Verdi based La traviata on Alexandre Dumas fils's novel and play La Dame aux camélias, inspired by the life and death of the real Parisian courtesan Marie Duplessis. One of the most popular of all operas, the 2018/2019 season featured 151 productions of La traviata performed worldwide. Verdi's sublime score contains some of his most inspired arias and duets. Ermonela Jaho stars as Violetta, opposite Charles Castronovo as Alfredo, with Plácido Domingo as his unyielding father in Richard Eyre’s classic production, featuring stunning naturalistic designs by Bob Crowley. This production is recorded in High Definition and true Surround Sound.

Webster's Dictionary defines "Americana" as "things typical of America." The "typical American" optimistic spirit is captured in the sweeping melodies and triumphant sonorities of composer James Beckel's "American Dream." Directed by Commander Lewis J. Buckley, the United States Coast Guard Band strives to express its great patriotism on this album, Americana. (Altissimo)

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This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.

Also available on standard DVD

English-speaking audiences have always found Die Meistersinger to be a life-enhancing celebration of wisdom, art and song. So it proves in David McVicar's production – the first at Glyndebourne – which is updated to the early-19th century of Wagner's childhood. At the centre of a true ensemble cast is Gerald Finley, a 'gleamingly sung', 'eminently believable' Sachs (The Independent on Sunday), supported by the dynamic conducting of Vladimir Jurowski which, like McVicar's production, uses Glyndebourne's special intimacy to bring sharp focus to bear on the subtlety of Wagner's musical and dramatic counterpoint.

McVicar has put on a great show with style, intelligence and insight. -- The Telegraph

Musically, it was judged faultlessly for the scale of the theatre by Vladimir Jurowski, who conjured playing of mercurial clarity not the first words one would normally choose for this gargantuan score from the London Philharmonic Orchestra, sustained with unfailing vigilance and concentration. -- The Guardian

Richard Wagner
DIE MEISTERSINGER VON NÜRNBERG
(Blu-ray Disc Version)

Walther von Stolzing – Marco Jentzsch
Eva – Anna Gabler
Magdalene – Michaela Selinger
David – Topi Lehtipuu
Veit Pogner – Alastair Miles
Sixtus Beckmesser – Johannes Martin Kränzle
Hans Sachs – Gerald Finley
Kunz Vogelgesang – Colin Judson

The Glyndebourne Chorus
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Vladimir Jurowski, conductor

David McVicar, stage director

Recorded live at Glyndebourne, Lewes, July 2011

Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German
Running time: 300 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)

R E V I E W:

WAGNER Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg • Vladimir Jurowski, cond; Anna Gabler ( Eva ); Michaela Selinger ( Magdalene ); Marco Jentzsch ( Walther von Stolzing ); Topi Lehtipuu ( David ); Gerald Finley ( Hans Sachs ); Johannes Martin Kränzle ( Sixtus Beckmesser ); Alastair Miles ( Veit Pogner ); Glyndebourne Festival Ch; London PO • OPUS ARTE OA 1085 D (2 DVDs: 300:00) OA BD7108 (Blu-ray) Live: Glyndebourne 6/2011


John Christie, Glyndebourne’s founder, was Wagner-obsessed and would have dearly loved to present one of the composer’s operas early-on in the Festival’s history. But such an undertaking was not a reasonable possibility in Glyndebourne’s original 300-seat theater. As John Christie’s grandson recounts in one of this Blu-ray’s “extras,” an early Glyndebourne conductor commented “if you put on Wagner, you’ll need to put the audience on the stage and the stage in the auditorium.” Glyndebourne got a new opera house in the 1990s, seating 1,250, and Wagner finally came to East Sussex in 2003 with a production of Tristan und Isolde. This David McVicar-directed Meistersinger represents Glyndebourne’s second Wagner staging, and it’s something special.


