LENTZ Point Conception. 1 NightBreaker 2 • Arlene Dunap (pn); 1 Bryn Pezzone (pn) 2 • COLD BLUE 28 (46:22)


Daniel Lentz was particularly active and visible in the 1970s and 1980s, as one of the leading California composers of a Minimalist stamp. If Ingram Marshall was the moody, soulful voice of the Bay Area, with its fogs and mists, Lentz (b. 1942) was the L.A. freeway on overdrive: bright, edgy, poppy sounds and rhythms hammered about by mostly electronic keyboards. The music, with its sudden (and often) changes of harmony, felt like a sort of cubistic Minimalism. And its sound was unforgettable.


Of course the music lives on. I’m only using the past tense because Lentz seems to have dropped out of the scene (I’ll emphasize “seems” because it’s so easy to be contradicted by life). On the Web, the last mentioned piece comes from about 10 years ago, and there’s a cryptic reference to his current work of building kinetic sound-sculptures. I’d certainly be eager to experience whatever he’s whipping up now.


This disc contains one masterwork, Point Conception (1979). It’s a piece for nine pianos, but I doubt it’s really meant ever to be done live. Instead, this version is a multitracking of one player. What makes the piece quite ingenious is that each part plays nothing but octaves, often focused on one pitch. But when combined together, like the dots of a pointillist painting, the result can be dazzling. Aside from the technical trick, this is powerful stuff. The music clocks in at about 37 minutes, and it never lets up. There’s a sense that at each plateau, which could be an ending, the piece picks itself up, takes a breath, and then leaps to a greater height. Its energy and interest never flag.


Nightbreaker is from 1990. It’s a quarter the length of Point Conception , and it starts off as much more languid and jazzy. It picks up the pace, though, to reach a certain frenzy by the end. I would call it a sketch for the larger work, except that it’s a decade later—so perhaps we can call it a fragment from the workbench instead. In any case, it’s appealing; but it pales somewhat in comparison to its big brother.


Point Conception was released by Cold Blue on an LP about two decades ago, and its return in the remastered version is most welcome. Nightbreaker is a premiere recording. Both pieces help to round out our sense of a somewhat mysterious voice in the American progressive music tradition, who I frankly hope still has an act or two left in him.


FANFARE: Robert Carl

Includes work(s) by Franz Joseph Haydn. Ensemble: Toronto Chamber Orchestra. Conductor: Kevin Mallon.

This recording is the third of Lully's Armide; the other two, from 1983 (Erato) and 1992 (Harmonia Mundi), were led by Philippe Herreweghe. The first, which I've not heard, eliminated the opera's fourth act, in which minor characters are tempted by Armide and the plot is otherwise not advanced. The second recording, starring Guillaumette Laurens and Howard Crook as Armide and Renaud, is complete and is an elegant reading, with some fire from Laurens.

The Washington, DC-based Opera Lafayette's recording under consideration here is trimmed. Gone is the Prologue, which is the usual love poem to Louis XIV that these operas called for, this one with the allegorical figures of Wisdom and Glory praising him to the skies. It contains some lovely music, but is superfluous to the plot; it was cut as early as 1761 (probably a political rather than musical decision; in any event Louis never saw the work). Conductor Ryan Brown also chops a few repeats in the dances, one of the Shepherd's arias, and a few minutes of the fourth act. I didn't miss any of it, dramatically, but it's nice to know it can be heard on Herreweghe's second recording. Brown gives us two hours of cohesive music-drama.

The plot is well-known, and in fact the same libretto (by Phillippe Quinault) was set by Gluck in 1776 (the Lully dates from 1686). Opera lovers also will be familiar with the Rossini and Handel operas that treat the story of the sorceress Armida's infatuation with the knight, Rinaldo; there are variations, but the outlines are the same.

Lully's opera, his last, was a great and lasting success, what with demons destroying enchanted palaces and all, and with music that never ceases to please. Both leads are well drawn, with Armide's wickedness on a grand scale (her love for Renaud almost enough for us to feel for her) and Renaud's valor and sweetness displayed in equal proportion. The dance intervals are colorfully scored and utterly delightful.

The stars of this set, the mezzo Stephanie Houtzeel and tenor Robert Getchell, are excellent. She has plenty of character to her tone, sings with nice ferocity in her second-act "Enfin il est en ma puissance", charm in the fifth-act love duet, and both resignation and fury in her final number. The voice is substantial, and while she never resorts to chest voice, a good snarl occasionally slips out. Laurens has only a slight edge over Houtzeel; the former is more comfortable with ornamentation and dramatic stresses.

