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Belle epoque / Wauwe, Bloch, Lille National Orchestra
Troika / Haimovitz, O'Riley
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REVIEW:
Haimovitz and O’Riley really go to town—specifically, Moscow. The ‘Troika’ of their stylishly presented double-disc set comprises the three cello sonatas by Rachmaninov, Shostakovich, and Prokofiev, as well as a dizzying transcription of the eponymous lollipop from Prokofiev’s Lieutenant Kijé—one of a series of spectacular virtuoso transcriptions that range from Shostakovich’s now ubiquitous Waltz No 2 to explosive versions of songs by Pussy Riot and The Beatles (‘Back in the USSR’, naturally).
Apparently there’s a political thesis behind these choices, but what really speaks is Haimovitz and O’Riley’s playing in the three sonatas. These are emotionally charged readings on the grandest scale. Haimovitz in particular plays with an articulate, vibrato-rich tone that he can refine down to an almost viola-like mellowness in, say, the Andante of the Rachmaninov, or send soaring and swooping (no shortage of portamento here) round O’Riley’s mountains of piano sound.
– Gramophone
Orbit: Music for Solo Cello (1945-2014) / Haimovitz
The album documents Matt Haimovitz’s musical journey since the turn of the millennium, together with his partner in life and music, composer Luna Pearl Woolf. It contains nearly all of the solo contemporary works that were initially released on Oxingale Records as five thematic albums - Anthem (2003), Goulash! (2005), After Reading Shakespeare (2007), Figment (2009) and Matteo (2011), as well as two newly recorded tracks: Philip Glass’s “Orbit” and a new arrangement by Luna Pearl Woolf of the Beatles’ “Helter Skelter”. More than twenty composers are represented in this set, fifteen of them still living, and ten works are recorded for the very first time.
This impressive solo cello odyssey offers the listener a fascinating kaleidoscope of musical influences from the past sixty years, encountering a variety of composers who range in musical style from vanguards Elliott Carter and Philip Glass to young, rock ‘n roll-influenced American composers, to the Italian avant-garde of Luciano Berio and Salvatore Sciarrino: a true 20th century Tower of Babel.
Schubert: Winterreise / Bostridge, Ades
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REVIEW:
In the first song, Gute Nacht, you notice right off how Bostridge’s dynamics are subtly chosen and applied, his sense for drama very sensitive to the emotional flow of the music and text, and how his diction is very clear here and throughout. Adès plays with the appropriate somberness and an emphatic manner, his accenting and dynamics quite effective in conveying a feeling of sadness and emerging desperation.
– MusicWeb International
Bates: The (R)evolution of Steve Jobs / Christie, Santa Fe Opera
In their astounding new opera The (R)evolution of Steve Job, composer Mason Bates and librettist Mark Campbell explore the spiritual evolution of one of the most influential men of modern times as he creates a revolutionary new world of technological empowerment, then discovers a larger world within himself. Like Steve Jobs, composer Mason Bates is an innovator whose creativity breaks through boundaries, combining traditional orchestration with electronics in ways that have made him one of the most sought-after and widely programmed composers in the United States. In The (R)evolution of Steve Jobs, Bates and Campbell give us an alternative and intimate perspective of a public life, examining the people and experiences that shaped Steve Jobs: his father, his Buddhist practice, his rise and fall as an executive, and finally his marriage to the woman who showed him the power of human connection.
Bruckner: Symphony No 7 / Kreizberg, Vienna SO
Kreizberg then demonstrates that this symphony, unlike several by the composer, changes from solemnity to robust affirmation in its two shorter and concluding movements. After a fast and boisterous Scherzo, we hear a suitably Haydnesque finale, full of playfulness and affirmation. In sum, this is a first-rate Bruckner Seventh, sounding very good in stereo and even better in multichannel SACD mode. Its measured pacing in the first two movements, along with the use of modern instruments, make it a quite different affair from the recent and highly praised Herreweghe recording for Harmonia Mundi, also available as an SACD, with its original instruments and brisk tempos. More dramatic recordings exist, to be sure: one thinks of several deceased masters—to name a few, Eugen Jochum, Günter Wand, Georg Tintner, Hans Knappertsbusch, Kurt Eichhorn, Wilhelm Furtwängler, Otto Klemperer, and Kurt Sanderling. But Kreizberg’s thoughtful and superbly executed interpretation deserves a wide hearing.
