Giorgio Tozzi and a young Florence Henderson starred in-and Richard Rogers oversaw-this terrific revival production. And what's more, this 1967 Music Theater of Lincoln Center recording was the first South Pacific recording in true stereo (the 1949 one was not). First time on CD!

This is the most physically exciting account of the work yet made, with a finale not even topped by Craft's remake (for Koch). Of course, there have been many other recordings since this one, including fine ones by Dohnanyí, Järvi, and Eschenbach, and those enjoy more modern sonics; but if you only have room for one version of this piece, then this is it. The addition of the Bach/Schoenberg and Schubert/Webern orchestrations, all very well done, only seals the deal.

It's common to poke fun at Schoenberg's opulent orchestration of the Brahms Piano Quartet in G minor, but the arrangement's sometimes gaudy colors make an interesting and valid point about Brahms' music in general, namely that you will find a wider range of forms and melodic archetypes in the chamber music than in the symphonies (leaving aside the larger quantity of the former as compared with the latter). Had Brahms found room in his symphonies for the marches and Hungarian tunes with which he liberally peppers this quartet, he might have felt duty-bound to score them much as Schoenberg does here (well, almost), with entertaining if "un-symphonic" results.

In other words, in his symphonies Brahms (over)compensates for the orchestra's tendency toward programmatic musical display with material that, however beautiful, suggests no such possibility. He feels safe using such material in chamber music precisely because the medium forces the composer to stylize and refine the original and reduce it to its bare musical essence. The danger of distracting programmatic suggestiveness is much less.



All of this is a long way of saying that in its way Schoenberg's orchestration is quite faithful to Brahms' music, and once you get past the enthusiastic brass and kooky percussion, what really stands out is the clarity of the part-writing, the result of a handling of the woodwind section that really is more Schoenberg than Brahms. Certainly this is one of the most striking elements in Robert Craft's now-legendary recording of this work, one in which he has the Chicago Symphony playing the living daylights out of the music.


Questions of musicological rigor aside, this also is the most physically exciting account of the work yet made, with a finale not even topped by Craft's remake (for Koch). Of course, there have been many other recordings since this one, including fine ones by Dohnanyí, Järvi, and Eschenbach, and those enjoy more modern sonics; but if you only have room for one version of this piece, then this is it. The addition of the Bach/Schoenberg and Schubert/Webern orchestrations, all very well done, only seals the deal. A classic returns! [10/9/2006]
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

This is a DSD (Direct Stream Digital) recording

Evgeny Kissin is an interpreter who tends to shoot from the hip in the big Romantic masterpieces, resulting in many moments of genius rubbing up against baffling gaucheries. Fortunately, nearly everything comes together for Kissin in his late-1990s recordings of Schumann's Kreisleriana and C major Fantasy. The latter virtually explodes in the face of Kissin's ardent, volatile virtuosity, which dwells at opposite ends of the scale from Pollini's ironclad, symphonically inclined steadiness. Particularly noteworthy (all puns intended) are Kissin's spectacular leaps in the second-movement coda, where he cleanly delineates the outer voices most other pianists are merely content to hit accurately. The whiplash articulation and huge dynamic range Kissin brings to Kreisleriana's faster movements are cut from the same Dionysian cloth that shrouds the great Horowitz (Sony) and Argerich (DG) recordings. In short, the catalog claims no stromger coupling of these works, and with Kissin on top form, who can resist? [6/14/2004] --Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Composer/Lyricist: Frank Loesser.
Original Broadway Cast: Robert Morse, Rudy Vallee, Virginia Martin, Bonnie Scott, Charles Nelson Reilly.
Recording information: Webster Hall, New York, New York (10/22/1961).