No apologies need be made for Robert Getchell, a "French" tenor of the best kind, heroically "bright" enough and gently loving enough, singing with fine French diction. And his tone is beautiful. (A note: He studied with Howard Crook.) The cast's other standout, tenor Tony Boutté, sings a Danish Knight (some of his music is omitted in Act 4) and a Lucky Lover and I'm sure he will soon be graduating to the role of Renaud. His voice sits high and is clear enough for Gluck's Orphée as well.

William Sharp uses his not-very-weighty baritone voice to enliven La Haine, and he means every word. As Armide's confidantes, Ann Monoyios and Miram Dubrow are effective, though the latter strays from pitch early on as Sidonie. François Loup, doing double duty as Hidraot, Armide's wicked uncle, and Ubalde, Renaud's good friend, oversings as the former to compensate for a tone not quite large enough. The others are all excellent.

I wish that Ryan Brown's orchestra were bigger; there are some moments in this work that require more sheer noise than 27 players can make (and they don't always play at once). Herreweghe gets it just right and the drama seems properly dark despite the inherent frills. To sum up, not only is this set the only one currently available, it's a bargain and very good all around. You'll miss about 30 minutes of music, but the two hours you do get are splendid.

--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

Classical Music

Another wonderful disc from Ilya Kaler.

Ilya Kaler’s new recording of the Brahms concerto on Naxos is eminently recommendable. When reviewing his recent recording of the Tchaikovsky violin concerto (see review) I remarked that Kaler’s performance was one “of elegance as well as brilliance” that “wears it war-horse status lightly, impressing itself upon the listener by virtue of its freshness and natural feeling”. Those comments are equally applicable to this recording.

Kaler’s conception of Brahms’ score is one that rejoices in its beauties. Ably supported by the warm sounds exhaled by the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, Kaler’s violin sings with a golden tone and sweetly inflected phrasing. He takes his time over the first movement, but maintains his rhythmic control and sense of the music’s overall architecture. In this his performance succeeds where, as Jonathan Woolf points out, Julia Fischer’s similarly conceived account fails. Kaler also lingers lovingly over the gorgeous slow movement – taking over 10 minutes. His pacing is more conventional in the Hungarian finale, which smiles more than it swaggers here.

The coupling of Brahms and Schumann is astute. Firstly it makes programmatic sense. Both concertos share the tonality of D – Brahms in the glowing major, Schumann in the dramatic minor. Both were written for Joachim, and the bond between Schumann and Brahms themselves is as well known as it is complicated.

Secondly, the coupling is an attractive addition to the Naxos catalogue. It complements an earlier disc (Naxos 8.550938), on which Kaler joins cellist Maria Kliegel in Brahms’ double concerto, offered as a coupling for Kliegel’s performance of the Schumann cello concerto. Buy these two discs, and you have the complete Schumann and Brahms string concertos at one fell swoop.

The coupling of the Schumann and Brahms concertos is also fairly unusual in the broader catalogue. While recordings of the Brahms proliferate, there are few recordings of the Schumann concerto and when they do appear they tend to be lumped together with more Schumann. Only Joshua Bell, to my knowledge, has coupled these two concertos on disc before. That disc now forms half of a mid-price twofer in the price bracket above this release (Decca – The Joshua Bell Edition – 4756703). Bell's recording is also available at bargain basement price on Australian Eloquence, but sundered from its Brahms coupling.

Schumann wrote his violin concerto very quickly in the autumn of 1853. Joseph Joachim and Clara Schumann had reservations about the piece. In happier times Schumann would probably have revised the piece, but the rapid decline in his mental health prevented this and the score languished unplayed and unknown until the 1930s. It is an attractive piece, constructed along classical lines, and deserves more attention and respect than it is usually accorded. The first movement has a symphonic seriousness and integrity, contrasting the wild, surging argument of its first subject with a gentle, sensitive second subject. The central movement is quietly beautiful. The finale, in the form of a polonaise and with prominent wind writing, brings the concerto dancing to a close.

