Orchestral & Symphonic CDs
Orchestral & Symphonic CDs
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Rindflesch: Choral Works
An Introduction To Dmitri Shostakovich
This CD combines Shostakovich's most popular symphony with other orchestral hits, including the thrilling 'Festive Overture' and the witty arrangement of Vincent Youman's 'Tea for Two'. The conductor and the soloist in the Piano Concerto No.2 are the composer's son and grandson, giving the performance great authority and representing a unique perspective on the music. Neeme Järvi's Shostakovich CDs with the Scottish National Orchestra are some of the most famous recordings of the digital era. 'Most probably the finest Shostakovich disc ever issued and without doubt my choice.' - Fanfare 'Neeme Järvi's understanding of the bleak world inhabited by Shostakovich's symphonies continues to impress. Chandos' sound is superb as always.' - American Record Guide
Hartmann, K.A.: Simplicius Simplicissimus
Chopin: Complete Works for Piano & Orchestra, Vol. 2
ROMEO & JULIET
Irma Gonzalez: En Vivo, 1945-1965
IRMA GONZÁLEZ LIVE • Irma González (s); 1 Plácido Domingo, 2 Giuseppe di Stefano, 5 Jon Vickers (tn); 3 Oralia Dominguez, 4 Aurora Woodrow (ms); various cond & O • URTEXT 189/90, mono (2 CDs: 141: 42) Live: 1945–65
PUCCINI Madama Butterfly: Che tua madre; Con onor muore. La Bohème: Si, mi chiamano Mimi; Donde lieta usci; Quando m’en vo. Manon Lescaut: In quelle trine morbide. Tosca: Vissi d’arte; 1 O dolci mani. Turandot: Signore, ascolta. MASCAGNI L’Amico Fritz: Son pocchi fiori. LEONCAVALLO Pagliacci: Ballatella. GIORDANO Andrea Chenier: 2 Vicino a te. BOITO Mefistofele: L’altra notte; Spunta l’aurora pallida. BELLINI Norma: 3 Mira, o Norma. MASSENET Manon: Adieu, notre petite table; N’est-ce plus ma main. Hérodiade: Il est doux, il est bon. BIZET Carmen: Je dis que rien. TCHAIKOVSKY Maid of Orleans: Adieu, forêts. VERDI La Traviata: Addio del passato. Aida: O patria mia. Requiem: 4 Recordare. Otello: 5 Già nella notte densa; Era più calmo? … Piangea cantando; Ave Maria. La Forza del Destino: Pace, pace mio Dio. VARIOUS Songs from Meet Me in St. Louis
The long, sad list of exceptional singers who made few or no commercial recordings, from Jean de Reszke to Gilda Cruz-Romo, is now extended by these remarkable live performances over a span of 20 years by Mexican soprano Irma González. Previously, she had appeared on one V-Disc (a Spanish song) and a live performance of the Beethoven Ninth Symphony conducted by Bruno Walter, though there exists one commercial recording: songs by Manuel Ponce and Silvestre Revueltas. This two-CD set of broadcasts and live performances, then, fills a void and introduces us to an operatic soprano of remarkable achievement and artistry. The comparison to Cruz-Romo is especially apt. Like Cruz-Romo, González sang everything from Mozart to Verdi and Puccini, and also like Cruz-Romo, González was more than just a voice, she was an exciting, musical, and consummate artist.
When she made her debut in 1939, Giuseppe di Stefano had not yet sung in public, Jon Vickers had not begun vocal lessons, and Plácido Domingo had not been born, yet she sang with all of them—and with Ezio Pinza, Cesare Valletti, Mario del Monaco, Cesare Siepi, Giulietta Simionato, Grace Bumbry, Ettore Bastianini, Sherrill Milnes, Oralia Dominguez, Boris Christoff, Richard Tucker, and Giuseppe Taddei. There’s a remarkable 1980 video (in color) on YouTube of her singing “In questa reggia” from Turandot, at age 64, with a wonderful Calaf named David Portilla. She worked with such conductors as Kleiber, Klemperer, Ansermet, Casals, Walter, Beecham, and Markevitch. Her voice combined the rich, creamy colors of Renata Tebaldi with the brilliant high range of Marisa Galvany, but she was a more intense interpreter than the former and a more musical and finished vocalist than the latter. In short, she had it all. As a teacher, her most famous pupil was tenor Francisco Araiza. She died in 2008 at the age of 92.
