Exceptionally elegant performances from a first rate band of musicians.

Although it is for his instrumental music, primarily symphonies, string quartets and works for solo piano that Josef Haydn is most known, he was quite given to writing for voices and left behind a sizeable output of operas, twelve authenticated masses and numerous other settings of sacred texts for choir, soloists and orchestra. This program gives us his first and last words in the mass genre, one by an exuberant boy of seventeen the other by a tired and weary old man, although one could never discern the composer’s fatigue by listening to the music.

The Missa Brevis in F is a little gem of economy, with Haydn sailing through the wordy Credo in under three minutes, a feat he accomplished by stacking phrases of the text on top of one another and distributing them throughout the voice parts. The unusual scoring for only two solo voices, both sopranos might have been a vehicle for he and his brother Michael, though it does stretch belief a bit to think of a seventeen year old with an unchanged voice.

The Harmoniemesse is one of Haydn’s final works, written for the birthday celebrations of the Esterhazy Princess in 1802. The composer soon took his leave of the Esterhazy family after decades of service and although he lived another seven years, he did little composing after this period. There is no evidence in this joyful and exuberant mass that Haydn was at all ill. In fact, his later masses have been criticized over the years for their joyous optimism, and sometimes overly upbeat settings of the more reflective and serious parts of the texts. Be that as it may, this is a masterpiece, beautifully augmented by the full complement of wind instruments that give the mass its nickname of “harmonie.”

These are performances of divinely understated elegance. Singing from the choir is dead in tune and beautifully balanced. Phrases are splendidly shaped and tempo choices are spot on. The Trinity Choir is full of fine soloists, and there is some magnificent singing from sopranos Ann Hoyt and Julie Liston is the Missa Brevis. The Rebel Baroque Orchestra is a tight band of precision players. The clarity of their playing, especially in fast passages is without flaw. The one and only defect in this production is the lack of texts and translations in the booklet. The program notes are informative and interesting and not loaded with blow by blow descriptions of the music.

These are performances of almost text-book perfection and will be a delight to any lover of choral music. With really nothing to criticize, I can say nothing more but go add this fine recording to your library.

-- Kevin Sutton, MusicWeb International

This is an audio-only (i.e., with no video content) Blu-ray disc playable only on Blu-ray players.

In these recordings from Joseph Meyerhoff Symphony Hall in Baltimore, Dvo?ák’s most darkly dramatic and passionate symphony, the Seventh, is coupled with his Eighth, notable for its dramatic contrasts, Bohemian lyricism, and a seemingly spontaneous flow of thematic ideas. ‘Alsop’s Baltimore orchestra parades a refined tonal profile that pays its own special dividends…Alsop should please both the eager newcomer…and the seasoned collector. There’ll be no disappointment on either score.’ (Gramophone) ‘This splendidly recorded performance [Symphony No. 7] stands very high among available readings.’ (BBC Music Magazine)

Sound format: PCM Stereo / DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1

By all accounts Wilhelm Friedemann Bach was the greatest organist of his time in Germany. The music critic Christian Friedrich Daniel Schubart stated: "Undoubtedly the greatest organist of the world! He is a son of the world-famous Sebastian Bach and has reached - if not surpassed - his father's virtuosity." He then goes on to describe his features: "a fiery genius, a creative imagination, originality and inventiveness, a stormy quickness, and the magical power to enchant every heart with his play on the organ". Bach's oeuvre for the organ bears witness to that description, and it is a great shame that so little of his art has come down to us.

The CPO disc promises us "the complete organ works" by Wilhelm Friedemann Bach. This has to be taken with a grain of salt. To begin with, it is not easy to make a clear distinction between pieces for any keyboard and compositions specifically intended for the organ. Obviously pieces for two manuals and pedal can only be played at the organ. Those include the seven chorale preludes and the two Fugues in F and g minor respectively which Friedhelm Flamme included in his recording. Inexplicably he did not include the Fugue in F (F 36 / A 91) which Julia Brown has recorded. On the other hand Flamme plays several pieces which don't require a pedal; these include the Fantasias in d minor and c minor which open and respectively close, his programme. Also no pedal is required in the Eight Fugues (F 31 / A 81-88), but here Friedemann has specifically indicated that they can be played either at the "Clavier" (any keyboard without pedals) or the organ.

Although these two discs contain duplications, they also complement each other in that both offer pieces which don't appear on the other disc. The two Fantasias I have just mentioned are absent from Julia Brown's disc - she played them at the harpsichord on Naxos 8.570530 - whereas she included various fugues which are not in the two catalogues of Wilhelm Friedemann Bach's oeuvre. The reason is that they are not considered authentic. It is rather odd that this is not mentioned in the liner-notes. Authentic or not, it is nice to have them available, even though they have been recorded before - for instance by Leo van Doeselaar on Etcetera KTC 2503, 1984.