Kaler's performance is successful and offers collectors a distinct choice. Bell's recording has a straight forward brilliance and Kremer's EMI recording with Muti, like Menuhin's electric premiere recording of the uncut score, emphasises the drama of the work. Kaler takes a different view. Again favouring spacious tempi – his first movement at 14:28 takes a minute longer than Bell's and two minutes longer than Menuhin's – he presents the concerto very much as the classical conception of a poetic soul. Where the other interpreters listed above play for Florestan, Kaler takes Eusebius' part.

The balance favours the violin in both concertos, but there is air enough around the soloist, and the warm Lighthouse Concert Hall acoustic gives the orchestral sound a lovely glow. Listening through earphones can be disconcerting in the Schumann where either Kaler's or the conductor’s breathing is quite prominent. I did not notice this so much when listening through speakers.

Keith Anderson's liner-notes live up to his usual high standard, but gloss over the circumstances of the Schumann concerto's rediscovery by Joachim's great-niece and avoid entirely discussion of the political wrangling over the concerto's premiere performances.

Another wonderful disc from Ilya Kaler and a bargain of the month.

-- Tim Perry, MusicWeb International

The Naxos Deutsche Schubert-Lied-Edition: Schubert set the poetry of over 115 writers to music. He selected poems from classical Greece, the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, from eighteenth-century German authors, early Romantics, Biedermeier poets.

Bruckner, A.: Symphony No. 6

Van Cliburn's youthful impetuosity is most convincing. This is very much a performance that takes one along with it, just as a fine performance live in the concert hall would.

It is some eighteen months since Van Cliburn's surprisingly successful account of the Brahms Second Concerto appeared, and on the face of it this vast youthful inspiration of the First Concerto should suit Van Cliburn's special qualities even more closely. And so it proves, and though Leinsdorf and the Boston Symphony do not prove such perceptive collaborators as the lamented Reiner with his Chicago Orchestra, this is in terms of pianistic display and dynamic driving force as exciting a performance as we have ever had on record. The way for example that Van Cliburn in the finale sweeps the music on from the first subject into the second is irresistible. Those pianists who insist on relaxing may seem a little lacking in excitement in direct comparison—even to Clifford Curzon. Where they score—and Curzon of course is the prime example of a thinking virtuoso in this work—is in the subtlety of shading. You could not claim for Van Cliburn much sense of 'inner' thoughtfulness. But that does not mean he is hard, and throughout the warmth of the playing is as striking as the dynamic drive. It is a pity perhaps that in the American manner the soloist is put so close to the microphone, for it is hard for him to achieve a real pianissimo, however gently he plays. But RCA's technique of spotlighting individual instruments (not merely the piano) pays off very well at the climax of the slow movement—a moment that for me at least is perhaps the most important single passage in the whole work. If in the great call of the rising fourths slowly enunciated over piano arpeggios you have a sense of culmination and achievement such as opera composers provide at moments of dramatic catharsis, then I am disposed to think favourably of the whole performance. It is so with the Gimpel performance on HMV Concert Classics where Kempe is marvellous, and here Leinsdorf (with the help of the spotlighting engineers) directs with more warmth than I remember from him for a long time.

In the first movement of course, Curzon's subtlety coupled with his wiry strength is a hard combination to compete with, but Van Cliburn's youthful impetuosity is most convincing. The speed is not fast (much less fast than in the Fleisher/Szell performance for example) and Leinsdorf, though not specially good on detail, gives the music a tremendous sweep which exactly matches the soloist's sense of command.

I hope I have made it clear that this is very much, a performance that 'adds up'. In other words it takes one along with it, just as a fine performance live in the concert hall, and on that account I have been wary of drawing too sharp a contrast with Curzon on the basis of a side-by-side comparison of extracts. Curzon, I think, would be most people's choice, but if I wanted bravura above all, then Van Cliburn even more than his fellow young American, Leon Fleisher, provides it. Apart from the balance, the recording—I have so far heard mono only—is good, though it never achieves the atmospheric clarity that the Decca engineers provided for Curzon.

-- Gramophone [3/1965]
reviewing the original LP release of the concerto

The outstanding English composer working in the mid-20th century, Benjamin Britten won a significant international reputation, whilst remaining thoroughly English in inspiration.

Gerald Finzi made an important contribution to British twentieth-century song, choral and orchestral repertoire. His acute awareness of the frailty of existence found it's musical expression not only in his song settings, but in the Cello Concerto.

A real bargain and the best way to have these symphonies at very affordable cost.