Die Meistersinger , at one level, is about intergenerational conflict and being able to cast younger singers as the quartet of lovers is a real plus. (The recent PentaTone Meistersinger on SACD succeeds, in part, because those singers at least sound youthful.) At Glyndebourne, McVicar notes, he could “cast singers that are appropriate to the ages of their characters and are physically convincing.” Marco Jentzsch, the strapping Walther, has got to be 6’3” or 6’4”—a far cry from the all-too-common fireplug Stolzings, whose boots come up most of the way to their protuberant abdomens. If Jentzsch can’t belt out the Prize Song as powerfully as a Ben Heppner or Peter Seifert, he’s fully up to the lyrical requirements of the role and his voice has a pleasant timbre. The Finnish tenor Topi Lehtipuu handles the part of David very effectively, both his character’s palpable horniness and, more critically, the act I exegesis on song writing. Anna Gabler is a complex and passionate Eva, as confused as Nuremberg’s shoemaker about the possibility of a future as Mrs. Hans Sachs. Michaela Selinger, the Magdalena, is perky and vocally appealing.


Alistair Miles portrays a Pogner that is Sach’s equal in intelligence and integrity, despite his fat-cat status; Johannes Martin Kränzle’s Beckmesser executes the requisite physical comedy and manages just the correct amount of pedantry and pride to define the town clerk’s obvious short-comings while leaving him a sympathetic character. Beckmesser, here, is a victim of his own personality failings rather than a fundamentally bad person. Any Meistersinger, of course, depends on its Sachs to keep our interest up for five hours, and Gerald Finley is a superb one. He happens to be the best singer here, but his acting is what makes this production so compelling. Finley’s character, we know from the outset, is thoroughly engaged with the dual goals of achieving artistic progress and promoting Stolzing’s romantic efforts—but is also a very conflicted human being. When the curtain goes up for act III, it’s clear that Sachs has been drinking all night and he kicks some furniture around. He uncovers a portrait of his late wife. And just before Walther enters to compose his song, we see Sachs pick up a pen to write something—presumably a contest song to compete for Eva himself. The Knight comes into the workshop and Sachs backs away from the abyss.


It’s that sort of theatrical detail that makes this production exceptional. The size of the stage and hall is still small by Metropolitan Opera or Covent Garden standards and allows for a high level of intimacy. As McVicar tells us “Everyone on stage is a character and has a story.” Watch the Masters as they congregate in acts I and III, especially the guy with the ear trumpet. That’s “Ulrich Eisslinger,” not exactly a major role—he has one line in the act I roll call. The part is positively savored by Adrian Thomson, who responds to every event on stage with facial expressions and body language that are alone practically worth the price of admission. And look at the Masters’ faces when Walther’s final version of the Prize Song takes an unexpected harmonic turn. These guys—the singers and their characters—are really listening deeply.


McVicar moves the action from the 16th century to the early 19th, the era into which the composer was born. In a second extra feature, Die Meistersinger —An Opera with Baggage, the director reminds us that the 1820s and 1830s were a time before Unification when Germans “could point to their culture as an expression of their national identity.” By considering Meistersinger in the context of this time frame, McVicar doesn’t need to directly address the future commandeering of this work for the vilest of nationalistic purposes. I like any Meistersinger where Beckmesser stays on stage after his humiliation. He’s not the “other”—he’s still part of a community.


The production is sumptuously lit and filmed, in the same league as the Met’s venerable Otto Schenk version—and the meadow scene is a real eyeful. The sound is richly detailed with excellent vocal/orchestral balances. (In multichannel, the “auf den theater” brass fanfares are definitely coming from afar.) Subtitles are offered in English, French, and German. Glyndebourne’s Meistersinger goes straight to the top of the heap among the eight video versions in my collection. It registers here, to use David McVicar’s words, as “a profoundly human, wise, warm, loving work.”


FANFARE: Andrew Quint

The Glenn Gould wonderful musical talent was very precocious in all his provocative originality. Goul’s approach to the traditional repertoire left the audience completely amazed and admired at the same time. His Beethoven and mainly his Bach had that was predictable both for performance and choice of repertoire. In this CD , some very rare recordings are collected, realized by Gould when he was just twenty for the Canadian Radio

