The organ sonatas of Josef Rheinberger still feature large in the repertoire of church organists everywhere, thanks to their attractive melodies and fluent writing for the instrument. Rheinberger’s industry and his skill as a teacher have overshadowed his gifts as a composer in other genres, which this new release helps to redress with suites and tone-pictures for the combination of strings and organ.

While Rheinberger’s Abendlied Op.69 No.2 holds a Brahmsian appeal for choruses, his instrumental Abendlied Op.150 is much less familiar. Yet the combination of string- instrument and organ is intensely evocative of the warm mood of recollection intrinsic to the German genre of ‘Evening Songs’; Rheinberger balances the two instruments with great skill and sympathy so that the organ always supports the cello’s noble cantabile. The Abendlied features here in two recordings; arranged for cello, and in its original version for violin, as part of the complete set of six pieces. Cellist Marco Dalsass also contributes an arrangement of the Pastorale and Elegie from the same set, and it proves fascinating to compare the angelic song of the violin with the warmer baritonal register of the cello in the same music. Both violin and cello join the organ for the Suite Op.149: a substantial four-movement work lasting 40 minutes, opening in a passionate but Baroque-inflected C minor. A meditative set of variations on an original theme is followed by a solemn sarabande, beautifully conceived for all three instruments in the vein of a Romantic slow movement but essentially ecclesiastical in tone. Baroque forms – a free-flowing prelude, a tender Canzone and graceful Allemande – also soften the C minor tonality of the Suite Op.166 for violin and organ, before the Moto perpetuo finale brings the suite to a dazzling close with the most extrovert music in the collection.

The distinguished New York-based composer-pianist Bruce Wolosoff synthesizes traditional tonal idioms with lifelong enthusiasms for jazz, blues, and rock music, creating a distinct musical language that speaks to the heart, but is unmistakably contemporary. His soaring, soulful melodies are strikingly suited to the cello, “in some ways my favorite instrument,” admits Bruce, “after my own of course.” For Paradise Found, Bruce reunites with Grammy Award-winning cellist Sara Sant’Ambrogio – the pair previously collaborated on Bruce’s Cello Concerto, a Top 10 Billboard Classical chart hit – for the first recordings of his two Cello Sonatas, and two miniatures Circe and The Woods. Paradise Found is indelibly inspired by the splendors of the natural world.

The title track – Bruce’s first cello sonata – was composed under the shadow of 2020’s first COVID lockdown and serves as an affirmation of lasting beauty when the world was plunged into a very dark place. “In composing this piece,” Wolosoff reveals, “I wanted to remind myself, and future listeners, that the world is still beautiful.” Bruce’s second cello sonata, “Requiem for the Planet,” is a musical response to climate change. With movements titled ‘Song of the Earth,’ ‘Requiem Aeternum,’ ‘The Great Waters’ and ‘Epilogue: I have loved this world so dearly,’ the work is a sort of musical requiem in sonata form. But it is not without hope. Bruce acknowledges, “It is my most fervent wish that this beautiful, ephemeral world will endure throughout my children’s lifetimes.” The album concludes with two “encores” – Circe inspired by the sorceress in Homer’s The Odyssey, and The Woods, after a drawing by Bruce’s friend April Gornik, whose beautiful paintings adorn the album’s booklet.

At the end of his journey with the suites for violoncello solo by Johann Sebastian Bach, Francesco Galligioni has arrived at the cheerful and fresh Suite No. 6. As an appendix, so to speak, the internationally renowned baroque cellist from Padua offers chamber music for violoncello by the Bach family. In addition to two sonatas by Johann Christoph Friedrich Bach, famously called "Bückeburg Bach", the album offers a world premiere recording of an "Aria Scotese con variazzioni" - a Scottish song with variations by Johann Philipp Bach, who was court painter and organist of Saxe-Meiningen.

The Lights Are Always On is pianist/composer Lynne Arriale’s 16th album as leader, and her third recording on Challenge Records International. Lynne’s original music is a suite of compositions that reflect the world-wide, life-changing events of the past two years. On this session Lynne is joined by bassist/co-producer Jasper Somsen and drummer E.J. Strickland, both outstanding, in-demand musicians on the international jazz scene.