By and large, the singing on this two-CD set is simply extraordinary. It takes one’s breath away. The final phrases of “Vissi d’arte,” for instance, are sung exactly as written, without the usual breaks or distortions that sopranos “traditionally” throw into it. The “Recordare” from the Verdi Requiem, with the little-known mezzo Aurora Woodrow, shows off her melting legato; the Ballatella from Pagliacci and “L’altra notte” from Mefistofele display a fine trill. “O patria mia” showcases her faultless line and extremely musical phrasing. Only once, for me, does she disappoint: Her “Addio del passato” is the healthiest- sounding performance I’ve ever heard, too loud and too insensitive to text. Not bad for a soprano you’ve never heard of before.
Considering that this is a Mexican production, the transfers are fairly good. At least some attempt was made to remove some of the surface noise, but not much, and the high notes are somewhat distorted in places depending on the quality of the original. On CD 2, there are also four errors in transfer: The Hérodiade aria is pitched a whole tone too high, Micaela’s aria from Carmen a quarter-tone too low, “Adieu, forêts” a half-tone high, and the “Recordare” a half-tone low, but when the sound is clear and full, with no distortion or blasting, you can hear the voice in all its glory. The bonus track comes from 1945, when González traveled to New York to record as soundtrack double to Judy Garland in the Mexican version of Meet Me in St. Louis, oddly renamed The Wheel of Fortune. Not too surprisingly, the best conducting comes from the well-known names here: Oliviero de Fabritiis, Carlo Felice Cellario, Anton Guadagno, and Igor Markevitch. The lavish booklet is full of interesting photos, including one with a baby-faced, 21-year-old Domingo, but alas, the text is only in Spanish. Full recording data is on the inside back cover. If you are a lover of outstanding vocal art, this has to be the surprise issue of the year.
FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley
Dvorak: Symphony No 9, Etc / Järvi, Scottish Natl Orch
Recorded in: Henry Wood Hall, Glasgow 1 August 1986 Producer(s) Brian Couzens Sound Engineer(s) Ralph Couzens Philip Couzens [Assistant]
Mahler: Das Lied von der Erde
Ravel Orchestrations - Pictures At An Exhibition, Etc / Oue
Strictly Sousa / Junkin, Dallas Wind Symphony
This selection is a High Definition Compatible Digital (HDCD) recording.
Eugen Suchon: Symfonietta Rustica; Baladicka Suita; Metamorfozy
Life With Czech Music - Janacek, Martinu / Charles Mackerras

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Contains 4 CDs + 1 DVD.
Reviews:
The Cunning Little Vixen, Sinfonietta, Taras Bulba

Charles Mackerras speaks of this set as his last series of Janácek recordings, which is understandable--but let's fervently hope that he hangs around to make many more discs for Supraphon (and other labels). Some of this material has appeared previously in the opera sets: the overtures and interludes to Kát'a Kabanová and Sárka. The rest of the items are new and wonderful. Most interesting for Janácek collectors may be this superb Suite from The Cunning Little Vixen that follows the outline of Talich's arrangement (that is, Act 1 minus the voices) but restores the composer's original orchestration. It's wonderful. Equally wonderful is the performance of Schluck und Jau, certainly its finest on disc, and the same holds true of the Jealousy Overture (a bit messy in the earlier Decca recording).