One can understand that they are considered doubtful, as some are very baroque in style and not very different from Johann Sebastian's fugues. The Fugue in B flat (track 16) is a good example. But that in itself doesn't tell against their authenticity. Listening to the chorale preludes one will notice their rooting in a past even before J.S. The cantus firmus is virtually unornamented, and Friedemann makes use of so-called Vorimitation in which the chorale melody is anticipated in the other voices. It was not only used by Sebastian but is also a feature of the chorale preludes by Johann Pachelbel (1653-1706). Other fugues begin in a rather old-fashioned manner but then turn towards the fashion of the time towards the end. This is typical of Wilhelm Friedemann who in his oeuvre moves to and fro between the various styles of his time.

The number of fugues he composed is remarkable and this is considered one of the reasons he fell from grace towards the end of his career. The form of the fugue had become largely obsolete, and when Friedemann attempted to get the Eight Fugues printed, publishers refused. These are very likely characteristic of his style of playing, and that could well have been the reason that in the last stage of his life he wasn't in much demand as an organist any more. It is assumed that he mostly improvised during his public concerts; that is probably the reason so little organ music by him has been preserved.

The duplications allow us to compare the interpretations of these two organists which are quite different. A look at the track-lists reveals that Julia Brown is consistently slower than Friedhelm Flamme. It is mostly not possible to decide which tempo is right. The Fugue in F (F 33 / A 90), for instance, works in both performances quite well. The slower reading by Julia Brown lends it a kind of gravity and seriousness which suits its character as it is reminiscent of the fugues in Sebastian's Well-tempered Clavier. Elsewhere the slow tempo works against the music, for instance in the Fugue in c minor (track 6) where the trills are unnatural. One could probably characterise Ms Brown's performances as analytical: every detail is exposed, thanks not only to the relatively slow tempi but also the registration which is mostly modest and allows for every single voice to be followed.

The differences between these two discs are also due to the organs. Julia Brown plays an instrument built by Paul Fritts and Company in 1999, which was clearly inspired by the German baroque organ. Friedhelm Flamme also plays a modern organ by Martin Hillebrand dating from 2008. Here new stops have been built in the style of the 18th century, particularly based on the disposition of the organ by Christian Vater which was built in this church in the 1730s. Some pipework from the organ Carl Giesecke had built in the same church in the 1860s has been incorporated into this organ. Because of that the sound is quite different, mellower and less penetrating than the sound of the organ Julia Brown plays. I don't want to choose between them. The Eight Fugues come off beautifully at the Hillebrand. So do the chorale preludes, but in these somewhat old-fashioned pieces the Fritts organ is probably closer to what Bach had at his disposal in his earlier years.

Both booklets leave something to be desired. I have already identified that the doubtful authenticity of several pieces in Julia Brown's recording is not mentioned. Otherwise the liner-notes are not very specific about the various pieces. The CPO booklet contains some general information about Wilhelm Friedemann as an organist, but little analysis of the music. The track-lists should have given the numbers in Peter Wollny's catalogue as well, in particular as Falck's catalogue is out of date. I have added them on the basis of the work-list in New Grove.

Both recordings have their merits and those who have an interest in Wilhelm Friedemann's music shouldn't miss either of them.

-- Johan van Veen, MusicWeb International

This is the Morton Gould album to get, especially for the Symphony No. 4, subtitled "West Point." The piece is interesting, convincing, and accomplished. The performance is superb, and the sound quality is simply stunning.

The most popular of Morton Gould's clear-cut, distinctive compositions have become less often heard in the recent years since his passing. He composed many more pieces than most people have heard and he achieved numerous commissions, hence there are many occasional pieces marking special events as well as pieces for specific ensembles. Gould's bright orchestration combined melodic turns from American folksong, jazz, gospel and blues peppered with colorful splashes of deftly applied 20th century dissonance and snappy dance rhythms, makes his music distinctively recognizable. One can however grow weary from overexposure to his bag of tricks so unless you absolutely love the Gould sound, acquiring albums that have good performances of his most popular works points to where to start if Gould is new to you. This distinctiveness is particularly noteworthy in his writing for wind instruments found on this album. He had a good ear for combining instruments to produce new colors.

The Naxos CD offers several big pluses. Anyone who played in a high school, college or university symphonic band probably played a Gould piece at one time or another and will want this album but whether you did or not, this is the Morton Gould album to get, especially for the Symphony No. 4 subtitled "West Point". The piece really is interesting, convincing and accomplished yet without the slick, facile quality found in some of Gould's lighter, entertaining works. The performance is superb and the sound quality is simply stunning. The other pieces on the album are also of interest. All of this, plus the price, places this release by the University of Kansas Wind Ensemble under Scott Weiss above the much older but otherwise excellent, classic Eastman Wind Ensemble recording conducted by Frederick Fennell. The piece was commissioned by the United States Military Band in 1952 and is not just a ceremonial work but instead, a serious, true symphony with a sustained melodic and contrapuntal development, particularly in the second movement, that draws you in and leads you through many fascinating moments.

