Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

CLAUDE FRANK 85th BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION • Claude Frank (pn) • SONO LUMINUS DSL-92122 (2 CDs: 138:12)


SCHUMANN Arabeske. Fantasiestücke: Warum. Kinderszenen: Traümerei. MOZART Piano Sonata in C, K 330. Rondo in a, K 511. SCHUBERT Piano Sonata in B?, D 960. BEETHOVEN Piano Sonatas Nos. 30–32


The big question attached to this release is, “Why now?” Many collectors will recognize Claude Frank’s name from the complete set of Beethoven sonatas he recorded in the 1970s, and which were released on RCA Victrola LPs. (These now are available on Music & Arts.) There have been a couple of other releases since then—Beethoven’s and Schubert’s works for violin and piano, recorded with his daughter, Pamela Frank—but for the most part, Claude Frank is a major pianist who has been ignored by the recording industry. In other words, the present release is welcome, and very satisfying, and when I look at how many CDs Lang Lang has made since the start of his career, the infrequency of Frank’s recordings makes me mad.


Recorded in New York’s American Academy for Arts and Letters in 2008 and 2009, this pair of discs captures Frank a little before his 85th birthday. (He was born in 1925.) Initially, I thought that these were going to be live performances. Apparently they are not, but Frank’s playing, both intimate and communicative, suggests the presence of an audience of one—that being you, dear listener. Frank’s frequent vocalises, in the manner of Glenn Gould, will not endear these readings to everyone. Somehow, they add to the intimacy of the music-making.


In the generous booklet that accompanies this release, Frank discusses his lengthy studies with Artur Schnabel. (Frank studied with him between 1941 and 1951, but there was a break after he was drafted into the United States Army during World War II.) Frank’s repertory has much in common with Schnabel’s, and his playing resembles his teacher’s in several ways as well. Above all, effect for effect’s sake is rejected. Frank’s playing is not flashy, but it goes right to the music’s core like an arrow seeking the bull’s-eye. One way in which it differs from Schnabel’s is in Frank’s occasional use of a technique in which the left hand slightly anticipates the right. (This can be clearly heard in the middle movement, the Allegro molto, of Beethoven’s Sonata No. 31.) I know this drives some listeners crazy, and if you are one of them, consider yourself warned. Frank doesn’t do it often enough to make it a mannerism, though. In the sequence of repeated G-Major chords that ushers in that final section, Frank (I think through a combination of pedaling and touch) creates a sonority I have never heard coming from a piano. A little later, in the final fugal section, Frank realizes Beethoven’s odd rhythmic dislocations with greater clarity than I have heard from any other pianist. In the three Beethoven sonatas, Frank does not suffer in comparison to his younger self, and the engineering is better, too.


The other performances are terrific as well. In Schubert’s sonata, Frank captures a quality that I consider essential to much of the composer’s later work, that being the song of a bird who sings still more beautifully even as he perceives that a cat is about to pounce on him. A similar quality pervades the Mozart Rondo in A Minor. Mozart’s Sonata in C is unaffected—it is neither fragile Dresden china nor a jolly rugby scrum. The Schumann miniatures are warm but not overly sentimental. Frank understands that romantic music does not mean “anything goes.” Above all, in all of these works, including the Beethoven, Frank lets the music speak for itself. Like the finest pianists at work today (Perahia, Lupu, Schiff, etc.), his personality supports the music and does not compete with it.


The musicianship on these discs stands up to anything else in front of the public at this time. Piano mavens whose heads are not turned by mere virtuosity should acquire this release immediately, if they have not done so already!


FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle


These 2008/09 recordings were made in anticipation of Claude Frank's 85th birthday on December 24, 2010, and testify to the veteran pianist's seasoned musicianship and remarkably intact technique. Frank always has played Schubert's final sonata supremely well, and you can forgive the occasionally uneven phrase or split note in light of the pianist's warm tone and intelligently shaped long lines, especially in the first-movement development section and throughout the slow movement. Frank's moderate tempo for the Scherzo allows the music its lilting, delicate due, while the finale boasts genuine cumulative urgency and a driving coda that ought to keep younger pianists humble.