This performance of the Sinfonietta is thrilling: swifter than the somewhat staid Decca recordings and even more exciting than Mackerras' famous first effort with the Pro Arte Orchestra (now on Testament). He whips up the excitement at such points as the third movement's central climax with uninhibited abandon, and the Czech Philharmonic responds with explosive enthusiasm. The same qualities characterize the second two movements of Taras Bulba; the first is a touch relaxed, not as violent in the battle scene as some others I could name (Ancerl, for example), but it's never slack or self-consciously smooth. The recordings--both live and studio efforts from a variety of venues--sound consistently excellent. Mackerras did more for Janácek than any other conductor living or dead, and it's fitting that he should leave his final thoughts on this music with the Czech Philharmonic and Supraphon. A set not to be missed! [5/4/2004]
– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
DVD - Jealousy, Taras Bulba, Glagolitic Mass
If the idea of watching a Mass on DVD doesn't seem all that inspiring, consider that the work in question is Janácek's powerful Glagolitic Mass. The already enthralling music gains a visceral intensity under Charles Mackerras' masterful and potent conducting. The visual element only heightens the drama, as we see the elegance of the beautifully adorned Dvorák Hall--a fitting setting for this ceremonial music. The cameras also capture the individual performers in their most important passages--Eva Urbanová's impassioned solos, Leo Marian Vodicka's fearsome tenor utterances, as well as Peter Mikuláš' stern bass proclamations. There are well-timed shots of the Prague Philharmonic Choir as well, and of course, the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra, which plays brilliantly. Organist Jan Hora, who gives a virtuoso performance of this all-important part, unfortunately is out of view (we see instead the pipes of his massive instrument). Mackerras, who uses Janácek's restored original score with its more colorful orchestration and raucous percussion parts, conducts vibrantly, with swift tempos making for a rousing occasion.
The Czech Philharmonic is the star of Jealousy (the original prelude to Jenufa) and Taras Bulba, and again it plays marvelously with virtuoso contributions from all sections. Now the camera pinpoints the many instrumental solos as well as individual orchestral sections in critical passages, indicating the video director's familiarity with the score. Mackerras' interpretations have been documented previously on audio-only recordings, perhaps most sumptuously with the Vienna Philharmonic on Decca. The sound on this video version is not so resplendent (it's not something you'd play with the TV off), but it suits the medium well, and it's quite fascinating to see the greatest living Janácek conductor at work. This is one DVD you'll watch many times. [9/13/2005]
– Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com
Double Concerto, Les fresques
The Double Concerto and Les fresques are among Martinu's most satisfying works: behind the cosmopolitan, 'conservative-modern' lingua franca of their language both have a genuine individuality of Utterance, and both have an expressive urgency that repeated hearing intensifies. In the case of the Double Concerto the emotional burden is a brooding disquiet and a stoicism that eloquently reflect the time in which the work was written (1938: it was completed on the very day that the Allies agreed to Germany's annexation of the Sudetenland). In Les fresques there is a rapt, at times ecstatic luminosity, a mystic serenity, even, that is a strikingly apt metaphor for Piero's numinous brightness.
Not surprisingly, both pieces have been quite often recorded, but neither of them is at all easy to conduct or to balance. The proliferation of string lines in the Double Concerto can easily sound confused, and there is the problem of where in the sound picture the pianist should be placed: as a soloist, as continuo-player or as provider of edge and attack to the bass-line (the instrument appears in all three roles). The colours of Les fresques are still more easily dulled, shot and hatched as they so often are by solo instruments: the work demands a difficult combination of transparency and richness. Mackerras and his engineers succeed, so it seems to me, quite admirably in both cases. The tension of the Double Concerto's outer movements is finely sustained, there is great weight and intensity to the fuller pages, but enough power is kept in hand (the wide range of the recording plays a part in this) for the conclusion to be formidably powerful, and the excellent pianist seems always to be in the right perspective.
