On this CD Argentinean pianist Carmen Piazzini presents Brahms' late pianistic works with a luminescence and poetic sensibility of tone that give the works new lyricism and radiance. Piazzini is one of today's most important pianists, with a sound reputation founded not only on her sensational recordings but on her compelling musicianship.

Also available on Blu-ray

Taken live from the stage of the Macerata (Italy) Festival in July and August of 2016, this performance has much to recommend it despite the fact that none of the singers are familiar names. This is the kind of regional performance that the big American companies should be listening to.

Never having heard of the soprano singing Leonora, Anna Pirozzi, I checked Operabase and discovered that she sings all over Europe–plenty at Covent Garden–and that her repertoire is all of the heavy Verdi roles: Abigaille, Lady Macbeth, Aida, Amelia, and Leonora. I wouldn’t bet on her Abigaille or Lady Macbeth, but her performance here is nothing less than spectacular.

The voice is big, with a rock-solid middle register, a steely edge to the high Bs, Cs, and D-flats, and a strong bottom, which avoids chest voice for the most part. But she also can spin long, high pianissimo phrases with a Caballé-like ease. The sound is attractive (though not in the Caballé class), her Convent Scene is a model of soft, legato singing, and her entire fourth act is nothing less than magnificent. And she throws herself into the text.

Marco Caria is a very good Luna with great ease in his upper third, a fine legato, and a nice sneer. But the voice, even on a recording, sounds a bit small for the part, and when he pushes for a bigger sound the microphones catch it and he sounds a bit desperate. But for the most part, he’s a valuable addition, a true Italian voice.

Piero Pretti as Manrico is a big lyric whose schedule includes Riccardo (Ballo), Rodolfo (Bohème), and Gualtiero (Pirata), as well as more Manricos, through September 2018. The sound is appealing and well-centered, the high notes–he takes “Di quella pira” in key–admirable and solid. But he’s a size too small for the part. He’s inaudible in the stretta to the first-act finale as well as in his duets with Azucena. And in the final scene, when he should be overpowering Leonora, he simply isn’t. Try him, you’ll like him, but think of Manricos of the past and he’s a miniature.

Enkelejda Shkosa is a more internationally known singer. Her Azucena is just about perfect despite a too-quick “Stride la vampa”; Azucena’s extreme anxiety is audible throughout. Shkosa’s third act is gloriously sung, and if the conductor and recording engineers had opted for more volume it would have torn down the house. The others are all very good, paying heed to what they’re singing, and Alessandro Spina’s Ferrando is solid.

Daneil Oren’s leadership has to be judged by the fact that this was recorded over a period of a few performances, and accordingly voice/orchestra balances vary from scene to scene. And in the Tower Scene, Manrico sounds like he is standing next to Leonora. Nonetheless, Oren totally understands mid-Verdi and differentiates beautifully between the exclamatory and, for want of a better term, “post bel canto” moments in the score. He gives the singers leeway in the arias but keeps a tight rein otherwise. The sound is clear, but as mentioned, the volume levels keep changing.

In all, though–and this is the point of even reviewing this recording–aside from Netrebko’s recent outing, this is the best Trovatore to be released in quite a while. There is, by the way, a DVD and Blu-ray video of this performance. It is all in reds and blacks, with plenty of fire. The look is gothic.

– ClassicsToday (Robert Levine)

In addition to his world-famous marches, John Philip Sousa was a master of the piquant Humoresque, of which there are two examples here. The first, On the 5.15, is a popular song detailing the travails of a commuter, while the second, The Band Came Back, introduces popular tunes in witty fashion. The sonorous Second Fantasia from El Capitan showcases the band’s bravura qualities and The Fighting Race draws on a trombone solo. There are charming detours to explore rural Americana in the form of Sheep and Goat (‘Walkin to the Pasture’) and the evergreen classic, Turkey in the Straw.

As soon as I saw Bizet: Complete Piano Music listed as a new release on the Naxos website, I realized that I had never before even thought of Georges Bizet in relation to piano compositions or piano music. I listened to the album for the first time with trepidation. Was there a reason his piano works had evaded popularity for so long? Was there a reason that quick checks of the internet revealed only two recorded piano recitals of Bizet prior to this one, neither offering the “complete” works?

Not all of this music is especially memorable, and none of it is profound. But one can safely slot Bizet into the tradition of Moszkowski, Paderewski, Mendelssohn, Gottschalk and others as a composer of admirable, charming little salon miniatures which, one imagines, gave amateurs of the day considerable pleasure and provided the composers with respectable calling-cards at evening parties. Even in this field, I would not credit Bizet with the originality some of those other composers exhibited in their works for piano.