Robert McColley, FANFARE
YOUTH SYMPHONIES
Schmidt: Symphony No 4, Etc / Kreizberg, Netherlands Po
At long last, Franz Schmidt’s magnificent Fourth Symphony is becoming a staple of the CD catalog, if not the concert hall. The mournful, nostalgic, yearning score, an elegy for a dead daughter and a dying culture (Vienna, 1934), is one of the last great gestures of the Romantic era. It’s Strauss without the bombast, Mahler without the neuroses. This 45-minute dirge received only one recording during the mono era, and then only one pre-digital stereo treatment—one of its best versions, by Zubin Mehta and the Vienna Philharmonic. That Decca recording, from about 1971, remains one of the finest things Mehta has ever done. I don’t mean that to sound like damning with faint praise; Mehta is far from my favorite conductor, but with this score and the Vienna Philharmonic he drew on emotional resources that would elude him later in his career. For its balance of sorrow, anguish, and uneasy peace, the Mehta recording has never quite been bettered. L’udovít Rajter and the Bratislava Radio Orchestra made the symphony’s first digital recording, in 1987, as part of an Opus cycle that produced the first decent versions of Schmidt’s first two symphonies (they and the Third are much sunnier works than the Fourth). Rajter’s Fourth was honorable, but was no longer necessary when Mehta finally appeared on CD and other better-played versions came along. Those latter include Franz Welser-Möst and the London Philharmonic (EMI, 1994), followed within a couple of years by Martin Sieghart and the Bruckner Orchestra of Linz (Chesky) and Neeme Järvi and the Detroit Symphony (Chandos). Members of the London Philharmonic nicknamed Welser-Möst “Frankly Worse than Most,” which is surely an overstatement, although in this lineup he’s better only than Rajter; even so, his disc is valuable for its inclusion of Schmidt’s Variations on a Hussar’s Song, otherwise available only on a hard-to-find Preiser CD. Sieghart is surprisingly competitive, perhaps edging out Järvi to come in a close second to Mehta.
Now, just at the dawn of the SACD era, we already have a first-rate new version of Schmidt’s Fourth in superb surround sound from Yakov Kreizberg and the Netherlands Philharmonic on PentaTone. The recorded sound is a bit distant, but detailed (clear enough to reveal an occasional grunt from the podium). More important, Kreizberg’s performance breathes nicely, with a natural rubato that makes its effect over large musical paragraphs more than through individual phrases. It isn’t quite my Schmidt ideal; the big climax about six minutes into the Molto vivace, which is effectively the third movement, could be marginally more cataclysmic. (An aside: The chorale just after this point would have been a better place than three minutes from the end to begin track 4, since the chorale introduces what is essentially the symphony’s recapitulation if you regard the work as one massive sonata-allegro movement.) Also, Kreizberg could have wrung more passion out of the little climax about two-and-a-half minutes from the end, the symphony’s last cry before it dies away into the bereft trumpet solo with which it began. But these are small points, and Kreizberg joins Sieghart just marginally behind Mehta.
Perhaps tipping the judgment to Kreizberg, besides the modern five-channel sound (the CD can also be played in two-channel stereo on a regular player), is the inclusion of three orchestral bits from Schmidt’s opera Notre Dame (as in the Victor Hugo novel known in English as The Hunchback of Notre Dame). The lush, string-centered, harp-haloed Intermezzo has been recorded many times before, most notably in a voluptuous, daringly slow Karajan version on EMI, but the Introduction and “Carnival Music” are comparative rarities. I’ve encountered these three pieces together as a suite only on an Opus/Musical Heritage Society LP by Rajter and the Slovak Philharmonic, where the music was inexactly billed as “Carnival and Intermezzo.” The suite is a welcome addition to this disc, but it should have come first rather than last; Schmidt’s devastating Symphony No. 4 should be followed only by silence.