Les fresques are still finer, if anything: the solo lines characterfully expressive, the brighter colours resplendent, but the eloquent purity that is at the music's centre never obscured. [7/1985]
– Gramophone
SYMPHONIES & PIANO CONCERTO
LATE BACH
THREE POLISH TENORS
Johan Svendsen: Orchestra Works, Vol. 3 / Jarvi, Thorsen, Bergen Philharmonic
SVENDSEN Norwegian Artists’ Carnival, Op. 14. Violin Concerto in A, Op. 61. Two Icelandic Melodies. Symphony No. 1 in D, Op. 4 • Neeme Järvi, cond; 1Marianne Thorsen (vn); Bergen PO • CHANDOS 10766 (74:10)
This is Volume 3 in a series of discs devoted to the orchestral works of a composer who, it’s believed, composed no more than 33 works with opus numbers, of which approximately 21 are orchestral scores, if you count the cantatas for chorus and orchestra. If you don’t count them, then the four works included on this latest installment, added to the 10 included on Volume 1 (see Fanfare 35:5), plus the four included on Volume 2 (Fanfare 36:4), should wrap up this survey, but with Neeme Järvi you never know.
The famous anecdote of the volatile relationship between Svendsen and his American wife ending with her tossing her husband’s manuscript of a Third Symphony into the fire is probably fictional, but it makes for colorful reading. Sketches, however, for what was probably on its way to becoming another symphony were expanded and orchestrated by Norwegian composer Bjørn Morten Christophersen and premiered by the Bergen Philharmonic as recently as 2011. Perhaps in a follow-up album, Järvi will give us Christophersen’s speculative score.
Meanwhile, what we have on the present disc are Svendsen’s First Symphony and a very ambitious Violin Concerto, plus the shorter programmatic pieces, Norwegian Artist’s Carnival and Two Icelandic Melodies. Svendsen is what I would characterize as a Scandinavian generalist. Like his close contemporaries, Grieg and Danish composer C. F. E. Horneman, Svendsen was yet another product of the Leipzig Conservatory, studying violin with Ferdinand David (of Mendelssohn Violin Concerto fame) and composition with Carl Reinecke. But Svendsen’s works that bear national or folkloristic titles, like Norwegian Artist’s Carnival, don’t sound Norwegian the way Grieg’s music does. In fact, in both style and content, there’s little difference between the boisterous, celebratory, dance-like character of the symphony and the Carnival; and listening to the Two Icelandic Melodies, I’m not sure you would know if you were in Iceland or Finland—there’s a hint of Sibelius in the air.
The violin concerto betrays Svendsen’s training as a violinist under David in many places, but it’s not likely to find a niche among the great romantic concertos, firstly because it’s not really much of a virtuoso vehicle, and secondly, because the composer was so symphonically oriented in his approach that, as pointed out by the above Christopherson, who authored the album note, the work is more of a symphony with violin obbligato than it is a concerto, modeled along the lines of Berlioz’s Harold in Italy. It has, however, been recorded before, not that terribly long ago by Lars Bjørnkjær for Danacord, reviewed in 31:6, a disc I’m afraid I don’t have, but also by Arve Tellefsen with the Oslo Philharmonic on a 1990s Norsk Kulturrads Forlag (NKF) CD, which I do have. Though Tellefsen is every bit Marianne Thorsen’s match on the current Chandos release, unfortunately the NKF recording is a bit dull and recessed sounding.
With the exception of the Romance for Violin and Orchestra, the one work which has probably kept Svendsen from slipping below the horizon with the late-setting summer Scandinavian sun, all of the works on this third volume of his orchestral output are pleasant and attractive, and in the capable hands of Neeme Järvi, the Bergen Philharmonic, violinist Marianne Thorsen, and Chandos’s engineers, beautifully played and recorded; but—ah, the inevitable “but”—the musical nourishment Svendsen affords is probably not life-sustaining. Still, if you’re an obsessive collector, as I suspect many of Fanfare’s readers are, and you acquired Volumes 1 and 2 of this Svendsen survey, this third is obligatory.