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Classical Music

Classical Music

*** This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD or HD DVD players. ***



J. STRAUSS II Die Fledermaus • Vladimir Jurowski, cond; Pamela Armstrong ( Rosalinde ); Thomas Allen ( Eisenstein ); Håkan Hagegård ( Dr. Falke ); Pär Lindskog ( Alfred ); Malena Ernman ( Prince Orlovsky ); Lyubov Petrova ( Adele ); Ragnar Ulfung ( Dr. Blind ); Artur Korn ( Frank ); Udo Samel ( Frosch ); Reneé Schüttengruber ( Ida ); Glyndebourne Ch; London PO • BBC/OPUS ARTE 7004 (Blu-ray Disc: 198:00) Live: Glyndebourne 8/17/2003


& Cast & costume galleries. The Genesis of the Waltz. The Architect Returns. Interviews. Frosch interlude


This pretty-much-perfect production of Strauss’s pretty-much-perfect operetta is an ideal specimen to demonstrate the visual and sonic virtues of the Blu-ray medium. The Glyndebourne staging is a feast to watch: the sets and costumes are lavish, the dancing accomplished. Opus Arte’s 24-bit PCM sound is way better than anything you’ve ever heard on a traditional DVD, both the stereo version and the spacious multichannel that puts the listener in the middle of the appreciative audience who experienced the real thing in Sussex back in August of 2003.


Director Stephen Lawless has moved the setting of Die Fledermaus ahead a few decades to around 1910, the Vienna of Sigmund Freud and Gustav Klimt. (Eisenstein’s dressing gown, in fact, is a facsimile of Klimt’s The Kiss .) This Fledermaus is clearly viewed as a play that happens to have awfully good music, and Lawless and Daniel Dooner have created new dialogue for the production. In the hands of an ensemble of terrific singing actors, the texts never impede the headlong momentum of this comic masterpiece.


What a cast! Pamela Armstrong, as Rosalinde, handles the part vocally quite well but is equally concerned with her character’s development: when she dresses up as someone else, Eisenstein’s wife discovers her “real self” (as the soprano puts it in one of the disc’s “extras”). Thomas Allen notes that the high tessitura of his role was a bit of a challenge—it sure doesn’t sound it—but his comic timing is impeccable and the man can actually dance. As Dr. Falke, Håkan Hagegård gives his character an edge: the practical joke that Eisenstein played on him months before the curtain rises for act I has deeply wounded him, and Falke is serious about getting revenge. Singing Alfred in an appropriately seductive manner is Swedish tenor Pär Lindskog who, like Allen, is obviously quite a versatile artist. You’d never know from this performance that the guy also sings Siegfried and Parsifal.


The kudos go on. Lyubov Petrova’s rendition of Adele’s big second-act aria is a showstopper and Malena Ernman is utterly convincing as the terminally bored and sexually ambiguous Orlovsky. It’s a surprise every time Ernman starts to sing and her voice jumps up an octave or two. The smaller parts—Dr. Blind, Frank, Ida, Frosch—are all covered quite well.


Vladimir Jurowski takes the music very seriously (as, the notes remind us, did Gustav Mahler) and his leadership of the LPO is spirited and knowingly inflected. To accompany the curtain calls, Jurowski conducts a rousing “Radetzky March.” Opus Arte provides subtitles in English, French, German, Spanish, and Dutch. There’s a generous supply of extras, including cast and costume “galleries” and brief featurettes on the history of the waltz and the new (in 1994) opera house at Glyndebourne, as revisited by the architect who designed it. We also get observations on Fledermaus from Armstrong, Allen, Hagegård, Jurowski, and director Lawless and, to close, some shtick, mostly about champagne, by Udo Samel, the actor who has the speaking role of the jailer Frosch.


Yes, this one’s on my Want List.

FANFARE: Andrew Quint


Picture Format: 1080i High Definition, NTSC 16:9
Sound Format: 2.0 / 5.0 PCM Audio
Region Code: 0 (All Regions)
Menu Languages: English
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish, Dutch
Running Time: 198 min

VERDI Rigoletto & • Edward Downes, cond; Christine Schäfer (Gilda); Marcelo Álvarez (Duke of Mantua); Paolo Gavanelli (Rigoletto); Eric Halfvarson (Sparafucile); Elizabeth Sikora (Giovanna); Graciela Araya (Maddalena); Peter Auty (Borsa); Giovan Battista Parodi (Monterone); Royal Op O & Ch • OPUS ARTE 6005 (DVD: 135:15 + 11:33) Live: London 9/19/2001.