Lynne’s ten original, highly evocative compositions begin with the persistent Afro-Cuban influenced “March On,” a tribute to activists worldwide. “The Lights Are Always On” features a lyrical melody in perpetual motion; the foundation of a thematic arc that soars over the entire piece. It is followed by the jubilant, gospel-influenced “Sisters.” Lynne’s dedication to Lt. Colonel Alexander Vindman, “Honor,” is the melding of two engaging melodic ideas; each reinforcing the other. Together they convey the heroic character and unwavering strength of this American patriot. “Loved Ones” expresses joyful appreciation for those who are precious to us. The set continues with “Sounds Like America,” where Lynne creates an optimistic melody and solo, culminating in a celebratory chordal finish.

“The Notorious RBG,” is an exuberant dedication to Ruth Bader Ginsburg, assertively propelled by drummer E.J. Strickland. Following that, Lynne and Jasper deftly navigate the angular harmonic construction of “Into the Breach,” Lynne’s ominous remembrance of the January 6th Insurrection and the heroes that saved democracy on that day. “Walk in My Shoes,” a dedication to civil rights icon John Lewis, reflects the tenacity and strength of this remarkable leader. Lynne begins her solo with two motivic statements, which she skillfully integrates into a cohesive, powerful performance. The album concludes with “Heroes”, a heartfelt ballad composed in recognition of those who enlightened a very dark period in our history, and who embody the greatest humanistic virtues of mankind.

REVIEWS:

This is an album that is drawing on a lot of important messages of solidarity, of resistance, of hope, of joy, and it’s absolutely exquisite… a gorgeous sense of space and melody... This album emotionally, feels very necessary right now… outstanding!

-- A Closer Listen, Jazz at Lincoln Center (Seton Hawkins)

Her last two albums especially reveal how her vision, insight and passion cohere with her sense of being a fellow human and citizen in America, and of the world in very troubled times. Emotional and musical eloquence radiate from her playing with heartfelt ardor and honesty, and focused intensity. We are hearing a sort of heroism at work, her generous spirit and commitment, her exquisitely pointed and expansive testimonies.

-- Culture Currents (Kevin Lynch)

Arriale has great emotional pull, and there are whirlpools and whirlwinds in her playing. There is this pattern in Arriale where she begins with darkness, then everything is bathed in light. This is a strong recording, about strength. She has succeeded in putting us in the hero’s shoes, the light of the powerful mind pushing on through protests, and making change. And she has succeeded in putting us back in our shoes, with this invested strength to go on and change.

-- The Flash Boston (Sofia Marshall)

Franz Schubert’s opera “The Magic Harp” was premiered in 1820 at Theater an der Wien, Vienna, but was withdrawn after only eight performances due to in part devastating response from audience and critics (“nonsense and tedious”, “wretched trash”). The apparently poor libretto and detailed records of the staging were lost, only the music survived, with the overture later serving as the overture to “Rosamunde” and becoming extremely popular. The musicologist and Schubert specialist Brian Newbould transformed the existing melodramas into an orchestral suite, which was premiered in 2019 by the Junge Philharmonie Wien under conductor Michael Lessky. The present world premiere recording of this Magic Harp Suite shows that the music of the then 23-year-old Schubert is already quite progressive and forward-looking, and full of gripping drama in support of the action of the libretto, which could be reconstructed in excerpts.

Xiaogang Ye is one of China’s best-known contemporary composers whose work is acclaimed both in East Asia and the West for its colorful sonorities and lyrical expressiveness. Demonstrating Ye’s deep love for ancient Chinese poetry, Seven Episodes for Lin’an is a large-scale symphonic canvas that sets famous texts for the first time in contemporary history, weaving their eloquent imagery with intricate and timeless melodies. Twilight in Tibet evokes the landscape of the Himalayas, while the Tianjin Suite reflects the diversity of Tianjin, a city with a profound historical and cultural heritage, expressed through Ye’s signature combination of traditional and modern musical textures. This release features rising vocal stars Yuanming Song, Yijie Shi, and Songhu Liu alongside horn soloist Cong Gu.

