Import Hybrid-SACD pressing.

Classical Music

This is one of the "new" Lyritas, in the sense that the recordings on this CD have never been issued before, even though they were made thirteen years ago. Though it’s a matter for regret that the recordings have lain in the vaults for so long it’s cause for unqualified rejoicing that such a delightful collection, all in sparkling performances, should now be available.

David Pyatt is an outstanding young British musician. I recall his victory in the BBC Young Musician of the year competition in 1988. At that time he was aged only 14 – he’d only taken up the horn six years earlier, I believe. He has since gone on to build a highly successful solo career, combining that with the post of Principal Horn in the London Philharmonic Orchestra, an assignment that he took up in the 1998/9 season.

All the works included here, with the exception of Ruth Gipps’s concerto were closely associated with the great Dennis Brain. I’m sure he played all of them superbly – he gave the premières of the Jacob, Arnold and Bowen works - but it’s hard to imagine stronger advocacy than all the pieces receive from David Pyatt. He’s recorded relatively closely, though not aggressively so, and not in such a way as to eclipse the consistently interesting orchestral parts. The closeness of the balance allows us to appreciate to the full his rich, round, golden tone as well as his seemingly effortless technique. This is, in short a superb demonstration of horn playing. There are other links within the programme too, besides the "Brain factor". For example, both Malcolm Arnold and Ruth Gipps were pupils of Gordon Jacob and the first broadcast performance of the Gipps concerto was given, in 1982, by Frank Lloyd, David Pyatt’s own teacher.

The concerto by Ruth Gipps seems to me to be the most serious of the pieces on this disc – not that any of them is exactly frivolous. She wrote it for her son, who gave the first performance. The first movement offers the soloist frequent opportunities for virtuosity but it’s predominantly a thoughtful movement. Unusually the middle movement is not slow in tempo; instead it’s a scherzo, featuring what Lewis Foreman memorably describes as a "thistledown tune". There’s a vivacious start to the finale but before long we reach a more lyrical and pensive section and this music alternates thereafter with livelier episodes. The accompaniment to this concerto features the fullest orchestration of the four and the scoring is consistently resourceful and interesting. Nowhere is this more apparent that in the short passage in the finale that Lewis Foreman highlights in his notes. Here, beginning at 4:30, the soloist duets with the celesta in a most imaginative and unusual piece of scoring. Like its companions on the disc this concerto cries out to be heard more often and David Pyatt is a splendid advocate for it.

He’s no less admirable in the splendid concerto by York Bowen, himself a horn player. The more I hear of Bowen’s music the more I like it and the more I marvel at its neglect. This is an inventive and tremendously enjoyable work in which a short, reflective slow movement catches the listener’s attention. The finale is cast mainly in a lively frame of mind but the romantic in York Bowen can’t resist pausing along the way for a lovely middle section in a slower tempo – and thank goodness for it.

Malcolm Arnold’s concerto is probably the best known of these concertos. Another work inspired by Dennis Brain, he gave its first performance at the Cheltenham Festival in July 1957, just a matter of weeks before his tragic and untimely death. Arnold, himself an orchestral trumpeter and therefore well versed in brass instruments, appears to write with complete understanding not just of the solo instrument but of the personality for whom he had written the work. The main material of the central slow movement is a nostalgic slow waltz that David Pyatt clearly relishes and which offers a few moments of relative repose before the headlong virtuosity of the finale.

The Gordon Jacob concerto is a delight from start to finish. The first movement frequently has the strings playing in motor rhythms but over the top of this material the soloist has interesting and lively music. There’s a substantial and lovely lyrical core to this movement and a demanding cadenza (from 7:20). The slow movement is a wonderfully atmospheric nocturne, which is imbued with a fine sense of lyrical repose. Pyatt is most eloquent here. Most of the time the finale dances along giving the soloist ample opportunity for display but there are some disarming lyrical stretches too.