Julia Severus has carefully and cleverly programmed her two discs here. Each begins with lighter fare, progresses through a smart alternation of serious and slight, and ends with one of the L’Arlésienne suites, arranged for piano by the composer. The two nocturnes on CD 1 are reminiscent more of Mendelssohn’s Songs without Words than anything by Chopin, and I prefer the lovely cantabile F major to the less-inspired example in D. There are several waltzes bathed in the perfume of the salons of Paris. The C major waltz really is a clever delight with some surprises in store, although the “Grand valse de concert” does not have a main tune nearly as hummable as Moszkowski’s work by the same title. The three Esquisses include a “Ronde turque” which impressed me as sounding quite a lot more authentically Turkish than almost any other western piece bearing that title.

The most dramatic work on CD 1 is Variations chromatiques, the chromatic passages of which serve up high drama and empty virtuosity in equal measure before the piece turns into a rather pedestrian, wandering “happy romantic” piece near the middle. An ominous ending, consciously imitative of Beethoven, barely manages to save it. The four Preludes are refreshing and nicely varied in mood, although they add up to just three minutes’ worth of music. The two Caprices are rather longer and I actually found the first quite interesting in its spicy blend of minor mode, sly attitude and stealthy rhythms. Again, think of Moszkowski, or perhaps even of a Chopin mazurka. Both Caprices sound as if they are just waiting to be orchestrated; by contrast, the first L’Arlésienne suite has been de-orchestrated here, and the beginning of the introduction does sound rather naked. In fact, it sounds like a fugue subject waiting to be put into counterpoint. The rest of the suite goes better; indeed, the minuet and carillons are quite successful as piano pieces.

The second CD opens with the longest work in the set: Chants du Rhin, a series of tone-pictures with titles like “Les rêves” which lasts for a little over twenty minutes. Even this work manages to be cutesy; “La bohémienne” is like a Chopin waltz composed by an inebriate. I think Julia Severus takes the opening movement a bit too quickly, but the others are better - “Les confidences” in particular is a well-voiced song begging for words. The most striking moment of the Magasin des familles comes near the end of the “Méditation réligieuse,” when Bizet caps off the piece with some unexpected, indeed totally out of place, fortissimo chords. Better is the second L’Arlésienne suite, which succeeds as a piano piece all the way through, especially the dance episode in the middle of the Pastorale and the dazzling passagework in the center of the final Farandole.

A few miniatures fill out the remainder of the set, all of them from essentially the same “songs without words” mold. The only Venetian characteristic I can detect in “Venise” is its melancholy mood, something like (one might say, creatively) a city reflecting that its best centuries are behind it. A “Romance sans paroles” is rather sans interest. The surprisingly Latin American “Marine” hints that Julia Severus would probably be a great performer of samba, ragtime and composers like Gershwin and Ernesto Nazareth.

I was surprised to realize that Bizet had even written piano music, so this set counts as a pleasant discovery. That some of the works, particularly the waltz in C, nocturne in F, “Marine”, and a few excerpts from L’Arlésienne, are actually very good makes this an even better surprise. Julia Severus is reliable and sensitive to the music’s lyricism and supplies her own well-written liner-notes, and the recorded sound is warm and close. This piano music is generally not too special - in fact none of it is “special” except maybe the sudden Brazilian turn of “Marine” - but all of it is, at a minimum, rather pretty, and “rather pretty” is a good thing to be. If you are fond of rather pretty piano music, here are two discs full of it waiting to be heard.

– Brian Reinhart, MusicWeb International

Violinist Antje Weithaas stands for highest musicality, exquisite technique, and fabulous playing and artistry. On this release, she plays the solo part of these works, and also leads the Camerata Bern Orchestra. She explains her own reading of the score which in some cases is different from the “standard” reading: “I wanted to record Tchaikovsky for several reasons. Most importantly, I love Tchaikovsky’s music, particularly the two works featured on this recording. I wanted to coax the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto out of the corner of virtuoso tradition, which it has occupied until now. In certain aspects, an established way of playing it has become somewhat cemented over the last decades. But neither do I see that approach justified in the score, nor does it correspond with my view of Tchaikovsky as a musician and a human being. We all found it thrilling to challenge and question our previous experience with this piece, both as performers and as listeners, and to tackle it as if it was new to us…”

Borrowing the title from Proust’s great novel, Imogen Cooper’s latest recital features a collection of pieces that she learnt as a teenager in Paris, or in her twenties working with Alfred Brendel in Vienna, but none of which she has performed on the concert platform, or really played at all in the intervening years. Cooper studied in Paris from 1961-67 with Jacques Février (who had known Ravel well), Yvonne Lefébure (who had known Alfred Cortot), and Germaine Mounier. She started to wonder about the messages from her teachers she would find on her scores, and about the nature of memory. She was also interested to see if the repertoire she has acquired since she learnt these pieces would change her view, or shed a new light. This highly personal recital is an exemplar of Imogen Cooper’s outstanding pianism and musicianship.