Review:

At last! While we have plenty of filmed productions of Coppélia to watch and enjoy – whether vintage, bang up to date or downright wacky – and a very good one of Sylvia, this new release finally brings the first of Delibes’s three ballets, La source, to a wide audience via Blu-ray and DVD.

The usual explanation for La source’s historical neglect has been that the contribution of Delibes’s co-composer Ludwig Minkus diminished the overall quality of the score. But that suggestion isn’t an adequate one – or even necessarily accurate. In the first place, we need to be clear that “co-composers” doesn’t mean that each of the score’s individual numbers was a sort of high-quality-Delibes-watered-down-by-workmanlike-Minkus hybrid. In fact, the way in which the collaborative process worked was a very practical one – even if we have no idea why it was adopted – with each man allocated responsibility for different parts of the score. Minkus was entrusted with Act 1 and the second scene of Act 3, while Delibes was responsible for Act 2 and Act 3’s first scene. That turned out, in practice, to be a pretty even split, for Minkus ended up providing about 45 minutes worth of music and Delibes penned about 44[.]

It is certainly true that there are differences between the two men’s scores. To some extent, those derive from the mundanely practical point that each composer was writing music for very different sections of the story. Minkus’s focus in Act 1 was on establishing the ballet’s various characters and generally setting the scene, while the finale to Act 3 offered few opportunities as it gave him only six minutes to wrap up the whole drama. Delibes, on the other hand, was tasked with creating the music underpinning the more glamorous jollifications at the khan’s court, which allowed him to concentrate on writing livelier material that was characterised by far more colour, glitter and exotic sensuality.

There is, however, a second and somewhat more fundamental explanation for the perceived contrasts between the two composers’ scores, for Minkus and Delibes had rather different conceptions of what writing music for the ballet actually meant. The former was a composer of the old school who, as Ivor Guest wrote in his booklet essay for the aforementioned Bonynge CD, “specialised in composing music for the ballet, a field not highly regarded in musical circles but which nonetheless demanded a special gift to satisfy the ballet-master’s requirements – to produce melodious numbers for the dances and suitably descriptive passages for the action, and above all to deliver to a deadline”. That has led some critics to perceive Minkus as little more than a hack journeyman who churned out unmemorable material on demand, even though audiences who have come to appreciate the manner in which his skilfully-wrought scores underpin such popular ballets as Don Quixote and La bayadère might beg to differ. In reality, his music was in no way “inferior” to that of the next generation of ballet composers: it simply aimed to achieve a very different - but certainly no less legitimate – musical and dramatic purpose. The first embodiment of that subsequent generation, Delibes himself, was, on the other hand, a composer whose conception of ballet was developing into something rather more ambitious. No less a figure than Tchaikovsky, the originator of the modern “symphonic” style of ballet score, regarded Sylvia as “the first ballet in which the music constitutes not just the main, but the sole interest. What charm, what grace, what melodic, rhythmic and harmonic richness. I was ashamed. If I had known this music earlier, then of course I would not have written Swan Lake”.

It is far too easy, in fact, to assert glibly that any contrasts between the two composers’ contributions are necessarily qualitative in nature. Indeed, when listened to blind and without foreknowledge of who actually composed what, the score of La source – skilfully edited and occasionally augmented here by Marc-Olivier Dupin - actually emerges as a pretty seamless whole.

In reality, there were two other much more significant causes of the ballet’s failure to maintain a long-term place in the repertoire. In the first case, its plot was undeniably involved, and it is notable that the production under consideration omits several of its complicating plotlines. Moreover, the fact that there are no less than three central female figures and that easily confused names were selected for some of the central characters (Naïla/Nouredda, Djémil/Dadjé) does not help. The inconsistency of some of the participants’ on-stage motivations can also be puzzling from time to time – though, in the absence of any other modern production with which to compare it, that may be a feature unique to this particular one.