James Reel, FANFARE
Shostakovich: Symphony No 15 Op 141, Hamlet Op 32 / Pletnev, Et Al
Mikhail Pletnev remains a cypher. Remember how rapturously his first major recording as a conductor, Tchaikovsky's Sixth on Virgin, was greeted? Then he went on to do all the symphonies for DG, and the result was the dullest cycle in history. His Beethoven, on the other hand, was simply perverse: not interestingly perverse, but stupidly perverse. Of course this didn't stop equally stupidly perverse critics from praising it, but that's another story altogether.
Now he turns in a very fine Shostakovich 15th. It has something of the balletic grace that made his initial Pathétique so attractive. The lyrical passages in the second movement and the main theme of the finale have a poised beauty that really is quite striking. Similarly, his light textures in the first movement's "toy" music, as well as the scherzo, tickle the ear and keep the music buoyant.
There is a price, of course, in terms of sharpness of focus and power at the climaxes, not to mention emotional intensity. The xylophone and whip don't cut as they might, and the Wagner quotations in the finale lack a certain atmosphere, but the otherworldly textural clarity that Pletnev achieves in the movement's central passacaglia remains very special. In fact, his relative coolness suits this "spacey" music particularly well.
The coupled Hamlet excerpts do not come from the more familiar film score, but comprise a suite taken from the much earlier incidental music. It's typical youthful Shostakovich: pithy, bright, angular, and lots of fun. It requires little beyond sprightly tempos and a literal reading of the notes to make a fine impression, and that's just what the music receives here. PentaTone's sonics are, like the performance, clear, well-balanced, and a touch lacking in body, whether in stereo or multichannel surround formats. A very recommendable disc.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Getty: Plump Jack
Dvorak, Lalo: Cello Concertos / Moser, Hrusa, Prague Philharmonia
German-Canadian international soloist Johannes Moser recently signed an exclusive recording contract with Pentatone. For his debut Pentatone recording, he chose to record the pinnacle of repertoire for cello and orchestra, Dvorak’s Cello Concerto in B minor. In this monumental work Dvorak explores the entire spectrum of human emotion, very much inspired by his own experiences, ranging from exhilarating bursts of life in New York City to the devastating tragedy of his unfulfilled love. Moser completes his debut album with the Cello Concerto by Edouard Lalo. It is a work of great verve that fully embodies Spanish flair combined with romantic spirit.
The Aeolian Organ at Duke University Chapel / Jacobson
This SACD from Pentatone showcases the Aeolian Op. 1785 of Duke University Chapel, built between 1931 and 1932. It boasts four manuals, 81 stops, 102 ranks and, as Mike Foley points out in his absorbing booklet essay, some of the largest-scaled pipes ever to leave the firm’s factory in Garwood, New Jersey. This was Aeolian’s last independent project – they were taken over by rivals Skinner in 1932 – but the Op. 1785 saga doesn’t end there. Thanks to a public outcry the organ was saved from replacement in the 1980s and restored by Foley-Baker Inc. in 2008.
Listening to this disc I can only say it would have been a tragedy to lose an instrument of this calibre. It’s played here by Christopher Jacobson FRCO, chapel organist and a widely travelled recitalist. The recording is by Soundmirror, the Boston-based company that’s become something of a byword for engineering excellence. Among their high-profile projects are the Rachmaninov All-Night Vigil with Charles Bruffy and his fine choirs (Chandos) and several well-reviewed recordings with Manfred Honeck and the Pittsburgh Symphony (Reference Recordings). John Newton is the recording engineer on this release, with Mark Donahue responsible for mixing and mastering.
There’s no better curtain raiser than Finlandia, Sibelius’s stirring hymn to nascent nationhood. It’s given here in an arrangement by H. A. Fricker, who took over from William Spark as Civic Organist at Leeds Town Hall in 1898. He gave twice-weekly recitals on the hall’s Gray & Davison – free downstairs, 6d in the gallery – which, if his arrangement of this Sibelian showstopper is anything to go by, must have been hugely entertaining.