This generously filled disc concludes with an encore in the shape of Hunter’s Moon. by Gilbert Vinter. This wasn’t written for Dennis Brain but he took it up towards the end of his life as something of a party piece. I hadn’t encountered it before and I found it most engaging. The outer sections, which contain a bouncy little march, frame a gorgeous cantabile central section. The whole piece breathes the atmosphere of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

I enjoyed the Vinter piece, but then I enjoyed the whole disc immensely. The music is of high quality and the standard of performance is consistently superb. In this last comment I include not just the marvellous solo playing of David Pyatt but also the fine support given to him by Nicholas Braithwaite and the LPO. The recorded sound is first rate and Lewis Foreman’s authoritative and enthusiastic notes are a model of their kind. For sheer listening pleasure this is one of the best discs to have come my way for a long time.

-- John Quinn, MusicWeb International

Sobriety of presentation – it takes confidence to make this choice in a world of attention-grabbing design coups. Lyrita’s assertive but understated style goes with competence and a well placed confidence that they have something substantial to offer which does not require lurid colours or wild experimentation. In that sense Lyrita can be compared with Matt Walters’ First Edition - a most treasurable label. The rather matte effect of the covers here is consistent with the design of the Lyrita LP sleeves. In fact a number of the new CDs have used the LP designs or details from them e.g. Hadley/Finzi and Ireland volume 1.

This generous Rawsthorne disc is packed tight with three major works and the most famous of his concert overtures. I recall Symphonic Studies from the CFP LP which coupled the Lambert recording of the Rawsthorne work with the Goehr recording (now on NMC) of Tippett’s Concerto for Double String Orchestra. Pritchard delivers a most successful performance and he is recorded by the Lyrita team with typical mastery and with a sympathetic ear or microphone leaning towards the horns. It’s a work often in a lather of emotional turmoil but it’s too easy to overlook the more reflective moments such as the Lento (tr. 5). This recording was first issued as a coupling on LP (SRCS 90) with the Rawsthorne Symphony No. 1 a work now on SRCD291 with the other two Rawsthorne symphonies. This version of the Symphonic Studies is a shade more headlong on Lyrita than its comparator on Naxos. The ebullient, brusque, breezy and blowsy Street Corner overture was commissioned in 1944 by ENSA alongside such other joyous overtures as Moeran’s Overture to a Masque. The Rawsthorne was first issued on LP on Lyrita SRCS 95. The First Piano Concerto in its outer movements has the brittle brilliance of Prokofiev. Interesting that the composer builds in echoes of the Symphonic Studies at 3:35 in the first movement. After a chilly middle movement the finale is an out-and-out tarantella ending with a cheeky but perfectly weighted smiling flourish. The middle movement has a chilly character. Once again, this time in the Piano Concerto No. 2, Rawsthorne builds in a reminiscence of the Symphonic Studies – listen to it in the bass at 1:47 onwards and elsewhere. This Second Piano Concerto has a more Brahmsian sense of heroism and tragedy than the First Concerto which although written in the 1930s always sounds to me like a refugee from the 1920s. Rawsthorne’s trademark awkward cuss writing is in full evidence throughout and this is emphasised by Malcolm Binns. These are fine recordings although for even more impressive sound do try the Chandos and Naxos versions.

The booklet notes are drawn from the original LP sleeves and are by Alan Frank, Hugo Cole and John McCabe.

The transfers been accomplished with typical professionalism and care. You will not be disappointed if you know the original vinyls.

A generously packed and brilliant Rawsthorne collection which make a perfect complement to the Lyrita Rawsthorne symphonies. Add a few of the Naxos discs - Cello Concerto and the two Violin Concertos - and you have the makings of a fine Rawsthorne shelf.

-- Rob Barnett, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

Classical Music

MUSIK FUER TUBA AUS DER SCHWEI

Classical Music

Classical Music

To inherit a great fortune. To inherit a great misfortune.' These words, from Nathaniel Hawthorne' notebook, neatly encapsulate the theme of the House of the Seven Gables-that of a family whose fortunes are poisoned by it's past misdeeds.