The second legitimate reason for La source’s relatively rapid descent into obscurity is simply accidental. It successfully maintained its place in the repertoire for a decade and there is no reason to doubt that regular revivals might subsequently have been mounted. However, a disastrous fire in 1873 destroyed the drawings, models and plans on which the original production had been based and, rather than recreate them from scratch, it no doubt seemed easier to ballet impresarios at the time to move on to different projects.

This new Blu-ray/DVD release preserves a new production of the ballet dating from almost 150 years after its premiere. Conservatively choreographed by Jean-Guillaume Bart for the Paris Opera Ballet, it follows the original story’s broad outlines and uses much of the Minkus/Delibes score. Booklet notes author Laure Guilbert is nevertheless at pains to stress that this production is in no way a “reconstruction” of the original but instead has a character and identity of its own. Those last words might be enough to strike fear in the heart of traditionalist ballet fans, but in reality the French choreographer (gushingly described by Ms. Guilbert as a man who “fervently cultivates his attachment to the classical universe… a lover of dance who has transformed [it] into an odyssey throughout the near- and far-flung realms of the art”) is owed a real debt of gratitude for his achievement in returning La source to the stage. There are, it’s true, a few significant problem areas that would have benefited from attention. In the case of the plot, Nouredda’s motivation and reactions as she experiences her character’s trials and tribulations can be somewhat opaque or even downright puzzling. In addition, the stage production itself is visually rather disconcerting. There is, to my own eyes at least, a jarring mismatch between Christian Lacroix’s detailed and often gorgeously elaborate costumes and Éric Ruf’s essentially impressionistic set designs. The latter are highly imaginative and attractive in their own right (especially a set of prominent and exquisitely lit ropes, lowered over the stage from the flies, that represent trees) but they are clearly not intended as any sort of realistic depiction of the settings and that doesn’t gel with the detailed, elaborate and convincingly “realistic” clothing sported by the dancers. Neither element can be described as wrong in itself, but another producer might have chosen to integrate them more effectively.

The quality of the dancing, meanwhile, is generally high, with the women, in particular, demonstrating confident assurance in their own technical skills. Ludmila Pagliero as Naïla performs with delicacy and an appropriate sense of otherworldliness; she presumably impressed not only the theatre audience but the company’s management, too, as within a year of this performance she had been promoted to the top rank of danseuse étoile. Meanwhile, the nature of her role as the princess Nouredda means that the other leading female dancer, Isabelle Ciaravola, tends to spend a disproportionate amount of time on stage looking depressed and generally mopey – although there are also moments, as already noted, when she looks bizarrely happy even though her circumstances are at their worst. If her acting is somewhat questionable, the same cannot be said, however, of Ms. Ciaravola’s dancing which is, invariably, both sensitively and often rather beautifully delivered. Of the men, Karl Paquette combines sheer energy with attention to detail in a winning performance that suffers only from an uncharacteristically drab and featureless costume, little suited, in my opinion, to the hero of a classical ballet. The role of Nouredda’s brother Mozdock, concerned about her only as far as she serves his own political ambitions, is taken by Christophe Duquenne who delivers an effectively villainous turn while leading his energetic and well-drilled soldiers in several lively numbers. Dancing as the elf Zaël, Mathias Heymann is the audience’s favourite as he leaps his way enthusiastically and repeatedly across the stage, creating a genuine character out of his role. The dancer portraying the libidinous khan, Alexis Renaud, makes the most of his opportunities but does not create as much of an impression as the other men. The rest of the company make a very positive contribution, to the extent that I thought that the numbers in which the primary focus was on the corps de ballet were among the most effectively delivered in the whole performance.

On the technical side, I was particularly impressed by the effectively realised stage lighting which has been very well captured on film. The sound, as relayed on this recording, is also more than merely acceptable and allows us to appreciate plenty of felicitous detail from the orchestra, led on this occasion by Koen Kessels who will be known to many as music director of the Royal Ballet. Meanwhile, the experienced François Roussillon’s film direction focuses our attention to everything that we need to see while not distracting us unnecessarily or drawing undue attention to itself.

