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

“Some pianists seem to have been born to play Beethoven. Mari Kodama has the tools, as well as the inclination, needed to interpret this composer: a well-centered, beautiful tone, a love of the full range of keyboard colors, and a sensitivity to distinctions in rhythm both great and subtle." -- Audiophile Audition

Also available on Blu-ray

Recorded live at the Filharmonia Narodowa, Warsaw, 26-27 February 2010.

Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: PCM Stereo / Dolby Digital 5.1 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Running time: 97 mins
No. of DVDs: 1 (DVD 9)

R E V I E W:



CHOPIN Piano Concertos: No. 1 in e 1; No. 2 in f. 2 Mazurka in a, op. 17/4. 1 Etude in c, op. 10/12. 2 Waltz in e, op. posth. 2 • 1 Nikolai Demidenko, 2 Evgeny Kissin (pn); Antoni Wit, cond; Warsaw PO • ACCENTUS 20104 (DVD: 96:54) Live: Warsaw 2/27/2010

I would hate to have been a music critic for a newspaper sitting in the audience at this concert. Newspaper reviewers are allowed only one chance to hear the music and then get their story straight. I’ve watched this video four times, and just am beginning to appreciate what went on at the concert. In sum, it is a tale of two pianists, Nikolai Demidenko and Evgeny Kissin. The former receives a notable reception from the audience, while the latter elicits a roaring standing ovation and rhythmic applause. The two even are a contrast in their appearance: Demidenko with his grey beard and bald spot, the leonine Kissin every inch the romantic idol. Yet, on repeated listening, I find myself drawn at least as much to Demidenko’s performance as to Kissin’s. This video is a superb example of how completely differently one can approach Chopin, with equally satisfying results.

The First Concerto opens with refined playing in the orchestral tutti. Antoni Wit and his Warsaw forces only recently recorded both concertos with Eldar Nebolsin. Demidenko begins introspectively, with a lovely sonority. His romantic hero, as portrayed in the music, is a poet rather than an adventurer. The third subject is full of yearning and pathos. Elegance and passion characterize the subsequent filigree work. The return of the first theme sounds ruminative. When the second subject comes back, it is wistful and tentative. Throughout this movement, the Warsaw first chairs play beautifully, particularly the flute, bassoon, and horn.

Demidenko opens the second movement with a gorgeous, singing bel canto line. It is a love song with plenty of heart. Unlike in the first movement, the piano part now has a slightly naive quality. The solo bassoon plays wonderfully. Here and in the finale, Demidenko handles transitions magically. He performs the last movement very much in the style galant . His playing now is rhythmically subtle; he doesn’t attempt to be a powerhouse. The B section sounds like a mazurka. Demidenko’s left hand produces deftly judged harmonies. His soft playing is superbly virtuosic. As an encore, Demidenko plays a mazurka raptly and ravishingly, almost as a commentary on all that has gone before it.

Kissin first came to prominence in a concert of both Chopin concertos at age 12, conducted by Dmitri Kitaenko. At present, he plays the Second Concerto in the grand manner. His fingers are fascinating to watch, reminding me of tentacles. Kissin treats the first movement rhapsodically, rather freely in tempo. His soft passages are especially luminous. The program annotator for the DVD suggests that Kissin’s tactile connection to the keyboard is almost erotic. I prefer to say that Kissin’s performance possesses an animal quality. In the second movement, Kissin produces lush sonorities with almost heartbreaking phrasing. His playing in the string tremolo section seems tragic, evoking the pain of the lover. Following this outburst, the return of the initial theme sounds subdued. Kissin’s finale is a romp, with plenty of fire. Differences in dynamics are finely judged. The audience erupts on the orchestra’s final chord. For his first encore, Kissin gives us a stunning version of the last of the op. 10 etudes, with an almost supernatural left hand. It perhaps exemplifies the two pianists here that this encore is so virtuosic, while Demidenko’s is reflective. Kissin’s next encore is a somewhat Mendelssohnian treatment of a waltz, like fairy music. Kissin shows an endearingly light touch here.

