Classical Music

Classical Music

Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904) Gabriela Benackova, soprano; Josef Suk, violin & violaJaroslav Soucek, baritone; Josef Hala, pianoCzech Philharmonic Chorus; Prague Philharmonia;Czech Philharmonic Orchestra; Panocha Quartet; Smetana Quartet Symphony no 9 in E minor, Op. 95/B 178; Te Deum, Op. 103;String Quartet no 12 in F major, Op. 96/B 179Sonatina in G major for Violin & Piano, Op. 100/B 183String Quartet no 3 in E flat major, Op. 97/B 180Silent Woods for Cello & Orchestra, Op. 68 no 5/B 182Rondo in G minor for Cello & Orchestra, Op. 94 /B 181Humoresque, Op 101 no 7/B 187; Suite in A major, Op. 98b/B 190Cello Concerto no 2 in B minor, Op. 104/B 191

Classical Music

Classical Music

DVORAK Cello Concerto in b 1. Lasst mich allein, op. 82/1 (arr. Lenehan) 2. Rondo in g, op. 94 2. Goin’ Home (arr. Fisher and Lenehan) 2. Songs my mother taught me , op. 55/4 (arr. Grünfeld) 2. Silent Woods, op. 68/5 2. Slavonic Dance in g, op. 46/8 2 • Alisa Weilerstein (vc); 2 Anna Polansky (pn); 1 Jirí Belohlávek, cond; 1 Czech PO • DECCA 0019765-02 (67:10)


DVORAK Cello Concertos: in A; in b. Rondo in g, op. 94. Silent Woods, op. 68/5 • Tomás Jamník (vc); Tomás Netopil, cond; Czech PO • SUPRAPHON 4034-2 (2 CDs: 89:53)


‘Tis apparently the season for me to review recordings of Dvorák’s cello concertos; in the previous issue (37:5) I discussed the recent pairing of those two works by Steven Isserlis, and now in addition to these two sets I also cover a historic live performance with Pablo Casals elsewhere in this issue. This is not a complaint, mind you; far from it. The B-Minor Concerto is both one of my very favorite concertos for any instrument (along with the Brahms D-Minor Piano Concerto and the Bruch G-Minor Violin Concerto), and on my short list (say, my top 25 entries) of favorite orchestral works, so it is always a treat to encounter it again. And, given my deep love for Dvorák’s music in general (only the operas do not register with me), I have a great fondness for the early A-Major Concerto as well, despite its obvious flaws.


In my review of the Isserlis recording, I regretfully opined that “there is no doubt for a moment that one of the world’s great cellists is playing, and that he has a very fine conductor and accomplished orchestra as his partners. Somehow, however, a fully idiomatic feeling for this work eludes their sensibilities.” No such complaint can be made about either of these two recordings; both are very good, if perhaps just shy of the very top tier, albeit for different reasons. Still only 32 years old, Alisa Weilerstein has already been deservedly established for several years as one of the world’s top cellists, and no one should take my previous critical review of her DVD of the Elgar Concerto in 34:4 as indicating a lack of admiration for her on my part. On the contrary: in November 2009 I heard her play the Dvorák B-Minor Concerto with Peter Oundjian and the Philadelphia Orchestra, and “breathtakingly superlative” is a woefully inadequate description of that performance. (At one point in the finale, Weilerstein, Oundjian, and the orchestra wound one section down to total silence and held that for three or four seconds, and there wasn’t so much as a single cough or rustle from the audience.) Whereas that performance was deeply probing of the melancholic undercurrents of the score, this version is very much a young person’s take instead, with a total emphasis on sunny lyricism and the joy of homecoming. While the movement timings (14: 42, 11:23, 12:37) are thoroughly mainstream, the reading has a very brisk, occasionally even almost breathless, feel to it, with the eager enthusiasm of a high-spirited filly just waiting to bolt out of the gate for a frisky gallop. Ji?í B?lohlávek seconds Weilerstein at every step of the way, and of course the Czech Philharmonic has this music in its blood. As the contrast with the live Philadelphia performance I witnessed shows, the interpretive outlook here is one of very conscious choice; and while I favor a more ruminative approach that brings out the work’s more pensive side, this is a refreshingly different take that makes one think about it anew, and I heartily recommend it accordingly.


