*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

Wanda Landowska's reputation as a harpsichordist obscures her considerable achievements as a pianist, especially in regard to these extraordinary Mozart recordings, made at her Lakeville, Connecticut home in 1956. The sound is on the dry side, and Landowska's reposeful, intimately scaled readings rarely exceed mezzo-forte. Yet her seemingly infinite gradations of shading and touch, her immaculate control and timing, plus her well-considered and expressive embellishments (try the K. 333 sonata first movement's exposition for a few elaborate surprises) add up to a master class in style from which many of today's historic-minded interpreters can learn and benefit.

A singing impulse consistently governs Landowska's liquid trills, proportioned rubatos, and finely tuned balances between the hands that ensure no dead spots. She arpeggiates chords with the utmost specificity, abetted by a masterful and sophisticated finger legato technique. As a result, she employs the sustain pedal sparingly and tellingly. Although these performances were reissued on CD only by RCA Japan, they now gain a welcome lease on life courtesy of Arkivmusic.com's "on demand" reprint program. Notes are in Japanese only.

--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

The first work here is Mozart's 'Second' Flute Concerto, a 1778 reworking in D major of an Oboe Concerto in C major, K271k, composed a year earlier. Commissioned to compose three concertos for an amateur flautist called Dr Ferdinand Dejean, a scientist in the service of the Dutch East India Company, he was unhappy about his task; ''I become quite powerless when I am obliged to write for an instrument which I cannot bear'', he told his father in a letter at the time. But predictably he did a good compositional job on this work and also on the G major, K313, which was written directly for the flute at much the same time, and it is tempting to believe that the composer would have had a kinder view of James Galway's refined modem instrument.

Galway is of course a master, and he draws faithful playing from the musicians of the Chamber Orchestra of Europe so that Mozart's music comes across positively. The flute is well balanced too with the orchestra of two oboes, two horns and strings. The recording (made in London's Conway Hall in December 1984 and July 1985) is reverberant, with dynamics on the loud side and a boomy bass, as if the double-basses in particular have been artificially boosted—this is especially noticeable in such passages as the start of the Adagio ma non troppo of the G major Concerto.

The Concerto for flute and harp belongs to the same period as those for flute (1778) and was composed in Paris for the Duc de Guines and his harpist daughter. Sensuously beautiful and ingenious too, this substantial work receives a thoughtful perfomance from James Galway and Marisa Robles, and although at the start of the initial Allegro one notes a deliberate tempo the pretty sounds produced by the two solo instruments on their entry make one cease to query the pace and overall this is an attractive account. One can see that restricting this issue to original works including Mozart's own flute version of the C major Oboe Concerto would still have taken it beyond the length of one CD. As it is, filling two CDs taking 109 minutes (not especially long even so) has necessitated incorporating two transcriptions and also the Eine kleine Nachtmusik in which, of course, the flute has no place at all but which needs no recommendation as music. As for the transcriptions, Mozart's Rondo, K373, was originally for violin and orchestra, but flautists have adopted it in a transposition to D major and it goes well in this form; this arrangement is by James Galway himself, as is that of the minuet from the Divertimento for two horns and strings, K334—a famous tune that well suits the flute.

-- Christopher Headington, Gramophone [7/1989]

*** This title is a reissue of a Japanese release with liner notes in Japanese. ***

When this set was new, Andrew Porter, in one of his last assignments for this magazine, wrote a long and appreciative review, describing it as "an arresting, powerful and beautiful performance". He was writing before the appearance of the Abbado/DG version which has, ever since, put the Gavazzeni somewhat in the shadows. On rehearing it, I concur with Porter's original judgement and am not sure there is that much to choose between the two. Gavazzeni's direction is certainly not so assertive as Abbado's; he doesn't make the score quite so grand and histrionic, but, as with his near-contemporary, Serafin, Gavazzeni does much by unobtrusive means that his successors tend to make more manifest. I found his conducting here convincing throughout, both as regards pacing and inner tension - to quote AP again, he is "at once fiery and wise" and he obtains playing of character and bite from his orchestra, only a shade less impressive than the La Scala contribution to the DG set.