SYMPHONY NO.9

What's not to like? Here we have one of Eugene Ormandy's classic accounts of the Nutcracker Suite, followed by a transcription for the Modern Mandolin Quartet that sounds surprisingly attractive, all things considered. Then the fun really starts with Spike Jones' demented take on the story, full of his trademark sound effects and madcap humor. Capping it all off are two 1940s arrangements for four pianos of the Dance of the Reed Flutes and the Waltz of the Flowers. Obviously the recording quality varies widely (even the Ormandy doesn't compare to today's best), but that's not really the point. What you get is a sort of trip down memory lane with this ever-popular music--and more to the point, the arrangements are sufficiently distinctive to justify wanting to listen to the entire disc at a sitting. As a special holiday treat that gives you much more than just another Nutcracker, you simply can't go wrong. Charming and fun! --David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

In 1967 and 1969, en route to becoming the leading soprano of the 1970s, Montserrat Caballé recorded a trio of "rarity" discs for RCA, each concentrating on a single composer--Rossini, Donizetti, and Verdi--and focused on relatively little-known scenes and arias from similarly obscure operas. Thanks in part to Caballé's stage performances and recordings, the bel canto revival has rescued many of those works from the shadows, but they have not been better sung than by the great Spanish soprano, possessor of perhaps the most beautiful soprano voice of the 20th century. She's at her best here, singing with the fire that sometimes seemed to elude her, flaunting her ravishing pianissimos, and never breaking a sweat or taking an untoward breath as she tosses off difficult coloratura passages with ease.


The Rossini set dips into five operas and the "Inflammatus" from his Stabat mater. Donizetti is represented by four operas, but entire scenes are offered, putting the arias in proper context. Seven scenes and/or arias from Verdi's early operas are here, blending touches of those two past masters with harbingers of his own evolving style. Singling out highlights would be folly in a tightly filled double-disc set, but you know from the very first notes of "Tanti affetti" from Rossini's La donna del lago, which begins Disc 1, that you're in for a feast of great singing. Orchestras and conductors are idiomatic. The sonics, once deemed excellent, are only a bit dimmed by time. RCA provides full texts and English translations, a welcome departure from the usual big-label reluctance to accommodate consumers. This is a must for any lover of great singing. [1/28/2005]
--Dan Davis, ClassicsToday.com

Fans of great violin playing naturally will want to hear this outstanding sampling of the art of the young Itzhak Perlman, most of which has never been released on CD. The violinist blasts through Paganini's Caprices Nos. 1, 16, and (of course) 24 with scrupulous technique and a total lack of inhibition. In the remaining works he's well partnered by pianist David Garvey, best known for his work with soprano Leontyne Price. Among the items represented are some truly uncommon gems, such as Ben-Haim's Berceuse Sfaradite, Hindemith's sweet little Sonata Op. 11 No. 1, and a smoking performance of Bazzini's La Ronde des lutins. Perlman gives a nod to the Baroque tradition (while remaining firmly within the modern school, obviously), with uncommonly exciting versions of Handel's Sonata Op. 1 No. 15 and Leclair's Op. 9 No. 3.

Rounding out the program are Bloch's Nigun (gorgeous tone here) and two Spanish favorites--Sarasate's Navarra Op. 33 and Kreisler's arrangement of Falla's Spanish Dance from La vida breve. The sonics balance the two players well considering Perlman's predilection for remaining front and center, though the violin sometimes sounds as if it's in a slightly different acoustic. Never mind. This is an outstanding tribute to one of the great names among violinists of any age, as well as a remarkably varied and interesting recital in its own right. As such, it's self-recommending.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Yuri Temirkanov makes Prokofiev's well-worn Classical Symphony sound invitingly fresh through his swift tempos and painstaking observance of rhythm, accent, and dynamic contrast. The outer movements proceed with a breezy playfulness, while the larghetto and gavotte exude 18th-century elegance. The Lieutenant Kijé Suite is similarly accomplished as Temirkanov evokes the work's contrasting moods while nicely capturing its folk atmosphere, especially in the Troika.