I am less enthusiastic about the rest of the disc, however. In the filler pieces—the G-Minor Rondo and Silent Woods in their piano accompaniment versions before Dvorák orchestrated them (though Silent Woods was first composed for piano four-hands), plus four shorter pieces in various arrangements (though no arranger is credited for the Slavonic Dance in G Minor)—Weilerstein is accompanied by pianist Anna Polonsky. While it is good to have the Lasst mich allein that the composer drew on for thematic references in the second and third movements of the B-Minor Concerto, as well as the Rondo and Silent Woods , the performances are rather generic in outlook, and the other three pieces are unimpressively fluffy makeshift fillers, with Goin’ Home coming off as too saccharine. I wish that all concerned in this enterprise would have thought to offer the Rondo and Silent Woods in their orchestral guises as well; certainly the disc had enough room for that, and it would have been a major selling point to offer both versions of those works together. Decca provides warm sound with a bit of distance and a touch of resonance; the brief booklet notes are perfunctory. A minor irritant is the “classical cheesecake” photo on the booklet cover of Weilerstein in the woods, in what I derisively term “fetching feral female form.” (The photo on the back tray card is infinitely superior and should have been used for the booklet cover instead.) I suppose this is what advertising executives think will sell some additional copies to the general public, but an artist of Weilerstein’s stature deserves much better.


Tomás Jamník is even younger than Weilerstein—by three years, to be exact. While his performance of the B-Minor Concerto is also a youthful one, it is such in the more generic sense of not yet having a strongly individual interpretive profile. Whereas Weilerstein is already a full-fledged major interpreter, Jamník is still a promising talent who has not yet arrived at the same degree of artistic maturity. This is not to imply that he is faceless or callow; he has beautifully burnished tone and secure technique, and he tapers dynamics and phrases with genuine feeling. He just hasn’t quite reached the point yet where all the fine individual moments coalesce into a larger, cohesive, distinctive unity. Much the same can be said for the still relatively youthful but increasingly prominent conductor Tomá? Netopil; he understands what the score needs to say at any given moment, but has not yet quite gotten to the point of integrating those moments together into a more memorable and sweeping overarching framework. Overall it’s a very good and enjoyable performance in a mainstream interpretation; it just faces impossibly stiff competition from the likes of Rostropovich and Fournier, to name just two figures whose recordings rank among the immortals.


However, this set is far more fortunate in its pairings than is the Weilerstein CD. In the Rondo and Silent Woods , Jamník and Netopil have the totally idiomatic feel needed to give these smaller-scale works their full and due measure. And then there is the youthful A-Major Concerto as the other and most welcome anchor to this set. Having covered its somewhat tortuous history in previous reviews, I will not repeat myself on that point here. What I will say is that this is one of the two best versions of the cello and orchestra version available, the other being the performance by Ramon Jaffé, Daniel Raiskin, and the Staatsorchester Rheinische Phiharmonie. (Of the remainder, the performance played and conducted by Alexander Rudin, reviewed by Jerry Dubins in 37:3, ranks an honorable third. Avoid the utterly wooden version on Supraphon with Milo? Sádlo, Václav Neumann, and the Czech Philharmonic on Supraphon; the pedestrian and long out of print performance on Koch with Werner Thomas-Mifune, Rudolf Krecmer, and the Bamberg Symphony; and the Isserlis recording of the misbegotten Günther Raphael version recently dissected by me in my aforementioned review. The unabridged original piano and cello version with Ji?í Bárta and Jan ?ech on Supraphon is a must for fans of the work, though I’m much less impressed with the pianist than with the cellist there.) To repeat briefly what I said at the end of the Isserlis review, Jaffé and Raiskin are the superior interpretive team, but if you place a heavy premium on beauty of instrumental tone then you will prefer Jamník’s greater warmth and depth to the somewhat more wiry sound of Jaffé. In all four works the Prague Radio Symphony, like its bigger brother the Czech Philharmonic on the Decca release, has imbibed the composer’s music as mother’s milk and gives its interpretive all. While Supraphon’s basic recorded sound is quite good, there are occasional odd moments (such as the very beginning of the first CD) where there is some slight incipient background noise, almost like the surface noise of an LP. Detailed booklet notes are provided in English, German, French, and Czech. Jamník is an artist to watch, and it will be interesting to hear him revisit these works in another decade or so; warmly recommended.