& Documentary: Verdi Through the Looking Glass (17:50); Interview with David McVicar

This Rigoletto directed by David McVicar, last available on a Kultur DVD in 2009, is not to be confused with the other Marcelo Álvarez Rigoletto with soprano Inva Mula and baritone Carlos Alvarez (originally issued by TDK in 2004 and reissued by Arthaus Musik in 2010). I reviewed the latter performance in Fanfare 34:2 and found it interesting but somewhat ho-hum. This one apparently made its appearance in a boxed set from the BBC that also included productions of Falstaff and Il trovatore. Unless the Fanfare Archive is incorrect (I checked under “Singers” for Paolo Gavanelli as well as under “Composers & Works” for “Verdi Rigoletto”), this one seems to have somehow escaped being previously reviewed in Fanfare.

McVicar, in his brief interview, describes Rigoletto as “a scream of rage” against social inequality. He’s probably right. He also brings up the Communist Manifesto and relates Verdi to it. He’s probably wrong. Rigoletto was just good old Victor Hugo, and Hugo had a lifelong fascination with hunchbacks and other physically deformed humans. That’s all it is. It’s not a Communist plot. “It deals with questions of what is beautiful, what is ugly,” he continues, and in that he is 100 percent correct. That was, indeed, Hugo’s focal point. Neither Tribolet (Rigoletto) nor Quasimodo (the hunchback of Notre Dame) are bad people, just unfortunate in the way they were born. “This [opera] is about things that are darker, things that are more unpalatable,” McVicar continues, and this, indeed, is the focus of his production.

An interesting point of dramatic relationship between the two DVD Rigolettos: in neither one does the title character have a real “hunchback” as one would imagine, for instance, from seeing either the Lon Chaney or Charles Laughton films of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. They have, rather, a sort of bulging shark fin growing out of their shoulders. One of the most impressive characterizations of the title role (and I’ve mentioned this before) was a 1970s filmed performance in which Rolando Panerai, his back bulging and deformed, scampered across the stage like some sort of huge and unsettling spider. I don’t demand that every Rigoletto act that way, but Panerai’s conception was uncomfortable to watch in a bizarre, black humor concept.

Thus, in McVicar’s mind, the opening “grand ballroom scene” has no splendor whatsoever. It is a dark, almost forbidding atmosphere in which topless women carouse like whores with the courtiers. The Duke of Mantua’s court has nothing festive, celebratory, or grand about it; it is seamy and disgusting, like the Duke himself. Yet the Duke is handsome and looks (relatively) innocent; it is his twisted jester who personifies all the ugliness inside of him, though Rigoletto is actually the most acutely self-aware person up there. He knows exactly what’s going on, what his function is within the court, and so is able to play up to the Duke’s depravity in a black-humor sort of way and thus win his favor.

Marcelo Álvarez, though a very accomplished tenor, is not one of the world’s great stage actors, thus he follows McVicar’s stage directions—looking rather blasé, jaded, and bored with the many topless beauties in his court—without really getting into the character the way a Jon Vickers, for instance, would have, yet he is certainly good enough to fit into the overall concept. “Questa o quella” sounds almost more brutal than jolly; this is no devil-may-care flirt, but a lecherous Don Juan with no pretense at looking or acting like a gentleman—except when he is play-acting with Gilda. In a way, however, I found the overwhelming number of topless women carousing around like whores to be too much of a bad thing. OK, fine, you made your point. Do you have to keep drumming it over our head like Gene Krupa’s tom-toms? Enough already. I mean, why would they even bother getting dressed in the first place if all they’re going to do is run around laughing and having their dresses pulled down and their knickers pulled up? Yet vocally and dramatically, this performance really takes off. Downes drives his orchestra, chorus, and soloists like a man possessed—I haven’t heard such a well-conducted Rigoletto since the old Bonynge recording—and all the solo voices are good in the first scene, even the dark sound of Parodi as Monterone. Gavanelli not only has a first-class voice, he knows how to use it for both musical and dramatic effect and is a fine stage actor as well. Vocally, the one fly in the ointment is Halfvarson as Sparafucile. His voice has a squally sound, which is exacerbated by an uneven flutter bordering on wobble, but he is a good stage actor, so that’s half the battle won.