The other works, though not on the level of the symphony, are worth hearing. With its musical depiction the trumpeting that brings down the walls in a straight-forward and obvious way, Jericho will thrill some listeners and bore the jaded. There doesn't seem to be a deeper meaning to this piece, just a well-written musical depiction of the fall of Jericho. The trumpet calls might remind you of Jerry Goldsmith's film score for Patton.

The Saint Lawrence Suite, composed for the Saint Lawrence Power Project is also of immediate melodic appeal. Cast in four dance-like movements, it is the kind of piece that if programed on a classical radio station will hit listeners just right prompting calls requesting to know what it is. This music is greatly aided by the fine musicianship of the University of Kansas players.

There is also the suite titled Derivations, written for clarinetist Benny Goodman and the rarely heard Fanfare for Freedom which was commissioned, along with Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man, for wartime concerts. Even in the lesser works, the great sound quality and musicianship carry the day and it is the 4th Symphony that is the masterpiece in its best performance on record.

– Greg La Traille, ArkivMusic.com

An interesting big symphony coupled with a shorter work that represents Casella at his considerable finest.

To my mind one of the most interesting and successful current Naxos series is that devoted to the orchestral music of Alfredo Casella. The current release is the fourth and contains Casella’s third and last symphony. Suffice to say all of the excellent values of performance and engineering/production of the first three volumes are duplicated here so admirers need not hesitate.
 
I had no knowledge of the major works prior to collecting these discs but I was mightily impressed with the scale and power of the earlier two symphonies. Casella’s third and final essay in the form is actually – and rather confusingly – simply titled Sinfonia and dates from 1939 making it a full three decades younger than the earlier pair. All three are big works; Nos. 1 & 3 clock in around the ¾ hour mark and No.2 is a full 55 minutes. Although the influences are different it is clear to hear that Casella was a man who was willing to let his admiration for the music of others infuse his own. So where the earlier works are epically Mahlerian the later work echoes Shostakovich and Nielsen as well. I would have to say that this Sinfonia has not made as immediate an impact on me as the earlier works. The central pair of movements seem to contain the most cogent and well argued music. In the excellent liner-note by David Gallagher it is pointed out that the work is truly symphonic in that nearly all of the melodic material in the entire work derives from the opening germinal material. This I suppose reflects the experience gained through his career but it does not necessarily make for as compelling a listen as the excitingly confident indeed bravura music he wrote in his twenties. The first movement in particular suffers from extended passages of musical material being ‘worked’ without the sense of it creating an emotional landscape for the listener. After the rather appealing sparse opening the scoring suffers from being rather heavy and unrelenting. That being said the final pages of the movement flutter away into quiet inconsequence. These are all impressions that are based on a relatively brief acquaintance with the work and without the benefit of the score.
 
The Orchestra Sinfonica di Roma under conductor Francesco La Vecchia continue to make the good impression they formed previously – the strings play with good ensemble and a well balanced tone. Italian brass players are always game to play with plenty of edge and attack and so they do here. I have not heard the other available version on CPO from the WDR Sinfonieorchester Köln under Alun Francis but I cannot imagine they have much to fear from it in purely technical terms. Having heard very little ‘war’ music in the opening movement the second movement Andante molto moderato opens with a string-led threnody that is instantly much more engaging and powerful than anything in the opening movement. The Rome strings are good but I can imagine this movement being even more powerful if played with the weight and unanimity of Vienna or Berlin. I like the way the music slowly builds a momentum becoming a rather lop-sided yet unrelenting march underlying some lovely lyrical lines for the strings and woodwind. It is rather quirky and individual before the mood lightens towards a calm major key resolution. The third movement Scherzo has a mechanistic (rather than militaristic) feel and while it has some of Shostakovich’s stamping energy it lacks the nightmarish malice of that composer’s writing that makes his scherzi in particular so remarkable. I wonder if it would benefit from a slightly more unleashed tempo than here? I’m sure La Vecchia’s choice is dictated by the complex filigree writing that surrounds the main material but it does result in a basic pulse that plods.
 
The Finale is altogether more buoyant indeed optimistic which might seem at odds with the wartime context. But as Gallagher points out repeatedly Casella was an enthusiastic indeed sycophantic supporter of Mussolini and his fascist agenda and since the war was still going relatively well for the regime in 1939/40 why not be optimistic? Again, I find there are passages which I suspect appeal more to the academics who admire the way in which the material is developed – to my innocent ear they lack a huge amount of melodic interest. But there are several passages which allow the impressive Rome horns and brass to shine excitingly. This is the movement that sounds most heroically filmic. After the bombast of the opening ten minutes of the movement there is a coda/epilogue that is rather beautiful in the way the musical lines grope upwards sinuously in a mood of hymn-like reflection which just as it is fading away with elegiac solo strings is flattened by a raucously noisy conclusion. Given that that ending lacks any of the irony or forced good-humour of a Shostakovich one is left assuming that Casella was feeling pretty good about things in 1940 after all!
 