This is an important release for balletomanes. It is, I think, unlikely that there will be an alternative version of La source any time soon...I repeat, therefore, my original reaction to the release of this new and well-produced Blu-ray disc – at last!
 
Rob Maynard

Dmitri Shostakovich was a versatile composer: popular and serious styles came to him with equal ease and are frequently found together in the same work. In his twenties, before the heavy hand of Soviet officialdom slapped him down in 1936, music of every kind poured out of him: symphonies, operas and full-length ballets but also a great amount of music for film and theatre. Here Andrew Litton leads the Singapore Symphony Orchestra in a program which explores this lighter side of a composer who is otherwise often regarded as unrelentingly serious.

The album opens with Suite for Jazz Orchestra No. 1, which Litton conducts from the piano. Consisting of three brief movements, it is the only truly original work on the disc, written in 1934 for a competition aimed at making ‘Soviet Jazz’ more respectable. The remaining suites are all reworkings of existing music, such as the ballets The Age of Gold – about the adventures of a Soviet football team visiting the decadent West – and The Limpid Stream, portraying a group of entertainers visiting an idyllic collective farm. The Suite for Variety Orchestra is a compilation that the composer made in the late 1950s from three film scores, a ballet movement and four piano pieces. Closing the album is Shostakovich’s 1927 orchestration of a Broadway classic, Vincent Youmans’ "Tea for Two," which had become a hit under the title "Tahiti Trot."

REVIEW:

Entitled Jazz & Variety, this album encompasses four of Shostakovich’s more popular-style suites, mainly drawn from his ballet and theatre scores. These range from the poker-faced, Kurt Weill-like stylization of 1920s dance music, complete with plunking banjo, in the Suite for Jazz Orchestra No. 1 (1934), via the Prokofiev-like burlesques of The Age of Gold – a 1930 ballet about the vicissitudes of a Soviet football team in the wicked West – to the more straightforwardly traditional ballet numbers of The Limpid Stream(1935/45) set on an idyllic collective farm, and the Suite for Variety Orchestra put together from various pieces from the 1950s.

One item, the Waltz from the Jazz Suite, recurs twice: more fully orchestrated in The Limpid Stream, and in yet a third arrangement with a different, more banal middle section, in the Variety Suite. The collection culminates in Shostakovich’s twinkling orchestration of a version of ‘Tea for Two’, entitled Tahiti Trot (1927). Yet, in the middle of all these frolics, the searing intensity of the extended Adagio from The Age of Gold reminds us of the other, tragic side of Shostakovich.

Andrew Litton and the Singapore Symphony Orchestra lavish more care and subtlety on these pieces than the quality of invention in some of the music maybe deserves, additionally flattered by BIS’s spacious recording – though the Jazz Suite might have more bite in a drier acoustic. Still, this is a superior collection for those who relish this lighter, sometimes naughtier side of Shostakovich.

-- BBC Music Magazine

Il Gusto Barocco approaches Johann Sebastian Bach's suites and concertos from a contemporary and at the same time historically informed perspective. On their new album "Suite & Concertos", Jörg Halubek and the early music specialists of Il Gusto Barocco take a look at Bach's activities in the Zimmermann coffee house in Leipzig. They are not reconstructing an actual programme, but testing how the spirit of the musical gatherings in the circle of family, relatives and students can be transferred to our modern times. "We want to take a more modern look at Bach, who today is mainly seen as a strict church composer. For us, it's about the communicative side turned towards people," says ensemble leader and harpsichordist Jörg Halubek. The cello, which is slowly emerging from its basso continuo shadow in Baroque music, leads the way through the program with Bach's third cello suite. The solo concertos inserted between the suite movements extend the individual focus to the group. The tendency in concert practice to preserve the inviolability of such a cherished work is here afforded a historically-informed approach accessed simultaneously through the eyes and ears of a modern musician. We do after all know, from contemporary sources from Bach’s time, that instrumental works were not always played in their entirety. The forthcoming albums in this series, featuring new recordings and released to mark Bach’s birthday, which began last year with the recording of the Brandenburg Concertos, should be afforded a musical presenter. The aim is to spotlight the soloistic qualities of the individual musicians who together form the ensemble overall, while also maintaining their individuality. In the concertos chosen for this program the orchestra plays more than just an accompanying role.