This release is in many ways even more attractive than volume 1, containing the Symphonies Nos. 1 and 6 and reviewed here earlier. For those who do not know Nielsen’s music, this would be the perfect place to start.

Both of these symphonies represent the composer at the height of his maturity and both contain many memorable tunes. They are also very well orchestrated and contain both power and poetry. There is not a dull moment in either symphony. Highlights include the Allegro comodo e flemmatico second movement of the Second Symphony and the Andante pastorale second movement of the Third Symphony with its ethereal vocalise by tenor and soprano. But then there is also the Third’s first movement with its great waltz and the symphony’s noble finale. Likewise, the Second has one of the most joyous finales I know of.

Schønwandt and his Danish forces have the measure of both symphonies and for my money beat out the competition in both. The main rival for these works, as with the symphonies in volume 1, is Herbert Blomstedt and the San Francisco Symphony on Decca. I did an A/B comparison and feel that the balance is just tipped in Schønwandt’s favor. There is a certain rightness, a natural pace, that’s hard to explain, but is definitely there in these accounts. Furthermore, the warmth of the Danish Radio Concert Hall is a real advantage in these particular works — not as crucial in the Sixth Symphony, though. At the same time, there is a clarity and lightness that allows all the detail to register. Blomstedt’s accounts tend to be more brilliant, as is Decca’s sound, and at times can seem a little relentless. For example, his faster tempo for the Second Symphony’s finale pushes the music a little harder than Schønwandt’s slightly slower, but clearer version. Also, the sound as recorded in San Francisco’s Davies Hall can get muddy in the bass and make the textures clotted. Schønwandt sets an ideal tempo in this movement and there is a real feeling of joy in this Allegro sanguineo. I still like the Blomstedt performances of these works for their power and the brilliance of the orchestra. For example, those horns in the waltz climax of the Third Symphony’s first movement are pretty spectacular, even if Schønwandt’s more backwardly balanced ones (at 6:09) allow the rest of the orchestra to come through better. Schønwandt also achieves a perfect placement with his vocal soloists in this symphony. They are treated as instruments and blend well with the rest of the orchestra, creating a feeling of distance. Nonetheless, I would not want to be without either recording of these works. Then there is Myung-Whun Chung’s highly regarded BIS recording of the Second Symphony (see review) coupled with the Aladdin Suite to be considered. I haven’t heard that one for a number of years, but it was also high in my affections.

A couple of extra-musical details should be mentioned. First, the order of the works as listed above is the order on the disc. Why they placed the Symphony No. 3 ahead of No. 2 is a mystery. However, it also followed this order on the original Dacapo CD. It really does not matter as the player can be programmed to play in either order, if one were wanting to hear the works in the sequence in which they were composed. Second, as in the earlier Naxos disc mentioned above, the notes in the booklet are briefer and less detailed than on the original release — but very good all the same. Finally, since I have a copy of the Dacapo disc, I was able to do a sound comparison. I heard no difference between the original and the new budget release.

This, then, is a real bargain and the best way to have these symphonies at a very affordable cost. Indeed, I would recommend them at any price!

-- Leslie Wright, MusicWeb International

There are times when a disk drops through my letterbox and, after tearing the wrapping off the parcel, I look at the CD and despair, wondering do we really need yet another, in this case, recording of Debussy’s popular orchestral works? Then I play the disk and am pleasantly surprised. So it is with this disk. Märkl’s up against very stiff competition – Ansermet, Barbirolli, Boulez and Martinon to name but a few – but he’s his own man and gives us his own view of the music.

The Prélude is very well done. The solo flute is suitably sensuous, and is ably complemented by the solo oboe. Also, I have never heard the two solo violins, at the end, sound quite as winsome as they do here. The big tune in the middle is allowed to expand as it should and the delicate final pages, with slightly too reticent antique cymbals, is well controlled.