Temirkanov doesn't really break any new ground in the Fifth Symphony, but his rendition nonetheless is impressive for its flowing tempos and sense of drama, especially at the close of the first movement with its phalanx of brass and percussion. Temirkanov uncovers some of the score's inner details, such as the usually inaudible piano part in the first and third movements. But the real star here is the St. Petersburg Philharmonic, whose bold brass, lively winds, and sumptuous strings (in the Adagio especially) make this one of the better versions on disc. With such fine performances, it's unfortunate that RCA's acoustically dry recording drains the sound of warmth, while the low levels require you to crank up the volume--but then, watch out for those big climaxes in the symphony!
--Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

Tchaikovsky: Romeo and Juliet - Symphony No. 6, "Pathétique"

Of Georg Solti's two recordings of the Verdi Requiem, I slightly prefer this later one, though I realize that this isn't received wisdom. The Decca recording, after all, features Sutherland, Horne, Pavarotti, and Talvela as soloists, and while Sutherland arguably is not the right voice for the part, everyone else is very good indeed. On the other hand, Leontyne Price, even toward the end of her career, certainly does have the right voice, as does Veriano Luchetti, while Baker and Van Dam are very intelligent singers by any measure, and they do a good job here. Besides, it's hard not to raise an eyebrow at the generic complaint that "singer X lacks a true Italianate timbre" when the words being sung are in Latin and the drama (such as it is) occurs entirely within a devotional framework. The music certainly can take many different approaches, particularly when there's so little actual agreement on what a "true Italianate timbre" is.


Also compared to the Decca recording, Solti here has the finer chorus, a better orchestra (for this work at least), and strangely enough, better (meaning less gimmicky) sound, particularly in this admirable new remastering that minimizes the claustrophobic closeness of the original and allows some air to circulate around the performers. Solti's interpretation remains consistent, exciting, and direct, with a particularly thrilling account of the brief Sanctus and a Dies Irae chorus that is as violent as anyone could want without ever turning merely brutal or hysterical. A work as rich as this one always excites a wide range of opinions, and personal preferences tend to vary substantially. My personal favorite, all things considered, is the first Muti on EMI, with Scotto, Baltsa, Luchetti, Nesterenko, and the Philharmonia Orchestra; but on any given day I also might go for one of Giulini's (his best is his mono live recording on BBC Legends), Fricsay (DG), Shaw, Toscanini, and yes, either of Solti's. He's definitely among the select few.
--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Mussorgsky: Pictures at an Exhibition; Songs and Dances of D

Music from Symphony No. 1, "Jeremiah"; Symphony No. 2, "Age of Anxiety"; Symphony No. 3, "Kaddish"; Chichester Psalms for Chorus and Orchestra ; songs from on the Town; Peter Pan; Fancy Free and Candide ; the original Broadway recording of West Side Story, and more!

Schubert: String Quartets Nos. 13 & 14, "Death and the Maide

Track listings include: "Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 4 in F minor, Op. 36 IV. Finale: Allegro con fuoco " "Stravinsky: Suite from "The Firebird" (1919 version) Finale Disc 2: "Mozart: Symphony No. 39 in E- flat Major, KV 543 "Copland: El salon Mexico" Disc 3: "Haydn: Missa in tempore belli in c major (Mass in Time of War) Hob. XXII: 9" "Sousa: Semper fidelis" "Barber: Adagio for Strings."

Music by Leonard Bernstein, lyrics by Richard Wilbur, with additional lyrics by John Latouche, Leonard Bernstein, and Stephen Sondheim.

Principal cast includes: Lewis J. Stadlen (Voltaire/Dr. Pangloss/Governor), Mark Baker (Candide), Maureen Brennan (Cunegonde), June Gable (Old Lady), Sam Freed (Maximillian), and Deborah St. Darr (Paquette).

Remastered 2006.

Because of its wonderful score, Candide was a Broadway flop that refused to be consigned to the dustbin of history. While attempts to get it right continued for decades, the show had its greatest commercial success with Hal Prince's 1974 revival, where the original book by Lillian Hellman was replaced with Hugh Wheeler's more irreverent version, bringing the show's spirit closer to the Voltaire novel.

The cast album, available for the first time on CD, presents the show complete. Although better singing can be found in other versions (some featuring opera singers), this cast does a good job of keeping the proceedings lively and humorous, avoiding the ponderousness that has plagued other productions.

This selection is a DSD (Direct Stream Digital) recording.

