This new Beethoven symphony cycle with Malmö Symphony Orchestra is conductor Robert Trevino’s debut release on Ondine. Trevino is one of the fastest rising young conductors and known for his fresh and vivid interpretations of both standard repertoire as well as contemporary works. Trevino is currently holding the tenures as chief conductor of the Malmö Symphony Orchestra and as music director of the Basque National Orchestra. After studies with conductors David Zinman, Seiji Ozawa and Michael Tilson Thomas, Trevino worked closely as Leif Segerstam’s assistant before making his debuts with a number of leading symphony orchestras worldwide. These Beethoven symphonies were recorded in connection with a Beethoven festival which was arranged in Malmö, Sweden in October, 2019.

REVIEW:

It may seem bold and even brash for a relatively young conductor like Robert Trevino to launch a new label relationship with a Beethoven symphony cycle recorded in live performance. Yet he has an obvious affinity for this repertoire, compounded by the Malmö Symphony Orchestra’s polished and responsive music making. Ondine’s engineering captures the orchestra in fine detail without artificial spotlighting, conveying a genuine concert hall ambience.

In a perceptive interview with David Patrick Stearns published as part of this set’s annotations, Trevino cites consultations with David Zinman and Daniel Barenboim concerning interpretive matters. Indeed there’s evidence of Zinman’s chamber-like aesthetic and fast tempos, as well as the power and dynamism distinguishing Barenboim’s great Berlin Staatskapelle Beethoven symphony cycle. But Trevino goes his own way, with variable results.

His brisk outer movements in Symphony No. 1 are akin to Toscanini’s opera buffa approach, particularly in the Allegro con brio development section’s playful woodwind repartée. Certain phrases in the Minuet push ever-so-slightly ahead of the beat, yet remain securely locked in, ensemble-wise. In No. 2, Trevino effects an assiduous transition between the Adagio introduction and an enchantingly rollicking Allegro con brio. For all its suppleness of execution, I prefer the more pointed string articulation in Paavo Järvi’s similarly conceived traversal. The controlled delicacy in the Larghetto’s softer music makes this movement sound faster than its actual duration, although it’s on the square side when compared alongside the more robust and inflected Harnoncourt reading.

Trevino undersells the cross-rhythmic sforzandos in the Eroica symphony’s first movement, while the exposition’s basic tempo gradually spreads and slows down: not a lot, but the energy flags. Trevino’s Funeral March is as eloquent and moving as the catalog’s best versions. The conductor accelerates for the Fughetta, yet the carefully layered counterpoint and tremendous dynamic build reflect the music’s shattering intent. The Scherzo has all of Szell/Cleveland’s surface perfection, minus its nervous energy, while the finale variations brilliantly showcase the Mälmo woodwinds’ proficiency.

Trevino largely underplays No. 4. The opening Adagio’s blended string and woodwind passages are super clear but lack the foreboding aura of Thomas Fey’s marked dynamic contrasts and stinging accents. The slow movement’s two-note phrases are not as well-defined as in the Bruno Walter/Columbia Symphony recording.

Some may find No. 5’s first movement overly driven, yet Trevino’s attention to linear interplay never derails. If the Andante con moto doesn’t aspire to Beethoven’s “dolce” directive, notice the uncommon clarity of the upper strings’ staccato 32nd notes. The Scherzo’s clipped detaché tuttis and difficult cello/bass fugal entrance in the Trio are appropriately forceful, while the Allegro finale mirrors the first movement’s relentless momentum.

In the Pastorale, Trevino emulates Zinman’s transparency and fast tempos, but with more distinctive first-desk soloists. The bird-call intimations in the second movement are deliciously shaped, but the fourth-movement storm doesn’t break out into a Klempererian or Kleiberian torrent.

No. 7’s fast-paced outer movements border on glibness, missing the force and drama with which Barenboim/Berlin Staatskapelle, Wand/NDR, the first Solti/Chicago, and Carlos Kleiber/Bavarian State Radio Orchestra grab you by the jugular, figuratively speaking.

Trevino’s first-movement tricks in No. 8 don’t quite work, such as a diminuendo in the opening phrase that telegraphs the subito piano that follows, plus odd accelerandos here and there. The conductor gives short shrift to the cross-rhythmic accents, and to the cellos and basses who carry the melodic burden in the transition leading into the recapitulation. The Allegretto’s woodwind gurgles are recessed to polite effect, when they ought to be in your face. The rollicking finale stands out for deft interplay between orchestral strands, yet the similarly lithe Haitink/London Symphony recording proves more incisive in every respect.

Trevino maintains the basic tempo of No. 9’s first movement with little modification, and makes expressive points solely through variety of articulation and specificity of phrasing. The Scherzo’s vibrantly shaped Trio compensates for the main section’s coolness and lack of fervency. In the briskly reserved Adagio, the decorative string passages still manage to sing out and breathe. And the “Ode to Joy” finale benefits from fine singing and “centrist” tempos that are intelligently unified and not too fast nor too slow.