Jacobson’s account of the piece is huge too, but his playing is very well judged in terms of scale, articulation, rhythm and colour. As for the sound of this mighty beast it’s simply stupendous; the pedals – skull and rafter rattling – are probably as close to ‘being there’ as one’s ever likely to get, and the rest of the instrument’s range is just as well caught. Happily there’s no detail-obscuring echo and the wide, deep soundstage avoids the fatiguing ‘wall of sound’ that afflicts so many organ recordings. In any event this is a demonstration-quality track that’s will give your woofers a workout, impress your friends and annoy the neighbours.
That’s all very well, but albums such as this work best when the programme is varied in terms of scale, mood and style, each piece illuminating a different aspect of the organ’s character. The glorious surge and swell of Howells’ Rhapsody has never sounded so thrilling, its quieter passages so radiant. Then again this organ speaks with a warm, honest voice that suits this music very nicely. The ensuing excerpt from French composer-organist André Fleury’s Organ Symphony No. 2 shows just how clean-limbed this Aeolian is. What a delightful performance, brimming with quiet brilliance and firm but gentle rhythms.
The British composer-organist Edwin Lemare is probably best known for his transcriptions. Among the most popular and poignant of these is the Irish Tune from County Derry, immortalised as Danny Boy. My go-to version of the piece is on Warner-EMI’s Unforgettable Organ Classics, with Noel Rawsthorne at the organ of Coventry Cathedral. Poised, cleanly articulated and not at all sentimentalised that performance is hard to beat. As it happens heartfelt playing, apt registrations and a superb recording make Jacobson’s version very special too.
The most substantial work on this disc are the Trois Préludes et Fugues by the great French composer, organist and improviser Marcel Dupré. I’m more used to hearing these virtuoso pieces on a Cavaillé-Coll, but this awesome Aeolian certainly gives M. Aristide’s behemoths a run for their money. The contrapuntal writing is clear and well focused, as are those magnificent panoplies of sound. Perhaps others play the Op. 7 with a little more panache – daring, even – but Jacobson’s steady, thoughtful progress has its own rewards. Most important, perhaps, is that he scales and paces this music with great authority and skill.
After all that showmanship the lovely cadences of Vaughan Williams’ Rhosymedre (Lovely), based on a Welsh hymn tune by John David Edwards (1805-1885), find the organ at its full, open-hearted best. What a lovely, embraceable instrument this is, and how impeccably behaved. Even in ceremonial mode, as in Gloucester Cathedral organist and composer Herbert Brewer’s Marche Héroïque, this Aeolian processes with a quiet dignity that’s so utterly British. Once again the recording team capture all the fanfare and unfettered dynamics of this extraordinary instrument.
That’s followed by something very different: Jesus Loves Me, US composer William Bolcom’s spare but rather affecting take on the well-known children’s hymn. But this recital ends as it began with a guaranteed crowd-pleaser; it’s the French master Eugène Gigout’s Grand Chœur Dialogué in Scott McIntosh’s bold, bracing arrangement for organ and brass. The steel and sting of the Amalgam Ensemble makes for a thrilling contrast with the warm, weighty organ. What a knock-out; indeed, if an audience were present this spirited sign-off would surely elicit a spontaneous roar of approbation.
Goodness, I haven’t enjoyed an organ recital so much since Reference Recordings’ Organ Polychrome. A fabulous instrument, superbly played and recorded; an absolute must for organ fans.
– MusicWeb International (Dan Morgan)
Schumann, Dvorak: Piano Concertos / Helmchen, Albrecht
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A very nice coupling, this. Martin Helmchen's natural phrasing and lightness of touch serves both pieces very well. He shapes the fluid lines in Schumann's first movement effortlessly, and Marc Albrecht goads the orchestra to a fiery response that makes the work a real dialog between two distinct characters. The Intermezzo has plenty of charm without ever turning coy, while the finale's surging rhythms are confidently projected but never rushed. The only negative point (in both works) concerns the timidity of the orchestral brass and timpani, slightly at odds with the energy of the interpretations themselves.