The Mozart C major K. 330 sonata sports characterful grace, wit, and spot-on timing. Frank's bracing and direct treatment of the Mozart A minor Rondo demonstrates how to convey expressive niceties through color and nuance rather than by monkeying around with tempo. Likewise, the Schumann short pieces elicit eloquent, tellingly proportioned artistry.

By and large Frank plays the last three Beethoven sonatas with greater deliberation and lyricism than in his relatively faster RCA studio versions from nearly four decades earlier. The incisive punch and accentuation of yore has given way to more songful phrasing and room to breathe, although Frank's dynamic range ventures less toward Beethoven's extremes. This is a memorable release showcasing Claude Frank in authoritative performances of the music he loves best.

--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

KALEIDOSCOPE • Amy Schwartz Moretti (vn); Robert McDuffie (vn); Elizabeth Pridgen (pn) • DORIAN 92126 (63:36)


GERSHWIN 3 Preludes. TCHAIKOVSKY Mélodie. Valse Scherzo. NOVÁ?EK Perpetuum mobile. MARTINON Solo Violin Sonatine, op. 31/1. KREISLER Caprice viennois. Praeludium and Allegro. MASSENET Thaïs: Meditation. MOSZKOWSKI Suite for 2 Violins and Piano


According to the blurb, Amy Schwartz Moretti chose the pieces for her first solo CD because they represent a kaleidoscope of works she’s known through her years of violin playing. The recital begins with Jascha Heifetz’s arrangement of George Gershwin’s Three Preludes, pieces in which Heifetz could wow an audience with stylish verve. Moretti is not so straightforwardly energetic as Heifetz, and she doesn’t wind up the first with a knockout punch. She’s slinkier, however (in a way similar to that of Maria Bachmann), especially in the second prelude. The engineers have swaddled her sound (on an 1874 Vuillaume that seems especially rich in the lowest registers) in a decent amount of reverberation, but at times she seems more recessive than does the pianist, her colleague Elizabeth Pridgen from Mercer University, although she brings the third prelude to a satisfying conclusion.


Two contrasting pieces by Piotr Illyitch Tchaikovsky follow: the Melodie, op. 42/3, which she plays with great warmth if not Nathan Milstein’s élan, and the Valse Scherzo, op. 34. At least one virtuoso I knew well ran afoul of this brilliant showpiece (both technically and stylistically), but Moretti doesn’t, and even if her portamentos don’t always seem finely judged in the waltz-like sections, she hits the double-stops squarely, plays the staccatos lightly and gracefully, and swirls the arpeggios with the silvery elegance of a baton twirler. Ottokar Nová?ek’s popular Perpetuum mobile may not be so difficult as it sounds, but Nathan Milstein could make a very dashing impression in it. Moretti takes it a bit more slowly, but perhaps makes a bit more musical sense out of it. For that reason, his 2:35 sounds somewhat longer than her 3:10.


Jean Martinon’s Sonatine No. 5, coming near the recital’s center, provides a slice of spiced meat among the sweets. She plays with prepossessing bravado at the opening of the second movement, but spikes the whole with energy. Fritz Kreisler didn’t slink and slide in his Caprice viennois the way Moretti does (compare, however, his two recordings from May 11 and 18, 1910—which themselves differ surprisingly—to his last, much more mannered one, from January 15, 1942), but her way in it makes a sense of its own kind. Its middle section is bright enough, but the outer section is softer-grained than, say, Zino Francescatti’s. Her even quarters in the first section of Kreisler’s Praeludium and Allegro remind me of the similar opening of David Nadien’s recording. Kreisler himself didn’t record the piece, which has been acclaimed by critics as the best of his lot, so we’ll never know what he would have done (Moretti does play the return of the quarter notes more subtly than their initial statement), although Carl Flesch relates that the composer didn’t take the Allegro too rapidly. Neither does Moretti, though it’s fast enough to throw off highlights (she approaches the cadenza slowly, but then mixes a real cocktail of sounds at the end). Jules Massenet’s popular Meditation may be the single most frequently requested violin piece in my experience, and Moretti plays it with such beauty of tone and glowing ardor that it’s easy to see why.