The conductor observes all repeats, eschews the traditional brass reinforcements in the Ninth’s Scherzo, and opts for the trumpets continuing their phrases in the Eroica first-movement coda. If this Beethoven cycle falls short of our reference versions’ consistent satisfaction and seasoned authority, Robert Trevino’s stylish flair, astute musicianship, and good taste are never in doubt.

– ClassicsToday (Jed Distler)

Classical Music

SMETANA Má Vlast • Claus Peter Flor, cond; Malaysian PO • BIS 1805 (SACD: 76: 00)


There is something about Bed?ich Smetana’s Má Vlast that defies interpretation by anyone other than a Czech conductor. You have undoubtedly heard the names: Václav Talich, Karel An?erl, Václav Neumann, and most prominently in this case, Rafael Kubelík. His 1952 mono Mercury Olympian LP recorded with a single Telefunken microphone was an interpretive and sonic landmark, and its sound still holds up well today except for an inevitable lack of stereo spatial information. In fact, over the last 50 years, there has never been a better recorded performance of Má Vlast , even by Kubelik himself in several newer versions on different labels. His hugely anticipated and much-hyped remake with the Boston Symphony Orchestra (Deutsche Grammophon) was especially disappointing sonically and interpretively.There have been numerous other significant recordings of Má Vlast , primarily by Czech conductors released by Supraphon, that have had consistently mediocre sound. Má Vlast doesn’t work well with Supraphon’s typical dry and harmonically threadbare sound. It is great to see performances by non-Czech conductors, but recent high-profile releases by Colin Davis and the London Symphony Orchestra (LSO Live SACD) and Nikolaus Harnoncourt with the Vienna Philharmonic (RCA) have good sound but the interpretations are somewhat problematic. With this background, you have to wonder about the competitiveness of Claus Peter Flor conducting the Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra. The orchestra has already made some good-sounding and critically acclaimed Bis recordings of Rimsky-Korsakov’s music, but it is the stunning SACD of Josef Suk’s “Asrael” Symphony, also conducted by Flor, that made me eager to hear this Má Vlast.


Comparing the timings of Kubelík and Flor is encouraging and instructive. There is only a 20-second difference in a work that is more than 76 minutes long. I can’t imagine a case that better illustrates the uselessness of timings to predict a conductor’s interpretive approach. Flor takes a hard-driving, propusive, dry-eyed, and at least ostensibly fast approach to Má Vlast . He also has no clue about the emotional content of this music that is so striking in interpretations by Kubelík and other Czech conductors. You can usually tell how Má Vlast is going to evolve from the opening of “Vy?ehrad.” Flor’s short, clipped, opening harp phrases and lean orchestral textures emphasize forward motion and play down any sense of grandeur. The end of “?árka” is almost hysterical, and is immediately followed by the initial chords of “From Bohemia’s Meadows and Forests,” which hit like a bulldozer. Flor does not shy away from pounding out those repetitive triplets in “Tábor,” and the timpanist is predictably aggressive in “Tábor” and “Blaník.” It is all very exciting where underplaying the bombast would induce boredom, as it does with Harnoncourt. On the other hand, Flor’s central nocturne in “Vltava” is gorgeous and atmospheric, and he also handles the tricky rhythms in the second half of “From Bohemia’s Meadows and Forests” better than other virtuosic internationalized interpretors like Davis and Harnoncourt. Flor’s finale comes closest to but does not match Kubelík in cumulative impact as they both broaden their tempo for the final statement of the ubiquitous Hussite hymn and the principal theme.


Kubelík’s (Mercury) remains unchallenged as a performance, but it is a mono recording and the CD will be difficult to find. In modern stereo sound, this recording ranks with the best except in terms of orchestral execution where I prefer Davis and the London Symphony Orchestra. The Vienna Philharmonic is on autopilot in Harnoncourt’s soporific version, but is much better with James Levine (Deutsche Grammophon). For a more modern stereo version by Kubelík, go with the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra (Orfeo).


FANFARE: Arthur Lintgen

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Claus Peter Flor directs a tremendously exciting performance of Má Vlast, one that compares favorably to any in the catalog. He takes great pains to characterize each piece, and each section, to the fullest extent possible. In The Moldau you won't find a more vivid contrast between the scenes of the hunt, the peasant dance, the nocturne (exquisite soft brass), and the rapids (ferocious!) anywhere. The violent conclusion of Sárka is absolutely thrilling, the opening of From Bohemia's Woods and Fields terrifying. While not entirely disguising the episodic nature of Tábor (probably an impossible task), Flor keeps the last two tone poems moving forward purposefully to the work's heroic closing bars. It's a great interpretation, one that surely deserves to be documented and enjoyed by collectors.