If the symphony was the only work on offer here I would direct collectors to the earlier works. However, it is this disc’s ‘filler’ which proves to be the absolute jewel here and indeed one of the finest works by Casella I have yet encountered. This is also a work written in time of war – 1916 – but here the presence of tragedy and sorrow is unmistakeable. This Elegia eroica is subtitled “alla memoria di un Soldato morto in Guerra”. The very opening is magnificently striking in a way that eluded the symphony totally. Tolling horns, ominous tam-tam, skirling wood-wind and disconsolate strings immediately plunge the listener in a world of loss and despair. It feels much more modern and challenging than the later work. This is how Casella described it; “a heroic funeral march, a more intimate deeply sorrowful central episode; and finally a fusillade of death that thunders through the orchestra [and] subsides into a tender lullaby evoking an image of our country as a mother tenderly cradling her dead son”. The musical means Casella uses for this are actually considerably more modernistic than the potentially maudlin narrative might imply. It reminds me of the expressionist scores being written in Germany around this time and certainly quite unlike any other contemporaneous Italian score I can think of. The Rome orchestra are superb here relishing the extremes of dynamic and range the piece demands. Casella’s particular coup-de-théâtre was lost on the work’s first audience. The final lullaby is given to the solo oboe which plays fragments of the 19 ^th century patriotic song Fratelli d’Italia over a string-led rocking berceuse accompaniment – definite echoes of The Firebird here. It is a passage of tender beauty and poignant rapture – all drowned out in 1916 by “a tidal wave of indignation … not a single note could be heard.” Casella pares his orchestration right back to a skeletal minimum to stunning effect. In its quasi-minimalist way this passage pre-echoes Holst’s Uranus or the finale of Vaughan Williams’ Symphony No.6. Even the way Casella avoids any ‘comfortable’ ending adds to the impact and sincere power of the work.
 
So a conundrum for the collector to consider – a big symphony that is interesting but not the place to start your symphonic investigation of the composer coupled with a shorter work that represents him at his considerable finest. On balance, at the Naxos bargain price point, I would say worth buying for the Elegia alone. Hopefully Naxos will continue to use this creative team for further projects and indeed more Casella.
 
-- Nick Barnard, MusicWeb International

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Francesco La Vecchia’s recordings of modern Italian music for Naxos have been impressive, nowhere more so than in his discs dedicated to the finely crafted works of Alfredo Casella. The Third Symphony, written for Chicago, is a late piece (1940), but still an ambitious essay in the grand tradition. It’s beautifully put together, melodically pungent (maybe a touch of Honegger), colorfully scored, but also austere, even severe in places. It’s clearly the work of a mature master. Elegia eroica is a funeral march dating from 1916, a passionate threnody “to the memory of a soldier killed in battle.”
As with the other discs in this series, the performances are wholly convincing, well played and recorded. In the case of the symphony, though, there’s very strong competition, even better engineered, from Alun Francis and the slightly finer WDR Symphony Orchestra on CPO, coupled to the tone poem Italia. La Vecchia does present a legitimate alternate view, of course, with some strikingly different bits of instrumental detail, and a work of this richness ought to be heard in more than one interpretation. So if you’ve been collecting this series, by all means grab this release without qualms.
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Liszt wrote his A Faust Symphony; Three Character Pictures, Faust, Gretchen and Mephistopheles, after Goethe, in 1854, adding a choral finale three years later, when it was first performed in Weimar. Further revisions took place, with changes introduced even as late as 1880. He transcribed the second Gretchen movement for solo piano, completing it eventually in 1874, and in 1862 published his version of the work for two pianos, revising it in 1870. The subject of Faust, the scholar who sold his soul to the Devil in return for youth and power, had a particular attraction to artists in the nineteenth century, when Faust might appear as a human hero, an opponent of ancient tyrannies, political and religious, and the Devil himself might seem to have similar attractions. Where the Elizabethan version of the story by Christopher Marlowe brought Faust to a medieval Hell, Goethe's monumental and influential poetic treatment of the subject ended in the final redemption of Faust through the power of love and of the woman he had wronged, Gretchen. Liszt based his symphony on the literary work of his great predecessor in Weimar, Goethe, and returned to the subject of Faust in later compositions based on Lenau's Faust, including the Mephisto Waltzes. The second movement, Gretchen, generally lightly scored, starts with a gentle passage, scored originally for flutes and clarinets, followed by the main theme, played by oboe accompanied by solo viola, the two piano version marked Innocente. There is a short passage that represents the scene in the garden when Gretchen plucks the petals of a flower, seeking to know whether Faust loves her or not. A second Gretchen theme is heard, and in the central section of the movement Faust's theme of love appears, and a descending melody associated with Faust's yearning. The agitated theme of Faust's struggle re-appears, now mollified in a gentler mood. This leads to a re-appearance of the Gretchen themes, with the theme of Faust's heroism utterly transformed in conclusion, as the sound dies away. The third part of the Faust Symphony is devoted to the devil, Mephistopheles. Marked Allegro vivace, ironico, it transforms the thematic material of the earlier pictures, in a remarkable scherzo of great power, twisting the material associated with Faust, but allowing Gretchen to overcome the power of evil, when her theme appears in all it's simple purity, after the violence of a fugue, based on a version of the theme associated with the emotions of Faust. The complexities of the movement and the transformation of earlier thematic material defy succinct explanation in a picture that includes only one extraneous thematic element, the 'pride' theme from Liszt's Malédiction for piano and orchestra.