The program concludes with Moritz Moszkowski’s ingratiating Suite in G Minor for Two Violins and Piano, in which Robert McDuffie joins Moretti and Pridgen. McDuffie and Moretti seem well matched tonally (though he’s playing the 1735 Ladenburg Guarneri del Gésu) and stylistically through this work’s four movements. Together, Moretti and McDuffie produce an almost orchestral sonority, a tribute perhaps to Moszkowski’s skill in writing for the instruments, but also to the two violinists channeling his spirit. If it’s lightweight fare, listeners should note that the ability to make such pieces sound worthy of a hearing used to be more highly prized in earlier eras, and Moretti and the ensemble possess this ability in abundance. Although the recital will appeal most strongly to Moretti’s followers, all the well-played numbers suggest a broader recommendation to a wider audience—especially on account of Moszkowski’s suite.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

Classical Music

Ever since playing Hugleiding (Meditation) by composer Karolina Eiriksdottir for the first time back in 2006, this Icelandic solo violin music project has been melting in my veins. In 2013, John Speight wrote his Soliloquy (track 7 and 8) at my request. Two more recent commissions are on the album, both from composers who play the violin: Fragile Stillness by Lilja Maria asmundsdottir and Aria by Maria Huld Markan. Iceland has a long tradition of violin playing and according to folklore every farmer in certain valleys up north was a fiddler. Ea Fantasia (track 4), my own composition, is inspired by the opening track Alia Fantasia by Nicola Matteis Jr. He was the London-born son of the Italian composer Nicola Matteis, who wrote Ayers and Grounds. Nicola Junior was a violinist like his father and lived in Vienna, where he composed numerous ballets for the imperial opera. His bariolage (arpeggios over four strings) remind me of the opening of Fratres by Arvo Part and Bach's Chaconne-key works in the violin repertoire-both of which have been a great inspiration to me. In Fragile Stillness (track 2), Lilja Maria asmundsdottir experiments with textures. Or as she puts it: "The piece is inspired by a weather condition called froststillur. It is characterized by an intense calmness where there is no wind and a crisp, frozen atmosphere. Karolina wrote Meditation (track 3) in 1996 for violinist Hlif Sigurjonsdottir, who premiered the piece in June 1997. Meditation is in one movement, built on ideas which change and develop, and the composer describes it as "variations without a theme. Aria (track 5) by Maria Huld Markan was written for me in 2023. Her solo piece is written under the influence of Maria Callas and her romanticism and lontano as she sings Puccini. Maria is reflecting on the concept of the genius, and motifs are flowing from all the fountains contemplating the romantic violin repertoire. On his Adagio (track 6), composer Tryggvi Baldvinsson writes: "This small Adagio can be seen as a short play in which three distinct characters appear. Each has it's own traits, it's own personality. The encounter between these characters is bound to have a profound and lasting impact on them. As for the actual course of events, I leave that entirely to the listener's imagination. The piece was composed for Rut Ingolfsdottir, who premiered it in 1997. John Speight is an English-Icelandic singer and composer I got to know through working with the Reykjavik Chamber Orchestra, playing and recording his works. He wrote Soliloquy (track 7 and 8) in 2012 and it is the only piece on the album in two movements. The first movement is slow and thoughtful, while the second is crazy and furious. Tranquility (track 10) by Sveinn Ludvik Bjornsson is possibly the shortest piece I have ever played. The story of it is longer than the piece itself-and too good to omit. Sveinn Ludvik, who is visually impaired, was renting a studio in an old banana storage in Brautarholt, Reykjavik. To enter his studio he had to walk through the studio of artist Helgi Valgeirsson. Above the door there was a painting by Helgi which inspired Sveinn Ludvik deeply; he had the sense it was very somber in it's mood-a naked woman with her back turned. Moved by the scene he wrote Tranquility. Later, when discussing the piece with Helgi and admiring the tragic impact of the naked woman in the picture, Sveinn was shocked to discover that the painting, in fact, was of bananas and oranges. Veronique Vaka Jacques, a Canadian-Icelandic composer and trained classical cellist, grounds her work in the geology and topography of Iceland. In Ofdune (track 9), a map of North Iceland serves as groundwork, with the geographical details of a descending river abstractly translated into the work's time progression, using the river's path through hills and valleys as a loose blueprint. This concept of descent is echoed in the title, Ofdune, which is derived from the Old English meaning "downwards" or "off the hill". Jon Nordal's Hvert orstutt spor (Each Tiny Step, track 11) is from the play Silfurtunglid by Icelandic Nobel Prize-winning author Halldor Laxness. This is a famous Icelandic song, here in my gospel music influenced arrangement for solo violin. I tried to stay true to the beautiful and simple melody and the text of the poem filled with nostalgic longing. - Una Sveinbjarnardottir Recorded in Reykholtskirkja West Iceland January 24. - 25. 2025 Una Sveinbjarnardottir, Violin Ragnheidur Jonsdottir, Tonmeister Dan Shores, Recording, Editing, Mixing, & Mastering Engineer Eva Schram, Photography Una Sveinbjarnardottir, Liner Notes