This is a DSD (Direct Stream Digital) recording

These head notes take some explaining. Leave Me Alone is presented twice: the original song, sung by Angelika Kirchschlager, plus a version for cello and piano played by Jan Vogler. In the op. 55 Gypsy Songs, she sings Nos. 2, 5, and 6, while he plays the other four. Ms Kirchschlager sings both Stephen Foster ballads; Wilt Thou Be Gone, Love? includes a cello solo, as well. Pianist Helmut Deutsch accompanies it all. This is all appropriate filler material, as these songs supposedly influenced the composition of the concerto, but the oddities of presentation are not explained. Let’s just say that these recordings, made in a Viennese Casino on May 18, 2005, were Vogler’s party, at which Kirchschlager was merely an invited guest. Standing in a corner, the composer was heard to mutter “Lasst meine Lieder allein.”

Jan Vogler is a young cellist from Berlin who studied with Peter Vogler, Josef Schwab, and Heinrich Schiff. He became principal cellist of the Dresden Staastkapelle at the age of 20, leaving in 1997 to pursue a solo career. His instrument is a 1712 Joseph filius Andrea Guarneri. He has a major reputation in Europe—he won the German equivalent of a Grammy Award as Best Instrumentalist of 2002—and several recent appearances in New York have drawn favorable reviews. He appears as soloist on 15 Berlin Classics CDs; his 2003 Korngold and Barber concertos, with Thomas Sanderling and the Saarbrücken Radio Symphony, cut much of the saccharine and raise those works well above mere respectability. This is his third recording for Sony, following a disc of works by Richard Strauss (Don Quixote and Romance for Cello and Orchestra with Staastkapelle Dresden, plus the Cello Sonata) and one of the Fauré and Schumann piano quintets with Louis Lortie. Neither has ever been available in America.

Angelica Kirchschlager is the latest in the series of great mezzo-sopranos of our era. She has a seamless, easily produced voice, faultless technique that never draws attention to itself, and great feeling for many musical styles. It speaks well of her confidence that she agreed to play second fiddle on this disc. Her Gypsy Songs (sung in German) are so fine that I wish she had sung all seven, but Mr. Vogler’s playing is equally wonderful. Mr. Deutsch gets to show his stuff in the brilliant, complex accompaniments, Foster not having offered him much of a challenge.

Having disposed of the hors d’oeuvres, we can now attack the main course. After the opening phrase, the Cello Concerto’s orchestral introduction is so high-spirited that one wonders if a cello will be able to match it. In the second theme, Philip Myers’s solo horn (the Philharmonic’s full roster appears in the booklet) could wring tears from a stone. The cello entrance is equally strong; Vogler’s lean, clean sonority shines through. Throughout the performance, the athletic side of the music is to the fore; emotion is not short-changed, but the work never falls prey to the over-ripe sentimentality common to most recordings. A best single word to describe this performance would be invigorating. The obvious comparison is with Yo-Yo Ma, playing with the same orchestra in the same hall, for the same label. It’s not that Vogler is a better cellist (only God and Feuermann?), but he has an exuberant personal style, as does conductor David Robertson; they throw themselves into the music wholeheartedly. Ma’s playing is more inhibited—no, that’s not quite the right word—more self contained. His conductor Kurt Masur fits the same mold, being a product of conservative German musical tradition.

The recorded sound is gorgeous. The recording took place in Avery Fisher Hall on December 6, 2004; the orchestra kindly allowed me to attend the morning session (the first movement), and the troublesome venue never sounded so rich and alive. With no audience (I was surrounded by 2,741 empty seats) nor any artificial damping materials, as were used at some Columbia sessions in the Bernstein era, the music surged through the hall, vibrant and forceful. On the recording, ff climaxes do turn slightly hard, a common fault of this hall, but that’s a minor blemish on an otherwise stunning achievement. Vogler’s lean, forward tone makes its presence felt at all times, as it did in the hall, so it does not depend on electronic assistance. Kudos to producer Andreas Neubronner! After 50 minutes of rehearsal and audio adjustments, the opening Allegro was set down in one complete take and another broken into three sections. One wishes Sony had issued an SACD recording here; why is it no longer supporting its own medium? Vogler’s aforementioned Don Quixote is a Sony surround-sound hybrid SCAD “only available outside the US market,” according to www.highfidelity.net.