La Mer is almost as fine a performance. Starting very mysteriously, Märkl builds up the tension until the music bursts forth with animation. It’s a fine achievement. However, when the second part of the first movement begins, with cellos in eight parts, it’s too reticent and lacks the momentum required to push the music forwards. When Satie first heard this movement, From Dawn to Midday on the Sea, he quipped that he especially enjoyed the bit at a quarter to eleven. Strange as this may seem I think I know the moment he means – at four bars after rehearsal number 13 there is a static section where cor anglais and two solo cellos play a long breathed theme over sustained chords, it’s a magical moment which prepares us for the build up to the climactic final bars. Märkl makes these few bars quite magical and the calm is quite stunning. The coda is well built but the final three chords – which should beat us about the head with their power – fail to completely satisfy. The scherzo, Play of the Waves, is too heavy handed and the important colouristic glockenspiel part all but inaudible. The tension and suspense of the final movement, Dialogue between the Wind and the Sea, is very well done. The climaxes are well developed and the changes of mood and tempo very well handled. There is one strange moment – at rehearsal number 53 the horns play a triplet, followed, in the next bar, by two minim chords. In this recording we are treated to an extra triplet chord! I’ve played this moment several times, thinking my ears were deceiving me, but no, it’s there, an extra triplet beat. As it’s an exact repeat of what they played six bars earlier I’m mystified by what happens. Why is this extra chord there and what is the purpose? I doubt it’s an editing error so the conductor must have heard it as the horns played the passage. Curiouser and curiouser. Better news is that four bars after rehearsal number 59, under the big chords for winds and strings, Märkl plays the brass fanfares which, more often than not, are ignored by conductors as not being in a real Debussy style. Perhaps they are somewhat unsubtle for Debussy, and for this moment, but without them the music suddenly stops dead, it seems empty, something has to be played there and if these fanfares are all we have then we have to have them. It’s a good performance but it lacks that final insight, that ultimate injection of energy which makes the Hallé/Barbirolli recording so memorable and compelling.

Jeux is one of Debussy’s most elusive scores (it was his last orchestral work). It’s a ballet which concerns a lost tennis ball and a boy and two girls who look for it, as they play hide and seek, try to catch one another, quarrel and sulk without cause. Their games are interrupted when another tennis ball is mischievously thrown in by an unknown hand which surprises and alarms them and they disappear into the nocturnal depths of the garden. The story isn’t important. Debussy’s music is. It receives an excellent performance here – Märkl fully understands what is going on in the music and leads his players through the myriad tempo changes, keeps the ever changing orchestral colouring alive and generally makes clear music which so often sounds confused and muddled. You’d be hard pressed to find a finer performance on disk.

André Caplet was a close friend of Debussy and worked on the orchestration of the latter’s incidental music for Gabriele D’Annunzio’s play Le Martyre de Saint-Sébastien and the ballet La Boîte à joujou. He also made two, superb, reductions for two pianos, four hands and six hands, of La Mer, and made orchestral transcriptions of several piano works. Children’s Corner is a delightful six movement suite for solo piano; it’s light hearted, full of fun and several of the movements have become popular independently of the suite – The Little Shepherd and Golliwog’s Cake-walk in particular. Caplet’s orchestration has always struck me as being rather heavy handed – odd for so skilful an orchestrator – but here he has met his match with perfect piano music which does not lend itself to orchestration. Märkl does his best but, ultimately, it’s still too heavy and much of the humour is lost.

Apart from Jeux, which is superb, I would not put these performances of La Mer and the Prélude ahead of other recordings which are currently available - those conductors listed above - but they are very serviceable and if you’re on a tight budget, or just wanting to dip your toes in the Debussian water for the first time, then at the bargain price you’ll get much from these atmospheric readings.

-- Bob Briggs, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

Così fan tutte is Mozart's third opera to a Da Ponte libretto. It is in opera buffa style and has only six characters, two couples and an elderly philosopher and a trusted maid. In this recording Lesley Garrett sings the part of the maid, Despina, and the celebrated veteran Sir Thomas Allen the philosopher, Don Alfonso. Despite the somewhat cynical storyline this opera contains some of Mozart's most memorable and sublime music. The conductor, Sir Charles Mackerras, has spent many years researching performance practice of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and is a noted authority on Mozart's operas. He writes of this recording, 'it is indeed a pleasure having the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment lending its expertise in tonal colour, phrasing and rhythmic impulse to Mozart's wonderful score...I have chosen to record this English version of Così fan tutte with the traditional cuts, thus making it closer to a staged performance'. The English translation, by the Rev. Browne, was first used in London at a performance conducted by Sir Charles Villiers Stanford in 1890.

Classical Music

Gioachino Rossini’s remarkable life and career is well known: the opera composer who, with the world at his feet, appeared to retire at the age of 37. He had around 17 years of huge success with operas such as Il Barbiere di Siviglia, and after completing his last opera Guillaume Tell, he had another 39 years of ‘silence’. The second period of his life was in fact anything but silent, and Rossini would later turn up with pieces such as the Stabat Mater and the wonderful Petit messe solennelle.