It's so good to see Dvorák's lovely concerto getting more attention these days--a great work that never deserved its neglect. Like many pianists, Helmchen plays a cross between the original piano part and Kurz's revision, but to his credit he abjures much of the thickened chordal writing that supposedly better balances the solo against the orchestra (nonsense!). This proves a considerable advantage, particularly in the Andante. Perhaps the finale slows down a touch too much in the middle, before the final return to Tempo I, but otherwise, and like the Schumann, this is a winning performance in just about all respects. The engineering is very good too. Recommended.
– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Schubert: Last Piano Sonatas / Piemontesi
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REVIEW:
Piemontesi’s instinctive good taste means he never indulges in histrionics, and operates on the principle that understatement can carry more emotional power than its converse. This performance of D958 is the best I have ever heard. His D959 exhibits the same virtue. The D960, recorded live and technically immaculate, is glorious.
– BBC Music Magazine
Beethoven: Symphonies No 5 And 8 / Herreweghe, Et Al
BEETHOVEN Symphonies: No. 5; No. 8 • Philippe Herreweghe, cond; Royal Flemish P • PENTATONE 5186 316 (Multichannel hybrid SACD: 54:16)
This disc represents Volume 2 of a set of the complete Beethoven symphonies currently in progress (the first volume, on the Talent label, included Symphonies 4 and 7 and was reviewed by Colin Anderson in 29:2). In a clumsily translated note Herreweghe refers to “nature” trumpets and “Baroque kettle drums with modern tuning”; these would appear to be the only concessions to period practice—by all accounts, the Royal Flemish orchestra employs modern instruments. This series would appear, then, to be comparable to the latest set conducted by Roger Norrington, with the orchestra of the Stuttgart Radio, on Hänssler.
Unlike Norrington, Herreweghe is unhampered by a tendency toward extreme tempos or self-conscious gestures. Though the tempos of the Fifth Symphony are analogous in swiftness to those of Benjamin Zander on his splendid Telarc recording, there is no sense of the kind of schizoid recklessness that marred Norrington’s Fifth, in which a furious first-movement exposition followed a more sensibly paced opening motto. What we hear instead is a superbly performed and exciting rendering of Beethoven’s war-horse. Orchestral execution is everything one could wish for, with crisp phrasing and spirited ensemble. The conducting illuminates the genius of the conception without in any way calling attention to itself.
In the slow movement, Herreweghe expertly conveys the sense of forward momentum without scrimping on the lyrical richness of Beethoven’s melodic invention. There is no sense of bombast in the triumphant finale, just a very satisfying feeling of rightness—for Beethoven’s creation and for this recreation of it. Herreweghe includes the first movement exposition repeat but follows Beethoven’s revision and eliminates the one in the Scherzo. The sound is resonant yet precise, antiphonal violins aiding in the natural balance. The listener’s perspective is intimate but not airless, allowing for atmosphere and impact. One interesting anomaly: the oboe extends the cadenza in the first movement recapitulation, replacing the one Beethoven wrote, but I found this to be an interesting and idiomatic gesture.
Herreweghe injects a muscular element, propelled by the timpani, into the Eighth Symphony, invigorating what has sometimes in the past been simply a lighthearted romp; there is lightness here, too, but the overall feeling is of vitality. Norrington, by contrast, tends to lurch through the first movement, so that whatever humor there is seems heavy-handed. The sound production he received possesses less resonant fullness than that on the PentaTone disc; strings, for one example, often sound thin and scrappy on the Hänssler CD.
The elegant little Allegretto, under Herreweghe’s hands, verges on the slightly pompous, while the third movement minuet becomes, for all intents and purposes, a scherzo, full of badly placed accents and miscues—all of which, in the words of annotator Tom Janssesns, “indicated that the Classical symphony now truly belonged to the past.” We are then propelled into the finale and its sprightly touches that clearly point to the future, and especially to Mendelssohn. Herreweghe and his Belgian colleagues dispatch the piece with panache.
This is a delightful and highly entertaining disc containing two fine performances of music that never sounds tired or routine. I look forward to the next installment with keen anticipation.