The sound engineering on the DVD is very good, clear and full if a little monochromatic. Surround sound was unavailable to me. Occasionally the picture is out of sync with the music for a second or two. The director of the video does a satisfying job; nothing essential is overlooked in the camerawork. If you are looking for a CD of both concertos, I would recommend those by Annerose Schmidt, Janne Mertanen, and Janina Fialkowska. For an opportunity to experience two marvelous players in concert, this DVD probably will have great staying power. It is a true privilege to witness Demidenko and Kissin’s artistry up close.

FANFARE: Dave Saemann

Garrick Ohlsson won the 1970 Chopin International Piano Competition just four years prior the solo recital performances of Chopin and Liszt featured on this DVD. Ohlsson recorded the Chopin Piano Concerto No. 2 with the BBC Symphony Orchestra under James Loughran at Royal Albert Hall in 1978. Since these youthful concerts Garrick Ohlsson has also recorded the complete works of Chopin to global acclaim and is widely regarded as one of the world’s leading exponents of Chopin.

Sound format: LCPM mono
Picture format: 4:3
Running time: 78’
Subtitles: n/a
Menu languages: English
Booklet languages: E/F/G
Region code: All Regions - 0

When I last saw Garrick Ohlsson live in concert in 2007, I was mightily impressed by the delicacy and contrast the ursine pianist brought to his performance of Rachmaninov’s third piano concerto. This DVD unearths performances given by a much younger Ohlsson some thirty years earlier, when he was less a bear and more a lion of the keyboard, complete with 1970s mane.

The main feature on this DVD is a BBC Proms performance of the Brahms Second Piano Concerto under the baton of that great Scottish Brahmsian, James Loughran, whose famous Halle recordings of the symphonies, last seen on Classics for Pleasure, have sadly been deleted from the catalogue.

Ohlsson, wearing a white coat like the leader of the orchestra and no one else on stage, strides out with Loughran to warm Proms applause. We are quickly underway. The first movement is nicely paced, flowing and big. Indeed “big” is the right word for this performance. Loughran knows what he is doing with this music. He draws a well blended, robust sound from the orchestra, right from the opening horn call. Ohlsson shares his dramatic conception of the concerto, moving from gentle rhapsodic playing to roaring climaxes with the ebb and flow of the musical narrative. The uncredited principal cellist brings grace and charm to the andante, which Ohlsson matches and exceeds, and the finale is smile-coaxingly playful, but never lightweight. The highlight of this performance is the second movement. Ohlsson is at his rhapsodic best here. There are occasional wrong notes and horn wobbles, but they matter little when the performance is as exciting as this one.

The 1974 recital is fabulously 70s, from the font that flashes onto the screen to announce the recital in time to the opening chords of the Scherzo to the wavy beige studio backdrop. Ohlsson’s Chopin is superb. The Scherzo sparks with nervous energy and, under Ohlsson’s fingers, rings more with tragedy than mere melancholy. The Polonaise that follows is big and appealingly playful, like Hans Sachs merrily mending shoes with a large hammer. Funérailles is dark and menacing, seemingly powered by Ohlsson’s relentless left hand. The size of Ohlsson’s mitts is astonishing. If ever hands were built for the piano, his were.

The booklet note by Jeremy Siepmann lionises Ohlsson and says little of the music or the circumstances of its performance.

The mono sound, clear but constricted, prevents a general recommendation when so much of Ohlsson’s fine playing is available on disc in stereo. However Ohlsson’s fans and those who would see the young lion in his pomp need not hesitate.

-- Tim Perry, MusicWeb International

BEETHOVEN Piano Sonatas , op. 10/1–3 • Mari Kodama (pn) • PENTATONE 5186 377 (SACD: 59:20)


This is the latest installment of a cycle-in-progress (though new to me) by Mari Kodama, a Japanese student of Nikolayeva and Brendel. Her playing is impressive in its refinement and control, if occasionally a little predictable. The three op. 10s make for a satisfying program, though they’re curiously presented in reverse order here (Beethoven’s own is more logical, with the biggest, most ambitious work placed last).


No. 1 in C Minor goes well, with few surprises. Kodama generally lets the outer movements speak for themselves—straight, incisive, dramatic, forceful, with effective lyrical contrasts. Tension is well maintained, with a convincing sense of real performance (vs. a recording-studio run-through). The Adagio is straightforward, perhaps to a fault—here I miss the imaginative flexibility and expressive depths others bring to the music (e.g., Schiff/ECM, Lewis/Harmonia Mundi, or the recently reviewed Ohlsson/Bridge and Ehlen/Azica). The recorded sound of her Steinway is rich, resonant, and close, but a little “plummy” for my taste, with a pronounced resonant overhang. Her playing is certainly not over-pedaled, but a real staccato articulation is in short supply.


