Classical Music

Bach: Orchestral Suites

Delights & Dances, the Chicago Sinfonietta’s first recording with its new music director, award-winning conductor Mei-Ann Chen, does what this singular ensemble does best: it captivates listeners of all ages and diverse ethnic backgrounds through irresistible music and superb musicianship. This release includes three world premiere recordings.

REVIEW:

This disc contains three enterprising works for string quartet and orchestra, an unusual but effective combination too seldom exploited, plus an entertaining encore, Saibei Dance by Chinese/Canadian composer An-Lun Huang. The most important piece on the disc is Benjamin Lees’ Concerto for String Quartet and Orchestra, which was recorded by RCA in the middle of the last century by Igor Buketoff and the Royal Philharmonic, and issued in tandem with Roger Sessions’ Third Symphony. It has been long due for a new recording, and this one is outstanding. The work is pure neo-classicism, close in style to the Hindemith of the Kammermusik series, containing arresting but modern-sounding ideas presented in a crystal-clear formal context. The finale, for example, is a rondo whose recurring idea is a motoric theme for string quartet punctuated by irregular strokes on the drums (sound clip). It’s instantly identifiable in whatever form it returns, and it places the intervening episodes in high relief.

Michael Abels’ Delights and Dances, a single movement for string quartet and string orchestra, offers a more modern take on Elgar’s Introduction and Allegro for the same forces. Beginning moodily with solo strings, it gradually increases in energy through to the jazzy conclusion. Finally, Randall Craig Fleischer has arranged a selection from Bernstein’s West Side Story for string quartet and orchestra. I am not wholly convinced by his calling this suite of 10 movements a “concerto”, despite the addition of two “cadenzas” along the way. This is not, incidentally, an arrangement of the Symphonic Dances, since it includes numbers (“America”, “Quintet”, “Tonight”) that are not part of that work. Not surprisingly, the arrangements work best in the more lyrical episodes, many of which feature solo strings or solo voices anyway, but the fact is that the tunes are so memorable that they could be played on a ukelele and still sound wonderful (no offense to any ukelele players out there). Anyway, the piece certainly is fun as it stands.

The Harlem Quartet, dedicatees of Abels’ piece, play all of this music very beautifully indeed. They have a warm, well balanced corporate sonority, rock solid rhythm, and the ability to play hard without coarsening the tone unnecessarily. The Chicago Sinfonietta under Mei-Ann Chen is a virtuoso group that accompanies with impressive technique, and the sonics are typically excellent. This is a very, very fine disc.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Havergal Brian may be a “cult composer”, but he’s surely one of the better ones. His music, even from its early days, was always strange, imaginative, and distinctive, and this disc, containing some very early and very late works, makes the point tellingly. Symphonies Nos. 22-24 form a trilogy. They were all composed between 11:30am and 9pm on May 26th, 1965, when the composer was 137 years old. Okay, just kidding, but 1965 is correct, and Brian was an impressive 89 at the time, which is astonishing enough. Symphony No. 22, “Symphonia brevis”, contains just two movements and lasts nine minutes. March rhythms predominate, alongside the gnarly, virtually atonal counterpoint that characterizes much of Brian’s late work. It sounds unappealing, but the music is so big in gesture and broad in its contrasts that it really does capture and hold your attention. Symphony No. 23, again in two movements but this time lasting all of 14 minutes, is more colorful and also a touch less angular, with some very beautiful moments of lyric calm. No. 24 consists of single, 16-minute movement, in which much of the storm and stress of the previously two works is resolved in lighter, brighter textures and more obviously diatonic thematic material. All three symphonies share an emphasis on march rhythms, and those characteristic brass and percussion effects (giant crescendos, deep tuba lines, three snare drums, unisons for xylophone and glockenspiel, cymbal crashes that hang over the bar lines) typical of Brian, and no one else. The advantage to having them all together, though, lies in the fact that you really can hear that Brian’s language has a wide range of expression, here displayed over a comparatively small space.

The English Suite No. 1 dates from 1905-6; that’s right, sixty years earlier than the three symphonies. Rich in invention, and much more obviously melodic, its six movements start with a march, and continue with a waltz, and character piece called “Under the Beech Tree”, an Interlude, Hymn, and finally a concluding Carnival, which pokes good-natured fun at God Save the King/Queen and other popular tunes. The Interlude is rather amazing, an experiment piece whose outer sections consist of pure texture (sound clip). It reveals Brian’s individuality even at this relatively early stage in his career—although he was already pushing 30 when the Suite was composed.