FANFARE: Christopher Abbot
Schumann: Symphonic Etudes, Forest Scenes, Arabesque / Helmchen
SCHUMANN Waldszenen, Op. 82; Symphonische Etüden, Op. 13; Arabeske, Op. 18 • Martin Helmchen (pn) • PENTATONE 5186 452 (SACD: 60:52)
Martin Helmchen is a name which is probably new to no one: He has won numerous awards (including first prize in the Clara Haskil Competition in 2001), has worked with numerous illustrious orchestras, among them the Deutsche Sinfonie-Orchester Berlin, the Royal Flemish Philharmonic, the BBC Symphony Orchestra, the Vienna Philharmonic, and various chamber orchestras around Europe, with such master conductors as Marek Janowski, Philippe Herreweghe, Valery Gergiev, and Bernhard Klee. He has partnered in chamber music recitals with Boris Pergamenschikow, Heinrich Schiff, Gidon Kremer, Christian Tetzlaff, Daniel Hope, and Lars Vogt, among many others. He is, in other words, a fabulous instrumentalist. And that is clear from the current recital.
The opening Waldszenen is for me the highlight of the disc. Here Helmchen is calm and reserved for the most part: The Eintritt here acts as not just an entranceway into the piece, but into the program as a whole. Oddly, when comparing it to Volodos’s version on his live recital from Vienna, Volodos seems to shade more sweetly than does Helmchen, but Helmchen does not see the piece in the same way: Here he captures an amazing simplicity akin to the C-Major Prelude in Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier Book I. His continuity of sound is entrancing. Verrufene Stelle evokes perfectly the odd, almost twisted quality of those ill-reputed places which Schumann musically describes so perfectly. Of course the highlight for most people is the strange and enigmatic Vogel als Prophet . While there is hardly a pianist out there capable of attaining the magical atmosphere of this piece as well as Alfred Cortot did, Helmchen does as admirable a job as many. The chorale-like middle section sounds as odd in this performance as it should, stopping the piece in midtrack, appearing and then disappearing just as quickly. The Symphonische Etüden, performed here with the five Anhang variations interspersed throughout the cycle, works well: The extra variations seem as though they truly belong to the cycle. It is far more satisfying to hear them this way than performed together at the conclusion of the opus proper. Here Helmchen alters his sound to fit his conception of the work. This is no longer light-hearted fare. This is as heavy and brooding as Schumann gets. And perhaps Helmchen here plays the work a bit too poised, too “normal” for my tastes. I tend to like my Schumann ever more schizophrenic in its rhythmic intricacies and eccentric in its numerous sforzandi . Helmchen plays the work a bit lighter than I would like, making it sound almost like Mendelssohn, yet there are moments when this works beautifully: Etude III and even Variation V sound as though they are lost parts of Mendelssohn’s Variations sérieuses here. The C-Major Arabeske brings us back to the light-hearted world of the opening, acting as both conclusion and encore. The pianist plays it simply: smooth, flowing, and tender. With bonus SACD quality sound, PentaTone has done it again. This one’s a keeper.
FANFARE: Scott Noriega
Starring Christmas / Neary, Winchester Cathedral Choir
The sacred space of Winchester Cathedral has echoed to music every day for almost a thousand years, inspiring worshippers and visitors alike. Winchester Cathedral is home to a Cathedral Choir which, under the leadership of Martin Neary, was internationally regarded as one of the greatest choirs of England.
in 1973, Philips Classics brought out an album of Christmas carols in its series of quadraphonic recordings with the Winchester Cathedral Choir directed by Neary. PentaTone has digitally remastered this essential recording using DSD technology and is now releasing it in superb surround sound, as part of its RQR series.
Franck & Strauss: Sonatas for Violin & Piano
Tchaikovsky Symphony No 4, Romeo And Juliet / Pletnev, Russian National Orchestra
TCHAIKOVSKY Symphony No. 4. Romeo and Juliet • Mikhail Pletnev, cond; Russian Natl O • PENTATONE 5186 384 (SACD: 60:19)
This is not a reissue from the mid-1990s cycle on DG (recently repackaged in a bargain box), but a brand new recording. I don’t know if it portends a second complete cycle from Pletnev, but on this evidence that would be most welcome.