This is a bigger drawback in the first movement of No. 2 in F where, for all the poise and polish, Beethoven’s numerous injunctions to very short articulations (e.g., at the beginning, bars 38 ff., and 47 ff.) are rarely effectively realized. The development has a slightly stolid feel (the second repeat is observed). The F-Minor Allegretto is taken slowly, to rather dour effect, with (for my taste) an insufficient variety of texture and attack; the Presto finale is kept well under control at a moderate tempo. In the last resort, I find this all a little too uneventful.


The big D Major receives the most consistently satisfying performance of the three. The opening Presto is richly varied, supple and sinuous, with an exciting surging momentum. The Largo e mesto is all dark, glinting marble, and in this instance the finale finds her relishing the music’s wide-ranging phrase and textural discontinuities.


So, a slightly mixed bag. But there’s much playing of real distinction here, and anyone wanting a high-quality version of the three op. 10s in state-of-the-art sound won’t go wrong. For the general collector, perhaps not a first choice (see alternatives mentioned above), but I’ll be keeping this in my collection, and can see returning to the first and third sonatas.


FANFARE: Boyd Pomeroy


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

SCHUBERT String Quartet No. 15. BEETHOVEN String No. 16 • New Orford Str Qrt • BRIDGE 9363 (74:47)



This would be an impressive release for any seasoned ensemble; all the more so then that it marks the New Orford String Quartet’s debut album. An ensemble entering into the fray of such highly competitive arenas as Schubert’s and Beethoven’s quartets often raises the question critics invariably ask, “Do these performances offer new insights or have something special to say?” To that I can answer with a most emphatic yes.


“Unstable” is a key word in describing Schubert’s G-Major Quartet—harmonically unstable in its vacillation between major and minor and its undermining of tonality; rhythmically unstable in its strange leaping figures and shuddering tremolos; and most of all, emotionally unstable in its dizzying mood swings, evidence of a mind in the grip of a serious mental disorder. Much of Schubert’s private life and personal affairs has been revealed in recent years, but in many ways the boy-man remains an enigma.


Save for a fragment of a string quartet in F Major that appears in the Schubert catalog as D 998, the G-Major Quartet is the end of the line for the composer’s string quartets, though it would not be his last great chamber work for strings. That would be the String Quintet in C Major, which came two years later, in 1828, not long before his death. In a number of ways, this G-Major work, the last of Schubert’s completed quartets, picks up where its immediate predecessor, the “Death and the Maiden” Quartet of 1824, left off. I’m reminded of what Mahler is reputed to have said in reply to someone who had asked him why the funeral march in his First Symphony was so much different from the funeral march in Beethoven’s “Eroica” Symphony. “Ah,” replied Mahler, “Beethoven describes the mourner; I depict the corpse.” Gruesome as the medical examiner’s lab imagery may be, Schubert’s G-Major Quartet strikes me as the Maiden on the autopsy table.


I don’t wish to go down the road of this analogy too far by saying that the New Orford Quartet’s performance resembles an autopsy on the deceased, but the ensemble’s reading does have a laser-sharp focus to it that lays bare every strand and fiber of the piece. The players take their time and exercise meticulous care, as well as respect, in cutting through and folding back the many layers of tissue. Oftentimes, performances of this work can have a frantic edge to them; I’m thinking, for example, of the recording by the Hagen Quartet. But tension built more slowly over longer arches can turn the emotional screws even tighter than sudden explosive outbursts. The New Orford’s reading of Schubert’s G-Major Quartet is an exemplary study in how to put the most elegant and refined playing to the purpose of delivering the most upsetting news—tragedy without the hysterics.