The performances here are very good. The New Russian State Symphony Orchestra sounds remarkably confident in Brian’s idiosyncratic sound world. The brass play very well, and the ensemble projects what have to be some very ungrateful string parts with astonishing conviction. Much of the credit must belong to conductor Alexander Walker, who keeps the music moving smartly along, and relishes the opportunities it offers for lyrical expression as well as instrumental color. Certainly this is one of the best issues in Naxos’ ongoing Brian cycle, especially as the sonics are also very tactile and vivid. Fans of the composer will rejoice.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Conducted by Grammy award-winning Paavo Jaarvi, the Orchestre de Paris exquisitely performs three magnificent pieces of music.

Conducted by Grammy award-winning Paavo Jaarvi, the Orchestre de Paris exquisitely performs three magnificent pieces of music.

Long-established as a leading voice among composers of his generation, Michael Hersch is also one of the great pianists of our time. While always few, his public performances have become increasingly rare. This special CD/DVD package includes Hersch performing his "Suite from The Vanishing Pavilions" live in concert, his first appearance as a pianist in New York City in over a decade. Also included is a film of that performance and a documentary, The Sudden Pianist, focusing on Hersch's music for the piano and his performance of it.

ENGLISH RECORDER WORKS • Jill Kemp (rcr); Aleksandr Szram (pn); Brodowski Qrt • MUSIC MEDIA 103 (70:58)


ARNOLD Sonatina. Solitaire. Fantasy for Recorder and String Quartet. BERKELEY Sonatina. JACOB Suite for Recorder and String Quartet. BOWEN Recorder Sonata. RUBBRA Meditazioni sopra “Coeurs désolés”


Among modern composers, the English probably have been most attentive to the recorder, an instrument still, in many minds, associated with early music and with the most tiresome aspects of musical education. In large part, the English connection probably can be attributed to Arnold (father) and Carl (son) Dolmetsch, who did so much to bring the instrument out of the past, and to make it accessible (in multiple senses of the word) to English performers and composers. Indeed, several of the works on this CD, including Lennox Berkeley’s Sonatina, York Bowen’s Sonata, Edmund Rubbra’s Meditazioni sopra “Coeurs désolés” (based on a theme by Josquin des Prez), and Gordon Jacob’s Suite, were composed for Carl Dolmetsch between 1939 and 1958. Malcolm Arnold’s Sonatina (1953) was composed for Philip Rogers, another English performer. Throughout the course of the latter half of the century, the recorder once again became a truly international instrument. For example, it was Danish performer Michala Petri (still active, praise be to God!) who inspired Arnold’s Fantasy in 1990. Arnold’s Solitaire (originally composed for a tobacco advertisement!), after several iterations, finally became a work for recorder and piano at the instigation of recorder player John Turner.


Carl Dolmetsch’s representation on CD is disappointingly sparse. (A series from Allegro Music titled The Arnold Dolmetsch Years contains concert recordings in which several Dolmetsch family members are involved, and important guests such as Rafael Puyana, but these are out of print.) Fortunately, we have performers such as Petri and Jill Kemp to run with the torch. Kemp studied with Petri and Piers Adams, and her work, if not her name, will be familiar to many, as she performs on the soundtrack of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows , playing Alexandre Desplat’s score. (Adams plays on the soundtrack as well.)


With its alternation between works in which the soloist is joined either by piano or by string quartet, this CD is well thought out. Kemp is an expressive player, and always in control of her surprisingly difficult instrument. (I wrote “surprisingly” because, in my experience, the recorder is easy to play but nearly impossible to master!) In terms of technique, there are no problems. She is very capable of making her instrument sing. In terms of musicianship, though, I find Kemp to be less imaginative and varied than Petri, who can convince a receptive listener that the recorder is as capable of as many colors and moods as the violin. Granted, the repertoire is weighted in the English pastoral direction, but Arnold and Jacob are often witty, and there’s a seriousness to Kemp’s playing that doesn’t always do the music justice. (The “Burlesca alla Rumba” from Jacob’s Suite, for example, needs to smile more; this is funny music.) Kemp is at her best, then, when the music is peaceful or elegiac. The dignity and drama of Rubbra’s Meditazioni also come across strongly, making this work another highpoint of the CD. Alexander Szram is an attentive pianist, and the young Brodowski Quartet plays with sensitivity. (For example, I like the way in which they do a lot with very little in the first movement of Arnold’s Fantasy. Throughout this work, their influence brings out the best in Kemp, who seems freer here than she does elsewhere in this recital.)