DI VITTORIO Overtura Respighiana 1. Symphony No. 2, “Lost Innocence 1.” Ave Maria 2. Symphony No. 1, “Isolation 1.” Clarinet Sonata No. 1 3 • 1,2 Salvatore Di Vittorio, cond; 2 Respighi Choir; 3 Benjamin Baron (cl); 1 New York “Ottorino Respighi” CO • NAXOS 8572333 (56:52)


RESPIGHI Aria for Strings. Violin Concerto in A. Suite for Strings. Rossiniana: Suite • Salvatore Di Vittorio, cond; Laura Marzadori (vn); New York “Ottorino Respighi” CO • NAXOS 8572332 (77:32)


If Palermo-born Salvatore Di Vittorio (b.1967) is new to you (as he is to me), based on these two Naxos releases you might be justified in thinking he’s a third-generation relation to Italian composer Ottorino Respighi. That’s because as a conductor, Di Vittorio leads an ensemble he founded and named “Ottorino Respighi” Chamber Orchestra of New York in a program of works by Respighi. As an arranger, he revised and/or completed three of the works heard on the second of these two discs. And as a composer, Di Vittorio has been hailed as a “lyrical romantic … following in the footsteps of Respighi.” Though a reading of Di Vittorio’s biography on his website (salvatoredivittorio.com/bio.html) discloses no direct link to the former composer, it appears that Respighi is near and dear to Di Vittorio’s heart.


In a sense, you might say that in at least one of his compositions, Overtura Respighiana , Di Vittorio has channeled Respighi to write music that the real Respighi might have written himself, for the piece is a devilishly delightful concoction that plays on Respighi’s Rossiniana and Pines of Rome , fusing them with references to Di Vittorio’s own music, to create a kind of freshly minted Boutique fantasque.


The Symphony No. 2, titled “Lost Innocence,” on the other hand, does not, as far as I can tell, quote anything by Respighi, but the brilliant swatches of instrumental color Di Vittorio weaves into and through this striking musical tapestry is reminiscent of Respighi’s way with the orchestral palette. Di Vittorio tells us that the work was inspired by the tragedy of the Yugoslav civil wars in the late 1990s. Its four movements—“Requiem for a Child,” “Dance of Tears,” “Childheart,” and “Elegy: Marcia Funebre”—at least up until the finale, reflect a calm that is neither quiet nor peaceful, but one that builds toward a shattering, tragic ending.


The Ave Maria for a cappella women’s chorus is one of Di Vittorio’s conservatory works, written in 1995 (revised in 1998) after graduating from the Manhattan School of Music. At first it struck my ear as fairly dissonant, sounding almost like it could have been written by Penderecki, Lutos?awski, or Vasks, but as the piece unfolded, emerging from the harmonic counterpoint were passages that, with just a few minor adjustments to the voice-leading, sounded as if they might have come from a cappella moments in Verdi’s Requiem. Di Vittorio confirms that impression in his booklet note, stating that a number of influences run through the piece, from Palestrina and Monteverdi to Verdi, and that “in particular, certain resemblances may be traced to Verdi’s choral Ave Maria .” The effects of Di Vittorio’s piece are quite arresting, simultaneously stark and austere yet illuminated from within by a shimmering light that leads to a most meltingly beautiful cadential Amen.


The Symphony No. 1, titled “Isolation,” dates to one year before the Ave Maria but was revised in 1999. No borrowings from Respighi appear in this score either, yet his spirit hovers over it in the luminous divided string writing and exquisite chiaroscuro effects. This is a strings-only work, and according to Di Vittorio one of its influences was Vivaldi’s seldom-performed Sinfonia al Santo Sepolcro , RV 169, one of Vivaldi’s most harmonically tortured works, written in a highly chromatic idiom intended to represent Christ’s pain and suffering. For Di Vittorio, the “Isolation” Symphony is meant to depict man’s alienation from himself and his fellow man. If you were to listen to the piece without knowing that, I’m not sure you would necessarily pick up specifically on that theme. The music is sad, to be sure, even brooding, but more than once it put me in mind of Barber’s Adagio for Strings , a piece that is somehow uplifting in its tragedy.


The Di Vittorio-as-composer CD closes with another work revised in 1998, the Clarinet Sonata No. 1. Not reflected in its title is the fact that it’s a piece for unaccompanied clarinet, which is a bit of a challenge for both composer and performer, considering that a solo wind instrument, unlike a violin or cello, can’t make its own harmony by playing double-stops or chords. But I suppose if Bach and Debussy could write for unaccompanied flute, there’s no reason the solo capabilities of other wind instruments shouldn’t be explored. Di Vittorio notes that he drew inspiration and advice for the work from his father, Giuseppe, who was a clarinetist. Di Vittorio claims to have been influenced by Verdi, Brahms, Berlioz, and elements of French Baroque dance, though these elements are not easily discerned due to the nature of the music’s syntax and style, which consists largely of loosely connected contrasting phrases that never quite seem to coalesce into an identifiable whole. Nonetheless, Benjamin Baron’s very accomplished clarinet playing invites further listening and offers a promise that there is more to this piece than meets the ear on first hearing.