Fifteen years after his Nouvelles Suites de Pièces de Clavecin, Rameau once again turns his attention to an instrumental work, for what will be the last time, inspired by the new potential for chamber music glimpsed in the use of the concertante keyboard. The 1741 collection is the only new work he produced between 1740 and 1744, before returning to the musical theatre – to which he will dedicate the rest of his life. The most attractive aspect of the Pièces de Clavecin en Concerts, and the one which provides the most authentic reading of the work, is the multiplicity of possible combinations in performance between the instruments indicated in the score (harpsichord, violin/flute, viola da gamba/2nd violin ), following the detailed instructions that Rameau provides for each of them in the various Avis in the preface of the printed edition. The author’s intention was undoubtedly for the harpsichord and its virtuosic protagonism to be the backbone of the Pièces; however, the possibilities of alternative timbric arrangements are specifically contemplated by Rameau for this work. What was a widespread ad libitum performance practice, today becomes an extremely inviting challenge for modern performers in terms of tonal reinvention of the pieces. Thus, with each new reading the music may be reinvented, making in turn every new listening experience a rediscovery and a revelation.

What was the first composition ever written for solo violoncello? What was composed before Bach created his extraordinary suites for solo cello? These questions drove the cellist Josetxu Obregón to devote himself to the beginnings of solo literature for his instrument. These beginnings can be found in the city of Bologna, which, with its brilliant Capella Musicale and the Accademia Filarmonica, made a decisive contribution to the development of the violin and the cello. Obregon presents two ricercari by Domenico Gabrielli from 1688 as the first specific works for unaccompanied solo cello. Further stations on the way from Bologna to Cöthen to the climax of this genre with Bach's six suites are compositions by Vitali, Galli, de Ruvo, Dall' Abaco, Supriano and Colombi. Bach's works are also presented by Obregon, but in an unusual way: He takes a dance movement from each of Bach's suites and then places them - as a comparison of styles - between the works from his Italian anthology.

A MusicWeb International Recording of the Month for July 2022!

All in all Maria Bach left more than 400 works to posterity. Most (about 80%) are Lieder and choral works, followed by smaller-scale piano works; not unlike Edvard Grieg or Hugo Wolff, she was an expert in that field, though she did also compose three ballets, made up of small, orchestral piano pieces. Her most ambitious works then, are the few excursions she made into the realms of chamber music (solo cello sonata, cello sonata, piano quartet and quintet, string quintet and two string quartets), in which she ventured a confrontation with the traditions of the grand, established genres. On the present release, Oliver Triendl, Marina Grauman, Nina Karmon, Öykü Canpolat, and Alexander Hülshoff showcase Maria Bach’s chamber works, including the Piano Quintet “Wolga-Quintet”, the Cello Sonata, and the Suite for Cello Solo.

Review

[Maria Bach's] music is infused with French and Russian elements and one can quite hear why it was so appealing to Roger-Ducasse who ensured that her 31-minute Piano Quintet was performed at the Paris Conservatoire when she visited Paris in 1930-31. Like all good music it’s clearly susceptible to strongly divergent interpretive stances. The Hänssler team is anchored by Oliver Treindl, who in my experience is probably one of the most hard-working and often recorded of players. He’s also an athletic figure who ensures forward-moving tempi.

The eminent cellist Paul Grümmer was a family friend and Bach was fortunate he liked her music and played the Cello Sonata frequently. It’s modestly structured – three movements and 19 minutes in this reading by Alexander Hülshoff and Treindl – and has a ripe Brahmsian rhapsodic feel, with a warmly curvaceous lyricism in the Romanze second movement. As with the Piano Quintet the finale is full of dextrous animation.