Technically, the playing of the Malaysian Philharmonic is good, but not perfect. The trumpets at the climax of The Moldau don't quite match timbres as they should (a common problem). Toward the end of Tábor, Flor pushes the triple-forte galloping rhythm in the strings so hard that the result sounds more like Mahler's "struck with the bow" effect. The wild string triplets in Blaník are exciting, but not always ideally together, and there is a cymbal crash missing around measure 214. Some of the climaxes also suffer from an over-enthusiastic timpanist, and as a percussionist I don't make that accusation lightly. Still, Flor's own concept is so powerful, and the orchestral response so committed, that this vivid SACD production deserves very serious consideration.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Berlioz Rottrerdam PO/Nezet-Seguin,Antonacci Symphonie fantastique; Cleopatre

Classical Music

Formed in 2016, the Albion Quartet unites four outstanding young string players, brought together by a shared belief in the visceral power of the string quartet. The upcoming season sees the quartet returning to the Wigmore Hall and Aldeburgh Festival, as well as continuing residencies at Sainte-Mère Festival in France and RWCMD in Cardiff. They will be making a number of broadcasts for BBC Radio 3, whilst continuing their recording projects for Signum Records, for whom they are exclusive artists. Performances in the 2019-20 season include their US debut at the Phillips Collection in Washington, alongside appearances at several festivals including the Oxford Lieder, Stratford International, Belfast International, Cheltenham, Presteigne, and Lichfield, and participating in Beethoven cycles in the UK and Portugal. Here, the quartet continue their Dvorák series on Signum with spectacular renditions of his 8th and 10th quartets.

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REVIEW:

What a gorgeous disc!. Anyone who thinks that the new generation of super-quartets are merely about virtuoso brilliance should hear the myriad shades of russet and gold that the Albion Quartet find in these two enchanting works. This, surely, is how Dvorák’s chamber music is supposed to sound: luminous, playful (there’s a real kick to his dotted dance-rhythms), and simultaneously generous and touchingly intimate. I know it’s early, but I can already see this being my pick of the year.

– Gramophone

Aureliano in Palmira is unique in Rossini’s oeuvre for its inclusion of the only role, Arsace, that Rossini wrote for the castrato voice. Its tale of tragic defeat and the ultimate nobility and triumph of love in seemingly impossible circumstances is a refined and highly innovative example of his style. Set amidst turbulent times in the Roman Empire, Aureliano in Palmira is packed with sublime arias, duets of haunting beauty (notably the three given to Arsace and Zenobia) and excellent choruses, Rossini himself considering this work as ‘divine music.’ Even after initial success he reused many of its melodies in later operas, most famously in Il barbiere di Siviglia. “Silvia Dalla Benetta… played the role of Zenobia and left no doubt that she was not only the Queen of Palmira, but also the prima donna of this evening! With her crisp, slender timbre and her excellent height she sang tirelessly and with brio. The Roman emperor Aureliano was sung with authority by Juan Francisco Gatell, a tenor with a clear, compact voice and a beautiful legato… Between the extensive list of singers… there is always a disappointment but not this year!”

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

BEETHOVEN Piano Concertos: in E?, WoO 4 (reconst. Brautigam); No. 2 in B?. Rondo in B? • Ronald Brautigam (pn); Andrew Parrott (cond); Norrköping SO • BIS 1792 (58:04)


Few piano recording buffs will have missed the remarkable career trajectory of Dutch pianist Ronald Brautigam. Particularly since his association with the Swedish label BIS began in 1995, the releases don’t seem to quit. Now in his mid-fifties, it’s natural that Brautigam should be at the peak of his powers. His recorded repertoire, if not catholic, demonstrates a healthy musical curiosity. Canonic figures are amply represented alongside those less frequently encountered: Haydn and Mozart with Joseph Martin Kraus; Mendelssohn with Gade; Shostakovich and Hindemith with Duruflé, Martin, and Hahn. But it’s not Brautigam’s enviable technical polish that sets him apart from many of his colleagues, nor his lofty musical grasp. It is his individuality. He has a searching musical intelligence, a disarming self-effacement before the score, and an astonishing conscientiousness that, in combination, make him sound like no one else. Witness, for instance, his complete Haydn set, some 15 discs (BIS 1731) representing essentially all the master’s solo keyboard works currently known, recorded over five years, beginning in 1998. Here the same care and imagination are lavished on the earliest experimental sonatas from the lean, free-lance years that are accorded the mature works representing the summit of Haydn’s achievement. Finally, Brautigam has the uncanny ability to turn in consummate performances, equally compelling in stylistic terms, whether he plays replicas of historical instruments or the modern concert grand. In this aspect he seems an entirely new type of pianist. His on-going Beethoven project with BIS, demonstrates this parallel track aptitude with stunning artistic results: the sonatas are being recorded on period-appropriate fortepiano replicas, while the concertos are played on the modern piano, fully informed by cutting-edge performance practice.


Following the release of the First and Third Concertos (BIS 1692) last year, Brautigam and Parrot turn their attention to the earliest known works of Beethoven for piano and orchestra. Only a manuscript of the piano solo part of the E? Concerto survives, dating from around 1784. Fortunately for posterity, Beethoven incorporated the orchestral tutti into the piano part, along with some subsequent editorial changes. Thus a speculative reconstruction of the lost orchestral score is possible, based on the composer’s unusual instrumentation (calling for strings with two flutes and two horns, but no oboes or bassoons). The reconstruction recorded here is Brautigam’s own, as are the candenzas for both WoO 4 and the Rondo. (Beethoven’s 1809 cadenzas are used in the Concerto No. 2.)