His overall conception of the symphony has not changed radically since DG in 1995, with many of the same distinctive interpretive touches. But everything is now in sharper focus, more acutely characterized, more subtle in nuance. Tempos are significantly faster in all four movements, and the DG now leaves a comparatively flat, bland impression.
Having said that, the reading will still not be to all tastes—Karajanesque in its extreme refinement, with legato suaveness of style, smoothed-out attacks, and rounding of staccato articulations. At the same time there is a balletic grace and an aristocratic quality reminiscent of Mravinsky. To a surprising degree, Pletnev’s conception of the first movement minimizes contrast between the first and second themes—the former phrased with wondrous subtlety, the latter taken very fast and smoothly. In the B-Major third theme the dead-center tuning of the soft timpani is a real (and rare) pleasure. The development is played for transparency, the buildup into the recapitulation tightly controlled, but projecting a remarkable sense of simmering power under the surface. The coda has an extraordinary feathery beauty, sinuously shaped even in the fff affirmations of the last page. Of the Old School Russian sound there is barely any hint, though a subtle trace of the old trademark horn vibrato remains in the recapitulation of the second theme. In Pletnev’s hands the Andante is a cool study in understated blue-grays; the pizzicato scherzo velvet in tone, shaped with exquisite subtlety. In the finale he radically downplays the bombast, with light, transparent balancing of the massive textures, and graceful, shapely phrasing.
Cool transparency is again the watchword in the slow introduction to Romeo and Juliet —though for all the avoidance of old-style Russian excess, the players’ national ancestry still seems to come through in an intensely characterful, nasal quality to the string sound at bars 11 ff. The Allegro giusto memorably combines silky refinement and rhythmic snap; the love theme has an icy tonal purity to the strings, with a concentrated, highly individual shaping of the line that really is quite special. The theme’s climactic reprise similarly demonstrates a remarkable balance of aristocratic poise and impulsive surge, again with a suggestive hint (but no more) of old-style Russian brass vibrato.
The recording balances a realistic concert hall perspective with exemplary sharp focus of detail (I can’t comment on the surround sound). Altogether superbly distinctive, and well worth adding to your collection even if you already own the DG versions.
FANFARE: Boyd Pomeroy
Mozart, Rossini: Arrangements For Wind Instruments / Netherlands Wind Ensemble
What is there to say? The playing, as usual from this group, is terrific, and of course the tunes are great. The only issue is whether or not wind arrangements of famous melodies from these two operas appeals to you in the first place. They were created, obviously, as background music, the sort of thing you might hear at an aristocratic soirée, or in a kiosk stuck in the middle of a park—music for a more gracious age. The remastered sound is fine, but I never listen to quad-turned-into-multichannel productions in surround sound. Experience has taught me that they come across far more naturally in regular stereo. You can’t go wrong here if the repertoire appeals to you.
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com
Gordon: The House Without A Christmas Tree / Moore, Houston Grand Opera
Precocious Addie Mills is smart and energetic, just like the mother she never knew. Addie has no idea why her father resents the holidays so intensely, refusing even to allow a Christmas tree in the house. But when she brings home a tree she won in a school contest, it paves the way for a miracle of sorts—her father’s broken soul is transformed. The House without a Christmas Tree, a new opera by Ricky Ian Gordon and Royce Vavrek that premiered at Houston Grand Opera in 2017, is based on the book by Gail Rock and the beloved 1972 television movie of the same name. Ricky Ian Gordon (b. 1956 in Oceanside, NY) studied piano, composition and acting, at Carnegie Mellon University. After moving to New York City, he quickly emerged as a leading writer of vocal music that spans art song, opera, and musical theater. Mr. Gordon’s songs have been performed and or recorded by such internationally renowned singers as Renee Fleming, Dawn Upshaw, Judy Collins, Kelli O’Hara, Audra MacDonald, Kristin Chenoweth, Andrea Marcovicci, and the late Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, among many others. Royce Vavrek is a Canada-born, Brooklyn-based librettist and lyricist who has been called “the indie Hofmannsthal” (The New Yorker) a “Metastasio of the downtown opera scene” (The Washington Post), “an exemplary creator of operatic prose” (The New York Times), and “one of the most celebrated and sought after librettists in the world” (CBC Radio). His opera “Angel’s Bone” with composer Du Yun was awarded the 2017 Pulitzer Prize for Music.