On its new release, the Doric String Quartet turns to the music of Franz Schubert. It is the Quartet’s fifth release for Chandos, and the discography has gone from strength to strength. MusicWeb International said of the recent Korngold release (CHAN 10707): ‘The Doric Quartet seem to have a Midas touch, and any repertoire they commit to disc comes out sparkling.’ Their Schumann release (CHAN 10692) was ‘Recording of the Month’ in both Gramophone and BBC Music.

In March 1824, despite describing himself as ‘the most unhappy and wretched creature in the world’, Schubert completed not only the great Octet, but also the two String Quartets recorded here.

The String Quartet in D minor is considered the greatest of Schubert’s late quartets, mainly on account of its raw emotional honesty, which reaches an almost unendurable pitch in the second movement, a set of variations based on Schubert’s song Der Tod und das Mädchen. All four movements are driven by extensively repeated rhythmic figures, reminiscent of the musical style of Schubert’s great idol, Beethoven.

Full of Schubertian ambivalence, the String Quartet in A minor is a deeply intimate work. The opening, expressing brooding sadness, is played by the first violin over a restless accompaniment, subsequently interrupted by flurries of almost manic energy. In the second movement, Schubert ‘borrowed’ the main melody from the third Entr’acte of his incidental music to the play Rosamunde, Fürstin von Zypern (1823) by Wilhelmine von Chézy.

- Chandos

“In a word I feel myself the most unhappy and wretched creature in the world. Imagine a man whose health will never be right again, and who in sheer despair over this ever makes things worse and worse instead of better ...but I have tried my hand at several instrumental things ... in fact, I intend to pave the way towards a grand symphony in this manner.” These extracts from a letter of 1824 epitomize to me the paradox of Schubert, the manic-depressive composer. On the one hand his music has that world-weary element of profound grief – ‘the most wretched creature in the world’ – and on the other a life-affirming exuberance bordering on the manic that characterizes the Wanderer-Fantasie and parts of the D major sonata D.850. Here, Llyr Williams plays a collection of Schubert solo piano works across a series of releases, once again showing why he is one of the most diverse and extraordinary pianists performing today.

In 2005 Igor Levit and Xiaohan Wang performed, together with the Kolner Kammerorchester under Helmut Müller-Brühl, as outstanding talents of the semi-final of the “International Beethoven Competition for Piano Bonn”. The competition had been initiated in the same year by the then President of the Federal Republic of Germany Horst Kohler. The young pianists, today successful all over the world, performed on that occasion Beethoven's piano concertos nos. 1 and 2. On this recording, Igor Levit performs the First Concerto, and Xiaohan Wang the Second.

Norma is considered not only Bellini’s masterpiece, but also one of the best 19th century operas tout court. Yet, its premiere at La Scala in 1831, three months from the beginning of its composition, was received with a coldness that surprised even Bellini. However, in the space of a few days Norma dispelled all doubts and started on a triumphant journey. This production was recorded at the Macerata Opera Festival, and features a superb cast. It was a particularly great success for Uruguayan soprano Maria Jose Siri, who performs the title role, and Italian mezzo Sonia Ganassi who is Adalgisa. “A perfect synthesis of cast, direction, sets, lighting, and costumes,” according to Italian critics. The aria “Casta diva” received a standing ovation.

Dvorák’s Requiem seems to be making a comeback, with new recordings by Järvi, Jansons, and best of all, this one by Antoni Wit, featuring the excellent Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra and Choir and four first-class soloists. It’s not an easy work to bring off as far as requiems go. Less histrionic than the Berlioz, less operatic than the Verdi, the work is symphonic in conception and structure, with a chromatic “death” motive that runs through most of its movements, and tightly integrated textures requiring careful balances between the soloists, choir, and orchestra.

The work’s architecture is impressive: two parts, each containing a central pillar marked off by repetitions of a big chorus, the Dies irae in Part One, and the Quam olim Abrahae (the catchiest choral fugue in the entire 19th century) in Part Two. That Dvorák was clearly thinking in terms of balance and large-scale structure is shown by his placement of the Pie Jesu between the Sanctus and the Agnus Dei. Normally it forms part of the Dies irae sequence, but here it represents an island of repose before the large-scale, recapitulatory finale, while bringing the timing of the second part more in line with the first.