Critics can be a cruel lot—I know because I’m one of them—and there are those who will say, and already have, that music like this being written today is irrelevant. That’s a strong sentiment, for sure, but nowhere near as judgmental as someone like Pierre Boulez would be. He is quoted as having said that composers who write music like this simply don’t exist, prompting an acquaintance of mine to describe Boulez as “the Dr. Mengele of France.” With one wave of his hand, off you go to the gas chamber. My attitude, as expressed on a number of past occasions, is that beautiful music is beautiful music, regardless of when it’s written, and Di Vittorio proves himself with this CD to be a composer of beautiful music extraordinaire. I strongly recommend this release to you for many hours of listening pleasure.


The second of the two entries consists entirely of music by Respighi, though Di Vittorio has had a hand in the realization of three of the four of the works as heard on the disc. I’m not sure just how seriously Respighi was ever taken by critics and the academic elite, but thanks to a small number of works—primarily his Roman trilogy, the Ancient Airs and Dances suites, and La Boutique fantasque —he came to enjoy considerable exposure and popularity, especially in the U.S. Toscanini premiered the third number of the Roman trilogy, Feste Romane , with the New York Philharmonic in 1929, and then went on to record the piece for RCA twice, once in 1942 with the Philadelphia Orchestra and a second time with the NBC Symphony Orchestra in 1949, adding the Fountains of Rome in 1951 and the Pines of Rome in 1953. Toscanini wasn’t the only one to climb aboard the Respighi bandwagon. Mengelberg premiered the composer’s Toccata for Piano and Orchestra with the New York Philharmonic in 1928, and the Boston Symphony Orchestra commissioned Respighi’s Metamorphoseon for its 50th anniversary in 1931.


Yet of Respighi’s nearly 200 scores—among which are nine operas, five ballets, several concertos, quite a few chamber works, and a considerable volume of vocal and choral numbers—a good deal of it is unrecorded and rarely, if ever, performed. The reasons seem to be twofold. First, the critics and opinion-makers, while acknowledging the composer’s gift for colorful orchestration and pictorial illusionism, regarded the music as “derivative,” “cinematic,” and even “vulgar,” by which I prefer to think they meant lacking in substance and depth rather than tawdry and tasteless. The truth of the matter is that there is nothing any more cinematic or “vulgar,” if you choose to use that word, about Respighi’s The Fountains of Rome , written in 1916, than there is about Bloch’s Schelomo written a year earlier. But the second, and perhaps more serious, criticism Respighi faced—though it was largely unjustified—was that he was a supporter of Mussolini’s fascist regime. Evidence seems to suggest that Respighi didn’t have a political bone in his body, but it may have been his very passivity and silence that were damning.


The 24-year-old Respighi began work on a violin concerto in 1903. Only the first two movements were completed; the third remained in a piano reduction with just a few measures orchestrated. After analyzing the score, Di Vittorio made enhancements to the orchestration of the first two movements and completed the third using material from the other movements. Di Vittorio’s completion was premiered in New York in 2010. I note a 1994 recording of the concerto on a Bongiovani CD, but it is only of Respighi’s original first two movements. The current performances of both the concerto and the Aria for Strings, transcribed by Di Vittorio, are world premiere recordings. The concerto, which owes much to Vivaldi and early Mendelssohn, inhabits a world of lyrical sunshine that plays on the senses like a fresh breeze bearing scents of an Italian vineyard in spring. Thanks to the efforts of Di Vittorio, and the capable hands and sensitive voice of violinist Laura Marzadori, this romantically expressive score is brought to us complete for the first time.


The even earlier 1901 Aria, Respighi’s salute to his Italian heritage by way of Frescobaldi, Corelli, and, again, Vivaldi, found its way into the composer’s Suite in G Major for Strings and Organ. Di Vittorio makes of it a lovely air for string orchestra. Both the Aria and the Suite were revised or edited to prepare the very first printed editions (score and parts) of each score. Up until now, only manuscript copies of the score and parts existed for both works. Beyond this, Di Vittorio then made slight adjustments to the Aria to make it suitable for not only string orchestra but string quintet, in order to promote Respighi’s music in academic settings, such as conservatories and music colleges.


The booklet does not explain to what extent Di Vittorio “revised” Respighi’s Suite for Strings, cataloged as P 41. The piece is a six-movement suite in Baroque style that anticipates Respighi’s later and very popular Ancient Airs and Dances.