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

When brand new, this CD’s reputation preceded it: winner of many rave reviews, it has already received the initial WQXR Gramophone American Award. It is dedicated to the memory of the composer’s mother, Birgitta Lieberson-Wolfe (1917–2003), who was known professionally as Vera Zorina, but the disc is being viewed widely as a memorial to mezzo-soprano Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, who passed away in July 2006, at the height—or could it have been only the beginning?—of a great career. No singer since Callas has been so idolized, but her life and her achievements remind me more of Kathleen Ferrier’s. In a moving encomium in The New Yorker (September 25, 2006), Alex Ross makes the cogent point that conventional adjectives simply do not apply to Hunt Lieberson, but that we must fall back on them because there are no words in the language which can do her justice. I, too, fell under her spell on several occasions. She was radiant as Didon in Les Troyens, and then bitterly hurt and angry at being abandoned by Enée, feelings projected throughout the giant Metropolitan Opera House. In Fitzgerald’s novel The Great Gatsby and Harbison’s opera thereof, Myrtle Wilson is hardly more than a convenient plot device, yet Hunt Lieberson brought her to life; such a change could upset the balance of a work but in this case added nuance and depth to a work that needed both. Her singing of Britten’s Phaedra with the New York Philharmonic was so devastating that I had to reconsider everything I thought I knew about the work. The final time I heard her was in her husband’s lyrical, loving Neruda Songs, with Levine and the Boston Symphony; she was beauty itself. These occasions could have been four different singers, if such singers existed.

Peter Lieberson, the son of a composer, has been at least three composers in one: he writes works related to his “long-standing practice of Tibetan Buddhism;” he has written exciting, complex music that mirrors such earlier teachers as Babbitt and Wuorinen; and—under his wife’s influence—has recently written lyrical, expressive vocal music. It is the complex music (call it difficult, if you must) that appeals most strongly to me—viz., a thrilling recent DG disc, 457 606, titled Raising the Gaze. I am too ignorant of Buddhist beliefs and ceremonies to appreciate that side of the composer; although some of his most heart-felt music falls into that category, I have seldom been able to understand its statements or follow its procedures. These categories begin to overlap in the instrumental works on this disc. The Six Realms (1999–2000) mixes complexity with Buddhism. Written for Yo-Yo Ma’s Silk Road Project, its movements reflect “the six realms described in Buddhism . . . a highly detailed portrait of our human consciousness” (the quotations are taken from the composer’s program notes). Yet he also refers to the piece as “my concerto.” Written for solo cello and a large orchestra often sparingly used, its 27 minutes cover a wide range of emotional (presumably religious) and musical expression. After a bumpy start (mine), The Six Realms is now beginning to reveal its depth and power.

The Horn Concerto (1998–1999) is more conventional, as much so as anything I have heard from Lieberson. Lyricism meets complexity, each making room for the other. It consists of two roughly nine-minute movements, the first of which recalls concertos of Schoeck and Hindemith, the second Stravinsky, especially his Symphony in Three Movements. Fine models all, but surprising for Lieberson (who knew Stravinsky as a child). As the piece progresses, the writing for horn becomes more vibrant, more exciting, and no doubt very difficult to play. William Purvis rides it like a champion.

But the pieces de resistance here are the five Rilke Songs (1997–2001), taken from The Sonnets to Orpheus. Lieberson’s straightforward music seems to equate simplicity with truth. Music and performance transport us into Rilke’s world and involve us in his musings; that the vocal line is lyrical and the voice beautiful is almost incidental. While the performances of the two instrumental works are excellent, that of the songs is so ideal as to disappear. Pianist Serkin and the composer have been friends from birth and collaborators for decades; the singer was wife, inspiration, and artistic advisor; the three are one artistic whole. It comes as a shock to hear an eruption of applause; the audience at the Ravinia Festival must have been holding its collective breath for these 18 minutes. So was I.

Every one of Lorraine Hunt Lieberson’s recordings is a treasure. Every Peter Lieberson disc ought to be treasured; Oliver Knussen called his music “the real thing.”

FANFARE: James H. North

Classical Music