Given its sparse representation in the catalogs, the E? Concerto is of special interest. Little in this charming piece suggests that it is the creation of a 13-year-old. Brautigam brings an air of naive exuberance to the difficult solo part; the delicate fiorituras of the Larghetto are breathtakingly poetic. Here, in Brautigam’s superbly reconstructed orchestral score, as indeed throughout the recording, Parrott and the Norrköping musicians are responsive partners of remarkable sensitivity. Moreover, in the Rondo of No. 2, the give-and-take between soloist and orchestra is nothing short of sublime, imbued with an exhilaration that’s utterly infectious. It follows an Adagio of ethereal tenderness. Without doubt, this is the most dynamic, shapely, and vivid recording of the Beethoven Second one is ever likely to hear. It’s worth mentioning that the Steinway D used here, with lid removed, was placed in the middle of the orchestra, continuo style, which does a lot to explain both the cohesive ensemble and the beautifully blended sound of the recording.


Comparisons? This canonic repertoire boasts more than a few canonic interpretations—Schnabel’s revelatory musicality, Rubinstein’s aristocratic poise, Serkin’s modest edginess, and the lofty humanism of Backhaus come immediately to mind. Let me put it this way, without any denigration of artists whom I respect and admire immensely: listening to two recent wonderful Beethoven cycles, those of Plentnev with Gansch and the Russian National O (DG) and Goode with Fischer and the Budapest Festival O (Nonesuch), I hear the glorious recent past, ripe, insightful, often brilliant, immensely pleasurable; listening to Ronald Brautigam, Andrew Parrott, and the Norrköping SO, I hear the future.


FANFARE: Patrick Rucker

Ronald Brautigam is an excellent Beethoven pianist, and he turns in a performance of the Second concerto's solo part that's as lively and attractive as anyone has yet recorded on a modern instrument. It's especially nice to hear the finale taken at a tempo that permits all of the main theme's rhythmic bounce to register without it ever sounding breathless or frantic. The same holds true of the Rondo in B-flat, the Second concerto's original finale. Indeed, the only caveat in these performances concerns the slow movements, where Andrew Parrott, evidently with the acquiescence of his soloist, encourages the orchestra to indulge in that dry, vibrato-less string tone that is the very opposite of stylishness (and utterly contrary to what their own sources say about sustained lyrical music in slow tempos).

The E-flat concerto is an early work in Mozartian style, here very nicely reconstructed by Brautigam from the existing piano score. Indications of scoring in the keyboard part point to an orchestra of strings, two flutes, and two horns, a very unusual combination, and I'm not convinced that two oboes ought not to have been added as a matter of course. Still, there's no denying the distinctive tone color that the absence of double reeds gives the work's overall sonority, and it would be hard to imagine a more sympathetic performance than this one (never mind Parrott and his scratchy strings). I look forward to further releases in this (so far) very rewarding edition.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.


Expectations ran high in anticipation of this release, and they have not been disappointed. BIS just completed a partially successful Beethoven piano concerto series in which an often inspired Ronald Brautigam was shackled to an expressively challenged and period-pedantic Andrew Parrott. Here, both conductor and soloist are consistently operating on the same exciting wavelength. Osmo Vänskä's credentials as a Beethoven conductor remain impressive. He understands the importance of accents, of sforzandos that enliven but don't disrupt the melodic line. He never fails to balance Beethoven's all-important bass lines clearly (opening tutti of the Fourth concerto), or to give sufficient prominence to those rapid accompaniments in repeated notes that energize the music's texture (first movement of the "Emperor"). The orchestra plays with real intensity as well as expressiveness, offering the perfect collaboration for Yevgeny Sudbin's contributions.

These are no less memorable. It's sometimes said that you can tell how well the Fourth concerto will go from the pianist's handling of the opening phrase, and there's some truth to this observation. Sudbin plays it with simple dignity, refuses to make a big ritard at the end, and strictly observes Beethoven's eighth-note value on the last note. The result is that the phrase sounds incomplete (as it should), arousing expectation and carrying the music through the pause to the hesitant entry of the violins in a different key. He understands that some of Beethoven's biggest surprises arrive softly. In short, there is a true give-and-take between soloist and orchestra throughout these performances that makes them especially engaging.

The slow movement is wonderful: Vänskä finds a tempo--a touch slower than usual--that allows him to observe the "sempre staccato" indication and provide the necessary rhetorical weight to the strings' emphatic proclamations, while Sudbin's answers represent the soul of inward poetry. The finale, by contrast, is dazzling and uninhibited, with trumpets and drums cutting through the texture, and Sudbin's fast passage-work is joyous but never tonally forced or hard.