The final work in the disc is the Suite for cello, a crisp four-movement affair that looks back to Popper, as the notes indicate, rather than [J.S.] Bach. After a sonorous, chordal Praeludium come the registral leaps of an etude-like Scherzo, an expressive Air and then another of her favoured variations for a finale – including a Tango-like one – which call for supple bowing. It’s a deft work, all the more so in not honouring [J.S.] Bach’s legacy in any obvious fashion.

In terms of amplitude and density of sound this disc is an impressive one. The players sound firmly engaged in what must have been unfamiliar repertoire. They’ve been backed up by some classy notes. For overt expression, choose this[.]

Jonathan Woolf 

Singer Sarah Brady on the genesis of the album: "We grasped the idea of an album entitled "Matters of the Heart" in the spring of 2020, at the time of the first lockdown during the Covid 19 pandemic. Stephen made the suggestion to put together a concert program for future performances. Women's Love and Life had been on my mind earlier, as I had wanted to work on this cycle since college. So it was soon clear that we both wanted to rehearse these Schumann songs. But what should we add? Stephen initially thought of a combination of several composers in the sense of a crossover album - including songs by the Beatles, for example! We came up with several program ideas and ultimately thought songs by Richard Strauss were best suited to expand on the emotional themes of the Schumann songs."

Pianist Andrew Rangell's debut recording—released thirty years ago—featured Bach's Goldberg Variations, F-sharp minor toccata, and the two Ricercares from "A Musical Offering". Over the course of many years, the verve, beauty, and originality of Mr. Rangell's Bach playing have been evidenced in a steady progression of interpretations: The Partitas, French Suites, Well-Tempered Clavier (bk.1), The Art of Fugue, English Suites, Inventions, Sinfonias, and many other individual pieces. Rangell's Bach survey ends with this second book of the WTC in sparkling, free-spirited performances. “Each successive listening reveals a seemingly, heretofore unnoticed beauty and profound polyphonic mystery.” (ConcertoNet.com)

REVIEW:

If there is one thing that Rangell does have going for him here—and it a big one—it is that he truly inhabits this music. The one thing he cannot be accused of in his playing is being is overly staid, proper, or boring. And if one is looking for a slightly different Bach—one that is not afraid to take chances or offend—then Rangell may be what you’re looking for.

-- Fanfare

His works have accompanied generations of beginner instrumental students on their first foray into contemporary music. But with works like his Concerto for Piano, Strings, and Percussion Jenö Takács clearly placed himself in a line with the great paragons Béla Bartók and Zoltán Kodály. Early he started out with the impressionist coloring and the influences of Hungarian folk music. Studying with Joseph Marx added a strict contrapuntal note to it. Getting to know Bártok further increased the Hungarian element (topicality, rhythm, bitonality). Jenö Takács was a humanist, a ‘musical cosmopolitan’, an eyewitness of almost the entire 20th century.

REVIEW:

The Serenade after Ancient Contradances from Graz consists of six cheerful movements for string orchestra, similar in style to Grieg’s Holberg Suite. It is relatively brief (7 minutes), and the tossed-off ending leaves me wanting more of its enjoyable swagger.

Takacs wrote the Concerto for piano, strings, and percussion in 1947 and revised it a few times. The piano part is steely as in Bartok’s concertos, but simpler textures and relatively more conventional harmonies make Takacs more approachable. Although there are many scintillating passages, a lot of the material seems to be waiting for another theme to take the lead—except it never does. The sections never quite build into something sweeping and fulfilling.

The Passacaglia is one of his most serious pieces, though it is not forbidding, even when it pushes up against the boundaries of tonality. The dramatic arc is quite satisfying.

The Three Pieces for string orchestra are cleverly thought-out and should be better known.

The playing in everything is wonderful; Karmon has a lush tone, and Triendl’s piano is fire and steel. The sonics are reverberant, and the string orchestra glows.

-- American Record Guide (Stephen Estep)