It’s obvious from the above interview that cellist Brian Manker and I don’t see completely eye-to-eye (or, should I say, don’t hear completely ear-to-ear?) on Beethoven’s final complete quartet, the F Major, op. 135. His speculation about the connection between the es in the Muss es sein introduction to the last movement and Es in German being the designation for E?, which could be an internal musical joke referring back to an event in the first movement, is certainly interesting and worth entertaining. But there is another joke, less abstruse, that has been connected to the Muss es sein incipit, and that is a scribbled note in which Beethoven is allegedly complaining about his housekeeper insisting on putting too much starch in his shirts: “Must it be? It must be.” This, in combination with the actual musical content of the movement, has always led me to hear the whole thing as a fairly lighthearted, even silly, romp. I think we would agree, however, that the Lento assai movement is one of Beethoven’s profoundest utterances.


The New Orford’s tempo at the outset of the quartet is a bit slower than I’m accustomed to hearing it. But it’s not one of the works Beethoven provided metronome markings for—only his quartets through op. 95 contain his own markings—and the first movement is marked Allegretto, so the New Orford’s reading may be entirely justified. But something else emerges at this slightly slower tempo that I find interesting and quite delightful, and that is a sly, slightly underplayed, tongue-in-cheek humor that tickles the funny bone in a different, perhaps more sophisticated way than other, more slapstick approaches.


Take, for example, the hiccups in the cello part that come shortly into the development section following the double bar and change of key signature to one sharp. Not a few cellists take these for rude, sophomoric belches, which, admittedly, is funny, especially if you’re into high school hijinks. But Manker sees these more as little burps that slip out embarrassedly in polite company, making them all the funnier for their lack of social propriety and grace. It puts me in mind of the long-circulated tale, 1601 , attributed to Mark Twain, in which he is privy to a conversation among Francis Bacon, Sir Walter Raleigh, Ben Johnson, and 16-year-old Francis Beaumonte engaged in sniffing out who broke wind in company of the Queen. If memory serves, I think the culprit turns out to be the Queen herself. Twain, of course (whether he was the author of this particular farce or not) can always be counted on to entertain and edify and, so too, I think, can the playing of the New Orford Quartet.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

"The young Israeli clarinetist Sharon Kam has now contributed her own interpretation [of Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto, on CD] to the heap of other recordings on the market, and her entry is a formidable one. Kam's generous lines, gracious phrasing and purity of timbre in the Adagio make this second movement a tender lullaby worth the price of the disc alone." - Time Out New York

"With Ms. Kam the Clarinet Concerto sings. From the rhapsodic tranquility of the first movement through the sweet, wistful, melancholic flow of the second movement to the energetic playfulness of the finale, Ms. Kam and the Haydn Philharmonic are in complete accord with the material, producing a warm, elegant, refined, and moving interpretation. This performance is in every way the equal of several other notable recordings, like the classic one from Jack Brymer (EMI) or more-recent ones on basset clarinet from Richard Hosford (ASV), Thea King (Hyperion), and Michael Collins (DG). Yes, Ms. Kam more than holds her own."

- John J. Puccio, Classical Vandor

"Sharon Kam and her collaborators take the fast movements at a sprightly clip, which gives them added spunk, of course, but also added contrast to the tenderly expressive slow movements, which are played with utmost beauty and sensitivity. Kam, whose earlier recordings of Classical and Romantic works include prize winners, plays with a beauty of tone that would be the envy of most clarinetists. She also directs the Österreichisch-Ungarische Haydn Philharmonie, known in English-speaking countries as the Austro-Hungarian Haydn Orchestra, famous for its complete series of Haydn Symphonies in UHJ Ambisonic on Nimbus. Predictably, the orchestra does the same kind of justice to Mozart, producing a sweet yet full, rich sound that’s the perfect ground for the richer tones of the basset clarinet. Kam’s partners in the Quintet are all solo-quality musicians who also specialize in chamber music, so you hear as much beautiful tone production from them as from the clarinetist...The Berlin Classics engineers provide a nigh-ideal listening experience: the sound is warm, intimate, perfectly balanced. This recording is a winner on all scores."

— Lee Passarella, Audiophile Audition

"Benny Goodman made this coupling famous on record – and he didn’t play the basset, as Sharon Kam does. The Haydn Philharmonie sound a bit period-abrasive, but the clarinet tone is deliciously liquid in the concerti and tenderly intimate in the quintet. As pleasing as any account I have heard in years."

- Norman Lebrecht, La Scena Musicale