Includes work(s) by various composers.

Carl Adolph Schuricht (1880–1967), like many another podium great of the past, has his legions of loyal champions. But going on 40 years after his death, he has yet to achieve the larger-than-life, legendary status of a Furtwängler, Mengelberg, or Toscanini. Why this should be so is a bit of a mystery, for even if he may have lacked some of their charismatic character, his was unquestionably one of the keenest and most insightful of musical intellects.

Born in Danzig (Gdansk, Poland), Schuricht began to learn violin and piano at the age of six. By 11, he had written both the music and librettos to two operas; these accomplishments led to a scholarship that allowed him to study composition under Engelbert Humperdinck, and then Max Reger. His conducting career began in earnest with his appointment to the Wiesbaden Städtische Symphonieorchestra in 1912. A year later, in that post, he conducted, not the first, but certainly one of the early performances of Mahler’s Eighth Symphony. Engagements in London, Berlin, and Vienna would follow, as would guest conductorships in Frankfurt and Dresden. His first visit to the US came as early as 1927. Post WW II, he toured the US more extensively, being invited in 1957 to conduct at the Chicago Symphony Festival at Ravinia and at the Berkshire Music Festival at Tanglewood.

The mainstays of Schuricht’s repertoire were the late-Romantic Austro-German masters—Brahms, Bruckner, Mahler, and Strauss. But he was equally at home in Beethoven, Schubert, Mendelssohn, Schumann, and Tchaikovsky; and he ventured fearlessly into the “moderns” of the day—Bartók, Hindemith, Honegger, Schoenberg, Debussy, Ravel, even Werner Egk and Gottfried von Einem. In fact, what took me rather by surprise in my research for this review was the vastness of Schuricht’s recorded legacy, something one would not be led to expect from the limited subset of recordings available on a number of popular Web sites. But a Web page of available Schuricht recordings I happened upon—http://page.freett.com/Schuricht/SchurichtCD.htm—had been updated only days before I began to write this, and listed some 720 entries. Granted, many are duplications—i.e., the same performances acquired, transferred, and pressed by different labels—but still the list is impressive, not just in numbers but in some unusual and unexpected repertoire. For example, I note another Hänssler offering—I presume in this same series—of a violin concerto by Hermann Goetz, an Archiphon release of Delius’s Sea Drift, and a Melisma CD of a cello concerto by a composer I’ve honestly never heard of, named Flössner. As I perused this list, I also noted that Hänssler Classic appears to have undertaken a major effort on behalf of Schuricht, for at least two dozen of the most recent entries are theirs.

On one point there appears to be general agreement, and that is that Schuricht was a “modern” conductor: his tempos tended towards the quick side, the sound he cultivated was one of transparency, and his interpretations were mindful of the composer’s written score. In this regard, he is seen as belonging less to the world of Furtwängler than to a later generation of conductors who would follow.

The two CDs under consideration bear out this assessment. The Brahms Second Symphony, (the conductor’s last recording with the Stuttgart Süddeutscher Rundfunk, and which, given its late date of 1966 is likely in stereo, though it is not so indicated) does not dawdle. If anything, in fact, I would have preferred a slightly slower pace for the Adagio, which could have benefited from a bit more expansive phrasing and shaping. This is a movement I want to last. Compensation comes, however, from the sound and playing of the orchestra, which is positively aglow with the deep reds, burnt oranges, and buttery golds of autumn foliage in full pride.

The two choral works that fill out this disc, Schicksalslied and Nänie, were recorded a dozen years earlier than the Symphony, yet still sound remarkably good. The sonic image is a bit flatter, but the chorus and orchestra are actually better balanced than they are in a number of modern recordings. Though the literary point of departure for Schicksalslied is secular rather than sacred, (based on Schiller’s poem, Hyperion’s Song of Destiny) it is not that far removed, either in time or in character of style and content, from Brahms’s writing in A German Requiem. Nänie, a much later work dating from 1881, is again a Schiller-based Greek mythology brew, but one that did not seem to inspire Brahms to his best efforts; it has never been one of the composer’s most admired pieces. It was composed as an ode or lament for Anselm Feuerbach, an artist and friend of the composer; but Brahms’s emotional response sounds more manufactured than deeply felt, as if he were forcing himself to go through the motions of mourning. The performance seems not as alert or well rehearsed as that of Schicksalslied. A moment or two of slightly off-the-mark intonation in the chorus is a bit unsettling.