Six years after Respighi visited Rossini’s collection of piano pieces titled Les Riens (“Trifles,” aka “Sins of my Old Age”) for his ballet La Boutique fantasque in 1919, he returned to mine the mother lode again in 1925 for his Rossiniana Suite. It is given here in unaltered form and in a delightful performance by Di Vittorio’s “Ottorino Respighi” Chamber Orchestra of New York. As one of Respighi’s more popular works, there is of course serious competition in the suite, not least among which is a classic 1967 recording with Ansermet (one of his last) and the Suisse Romande Orchestra.


The current Naxos release, in addition to excellent performances and recording, offers to the Respighi fan a combination of never-before-heard music and works in never-before-heard transcriptions by Salvatore Di Vittorio. Strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Composer, performer, teacher, music publisher and piano manufacturer, the Italian-English piano virtuoso Muzio Clementi stood at the vanguard of musical development in Europe. His piano sonatas influenced Beethoven with their treatment of complex harmony, structure, and texture. Clementi’s Gradus ad Parnassum, a collection of 100 stylistically diverse pieces, stands as a monument to Clementi’s technical and expressive mastery of the instrument. Award-winning pianist Alessandro Marangoni has been acclaimed as playing “naturally and beautifully” (ClassicsToday.com / Gradus ad Parnassum Vol. 1 / Naxos 8.572325).

John Ireland was an exceptional composer for the piano, as was his contemporary York Bowen. He may not have been a "major" composer in a conventional sense, but his work deserves to be better known, especially outside of England. His Piano Concerto is a masterpiece. Sure, the influence of Prokofiev is obvious, but Ireland embraces it and makes it his own. Written in 1930, it offers a combination of romantic glamor, saucy wit, and lyrical expressiveness that's quite personal and memorable. John Lenehan plays it as well as anybody has to date, with a very winning combination of fluidity in passagework and an easy rhythmic precision in the finale that sounds just right.

Legend, a tone poem for piano and orchestra, lives up to its name. It's a brooding, dramatic work that, like so many short pieces for piano and orchestra, never will be heard in concert because of its brevity. Why doesn't some pianist put together a program of tone poems for piano and orchestra and turn them into a "mini" concerto? Anyway, what makes this program so attractive is the inclusion of the solo piano works. Lenehan already has produced several fine discs of Ireland's piano music, and there's no question that he understands the idiom. The pieces on offer here really show Ireland's range, from the passionate First Rhapsody to the poetic Sea Idyll and colorful Three Dances. Excellent sonics too.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

MADERNA Piano Concerto. 1 Piano Concerto (version for 2 pianos 2 ) . Concerto for 2 Pianos 3. Quadrivium 4 • 1,2,3 Aldo Orvieto, 2,3 Fausto Bongelli (pn); 1,3,4 Carlo Miotto, cond; 3 Gruppo 40.6; 1,4 Arena di Verona O • NAXOS 8.572642 (66:32)


Bruno Maderna (1920–73) was an Italian postwar composer and conductor. He studied composition with Gian Francesco Malipiero in the early 1940s; it was Malipiero whom he felt was not only a great teacher, but who also gave to him an appreciation of earlier music. Around the same time he studied conducting with Guarnieri at the Accademia Musicale Chigiana, Siena; he proved to be gifted in this respect as well. He later attended an international course in conducting in Venice with none other than Hermann Scherchen, the great German conductor who was highly interested in contemporary music. During the 1950s Maderna worked to revitalize the musical scene in Italy. One of the major projects, which came to fruition in 1955, was the founding of the Studio di Fonologia Musicale of the RAI. This allowed both Maderna and Berio to work further in their experimentations with electronic forms of music-making. By the 1960s he was conducting more than ever. He worked with some of the most prestigious orchestras in the world at the time—New York, Chicago, Amsterdam, and Cleveland, to name just a few—conducting everything from contemporary works and Mahler symphonies to Mozart and Debussy operas. Compositionally, he remained equally interested in a wide range of music throughout his life—dodecaphonic, early Venetian and Flemish, electronic; everything was filtered through his keen mind. He died—too young—at the age of 53.


The first three works on the current recital (of which the two versions of the Piano Concerto are premiere recordings) are all short works—all between 11 and 12 minutes. The Piano Concerto (1942) is an early work. It sounds a bit like a mixture of Bartók, Berg, and perhaps Hindemith, though there is already a unique sound that shines through. The work is contrapuntal, well orchestrated, and highly melodic. It is above all else a pleasure to listen to. The version from 1946 for two pianos sounds almost like an x-ray of the music by comparison. It is fascinating to have these two versions side by side, as many of the details that get lost through the addition of numerous tone colors are all of a sudden brought to the fore; the piece sounds new. One can hear that the 1940s saw Maderna seeking new avenues of expression. The Concerto for Two Pianos (1948) is far away from the sound world of the previous two works. It begins with a mysterious air to it, using few notes and just the pianos to create its mood. It becomes more animato as the composition progresses, adding more and different percussion instruments into the mix, erupting at times, receding at others. It ends with a torrent of timbres. Quadrivium (1969) is a late work. Lasting some 31 minutes, it is the longest work on the recording. It is composed of four percussionists and four orchestral groups, symbolizing the four liberal arts—arithmetic, algebra, music, and astronomy. It is the most experimental of his works on the disc, featuring strict serial writing, aleatoric moments, and counterpoint, and is infused with a sense of exploration of sonorities. I can’t say that this type of music will be for everyone, but repeated listenings help in the appreciation and understanding of this music. I can only say that I have been rewarded in the process.