Cappuccilli's Boccanegra is already an imposing Simone here, long in phrase and well-detailed in characterization wanting only the extra light and shade Abbado persuaded him to bring to his singing. The improvement can be judged by listening to the great appeal to the Genovese in the Council Chamber scene, which is more refined and delicately shaded with Abbado, but in the tragic finale to the whole work Cappuccilli is here greatly moving: listen to the plangent accents at "Gran Dio, Ii benedici". Porter was disappointed by Ricciarelli, in one of her earliest recordings, but I find her Amelia still more touching than Freni's for Abbado though not so securely sung. She is the very image of the put-upon heroine, her tone gentle and appealing. She is also superbly partnered by the young Domingo's heroic Gabriele, his Second Act scena sung with taut passion and the earlier scene with Fiesco given the chivalrous declamation it should have. Fiesco himself is taken by Raimondi, too soft-grained and illdefined in articulation for my taste, no match for Abbado's Ghiaurov. Mastromei, whose career seems to have faded, here shows as Paolo just what an exciting singer he seemed back in the mid 1970s.

I wouldn't say there was that much to choose in the matters of choral contributions, atmosphere and recording. By a small margin the more recent set probably has the edge, but I would hate to be without this RCA and so make them a joint recommendation.

-- Gramophone [9/1987]
Review of RCA 70729

"...chamber music-making of high seriousness and high integrity that allows Bach's timeless music to speak for itself."

- BBC Music Magazine, [October 2008]

"...eloquently thought through and beautifully sung with the perfect sense of dramatic character:.. Sung with peerless vocal beauty and remarkably sensitive ornaments."

- Gramophone Magazine (About the Canadian counter tenor, Daniel Taylor.)

Of all the new Mozart opera recordings that have come my way this bicentenary year, this one gets my vote for best conducting. Davis has been presiding over performances of Figaro for, I'd guess, thirty years now, and he knows exactly how the score should go. He “plays“ his Bavarian Radio Symphony the way a great Lieder accompanist plays the piano, bringing out inner voices at will, underlining every shift in mood, never overpowering the vocal line. His orchestra often seems to be singing along with the voices, sometimes in unison, sometimes in counterpoint, always enhancing the import of the text. There's a world of sadness, for instance, in the sighing of the strings as they introduce the Countess's “Porgi amor,“ just as, by contrast, there's fury and indignation in the music of the Count's aria. There are innumerable small expressive details as well. When Figaro tersely reprises his “Se vuol ballare“ in act II, he sounds more determined, more minatory, simply because of the way Davis uses the double basses to reinforce his words. Every new episode in the great act II finale, every twist in plot, is gleefully seconded by the orchestral voices, yet there's never any hint of exaggeration. Dynamics ebb and flow easily, tempos are always just, and it all sounds so perfectly sane and natural that you may have to refer to recordings led by lesser conductors to appreciate Davis's extraordinary skill. His previous Figaro for Philips, first issued in 1971, is fiercer in spots and always dramatically telling, if less smooth overall and less rich in detail. It was a good job, but the new account is altogether more masterly. I'd rank Davis's achievement in Figaro with that of Giulini or Erich Kleiber. Among contemporary conductors, I don't think anyone can touch him—at least not until some record company coaxes a Figaro out of the younger Kleiber (Carlos), who shares Davis's uncanny ability to make an opera orchestra sing.

I must, regretfully, pick on the cast. It would have made a great deal of sense, this busy Mozart year, for the big companies to pool their resources and give us fewer and better recordings: After some amiable discussion, each company would select just one major opera—RCA might take Figaro, say; Philips, Zauberflöte; EMI, Don Giovanni; and so on—and then assemble, in one place, the very best available cast. Fat chance! It's not that I'm opposed to competition. It's just that there aren't enough top-notch Mozart singers around to staff three or four new recordings of each opera. Only one of Davis's troupe strikes me as the best possible choice for her role: Helen Donath. Her Susanna is prettily, perkily vocalized, but beyond that, it's so assured, so plausible, and so per-sonably sung that the soprano herself all but disappears, leaving only the character vividly before us. We're not listening to Donath here; we're meeting Mozart's Susanna in the flesh. None of the other cast members are quite so accomplished, though every one of them is likable enough, and they're all so adept at projecting the Italian words that I'd like to know who their diction coach was (if any). The exception is Varady, whose voice has wonderful gleam and thrust but whose words are so peculiarly uttered that they color (perhaps unintentionally) her characterization. She's a serious, long-suffering Countess who's out of place among these conniving people, a Ruth amid the alien corn, and all the more poignant because of it. Her arias are beautifully, dolorously sung, though she's a bit short of breath in “Dove sono.“ It's no great feat to bring Cherubino to life; what really counts is the way he sings his arias. The young American mezzo Marilyn Schmiege is boyish and sensual enough, and she knows just how to shape “Voi che sapete,“ but there are a few raw patches in her voice. Cornelia Kallisch is also not a sterling vocalist, and she finds her aria too high and too florid for comfort, but she's a lively actress.