Little needs be said about Ein Deutsches Requiem. It is one of music’s choral monuments, and has remained one of Brahms’s most popular works since it was first presented in 1869 in the final form we know today. Even if Schuricht’s reading in this performance left anything to be desired—which it absolutely does not—many will want this CD for the contributions of Maria Stader and Hermann Prey. If Prey’s delivery of Herr, lehre doch mich doesn’t send a chill up your spine, I can’t imagine anything that will. The surprise, though, is the tempo Schuricht sets for this movement. It is faster than I have ever heard it, further evidence that this was a conductor who took to heart Mahler’s admonition, nicht shleppend. Stader positively soars in her radiant rendition of “Ihr habt nun Traurigkeit.” Yet again, Schuricht’s reading of Brahms’s langsam marking moves right along at a tempo that probably helps Stader rather than hinders her in supporting her long-arching phrases.

These releases are not just important historical documents, they are outstanding performances.

-- Jerry Dubins, FANFARE [reviewing this CD and Hänssler 93143]

This is a re-release of an SWRmusic-Bestseller, containing the concert recording of Bruckner's No.9 from September 20th, 1996 at the Stuttgart Liederhalle, conducted by one of the most prominent conductors of the 20th century, Carlo Maria Giulini. Carlo Maria Giulini was born in Barletta in 1914 and concluded his study of conducting at the Accademia Chigiana in Siena and the Accademia di Santa Cecilia in Rome. He debuted as a conductor in 1944 with the Augusteo Orchestra, and at the same time became Fernando Previtali’s assistant in the orchestra of the RAI in Rome. Giulini gave up conducting in 1998. His life’s work includes a large number of phonograph recordings with, among them, the Vienna Philharmonic, which counted Giulini as its most important conductor for many years. After a long illness, Carlo Maria Liulini died in June 2005, and was laid to rest in the family chapel in Bolzano.

This is a re-release of an SWRmusic-Bestseller. It contains Bruckner‘s most famous symphony heard in an outstanding interpretation. Kurt Sanderling, at that moment already 83 years old, fully demonstrates the experience gained from his long career, at his side an SWR Radio-Sinfonieorchester Stuttgart performing at the highest level. More than just a resident of Berlin, Kurt Sanderling has always been very closely connected with the city. It was here that he began his artistic career as voice coach at the Stadtische Oper at the age of eighteen, when Otto Klemperer, Erich Kleiber, Leo Blech and Wilhelm Furtwangler were conducting. Sanderlings guest tours took him almost everywhere in Eastern and Western Europe, to Japan, and the USA, where he conducted the world’s leading ensembles.

This is a hybrid Super Audio CD playable on both regular and Super Audio CD players.

Paul Hindemith was an all-round musician. He had a near-professional command of most orchestral instruments, which naturally served as an excellent prerequisite for both composing and conducting. His prominence as a composer meant that the best and most famous orchestras were happy to have him as a conductor, which is why he regularly took to the podium with outstanding ensembles. In the studio, he always conducted his own works, recording them for labels such as Deutsche Grammophon, EMI, CBS and Decca. His work as a conductor in the concert hall and his occasional radio studio performances were much more varied, as with the present recording. When we hear Hindemith conducting Bruckner in 1958, we should bear in mind that a grand master is at work, unsurpassed in contrapuntal expertise and musical invention, the product of a vibrant tradition extending from Schütz and Bach to Mozart and Beethoven, and on to Brahms and Reger. Bruckner was a high point on this route from the Baroque to his own contemporary output.