One of the most interesting things about the Requiem is that, unlike almost all of its predecessors, it does not end with a vision of consolation. In fact, the conclusion is remarkably unsentimental, even grim, with Dvorák returning to the “death” motive and staying in a minor key right up to the final bar. Conceptually it’s more like Mahler’s Sixth, with its “fate” motives, than virtually any other contemporary work, and this fact may account for the music’s comparative neglect. It is, without question, a masterpiece.

Hitherto there have been two great recordings: Ancerl’s on Supraphon, and Kertesz’s on Decca. This one effortlessly joins them. Wit just may be the best conductor around these days for big choral works such as this (remember his knockout Mahler Eighth). He finds more ear-catching detail in the music than anyone else has to date. Even the biggest climaxes of the Dies irae never turn thick and heavy. The flowing tempos certainly help, but there is throughout a remarkable clarity to the textures that reveals a real podium master directing a first-class ensemble.

The soloists, who have a lot to do, are also uniformly excellent. In Christiane Libor we have a soprano with plenty of heft to the voice without a hint of shrillness; tenor Daniel Kirch never sounds like he’s crooning; Janusz Monarcha is a real bass, with no trace of wobble anywhere in his tone, while Ewa Wolak never sounds like she’d be better off taking the contralto lead in Gilbert and Sullivan. They are marvelous both singly and as a group, particularly in the mostly solo Recordare. First class engineering makes this a wonderfully satisfying release that hopefully will win many new friends for this powerfully expressive and masterful work.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

If the legend of the ‘sermon to the birds’ constitutes a magnificent example of narrative art on the piano, for this way of expressing extra-musical ideas solely with notes the three series of Années de Pèlerinage would seem to be a salient cycle in Liszt’s oeuvre. These ‘years of pilgrimage’ contain a total of 26 character pieces, forming a kind of musical diary for Liszt’s years of travelling. After the very successful release of Volume 1 ("Svizzerland") the young and talented italian pianist Francesco Piemontesi takes care of the second part, "Italy". Again, an impressive movie accompany the pianist on his trip through Italy, on the traces of Franz Liszt. This release shows not only the beauty of the landscape but also interesting statements of Francesco Piemontesi about his actual recording.

This third volume of Naxos' ongoing series of Liszt tone poems under Michael Halász is easily the best so far. These pieces have such a bad reputation today that I suspect listeners may be surprised to discover that they contain quite a bit of really attractive music. Festklänge begins with one of Liszt's most arresting ideas, remarkably modern in character with harmony that doesn't have to be chromatic to sound interesting. Halász and the New Zealand Symphony deliver a sparkling performance, impulsive and rhythmically taut, and the work sounds much shorter than its 18-minute length might suggest. That is no mean achievement in music that admittedly has structural issues and tends to drag in less enthusiastic hands.


Ce qu'on entend sur la montagne also goes very well. The natural sonics capture the atmospheric opening (with its then-novel bass drum rolls) very effectively. If you know your Sibelius, you will recognize these first few minutes as the conceptual forebear of the Finnish composer's En Saga. Yes, the work's various sections tend to lie side by side rather than flow inevitably into one another, but it's a lovely piece that doesn't deserve its current neglect in the concert hall. Hunnenschlacht is just plain fun: a noisy battle followed by an organ-led apotheosis. Once again Halász and company deliver the goods, with fine playing and a vivid sense of drama. Also, to their credit, they don't linger over the less-interesting music representing the "good guys". In short, these are intelligent and effective performances that deliver maximum bang for your buck. Give them a shot.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

This is already our third encounter with the great Polish composer Fryderyk Chopin – an encounter, in fact, that is as unusual as his music, which has delighted people around the world for over one hundred and fifty years. In Fryderyk’s day, not everybody was able to listen to his works. To hear one of his concerts they would have had to travel to where he lived – in his early years that meant going to Warsaw, and later even further, i.e. to Paris. Today, all we have to do is listen to one of his albums and imagine that the genius composer is playing especially for us.

Under the dual influences of Goethe and Berlioz, Wagner wrote A Faust Overture in Paris. Years later, in 1855, he returned to the work, revising it to create an even greater sense of drama and narrative conviction. In the excerpts from his romantic opera Lohengrin we hear the visionary Prelude to Act I and the Act III Prelude, which includes the well-known Wedding March. Elsa’s Dream is sung by the internationally acclaimed soprano, Alessandra Marc. The orchestral music from Parsifal contains some of the most transcendent music Wagner ever wrote.