Brouhaha: Shaped by Fire is a recording and performance project, combining music with anthropology to highlight our connections to our nature and origins. From noisy social gatherings around fires 800,000 years ago to virtual meetings over Zoom today, we humans have created and solved an amazing array of problems. Even as we shape the world in unprecedented ways, we remain an integral part of nature, intertwined with it's rhythms and cycles. Project founder and violinist Maiani da Silva has commissioned six stylistically eclectic composers to write for solo violin based on what intrigues them about our human nature and our place in the ecosystem. In addition, Maiani and the composers have collaborated with world-renowned scientists to gain insights on their chosen theme. What results is an imaginative collection of works that both transcends stylistic labels and embraces intellectual inquiry, while highlighting an important duality: "our ability to work with or against our environment, [which] has been with us from the beginning" (Ian Gottlieb, composer of Shaped by Fire). The drive to express and understand are both deeply human. Brouhaha combines two cultural pillars-art and science-to further ask: What separates and also connects us to the delicate web of nature, our environment, other species, and one another?

We clarinetists are profoundly grateful to Johannes Brahms for these four late works, composed near the end of his life. They stand as some of his most intimate and deeply felt music. We also owe thanks to the clarinetist Richard Mühlfeld, whose artistry moved Brahms so greatly that it inspired him to compose again. Mühlfeld's playing unlocked a new, quieter world for Brahms. Instead of writing large, dramatic works, Brahms started composing more personal and emotional music that highlighted the clarinet's warm and gentle sound. I was a young man when I first got to know these works, and in retrospect, I believe that my long engagement with these four compositions has shaped my approach to music-making more profoundly than any other repertoire, extending even to my interpretations of contemporary music. There are certain compositions that simply refuse to let go. Often, after performing them, one assumes it will be the final time, yet that is seldom the reality. This has certainly been my experience with the works of Brahms. His music is a constant source of inspiration. Every time I set the music on the stand, something opens up - a new interpretative idea or a deeper understanding of the music. And then that feeling comes up that every musician recognizes: I have to play this again! This is music that demands stillness and focus, and for me, it serves as an escape from the speed and noise of modern life. We are inviting the audience into a space where time stands still, where we are allowed to be sincere and reflective. It is both a privilege and a responsibility to keep these compositions present through performance and recording. After our recital in 2017 where we played all four works, the idea emerged to record them together. I hope you will find as much enjoyment in listening as we found in bringing this music to life. - Rúnar