Hector Berlioz remains to this day the arch Romantic composer. His imagination knew no bounds and through his often-extreme visions, he revolutionized the way composers would approach the orchestra in the future. Spooky, wild, tender and utterly without inhibition perfectly describes the "Symphonie fantastique". But even some of his overtures are not for the faint-of-heart, especially when two masterful conductors at the helms of two of Europe's finest orchestras give these colorful scores full rein. Unquestionably, Berlioz at his best! - Hänssler Classic

Not until the subdued applause at the end did it become apparent that this was taken live—the collector will own many studio jobs where the performers provide more noises off than this supernaturally quiet audience. But perhaps because he’s playing to an audience, Norrington’s L’enfance du Christ is Writ Large and taken at a dramatic tack. There’s a propulsive hustle from the opening bars as the nocturnal march becomes a frantic quickstep. Herod’s scene always tempts the operatic, but Mary and Joseph’s numbers, attractively if ringingly interpreted by Oelze and Maltman, might well be from some steamy Massenet thriller. The “Shepherd’s Farewell” skips along like a Wanderlied. One will have heard the Ishmaelites’ flute/harp trio more deftly done—many times. And the final chorus caps the piece with a solemnly oratorio-like massiveness, scanting the sublime aura of mystical reflection. Those things are in the score, and playing L’enfance du Christ in heavy quasi-operatic oils, rather than as a once upon a time pastel, is a matter of emphasis. In comparison with the suave dexterity of Philippe Herreweghe’s vivacious but refined way with it (Harmonia Mundi HMX 901632.33, Fanfare 26:4), one may find this bracingly—emphatic. Sound places soloists and orchestra up-front, with the chorus recessed a bit, all clearly detailed in spaciousness and delivered with gutsy oomph. If you’ve longed to hear its operatic potential mined, this L’enfance du Christ was made for you.

Adrian Corleonis, FANFARE

The present release contains Hector Berlioz's complete concert overtures, including the one written for his early opera Les francs-juges, superbly performed by the SWR Sinfonieorchester Baden-Baden und Freiburg directed by the French conductor Sylvain Cambreling. French composer Hector Berlioz wrote a number of overtures, many of which remain concert staples. They include not only overtures intended to introduce operas, but also independent concert overtures. The album opens with one of the most popular overtures, Waverly, Op. 1. Composed in 1828, it was inspired by Sir Walter Scott’s Waverly novels. Also included are Le Carnaval romain, Op. 9, a standalone overture intended for concert performance made up of material from the opera Benvenuto Cellini, Le Corsaire, Op. 21, and others. This album is part of a new re-release series (Century Classics) consisting of SWR music bestsellers. The series is competitively priced, optically highly attractive and contains acclaimed SWR recordings mostly of the SWR orchestras and their chief conductors.

In 1905, when Wilhelm Backhaus won the distinguished Anton Rubinstein competition in Paris at the age of 21- Bela Bartok came in second!- he thrilled the famous musicians of his day, and, of course, the turn of the century audience, with standard pieces of the highest splendor. Yet he not only impressed with works by Franz Liszt and related virtuoso composers. In 1927, he was the first pianist to record all 24 etudes Opp. 10 and 25 by Frederic Chopin. Still admired today, this documents his superb technique and simultaneously his temperament with its almost ebullient willingness to share. In the present documentation, we have the E flat Major concerto Op. 73 with the Stuttgart Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Joseph Keilberth in palpable accordance with the clear and clarified desires and wishes of the soloist. In respect, this recording is not only a confirmation of Backhaus as an absolute authority for the E flat Major, but also a clarion call in regards to Keilberth.

BACEWICZ Partita. Violin Sonatas: Nos. 3–5; Humoreske. Kolysanka. Witraz. Sonata da camera. Melodia . 2 Oberki. Concertino. Caprice. Theme with Variations. 3 Dances • Piotr Plawner (vn); Ewa Kupiec (pn) • HÄNSSLER 93.117 (2 CDs: 125:24)


Readers who know well this contributor’s predilections would not be surprised were I to describe this as two hours’ worth of fingernails-on-the-chalkboard music. They will therefore be quite surprised to hear me describe the contents of these two discs as never less than interesting and more often than not, engrossing, captivating, and strikingly beautiful. If I , of all people, can say that of a modern composer considered by not a few to be difficult and uncompromising, you can be assured that this is music easily grasped and of genuine expressive appeal.