This CD bears the title: “The Secrets of Dvo?ák’s Cello Concerto,” which relates to two interviews in the program notes between Michael Beckerman, chair of New York University’s Department of Music and a specialist in Czech music, and cellist Jan Vogler. They do explore some interesting areas and provide some valuable information, but I find most of it to be hype, pursuing the question of whether the death of Dvo?ák’s love Josefina Kounicová (whose sister Anna he married, à la Mozart) has relevance to our understanding of the Cello Concerto. Here’s a basic point on which I disagree: Beckerman writes “Telling musical stories in one way or another was Dvo?ák’s stock in trade at this time in his career” (the Cello Concerto followed the “New World” Symphony, was contemporary with his final two quartets, in G Major and AI Minor, and preceded the four tone poems after Erben ballads). The statement is too vague and too hedged to contradict, but I feel it misrepresents the composer, and the following 16 pages of argument are based on it. If we examine Dvo?ák’s œuvre, most observers agree that his best works are his instrumental and orchestral ones, not his operas, which, in spite of containing much wonderful music, fail just because he was not much of a story teller. His lovely songs depend primarily on their luscious melodies. The Cello Concerto speaks to me as an instrumental and orchestral masterpiece, and to hell with its composer’s love life. Those interviews form the entire program notes, their 17 pages denying us a single word of song texts. If Dvo?ák was such a story teller, why not let us read some of his stories? Texts would have been especially welcome for the songs played by the cello. Perhaps what I dislike most is Sony’s view that every disc these days must have an Album Concept, as if Dvo?ák, Jan Vogler, and the New York Philharmonic were not enough.

Arkivmusic.com lists 102 entries under Dvo?ák’s Cello Concerto, by 38 soloists; many are duplications and/or reissues, so the number of performances is probably about 50. I’ve heard perhaps half that many, and this new one is my favorite. It should not be a serious collector’s only recording, of course; I’ve kept at least seven others: Casals/Szell (pace Bernard Jacobson), Starker/Dorati, Rostropovich/Talich, Ma/Masur, and three Feuermanns.

FANFARE: James H. North

MAHLER Symphony No. 4 • James Levine, cond; Judith Blegen (sop); Chicago SO • RCA 59413 (57:58)


Gustav Mahler’s symphonies can work with so many different approaches (unlike the symphonies of most composers) that to pick any one recording of any of the symphonies and call it a “classic” is inviting argument and trouble, yet this specific recording of this particular symphony certainly qualifies in my book. Made in 1976, it has withstood not only the challenges of virtually every recording that came after it but has superceded most of its predecessors.


It took me several decades to realize that James Levine took his inspiration for this performance from the very odd recording of this symphony by Willem Mengelberg and the Concertgebouw Orchestra. Mengelberg slows down certain passages, especially in the first movement, so much that the motor rhythm practically stops, and this has been heavily criticized over the years, but he also imbued the music with an almost demonic intensity that took it away from the placid overview of the symphony as “a child’s view of heaven” and placed it into another realm. Levine borrowed the intense aspects of Mengelberg’s vision, but played the symphony in tempos much closer to those prescribed by Mahler, with the result being this classic of the phonograph.


Judith Blegen, though a fine and very musical soprano, does not have the finest voice for this music (that honor goes to Kathleen Battle, in her CBS recording with Lorin Maazel), yet she is quite good, and the overall impact of this recording is such that all subsequent interpretations are compared to it. That, in itself, qualifies this recording as Hall of Fame material.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

Personnel include: Ray C. Davis, Emma Williams, David Ross, Graham Hoadly, George Gillies, Carrie Fletcher, Emil Wolk, Anton Rodgers (vocals).
It is hard to resist the extravagant charms in the stage adaptation of CHITTY CHITTY BANG BANG (which is based on the MGM/United Artists movie of the same name), which is billed as "the most fantasmagorical stage musical in the history of everything!" The music and lyrics of Richard M. and Robert B. Sherman complement Jeremy Sams's stage script perfectly by creating the aural equivalent of the story's magic (the ultimate protagonist is, of course, a flying car). A 34-piece orchestra, directed by Robert Scott, backs the original London cast (led by Michael Ball and Emma Williams) on this fine recording that works alone and as a souvenir of one's visit to the theater.