This disc is quite enjoyable, and Kemp is a talent to keep your eyes on, although Petri’s recordings remain top choice.


FANFARE: Raymond Tuttle

Acknowledged without reservation as the greatest composer working in England in the 18th century, Georg Frideric Handel is revered worldwide as a master composer. His Harpsichord Suites are among the finest instrumental works of the period, we are privileged to present exquisite performances by Gilbert Rowland, one of Europe's foremost harpsichordists.

"It is impossible to praise this new release too highly. The harpsichord, a copy of a two manual French harpsichord after Goermans (Paris 1750), built by Andrew Wooderson in 2005, is a lovely instrument. The combination of Handel, Gilbert Rowland, Wooderson’s fine harpsichord, the recording venue at Holy Trinity Church, Weston, Hertfordshire and the recording engineer John Taylor is unbeatable providing, as it does, a collection of these wonderful suites that I will return to again and again."

-- The Classical Reviewer

Korngold’s music for Shakespeare’s comedy Much Ado about Nothing, premiered in Vienna in 1920, enjoyed instant success and soon spread around the world. But the music has not been heard as Korngold intended since the 1st production. For this recording, made in conjunction with a staged US premiere, Korngold’s complete score was reconstructed from the original Viennese materials and is played here by the chamber-orchestral forces for which it was written.

REVIEW:

This is indeed a worthy and welcome addition to the Korngold discography. At long last we have a further complete performance of the composer’s delightful incidental music to Shakespeare’s comedy. It joins the sequence recorded by Ondine with John Storgards conducting. The music was first performed in Vienna’s Schönbrunn Palace when Korngold was just 21. It was very successful and the composer would later go on to adapt the music for various chamber ensembles and as an orchestral suite. Now we have the music as it was performed at Schönbrunn together with choice dramatic overlays including Balthasar’s Song, ‘Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more; Men were deceivers ever’, Beatrice’s soliloquy as she yields to love, and the two sets of lovers’ happy uniting in the final wedding scene.

The orchestra is the same size and specification as that at Schönbrunn with a string quartet rather than a string section so that proper balances with all the other instruments can be assured. With the string quartet are: solo flute/piccolo, oboe, clarinet, bassoon, trumpet and trombone with two horns, a piano, harmonium, harp and three percussionists plus solo timpanist. The original parts were available so that each player could replicate the bowings and articulations used in Vienna. Furthermore, all the composer’s own recordings of the work were made available too, so questions of tempo and portamento could be addressed. Conductor John Mauceri was a very apt choice for he has had much experience conducting Korngold and is a stalwart champion of film music, an asset that might well be regarded as not being far removed from the spirit of this work – in fact the March of the Watch could be considered a pre-echo of Korngold’s Sherwood Forest scenes from his The Adventures of Robin Hood. Mauceri also contributes the erudite notes for this album.

Korngold’s conception works very well in his chosen ensemble. It points up the comedy and irony such as that in March of the Watch and in the dreamy romanticism of the Garden Music. All those intimate glistening string-harp-and-harmonium figures, and rippling piano arpeggios, suggest birdsong and flowers nodding in zephyr breezes. It’s all in gentle romantic waltz time, plus the contrastingly intense almost Mahlerian Funeral Music. Although I would have thought it unnecessary, five of the pieces that have dialogue are repeated again in purely instrumental dress.

There have been a number of recordings of Korngold’s purely orchestral suite from Much Ado About Nothing. Of these I would unhesitatingly recommend Caspar Richter’s 2002 reading originally released on CD DCA 1131. This is not only because it included, for the first time, the enchanting Garden Music but also for the other items on this album which had great appeal especially Korngold’s divine Abschiedlieder Songs  (Songs of Farewell). A delight for committed Korngold fans.

-- MusicWeb International (Aan Lace)

This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.

Also available on standard DVD

Leading Chopin interpreter Nelson Freire is the soloist in Chopin's lyrical and brilliant Second Piano Concerto. On the podium the young French conductor Lionel Bringuier makes his Proms debut conducting the BBC Symphony Orchestra and gives a sizzling performance of Roussel's Symphony no.3 and of Ravel's score for the ballet Daphnis et Chloé - Suite no 2.