I admire Furlanetto's verbal skills a great deal. His Count has many faces: unctuous, gullible, aristocratically confident, eagerly amorous, all worn without the histrionics we often get from the most egregious teutonic blusterers. His voice is rusty, though, nowhere more so than in his aria, which progresses stiffly from note to note. Titus's Figaro doesn't have the vocal warmth and suavity of the best Italian models—his timbre is dry and undistinguished—but he's believable as both the feisty lover and the quick-witted schemer. I don't think he's done anything better on records; this Figaro is a great improvement on his Don Giovanni in particular. Nimsgern is a flexible Bartolo; Zednik manages Basilio's aria well enough to justify its inclusion; and that agreeable Swedish tenor Claes H. Ahnsjö still has some sweetness left in his tone. The Barbarina and Antonio are fine.

RCA's engineers have stereophonically exaggerated the distance between some of the singers in the ensembles—this is not the way they would sound in an opera house—but they've otherwise captured voices and orchestra with great naturalness. RCA's fat booklet includes notes and a libretto, and even a few photos of the recording sessions (something we seldom see any more). My favorite Figaros remain Giulini's on Angel (two mid-price discs) and Kleiber's on London (three mid-price discs). Davis's Philips recording is, truth to tell, slightly better cast than this new one: Norman, Wixell, Ganzirolli, Minton, and Freni as a still-incomparable Susanna; so I won't be giving that one away either. Despite its shortcomings, however, this latest Figaro has a theatrical vitality that's hard to resist. It compares favorably with all but the very best classic recordings, and it makes an auspicious start for RCA's re-entry into the opera business.

-- Ralph V. Lucano, FANFARE [11/1991]

MOZART: IL RE PASTORE VAUGHAN

BRAHMS: PIANO CONCERTO, VIOLIN

Track Listing
1. Mbayi Mbayi
2. Zebra Crossing
3. Zulu Lullaby
4. Kwela
5. The Paul Simon "Graceland" Collection: Homeless/Diamonds on the Soles O: Homeless / Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes / Graceland / You Can Call Me Al
6. Bossa Baroque
7. Shut up and Listen (Thul'u Lalele)
8. Saint Agnes and the Burning Train (St. Agnes Nokusha Kwe-Stimela)
9. Kadeni Kwazulu
10. Ntyilo Ntyilo (The Love Bird)
11. Where Were You Taking Me to? (Uno'ntsonkisa Kae?)
12. Nkosi Sikelel' Africa (God Bless Africa)
13. Mbayi Mbayi (Reprise)

Soweto String Quartet: Sandile Khemese, Thami Khemese (violin); Makhosini Mnguni (viola); Reuben Khemese (cello).

Personnel: Kelly Petlane (flute); Johan Laas (keyboards, synthesizer, timpani); Ian Herman, Richard Mitchell (drums); Veli Shabangu (percussion).

Audio Mixer: Richard Mitchell.

Liner Note Author: Graham Beggs.

Arranger: Johan Laas.

Soweto String Quartet are four musicians from the apartheid-created township of Soweto, South Africa, which was established when blacks were forced to moved out of racially integrated Sophiatown in the early 1950's. Though the members are classically trained musicians and the instruments (first and second violins, viola and cello) make up a traditional string quartet, the music and arrangements found here are not what you would expect. The Soweto String Quartet perform traditional African hymns, folk songs and lullabies, all with their own original arrangements. It is distinctly African music played on traditionally European instruments, and that approach creates new and wonderful music. The members also perform arrangements of songs by some of their favorite contemporary musicians. Selections from Paul Simon's Graceland are performed in a seamless medley, and Sting's "St. Agnes and the Burning Train" gets a great melodic treatment. The quartet's arrangement of Dave Grusin's "Bossa Baroque" is an innovative interpretation of a classic piece. The Soweto String Quartet gets help on several tracks from a quartet of drums, bass, percussion and guitars, but they stay wisely in the background and allow the Quartet to shine. This is definitely not for the narrow-minded lover of traditional classical music. But it is music well worth spending some time with, though it may seem a bit strange at first listen. The Soweto String Quartet have created a tribute to their rich musical background and homeland, while expressing their own talents and love for modern music.

TCHAIKOVSKY: VIOLIN CONCERTO,

MUSIK IN DEUTSCHLAND 1950-2000