This is an Enhanced CD, which contains both regular audio tracks and multimedia computer files.
This is a DSD (Direct Stream Digital) recording

This complete performance of Rigoletto from 1964 includes not only the Duke's second-act cabaletta, but more gloriously, the cadenza that Verdi composed (and not an abbreviation or ad libitum) for the Duke and Gilda before the "Addio" duet, a lovely moment that sounds like the joyous intertwining of a flute and an oboe. Georg Solti's leadership is very in-your-face, with the brass blaring and tempos generally fast, and while this attitude tends to underplay the opera's pathos, it does make for great excitement. Robert Merrill's Rigoletto is pretty much by-the-numbers with no deep insights, but it's well sung, with exactly the type of Italianate sound Verdi wanted. Alfredo Kraus was in peak form in 1964 and his Duke is by turns elegant, amorous, and biting. He caps "Possente amor" with a brain-splitting high-D. Anna Moffo has some bad habits--she scoops her way into notes in a manner that's supposed to be girlish, but is in fact irritating--but she sings with great warmth and attention to the text when Solti's tempos allow. And in the end, she's very touching. Despite Solti's somewhat brutal approach and Merrill's generic rendering of the title role, this is recommended.

--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com

RCA's "Rediscovered" series has given us important, previously unreleased recitals by such major artists as Richter, Horowitz, and Heifetz. Jussi Björling is to singers what those luminaries were to their instruments, among the best of the best. Much of his September 14, 1955 Carnegie Hall recital was issued on LP, and some selections have found their way onto CD. But this is the first issue in any format of the complete recital, encores and all, including some of the tenor's title announcements. Only some of the applause has been excised to keep the disc from spilling over onto a second CD, thus sparing us the annoyance of sitting through whistles and stomps from long-gone strangers, though enough is left to preserve the "live" atmosphere. Nine selections never have been issued before, and producer Jon Samuels has done the requisite detective work to slot them into their proper sequence, no small task since Björling inserted encores at various points of the prepared program, not just at the end.

Björling fans most likely will have the majority of these songs and arias in their collections, many in multiple versions. But if they want the complete 1955 recital--and they should, as should all lovers of great singing--they'll need this welcome disc. The nine new items include arias from Cavalleria rusticana (Addio alla madre), Andrea Chenier (Come un bel di), La Bohème (Che gelida manina), and songs by Grieg, Sibelius, and Sjöberg. Whether this or that selection is the "best" available by Björling is a moot point; those made in the 1930s featured a lighter, ravishing voice, the later ones an instrument with more depth and body. Later often equals more subtle interpretations, as this 1955 Beethoven song "Adelaide" demonstrates, with its sophisticated use of rubato and changes in tonal color that reflect textual nuances, not to mention the added fervor of a singer projecting into Carnegie's vast space.

The Schubert group is highlighted by a tender "Ständchen" and an intense, pull-out-all-the-stops "Die böse Farbe". Björling's gorgeous middle voice and silvery top pay dividends in Mozart's "Il mio tesoro", where he negotiates the coloratura well and makes Don Ottavio less of a wimp than usual. As in any Björling recital, the usual suspects are here, but since he was really "on" that night, they're as thrilling as ever--a "Flower Song" from Carmen both tender and ardent, the ravishing "La Rêve" from Manon, and "Amor di vieta", among others. The latter aria should be heard by benighted individuals who subscribe to the strange notion that Björling was a "cool" singer in the Italian repertoire. The Scandanavian set is another of the many highlights, beautiful songs sung with elegance. And has Stephen Foster's "Jeanie With the Light Brown Hair" ever sounded more lovely? Björling's lightly accented English, wide vocal range, and respect for his material, coloring words as if they were a Schubert song, make it irresistible.

Jon Samuels' transfers easily eclipse all other releases of this material, giving us not only the incomparable sound of Björling's voice, but also a realistic rendering of the important way in which Frederick Schauwecker's piano supports and interacts with that voice, along with a sense of hall ambience rare for monophonic recordings. This disc offers 80 minutes of bliss. Get it.
--Dan Davis, ClassicsToday.com

Brahms: Ein deutsches Requiem