On Haik Kazazyan's first album for Delos, Opera Fantasies, the brilliant American violin virtuoso demonstrated the fiery, passioante, and technically astonishing sides of his artistry. And the same musical virtues are certainly on display here, in his glowing rendition of the three violin sonatas by the Norwegian master Edvard Grieg. In this new album - with dazzling and soulful collaboration from the rising young Russian piano wizard Philipp Kopachevsky - he also applies the sensitivity, subtlety, and interpretive insight needed to bring these three chamber masterpieces to vibrant life. Composed across a period ranging from Grieg's early twenties through middle age, these comparatively unfamiliar pieces not only confirm the composer's winning ways with melodic invention and nationalistic impulse, but also serve as a revealing guide to Grieg's evolution as a composer.

This disc offers about an hour's worth of choice bits from Borodin's Prince Igor. On one hand, we find the usual selections, including the ever-popular Polovtsian Dances, along with the Overture and Polovtsian March, familiar from various recordings (of which Tjeknavorian on RCA is among the best). But there also are a few numbers that will be unknown to listeners not experienced with the complete work, such as the blustery "I don't like boredom", sung with cocky swagger by bass Taras Shtonda.


The real catch here is the mezzo-soprano aria "Daylight is Fading", which contains one of Borodin's more bewitchingly beautiful melodies sung with heartfelt passion (and what sounds like authentic Arabian vocal styling) by Angelina Shvachka. Tenor Dmytro Popov sounds wonderfully ardent in the love song "Slowly the day was fading", while the poignant "There is neither sleep nor rest" makes fine use of Mykola Koval's rich, burnished baritone.


The Kiev Chamber Choir women make sweetly seductive captive maidens in the favorite Polovtsian Dance No. 2, just as the Polovtsian men sound suitably threatening proclaiming the glory of Khan. Theodore Kuchar leads an alternately gritty and graceful rendition with excellent playing from the Ukraine National Radio Symphony. The somewhat dry recording imparts a slightly hard-edged quality to the voices but otherwise projects substantial depth and dynamic range.
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

It is difficult to talk of Alberto Zedda in the past tense. Zedda was a person of such enthusiasm that it immediately rubbed off on all those who approached him. In addition to being an excellent conductor, he was an organizer of cultural events, a highly-efficient manager, full of ideas, who put at the service of music his omnivorous culture. For Dynamic Alberto Zedda recorded live Rossini’s Otello, Semiramide and Armida. Partially written in 1831 and only completed at the end of 1841, Rossini’s Stabat Mater was premiered in Paris, at the Theatre Italien, on January 7, 1842, delivered by fine soloists: Giulia Grisi, Emma Albertazzi, Mario de Candia and Antonio Tamburini. It has always been the composer’s best-known and most popular sacred work, because of the power of its dramatic contrasts and beautiful melodies, which make of it one of the masterpieces of Italian 19th-century sacred music, worthy of a place beside Giuseppe Verdi’s Messa da Requiem.

Classical Music

On her PENTATONE debut album, young German star soprano Anna Lucia Richter explores the heart-wrenching, timeless and universal feeling of Heimweh (homesickness) through a collection of extraordinary Schubert songs. Richter approaches the notion of Heimweh from several perspectives: from that of queens, young girls and shepherds to that of soldiers, dwarfs and gravediggers.

The repertoire consists of the original, German-language version of Ave Maria, three Mignon songs (Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt, Heiss micht nicht reden and So lasst mich scheinen), the sinister Der Zwerg, the expansive flower ballad Viola and many others. Richter is accompanied by pianist Gerold Huber, with whom she has formed a congenial Lieder tandem in the last years. They are joined by clarinetist Matthias Schorn on the final song of the program, the quasi concert aria Der Hirt auf dem Felsen.

REVIEWS:

The soprano Anna Lucia Richter has recorded a CD with a running time of almost eighty-one minutes. The program consists exclusively of songs by Franz Schubert. It begins with "To the Moon" and ends with "The Shepherd on the Rock". The CD was released by Pentatone (PTC 5186 839). On the beautifully rendered cover, the young singer falls from heaven like an angel from Tintoretto. It has become customary to place song productions under a specific theme; this time, it's about homesickness. A wide field, and Schubert and his lyricists promise a rich harvest. For the foreword in the booklet, the artist even consulted Grimm's dictionary and found out that the word homesickness entered general usage at the beginning of the 18th century. And she wonders if homesickness is "not actually the desire" to find something on the outside that can actually only be created on the inside.