Indeed, it may sound odd to say so, but one of the joys of Sudbin's playing is his handling of simple scales and runs. Mozart once remarked how he delighted in making them "go like oil", with perfect smoothness, and that's just how Sudbin handles them. There are a lot of scales in these pieces, in the "Emperor" particularly. In its first movement, each major entrance (and exit) of the piano features a simple scale, and anyone who can make these as memorable and beautiful as Sudbin does is a major talent indeed. He has a particular way, in the Adagio for example, of rendering the melodic line expressive through control of touch and dynamics without distorting the rhythm, and this makes the music touching without excess sentimentality. It all seems very much in the spirit of Beethoven, as is the robust and perfectly-timed manner in which he and Vänskä launch the finale--grand in all of the right ways. The coda's huge, amazingly well-judged diminuendo and ritard only confirm the generally masterful impression. Gorgeous SACD sonics make this release a Beethoven experience you will not want to miss.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

The present recording of the Fourth Symphony of Johannes Brahms is the last one produced by OehmsClassics with Stanislaw Skrowaczewski. Thus many cycles lie dormant on CD and no more will follow. Nonetheless, a special birthday present for the phenomenal maestro is being prepared.

A weighty symphony, swaying Viennese waltzes and fiery Hungarian dances make up the colourful programme when Thomas Dausgaard and his Swedish Chamber Orchestra engage with Johannes Brahms in Opening Doors, the team's acclaimed series of Romantic orchestral composers. Johannes Brahms was only twenty years old when Robert Schumann hailed him as one whose genius gave rise to the greatest symphonic hopes. It is therefore striking that he didn't complete his First Symphony until more than twenty years later, in 1876 - even though the earliest sketches for it date back to 1855. Brahms - who once said that he constantly heard the 'giant' Beethoven 'marching behind him' - had such a deep respect for what his great predecessor had achieved with the genre that he for a long time doubted that he would ever be able to write a symphony of his own - by the time he did, it must have been gratifying to him that it was hailed as 'Beethoven's Tenth'. While working on the symphony, Brahms composed his Op.52, the cycle Liebeslieder-Walzer 'for piano four-hands (and song ad libitum)'. He kept the forces as flexible as possible: the waltzes were performable with or without voices; if used, the vocal parts could be sung either by soloists or by a choir. Even so, he was soon asked for another version, for choir and orchestra. Brahms initially rejected this idea, but finally agreed to make a partial orchestration: selecting eight of the Op.52 waltzes, he supplemented them with an early version of one of the not yet published Neue Liebeslieder-Walzer, Op.65. Around the same time, he was asked to orchestrate another collection of dances composed for piano four-hands: his first set of Hungarian Dances, which had quickly become a great hit. It took him four years to comply with this wish, and even then he only accepted to orchestrate three of the dances, leaving the field open for various other arrangers (including Dvorák) to satisfy the demand for more.

Robert Schumann's three Sonatas for violin and piano were all composed between 1851 and 1853. They - especially No.3 - have to some extent suffered from the same neglect and incomprehension that has been the fate of other works from this period in the composer's life, only a few years before he died in a mental institution. During the same years a number of other works for the violin saw the light, including the Violin Concerto and the Fantasy for violin and orchestra. The concertante works were written for the violinist Joseph Joachim, but it may have been a letter from Ferdinand David, concert master of the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra, that provided the initial impulse to compose chamber works for the violin: 'I am uncommonly fond of your Fantasiestücke for piano and clarinet; why don't you write something for violin and piano? ... How splendid it would be if you could write something of that kind, that your wife and I could play for you.' Here the performers are Ulf Wallin and Roland Pöntinen, a team who recorded their first disc for BIS in 1991, and whose partnership has been described as 'masterfully cultivated ensemble playing' on website ClassicsToday.com. Wallin's credentials in Schumann must also be regarded as firmly established, after his recently released recording of the violin concerto, the Fantasy and the arrangement for violin of the cello concerto. The reviewer in Daily Telegraph found it 'hard to imagine more sympathetic and insightful performances of these wonderful pieces', and his colleague on the German website Klassik-Heute agreed, describing Wallin as 'violinistically brilliant and musically perceptive'

Renaissance woman H�l�ne Grimaud is not just a deeply passionate and committed musical artist whose pianistic accomplishments play a central role in her life. She is a woman with multiple talents that extend far beyond the instrument she plays with such poetic expression and peerless technical control. The French artist has established herself as a committed wildlife conservationist, a compassionate human rights activist and as a writer. Now this is a small sensation: MDG is presenting H�l�ne Grimaud's early recordings for the DENON label from 1985 to 1992 in a set of two albums including great romantic repertoire by Brahms and Schumann. These recordings now once again available after many years, have been carefully restored and remastered by MDG master sound engineers and reveal an original artistic personality who achieved perfection at an early age and for whom the label "child prodigy" very evidently would be an understatement.

Le nozze in villa (‘The Wedding in the Villa’) tells the story of Sabina and the young Claudio. They are in love, but this match goes against the will of her father, who wants her to marry the Schoolmaster Trifoglio. Misunderstandings and tensions between city emancipation and provincial narrow-mindedness are resolved, and romance ultimately triumphs thanks to the alliance of ‘gracefulness, faith and youth’. This early and virtually unknown opera buffa by Donizetti is full of Rossini-influenced lyrical inventiveness and beautiful arias. Specially restored for the 2019 Bergamo Festival, this revival brings out all of the opera’s ‘sparkling spirit and melodiousness’ (bachtrack.com).

