona with its three roles for soprano, baritone, and mime servant. The overture "in miniature" is a masterpiece of engagin melody and marvelously controlled counterpoint - each of the four themes upon which it is built are able to hold their own when played separately, yet work perfectly when played together in the coda.

Here and there during the course of his one-act opera, one may recall Donizetti - as in the piano solo that returns as the duet finale - or wagner, Liszt, Debussy - a faun flits about the tobacco smoke as the clarinet weaves its sinuos chromatic arabesques during Susanna's aria - and others, but in no way can this score be construed as derivative. The harmony is predominantly diatonic, enriched when necessary with Wagnerian chromaticism. Nevertheless, unlike the music of Humperdinck, Wilhelm Kienzl or Alexander von Fielitz, to name but three of the many Wagnerite composers, it is free of the pervasive flavor of Bayreuth. On the other hand we do not come away from hearing the music with the impression that Wolf-Ferrari was a follower of twilight Verdi - though the excitement ad panache of Falstaff is there - Massenet, or a rival of Puccini or Richard Strauss. Clearly Wolf-Ferrari set out on his own mission; he was influenced by many, but a disciple of none; he was inspired by the past but sought to beautify the present. above all, for all his eclecticism, ermanno Wolf-Ferrari remained his own man.

- Barrymore Laurence Scherer
excerpted from album liner notes

The fortieth anniversary of the Marlboro Music Festival is celebrated by the release of' 12 CDs from Sony Classical, which give a broad view of the major personalities and musical highlights of this exceptional initiative and institution... Particularly outstanding is a deeply felt Schubert String Quintet with one of the most serene second movement adagios on record.

-- Gramophone [6/1991]

Michael Tilson Thomas’s first version [of Symphony no 3] with the LSO on Sony boasted the best contralto of all in Janet Baker and a wonderful coupling of Baker singing the [Rückert-Lieder].

-- Tony Duggan, MusicWeb International

Includes work(s) by Aaron Copland, Maurice Ravel, Joaquín Rodrigo, Sergei Prokofiev, Virgil Thomson, Gabriel Fauré, Jacques Ibert, Percy Aldridge Grainger. Ensemble: Philharmonia Virtuosi. Conductor: Richard Kapp.

SIBELIUS: FINLANDIA, VALSE TRI

There will be listeners who have come across the Paris string quartets in the so-called quatuor cancertant manner, that is to say with a soloistic firstviolin part that turns the work into something of a chamber concerto. This is something more unusual; a set of quintets in which a cello is the concertante instrument with a string quartet in attendance. Written in Paris in the middle of the first decade of the nineteenth century, the heyday of the quatuor concertant, they are typical of the ingenious Reicha in his use of the unexpected. He was a clever composer, as his pupils Berlioz and Liszt (among many other famous men) discovered to their benefit. These pieces find him in a more relaxed mode: no quirky fugues here. The minuets have been dropped, accentuating the chamber concerto manner; but the style is closer to the intimacies of chamber music without the intellectual subtleties of Haydn or Beethoven. They are really for cellists with a curiosity about the byways of their repertory; but others could enjoy this easy-going, undemanding music, nicely played by a group clearly out for enjoyment, and well recorded too.

-- Gramophone [10/1993]

In December 1740, a notice in the Mercure de France announced the imminent publication of six ‘Sonates Violoncello Solo col Basso’ by Antonio Vivaldi. He composed at least ten cello sonatas; one has vanished, but this extremely rare Paris print encompassed the greater, and much the best part of a corpus of work which might have been significantly larger than we now know.v These sonatas have been recorded fairly regularly; the catalogue features creditable versions from Pieter Wispelwey (Channel Classics) and David Watkin (Hyperion), both accomplished periodists offering much to enjoy and admire in their contrasting performances. If Wispelwey is the more mercurial, surprising and unconventional, then Watkin’s more scholarly approach tends sometimes toward drabness, regardless of its authority.

Veteran Dutch authenticist Anner Bylsma, however, plays with greater imagination and fervour than either. Questions of phrasing, articulation and ornamentation will always remain largely conjectural; Bylsma’s solutions are reassuringly plausible, but never pedantic in their application of received historical wisdom. Sony’s fine recording is richly detailed, whilst never over-resonant, and continuo playing is discreetly effective throughout. Highly recommended.
Performance: 5 (out of 5); Sound: 5 (out of 5)