I’ve long felt that Edward Downes was one of the more underrated opera conductors in the world. For whatever reason, he always seemed to be overshadowed by other British opera conductors: John Barbirolli when he was younger, John Pritchard when he was older, and later by Antonio Pappano; yet though I am also a big fan of Pappano, there has never been any question in my mind that Downes was always better than Barbirolli or Pritchard, and his work here is splendid. He takes slightly more relaxed tempos than you might be familiar with from the Richard Bonynge or Francesco Molinari-Pradelli recordings, and certainly more relaxed than Arturo Toscanini took act III back in 1944, yet as always his conducting has real “bite.” Not only the brass and winds, but also the strings, speak to you as the drama unfolds on stage, and that, to me, is definitely the mark of a great conductor. Here, too, he uses rubato, rallentandos, and other rhythmic devices to occasionally elongate the musical line without distorting it, as well as a wide range of dynamics and accents to make the music “speak.” A sterling example of how he works may be heard in “Pari siamo,” that difficult quasi-parlando aria in which the title character vacillates between self-reflection and loathing of the court and those he must serve and make laugh. This has always been, for me, one of the supreme highlights of this opera, yet too many baritones run through it as if it were a bel canto exercise. Gavanelli and Downes know exactly how to play it, and it comes off beautifully. The baritone here reveals as great a command of soft singing and half-shades as of ringing, forte high notes.

There’s a bit of luxury casting here in having Christine Schäfer, the world’s most famous exponent of Berg’s Lulu, singing Gilda. She is in superb voice and, more importantly, is a fine stage actress. Moreover, she is able to bring the voice “down” enough from its usual stratospheric heights to give the middle and lower ranges some richness and depth, something I would not have expected of her prior to hearing this. Toscanini, defying operatic conventions of his day and long afterward, insisted that Gilda be sung by a strong lyric soprano voice of the sort that could conceivably also sing Aida and Leonora. For generations, collectors have been enamored of the 1944 performance he gave of act III with Zinka Milanov as Gilda, but although Milanov sang very well her basic timbre was wrong for the part. It was simply too dark and matronly-sounding, more like a 40-year-old Gilda. Toscanini had a much better soprano in his 1943 broadcast, Gertrude Ribla. My other favorite Gildas in the lyric soprano mold are Maria Callas, Cristina Deutekom (only in the first duet with Rigoletto; I don’t think she ever sang the complete role on stage) and Margarita Rinaldi in the aforementioned performance with Panerai, but to this very short list I now add Schäfer. She not only sings it well but brings an entirely new dimension to Gilda that only Ribla and Callas came close to. I was also delightfully surprised to hear that many of the normal cuts in the music were opened up here. In “E il sol dell’anima,” Álvarez sings some of the phrases with something close to the melting legato and sensual phrasing of Tito Schipa—another pleasant surprise. Both soprano and tenor hit the high D? at the end of “Addio, addio,” yet both cut it off short as the score prescribes. Verdi would have been very pleased by this, yet perhaps more so by Schäfer’s near miraculous performance of “Caro nome.” She is even better, musically and dramatically, in this worn-out set piece than Callas or Rinaldi, binding the phrases beautifully yet still “clipping” the descending eighth notes as the score demands, limning every trill, however short, with dramatic meaning. This is surely the work of a great singing actress, and Schäfer does herself proud. Unlike so many practitioners of this role over the decades, Schäfer doesn’t “give them what they want to hear” but what the score dictates, and the aria is all the stronger for it.

One of the more brilliant moments in this production comes when the Duke sings “Ella mi fu rapita … Parmi veder le lagrime.” You finally understand the words. You’re not necessarily supposed to feel sorry for the Duke, but you are supposed to understand that Gilda’s purity of character made him come close to mending his ways. Would he have? Probably not, and that is the dramatic irony of the aria. Also interestingly, vocal delicacy and dramatic subtlety crown the second half of Rigoletto’s “Cortigianni” aria, with Gavanelli singing as tenderly in this section as Giuseppe de Luca once did, albeit with greater dramatic meaning in his delivery.