One of the composer's most beguiling scores, La Favorite is Gaetano Donizetti's La favorita in it's original French form; a tale of love and war that represents a glorious mix of Italian bel canto and 19th c. grand opera. Vincent Boussard's arresting Toulouse production does full justice to this newly renewed masterpiece. Three international principals take on the work's demanding roles: Chinese tenor Yijie Shi is a 'revelation' (La Depeche) as Fernand, the rich-toned, authoritative French baritone Ludovic Tezier as King Alphonse XI and lauded American mezzo Kate Aldrich - 'the Carmen of this generation' (San Francisco Sentinel) - plumbing the emotional depths of Leonor's music. Conductor and bel canto specialist Antonello Allemandi adds to the passionate proceedings onstage. Maestro Allemandi demonstrated full authority over the stage for the musically complex scenes, and in the arias and duets demonstrated his confidence in the singers by establishing ample tempos to support their soaring vocal lines... (Opera Today)

Also available on Blu-ray

Le nozze in villa (‘The Wedding in the Villa’) tells the story of Sabina and the young Claudio. They are in love, but this match goes against the will of her father, who wants her to marry the Schoolmaster Trifoglio. Misunderstandings and tensions between city emancipation and provincial narrow-mindedness are resolved, and romance ultimately triumphs thanks to the alliance of ‘gracefulness, faith and youth’. This early and virtually unknown opera buffa by Donizetti is full of Rossini-influenced lyrical inventiveness and beautiful arias. Specially restored for the 2019 Bergamo Festival, this revival brings out all of the opera’s ‘sparkling spirit and melodiousness’ (bachtrack.com).

Classical Music

Classical Music

•Pianist Jura Margulis recorded the present Schubert CD on a modern grand piano equipped with the built-on “sordino pedal” extension. Around the mid-19th century, this possibility of altering and extending the sound had largely disappeared from the canon of various pedal functions, but it was retained in Vienna until the early 20th century. Composers call this function “sordino” because the sound modification is related to the mutes of the string instruments.

Le nozze in villa (‘The Wedding in the Villa’) tells the story of Sabina and the young Claudio. They are in love, but this match goes against the will of her father, who wants her to marry the Schoolmaster Trifoglio. Misunderstandings and tensions between city emancipation and provincial narrow-mindedness are resolved, and romance ultimately triumphs thanks to the alliance of ‘gracefulness, faith and youth’. This early and virtually unknown opera buffa by Donizetti is full of Rossini-influenced lyrical inventiveness and beautiful arias. Specially restored for the 2019 Bergamo Festival, this revival brings out all of the opera’s ‘sparkling spirit and melodiousness’ (bachtrack.com).

Edward Gardner leads the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra in Schubert’s Symphonies Nos. 2 and 6 in this second volume in the acclaimed series. Chief Conductor of the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra since October 2015, Edward Gardner has led the musicians on multiple international tours, which have included performances in Berlin, Munich, and Amsterdam, and at the BBC Proms and Edinburgh International Festival. He was recently appointed Principal Conductor Designate of the London Philharmonic Orchestra, his tenure commencing in September 2021. In demand as a guest conductor, during the previous two seasons he made his debut with the New York Philharmonic, Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Rundfunk-Sinfonieorchester Berlin, and Wiener Symphoniker, as well as at The Royal Opera, Covent Garden in a new production of Káťa Kabanová, praised by The Guardianas a ‘magnificent interpretation’. He returned to the Gewandhausorchester Leipzig, Philharmonia Orchestra, and Orchestra del Teatro alla Scala di Milano. In April 2019, he conducted the London Philharmonic Orchestra at the Lincoln Center in New York.

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.



WEBER Symphonies: No. 1; No. 2. Andante e Rondo ungarese. 1 Bassoon Concerto in F 1 • Jean-Jacques Kantorow, cond; Jaakko Luoma (bn); 1 Tapiola Sinfonietta • BIS 1620 (Hybrid multichannel SACD: 67:42)


There is little that can be done for Weber’s gauche, mindless early symphonies, written when he was 21. They are all sparks and bombast, with colorful surfaces but virtually no content. Single woodwinds (there are no clarinets) generally carry the tunes, passing them around the section, while strings offer some relief; brass join in for consistently loud, fanfare-like tutti. The general consensus has been to play the symphonies as fast as possible (to get them over with?). Kantorow does that too, and his 40-piece orchestra, playing modern instruments with all the snap, sparkle, and tonal panache of period practice—more so than Roy Goodman’s period-instrument Hanover Band—makes the most of the symphonies, aided by BIS ’s usual sensational recorded sound. Luoma’s bassoon stands out among the winds; Roger Norrington’s London Classical Players have better-balanced wind soloists, but the overall performances are not as precise. The Second Symphony opens this disc, beginning with a stunning two-bar fanfare; unfortunately, it never does anything with it, making the 10-minute Allegro seem endless. As if the composer immediately recognized the problem, the following three movements whiz by in a mere eight minutes. After the “final” coda and a pause, two brief pp notes from bassoon and low strings bring the proceedings to a close. Haydn did everything better, including jokes and false endings.