-- Michael Jameson, BBC Music Magazine

Part, A.: Berliner Messe / Fratres / Collage Uber B-A-C-H /

The Columbia Symphony may not have been a first-class orchestra, but Bruno Walter trained to do the right things, and it responded with first-class accounts of the Brahms symphonies. While there are instances of less-than-crack ensemble, there is also some very fine first-desk playing, and the performances as a whole are marked by a natural feeling of movement, phrasing, and expression. Walter’s approach to the music is kindly, caring, wonderfully whole – sunny but not overly brilliant, warm but not overly heated, sincere but not overly impassioned. Anyone who thinks that means the conductor was slow, shapeless, or indulgent should listen. There is thrust here, and plenty of momentum. The recordings are closely miked and somewhat bass-heavy, but in Sony’s 20-bit remastering the sound is wonderfully alive and direct. – Ted Libbey, author of The NPR Guide to Building a Classical CD Collection

Easily the best mono disc thus far in this series was made by Walter with the NYPO in 1956, and largely comprises of music by Johann Strauss II: it really is remarkably fine. The sound is spacious and full, in fact almost as good as stereo. To have Walter's accounts of the An der schönen, blauen Donau, the G'schichten aus dem Wienerwald and the Kaiser waltzes is treasure indeed, especially as the readings are so idiomatic. However, the conductor reserves his special affection for Wiener Blut, the introduction coaxed with loving care, the violins ravishing. In addition there are volatile performances of the Fledermaus and Zigenunerbaron Overtures. These Strauss items are coupled with four of Brahms's Hungarian Dances (Nos. 1, 3, 10 and 17). They are given a Viennese air and are filled out with charming detail. The concert ends with Walter's 1941 version of Smetana's "Vltava" (Ma vlast). This opens delicately and the moonlight sequence is also quite lovely. Unfortunately the restricted range of the recording prevents the St John's rapids episode from providing any sense of dynamic expansion, although the work's closing section comes off well.

-- Gramophone [8/1995]

Finland has produced a remarkably significant musical output for a country of it's size, not the least of which is that of the contemporary composer Kaija Saariaho, whose ethereal compositio ns focus strongly on timbre and harmony.

This recording is also available as a mini disc.
This CD includes a multimedia portion.
THE GUITARIST could be described as a record of brooding reflection and pastoral solitude with echoes of ancient Greece a recurrent motif. It also demonstrates that one can plan a wonderfully varied yet coherent guitar recital without recourse to the usual Bach transcriptions and Spanish chestnuts.
No one is better equipped to do this than John Williams. As much an ambassador of the guitar as a player, he puts his commitment to new music for the instrument to good use here, the major dividend being the 'Koyunbaba' of Italian composer Carlo Domeniconi. Inspired by Turkish themes and landscapes, the four-movement suite employs an unusual C sharp minor tuning to haunting, original effect.
The 'Stele' of Australian Phillip Houghton are moody evocations of the Greek coastline and ancient monuments to gods, demons and sailors lost at sea, while the 'Epitafios' of Mikis Theodorakis eulogize the more recently departed with the direct simplicity of folk music. Rounded off with a suite of medieval tunes and a particularly successful arrangement of Satie's third 'Gymnopedie,' THE GUITARIST leads one down a darker, less traveled road full of drama and beauty.

MAHLER: SYMPHONY NO 3, KINDERT

KODALY: HARY JANOS SUITE PROK

One might have thought that the exceptional nature of this opera, lull of vague thoughts and understated music, would prove elusive on disc, but Boulez's much praised 1970 recording, made after his performances of it at Covent Garden, reappears amid a positive welter of recommendable versions of the work, making choice increasingly difficult. His long introductory essay that accompanied the original LP issue, setting out his ideas on the opera and its casting, has unfortunately now been dropped; but in particular he made a point of the importance of the orchestra — "to reduce the score to an accompanied recitative is conspicuously to betray it" — and under his direction the orchestral sound is truly splendid, reflecting his reaction against the "bloodlessness" with which the drama is often presented.

The French of his completely non-French cast (contrasting with those of Dutoit and Jordan Decca, 3/91 and Erato, 12/91 respectively) is let down only by George Shirley—I am surprised that Boulez did not insist on something being done about his poor vowels—and though, as a tenor, he conveys Pelléas's youthfulness, his tone is rather unyielding for much of the time. The other slightly disappointing piece of casting is David Ward, who makes old Arkel sound merely glum (though that seems to have been the reading Boulez wanted). But the strength of this performance lies with the intelligent and vocally assured Sdderström and with Mcintyre's superb character study of Golaud, against his will eaten up with a jealousy that drives him to near-madness; and exceptionally good is the boy Anthony Britten as little Yniold. The recording, always very satisfying, is now "enhanced using 20-bit technology", if you know what that means: at any rate, it sounds fine to me.

-- L.S., Gramophone [4/1992]

Stravinsky: Symphony of Psalms, Concerto for Piano and Wind

Mozart: Divertimento, K. 334, Al desio di chi t'adora, K. 57

Although there is no lack of drama, this reading is refreshingly unmannered and free from overstatement.