Wonder of wonders, Álvarez sings “La donna è mobile” with lightness and delicacy—again, à la Schipa—though he does not resist the temptation to sing the unwritten high B at the end. Yet he does also, even more surprisingly, sing the opening solo lines of “Bella figlia dell’amore” with equal delicacy, at once bringing the voice down to a mere thread of sound, a fil da voce, which makes a much greater dramatic impact than shouting it out. Graciela Araya is an excellent Maddalena, both vocally and histrionically, and the quartet ends quietly with no one banging out a high note—again, as the score directs—and Downes’s conducting of the storm scene is just as powerful as Toscanini’s. The final scene is touchingly sung and acted. All in all, a splendid performance.

The mini-documentary Verdi Through the Looking-Glass features one of the strangest and most exclusive clubs in the world: a group of old men in Parma who are named after each of Verdi’s operas! So you get to meet Macbeth, Il giorno di regno, I masnadieri, Rigoletto, Otello, Aida, Falstaff, La forza del destino, I due Foscari, etc. in the flesh. (They don’t mention whether or not one of them is named Messa da Requiem!) And they sit around and drink green-colored alcoholic beverages (the color comes from kiwi juice) at nine in the morning!

FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

Classical Music

RAFF: Symphonies Nos. 3 and 10

In the final part of Wagner's epic cycle, Der Ring des Nibelungen, Siegfried's world descends into falsehood and betrayal before his cursed life is ended by a single spear.

This ballet in 2 acts and 6 scenes was created by George Balanchine to music by Mendelssohn based on a story by Shakespeare. The Pacific Northwest Ballet performs with the BBC Concert Orchestra, Cynthia Fleming, Libby Crabtree, and Judith Harris.

After the “flood of the century” the Semperoper resumed limited activities towards the end of 2002. Light was appearing on the horizon, life was going on! The first events took place at the beginning of December, with symphony concerts in which the Staatskapelle performed Anton Bruckner's Eighth Symphony conducted by Bernard Haitink. Expectant audiences were again able to assemble in the opera. The concert of December 3 was broadcast live by MDR; the single recording made of that broadcast forms the basis of this CD.

This album contains both sets of Antonin Dvor�k's Slavonic Dances in an idiomatic and thrilling interpretation of the SWR Rundfunkorchester Kaiserslautern conducted by Jiri St�rek. Dvorak's Slavonic Dances are a series of 16 orchestral pieces composed in 1878 and 1886 and published in two sets. They were originally composed for piano four hands, and were inspired by Johannes Brahms's Hungarian Dances. They were orchestrated at the bequest of Dvorak's publisher soon after their composition. The miniatures are lively and full of character and nationalism, and were well received in their day. Even now, they are considered among the composer's most memorable works. This album is part of a new re-release series (Century Classics) consisting of SWR music bestsellers. The series is competitively priced, optically highly attractive and contains acclaimed SWR recordings mostly of the SWR orchestras and their chief conductors.

It is difficult to overstate the breadth of contribution of Anton Rubinstein to the development of the Russian culture in the 19th century. His multifaceted genius can be divided into three areas- Rubinstein the composer, the pianist, and the educator. In this first release in the series of recordings of his works for piano and orchestra, we focus on Rubinstein’s role as an educator. The album brings into light the effect Rubinstein had on the advancement of the Russian musical style in the 19th and 20th centuries. Hailed by The New York Times as a pianist of “a fiery sensibility and warm touch,” Anna Shelest is an international award-winning pianist who has thrilled the audiences she’s been in front of all over the world. Born in Ukraine, she began her studies at the age of six, and at the age of eleven she performed at the UNESCO headquarters in Paris. Her repertoire ranges from the Baroque to today’s contemporary composers. She has a particular affinity for Russian piano literature. Having received her Masters Degree at The Juilliard School, Anna Shelest currently resides in New York City with her husband and two sons. The Orchestra Now is group of vibrant young musicians from across the globe who are making orchestral music relevant to 21st century audiences. Hand-picked from the world’s leading conservatories, the members of TON are not only thrilling audiences with their critically acclaimed performances, but also enlightening curious minds by giving on stage demonstrations.