FANFARE: James A. Altena

After having paid tribute to the legacy of the Czech Chamber Orchestra, Supraphon has now commemorated another ensemble connected with the violinist and conductor Josef Vlach, a gifted pupil of Josef Talich. Established in 1950, since 1954 the Vlach Quartet performed in the line-up in which it had triumphed in the competition in Liege and in which it conquered stages worldwide and made all the recordings featured on this album. Two exciting quartets, teh Smetana and the Vlach, were active in Prague, ensembles whose difference represented an inspiring polarity of approaches to music interpretation. Ivan Medek thus described the personality of Josef Vlach, who with kindness and authority alike formed the quartet's soul: ''Similarly to Talich, Vlach was not a scholarly artist. Yet he possessed a remarkable ability, an acute sense for that which is really strong and communicative in music. His intellect seemed to be constantly fed from an immense source of profound emotional inspiration.'' The Vlach Quartet recorded Beethoven's quartets within 10 years. Given the year in which it was recorded, 1956, the ''bonus'' Mozart quatet in D minor is one oft he ensemble's oldest recordings made soon after their victory in Liege. The presented Beethoven tracks are merely part of the Vlach Quartet's remarkable legacy, which encompasses quartet works by Czech composers, as well as by Brahms, Tchaikovsky, Debussy and Ravel.

This recording, although relatively new, is one of the rarest gems in the Supraphon archives. After the initial positive reactions the extraordinary quality of the recording was confirmed by prestigious Gramophone Awards; in addition to winning the chamber music category, the young ensemble also brought home from London the top prize: Recording of the Year. Eight years after the first edition, Supraphon is releasing this delicacy for true audiophiles. Dvorák’s mature works perhaps best mirror the ensemble’s extraordinary qualities: the equilibrium between precision and spontaneity, the remarkable ensemble playing, and the solo potential of all of the individual players. At the end of the draft of his Quartet Op. 96, Antonín Dvorák wrote the comment: “I’m satisfied; it went quickly…” Soon after the “New World Symphony”, he composed one of the most beautiful of all string quartets while still in America – and the critics were unsparing in their praise. For the Pavel Haas Quartet, both the “American” Quartet and the following Quartet Op. 106, the first work composed after the composer’s return home from America, are literally affairs of the heart. According to the Sunday Times: “In this repertoire, they are simply matchless today.” Dvorák might even have written his comment “I’m satisfied” about this recording as well.

Classical Music

Classical Music

This 4-disc set contains all of Dvorák’s piano quartets and quintets, plus his string quintets, the Sextet, and the Intermezzo (Nocturne) for string quintet–a movement that journeyed from the Fourth String Quartet to the Double Bass Quintet (the arrangement here), finally winding up as the Nocturne for String Orchestra. It remains one of the most harmonically forward-looking and poignant pieces that Dvorák ever wrote, and it’s no wonder that he loved it. One of the great things about the internet is the fact that everyone can use it to express their opinion. One of the worst things about the internet is that everyone can use it to express their opinion. In the latter category we find a whole host of what I call “dot-com cowards,” anonymous posters who feel they have a duty to share their views with the rest of us without having the guts or decency to stand behind their opinions by letting us know just who they are. Many of these people post on Amazon.com, where one such moron described these performances as “insensitive” and “heavy-handed,” and among the worst available.