More private were the creations which became collected as the Péchés de vieillesse or ‘Sins of Old Age’, which are contained in fourteen volumes. Some of these are for voice and piano, others, such as volume IX, include pieces with strings, harmonium and horn, the solo piano works from which appear at the end of this programme. Album de Chaumière or ‘The Cottage Album’ is the no doubt ironically twee title given to volume VII, the first of the albums for solo piano. This consists of 12 pieces ranging from titles such as Petite polka chinoise to works of a grander scale such as Une pensée à Florence. Rossini’s attitude with these works is frequently ironic and often deceptive. Confronted with a title such as Prélude inoffensif, one might expect something other than the extended lyrical aria which in fact appears. The generally light character of many of the pieces is interspersed with more searching, funereal atmospheres such as that in Un profound sommeil, and Un cauchemar – literally ‘A Nightmare’. In these pieces we are not so very far removed from the symbolic cries of the owl in Leoš Janá?ek’s ‘On a Overgrown Path.’ On the complete opposite there are parody-like pieces such as the bombastic Marche which closes Vol. VII.

Alessandro Marangoni is a young pianist and a rising star whose reputation will in no way be harmed with these recordings. Whatever one thinks of these ‘Sins of Old Age’ they are certainly a fascinatingly enigmatic and eclectic mixture of Rossini in all moods. Fans of the Petit messe solenelle must certainly investigate these pieces, as the thick piano chords and bouncy bass lines which crop up in that work are certainly not absent here. Fans of Rossini’s operas are also kept well fed with rich melodic invention, if performed instrumentally rather than vocally. This Naxos recording is very good, with a rich, deep piano sound, if captured in a rather dry and tubby acoustic. The impression is one of a front room soirée rather than a concert hall performance, which isn’t such a bad thing for these pieces. I do however feel that a slightly more sympathetic space might have helped Alessandro Marangoni when trying to give a more legato feel, or in varying the colour and mood. The pieces come across a little on the lumpy side sometimes, and the contrast between some of the works is less startling than might otherwise have been the case.

This new series will have to compete with the recordings by Stefan Irmer on MDG, and although there is no information on the instrument used in the Naxos recording – other than that it is a Steinway & Sons from the Angelo Fabbrini collection, it gives the impression of being an older instrument, a quality it would then share with the MDG recordings. The bass has a pleasant rounded quality, and the usual Steinway brightness only really shines through in the upper registers at higher volume. Any reservations I may have can be accounted for as a matter of personal taste, so nothing I say should stop anyone from dropping into their local retailer and bagging this remarkable release forthwith. This is going to turn into another of Naxos’s eminently collectable sets, and on this showing will prove to be worth it at almost any price.

-- Dominy Clements, MusicWeb International

MENDELSSOHN Cello Sonatas: in B?, op. 45; in D, op. 58. Variations concertantes, op. 17. Assai tranquillo. Lieder ohne Worte, op.19a/1,3,6 (arr. Piati); op.109 • Antonio Meneses (vc); Gérard Wyss (pn) • AVIE 2140 (72:45)


As Chopin’s works for cello owe their genesis to his association with Franchomme, so Mendelssohn’s pieces were written with specific cellists in mind. The charming and brilliant Variations concertantes (1829) and the First Sonata (1838) were written for the composer’s talented younger brother, Paul. In the interim, Mendelssohn composed the charming albumblatt, known as the Assai tranquillo , as a gift for his Düsseldorf colleague, Julius Rietz. The weightier Second Sonata, from 1843, is dedicated to Count Mateusz Wielhorski, who became a professional cellist on his retirement from the Russian army and eventually an important patron of music in St. Petersburg. Mendelssohn’s last work for cello and piano, the poetic Song without Words , op 109, is dedicated to Lisa Cristiani, one of the few women cellists of the time. Three of the piano solo Songs without Words , transcribed by the cellist Alfredo Piatti, who was much admired by Mendelssohn when they met in London, are interspersed among the original works on this disc.