-----

REVIEW:

French conductor Lionel Bringuier was still a month away from his 24th birthday when he had his Proms debut—and listening to the performances from that evening, it’s hard not to be blown away by his precocious talent. Or perhaps not quite “blown away.” That phrase suggests a hyperkinetic interpretive style; and while there is plenty of sheer power in the climaxes of Daphnis, what’s most conspicuous here is not a whiz-kid sensibility, but a rare sense of poise. Thus, in the Berlioz, we’re treated to an artful combination of the crisp and the supple, of rhythmic snap and lyrical indulgence, which—especially when combined with his fine ear for orchestral balance and his shrewd shaping of long-term dynamics—brings us along on a strong tide of rhetorical pressure without giving us the sense that we’re being hectored. His Roussel has a similar aplomb, revealing the music’s menacing edge without hardening its lines or brutalizing its rhythms. The dancy quality of the Vivace is especially effective. As for the Ravel: What you’re most likely to remember here is not the orgiastic conclusion, but the aching melodies of the sunrise music and the extreme subtlety of the Pantomime (listen, for instance, to the downy touch of the quieter string passages or the subtle control of the bass-line pizzicatos).

The Chopin gets a first-rate performance, too, although a slightly sober one, with the pianist clearly calling the shots. Stressing the music’s Sturm und Drang rather than its bel canto, Freire gives us a dark and intent reading, with a rich and generally bass-centered tone that, for the most part, lacks edge; the filigree, while never the slightest bit slack (much less mechanical), tends to avoid both glitter and whimsy. Thus, for all the expressiveness of his rubato, his finale doesn’t have much playfulness, much less the coltishness of Vladimir Ashkenazy’s famous early account, made during the 1955 Chopin Competition (see Fanfare 18:5). The resilience of Freire’s line is especially impressive in the recitative-like passage in the middle of the central movement. His encore performance of the once-commonplace Gluck-Sgambati is impressively cool and elegant.

Throughout the concert, the musicians seems genuinely engaged—and genuinely having a good time. Kudos, too, to the solo flute, who garners much well-justified applause after Daphnis. Any complaints? Well, poise is not an unmitigated virtue, and there are passages where the Roussel could be tougher—and places, especially in the second movement, where Bringuier could coax out more of its irony and ambiguity. Then, too, there is arguably too much control in the final pages of the Ravel. All in all, though, an impressive introduction to a striking new conductor—with vivid engineering (especially on the surround tracks, which give a wider soundstage and a greater sense of presence) and clear images. Recommended.

– Fanfare (Peter J. Rabinowitz)

BACH French Suites, BWV 812–817 • Alessandra Artifoni (hpd) • DYNAMIC 757 (2 CDs: 90:44)


It always gives me pause when I encounter an artist new to me and, upon searching the Internet for some biographical background, I find next to nothing. Alessandra Artifoni has no official website and only a number of links pop up—some in Italian only—to sources for this 2012 set of Bach’s French Suites . A one-paragraph bio-blurb in the enclosed booklet doesn’t tell us much either. She was born in Florence in 1967, so at 46 she’s not fresh out of the conservatory or just off the competition circuit. She studied organ and harpsichord in Italy, and then spent 10 years in Switzerland furthering her studies at the Schola Cantorum Basiliensis. According to the note, Artifoni has made several CDs and radio recordings, but I wasn’t able to find any of them listed beyond this Dynamic release, not even on Amazon’s Italian branch. So, here we have an artist approaching 50, who, for all practical purposes, emerges from nowhere to give us a recording of Bach’s complete French Suites.


How does Artifoni fare? Quite well in fact. She makes her case for these pieces by adopting just tempos, dutifully observing repeats, making clear and precise distinctions between the various embellishment types that appear in the scores, and exhibiting no quirky mannerisms. Moreover, Artifoni’s performances are further enhanced by a richly voiced two-manual harpsichord of exceptional clarity and beauty of tone. It was built in 1997 by Tony Chinnery after a circa 1702 harpsichord by Berlin maker Michael Mietke (?1656/71–1719). Records indicate that Mietke delivered a harpsichord to the court at Köthen in 1719 on the recommendation of Bach, and that it was likely the instrument Bach played in a performance of the Fifth Brandenburg Concerto.