The Elastic Heart of Youth Preface - Notes of Renewal If we understood the world, we would realize that there is a logic of harmony underlying it's manifold apparent dissonances. - Jean Sibelius, In 1907, in conversation with Gustav Mahler. Originating in distinct musical dialects - Baroque, Classical, Nordic, Slavic, French, and contemporary - the works recorded here are bound together by a vivid, elastic heart: a profound spirit of vitality that endures through tension and release, stillness and motion, loss and restoration. Beneath their differing voices beats a kindred pulse shared with the natural world. Sibelius's Le Sapin evokes the spruce's calm and poise, it's hushed sonorities suggesting their own logic of repose. Janacek's Sonata 1.X.1905 bears witness - urgent, searching, unafraid-it's broken arcs invoking the dissonances of modernity's estrangement from nature and the fragile openings through which rebirth begins. Debussy's etude pour les arpeges composes and La fille aux cheveux de lin shimmer with shifting light and color, while Clair de lune unfolds in the moon's tender chiaroscuro, a meditation of light, shadow, and serenity. Mozart's Fantasy in D minor restores grace and clarity not by denying shadow, but by transfiguring it; it's improvisatory nature finds form through discovery. Scarlatti's sonatas dance with quick, inventive pulse: sunlight on stone, castanets crossing through the air. Their brilliance is youthful joy tempered by seasoned experience. Gross's Solace turns inward towards repose. Here the heart practices a different virtuosity - the courage to be calm, to let resonance and renewal begin. Even in this quietude, her music recalls nature's adaptability, it's patient recalibrations in the face of change. Missy Mazzoli's The Elastic Heart of Youth gathers all these energies into a radiant celebration of life. It's tensile rhythms and glowing harmonies echo the supple strength of the living world-the capacity to bend, to adapt, to begin again.

Les Violons du Roy: Encore!

The Spektral Quartet, since their inception, has strived to bridge the gap between the great historical works and compositions from today. Regarded for their their progressive undertakings, the group delivers interactive concerts with an intimate, up-close atmosphere, and intrepid programming.The Spektral Quartet, consisting of Clara Lyon, Austin Wulliman, Doyle Armbrust, and Russell Rolan, serves as ensemble-in-residence at the University of Chicago’s Department of Music.The inspiration behind Serious Business is what makes something humorous, and how can we view humor through the lens of classical music.

Classical Music

The six-person Baltimore Consort is one of the oldest early-music ensembles still on the performing scene. It employs a relatively small number of instruments at any time and produces a varied, sometimes intimate, result. This works well with some of the more expressive songs on this new release that features countertenor José Lemos, who sounds remarkably like a dark-voiced mezzo. (He’s listed as a full member on the album, but is described as a guest artist on its Web site.) The pieces are varied in subject and tone, from the usual digs at cuckolds to a couple displaying the religious triumphalism that followed in the wake of Castile’s historical ascension.

The program is one the Baltimore Consort has been performing for several years, mixing simple, popular songs and dances from the three monotheistic religious cultures that occupied the Iberian peninsula before the conclusion of the Reconquista in 1492. Much of the content is necessarily anonymous, and much else credited by tradition to arrangers, as in the dances drawn from Diego Ortiz’s Trattado de Glosas . Several selections are frequently played in concert by early-music ensembles, such as “Cucú, cucú, cucucú” (with some lovely tone here from recorder specialist Mindy Rosenfeld), Ortiz’s Italian-influenced “Recercada segunda,” and de la Torre’s “Danza Alta,” which if memory serves, I first heard live at a Terpsichore concert while recording it for Minnesota Public Radio in the early 1980s. “Ríu, ríu, chiu” is another perennial favorite, as is “Oy comamos y bebamos.” It all adds up to an exciting, strongly folk-flavored concert, varied in timbre, tempo, and expressive mood from moment to moment, though always played with the expertise one might expect from this group of musicians.

Some listeners may flinch at the near-rock bass line established (but quickly abandoned) by “Calabaça, no sé, buen amor,” or the full, strummed guitar chords and syncopated vocal line in “Tu madre cuando te parió” that come close to modern popular music. The Baltimore Consort may be engaging in a little épater le bourgeois in these cases, or it may just be offering proofs of concept—that rock rhythms do on occasion reproduce much older folk ones, and that the casual speech rhythms of Spanish folk song bridge popular music across the centuries. Regardless, if you can accept and enjoy what you hear, fine and well. In any case, with full bilingual texts and translations, and good if general notes, this one’s definitely recommended.

FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

Classical Music

Classical Music

What Artemisia Heard: Music and Art from the Time of Caravaggio and Gentileschi is the culmination of a unique project envisioned by El Mundo artistic director Richard Savino. Enraptured over the work of female Baroque painter Artemisia Gentileschi, Savino began to question why the music of Artemisia’s time is not as widely appreciated as the visual arts of the era. Recognizing a ubiquitous connection in popular music between the aural and visual, Savino had the ingenious idea to integrate the sublime painting of Artemisia and her contemporaries directly with the equally sublime music these painters would have heard at the time.

Featured alongside paintings by Artemisia and her contemporaries is music by composers Uccellini, Kapsberger, Frescobaldi, Caccini, Piccinini, Monteverdi, Falconieri and Rossi, among others, as performed by El Mundo and distinguished soloists. El Mundo is dedicated to the performance of 16th – 19th c. Latin American, Spanish and Italian chamber music. Under the direction of guitarist/lutenist Richard Savino, El Mundo was formed in 1999 and is made up of some of today’s finest period instrument performers.

In many ways, this album represents the debut recording of ACME, American Contemporary Music Ensemble. The collection of pieces here was chosen for very pure and simple reasons; each work is a piece we love and to which we feel quite intimately connected. The performance of this music is an expression of affection and closeness, not just to each other as performers, but also to the composer who wrote it. Three of the four composers featured are also performers in ACME. It is music that feels very close. The privilege of performing this music for others has shaped each of us individually and as an ensemble, and these pieces occupy a good part of the music ACME has performed as concert music. It was also chosen for this album, to exist on recorded media, because it is work that should exist in other scenarios beyond the concert experience: a long, slow walk; a frenetic commute; a late evening at home... The American Contemporary Music Ensemble (ACME) is dedicated to the outstanding performance of masterworks from the 20th and 21st centuries, primarily the work of American composers. The ensemble presents music by living composers alongside the classics of the contemporary. ACME’s dedication to new music extends across genres, and has earned them a reputation among both classical and rock crowds. NPR calls them “contemporary music dynamos,” and The New York Times describes ACME’s performances as “vital,” “brilliant,” and “electrifying.” Time Out New York reports, “Jensen has earned a sterling reputation for her fresh, inclusive mix of minimalists, maximalists, eclectics and newcomers.” ACME was honored by ASCAP during its 10th anniversary season in 2015 for the “virtuosity, passion, and commitment with which it performs and champions American composers.” "This curated selection of pieces comes from different but rhyming sonic worlds and is some of the music we have grown to love the most in this varied and fast-changing world." - Clarice Jensen, ACME Cellist & Artistic Director

Note the three striking elements on this album, from the minute you press play. The first is the quality of the performances. These are top-level musicians bringing their same superlative artistry to Christmas favorites that they do to a Schubert quartet or Taverner score. The second is the sterling quality of the recording. If there is a sonic equivalent to sipping a hot toddy while curled up before a roaring fire, it is Sono Luminus’s peerless mixes and captures. Third–and in every way as essential as the previous two–this is a kaleidoscopic collection of styles and interpretations of beloved songs and carols that keeps one eager for the next number. With such a fetching variety of artists and approaches, you will find yourself going top-to-tail on this one. Simplicity is an underrated avenue when it comes to holiday releases, so the entries by Irina Muresanu & Matei Varga, Bruce Levingston, Kathryn Bates, and Skylark Vocal Ensemble are a breath of proverbial fresh air. Muresanu’s seductive playing is a glimpse into the golden age of violin technique–lush vibrato and delicious sentimentality, which infuses “White Christmas” with every bit of nostalgia one could hope for.