Gra?yna Bacewicz (1909–1969) was born in ?ód?, Poland. In 1928, she enrolled at the Warsaw Conservatory, where she studied violin, piano, and composition. Following her graduation in 1932, she was granted a stipend by Ignacy Paderewski to continue her studies in Paris at the École Normale de Musique under Nadia Boulanger. She also continued violin studies under Henri Touret and, subsequently, under the famous Hungarian violin pedagogue, Carl Flesch. During the 1930s, Bacewicz served as principal violin of the Polish Radio Orchestra. Following a serious car accident in 1954, she turned her attention exclusively to composition. Not unexpectedly, much of her output consists of chamber works for various combinations of string instruments or, as in the case here, for violin and piano. However, she also wrote a number of concertos, symphonies, orchestral works, choral and vocal pieces, and even an opera. Her catalog of published works is quite respectable, though only a small portion of it has been recorded.


This new offering does not purport to be Bacewicz’s complete œuvre for violin and piano; in fact, the program carries the title, “Sonatas for Violin and Piano,” though as is obvious from the headnote, the pieces do not all fit that description. What really appeals to me about this music is that the instruments are not mistreated or abused; they are not forced to engage in perverted, unnatural acts. The violin is an instrument of melody and song, and that is how Bacewicz writes for it. Begin your listening with track 15 on CD 1, the Sonata da camera . It starts off with a wistful reverie ever so distantly reminiscent of a melodic line by Bach, but one that has been twice filtered, once through Dvo?ák and again through Shostakovich. It’s such a lovely thing that I put my CD player in repeat mode and listened to it over and over again.


By no means is this passage an exception among over two hours’ worth of music. But there is so much more to Bacewicz than an extraordinary ear for the voluptuousness of the violin. These pieces are filled with exhilarating rhythms (take the third movement of the Sonata No. 4), breathless moto perpetuo movements (take the last movement of the Partita), and something of a rarity in much modern music that takes itself so seriously, a real sense of well-being, good-natured playfulness, and humor (take the third movement of the Sonata No. 3, the Humoreske, or the concluding movement of the Concertino, which has about it a puckish character akin to a Mendelssohn scherzo). Then there are the Three Dances that sound like a cross between Grieg, Ole Bull, and Gershwin—delightful.


Bacewicz eschews all that is abrasive, coarse, and ugly. Not for her the scraping and scratching on a collection of modern Polish violin music reviewed in 27:5. Truth be told, none of these pieces—spanning a period from 1932 to 1952—is all that modernistic, considering some of the concurrent goings-on in Western Europe and the US. One could say that Bacewicz’s music is derivative of any number of late Romantic and early 20th-century composers. Nonetheless, that does not detract from its appeal; and for me, it is a plus.


No one could have been more surprised than I was at my extremely positive reaction to this release. If I’ve slighted Bacewicz’s writing for the piano, it wasn’t intentional. It is every bit as natural and idiosyncratic to the instrument as is her writing for the violin. And did I mention just how wonderful these performances are? Pianist Ewa Kupiec was familiar to me from a recording of Shostakovich’s piano quintet with the Petersen Quartet, but I’d not previously encountered violinist Piotr Plawner. He has apparently recorded some Szymanowski and Wieniawski pieces. He plays with a pure, sweet tone of spun silk, but with ample technique and requisite power when the music calls for them.


Hänssler Classic is to be commended for this splendid enterprise. Needlessly said, but I’ll say it anyway—urgently recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Founded 1998, the Bennewitz Quartet, from the Czech Republic, have become one of the classical music world's top international chamber ensembles, a status confirmed not only by prestigious competition victories but also by the acclaim of the critics. Having recently recorded an all-Dvor�k program on two CDs (Cypresses) for hanssler in 2012, the ensemble returns to the music of this Bohemian/American master with two quartets for strings, both of which are important milestones in the composer's �uvre: No. 10 in E-flat Major, op. 51, and No. 13 in G Major, op. 106.