It’s a pity, really, that such people are given a forum to display their ignorance, the evidence of which is strengthened by their need for anonymity and enchanting freedom from any feeling of obligation to describe a performance accurately. It’s not that I personally disagree with their judgment. It’s rather that the statements of what purport to be musical facts are audibly untrue. Consider, for example, the Panocha Quartet’s performance of finale of the “American” String Quintet. Is this “heavy handed?” Or how about the Suk Trio in the Second Piano Quartet’s first movement. Insensitive? Please.

The fact that we are dealing with Czech musicians does not guarantee that they will be successful in Czech music. The reason that these are great performances stems from the fact that they are played by great musicians generally. The Panocha Quartet is one of the supreme ensembles of its kind, period. The Suk Trio, similarly, which tackles the two Piano Quartets, is a superb ensemble, and not just in Dvorák (try their Beethoven). Anyone reading this will already know to take the random “reviews” posted on sales sites with a big grain of salt, but it still infuriates me to see audibly first class performances maligned by people too cowardly even to post their names.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

ANTONIN DVORAK: Eduard Haken; Milada Subrtova; Ivo Zidek; Marie Ovcacikova; Prague National Theatre/Zdenek Chalabala. ANTONIN DVORAK: Rusalka.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

This DVD includes a documentary on the renown Smetana Quartet and also includes performance footage by the quartet of Smetana's String Quartet #1 in E Minor and Quartet #2 in D Minor, along with Dvorak's Sextet in a Major, Op. 48.

DVO?ÁK Czech Suite, op. 39. Polonaise in E?. Waltzes, op. 54 (arr. J. Burghauser) ? Jakub Hr?Îa, cond; Prague Philharmonia ? SUPRAPHON SU 3867 (55:10)


It is easy to lose count of just how many top-notch orchestras there are in Prague: the Czech Philharmonic, Prague Philharmonic, Prague Symphony, Prague Radio Symphony, and the conductorless Prague Chamber Orchestra. Last but far from least is the Prague Philharmonia: soft, silky strings, colorful winds, shining brass; they, too, have it all. What a lovely disc! No masterpieces, you may carp? Just Dvo?ák being Dvo?ák is enough. The Czech Suite is filled with an easy charm, and Burghauser?s arrangements of the eight waltzes for piano are sensitive to the composer?s every nuance. Note that these are not the so-called Prague Waltzes , nor do they include Dvo?ák?s well-known arrangements for strings of the first and fourth op. 54 Waltzes. They may lack the blazing fire of the op. 46 Slavonic Dances , but have more character and color than the op. 59 Legends . If Burghauser?s orchestrations sometimes lean slightly toward Tchaikovsky, so does Dvo?ák?s 1879 Polonaise.


Hr?Îa, a 25-year-old maestro, has been conducting since elementary school. He has already led a dozen Czech and Slovak orchestras, from the Czech Philharmonic on down, has directed a world premiere at the National Theater, Prague?s foremost opera house, teaches in Berlin, conducts in Paris, and has founded a new-music ensemble. He leads relaxed, gracious performances, which succeed because every detail is fully realized: every melody caressed, every harmony sounded, every rhythm caught. I recently commented that you can?t go wrong with any number of recordings of the Czech Suite , but this may be the loveliest of them all.


Supraphon?s 2005 recording in Prague?s Domovina Studio is natural and clear; one imagines this young orchestra sounds exactly as it does on this disc. Burghauser?s orchestral arrangements have been recorded at least once before, by the Prague Symphony under Ji?í B?lohlávek on a 1982 Supraphon disc, but don?t let that keep you from this delicious program.