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Ferdinand Ries is remembered as Beethoven's one-time pupil, secretary and copyist, but the discovery of his many compositions showed him to be a forward-looking composer in his own right. The 1799 Cello Sonata in C minor is among the first of it's genre, the 15-year-old Ries already showing remarkable talent in it's 'Sturm und Drang' moods. The Trio, Op. 63 was admired in it's day for it's ingenuity of modulations' and fashionable London society lapped up the exotic themes of works such as Introduction and a Russian Dance and the virtuosic Trois Airs Russes Varies.

- Robert Schumann's three sonatas for violin and piano embody the 19th c. German Romantic perspective. - Entering Schumann's unique sound world, violinist Nicholas DiEugenio and pianist Chi-Chen Wu draw further inspiration from the builder Rodney Regier's unique creation of a fortepiano that embodies the ideal characteristics of instruments by Vienna's greatest early 19th c. builders, Conrad Graf and Ignaz B�sendorfer. - The release of this disc ushers in the first such recording to feature performances of all three sonatas on a fortepiano.

The eighteen ‘Ungarischer Romanzero’ are transcriptions of popular Hungarian melodies made partially in collaboration with violinist Ede Remenyi. The manuscripts are not always complete, with space for performers to add their own elaborations, or to follow Liszt’s own hints on his own performances of pieces that give valuable insights into his Hungarian influences in their rawest form. The ‘Hungarian National Melodies’ provide opportunities for amateur players, while the hugely popular Rakoczi March became the unofficial national anthem of Hungary, also being used by Berlioz and other composers. Pianist Warren Lee made his televised debut with the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra at the age of six and was the first prize winner of the 1995 Stravinsky Awards International Piano Competition and the Grand Prix Ivo Pogorelich. His discography includes many acclaimed albums of solo and chamber music repertoire. The ‘American Record Guide’ called him a “first-rate artist” while Fanfare noted that he is “a pianist to watch out, whether as a soloist or chamber musician.”

There's nothing quite like the rich sound and close harmonies that can be produced by a chorus of men's voices, especially the BYU MEN'S CHORUS. The group traces it's roots back to 1901 when twenty-five members began singing together as the Men's Glee. Today they're in high demand-so popular that they can't begin to respond to all the requests they get to perform. Here is the next best way to enjoy this energetic vocal group. Under the direction of Dr. Mack Wilberg, the BYU MEN'S CHORUS has recorded many of it's most popular songs on cassette and compact disc. Featuring many of Wilberg's own arrangements the group performs a variety of music styles with titles ranging from 'Redeemer of Israel' to 'If I Got My Ticket Can I Ride?' to the American folk song 'Cindy.' the collection includes more than a dozen songs representing a variety of styles from traditional sacred music to lively folk songs to moving spirituals from various nations.

Beethoven was commissioned to write his first stage work- a ballet score for Die Geschopfe des Prometheus ('The Creatures of Prometheus')- for the dancer and choreographer Salvatore Vigano, nephew of composer Luigi Boccherini. In the myth, Prometheus is punished by Zeus for stealing fire for the benefit of mankind; in the allegorical ballet, Prometheus brings Enlightenment ideas of art and science to humanity. The overture remains popular and the finale- the theme of which Beethoven was later to use in his 'Eroica' Symphony- offers a heroic conclusion.

A central element in Liszt's life was his religious conviction. Harmonies poetiques et religieuses, one of his most famous religious works, was inspired by the poetry of Alphonse de Lamartine. Excerpts featured on Vol. 3 of this series were critically acclaimed. Vol. 53 presents the 1847 cycle in it's first version; one that follows the poetic works that inspired it more closely than the more frequently performed and recorded later version. Wojciech Waleczek is recognized internationally as a pianist with uncompromisingly high standards in performance. The artist, born in 1980, has been pursuing a robust concert career playing as soloist with symphonic orchestras, solo piano recitals and chamber music concerts in the 27 countries of Europe as well as in Kazachstan, Jordan, Tunesia, Palestina, Algeria, Iran, Iraq, Japan, Brazil, Argentina, Uruguay, Guyana, Suriname, Canada and the USA.