The distinguished Antonio Meneses—a celebrated soloist and, since 1998, cellist with the Beaux Arts Trio—is a near-ideal interpreter of this important Romantic repertoire. Commanding a rich and varied tonal palette, Meneses approaches Mendelssohn’s essentially lyric expression with poise and equilibrium. This does not mean that passion and drama are given short shrift. In the Scherzo of the D-Major Sonata, the cunning pizzicatos verge on the sinister, only to be dispelled by the flowing cantabile of the trio. During the ensuing Adagio, one of the most beautiful slow movements in Mendelssohn’s chamber music, the cello interrupts the piano’s chorale figure with a series of recitatives. Meneses imbues these passages with a poetic utterance that is disarming in its intensity. His reading of the op. 109 Song without Words is the finest I can remember. Though Gérard Wyss’s piano-playing may lack a certain polish and finesse, his musical instincts are acute, and he remains the sensitive and supportive partner throughout.


Musically speaking, these performances will comfortably take their place alongside other admired readings of the repertoire, including those of Mischa Maisky and Sergio Tiempo (DG 471565) and János Starker and György Sebok (Mercury 434377). The recording, however, made in England in June 2007 at Potton Hall, Suffolk, doesn’t seem to do full justice to Meneses’s wonderful sound. It’s difficult to tell if poor microphone placement or a problematic acoustic space is the culprit, but presence and blend are lackluster. Stephen Pettitt contributed the informative and inviting notes.


FANFARE: Patrick Rucker

Classical Music

Classical Music

BRAHMS: SERENADE NO 2, ETC TI

V 14: MUSICA CLAROMONTANA

Mackerras unseated? This magical version from Australia comes close

Chandos certainly has guts, going toe-to-toe with Mackerras’s Gramophone Award-winning set. Hickox’s Australian forces need not fear the comparison. Cheryl Barker may not have the refulgent tones of Renée Fleming on Decca (who has?) but she is even more moving in conveying Rusalka’s desperation. Mackerras is still my must-own, but this runs it close.

-- Gramophone [3/2008]

Classical Music

SCHUBERT Piano Sonatas: No. 1 in E, D 157 ; No. 8 in f?, D 571/D 570/D 604 ; No. 15 in C, D 840 “Reliquie.” Fragments: in c?, D 655; in e, D 769a • Gottlieb Wallisch (pn) • NAXOS 8.570118 (72:23)


The young Viennese pianist Gottlieb Wallisch confirms the favorable impression he made on an earlier set of Schubert’s fragments and unfinished piano sonatas, reviewed in Fanfare 30:1 last year. The works on the present CD include sketches, fragments, and unfinished works from 1815–25, and once again, Wallisch enhances his performances with insightful and illuminating notes. He does not offer any “completions” of these fragments, as many pianists have attempted, but simply stops playing when the music breaks off. There is no completely satisfying explanation of why Schubert left so many of the piano sonatas unfinished, but Wallisch’s concluding words offer some consolation: “These fragmentary works very often breathe a special mysterious poetry. They provide a fuller view of Schubert’s creative process and musical thinking and at the same time bring to life for us his journey and quest.” Nowhere are these words better exemplified than in Wallisch’s haunting performance of the fragmentary first movement of the F? Minor Sonata, D 571.


The so-called “Reliquie” (all the unfinished works are “relics,” after all) is the most complete, as well as the most important of this group of works. Schubert finished the first two movements and the Trio section of the Menuetto and Trio, but left the Menuetto and the final Rondo incomplete. The loss is even more significant because, as Wallisch notes, this sonata inaugurated a new creative stage with a return to sonata-writing after a two-year pause. Schubert was, according to one of his letters, preparing through his instrumental compositions to pave the way for “great symphonies,” and the “Reliquie” exemplifies this ambition to a great extent. Quoting Wallisch’s notes again, “the piano-writing is laid out very orchestrally, and the individual sections and formal structures take on . . . symphonic dimensions.” Wallisch’s interpretation does full justice to the grandeur of Schubert’s vision; it is as eloquent as the performance by the fine Finnish pianist Ralf Gothoni, who made a magnificent recording of the “Reliquie” many years ago on the Ondine label (now unfortunately out of print).


Wallisch, who was a finalist in both the Queen Elisabeth and Clara Haskil competitions, is an accomplished and sensitive Schubert-player. The warmth in his playing complements Schubert’s poignant and expressive writing, while his sparkling touch brings lightness and gracefulness to livelier movements. Recorded in England in 2005, the piano sound is rich and real.


There is no mention of a continuation of the sonata cycle, but I urge Schubert-lovers to keep an eye out for future recordings as Wallisch approaches the great sonatas of Schubert’s maturity.


FANFARE: Susan Kagan