FANFARE: James H. North

To listen to Moravec is to be reminded of another era, one in which there was no political correctness surrounding Bach and the modern piano. He gives a warm, richly rhetorical reading of the Chromatic Fantasia and Fugue, one that is seemingly without ego and entirely compelling. The Mozart sonata is another highlight: Moravec was of course a supreme interpreter of his music and this reading of K333 is a gem. If I have qualms about the rhythmic freedom of the first movement of the Moonlight, they are offset by a lolloping Allegretto in which Moravec finds such airiness of texture that it never sounds too slow, and a fearlessly impulsive finale. Moravec’s Chopin is always special and even in a piece as familiar as the Op 27 No 2 Nocturne it is rendered fresh by the myriad shadings and colourings combined with an ear for Chopin’s inner lines.

The Op. 15, No 2 Nocturne, so often over-sweetened, here has a meditative quality, and even in the turbulent inner section the piece’s fundamental solemnity is never overshadowed. The Fourth Ballade is another highlight, the pianist repeatedly drawing out lines previously hidden. It’s a spacious view of the piece, Moravec allowing the detail to tell without losing sense of the piece’s architecture. The encores are similiarly captivating, whether in the inner voicings drawn out of the Op 63 No 3 Mazurka or in his enraptured ‘Clair de lune’, rapturously received. A fitting tribute to a great artist.

– Gramophone

Also available: Life with Czech Music - Dvorák, Smetana / Sir Charles Mackerras

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Contains 4 CDs + 1 DVD.

Reviews:

The Cunning Little Vixen, Sinfonietta, Taras Bulba

Charles Mackerras speaks of this set as his last series of Janácek recordings, which is understandable--but let's fervently hope that he hangs around to make many more discs for Supraphon (and other labels). Some of this material has appeared previously in the opera sets: the overtures and interludes to Kát'a Kabanová and Sárka. The rest of the items are new and wonderful. Most interesting for Janácek collectors may be this superb Suite from The Cunning Little Vixen that follows the outline of Talich's arrangement (that is, Act 1 minus the voices) but restores the composer's original orchestration. It's wonderful. Equally wonderful is the performance of Schluck und Jau, certainly its finest on disc, and the same holds true of the Jealousy Overture (a bit messy in the earlier Decca recording).


This performance of the Sinfonietta is thrilling: swifter than the somewhat staid Decca recordings and even more exciting than Mackerras' famous first effort with the Pro Arte Orchestra (now on Testament). He whips up the excitement at such points as the third movement's central climax with uninhibited abandon, and the Czech Philharmonic responds with explosive enthusiasm. The same qualities characterize the second two movements of Taras Bulba; the first is a touch relaxed, not as violent in the battle scene as some others I could name (Ancerl, for example), but it's never slack or self-consciously smooth. The recordings--both live and studio efforts from a variety of venues--sound consistently excellent. Mackerras did more for Janácek than any other conductor living or dead, and it's fitting that he should leave his final thoughts on this music with the Czech Philharmonic and Supraphon. A set not to be missed! [5/4/2004]

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

DVD - Jealousy, Taras Bulba, Glagolitic Mass
If the idea of watching a Mass on DVD doesn't seem all that inspiring, consider that the work in question is Janácek's powerful Glagolitic Mass. The already enthralling music gains a visceral intensity under Charles Mackerras' masterful and potent conducting. The visual element only heightens the drama, as we see the elegance of the beautifully adorned Dvorák Hall--a fitting setting for this ceremonial music. The cameras also capture the individual performers in their most important passages--Eva Urbanová's impassioned solos, Leo Marian Vodicka's fearsome tenor utterances, as well as Peter Mikuláš' stern bass proclamations. There are well-timed shots of the Prague Philharmonic Choir as well, and of course, the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra, which plays brilliantly. Organist Jan Hora, who gives a virtuoso performance of this all-important part, unfortunately is out of view (we see instead the pipes of his massive instrument). Mackerras, who uses Janácek's restored original score with its more colorful orchestration and raucous percussion parts, conducts vibrantly, with swift tempos making for a rousing occasion.