Brahms’s string concertos are indissolubly linked with the musicians for whom the works were written. He wrote his Violin Concerto for Joseph Joachim, and inn it he combined what a contemporary critic termed ‘the great and serious’ with songful lyricism, melodic beauty, and a fiery Hungarian finale. To mend a breach with the violinist, Brahms later composed a concerto with the unusual combination of violin and cello, the latter played at the premiere by Joachim’s colleague Robert Hausmann. Neither instrument predominates in a work of reconciliation that embodies both drama and reflection. Highly acclaimed Naxos artists Tianwa Yang and Gabriel Schwabe are featured on this recording, as well as Antoni Wit, one of Naxos’s best-selling and best-known conductors.

REVIEWS:

[Yang] plays the concerto with great passion and expressivity, highlighting many details and indulging in more sliding than we usually hear today. Behind all this I sense a directness, a desire perhaps to expose the virtuosic elements of the piece. Conductor Wit is also a musician who does not tend to linger, but I am not sure they are always on the same page. Yang leans toward aggressive playing, while Wit is more mellow—more Eastern European. If you like the concerto with a minimum of philosophizing, you’ll like this performance because it is very well done.

– American Record Guide

In Yang’s and Schwabe’s hands the Double Concerto enjoys an incarnadine reading which benefits from a sweet, close-quarters recording. What we hear evinces both concentration and brio. When a performance of the Double really works it communicates a nicely elongated storminess, as is the case here and with the classic recording by Leonard Rose, Isaac Stern, and the Philadelphia conducted by Eugene Ormandy.

Yang makes tense but re-creative work of the Violin Concerto. Elder statesman Antoni Wit has been facilitating with Naxos for many years. He and the Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin work in commodious harness with the two soloists.

– MusicWeb International (Rob Barnett)

Schumann’s love of the cello, which developed when he learned the instrument as a young man, is expressed most fully in his ‘Cello Concerto in A minor.’ It is a work marked by freshness of spirit and singing lyricism and stands as a rich example of mid-19th-century Romanticism. The series of characterful small pieces that include ‘Funf Stucke im Volkston’ reveals Schumann’s joy in the cello’s unique lyrical capabilities. The ‘Drei Romanzen’ and the ‘Intermezzo’ from the ‘F-A-E Sonata’ are presented here in new arrangements for cello and piano by Gabriel Schwabe. Gabriel Schwabe has established himself among the leading cellists of his generation. He is a laureate of numerous national and international competitions, including the Grand Prix Emanuel Feuermann and the Concours Rostropovich in Paris. As a soloist he has worked with orchestras such as the Philharmonia Orchestra, the NDR Radiophilharmonie, the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra, the Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin, the Malmo and Norrkoping Symphony Orchestras and the Royal Northern Sinfonia. He plays a rare Italian instrument made in Brescia (c. 1600).

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REVIEW:

With just the necessary amount of vibrato, Gabriel Schwabe's cello, dating from around 1600, sings eloquently for him. The score of the concerto’s central section contains much sadness; without any undue haste, he generates an appropriate sense of triumphant brilliance as the work ends.

Schwabe and pianist Nicholas Rimmer give a particularly fast and vibrant account of the Allegro, in the Adagio and Allegro. It is a similarly outgoing performance of the Fantasiestucke that acts as a foil to the moments of beauty in the Three Romances; the five Volkston vividly characterised and contrasted, while the arrangement of the Intermezzo has simply taken the solo part down by an octave.

The catalogue is certainly not short of recordings of the Concerto, but this coupling is unusual and most enjoyable.

– David's Review Corner (David Denton)

Robert Schumann is in many ways typical of the age in which he lived, combining in his music a number of the principal characteristics of Romanticism, as he did in his life. Schumann’s literary sensibility was exceptionally receptive to the ideas of fantasy and fairy tale. His poetic Hausmusik-music for domestic consumption- represents a motion from the outer to the inner world. This recording explores these affiliations in a unique way as most of the performances are the first to have been recorded on period instruments. The clarinet is a replica of the early 19th century type Schumann knew, all three string instruments use gut strings while the piano is an original 1843 Pleyel, and the music’s intimacy and volatility are significantly intensified through their use.