The Third was among the first and most successful of Bernstein's Mahler recordings. Leonard Bernstein's reading is refreshingly unmannered and free from overstatement. There is no lack of drama or tension in the long first movement: the inner movements are done with great charm and the second in particular is quite winning. Matha Lipton is occasionally a shade under the note in the fourth movement, "0 Mensch, 0 Mensch!" but her voice has excellent quality and she sings with great feeling. The singing of the boys' choir in the fifth movement is fresh and vigorous and only an occasional note of over-sweetness, not wholly unavoidable in this music, is found in the finale. Apart from one or two minor points of balance that are of small account, the recording is well engineered. The acoustic is warm and open, detail emerges clearly and the perspective is for the most part truthful. The surfaces are smooth. Strongly recommended.

-- Gramophone [6/1974, reviewing an LP reissue of the Mahler 3]

It may surprise some, but this particular coupling is actually quite rare. The two pieces make interesting partners, the bite and drama of the Symphony contrasting well with the mellow warmth of the Serenade. There are literally dozens of versions of both pieces in the catalogue, many of them in modern digital sound. This Sony disc sounds its age in places, particularly the New World, which has a rather hard edge and glare in the upper registers (showing its CBS origins), but it is always worth hearing great conductors in familiar music.

Ormandy certainly coaxes playing of great character and spontaneity out of the 60s vintage LSO. The strings throughout have marvellous bite and cohesion. Sample the soaring violins at 3.32 in the first movement, or the rich cellos and basses later in the same movement. Ormandy seems fairly content to play things ‘straight’, which suits me to a degree, though some conductors, most notably Kubelik (DG) and Kondrashin (Decca), are willing to take a few more risks to bring out the life and drama beneath the notes. Nevertheless, Ormandy makes sure that precision and adherence to the score is paramount, and this brings many rewards. The great Largo is never sentimentalised, and the Scherzo has real flair and panache, with the LSO wind particularly fine. The Finale has a sense of grandeur and breadth that is very satisfying, and while there may be more individual accounts in the catalogue, this performance has a lot going for it.

Kempe’s unforced, eloquent reading of the wonderful Serenade also has its own special magic. He takes a relaxed view of the opening, shaping the lyrical first theme in a slow, affectionate way that then contrasts with the slightly sharper rhythmic point for the second subject. There is real concentration in every bar, and though the Munich strings may not be world class, they respond enthusiastically to their great conductor. The Valse movement has a lovely lilt, as well as dramatic impulse, and the engaging Scherzo is matched by the warmth of the Larghetto. I’ve heard the Finale played with a touch more Slavonic bite and precision, but Kempe keeps a firm grip on proceedings and achieves a genuinely exciting climax. The recording is also warmer and slightly more focused than the older Ormandy.

This disc enters a very crowded field but has its rewards. I found myself hearing details in both performances that marked them out, and anyone who is more interested in genuine music-making rather than state-of–the-art sound will not be disappointed.

-- Tony Haywood, MusicWeb International

Whilst there have been many recordings of Bach's flute sonatas there has been less than total agreement as to what should (and should not) be included under that heading; Cologne Musica Antiqua with Wilbert Hazelzet (in a seven record set—DG 2742 007, 1/84), otherwise frontrunners, present BWVIO2O as a violin work. Our comparison is thus between artists, performances and instruments—Hünteler on Philips uses a single-key, period (reproduction) flute but Rampal is here shown holding a metal flute with 'all mod.' keywork, two very different instruments indeed.

Johnny Dankworth once described his own music as "couth, kempt and shevelled" and Rampal's performances, those of a consummate technician, strike me in the same way. Commendably, he avoids using his facility to indulge in fast tempos; where his striking rate is the higher, as in BWVI030/1II and BWVI032/11I, it is rather that Hünteler is leisurely—and occasionally the situation is inverted, e.g. in BWV l035/I. The baroque flute is an intimate, 'vocally' flexible instrument with a softer-edged attack than today's instrument, capable of much subtelty of nuance in volume, tone and pitch. Lines of separately attacked notes, particularly in BWVI032/1, III and BWV 1035/li, sound more typewriter-like from Rampal, but, strangely, it is Hünteler who respects the detaché markings at the opening of BWV 1035/Ill, not Rampal. The slow movements point the difference in approach (and instrument), Hünteler shaping the lines affectionately, leaning on the appoggiaturas and often scarcely breathing their resolutions, and Rampal more inclined to deliver his lines smoothly and more evenly—the beauty of purity. Rampal ventures some embellishment, notably in BWVI030/I1 and BWV1033/ III, and does so stylishly, but not in the famous Siciliana (BWV 1031/11)—where H Onteler's little flights of fancy are matched by Koopman's. I am not convinced by some of the interruptions in Rampal's lines, especially those which fragment the opening section of the unaccompanied Partita, BWV tO 13, surely not imposed by breathing 'strategy'. The completion of BWV1032/I is by Pinnock and seems as good as anyone else's. Though more reserved in his approach, Pinnock is as good a partner as Rampal could have wished for and he seems as much at home (though not always so balanced in sound) as he does with Stephen Preston (CRD CRDI0I4/5, 8/75), a set which, however, lacks BWV 1020.