The Czech Philharmonic is the star of Jealousy (the original prelude to Jenufa) and Taras Bulba, and again it plays marvelously with virtuoso contributions from all sections. Now the camera pinpoints the many instrumental solos as well as individual orchestral sections in critical passages, indicating the video director's familiarity with the score. Mackerras' interpretations have been documented previously on audio-only recordings, perhaps most sumptuously with the Vienna Philharmonic on Decca. The sound on this video version is not so resplendent (it's not something you'd play with the TV off), but it suits the medium well, and it's quite fascinating to see the greatest living Janácek conductor at work. This is one DVD you'll watch many times. [9/13/2005]

– Victor Carr Jr, ClassicsToday.com

Double Concerto, Les fresques
The Double Concerto and Les fresques are among Martinu's most satisfying works: behind the cosmopolitan, 'conservative-modern' lingua franca of their language both have a genuine individuality of Utterance, and both have an expressive urgency that repeated hearing intensifies. In the case of the Double Concerto the emotional burden is a brooding disquiet and a stoicism that eloquently reflect the time in which the work was written (1938: it was completed on the very day that the Allies agreed to Germany's annexation of the Sudetenland). In Les fresques there is a rapt, at times ecstatic luminosity, a mystic serenity, even, that is a strikingly apt metaphor for Piero's numinous brightness.

Not surprisingly, both pieces have been quite often recorded, but neither of them is at all easy to conduct or to balance. The proliferation of string lines in the Double Concerto can easily sound confused, and there is the problem of where in the sound picture the pianist should be placed: as a soloist, as continuo-player or as provider of edge and attack to the bass-line (the instrument appears in all three roles). The colours of Les fresques are still more easily dulled, shot and hatched as they so often are by solo instruments: the work demands a difficult combination of transparency and richness. Mackerras and his engineers succeed, so it seems to me, quite admirably in both cases. The tension of the Double Concerto's outer movements is finely sustained, there is great weight and intensity to the fuller pages, but enough power is kept in hand (the wide range of the recording plays a part in this) for the conclusion to be formidably powerful, and the excellent pianist seems always to be in the right perspective.

Les fresques are still finer, if anything: the solo lines characterfully expressive, the brighter colours resplendent, but the eloquent purity that is at the music's centre never obscured. [7/1985]

– Gramophone

When Franz xaver Richter became member of the famous Mannheim Orchestra in 1746, he found himself in the very centre of the progressive European music scene where a new era was being born in a proverbial melting pot of various influences. However, Richter never gave up his traditional baroque ''craftsmanship'' and after making himself acquainted with the most successful oratorio libretto by G.C. Pasquini, he set it to music entirely within the boundaries of his characteristic style, combining baroque composition principles with the achievements of the nascent classicist style. For this he used the new 1744 version of the lbiretto intended fo J.A. Hasse. La Deposizione, Richter's only Italian oratorio is a Good Friday pondering of Jesus's disciples over God's unconditional love and Christ's suffering on the cross. For the first time it was performed on the Good Friday of 1748 in the Mannheim court church of The Visitation of Our Lady. After the Strassbourg Requiem, this premiere recording is another gemstone that the Czech Ensemble Baroque have added to the mosaic of Richter's remarkable, still little-researched oeuvre.

Faith in God was for Dvorák the cornerstone on which he built his own life and work, hence it comes as no surprise that a number of his seminal pieces are within the domain of sacred music, and frequently linked with a strong personal story.

The first version of the oratorio Stabat Mater came into being after the death of his first-born daughter. In the wake of the triumph of its London premiere, Dvorák received more commissions from the UK, which gave rise to other paramount compositions: The Spectre's Bride, Requiem and Saint Ludmila.

The instigation for Te Deum came from New York, where following the premiere of the New World Symphony Dvorák wrote the Biblical Songs, the apex of his oeuvre of this genre. The set also contains pieces that have been seldom performed (the cantata The Heirs of the White Mountain, Psalm 149 in the previously unreleased recording made by the conductor Václav Neumann.).

At the same time, this 8-disc collection within the Dvorák series, featuring gems from the Supraphon archive, showcases superlative artists and performances in sensitively re-mastered sound.