The musicians on this recording give the sense that they have studied and love this music—and there is much to be loved, even by the casual listener. The early works, in particular, are delightful in sound and conception, while the later works, though more complex, are also quite engaging; just be prepared for a good deal of writing for percussion instruments. The sound quality is excellent—each instrument literally pops out of the mix when required. The numerous changes in color on the piano are captured vividly here as well. Overall this is a very fine release of music that should be better known, more listened to, and in the end cherished.


FANFARE: Scott Noriega

Plenty of interesting content, well photographed, complements the musical arrangements of popular Christmas tunes.

Might as well get my grumble out of my system at the start, particularly as I enjoyed much of the photography, most of the locations and all the musical arrangements. It is just that the title could be deemed misleading as only two Chapters of the thirteen are not of Switzerland and two of the remaining eleven are not focused on Zurich. No problem though about the preponderance of Zurich.
 
Switzerland has existed as the world’s oldest democracy for some seven hundred years. It is the most linguistically and culturally diverse western European nation. Its diversity derives from its history; having experienced internal religious conflict, the Congress of Vienna guaranteed independence and neutrality in 1815. A new federal state of Cantons was formed in 1848 with Bern as the capital. The Cantons reflect cultural and linguistic variety. With borders with France, Germany and Italy these are the appropriate languages of the population who usually speak at least two along with English. The Romantsch dialect is also spoken by about one percent of its people. Zurich is the largest city, located at the north-western end of Lake Zurich, and has long been the industrial and banking centre of the country as well as a magnet for tourism. Its history includes being a centre of Protestantism.
 
It is on Zurich that the opening Chapters focus with views of the city streets at night dressed in resplendent Christmas decorations (CH.1). In the daylight, dusted in snow with a misty hue, the city looks less inviting albeit the bridge over the river Lammat and the mighty twin towers of the Cathedral are imposing (CH.2). The tradition of Christmas is central in December and the film visits the mechanical Father Christmas, a wonderful Christmas crib and the various toyshops with captivated children peering through the windows (CHs. 3-5). The great Minster, in all its internal magnificence appears to the melody of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen played in a baroque manner (CH.6). After brief visits to the Toy Museum in Nuremberg, a city well known as the centre of the German toy-making industry (CH.8), it’s back to Zurich to one of their leading toy emporia with a final visit to a window display of model trains zipping around snowy mountain scenery and model houses; captivating for the children, and, I do not doubt, their parents (CH.13). In between these last two visits, filming takes in a Brussels restaurant where seafood, not just moules and frites, is being prepared and where one can lust over the chocolates, not all Pralines (CH.10). Swiss winter landscapes (CH.12) and the Einsieden Monastery, an important centre of Catholic pilgrimage, are further diversions from Zurich. The monastery church is largely baroque in form (CH.11). The other interesting church visited is that at Engadine, a Romantsch-speaking district set in mountains and popular with visitors (CH.7). Both religious buildings have interesting frescoes and murals.
 
Each visit throughout this tour is accompanied by Baroque-type arrangements of mainly well-known Christmas music. Those chosen include Good King Wenceslas, The First Nowell, Jingle Bells, Silent Night and We Wish You A merry Christmas. With the arrangements being based on Baroque practice, brass is prominent but not overdone. Once or twice, as with O Tannenbaum (CH.12) the arrangement loses the underlying melody, for me at least.
 
-- Robert J Farr, MusicWeb International

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Picture format: NTSC 4:3
Sound format: PCM Stereo 2.0 / Dolby Digital 5.1 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Running time: 54 mins
No. of DVDs: 1

The Places:

The tour visits historic sites in the Czech Republic, Austria, Germany, Switzerland and Belgium. These include the castles of Litomyšl and Konopišt? in Bohemia, and the historic town of M?lnik, the Horological Museum at Le Locle in Switzerland, relics of war from the Bavarian Army Museum in Ingolstadt, and a glimpse of the Belgian Château of Gaasbeek.

The Music:

The tour brings two of Joseph Haydn’s most famous symphonies, written for a London concert season in 1794, Symphony No. 100, the so-called Military Symphony, and Symphony No. 101, nicknamed The Clock.

Format: NTSC, 4:3
Audio: DTS 5.1, Dolby Digital 5.1, PCM Stereo 2.0
Region: 0 (All)

The journey starts in Switzerland, in the canton of Thurgau, leading from Steckborn and the Bodensee to the Rhine Falls. From Styria, in Austria, comes Hockosterwitz Castle and from Bavaria Weikersheim Castle, the latter intercut with wild life.