FANFARE: Jerry Dubins
The Beatles
A SEA SYMPHONY
RACHMANINOV: Symphony No. 2 (Complete Version)
Dyson: The Canterbury Pilgrims - At the Tabard Inn - In Hono
This re-release of The Canterbury Pilgrims forms part of the new Hickox Legacy commemorative series on Chandos Records, leading up to (and continuing beyond) the fifth anniversary, in November 2013, of the conductor's untimely death. The two-disc set is issued for the price of 1 CD. The pioneering account of The Canterbury Pilgrims, a colorful but neglected work by Sir George Dyson, brilliantly depicts assorted characters from the prologues of Chaucer’s famous Canterbury Tales, while highlighting key aspects of Hickox’s recorded legacy: the championing of neglected repertoire in general, and British repertoire in particular, as well as his special affinity with choral music. ‘Chaucer’s amusingly ironic depictions and Dyson’s memorable tunes and imaginative orchestration are a winning combination. If you like Gerontius, Vaughan Williams and Ireland, you’ll like Dyson. Go out and buy this disc *****’. - BBC Music Magazine ‘This is a very fine recording… Every layer in the texture is exceptionally well defined and integrated, which is no mean feat when such elaborate forces – soloists, choir, and orchestra – are involved’ – Gramophone Magazine
Shostakovich: Violin Concertos 1 & 2 / Mordkovitch, Jarvi
It’s easy to slight No. 2’s often austere countenance and relatively sparse textures in favor of No. 1’s wider range of moods, textures, and greater surface virtuosity, yet Mordkovitch proves just as compelling and committed as her mentor David Oistrakh. If anything, she surpasses him in the brooding Adagio, where her slightly slower basic tempo, expressive discretion, and mesmerizingly controlled long legato lines grip you from start to finish. One might prefer a more incisive and playful approach to the Allegro finale, yet here the slippery thematic exchanges between soloist and orchestra convey a sense of gravitas and symphonic integrity that build to overwhelming climaxes.
These qualities also reveal themselves in the First concerto’s great third-movement Passacaglia, where the Scottish brass section achieves a smooth collective blend that still projects the music’s ferocity, matched by Mordkovitch’s perfectly tuned high sustained notes and octaves that both pierce and speak at the same time. Both Mordkovitch and Järvi revel in the Burlesque’s bleak brio and in the Scherzo’s rapid-fire chamber interplay, while the long first movement’s gloomy trajectory unfolds with carefully gauged dynamics and balances, from the low-lying woodwind rumbles to the ethereal celesta and harp intertwining at the end. Chandos’ resonant ambience closely approximates concert hall realism, especially if you’re listening via excellent quality loudspeakers or headphones.
-- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com
Dvorak: Sacred Works & Cantatas
The first version of the oratorio Stabat Mater came into being after the death of his first-born daughter. In the wake of the triumph of its London premiere, Dvorák received more commissions from the UK, which gave rise to other paramount compositions: The Spectre's Bride, Requiem and Saint Ludmila.
The instigation for Te Deum came from New York, where following the premiere of the New World Symphony Dvorák wrote the Biblical Songs, the apex of his oeuvre of this genre. The set also contains pieces that have been seldom performed (the cantata The Heirs of the White Mountain, Psalm 149 in the previously unreleased recording made by the conductor Václav Neumann.).
At the same time, this 8-disc collection within the Dvorák series, featuring gems from the Supraphon archive, showcases superlative artists and performances in sensitively re-mastered sound.
Dvorak: Symphonic Works / Neumann, Czech
Supraphon has finally released Václav Neumann’s 1970s Dvorák symphony cycle, and what a wonderful event it is. These performances are, on the whole, fresher and freer than his digital remakes, fine though those are, and more warmly recorded. The only exception is the somewhat shrill engineering in the First Symphony, but in general the sonics are comparable to other cycles of the period—Kertész, Kubelik, and Rowicki—and this is unquestionably the best played of them all. It’s difficult to overestimate the value of having the Czech Philharmonic in top form in this music, but the sound of the ensemble really does speak for itself. Kubelik’s Berlin Philharmonic might have the best strings, and the London Symphony for Kertész and Rowicki the boldest horns, but the Czech Philharmonic has the best ensemble, top to bottom, at least in Dvorák.