Concerted pieces always inspired the best from Weber: three for clarinet, three more for piano, one each for oboe and French horn. These two for bassoon are the cream of that instrument’s repertoire (there also was a kid named Mozart). Playing a bassoon built in 2000 by Wilhelm Heckel—I don’t know if he is related to the creator of the heckelphone—Luoma sails through both works with the greatest of ease, producing consistently lovely tones. Whatever happened to that grumpy old instrument that was so difficult to play?


The First Symphony comes last, probably so that its Presto finale, the most successful movement of the eight, can wind up the disc with a bang. As fine as the CD is, SACD opens up the sound, giving it more life. Trumpets and strings gain clarity and presence, which makes the winds recede slightly from the spotlight. Surround sound adds an airy feeling, but doesn’t alter the basic sound. If you must have Weber’s symphonies, this is certainly the disc to get, especially so given the bonus bassoon works. But the others mentioned also include marvelous bonuses: Melvyn Tan plays the fortepiano Konzertstück with Norrington, and Anthony Halstead plays a natural horn in the Horn Concertino with Goodman.


FANFARE: James H. North


Finely honed performances of charming music played with relish.

These works were all written between 1807 and 1811, so pre-date Weber’s fame as an opera composer. He had just left Breslau, having survived a dreadful accident when his father, a printer, left a nitric acid solution in a wine glass which his son absent-mindedly then drank. His next post was a temporary one, when he went to Bad Carlsruhe and the court of Count Eugen Friedrich of Württemberg-?ls, who, being himself a fair oboist, encouraged Weber to compose. Both symphonies were written there during these idyllic few months, the first in C major in December 1807 and January 1808, the second (also in C major) later the same month. Reflecting the resources he found there, the scoring lacks one flute and most surprisingly there are no clarinets. Solos for the rest abound however, some of them very demanding, so standards must have been high. Obviously the oboe has his plate full, but the remaining winds, particularly the bassoon, are active, so too the French horn and some solo strings; in fact pretty well everyone has their fifteen seconds of fame. Written when Beethoven’s first three symphonies were already known, it is important to regard Weber’s more in Haydn’s style, with the crossing of the cusp between Classic and Romantic reflected more by orchestral colour than any disturbance of formal structure. Even so, these are not predictable works, in particular the finale of the Second, which stops and starts for individual solos before scampering on to the next pause like an American football game. This is Haydn’s wit at work. Much the same can be said of the First Symphony, which highlights individual wind players once again. It is full of confident orchestral outbursts on the one hand - the opera conductor here - and charming melodies of an almost rustic hue. At a minute and a half, the Minuet and Trio of the Second Symphony must be the shortest ever. Note that this recording inexplicably starts with the Second Symphony and ends with the First, easy to miss that as both are in the same key.

The rest of the fare is devoted to two concerted works for bassoon and orchestra. The brief Andante and Hungarian Rondo was originally composed in 1809 for Weber’s violist brother Fritz, while the bassoon transcription was made for the virtuoso player Georg Friedrich Brandt with some inevitably consequent changes. The Rondo’s rhythms emphasise the Hungarian flavour of the music. Weber’s writing exploits fully the facility of the instrument, its agility over a wide range of notes, tonal quality, and its lyrical as well as comical element. It was in March 1810 that he found himself conducting a concert with the Munich Court Orchestra, its programme including a clarinet concertino he had written for Heinrich Bärmann. Its success encouraged the orchestra’s principal players to ask for solo works, so two concertos for clarinet followed in 1811 and, on 28 December, a bassoon concerto for Brandt. He made some revisions in 1822, expression and dynamic indications expanded and some string accompaniments rewritten, and this is the version heard on this CD.

The performances by Jaako Luoma are finely honed in both works. His instrument paints a wide palette of colour, his phrasing is stylish. The Tapiola Sinfonietta under its former (1993-2000) director Jean-Jacques Kantorow match him in detail in a cleanly balanced recording. Both symphonies are played with relish, all solo opportunities exploited to the full. The music is charming, but Weber is surely still going to be remembered best for his operas and their overtures, but at least it gives clarinettists and, in this instance, bassoonists a chance to shine. 

-- Christopher Fifield, MusicWeb International 

Issac Albeniz, the pre-eminent Spanish composer was a prolific composer, especially of piano music. Presented here is a collection of his works performed by the celebrated pianist, Martin Jones. Included in this collection are pieces that were left unfinished at the time of Albeniz’s death and completed by Martin Jones. Martin Jones has been one of Britain’s most highly regarded solo pianists since first coming to international attention in 1968 when he received the Dame Myra Hess Award. The same year he made his London debut at the Queen Elizabeth Hall and his New York debut at Carnegie Hall, and ever since has been in demand for recitals and concerto performances on both sides of the Atlantic. He is a prolific recording artist and his many major projects include the complete solo piano works of Mendelssohn, Brahms, Debussy, Grainger, Stravinsky, Korngold, Szymanowski, Granados, Guastavino, Mompou, Ernesto Halffter, Joaquin Nin, Has Gál, Jean Françaix, Jean Roger-Ducasse, and Alan Richardson.