Ein Engel in der Nacht: Eine musikalische Erzählung
Shostakovich: Symphony No. 7 / Jarvi, Russian National Orchestra
Reviews:
Paavo Järvi's Leningrad is the opposite of his father's 1988 epic with the Scottish National Orchestra - light, laconic and sonically lean where Neeme's recording was spectacularly big in every way.
– BBC Music Magazine
Järvi and his engineers offer ruthless clarity and precision, exposing a rogue E flat clarinet with a flash of the theme at one point (never heard that before) and lacerating flutter-tongued trumpets as the shock and awe peaks…there is no denying the excellence of the playing.
– Gramophone
Bach: Violin Concertos / Eschkenazy, Ogrintchouk, Concertgebouw Chamber Orchestra
There is very little to criticise here, and these are all very fine performances. The sound is pretty crisp supporting an historically informed approach with brisk tempi, a discretely balanced harpsichord helping things along and admirable transparency of texture and articulation. Perhaps the orchestral sound could be a little better defined, with the strings behind the soloists sounding a bit generalised even in SACD mode, but this is a minor point. Brisk tempi means we don’t have the same kind of profundity in the beautiful Largo, ma non tanto second movement of the Double Concerto, but we’ve moved on from the kinds of romantic atmosphere beloved of David and Igor Oistrakh. This is a kind of mixture between worlds, with fairly rich vibrato in the solo lines to go along with the early-music flavour of the general approach. Comparing with Monica Huggett and Alison Bury with Ton Koopman on the Erato label shows very similar timings but a far lighter, chamber-music sonority and a reluctance to play with legato lines. Tighter rhythms and a livelier sonic picture can be found on the BIS label, where Masaaki Suzuki’s Bach Collegium Japan make a superb job of these concertos on BIS-CD-961, showing how the orchestra can play a more pro-active role while almost turning the soloists into consort members rather than giving them their more usual prominence.
So much of what will turn you on in such recordings is a question of taste, and to my ears there is nothing which offends in this Pentatone Bach recording. BWV 1043 doesn’t quite bring a tear to the eye as it can do with some versions, but I still like it a great deal. The solo violin concertos BWV 1041 and BWV 1042 move along decently, though the rhythms might have been a bit more bouncy in the outer movements. The first movement of BWV 1041 for instance, has an intensely narrative feel which Suzuki obtains in his BIS recording, but which is a touch soggy here - a sensation which comes from that rather generalised backing to the soloist. Timings are a little longer, but not in any extreme way. I love Eschkenazy’s restraint in the Andante of BWV 1041, and his gorgeously humane solo lines are ultimately the main selling point of this particular set.
The final D minor concerto BWV 1060, the one reconstructed from a C minor concerto for two harpsichords works well in this recording, with Ogrintchouk’s rich oboe tone mixing very nicely with the strings and Eschkenazy’s partnering solo, brought down a little in the balance to combine on an equal footing and keep a realistic balance with the orchestra.
To conclude, this is a highly desirable recording of the Bach violin concertos, but alas won’t become my all-time favourite. I enjoy the period sound and all of the solo playing, but the somewhat anonymous orchestral backing detracts a little from the overall effect. It’s a different prospect, but Masaaki Suzuki’s more inclusive ensemble is more satisfying to my ears, though admittedly fitting less into conventional expectations of the ‘concerto’ format. In the end, there is no real problem with this recording other than that there are so many others jostling for our attention. The SACD aspect is an attraction, but doesn’t solve that mildly beige orchestral tapestry which prevents me from making this a list of purely admiring superlatives.
-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International