The lyrical titles suit her better than the ballad-like “Zwerg”, in which the voice reaches its limits in the effort to colorfully embellish the dramatic events...the so-called flower ballad "Viola," based on a text by Schubert's friend Franz von Schober, consists of nineteen verses, which Richter joins together with a discreet design, so that the thirteen minutes fly by. This work is rarely heard and sounds like a major discovery in the context of the album. The singer, who impressively takes on a speaking part with the melodrama "Farewell from the Earth", elevates the entire recital.

-- Opera Lounge

This new release is the penultimate album of the Paganini Complete Edition in 40 releases. Included on this album is the première world recording of the original version of three very famous works by Paganini- Le Streghe M.S. 19, Non più mesta M.S. 22 and I Palpiti M.S. 77. In the Genoese violinist’s intention, the violin was to be tuned a semitone higher. The violin part, in D major, therefore sounds as if it were written in E flat major, which is the key of the orchestral accompaniment. During the 19th century, the practice of tuning the instrument higher was abandoned. Bulgarian violinist Mario Hossen courageously tackles it, allowing us to hear, for the first time since Paganini’s time, these works as they were written. The album includes another première recording, that of the Religiosa introduzione al rondò del campanello M.S. 67/1, first version of the Couvent du Mont St. Bernard M.S. 67. Dr. Mario Hossen is artistic director of the Camerata Orphica and the International Music Academy Orpheus, Vienna. He plays a violin by Giovanni Battista Guadagnini, Milan 1749, on loan from the Osterreichische Nationalbank’s collection.

Le Balcon, founded in 2008, is an artistic collective that has made a name for itself with highly original creations (Eötvös, Boulez, Stockhausen, etc.) combining sonic and visual innovations. In this, the very first disc made by Le Balcon and its conductor Maxime Pascal, who recently won the Nestlé and Salzburg Festival Young Conductors Award, the masterpiece of Berlioz is recomposed – or decomposed – by the young composer Arthur Lavandier and recorded in 3D sound!

Le Balcon takes a keen interest in technological issues related to sound reproduction, and here offers an original approach by superimposing three recording processes (transaural, binaural, 5.1), each dedicated to a specific medium: physical disc, web, video. The recording was made at the Conservatoire d’Art Dramatique in Paris, in the very hall where the Symphonie fantastique was premiered in 1830. For the ‘March to the Scaffold’, Le Balcon, which has a very open-minded attitude to amateur music making, collaborated with a street band from Carcassonne, ‘Tonton à faim’! A final point worth noting: the bronze bells used in the "Dream of a Witches’ Sabbath" (300 and 600 kg) were cast specially for the recording by the Festival Berlioz at La Côte Saint-André.

This is the first release in a series that inaugurates a new type of partnership initiated by Alpha, which presents highly creative musical ensembles like Le Balcon while leaving them in total control of their project from A to Z, from production through to communication.

Robert Fuchs (1847-1927) is best known today as the composition teacher of Mahler, Sibelius, Enesco, Korngold, Schreker, Zemlinsky, and just about everyone else who happened to be at the Vienna Conservatory from the late 19th century onward. As a composer he earned the respect of Brahms, probably because Brahms didn't feel threatened by him, and was totally forgotten after his death. During his lifetime he was best known for his string serenades, two of which feature on this recording, along with the late (and quite substantial) Andante and Capriccio Op. 63.

Let's get straight to the point: the music is wonderful--gracious, tuneful, not a note too long, and an unalloyed delight from first note to last. Yes, it's not "heavy" or "serious", but really, who cares? If you like Dvorák's or Tchaikovsky's string serenades, or Grieg's Holberg Suite, or Sibelius' Valse triste, then you are going to love this disc. The performances are perfect: flowing, rhythmically clean and snappy, immaculately tuned, and affectionately phrased. It just doesn't get any better, and the sonics are pristine. The Viennese, of course, have always been suckers for light music, but that only made them particularly discerning. They went crazy for Fuchs. Check out this disc and find out why.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

---------------



FUCHS Serenades: No. 1 in D; No. 2 in C. Andante grazioso and Capriccio • Christian Ludwig, cond; Cologne CO • NAXOS 8.572222 (53:52)


His friends called him “Serenaden-Fuchs” (Serenading Fox), a pun on his name, while the sparingly complimentary Brahms praised him as a “splendid musician.” He was Robert Fuchs (1847–1927), an Austrian composer and professor of theory and composition at the Vienna Conservatory whose students comprised an extraordinary roll-call of up-and-coming talents: Enescu, Korngold, Mahler, Melartin, Sibelius, Schmidt, Schreker, Wolf, and Zemlinsky.