In short, this is a thoughtful, cultured and pleasing set, well recorded and on the whole nicely balanced, but lacking in emotional involvement; the beauty of the music often seems admired rather than loved. Though the baroque flute is clearly the best horse for this course, this is the best-yet Set recorded on today's instrument—and very recommendable to those who prefer its sound.

-- J.D., Gramophone [ 12/1985]

Schumann’s treatment of Goethe is a curiously uneven work, composed at various stages in the last decade of his life. Parts 1 and 2 consist of dramatic scenes, which lie somewhere between opera and oratorio, rather as in Berlioz’s Damnation of Faust; but Schumann’s third part takes the music on to an altogether higher plane, setting the mystical final scene from Goethe’s poem (the same text Mahler used in his Eighth Symphony). Recordings and performances of the complete work are rare, partly because of its length (nearly two hours) and the need for multiple soloists (ten in this performance); so this exceptionally fine new Sony set, recorded ‘live’ at Berlin concerts last year, is very welcome indeed. Bryn Terfel is an ideally ardent, troubled Faust, and sings a large amount of music with consummate authority. Mattila makes us feel for Gretchen, and the ensemble numbers are led by Barbara Bonney’s silvery high soprano. The choral singing (Swedish choirs prepared by the legendary Eric Ericson) is simply outstanding, as are the Tölz Boys Choir’s lusty contributions. Most importantly of all, Claudio Abbado conducts with flair and also with great sensitivity, and the members of the orchestra respond as if they believe in every note. If this set doesn’t win an award, there’s no justice in the world.

Performance: 5 (out of 5), Sound: 5 (out of 5)

-- BBC Music Magazine

This is playing of distinction. With all 13 players being of the highest quality and Mehta at his sympathetic best, everything unfolds impressively, with a sense of joy in the music-making.

A big work, this, written for the kind of wind ensemble that became popular during the 1780s at the Austrian imperial court and its aristocratic imitators. In fact, the usual combination was of pairs of oboes, clarinets, horns and bassoons, but here Mozart adds two more horns, a pair of bassett horns and a double-bass; the effect is thus even more massive, although his mastery of texture is such that it never feels overblown and a contemporary described this piece as "herrlich und gross, trefflich und her", which the insert-note here translates as "glorious and grand, excellent and sublime".

Since the 13 players here are of the highest quality and Mehta is a sympathetic conductor, everything unfolds impressively, and there is a sense of joy in the music-making. Over and over, I find this playing natural, easy without slickness and expressive (sometimes even passionate) without mannerism. To experience the blend of weight and grace that the music and performance offer, listen to the first Minuet, the second of the five movements. The tempo is just right and the shaping of phrases (not least in the delicately scored first trio and the bouncy secondone) elegant. Altogether, this is playing of distinction. As for the sound of the Adagio which follows, the music which awed Salieri in Shaffer's play Amadeus, this is no less poised. Indeed, here is an excellent performance that is complemented by a clear and atmospheric recording made in the Berlin Philharmonie. Strongly recommended and earning first place among current versions.

-- Gramophone [9/1995]

Franck: Symphony in D Minor, M. 48, Symphonic Variations, M.

SCHUBERT: SYMPHONY NO 9 GIULI

Dvorak's three concertos were written in 1876 (piano), 1883 (violin) and 1894 (cello). Like Gerald Finzi, another transcendental national lyric composer, Dvo?ák's last orchestral work was a cello concerto.

Both works are given the customary weight by the Philadelphian strings. In fact Ormandy encourages a strong symphonic approach to these two works. This is the orchestral equivalent of a sleek Bentley. The Cello Concerto emerges best of the two works. However first to the Violin Concerto. This is a work I have always felt affectionate towards. My reference set is the Supraphon recording with Josef Suk. The Sony has Stern in place of Suk. Stern's touch of schmaltz and flashiness sometimes jars in such a cleanly rustic nationalist work. However there is much to take pleasure in too. At 10.12 in the first movement no-one, not even Suk, achieves that moment of pulse-stilling calm. Another example is the needle-fragile crystal glass dance Stern evokes at the start of the Allegro giocoso. This is a good interpretation but the age of the recording tells against it marginally but noticeably.

Leonard Rose is ripe, noble, brilliant, edgy, resinous of tone and exciting and he brings all the strengths that we know from his Sony recording of the Brahms Double Concerto. The sound quality is a notch or two above that for the other Dvo?ák work on this disc but still grainy in texture.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International