CONTENTS:

• Steve Nelson, Jack Rollins: Frosty the Snowman
• Tchaikovsky: The Seasons, Op. 37b XII. December "Christmas"
• Berlin, I: White Christmas
• Marks, J: Holly Jolly Christmas
• Blake, H: Walking in the Air
• Cory Hills: 'Twas the Night Before Christmas
• Fred Coots, Haven Gillespie: Santa Claus Is Coming to Town
• Guaraldi: Christmas Time Is Here (From "A Charlie Brown Christmas")
• trad: Joy to the World
• trad: Good King Wenceslas
• Martin, Hugh: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
• Gruber, F: Silent Night, H. 145

REVIEW:

This is a well-constructed program of solo piano music that valuably includes the premiere recording of Holst’s Brook Green Suite in Vally Lasker’s transcription and two pieces by Roderick Williams; one an original composition and the other his free transcription of John Ireland’s Sea Fever.

Britten’s Holiday Diary seems to be receiving more recordings and concert performances of late. I last movements from it in a highlights disc from the Husum Festival. The nippy flurries of Early Morning Bathe are finely projected by Maria Marchant, who ensures that the Sailing movement is by no means plain, though after the squalls one returns to its elysian introduction. The big contrast between the showy Fun-Fair aand the subdued Night could hardly be more potent. Ronald Stevenson tended to be more-than-somewhat dismissive of the solo piano writing of some senior British composers. His Peter Grimes Fantasy, which follows with inexorable programmatic logic, is a fugue on two subjects and Britten approved of it according to the paragraph in the booklet that preserves Stevenson’s own introduction to the piece. It’s driving, powerful music, idiomatically laid out, as one would expect of the prolific executant-composer. Maria Marchant’s metronome is set to ‘action’ when it comes to John Ireland’s Ballade of London Nights, which she takes at a real lick—the fastest recording of it yet to be set down, I think. If I happen to prefer the more insinuating tempi of, say, John Lenehan, Alan Rowlands and Eric Parkin, it’s certainly bracing to hear Marchant’s take, if only the once.

Roderick Williams’s Sea Fever transcription opens like Rachmaninov and is vividly accomplished, whilst his own Goodwood by the Sea fits the program delightfully: richly colored, rhythmically vivid, wholly delightful. Kenneth Leighton’s Six Studies are knottier by far, a sequence of so called ‘Study-Variations’, composed in 1969. The color and astringency of the writing is always exciting, the ‘e secco’ instruction fully realized here in the second study, and the way that economy of means develops gravity in the Adagio a particularly revealing example of Leighton’s skill. The garrulous quality of the capricious fourth movement and the dramatic energy of the finale study reinforce the rewarding merits of this brief but intense cycle. Holst’s solo piano music aspires to little more than charm, though the folklorically inflected Toccata is thoroughly engaging: the Brook Green Suite is similarly effortlessly charming and Lasker’s transcription—she was his assistant and ex-pupil—is fresh-faced and effective.

It ends a well selected work list that will reward close listening. Robert Matthew-Walker’s notes are very readable, though he has to strain to make connections between the works from time to time. Fine recording quality.

-- MusicWeb International (Bruce McCollum)

Classical Music

“For this recording, I use a modern setup: specifically a 1930 Carl Becker cello made in Chicago, and a modern bow. I admit that such a setup is quite far off from the sound world that Bach must have imagined when composing these suites. I have done my best, however, to balance this modern setup with a thorough understanding of Baroque stylistic principles, particularly in regard to sound production, bow strokes, vibrato, slurring, voicing, and ornaments. 

Australian cellist Richard Narroway has proven himself to be equally at home with repertoire both new and old. He has appeared as a soloist with the Grand Rapids Symphony and the HanZhou Philharmonic Orchestra, and in recital on Chicago’s WFMT Dame Myra Hess Series and the Keys to the City Piano Festival at Chicago’s Symphony Center. In addition he has given performances in Australia, China, Germany, Canada and the United States, in prestigious venues such as the Kennedy Center, Chicago Symphony Center, Preston Bradley Hall and the Sydney Opera House.

Sweet Desire