Consider one example: the climax of the first movement of the Seventh Symphony, a work that shows both the orchestra and Neumann at their very best. If you imprinted on this performance, nothing else can match it in power and intensity. The passionate lyricism of the strings, the thrilling low timpani roll that propels the trombones’ upward arpeggio, and those bright, sforzando trumpets combine to make an unforgettable impression (sound clip below), and it’s all exactly as Dvorák wrote it. Interestingly, where Neumann deviates from the printed page, as in the main theme’s fortissimo counterstatement in the first movement, or in the work’s concluding chorale, he gives the doubling parts to the trumpets rather than the horns, as in most other performances, and this too proves the better decision.
This brings us to Neumann’s own contribution. Traditionally he has gotten short shrift compared to the competition. Some of this was politics. In the 1960s and ’70s the British naturally preferred anything featuring the LSO, and Kubelik was a symbol of democratic resistance to Communist rule. He also had the superb Berlin Philharmonic at his disposal, rather than his usual Bavarian Radio forces, and Deutsche Grammophon behind him. Neumann, on LP at least, was spottily available on generally horrible pressings, and he had the disadvantage to be taking over from Ancerl, an indisputably great conductor who wound up on the right side of Cold War politics. Then Neumann remade all the symphonies in digital sound, a set that Supraphon promoted intensely, and this earlier effort simply disappeared from sight.
In general, Neumann’s approach might sound a touch “old fashioned”—quick movements move at moderate speeds, slow movements flow without ever dragging. Although not quite so slow in the allegros, conductors like Otto Klemperer come to mind. And yet, Neumann is by no means lacking in energy. His Eighth Symphony is as fresh (and swift) as any in the catalog. He whips up quite a frenzy in the finale of the Fifth, and this Third Symphony might just be the best on disc. Its first movement is as energetic as can be, the central funeral march is gorgeous and never stiff, while the finale actually sounds less mechanical at this moderate speed than it does when taken more quickly. The Sixth seldom has been paced more naturally, and as Dvorák fans all know, Ancerl’s benchmark performance is a tough act to follow. Neumann has nothing to fear from the comparison, especially in the coda of the finale, which is stunning.
Neumann always did well by the “New World” Symphony, and in only a few spots in the first two symphonies does Neumann sound less than fully engaged (though in the former, he’s still more effective than in his digital remake). The third movement of the Second, particularly, needs to be crisper. Suitner on Berlin Classics is unmatched here. For the most part, though, Neumann’s performances have held up extremely well. In particular, he offers an object lesson in phrasing and, especially, the correct use of legato in lyrical passages. So many performances today, perhaps encouraged by the perpetual staccato of the early music movement, break up Dvorák’s melodies into fragments, whereas Neumann conducts in whole paragraphs.
The couplings add greatly to this set’s attractions. They are uniformly excellent. The Symphonic Variations overflows with character; the three concert overtures belong together (they share a theme, heard at the outset of In Nature’s Realm), and these versions of the four late symphonic poems rank with the best available. They are also very well recorded. So to summarize, this is a set that no one who cares about Dvorák’s symphonies can afford to ignore. Even if you have the versions just mentioned, these performances really do belong in every serious collection.
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Elgar: The Dream of Gerontius; Parry: Blest Pair of Sirens; I Was Glad / Hickox
Ives: Orchestral Works, Vol. 2 / Davis, Melbourne Symphony
Andrew Davis deserves credit for differentiating the first three movements in a way that prevents monotony–a function of flowing tempos and carefully delineated string textures–while still letting Ives’ cacophony sound aptly cacophonous. Only the unnamed chorus at the end of Thanksgiving could have enjoyed greater prominence, but it’s no big deal. For all we know the singers might be members of the orchestra, which is just fine. The tune, “Duke Street” is still used in the New Haven Protestant churches. I know because when I was in high school in New Haven we sang it there, although not at Thanksgiving.
This performance of Three Places in New England is also first rate, with a rambunctious middle movement and a particularly poetic account of The Housatonic at Stockbridge. The Unanswered Question is basically unkillable (although it has been done), although I’m not sure why it’s separated from its companion piece, Central Park in the Dark, by the Three Places. That was gratuitous, but it hardly matters and you can always play the music in any order you choose. This being Ives, it hardly matters. Fine sonics round out a very desirable release.
– ClassicsToday (David Hurwitz)