As a musical genre the serenade found itself largely neglected after Mozart, at least until Brahms revived it with his two symphonic-scaled serenades in the late 1850s. Despite Mozart’s lending a greater gravity to the form, especially with his so-called “Gran Partita,” the genre continued to carry the stigma of its 18th-century antecedent as a type of lightweight, summer’s eve, al fresco entertainment, at a time when Austro-German Romanticism in particular saw itself as cultural custodian of the serious and the profound. Thus, even after Brahms’s two mid 19th-century examples, it would be another 25 years before composers would enrich the repertoire with serenades that, in content and dimensions, resembled symphonies or symphonic suites in all but name.


When Fuchs came to compose his First Serenade in 1874, his main models were the two efforts by Brahms and the three serenades by Robert Volkmann (1869–70). But by the time he got around to composing his fifth and final serenade in 1894, many masterly and magnificent serenades had already made their way into the world: Dvo?ák (1878), Tchaikovsky (1880), Strauss (1882), Wolf (1887), Suk (1892), and Elgar (1892), and not long after, Reinecke (1898); Dohnányi (1902), Sinding (1902 and 1909), Reger (several between 1904 and 1906), and Stenhammar (1913) would add to the growing list.


If the serenades had been Fuchs’s only contribution to music, it might explain why he virtually vanished from the mainstream almost immediately after his death, even though he’d been highly regarded in his own day. But the fact is that Fuchs worked in all the major musical media and his output, which included symphonies, concertos, a large volume of chamber works, three masses, and two operas, was considerable and diverse. And all of it—at least the works I’ve heard—is nothing but expertly crafted and melodically inspired.


Of Fuchs’s five serenades, the first three are scored for strings only and the fourth adds only two horns to the string ensemble. In the string-only pieces, however, textural richness is achieved through division of parts, so that for much of the time we are hearing six or even seven voices. Sometimes the violas play divided parts; other times, first or second violins are divided; and still other times violins and violas are divided at the same time. This lends both breadth and depth to the writing, allowing for greater fullness and luminosity to the sound as well as greater flexibility to the interplay of voices as they overlap and weave around each other.


As I said, if the serenades were Fuchs’s sole contribution to music, his disappearance from the scene might not be so surprising, for I will be the first to admit that these are not the stuff great reputations are made of. They were popular in their day precisely because they were the popular music of the day. As one listens to these serenades, especially their fast-paced movements, it’s easy to discern how Fuchs’s style was influenced by the polkas and quadrilles of Johann Strauss Jr., another composer, by the way, much admired by Brahms. So associating Fuchs with this type of crowd-pleasing entertainment music is not to denigrate him as a composer. His symphonies, concertos, and chamber works tell us that he was a man of both talent and substance. His serenades are tuneful, occasionally touching, and always enjoyable, reminding me in ways of some of Grieg’s orchestral music, like the Lyric Suite.


In checking all of the usual mail-order sources, I was surprised to find no complete collection of Fuchs’s five serenades. In fact, you would have to hunt down some fairly obscure labels featuring some fairly provincial ensembles to find recordings of Nos. 3 and 5, not to mention other versions besides this one of Nos. 1 and 2. And I had no luck at all finding even a single recording of No. 4. I guess I hadn’t realized when I began this review just how far Fuchs’s serenades had fallen on hard times, for the rest of his output in general is reasonably well represented on disc.


The Andante grazioso and Capriccio that concludes the disc is no insignificant filler. At 17 and a half minutes, it’s longer than the Serenade No. 2, and, written in 1900, it’s a work postdating the last of the composer’s serenades. Harmonically more advanced and complex, and emotionally darker than the serenades, the piece, suggests note author Anthony Short, is an example of Fuchs the teacher being influenced by his students, namely Sibelius.


One can only hope that this new recording of the first two serenades with the Cologne Chamber Orchestra directed by Christian Ludwig is the first in a survey that will bring us the remaining three, for in every respect the performances and recording are excellent. Strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Classical Music

For the sixth volume of his Chopin project, the Canadian pianist and exclusive Chandos Artist Louis Lortie has built a programme that includes works from the earliest to the latest periods in the composer’s life, all of which have connection with or focus on Chopin’s Polish identity. The Hommage à Mozart, Op. 2 is a brilliant set of variations on ‘Là ci darem la mano’ from Don Giovanni. Chopin composed it originally for piano and orchestra, in 1827, when he was just seventeen, and later made this arrangement for solo piano (a common practice at the time). The two Polonaises, Op. 40 date from the late 1830s, and contain some of his most openly nationalistic writing. The first – nicknamed ‘Military’ – evokes sentiments of national identity and pride, whilst the second, more melancholy work portrays feelings evoked by Poland’s vanished statehood. Lortie concludes the album with Chopin’s Fantaisie, Op. 49, from 1841. This work exemplifies the brilliant improvisatory style of Chopin’s writing for piano. These works are interspersed with four sets of Mazurkas, Opp. 6, 24, 41, and 67. Chopin almost single-handedly introduced the Mazurka to Paris when he arrived there in the late 1820s, and continued to compose them throughout his life, transforming the Polish dance form into some of his most dazzling and memorable compositions.