Chinnery lives and works in a villa just north of Florence, and this particular harpsichord from his workshop sparkles with diamond-like glints without any hint of glare or harshness across and between its two evenly matched keyboards. It’s absolutely ideal for these suites, enabling Artifoni to clearly resolve Bach’s linear writing.


Many famous players, of course, have put their individual stamps on these works, performing them on piano as well as on harpsichord. But among just harpsichord versions, the catalog beckons, in no particular order, with entries by Helmut Walcha, Huguette Dreyfus, Ton Koopman, Christophe Rousset, Kenneth Gilbert, Trevor Pinnock, Christopher Hogwood, Gustav Leonhardt, Bob van Asperen, Davitt Moroney, Lars Ulrik Mortensen, and Masaaki Suzuki. I don’t have all of them and haven’t even heard some of them, but of those I do have and/or have heard, I’m comfortable in saying that Alessandra Artifoni can stand with the best of them.


Admittedly, she is not as varied or imaginative in her approach as are some—for example, she doesn’t make much use of different stops to provide contrast in repeated sections, as does Dreyfus, or insert creative embellishments of her own making along the way, as does Rousset—but she is due credit for playing the notes as Bach wrote them, or at least how we think he wrote them, which brings me to one last, if essentially unimportant point about Artifoni’s or Dynamic’s sequencing of the suites on these two discs.


Except for a few movements of these pieces which found their way into Anna Magdalena’s Clavierbüchlein in Bach’s own hand, no autograph scores of the French Suites exist. Not even the title is Bach’s; it first appears in a 1762 treatise by German musicologist Friedrich Wilhelm Marpurg (1718–1795). Because of this, later copies and editions took it upon themselves to publish the suites in no particular agreed upon order.


As a result, many players present the suites in numerical order, one through six, which is actually an artifact of their BWV numbers. Since the BWV catalog assigned 812 to the Suite in


D Minor, it became No. 1; 813, assigned to the Suite in C Minor, became No. 2, and so on. But not all players adopt this schema, some preferring to present the suites in some alternate order that makes sense to them or to the record producer laying them out. Just for grins, here’s Artifoni’s sequence compared to Rousset’s.

	D Minor	C Minor	B Minor	E?-Major	G Major	E Major
	812	813	814	815	816	817
Artifoni (order)	5	2	4	1	3	6
Rousset (order)	5	2	6	1	4	3

Whether there’s any significance to the fact that Artifoni and Rousset both begin their sets with the E?-Major Suite (BWV 815) followed by the C-Minor Suite (BWV 813), or whether it’s purely coincidental I don’t know, but if there’s a desire to devise some plan based on keys, Bach didn’t make it easy. There’s no obvious formula I can see that would result in a complementary or symmetrical structure. Rousset begins in E?-Major and ends in E Major, two keys that may be adjacent to each other on the keyboard but are a universe apart in terms of tonal relationships. Artifoni also begins in E?-Major but ends in B Minor, a tonal relationship of an augmented fifth (or diminished sixth) that would have taken the curls right out of Bach’s wig. So, one must conclude that since no order makes sense, any order will do.


The more I listen to Aritifoni’s French Suites the more I like them. They won’t displace other favorites, chief among which are Rousset and, with apologies to any elitists who may happen upon this review—I’m sure there are none among Fanfare ’s readers—Keith Jarrett, whose ventures into Bach, I think, are generally underappreciated. Anyway, Artifoni’s new release is highly recommended.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

The music of the Czech-born Viennese composer Kornauth (1891-1959) was once a staple of Austrian concert-halls. It has been largely forgotten in the half-century since his death. In this pioneering recording, British pianist Jonathan owell uncovers the many strands that fed into Kornauth’s rich and full-bodied compositions.

REVIEW:

This is the first full disc of piano music by Egon Kornauth, a composer born in what is now Olomouc in the Czech Republic (and was then Olmütz) who studied with Robert Fuchs in Vienna and then later with Schreker and Franz Schmidt.