LISZT Piano Sonata. Hungarian Rhapsody No. 13. Valse oubliée No. 1. 6 Paganini Etudes. Au lac de Wallenstadt. Il penseroso • André Watts (pn) • HÄNSSLER CD 93.718 (77:08) Live: Schwetzingen 5/25/1986

This is a live concert, but the sound is on par with just about any studio recording, and there is no applause, or any other distraction, from the audience. Liszt has figured prominently in André Watts’s repertory, both on disc and in concert, and there is nothing in this recital that you won’t find on one of the two Liszt CDs that he recorded for EMI not long before. There are the expected benefits and hazards. Watts has an occasional moment of slightly (very slightly!) less than flawless fingerwork—which is not something one would expect on a disc recorded in a studio, of course. On the other hand, Watts is more spontaneous here than on the EMI discs, which present his pianism purring and powerful like the engine of a racing car. There is purring and power here too, but also a touch of the unexpected, and that makes this new release worth exploring, especially if you don’t want to invest in the pair of EMI releases. (They were reissued at a bargain price in the label’s Double Fforte series, but that two-CD set is no longer in print.)

I think it’s been a while since Watts released a new CD, and it is good to be reminded what a terrific pianist he was … and I hope still is. (He is still a few years from his 70th birthday, and holds a faculty position at Indiana University in Bloomington.) His Liszt Totentanz is one of the most electrifying piano recordings ever made, and it reveals him—as does the present release—as having supreme digital dexterity and a flair for old-school virtuosity. At the same time, he never has been an effect-mongering showoff, and the performances on this CD confirm that intelligence and good taste are part of his skill set as well. I’ve heard more cohesive readings of the Sonata in B Minor, it’s true, but the music certainly does not fall apart, and Watts always keeps the big picture in focus. Some might be surprised by his strong flair for the Magyar elements in the Hungarian Rhapsody; they should remember that Watts’s mother was Hungarian.

If you don’t have any of Watts’s Liszt, I’d recommend this highly. If you do, I’d still recommend it, although I don’t think it eclipses the studio recordings.

FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle

Bohuslav Martinu’s six symphonies were composed between 1942 and 1953 during the composer’s years in America. He completed the first five symphonies at the astonishing rate of one per year, although not at any artistic expense – years later, he described the Fifth Symphony as a ‘well organized, organic, well ordered work’ in an interview with The New York Times. A full seven years elapsed, however, before Martinu completed his Sixth. One of his ‘unexpected’ works, it took, quite unusually for him, two years to complete, and its form proved to be a radical change from his previous symphonies. As he wrote to his friend Šafránek – ‘I am about to create fantasias!’

In November 2021 Sir Roger Norrington announced his retirement from conducting. From 1998 to 2011 he was chief conductor of the former Stuttgart Radio Symphony Orchestra (today the SWR Symphonieorchester), and during that time caused an international stir with what came to be known as the ‘Stuttgart Sound’ – a synthesis of historically-informed performance practice with the technical capabilities of a modern orchestra. Whether Mozart, Haydn, Bruckner, Brahms or Martinu, Norrington sought to recreate a faithful performance experience, adjusting the orchestra’s size and seating plan, and creating an authentic sound without vibrato.

Among the great conductors of the second half of the 20th century Sergiu Celibidache is without a doubt the most unusual personality. Even his fierce opponents hardly deny that he was exceptionally gifted as a musician and conductor – a gift he had consciously developed to absolute perfection. However, opinions differ where his creative activity during his late Munich years (1979–96) and his person in general are concerned, though negative judgements are often based on incorrect or insufficient information. Anyone who takes an interest in this conductor will quite soon come across an abstruse film document in which a musician talks about her demotion by Celibidache: Within her group she was downgraded from the contractually agreed first position to the second position in concerts Celibidache conducted (her salary remaining the same). Unfortunately, the whole story is never reported coherently. After intrigues on the part of the orchestra she did not follow the advice to discuss face to face with Celibidache the situation that had meanwhile escalated, but risked an angry outburst in the canteen in front of everyone, resulting in the situation escalating even more. Finding a viable solution to the conflict would have required all parties “to overcome their inhibitions”. This did not happen and all that remained were bitterness and incomprehension.