REVIEW:

At moments on this disc, a seasoned sort of beauty takes hold of our ears, wherein a keyboard’s conjuring casts an airy, aural spell. In the battle of dark and light, Lortie’s own brand of luminescence wins out every time.

– The Whole Note (Canada)

Also available on Blu-ray

A brand new production of ‘Tannhäuser’ from the Staatsoper Berlin, conducted by Daniel Barenboim, staged and choreographed by Sasha Waltz, who has brought to the stage this Romantic Wagner opera with a star cast of some of today's best Wagnerian singers: Peter Seiffert in the title role, Réne Pape as Landgraf and Peter Mattei as Wolfram, Ann Petersen sings Elisabeth and Marina Prudenskaya is Venus.

HD recording: Staatsoper im Schiller Theater, Berlin – 04/2014
DVD Running time: 192 min.
Booklet: French / English / German, Subtitles: French / English / German
16/9, NTSC, Audio: Dolby Digital 2.0, Dolby Digital 5.1

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

Also available on standard DVD

This new release from Opus Arte is a live recording from the Glyndebourne Opera House, Lewes, taken in October of 2015, of the first ever professional UK staging of Donizetti’s Poliuto. This masterpiece is rarely performed, but is nevertheless a masterwork that shows the magnanimous genius of this bel canto opera composer. The exhilarating American tenor Michael Fabiano sings the role of Poliuto, and fellow world-class singers Ana Maria Martinez and Igor Golovatenko round out a spectacular cast. “Every now and then the world of opera unearths a forgotten masterpiece […] Poliuto needs at least three world-class singers, and Glyndebourne has them” (What’s on Stage) Extra features include “Passion & Faith: Preparing for a UK premiere” and “Love & Opression: An interview with Mariame Clement.”

Picture Format: 16:9, 1080p HD
Sound Formats: LPCM 2.0, DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1
Region Code: 0 (Worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Japanese, Korean
Running Time: 117 mins, 15 mins (Bonus)

For pianist Victor Rosenbaum's fourth album on Bridge Records; the artist turns to the last three piano compositions of Johannes Brahms. Rosenbaum's Schubert release was described as a “powerful and poignant record of human experience”, and much the same can be said of these profound readings of Brahms's late masterpieces. Pianist Victor Rosenbaum, former chair of the New England Conservatory piano department for more than ten years, has performed widely as soloist and chamber music performer in the United States, Europe, Asia, Israel, and Russia, in such prestigious halls as Alice Tully Hall in New York and the Hermitage in St. Petersburg, Russia. He has collaborated with such artists as Leonard Rose, Arnold Steinhardt, Robert Mann, and the Cleveland and Brentano String Quartets, among others. Festival appearances have included Tanglewood, Rockport, Yellow Barn, Kneisel Hall, Kfar Blum (Israel) and Musicorda, where he is on the faculty. He has been soloist with the Indianapolis and Atlanta symphonies and the Boston Pops.

LISZT: 6 Hungarian Rhapsodies for Piano Four-Hands

Liszt’s Etudes d’execution transcendante enshrine the spirit of High Romanticism, embodying extremes of expressive drama and technical virtuosity. His encyclopedic approach to technique is shown at its most dazzling in this cycle, heard here in the 1852 revision which Liszt himself declared ‘the only authentic one.’ Integration of musical and technical elements is absolute, and the music’s narratives are supported by dramatic physicality, an orchestral richness of sonority, and an exceptional coloristic quality. The young Moscow-born Israeli pianist Boris Giltburg is lauded across the globe as a deeply sensitive, insightful and compelling musician. Born in 1984 in Moscow, he moved to Tel Aviv at an early age, studying with his mother and then with Arie Vardi. He went on to win numerous awards, most recently the Second Prize at the Rubinstein Competition in 2011, and in 2013 he won First Prize at the Queen Elisabeth Competition, catapulting his career to a new level.



REVIEW:

Boris Giltburg is a phenomenon. The music seems to ooze from every pore of his being, and he makes us think anew about what we are listening to. I renewed acquaintance with favored recordings from my collection (Ashkenazy, Berezovsky, Berman, Gekic, Kempf, Kultyshev, Strelchenko, Trifonov), but this one stands out for its ability to challenge the mind when thinking about Liszt’s magnificent opus.

– American Record Guide