Jonathan Powell is one of the most eloquent commentators on the music he plays I have come across, whether that be Sorabji or Kornauth, and his booklet note is a source of great interest. The angular, active Fantasy (1915) contains distinctly Richard Straussian turns of harmony and phrase in the sweet contrasting themes (that influence is less obvious in the more Schwung sections); the overt lush Straussian gestures sound more like a reduction of an orchestral tone poem. The op. 25 Klavierstücke (1920) are more modernist, probably because of his experiences of Schreker. The first is decidedly Bergian (think the op. 1 Piano Sonata), while the central Improvisation sounds exactly like that. Most fascinating is the final “Walzer,” a very sprightly evocation of Viennese dance, a bit like an Austro-Germanic Ravel La Valse in places.

The Kleine Suite (1923) has fewer ambitions than the other works on the disc and receives another fantastic performance from Powell. The Barcarolle (third movement) sums the suite up in essence, reflecting the less demanding demeanor of the piece, while the penultimate “Walzer” elicits a phenomenally light touch from Powell before the cheekily scampering Finale rounds things off with a smile.

The Präludium und Passacaglia offers maximal contrast, the B♭-Minor twilight of Bachian rigor and severity of the Prelude meeting the storm clouds of Chopin’s finest turbulence; the Passacaglia continues the gloominess. Powell paces it superbly: The close is truly crushing before the final surprise major-key end. The op. 44 Klavierstücke of 1940 is also sometimes known as the Second Suite. It is shot through with sweet nostalgia. The five pieces (“Präludium”; “Intermezzo”; “Capriccio”; “Mährische Ballade”; “Walzer”) speak of sweet nostalgia. Powell lavishes them with an attention to detail that almost makes them sparkle (in a retrospective sort of way). The “Mährische Ballade” (Moravian Ballad) is the highlight. Its almost folkish mode of discourse hides a strong compositional rudder steering the work perfectly; the final “Walzer” is the suite’s longest movement, and drips with charm.

This is a fascinating disc (as we are beginning to expect from Toccata Classics). The recording (made at Durham University, U.K.) is excellent.

-- Fanfare

When he was eight years old Mozart wrote a series of duo sonatas sanctioned for violin or flute and keyboard. Written in London, they were dedicated to Queen Charlotte. The sonatas performed on this disc were written much later for violin but, using that earlier precedent, have been transcribed for flute by one of the world’s greatest exponents of the instrument, Patrick Gallois. Memorably tuneful, they represent different stages of Mozart’s development and are beautifully suited to their new guise.

Domenico Scarlatti, the sixth child of the celebrated composer Alessandro Scarlatti, was a prolific keyboard composer, and is best known today for his 555 sonatas for keyboard. Domenico was employed by various members of European royalty and nobility in Italy, Spain and Portugal throughout his career. His style was unusual and innovative, but very few of his works were published during his lifetime.

The disc combines several of Scarlatti’s keyboard sonatas with Neapolitan songs by various composers of the era, exploring the influences of these songs on Scarlatti’s sonatas. Scarlatti’s style is notable for its improvisatory nature as well as its incorporation of elements of Spanish and Portuguese folk music (the composer having spent time in Lisbon, Seville and Madrid), and among the Neapolitan songs featured on the disc is the immensely popular Lo guarracino, a fast?talking and high?spirited number that narrates the story of a fish, and the lilting La Nova Gelosia. Two extracts from operas – ‘So’ li sorbe e le nespole amare’ from Leonardo Vinci’s Lo cecato fauzo and ‘Chi disse ca la femmena’ from Giovanni Battista Pergolesi’s Lo frate ‘nnamorato – are also present, both of which feature a light?hearted portrayal of women. Out of the many versions of the song Quanno nascette ninno, the one by the Nuova Compagnia di Canto Popolare was chosen for this disc, thanks to its fascinating minor modulation.

Acclaimed harpsichordist Francesco Cera is considered one of Italy’s foremost interpreters of early music. He has toured all over the world and his recordings include interpretations of 17th?century keyboard sonatas, French suites and harpsichord concertos by J.S. Bach. Italian soprano Letizia Calandro’s repertoire includes Neapolitan songs alongside the more traditional oeuvres of the Classical and Baroque periods. Having studied at the Santa Cecilia Conservatory in Rome, she won the Spoleto Award and has performed the lead role in operas by composers as diverse as Monteverdi, Mozart and Verdi.

OTHER INFORMATION:
* New recording, recorded September 2009, Chisea di S. Anatolia, Colle di Tora, Rieti, Italy.
* Extensive liner notes included in English and Italian.
* Sung texts available on the Brilliant Classics website.