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REVIEW:

Altogether this is a well stocked and representative survey of Albéniz's colourful and imaginative piano music and Martin Jones is as always a convincing advocate; I am always impressed with character and panache that he brings to all that he plays. The liner notes are informative though are in English only. A marvellous collection of the best of Albéniz' piano music.

– MusicWeb International

Classical Music

Aïda Stucki's recognition as an artist is both inevitable and overdue. Her artistry is a timeless inspiration. Her interpretation incorporates bewitching sound, personal instinct coupled with great insight to the wishes of the composer. These recordings are a must for any string player and music lover. This second volume of her works shows her broad repertoire, and includes works from Brahms, Schumann, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, and Dvorak.

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

A generation of strict musicologists, literalist critics, and unimaginative performers will be offended by Freddy Kempf’s traversal of Beethoven’s three most approachable “name” sonatas, because the young Englishman is by no means strict, literal, or unimaginative. He seems to be goading us with the very first chord of the “Pathétique,” sustaining only the left-hand notes, creating an unexpectedly blunt strike against the keyboard (an effect he reproduces every time that passage repeats). The introductory material is full of hesitations and rubato that call to mind C. P. E. Bach, and the main theme takes off like the proverbial bat out of hell. Never does Kempf’s handling of the music seem arbitrary, but it is surprising enough to keep jaded listeners alert.

There’s tenderness and repose here, too, notably in the second movement of the “Pathétique,” although this movement also has its odd dull moments. The over-famous first movement of the “Moonlight” sonata is full of unexpected detail, although it is neither sentimentalized nor excessively dramatized. The final movement is fleet and assertive, with immaculate passagework, all the while Kempf proving that it’s not necessary to hammer the klavier. The “Appassionata” has fewer surprises, yet it’s keenly organized (listen to his absolutely right transition into the final presto pages), and fiery in the outer movements. In DSD surround mode, the recorded sound is close in a reverberant space, perhaps a bit harder in forte passages than is ideal; it’s more generalized and quite solid in two-channel CD playback.

Kempf’s Beethoven, while by no means outlandish (certainly not by the standards of a century ago), will not please listeners who frown on any little departure from the printed score. But it’s full of panache that never misrepresents Beethoven, and it’s that rarest of things, a new standard-rep recording individual enough to justify being released into a crowded market.

James Reel, FANFARE

A one-act opera, Elvida is a short “dramatic action” which in effect “has nothing historical”, as is stated in the libretto’s “topic”, it didn’t take inspiration from any drama, short novel, or previous texts by others, inventing everything and almost preferring probabilities to the truth. Closely following the instructions received, Donizetti didn’t even compose a symphony or prelude and accepted the frugality of recitative; in the manuscript, he left no sign of the tenor’s aria, the one intended for Rubini, with which he counted on pleasing the public, because he hadn’t time to write it and therefore missed the opportunity, or maybe because (as was the practice with parody, of composers borrowing from their other works, and use of “trunk” or “suitcase” arias) he didn’t write anything new, leaving the famous Rubini to insert an aria he liked (which the composer obviously liked too). Nonetheless, the 29 year-old musician committed himself body and soul to the manner, the “Rossini-ism” and the style of his maestro Mayr; and in fact sketched a small, clear and accurate score, perfectly suited to the singers’ personalities and never forgot the art of writing, the proper arrangement of the parts, classical singing and melodic invention.

Classical Music

These performances, recorded in 2009/10, are not Delos reissues. If you’ve heard Gerard Schwarz’s Mahler recordings, you will know that his recent work reveals a distinctive and compelling way with romantic music, miles away from his stiff early recordings of Mozart and Haydn. This Dvorák Sixth is wholly personal and worth getting to know. Contrast seems to have become the name of the game. The first movement, with its exposition repeat intact, is uncommonly swift and exciting, the Adagio unusually slow—a real adagio—but still lyrical and flowing. In Schwarz’s hands the music takes on a larger aspect than it usually does.

The scherzo has plenty of the necessary fire, but the finale is also different (legitimately so) from any other version. In the coda, for example, Schwarz has the strings execute their fugato a touch slower than it typically goes, but with great precision, leading to a truly grand reading of the final pages. In every movement Schwarz varies the pulse effectively within a phrase, making effective use of slight ritards and accents to maintain interest. It’s just thoughtful, intelligent music making, with an orchestra able to follow the conductor’s every whim.

Janácek’s Idyll makes an unusual but effective coupling, dating as it does from two years before the symphony. In seven movements lasting some 30 minutes, the piece sounds a lot like Dvorák (albeit without the tunes) and wholly unlike the Janácek on which his reputation rests. Once again, the performance is warm and captivating, the string playing often luscious in sonority. This very enjoyable, well-engineered disc should excite the interest of Dvorák fans; it came as a very pleasant surprise.

– ClassicsToday.com

Import Hybrid-SACD pressing.